Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Karkat, awake far too early in the day for his own good (IE, nine in the morning), slumped on the couch, staring at the TV, which was set to a recording of one of Nepeta's favorite shows, Lions Doing Things Lions don't Normally Do. Currently, a lion was dressed in a business suit, interviewing a man for a cashier position at Qonvenience Quick. Karkat, in the back of his mind, vaguely remembers seeing this episode, because he seemed to recall the previous bit about the dump truck and lederhosen, (he's pretty sure the lion eats the guy).

The door swung open and Nepeta of all people came through the door, balancing a large package in one hand and the rest of the mail in the other. "Alright! About time it came!" She noticed Karkat and dumped the rest of the mail unceremoniously over his head. "Oh, here. Take the rest." She returned her attention to the package. "This is going to be so awesome!"

"Wuh-" Karkat roused himself from his half sleep and shook off the army of advertisements and credit card offers. He was preparing a battery of his finest curses when a splash of bright yellow caught his eye. It was a flyer, which, upon inspection, was adorned with large musical notes, guitars, and Comic Sans:

Karkat stared at this. It occurred to him that after the last clusterfuck that will be forever remembered as the May 11th Incident, they could really use some extra cash for the repair fund. This Battle of the Bnads, as it was so gloriously typo'd, offered prizes. Prizes = money. Money = repairing the second floor banister = favorable Homeowner's Committee review = more money = satisfied Karkat, and everyone knows satisfied Karkat = less yelling = lower blood pressure. Thus, prizes = lower blood pressure.

It was therefore reasonable to arrive at the conclusion that the Battle of the Bnads was more than worth Karkat's time.

This is where Karkat's Master Plan to Make a Few Dollars™ ran into a wall largely constructed of incompetence. He guessed he could sing, and if he remembered correctly Sollux had a pretty sick custom bass, but the extent of his talent was unknown. As far as he knew, nobody in the hive had any actual musical talent. In summary, karkat was hosed unless he could scrounge together a few instruments in five days.

Well, it was worth a shot. Karkat pulled himself from the couch and started toward Sollux's room.

------

"Sollux? Sollux!" Karkat hammered on the Gemini troll's door. "Dammit, Sollux, I need to talk to you!"

Sollux opened the door, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Wow, going thtraight to "dammit'? It'th only nine, you know."

"Cram it, and while your chute is shut, take advantage of the quiet to read this." Karkat thrust the flyer in Sollux's face.

"Uh-huh." Sollux skimmed the few words it had to offer. "They typo'd 'band'," he observed.

"No shit."

"Tho...what doeth thith have to do with me?

"Oh my god. Can't your two brains handle the concept of prize money?"

"I don't follow."

"It's simple." Karkat pulled on a white labcoat and pulled a laser pointer from its pocket, walking up to a chalkboard. Elevator muzak hummed softly in the background. "Observe Figure 1, our bank account we use for home repairs. I have labelled it HOME REPAIR. Now, ever since the May 11th Incident, HOME REPAIR has been running on empty." Karkat grabbed a piece of chalk and crossed out a few dollar signs surrounding a sloppy doodle of a bank. "In exactly six days, the Homeowner's Committee will drop in for their inspection and notice the broken banister in front of Gamzee's block." Karkat hurriedly scribbled in a collection of stickmen, labelled ASSGRABBING INGRATES. One of the ASSGRABBING INGRATES was holding out a dollar sign to another sloppy character, identified as ME. "If they see this mess, they deny us more money." The dollar sign offered by the lead INGRATE was smudged out. ME was given a cartoonish frown. "However, if we participate in this so-called Battle of the Bnads, labelled here as TAINTCHAFE EARFUCK, we can get the money to fix the banister to get more money." The muzak stopped. "Any questions?"

Sollux blinked. "And where do I fit into thith?"

A vein stood out on Karkat's forehead. "Don't you have a bass?"

"Well I haven't touched it in forever."

"Oh, it's not like you'll forget." Karkat lost the labcoat wile no one was looking and pushed Sollux into his block. "Now get it, sit down, and play."

Sollux shrugged. He removed from his closet a double-necked custom with six strings on each neck and the Gemini symbol on the body. He sat down on the edge of his bed and began playing the most hella rocking bass solo Karkat had ever heard.

The scene slowly morphed into a Martian mountaintop, Sollux proudly shredding something uncannybrutal on top; Karkat was at the bottom, staring up in wonder as rays of light danced in the sky. Upon conclusion, which came at the end of a lengthy tapping section and a few low chords, Olympus Mons erupted for the first time in millennia, blanketing the plains of Cydonia in rich, lifegiving carbon. The sound waves radiated throughout the cosmos, ripping through the void as pure energy, delivering a wave of good hope. On Eris, in a lonely mountaintop village, forever blasted by the worst of an eternal snowstorm, the only child will shed a single tear, and know all will be good.

All will be well.

Sollux shrugged. "I gueth I thtill know what I'm doing."

Karkat attempted to get his jaw muscles to work collaboratively. "How can you just- it was- that was- beautiful!"

Sollux returned the guitar to its stand. "It wath okay."

"Okay‽ It was more than just okay!"

"Could've been better."

Karkat sighed. "Look, I don't have time for your self-depreciation. Are you in on this or not?"

"Do I have a choithe?"

"At this point, you probably don't. We need to-" Karkat hastially applied a pair of sunglasses, "-band together."

"You're terrible."

"Shut up."