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Entry tags:
Monthly Word Count - November
TOTAL: 35 575 holy mother of God. (whoops i'd even forgotten a bit of BT)
POSTED:
-The Family You Choose: Crash Standing chapter 1 - Crash Standing chapter 2 - Crash Standing chapter 3 - Crash Standing chapter 4 (Davesprite/karkat) (21 245 words) (O_O)
-The Family You Choose: Morning After (john finds out) (1 654 words)
WORK IN PROGRESS:
-The Family You Choose: Crash Standing chapter 5 (complete, unposted) (4 209 words)
-The Family You Choose: Crash Standing chapter 6 (wip) (3 290 words)
-Sunlightverse: Sollux Fic (1 933 words)
-Battlefield Terra: chapter 6 (1 345 words)
-Ofic: Tyr, Attempt 3 for NaNo (1 894 words)
--
Crash Standing chapter 5
--
You wake up because there's someone staring at you and also you can't breathe.
If the staring you awake thing happens three times in a row you swear you will flip a nun ass over rosary. For now you just force your eyes open into the gloomy room and try to figure out who left an elephant parked over your ribs.
Pat. Pat.
You recognize that (supple, smooth, bare) thigh. Okay, how the fuck did Karkat end up face up and ass across your stomach, his legs have to be dangling over the edge of the bed and considering where the wall is his neck is probably made of origami, this is ridiculous.
He's still breathing all soft and sleepingly, though, so you keep squinting.
Huh, there's a gargoyle perched on your footboard.
Where the fuck is your sword. Sword now. You need your fucking sword oh hey antelope horns and Cthulhu hair.
Wonder who that could be!
Nope, still feels like your need your goddamn sword.
"Can I help you, bro?" you ask. You're getting used to the green ambient light from the alarm clock, you think you can see a gleaming bit where his eyes should be. His horns tilt a bit to the side and his eyes flash all greenyellowwhite like a cat staring down a coming car. Nice reminder that he's probably seeing you a lot better than you're seeing him, woohoo xeno.
(You might feel rather annoyed at it right now, but actually it is pretty interesting. Once again you wish you had some troll body parts in jars for your collection of awesome creepy things You'll be interested another day, though.)
"Why'd a motherfucker need any help from the likes of you, bro."
The things he is doing with his voicebox, the bass wobble and the almost subliminal nails-on-chalkboard scratches... The hair on your forearm and on the back of your neck prickles up.
"I'm not to be wanting to get my fucking bother on, anyway, not when you motherfuckers are sleeping all to safe and snug and nice, not me. Not motherfucking me."
"Whoa there, you sure you're supposed to hateflirt that hard so soon after you got your hatemack on? Hold your horses, stallion. Terezi hates you enough already."
You knew you should have shut your mouth pretty much as the words started coming out, but having good judgment and actually using it are two pretty different things. Yours is still in mint condition, you could make a fortune off a collector somewhere.
--
Sunlightverse: Sollux fic
--
She adds a sadly disappointed shake of her head that makes the oddly Gl'bgolybian curls of her horns clang against Roxy's sweet rack and hook her in. You might be snickering a bit; they keep forgetting they have headgear now, it's hilarious. You watch with a small sardonic smirk on your face as the green ex-skullmonster chick leans over Roxy's lap to squint worriedly at the mess they've made and guide Roxy's outermost spur out of the cerulean's minor branch.
You still don't know if Cerulean Chick is Roxy's moirail or her matesprit or some weird human muddle of both, but the way she was around Strider Bis was so goddamn pale you might have gagged a bit.
"You could try to help, Mr. Captor!"
Ehehe. "Naw, why? You gotta learn to remember that shit's there and learn how to deal with it. You're not doing them a favor, not letting them handle it, you know," you add to Greenie, fake-disapproving. Roxy scowls and kicks your ankle. Ow. Yess.
"Don't listen to him, Callie, he's just jealous because his are tiny."
... Oh she didn't. "Oi, oi, mine would be a perfectly respectable size even if I didn't have two pairs, I'll have you know, you non-trolls are the freaks, what's with the hugeass rack average? Only JD's are natural-sized."
You give a mildly disgusted look at the two human boys spooning, dead asleep, behind Roxy. The Prospit one at least brings down the human average by having smallish burgeoning rounded horns, rooted on his temples, that probably won't even bother him at all. The Derse human, Strider and therefore Douchebag to the end, apparently decided that an arm's length was a perfectly reasonable size. His sweep to the sides and up in half-circles before thrusting back like lance points, and the contortions the poor asshole has to make to rest on his side without craning his neck at a crippling angle are pretty ridiculous.
"Naw, Daddy Crocker's are like even smaller than the little shouty one, it's disgusting how small and cute they are."
The cerulean groans. "Roxy, Heaven help me, if you start drooling after my father again--"
"It's not my fault they just, like, poke out of his hat like tiny devil baby--"
You've had sufficient time to hack through three layers of firewall; you felt like an awesome sneaky bastard at first but now you're feeling like she's gotten bored. "Oi. It's not that I don't care about you guys and your sudden fascination for horn fondling, but actually, no, I don't care. Can't you wait until you're behind locked doors or something, it's gross."
"Okay, okay, jeeze, you're needy -- oh, you bitch! Oh, Captor, you didn't."
"Sure did, sweetcheeks."
The two of you go right back to trying to pin each other down and ride each other into the ground by computerized proxy.
It's fucking gorgeous in really frustrating ways what she can do to a computer, with her mix of Alternian and Earth coding and the hideous ways they've been stitched down the middle. She throws challenge after challenge in your face in computing languages you've barely started learning, and who cares about the rest of the cave anymore, or her cuddlebitches one on each side and two behind and their five-ways pale clusterfuck, your world is your grubtop and the keyboard dancing under your psionics --
The screen goes black.
"Victory!" She squeezes the Crocker ex-human and the green ex-skullmonster against her sides, and grins, all white teeth and sparkling, too-lightly-pink eyes. You stare. "Team Ro-Lal ruins Captor's shit once again!"
--
Battlefield Terra chapter 6
--
"Could I have some good news for once?!" he shouted, standing. He wanted to flip something -- his breakfast plate, the massive oak table, his own lid. He threw his hands up, raked them through his hair. "God damn it, this is not fair, what'd I do to deserve this load of bull? Step on nuns in Warhammer? Flash preschool kids?!"
Karkat had stopped eating, was staring at him in total bafflement. Jade sighed, said "John," wearily.
"What?! No, seriously, is it too much to ask that at least once something good happen?! I swear Karkat's cursed, I've had nothing but shitty luck and bad days and--"
Someone slapped his head from behind. He caught himself on the table, whirled around on his assailant. His sister stood there, staring at him and supremely unimpressed. He growled, rubbing the back of his head.
"Now what is going on?" Jane asked, hands on her hips, lips pursed.
"John finally got around to check his email," the General informed her, and calmly took another sip of coffee. "Which I thought was a standard routine for all of you..."
"Aw, I'd have nothing to do anyway, why'd I have to check first thing?" John scowled and kicked lightly at his chair, which skidded along the floor, ricocheted off the table leg, and went careening off at an angle, crashing to the ground. Whoops. Jane pursed her lips at him until he went to pick it back up.
"Is that all? Honestly! You're grounded anyway and it's not like they don't keep replacement parts ready to go, it won't take too long!"
"Repairs would have taken two weeks! Piecing a new one together will take at least one month! That's not too long to you?"
He righted the chair. Jane kept glowering. He sat, scowling.
"... You could let me have Poseidon! It's not like you even like flyi--"
Bam, another slap to the back of his head. "John, I love you, but if I catch you trying to borrow my mech I might do something irreparable to your anatomy and my prawn desheller. Now finish your breakfast."
Pouting, he started prodding at his food again. "Dunno if you remember but you're two minutes older, mom."
Jade grimaced. "Eugh, gross. Could you please not remind us?"
"Wh-- I was saying she acted like my mom, not that she -- uuuugh." John eyed Harley sideways. He had one hand covering his moustache and his eyes laughing, though rather ruefully. Always weird to remember that if they did a DNA analysis on the people in this room, John and Jade would come out as the General and Jane's lovechildren. Most of the time he honestly did forget, because it really didn't matter. But Jane had gotten a bit touchy about it when she hit her teenage years and he had no idea why.
Karkat was staring at them all in turn like he was wondering why he'd even been startled and also oh god why did I have to fall in with lunatics. Made John's lips quirk up some, but then he remembered his mech was going to be stripped for parts. He shuffled toward Jade to let Jane make herself a spot at the far corner of the table and poked at his food, head hanging. Fuck his life.
Coffee sips. Cutlery on plates. Not-so-stealthy whisper. "Uhn -- Zheyd?"
"Yes, Kark-- oh! Pfffhehe."
John glanced up. Karkat was staring dubiously at the floor on the side of his chair opposite from the General.
Bec was staring back, sitting there, jaw open just enough to pant and let a red tongue loll through white fangs. Hungrily.
John might have snerked a bit. That sure explained the betrayed look Karkat flicked him. Jade waved her hand, laughing. "No, no, it's okay."
Karkat did not seem to agree. Like, at all. "No. No no no. Bad no."
"You've got to learn to get along!" Jade replied, nodding enthusiastically. "Also not to show fear. That's critical. Be brave!"
"Jade, you're evil," John noted approvingly. Jane sighed.
"Ah -- Karkat." The alien blinked up; Jane pointed at his half-full plate, then at the dog, not quite meeting Karkat's eyes. "He wants your food."
Karkat looked at her, at his plate, and then at the dog, whose tongue had unrolled in a somewhat mocking-looking, anticipatory grin.
The alien's eyes narrowed, and he stabbed all his bacon in one go and stuffed it in his mouth.
Munch.
"No. Hrrn."
The look on his face could have been subtitled 'So There.' Pffff.
--
Tyr ofic (this version's been dropped)
--
"What's up, man? Corporal Keller, Theta Division, Seventh Company, nice to meet you fine gentleman," he said, and made sure not to uncover his teeth when he smiled, or scramble away from the feral, snarling man pacing at the other end of the cell.
Back and forth, back and forth, caged beast. Keller sat up, dusted himself off, leaned his back against the locked door. "I like that you're still walking on two legs, buddy. You can't imagine how much I like it."
Not that his fellow prisoner walked like a man, per se. He moved with his back hunched, hips rolling weird, bare feet gliding too-silently in the old straw covering the paved stone floor. And he kept staring at Keller, and staring and staring, head pivoting with each quick turn. The cell wasn't very wide; there were a lot of those.
To be charitable, walking hunched was a bit inevitable, because the roof sloped down the farther you went from the door, anyway.
The overgrown crew cut was almost more of a hint than the fatigues about to fall off bony hips, but even in the absolute dark Keller would have known.
Predator, something growled inside his soul, predator, kill it first, kill it now.
If the length of the guy's hobo beard was any indication, he was about two weeks ahead of Keller on the trip to Quitting Your Meds Cold Turkey 'Ville. He'd be stronger, physically. More feral, more unpredictable, possibly faster as well. Keller gave another close-mouthed smile and stretched his arms casually, rolled his head to relieve a cramp in his shoulder. There, there, he thought to himself, eyes going heavy-lidded with gallows humor. We're stalking. Don't be impatient. The prey needs to get in range first.
(Not like us not us kill it, kill it.)
"So. Pretty obvious you're Theta too. Which company?" A tilt of his head, a thoughtful (mostly fake) hum. "Third?"
Keller had heard rumors from people who'd supposedly witnessed Descents. He was seriously wondering how much were baseless, totally made-up rumors. 'There was no one home in his eyes!', his sweet, well-toned ass. The body staring at him was far from empty.
Maybe that was the problem. It was disturbingly full, actually. Intense barely started to cover it. Intense and intent and irritated, present. Burningly alive.
Burningly inhuman.
Okay, next you'll be spouting off goth poetry, stop right here.
Actually, that was the thing. He'd intruded (been intruded, fuck the Gwel sideway with a pinecone) on a feral beast. He hadn't intruded on a berserker.
The other man was even calming down, slowing, falling into a low, wary crouch. Keller eyed him while pretending not to eye him for a little while; a low rolling growl rose and fell and rose like a wave on a calm beach, not like a chainsaw anymore, more grouchy than immediate as far as threats went. Awesome.
Okay. Inventory time.
Physical status: bruised. How terrible. Mental status: as sane as he ever got.
What he still had: his pants! Man was he glad for pants. What he didn't have: the contents of his pants pockets. His shirt. His pack. His belt. His boots.
(His meds.)
Breaking out of the cell and running away through the woods was going to be mildly awkward.
Apart from the oak door the cell was all stone, ancient and damp and horribly solid-looking. Possibly it hadn't even been built by Gwel, European history was weird like that, but he didn't give much of a damn right now that he was locked in it. There was a small window behind his charming roommate, not even big enough to put his head through and blocked with metal bars beside; it let in faint light, so possibly it opened onto something that opened onto the outside in turn.
He'd probably have been blind in here before the treatment, but between that and the light filtering in through the cracks in the door he was pretty okay. He wondered how blind a Gwel would be, in here.
"Say, buddy. If I manage to drag one of those assholes in here, how 'bout we share? Shoes for me, fresh meat for you..."
The man's eyes narrowed, his growl deepened. He had to be ruining his vocal cords. Gonna be talking like a smoker for the rest of his life at this rate. (Not that he promised to speak ever again. Once you Descended, said every single doctor they had, you did not Ascend again. There was no "you" left to ascend again. Everyone knew that.)
(Just like they knew that you couldn't get along disturbingly well with the beast waiting to invade you, and give it pet names and maybe, secretly, think that it was right, that it was good, that it fit.) "Gwel?" Keller couldn't help grinning there, teeth too white in the dark. "Grr, Gwel."
... Whoa.
"I'll be fucked," he said, and stared, because the other man's snarl had just ratcheted up, his lips curled in a disturbingly monkey-like grimace, though he could guess at what it was trying to be. "Gwel?"
Agitated, the too-thin man crouched lower to the ground, leaned on his hands, sniffed the air, right and then left, shuffled a step closer. Still wary, watching Keller from underneath, head low, ready to spring, but...
"Gwel?"
"Rrrhhh."
He couldn't help laughing. "Oh hey, buddy, you're still in here after all."
Okay, so, inventory... an armful of old straw, and a wolf in a human meat suit.
Not too bad, actually.
POSTED:
-The Family You Choose: Crash Standing chapter 1 - Crash Standing chapter 2 - Crash Standing chapter 3 - Crash Standing chapter 4 (Davesprite/karkat) (21 245 words) (O_O)
-The Family You Choose: Morning After (john finds out) (1 654 words)
WORK IN PROGRESS:
-The Family You Choose: Crash Standing chapter 5 (complete, unposted) (4 209 words)
-The Family You Choose: Crash Standing chapter 6 (wip) (3 290 words)
-Sunlightverse: Sollux Fic (1 933 words)
-Battlefield Terra: chapter 6 (1 345 words)
-Ofic: Tyr, Attempt 3 for NaNo (1 894 words)
--
Crash Standing chapter 5
--
You wake up because there's someone staring at you and also you can't breathe.
If the staring you awake thing happens three times in a row you swear you will flip a nun ass over rosary. For now you just force your eyes open into the gloomy room and try to figure out who left an elephant parked over your ribs.
Pat. Pat.
You recognize that (supple, smooth, bare) thigh. Okay, how the fuck did Karkat end up face up and ass across your stomach, his legs have to be dangling over the edge of the bed and considering where the wall is his neck is probably made of origami, this is ridiculous.
He's still breathing all soft and sleepingly, though, so you keep squinting.
Huh, there's a gargoyle perched on your footboard.
Where the fuck is your sword. Sword now. You need your fucking sword oh hey antelope horns and Cthulhu hair.
Wonder who that could be!
Nope, still feels like your need your goddamn sword.
"Can I help you, bro?" you ask. You're getting used to the green ambient light from the alarm clock, you think you can see a gleaming bit where his eyes should be. His horns tilt a bit to the side and his eyes flash all greenyellowwhite like a cat staring down a coming car. Nice reminder that he's probably seeing you a lot better than you're seeing him, woohoo xeno.
(You might feel rather annoyed at it right now, but actually it is pretty interesting. Once again you wish you had some troll body parts in jars for your collection of awesome creepy things You'll be interested another day, though.)
"Why'd a motherfucker need any help from the likes of you, bro."
The things he is doing with his voicebox, the bass wobble and the almost subliminal nails-on-chalkboard scratches... The hair on your forearm and on the back of your neck prickles up.
"I'm not to be wanting to get my fucking bother on, anyway, not when you motherfuckers are sleeping all to safe and snug and nice, not me. Not motherfucking me."
"Whoa there, you sure you're supposed to hateflirt that hard so soon after you got your hatemack on? Hold your horses, stallion. Terezi hates you enough already."
You knew you should have shut your mouth pretty much as the words started coming out, but having good judgment and actually using it are two pretty different things. Yours is still in mint condition, you could make a fortune off a collector somewhere.
--
Sunlightverse: Sollux fic
--
She adds a sadly disappointed shake of her head that makes the oddly Gl'bgolybian curls of her horns clang against Roxy's sweet rack and hook her in. You might be snickering a bit; they keep forgetting they have headgear now, it's hilarious. You watch with a small sardonic smirk on your face as the green ex-skullmonster chick leans over Roxy's lap to squint worriedly at the mess they've made and guide Roxy's outermost spur out of the cerulean's minor branch.
You still don't know if Cerulean Chick is Roxy's moirail or her matesprit or some weird human muddle of both, but the way she was around Strider Bis was so goddamn pale you might have gagged a bit.
"You could try to help, Mr. Captor!"
Ehehe. "Naw, why? You gotta learn to remember that shit's there and learn how to deal with it. You're not doing them a favor, not letting them handle it, you know," you add to Greenie, fake-disapproving. Roxy scowls and kicks your ankle. Ow. Yess.
"Don't listen to him, Callie, he's just jealous because his are tiny."
... Oh she didn't. "Oi, oi, mine would be a perfectly respectable size even if I didn't have two pairs, I'll have you know, you non-trolls are the freaks, what's with the hugeass rack average? Only JD's are natural-sized."
You give a mildly disgusted look at the two human boys spooning, dead asleep, behind Roxy. The Prospit one at least brings down the human average by having smallish burgeoning rounded horns, rooted on his temples, that probably won't even bother him at all. The Derse human, Strider and therefore Douchebag to the end, apparently decided that an arm's length was a perfectly reasonable size. His sweep to the sides and up in half-circles before thrusting back like lance points, and the contortions the poor asshole has to make to rest on his side without craning his neck at a crippling angle are pretty ridiculous.
"Naw, Daddy Crocker's are like even smaller than the little shouty one, it's disgusting how small and cute they are."
The cerulean groans. "Roxy, Heaven help me, if you start drooling after my father again--"
"It's not my fault they just, like, poke out of his hat like tiny devil baby--"
You've had sufficient time to hack through three layers of firewall; you felt like an awesome sneaky bastard at first but now you're feeling like she's gotten bored. "Oi. It's not that I don't care about you guys and your sudden fascination for horn fondling, but actually, no, I don't care. Can't you wait until you're behind locked doors or something, it's gross."
"Okay, okay, jeeze, you're needy -- oh, you bitch! Oh, Captor, you didn't."
"Sure did, sweetcheeks."
The two of you go right back to trying to pin each other down and ride each other into the ground by computerized proxy.
It's fucking gorgeous in really frustrating ways what she can do to a computer, with her mix of Alternian and Earth coding and the hideous ways they've been stitched down the middle. She throws challenge after challenge in your face in computing languages you've barely started learning, and who cares about the rest of the cave anymore, or her cuddlebitches one on each side and two behind and their five-ways pale clusterfuck, your world is your grubtop and the keyboard dancing under your psionics --
The screen goes black.
"Victory!" She squeezes the Crocker ex-human and the green ex-skullmonster against her sides, and grins, all white teeth and sparkling, too-lightly-pink eyes. You stare. "Team Ro-Lal ruins Captor's shit once again!"
--
Battlefield Terra chapter 6
--
"Could I have some good news for once?!" he shouted, standing. He wanted to flip something -- his breakfast plate, the massive oak table, his own lid. He threw his hands up, raked them through his hair. "God damn it, this is not fair, what'd I do to deserve this load of bull? Step on nuns in Warhammer? Flash preschool kids?!"
Karkat had stopped eating, was staring at him in total bafflement. Jade sighed, said "John," wearily.
"What?! No, seriously, is it too much to ask that at least once something good happen?! I swear Karkat's cursed, I've had nothing but shitty luck and bad days and--"
Someone slapped his head from behind. He caught himself on the table, whirled around on his assailant. His sister stood there, staring at him and supremely unimpressed. He growled, rubbing the back of his head.
"Now what is going on?" Jane asked, hands on her hips, lips pursed.
"John finally got around to check his email," the General informed her, and calmly took another sip of coffee. "Which I thought was a standard routine for all of you..."
"Aw, I'd have nothing to do anyway, why'd I have to check first thing?" John scowled and kicked lightly at his chair, which skidded along the floor, ricocheted off the table leg, and went careening off at an angle, crashing to the ground. Whoops. Jane pursed her lips at him until he went to pick it back up.
"Is that all? Honestly! You're grounded anyway and it's not like they don't keep replacement parts ready to go, it won't take too long!"
"Repairs would have taken two weeks! Piecing a new one together will take at least one month! That's not too long to you?"
He righted the chair. Jane kept glowering. He sat, scowling.
"... You could let me have Poseidon! It's not like you even like flyi--"
Bam, another slap to the back of his head. "John, I love you, but if I catch you trying to borrow my mech I might do something irreparable to your anatomy and my prawn desheller. Now finish your breakfast."
Pouting, he started prodding at his food again. "Dunno if you remember but you're two minutes older, mom."
Jade grimaced. "Eugh, gross. Could you please not remind us?"
"Wh-- I was saying she acted like my mom, not that she -- uuuugh." John eyed Harley sideways. He had one hand covering his moustache and his eyes laughing, though rather ruefully. Always weird to remember that if they did a DNA analysis on the people in this room, John and Jade would come out as the General and Jane's lovechildren. Most of the time he honestly did forget, because it really didn't matter. But Jane had gotten a bit touchy about it when she hit her teenage years and he had no idea why.
Karkat was staring at them all in turn like he was wondering why he'd even been startled and also oh god why did I have to fall in with lunatics. Made John's lips quirk up some, but then he remembered his mech was going to be stripped for parts. He shuffled toward Jade to let Jane make herself a spot at the far corner of the table and poked at his food, head hanging. Fuck his life.
Coffee sips. Cutlery on plates. Not-so-stealthy whisper. "Uhn -- Zheyd?"
"Yes, Kark-- oh! Pfffhehe."
John glanced up. Karkat was staring dubiously at the floor on the side of his chair opposite from the General.
Bec was staring back, sitting there, jaw open just enough to pant and let a red tongue loll through white fangs. Hungrily.
John might have snerked a bit. That sure explained the betrayed look Karkat flicked him. Jade waved her hand, laughing. "No, no, it's okay."
Karkat did not seem to agree. Like, at all. "No. No no no. Bad no."
"You've got to learn to get along!" Jade replied, nodding enthusiastically. "Also not to show fear. That's critical. Be brave!"
"Jade, you're evil," John noted approvingly. Jane sighed.
"Ah -- Karkat." The alien blinked up; Jane pointed at his half-full plate, then at the dog, not quite meeting Karkat's eyes. "He wants your food."
Karkat looked at her, at his plate, and then at the dog, whose tongue had unrolled in a somewhat mocking-looking, anticipatory grin.
The alien's eyes narrowed, and he stabbed all his bacon in one go and stuffed it in his mouth.
Munch.
"No. Hrrn."
The look on his face could have been subtitled 'So There.' Pffff.
--
Tyr ofic (this version's been dropped)
--
"What's up, man? Corporal Keller, Theta Division, Seventh Company, nice to meet you fine gentleman," he said, and made sure not to uncover his teeth when he smiled, or scramble away from the feral, snarling man pacing at the other end of the cell.
Back and forth, back and forth, caged beast. Keller sat up, dusted himself off, leaned his back against the locked door. "I like that you're still walking on two legs, buddy. You can't imagine how much I like it."
Not that his fellow prisoner walked like a man, per se. He moved with his back hunched, hips rolling weird, bare feet gliding too-silently in the old straw covering the paved stone floor. And he kept staring at Keller, and staring and staring, head pivoting with each quick turn. The cell wasn't very wide; there were a lot of those.
To be charitable, walking hunched was a bit inevitable, because the roof sloped down the farther you went from the door, anyway.
The overgrown crew cut was almost more of a hint than the fatigues about to fall off bony hips, but even in the absolute dark Keller would have known.
Predator, something growled inside his soul, predator, kill it first, kill it now.
If the length of the guy's hobo beard was any indication, he was about two weeks ahead of Keller on the trip to Quitting Your Meds Cold Turkey 'Ville. He'd be stronger, physically. More feral, more unpredictable, possibly faster as well. Keller gave another close-mouthed smile and stretched his arms casually, rolled his head to relieve a cramp in his shoulder. There, there, he thought to himself, eyes going heavy-lidded with gallows humor. We're stalking. Don't be impatient. The prey needs to get in range first.
(Not like us not us kill it, kill it.)
"So. Pretty obvious you're Theta too. Which company?" A tilt of his head, a thoughtful (mostly fake) hum. "Third?"
Keller had heard rumors from people who'd supposedly witnessed Descents. He was seriously wondering how much were baseless, totally made-up rumors. 'There was no one home in his eyes!', his sweet, well-toned ass. The body staring at him was far from empty.
Maybe that was the problem. It was disturbingly full, actually. Intense barely started to cover it. Intense and intent and irritated, present. Burningly alive.
Burningly inhuman.
Okay, next you'll be spouting off goth poetry, stop right here.
Actually, that was the thing. He'd intruded (been intruded, fuck the Gwel sideway with a pinecone) on a feral beast. He hadn't intruded on a berserker.
The other man was even calming down, slowing, falling into a low, wary crouch. Keller eyed him while pretending not to eye him for a little while; a low rolling growl rose and fell and rose like a wave on a calm beach, not like a chainsaw anymore, more grouchy than immediate as far as threats went. Awesome.
Okay. Inventory time.
Physical status: bruised. How terrible. Mental status: as sane as he ever got.
What he still had: his pants! Man was he glad for pants. What he didn't have: the contents of his pants pockets. His shirt. His pack. His belt. His boots.
(His meds.)
Breaking out of the cell and running away through the woods was going to be mildly awkward.
Apart from the oak door the cell was all stone, ancient and damp and horribly solid-looking. Possibly it hadn't even been built by Gwel, European history was weird like that, but he didn't give much of a damn right now that he was locked in it. There was a small window behind his charming roommate, not even big enough to put his head through and blocked with metal bars beside; it let in faint light, so possibly it opened onto something that opened onto the outside in turn.
He'd probably have been blind in here before the treatment, but between that and the light filtering in through the cracks in the door he was pretty okay. He wondered how blind a Gwel would be, in here.
"Say, buddy. If I manage to drag one of those assholes in here, how 'bout we share? Shoes for me, fresh meat for you..."
The man's eyes narrowed, his growl deepened. He had to be ruining his vocal cords. Gonna be talking like a smoker for the rest of his life at this rate. (Not that he promised to speak ever again. Once you Descended, said every single doctor they had, you did not Ascend again. There was no "you" left to ascend again. Everyone knew that.)
(Just like they knew that you couldn't get along disturbingly well with the beast waiting to invade you, and give it pet names and maybe, secretly, think that it was right, that it was good, that it fit.) "Gwel?" Keller couldn't help grinning there, teeth too white in the dark. "Grr, Gwel."
... Whoa.
"I'll be fucked," he said, and stared, because the other man's snarl had just ratcheted up, his lips curled in a disturbingly monkey-like grimace, though he could guess at what it was trying to be. "Gwel?"
Agitated, the too-thin man crouched lower to the ground, leaned on his hands, sniffed the air, right and then left, shuffled a step closer. Still wary, watching Keller from underneath, head low, ready to spring, but...
"Gwel?"
"Rrrhhh."
He couldn't help laughing. "Oh hey, buddy, you're still in here after all."
Okay, so, inventory... an armful of old straw, and a wolf in a human meat suit.
Not too bad, actually.
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It looks like Gamzee learning to share Karkat with his other quadrants is going to be...interesting. Hopefully in non-fatal ways.
The Hacker!Kismeses in Sunlight are still looking to be pretty cute, and honestly Roxy kinda does win for PaleSlut of the year, even over the other humans, doesn't she?
BT!Karkat vs. Bec is going to just be adorably funny.
That...is looking like a fascinating take on the Tyr story, though I can also understand how it might be hard to go anywhere with.
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Even more interesting than you know bwahaha. i hope i manage to complete chapter six today so i can post five already.
The hacker!kismesis are ridiculously fluffy and crushlike as kismesissitude goes, especially on Sollux's side. Not exactly a grand violent rivalry. XD
re:tyr, i ran into a wall barely 1500 words in. Sadness. ;__;
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*cough*
I mean, go you! That is some impressive progress. ^^
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Gargoyle!Gamzee is kind of hilarious as a concept, though terrifying as an actual experience. I hope Bro doesn't wear Byrd out completely, it's looking like he might need some energy reserves. (And should stay out of dark hallways, crawlspaces, and anywhere without witnesses...) Hope Karkat wakes up ready to pap sense into his moirail, too. I can only imagine what Karkat's feeling, though, since, well. Sleeping together in a strictly practical way, then experimental makeouts, then more sleeping together after makeouts -- his motives/that relationship is probably hard to explain to himself, much less to Gamzee.
Roxy and Sollux! ROXY AND SOLLUX. How are they so awesome together? (opposed?) I can't even tell you how happy their possibly-flirting makes me.
(I have this headcanon, see, and so far your fic is playing right into it, deliciously! The headcanon in question, if you're interested, is that in Alternian society, the perpetually-on-the-edge-of-violence, high-rate-of-collateral-damage kismesissitude is glorified as the most romantic/the ideal of what kismeses should be/do... but that's because highbloods determine what's 'sexy', and highbloods have hair-trigger tempers and a lot of physical strength. Lowbloods, though they pick up these attitudes because they're everywhere, tend not to achieve them; their caliginous pairs tend to be more personally-focused and less physically combative. After all, they're mostly psychics, not bruisers; and anyway lowbloods who blow up ships are killed by angry highblood ship owners, not looked up to. End result is that a lot of lowbloods feel insecure about their caliginous skills; this is partly why Karkat tries to hard and blusters so much about his spades capability in canon. Sollux, though, I always imagined not really caring -- whatever, let the highbloods do what they want, but he knows his abilities and what he wants in a challenge, and it has nothing to do with strife specibi.)
So, uh. Yeah, basically, thank you for writing a fic that fits in so perfectly with what I want to see in kismesissitude, even if you didn't intend to! The ankle-kicking "ow. Yess!" bit was extremely adorable in that context, because, well, that's pretty much where I see Sollux's level of interest in brawling; so unless she's looking to pull out her fistkind specibus on him later, they seem really well-matched in terms of what they want from each other! Give or take serious sexual interest on Roxy's part, since Sollux!POV doesn't tell us that.)
Other things I loved:
they keep forgetting they have headgear now, it's hilarious.
Because ha! Yes. Anyone with even a hint of schadenfreude in their nature must be having fun watching the humans jump up too fast and fall over, get snagged on random stuff, and otherwise forget they've got pointy bits where once they had none!
gorgeous in really frustrating ways what she can do to a computer, with her mix of Alternian and Earth coding and the hideous ways they've been stitched down the middle.
This struck me as very Sollux -- he has a thing for elegance (especially when it comes to things with a dual nature); I bet Roxy being far less concerned with whether something's 'hideous' than whether it's functional would provide some prime opportunity to scrape his nerves.
her cuddlebitches one on each side and two behind and their five-ways pale clusterfuck
Haha, I love your trolls because they are always trolls -- they see the world they way they were raised to, it doesn't magically change because they met some weird aliens. Of course they assess everyone's relationships in the terms they know; and of course they have trouble with the humans' relationships, because they're not using the same blueprint. :D
and grins, all white teeth and sparkling, too-lightly-pink eyes. You stare.
Yay for a bit of what seems like physical attraction, to go with the mental challenge they pose each other. :D All else aside, I bet trolls have lots of unexamined theads of assumption about the colour pink, attractiveness, rank, expected reactions, and potential for a given quadrant...
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... your headcanon is awesome o_o so tempted to adopt it.
you leave the best comments. so sad i'm too sleepy to answer properly ;___; ♥
sollux is so hard to write, i'm really glad to hear he doesn't ping you as ooc as fuck. XD;;
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All of my headcanons are open to joint-custody situations! *grins* My head spends a LOT of time spinning out ways in which troll society presents itself versus how it actually functions, because we see so much of it in the context of a bunch of kids who have actually never experienced it outside of media, and just look at human media and then tell me it's the plain unvarnished image of how humans work! I think a lot of people forget that there are no adult trolls on Alternia, and consequently every single kid on the planet is basically raising themselves based on representations of adulthood that may or may not be realistic, but which are definitely slanted.
Sollux is so hard to write
I HEAR YOU.
I'll spare you my guilt at not ever finishing my Dave/Sollux thing, and how even in that I stuck with Dave so I wouldn't have to manage writing Sollux.I think, though, that Sollux is hard to write because canon Sollux is also hard to read -- people have some pretty widely differing views of who he is, what he likes/wants, and how he works, but they all read the same canon! Unlike, say, Karkat, whom fans can all pretty much agree on key points of, Sollux seems to be a lot more open to interpretation. I suspect that I'd read even a somewhat OOC Sollux without complaining, because he's one of those characters where I'm not 100% locked in on my own interpretation; if you can convince me, I'll enjoy lots of different takes on him!But yeah, your Sollux seems to hit the key points that are locked in, in my head; mainly his "duality fetish" playing out in small ways as well as obvious ones, and his not generally being bothered by how he doesn't match the troll ideal of "active and aggressive" (he doesn't have a strife specibus! In a warrior culture! There is no clearer way of saying "your posturing is stupid because I can beat you to death with my brain and I'm proud of that") in either romance (do we ever see him genuinely pursue anyone, even if they initiate? Not that I can recall) or in terms of self-aggrandisement (he could, possibly, leverage himself a position WAY above his blood rank if he came across as a "go-getter"/someone on the offensive whom you shouldn't cross! But there's no sign he's ever done that, or even thought about it).
you leave the best comments
Aaaaaaaah, I am so flattered! *blushes* Thank you, because I often worry when I ramble that other people are being drowned in the text-spam! I came here to reply to your reply, saw that I started my novel-length comment with "that is a lot of words!", and almost died of the irony...
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It is indeed a fascinating thing to ponder. Like how quadrants truly work VS how karkat believes they work because ROMCOMS ARE NOT REAL LIFE DUDE??? Mmm meta ponderings. *_*
and consequently every single kid on the planet is basically raising themselves based on representations of adulthood that may or may not be realistic, but which are definitely slanted.
see, i'd never seen it formulated like that and so my headcanon was way muddier about it!
Sollux is a right pain in the ass, so cryptic and defeatist some days >__> i'm probably due for a reread of alterniabound anyway, should take notes and stuff... bluh. i liek ur headcanons yes plz.
seriously unless you're totally offtopic or attempting self promotion and using them as a billboard i don't think any author would MIND a big comment. Those are awesome.
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Yes! Because even aside from the romcoms/novels, people are biased by their friend-groups, and the way Person X and his friends understand/do relationships may be very unlike the way that, say, Person X's grandfather, or someone a continent away from Person X, understands/does relationships.
never seen it formulated like that and so my headcanon was way muddier
I am actually willing to entertain a variety of options regarding how they're slanted! Are they straightforwardly meant for entertainment, with all the unreality that implies? Are they actually intended/designed to teach young trolls about How Quadrants Work, and are therefore very carefully made to be examples of troll ideals? Are they intended to teach young trolls, and it's known that movies are a [low/high]blood fashion and so they're made to codify correct behaviour for that class? That's all up on the air and I love to see what authors do with it; I just know that movies always have some kind of slant, because a movie must have a story, and a story must have a conclusion. If troll movies are comparable to human movies, which it's implied frequently that they are, then they're not factual recordings of troll society. (And anyway there is no highly segregated, widespread society that is really "a society" rather than an aggregate of many sub-societies.)
I usually operate under the assumption that this headcanon from someone is true; or, at minimum, that there's a strong governmental censor that reviews media before it can be released, similar to certain Earth countries; we already know that the Empire is fine with banning things it perceives as a threat to itself (the Sufferer's existence was erased!), so it makes sense -- especially once adults are segregated and children must heavily rely on media for understanding of adult interaction -- that the Empire also watches for subversion in that direction.
so cryptic and defeatist some days
I KNOW! On the other hand, it does lead to strong desires to cuddle him and give him chocolate. :D
BT thoughts in a new comment.
Karkat was staring at them all in turn like he was wondering why he'd even been startled
Ahahaha, Karkat, poor Karkat! John just got pale gangbanged right in front of him, didn't he. TWO slaps to the head, one drawn-out Joooohn, and a lip-pursing, and John goes from screaming and kicking chairs to picking them up and resignedly eating. (And Karkat's going my poor virgin eyes! and not even the decency to take them on one at a time, out of sight from the others!?, I suspect.) Mwaha, humans are so good at cluelessly violating troll social mores and expectations. :D
"No. No no no. Bad no."
Ahahahaha, Karkat makes himself very clear despite his limited vocabulary! :D Has he made the connection yet between cat=pet and Bec=pet, or does he think... what, Bec is a wild animal they can't get rid of? an allied sapient species? a lusus that's very tolerant of other people around its charge? I look forward to finding out, because watching Karkat sass a dog is pretty darn hilarious (ALL THE BACON IS MINE, MUTT!) and it's kind of heartening that he didn't take Jane's explanation as a demand or as some kind of reminder where he stands as a prisoner. (Also: I ♥ Jane for explaining instead of just [what Karkat will hear as] babbling and laughing.)
"John finally got around to check his email,"
Psst -- "got around to checking his email".
I do look forward to finding out why Warhammer's being rebuilt instead of repaired; it can't be easy for John to sit things out for twice as long as he'd expected to be grounded, however little sympathy he gets.
Re: BT thoughts in a new comment.
Karkat is so very expressive and smart with words, he'd throw himself at this new challenge so well. u.u (It's not going to come clear in the fic, I don't think, so I'm telling you, he thinks Bec is Jade's lusus. XD And all humans are remarkably friendly so... of course the lusii would be too...? kind of...?)
Now you're pointing it out, I should add some description of Jane's voice as she explains to him. It's kind of sad that she's so patient and shearticulates her words so well and she KNOWS linguistics, and most of the time she just can't with him. ;__;
whoops will edit later *makes note*
Re: BT thoughts in a new comment.
Maybe once he picks that up he'll feel slightly better about their various pale assaults on him... It's not personal, Karkat, they're just used to the idea that everyone in their building is poly-pale and available!
Or they'll just wear him down through sheer repetition before he can wrangle the English skills to explain "no, that's skeevy and I do not consent to see it OR be part of it". Heh.
Now I'm picturing him, in some far future scene where trolls are around, just casually papping John in the face to shut him up or something, when John's "moirail" is present and clearly not minding this infringement-adultery combo, and all the trolls being all O: 0: D: D:< And Karkat's like "WHAT. WHAT? Um. Oh!"
Re: BT thoughts in a new comment.
Re: BT thoughts in a new comment.
THIS
(Anonymous) 2012-12-02 03:02 pm (UTC)(link)Re: THIS
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And Dad-Crockerbert's horns are totes cute!
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