MSPA Fanfiction VI: Trashy Rainbow Drinker Fanfiction

[MoraicTrochee]

DraconicAlgorithm, I was secretly hoping that you would write about that

[Pepperedfox]

S-So um! I come bearing two MC fics, both centered around Diamonds Droog mainly because I have an extreme fondness for him and all that. Enjoy!

DUET

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Sometimes, after a long day, when all Droog wants to do is sit down and smoke and drink his troubles away, Deuce comes in and makes it worse. It doesn't matter to the runt that it's a bad time to blabber on and on about some magical shiny treasure (a piece of flashy junk) or about the scrumptiddlyumptiousness of licorice (only sweets he cares for are Swedish Fish) or about Slick's weird magazine of suggestively posed terriers (what.) And Droog, sitting on the couch with a cigarette between his fingers, Grey Ladies tucked between an issue of the Gazette, grunts now and then while Deuce runs his motormouth, hoping that the little Dersite will get the message to go away, please, before I stick a cuestick through your head.

But Deuce doesn't get the message, he rarely does, not unless you tell it to him nice and simple and slow, and even then that isn't a guarantee. So Droog sighs and presses his hand against his face, says, Deuce--

And that's when the little bastard squeals in delight and grabs him by the hand and chirps, The sax! Play the saxophone, Droog!

Hell, he doesn't want to play the saxophone but Deuce is already rushing out of the room and rushing back in with his oboe and mismatched sheet music, shoving the mixed-up songs toward him all fake serious before bursting into giggles. And Droog, like the wuss he is, doesn't say no, doesn't throw it all back in Deuce's face, but instead takes the sheets and shuffles them back in order. Don't you ever pay attention? he says, but he brings out his saxophone anyway, making Deuce so giddy that he almost falls over.

So Droog plays. He tells himself that it's because he needs the practice, not because it's for the little, childish Dersite before him, but when that oboe's mournful note mixes with his sax's he almost smiles. Almost.

And so, like they always do, they wind up playing a little strange duet together, on to and past midnight, until Slick shouts at them to shut the fuck up it's fucking late, to which Droog will hold out a long note out of pure spite. By then Deuce's dead tired, his head bobbing, and Droog has to carry the annoying Dersite to bed. He thinks to himself that he shouldn't have to do this childish crap, but for some reason he doesn't mind it as much as he should.

When Droog is about to head back down, to light another cigarette, to pour another drink, Deuce pipes up, Was that fun, Droog? Did you have fun?

And Droog will shrug like he always does, hiding the almost-smile creeping in as he turns away.

MOVIE NIGHT
(so obviously inspired by this pic.)

show spoiler

hide spoiler

It's Saturday night, that terrible time of the week where Boxcars digs through his stash of terrible romances and forces the rest of the Crew to watch along. Droog is prepared with popcorn in one hand, half-empty wine bottle in the other. He hopes that the alcohol will kick in before he is forced on the sofa.

If he had it his way he would ditch movie night altogether, but he knows that attempting an escape is useless. The last time he had tried to abscond resulted in an unfortunate turn of events that ended with the TV chucked through the wall, crushing some poor sap walking by. The thing about Hearts Boxcars is he always gets quality Crew time. Always.

So Droog gets the wineglasses, the booze, and the super-buttery popcorn. They take their usual places: Deuce on the floor, with the popcorn bowl in his lap; Slick slumping against the sofa, a scowl on his face, Droog beside him; Boxcars holding up a fistful of DVDs, grinning like an idiot. Droog pours his fourth glass and quickly downs it.

"I got a real treat fer all ya this time..." Boxcars begins, and right on cue the television explodes with bursts of color and a tearjerker of a song.

Droog finds it nauseating. But ten minutes into the usual fare of scrawny dames fluttering eyelashes at hairy-chested men, he is simply too drunk to care. He hears Slick angrily grumble beside him and sympathizes. He passes his bottle.

The bastard drinks all of it. Boxcars, steaming at the melodramatic foreplay on the screen, yells for someone to hand him the damn beer so that he could smash it in the lead female's cockteasin' face.

It isn't long before everyone, save for Deuce, is drunk, ten levels of wasted and counting. Boxcars, who had been screaming only moments before, is serenely pacified, his throaty bellows of "KISS THAT GUY" diminished to soft murmurs of approval. Slick is the one who rages now, hissing and waving his knife and glass at the television, threatening to cut out the girl's gut if she didn't knee that womanizing asshole in the nuts. Droog lazily inspects the shifting holes in the ceiling, words fading in and out of focus.

Movie nights aren't so bad, he groggily thinks, and passes out, just as the happy couple kiss to the ecstatic and furious roars of Boxcars and Slick.

He wakes up the next morning with wine spilled all over his suit, the rest of the Crew out cold around him.

The television inconveniently breaks for the eleventh time that month.

[potatomato]

Pepperedfox, those were adorable. I love MC fics, and I hope you write more! Poor Droog and his ruined suit.

[Graven_Image]

Test Result 6A

show spoiler

hide spoiler

He never thought he'd actually make it.

He took his first few steps out of the chamber, feet (feet!) kicking up the gray dust that covered the planetoid he was on. The void stretched out around him, terminating in a maze-like cloud of whitish-grey planetoids.

Hmm, whitish-grey. Did it...? Yes. The portals worked.

He immediately jumped as high as he could, breaking free of his home planetoid's meager gravity.

Zero gees. Freefall.

That was it. He made it. He was finally here.

"HAHAHAHAHA! YES! I'M IN SPAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACE!"

show spoiler

hide spoiler

3/6 ROBOTS CONSTRUCTED
1/6 CHARACTERS TRANSPORTIFIED
1/??? NEWBORN MEMES PAID HOMAGE TO

[newbonomicon]

SPAAAAAAAAACE!

[Portalboat]

SPAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAACE!

[DJKID]

S-So um! I come bearing two MC fics, both centered around Diamonds Droog mainly because I have an extreme fondness for him and all that. Enjoy!

DUET

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Sometimes, after a long day, when all Droog wants to do is sit down and smoke and drink his troubles away, Deuce comes in and makes it worse. It doesn't matter to the runt that it's a bad time to blabber on and on about some magical shiny treasure (a piece of flashy junk) or about the scrumptiddlyumptiousness of licorice (only sweets he cares for are Swedish Fish) or about Slick's weird magazine of suggestively posed terriers (what.) And Droog, sitting on the couch with a cigarette between his fingers, Grey Ladies tucked between an issue of the Gazette, grunts now and then while Deuce runs his motormouth, hoping that the little Dersite will get the message to go away, please, before I stick a cuestick through your head.

But Deuce doesn't get the message, he rarely does, not unless you tell it to him nice and simple and slow, and even then that isn't a guarantee. So Droog sighs and presses his hand against his face, says, Deuce--

And that's when the little bastard squeals in delight and grabs him by the hand and chirps, The sax! Play the saxophone, Droog!

Hell, he doesn't want to play the saxophone but Deuce is already rushing out of the room and rushing back in with his oboe and mismatched sheet music, shoving the mixed-up songs toward him all fake serious before bursting into giggles. And Droog, like the wuss he is, doesn't say no, doesn't throw it all back in Deuce's face, but instead takes the sheets and shuffles them back in order. Don't you ever pay attention? he says, but he brings out his saxophone anyway, making Deuce so giddy that he almost falls over.

So Droog plays. He tells himself that it's because he needs the practice, not because it's for the little, childish Dersite before him, but when that oboe's mournful note mixes with his sax's he almost smiles. Almost.

And so, like they always do, they wind up playing a little strange duet together, on to and past midnight, until Slick shouts at them to shut the fuck up it's fucking late, to which Droog will hold out a long note out of pure spite. By then Deuce's dead tired, his head bobbing, and Droog has to carry the annoying Dersite to bed. He thinks to himself that he shouldn't have to do this childish crap, but for some reason he doesn't mind it as much as he should.

When Droog is about to head back down, to light another cigarette, to pour another drink, Deuce pipes up, Was that fun, Droog? Did you have fun?

And Droog will shrug like he always does, hiding the almost-smile creeping in as he turns away.

MOVIE NIGHT
(so obviously inspired by this pic.)

show spoiler

hide spoiler

It's Saturday night, that terrible time of the week where Boxcars digs through his stash of terrible romances and forces the rest of the Crew to watch along. Droog is prepared with popcorn in one hand, half-empty wine bottle in the other. He hopes that the alcohol will kick in before he is forced on the sofa.

If he had it his way he would ditch movie night altogether, but he knows that attempting an escape is useless. The last time he had tried to abscond resulted in an unfortunate turn of events that ended with the TV chucked through the wall, crushing some poor sap walking by. The thing about Hearts Boxcars is he always gets quality Crew time. Always.

So Droog gets the wineglasses, the booze, and the super-buttery popcorn. They take their usual places: Deuce on the floor, with the popcorn bowl in his lap; Slick slumping against the sofa, a scowl on his face, Droog beside him; Boxcars holding up a fistful of DVDs, grinning like an idiot. Droog pours his fourth glass and quickly downs it.

"I got a real treat fer all ya this time..." Boxcars begins, and right on cue the television explodes with bursts of color and a tearjerker of a song.

Droog finds it nauseating. But ten minutes into the usual fare of scrawny dames fluttering eyelashes at hairy-chested men, he is simply too drunk to care. He hears Slick angrily grumble beside him and sympathizes. He passes his bottle.

The bastard drinks all of it. Boxcars, steaming at the melodramatic foreplay on the screen, yells for someone to hand him the damn beer so that he could smash it in the lead female's cockteasin' face.

It isn't long before everyone, save for Deuce, is drunk, ten levels of wasted and counting. Boxcars, who had been screaming only moments before, is serenely pacified, his throaty bellows of "KISS THAT GUY" diminished to soft murmurs of approval. Slick is the one who rages now, hissing and waving his knife and glass at the television, threatening to cut out the girl's gut if she didn't knee that womanizing asshole in the nuts. Droog lazily inspects the shifting holes in the ceiling, words fading in and out of focus.

Movie nights aren't so bad, he groggily thinks, and passes out, just as the happy couple kiss to the ecstatic and furious roars of Boxcars and Slick.

He wakes up the next morning with wine spilled all over his suit, the rest of the Crew out cold around him.

The television inconveniently breaks for the eleventh time that month.

The sweetest things I've ever read ;_; ♥
Casual MC stuff like this gets me all mushy~

[lucidSeraph]

Graven. I love space. I know! Spell it! S P... AACE. Space. Space.

[lantadyme]

Ugh, you guys I have been doing nothing but lurking and reading here for weeks, and I am sorry for never leaving comments. You are all so fantastic, though.

Here's something I wrote for the Easter exchange that has nothing to do with Easter. Ancestors in space: Hopscotch

[ceruleanTresses]

Ugh, you guys I have been doing nothing but lurking and reading here for weeks, and I am sorry for never leaving comments. You are all so fantastic, though.

Here's something I wrote for the Easter exchange that has nothing to do with Easter. Ancestors in space: Hopscotch

That was brilliantly written! I especially enjoyed the way the language of the waiter on Tau Ceti was rendered, and also the portrayal of kismesis. Mostly the portrayal of kismesis, really, because it was so, like...darkly sexy. You managed to write it in a way that's both poetic and comprehensible, so that a human can almost empathize with the feelings even though they're so alien.

[anonymousComrade]

I don't know why I'm posting this up, this is easily the worst chapter yet

Re: Champion - Chapter 4: Trial

show spoiler

hide spoiler

To say the captain was not able to take care of it would be a gross understatement.

For a solid perigree after the hearings committee clears him of any wrongdoing in the incident, Karkinos resumes a rather routine military life. He spends most of his time training, in his respiteblock (keeping his head down and avoiding further unnecessary attention) or bored out of his think pan.

Pestilence Squad is only deployed once this perigree, to a skirmish and subsequent mop-up of Oni troops on one of the border mining worlds. The fighting begans before the team arrives and is over quickly once they are dropped in; even among the Oni, Alternian Threshecutioner drop troops are known for being particularly ruthless, and Pestilence Squad is no exception. The battle ends, evac arrives, and it's back to the ship.

It would have been completely routine, had the captain not gone missing during deployment. The sudden power vacuum is filled almost immediately.

(Captain Suzach's first official act is the arrest of one Squad Leader Karkinos Histrellin, on charges of gross insubordination.)

----------

It's all a big fat fucking farce, he thinks to himself as he stares at the walls of his cell in the ship's brig. It's obvious to anyone with a functioning brain stem; Suzach murdered his way to the top of the chain of command and now seeks to purge his Threshecutioners of this green filth.

(Green, he thinks to himself, wondering if that's even the case anymore.)

The worst part is that it's all sanctioned. Promotion via assassination isn't exactly uncommon; a captain who cannot inspire enough loyalty in his soldiers to prevent them from killing him is no captain at all. On top of that, Suzach is entirely legally right to hold Karkinos for insubordination. There's no way out, it's only a matter of waiting to be culled.

A door down the hall opens and footsteps approach his cell. Captain Suzach and two guards stand before him.

"Your trial is about to begin, scumblood. Let's go."

For a brief moment, Karkinos wonders to himself, if he could manage to fight off both guards and kill Suzach himself, if that would somehow exonerate him, but he puts the thought out of his mind. That would surely earn him a publicly humilating execution.

----------

"Karkinos Histrellin, you have been found guilty of the crime of insubordination. You will return here for your sentencing in one week. Adjourned."

The whole thing is over in less than fifteen minutes. Not once is his record brought up, nor is the fact that all of his squad's assignments have been busywork designed to keep him from advancement. His Honorable Tyranny doesn't seem to care that his actions saved the lives of over twenty-four soldiers. All that matters is that a soldier relatively new to leadership cannot follow orders himself.

The walk back to his cell is a long one. The courtblock's decision has him second-guessing himself the entire way. Did he really take action to rescue his fellow soldiers? Or was he just looking for glory for himself?

And if the latter is true, how could he possibly be truly fit to lead anyone into battle?

----------

A week passes and he is brought before the courtblock to await his sentencing. To look at Karkinos's face, one might not guess it to be the expression of a man certain of his own imminent demise, but Karkinos has always been good at keeping a stiff upper lip.

"Histrellin. Step forth." He does so at His Honorable Tyranny's command.

"Karkinos Histrellin, one week ago, you were found guilty of insubordination. The usual punishment for such is death." Karkinos can practically feel Captain Suzach staring a hole into the back of his head.

"However," and Karkinos's vascular pump skips a beat at this. "However?" How did I manage to get out of this? "You are the best soldier the Threshecutioners have produced in some time, and I believe the captain here said as much in the appeal he filed on your behalf."

A tiny voice in the back of Karkinos's mind starts whispering oh, shit.

"If Captain Suzach himself sees promise in you during these trying times, soldier, then it is the duty of his ship's courtblock to aid his efforts in any way we can. Therefore, Karkinos Histrellin, in lieu of execution, you are hereby stripped of your rank as leader of the Pestilence Squad Threshecutioners, and we place you in the service of the War Squad Threshecutioners, led by Captain Suzach himself. Failure to comply will result in immediate culling. You are free to go. Dismissed."

The sound of His Honorable Tyranny's gavel has barely cleared the air when Captain Suzach addresses Karkinos personally. "Get to your respiteblock and rest up, scumblood. Training starts tomorrow," he informs him with that same maniacal grin he's had on his face the entire time.

That tiny voice grows larger and starts screaming oh, FUCK.

----------

So he intends to make an example of me, Karkinos thinks to himself during the walk back to his respiteblock. At least an execution would have been quicker.

He opens the door to his respiteblock and finds it has been ransacked, no doubt by one of Suzach's goons, if not Suzach himself. Most of his belongings are scattered, damaged or missing (including, he notes with not a little disdain, his store of Hemoshift ingredients). He wonders if they discovered the last of his contraband as he eyes a ceiling tile in the corner and begins counting off; four to the left, thirteen toward the door. He pulls a chair to that location and climbs on it to push the loose tile back. He feels around in the darkness and almost immediately finds what he's looking for.

He pulls the tile back into place and uses his training sickle to check... his blood has degraded to a sickly red-orange. Then he was right to keep his mouth shut during his time in holding. He removes the cap from the syringe and plunges the needle into his arm. He will need to administer the entirety of his emergency dose of Hemoshift to restore his lime-green color, and not a moment too soon; it will take all night for his blood to change.

He turns on his computer, thankfully one of the few objects in his room that has taken relatively little damage. Almost immediately the familiar bleep of a Trollian message plays through the speakers.

-- totalAnnihilation [TA] began trolling crimsonGeneral [CG] --

TA: oh thank fuck kark
TA: ii thought you'd be kiilled for 2ure
TA: how on alterniia diid you make iit out aliive
CG: THEY'RE PUTTING ME IN FUCKING WAR SQUAD WITH CAPTAIN BACKSTAB.
CG: SUZACH FILED AN APPEAL HIMSELF, I GUESS HE WANTS EVERYONE TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU CROSS NOBILITY.
TA: oh god that'2 even wor2e!
TA: ii2n't war 2quad liike
TA: the one wiith the hiighe2t ca2ualty rate or 2ome 2hiit
CG: YEAH, THEY'RE BASICALLY SUICIDE PATROL.
CG: IF A MISSION'S TOO DANGEROUS TO WASTE REAL SOLDIERS ON, WAR SQUAD GETS SENT IN FIRST.
CG: AND NOW I GUESS I'M ONE OF THEM.
CG: WELL, IF SUZACH WANTS TO SEE ME BEG FOR MY LIFE, HE WON'T GET THE SATISFACTION.
CG: HE WANTS TO MAKE ME AN EXAMPLE? I'LL BE AN EXAMPLE OF SOMEONE TOO BADASS TO GO OUT LIKE A BITCH.
TA: well good luck wiith the whole "not dyiing" thiing buddy
TA: ii've gotta get back two work on crackiing thii2 onii tran2mii22iion
CG: HEY MAN, I'VE GOT NO INTENTION OF DYING.
CG: THERE'S A REASON THEY MADE ME SQUAD LEADER OF PESTILENCE IN THE FIRST PLACE.
CG: I FIGURE IF I KICK ALL ASSES AND TAKE ALL NAMES THEN I'M GOOD TO GO, RIGHT?
CG: NO PROBLEM. HELL, MAYBE THEY'LL MAKE ME SQUAD LEADER AGAIN. I DESTROY ENOUGH DUDES AND THEY'VE GOT TO, NO MATTER WHAT CAPTAIN DOUCHESHITS SAYS.
CG: YEAH, I'VE GOT THIS. NO FUCKING PROBLEM.
CG: ...ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME? I'M KIND OF FREAKING OUT HERE.

-- totalAnnihilation [TA] is an idle troll! --

CG: OH FUCK YOU, CASPARR.
CG: FUCK YOU RIGHT IN YOUR AUDITORY CHANNELS.

-- crimsonGeneral [CG] ceased trolling totalAnnihilation [TA] --

Notes:

show spoiler

hide spoiler

These just keep getting shorter and lamer

Re: Champion, more like Deus Ex Machina: The Fanfiction. I mean I know Karkinos kind of has to make it to the point of the original story but I am just killing any tension that happens at all here

I know I keep saying this and I know I have yet to deliver, but I swear this shit gets better

I might take a bit of a hiatus on this to plan the rest of it out, as coming up with a few major events and winging the rest like I do most of my writing is clearly not working

[Twigwise]

@Graven
Spaaaaace, I'm in spaaaaaaaaaaaace!!!!!!!!

Land of... Mazes and Moons?

[Graven_Image]

Land of Void, actually.

And Space.

[wilySubversionist]

Trolls Were Walking Far From Home

show spoiler

hide spoiler

(Aradiabots sing the background vocals.)

I WAS WALKING FAR FROM HOME
AND I CARRIED A BURDEN NO ONE KNOWS.
SAW A WINDOW INTO HEAVEN,
AND A DOOR SLAMMING CLOSED, DOOR SLAMMING CLOSED

i SAW BLUE BLOOD, sCRAWLED ON STONE TO
fORM A PLEA THAT, iN WEAKNESS, i DENIED,
aND I LEFT HER TO HER TORMENT,
aND i DREAMT i COULD FLY, dREAMT i COULD FLY

i was walking far fr0m h0me
i 0beyed every beat and every chime
as bleak ch0irs of gh0stly v0ices
whispered "tangled in time, tangled in time”

i heard d00m in cries 0f terr0r,
i saw bl00d and a bit of it was mine.
it depressed me and enraged me,
but it kept me in line, kept me in line

I Was Walking Far From Home
And I Saw My Last Purpose Torn Away
I Was Smothered And Rekindled
And I Shone Like The Day, Shone Like The Day

1 S4W GOLD WH3N 1 W4S DR34M1NG,
S4W TH3 CLOUDS FOR3T3LL MY FUTUR3 1N TH3 SK13S
1 S4W SUNL1GHT 4ND B3TR4Y4L,
4ND 1T BURN3D OUT MY 3Y3S, BURN3D OUT MY 3Y3S

Saw a Circle slick as seaweed,
And I joined in its deep eternal song.
It's -EXCITING t) (at I'm finally
W) (ere I reelly belong, reelly belong

D--> Saw a highb100d, whom I knew w001d
D--> Seek to slay my appeaser and my guide
D--> I would fight him to defend her
D--> But I'm not STRONG inside, not STRONG inside

:33 < saw my friends purrtrayed in pigments
:33 < and a pair of hearts painted on a stone.
:33 < they dont know how much im wishing
:33 < that they werent alone, werent alone

saww cathedrals in a gray land
wwhere my wweepin echoed lonely in the halls
lovveless angels seemed to mock me
and i slaughtered them all, slaughtered them all

i saw blood and laughter mingled,
THROUGH A BLISS THAT WAS NOTHING BUT A SHAM.
now i'm finally thinking clearly,
AND I KNOW WHO I REALLY AM, KNOW WHO I AM.

I've 8een walking far from home,
It's so hard, and no8ody understands.
I'm a goddess, light incarn8,
8ut I can't wash the 8lood from my, can't wash the 8lood from my hands.

That was so lovely! And really quite moving, just fit so well. Great going!

Everybody has been doing such good work! Still loving ancestorfics and Wiszardstuck and all of it!

[Rebbe]

Wrote this for draconicAlgorithm for the Easter exchange and figured I should post it here too.

THE SPECIFICATIONS:

1. Something with a pairing would be cool. My favorites are Karkat Terezi, Dave Jade, Karkat Jade, Eridan Nepeta, and Karkat Kanaya
2. Interaction between a troll and a kid. I don't care which ones, but I'd love to see some interesting ones. :3
4. Something involving one or more characters and a spring/Easter/troll equivalent tradition they have. This is probably better suited for a fic, but I'm cool with anything, really.

Here goes!!

Easter For Jade

Oh man, I adore this. Your characterization is superb and your prose is as funny as anything. Karkat waxing pale for Kanaya and quoting Troll Shakespeare all over the place is pretty much completely amazing. Beautiful work!!

[MoraicTrochee]

@ Rebbe and the other people who liked my fic:

Aww, thanks! You guys are being so nice It makes me feel very happy! I'm glad my small fic was enjoyed.

[ceruleanTresses]

That was so lovely! And really quite moving, just fit so well. Great going!

Everybody has been doing such good work! Still loving ancestorfics and Wiszardstuck and all of it!

I'm so glad you like it! You inspired me to write it by linking me that awesome song, so I'm glad I was able to do it some semblance of justice.

Also, MoraicTrochee, I just went and looked at Easter for Jade. SO AWESOME. I freaking love the Troll Shakespeare thing. You are clearly the master at convoluted four-quadrant romance plots.

Also. "Humans are so sensitive about normal, healthy things like murder and mass infanticide!” Ahahahahahahaha!

Edit: Best ending ever.

[Pepperedfox]

Pepperedfox, those were adorable. I love MC fics, and I hope you write more! Poor Droog and his ruined suit.

The sweetest things I've ever read ;_; ♥
Casual MC stuff like this gets me all mushy~

aaaaah thank you guys!! I'm glad you like 'em so much! And yeah, I'll probably be writing some more MC fics. Expect to see one around next week~

[crash826]

So I thought I would do some bloodswap stuff. Does anyone want to see that, or would you rather rip off my face and do awful, awful things down the hole?

[Jim Groovester]

The Sapphire of Alternia, Part 24 Part Deux

show spoiler

hide spoiler

“You just keep your hands off him.”

“And what are you gonna do about it? Take a detour from your mail route and make me pay?”

“You bet I will. You’ve had it coming for a while now.”

“I’d love to see you try.”

“Nobody messes with the mail in this town. Ya wanna find out why?”

“Ya have to catch me first.”

“Ain’t so fast out of your cab. Ain’t so tough either.”

“Knock it off.” Problem Sleuth shouts to the arguing women behind him. “You can kill each other when you’re done helping me.”

There’s a moment where they don’t say anything. It only lasts a moment though.

“Way to bring Sleuth into this.”

“I did not! That was all you!”

Problem Sleuth walks outside and looks around. He sees a blue top hat on the same roof it’s always been with a vomit green cockroach sitting underneath it. Don’t they ever try anything different? Creativity probably isn’t their biggest problem though. “Deferrer, get the car ready. There’s something I need to take care of.”

Transportation Deferrer gives Persevering Maillady a sideways glance as Sleuth jogs across the street. He climbs the fire escape and exits onto the roof.

Doze comes to, and just in time. He turns around slowly. “I’m ready for you this time, Problem Sleuth.” He says with just enough slowness to be noticeable. “I’m not letting you break my radio.”

Sleuth shoves his hands in his coat. “Who said anything about breaking your radio?”

“Huh?” Doze asks. “That’s what you did the last time you climbed up here.”

“But why would I do the same thing twice?” Sleuth asks. “You’d expect it.”

“Uh.” The question stumps Doze. “Just stop right there.” He reaches for his gun.

Sleuth walks the distance between them before Doze has his hand on the grip. “You have a terrible quick draw.”

“Hey, I’m a little slow.” Doze says, his gun slowly pointing at Sleuth. “You don’t have to rub it in.”

Sleuth takes the cigarette out of his mouth. “I’m tired of you spying on my office.”

“That’s too bad.”

“So’s this.” Sleuth pushes Doze over the edge of the roof. A second later there’s a thud on the ground and frightened screams from the sidewalk. Sleuth flicks his cigarette over the edge.

==>

You’ve wanted to do that for a while now. Damn, that felt good.

Poor Doze didn’t even have time to scream. Well, more like he didn’t realize he was falling until he hit the ground.

He climbs down the fire escape and walks across the street, not bothering to look at Doze. Maillady’s standing on the sidewalk while Deferrer leans against her running cab. Deferrer’s got a small grin on her face and Maillady looks unsettled.

“You didn’t kill him, did you?” Maillady asks.

“It’s only three stories.” Sleuth says, stepping onto the curb and walking to Maillady. “He’ll be fine if he didn’t fall on his head.”

“Was that really necessary, Sleuth?”

“Yes.” Sleuth says. “Now go. Make your mail runs quick on a route you don’t usually take and then hide out somewhere for the rest of the day. With any luck the Felt won’t follow you.” Sleuth starts looking around for anything that looks a little too dark in the morning sunlight.

“Is that who you’re worried about?” Maillady asks. “The Felt?”

Sleuth doesn’t find anything. “Well, the Midnight Crew might try to follow you. If their cars aren’t still broken. They can fix them fast, but I don’t think they can fix them that fast.”

“I’m not sure leaving me with it is such a good idea.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’ll be fine.” Sleuth says. Not that he completely believes what he’s saying.

“Alright.” Maillady finally says. “Stay safe, Sleuth.”

Sleuth nods.

Maillady turns and walks away, her letter opener gripped tightly in her hand. Sleuth pulls open the back door to Deferrer’s cab and gets inside.

Deferrer enters the driver’s seat, buckles herself up, and steps on it. Sleuth is pushed back into the seat from the acceleration. “You’re putting a lot on her shoulders, Sleuth. Are you sure she can handle it?”

“What do you care?” Sleuth says as he watches buildings pass by. “She's just competition to you anyway.”

Deferrer's shoulders rise and fall as she takes a breath. “I wouldn't want her dead just because she did what you told her to.”

Sleuth looks out the window for a moment. He's worried about the exact same thing. But the Midnight Crew and the Felt should be more interested in Sleuth and Dick and Inspector than Deferrer and Maillady. And if they know what’s good for them they won’t mess with the mail. “She’ll be fine.” Sleuth says. Still, there’s a lot that can go wrong.

“I hope you know what you’re doing.” Deferrer says. She looks at Sleuth in the rearview mirror. “Where are we going, Sleuth? I knew when I woke up today I’d be driving you all over town. I stopped at your apartment, and well, you already know what happened there.”

“Who did it?” Sleuth asks.

“I don’t know.”

“So it was the Midnight Crew.” Sleuth says more than asks. If the Felt were in a searching mood they probably wouldn’t burn down Sleuth’s apartment.

“Probably.” Deferrer says. “Your cop friend was there. He wants to talk to you.”

“What about?”

“He said he doesn’t really care what you’re getting into or whether it gets you killed but if you start blowing up his city in the process it’s his business.”

Sleuth doesn’t say anything. Anarchy Repressor won’t be a problem, it’s Diamonds Droog’s pet detective that’ll give Sleuth trouble.

“He also wants to know if you’re ever gonna solve that murder or if he should just throw your ass in the slammer for it anyway.”

Huh. It looks like he will be a problem then.

“He also wants your mailwoman’s number.”

Sleuth looks forward. “What’d you tell him?”

“That I’d find it out for him myself and give it to him.” Deferrer says with a satisfied grin.

Sleuth raises a brow. “So you gave him your phone number?”

“Yeah, why?” Deferrer looks in the rearview mirror. Then it hits her. “Oh. How often does he call?”

“From what I hear, every night. And late, since he’s married to his job.”

Deferrer grips the steering wheel tightly and frowns. “Dammit.”

“You could always give him Maillady’s number.” Sleuth says. “But you’ll have to get it from her. I ain’t telling.”

Deferrer glares through the mirror. “That’s not fair, Sleuth.”

Sleuth throws up his hands in defense. “This isn’t my problem. I had nothing to do with it.” He says. “Besides, he’s a nice guy. Don’t be so quick to shoot him down.”

“But- He’s-” Deferrer groans and sighs. “Just tell me where we’re going.”

“English Performance Hall.”

Deferrer looks through the mirror with her brows furrowed together. “Sleuth, if you’re looking to commit suicide, give me a heads up so I can drop you off a mile away.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll make it out of there.” Sleuth says. “Alive, at the very least.” He adds on quickly.

“I thought we’d be driving away from all the trouble you’ve been getting into, not heading straight towards it.”

Sleuth looks into the mirror. “You’re basically working for Wealthy Quantifier now, with how you’re helping me. Sending everyone straight into trouble is how she works.” Sleuth says. “It’s part of what I have to do for her.”

She looks back expectantly. “And that is?”

“She wants me to make a show of destroying the Sapphire.” Sleuth explains. “I need an audience. That’s what we’re going to get.”

Deferrer looks forward. “I’m starting to regret this decision.”

Sleuth huffs amusedly. “Welcome to my life for the past three days.”

Deferrer starts aggressively tearing through traffic, headed downtown.

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Okay, here's what we're going to do. We're going to pretend that this segment was actually part of Part 24. In a minute I'm going to retroactively make this the case.

The reason I'm doing this is because the part I'm writing now is getting long. Long like five thousand words, probably going to end up six thousand, and that's way too big. But the problem is that the only reasonable place to cut it leaves me with this piece right here, and it's too short. So I'm moving things around so that I get two meaty parts instead of ending up with a monster of a segment.

Is this focus on word counts per part stupid? Probably. But you'll just have to suffer it with me.

[Domoz]

Wow okay, sorry for how terrible this probably is, I've been in a bit of a slump lately

The Pirate and the Empress
7/?

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Ianthe sits up awake in the shadow of her tree, glaring at her guard with half lidded eyes. She cautiously feels where she's been tearing at her rope, but it's hard to tell how many strands she's ripped with her raw fingertips. With a grimace she decides to give her fingers a few hours to heal over.

Her guard gives her a funny look, the Empress growls at him and moves farther back into the shadows; she watches as he shrugs, yawns, and goes off to wake up another troll to watch her.

Ianthe lets out a sigh far more bratty than royal, and curls up in an attempt at sleep. She does manage to snatch a few hours (although to her it seems barely more than a moment) before high noon hits and the heat brings her back to consciousness.

She struggles for to stay in the shadows and is saved when her watcher takes some (platonic, oh she hopes to god platonic) pity on her and leads her around an outcrop of rocks, where the rest of the crew is sleeping in the comfortable darkness(compared to the harsh light of high noon, anyways) of a rocky overhang.

If Ianthe weren't so tired she would certainly be angry at this little injustice. But she is tired, so her energy is more focused on getting to sleep, which she does nearly as soon as she sits down.
It is exhausting, being held captive.


But once again her sleep does not seem to last nearly long enough, and she is awakened once again, this time by shouting and quite a lot of sand flying in her face. Groggily, she opens her eyes to find two trolls being restrained, they are hissing and shouting obscenities at each other. There even looks to be a few spatters of blue on the ground, though she can't tell from which troll. No one seems especially concerned, the Empress can even hear laughing, and what sounds suspiciously like trolls placing bets.

It looks like the punches are going to start flying again, but another pirate comes between them and starts shouting (and Ianthe is still to sleepy to understand what he's saying, but there seems to be an awful lot of fucks thrown in there).

When he's done, everyone moves away, making various noises of distaste. The troll that was doing the yelling sits down quite close to Ianthe, still mumbling obscenities.

She shakes her head to wake herself up and looks the cursing troll over. He's kind of shortish, horns are small, little more than nubs, and most interesting is his symbol, or rather, it's color. Instead of anything that could possibly run through the veins of a troll, his symbol (hardly more than a little charm hanging from his neck) is colored a darkish gray.

She wriggles around for a few moments until she rests comfortably with her back to a rock. The troll across from her keeps mumbling and she tries to catch a better glimpse of his symbol, but it's hard the way it keeps twisting and turning on it's chain.

Before she can ask about it, the nubby horned troll growls “what the hell are you looking at?”

Ianthe is tired, and at this point she doesn't see why she should waste any of her court formality on pirates. She replies bluntly, “Trying to figure out your blood color, is that a problem?”

It's probably a bad idea to ask that question to someone who's pretty obviously trying to hide their place on the hemospectrum.

This revelation is made obvious to the Empress when the pirate's scowl deepens and he punches a rock.
Then he punches it again.

Then he turns and looks at Ianthe and spits at her,”Yes that's a fucking problem! I should have known that the fucking Empress of all people would-”

He goes on yelling for a while, no one seems to care, witch is red flag to Ianthe that he probably acts like this all the time.
She does learn a valuable fact from his rant, however.
Dualscar has had it ordered that she, Ianthe, the Empress, the prisoner, is not to be harmed in any way.

This is good news, and something the sea troll figures she probably should have thought about earlier.
As the angry troll leaves, she sets back on cutting her rope with renewed vigor.


On a different part of the island, a captain examines his ship.

A ram-horned troll standing behind him asks, “How long do you suppose we'll be here?”

Dualscar sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, “I'm not sure, yet. I think at the very least a week, probably two”

He shakes his head, “We won't bring her with us the first time around, of course, it's just a matter of keeping them from firing on us so we have enough time to deliver our demands...”

He trails off, tapping his fingers on his arm.

For a minute or two there is silence between them, besides the crash of the waves. Then Ariel, seemly out of the blue says, “You pity her”

Ahab struggles to compose himself, glad the psionic can't see his face. “I've no idea what you're talking about, we both know I don't have a matesprit”

The red-blood laughs, “Yes, it's true that you don't, and it's also true that you pity her, the Empress, I mean.”

It goes silent for a few moments more as Dualscar tries to fight the purple he can feel creeping it's way onto his face.

“Is is really that obvious?”

They both know she smiles at this, they've known each other for so long.

“Only to me, Orphaner”

He sighs and closes his eyes.
“It's pointless to pursue her, I know. As soon as she's back on the throne I may as well have never existed to her”

“Well what's the harm in trying?”

They know there could be quite a lot of harm in that course of action.
They also know he's going to try anyways.

show spoiler

hide spoiler

oh
did I forget to mention how shippy this fic will get
whoops

Also, would anyone care for a bit of backstory behind Dualscar and Ariel
I've got a few ideas rolling around as to why they're such ~great friends~

[penguinbound]

Trial & Error
Chapter 2: Quirky is the Word
For convenient reference, the main characters and their handles-
BC: Blair
DE: Skip
FG: Henry
HI: Garrison

show spoiler

hide spoiler

BC: so.
YU: I know what you're going to say.
YU: So let's skip that and get right to personal stuff.
YU: I am Andrew. Call me Andy.
BC: alright andy. i'm blair, nice to see you.
YU: How old're you.
BC: you didn't have a question mark.
YU: Because I wasn't asking a question, Blair. I was just being polite in formalities.
YU: I already know your information, of course.
YU: But let's pretend I don't.
BC: ...okay. i'm eighteen.
YU: That's great, so am I.
YU: Blood type.
BC: what
YU: Oh, I guess it doesn't matter. Tell me about your friends.
BC: i only really know skip. we go to school together. henry's one of those jocks, but he seems to know a lot about video games. garrison's dad was in the military, i think, so he's pretty military-ish, i guess.
YU: That's interesting.
YU: So, what do you think of your little room.
BC: it's pretty terrible.
YU: You'll be there until you get a winning session.
BC: that's just what i needed to hear.
YU: Well, I think you'll be okay with this little group here.
YU: The others are pretty well equipped for this, I'd like to think.
BC: that's great.
BC: i hope you're right.
YU: I am.

KL: don't.
DE: what
DE: what did i do
KL: don't even be retarded around me.
DE: i don't understand
KL: okay you're already doing it
KL: what did i just tell you oh yeah
KL: STOP BEING RETARDED.
DE: jesus christ why did i have to get the crazy person :c

FG: Hello
TR: Nope.
FG: What do you mean nope
FG: I didn't ask you a question
FG: There was nothing to nope
TR: Oh, there was a lot to nope, Henry.
FG: Where did you get my name
TR: Andy. It doesn't matter, anyway.
TR: Listen, I don't want you too feel too bad, but
TR: I don't need your help, much.
FG: Welp
FG: I can already tell this partnership is going to be grand

HI: Sit right there.
AW: I'll tell you how I became the prince of a town called Bel-Air
HI: Oh
HI: FUCK.
AW: Hahaha what is your problem-o?????
HI: Of course I get the idiot.

Interrupting the silence that had fallen, Garrison's voice rang clear. "Who want's to trade?"

In response, the room filled with: No trading is allowed, or you will be VAPORIZED.

AW: I'll have you know I was the smartest person in my school!
AW: Just because I happen to like stuff from places doesn't mean I'm stupid!
HI: I hate you.
AW: Aww, I totally give a care!

An Hour After Meeting...

"Andy's-he's different, at the least," Blair leaned back in his chair, and ran fingers through his hair. The other three sat in a similar leaned back position. "He knows too much to be normal, at least. He's kinda creepy. He still asked for my information, even though he already knew it."

"Fuck, you should talk to my guy," Henry blinked. "Fuckin' noped me. I think his name was Randy. Hell, I don't know. Don't care, really. He's kind of a jack ass. I don't know if I like this group as much as the last one."

"Yeah, no shit. This group is stupid fucked up," Garrison growled. "That chick, Sheila, started spouting out fucking Bel-air lyrics. I mean, what the hell? Who just does that?"

"Sheila, apparently."

"Shut the hell up, Blair."

"Lydia is crazy," Skip finally spoke. "I don't think she likes me, guys. This entire group seems to be kind of crazy, but they work together so freakin' well! Did you see the last time they grouped a game? Beat it in four hours, max stats, all the best shit. Can you imagine what they'll do to this game?"

"Well, let's hope they aren't too irritating." Garrison mumbled, and turned back to his own computer.

New Character Handles:

show spoiler

hide spoiler

YU: Andrew
KL: Lydia
TR: Randy
AW: Sheila

A/N:

show spoiler

hide spoiler

And next time we'll actually get to them playing the game!

[kaoticAntagonist]

So I thought I would do some bloodswap stuff. Does anyone want to see that, or would you rather rip off my face and do awful, awful things down the hole?

ive always liked bloodswaps so i think it would be cool. cant speak for anyone else and their face-ripping, hole filling tendencies though.

[SkaianRedeemer]

15ii's 6500 words. With 15i at 3200 or so, I'm just kidding myself if I think I can actually assemble all three parts of 15 into a single chapter. I'll probably go on record with 15i as 15 and 15ii and iii as 16, even though that means my nemesis loses its significance of having the same chapter number as the Humans + Trolls count (of course, 4 Humans + 12 Trolls + 1 Dersian + 1 Horrorterror...). For now I'll keep going as planned. Editing this one is next, but it should be up tomorrow. In related news, me seguing from this to your author's note made me laugh out loud, Jim. I'm sorry for that, you're handling your chapter breaks much better than I.

EDIT: Oh boy oh boy, if I post it without posting another thing it will be dead on 675. Round numbers! It must be done.


@draconicAlgorithm: Oh, this is gonna be good. I like the premise immensely, even if it weren't Nepeta.

@Graven: Would it be kitchy of me to join the chorus of "SPAAAAAAACE?" Yes? Okay, fine then. Space doesn't exist anyways.

@Jim Groovester: As I was saying about your chapter breaks, I think this does work better as the end of the last chapter. Good luck on the upcoming, should be good!

@Domoz: I would go for some of that backstory! But I would advise against a flashback (as you haven't been doing those) or exposition. You've been handling universe building well enough without either so I'm sure you can handle it.

[Rebbe]

Oh man, I always forget to link to things whenever I post. I am so bad at this?? Forumsss.

Anyway, have some Aradia!fic

Wash Away the Dust

show spoiler

hide spoiler

Off-site once more