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Entry tags:
Monthly Word Count - October
TOTAL: 25 282 words.
Not too bad! especially since for over half the month i was dicking around and being all blah unwriting.
POSTED
-Various John/Karkat(/?) AU Ficlets (John/Dave/Karkat college AU)(2 983 words)
-Ardent: One Week In (Karkat/Dave, Kankri (3 582 words) (welp didn't post it on lj/DW? here's the AO3 link then .__.)
-Ardent: Press and Release (Pacific Rim DaveKat AU) (3 525 words)
-Midnight on the Demon Patrol chapter 18 (6 734 words)
-Ardent: Feferi on the topic of Nepeta/Equius (422 words) (I'll be posting it with the teasers cause it's nowhere but on tumblr atm)
-Coffeshop Wages Slave AU, Terezi/Dave/Gamzee Ashen Comedy pt. 1 (1 487 words)
WORKS IN PROGRESS
-Midnight on the Demon Patrol chapter 19 (6 028 words)
-Covalent - outsider POV - Karkat's neighbor pesterlog silliness (176 words)
-Coffeshop Wages Slave AU, Terezi/Dave/Gamzee Ashen Comedy pt. 2 (337 words)
--
Ardent: Feferi
--
It's funny, in their little Jaegerland culture if they knew what Feferi does they would regard her as one willfully blind to her own cuckolding, too weak to even be angry, too much of a doormat to protest her most sacred bond being encroached upon.
They know jack shit with a side of fuckall, as Karkat would say, and as Nepeta was tickled into hilarity about until Feferi herself fell in love with the phrase. Jack shit with a side of fuckall, and an order of fuckfries with that!
She chuckles to herself as she closes the door and leans her weight on it, humming, eyes bright, because she can already taste Nepeta's delight in the quiet, rooted peace Equius infuses all through her, she already knows what she will see the next time they bridge, her copilot and her. Equius like a ghost third between them, the floating care and wariness of one used to a world too frail to contain him, one used to plan and measure twice before he pounces.
She thinks she'd like trying a three-way drift, just once, instead of the two of them chasing echoes of each other through Nepeta -- but not in battle, no. He's too much of a pacifist to revel in their easy carnage.
He likes waiting for them, this man Feferi only knows by proxy, and fixing Abyss Malkin's battle wounds and sending them off to war again. And he always says he doesn't like it but he always always always takes Feferi's helmet when Nepeta picks it up where Feferi on-purpose forgot it on the bench and hands it to him and says they need to check if the Pons system still works properly.
(It always does.)
A coterie of pilots and techs walks by on their way from the command center, Meenah in the middle, and they eye her weird for leaning so hard on the locker room door and Meenah sigh-smiles like sympathy. Feferi grins back, with all her teeth, and knows Nepeta would move in for the kill right alongside her, and what is Equius taking from her again?
If she fought with Meenah they might push the poor guy in her cockpit as replacement when she gets benched, and what a disaster his pondering measures and inhibitions would be against a kaiju. She waggles her eyebrows at her clone, her twin, her perfect abhorrent match, and she laughs alone against the door at the joke everyone thinks is on her and none of them really gets.
--
Midnight on the Demon Patrol chapter 19
--
The first thing Karkat does when they finally come home is to rush up the ladder and check on his nest. Dave's shoulder is still bandaged, and once again he's right back to sleeping on the couch. He's starting to think the universe wants him to cede the space to his demon, but damn it, he is not giving up his futon under the slanting ceiling and the odd light that comes from the window.
"Marshmallows still good?" he calls up to Karkat, even as he flops down on the couch under the mezzanine.
"Uh -- lemme open the bag." A pause. "Yeah, they're still edible, though I was more concerned about rats or those motherfucking crows."
Dave snorts quietly. He can't say he was honestly worried about the marshmallows, those things last years. Okay, at least half a year. He's pretty sure he read things about that before. And the crow vendetta keeps being silly and hilarious. "We don't have rats!" he calls up.
"Uh huh," Karkat replies, muffled and distracted, as he rummages into a plastic bag. "You keep thinking that."
"We have rats? Seriously? Hell."
He reclines against the back of the couch, eyes closed. He's watched too much TV at the hospital, turning it on sounds even worse than doing nothing.
Since he's doing nothing, hey.
He gets the candle and the matches, sets them on the coffee table before him. A little flame -- there.
Aradia. Aradia, Aradia, Aradia, spring after winter when it's getting nice and warm and you almost don't notice the bite of frost still lurking in every shadow, and time keeps turning and soon winter will come again, but...
So will spring! Hey, Dave, been a while. I was starting to think you'd stopped liking me!
His lips crook into a tiny smile. His eyes stay closed. Preposterous. I'd even say unpossible. It was just that slight case of Damara-induced brush with mortality...
Pff, you brush against mortality every day, you guys are all in each other's grill, it's pretty cuddly as relationships go.
A snort. Thanks for the reminder, Aradia. Where would I be without it, thinking I was immortal and shit.
Probably dead!
"... Yeeeeah, that was the implication there."
"Who are you talking to?" Karkat asks, peering over the edge of the mezzanine.
"Aradia. Wanna say hi?"
"No. Pay her more, so you get to have her around instead of Damara next time."
Aradia giggles in his head. Or maybe cackles, but in a pretty cute way. It almost doesn't sound vaguely evil! (It's evil in a fun way, at least, instead of a vicious, hateful way, so hey, he'll take what he can get.) I like the way he thinks. Oh, I know a surefire way for you to outbid that other summoner! Actually, pretty much the only way, considering your respective resources.
Dave wonders what that other summoner pays for her services. Maybe they're the type who has enough concentration and hours to waste on meditation. "Yeah? What is it?"
He gets the feeling of a cheerful, hopeful grin. Can I have a dead Dave?
... Huh.
Huh.
I'm not asking for Dave Prime's death! Just a branching Dave. It'd still be you enough to be pretty powerful.
"Huh."
Also I've been wondering how you'd taste for a while now, and you're going to live so long!
"Sixty-six years is not that long, actually. I mean, it's average I guess..." He'd still be old and slow and probably in pain and unable to kick much ass, so. He doesn't regret it too horribly. Better a few painful, boring years shaved off the end of his life than that building destroying the street, his coworkers crushed underneath.
Does creating an alternate Dave in order to kill him count as murder or suicide? Self-sacrifice, maybe -- considering he'd be him, he'd know why it was necessary... But wouldn't it be hard, to be the alternate instead? Could he -- either of them -- do it in cold blood?
But wouldn't it be necessary? How much easier would the fight against Kurloz have gone with Aradia with him, willing and eager to fight, maybe even eager to collaborate with Kankri's thing, instead of Damara?
"Do you know what Kankri did? I mean, what he can do? With his -- like -- using demons to..." He doesn't know how to word it. He waves his hand vaguely. Karkat is still peering at him, chewing on marshmallows. "I could act as a Knight of Time. I don't think it really hurt Latula or Damara -- would you be okay with that?"
Huh. Yeah, I heard a bit about Blood things. Sounds potentially fun, but I don't know how much I'd like being tangled up in you when you're in danger like that. ... I'd probably do it for a dead Dave though! she says with a mental eyebrow wriggle.
Dave sighs. "I'm not saying no straight off the bat, hon, but I don't even know how I managed the dead Dave the first time, so you'd have to explain--"
Karkat snarls. "No she fucking won't!"
He throws the marshmallow bag on the floor -- huh -- swings himself over the railing, lands hard on the table, which creaks but somehow doesn't break. (His claws leave gouges in the wood.) And then he's in Dave's space, bristled all over, eyes glowing, pouncing to plant his hands on the cushions around his head.
Dave's head bounces with the impact.
"You are not allowed to fucking die," Karkat snarls, his bristly bangs tickling Dave's eyelids, "no you is allowed to die, you can't ever fucking do that again, do you hear me? Zero yous, none of the yous, you are staying the fuck alive and if that means we end up with a dozen bleached turds in shades in this apartment then good!"
He looks... Furious, yes. Dave is pretty sure they have achieved Spittle.
Also panicked, underneath.
"Is this where I make the Dave Strider harem joke," Dave says, dumbly, because he's a dumbass.
--
Covalent - outsider POV - Karkat's neighbor pesterlog silliness
--
-- blitheSpy [BS] started trolling saffronBisque [SB] --
BS: harias harias harias
BS: hi hell>o< hi
BS: y>o<u'll never guess what!!!
SB: Hi hoN.
BS: >o<mg harigrub
BS: sweetie
BS: magg>o<cutie
BS: GUESS.
SB: PfffF.
SB: Okay. three trieS?
SB: You got your (()) delivereD.
BS: WR>O<NG WR>O<NG WR>O<>O<>O<>O<NG!
BS: remember my neighb>o<r?
SB: You have twenty of theM.
SB: Where's the rest of my guesseS?
BS: N>O< TIME F>O<R Y>O<UR WR>O<NGNESS.
BS: but >o<kay y>o<u can guess which neighb>o<r i mean
SB: Three questionS.
BS: kay <3<3<3
SB: Live lusus or dead lusuS.
BS: dead!!
SB: Vulpecula chicK? WhatshernameE. MililI?
BS: n>o<pe
SB: Pap or slaP.
BS: pap!!
SB: AzrutH.
BS: WR>O<NG.
SB: Cancer or perseuS.
SB: HoN?
BS: wh>o<>o<ps s>o<rry i had t>o< keep an eye >o<n DEVEL>O<PMENTS.
BS: bluh yeah >o<k cancer
SB: Your other cancer neighbor still has her lusus righT?
SB: Also she lives way far and out of line of sighT.
SB: Three questions. wiN.
BS: pffffff n>o< >o<ne was still thinking ab>o<ut that game
BS: HE HAS PE>O<PLE >O<VER.
--
Coffeshop Wages Slave AU, Terezi/Dave/Gamzee Ashen Comedy pt. 2
--
"Hi!" the slaughterlawyer says, all teeth out, when he walks up to their booth.
This isn't the kind of establishment where the baristas wait on the patrons. Apparently she went through the bar, but her hell clown hate-boyfriend didn't, considering the menu Lexi pushed into his hands before shoving him out into the main room and the empty table before him.
Dave has spent the last two days working himself into exhaustion. Last night -- day, fuck trolls, they're too weird -- he dreamed of Rose in a dentist uniform strapping him down and going to town on his back molars while asking him questions he couldn't answer, his mouth being full of death implements. Questions such as "And how long have you had this death wish, Mister Strider, hmm?" He's just... he's not sure if he's back to more normal levels of couldn't care less or if it's the exhaustion talking, but his eyelid barely twitches behind his shades.
They're still not a waiting on patrons kind of establishment. He doesn't care the asshole is decked in some shade of purple-blue.
"What'll it be?" he asks, bland-faced, holding his pad ready.
"Not even up and saying hi, motherfucker?"
... Fff. Not worth it. "Hi," he deadpans. "What'll it be."
The dude's eyebrow goes all quirked behind the paint but the stupid coat of gloopy tackiness makes it hard to read accurately. Not murderous yet, so who cares. "What you got?"
"Everything listed on this menu," Dave points out in his best smooth, bland voice, pointing at the menu he left on the table with his pencil. He doesn't make a quip about illiteracy and-or blindness, he isn't sure how.
Judge Dredd doesn't make a single quip about this, which has Dave stealing her a glance, but her lips are pursed in an oddly quizzical way and she's not-quite-staring at him and has proved to possess an uncanny ability to notice when he stares back, so he stares at the wall instead as he waits.
Not too bad! especially since for over half the month i was dicking around and being all blah unwriting.
POSTED
-Various John/Karkat(/?) AU Ficlets (John/Dave/Karkat college AU)(2 983 words)
-Ardent: One Week In (Karkat/Dave, Kankri (3 582 words) (welp didn't post it on lj/DW? here's the AO3 link then .__.)
-Ardent: Press and Release (Pacific Rim DaveKat AU) (3 525 words)
-Midnight on the Demon Patrol chapter 18 (6 734 words)
-Ardent: Feferi on the topic of Nepeta/Equius (422 words) (I'll be posting it with the teasers cause it's nowhere but on tumblr atm)
-Coffeshop Wages Slave AU, Terezi/Dave/Gamzee Ashen Comedy pt. 1 (1 487 words)
WORKS IN PROGRESS
-Midnight on the Demon Patrol chapter 19 (6 028 words)
-Covalent - outsider POV - Karkat's neighbor pesterlog silliness (176 words)
-Coffeshop Wages Slave AU, Terezi/Dave/Gamzee Ashen Comedy pt. 2 (337 words)
--
Ardent: Feferi
--
It's funny, in their little Jaegerland culture if they knew what Feferi does they would regard her as one willfully blind to her own cuckolding, too weak to even be angry, too much of a doormat to protest her most sacred bond being encroached upon.
They know jack shit with a side of fuckall, as Karkat would say, and as Nepeta was tickled into hilarity about until Feferi herself fell in love with the phrase. Jack shit with a side of fuckall, and an order of fuckfries with that!
She chuckles to herself as she closes the door and leans her weight on it, humming, eyes bright, because she can already taste Nepeta's delight in the quiet, rooted peace Equius infuses all through her, she already knows what she will see the next time they bridge, her copilot and her. Equius like a ghost third between them, the floating care and wariness of one used to a world too frail to contain him, one used to plan and measure twice before he pounces.
She thinks she'd like trying a three-way drift, just once, instead of the two of them chasing echoes of each other through Nepeta -- but not in battle, no. He's too much of a pacifist to revel in their easy carnage.
He likes waiting for them, this man Feferi only knows by proxy, and fixing Abyss Malkin's battle wounds and sending them off to war again. And he always says he doesn't like it but he always always always takes Feferi's helmet when Nepeta picks it up where Feferi on-purpose forgot it on the bench and hands it to him and says they need to check if the Pons system still works properly.
(It always does.)
A coterie of pilots and techs walks by on their way from the command center, Meenah in the middle, and they eye her weird for leaning so hard on the locker room door and Meenah sigh-smiles like sympathy. Feferi grins back, with all her teeth, and knows Nepeta would move in for the kill right alongside her, and what is Equius taking from her again?
If she fought with Meenah they might push the poor guy in her cockpit as replacement when she gets benched, and what a disaster his pondering measures and inhibitions would be against a kaiju. She waggles her eyebrows at her clone, her twin, her perfect abhorrent match, and she laughs alone against the door at the joke everyone thinks is on her and none of them really gets.
--
Midnight on the Demon Patrol chapter 19
--
The first thing Karkat does when they finally come home is to rush up the ladder and check on his nest. Dave's shoulder is still bandaged, and once again he's right back to sleeping on the couch. He's starting to think the universe wants him to cede the space to his demon, but damn it, he is not giving up his futon under the slanting ceiling and the odd light that comes from the window.
"Marshmallows still good?" he calls up to Karkat, even as he flops down on the couch under the mezzanine.
"Uh -- lemme open the bag." A pause. "Yeah, they're still edible, though I was more concerned about rats or those motherfucking crows."
Dave snorts quietly. He can't say he was honestly worried about the marshmallows, those things last years. Okay, at least half a year. He's pretty sure he read things about that before. And the crow vendetta keeps being silly and hilarious. "We don't have rats!" he calls up.
"Uh huh," Karkat replies, muffled and distracted, as he rummages into a plastic bag. "You keep thinking that."
"We have rats? Seriously? Hell."
He reclines against the back of the couch, eyes closed. He's watched too much TV at the hospital, turning it on sounds even worse than doing nothing.
Since he's doing nothing, hey.
He gets the candle and the matches, sets them on the coffee table before him. A little flame -- there.
Aradia. Aradia, Aradia, Aradia, spring after winter when it's getting nice and warm and you almost don't notice the bite of frost still lurking in every shadow, and time keeps turning and soon winter will come again, but...
So will spring! Hey, Dave, been a while. I was starting to think you'd stopped liking me!
His lips crook into a tiny smile. His eyes stay closed. Preposterous. I'd even say unpossible. It was just that slight case of Damara-induced brush with mortality...
Pff, you brush against mortality every day, you guys are all in each other's grill, it's pretty cuddly as relationships go.
A snort. Thanks for the reminder, Aradia. Where would I be without it, thinking I was immortal and shit.
Probably dead!
"... Yeeeeah, that was the implication there."
"Who are you talking to?" Karkat asks, peering over the edge of the mezzanine.
"Aradia. Wanna say hi?"
"No. Pay her more, so you get to have her around instead of Damara next time."
Aradia giggles in his head. Or maybe cackles, but in a pretty cute way. It almost doesn't sound vaguely evil! (It's evil in a fun way, at least, instead of a vicious, hateful way, so hey, he'll take what he can get.) I like the way he thinks. Oh, I know a surefire way for you to outbid that other summoner! Actually, pretty much the only way, considering your respective resources.
Dave wonders what that other summoner pays for her services. Maybe they're the type who has enough concentration and hours to waste on meditation. "Yeah? What is it?"
He gets the feeling of a cheerful, hopeful grin. Can I have a dead Dave?
... Huh.
Huh.
I'm not asking for Dave Prime's death! Just a branching Dave. It'd still be you enough to be pretty powerful.
"Huh."
Also I've been wondering how you'd taste for a while now, and you're going to live so long!
"Sixty-six years is not that long, actually. I mean, it's average I guess..." He'd still be old and slow and probably in pain and unable to kick much ass, so. He doesn't regret it too horribly. Better a few painful, boring years shaved off the end of his life than that building destroying the street, his coworkers crushed underneath.
Does creating an alternate Dave in order to kill him count as murder or suicide? Self-sacrifice, maybe -- considering he'd be him, he'd know why it was necessary... But wouldn't it be hard, to be the alternate instead? Could he -- either of them -- do it in cold blood?
But wouldn't it be necessary? How much easier would the fight against Kurloz have gone with Aradia with him, willing and eager to fight, maybe even eager to collaborate with Kankri's thing, instead of Damara?
"Do you know what Kankri did? I mean, what he can do? With his -- like -- using demons to..." He doesn't know how to word it. He waves his hand vaguely. Karkat is still peering at him, chewing on marshmallows. "I could act as a Knight of Time. I don't think it really hurt Latula or Damara -- would you be okay with that?"
Huh. Yeah, I heard a bit about Blood things. Sounds potentially fun, but I don't know how much I'd like being tangled up in you when you're in danger like that. ... I'd probably do it for a dead Dave though! she says with a mental eyebrow wriggle.
Dave sighs. "I'm not saying no straight off the bat, hon, but I don't even know how I managed the dead Dave the first time, so you'd have to explain--"
Karkat snarls. "No she fucking won't!"
He throws the marshmallow bag on the floor -- huh -- swings himself over the railing, lands hard on the table, which creaks but somehow doesn't break. (His claws leave gouges in the wood.) And then he's in Dave's space, bristled all over, eyes glowing, pouncing to plant his hands on the cushions around his head.
Dave's head bounces with the impact.
"You are not allowed to fucking die," Karkat snarls, his bristly bangs tickling Dave's eyelids, "no you is allowed to die, you can't ever fucking do that again, do you hear me? Zero yous, none of the yous, you are staying the fuck alive and if that means we end up with a dozen bleached turds in shades in this apartment then good!"
He looks... Furious, yes. Dave is pretty sure they have achieved Spittle.
Also panicked, underneath.
"Is this where I make the Dave Strider harem joke," Dave says, dumbly, because he's a dumbass.
--
Covalent - outsider POV - Karkat's neighbor pesterlog silliness
--
-- blitheSpy [BS] started trolling saffronBisque [SB] --
BS: harias harias harias
BS: hi hell>o< hi
BS: y>o<u'll never guess what!!!
SB: Hi hoN.
BS: >o<mg harigrub
BS: sweetie
BS: magg>o<cutie
BS: GUESS.
SB: PfffF.
SB: Okay. three trieS?
SB: You got your (()) delivereD.
BS: WR>O<NG WR>O<NG WR>O<>O<>O<>O<NG!
BS: remember my neighb>o<r?
SB: You have twenty of theM.
SB: Where's the rest of my guesseS?
BS: N>O< TIME F>O<R Y>O<UR WR>O<NGNESS.
BS: but >o<kay y>o<u can guess which neighb>o<r i mean
SB: Three questionS.
BS: kay <3<3<3
SB: Live lusus or dead lusuS.
BS: dead!!
SB: Vulpecula chicK? WhatshernameE. MililI?
BS: n>o<pe
SB: Pap or slaP.
BS: pap!!
SB: AzrutH.
BS: WR>O<NG.
SB: Cancer or perseuS.
SB: HoN?
BS: wh>o<>o<ps s>o<rry i had t>o< keep an eye >o<n DEVEL>O<PMENTS.
BS: bluh yeah >o<k cancer
SB: Your other cancer neighbor still has her lusus righT?
SB: Also she lives way far and out of line of sighT.
SB: Three questions. wiN.
BS: pffffff n>o< >o<ne was still thinking ab>o<ut that game
BS: HE HAS PE>O<PLE >O<VER.
--
Coffeshop Wages Slave AU, Terezi/Dave/Gamzee Ashen Comedy pt. 2
--
"Hi!" the slaughterlawyer says, all teeth out, when he walks up to their booth.
This isn't the kind of establishment where the baristas wait on the patrons. Apparently she went through the bar, but her hell clown hate-boyfriend didn't, considering the menu Lexi pushed into his hands before shoving him out into the main room and the empty table before him.
Dave has spent the last two days working himself into exhaustion. Last night -- day, fuck trolls, they're too weird -- he dreamed of Rose in a dentist uniform strapping him down and going to town on his back molars while asking him questions he couldn't answer, his mouth being full of death implements. Questions such as "And how long have you had this death wish, Mister Strider, hmm?" He's just... he's not sure if he's back to more normal levels of couldn't care less or if it's the exhaustion talking, but his eyelid barely twitches behind his shades.
They're still not a waiting on patrons kind of establishment. He doesn't care the asshole is decked in some shade of purple-blue.
"What'll it be?" he asks, bland-faced, holding his pad ready.
"Not even up and saying hi, motherfucker?"
... Fff. Not worth it. "Hi," he deadpans. "What'll it be."
The dude's eyebrow goes all quirked behind the paint but the stupid coat of gloopy tackiness makes it hard to read accurately. Not murderous yet, so who cares. "What you got?"
"Everything listed on this menu," Dave points out in his best smooth, bland voice, pointing at the menu he left on the table with his pencil. He doesn't make a quip about illiteracy and-or blindness, he isn't sure how.
Judge Dredd doesn't make a single quip about this, which has Dave stealing her a glance, but her lips are pursed in an oddly quizzical way and she's not-quite-staring at him and has proved to possess an uncanny ability to notice when he stares back, so he stares at the wall instead as he waits.