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redorich · 3 years

Note

Hello! Can we get a little something for the hermit canyon AU? I was thinking something Karl centered, maybe they accidentally find his library or otherwise find out about his "travels". They're probably invisible for the whole thing, but do they do anything afterwards? Do they leave little notes and reminders? Would they try to help at all? Or would they push it to the back of their minds and try to forget about it?

Unlike most discoveries made by Hermits, Joe does not find a secret location on a normal surface run. When Etho found the Pogtopia ravine, it was a mystery to him, unsettling and vivid. When Grian found Technoblade's snowy cabin, it was on complete accident, just because Grian needed to explore, to get out of the canyon for a few hours.

When Joe exits the canyon, as he rarely does, he makes a beeline for Karl's library. Time is... not something Joe concerns himself with, but he prefers to constrict himself to the linear travel of the fourth dimension nowadays-- if such a thing as "nowadays" can be said to exist when tangling with time.

Where was he? Ah, yes. He moves quickly, because he dislikes spending more time away from Xisuma's side than absolutely necessary, even if the admin has been having a run of good health days and there are twenty-two other Hermits to attend to the admin in an emergency. He doesn't bother with invisibility, or walking, or other mundane things. Joe simply hovers in the air, flying toward his destination and perhaps fiddling with the tick speed just a little, just enough to get him there faster.

There's a residual feeling of familiarity, like a relationship with an ex-girlfriend which has long since turned sour, near the canyon. There's a whisper there of magic, of gleaming white spires, but all Joe can see is red.

"It's a shame, what they did to this library," Joe mutters with a tsk. Posters of hazy LSD-esque drawings of various time periods and locations line the walls, molding away as red vines climb on them, devour them.

He shrugs. Might as well move on; nothing of value remains here.

To the south is a place Etho has visited only briefly and in passing: Kinoko Kingdom. It's a hotspot of activity at times, and a ghost town at others. Etho didn't even know the name of the place until Puffy reported it. Joe doesn't care. For all that Etho likes to present himself as a cryptid, scaring poor innocent wood-dwelling folk who are just looking for a big fuzzy triclopean spouse, Joe is the one with experience as a cryptid. Let them see him. What are they going to say, "I saw Herobrine"?

He touches down, finally, in front of another library made from mushrooms and wood. Allowing his eyes to flash white for a moment so that he can ferret out the building's secret room, he is both disappointed and unsurprised to see it empty of life. Karl Jacobs, resident time traveller, is not there.

Joe closes his eyes. He doesn't want to have to do this. For decades, there was a place he called home, a place he built from the ground up. It was a place in between life and death, and so he called it the Inbetween.

He opens his eyes, and he is there. It's like walking down a street you've been down a hundred thousand times before; even with your eyes closed, you know where you're going. There are no longer dozens of imperfect copies of himself running around, brainless and waiting to be culled like lambs to the slaughter in order to fuel an affront against nature. Now, there are many iterations of Karl, all wandering aimlessly... save one.

The only version of Karl wearing color stands in an open-air corridor near the courtyard. Even from a distance, Joe can see his chest rise and fall far too rapidly for him to actually be getting any air. (Joe sees everything here, where his eyes are white and cannot be anything but white.)

"Why am I here?" Karl babbles to himself. "I haven't time-travelled-- or did I already forget?"

"You didn't forget," Joe reassures him. It does not have the intended effect.

Karl screams, turning around so quickly that he falls on his ass. He scoots away like a crab missing a leg, scrambling for some distance. "Your eyes--!"

"Come closer," Joe says. "I won't hurt you."

"You're Herobrine!"

Joe exhales slowly. "I was Herobrine. What I am is the only person who can help you."

Karl warily clambers to his feet. None of the other Karls dressed in white pay the two men any mind. "What do you mean?"

"You've got yourself stuck in a dimensional loop of Homestuck proportions, Karl," Joe says. "So did I, when I built this place. It took me decades to figure out how to get out of it, and I knew what I was doing. You don't have that."

"Am I stuck here forever, then?" Karl says mournfully. He waves a hand at the carefree automatons wearing his face. "Will I become one of them?"

Joe takes a few slow steps closer, keeping his hands where the stressed-out time traveller can see them. "I'll take care of things on this end. You won't ever have to come back here again."

Karl sags in relief like a marionette with its strings cut.

"Does the name Eret mean anything to you?" Joe asks. It's a name he's heard from Puffy's lips once or twice, and if her information holds true, things could get much easier.

Karl blinks. "Uh... Yeah? What about them?"

Joe continues. "Dark hair, tall, white eyes like mine?"

"I've never seen Eret without their sunglasses, but I guess, yeah," Karl replies. Of all the things he would have expected Herobrine to ask about, Eret isn't one of them.

"Imagine what Eret looks like," Joe suggests. "Think real hard about them. Imagine them here, in the Inbetween, right in front of us."

Karl has no idea why Herobrine wants him to daydream about Eret (even if their voice is very nice), but if the man is pulling his leg, well-- it's fucking Herobrine, he can do what he wants.

Speaking of that nice voice, Karl hears the voice in question scream out of nowhere. Karl flinches away from the sudden loud noise, before his eyes catch up to his brain and he realizes that he just magicked Eret into existence in the Inbetween.

"What the fuck," Eret says. "H-Herobrine, uh, long time no s-see..?"

"Sorry about that time I kinda tortured you," Herobrine says brightly. "I'm nicer now."

"I doubt--" Eret begins caustically, then remembers exactly who they're talking to and shuts their mouth. "...Why is everything so dark?"

"Take off your sunglasses," Herobrine suggests.

Eret grimaces, but obeys. This place is practically humming with magic, so they just know they're going to get blinded by it the moment they remove their glasses, but they remember what happened last time they pissed Herobrine off.

Wincing, they remove the sunglasses, expecting pain and receiving... nothing. The glint of light on quartz is a bit uncomfortable, but that's a normal human uncomfortable that Eret hasn't experienced since they were a teenager.

Herobrine smacks them on the forehead with his palm. "I take back what I said about 'living with this power for the rest of your life', and all that," he says. "You can turn 'em off now. I'd recommend not turning those eyes back on, though-- at least, not here. It's a little bright, magic-wise."

Eret gapes. All these years, they feared the day they'd meet this powerful man again, imagined what they'd say as they cursed his name or begged his forgiveness... and here he is, giving them exactly what they desperately hoped for but knew they'd never receive simply because he's 'nicer now'.

"Herobrine," Eret says, "why have you done this?"

"Call me Joe," Herobrine says.

Karl interjects, "Joe mama," under his breath. It is with the utmost shock on Eret's behalf that Karl does not in fact get immediately smited into oblivion, merely smacked on the forehead.

"Now you won't forget," Herobrine-- Joe says. "Anyway, I have shenanigans to be up to back in the canyon, so I'll send y'all back now. Those red vines are bad news, and so is their egg, so y'all better take care of that, please. It's really messing your server up."

Karl blanches. "The canyon?"

"Oh, look at the time. Have fun, be safe, bye," Joe says with affected mild disinterest.

Both Karl and Eret have so much to say, so many questions to ask, but they fade away before they get the chance.

#mcyt #hc x dsmp #hermit canyon au #karl jacobs #eret #joe hills #herobrine #me.cpp

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ranboo5 · 3 years

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Dropping the Ranboo mixtape

Anyway at time of starting to write this post I had two likes and two affirmative replies, which is Good Enough For Me, so here I am :D I was gonna link the YT but on second thought my YT channel is a mess so this is gonna be one of the annoying ones that doesn’t link to one you can actually listen to but

This is also a running list and currently organized roughly by increasingly hotter takes and it’s under a cut bc it’s 13 songs and I justified all of them

Everybody Likes You (Lemon Demon) - LISTEN THE ANIMATION MEMES WEREN’T LYING THAT EVERYBODY LIKES YOU CAN RANBOOCORE. The increasingly distorted, incredibly bright repetition of EVERYBODY LIKES YOU EVERYBODY LIKES YOU EVERYBODY LIKES YOU until you can hear it morphing in and out of EVERYBODY LIED TO YOU? Tell Me That’s Not Him In The Spiral Depths

Tall (Naps the Block on YT) - This is a) literally a theme for the End, b) sounds stumbling and anxious/high-strung, and c) echoes the Pigstep melody in the middle while still very much doing its own thing this is self explanatory

Dance of Thorns/Old Secret mashup (Tensei and James Roach respectively, feat. woodfur00 on YT) (yes this is Homestuck music) - It’s just the vibes. The energy. The way the elegance of the violin lines of Dance of Thorns sounds almost nervous especially against the almost noir mystery vibes of Old Secret, and the guitar lines of Dance of Thorns add like. Initiative/urgency especially when they underlay the other music it’s so good I don’t think either song alone is Ranboo vibes but this remix definitely is. Just the mix of perseverance and desperation and melancholy and mystery and Class

Touch-Tone Telephone (Lemon Demon) - This one is old news but tbh it just works. Man decides he’s the correct one in this situation and he’s losing his entire mind that no one is listening to him because he just is not

2012 (Will Wood) - This one isn’t really clever it’s just about memory loss, derealization, identity, and often self-hatred (“A miserable fuck, but a loud Tao mystical” is a lot). “Did you lose yourself?/It’s always in the last place that you check” sounds so mocking in ways internal monologues like Droice have been and “I might find myself/By retracing my steps” is literally just Ranboo dealing with the Enderwalk; “And not until lobotomy abolished my monotony/Did I applaud autonomy, and modify a lot of me!” works so much for him Dealing With Himself generally, and also “I heard the world would turn to hell/Compared to that, I’m doing well!” is a Him sentiment

Hand Me My Shovel, I’m Going In! (Will Wood) - Jokes about the three hour mining/grinding streams aside. Not only is the chorus so heavily a spiral/self-evaluation mood, but literally consider his thought processes abt the things he’s done/allegedly done and then consider “My dreams were shattered like a stained-glass window/Jesus in pieces! I believe I through a brick right through Him/But my memory could not be saved!/It just seems unlikely that it’s me who was to blame/So I bookmark my DSM, ‘cause I need to remember my place.” And now with the advent of the “experiments” the second verse’s “Take the road on higher ground, and tell me ‘don’t look down! You’ll fall and break your back’/But that just reminds me how there’s more to be found beneath the black!” is more relevant than ever

Friends With You (The Scary Jokes) - Oh my god. Oh my fucking god man. This could be on here for “I put myself to bed just halfway through the party/I love all my friends, but I hate when their eyes are on me” alone but the general almost empty saccharine vibe of the song is immensely his vibe; the humorlessly-smiling vocal fry on “don’t know” in “Why do you pretend/You don’t know who’s to blame?” is probably responsible for 80% of this read. Not to mention the first lyrics are literally “How long do I have to wait/’Til my lonely days are over?” which is really the. The waiting it out man the So When Do I Get To Be Okay of it all. Shoutouts also to “And the crumbling infrastructure no one else can see,” the self hatred of “I miss being friends with you/But what can I do/What can I do/But leave you alone?” and to “And I can tell you really love me/Can you tell I’m really sorry?” Just. The mix of hope+affection and dejected cynicism and self-hatred in the lyrics

Saline Solution (none other than Mr Wilbur Soot) - Remember what I said about waiting it out until you get to be okay? Anyway that’s crystallized in “If I could just break one more night/Maybe I could wake up and feel alright” and also this is literally a song about catastrophizing and self-evaluation just,, in general and I will not be highlighting all the lyrics about this but I will highlight the fact that he literally calls himself pragmatic and also the lyric “blurring the facts and the fiction.” Also, the sheer desperate anger-concealing-breakdown vibes of “I think I’ve made my choice” to “I think I’ve found my voice” deserves a mention, as does the culminating end of “saline solution to all your problems” with the tears+now splash water motifs of it all with Ranboo I am going to die

Funny (The Scary Jokes) - This is actually a softer take but not only does it literally start with the singer pleading with the addressee to look away, it continues with “I went up in the middle of the night and I climbed right onto the stage/And I raged/And I cried/Oh, what a funny joke am I” disregarding everything as performance, reemphasizes the opening demand with the qualifier “it’s not that I hate you, it’s just that I’m funny these days,” and then kills you with the last couple lines which. Yeah he does care and it does,,, just,,,,, a

Chemical Overreaction (Will Wood) - This is where the mood VIOLENTLY whiplashes because this is where we get unhinged. Anyway “I won’t stop to drop to draw a line in the sand/’Cause I’ll be picked apart to pieces by coyotes!” is LITERALLY the whole “I don’t do well with ‘peer pressure’” thing. “Where the sentimental value of the city around ya/Is deleted obsolete, but still completely will stun ya” is the single most L’Manberg lyric I’ve ever heard, especially from the perspective of a character whom I will repeatedly insist is narratively in the role of someone who’s shown up and seen the status quo as an outsider after it’s been established (hence the eternal New Kid vibes). Chorus very much has vibes of Ranboo Is Seized By The Urge To Do Something, and like. The entire dramatic end part. The last two lines especially (be very careful if you look up the vieo for this by the way it is NOT pretty; cws in the video for flashing, blood, suicide imagery)

A Mannequin Adrift (The Scary Jokes) - The Bitterness. This song is just fully The Bitterness at the environment he’s stuck in; the saccharine comes back as does the “peer pressure” thematic and just the Having An Awful Time; the sarcastic saccharine comes back too, which is always good I love passive aggression. Honestly the first verse is just everything like just listen to it it immediately makes sense

Poison Ivy Grows (The Scary Jokes) - This is overall a song about having bad brain and not knowing what the hell to do about it; it’s so faintly bitter and distant and melancholy and also so zoned out. Also, it’s not the only lyric that matters here but it is enough to be a full argument on its own: “I used to spend so much time/Wandering around outside/Now I’ve got too much on my mind/Now I’ve got too much on my mind”

Spring Haze (Tori Amos) - Listen. Do I know what Spring Haze is about? No. Is that gonna stop me from saying it’s about Ranboo? Also no. I just think “You say we’ll never make it there/So all we do is circle it” is so much, the fact that the bridge at the end is just “Why does it always end up like this?” repeated, and that it just feels so much like overall the song feels like a desperate attempt to figure Something out, and the chorus is just inexplicably him? It might be partially influenced by the fact that “Uh-oh, let go, off on my way” and, to a lesser extent, “Uh-oh, way to go” is not only in accordance with character vibes but also vaguely evocative of Ranboo’s speech pattern

#this also has a couple songs pending addition #this post is just That Enderman Is Deeply Troubled. Listen To Scary Jokes

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ufuckingpastry · 3 years

Text

Fic Preview: Amongst Feathers and Emeralds

Yo, I’ve been working on this scene and I’m just so in love with it so I’m gonna give y’all a bit of a fic preview. Cuz this scene makes me soft and I love it.

For the Homestucks in the chat, starfate = moirail. For the others, this is a queerplatonic relationship.

---

“Will you be my starfate?” he blurted out, then snapped his mouth shut so fast his teeth clicked together. Phil blinked and only stared at him. Immediately, Technoblade regretted asking. He should’ve kept quiet, kept his mouth shut. He had ruined their relationship now, ruined their friendship, ruined it all! Technoblade started to step back, unable to stop his mouth from running. “Never mind, I shouldn’t have brought it up, I—”

“Techno,” Phil said, closing the distance between them. His other hand came up to his face and his wings encircled them. “Shhh, it’s alright. Thank you for asking, but…” Phil trailed off. Technoblade gazed at him, waiting for his best friend to finish his thought. His heart thudded in his chest with his growing anxiety. “The way you’ve explained it, it sounds like we already were?”

Technoblade’s brain stopped. Completely. No longer working. All brain cells gone. Even the voices, noisy as they were, stuttered to a halt. And then, almost immediately after, the voices turned into a roar. Technoblade winced at the sound and tried to say something to Phil. Nothing came out of his mouth, no matter how hard he tried. But then, there was Phil, rubbing his thumb over his cheek and bringing their foreheads together.

"Shhh," he crooned, not talking to Technoblade, not really. Phil knew about the voices, knew how loud they could be. He kissed Technoblade's forehead, then dropped a hand to pat his shoulder. "All good?" He asked. The voices died down and Technoblade breathed a sigh of relief.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm good."

"Good, because, mate," Philza said as he started to move away. "I wasn't entirely honest to you about why I was going to be gone for so long. I was going to surprise you later, but maybe now is a good time." He pulled out a handcrafted wooden box and handed it to his friend--his starfate. Technoblade eyed the box and glanced at Phil before he popped it open. His breath caught in his throat.

Laid carefully on emerald silk was a single earring. The earring was almost entirely made from gold with small emeralds inlaid near the top. The gold flowed out into a single feather, ornately sculpted so that even the vanes could be seen. Technoblade traced the feather carefully with the tip of his finger. The earring hummed with magic, enchanted in a way that was familiar, but he couldn't place.

"Phil…" Technoblade breathed, dragging his gaze away from the earring to his starfate.

"They're not made from the friendship emeralds, don't worry. But," he smiled sheepishly. "That's where I got the idea from. I went to Foolish so he could help me get them right. We used my feathers for inspiration."

"Phil," Technoblade started again. He needed Phil to know what this meant, to him, to them, but Phil was still talking.

"Sorry there's only one. But," Phil turned and brushed a lock of his hair back, revealing the earring’s other half hooked in his ear. “I couldn’t help myself.”

Technoblade very carefully put the box aside and surged forward. He scooped Phil into his arms, careful of the wings, and buried his burning face into Phil's shoulder. He squeezed him tightly, resolutely not crying from the sudden emotion threatening to overwhelm him.

"Whoa, mate!" Phil laughed. It was an airy sound, one that reminded Technoblade of chimes tinkling in the wind. "You good?"

"Stop talking. Please, just stop," Technoblade muttered into his shoulder. It was easier to talk when he could pretend he was hidden. Talking was still very hard. "You don't-- you don't even-- you didn't even KNOW what starfate meant! And here you are giving a-- Philza!" Technoblade peeked out from Phil's shoulder to try to communicate with his eyes alone.

"Did I do something wrong?" Phil asked instead, as if there was a single thing in the universe he could do wrong. And at that, Technoblade released some of his tension with a laugh.

"No, of course not." He set Phil down so he could stand next to him against the chests. Phil's wing came up around them again and Technoblade relaxed further. He turned his gaze to the floor, talking with his hands when needed.

"There's gifts you give to your starfate, and then there are starfate gifts. It's--at least with piglins, it's customary that when your starfate gifts you gems or gold, you make that into a gift for your starfate and it means stuff. You make it with the intention they'll think of you when they see it, like--"

"Like designing it after one of my feathers?" Phil offered.

"Exactly. And that, that's significant. It means stuff."

"I wanted to give you something nice."

"Is that all?" Technoblade asked with a quirk of his lips. Phil gave it a moment before he ducked his head with a laugh.

"You caught me."

"Never put it past Philza Minecraft to make something just pretty and not practical!" Technoblade laughed with him. He then bumped hips with Phil and dropped his voice to a whisper. "So what's on it?"

"Prot four and piercing if you need it. Just a little something so it doesn't break during battle," Phil said with a shrug, as if saying that alone wasn't anything special.

"You know me well," Technoblade said as he checked the feather again. In a pinch, he could use it to stab someone, but that would have to be some mighty big circumstances that Technoblade would even consider damaging his starfate's gift.

"So, you like it?" Phil asked as he sidled up closer with the lilting tone of voice one uses when showing off a build they worked hard on. Technoblade bumped their heads together and smiled.

"Do you really have to ask?"

"Yes."

Technoblade huffed and lifted up the earring so he could inspect it further. He could read the protection and piercing enchantments, could recognize those pitches humming this close. But… there was something else here. Some other enchantment that tugged at his memory. It must not be one he used frequently because he could not place it. Phil hadn't offered it up either. So, it either didn't matter or it was meant to be some grand surprise. Knowing Phil, it could be either. If it didn’t matter, then it didn’t matter. If it was going to be some grand surprise, well, Phil kept his secrets well. No amount of asking would give him the answers he sought if Phil wasn’t going to give them freely. So Technoblade held the earring up to Phil with a gentle smile.

“Help me put it on?”

#fic preview #technoblade #philza #dream smp #moirallegiance #mystuff #this is still a work in progress so i know there's stuff in it i gotta fix #but god i love this scene so much #the price i pay to keep you safe #the price i pay #amongst feathers and emeralds

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albapuella · 4 years

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How to Lose a Lover in 10 Days or Less: A Comprehensive Guide to Becoming a Future Romantic Failure (Chapter Three)

AO3

Fandom: Homestuck

Summary: How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days AU Dave needs to win a bet; Karkat needs to write an article. Shenanigans ensue.

Tags: Humanstuck, alternate universe - no sburb session, POV switches galore, implied/referenced child abuse Author’s note: This story is the result of a jam session I did with aceAdoxography on the davekat thirst federation discord server. This one's a little out of my usual wheelhouse, but I hope you will enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it. New chapters every Saturday/Sunday. Didn’t bother with the formatting this time: You want the fancy formatting, go to AO3 :D

Day 3:

Since Karkat had not managed to scare Dave off with the... outburst yesterday, he figured he’d hooked the idiot as well as he was ever going to. Which meant it was time to start fucking it up. He did his best to ignore the sense of loss already forming in his chest at the thought. Whatever frustrations he’d felt during that hang out/date thing Dave had put him through yesterday, he couldn’t deny that he’d enjoyed the experience, too.

Dave was a dork who talked too much, but he was also witty and charming in a maladroit sort of way. And it had been nice to have someone appreciate Karkat’s sense of humor in return. For once. A part of him wished he had longer to enjoy their time together, but he knew better.

Since he knew better, he also knew it wasn’t the time to mope. It was time to go on the full offensive. “Offensive” being the operative word. In this case, it meant acting like himself. Karkat had been on his best behavior up to this point, and now he’d show Dave who the “real him” really was. If he played his cards right, he probably wouldn’t even have to go on another date to seal the deal.

Karkat felt his eyes ache, and he hated himself for being such an idiot. He’d known this wasn’t going to last—even without his article, it never would have lasted. He’d already proven a countless number of times that, while a fairly good friend, he was simply terrible as a romantic partner. Dave was just one more guy he’d never really had a chance with. Just one more tally mark to add to his failures.

---

When Dave woke up the next day, he saw that he had quite a few messages waiting for him. A handful from Rose about wedding plans (with a reminder of the dress code, because of course her wedding would have a fully defined dress code). A bunch from his far-flung friend Jade (mostly telling a story which did not require more than a quick “cool” on his part). A couple from John (who was excited that he’d be seeing Dave at the wedding). There were also several from Karkat. Which was kind of a relief: Dave hadn’t liked that he’d been the first one to message him all the time: it made him feel like he was bugging the guy. Especially after waking him up yesterday.

CG: OKAY ASSHOLE, HERE’S THE DEAL:

CG: YOU WANT TO DATE THE REAL ME. FINE.

CG: I AM DONE BEING ON MY BEST BEHAVIOR.

CG: BE PREPARED FOR ME TO COMMENT ON EVERY INANITY THAT DRIBBLES FROM YOUR MOUTH LIKE THE LEAVINGS OF AN INCONTINENT PIGEON.

CG: YOU ARE NOT HALF AS FUNNY AS YOU THINK YOU ARE. ALSO YOUR “RAPS” ARE AN AFFRONT TO THE GENRE AS WELL AS TO THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

CG: IF YOU THINK I AM JOKING OR BEING “CUTE”, YOU ARE WRONG. A STATE YOU SHOULD BE EXTREMELY FAMILIAR WITH BECAUSE YOU ARE OBVIOUSLY SUFFERING FROM AT LEAST MODERATE BRAIN DAMAGE.

CG: I AM NOT NOR HAVE I EVER BEEN “A SNACK”. I ALSO DO NOT HAVE A “SEXY PROFESSOR THING GOING”. IN THE ENTIRE SPAN OF MY MISERABLE EXISTENCE, I HAVE NEVER BEEN ANYTHING WHICH COULD BE CONSIDERED TO BE IN EVEN THE MEAGEREST OF WAYS “SEXY”.

CG: MAYBE YOU WOULD BE ABLE TO SEE THAT FOR YOURSELF IF YOU EVER TOOK OFF THOSE DOUCHE SHADES YOU ARE ALWAYS WEARING.

CG: I HOPE YOU HAVE ENJOYED THIS SMALL TASTE OF WHAT IS TO COME IN YOUR FUTURE SHOULD YOU DECIDE TO KEEP DATING ME.

Dave read the messages a few times, frowning. Mostly, he felt confused, too confused to feel either amused or insulted. Sudden. This was sudden. Also, the more he read the messages, the more he thought Karkat was being more mean to himself than to Dave. His inner Rose (the voice which sounded like Rose but was not nearly as smart as the real thing) said that Karkat was lashing out, hoping to hurt Dave before Dave could hurt him.

And wasn’t that sad?

TG: first of all

TG: you are a total snack

TG: this is not negotiable

TG: do not pass go do not collect 200 dollars

TG: not to be all objectifying or whatever

TG: but that was literally the first thing i thought when i saw you

TG: that guy is a total snack

TG: and fuck you you are sexy

TG: i bet you look even better without the sweater

TG: you are the bank and im the debtor

TG: payin compliments is my cheddar

TG: need proof read the letter

TG: dear mr vantas you are hella sexy signed me

CG: OH MY GOD.

CG: THAT WAS THE PART YOU CHOSE TO FOCUS ON. I DO NOT UNDERSTAND YOU AT ALL. MOST PEOPLE DON’T LIKE BEING INSULTED. IS THIS A KINK FOR YOU? IS THAT WHAT THIS IS? ARE YOU A FUCKING MASOCHIST?

Dave was grinning so much his cheeks hurt. Nailed it.

TG: im not a masochist

TG: but i think i might be getting a thing for grumpy assholes

TG: it needs more testing

TG: how about we hang out for a few hours today

TG: and see

“CG is typing” appeared and disappeared several times.

CG: REALLY. YOU REALLY WANT TO KEEP DATING ME.

TG: yea unless you dont want to keep dating me

TG: i hope you do

TG: want to keep dating me

TG: i want to know you better

TG: and kiss you sometime

This time the “CG is typing” message went on for quite a while. Dave wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have sent that last message. Then again, he’d already called the guy sexy several times; saying he wanted to kiss him wasn’t weird.

CG: IF YOU’RE SURE YOU WANT TO KEEP DOING THIS, THEN FINE. OKAY. I THINK I WANT TO GET TO KNOW YOU BETTER TOO. JUST REMEMBER I GAVE YOU AMPLE WARNING OF WHAT THE REAL ME IS LIKE. WHEN I INEVITABLY END UP HURTING YOUR FEELINGS, YOU WILL HAVE NO ONE TO BLAME BUT YOURSELF.

TG: score

---

After, unwisely, agreeing to meet Dave at the park again before going to some secret secondary date destination he had in mind, Karkat slipped his phone into his pocket in a daze. He was still reeling. Where had he misjudged this situation? He’d been certain he’d done enough to scare Dave away, and yet, here he was with another date to prepare for. Masochism or brain damage—those were the only options. Considering how much Dave had insisted on Karkat’s attractiveness, he was leaning towards the latter.

Of course, the words alone were only half of the total package. Even Dave would find difficulty deriving whatever enjoyment he got out of Karkat’s insults when they were being delivered at an ear-ringing volume. Karkat heaved a deep sigh. All he had to do was be himself on this date. That had always been enough for every other person he’d dated to leave him. Dave would be no different: he was just dumber, so it was taking him longer to get with the program.

* Thinks I’m “sexy”. Definite brain damage. Probable masochist. Raps have not increased in quality but I’m starting to get used to them.

---

The problem was Dave knew what he liked to do, what he found fun, but he didn’t know Karkat well enough yet to have much of an idea of what Karkat liked to do. Usually, Dave would have just asked, but seeing as Karkat had just been prepared to be dumped, he didn’t think the question would go over well.

When Dave approached the YO this time, Karkat was already sitting on the bench. His head was bowed over his notepad, and he was furiously writing. Although tempted to look over his shoulder and see what he was doing, Dave decided not to. If it turned out to be something deeply personal, he’d feel like a creep.

Whatever it was held Karkat’s full attention. Dave could be very stealthy, but he wasn’t even trying to be quiet as he got closer. Finally, he was standing right beside where Karkat was sitting. Still nothing. Remembering the reaction he’d gotten the other day, he flopped down close to Karkat, making the other man jump. “Hey.”

Karkat brought his notepad up to his chest, hiding it, and glared. Despite his clear irritation and the roominess of the bench, he didn’t move away. “What the fuck, Dave? Are you incapable of conducting yourself like a normal person? Or am I just special?”

Dave grinned. Looked like Karkat had meant what he’d said about acting more like himself. “I don’t know, you are pretty special. Not in the Special Olympics way,” he hastened to add as he realized his compliment might not come across complimentary. “I mean, nothing against them, they’re great,” he continued, now realizing the actual insult he was now offering them and not wanting to be that guy, “but that’s not what I’m talking about.”

A sort of disbelieving half-smile. “Should I stop you now, or let you keep going?”

“Oh, definitely stop me,” Dave said, relieved. He gestured to the notepad Karkat was no longer holding so tightly against himself. “What are you working on?”

“Nothing important,” Karkat said brusquely, shoving the notepad into his bag as though it had personally offended him. “Something for my work.”

It occurred to Dave that he actually had no idea what Karkat did for a living. “What do you do?”

For a moment, Karkat only regarded him with deep suspicion. Then he sighed. “I write for Dubiously Cultured.” Apparently, Dave’s confusion showed on his face, for he elaborated, “It’s basically a gay Cosmo.” Then he frowned. “You know, a magazine with fashion tips? Make-up? Relationship advice?”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Dave said quickly. The last thing he wanted was for his eyes to glaze over on his date like they did when Rose started talking about her magazine (whose title he could not recall at this moment if he’d been being held at gunpoint). “Are you writing an article? Laying down the keep your man tips for the masses?”

Even Karkat seemed surprised by the laughter abruptly bursting from him. “Something like that,” he said once he’d recovered. “You work as a DJ at the Glass, right?”

Honestly, Dave was shocked. He’d been sure Karkat had been just tuning him out! Then again, he had remembered he was from Texas, too. Maybe he just always looked bored and pissed off. “Yeah. It’s not super steady, but it pays the bills.” It actually didn’t pay the bills; Rose’s mom (his mom, she was also his mom) sent him money every month to pay for the apartment and various other expenses. However, his sad family history wasn’t exactly third date material. “You ever been?”

Karkat leveled Dave with a skeptical look which seemed to indicate his estimation of Dave’s intelligence had started low and was only getting lower. “Do I look like the kind of person that would get past a bouncer? Are you actually visually impaired, or are you making fun of me?” He shook his head. “I can see myself in the mirror, jackass; I know what I look like. Stop pretending I’m,” he held up his hands to make the finger quotes, ‘hot’.”

“I’m insulted you would think I’d lie about your hotness. You’re a fucking rooftop in the middle of a Texas summer. I should know; I’ve been there.” The metaphor stirred up memories Dave didn’t want to think about, and he wrapped an arm around Karkat’s shoulder. He immediately wished he’d done it sooner. “Anyway, I’ve already told you, you are a snack. You might as well accept it. It’s obvious. Everyone with eyes can see it. Not you, for some reason, but everyone else.”

“That’s just not true, Dave.” Before he could contest this, Karkat continued, “Most blind people still have eyes, idiot, and they can’t see anything, let alone support your dubious assertion that I’m attractive.” The words practically dripped with sarcasm even as he settled into Dave’s half-embrace. “You’re being so fucking insensitive right now.”

“Oh, shit, you’re right.” The part of Dave not worrying about the words flowing out of his mouth registered how nice and warm Karkat felt under his arm and pressed against his side. “Well, if they got to feel you up, they’d agree you were a snack, too. So, checkmate, Karkat. Check fucking mate. You’re just going to have to accept it. Majority vote. You’re a snack.”

Karkat looked up. “If you tell me you want to eat me, I’m leaving now and blocking your chumhandle.” Then his gaze shifted away. “This is nice,” he said, his voice softer than Dave had thought he was capable of. Maybe it was Dave’s burgeoning hearing loss, but he sounded… sad.

While Dave wanted to ask why he sounded so sad, he figured Karkat would tell him if he wanted him to know. After all, they still hadn’t known each other for very long yet. What was needed was a distraction, and Dave had just the thing to cheer both of them up. “If you think this is nice, you should be super excited for our date.”

---

Karkat had been feeling guilty again. It really had been nice, sitting on that bench in front of that giant art installation, to pretend that there was actually some sort of future for them. For him and Dave. Together. So, he’d been feeling guilty—even if he was an idiot who talked too much, Dave wasn’t a bad guy, and he didn’t deserve what Karkat planned on putting him through.

At least, that’s what Karkat had been thinking until they’d arrived at their final destination.

“A karaoke bar?” Karkat felt a scowl furrow his brow, and he turned it onto Dave, who had the audacity to be grinning at him. “It might interest you to know that I can’t fucking sing.”

Dave shrugged. “No one can at these places, Karkat. That’s why it’s fun.” He pushed his glasses down his nose, allowing Karkat the briefest glimpse of his eyes before he pushed them up again. “You’ve had fun before right? Or do we have to go slow and ease you into it, because fun is a hotel pool with a broken heater, and you haven’t raided the mini-bar yet.”

“Of course I know what fun is, you festering anal wart.” He saw himself ranting reflected in the lenses of Dave’s stupid glasses and looked away. “Fun is a walk in the park, or watching a movie, or going on a picnic, or playing a game. Fun is not embarrassing yourself in front of dozens of strangers by subjecting them to what can only laughingly be called your singing voice!” He started at the unexpected hand on his shoulder but made no move to shrug it off.

“Hey,” Dave said quietly, “if you really don’t want to be here, we can do something else. I don’t really know what you like yet outside of chick flicks. And writing for a magazine. And coming up with creative insults for me.” His grip on Karkat’s shoulder tightened slightly. “Help me out here, Karkat; I’m drowning with only seconds left to live. You’re the hot lifeguard, and I’m gonna need your sweet lips on mine fairly soon, or else I’m leaving the beach in a body bag. And no one wants that.”

Karkat turned back to face Dave. There were so many things to unpack in this latest offering of word vomit that he wasn’t even going to make the attempt. “Do you ever actually listen to the things you say?”

“I try not to,” Dave said blithely. “Messes with my flow.” Then the smile faded. “I mean it, though. If you want to go somewhere else, we totally can. I don’t have my heart set on this place; I just thought it’d be fun. Maybe you’d loosen up a little.”

“I am exactly as loose as I want to be,” Karkat sniped back, tacitly admitting that now he was the one saying stupid things. As much as he wanted to make things difficult for Dave for the sake of his article, he really couldn’t deny being touched that Dave was willing to change his plans because Karkat had complained about them.

Besides, while Karkat could be (and often was) loudly unpleasant and vulgar, it wasn’t the kind of thing he could force. He had to feel it. And he wasn’t feeling it. “No, we can stay. Just are there private rooms?”

Dave was frowning, perhaps in displeasure, perhaps in thought. “We can check.”

---

It turned out that there were private rooms, but they were prohibitively expensive. If this had been something Karkat had really wanted to do, Dave would have shelled out the cash, but he’d known he’d made the right call to spend the date elsewhere when he’d given Karkat the verdict and his shoulders had immediately relaxed.

Although Karkat had also protested that he wasn’t much better at bowling than he was at singing, he’d seemed less agitated about the prospect. He’d actually smiled a little when Dave had confided that he, too, wasn’t much of a bowler. Dave also wasn’t much of a drinker, but when Karkat offered to buy him a beer, he’d accepted it.

Dave was currently sipping his apple? flavored ale from the chair in their section of the alley and watching Karkat lob yet another ball down the gutter. This made, what? the tenth in a row? Dave had managed via blind luck to hit a strike with his first shot—a feat he had not been able to repeat—and that had pissed Karkat off like nothing else. Each additional failure to even get his ball any closer to hitting any of the pins only made Karkat’s face redder.

The only question was when he was going to pop.

“FUCK!” Karkat stomped back to the ball return. “FUCK ME, FUCK BOWLING, AND FUCK YOU, DAVE. YOU THINK YOU’RE BETTER THAN ME? NEWSFLASH, FUCK FACE, YOU ARE JUST AS OBJECTIVELY TERRIBLE AT THIS AS I AM—AT LEAST *I* HAVE THE FUCKING DECENCY TO BE ASHAMED OF MYSELF!”

Dave made absolutely no attempt to hold back his laughter.

“Hey, do you mind watching your language?” An older man in the next lane was giving Karkat quite an impressive glare. “There are kids present.”

Karkat’s face went purple.

---

“Well, Karkat,” Dave said as they walked down the street to no stated destination, his tone infuriatingly casual, “I can honestly say I’ve never been kicked out of a bowling alley before. I can scratch that off the old bucket list. It wasn’t on there because I hadn’t thought of it, but now I see I was blind to the possibilities. Thanks for opening my third eye or some shit like that.”

Karkat had let Dave put his stupid arm around his shoulders about a block back, and he hated the fact it felt so comforting. Bad enough he’d made an ass out of himself over nothing in public (again!), but it hadn’t even worked. He’d wanted to piss Dave off by showcasing his abhorrent personality, and he’d failed miserably. It wasn’t even his fault he’d failed either. For some inscrutible fucking reason, the idiot found temper tantrums hilarious to watch rather than embarrassing to be associated with. “Fuck you, Dave,” he said quietly, his energy quite spent.

Dave chuckled. Case in fucking point. “Aw come on, don’t be like that. It’s not like we’re banned from the place.” He paused. “I’m probably not going to get you to go there again anyway, am I?”

“I am never stepping foot back into that establishment, no.”

“Are you still pissed at me for that strike?” Dave’s voice sounded disbelieving. Maybe a little hurt. “I told you, man, it was a fluke. I wasn’t trying to hustle you. If I’d wanted to hustle you, there’d be money involved. That’s how that shit works. It’s like the definition of a hustle.”

Karkat sighed. “No, I’m not mad about that.” He hadn’t really been that mad about it in the bowling alley either. He’d just been frustrated. Loudly. Which was how he usually expressed his frustration. In the moment, it made him feel better… afterwards, he just felt tired. “I’m just really fucking embarrassed, okay? I know embarrassment is probably a foreign concept for you, but—”

Then he was being hugged. He tensed for a moment, then relaxed into it. He knew he shouldn’t be accepting Dave’s comfort, that this was only going to make things harder in the long run, but he couldn’t help himself. He really was such a selfish asshole. His head fell naturally against Dave’s shoulder, and he felt a distressingly familiar ache in his eyes. “Why are you hugging me?”

A soft guff of laughter blew past his ear. “Dude, you looked like you needed a hug. I’m not a hug expert or anything, but sometimes you look at a guy and think, that guy, he needs a hug.” The arms around him held him just a little tighter. “I hope you leave me a good review on yelp.”

Karkat choked on his unexpected laughter. “Dave. You are so fucking ridiculous.” As much as a part of him wanted to remain in his arms, he knew if he stayed any longer, he really would start crying. “Let go of me, asshole.”

Dave did so with only a moment’s hesitation. He put his hands on his hips. “So, what do you think?”

“About what?” Karkat successfully resisted the urge to wipe his eyes. With any luck, Dave wouldn’t notice how tear bright they probably were. Why was he getting so emotional anyway? None of this would matter soon enough.

“My review,” Dave said as though Karkat should have any idea what he was talking about. “Five out of five stars, right? Don’t crash my yelp score, dude—I have a reputation to maintain as hug master supreme; it’s all I have.”

And Karkat was laughing again. It really felt good.

---

* Gives nice hugs. Doesn’t respect personal space. Karaoke bar? Shitty bowler. Why isn’t this working?

---

{{ The third step is the ego. For Dr. Freud (famous psychology hack), the ego was a moderator. For our purposes, we return to the original Latin: I. Make it all about you and your comfort. If you have had enough of your short-term partner’s incessant prattle, say so. When you want to scream, do it at the top of your lungs. Use whatever language feels best to you at all times regardless of the situation. Make your short-term partner embarrassed to be associated with you. If you can get you and your short-term partner kicked out of an establishment due to your behavior, so much the better. However, if you find that such antics only serve to amuse your short-term partner, cease them immediately. The point of this exercise is to humiliate your short-term partner, not further endear you to them. Also, in the event that you are more embarrassed by your conduct than your short-term partner is, under no circumstances allow them to comfort you. It will only distract you from your objective. }}

#Homestuck #humanstuck #davekat #fan fic #my fic #wip

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clambuoyance · 5 years

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homestuck epilogue theory[spoilers]

Im going to preface this with the fact that the epilogues gave me mixed, confused feelings, but I still want to understand them.

First off, Dirk’s actions were incredibly shitty and left a lot of people confused, especially if you really liked Dirk, like me. Personally, I want to strangle him. But Im here to provide one theory on the reasoning behind how he was written and portrayed.

1)Drawing parallels to play up Villain Dirk

Whether you accept the epilogues or not, the worst part is that Villain Dirk actually sounds like a plausible thing to me. Even in canon, he’s always been paralleled with and taunted by Caliborn about this “darkness” I guess. I meant technically their souls shared Lil Cal’s body.

Here’s some evidence to that ig:

He’s “ nothing like that guy” yet he says...

which feels awfully familar.

Dirk tries to deny it, but it stings to see him really fit himself into that Villain role by drawing a blatant parallel with Lord English himself, who was supposed to be the Big Bad of homestuck?? While not completely like Caliborn, anyone would immediately recognize the parallel with LE/Caliborn’s catchphrase which is a little different given the “here” vs “gone” but it’s definitely a parallel. A disturbing parallel between two power hungry gods.

I’m not sure but maybe the events of masterpiece played an effect in their connection. You know when he used his powers on Caliborn and accidentally got their souls and others stuck in Lil Cal?

Ugh there’s also the way Dirk manipulated Rose, which immediately reminded me of when Doc Scratch manipulated her so long ago. Both have a similar pretentious ego. Yet another character connected to Dirk and Caliborn through Lil Cal.

2) Narrative Style

Im pulling stuff from @loreweaver-universe ‘s theory here: http://loreweaver-universe.tumblr.com/post/184331954329/spoilery-homestuck-epilogue-thoughts which is very insightful. Absolute galaxy brain. I’m really just building off this theory to connect it to what i said above. But please check that one out.

Homestuck was always Meat AND Candy, never Meat OR Candy.

Basically, a strictly Meat path calls for a different narrator than a strictly Candy path, as does a combo narration. Which kind of makes sense. When I first read Candy, I felt empty, like the author didn’t care about what was happening to the characters. It kind of makes sense if you consider Muse! Calliope to be the narrator, like OP said. Empty. Hollow. Apathetic. She doesn’t do anything to help John at all.

So if you’re going to have a foil to that narration for a strictly Meat path, it actually makes sense for it to be Dirk.

Dirk already has so many similarities to Scratch and Caliborn--basically shared a body with them--and both Scratch and Caliborn have taken over the narrative at some point in canon so I can see how Dirk would too. Not only that, but his controlling personality nicely contrasts his narrating style with that of the Candy path, because he insists on directly influencing the plot left and right like he does.

Last note-

I still have a sliver of hope for Dirk, but maybe hussie just wanted to comment on the two types of narration.

#dirk strider #dirk strider meta #homestuck meta #homestuck epilogues #homestuck theory #homestuck epilogues theory #upd8 #clams a fool

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katreal-fic · 5 years

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Day 5 — for #fictober 10/05/19

Prompt: “I might just kiss you.”

Fandom: Homestuck

Warnings: Cursing, 2nd Person POV

Part of a series. Please start from the beginning!

Characters: Dirk Strider & Roxy Lalonde

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x-x-x

Dirk > Get Over It

You don’t get over it. But, you’ve had years of the intrusions to learn to live with it. You pick yourself after time and the sea breeze allow the most persistent of the whispers to fade back into your brain. You don’t know how to stop it. You don’t think you can. Maybe it’s just in the universes’ cards that you’ll never be able to escape the insufferable and unignorable presence of your selves. Splintered, doomed, it’s a big old party full of the one person you hate the most.

You’re on the computer this time, digging into some of the less physical aspects of your work for CrockerCorp. Coding wasn’t your favorite thing, but aside from Roxy and ARq, you were probably one of the better around, and as far as you know, neither of them were helping Jane out on a consulting basis. You ignore the humming in the back of your mind, the phantom disconnect bubbling out from some deep inner core that leaves you watching your hands performing their tasks and yet--not under your control at all. An observer. Weightless, formless, trapped in a world of numbers and words with only a single view to the world beyond.

Only that isn’t right, you could take the stairs to the roof and go wherever the fuck you wanted to. Maybe you’re trapped, but it’s your own damn choice.

That’s the most unnerving of the loose threads, you think, because you know exactly who is leaking through there and at least he has more of a right to inflict this shit on you than any of the others.

It keeps leaking. Mixing. You wonder if one day you’ll stop noticing and cataloging and just accept it all as your lot in life. Maybe even use it.

You send off the finished product--even with clumsy as hell organic interfacing tools, you work more efficiently at this sort of task when your auto-responder rises to the surface--and scroll through your inbox for another one.

One stands out from amongst the mixture of spam emails that somehow keep getting around your ever more sophisticated filter (you suspect ARquiusprite to be behind it, but have no proof) and the more mundane business communication you maintain with CrockerCorp’s research division. You used to go straight through Jane but...as the company expanded it became more efficient to just work directly with the developers since Jane wasn’t very plugged in to that particular aspect for the business. It unnerves you a little, thinking of the small bakery she opened to take back her family name from the Batterwitch, only for the business to balloon into such a multi-industry giant, filling many vital services in this world and only rivaled in scale by Jake’s revival of SkaiaNet.

But you suppose that’s the responsibility of a god, taking the world in hand and guiding it. Benevolent patrons, looking down from on high, shaping the course of history and society into the best form it could be. Someone’s got to recreate the internet (the world’d better thank you and Roxy and ARquiusprite for that) and you weren’t willing to wait around for it to happen organically. Shit needed to get done, and sometimes, the eight of you were the ones who needed to do it.

The rogue email stands out with it’s bright pink text and typo filled subject line. Why would Roxy send you an email? Why didn’t she just hit you up on Pesterchum or--

A thought and you have the window open in the corner of your display, fighting, and failing to resist the urge to press your palms into your face when you notice the little red dot next to Do Not Disturb. A little further digging and you turn up some unread notifications that never got sent due to the privacy settings.

Of fucking course. Of course you’d automatically flip it to DND when in one of your spirals and not even realize it. You remedy that mistake, but instead of scrolling back through Roxy’s messages--there’s also a meme sent your way from Dave, accompanied by an ironic selfie of him and Karkat from, Jesus Christ that was a month ago--you turn back to the email in your inbox. This would be the newest one, given the time stamp, which was only an hour ago.

There’s a picture attached, a night shot of New City, near where Roxy and Calliope set up. Roxy’s got the whole selfie thing going, smiling and radiant for the camera, pink eyes sparkling with mischief as she framed the background shot just perfectly.

There’s an orange and green streak across the cityscape, the tall buildings in the distant background, their lit windows shining like a million stars from across the bay. Calliope has her green-suited arms wrapped tightly around their neck, highlighted by feathered wings obviously hitting the end of their orange end of the gradient and starting down the green path. Despite the obvious speed (you can tell from the way Davepeta’s currently green coat is caught mid-whip behind them) the picture is perfectly clear and focused, as if you are looking through a window into an image frozen in time.

Damn she’s good.

wishin’ u were here di-stri. i heard u got out a little. maybe u shuld do it again. liek maybe come out my way next tiem?? ;) we have fun.

You chew on the inside of your lip, studying the picture. The frozen mixture of delight and mild terror on Calliope’s face. The mischief on Roxy’s. You can’t see Davepeta’s even if you zoom in, what with the ever present glow beneath their skin and the glasses currently matching the same orange of their wings. You bet they are having a blast though. How did they manage to talk Calliope into that? You didn’t talk to the cherub much on your own, but you were under the impression she was a skittish thing.

Your hand moves on its own, triggering the sylladex withdrawal on reflex. The feather hums quietly in your hand. It’s fading. The colors duller. Moving slower. But it’s there and it’s a comfort and…

Maybe you should.

You open Pesterchum back up.

TT begins pestering TG

TT: Sorry Ro-Lal, I was buried in work. TT: If you’re free I could probably head out your way tomorrow. I’m at a lull in my projects.

You aren’t, really, but as you’ve been so clearly reminded by the peanut gallery, none of this shit actually matters. And…

You miss Roxy. If you turn down this invitation…

Well, they already stopped coming once, and you let them.

You don’t expect an answer immediately; the carapacian kingdom was a few timezones ahead of your ocean bound kingdom. It’s well into dinner time and you bet she’s a little busy with her guests and being the most kickass hostess of all time.

You barely pull up another project and start studying the design specifications before the window on your shades spring open, searing excited bright pink across your eyeballs.

TG: omg dirk really??? this is going to be awesome!!! Callie and i promised to take ARq and peta out for more shenanignss but oh my gawd thisll be soo much fun! Itll be liek old times! Ull have to keep me updatedf on ur ETA TG: gawd i havent seen you in so long i might just kiss u TG: plonk a big one rite smack dab on each cheek TT: Don’t make me reconsider now, Rox. TT: You know how I feel about smooches, advanced warning or not these cheeks are off limits without applying for a permit. It’s private real estate. TG: nu’uh buster no take backsies!!! U accepted the invitation u gotta put up with the potential of that ill be so overcome with joy at seeing ur face that there’ll be a shower of friendly smooches TG: see u tomorrow <3 TT: Tomorrow, it is Roxy.

You talk a bit more, but Roxy soon excuses herself to do the hosting thing, and you’re left wondering what you’d gotten yourself into.

You’d forgotten Davepeta was traveling with ARquius.

Trapped. Trapped and it’s your own damn fault.

There’s no way you’ll let Roxy down after all that though.

You’ll just have to deal with it when you get there.

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#fictober19 #homestuck #homestuck fanfic #dirk strider #roxy lalonde #earth c fic #a sea with a sky full of diamonds #fic: diamonds #kat's fics #technically still counts as the 5th #tomorrow might not go up till monday tho #I have a paper to write

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waitineedaname · 5 years

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tell me about the strilondes (i would go anonymous, but it wouldn't be a secret anyway)

HELL YEAH LET’S GO

Rose

How I feel about this character

she’s extremely good!! somehow kind of underrated despite being one of the main characters? she reminds me of someone I would’ve gravitated towards when I was her age lol we would’ve been friends in like eighth grade

All the people I ship romantically with this character

I mean Kanaya, obviously. Can’t go wrong with rosemary. also maybe Vriska but only in highly specific spades circumstances

My non-romantic OTP for this character

John/June!!!! their interactions in the early parts of Homestuck are so fucking funny, and they seem to really bring out the best in each other

My unpopular opinion about this character

I don’t really have any spicy takes on Rose... I’ll just go with something funny: she’s the most chaotic of the strilondes. Yes, she has more of a brain to mouth filter than some other people in her family, but her impulse decisions are Big and Dramatic. this is the girl who argued with her brother about going on a suicide mission, lost the argument, and then knocked him unconscious so she could go on the suicide mission anyway. what a woman.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

GIVE! HER! HER WIFE! am I talking about the meat epilogues? am I talking about how we didn’t get rosemary in pesterquest? BOTH BABY, I WANT ROSEMARY

Dave

How I feel about this character

that there is my SON. I would die for this boy. he’s one of those characters that I liked upon first meeting, and then he only got better from there

All the people I ship romantically with this character

I will talk endlessly about how good his relationship with Karkat is, don’t even test me. I could maybe get behind him and John too? It’s one of those ships that I don’t actively ship but it’s cute when I see it

My non-romantic OTP for this character

pale John and Dave is oh so very good!!! I shipped that before I even knew what moirallegiance was and only knew it was kinda like QPRs. also, his familial relationship with Roxy makes me so happy

My unpopular opinion about this character

again, I don’t really have any spicy takes on him? uhhh this is really only because I’ve come across a couple really old fics on ao3, and folks. this boy is not cool. he THINKS he’s cool and he PRETENDS he’s cool, but he’s really a BIG DWEEB. incredibly awkward. never been cool a day in his life. this hasn’t been an unpopular opinion in a while but eh

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

I would’ve liked to have seen him interact with some other trolls! like Sollux or somebody, or even more interaction with Kanaya! his conversations with her were very funny and I wish there was More

Dirk

How I feel about this character

garbage boy stink man. I love him dearly. he’s so easy to pick on and I don’t know why, but he’s so much fun to bully relentlessly even though I love him as a character

All the people I ship romantically with this character

John! I didn’t ship dirkjohn at first, and then I read Romancing The Spitting Image Of Your Ex and it made me cry so here we are

My non-romantic OTP for this character

ROXY!!!!! they are pale and good. also his friendship with Jane is super underrated!

My unpopular opinion about this character

I Do Not Like d/rkj/ke. both because of aro jake reasons, and because it just? wasn’t good for either of them? they’re just not romantically compatible, and that’s FINE. they can be FRIENDS. FOR FUCKS SAKE.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

I’d love to see how his initial interactions with Kanaya and Karkat went. he was probably like “oh shit these are Dave and Rose’s partners, I should do the older brother thing and intimidate them” and then they both decimate him

Roxy

How I feel about this character

MY LOVE! I LOVE THEM SO MUCH. FUCK. GOD THEY’RE SO GOOD. sometimes I think about Roxy too much and my heart explodes

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Jane, Callie, or Jane AND Callie! Also, I’ve seen some cute stuff with Jade and Terezi too. Roxy just has so much love to give :’)

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Dirk! and Jake! Roxy is a Pale Sorcerer, moirallegiance runs in their veins. also their dynamic with Hal is quite good, and of course I love them and Rose and Dave

My unpopular opinion about this character

not necessarily unpopular but definitely a hot take: Roxy and Terezi are objectively the best characters in homestuck. the COMPLEXITIES. the HUMOR. the STRENGTH. the FLAWS. homestuck peaked on page 1524 when Terezi first spoke, and then again on page 4156 when Roxy first spoke, and that’s just the facts

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

I want them to talk. to more. trolls. pls. and also talking to John about the fact that the two of them (and half of Davepetasprite I guess) are the only ones left from their universe :(

#hs blogging #I love the strilondes.....#I don't have many unpopular opinions?????#except for the d*rkj*ke one LMAO #braveadrien #asks

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edenfalling · 5 years

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[Fic] “Frog Hunt” -- Homestuck

Summary: SBURB is not turning out anything like you'd hoped, and your game session may be broken. Which is a problem, because you can't go back to Earth -- last you checked, it's busy being an apocalyptic wasteland -- and judging by your most recent dreams, the rest of the Medium beyond your little Incipisphere is an equally apocalyptic wasteland of ghosts and horrorterrors. The only way out is through. You have to win the game.

Winning SBURB requires frogs.

Note: I started this fic way back in 2012, hit Jade's horrorterror dreams, and had no idea where to go from there. Last week it occurred to me that actually the horrorterror dreams made a perfectly reasonable ending, provided I filled in a missing middle scene, established an emotional/thematic through-line, and tweaked stuff until the new parts played nice with the old ones. So I did. :) [2,325 words]

--------------------------------------------- Frog Hunt ---------------------------------------------

SBURB is not turning out anything like you'd hoped. You wanted to see your friends in person, go on cool adventures, and save the world. You guess technically the cool adventure part is happening? But it turns out that being in the middle of an adventure is mostly very upsetting and dangerous.

Also your game session may be broken. Which is a problem, because you can't go back to Earth -- last you checked, it's busy being an apocalyptic wasteland -- and judging by your most recent dreams, the rest of the Medium beyond your little Incipisphere is an equally apocalyptic wasteland of ghosts and horrorterrors. The only way out is through. You have to win the game.

Winning SBURB requires frogs.

You have a lot of pointed questions to ask whoever designed the symbolism behind this process.

You also have no idea what you're doing. Zoology is not your thing! Botany and rocket science are your things!

But you've done crazier things in the name of friendship than breed magic universe-creating frogs. And this time you'll have Dave by your side, even if all he can help you can do is win the Olympic gold medal for synchronized flipping out, which might as well be a thing now since Earth is gone and if anyone ever reestablishes the Olympics it will be you and you can stick in any sports you feel like.

That analogy may have gotten away from you a little. You decide to preemptively consider it Dave's fault, and send him another message asking for an ETA.

"Kanaya says we won't have enough time to collect all the frogs, let alone raise them and do the breeding and mutation stuff. Not even if we yank Rose and John into the project, and especially not with just you and me," you tell him when he shows up in person, popping out of nowhere with two discs floating at his side. They look a little like Grandpa's old vinyl records, but with red gears turning underneath them. "Not that you aren't helpful! But there's only so many seconds until disaster."

Dave arches the backs of his hands, fingertips still ghosting over the ridges of his floating record thingies. "Harley, c'mon, work with me here. What's my aspect?"

You blink. Oh. Time travel, durr. Okay, possibly your flipping out was a little premature. "Whoops, forgot that! Potentially infinite seconds, yay recycling. So how are we doing this?"

Dave shrugs, letting the records vanish back into his sylladex. "We have limited absolute time, basically from when I got your house up to reasonable height to, let's say, an hour before whatever runs us off the rails goes critical. So we have to maximize our use of space -- duplicate this ectobiowhatthefuck setup and run an assload of slime zapper tadpole tanks at once. I'm thinking one on each of the top ten floors of your house. We'll do one floor on each master loop so we don't keep running into each other. Mark the space and time coordinates for each croaker we target, then head out to poke them or whatever literally the second after we zap them, take notes on any other frogs that look useful, and move down a floor and back in time to start again."

"What about breeding?" you ask.

You think Dave frowns. It's hard to read his expression behind his shades, but he doesn't guard his posture as much as his face. "Whoops, forgot that. Uh, let's say every third floor and third loop is for breeding and mutation games. Shouldn't be too hard, especially if we whip up a regular appearifier. They don't have these bullshit temporal lock restrictions."

"Sounds like a plan," you say. "Let's get everything set up and start breeding!"

Dave's discombobulated expression is so faint and brief that if you'd blinked, you would have missed it. Hmmm, you think to yourself. Maybe...? But no, you probably just reminded him of something one of the trolls said. They can be so bizarre sometimes.

"Time to rock and roll," Dave says, and you shake off your daydream and get to work.

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

It turns out that ectobiology is actually very simple! You don't need to know genetics or metaphysical zoology, which you were a little worried about. You just need to zap frogs and run their ghost slime through the game-provided machines until you hit a gene combination that pings a little automated reward mechanism. Scanning for useful frogs is a little trickier, since you get the reward ping for any potentially useful gene sequence even if it's one you already have on file -- you have to weed out the duplicates manually, which is time-consuming and a total pain.

Creating hundreds of potential paradoxes to make sure the appearifier grabs slime instead of actual frogs is also time-consuming and a total pain.

It would be simplest to just shoot the frogs, but first of all, that's mean, and second of all, it would probably screw up LOFAF's ecology to storm around wiping out its native fauna less than an hour after thawing them out in the first place. If you had a dart gun you could trust not to mangle the frogs on impact, maybe you could stun them for a few minutes. Unfortunately, all of Grandpa's guns (and by extension, all of your guns) are designed to shoot projectiles straight through solid objects and totally fuck up their day. Which means that instead of perching in a tree like a cool and sexy sniper, you are galumphing around on the ground, hot and sticky and covered in a gross combination of mud and panicked frog secretions. Ugh.

"I look like a swamp zombie, don't I?" you say before you can think better of the words.

"Yeah, but in a cute monster-girl way," Dave says. "I'm just a scarecrow that got left out in the rain and turned into a mold sculpture."

You look over at him just as a clump of mud and moss slides down the left lens of his shades. "Um. No comment." You are determinedly not noticing that he said you're cute. Nope. Completely thought-free zone over here, nothing but genetics and logistics, which everyone knows require no brain power at all.

Dave shakes his head in faux solemnity. "Tragic. Faced with the death and destruction of my awesome good looks and you can't even dredge up a "That's sad"? I am betrayed. I am devastated. I am--"

"--still cute underneath the glop, stop fishing for compliments," you interrupt, and are furiously grateful for the mud hiding your blush. Stupid Dave and his stupid... everything. Why do you even like him? He's such a butt.

Of course, all your friends are kind of jerks. Possibly there's something miscalibrated about your friend-finding radar. Or possibly you're also a jerk? Hmm. That's something to ask Rose about, whenever you finally get to see in her person.

You will get to see her in person. You refuse to acknowledge any other possibility.

"Ouch," Dave says, but the corner of his mouth quirks up just a degree. "Damned by faint praise. I guess I'd better step up my frog-napping skills, can't let my dashing good looks outweigh my knightly swag. Speaking of which, have we been standing still long enough for that little orange fucker to stick his head out?"

You glance around, then down, then up. There's a tiny flash of color just over-- you shift slightly-- yep, right there on the tree by Dave's shoulder. "Um. Yeah. Just... keep standing still. Really still."

"Making like a tree, yes ma'am Sergeant Harley ma'am," Dave says as you inch slowly toward him through the muck between the tree roots. "It's right behind me, isn't it? Getting all ready for a jump scare, gonna leap out and poison me to death with its slimy frog toes, alas, Horatio, here dies a fellow of infinite memes, taken from us too--"

You lunge.

You catch the frog.

You also knock yourself and Dave flat into the muck. His shades knock into your forehead. Your own glasses skew against his nose. Your left knee is jammed between his shins and his belt buckle is digging into your stomach.

Your mouth is right up against his chin. If you moved just an inch or two...

"Ooh, Miz Harley," Dave says, somewhat breathless.

"Oh, shut up," you say, and shove the frog into your sylladex as you scramble back to your feet. "Look who's talking, Mister Swamp Thing."

Then you bend down to yank Dave up, too, because fair is fair.

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

By the fourth loop you're ready to drop from exhaustion and the weird, indefinable tension of actually being around one of your friends in person instead of getting to mediate your interactions through computers. "I don't care how tight the schedule is. I'm starting to see double and I'm taking a goddamn nap," you tell Dave as you drop to the floor and lean back against the wall. You lay your rifle across your lap and keep your hands carefully away from the trigger. You know your temper sharpens when you're tired, and Grandpa taught you never to take chances with guns.

Dave frowns, and you know he's tired too because this time you can see his mouth curve downward to match the annoyed set of his shoulders and the fuck-you shove of his hands into his pockets. "The more loops we run, the harder it is to keep shit from falling apart," he says. "You that eager to trip into a doomed timeline? I can go back and hit reset anytime, easy as cake and pie and banana splits, but every screwup costs one dead Dave and one Jade abandoned in a dead-end universe. I don't even know if that you would get erased or keep on living until you go shithive maggots."

He's been talking to the trolls too, you remember, especially the teal one who uses l33tsp34k. He says her name is Terezi. She's been running time loops with him too. He likes her a lot.

You are not jealous. That would be stupid. You are not stupid; therefore you are not jealous. QED.

"The more tired we are, the harder it is to keep from screwing up," you say. "We're creating a whole new universe and we'll have to live there after we win the game. It's kind of important, Dave!"

Dave presses his back against the wall and slides down to join you on the hard tile floor. "We're not gonna win the game, you know. There is literally no way to do that. The game was borked from before the word go was a twinkle in its druggie teen mom's eye."

"Maybe this session's broken," you agree. "But that doesn't mean we can't find a way to cheat, and even if we lose, I'd rather lose trying my hardest instead of half-assing shit because I was so tired I fell asleep while operating complicated machines."

Dave sighs. "Yeah, okay. Naptime. But not here. This is a work floor; we've gotta keep it clear for work loops. We'll go crash further down." He taps your shoe with his own. "Up and at 'em, Harley, let's go hit that transportalizer."

You groan and haul yourself to your feet.

The obvious place for a nap would be your bedroom, but then where would you sleep on the next loop? Anyway, you only have one bed and it'd feel... presumptuous? pushy? maybe just go with awkward. Yeah. It would be awkward to share it with Dave, especially without John and Rose there as well to clarify that it's strictly a friend thing.

So you alchemize an armful of blankets and pillows and make a little nest in one of the hundreds of blank, identical stories Dave copied from the real-world part of your house. It's still a little weird sharing the space -- Dave is so close you can feel him breathe, every exhale stirring stray wisps of hair over your ears -- but you think you could get used to this.

You think maybe you want to get used to this.

"Sweet dreams, Jade," Dave mutters as he flops over onto his side, one hand curled loosely around the hilt of his sword.

"You too," you tell him, before you remember he's just going to wake up on Derse as his dreamself, still stuck in this stupid, lying, Möbius tangle of a game. And you're going back to those weird bubbles in the monster-filled void. Neither of you can get free until you finish Frankensteining your magic frog and beat an unwinnable game.

"Heroes always beat million to one odds in stories," you say to nobody in particular. "Why not us?"

Dave mumbles something unintelligible in response, already mostly asleep.

You wiggle sideways until your shoulder brushes up against his, so the warmth of his body radiates through the thin blanket onto you and your warmth feeds back into him. He's alive. You're both alive. Somewhere else in the Incipisphere, John and Rose are (you hope) also still alive.

You would do anything to make sure your friends make it out of SBURB, to a new world safe from meteors and monsters and predestination. Anything.

You dream of bloody, mangled ghosts, groping desperately toward you for salvation while you stand frozen under the horrorterrors' incomprehensible regard.

In the dream, you imagine yourself reaching for Dave's hand. You imagine him weaving his fingers between yours. You imagine Rose and John standing beside you. You imagine all four of you stepping through a door into a new universe.

If you imagine something with all your heart, that makes it a tiny bit less fake, and being less fake means it's at least a little bit real.

The pressure of the horrorterrors' attention attenuates, just that vital fraction.

You turn away from the ghosts and think of frogs.

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

End of Fic

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

If anyone has constructive commentary, I am all ears! Also I am going to bed soon, because being awake is overrated and also I took a Benadryl in order to eat a BLT for dinner, so, you know, probably better to lie down than to slowly drift off in front of my computer. *wry*

#liz writes stuff #homestuck #jade harley #dave strider #generalized content warning #to about the same level as canon anyway #does homestuck count as its own warning by now?

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roquereptil · 5 years

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candy epilogue , ah shit! here we go again...

instead of reading it in a one nighter during a weekend like i wanted, i decided i wanted to pass parasitology this year and studied instead (i passed btw, oh and NEVER GO SWIMING IN A LAKE/SWEET WATER WITOUT COVERING YOU NOSETRILS OR YOUR BRAIN IS GOING TO BE DEVOURED BY AMOEBAS)

it took me 1 day (karkat’s b day it seems, i only remember 413 and the others i trust the fandom to remind me, also it seems corporate overlord vizmedia docent believe in homestuck magic numbers to make upd8s, no matter the fandom will do stuff anyway)to read the entire thing, honestly it feels longer than meat but i cant tell if it was actually longer.

[spoilers]

i was expecting some things (because i got spoiled with memes/fix-it comics) but the most basic thing i expected wasnt there, i thought that caliope was the narrator of the non canon earth c narrative, that we would get an unexpected twist, the color of the letters of narration would change to red to reveal dead caliope as the master of narrative of these universe, but that didnt happened, every interaction, opinion and personality trait was untainted (at the very least, it was untainted after jonh chose to stay, its posible dirk was manipulating jane and jake for his agenda before jonh fucked his plans.) its very clear if we look at how jake behaves in candy compared to meat, then again candy has timeskips and meat docent, so maybe in the future of meat eart c, jake will also, in the end do the right thing and save his son from jane.

once again no one acted ooc, just acted in the worst posible outcome,but we cant be sure about this because of how bizzare everyone is acting , and it docent help that our narrator is jonh in most of the story, its not until the talk with roxy that we can start to understand this, he thinks no ones actions are real or of their own will, roxy proves its not true. however i still dont understand where does alive caliope stands in all of this, at first i thouhgt this was her master plan, but as the story progressed things went to shit and she didnt seem bothered by it, so she wasnt pulling any strings at all.

OH and thank you whoever wrote this for making 50% of all of jade’s tag in rule 34 canon. im sure most of the fandom wanted that specific part of her anatomy to be adressed in the story for reals (i had to take deep breath everytime it was brought up to avoid either laughing like crazy or ragequiting)

in the end i noticed that, you can read meat without reading candy for it to make sence in a narrative point of view, bad things happen, villian is revealed, more bad things happen, heroes gather up to defeat villian, story ends with a sequel expected. (with the exception of the afterscript)

in candy things happened that make no sence unless you have read meat first, if you see both epilogues as one singuler story everthing makes more sence however. but also candy ends kinda...halfway there, we know lord english is about to fall in the middle of a human-troll war and that dead caliope will deafet him in order to cross into meat/canon earth c to stop dirk, but just like int the animation before the homestuck credits, all of that is left for the readers to guess.

also you cant convince me that holo-obama wasnt an invention of dirk to fuck up dave, everything in that part screamed “DIRK’s EVIL PLAN FOR DAVE INCASE HE DIES” so yeah i dont know where he stands in the sence of against dirk or with dirk, but i think he will be with dirk most likely

also i hope the new kids get to play a role later on.

so to end this i have to say..uh...FUCK GAMZEE AND JANE?? I GUESS?

#homestuck #homestuck epilogues #candy epilogue #roquereptil

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abundantchewtoys · 5 years

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HS Epi: Meat p16 reaction

Reaction under the cut!

Still in the process of, well, processing the defeat of Lord English and all those deaths.

I wonder if, through some esoteric means, Jade's body would be used by Caliborn to try and escape his fate. She's an ex-First Guardian, so he might have a connection to her body. Plus, if that would happen, that would be the final time the wolf head could be connected to LE - since Jade's half dog.

Blaperile thought also of the server representing LE's DNA, running somewhere in the Furthest Ring. Maybe that fell into the Black Hole too, though?

I wonder what is even going to happen to John now. I mean, he still has the Ring of Life, someone could find him and put it on his finger. Someone like Terezi. It could be Meenah as well, in an ultimate sacrifice - she once said she'd run him through again to steal his ring, but maybe she'll sacrifice her chance at life for him. Some form of ultimate redemption for the Condesce, in a way.

If Terezi finds him, odds are she'll have found out about Vriska somehow. :/ I doubt any ghosts are left in the Furthest Ring on the one hand. On the other hand, we haven't seen any mention of any of the other trolls mentioned in the character list. Nor of GO Vriska & Terezi, though they might have double died through the cracks that encroached on them.

A third option to find John is Aradia - since she was so intent on witnessing the end of Paradox Space and seeing what'd happen if the place came falling apart.

Or maybe John will have some sort of vision, like a special afterlife, with his Dad there, before he wakes up / revives? I can only hope.

I doubt the Ring is multi-use, but if it were, it would sure be something if Meenah could be revived as well as John! And for Aradia and Terezi (and Meenah?) to come back with him to Earth C, now there's nothing left in the Furthest Ring for them. If Meenah came to Earth C, the Crocker run for president would have some serious competition! :P Not that I'd really root for Meenah to win, though, since she's quite clearly unfit to lead a country, only a strike force.

I've also got to wonder how long Andrew has been planning to have Davesprite be the one to kill Lord English? I'm sure much of what Davepeta became grew organically, as well as the other components of Lord English, but it seems to me the Davesprite part was always planned. But he sure is a master of tying in later details into the evolving story.

Like, for instance, LE biting Dave's head off reminds me of Hearts Boxcars doing the same for Eggs. Dave and eggs...

So, it was all doomed and retconned selves that were instrumental in bringing down Lord English, you know. John is pre-retcon, the other B2 kids came from a temporary offshoot. Tavros was also pre-retcon. Meenah came from a scratched session. Davesprite was doomed. All those troll ghosts were doomed. Alternate Calliope was doomed. The only exception is the Nepeta part of Davepeta, and she was so irrelevant to the timeline's major events before her prototyping as to almost not count. These were the glitches in spacetime that could kill Lord English. It's fitting, since Lord English was so focused on the main timeline and being the 'alpha', that he couldn't see where his 'doom' would come from.

Anyway. The page ended with a command to John, so I'm rather convinced the next page will continue from John's perspective.

---

"ROSE: When I was a child, I wrote a novel." Well, never mind!

Well, okay, I guess that, even though John's perspective has just ended in what could have been the ending of Homestuck, I would very much like to learn more about Complacency of the Learned and its potential ramifications as to the rest of the plot! Guess now's the moment to find out why the story isn't ending just yet.

"She has both hands resting on the chassis of his recent project, Sawtooth 3.1." Soooo... Was Sawhoo supposed to be Sawtooth 2.0? :P I wonder what improvements Dirk could be implementing. Also, whether he ever intends to use the rapbot on his show. I get a feeling most of the robots there never leave novice mode, actually.

"DIRK: Another one of those Lalonde childhood wizard fics, I presume?" Yeah, now I'm reminded of Wizardy Herbert, Roxy's supposed work. I never did get through that draft of it Andrew wrote all those years prior, I got to admit.

I'm guessing Rose has found a way to connect her old fic to the grander context of canon, realizing some of the stuff she put into the story came from her aspect?

"With the sunset behind her she’s a shadow ringed in yellow light that turns white at the tips of her hair." Pfff, circumstantial simultaneity strikes again! That's just like how Reload Rose looked. Alternatively, she has a bit of a halo right now.

"ROSE: It’s more raw. It betrays considerably more sincerity than my young self was surely ever aware of stitching into the prose." Hah, guess Rose was not as good at hiding her own feelings as she tried back then, hiding behind that passive-aggressiveness.

I wonder if this is Andrew talking about how some of his early work, maybe even early Homestuck, was a lot closer to his heart than the epic story it grew into, despite said level of epicness.

"ROSE: It meant something." Maybe adult Rose's work was too polished, too betraying of her literacy and a bit removed from the essence of what she was trying to say. That could be due to its nature as anti-propaganda aimed against Condesce.

"DIRK: Hmm." There Dirk goes again, with the autoresponder-enabling short responses.

"ROSE: For all its plainly evident amateurism as the literary product of a child, I’ve come to believe it’s a much stronger work standing alone as a single volume, its meaning and symbolism potently compressed, and its message shining through more nakedly, undisguised by the cleverness of a more seasoned writer." Again, Andrew comparing Team Special Olympics and such things to his later work?

"The plot concerns the machinations of twelve wizard children." Oh, I thought it was focused on twelve adult wizards, including Zazzerpan?

"ROSE: It isn’t their intent to commit atrocities, or within their nature to do so originally. They become corrupted by an overabundance of knowledge. The kind never meant for the mortal mind to grasp." They went grimdark. :P Also, I suppose this leads into Rose's misgivings regarding the ultimate self.

"ROSE: It certainly wasn’t the most fucked up thing I’ve ever written." ... Oh right, the MEOW code. Yeah, that must take 1st place.

"as if I were pulling inspiration from beyond myself—channeling the story, rather than writing it." Almost as if she got it from the Void more even than her then-latent aspect!

"spiderwebs of gold that dissolve into dust" ... Really, sure, go ahead, keep rubbing salt into that wound. :P

"ROSE: You could almost call the process... [...] She’s smirking now, just a little." Brace for pun-pact!

"ROSE: ...enlightened." Eyyyyy!

DIRK: It also sounds like it’s the opposite of what was going on?" Dirk also thinks it sounds more like a Void thing?

"DIRK: Sounds more like you were trapped in a sort of dire creative fugue state causing you to chart your own mental profile using metaphor revolving around murderous, omniscient children." ... So that's where the locquacious genes came from. Also in-deep-analysis.

"ROSE: Well, consider the playful pun rescinded.

ROSE: Apologies for diminishing your presence with my suboptimal health and the toll it has taken on my wordplay.

DIRK: Thanks. It’s been very difficult for me.

ROSE: You’ve been a real trouper." These two, are the best.

"ROSE: Anyway, my point is that I’ve long suspected my story was a pre-manifestation of my Seer of Light powers. I was seeing beyond my universe into another." Yyyeah, but, the analogy with the trolls doesn't hold up after the first glance, and she (or her adult self) also incorporated things from other timelines and universes. The genderqueer Cal... I forgot what the full name was..., for instance.

Meanwhile, Dave has been well aware his subconcsiousness is influencing him, and he has been looking and found the "least psychologically revealing" SBaHJ comic, as a result.

"ROSE: My original thesis was that the children represented the twelve trolls who created our universe." Ooh, so she noticed it too. Guess she might now be thinking the twelve are representations of the B2 kids, Karkat, Kanaya, Calliope and... someone else?

"DIRK: Twelve. That’s how many players went through the door at the end of our game." Riiiight, Terezi went through as well!

"When she finds herself leaning against him—probably without thinking about it, Dirk imagines, because neither of them really “do” that—he doesn’t pull away. If it’s her, it’s all right." That just shows the difference in how he and Rose behave versus he and Dave, where the distance or proximity is always a tangible thing.

"DIRK: You describe this as a fact of numerological significance.

DIRK: Which makes it seem you suspect these correlations are something less than utterly providential. As if there is a part of you holding on to the belief that certain figures are coincidental. That their significance and repetition smacks of bullshit." Heheh, there are a LOT of repeating numbers in the story though, bullshit or not. Twelve is just one of them: 4 6 10 11 12 13 25 ... Seems like Dirk holds them in higher esteem than Rose, though. If he's sincere.

"It’s unclear exactly which things are smacking, just as it’s unclear that when it comes to bullshit, whether or not smacking accurately describes what is being done per se." This metaphor has gone off track again.

"DIRK: I’m just saying it’s all evidence of a grand design. An immortal, metatextual apparatus beyond our ken that we can only catch glimpses of when we’re proverbially shitting our brains out through our nose." They can almost see Andrew. :P In-canon, the closest to such a reveal were John and Jade, but they let the moment of epiphany pass them by as they started their 3-year-long journey. :P

"ROSE: They were filled with the light of knowledge and one by one they succumbed to it, turning insane or evil or, most often, both." Ah, right, like the guy that filled that tome with knowledge and was crushed by it, that Roxy named Jaspers after.

"ROSE: If this is the effect unchecked powers have on players living in a post-canon victory state, then why isn’t it affecting any of our other friends?" Let the theories about evil power-hungry Jane commence! Though, what other effects could we even see right now, not much. Plus, Kanaya, Karkat, Terezi and Calliope won't feel the effects of an ultimate self ascension, at least.

"DIRK: Well." Don't say "now you mention it", Dirk. Please.

"some of us have stopped using our powers completely." Oh, he thinks that it's not so much power that corrupts, but the continued use of it?

"emergency resurrections" But he also doesn't seem to think then that what Jane is planning reeks of her getting slowly corrupted, huh.

"sportsball riot" I wouldn't be surprised if sportsball is an actual thing on this planet, courtesy of Dave's influence in shaping society.

"ROSE: In that case...

Rose sways suddenly." Eesh, she's starting to get woozy.

"ROSE: Maybe I was a fool for imagining I could settle down here." :/ It would be shitty for Paradox Space to do this to the players for no good reason, though. Then again, Sburb.

"occasional banter about adoption with her wife" Ooh, cool. Well, yeah, it would stand to reason Maryams like to become mothers. :)

"ROSE: I assumed it was just that feigned Strider Stoicism, but you seem to be taking this...

DIRK: In stride?" Awww-yeah. Sorry Rose, you have nothing to top Strider Dad jokes.

DIRK: But I’ve got more practice at this than you do. I spent most of my life before the game multitasking my entire fucking subconscious. I’ve had several times my age on paper to contemplate these mysteries.

DIRK: Years of prying open can after can of worms filled with answers I don’t like.

DIRK: Cut yourself on the edge more than once and you stop getting surprised by all the blood.

ROSE: I see." So it's as if, due to Dirk already having such an extensive memory from juggling dream and awake selves, he's handling all the input better. Maybe, relatively speaking, it's less that's coming in for him, too. I mean, his dream selves mustn't have gone through many different things. Plus, maybe merging with Lil' Hal does something for you to be able to handle big data. :O

"ROSE: In fact, I don’t think it’s the expansion of my powers that is causing the headaches, but rather my own resistance to it.

ROSE: Sometimes I get this feeling that I could, if I really wanted to, just let go." I think Rose might prefer to keep to her current self, if she could. Like the narration said, she's basically still a solitary creature. The expansion of experiences is proving too jarring.

"ROSE: I’m forcing myself to stumble through my life as a sleepwalker. All this pain and sorrow could go away if I would just allow myself to wake up." Between this and "letting go", it seems like an ultimate self ascension is perhaps even going to go further than the psychologically, maybe even physically. If that's so, Dirk might be further ahead but not there yet. But once they'd ascend, there wouldn't be coming back from it, I would think, and they'd leave their old lives and Earth C behind, to go to another plane of existence, maybe?

"ROSE: Because I’m not sure that the person opening her eyes will be me." ... Now I'm thinking about how the last command aimed at John was for him to close his eyes. :/ Could that mean he's about to go through a sped-up ascension?

Rose has the unfortunate occasion to compare her ascension to Jasprosesprite^2, so I very much understand she has very grave misgivings about "expanding her mental horizons", so to speak.

"Then, in a deliberate motion, he pulls off his shades." ... Say, would his eyes have changed if he merged with Lil' Hal, even just psychologically? I know the autoresponder was a pair of shades without eyes, but the Hal monitor had that red buzzing light which represented his eyeballs on at least one occasion.

"DIRK: I know I sound pretty nonchalant most of the time, but actually I’m scared shitless of myself.

DIRK: I’ve always had this uncanny ability to chart a course from A to Z and not give a fuck about any of the letters in between.

DIRK: I’m not sure anyone should be allowed to have that much foresight. Especially a guy like me." Well, that's a healthy self-assessment and fear. Though, foresight? It would be more akin to intuition, right, knowing how people responded in different situations? ... Which sounds like Mind powers, actually, come to think of it.

"ROSE: The farther above the board you fly, the harder it gets to care about the pieces." Is that part of the reason Terezi left, if she forced an ultimate self ascension on her with her Remem8er act?

"DIRK: And yes, I may be a shitty human being, but,

DIRK: As a mechanic, I’m off the fucking charts." Well, that certainly are points to Dirk being at least marginally better as an adult than Bro, if only out of self-awareness. Speaking of, does he have access to Bro's memories now, too? Also, the mechanic part is leading into the Soulbot I theorized about? Wait, mechanic... Dirk and Darkleer should have a build-off.

"Rose’s eyes have grown distant, almost mirrorlike. Dirk can see himself reflected in her vacant stare.

ROSE: All the pieces in their place.

ROSE: The mechanisms all running smoothly." Has Dirk... hypnotized her?

"She says this in a hollow tone. It’s the disarming voice a puppeteer ventriloquizes for a marionette. Her head falls toward her shoulder slowly. Dirk catches her cheek as she slides into sleep. It’s difficult for the untrained ear to spot the exact moment in their conversation when the words she was saying stopped being hers and started being his." ... What did I just watch. ... How. Why? ... Did Dirk use any Heart powers here? I can't...

"Does it really matter? In many respects, they’re basically the same person, aren’t they?" Kind of creepy to say that about your hypnotized daughter, though.

"Kindred spirits in blood and perspective, the puppet masters of the respective games they like to believe they’re playing." ... Puppets. Puppets and games. ... This is building up into a Saw reference and I don't like it one bit. "I want to play a game." ... I do hope Dirk's ascension hasn't seen him get influenced by Lord English.

... You know, though, maybe Dirk was able to influence Rose because of their strong connection, since she's so close to his self she's almost like another shard of him, more so than other people that contain shards of his essence, like Brain Ghost Dirk for Jake.

"But you already knew that, right?" Aaaaaaah, he took over the narration! ... He took over Andrew??? Is that a power for ultimate selves, to get access to the narrative prompt?? If so, then Caliborn was not an exception, just the primary example.

... He's pulled a Doc Scratch on us.

Dear god.

What to make of this. I think Dirk might be the hidden antagonist of Earth C. His Heart powers might be able to influence and even control people.

I just hope he isn't going to absorb them all.

... Man, this started baring on innocuous and look at how chilling the ending of the page is.

I think through his influence, people might start behaving exactly as he predicted, enforcing him being right and securing influence at the same time. I mean, if he merged with memories from Lil Hal, Doc Scratch and perhaps even LE... He's become a master manipulator.

... This is basically "shh, only dreams now" D:

#homestuck #upd8 #homestuck epilogues #homestuck liveblog #dirk strider #rose lalonde #spoiler alert #reaction

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blaperile · 5 years

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Homestuck Epilogues - Meat - Page 7

#Homestuck #The Homestuck Epilogues #Meat #reaction #Dirk #Rose #Seer #Hero of Heart #Seer of Heart

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taz-writes · 6 years

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10 Questions Tag Game

@micastarsandmirrors tagged me on my main blog for this, but I’m posting it here because it seemed more appropriate. :>

1. Which author(s) inspires you the most?

Oof, hard question! Recently I’ve been really inspired by Terry Pratchett’s Discworld series--I love how he deconstructs fantasy as a genre. Guards! Guards! is one of the best books I’ve read in a very long time.

2. Someone from a different world asks you, “Show me the song of your people” which earth song would you play for them?

Madeon’s Pop Culture. It’s such a genius reimagining of SO many other songs, and it encapsulates modern pop musical culture in a way that’s really fantastic. I love it. It’s not actually my favorite song, but as an example to an alien of what Earth music is, it’s a pretty good case study.

3. How did you get the idea for your current WIP?

Feilan is drawn from the mythology of a recess game I used to play with my friends in elementary school. My friends and I would team up and LARP as our super cool powerful fairy avatars and fight the annoying boys from the classroom next door evil! As we grew up, the lore of Fairyland grew darker and more complicated, and I borrowed bits and pieces of dozens of other stories to glue them to my self insert and my friends’. We grew out of the game, but the paracosm we’d created stuck with me. Around sixth grade, I started putting those old recess games into writing!

4. Which of your characters is a lover not a fighter and which is a fighter not a lover?

Honestly, most of my characters are both! Feilan is an action story and the majority of the cast is prepared to throw down at any time. I think Lavender is the lover-not-a-fighter. She’s a healer, after all, and she prefers to avoid conflict. The fighter is definitely Amalie.

5. Do you listen to music while you write? If so, what do you listen to?

Sometimes! It depends on my mood, and what kind of scene I’m trying to write. Usually, I prefer instrumental music. I have a class at school where the homework is just listening to a few hours of classical music, so I’ll do that a lot while I write. Otherwise... video game music is the way to go. Undertale has a freaking amazing soundtrack. Also, I’m still quite fond of the Homestuck music albums.... They have a lot of great songs for setting a mood.

6. What’s the best way to piss off your main OC?

Tell her she’s not good enough to be worthy of something. Bonus points if you imply her opinions don’t matter, or bring up her birth status. That’ll get her riled up in half a second flat.

7. What inspired you to write your current WIP(S)?

Oh boy here we go, here’s the novel. Feilan’s backstory is long and very emotional.

When I was growing up, I could never find stories to read that actually gave me what I wanted. I was raised on that early-2000s strand of Girl Power(tm) that was really obsessed with characters who are girls fighting the patriarchy and everyone cares that they’re girls because there’s clearly nothing more important about their characters........ Either that or they were just straight up annoying. I adored Winx Club but every time the girls went shopping another piece of me died. I had a well-established Not Like Other Girls complex but at the same time reading characters who thought like that was really annoying? There were a lot of things I hated in the stories I read growing up: inescapable love interests, tiny sparkly boring fairies, the anti-sue genre of Plain Modest Protagonists who aren’t allowed to be powerful or even aware that they could be, female characters who can’t do anything without reminding us that they’re girls and girls can’t normally do this but I can and look how special that is!!, the inevitable Girl Media Shopping Montage... et cetera.

I didn’t want that. I wanted Lord of the Rings, but with girls, and maybe a cute boy!Galadriel. I wanted a story where girls being heroes wasn’t a big deal, or even worth questioning. I couldn’t find those things, so I decided I’d make my own, drawn out of my shameless childhood power fantasies. Feilan is an aggressive defiance of pretty much all the tropes in the last paragraph. I’ve stuck to it so doggedly because even now, I still have trouble finding stories with the kinds of characters I want to read about. I’ve always been super invested in stories about characters who are Like Me, who are girls with feminine and masculine interests, who have ADHD but are still smart anyways, who are short and built strong instead of slender. I used to refuse to watch cartoons unless there was at least one blonde girl that I could latch onto who wasn’t a stereotype Popular Girl. More recently, I want to see characters who are bi like me, where nobody makes a big deal out of it. I don’t even like romance stories, I don’t understand why it has to matter if X likes girls and boys! Just let her do that and get her girlfriend and get back to saving the world! And I fucking hate stories that pretend to be progressive by driving in over and over again how X character is a girl, X character is so gay--the ultimate result is just reminding me that I’m weird somehow. By... being a person, I guess. I hate those narratives so much but especially in mainstream YA, they’re practically inevitable?

So I wanted to write Feilan so I could have the story I wanted to read but never found, about characters who are like me and dealing with my problems and my strengths and my fears. And I’ve kept writing it because I still want that, and I want Feilan to be that story for other people too, because I don’t think I’m alone here. It’s also a major outlet for my emotions.

This is a long answer, but I think it’s pretty clear why. :)

8. What is the last book/series you finished reading?

The last book I read was an English translation of Ghost Opera by Mercedes Roffe, which I read for a class I’m taking right now in the art of translation. It’s very far away from my usual fantasy genre, but I really enjoyed it! If you like neat artsy poetry, give it a look sometime, especially if you speak Spanish and can experience it in the original language.

9. What finally made you say, “Wow! I really like writing, I’m gonna keep doing this”?

When I was in fourth grade I won a local writing contest with a cute little poem about nature, and I got to go to a book fair event and read it out loud in a fancy auditorium, and I was SO UNBELIEVABLY STOKED. My mom was really proud of me, too. A couple people complimented the poem to me afterwards and it made my year. I decided that I wanted to win again the next year, and started taking poetry more seriously.

10. What’s your favorite thing about writing?

Rereading my work. It’s so incredible to me sometimes, because I can and will cry over events in my own story, and I get so happy reading over the triumphs of my own OCs that I wrote out with my own hands and there’s something so beautiful and powerful about seeing these ideas that I created in my brain grow wings and fly. I cried a lot, when I printed out the first draft of Feilan’s book 1 and held it in my hands. That’s mine! I did that! I did all of that, and now I can hold it and see it and show people!

I’m now tagging @pumapauus @greenhousewriting @jaidynwrites @hklunethewriter and anyone else who’s interested to answer these 10 questions, then write your own and pass it on! Feel free to ignore if you don’t have the time :) Anyone else who sees this and is interested, you’re welcome to answer too and say I tagged you!

1. What does your workspace look like? Do you have a designated ‘writing area’?

2. Do you prefer to write solo heroes or ensemble casts?

3. Which of your characters reminds you the most of yourself?

4. What’s one trait your main OC has that you wish you had, too?

5. Have you changed or removed any major elements of your current WIP since its original draft/concept? What was the biggest change, and why did you make it?

6. If you had to give your main WIP a theme song, what would it be?

7. What’s your favorite non-writing-related hobby?

8. What are some of your favorite books?

9. What’s your favorite trope to read and/or write? What’s your least favorite?

10. What do you love most about your own work and why?

#taz talks #tag game #i got reasonably emotional over some of these answers lol

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