MSPA Fanfiction VII: End of Thread 6 Flash

[Paosheep]

"It deflates, just a little bit, when the Heir suddenly appears, crackling and glowing, with fury in his eyes."

...

"Nothing could possibly go wrong."

I choose to believe, until I am told otherwise, that we will return to this scenario once we reach the Heir of Rage. Also, I am glad that Future ArcFour has started writing tie-ins and callbacks, because that is exciting to me.

We have yet to see how embarrassed Future Paosheep will be at my assumptions, but if Past Paosheep is any indication, the outlook is rather grim.

[ArcFour]

Hahaha, awesome.

Unfortunately, due to the nature of how I want to write my Heirs, any time you see an Heir being used in a fic it's probably not going to be a callback.

However, there's a certain Sylph here who's just dying to be my Sylph of Breath short... ^_^

Also, the Mage of Mind? Someone suggested that the Thief of that fic be the Thief of Void, and I think I'm going to go with it.

So there's two, at least. Let's see how many more I can set up, aye? xD

[Graven_Image]

And Future Graven and I will still be playing RIFT and not writing any more 36 like useless POSes.

[ArcFour]

@Graven: You have filled me with sads, sir. I even wrote the Mage of Heart JUST FOR YOU. And this is how you repay me? O_Q

Actually, yeah, I think the Uncle in that fic was inspired by one of your Gurrenstuck shorts. I forget which one. xD

[ArcFour]

Okay, folks, here's the Bard!

11 – Bard

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You are the Bard of Heart, and you’re afraid.

When Sburb comes, you feel like it cheated you. The Bard of Heart, it called you, and with that name came power.

But your power, the legacy that the Game deigned to grant you, was useless.

The Bard of Heart, it called you, and the Game told you to follow the Rhythm of the Heart.

And every second of every hour of every day, you hear the roaring Beat of your Heart in your ears.

With every action you feel the blood pulse under your skin. With every word you feel it flow. With every thought it beats. You feel your heartbeat like a metronome.

This is the power that Sburb told you to use. This is the power that it decided you could use to win the Game.

You feel cheated.

But to let the others know, to complain, would be a disservice. When every battle leaves your Knight sicker and wasting, you know you cannot complain. When your Seer bursts into tears with every, uncontrolled vision, you know you cannot complain. When your Rogue is broken down, laid low by grief, you know you cannot complain.

You can only fight.

And you do fight. The Game granted you a power, useless as it may be. And so, in trade, you are given nothing else. You have no fearsome strength to wield with. You have no boundless speed to run with. You have no infinite intelligence to plan with.

Only a heartbeat and a blade.

And soon, you have fear.

Fear begins to haunt your every movement. Fear colors your voice. Fear lurks in the back of your mind, ever vigilant, ever whispering.

And it picks the worst time to strike.

The four of you against the Queen. It seems impossible, and yet, they had already faced the impossible in getting here in the first place. Perhaps this challenge can be surmounted, as well.

She quickly proves otherwise.

You fight, but the four of you are simply not enough, and you begin to fall, one by one. By some strange twist of fate, you are the last to fall. Your sword breaks in your hand, and you fall to your knees.

Bleeding blood and tears, you look and see your team, your friends, lying very, very still upon the ground, as the blood pools around them. That might be their chests moving with each breath. It may just be your imagination.

She stands before you, cold, cunning, arrogant, and fear makes you hesitate.

She slaps you. Another insult Sburb lays upon you. You fall to the ground, and there is nothing but blood and fear.

And your heartbeat in your ears.

And it’s strange. You want to die; it’s pulling you, even now, to just let go. But your heartbeat still rings in your ears, strong and loud.

And maybe that’s the point. As long as your heart is still beating, you’re alive. And if you’re alive, then all is not lost.

You are the Bard, and you must follow the Rhythm. And though fear clouds your mind, and your body wants to die, and your friends lie out of reach, your Heart still Beats.

And as long as that’s true, you can fight.

You stand, and smile.

So, next is the Heir of Heart! Are you excited? Because I'm ----EXCIT---ED!

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Also, in my idea for how this story ends, all four of them live through. Also, the Knight will probably be another short, later on.

Also, my next element is Rage. Any requests for classes to start out with? I want each element to have a different order in how I do the classes, so I won't start with the Bard, Knight, or Prince. Or the Heir, obviously.

Next, it's about time to pick the next Non-Canon Bonus Class! Here's your list of elements and classes!

Classes

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Ninja
Intern
Duchess
Outlaw
Priestess
Corporal
Rebel
Squire
Chieftain
Baron

Elements

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Toil
Ego
Might
Kindness
Oath
Guile
Faith
Impact
Choice
Umbrage

Enjoy, all!

[ch00_bakka]

Corporal of MIGHT!

[Rimbaum]

Priestess of Ego!

Also, for Rage, I'd like to see the Seer first. I think Seers are some of the more fascinating classes, but that's just me personally.

[Graven_Image]

@Graven: You have filled me with sads, sir. I even wrote the Mage of Heart JUST FOR YOU. And this is how you repay me? O_Q

Actually, yeah, I think the Uncle in that fic was inspired by one of your Gurrenstuck shorts. I forget which one. xD

Proooobably the Kamina one.

ANd don't worry, less sads will be forthcoming.

[ArcFour]

YAY FOR LESS SADS

And that's two votes so far for the bonus; Corporal of Might and Priestess of Ego. Anyone agree with either of these votes?

And sure, I'll start with the Seer.

[ch00_bakka]

I can't wait for the Bard of Rage. HoNk hOnK.

[Dermonster]

Outlaw of oath!

[ArcFour]

Ooh, we have a third pick, now!
The Priestess of Ego (my personal favorite, as it seems full of metaphorical meaning, and you all know how much I love that)
The Corporal of Might (corporals were the leader of a squad (at least, that's where the etymology comes from), so I could probably make that fit with Might)
The Outlaw of Oath (This one sounds pretty interesting; it makes me think of an epic story or something. It might be difficult to make short xD)

Keep voting, folks! I'll pick the winner after I post the Heir.

And, Ch00, I'm looking forward to the Bard, too. :3

[Paosheep]

Wow, Future Me became Present Me a lot sooner than I expected. Just one post!

The part I like best about Bard of Heart is how the tropes tell me they'll probably win, and yet I have no idea how that is possible. It kind of puts me in the Bard's shoes, and I like it.

And the Rage I am most anticipating is probably the Sylph of Rage. The whole living in your element without controlling your element thing you've got going is one I really like, but that could have several distinct and exclusive implications when your element is rage. I look forward to it. ^_^

Also also, Dermonster, have I mentioned how much I liked your fic? I really enjoyed it.

Outlaw of oath!

Out of all the possible classes for Oath, this is the one I think I'd like to see most, so I'll vote for that. (even though the Outlaw of Faith has a special place in my heart)

Unless, of course, you wanted to do the Intern of Umbrage, which is currently the combination I find most hilarious. XD






EDIT: The post below this one has elated me.

[ArcFour]

Paosheep, you get bonus points. Do you want to know why?

Because that was exactly the same Title that I found most hilarious when I rolled up those classes and elements.

Just for that, you win. YOU. WIN.

The next one, after the Heir, will be the Intern of Umbrage. I WILL MAKE IT HAPEN.

[Graven_Image]

MORE THIRTY SIX. AT LAST.

Maiden of Space

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Step.

Beep.

Step.

RIIIIIIP.

The Land of Jungle and Frogs is not the most tectonically stable planet around.

But it's not the ground that you're worried about.

The tear in reality is about yea big. Big enough to cleave the Space Temple in half. Big enough to spew out chunks of the planet on the other side, the DJ's by the looks of things.

A dirt clod the size of a minivan pulverizes the statue next to you. You have to move fast.

Your slingbag contains all of the necessary equipment to seal a spatial rift such as this. You pull out a long metal pole, probably 5 or so feet in length.

Well, of course the bag's bigger on the inside. Duh. That's the whole point of being the Maiden of Space.

As you run for the rift, you pull out a small calculator-like device as well. You aim it at the anomaly and mash "GO". It whirs and sparks, regurgitating a ticker-tape the length of your forearm filled with numbers and symbols.

And according to the third line from the bottom, sixth number, eighteenth digit, you need to hold that pole of yours up riiiiight- NOW.

Electricity arcs from the end of the SPATIOSTATIC ATTUNER. The TRANSPLANAR RIFT closes with the sound of a quadrillion atoms suturing themselves back into a cohesive unit. The TEMPLE OF ECHIDNA is restored to its rightful state of not-torn-apart-ness.

You take a good look around, certain no other holes in reality will open in the next hour.

You walk two steps, lay down, and fall asleep. This job is exhausting.

------

Here's brother dearest. Also known as the Agent of Time.

More like Time to give this Agent what-for.

Deep in the halls of Derse, your semi-inebriated dreamself attempts to put together a reasonable assessment of why the Agent is so much of a pillock. Sadly, because you are dreaming and you've always dreamt of being allowed to taste alcohol, you could be said to be less than successful in this endeavor.

He pulls some mystic temporal hoo-ha about how he's "supposed" to be doing what he's doing. How he's only using that stupid space-ripping pocket watch because he's only "allowed" to use that one device.

You call bullcrap on that and bullcrap on him, too. You say some things that are quite unladylike, but rather drunk-like. You float erratically back to your tower, head pounding and vision blurry. And you sleep.

------

The advantage of having a hung-over dreamself is that it has the polar opposite effect on your waking mind. You feel cheery! Hyper, even! You grab your TARDISBAG and hit the road, eager for a quest to fulfill, or a puzzle to solve, or anything that will allow you to erase the memory of your ornery brother and capitalize on your current state of antidrunkenness.

RIIIIIIIIP.

The Temple of Echidna tears itself in half again.

No big deal. It's your job, after all.

As you run full-tilt into the raging anomaly, you briefly reflect on the fact that a life made tolerable by rendering one of your only two bodies massively drunk can't possibly be healthy.

I did say, however, you only reflected briefly.

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WHOO YES I AM BACK UH HUH GONNA MAKE ANOTHER ONE ANY DAY NOW




ANY DAY NOW I SWEAR

[Dermonster]

*Scratches head* Hehe, I forgot to thank you guys for all the positive response for my fic. I usually get a lot less than that but I suppose my quality has gone up a bit, combined with thread circumstances and trends (Read: ArcFour).

So I really appreciate it! Feel free to take a concept or two from it if you'd like (Like the prototyping time shuffle). The character of the Heir Transcendent is an interesting one for certain. Makes me think what a Mage Transcendent would be. Probably just a mage, but moreso.

Goddamnit I was cheated out of Outlaw of Oath ;.;

But then that does sound pretty damn amusing so it all evens out.

[ArcFour]

12 – Heir

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I am the Heir of Heart. And to those of you who observe, I have only two requests.

For my first request, I would ask that you listen.

From my early days, I knew I was meant for great things. There was no specific cause for this knowledge. Clouds of pictures did not reveal themselves in my dreams, and dark whisperings did not haunt my nightmares. Towers of gold and amethyst never appeared in my dreamscape.

My surety was more ambient than that. It was more of a vague feeling, having no causes with which to verify, but still undeniably true for all of that.

I would do great things.

I was right, in the end.

As I grew, I discovered a love of gardening. When possible, my Mother would bring any plant she could get her hands on, so that I could have something new to take care of. She was proud of her Daughter, her green-thumbed progeny.

As I grew, I discovered a love of animals. I raised small creatures, simple creatures, and cared for them as best I could. I raised chickens, but never for eating; these were my pets, my charges, and they were mind to care for.

As I grew, I discovered a love of my friends. Every one of them, I loved in my own unique way. They might never have understood the depths of it, but I did. And I cared for them in the same way I cared for my plants and my animals; I nurtured them, healed them, and did everything I could to bring the best out of them.

I loved everything, in my own, naïve way. Everything that moved and everything that breathed and everything that reached for the sun, I loved with all of my heart.

When Sburb came, my world ended.

Sburb is a monstrosity. It’s a vile Machine, a vicious Process dedicated to creating through complete destruction, and the only way to succeed seemed to be through war and death and blood.

My world was gone, but my love still remained. I would not fight.

As long as it moved, and breathed, and reached, I couldn’t help but love it.

Somehow, that was enough.

The creatures, the constructs of the horrific Machine that were sent to hurt us, didn’t attack me. They didn’t want to. They came to me, and I protected them.

When these sad creatures failed in the purpose they were given, when Imps and Ogres and Basilisks stopped fighting us altogether, Derse sent its own agents after my friends.

My friends protected themselves, but they knew how I felt, how I was, and they did not kill. My friends loved me as deeply as I loved them, in the end.

The Derse agents were fought to a standstill, overcome with almost simplistic ease, but mercy was had. And with mercy came a realization in their eyes.

They, too, followed me, because they saw in me my Goal.

To win the Game in my own way. Through Peace, not through War. Through Life, not through Death.

Envoys were sent to Queens, and negotiations started. A first in the history of the Medium, perhaps, but somehow, I was heeded.

Slowly, but surely, things changed.

It took time, but we Players were young, and those of the Medium were near ageless. Time, and words, and a determination to succeed.

And it happened. I had done the unthinkable. The Royals of Prospit met the Royals of Derse, and an alliance was formed.

Our New World would be for us all, not merely for those who Play.

With time, we could unravel the secrets of the Game. With time, we could create our World.

With Time, we might have succeeded.

But He came. A Cancer. An Archagent.

He found me when I had no others to fight at my side, and I knew.

I knew he would never accept peace. He would never accept my ways.

One of use would die today. It was only a matter of choice; him, or me.

All I had to do was take up my power once, and excise him like the tumor he was.

All I had to do was kill. Just once.

I chose not to.

And as I lay dying, I asked for two favors of you, observers. The first was to listen to my tale.

The second is to remember.

I want you to know the tale of a girl who thought she could change the universe.

I want you to understand the mind of a girl who had nearly accomplished the impossible.

I want you to see the horror of the Game, and the fates of all those who play.

I want you to remember the story of a pathetic girl who loved too dearly.

Remember the Heir of Heart.

Remember the girl who failed.

Remember me.

Please.


...


Please.

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...And there we go, folks; the first failed Heir. As I said, not all of the Heirs succeed. Some are destined to fail from the beginning. And this? In my headcanon, this is the reason Jack Noir exists, in every possible session.

This was very sad for me to write, but I looked forward to it, because I really liked the idea. Next, the Rage set, to be started sometime tomorrow, as well as the Intern of Umbrage.

[SORD]

hey guys its been a while
hope you're down for the most bizarre ship
here's the first part:

If We Can Land A Man On The Moon, Surely I Can Win Your Heart

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TG: so you've been cybering with the lisping alien hacker
TG: for twelve years
GG: he doesnt lisp anymore, his teeth grew back normal!!
TG: and youre telling me now because
GG: because it wasnt………………………………
TG: time
GG: ..............................
TG: time
GG: ...................
TG: time then shades
GG: ..........
TG: time
GG: ...............
TG: time/shades lets go
GG: .......
GG: ....
GG: ...
TG: oh my fucking god
GG: ..
GG: .
GG: time
GG: to tell you, i mean
GG: it wasnt the right time to tell you i guess
GG: i didnt think it would matter to you!!
TG: well
TG: maybe it does
TG: maybe youre not my ghost slime goth witch sister niece onetime incestuous love interest
TG: but if you remember
TG: we just like saved the world together
TG: this one time
TG: perhaps you recall
TG: cloning up some frogs
TG: your ghost slime brother getting stabbed like six times or whatever
TG: your ghost slime cousin sex god idol friendbro dying like innumerable times
TG: you wouldnt recall that sorry
TG: you werent in those timelines
TG: i was though
TG: dying
TG: for you jade
TG: always for you
TG: so you would someday get laid without resorting to transdimentional booty calls
GG: okay!!!!!!!
GG: i get it, i should have told you!!
GG: dont be a dick
GG: and we havent been cybering, and it is not a booty call!
GG: i dont even know what that is
GG: booty call, i mean, i know what cybering is
TG: fuck dont tell me that jade
TG: i know that rose has seen some serious shit
TG: ive read her horrifying slash fics
TG: ive seen that two thousand yard fandom stare she gets
TG: she half-sleeps at night and ships old ass wizards all day
TG: but youre the only pure and good thing i got left now that egbert is railing that deplorable female
TG: please dont tell me you got your sex ed when you webcamd with some internet wannabe humbert humbert
TG: i couldnt handle it
GG: daaaaaaave
GG: shut up
GG: youre not as funny as you think you are!!
GG: i learned about cybering the same way you did, fox newscasts
GG: just because i know what it is doesnt mean i do it!
GG: and dont be jealous! you know i love you the most
GG: forever and always
GG: ill always be your bro dave, no matter what kind of dipshit things you say!
GG: ^_^
TG: i wish nepeta never taught you that smiley
TG: every time i see it i reach for the razor
TG: lil cal has to grab it from me
TG: otherwise its up the river not cross the bridge
TG: goodnight sweet prince
TG: or goodnight sweet witch which sounds pretty shitty
TG: goodnight sweet knight would be ok
GG: dave oh my god
GG: shut up!!!!!!!!! >
TG: thanks for interrupting my soliloquy
TG: how else is the audience supposed to relate to me
TG: im now some kind of horrible antihero and everyone is rooting for me to be eaten by my own hubris
GG: omg i cant even deal with this right now
GG: stop
TG: cant stop
GG: stop
TG: wont stop
GG: stop
TG: ok guess ill stop tell me though how long have you been all up in his grill
GG: stop
GG: stop
GG: stop
GG: sorry i was just copy-pasting
GG: and i havent been up in his grill
GG: thats means mouth, right?
GG: how could i get in his mouth over the internet, dave!
GG: RIDDLE ME THAT, FUCKASS!!!!
TG: ok sorry troll messiah ill get right on that
GG: im sorry, i didnt mean go all karkat at you
GG i am just so sick of people misunderstanding!
GG: first john and then rose and now you
GG: not to mention bec
GG: and grandpa
TG: wow
TG: didnt realize you were getting it from all angles
TG: kind of shitty
TG: esp from your grandad isnt he dead and stuffed on your mantle or some shit
GG: well he looks at me disapprovingly from the mantle!
GG: and its not like ive done anything!
GG: i didnt even ask him to visit, it was all his idea
GG: it could be totally platonic for all you know
TG: thats not what terezi smells
GG: does she know how your FACE smells????
TG: i hope so she licked it enough
TG: its prob different now that i got to shave though
TG: barbasol changes everything jade
TG: everything
GG: dave i do not even care a little about your face and its hair!!
GG: i just wanted you to wish me luck!
GG: this that so much to ask?
TG: ok my darling paradox fate wife
TG: good luck
TG: when he breaks your heart ill be here waiting
GG: oh my god dave shut up!!!
GG: the next time i see you i am going to shoot you in your stupid mouth!
TG: too bad your devilbeast dog will send your shots into the sun
TG: or my torso
TG: whichever

[Blueberry]

thread title taken care of! sorry it took me so long, i've had a busy few days.

[Unibear]

ArcFour... That was kinda sad :/ But still awesome!

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Oh and do the Rebel Of Kindness xD He could be jamaican or something haha

[ArcFour]

Thanks, Blueberry!

[appositeNautilus]

God FUCKING dammit, Jack. ;_;
Nice one, ArcFour. Another vote for the Priestess of Ego over here.
Here be all where my altsession fic is up at, since you asked.

[mythmonster2]

I put up another vote for Outlaw of Oath, jut because the two terms seem at odds.

[Blaperile]

So, it's been some time since I've last posted here or just checked the threads. Archive of our Own has completely engulfed me.

Now then, I'd like to link to my account, which features 4 different works by me so far.

- Fairly Odd Session: Timmy Turner from "Fairly Odd Parents" plays SBURB along with Chester and A.J., these are all short stories of their adventure through the game.

- Papfiction: A silly one-shot I made after the 5X SHOWDOWN COMBO flash came, it basically features the panels of Karkat calming Gamzee down, but with words.

- Ancestral Thoughts: Thoughts of the Ancestors during certain moments in their lives.

- A Quest of Futility: Collection of stories about Doomed characters.

So yeah, that's all for the shamelessly advertising. >.>

Then, what I mainly came here for, is a question. In my newest fic, AQF I mentioned above, the first chapter (and only so far) featured a pesterlog. I heard that there was a skin for doing this, but I can't find a way how to use the skin in any way.

I had to go through loads of trouble with replacing things and stuff in my fanfic so the pesterlog could be decently posted.

My question is, is there a simple way for this? I've seen a lot of fanfictions which features pesterlogs, and those people don't seem to have that much trouble to insert their pesterlogs.

Thank you in advance for helping!

[SkaianRedeemer]

@Blaperile: Oh, there's no easy way to do it, you just get used to it. To a degree. Namely, you get used to the frustration.

One of the tricks I use for my pesterlogs is to put them in blockquotes, which sticks a vertical line on the left side that looks... well, nice enough. I had intended to use a left margin but AO3 didn't support it at the time. Beyond that I encase the entire block in a Courier New span, though AO3 usually spits at that and I have to save it once just so it can make its mistakes and I can correct them (namely, by putting in the <p> tags it strangely does not). It might work out better if I tried setting the spans to work specifically with blockquotes, but when the tower is this rickety I don't like to shove it.