MSPA Fanfiction VII: End of Thread 6 Flash

[Aldaris]

Heh. Gold. Aurum. Au-rum, geddit? Cos pirates like rum.

Nice story so far, looking forward to more.

[SkaianRedeemer]

Gen fics, of pretty much any type so long as it isn't grimdark. If there are any post-SBURB fics where the kids keep their powers, that would be interesting as well. Really, though, quality matters more than content .

Try PTSD (Post Time-Shift Dave). Beyond that, I can't think of anything, because I have been a poor reader these past few months and a poorer bookmarker. Or a very good reccer for that matter. Go read some Red Pen maybe.

One trouble with finding you recs in the forum is that you... can't find anything in the forum. It's a great place for finding new fic and for having conversations about the fics but if you want to find something... WELL...

But maybe someone else will have some recommendations.

[linkhyrule5]

Read them all, sadly . (Still waiting on the auto-invite so I can subscribe, lol.) And yeah, I noticed that about the forums . Dug through the first few indexes, but without summaries I was going entirely on titles, so I figured I'd ask. Thanks anyway for your help!

[ArcFour]

Hiya, Link!

I've found the best way to find the stories is to just follow the signatures of whoever has posted recently. There's no great archive system in place, but follow a couple of links and you can see if the poster has stuff you like. Unfortunately, you'll miss stories done by people who haven't posted recently, but that will just require some forum-trekking. Also, I especially tend to read the stories by people who have done a bunch of stories; it doesn't always indicate quality, but it does tend to indicate that they've seen a good amount of support for their stories (otherwise, why keep posting them on the forum)?

*points unsubtly to his own signature, waggling his eyebrows suggestively*

[linkhyrule5]

Already read yours . And thanks for the suggestion - I'll go signature-trawling, then

[Dermonster]

I've been told that my POS is pretty not POS, so there's that.

(Feel free to leave a comment. I get pretty much no feedback on these things aside from an occasional 'great!' which is nice but does jack shit about telling me what was great.)

[penguinbound]

Something A Little Special
On A Steel Horse He Doesn't Ride

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>Be the maroon blooded troll.

You are now EQUIUS ZAHHAK.

>Examine situation.

It's pretty simple really. You're being beat up by some HIGHBLOODS. It happens. You don't like it, but it happens enough that it's almost routine. They did ruin any kind of respect you have for anyone higher than yellow blood, and they broke your glasses, but, hey. If you're going to be TOUGH, you gotta learn to take shit before you give it.

Or something.

>Fight back.

You don't know how well that will go down, considering you can't feel your arms. And they took your guns. And you have nothing that resembles any kind of muscular structure what so ever.

You're pretty weak. Actually, if you look up the definition of weak, it says "see: Equius Zahhak."

Ha ha.

>Get beat up.

You're almost entirely positive that's already happening.

>Get finished being beat up.

Oh. Wait for it...

hold on...

one...

more...

Alright. They're done. Probably. They may be back. You would shrug but you aren't sure you have shoulders anymore.

>Rise.

You don't think you have legs, either.

Besides, this blood puddle is pretty warm.

Your hive is cold.

Okay, listen, you're just trying to make the best of a bad situation. That's what your idol, TROLL CLINT EASTWOOD would do.

What a hunk.

>Crawl for help.

Your arms are broken. Maybe. Honestly it's hard to tell if you even have a body. You're pretty numb. You wonder what TROLL CLINT EASTWOOD would do.

>Be Troll Clint Eastwood.

You think it'd be pretty rude to leave a very injured troll by himself, so you stay as EQUIUS ZAHHAK. Even though it'll be so boring.

So

boring

>be troll clint eastwood be troll clint eastwood be troll clint eastwood

You are now TROLL CLINT EASTWOOD.

...

Not. You are still the broken boy. Ha ha. The joke, it seems, would be upon you.

>Gain feeling in your arms.

Actually now that you mention it, you are starting to get feeling back. You'll just push yourself up and oh dear eastwood there's a hole in your hand.

Why is there a hole in your hand?

Did... did they shoot your hand with your own gun?

Those dirty birdies.

>Make them pay.

They end up throwing you into a dumpster and they shove your shoe into your mouth.

Well.

Open Pesterlog:

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assaultedAtlas [AA] began trolling tiredAsomniac[TA]

AA: um heLLo tavros
AA: are you there
AA: im going to pretend you are
AA: i am stuck in a trashcan
AA: and i think i am dying from bLoodLoss
AA: so if you couLd pLease come and heLp me
AA: so i couLd not die
AA: thank you

assaultedAtlas [AA] ceased trolling tiredAsomniac [TA]

TA: ...wait what?

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Some bloodswappin' stuff. Maroon Equius is a weak guy who just wants to get stronger, like his idol Troll Clint Eastwood. Unfortunately he's not too good at doing that.

[orngjce223]

Oh, this one's on AO3 only because its antecedents are as well.

Not sure I even want to continue this, but I like the AU it's in, so...

tentacleTherapist's SBURB Walkthrough v6.0 (December 4, 2011)

In this universe, Sburb is a game and Homestuck is fictional, but EB, TT, TG and GG are still intact, and Rose writes a very different walkthrough as a result.

[Varkarrus]

Am I allowed to repost a fic? I posted it in the last thread and only 1 person commented on it, but someone on Hidden Level reminded me of it, so I showed it to them and they all thought it was really funny so now I think reposting it here might be a good idea I guess?

[OrangeAipom]

horseGametes holdensGarbage [HG] began courting Bro Strider I guess [TG]
HG: 'ello Governor
HG: 'ow Goes it?
TT: Do not want.
TT: Baka.
HG: ?
TT: Baka means moron.
HG: THats fine I suppose
HG: Ill try to keep my temper in cHeck
HG: We are friends, after all
TT: Urusai.
TT: Friendship. Isnt. An. Sti. Hentai.
HG: Ive researcHed the matter using your 'uman Global information networks
HG: Your kind releases oxytocin when you orGasm
TT: (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻

and then there were balloons

the end

[Blueberry]

hey if anyone has an AO3 invite lying around you could toss it my way??

edit: i got one, thanks!!!

[Dermonster]

What have you written? I have two right now.

[Liza]

Okay so this is my first post and hopefully I'm doing it right - I've lurked for a while, fwiw.

Posting this to see if anyone thinks it’s worth finishing, I guess. I have very clear ideas about how the rest of it goes, but I’m worried it’s so overdone and florid as to be not worth it

I was going to wait until this was finished to post it here but I got impatient, so you can have it in all its quarter-finished glory, haha.

It's Been a Long, Long Time
(Mobius Trip/Hadron Kaleido) Rating: PG at most?

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Session 1
The actual first session of what goes by many names but can generally be called “The Game” is so shrouded in the mists of time as to be practically apocryphal. All that can be definitively said is that while each session starts with the same basic archetypes in play, those archetypes can and have changed over time, usually based on prototypes introduced by players and kept in subsequent sessions for reasons hidden in the twisting code of The Game itself.

A little known fact is that not all deviations and developments come solely from the players. Some merely emerge.

All of the above is to serve as clarification that by “session one” what is meant is the first session that at the precise same moment two agents - one Pospitian male and one Dersite female – opened their eyes in their respective ectobiology tanks and were welcomed into existence in the war that forms reality.

His name, taken from fragments of the host species' language and culture, was designated as Mobius Trip. Bright and boisterous, a singer of songs and a lover of travel. A true son of the gold and blue, the shining kingdom of light. A bringer of joy and a lightener of hearts. To hear his laughing voice was to know Prospit, and love it.

Her name, derived by the same process, was Hadron Kaleido. Mysterious and silent, a swift stalker and lover of puzzles. A true daughter of the red and violet, the dark kingdom of shadows. An enchanter of hearts and a bringer of deadly peace. To see her killing dance was to know Derse, and respect it.

As what was to be always, they first met on the battlefield. As always, they were perfectly matched. In that first encounter (as in many of the subsequent ones) they killed each other. Not remotely a surprising or remarkable outcome of the meeting of two complementary Agents of the opposing kingdoms.

The remarkable part was what happened next: as they lay dying next to each other, they gazed up into the clouds. And in their final moment, came to the same realization: they were not so different. This realization came to late to do much of anything about it, though for the remainder of that session, soldiers of both sides told the tale of the bodies found on the battlefield: man and woman, pospitian and dersite laying facing each other, hands entwined so tightly they could not be separated, fingers forming a grid like the ground they lay on: black and white and inexorably linked.

[Dermonster]

*Slightly confused by lack of response.*

[calculatedFlame]

Masks
Rating- PG probably, if not G

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,
Your name is John Egbert and you are wearing a mask. It wasn’t always a mask, though. It used to be just who you were – a kind of derpy, cheerful kid who’s obsessed with some great movies. But, now, it doesn’t seem so important. You still keep up this façade of being the same person you were when you started this game, though. You can’t just become moody, or fall into despair just because everyone is dying around you and you have already died once. No, you have to be strong, you have to be a friendleader and a palhoncho. It is your job to keep everyone together and from flying off the handle. Because, after all, you are the Heir of Breath. You can’t let your friends know that you have been brought painfully back to earth.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your name is Rose Lalonde and you are wearing a mask. You guess you always have been, and always will be. You are the cool head of the group, the voice of logic streaked with sarcasm. But, in your rare moments of vulnerability, you know that you are just a kid. You aren’t a psychologist, you aren’t a master strategist, and you definitely aren’t an adult, no matter how hard you try to be one. You are scared though. You don’t know why you do most of the things you do anymore. Destroying your first gate was just the start of it. Now you can’t stop destroying things. Addiction is a powerful thing indeed. But if you stop destroying things, what would you do? You just wish this game would end. You are only thirteen after all. But you can’t let the others know that. They need you to be cool, calm, and collected. You wish you could just break down and cry, but you are needed to help make plans, and get rid of the flaws in the ones already made. You are the Seer of Light after all. You can’t let your friends know that you are feeling darker and darker each day.

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Your name is Dave Strider and you are wearing a mask. You need to stay the coolkid, never showing emotion except ironically. You can’t let the others know that you are terrified of dying, because you know that you already have died a thousand times. You have seen doomed Daves come back and save your ass a thousand times, only to be cut down by Jack or one of your agents. You know that you are only one misstep away from meeting the same fate. Even worse, you are feeling useless. It’s all of the other Daves who are doing the real work. Bro, too, until Jack got him. Then you couldn’t even do anything to save him. They are the heroes. You aren’t one. You always feel like you have something to live up to. But, if the others knew that, they would just freak. “We must be doomed if Dave is flipping his shit.” they would think. You can’t let that happen. You are the Knight of Time after all. You can’t let your friends know that you just want the clock to stop.

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Your name is Jade Harley and you are wearing a mask. You are the one who is always cheerful, always supportive. You never hold a grudge, and you are kind of cryptic sometimes. But you feel so useless right now. The others are off fighting monsters and making plans, but all you do is sleep and fly around on Prospit. Or all you did do. You loved it there but now you are almost glad that Prospit was destroyed. It might mean that you will be able to stay awake long enough to be actually helpful, if just out of fear of seeing what you saw when your dreamself died. But you have only just entered the medium, while John has already reached Godtier. And you are just going around looking for frogs instead of doing something to help defeat Bec Noir, the monster you helped create, and that you should be responsible for. But the others can’t know that. They need you to be the voice of optimism in a desolate world. You are the Witch of Space after all. You can’t let your friends know that you wish you could just get your head out of the clouds sometimes.

This is my first fanfic so I hope you guys like it!

[SkaianRedeemer]

The Day Before the Day
Part 3

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Your name is Lalonde and you are so ducking frunk that you don't remember your own first name.

Oh, like this is surprising. Isn't it, Mrs. or Mr. or Miss echoing voice, in your head, that you know is there, no matter what other people shay?

> Me?

Yesh you. You know you're there. You know you're up there, whashing me. You. Watsing you.

You've got something to say to you!

> What is it?

Listen.

ilu man.

Urm- "you". Right. Because you're u and I'm u and nobody else is u. Fuckin second person bullshhhit.

ulu man. u hate second person, man. Second person is fucked. Second person is Microsoft fucking Bob. Second person is fthnljlghlb.

...

...ZZZZZZzzzzzzzzz...

> Lalonde: Wake up.

Wha- whazzat? What's going on.

Oh, right.

The drinking.

> Lalonde: Jump off the high board and do the hula.

Lishten you.

You are way ahead of this. You have been there, done that, defragged your comp for reasons you can't quite recall but are somehow tied to a computer-related thing that starts tomorrow, and then come back for more.

Speaking of "more," why is your glass empty? You hold it upside down so that a shingle drop falls to the ground. It is a picture of loss and beauty, beauty in loss, desperation in booze. It's you, is what you're saying. You are empty... without more booze. And additional character traits.

> Lalonde: Admit you have a problem.

Look, what did you just say about being ahead of you? You know you have a problem!

Your problem is that you have TOO MUSH VODKA. And as you can see, you are working on it. Jeshus.

God you're glad you're fictional.

> Lalonde: Stop drinking.

NO. You will NOT. Not drinking means you will unleash THE HANGOVER. It is a mythical beast that lives in the depths of the ocean, feeding on other beasts until it has grown to a massive size. You know of it. If it were unleashed, it would surely kill all the lesser mortals, starting from the bottom and working its way up. It's tidy that way.

Plus, you've been drunk for like, four months so the hangover's gonna last a while. It'll pound on the inside of your skull, beating your brain to a well-earned pulp, while you lash out at those around you. You know it. When you go sober, it will come for you. You will rip out your BEST FRIEND's viscera in a spurt of overpowering RAGE and will paint the walls with her glimmering, miraculous blood as it slicks through your fingers.

Plus, you'll start foreshadowing like a bitch.

> Lalond--

SHHH-shshshshshhh! Liiisten. You're the only one you can trust.

The milk is in the pantry.

> The Milk is in the pantry?

EXACTly.

> The milk isn't, say, in the fridge?

Oh shit, you're not your contact at all! You're one of you! The... the...

Okay, this just isn't working for you. This back and forth thing. Could you just pretend this conversation never happened?

> Lalonde: Take another drink.

That's what they want you to do.

> I'm the suggestion prompt. Everything I say is what they want you to do.

You--

G--

J--

Oh god, this is going to be a terrible day.

This is cheating a bit but I edited the ending to add MOAR CONSPIRACIES.

[SkaianRedeemer]

Oh, I think this warrants a double post:

Just a reminder that the fanfic exchange horrorterror known as Yuletide has started, somewhere out there. Our fandom's probably too big to qualify (although there has been talk about another Christmas gift exchange coming our way soon!). But that's not my point: my point is that AO3 is the designated host for Yuletide fic, and the server is going to be in terrible shape. The traffic will revving up until December and ending around January. I know the archive was trying their best to brace for it, but downtime is almost certain.

If things start going like they did last year, with "server busy" warnings popping up left and right, I would recommend that you start backing up any edits or posts you're about to make on the archive. It's tempting and easy to edit something you've already posted in the edit box but if you hit "Save" and the site collapses, well, convenience won't seem so nice. Either that or get a Tumblr for the winter. Nowhere better for fanfic than a image blogging system.

Anyway, keep writing, have fun.

[Liza]

@Skaian Redeamer: okay I'm really loving "Day Before the Day" in general - your character voices are so solid! - but I have to show particular love to the Lalonde one! I love the blending of exile-talk, reader prompt, and in-character paranoid drunk-talk to the point that we really have no idea exactly how crazy she is, if at all. Very Hussie-esque.

@Penguinbound Oh this is so very cool. Poor Equius. And the bit with Tavros made me lol.

@CalculatedFlame: yessssssssssssssssss. Oh this is just plain good. I love stuff like this, with the repeating motiefs, and the in-depth chararacter analysis - love it. Good stuff.

[SkaianRedeemer]

@LIza: I cannot WAIT to see R___ talk to her real exile. I've been wondering lately just who those will be. I used to have some good Scratched exile jokes but I don't think they work as well with the new kid personalities confirmed. Oh well.

[calculatedFlame]

@Liza Thank you! Most of the character analysis' come from reading other people's stuff, except for Jade's thing. And the idea came from something that a friend of mine says: that we are always wearing a mask. We may like some masks more than others, but we always only show part of ourselves to anyone. *rambling* I really liked your thing too. It's.... poignant

@SkaianReedeemer that was pretty nice! I laughed quite a few times and I liked the little bits of leaning on the fourth wall (not in the literal sense! What it meant before hussie created the fourth wall!)

[penguinbound]

Something A Little Special
Trashy Farmgirl Romance Novels

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>Be th-

OPEN PESTERLOG:

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adorableTiller [AT] began trolling cuttlefishGenome [CG]

AT: feferi!! i have some questions to ask you, and so you should answer em!
AT: okay so i am going to set up this totally hypothetical question. its so hypothetical its )razy!!
AT: now, there is this very )ute troll girl and she is very flushed for this other very )ute troll girl, okay??
AT: but, so, the first troll girl, her other friend is also flushed for the se)ond troll girl!
AT: so the first troll girl doesnt even know what to do and its all very weird!!
AT: what would you advise, feferi????
CG: Okay, wow. Um, hold on a minute, lemme read through this...
CG: Alright, alright, I got this. Now, a very similar problem is in one of my favorite movies about Seadwellers.
AT: arent all movies about seadwellers your favorite??
CG: That's --Completely irrelevant! Anyway, so this first girl, we'll --Call her the Flusher.
AT: seriously??
CG: shooshshoshshooosh
CG: And then we'll --Call girl 2 the Flushee.
CG: This other troll --Can be Other Guy.
CG: So, what I would advise, if this were an a--Ctual situation, be--Cause it is hypotheti--Cal, right?
AT: um yes.
AT: so hypothetical.
CG: So, Flusher should just go for Flushee. If Other Guy is a su--Ch a good friend and all, they'll totally be okay with it.
CG: And if not, hey, possible Kismesis!
CG: Anyway, if Other Guy really liked Flushee, he totally would've made a move.
CG: So that is what I think.
CG: Why do you ask, anyway, Nepeta?
AT: i just like hearing you talk about roman)e and junk )ause its, uh, interesting.
AT: n stuff.

adorableTiller [AT] ceased trolling cuttlefishGenome [CG]

>Be the chocolate blooded troll.

Well, technically, you can't have chocolate blood. Hm, actually, that sounds like a pretty great thing. If you were to ever create a universe, everyone would totally have chocolate blood. It would be so good.

>Expand upon conversation.

That was your ever so subtle way of trying to work out your QUADRANT PROBLEMS. You're pretty much SHIT OUT OF LUCK when it comes to romance, but you think you got it good on this one! Although, you can't really tell if Feferi really picked up on your hints. Maybe you're just not projecting enough?

Gosh, ROMANCE is hard.

It's hard and no one understands.

Except for Feferi.

>Admit flushed feelings.

Well, that would be kinda stupid after that whole hypothetical conversation you just had. You need to let some time in between all of that, or something. Really, you're just nervous and you don't wanna. So yeah.

Go bother someone else.

>Be the Other Guy.

OPEN PESTERLOG:

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chronicTechnician [CT] began trolling adorableTiller [AT]

CT: D-Hello-Nepeta-How-Are-You->
AT: um good i guess sollux.
AT: what do you want?
CT: D-Well-Um-I-Was-Thinking->
CT: D-And->
CT: D-I-Think-I-Am-Going-To-Admit-My-Feelings-To-Feferi->
AT: oooooooh wow huh okay
AT: that is surprising and stuff and so why?
CT: D-Because-I-Need-To-Get-It-Off-My-Chest->
CT: D-I-Can't-Handle-The-Weight-Of-It-Anymore->
AT: but ummmmmm
AT: what if she reje)ts you, huh?
CT: D-I-Can-Handle-Another-Bout-Of-Depression->
CT: D-I-Guess->
AT: but sollux you )ant tell feferi be)ause
AT: she
AT: already has her flushed quadrant filled
AT: by
AT: ummm
AT: eridan.
AT: they totally stopped being moirails and junk and now theyre all up in the hearts.
CT: D-Oh->
CT: D-I-I-See->
CT: D-Um->
CT: D-Excuse me plz

chronicTechnician [CT] ceased trolling adorableTiller [AT]

>Why did you do that

Oh man you feel so bad now. I mean, wow. Wow. The way he dropped his quirk and everything. Gosh.

>Be sad.

:(

>So sad.

:((

>So

:((((((((((

>Sad

:((((((((((((((((((((((((((

>Stop being sad.

But look at what you did! You suppose it's natural for trolls to back stab each other and junk but you consider Sollux to be a very good friend and you just went and did that too him! ROMANCE is hard.

It's hard and you don't like it very much.

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@Liza: Thanks for the feedback! I'm glad you liked it.

[SkaianRedeemer]

@Penguinbound: Innnteresting.

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>Be sad.

:(

>So sad.

:((

>So

:((((((((((

>Sad

:((((((((((((((((((((((((((

And also pretty funny!

[Red Pen]

Chapter twenty: aka the point when you'll probably suddenly remember that you're reading a ridiculous crackfic, because I'm having far too much fun. I was originally planning to wrap this entire fanfic up in one massive chapter, but it would have been waaay too long.


This story is also on AO3!

Previously, on Unhinged...
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19

Unhinged - part 20

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Rose Lalonde went screaming through the skies of Derse on a plume of billowing black exhaust and a jet of purple fire. The writhing, organic straps of her eldritch jetpack curled around her body like tentacles, and her choking contrail formed weird and otherworldly shapes, laced with imperial octarine against the blackness of the Medium. Below her black pawns scattered, screaming, at the sonic boom that shook the streets and cracked like grimdark thunder in her wake.

The four towers of the palace were rising before her, and Rose drew the Thorns of Oglogoth with a precise flourish and took aim. A blast of black fire tore through the nearest tower, blowing a massive chunk out of its middle. The top of the tower flickered glitchily for a moment, hovering with no support as the game tied itself in knots trying to decide which precedent to follow; its physics or its protection of the indestructible kernel orb above. Rose hovered just beyond the smoking wreckage and readied her wands.

"Jack Noir! I'm calling you out!!"

From the heart of the ruined tower, a snake of red lightning lashed out out the massive, swirling cloud of dust and debris she had raised. She conjured a violet, soap-bubble shield and winced for a second as it crackled and split around her.

"Oh Noir, this isn't my dreamself you're dealing with. You'll have to do better than that." Another blast of magic from her own wands, this time only to clear the haze of dust and smoke, and she was looking down at him, glaring up at her from the wreckage of a razed hallway at the top of what was left of the tower. Jack was swaying on the spot, his ring hand raised in her direction, clutching the hilt of the Tectrix of the Arbiter and trembling slightly as tiny green sparks leapt from it. His fourth and final prototyping was fast approaching.

She wasted no time in firing at him again, hitting him square in the chest before he had a chance to react and sending him flying from the tower. Looking vaguely surprised, as if he'd forgotten he had wings, Jack plummeted thirty stories and hit the pavement of the courtyard below with a crack of splintering chitin and breaking concrete, and Rose immediately alighted atop the ruined tower, her eyes flickering around for signs of the two dreamselves she was supposed to be rescuing while her jetpack filled the devastated hallways with a knee-deep bog of black smoke.

She spotted Dave instantly, climbing out from the decorative niche he'd dodged into to avoid her explosion. "Thanks for the heads-up," he muttered sarcastically. "Rose, what the hell are you wearing."

"The Alchemiter gave it the designation 'Bat Out Of Hell', which seems apt. It's a conglomerate of John's jetpack, your brother's rocketboard, and my own Grimoire of the Zoologically Dubious. John's idea."

"Holy shit, it's like that's trying so pathetically hard to be awesome it actually reaches around through desperate and ends up right back at cool."

"Glad to see you're still with me, Strider," she answered flatly.

He poked at the hole in his chest, the gaping wound they'd discovered in Rose's prison, now cauterized cleanly by Jack's ring. "'Course I am. Not even bleeding anymore."

"Davesprite's trying to heal your other body," she assured him. "If all goes well that wound should disappear soon. Did my dreamself make it?"

"Oh, yeah." Dave looked around quickly. "Tentacles over there had you, but when you blew the place to kingdom come he dropped you like a boulder on Prometheus's butter-coated slip-and slide. Think you wound up... over here somewhere." He waded a few feet down the hallway and delved into the layer of smoke before hoisting her sleeping dreamself up into the open air, wincing as the motion pulled at the muscles in his ruined chest. Rose quickly darted over and took herself from him.

It was an odd sensation, looking down at her own sleeping body, feeling the warmth of skin that perfectly matched her own, the rise and fall of lungs in exact time with hers. "You must sleep like a rock if that didn't wake you up," Dave commented, as Rose inspected her own torn, uneven hair.

"I'm running on an ungodly amount of energy drinks at the moment, actually. I doubt anything that happens to my dreamself will be enough to put this body to sleep while my blood is saturated with this much guarana and caffeine."

"Egbert's idea again?"

"Jade's, actually, and it was brilliant." She cast a quick glance over towards the edge of the tower, where black smoke was pouring out over what was left of the ruined walls. Her ears had picked up the sound of Jack's ragged wings from below. "But we need to go now. If you think you're strong enough to carry my dreamself, I need both of you to hide somewhere in the city where Jack can't find you - it's clear our towers aren't a safe haven anymore. I'll hold him off for as long as I can."

"Lalonde, girl, if you're strong enough to hold off Jack motherfucking Noir, then no way am I letting you show me up by being too much of a pansy to lift your dead weight. Gimme your dreamself."

She handed herself over and watched with some apprehension as he maneuvered her onto his back, his teeth gritted slightly with the pain that he didn't seem to want her to notice.

"I'll take her... you? Whatever. I'll take her to the headquarters of my resistance of three."

But Rose was gazing narrow-eyed at the lip of the tower, where a black shape was rising. Silhouetted against the black Medium, framed by the other three dark towers looming in the distance behind him, Jack Noir hovered with wings spread and the gleaming white Tectrix clenched in his shaking fist. Rose tightened her grip on her wands.

"Strider, can you fly right now?"

"I don't know."

"Then I'll take care of it."

Before the Knight could protest, she'd whipped around and enveloped him in her magic. Weightless, she swung her arm and the magic with it and threw him bodily from the tower, away from the Slayer and towards the twisting city below. A split second before he hit the ground another blast from her wand struck him and stopped his fall, and Dave, looking shaken, landed lightly on his feet with her dreamself still clinging to his back.

"Run like hell," Rose screamed after him, and she turned her attention back to Jack just in time to ward off another whip of red power with her shielding spell.

"You think you'll win now?" he hissed, wings flapping wildly. "Just because you went and got your goddamn wands? I'm the KING, girl, and you're just some kid."

"I suppose that makes it twice as embarrassing that I was beating you rather badly without the wands, earlier," Rose commented coldly, provoking him, making sure his attention was on her and not the fleeing form of Dave far below and behind. "Although I suspect that cornucopia of neurotic paranoia was there all along, wasn't it, just waiting for someone to poke and prod until they unearthed it."

"Didn' unearth SHIT," Jack snapped back, almost drunkenly, and she deflected another jet of light from his ring, noting as she did so that the green sparks were now dancing up and down his arm, the last unlit orb flickering spastically as somewhere in another world Jade attacked her entry item.

Rose's feet left the ground, and slowly she began rising through the air.

"Come now, Jack. Don't lie to your therapist, I'm only here to help. You let me tear you apart and find what was already there. Underneath all your power and your prototypings and your delusions of grandeur, you're just an angry, scared little pawn who's terrified that someone will notice."

"I'm not a pawn!" he screamed, and the Bat Out Of Hell gave a roar as Rose dived out of the way to avoid the sudden sweep of his blade. Jack had thrown himself bodily at her, and as his wings caught him she darted easily around behind him, twirling her wands, wondering how far she could push her luck. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Dave disappearing through the distant main gate of the palace courtyard in a stumbling run, maneuvering awkwardly past the hesitant Dersite guards who tried to halt him.

"You're an NPC. A character in a game. Before the ring you were NOTHING."

He spun in mid air and slashed at her again, and Rose's faster, more maneuverable jetpack easily dodged it.

"And everyone knows it, Noir. Your whole kingdom knows what you are, knows that ring doesn't belong on your finger, and they hate you for it. Hate you for pretending to be more than a pawn. You can never sleep again because the second you let your guard down they'll be at your throat. And for the record," she added scathingly, "Your face looked better on my dead cat."

Jack was panting, glaring at her, eyes wide and feral. "Shut up. Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut the hell up, shut the HELL up, I ain't letting you into my head anymore."

"There's no one in your head but you," she told him. "Isn't that a terrifying thought?"

They'd been rising slowly as they spoke, and now the ruined tower was far below and Derse spread out beneath them in a twisting mandala of purple.

Below, the last dark sphere of the Kerneltowers throbbed blindingly with light and went inert again.

Jack gave a keening hiss and closed his eyes, and the ring on his finger pulsed especially brightly, sending another wave of green sparks up his arm and causing him to grit his teeth. It seemed to bring him back to himself, somewhat. He took a deep, shaky breath as if to compose himself, and when he opened his eyes again there was a hint of sanity there, a shred of the old Jack she'd first met in her prison.

"Shut up. They're just word games, aren't they. Just lies, and they don't have any power. I know what you're doing. Telling me I'm afraid of things until I believe it."

"Oh, well done Jack!" Rose said with a cold smile. "And it only took you weeks to catch on. Truly, your brainpower is a marvel."

"Guess this is the part where you tell me we've made excellent progress today." His tone was acid.

"No Jack," she answered calmly. "This is the part where I break you."

And she dived towards the city below, jets of the Slayer's red fire arcing madly through the billows of grimdark smog behind her.

- - - - - - - - - -

Something glowing and golden beaded on Davesprite's face as he poured his sprite healing capabilities into the rapidly depleting Health Vial of Dave Strider, and he wasn't sure if it was sweat or blood and didn't have time to care. He forced the bar to fill, warped the mechanics of the world around him in ways they weren't meant to bend, while his island of rubble grew ever smaller as LoHaC's lava swallowed it up. The physics of the game protested: he has no lungs, he has no heart, there's a hole through him so wide you could stick your arm in it, and he fought them until it hurt.

His shades were brilliant with color.

GG: you can do it dave! try as hard as you can!
GG: you already saved all our lives once! if anyone can do it its you!! :D
TT: I've engaged Noir in combat. Our dreamselves are fleeing as we speak, and hopefully by the time this battle ends they'll be well hidden.
GG: OH FUVK BLINDFOLED!1
EB: heads up everybody, jade just alchemized her entry thing so she won't be able to talk for a while.
TT: It's all you now, Strider. If you can manage to heal him we might just make it through this without a single casualty.
TT: I know you won't disappoint, Dave.
EB: dave you're the hero of the day, man!
EB: we are not even entertaining the notion that you won't succeed.
EB: the notion that you won't succeed is so bored over here, all unentertained and stuff.
TG: oh my god egbert this is hard enough without you attempting shitty metaphors at me

But all the same, he felt suddenly as though he could wrap this game around himself and bend it to his will, make it do anything and everything and a wound like this was nothing. Because for once every single one of them had forgotten the "sprite" qualifier at the end of his name, and had just called him Dave.

Beneath the orange glow of his gaze, filling with gold now as the game made him pay painfully for twisting its rules, the ragged edges of Alpha Dave's skin began knitting themselves together.

- - - - - - - - - -

A battle raged through the skies of the dark kingdom. Flashes of purple and red erupted like heat lightning from the thunderheads of black exhaust gathering in the stratosphere, two tiny figures weaving in and out of the melee as they chased each other in wide mobius loops. In the streets below, pawns, imps and miscellaneous monsters stood gaping up at the sinister display.

The Traitorous Bishop and the Warpainted Pariah stood slack-jawed with the rest of them.

"She's alive," the white pawn whispered in reverence. "She's alive and she's fighting Noir. She's going to win, she has to."

"His final prototyping is on the way," Bishop warned. "Squawk. I can see the orb flickering atop the last Kernaltower of the palace. Whatever advantage she has, she'll lose it soon."

"She's going to win," Pariah repeated fervently. "We have to follow them, we have to help her take him down before he's prototyped. You said there would be a more opportune time; well this is damn well as opportune as it's gonna get!!"

Bishop nodded his massive, beaked head. "Climb on my back, squawk. They're fast, we'll never catch them unless we fly."

Pariah did so eagerly. Clinging to the folds of his clothes with one hand, clutching her sword in the other, she buried her face in the huge chessman's shoulders as his cloak spread and the great crow's wings granted him as one of Derse's genetically altered supersoldiers unfurled.

In a gust of sudden wind they took to the air, and as if snapped out of a trance the people of Derse - downtrodden pawns who had heard and remembered Pariah's call to arms, who now saw the usurper to their throne fighting in the sky, and furthermore saw that he was losing - gave a ragged cheer and chased after. A resistance of two leading a steadily growing mob of two hundred.

- - - - - - - - - -

Two floors down from the level at which the fourth tower of the palace had been obliterated, the Draconain Dignitary at last dislodged himself from the strata of stone and mortar that had been shaken from the ceiling above, and as he reached out a hand to help the Courtyard Droll do the same he gazed upward through the wide hole it had left in the ceiling, at the brief bursts illuminating the sky.

"They're headed out across the city."

"Dra- Draconain," Droll stammered excitedly as he freed himself. "Did you SEE THAT EXPLOSION?? Did you SEE IT?? That was AMAZING!!"

"Yes Droll, it was very impressive."

"LET'S GO WATCH HER BLOW UP MORE STUFF!!"

Draconian took a slow, exasperated breath and stalked over to the nearest window. Its grating had been knocked out by the explosion, and as he leaned out he could see the distant swarm of pawns flooding the streets below, looking like insects from this distance as the coalesced into a seething mob, following the lights above.

"Oh no."

"What?" Droll asked, joining him at the window and still bouncing up and down with adrenaline. He caught sight of the massing pawns and echoed, loudly, "Oh nooooo."

"He's losing," Draconian said emotionlessly, calculating. "He's a nervous wreck and he hasn't slept or eaten in who knows how long. He's in no shape to fight right now, and they can see that. The second he's down they'll tear him apart." His eyes found the kernel orb flickering atop the far tower, and he added, "Or he'll tear Derse apart first."

"Well then let's go stop Jack and his kingdom from killing each other!" Droll stated as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

"Of course Droll. Why not. I'm sure if we just calmly explain the situation everything will turn out fine." When the Droll continued to beam up at him and Draconian recalled that the little Dersite had no concept of sarcasm, he added, "I still have those tickets for the Derse-to-Earth shuttles, you know. It's not too late to cut our losses and run."

To his mild surprise, Droll kicked him.

"You're a crappy best friend sometimes, you know that, Draconian?" Droll was glaring at him, the look of righteous resentment almost comical on his friendly face.

"What?"

"You're a crappy best friend!" Droll repeated. "You're supposed to be Jack's best friend and sometimes you're really really bad at it!"

"I look out for my own interests-" he began, and Droll cut him off.

"And I'm sick of it! I'm sick of always hearing you talk like that, even though I know most of the time you don't mean it! When Jack was losing his mind all you talked about was your stupid office and when he kicked you out of the palace the first thing you did was decide to leave Derse even though you knew he needed our help and now you're talking about your... your dumb stupid tickets while he's fighting Rose! And I put up with it because I know you don't mean that stuff you say! You never go through with it, you always come back and you always help and deep down you always care about the right stuff, so I'm sick of hearing you talk like you don't!!"

Draconian opened his mouth to counter with something cold and logical and laced with annoyance, but the words died on his lips as Droll turned angrily and stalked off down the hallway without waiting to hear them.

"We're gonna go fix everything, and if you talk about abandoning the crew like that one more time I'm going to hit you in the face until you shut your stupid face. Now c'mon!"

The Dignitary, baffled, found himself following without protest.

- - - - - - - - - -

In the shady sidestreet that was home to the liquor store that rented out the resistance's small headquarters, Dave finished hauling Rose's slumbering dreamself up the last few steps of the fire escape and pried the window open. Their tiny room was empty; the rest of his resistance was elsewhere.

He dragged her inside, to the place along one wall where two cots had been propped up next to the water damage and peeling paint, and dumped her unceremoniously into Bishop's. Exhaustedly he collapsed onto Pariah's and lay there for a while, staring up through his sunglasses at the slew of propaganda posters from both kingdoms she'd tacked up lovingly over her bed. Fight for the Glory of Derse! Victory to Prospit! Join the Black Army and be assured, you're on the winning side! Join the Golden Legion and take pride that your defeat will pave the way for the glorious ascension of the Four!

Beyond the window the world was ablaze with battle and light, but Dave found himself suddenly unable to worry or care who was winning. He was completely drained, his chest on fire from a wound he wouldn't have survived if not for the game mechanics keeping him alive.

"Give him hell, Rose," he muttered, and he closed his eyes and decided to find out once and for all whether or not he had a body to return to.

- - - - - - - - - -

TG: hey guys too late hes dead
TG: man shut up
TG: yep dead as a pancaked circus clown beneath an elephants ass
TG: my condolences to the family
EB: dave!!!
EB: oh wow, you're amazing!
TG: no really egbert tell me something i dont know
EB: not you, orange dave.
TG: yeah cool
TG: im gonna go pass out now
TG: wake me up when we win at everything forever

turntechGodhead [TG] is offline!

TG: yeah well who needs your fangirlism anyway
TG: i have other adoring worshipers
EB: hehe, sorry man, i think he needed that.

[Liza]

I really liked your thing too. It's.... poignant

Thanks! Sort of what I was going for - a sad beginning to work my way up from.

@Penguinbound Oooh, I like where this is going! Very interesting blood/trait swap you have going here! Some nice emotional stuff with some laugh-out-loud moments

@RedPen EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! New Unhinged! Sorry, I've been following that on A2O3 and I was dying to find out what happened after Rose went grimdark - this is fantastic. I also love Droll's moment of "man the hell up!" to Dignitary - just beautiful. I also love the little snips of Carapacean culture you've spread here and there throughout the fic - like here with the recruitment posters.

Still debating if "Long Long Time" is worth continuing.....

[calculatedFlame]

@RedPen Oh man, I found this a bit ago on A2O3 and loved it. I'm going to reread it before I read the next part so I remember what happened. Your descriptions and grasp of the characters is really good!