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In a world where death can happen simply because of your blood color, people tend to flock in small groups of those they trust. A place where you’re a pawn being played by the queen and death can come from all directions, all times, all ways imaginable. In a world where the one you loved would be worlds apart.
Except, maybe this was just how Karkat found the world in his own line of vision. Mutant blood, crab lusus who had been a rejected culling drone, hive far out in the heavy woods where nightmares and horror terrors lurked around every bend and shadow cast by the bright Alternian moons. A lower than lowblood who was much too different to fit into troll society the way his friends do.
Like the mustard blood who had his fancy psiioniics and double fold vision, and voices in his head who became the much loved puppy of the queen. The dead girl who knew all the secrets of his Tyranny and whispered with the spirits who lingered on the edge of your thoughts but never became them. Like the teal blood blind girl with her excelled senses and her training job as Legislasorator and her powerful lusus whose birth tilted the entire fate of their planet. Like the jade blood whose lusus held the Matriorb and the only chance for the mother grub to be re-birthed and how she was a rainbow drinker. Like the beautiful blue blood who had her vision eigthfold and all the luck in the world. Or the violet blood sea dweller who had all the life in the world and his companion, the fuchsia blood who would be the next empress.
He was none of those people, he was bound to end up dead anytime soon. It seemed the days counted down slower than he anticipated, and he spent his days talking to a human a world away- a world he had created, with stars he made himself and was in. He hated him, he thought, because of his childish pranks and dumb laugh, and the stupid face he would text whenever he was too happy. But slowly he felt a smile crawl onto his face when he typed long winded rants to the human boy with his colored blood and the dumb buckteeth and the funny name.
John Egbert, the human boy with a fascination for terrible movies and cheesy oneliners that made Karkat pause in his tracks every time. They were never directed at him, but he couldn’t help but feel this Egbert guy was setting him up. Karkat felt as if he’d grown up with this boy, and if he was honest, he had. He’d spent countless hours, days, months, year online, waiting for him to come online and complain about his day then listen carefully as Karkat weaved a web of lies about his own. Yes, John, I did happen to organize my movie collection (not a lie). No, John, I will not listen to your mold riddled think pan shoot off more pick-up lines that you never even use anyways. Yes, I know you don’t use them, you’d take your dumb pianist fingers and type a long message squealing your human heart out about how ‘gee whizz Karkat, I finally used one of those lines you think are ridiculous yet maybe also a little endearing’ and if you don’t shut the fuck up I will shove my hand through this screen and rip off all your fingers and shove them so far up your ass you’ll be spitting up hangnails for the rest of your short lived life.’
John always ended up laughing for some reason. God, Karkat was so black for this boy. Maybe? Karkat couldn’t tell if the twisting in his gut when John broke news of his current girlfriend was him wanting to throw up in disgust or in heartbreak.
God, Karkat was so flushed for this boy.
This boy, world’s away with a girlfriend and real friends and a life away from Karkat at his computer. Karkat didn’t want him to leave. And when he’d broke down sobbing, spelling errors riddling his messages because fuck fuck fuck he couldn’t see the keyboard, John had immediately become worried. John had been patient, he’d calmed him and it only hurt Karkat more. He wanted this boy to be red for him, not pale! He swore up and down and had a tantrum that ended with him sitting in a corner away from his laptop as John sent message after message.
Karkat wanted to go home. Idiot you are home.
It never feels like it. Karkat’s friends stopped visiting him, but John never did. He’d periodically tell jokes in case Karkat felt like breaking down again, and it usually worked. And Karkat couldn’t feel anything but pure euphoria when John admitted to not only dumping his girlfriend, but being pansexual (because as John had put it long before, humans found a need for sexualities???). He had a chance, god did he have chance? Please please please.
Karkat typed his feelings out in another tab so John wouldn’t have to see multiple messages of him trying to sort his words out. When he’d felt confident enough that his words were written correctly, he copy and pasted and waited. And waited.
And waited.
Waiting.
Why wasn’t John responding? More importantly, why did John just block him? Karkat’s chest hurt. He hurt. Everything hurt. What had he done wrong? John swore he’d never ditch a friend who liked him romantically. Heck, even his buddy, Dave (?) had once tried coming onto him. They still were friends, so why’d he block Karkat? He’d written it all so well, told John how much he pitied the boy, and all he’d gotten for acting on his feelings was a total fist to his face, stomach, chest, heart. Everything. He just wanted to lay down.
John was crying. Bawling would be a more accurate statement. Messaging Karkat back and forth for years had hands down been the highlight of each day, and he always looked forward to messaging the troll a universe away. The cute troll who’d unwillingly sent him a picture when John said he’d send one, too. The cute troll with the cute rants with the cute everything.
John loved this boy, no doubt. He was so sure Karkat liked him back, too. And when Karkat had sent a message in multiple parts trying to explain how he had feelings to get off his chest, John bounced in his seat. If Karkat said he liked him back, he just might cry.
He cried anyways. Pity? Karkat pitied him? John wanted love, not pity. He began wondering if Karkat had always talked with him out of pure pity, even if it seemed like he enjoyed messaging John almost as much as it was vise versa. John had blocked Karkat. He hadn’t meant to, he just did. It was terrifying. He smacked his keyboard to the floor in a fit of impromptu rage and uncontrollable sadness and god oh god he felt like he couldn’t breathe.
He’d crawled onto his bed and tried to ignore the soft glow of his computer monitor until it fell asleep. He fell asleep. He regretted ever trying to make friends with a troll.
A troll. Troll.
Shit, John felt stupid. Trolls were so different from humans, pity could mean something entirely different. He smacked himself in the face repeatedly with a deep sigh. But he figured he could give Karkat the silent treatment a bit longer. Pity.
Why did things have to hurt?
Karkat threw up. He couldn’t bother trying to stand anymore. He’d be over it eventually, he was sure, but at the moment the one person he had in his life not only left him, but blocked him, too. He felt gross. He was gross. He reluctantly stood to shower, spending a solid five minutes scrubbing at his feet in disgust. He sneered when the water went cold, but he made no effort to move from the cold spray.
He’d never truly known how it felt to be alone until now, and he hated it. He hated it he hated John he hated trollian for sending his message successfully he hated himself he hated.
And hated.
And hated some more.
It seemed it was all he was good at anymore. Getting dressed was a hassle, and he sat in his chair with a frown. Shaking his computer mouse, Karkat really hoped he’d see a message in obnoxious blue sating ‘just kidding!’. He’d settle for a stupid fucking emoji, too. He was disappointed to see it was still the same message. Blocked. Karkat felt like a hollow shell and he wondered if he stepped outside would he be blown away? He wouldn’t be surprised.
He recuperacoon was welcoming in a hallowing way, and as he sat in the slime, eyes glued to his computer screen, he wondered if he’d messed up too bad to fix it anymore.
John hurt. And hurt. And hurt. He sort of expected it at this point. Time zones were a bitch, too, so there went chances of messaging his friends. He wished Dave hadn’t decided to visit Rose, because then he might still be up to talk to. He settled for wondering if he’d overreacted. He had debated the idea of it being a cultural difference, chalking it up to that if no others options arose.
He was out of options.
John dragged his blanket wrapped around his shoulders over to his computer chair, heavily sitting in it. If felt like it’d been forever since he’d last sat in it, when really, it couldn’t have been more than a few hours. Was it really that long? Looking to the clock confirmed John’s suspicions as he stared at the red numbers. When it switched to a new time, he looked back to his computer. Still blocked.
Hadn’t trolls had a way around that?
John couldn’t remember anymore. He felt so dull and lost without his friend. His really cute friend with the grumpy scowl on that only made his button nose and chubby cheeks cuter and oh god he really liked Karkat. Like, in a gay way. It sounded stupid when he said it to himself both in his head and out loud, so he shook his head to dislodge the thought.
Not in a gay-way, in a love way. He really wanted to be able to say a bunch gushy stuff without being brushed off as dumb because ‘honestly, john, if someone fell for those pathetic lines, they’d be a vegetable’. John had laughed, but it ended quickly. He really wanted Karkat to get flustered. John could only imagine what he’d look like, and he whined. He’d fucked up so bad.
Hitting the unblock button was like pressing a button to doom your planet and its fate and it made his heart twist almost as much. But now it was a waiting game. Who messaged who first? John wasn’t first, and he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. A very bad thing. The paragraph of writing told him John must have been thinking of what to say for so long that Karkat managed to type close to a novel. His eyes blurred too much for him to be able to properly read the entire thing, and he mostly skimmed.
Essentially, Karkat stated that he had no idea what he’d did wrong but he really wanted John to explain.
So he took a breath and did.
Karkat braced himself for a yelling. He was scared. He was trying. Trying to understand what John had explained. Humans had one quadrant. Er, relationship. It wasn’t much of a quadrant. This quadrant revolved solely around love (what?) and was super important to people’s lives when they had one. Pity was almost never good, and he wasn’t sure if it was for trolls. For humans, being told people pitied you was sad and disappointing. Karkat choked.
He’d told John he’d pitied him more than possible. John probably was hurt exponentially more than Karkat had hurt.
Shit.
Karkat frowned. Love. Love love love. Humans did love. Karkat could learn if it meant John was happy. Karkat switched and took up his side explaining that pity, on the other hand, was the closest equivalent to humans love. Brief explanation that there was four quadrants, and flushed was the red one. The heart one. John quickly understood. Karkat wanted to faint. Please please please let him return the feelings.
John sent a smile emoticon that Karkat hoped was bigger in real life.
EB: well in that case, i really pity you, too.
EB: <3!
Karkat slammed his head into his desk and grinned. This boy would be the end of him.
And he was okay with that.