MSPA Fanfiction VII: End of Thread 6 Flash

[FowlJ]

Right, so, however long ago, I posted this little scrap of story I had plans to do something with, then promptly failed to do anything with it. But, as it would seem, I don't actually abandon my projects, just let them stagnate for months on end before going back to them and realizing I was awful at writing months ago. Now, generally I wouldn't rewrite something purely because it was awful, which is why I didn't - there are actually some changes made to the way things will be going if I ever get around to doing more of this, which as usual I hope to get a chance to.

Not that any of that matters, given that nobody actually saw anything other than the little scrap from months ago, so I'll cease rambling and get to the point.

Here is another (slightly larger than previously!) little scrap covering the same part of the story in a different way, preparing for a different rest-of-the-story at some point in the future, set in a not quite fully fleshed out AU sort of setting that I found myself interested in.

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You know where you are before you even open your eyes. You hear them, voices speaking without sound, echoing inside your head. Like you always do, you try in vain to shut them out, to fight them, even for a moment, and like always, you fail. Your body ceases to be your own, and you rise up and open your eyes.

The room is lit by the same half melted candle that it always is, a pathetic little flame completely failing to illuminate the purples and blacks of your chamber. Or, what you assume is yours, at least - why would you always be there if it weren’t? You move across the room, eyes darting about to see with clarity that wasn’t quite right. You pass by a number of familiar objects scattered haphazardly about - a few scraps of clothing, an elaborately made violin of some blackish wood, a number of unmarked books in varying conditions, some brand new, others beaten to within an inch of their lives, worn away at the edges and marked with tiny tears and scratches. You should like to have a look at them, but that is not where your body is taking you.

Instead, you continue to the door, brushing your hand against the lock and hearing it click as the door swings open. You step out onto the landing of the staircase spiralling downwards and connecting all the different rooms of the tower, and begin to descend. You hear things from some of the other rooms as you go; sobbing from this one, smashing and crashing from another, mad giggling from a third, but they do not concern you. You continue down.

You reach the ground floor uncontested, and step outside. You look up at the starless black sky, and the voices scream with new clarity, filling your entire body with their presence. You feel far away, like you are watching from outside yourself as you move, limbs bending in ways they shouldn’t be able to, carrying you with inhuman speed across the dark city that appears before your new eyes in perfect detail. You glide through alleyways, up and across rooftops, seeing not a soul as you fly for miles on end towards your destination. The second tower comes into view, reaching high up into the void. It is much like your own prison, but not quite the same. You don’t bother with the stairs this time, preferring to dig into the wall and pull yourself up. You reach the very top and slither inside an open window.

He is awake already - expecting you. You freeze as you see yourself reflected in his dark lenses, dark and twisted and wrong, and he moves forward before you can find the strength (your own or otherwise) to move. You drunkenly lurch backwards, expecting a cold blade through your middle, when instead he grabs you by the shoulders and shakes you, the dark tower blurring and fading away alongside the voices that carried you there.

For the fourth time in as many days, you awake screaming in a language you don’t understand, your brother leaning over you, oversized sunglasses failing to hide the tiredness in his face, the same that you are sure is mirrored on your own. You think he asks if you’re alright, and you think you nod in response, but you can’t be entirely certain.

Your name is Rose Lalonde, and you believe you may be losing your mind.

[moonyLunacy]

Chapter 11 is finished.

I don't like how I ended it though, it seems a bit corny and forced. :/ I'll go back and edit it later when I can think of something better. This is a rough draft anyway.

http://figment.com/books/464737-Rebe...d-In-progress-


I started on another project that was inspired by a comic in which Karkat has a password journal. I'm doing this mostly for character study reasons, and I think it would be fun to explore Karkat's thoughts in depth. So, I have him a diary/journal thing. It will contain a mix of short entries and rants. :U

Rebellionbound is like my baby, but I feel less protective of this one, so I'll post it here as well as on Figment (Figment is safer for writing because you can't copy and paste stuff from other stories there.)

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JOURNEY THROUGH ENDLESS DARKNESS AND DESPAIR- DAY 2-

KANAYA FOUND A BLANK BOOK IN THE LIBRARY, AND PROPOSED THAT I USE IT AS A DIARY. LALONDE THEN TOLD ME THAT I MIGHT FIND IT THERAPEUTIC BECAUSE I HAVE RECENTLY BEEN THROUGH SOME ROUGH SHIT.

I HAVE NOTHING TO SAY FOR NOW, EXCEPT FUCK THIS DIARY, FUCK MY LIFE, AND FUCK ME FOR ACTUALLY GOING ALONG WITH THIS.

-KARKAT

[drbwaa]

Heheh, I like the idea of a Karkat diary. It's a whole new experience for him--a memo that past/future him can't respond to.

[moonyLunacy]

Heheh, I like the idea of a Karkat diary. It's a whole new experience for him--a memo that past/future him can't respond to.

I know. That's why I thought it would be fun.

I have a few more "chapters" written, but they're very short. I'll post them when I'm done with the one I'm working on. This is gonna take some serious effort in recreating his voice. I think I'm good at it but I could be better. With just Karkat by himself and as close to canon as possible, it's going to take some more work.

[sebastian]

New chapter for "Herding Cats".

[PingZing]

Thought I'd stop by and alert you fine ladies and gentlemen to a new chapter of Hot Blooded. In case anybody remembers it and has been waiting on the edge of their seat for the past something-like-over-a-year.

Hot Blooded: Chapter 19

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Surprise! It's a link. At this point, it's just much easier than doing two sets of formatting individually.
http://archiveofourown.org/works/167...apters/1438727

[drbwaa]

new chapter of Hot Blooded

O_O woah...

[moonyLunacy]

Thought I'd stop by and alert you fine ladies and gentlemen to a new chapter of Hot Blooded. In case anybody remembers it and has been waiting on the edge of their seat for the past something-like-over-a-year.

Hot Blooded: Chapter 19

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Surprise! It's a link. At this point, it's just much easier than doing two sets of formatting individually.
http://archiveofourown.org/works/167...apters/1438727

*takes a look* I am putting this on my reading list, but not until I'm done with my own fanfiction. I read a little bit of chapter one, and it sounds good.

[PingZing]

O_O woah...

Is that a good O_O? I hope that's a good O_O.

*takes a look* I am putting this on my reading list, but not until I'm done with my own fanfiction. I read a little bit of chapter one, and it sounds good.

Awesome! Thanks.

[drbwaa]

Is that a good O_O? I hope that's a good O_O.

It's a good O_O. Never thought I'd see another chapter of HB, but I'm certainly glad it's finally arrived! (Haven't read it yet; rereading a couple previous chapters first)

[The Poet]

I've been writing a thing, I'm a few chapters in, and I'd like to see what everyone thinks of the first chapter. I don't have a name for it yet, but if anyone has any ideas I'd love suggestions.

Chapter 1

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“What are you DOING?”
The voice stops you in your tracks. It’s not every day that a troll dares question your authority, so it deserves some attention. You glance at the lowblood, cornered and quivering, then turn your attention to the interloper.
It’s a young troll, probably barely even old enough for the Drones to have come the first time. She’s glaring up at you, absolutely no fear in her odd, pale eyes, and a glance at her sigil shows the same hue as your own. An up-and-comer, perhaps, to usurp your position. It’s happened before, though not recently. They learned after the first few deaths.
“Well, what do you think you’re doin’, most holy of miracle sisters? Interruptin’ my business and all?” you growl towards her, hunching over, all of your imperious height towering over even the tips of her horns.
“I think I’m intervening in a fit of minor folly,” She snaps back calmly. “What did he do to you?”
“Got in my motherfucking way.” You’ve seen trolls like this before, highbloods corrupted by the nonsensical mutterings of lowbloods, silly sayings of equality. Motherfucking blasphemous.
“Well, he’s hardly likely to do that again, now, is he?” she asks, still unflustered despite the situation.
You roll your eyes, not bothering to respond, and turn back to the lowblood. There’s a spark of hope in his eyes, one that quickly dies out once he sees that his protector has failed in her apparent task.
“You know,” she calls out as you stalk towards your prey. “The more you kill, the harder it will be to control them.”
You pause. You haven’t heard this argument before.
“The more you kill, the more they hate you. Nothing caliginous, obviously, but for every lowblood you kill, two more will vow revenge. Eventually, even Her Imperiousness won’t be able to keep them down.” You can practically hear her smirk, and what’s this, being able to sense the actions of a troll you met less than a minute ago? “The more you let live, the first offence, the more will stay out of your way, the less will vow revenge, the empire keeps turning, on and on.”
You turn towards her again, and this time the lowblood scurries away, ducking into the shadows and beyond where you care to chase him. You let him go. “And what’s to stop us from culling all the blasphemers of the mirthful motherfucking messiahs?”
She smirks again, and you can practically feel the trap of words she’s set for you closing in. “Workforce. Who else will do the menial, but necessary, tasks.”
She is an anomaly. Trolls, especially highbloods, have a tendency to use weapons before words, to try to use brute force and smash through a problem before considering another way around. This troll – this diminutive, young troll with eyes older than they have any right to be – has reasoned you away from your goal. By all rights, you should be furious. She has publicly defied you, a crime which by itself can warrant death, depending on your mood. But you’re not even angry.
You relax after a moment, when you realize what this emotion you’re feeling is, and you grin, a wide, toothy one to complement her small smirk. “Well then, what’s your name, most precious sister of miracles?”
“It’s not quite conventional by this society’s standards, but… I suppose you can call me Rose.”

[moonyLunacy]

Doop de doop. More Karkat. Tell me if it needs to sound more Karkaty, like some different word suggestions.

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JOURNEY THROUGH ENDLESS DARKNESS AND DESPAIR- DAY 5

AS I WHITTLE AWAY THE HOURS ON THIS COLD, FOREBODING ROCK, I ADMIT A LOT OF THINGS HAVE BEGUN TO GNAW AT ME. MAYBE I WILL WRITE THEM DOWN, BUT NOT TODAY.

I FEEL TERRIBLE, EMOTIONALLY AND PHYSICALLY. I CAN'T SLEEP. I HAVEN'T BEEN ABLE TO SLEEP FOR A LONG TIME. I'M A CORNUCOPIA OF DYSFUNCTION AND IT'S LITERALLY MAKING ME SICK.

I DON'T EVEN WANT TO TALK ABOUT WHY I FEEL THIS WAY, EVEN TO MYSELF. ESPECIALLY MYSELF, IN FACT.

AT LEAST I'M LEFT IN SOLITUDE. GAMZEE IS AROUND, SOMETIMES. I GUESS THAT'S GOOD, BUT HE DOESN'T DO MUCH.

-KARKAT VANTAS

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JOURNEY THROUGH ENDLESS DARKNESS AND DESPAIR-DAY 6

FUCK IT ALL. I CAN'T WRITE IN MY CURRENT STATE

FOR THE RECORD, I FINALLY PASSED OUT, GOT SOME SHUTEYE, AND I AM OFFICIALLY ILL.


-KARKAT VANTAS

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JOURNEY THROUGH ENDLESS DARKNESS AND DESPAIR- DAY 10-

I SUPPOSE I RAN MYSELF RAGGED. I SPENT A DAY FEELING SO SHITTY I THOUGHT I WAS DYING, AND ANOTHER THREE DAYS SLEEPING IT OFF. YES, SLEEPING. DREAM BUBBLES ARE OKAY, I JUST WISH I COULD FIND MY DEAD FRIENDS. I MET A DEAD ALTERNATE SOLLUX, BUT HE JUST WASN'T THE SAME GUY I KNEW.

I FIND DOOMED SELVES UNNERVING, BUT I'M GETTING OFF TRACK HERE. POINT IS, I'M BETTER NOW. LALONDE THINKS IT WAS ALL STRESS INDUCED. FINE. WHO GIVES A FUCK TO WHATEVER CAUSED MY AGONY. CHANCES ARE, IT WAS JUST MY OWN TORTURED PSYCHE, ATTEMPTING SUICIDE FROM THE INSIDE OUT. NOT THAT I ACTUALLY *WANT* TO DIE. I HAVE SHIT TO DO BEFORE I MEET MY DEMISE.

MY GOD, HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN SINCE I LEFT MY NEW RESPITE BLOCK? I'VE BEEN SEQUESTERED HERE ALMOST SINCE WE TRULY BEGAN THIS VOYAGE.

ADDITIONALLY I'M A MESS RIGHT NOW AND I KNOW IT. I OVERHEAR SHIT PEOPLE SAY ABOUT ME, AND ALL I HAVE TO SAY IS AT LEAST THEY KNOW I'M GRIEVING AND THEY LEAVE ME ALONE.

SPEAKING OF WHICH, I'M DONE FOR TODAY. WRITING MY EXPERIENCES DOWN MEANS RELIVING THEM AND I'M NOT READY FOR THAT.

-KARKAT VANTAS

It is now posted on Figment as well.

http://figment.com/books/528161

[moonyLunacy]

I made a oneshot (that is technically made of four drabbles) about the kids basically wondering how they got here, early in life. I always wondered if any of them wondered where their other parent was, or in Dave's case, both of them... well, kind of. The ages are scattered around, though.

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Today is the first day of school. This year anyway. First grade. Real school. That has to count for something, right? The first day in a place that is nothing like daycare.

You hold your dad's strong hand as you cross the parking lot. All around are people dropping their kids off. There are hugs and "I love you" from dads and moms and sometimes both. Sometimes people had two moms or two dads.

Something strikes you as strange. You wonder where your mom is. The only pictures of a woman in your house are of your grandmother. A mother never tucked you in, never kissed you, never told her she loved you. Dad was great, you couldn't ask for a better dad, and yet it feels like something is missing.

You look up at your father and ask why you don't have a mom.

The question catches him off-guard.

----

For all your life you never knew who your father was. That's okay, you always knew of single moms who don't know or care about that anymore. It's someone they would rather forget, right?

Even as a little girl you thought it may have been inappropriate to inquire further into the matter. You deduce it was a stranger and a fit of passion that created you twelve years ago. And that was okay.

However, you always thought it would be nice to have another parent around. No one who would play games of one-upmanship with you. No one who would ignore you. No one who would pass out drunk after a long day in the lab.

Yes, another parent. A sober parent. That would be pleasant.

----

You don't think your life is weird. You don't think your bother is creepy. Your bro is awesome, fuck what anybody else says. When you grow up, you want to be just like him, a brilliant master of irony and-

Wait, your brother? That's right. Your bother is all you have. Shit, you never even met your grandma!

You asked him a little while ago. He tells you a story about how you fell from the sky and killed a pink pony. You believe anything he says. Bro would never lie.

Everyone at school thinks you're weird even though you try your damnedest to be cool. No, you don't fucking need to try, right? You are cool. Just like your bro.

You tell the story to people sometimes.

So you're like Superman?

Yes.

Laughter. An eavesdropper throws a wad of paper at you.

----

Bec. Grandpa. This island. It is all you know. This and your dreams! You know what's going to happen, you tell him stuff and he just pats you on the head and tells you that you are so very talented for a young lass.

You know nothing about the outside world, you have never been there before! Not that it matters. You like it here. Anyway, you learn from all the things Grandpa teaches you, and from the artifacts he brings home. Everything is lovely, the sky, the sand, the surf, the temple. You want to go to the temple.

You're happy here. This is all you need.

Anyway, you know where you came from. You saw it in the clouds. You never questioned it.

And as posted on Figment- http://figment.com/books/541761-A-Co...stuck-Oneshots

I'll be writing more oneshots soon. I have some ideas. P:

[Raziere]

1. I have actually found a fan fiction on Archive of Our Own that is called "Guiding Cats" which is basically the same thing as "Herding Cats" but with Pre-Scratch Trolls. Actually found it first before Herding, and it only has one chapter up, and it even references Herding Cats. just letting you all know.

2. I suddenly have a few ideas for fan fictions:

Karkat Vs. Caliborn Shout Off:
These two caps-speaking loudmouths have finally met. And they hate each other. Who will win this battle of no indoor voices?

Karkat Tells Off Kankri:
Karkat finally decides to lay the verbal smack down upon Kankri and tell him exactly what kind of jerk he is.

Twinstuck:
Basically, imagine that all Post-Scratch and Pre-Scratch heroes were instead born in the same session as twin siblings. That all eight humans are in one session and that all Twenty-Four trolls are in another. Karkat and Kankri grow up as brothers. The two Striders are of equal age, and Aranea and Vriska grew up together as siblings as well. What shenanigans result from this, I wonder? especially when they start going into SBURB...

[moonyLunacy]

Karkat Vs. Caliborn Shout Off:
These two caps-speaking loudmouths have finally met. And they hate each other. Who will win this battle of no indoor voices?

As in hate? Caliborn Karkat is my favorite crackship, I really believe that they would truly hate each other if they met. I like this idea. :3 This fic would still be cool if they hated each other platonically, too.

I updated my fanfiction.

http://figment.com/books/464737-Rebe...d-In-progress-

I will go back and edit this if anyone finds anything wrong with it. I have trouble writing about characters I hatelike, such as Erdian and Vriska. (But I can write a good Gamzee only because I find his scary side fascinating and I'm writing a Terezi Gamzee fic about their abusive relationship.) I just don't pay close attention to those two trolls I guess.

[Dontrush]

Sup guys. I've got some other stuff in the works, but here is a Karkat quickie:

Crab Canon

Karkat has another conversation with his ten minute future self. There's a really interesting twist you might see coming if you know about the title.

Spoiler-ish Author's Notes:

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Yes, the color change was lazily shoehorned in, but it made it easier to read, didn't it? Be grateful.

Shortest thing I've written, Woohoo!

For obvious reasons (going line by line, it's the same* forwards and backwards, in case you didn't realize it), this was one of the most difficult things I have ever written, despite it being so short. It's not perfect by my (or by most) standards (to fit the format a few things don't flow well), but getting to perfect from where it is would likely prove more difficult than it was to get it from nonexistent to where it is. Regardless, I still managed to do it in about a day, though I had the idea much earlier. And yes, I totally knowingly ripped off the "Crab Canon"** in Hofstadter’s Gödel, Escher, Bach (hence, the title, name drop, and credit in the end notes). But hey, if I'm gonna rip something off, it might as well be a Pulitzer prize winner. Even if you don't read this fic you should not rob yourself of the chance to read this very excellent book. It is the pinnacle of mind-blowing, even if you are already familiar with the subject matter. I seriously yelled "you clever bitch" at this book at least three separate times while reading it. Pick it up at a library if those are still a thing.

For future reference, Troll Hofstadter's Law is "Kankri's rants always take longer than expected, even when you take into account Troll Hofstadter's Law."

*My few differences, aside from the Terezi and Meenah speeches being slightly different, were in punctuation. As for the (relatively minor) differences in those speeches, I defer to similar differences in the source material (GEB). I adhered to the concept as well as he did, though his demonstration of the concept was far more clever. Seriously though, read that book.

**If you google it, be aware that the transcribed version you will find has a few lines missing from the crab's monologue, which make it a bit confusing to read. Also the formatting is slightly wrong. Just buy the damn book.

As for things to expect from me in the future, I've got a Roxy/Jade (yes, Jade with a "D") fic in the works (hope you like collegestuck! *self-deprecating whimper*). In other news, anybody remember that Karkat/Meenah humanstuck camp counselor AU fic I teased forever ago? Yeah. That's on the way. *knocks on wood, crosses fingers, sacrifices first-born to Clispaeth*

[thesunlitmaid]

AT LAST! I have updated The Long Sad Tale of FedoraFreak. There was something of a delay because I've been planning a wedding and stuff lately! But now I'm back on track~ Enjoy!

[moonyLunacy]

Another oneshot finished!

This one is about The Summoner and Mindfang. I was wondering why The Summoner would've killed her and here's my answer.

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The Marquise caught your attention like a fly in a web. As soon as she set that blue eye on you, you were under her spell. Immediately, passion griped you like a vice. Inescapable. Unexplainable.

You were young and had big plans. Never before had a person of your standing been given such power. Your people would rise up, one by one, at your hand. Thousands quit their ordained duties in an attempt to turn Alternia upside-down.

She liked that. In fact, she helped you, but begrudgingly. Finding discomfort in such rebellious acts was expected of someone of her caste. For all you know, she had neutral feelings about the hemospectrum. That was okay.

What was not okay was the way she began to treat you. Although you were matesprits, she could get nasty. Sometimes, she would literally get inside your head. You could feel her prodding away at your thoughts, just to see if she could make you do something against your will. Then she would laugh. It was little things, like making you drop objects or trip or say something strange.

Both of you went on and on, convinced you were in love with each other for sweeps. She did adore books and writing, she was intelligent and attractive, you once loved that about her and you were... what?

What were you to her? Maybe she found your will and leadership skills attractive. You don't know. But this was all fate, right? Romance doesn't make sense, at least not always. Perhaps she's simply doing all of this for the hell of it and she doesn't love you.

There would come a day when it will end.

To the untrained eye, it resembled a battle of kismesises. You face your lover with your lance in hand, her sword gleams in hers.

Blood was on both of your weapons, but the blue on your lance didn't come from your matesprit. You just killed another member of her caste. You did it before in battle, but the victim was a helpless prisoner.

Mindfang had enough of this, she wanted to return to the sea and simply live her life. That is what she said anyway. It wasn't the truth. You want her to stay, her spell worked too well. Yet, your matespritship had been slowly falling apart. She knew it was the end of the road for her, just the way she wanted it. This was fate, the kind of fate she believed it. The kind of fate she saw in the white oracle.

You come to blows again. It was a mutual duel.

Mindfang left herself vulnerable, arms spread wide.

"Go ahead! Kill me!"

She screams further provocations, you hesitate.

You stare at her, this mad, frightening woman. Her hair is a mess, her eyes are wild. It's like looking at an image in a broken mirror. The spell shatters. You don't love her, she's only hurt you and she's holding you back.

The lance punches a hole in her chest. She grins at you. The life leaves her face as she goes limp. You remove the lance.

You are The Summoner and you have important work to do. Tears dampen your cheeks, but you do not feel pity for your matesprit. You think of what you use to have with her and regret it. You're just glad she's gone.

I think I have some problems with tense. :/ I'm getting better at writing in second person, I think.

It's also on Figment: http://figment.com/books/541761-A-Co...stuck-Oneshots