#source: subjuggulation

[sasster]

Puzzling

We’re really earning that title of Timeline Jumper now, folks.

Can I interest you in another blast from the past?

—

Trolls are not known for giving too much attention to their dead, short of dispatching them so thoroughly that they do not return as the shambling members of a daywalking horde, their fates aren’t really worried after. A corpse is burnt or sent to the ditches, never to be considered again. That’s just how it is. Clowns are much the same, if not worse, a crushed skull keeps the daywalkers away and someone else will be by to clean up the mess. Maybe. Or some wild animal will pick it apart. Or the sun would come along and swelter it so thoroughly, baking the rot into it in such a way that no one will want to touch it. Who cares?

All of this to say that it came as quite a shock when the three leaders of this particular subjuggulator sect set aside some actual space in an unused cellar for one of their followers to tend to their dead. Somehow this strange man convinced them that this would be a service to the Messiahs. Why would we leave our sisters and our brothers to fester as a prize for their glory? What sort of legacy does that leave behind? And it worked. From then on fallen subjuggulators would be dragged back to that strange man in his strange den and arrangements would be made for them.

Perhaps this ability to get the crowd on his side is what drew Harlan to him in the first place. The visits started infrequently enough, just a little something to satisfy an itch of curiosity, but steadily they grew into a routine as his fascination with the man started to rise.

Harlan sits with his hands folded into his lap, watching the peculiar mortician flit about, with grace, the fresh wave of bodies that’d been brought down to him. The careless way with which the average troll tends to handle the dead means that many of them were worse for wear, their appearances left a lot to be desired, by the time they made it down to him. But his magic of prepping the dead never seemed to wane, he always got it done. Today the wave included only three fresh corpses; This one needed a portion running up their side stitched shut, that one had a trocar needle and tubing placed beside him for cavity filling, and the last was made ready for embalming fluid to be sent through their veins.

The smell of formaldehyde hangs heavy in the air. It used to be that the chemical smell of the morgue clung to his senses and made it difficult to sit still and enjoy the process, but as his visits became more frequent so too did his tolerance for the sting in his eyes and the muddling of his sense of smell start to rise.

His gaze falls on the hands of the mortician, as it often does, as he returns to the cadaver in dire need of stitches, learned hands navigating around the bulk of the black nitrile gloves that encase them with ease to weave a fine thread through the infinitesimal eye of a needle on the first try. 

Silence always suited the pair and as such, sometimes these sessions would pass in their entirety with barely a word passed between them. Harlan appreciated having a place away from the rowdy going-ons of the church above them and especially from the odd friends Orfuse has a tendency of bringing around his hive, so he rarely finds himself being the one to break that silence.

Rarely does not mean never, however.

“How is a cadaver any different?” He asks when the needle pierces the skin with a squelch that must be more audible to the mortician situated just above the source.

Thanat does not look up from his work, one deft hand pinching the offending wound while the other goes through the motions of suturing it shut. “Different from what, Harls?”

His own idle hands tingle as the neat row of stitches are neatly closed off and tied shut.

“From touching people, how do they differ?”

The mortician shrugs, dropping the needle into a tray of discarded instruments and moves on to the trocar needle that awaited him. “Well, to start, I am still wearing gloves.” He holds one of his hands up for emphasis and wiggles his fingers. Harlan exhales a humored breath and rolls his eyes. They both know what he meant.

He pierces the abdomen with the trocar, and surely being so near the contents of a stomach cavity would be a germaphobe’s nightmare, but he does not flinch. He instead goes about inserting the tubing necessary for draining. Harlan has seen him do it a handful of times, so he is not surprised, only ever fascinated with the mortician.

“I think there is something cleansing about death,” he explains, in the middle of trading the sullied gloves for a pair of new ones. “It is different because they are cleansed, I guess.”

Harlan moves to cross one leg over the other, bringing a hand up to rest his chin upon. He lets out a thoughtful hum. “What a strange mind you have, Thanat Lycaon.”

“No more puzzling than yours, Harlan Mahkir,” he says with just the faintest of smiles. “Besides, there are not many trolls tending to the dead around here. Someone has to do it.”

“Unless you count Lenore, of course.”

“Carrion birds provide a different form of tending, I’m afraid.”

Harlan only hums again, still humored, distracted anew by the mortician handling his instruments and cadavers when he takes up moving about again.

[incorrect-saiyuki-quotes]

Tenjin: If you don’t have actual wings to escape Shangri-La with your son, home-made is fine

Genjo: No It Isn’t

Ukoku: it is if your son isn’t an idiot

[bastsoldtrollblog]

Darric forgot sometimes, or perhaps never realized, how easy it was for him to move unnoticed.

Carnivals were crawling with bloodthirsty trolls with powerful mind-altering abilities, but for him it was a breeze to slip in. His keen hearing could pick up the slightest breath, footstep, or even a heartbeat. Even the best assassin couldn’t move quietly enough for him not to hear- Especially when he eking on paranoia as it was.

He knew, too, that their abilities didn’t work on him. Four times, different purplebloods had tried to use their voodoos on him to no avail- That was proof enough, wasn’t it?

Darric was following a scent, he could remember it clearly, and within the carnival now he could smell it again. All that was left was to hunt the source down without following the trail, per se- He couldn’t trace this troll step by step and not get caught, so he’d just have to play hot-and-cold with the scent until he spotted the bastard.

This was ultimately a bad idea. It was entirely self-gratifying, he could be seriously fucking Sibbyl over for all he knew. It just made him feel sick to think that it might be domestic abuse- The fight had to have been one-sided. He didn’t smell blood on Sibbyl except for the slight amount of his own from his bleeding mouth, and he didn’t smell someone else’s skin oil on his knuckles.

But whatever. He had no love of clowns and he had to eat anyway. He wouldn’t even pretend to act like this was completely for Sibbyl.

Voices carried along the wind with the pungent scent of cigarette smoke, and if Darric hadn’t recognized one, he wouldn’t have stopped. He paused in the undergrowth; One of them was that purpleblood Sibbyl had been with before. At least he wasn’t the one to hit Sibbyl.

“...Noodle fucked Seesaw up bad.”

“Good. Fuck that guy.” That was the voice Darric recognized, the purpleblood with centipede tattoos.

“I dunno, both of them are unnerving.” Said the first troll, someone Darric didn’t recognize.

“Says the guy who’s two-in-one with his twin.” Replied the centipede troll, and Darric heard him exhale the smoke from his cigarette. He gave a tiny snort of laughter under his breath.

It was a sort of trollianizing window into the lives of two strangers, two subjuggulators that he’d hardly have considered to have issues that would be relatable to him.

The two were quiet for a minute and Darric carried on, pinpointing his target at the edge of the woods. The smoke from his cigarette might’ve masked his scent if Darric weren’t searching for him and him alone.

He straightened and stepped out of the trees, trotting openly towards the purpleblood with his hands tucked into his hoodie pocket. There was no one around, not for some fifty yards and then some- The closest were the two he’d just been eavesdropping on. And there was no doubt that this was the bastard who blacked Sibbyl’s eye and chased him out into broad sunlight.

Darric’s shoe scuffed in the dirt and the purpleblood turned his head.

“Who’re you?” The purpleblood asked, his tone gruff.

Darric tilted his head slightly. He kind of wanted to talk to this guy but he didn’t know what to say.

“The rustblood who’s going to kill you.” He said, and internally cringed because he couldn’t have been edgier. The purpleblood laughed, turning towards Darric. He was a huge bastard, and that was saying something for a purpleblood. He was damn near twice Darric’s height. He flicked his cigarette away, grinning. Darric watched him carefully; He moved a bit sluggishly, like he were sore.

“Yeah...Laugh all you want, big guy.” Darric continued, beginning to walk towards the purpleblood again. The purpleblood uncaptchalogued his weapon, a massive warhammer, and swung it at Darric’s head.

Darric caught the handle of the warhammer one-handed, stopping it dead while looking the purpleblood in the eye. His foe’s eyes widened in surprise, a hint of fear, maybe. Darric lashed out towards the purpleblood’s gut with his claws, twisting the weapon out of the troll’s grip.

His claws went deep, and blood splattered across his face. Darric’s pupils dilated, his eyes flashed burning red, and his mouth split open at his jaw. The purpleblood staggered back, only just realizing he’d been injured by an unarmed lowblood, but Darric was leaping to attack him again.

He jumped straight up onto the purpleblood’s shoulders, his claws digging into the troll’s skull. Darric let out a faint hiss as he parted his jaws, the purpleblood attempted to rip him off but he wasn’t nearly fast enough.

Darric ripped open the purpleblood’s throat and face with one bite. The troll staggered and crumpled; Darric easily caught himself and resumed tearing into the corpse.

He came back to himself as he gnawed the last bits of flesh from the bones. He could leave these now if he wanted, but he opted to eat every last scrap. All that was left was a troll’s worth of blood on the forest floor.

Darric heard some voices, faint and indistinct, carry through the trees, and he turned and bolted.

He couldn’t lie; That fight was exhilarating. To match a purpleblood’s strength one to one. To kill a troll twice his size with his natural strength a hundred fold without a scratch. Not to mention, eating his corpse. He could still taste his flesh and blood in his mouth. The salty, raw taste of troll flesh, the strong iron of blood on his teeth. Delicious, to him; He could never get enough of it.

That was what he hated most, really.

That he liked being a monster.

[cheloneuniverse]

Jane Crocker (Slytherin)

Heiress to a global baking empire (traditionalism)

Has a brutal streak and was quick to jump to forced marriage, slavery and death when her inhibitions were turned off via mind-control.

Wants to get her gnarled claws into this company and has plans for when she ascends the baker throne (ambition)

John “June” Egbert (Hufflepuff)

John Egbert: i'm not your leader, i am your FRIEND. (values friends and loyalty)

Doesn’t really care about machismo or acting tough.

Loyal and persistent.

More intelligent and inquisitive than people give credit for which is more Ravenclaw and very adventurous which is more Gryffindor but I think Hufflepuff is the right house for them.

Beater on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team.

Jake English (Gryffindor)

Prides himself on tenacity and gumption (values bravery)

Values adventure and heroics.

Jade Harley (Ravenclaw)

Her interests are science, learning and exploration. Really good analysis via zenosanalytic.

Aspires to the helpfulness and cheerfulness of Hufflepuff but can get very annoyed with people and it’s not really a true representation of her personality.

Roxy Lalonde (Hufflepuff)

Values her friends, loyalty and persistence.

Highly intelligent but doesn’t seem to value knowledge for knowledges sake so not a Ravenclaw.

Dirk Strider (Slytherin)

There’s dignity in taking up the work of our familial predecessors, even if what they did was insanely fucking stupid (traditionalism)

Decided he was going to puppeteer their entire session behind the scenes, tries to make everything a part of a grander plan in motion (ambition & cunning)

Values control over everything and it interferes with all his relationships, his fuel for knowledge and cleverness is this need to have control over his life.

Rose Lalonde (Slytherin)

Ambitious kid who values winning

Smart and curious, but more interested in getting information FOR something rather than just collecting it for sheer love of knowledge.

Fiercely loyal to those she cares about but very guarded and slow to bond with others.

Will take power and information when offered even from shady sources such as the Horroterrors and Doc Scratch.

Dave Strider (Hufflepuff)

Living with Bro has made him hate the very idea of heroism so I doubt he would be a Gryffindor.

Values loyalty and his friends, using them as a support system and highly extroverted.

Highly witty and intelligent and with his association with birds I could also see him as a Ravenclaw 

Meenah Peixes (Slytherin)

Ambitious and loves to win.

Feferi Peixes (Hufflepuff)

Values community, loyalty and persistence.

Cronus Ampora (Slytherin)

Doesn’t seem to see other people as people and he’s not the slightest bit pro-social so he’s not a Gryffindor of Hufflepuff.

Not particularly interested in learning or knowledge.

He has shown a level of self preservation for Slytherin with his interactions with Meenah and he believes in his own inherent superiority as a violet blood so I’d say that counts as traditionalism.

Eridan Ampora (Slytherin)

Emulates his ancestor (traditionalism), values ambition and winning.

Kurloz Makara (Slytherin)

Subjuggulator cult (traditionalism), manipulative and cunning (controlling people)

Gamzee Makara (Slytherin)

Subjuggulator cult (traditionalism), values continuing traditions

Horuss Zahaak ??? Slytherin or Ravenclaw?

Equius Zahaak ??? Slytherin or Ravenclaw?

Values the hemospectrum and is very particular about rules and acting in a proper way (traditionalism)

Aranea Serket (Ravenclaw)

Values logic, reason and knowledge. Still surprisingly evil for a Ravenclaw.

Vriska Serket (Slytherin)

Emulates her ancestor (traditionalism)

Thinks she’s cunning and ambitious

Fits her narrative

Slytherin Beater on Quidditch team.

Latula Pyrope (Gryffindor)

Values justice and bravery.

Terezi Pyrope (Gryffindor)

While a schemer she isn’t motivated by ambition, what she values is JUST1C3 and bravery.

Would never turn down the chance to be in the Cherry Red house.

Gryffindor Beater on Quidditch team.

Porrim Maryam (Hufflepuff)

Values community, loyalty and persistence.

Kanaya Maryam (Ravenclaw)

Values logic, knowledge and reason

Meulin Leijon ???

Nepeta Leijon (Gryffindor)

Values adventure, justice and bravery.

Would never turn down the chance to be in the cat house.

Mituna Captor ???

Sollux Captor (Ravenclaw)

Values logic, reason and knowledge. Very pro-social but too introverted for Hufflepuff. Not ambitious enough for Slytherin and doesn’t care about bravery, justice or adventures.

Rufioh Nitram ???

Tavros Nitram (Hufflepuff)

Values persistence and loyalty.

Damara Megido ???

Aradia Megido (Ravenclaw)

Values knowledge, history and learning.

Kankri Vantas ????

Karkat Vantas ????

Brave as fuck, loyal to the bone, ambitious as fuck, verbose enough for Ravenclaw?