Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

==> Be the Troll boy

You sit cross-legged on the grass, leaning against a cold, stone wall as you wait for your friend to return to her cave. You long for the warmth of your hive, where you have more than on electrical output to power your various devices, where your meals aren’t brought to you by a blood-stained Troll girl only a bit older than you. Your name is Karkat Vantas, and your friend is Nepeta Leijon, an olive-blood who is currently retrieving your forged entry papers in preparation for your move to the Imperial City.

The City is kind of like a stepping stone between Alternia and the various, off-planet colonies. It’s where Trolls can train to join one of the military sectors, or choose to remain on-planet doing admin work and helping to prepare the next generations. Of course the adult Trolls have nothing to do with you until you actually go there; all of their interaction with you is done through the drones. You’re not sure which of the two scares you the most, part of you almost wishes that the Empress had gone through with her threat to banish all adult Trolls from the planet.

You still have a couple of weeks until you turn nine sweeps, the age at which all young Trolls leave their wiggler hives and make the journey to live in the City. You should still be preparing along with the rest of your neighbourhood, but instead you packed up your things four nights ago and moved in with Nepeta, so that the two of you could leave for the City together. This wasn’t your choice of course, you would have preferred to go with the others in your caste like a normal Troll, but your mutant blood means that there are no others of your caste.

With the exception of Terezi, Gamzee and now Nepeta, none of your friends know your blood colour. You’ve spent your whole life concealing it; perfecting your awareness so that you don’t get cut, learning to control your emotions so you don’t flush too much in anger or embarrassment. But getting past the drones was one thing you always knew would be impossible, so you needed to devise a plan to sneak into the city.

That is why you had to move in with Nepeta. Vantas is a name typically borne by olive-bloods, which you assume is what your blood colour should have been, you know, if you weren’t a huge freak of nature. Your horns too are characteristic of that caste; short and thick, much like Nepeta’s, even if they are ‘nubby’ as your friends describe them. Therefore, it should in principle be easy for you to slip past unnoticed, so long as you have the correct paperwork proving that you are indeed an olive-blood.

Nepeta offered to vouch for you as a hatchmate, but those are so incredibly rare that it would draw too much attention, most likely from the scientific community who would immediately blow your cover. At least this way you get to keep your name, even if you do have to don the symbol of a Troll that Vriska recently fed to her Lusus. It should only be until you are in the City though, then you can fall back in to your comfortable anonymity.

“Karkitty!” You hear Nepeta’s voice from somewhere to your left, accompanied by the thudding of her Lusus as it bounds towards you.

The huge meowbeast skids to a halt a few feet away, both mouths panting as its rider dismounts.

“I got our papers Karcat!” The girl announces happily, holding an envelope out to you.

“Thanks Nepeta,” You stand up and take it, “I know it must have been risky for you to do this.”

“Not really, I just gave them our names and they handed the papers over, they didn’t even ask what your real blood colour was.”

Both of you open your envelopes, breathing a sigh of relief when the words ‘olive caste’ and ‘approved’ jump out at you from amongst the other, official-looking waffle on the page. It’s mostly a list of rules and regulations, along with an explanation of how your particular community will be expected to enter the City. Of course, for anyone other than Highbloods, this part basically says ‘make your own way there and don’t be late for enrolment’, but does include a helpful list of suggested travel options.

“Are we still taking the shuttlebug?” You ask as you follow Nepeta back into her cave-hive.

“Yep,” She replies, her voice chipper but with a hint of anticipation, “it should arrive at the edge of the woods just after sunset.”

“We’re going to have to get up so fucking early.” You groan, rubbing your eyes as if the mere thought of getting up before the sun sets is making you tired.

“You could always have a catnap if we get there before the bug, I won’t leave you behind, I promise.” She says the last part so sincerely, like you actually have doubts that she’d abandon you.

Nepeta has insisted that she’s over her flush-crush on you now, but sometimes you catch her watching you when she thinks you’re not looking, or standing closer to you than she really should be. You would say something, but you don’t want to upset her. You also wouldn’t want to incur the wrath of her power-crazed, blue-blood Moirail, who you’re pretty sure is at least 20 hands tall.

Whilst reading over your letter again, you feel something push against your shoulder, something that’s fluffy and smells of stale meat. Nepeta may have learned to be subtle with her advances, but her Lusus, Pounce de Leon, most definitely has not. She follows you around whenever she can’t be near Nepeta and tries to lick you on a regular basis. Sometimes you appreciate her presence, especially at the times when you miss Crabdad the most, but a furry meowbeast isn’t really a substitute for a hard-shelled crustacean. You can’t wait until you can hear his familiar click-clacks again.

Usually, a young Troll would leave their Lusus behind when they move, but you recently learned of something called a ‘Lusus Licence’, which permits you to bring your guardian with you. However, these licences are incredibly expensive, meaning that the only ones who can afford them are top-tier Highbloods, or those who have been extremely successful in other money-making endeavours. One of these is FLARPing, which is what allowed Vriska to acquire both a licence and accommodation for her over-sized arachnid of a Lusus.

You were convinced that you would have to leave yours behind, as would Tavros and Terezi. Then about a week before Terezi was due to move, Gamzee announced that he and the ‘fish motherfuckers’ – aka Eridan and Feferi – had clubbed together to arrange some licences and temporary accommodation for your three Lusi. Feferi had been hinting about helping for weeks – having already bought one for Sollux when he moved with her – and Gamzee doesn’t bat an eyelid at spending money on the stupidest things. But you were honestly surprised that Eridan agreed to help, considering his apparent desire to kill all land-dwellers. Equius was conveniently ‘too busy’ to lend his assistance to anyone except Nepeta, but he’s a bigger asshole than you, so you wouldn’t want his money anyway.

Crabdad was collected from your hive two nights ago, and you had hoped that Gamzee would be the one to gain provisional ownership of him, but Crabdad is technically supposed to be a semi-aquatic creature so he fell under Eridan’s jurisdiction. This confused you at first, since Gamzee’s Lusus spends most of his time in the sea and Eridan’s spends most of his time flying around in the air, but apparently it’s more to do with the caste of their Troll than the species of the Lusus themselves. Eridan may be your friend, but you’re going to kill him if anything happens to Crabdad.

“Have you heard from Terezi lately?” Nepeta asks suddenly.

She’s trying to sound casual, but she’s wearing what you like to call her ‘shipping face’, where she’s just waiting to know if anything has ‘become cannon’ between her friends. You really thought she would have grown out of this by now.

“No,” you reply nonchalantly, “have you?”

“Not since she told us she’d got there safely, maybe you should message her, just to check that we’re still okay to share her hive?”

Being two of the least-affluent members in your circle of friends, you and Nepeta arranged to be Terezi’s blockmates until you can get some decent lodgings of your own. Nepeta will probably move in with Equius at some point, and you’ll hopefully qualify for the one of the free rooms at the Threshecutioner academy, assuming you even pass the entrance tests and they don’t somehow find out that you’re a mutant.

“Yeah sure.”

If you had told Nepeta to do it, she would have probably assumed that you were nervous about talking to Terezi, because of your unrequited flushed feelings or some bullshit like that. Yes at one point you might have felt a little red for her, and yes if you hadn’t been an asshole and denied it there may have been something there, but it just didn’t work out and you’re honestly not as bothered as people think you are.

You pull out your palmhusk and open Trollian, which fortunately still works in the city, thanks to Sollux.

carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling gallowsCalibrator [GC]

CG: HEY TEREZI.
GC: H1 K4RK3LS!
GC: H4V3 YOU GUYS L3FT Y3T?
CG: NOT YET, WE'RE LEAVING TOMORROW.
CG: NEPETA ASKED ME TO CHECK THAT WE'RE STILL OKAY TO STAY WITH YOU.
GC: OF COURS3 YOU 4R3!
GC: T4VROS 1S ST4Y1NG FOR A B1T TOO WH3N H3 G3TS H3R3, JUST UNT1L G4MZ33 C4N G3T P3RM1SSION FOR H1M TO MOV3 1N
CG: ARE YOU SURE THERE'S ENOUGH SPACE FOR THE FOUR OF US?
GC: W3LL TH3R3 4R3 ONLY TWO R3SP1T3BLOCKS, BUT 34CH ON3 H4S TWO R3CUP3R4COONS SO W3 SHOULD B3 4LR1GHT
GC: 1'M DOWNGR4DING ONC3 YOU GUYS MOV3 OUT THOUGH, 1 W4NT TO B3 CLOS3R TO TH3 L3G1SL4C3R4TOR 4C4D3MY
CG: GOOD IDEA.
CG: I CAN'T BELIEVE WE'RE ACTUALLY GOING TO BE THERE SOON, IT’S CRAZY.
GC: Y34H, YOU 4R3 GO1NG TO B3 SO 3XCIT3D, 1 S4W TH3 THR3SHOCUT1ON3R PL4C3 Y3ST3RD4Y 4ND 1T 1S SO COOL! >:D
CG: WHAT WERE YOU DOING OVER THERE? ISN’T YOUR ACEDEMY ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE RIVER?
GC: MY N31GHBOUR W4S T4K1NG M3 ON 4 TOUR, 1 TOLD H3R TH4T YOU W3R3 GOING TO GO TH3R3 SO SH3 SHOW3D M3 WH3R3 1T 1S
GC: TH4T W4Y 1 C4N H3LP YOU WH3N YOU G3T LOST >;]
CG: OH HA HA VERY FUNNY
CG: I GET A BIT CONFUSED ONE FUCKING TIME AND SUDDENLY EVERYONE TREATS ME LIKE I CAN’T EVEN NAVIGATE MY OWN HIVE!
GC: YOU 4LMOST W4LK3D OFF OF 4 CL1FF!
CG: BUT I DIDN’T *ACTUALLY* FALL!
GC: ONLY B3C4US3 MR. 4PPL3B3RRY S4W YOU!
CG: I WOULD HAVE BEEN FINE WITHOUT SOLLUX, IN FACT I PROBABLY WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER OFF, HE SCARED ME HALF TO DEATH JUST PICKING ME UP LIKE THAT WITH HIS STUPID PSIONICS AFTER GIVING ME NO WARNING WHATSOVER.
GC: WH4T3V3R YOU S4Y K4RKL3S
CG: UGH
CG: SO, WHAT’S THIS NEIGHBOUR OF YOURS LIKE?
GC: SH3’S 4 T34L L1K3 M3 4ND SH3 1S TOT4LLY 4W3SOM3! SH3 3V3N W4NTS TO B3 4 L3G1SL4C3R4TOR TOO!
CG: GOOD, WE NEED TO START NETWORKING. DON’T GO GETTING TOO FRIENDLY WITH HER THOUGH, NOT UNTIL WE KNOW SHE CAN BE TRUSTED.
GC: DON’T WORRY 1 C4N T3LL WH3N P3OPL3 4R3 LYING, 1T M4K3S TH3M SM3LL DIRTY
GC: BUT SH3 W4S 4S CL34N 4S A N3WBORN GRUB!
CG: EW, ALRIGHT, BUT BE CAREFUL.
GC: K4RK4T 1 4M NOT A W1GGL3R, 1 C4N 4CTU4LLY T4K3 C4R3 OF MYS3LF
GC: UNL1K3 SOM3ON3 >;]
CG: OH WHATEVER!
CG: ANYWAY, I NEED TO MAKE SURE I HAVE ALL OF MY SHIT TOGETHER FOR TOMORROW, SO I’LL SEE YOU IN A FEW NIGHTS I GUESS.
GC: H3H3, S33 YOU SOON!

carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased trolling gallowsCalibrator [GC]

She just had to bring up your little ‘excursion’ didn’t she? You only got lost because the map you were using had their FLARPing shit scribbled all over it, you would have totally noticed that the cliff was there. Probably. At least she sounds like she’s doing alright; you were worried about how she would adjust, considering she’d lived on her own in a forest for her whole life. You’ll need to investigate this ‘neighbour’ though, for all of your sakes.

By the time you look up from your screen, Nepeta has settled down next to Pounce with her tablet, no doubt working on transferring he last of her ‘shipping wall’ into a digital format. You tell her what Terezi said, including about Tavros coming to stay, which Nepeta seems every excited about. Then you decaptchalogue your husktop and open one of the various movies you have saved on it, picking one of your favourites to pass the time until you have to go to sleep. You just want to get tomorrow over with already.

Chapter Text

==> Karkat, receive correspondence.

You are woken abruptly by your palmhusk vibrating itself across the floor, alerting you to a new message. You didn’t really sleep much, seeing as you had to make-do with a pile of smelly animal pelts instead of sopor and a recuperacoon, but when you look at the time, you realise you were going to need to be awake soon anyway.

Now, which one of your so-called friends is messaging you at this time in the evening?

caligulasAquarium [CA] began trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG]

CA: hey kar
CA: i knoww youre probably not awwake yet
CA: but wwhen you are i thought youd like to knoww that your lusus is here safe and sound
CG: HEY ERIDAN.
CG: THANKS FOR LETTING ME KNOW
CG: ALSO THANKS FOR WAKING ME UP ASSHOLE.
CA: wwell good evvenin to you too kar
CA: wwe dont talk for wweeks an this is wwhat i get
CG: DUDE IT’S BEEN LIKE TEN NIGHTS AT MOST
CG: AND FOR YOUR INFORMATION, I DID ACTUALLY SEND YOU A MESSAGE A FEW NIGHTS AGO BUT I GUESS YOU WERE TOO FUCKING BUSY WITH YOUR NEW HIGHBLOOD FRIENDS TO BOTHER REPLYING.
CA: you knoww it aint like that
CA: i wwouldvve replied if i saww it but i must a been busy wwith academy stuff
CA: youll understand wwhen you start your trainin
CG: YEAH YEAH CRY ME A FUCKING RIVER, I KNOW YOU GOT FAST-TRACKED BECAUSE OF YOUR ORPHANER WORK, I BET ALL YOU DO IS SIT ON YOUR ASS AND BOSS PEOPLE AROUND.
CA: in my fuckin DREAMS maybe
CA: if anythin bein fast-tracked has made it wworse cause people think im some privvileged brat wwho bought his wway in
CG: BUT ERIDAN, YOU *ARE* A PRIVILEGED BRAT.
CA: not in the wway they think
CA: they dont understand and they wwont givve me a chance to explain
CA: its fuckin awwful kar
CA: at least ill havve someone my owwn age to talk to wwhen you get in
CG: WHAT DO YOU MEAN?
CA: wwell evveryone in my classes is older than me by like twwo swweeps
CG: NO ABOUT HAVING SOMEONE TO TALK TO, WHY WILL IT BE ME?
CA: oh didnt ter tell you
CA: my academy is right nextdoor to yours so i can vvisit you wwhenevver i like
CA: youd need permission to vvisit me though obvviously
CG: OH MY FUCKING GOD SERIOUSLY?
CG: I’M NOT SURE IF I SHOULD BE RELIEVED OR CONCERNED TO BE LIVING NEAR YOU.
CA: relievved wwould be nice
CG: CONCERNED IT IS THEN
CA: wwell I wwas actually lookin forwwards to spendin more time wwith you
CA: wwe only had like one movvie night evvery perigee or somethin and it feels like fuckin ages since ivve been able to talk to you in person
CG: YEAH OK IT DID SUCK THAT WE HAD TO TRAVEL FOR LIKE A WHOLE NIGHT TO GET TO EACH OTHER’S HIVES.
CG: BUT MAN IT’S GOING TO BE WEIRD HAVING EVERYONE SO CLOSE TOGETHER.
CA: cept for fef
CA: shes pretty much stuck in the palace
CG: AND SOLLUX WILL PROBABLY BE THERE ALL THE TIME TOO.
CA: oh cod dont remind me
CG: LOOK I KNOW YOU TWO HAVE HAD YOUR DIFFERENCES, BUT EVEN YOU HAVE TO ADMIT THAT IF NOTHING ELSE THEY’LL BE GOOD PROTECTION FOR EACH OTHER.
CG: FEFERI WOULD NEVER LET SOLLUX BE FORCED INTO BECOMING A HELMSMAN, AND HE WOULD BLAST THE SHIT OUT OF ANYONE WHO TRIED TO HURT HER.
CA: i guess
CA: if shes happy then thats all that matters
CG: DUDE YOU’RE NOT HER MOIRAIL ANYMORE.
CA: i knoww that but it wwont stop me from carin
CG: FOR FUCKS SAKE ERIDAN.
CG: YOU’RE ALMOST PITIABLE, YOU KNOW THAT?
CA: only almost
CG: YES, BULGELICK.
CA: wwell havve to sea aboat that
CG: DON’T YOU DARE EMBARRASS ME.
CA: sorry i dont take orders from landdwwellers
CG: I SWEAR TO GOD ERIDAN, IF YOU MAKE SO MUCH AS A SINGLE ‘MOVE’ ON ME, I WILL SHOVE THE NEAREST BLUNT INSTRUMENT UP YOUR ASS
CG: AND NOT IN *THAT* WAY.
CA: wwoww
CA: calm dowwn kar i wwas jokin
CG: YEAH, I KNEW THAT, SO WAS I.
CA: of course you wwere
CA: noww let me knoww wwhen youre here and ill get eq to come wwith me to meet you
CA: then wwe can givve the twwo a you a lift to your hivve
CG: YOU REALLY DON’T HAVE TO.
CA: oh but i really do
CA: sea you later kar

caligulasAquarium [CA] ceased trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG]

Great, just what you needed. As if it wasn’t enough that you might get caught for forgery, you’re now going to be carried off by a sea-dweller as soon as you step foot inside. You could just not tell Eridan when you get in, but you bet he and Equius will be waiting for you, and if you object it will just make even more of a scene.

Reluctantly, you pull yourself out of the pile of warm furs to have a shower and get dressed, a task that takes far longer than it should have because you are still half-asleep. Just as you manage to finally get your shirt on the right way – not inside out or backwards as it has been the last three times you’ve put it on – you hear Nepeta’s alarm go off, and quickly pull on your pants before she emerges from her respiteblock, which is located in a separate little section of the cave.

She darts past you draped in a towel, leaving a trail of sopor in her wake; something she does every evening judging from the stains on the floor. The first couple of days were rather awkward, making each other turn around or stand outside whenever one of you wasn’t fully clothed, but now you just make sure to always keep some sort of snuggleplane in your Sylladex to cover yourself. You guess it’s good practice for when you’re sharing a hive with three other Trolls. You’ll have to share a block with someone too, probably Tavros which won’t be too bad.

When Nepeta is finished getting ready, the two of you eat some grubloaf for breakfast and then she sets about making you look like an olive-blood. First up is a layer of concealer to stop your blood colour showing through, and then she dusts across your nose and cheeks with an appropriately coloured blusher, so that it doesn’t seem like you have no blood at all. The contacts take a few tries and sting like hell, your eyes watering so much that Nepeta has to redo your make-up afterwards, but eventually you get them in.

It feels strange to see yourself looking so...olive. Not a bright red that you have to hide or deathly grey so people start to worry, but a normal yellow-green colour. It looks pretty natural too, you conclude, after standing side-by side with Nepeta in front of the mirror. You guess your assumption that you should have been in the same caste as her was correct. Nepeta seems to agree that it suits you, or maybe she’s just thrilled to see you wearing her blood colour, something that’s usually restricted to quadrant-mates.

“Are you ready?” She asks as you stand at the mouth of the now empty cave.

She had been keeping so upbeat about everything, just like always, but now the cracks were beginning to show. You know exactly how she’s feeling – after all, you went through it a few nights ago with leaving your own hive – so you give her a reassuring nod and pat her shoulder. She tries to smile, but after only a few seconds it falters, pale green tears begging to slip down her cheeks. Pounce licks them away, nuzzling Nepeta’s face and making sad-sounding noises.

This must be difficult for her too, she’s probably lived here even longer than Nepeta, perhaps raised grubs here before, or her own Lusus offspring. It makes you wonder how Crabdad was, when some Troll he barely knew turned up to cart him away. You feel guilty about leaving him, but it’s not forever, and you’re glad that Eridan was there to make sure he was picked up safely – you don’t trust those delivery drones.

“We should get going.” You say, as Nepeta dries the last of her tears.

She nods and starts walk away with you, but after a few steps she grabs your arm.

“Wait,” She says, taking hold of your other hand when you turn to face her, “Karkit – I mean, Karkat – thank you.”

You’re going to ask ‘for what?’ but before you can open your mouth to speak, it becomes preoccupied with being pressed against Nepeta’s. She pulls back a second later, cheeks flushed slightly and a smile on her face.

“I’m sorry, I wanted to see what it was like, just once,” Then her expression turns sombre again, “in case I didn’t get another chance.”

You blink a few times to wipe the surprise from your face, “It’s alright, and I should be the one thanking you for putting up with me.”

She laughs again, and then cries again, but after a couple of minutes she’s back to her cheerful self, chatting happily as you make your way to the shuttlebug stop. It was a bit of a shock, but it wasn’t unpleasant, and it was more of an extended pale kiss than a full on flushed one. A few sweeps ago you might have shouted at her for just kissing you like that, but you can understand why she did it. Everyone keeps saying that you’ve ‘mellowed out’, but you prefer to think that everyone’s just gotten used to each other’s bullshit by now.

Plus, it’s not like it was your first kiss or anything, and since she’s been Moirails with Equius for most of her life you’re guessing it wasn’t hers either. No, your first kiss – flushed, pale or otherwise – was with Eridan, of all Trolls. Not Gamzee, who you were actually Moirails with at the time, but Eridan. It was when you were both about six sweeps old, at one of your regular movie nights. Eridan was having problems with Feferi and after listening to him whine about it for an hour, you’d decided a distraction might be better and let him choose something to watch.

You don’t remember what the movie was about, only that at one point there was the soppiest flushed confession you’d ever heard. It was during this scene that you and Eridan ended up holding hands – you still have no idea how this happened, but you have a feeling it was your accidental doing – and when you both realised, he decided to kiss you. You hadn’t planned it at all, and whenever Eridan brings it up you insist that he did most of the instigating, but it wasn’t half bad as far as first kisses go.

The best part was that afterwards, the first thing he said was, “You’re really hot Kar.” But then he got all embarrassed and tried to back-pedal by saying, “I-I mean your actual temperature, not like you being attractive – wwhich you are, b-but I didn’t mean it in that wway. Oh Cod I’m sorry.”

He’d spent the next ten minutes apologising, and you’d spent them telling him to stop. Out of all the times he’s been a pathetic loser, you really had to fight not to pity him with that one.

Then whilst you are lost in your thoughts, wandering along the path between the trees a few paces behind Nepeta, you walk into something solid and fall flat on your ass.

“Shit!” You grip your shoulder, which was the part of you that took most of the impact.

“Ow!” Whines an unfamiliar voice.

You look up at what you thought would be a tree, and instead see a young Troll girl sitting in front of you, rubbing her arm. Nepeta runs back to your side, crossing paths with her Lusus, who lunges at the other girl. You close your eyes so you don’t have to watch the attack, bracing your ears for the sound of...laughter? You open your eyes to see that rather than mauling her, Pounce is rubbing herself over the other Troll, licking her face and purring, like she does with Nepeta.

“Furlina?!” Nepeta gasps, as the girl manages to escape from Pounce’s affection and stand up.

She looks kind of like Nepeta, with similarly short and dumpy horns, but she’s at least a hand taller than both of you and has long, messy hair.

“Hey Nepeta.” She says with a wave.

Nepeta jumps up and pulls the girl into a hug, “I thought you’d left last night, I saw the drones and efurrything!”

“That was Clawra, I sent her ahead of me to stay with Paluta.”

You have no idea what they’re talking about; you’ve never heard any of these names before.

“How do you know each other?” You ask when Nepeta releases ‘Furlina’ – you’re not sure what her actual name is.

“We met last sweep and now we’re hunting buddies!” Nepeta announces, linking arms with the girl.

“I’m Felina, Felina Vixren.” She adds, extending her hand out to you. “And you are?”

“Karkat Vantas.” You shake hands with her, grateful that both of you are wearing gloves due to the recent cold weather.

“Oh so you’re the famous Karkitty.” Felina says, giving Nepeta a sly smile, then she looks back at you and raises an eyebrow, “I thought you were haemoanonymous?”

Good Gods above, just how much as Nepeta told this girl? At least she said you were famous and not infamous you guess.

“Yeah, well you can’t hide from the drones, right?” You reply with a shrug.

She nods. “Fair enough. Are you guys taking the shuttle?”

“Yep!” Nepeta says, walking between the two of you as you continue towards the other side of the forest.

“What about Pounce? Did your Moirail not come through with the licence?”

“Nope, the drone is picking her up from the shuttlebug stop.”

“Ah, clever.” Felina runs her hand along Pounce’s back as the creature pads past her.

They talk pretty much non-stop the whole way, which is fine by you as it lets you gather Intel on this Felina girl. You learn that Clawra is her Lusus, and Paluta is her cerulean-blooded Moirail, who moved to the City last sweep. She seems harmless enough, and she doesn’t know what Trollian is or even own a husktop, which explains why you’ve never heard of her. She apparently met – or has talked to – Equius at some point though.

You’re the first ones to reach the shuttlebug stop, but as Nepeta says goodbye to Pounce and loads her onto the drone carrier, another 10 or so Trolls join you by the side of the road. A couple of them also send their Lusi ahead, the others either leaving theirs behind or having already shipped them off. Everyone is bundled up in coats and scarves, and you all retreat back under the trees when it starts to absolutely pour with rain.

Then salvation arrives in the form of a large, black shuttlebug, its carapace shimmering as water runs down the sides. You’ve never been in any sort of scuttlebug before, but they’re just as your schoolfeeding grubs described; huge, rectangular organisms with lots of grub-like legs. Self-piloting and not technically alive – in a similar way to husktops – they’re reliable enough to have remained incredibly popular on Alternia for millennia. Scuttlebugs are the personal variety, whereas the larger forms are used for public transport, like the shuttlebug you are about to board.

This one must have left the depot quite early, as it still has its dayguard shutters down over the windows. Although, once the first person has swiped their card and opened the doors, the shutters slowly fold away. You retrieve the card that came with your entry papers and line up, holding your breath as it reaches your turn. Nepeta waits at the top of the steps after the doors close behind her, watching you run your card through the slot on the outer carapace.

It only takes a second to register, but your blood pusher is in your throat until the doors open to allow you on. You breathe a sigh of relief and hop up to join her. Your first hurdle is over with; the card works on public transport at least. Now you just have to get through a three-night journey on a bus filled with other Trolls. Gods help you.

You spend a few hours talking to Nepeta and Felina, until the shuttlebug stops off next to a small, square building. Everyone gets off as the bug shuts down, eager to see what’s inside before it starts up again and leaves. The building looked pretty basic from the outside, and this is also true for the interior; nothing but some vending machines, a couple of benches and several very basic ablutionblocks. Actually you’re not sure they qualify as ablutionblocks, seeing as they only have a sink, a load gaper and a mirror.

You take this opportunity to fix your make-up, which is something you never thought you would be doing, especially in a crappy little service stop by the side of the road. Then as Nepeta finishes buying some extra supplies, the shuttlebug begins to beep, alerting you to the fact that it is preparing to depart. You all line up again, quickly swiping your cards and piling back on.

The rest of the night has a similar tune to it, with the stops occurring about every three hours. You use the last of these stops to replace your contact with sunglasses, and thankfully nobody asks any questions. Then as morning starts to roll around, the shutters go down over the windows, and you try to make yourself comfortable enough in your seat to get a decent amount of shuteye.

Chapter Text

==> Karkat, wake up.

Your olive-blooded companion is still bundled up in her snuggleplane the next evening, so when the shuttlebug pulls over for the first stop of the night, you wake her up to stop her whining about needing a piss later. You both change your clothes in the ablutionblocks – as well as re-doing your make-up and contacts – but it’s not really noticeable after you put your outerwear back on. You don’t remember the last time it was this cold so late in the 6^th dark season, and it only gets colder the closer you go to the City.

You spend the rest of the night sandwiched between the girls, watching movies on your husktop and eating the junk food you bought at the last few stops. It turns out that Felina has a love for romance stories, just like you, and after your husktop's battery runs out she begins searching through her Sylladex for a few books to show you.

“This is one of my favourites,” She says, passing you a rather thick tome titled ‘Honour and Haemospectrum’, “it’s got a lot of quadrant vacillation, but it’s mostly redrom.”

The next one she hands you is called ‘Eighty Shades of Violet’, and seems to be based on the relationship between Mindfang and Dualscar. You wonder if their descendants have heard of it.

“Eighty Shades is blackrom with a bit of red here and there, it’s kind of explicit though so I don’t recommend reading it in public.” She gives you a wink before retrieving yet another novel, “Here we have a typical Moirails to Matesprits thing, it’s got decent comedy too, not the cliché crap they usually have.”

‘Pale-Zoned’ is the name of this one, but you might give it a miss for now. After having to witness the failed pale-to-red fiascos between your friends – namely the sea-dwellers and Kanaya and Vriska – you wouldn’t really enjoy reading about someone getting it right. She then struggles with her paw print modus for several minutes, before finally locating the last book.

“Aha here it is; Fins with Benefits, it’s got all the quadrants, I’ve read it like five times.”

You take the book from her and lay it across your lap with the others to admire them. They’ve all got roughed-up covers, with white creases down the spines and fraying edges, the pages curling up a little around the corners. It’s been ages since you read a book from start to finish, but she must read them all the time since she doesn’t have a husktop.

“I don’t expect you to read them all in like a night though, so you can just hang on to those.”

“What, like permanently?” You ask, putting the well-loved books in a pile.

“Yeah of course,” She replies with a smile, “those are my old copies; I’ve got first editions of them all now.”

“Oh, thanks.” You try to override your surprise with gratitude. It feels strange to be given things free of charge, especially by someone you’ve only know for a couple of nights.

“No problem Kitty.”

‘Kitty’ is the nickname she’s decided to give you. It’s demeaning and you hate it, but with Nepeta to back her up, it’s managed to stick.

Speaking of Nepeta, this is when she chooses to insert herself into the conversation, “Are they all about sea-dwellers?”

“Maybe.” Felina says quickly, a slight green colouring her nose.

Nepeta laughs, and then leans close to you, “Furlina’s got a thing for sea-dwellers.” You thought she was going to whisper, but she says it loud enough that the people in front probably heard.

“I do not!” Felina protests, her blush steadily growing more vivid, “I just think that they’re interesting plot devices is all!”

Nepeta scoffs, “Yeah right!”

Felina rolls her eyes and then buries her face in a newer-looking book, titled ‘Wuthering Depths’, no doubt also about sea Trolls. Nepeta watches her with narrowed eyes, but eventually gets the message and slumps back in her seat, decaptchaloguing her husktop. With yours out of power still, you instead pick up the first book and begin to read.

It’s slow going to begin with, and the romance doesn’t kick in for several chapters, but the characters are quirky enough to keep you interested. You end up getting so into the story, that you don’t even notice how late it’s becoming until the shutters go down. Grudgingly tearing yourself away from the romantic plight of Ezbeth Bennet, you captchalogue the books and wrap yourself up in your snuggleplane – after swapping places with Nepeta so that she and Felina can share theirs – falling asleep almost as soon as you close your eyes.

Chapter Text

==> Karkat, oversleep.

You wake up when the moons are already high in the sky, feeling stiff from the awkward position your neck ended up in over the day. Your eyes are really dry too; you must have left your contacts in by accident. Then the shuttlebug goes over a rock and knocks your head against the window, bringing you fully out of your sleepy haze. You rub your head and stretch, captchaloging the snuggleplane after you untangle yourself from it.

“I thought you said you’d wake me up.” You mumble to Nepeta, who is already awake and messing around on her palmhusk.

“But you looked so peaceful.” she replies innocently.

“I doubt it.” You yawn.

Between the weird dreams and tiny crack of sunlight creeping in through your shutter, you certainly didn’t feel peaceful. You turn to face the window and discreetly put in some of the eye drops that came with the contacts. It eases the discomfort a little, but you’ll be glad when you don’t have to wear them all night every night. Of course you’ll still have to use them at the academy, but having people looking at your eyes will be the least of your worries there.

“Look, it’s the wall!” Someone shouts from down the front, spurring everyone to stand up and run to the right side of the shuttlebug.

You kneel on the seat behind Nepeta, looking over her head at the horizon. At first you don’t see anything, but then a series of black spikes appear against the sky, followed by a solid, grey wall. What you are looking at is an immense barrier that surrounds the outer borders of the Imperial City, with only two gates that are both heavily guarded. You are heading to the North gate, which will put you on the correct side of the river – which practically splits the City down the middle – to get to your new hive.

The three of you have your eyes glued to the window, watching the wall rise slowly in the distance. You can feel yourself starting to shake, mostly out of nervousness but also excitement, anticipation for the next chapter of your life to begin. All you need to do is get past the gate, not look suspicious, hand over your fake papers, and walk on through. You have to be positive about this, for once in your miserable existence you have to be positive Karkat.

Then you get quickly get bored and return to your book. You’re almost to the part where you think the stoic sea-dweller might be about to confess to Jade-blooded Ezbeth, when the shuttlebug grinds to a halt and the doors slide open. You take a deep breath and captchalogue the book, making sure you’ve picked up all of your stuff before following Nepeta off of the shuttle.

You let out an involuntary gasp when you see the sheer magnitude of the gates; they’re the height of at least ten Imperial Drones – which are standing in rows at either side – and thicker than the blast casing on a battleship. The rest of the shuttlebugs drop off their passengers and then depart back the way they came, leaving an eerie stillness in their wake. You hate that Imperial Drones don’t make any noise unless they move, you’d heard about it through schoolfeeding but it’s much creepier in person.

All of the olive-bloods – and you – gather in the middle of the road, the occasional whisper passing between friends and neighbours, as you wait for something to tell you what you should do. Then as one of the Drones creaks into life, the whole crowd flinches and goes silent. The Drone marches to the gate, pressing a clawed appendage against the lock. After a series of clicks, the gate opens inwards with a painfully loud whine, revealing a sort of courtyard with several booths and then another, smaller, gate.

The Drone moves back into position, standing to attention along with the others as a green light appears above the booths. The crowd slowly wanders forwards, filing into lines as you approach the booths. Nepeta grabs the back of Felina’s coat and the front of your sleeve, creating a chain to prevent you from getting separated. You end up near the back of your queue, but this gives you time to prepare your paperwork.

Apparently there aren’t any actual Trolls controlling this system, instead you present your papers to a specially bred grub – a different species of grub to that of young Trolls – which will then approve you for entry and leave a seal, or declare you a fake and incapacitate you with its venom, the latter most likely resulting in a very prompt culling.

The line filters down far more quickly than you would have liked, with no problems in any of the booths so far. As it reaches your turn, Nepeta convinces you to swap places with her so that you are between two people you know. It probably looks a bit suspicious, but you have to admit that you do feel more comfortable watching Felina go through, with Nepeta still right behind you.

Felina walks to the other gates, but stops short of entering, turning back to give you a ‘thumbs up’ as you approach the booth. The grub is sitting on a pedestal inside, appendages tucked neatly against its body, and what you assume to be its head waving around in the air as it awaits your papers. It’s more than a little unnerving that the creature is the same colour as the Empress’ blood, but at least it doesn’t look completely like a Troll grub. You take a deep breath and slide the forms across to it.

The grub scuttles down from its plinth and begins walking up and down the first document, deeming it satisfactory by excreting a fuchsia seal on the bottom. Then it pushes that paper aside and begins on the second, making your blood pusher forget how to work when it stops half way down, and turns back to face you. In spite of the way your whole body is trembling, you grit your teeth and remain stock still as the grub examines you. Then you hear a hissing sound and squeeze your eyes shut, every muscle tensing up in preparation for the venom.

“Karkat.” Nepeta says as something prods your arm.

That’s strange, you can still feel your limbs, and move them too. You open your eyes and see the grub looking at you expectantly from its pedestal, a fresh seal on the document in front of it.

“Karkat it wasn’t you,” Nepeta hisses, “get your papurrs and go.”

It takes you a second to realise what she said, but when you see a Troll keel over several booths down, your pan is shocked back into functioning. Your hand is shaking so much that you almost drop your papers when you go to take them, and you trip over your own feet as you try to walk. You don’t think you’ve ever been this nervous before; if the fear-sweats running down your back are anything to go by, you’ll probably need to sort out your make-up later.

“It’s alright, you can chill now.” Felina says, giving you a light pat on the back.

You nod, tightly clutching your papers and watching Nepeta as hers are read and approved. You feel so relieved that you even manage a laugh when Nepeta waves goodbye to the grub. It’s over. You did it. Both of you did it.

Now all you need is to get Tavros through, which should be no problem with his new robotic legs, and the team is all together again. Even Aradia, who you found out had become a ghost, but was brought back from the dead after Equius built a blue-blooded ‘soulbot’ for her spirit to inhabit. Man, you and your friends are kind of fucked up.

Without looking back you go through the second set of gates, which leads into an open, paved courtyard. Once all of the Trolls that managed to pass the booths have followed you, both sets of gates are closed by the Drones, locking you inside the city. There’s still one more wall to get through, but it’s smaller than the others, and there are several gates that only require your key-card to pass. In the distance, you can see the tops of various buildings, including Feferi’s castle, which stands alongside the coast to the West.

You line up once again, still half-expecting your card to be rejected as you swipe it through the slot on the gate. It isn’t, thank the Gods, and you can finally feel your ragged nerves relaxing as you take your first few steps beyond the third wall.

“We’re here!” Nepeta squeaks, shaking your arm as she gawks at your surroundings.

There are huge buildings all around you, most look like shops or hitels, but across the river to your left are rows and rows of uniformed hives. Then behind all of this you can see hivestems reaching up towards the sky, scattered between huge, sprawling complexes that you assume to be the various academies. You really wish the city didn’t slope down towards the ocean like this, at least then you’d be blissfully unaware of what you were in for. Terezi was right; you are going to get so lost in this place.

Oh that’s right, you should probably let Terezi know you’re here, Eridan too, as much as you’d rather avoid a dramatic entrance.

“Karkitty,” Nepeta taps your arm, “I’ll let Purrezi know we’re here, you tell Ampurra so he and Equius can pick us up.”

Without giving you a chance to answer, she takes out her palmhusk and begins typing, a wide grin on her face. You do the same – although with considerably less joy – and message Eridan.

carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling caligulasAquarium [CA]

CG: HEY WE’RE HERE
CG: YOU AND ZAHHAK CAN COME GET US NOW.
CA: about fuckin time
CA: howw did you get here
CG: SHUTTLEBUG, AND BEFORE YOU TELL ME THAT THERE’S A QUICKER WAY, THAT WAS THE ONLY HALF-DECENT OPTION I HAD OTHER THAN WALKING.
CA: i wwasnt goin to say anythin
CA: just thatttyhhhhyh
CG: EXCUSE ME?
CA: sorry hoofbeast decided to fuckin jump wwhen i wwas trying to type
CG: YOU’RE RIDING HERE?
CA: yeah howw else wwas i supposed to get to you
CA: i cant drivve and theres no point in wwalkin if im supposed to be givvin you a lift
CG: BUT I CAN’T RIDE A HOOFBEAST!
CA: wwell duh thats wwhy youre gonna get on mine and nep is gonna go wwith eq
CA: anywway i wwas tryin to say that wwell be there soon so wwait by the big light in the middle of the courtyard
CG: YOU’RE IMPOSSIBLE SOMETIMES AMPORA.
CG: I BET YOU’VE BEEN PLANNING THIS FROM THE BEGINNING AND DIDN’T EVEN BOTHER TRYING TO GET A SCUTTLEBUG OR SOMETHING.
CA: wwell if you dont wwant a lift then you can alwways wwalk
CA: i wwas just tryin to be a good friend an help you out
CG: OKAY FINE I’LL TAKE YOUR GODDAMN LIFT.
CG: BUT THERE ARE SOME GROUND RULES; NO FISH PUNS, NO EMBARRASSING ME IN PUBLIC, AND ABSOLUTELY, POSITIVELY, NO HUGGING.
CG: IF ANY OF THESE ARE BROKEN, THEN MY FIST IS GOING TO BE HAVING A VERY STERN INTERROGATION WITH BOTH PARTS OF YOUR RESPIRITORY APPARATUS ABOUT THE IGNORANCE OF THE PAN ATTACHED TO THE UNFORTUNATE BODY THAT THEY ARE STUCK IN SERVITUDE OF.
CA: alright alright
CA: youre such a grumpy gills lately kar
CA: i thought wwe wwere fronds
CG: WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST SAY!
CA: yeah i knoww no fish puns im sorry
CG: YOU’D BETTER ‘KNOWW’, AND IF YOU DON’T THEN YOU WILL MOST CERTAINLY BE SORRY.

carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased trolling caligulasAquarium [CA]

You sigh. You can just tell that this is going to be the biggest shitshow you’ve ever had the misfortune to be a part of. You’re awful at riding anything; you couldn’t even stay on Crabdad’s back when he used to carry you around the hive. Not to mention that you’ve never been close to a hoofbeast when it was alive, let alone touched one, so you’ll probably freak out and frighten it or something.

You pass on the message to Nepeta, who jumps around happily at the prospect of seeing Equius again. Well he is her Moirail and they have been apart for over a perigee after all, so you understand why she’s so excited. You’ve been separated from your own Moirail for about the same length of time, and it’s been even longer since you’ve seen Eridan in person.

Felina’s Moirail Paluta turns up a short time later. She’s quite scrawny for a cerulean, but makes up for it in height, with Felina only reaching her chin.

“How’s Clawra?” Felina asks after they share a hug.

“She’s doin’ great,” Paluta replies with a smile, flipping her platted hair back over her shoulder, “think she’s been missin’ you somethin’ awful though.”

“I can’t wait to see her!” Felina turns back to ruffle Nepeta’s hair, “Good luck with efurrything Nepeta, I’ll call you when I get settled at Luta’s,” then she gives you a light punch on the shoulder and says, “have fun in the big city little Kitty.” before heading off with her Moirail.

You’re glad she left before Eridan got here, if she really does have a ‘thing’ for sea-dwellers like Nepeta said, it’d be quicker to walk to Terezi’s whilst Eridan let the poor girl fawn over him. You get out your book and sit on one of the nearby benches, expecting to be there for quite some time, but after a few pages you hear Nepeta shout Equius’ name, along with the clatter of hooves on stone. You quickly captchalogue your book and stand up, just as Eridan’s hoofbeast skids to a halt by the lamp, followed by Equius, who almost runs into Nepeta as she bounds towards him.

“Nepeta please be more careful.” He tells her sternly as he dismounts.

She ignores him and immediately leaps up to throw her arms around his neck, “But I just missed you so much!”

“Yes, well, I uh, missed you also.” Equius says, patting his Moirail’s head and trying not to look like he’s just as happy to see her.

“Hey Kar.” Eridan is standing in front of you, his hands behind his back.

You’re strangely relieved to see that he still has those dorky hipster glasses, and how his hair is brushed back to show off the purple streak like it’s always been. His clothes have definitely gotten an upgrade though; he’s now wearing the white uniform of the Alternian Navy, complete with gold and violet detailing, and an even more extravagant cape that has his sign emblazoned on the back in white. He’s also got a little gold stud in the top of his left fin, which looks like it was only done recently.

“Hey Eridan.” You reply, feeling quite under-dressed in your grubby, black jeans and oversized coat.

“We should get moving,” Equius says, hopping back onto his mount, “our commanders will expect us to return soon.”

He definitely hasn’t changed much; even his new, black uniform resembles the clothes he used to wear, except with full length trousers and a high collar on his sleeveless jacket. He must be cold in that right? You know he’s a Highblood but it’s fucking freezing, even Eridan’s breath is making a little veil of mist as he exhales, and yours is more like a solid cloud in front of your face. Seriously what is going on with the weather in this place?

“Yay!” Nepeta vaults up onto the back of the saddle and places her hands on Equius’ shoulders.

The hoofbeast snorts in protest, but remains completely still.

“Front or back?” Eridan looks at you expectantly, patting his own hoofbeast on the neck.

You didn’t think this would ever be a decision you’d have to make, so it takes a few seconds to weight up the options. You eventually conclude that sitting in the back would probably end up in you either falling off or clinging to Eridan for dear life like a wiggler, plus you still don’t like the idea of being so exposed, even if you are past the main threat by now.

“Front.” You say with as much confidence as you can muster.

“Great, jump on an' wwe’ll get going.”

He steps back, giving you access to the side of the hoofbeast. You look for some point of reference on the equipment strapped to its back, but you really have no idea what you’re doing. You look at Eridan and raise an eyebrow.

He raises one back, “Wwant some help?”

You nod.

“Put your left foot in that stirrup there,” He says, pointing to the metal, triangle-looking thing hanging off of one side, “then swwing your right leg ovver.”

You grip the saddle tightly and hook your foot through the triangle. Eridan nods in encouragement, watching intently as you try several times to lever your other leg onto the saddle. Eventually you manage to get the right angle and haul yourself up onto the creature’s back. It shifts on its feet a little, but Eridan keeps it still with a hand on its side. Sitting up, you feeling a sense of accomplishment, but also a slight nervousness over being the one in control of this thing.

You quickly unhook your foot, allowing Eridan to climb on behind you in one swift, graceful movement and slot his feet through both stirrups. He reaches past you to take hold of the reins, and then after he makes a clicking sound and gives the hoofbeast’s sides a nudge – which also causes him to squeeze you a little between his thighs, a sensation that you’re not quite sure of your opinion on – the creature begins to walk forwards.

Equius follows after you, giving a much more direct command by simply telling his hoofbeast to “Walk on.”

The paths twist and turn through the rows of enormous buildings, then straighten out when you can no longer see the gates behind you. The main streets are so crowded that you wonder how you’ll make it through, but as soon as the other Trolls notice Eridan and Equius, they immediately part to let them past. Some of them even take off their hats or bow, whilst others glare at you as if they’d sooner tussle with a drone than submit to someone half their age.

The Highbloods of course take it all in their stride, but you can’t help feeling horribly self-conscious with everyone paying attention to you like this. You pretend to be looking at your palmhusk and ignore the adults, but you don’t quite feel relaxed – which in this case means not feeling sick with anxiety – until you’re finally back on the smaller roads, even if it does take away your view somewhat.

As if trying to remember the route and any landmarks you pass isn’t hard enough, it’s just as difficult as you expected to stay centred on the hoofbeast, especially when you decide to look up and completely lose your sense of balance. Corners are also an issue, but Eridan takes them slowly and braces his arm against your side whenever you start to slip.

“You gotta sit up straight Kar,” He says, letting go of the reigns with one hand to pull your shoulders back, “otherwwise you’re going to fall off.”

Repositioning in the saddle, you straighten your back as much as you can, rolling your shoulders to try and stop yourself from hunching over when your muscles begin to ache. If anything, you feel less steady now than you did when you were leaning forwards.

“You can lean against me if you like.” He adds, and you can tell from his voice that he’s holding back a smirk.

A loud scoff is the only answer you provide to this suggestion. Eridan retaliates by giving the hoofbeast – and you – another squeeze, spurring the animal to quicken its pace and you to slip backwards and give him exactly what he wanted.

“Fuck you.” You grumble, resigning yourself to resting lightly against his chest.

Shit, it’s actually helping you stay up, not that you’d ever tell him. He’s so smug about it too, just laughing quietly to himself, even when you growl.

***

Terezi is waiting outside when you reach your new abode, waving both hands in the air as soon as she smells you coming. Nepeta waves back frantically, almost slipping out of the saddle before she remembers that she has to hold on. Not wanting to fall off and embarrass yourself, you sit forwards and opt for a more restrained, one-handed wave.

Eridan dismounts and then helps you do the same, before passing the reigns to Equius, who ties up the hoofbeasts next to a scuttlebug parked nearby. From what you can tell it’s a really high-end model, blacked out back windows, double-coated armour plating, and enough room for eight people in the back, plus the driver and one extra passenger in the front. Your neighbours must have some rather wealthy friends, although you’re not really one to talk.

“I can only remain here for a short time.” Equius informs Nepeta, as Terezi leads the four of you upstairs to her – and now also your – apartment.

Nepeta just rolls her eyes and giggles, patting her Moirail on the arm when you stop. Terezi opens the door and walks through, then beckons for you to do the same, entering straight into the livingblock from the communal hallway. It’s quite a decent size, with two couches, a table and chairs, and a small TV against one wall. There are three closed doors on the back wall, and to your left you can see a fairly small nutritionblock.

You all take off your outerwear – thank God this place has heating – and hang it haphazardly over the dumpy coatrack beside the front door. Finally, you can stop wearing that olive-blood sweater. You were assured that it had been washed, but you don’t really like the idea of wearing a dead Troll’s clothes, let alone their sign too.

“The door closest to the nutritionblock is the ablutionblock, then there’s the girls’ respiteblock, and the last one is the boys’.” Terezi walks backwards a few steps, holding out her hands out to the side, “So, what do you think?”

“It’s cool!” Nepeta replies, “I’ve never lived in a proper hive before.”

“Yeah it’s not bad,” you agree, “it’s definitely bigger than I expected.”

You think back to your original idea of an entire hive being squashed into a space the size of your old respiteblock. This place isn’t huge, but it has all the essentials, and enough room for the four of you not to be bumping elbows all the time. You never did use the extra blocks in your old hive anyway, and the others were just filled with junk.

Then you hear footsteps in the nutritionblock, “Is that my best motherfucking friend that I hear?”

You’d recognise that voice anywhere, but you’re pleased to see that he hasn’t changed at all, even down to his stupid face paint and big, goofy grin that you’ve missed so much.

“Gamzee!” You meet him halfway as he walks into the room, throwing your arms around his chest. “I’ve really missed you.”

You’re probably covering his shirt with make-up as you rub your face against it, but neither of you seem to mind too much.

“I’ve missed you too bro,” He bends down to pick you up, and then settles down on the couch with you in his lap, “talking on trollian just ain’t the motherfucking same as a good pale hug.”

“Mhmm.” You sigh, resting against him as he wraps all four limbs around you.

You know he’s at the age where he could crush you easily, but he’s always so tender, like a living snuggleplane, albeit significantly colder. Equius is the same way with Nepeta, allowing her to lead him over to her new block so that Terezi can show them around. For all of his talk about the Haemospectrum, you know that Equius has a real soft spot for her, no matter what caste she is.

Eridan promptly excuses himself to get a glass of water – probably feeling a little out of place with all the pale affection going on – leaving you alone with Gamzee.

“How have you been?” You ask him quietly, placing your hand on his cheek.

“I’ve had some good days and some really motherfucking bad days,” He replies, never losing his smile, “but I feel a lot better now you’re here.”

Gamzee may be a clown-worshiping idiot, who’s addicted to sopor and worries the shit out of you on a regular basis, but he’s your clown-worshiping idiot. You want to ask him more about what he’s been doing, how the Subjuggilators have been treating him, but the relaxed look on his face tells you that all he needs right now is some paps and a hug. To be honest, that sounds good to you too. The questions can wait until afterwards.

“Me too.” You give him a gentle kiss and then press your foreheads together, exchanging quiet purrs.

Gamzee has never been the type to talk about his problems, at least not directly. He would hint at things that had upset him or that he disliked, but then laugh them off with a healthy dose of his clown-talk about miracles. There’s only been one time that he has behaved otherwise, one time when you were six and he contacted you in the middle of the day – you were still awake thanks to your awful sleeping patterns – babbling about questioning his faith and hearing voices.

Needless to say that you were losing your shit by the time you finally had to reply, but somehow you managed to coax this comforting, page-long set of messages out of your fingertips, and then another reassuring speech out of your mouth after convincing Gamzee to call you. It was only after you put your palmhusk down and immediately set off towards his hive, that you noticed how deeply you’d fallen pale for him.

He’d been making his feelings clear to you every time you spoke, calling you ‘best friend’ or ‘invertebrother’, staying on Trollian for hours listening to you rant, then spewing a bunch of nonsense that somehow calmed you down. But you were too stupid – or perhaps too stubborn – to notice the pale undertones of your conversations, until it was you who was doing the placating. You hug him tightly as you remember this, trying desperately not to think about it anymore.

Then when you hear Eridan re-appear from the nutritionblock, you stop and sit back. You don’t really want to rub your Moirailegence in his face, especially since you’re the closest thing he’s got to a Moirail. He’s always been one of those Trolls who really needs one, not just for his personal satisfaction, but for his own safety and everyone else’s.

Eridan was a typical Highblood when he was younger; he even spent most of his fifth and sixth sweeps trying to acquire a device to wipe out land-dwellers, proclaiming that he was going to create a ‘pure’ future for his kind. Feferi never really did anything about his genocide issues beyond telling him off, but just that was enough to keep him in check. You don’t think he wanted his schemes to succeed anyway, he rarely seemed surprised or angry when the devices didn’t work.

Then when he was seven things went sour with his Moirailegence. You don’t know the details, but it was bad enough to make Eridan’s plans change from just killing land Trolls, to wiping out everything and then going down with the ship. You pitied him so much when he told you that. So did Feferi, but he wouldn’t listen to her anymore – wouldn’t listen to anyone – he just dropped off the radar. Feferi even had to feed Gl’bgolyb herself, which she hated.

You’re glad that Gamzee was your Moirail by then, he let you stay over at his hive for a day, and then his Lusus took both of you to visit Eridan. He’d completely trashed the docks on his island, probably to deter anyone from interfering, but when you did manage to get to his hive he looked so relieved to see you. Gamzee was really understanding about it, bringing you food whilst you talked Eridan down and helping you fix up the dock.

You made it clear afterwards that you weren’t Eridan’s Moirail – in spite of the two awkward pale-kisses that you sprung on him in quick succession and then immediately regretted – but you’ve never managed to completely distance yourself.

“Why don’t you go and give fish-bro some motherfucking attention?” Gamzee whispers, giving your shoulders a squeeze, “I know you guys are tight, and he up and left before I did.”

You know you should protest, tell Gamzee he shouldn’t have to share you, it’s Eridan’s problem that he doesn’t have a Moirail anymore, not yours. But you don’t protest. You don’t even try.

“Thanks.”

You touch your nose to his before getting up and walking over to Eridan, stopping a stop a foot or so in front of him and holding your arms out with a sigh.

“Go on then.”

He lets out this little squeak and pulls you into a hug, lifting you up so he can nuzzle your cheek.

“I missed you so much Kar, you don’t evven knoww.”

The reason you had specified ‘no hugging’ in your ground rules, is because you learned a few sweeps ago that Eridan is the biggest cuddle-bug. He’d always seemed like the type to focus on the more, well, flushed interactions, but the first time you gave him a proper hug he acted like it was like the best present ever.

“Oh I think I do,” You wheeze, squirming to give your thoracic cavity room to expand, “and you’re gonna miss me even more if you suffocate me.”

Highbloods are strong even when they don’t try to be, and unlike Gamzee and Equius, Eridan hasn’t yet learned how to hug a Lowblood without crushing them.

“Fuck, sorry,” He loosens his grip without putting you down, “I forget my owwn strength sometimes.”

“Well try to remember next time fishface, but I guess I missed you too.”

He holds you closer and hums contentedly, but when the others emerge from girls’ block, he practically drops you back onto your feet. Now you kind of regret telling him to hold off on the PDA all the time, you didn’t want him to be that conscious about it, just enough to not draw attention.

“I need to return to the Ruffiannihilator academy,” Equius says as he strides to the front door, “I suggest you also think about returning to yours, Ampora.”

Eridan frowns, pulling his cape around him as he folds his arms. Equius tenses up, obviously taking Eridan’s reaction as irritation at what he had said.

“N-not that I was trying to instruct you directly, I was simply advising you, please forgive me.”

“No, I should be goin’ anywway, my officer wwill cull me if I’m late,” Eridan hesitates, glancing at the door then back at you, “good luck wwith your entrance exams Kar, I’ll let you knoww wwhen you can vvisist Crabdad.”

“Thanks.” You reply, trying not to show the feeling of dread welling up inside you after being reminded of your next hurdle.

Equius bows slightly to Gamzee, and after giving Nepeta one last pat on the head, he exits your apartment. Eridan gives you a quick smile and then hurries after him, leaving the block with a dramatic sweep of his fancy new cape. You can’t believe his academy let him keep that thing, unless it’s true that all violet-bloods like to show their importance through their clothes.

You go into the ablutionblock to touch up your make-up and remove your contacts, decaptchaloguing a pair of sunglasses to have nearby just in case anyone turns up for a visit. Then you flop back down on the couch with Gamzee, resting your head on his lap and stretching out your legs – sometimes it pays to be small.

***

A few hours of lounging around and one grubloaf lunch later, Terezi finally nags you and Nepeta into getting all of your crap out of your Sylladexes and putting it away. You still don’t quite feel comfortable personalising your half of the block, but after filling a shelf with movies and setting up your desk, it’s starting to feel a little more like a hive. Gamzee helps in his own way – by making a pile of blankets in a corner and then relaxing in it – and every so often Terezi pokes her head in, commenting on how it already smells like you or just giggling.

You’re not sure if you’ll ever really feel at home again, especially living with three Trolls instead of just your Lusus, and if it ever does you’ll have to move into your Academy dormblock eventually anyway. You guess that can wait until you have your own hive, when you can live with Crabdad again and maybe a quadrantmate. You scoff at this thought; as if anyone would ever want a mutant like you as anything other than a Moirail or Auspistice, and that’s without bringing your personality into the equation.

“You okay bro?” Gamzee asks, hanging his arms over your shoulders as he kneels behind you.

“Yeah.” You reply absentmindedly, busy with flicking through the rest of your Sylladex.

Wow, you really filled this thing up with a lot of shit, you’re honestly surprised at how much ended up fitting in there. You feel a pang in your stomach at the thought of everything you left behind, but then you think over the checks you did before leaving and realise that none of it was important. It must be where you’re tired, your pan is getting all sentimental over useless junk, most of which you don’t even remember.

You used that as a philosophy whilst packing; if you couldn’t remember it without being in the room, and it wasn’t vitally important, it got left in the dust. You did however, manage to bring your entire movie collection with you by storing multiple items together as ‘stacks’ or ‘piles’. They obviously still have their limits, but this system is far more efficient than the one item per card method, and provides an easy way of getting around the Sylladex’s item restrictions. You’d like to think that Sollux hasn’t thought of this yet, but in reality he probably has a code in place that auto-stacks things for him.

Gamzee brings his arms up to wrap them around you, “I think someone needs a feelings jam.”

Before you can object, he pulls you backwards into the pile with him, making you accidentally captchalogue a tower of DVDs across the room. You huff to show that you did not approve of the way he executed the hug, but you don’t try to struggle away from it.

“Now tell me brother,” he says, stroking your hair the wrong way so that it goes over your eyes, “what is all up and botherin’ your righteous pan on this fine night?”

You sigh and drop your head back against his chest, “I just feel really fucking weird, okay? Being somewhere so different and knowing that I can’t go back, it’s going to take some getting used to.”

“I understand, but you will get used to it, trust me.”

You roll over and nuzzle into his neck. Then you hear the sound of Gamzee’s Sylladex decaptchaloguing and feel something being draped across your back, followed by grey material floating down in front of your face.

“Please tell me that’s not a cape.”

“Nope,” Gamzee laughs, “it’s a motherfucking cloak that Kansis made for you, it was meant to be for your wrigglin’ day but it all up and arrived early, so she said you could have it tonight as a fuckin’ hivewarming present or something.”

You sit up to properly examine the cloak. It’s dark grey on the outside with black lining and detailing, including your symbol embroidered onto the front, which you only notice after doing it up around your neck with the little silver crab clasp. It’s pretty simple, just the way you like your clothes to be, and feels surprisingly warm considering how light it is. You also discover that it has a hood, after Gamzee helpfully pulls it up over your head with no warning.

You push it back down and shake the hair out of your eyes, “Kanaya made this?”

“Yep, she made something for all us motherfuckers this sweep, like my bitch tits foot cosies.” He gestures to his feet, which are sporting a pair of woolly, lime coloured socks.

“She didn’t have to get me anything.” You mumble, examining the perfectly stitched seams of your present.

Some Trolls like to make an event out of their wriggling days, with parties and presents and other annoyingly chipper forms of celebration. You, on the other hand, prefer to spend the day alone watching movies and thinking about how you’ve just spent another sweep of your miserable life doing basically nothing.

It was only last sweep that you actually told your friends when your wriggling day was; you wanted to avoid having them send you presents or try to rope you into a get together, but for some reason they always seemed upset that they’d never been able to do any of this for you. They tried to make up for it with sporadic gifts throughout the sweep, but never quite let it go until you told them.

Gamzee shrugs, “Being nine is a big deal to some motherfuckers, and you know how Kansis loves making all kind of awesome shit.”

This seems strange to you – the first part, not the bit about Kanaya, Gamzee is right about her love for crafts – being nine is the same as being seven or eight, you’re just one sweep older. It’s not even a pupating sweep, you won’t have another one of those until you’re twelve at least, maybe later for the Highbloods. Maybe that’s it, perhaps it’s a Highblood thing to celebrate your ninth sweep more than others? It would make sense, seeing as they have more of a natural place in society, so they would have been planning their move to the city for ages; wading through countless options or just following their ancestors, their whole future laid out for them by their blood colour.

Or maybe it’s just you? Nepeta never really mentioned doing anything special, but she seemed pretty excited to be nine. You’d just assumed it was Equius’ influence, getting her all enthusiastic about being an adult. Then you realise why you’ve never been happy about your wriggling day; you knew that every sweep was one step closer to moving to the city, to being responsible. Of course you’ve been looking forwards to finally becoming a Threshecutioner, but the idea was always tinged with worry, thoughts like what if you didn’t get in? What if they culled you for being a mutant? What if your friends abandoned you? What if you abandoned them?

“Karkat?”

A cold hand on your shoulder brings you out of your own pan and you look up. Gamzee is frowning at you, his anxious eyes darting across your face. You must have been making a really weird face for him to be this worried, either that or you zoned out whilst you were thinking about wriggling days and that wasn’t the first time he said your name.

“Yeah?” You say, trying to push those thoughts to the back of your mind.

He eyes you for a second longer, then his expression levels out into his usual blissful smile, “Nothin’.”

You smile back, grateful that he decided not to ask you what you were thinking about. Then you reach back to grab a few of the DVDs scattered across the floor.

“Want to break in the new TV with a movie?”

“Sure thing bro, I’ll get some motherfuckin’ snacks up in here whist you set up.”

“None of your toxic shit!” You shout after him as he plods off to the nutrition block.

The only reply you get is a husky laugh, meaning that he fully intends to present you with a bottle of that neon swill. You roll your eyes and pick up a few more films to give the others a wider selection, but then decide to just put on the one you want to watch, and let Nepeta and Terezi know so they can join in if they feel like it. You also remove your cloak and fold it as best as you can before putting it in your Sylladex, something you rarely do with any of your normal clothes.

The girls eagerly inform you that they do indeed feel like it, and you end up sitting between them on Gamzee’s lap whilst he tries to give you faygo, through a straw no less. But as you push the bottle out of your face, with the smell of fruit fizzing in your nose and Terezi and Nepeta telling you to be quiet because the movie is starting, you feel a strange sense of belonging. Sure this might not be your home, and things are never going to be the same as they were, but if you’re with people who care about you, it feels like everything might just be okay.

You watch the film with a slight smile on your face, not even caring when you accidentally take a sip of faygo after Gamzee shoves it in front of you again. Actually, you don’t know what all the fuss is about, it’s just soda. Not great soda, but it’s hardly the poison everyone says it is. You pull Gamzee’s arm down for another taste and conclude that you don’t hate faygo. Another thing you don’t hate, is how you feel like one of those spoiled princes in historical romance plots, with Gamzee holding your drink and the girls passing you the popcorn bowl on demand.

You could get used to this ‘living with other trolls’ thing.

Chapter Text

==> Karkat, catch a cold.

You feel absolutely dreadful when you wake up the next evening. At first you think that you just slept too heavily, or maybe you had the recuperacoon set up wrong. Then you start sneezing and coughing, your airways so painfully dry and tight that even a drink of water doesn’t do anything to help. Everything spins when you try to stand up, and it feels as if the front of your head is filled with sopor slime. In fact, your nose may actually be full of sopor, considering the state of the half a dozen tissues you’ve used since waking up.

“Evening Karkles.” Terezi says with a grin when you finally drag yourself out of your block.

You just grunt in response, sinking into the couch and covering yourself with a snuggleplane. You swear it’s like ten degrees colder than it was last night.

“What’s the matter?” Nepeta asks, frowning at you over her husktop.

“Nothing.” You croak, sounding as if someone’s simultaneously pinching your nose and strangling you.

“Are you sure?” Terezi also looks concerned now, her brows furrowed above her glasses, “Because you sound awful.”

“Gee thanks.” You scoff. Or rather, you try to, but then end up coughing to the point where your lungs only just remain inside your body.

Terezi fetches you a glass of water, whilst Nepeta begins tapping away on her keyboard. You almost choke yourself a couple of times trying to take a drink, realising very quickly that you can no longer breathe through your nose.

“I think you’re sick Karkat.” Terezi says as she hands you some more tissues.

“I felt fine last night.” You reply, the coughing fits having cleared your throat a little.

She puts her hands on her hips, “Well you’re not now.”

“Hmm.” Nepeta picks up her husktop and moves to sit next to you, narrowing her eyes as she looks you up and down.

“What?” You ask after blowing your nose a couple of times.

She turns the screen to face you. It’s displaying some sort of medical website, with a list of symptoms that have tick-boxes next to them.

“Are you trying to diagnose me with some dodgy site?”

“No it’s official,” she moves the screen back towards her, “I just want to check you’re not dying or anything.”

“I think I’d know if I was dying.”

“Maybe we should do it anyway.” Terezi crouches down next to her, probably not wanting to sit next to you in case you’re contagious.

You sigh and then sniff, “Fine.”

Nepeta then proceeds to read out all of the symptoms, followed by a series of yes or no questions. This is really not how you imagined spending your evening, and you don’t even have the energy to shout at them when they giggle over the more embarrassing terminology. Yeah, because ‘spontaneous arousal’ is fucking hilarious. You a give a firm ‘no’ to that one and get four wiggling eyebrows for your troubles.

“That’s weird,” Nepeta says after inputting all of your answers, “it says you’ve got nas– nasol– nasof– ugh, whatefurr this is, but it also says that only sea-dwellers can get it.”

You shrug, “Well it must be wrong then.”

“No but look, it sounds just like you.” She shows you the screen again.

You can definitely see why she had trouble reading the name; it’s got way too many letters for your liking, you don’t even know where to begin with mentally sounding it out. You move down to the description, which says ‘a disease that exclusively affects sea Trolls, commonly contracted during their first interactions with adults of their sub-species’ and then lists every one of your symptoms. Although the parts about gills don’t apply to you obviously, seeing as you don’t have any.

“Is there not a land Troll variant?” Terezi asks, reaching over Nepeta’s shoulder to scroll down the page.

She quickly answers her own question and finds that there is not, leading to only one conclusion; yet again your mutant blood has fucked you over. You thought you’d discovered all of the shit that came from your ‘condition’, but apparently you can also catch sea-dweller diseases. Just what you need when you’re going to be living right next-door to a whole bunch of them in a few weeks, including one overly-affectionate one.

The advice for treatment simply says to sleep it off, so you return to your block to do just that. Or attempt it at least, which won’t be too successful with the uncomfortable tightness that is slowly spreading through your face. This had better be gone tomorrow, you tell whatever bugs are in your bloodstream, because there’s no way you’re going to pass your Threshecutioner induction feeling – or looking – like this.

Being the most competent cook out of the three of you, Terezi fixes you some grubmeat soup before heading to her first lecture at the Legislacerator academy. You thank her for it and try to seem like you enjoy the first few spoonful’s, but you’ve mostly lost your sense of taste, so to you it’s just something hot with a vague saltiness to it.

You finish your soup and dump the empty bowl in the nutritionblock, then take some painkillers for your growing headache and settle down in your recuperacoon. Although your efforts to sleep fail just as you suspected, so you’re glad when you get a message to distract you from your misery.

terminallyCapricious [TC] began trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG]

TC: HeY tHeRe BeSt FrIeNd
TC: CaTsIsTeR AlL uP aNd ToLd Me ThAt YoU wErEnT FeElInG tOo MoThErFuCkInG hOt :0(
TC: Is ThErE aNyThInG i CaN dO tO hElP a BrOtHeR oUt?
CG: THANKS GAMZEE BUT I’LL BE FINE.
CG: AND NEPETA’S HOME TONIGHT ANYWAY SO I’M SURE SHE’D BE MORE THAN HAPPY TO GET ME ANYTHING THAT I NEEDED.
TC: YoU mOtHeRfUcKiN sUrE i CaNt Do AnYtHiNg?
TC: NoThInG yOu WaNt Me To Up AnD gEt FoR yOu FrOm ThE MaRkEt?
CG: NOT UNLESS THERE’S SOME MAGICAL FUCKNUGGET WHO SELLS SHITTY POTIONS THAT COULD STOP MY OCULARS FROM TRYING TO CRAWL AWAY FROM THE ENDLESS SUPPLY OF DEFECTIVE SOPOR SLOWLY FILLING EVERY SPARE CAVITY IN MY CRANIUM.
CG: AND NO, I WON’T BELIEVE YOU IF YOU TELL ME THERE’S A TROLL WHO HAS GONE SHITHIVE MAGGOTS AND IS CLAIMING TO BE A MAGICIAN AT THE MARKET, IN FACT I WOULD RATHER LIVE ON FAYGO FOR THREE NIGHTS THAN DRINK ANYTHING YOU WERE CONNED INTO BUYING BY SOMEONE OF THE AFOREMENTIONED MENTAL STATE.
CG: BUT SERIOUSLY, I LOOK FUCKING AWFUL, I SOUND FUCKING AWFUL, AND I’VE LOST THE USE OF MY NAISAL PASSAGES, BUT I’M PRETTY SURE I SMELL FUCKING AWFUL TOO.
CG: YOU REALLY DON’T WANT TO COME NEAR ME.
TC: OkAy If YoU sAy So
TC: BuT dOnt HeSiTaTe To AsK iF yOu ChAnGe YoUr MiNd
TC: I cAn Be OvEr ThErE AsAp
TC: LiKe A MoThErFuCkInG mIrAcLe :0)
CG: OH GOD THE MIRACLES.
TC: yOu GoTtA BeLiEvE bRo
CG: YEAH SURE, MAYBE IT’LL BE A MIRCALE IF I ACTUALLY GET ENOUGH STUDYING DONE TO PASS THIS GODDAMN ENTRANCE EXAM.
CG: WHICH IS HAPPENING TOMORROW FUCKING EVENING, GODS HELP ME.
TC: I wIlL pRaY To ThE MiRtHfUl MeSsIaHs FoR yOuR wIsH tO bE gRaNtEd
TC: BuT i DoNt ThInK yOuLl NeEd A mIrAcLe To PaSs :0)
CG: THANKS, I’M JUST WORRIED I GUESS.
TC: WeLl YoU gOt NoThIn To WoRrY aBoUt KaRbRo
CG: I HOPE YOU’RE RIGHT
CG: NOW I DON'T WANT TO HEAR THAT YOU'VE BOUGHT ANY DODGY SHIT FROM THE MARKET ALRIGHT? AND I PROMISE I’LL MESSAGE YOU IF I NEED HELP.
TC: It Is A MoThErFuCkIn DeAl
TC: HoNk :0)
CG: YEAH HONK OR WHATEVER.
TC: <>
CG: <>

terminallyCapricious [TC] ceased trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG]

***

==> Nepeta, do something cute

Your name is now Nepeta Leijon, and you are currently scanning the web to try and find out ways of making Karkat feel better. It’s not particularly cute, especially when you click on a page that has some nasty medical pictures, but what good is being cute when your friend is sick? No good at all, no matter what all the places trying to sell ‘sexy physician uniforms’ tell you.

“Oh you utter piece of horn-wangling shit!” Karkat rasps from his block.

His throat sounds worse than it was earlier; if he keeps shouting like that he’s not going to have a voice left for his induction tomorrow. You decide to go and investigate, receiving a sharp ‘WHAT?!’ when you knock on the door.

“Is efurrything okay?” you ask in your sweetest tone.

You would have asked to come in, but the website told Karkat to rest so he’s probably in his recuperacoon, shirtless and possibly other-clothes-less. Not that you wouldn’t mind seeing that – hey, a girl can still admire an attractive Troll without obsessively crushing on them can’t she? – but it would probably be very awkward for him. Especially since you can’t trust yourself not to stare and blush and stutter like an idiot.

“No everything is not okay!” He growls, “My husktop is being a fucking waste of space and refuses to charge its power sack!”

Oh, you can see why he’s annoyed now, you’d be pretty miffed yourself if your husktop suddenly stopped working.

“Would you like to borrow mine?”

“No it’s fine, I’ll just plug this heap of chutewaste into the mains and hope it doesn’t blow up.” He sounds as if he’s talking directly to his husktop, and you can hear him stomping around as he searches for the charging cord.

You glance behind you and spot the cord draped over the back of the couch. What a shame, looks like you’ll have to be a good friend and give it to him. You skip over and grab the cable, wrapping it around your arm and then knocking on the door again.

“Your cord is out here, want me to pass it in to you?”

“Oh, fuck, yeah sure.”

After a few more thuds, the door opens just enough for Karkat to stick his arm out. You pass him the cord, surprised at how warm his skin is when his hand brushes yours. You’ve felt it before – the two of you did live together for almost a week after all – but he’s never been this warm, which is strange because he was complaining that he was cold earlier. It must be where he’s sick, stupid Ampora giving him fish-flu.

“Thanks.” He takes hold of the plug at one end of the cable, letting the rest drop to the floor so that he can pull out a tissue to catch his sneeze in.

“No purroblem, let me know if you need anything else.”

“I will.” He says huskily as he closes the door.

Not that you don’t feel bad for Karkat, but you’re so glad you won’t be able to catch whatever he’s got. You wait for a moment to check that he isn’t going to ask for anything else, then return to your husktop. Oh, Equius messaged you whilst you were away.

centaursTesticle [CT] began trolling arsenicCatnip [AC]

CT: D--> Hello Nepeta
AC: :33 < *ac prances into the room*
AC: :33 < hi Equius!
AC: :33 < do you not have classes in the evening?
CT: D--> Not at this precise moment, no
CT: D--> However you must by no means count on me being free at this time every night, there is a STRONG chance that my timetable will change at a later date
AC: :33 < okay mr. serious pants!
AC: :33 < I’m happy that we can talk now though, I’ve b33n missing my meowrail
CT: D--> But we saw each other last night
AC: :33 < I know! But before that we didn’t speak fur ages, I was purrgining to worry about you
CT: D--> I appreciate your concern but you have nothing to fear
CT: D--> The majority of my classmates are b100-b100ds and lower castes, therefore making them clearly outmatched by my strength
CT: D--> In the case of our select few purples, I am sure to show that I am no threat to them so that I may monitor their behaviour
AC: :33 < k33p your furriends close and your enemies closer right?
CT: D--> Precicely, you are learning at an e%ceptional pace Nepeta
AC: :33 < I still don’t know if that’s the right thing to do though, what if you efur have to choose betw33n them?
CT: D--> In that case you choose the party that is most beneficial to your goals
AC: XOO < but what if that’s the enemy!
CT: D--> Then so be it, if your friends are truly worth having as friends then they will understand your choice
AC: :33 < hmmm *ac eyes ct suspiciously*
CT: D--> Nepeta please do not argue with me, we have discussed this
CT: D--> You know I would always choose you regardless
AC: :33 < and I would choose you Equius!
AC: :33 < efurry time without a moments paws!
CT: D--> I am glad to hear you say that, I was concerned that spending time with those lowb100ds would alter your opinion of me
AC: :OO < no! I would nefur let anyone come betw33n us, you silly!

You are about to begin asking about Equius’ Ruffannihilator classes, when a loud series of coughs makes you jump. Jeez Karkat sounds like he’s trying to eject his entire respiratory system into his recuperacoon. Oh no, he hasn’t inhaled some sopor has he? You should probably go and check on him.

AC: :OO < except maybe Karkat pawsibly dying, I’ll be right back!
CT: D--> Vantas is e%piring? Nepeta what do you mean?

You leap up without replying to Equius and tap on Karkat’s door.

“Are you alright Karkat?”

For a few seconds all you hear is more coughing, then everything goes disturbingly quiet. You’re starting to panic by this point, and when you go to knock again you realise that your hands are shaking. Breathing in sopor is bad for normal Trolls, but for a sick Troll even a bit could probably kill them, and what would you do if he has breathed some in? You don’t know that type of first aid, all you can do it bandage cuts and splint broken bones.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.”

You breathe a sigh of relief at the sound of Karkat’s voice. He must have been getting a drink of water or something, you bet he doesn’t even know that he scared you. You thank the moons that he’s alright though, and check if he needs anything – which he says he doesn’t – before returning to Equius.

CT: D--> Nepeta
AC: :33 < pawry!
AC: :33 < false alarm, Karkitty is a-okay!
CT: D--> What caused you to think otherwise?
AC: :33 < he’s sick so he’s resting in his recupurracoon, then I heard him cough really badly and I thought he’d breathed in sopor or something!
AC: :33 < but he didn’t and he’s fine now!
CT: D--> You are playing physician to a diseased Troll?
CT: D--> What if you contract the condition from him and become ill yourself? It could be dangerous, you could end up incapacitated or worse
AC: :33 < don’t worry Equius, I’m being furry careful!
AC: :33 < and anyway, me and Purrezi did some research and found out that what Karkat has won’t effect our castes.
CT: D--> How do you know that? Do you mean to tell me that you are aware of Vantas’ b100d colour?
AC: :33 < uh...
CT: D--> Nepeta do not lie to me, now tell me what hue runs through that filth’s veins
AC: XOO < gggrrrrrr
CT: D--> Nepeta
AC: XOO < I can’t tell you!
CT: D--> Why not?
AC: :33 < beclaws Karkat made me purromise not to, he trusted me with a furry impurrtant secret and I’m sorry but I just can’t tell you, or anyone!
AC: :33 < purrlease don’t be angry with me.
CT: D--> I am not angry with you
CT: D--> In fact I am proud of you for upholding a promise that you have made, even if it is to someone like him
CT: D--> It just frustrates me that even after all this time he is still keeping this secret from us, made worse by the fact that he is parading around as an olive-b100d right under the noses of the most superior Trolls on the planet
AC: :33 < he’s just scared, and I know it doesn’t seem like it because he’s so shouty all the time but it’s true.
AC: :33 < just give him time, he’ll tell efurryone someday.
CT: D--> Does this blind loyalty derive from your feelings towards him
AC: XOO < no!
AC: :33 < well yes, but not in that way!
AC: :33 < Karkitty is a really good friend of mine, and I would do this for him even if I had nefur felt red for him
CT: D--> Does that mean your feelings are no longer so STRONG as to be called red?
AC: :33 < Equius we have discussed this
CT: D--> Do not use my own words against me
AC: :PP < *ac pokes out her tongues at ct*
CT: D--> Do not roleplay either, it is wigglerish and unbecomming of a lady such as yourself
AC: :33 < pfft I’m not a lady
CT: D--> Yes you are, and you shall act as such
AC: XOO < no!
CT: D--> Yes
AC: XOO < NOOO!
CT: D--> Stop trying to derail our conversation with this futile argument, do you still have emotions of a red and concupiscent nature towards Vantas, yes or no?
AC: XOO < gggrrrrrr
AC: :33 < that’s such a hard question to anspurr, it’s like asking you how you f33l about Aradia!
CT: D--> That is a different matter entirely, and also that was not one of your STRONGest puns
AC: :33 < you’re wrong x 2!
CT: D--> I am not
AC: :33 < are so!
CT: D--> Are not
AC: :33 < are sooo!
CT: D--> This is silly, you will stop it immediately
AC: :33 < but you were joining in!
CT: D--> No I was simply indulging you for the sake of our friendship
AC: :33 <  same thing.
AC: :33 < I know you secretly enjoy being silly, even when you say you don’t and especially when you have a ‘silly’ argument with me over how not silly you are.
CT: D--> I must end this conversation, I have a class to attend soon
AC: :33 < *ac notices that ct is trying to avoid her questions, and decides to ignore this in a furry lady-like way*
AC: :33 < what type of class?
CT: D--> We will be learning the correct technique to disable an opponent whilst leaving them in a fit state for interrogation
CT: D--> In short, I will be practicing controlled e%ertion of my strength
AC: :33 < that sounds purrfect for you! I hope efurrything goes alright, not that you’ve got anything to worry about.
CT: D--> Thank you Nepeta
CT: D--> I shall message you when I ne%t find myself with some spare time
AC: :33 < yay!
AC: :33 < <>
CT: D--> <>

centaursTesticle [CT] ceased trolling arsenicCatnip [AC]

Oh that Equius, always getting so uptight over things, you wish he would learn to let go and have fun for once. You also wish he would stop obsessing over the Haemospectrum, but you know he doesn’t mean it really, at least not the part about hating Lowbloods seeing as he’s quadranted with you and Aradia. Well, you think Aradia is in one of his quadrants, but he always gets so flustered and grumpy whenever you ask that you’re really not sure if it’s red or black. It’s pretty cute regardless though, and definitely one for the new shipping wall you’re planning to make.

You can’t believe he’s got a class on restraining his strength tonight, it’s going to be so tough for him to not just destroy everything, especially if he gets angry. Hopefully they won’t let him loose on real Trolls just yet, or the academy is going to lose quite a lot of students over the next few hours. You giggle at the thought of Equius trying to be ‘gentle’ around anyone other than you, let alone during a fight. Then you find yourself sighing as you remember the burden still on your shoulders.

You’ve put off picking your speciality for so long, and even after everyone gave you tons of advice and options, you have yet to decide. You know you should have done it before you came to the city, in fact you should have done it last sweep, with the eve of your ninth wriggling day being the latest recommended deadline for applying to your chosen academy. But alas, you never even really looked at your available choices, or thought about what you want to do at all.

You’ve told Equius that you’re still looking of course – he would be so mad if he found out you had no idea what you were going to do – but within a few perigees you’ll be dangerously close to the ‘no use to society so cull her’ zone. You flop back against the couch and use another sigh to blow a strand of hair out of your face. Growing up sucks. You were really excited about it for a while, but now you’re here it really doesn’t seem all that great. You can’t even go out and hunt whenever you want, and poor Pounce is in a cage at some Highblood facility. A nice cage, Equius assured you, but a cage none the less.

That’s it, you decide, pulling your husktop onto your lap. You will have at least three possible classes by the end of tonight, no matter how drab the Imperial Academy Network page is once you get it up on screen. They could have colour coded it or put in some pictures or something, just because your species’ skin is grey doesn’t mean everything else has to be. Nonetheless, you try your hardest to keep focussed as you scroll down the list of speciality groups.

The Network runs a tiered system, where you first pick the speciality you want to have then choose a specific class within that group, some of which can also have their own sub-types, but you don’t need to think about that yet. You can also search by general strife specubus, like bladekind, nubkind – with ‘nub’ standing for any blunt body part – gunkind, utensilkind, and- ooh they have a clawtoothkind, that sounds like your kind of thing.

You click the header and are presented with a dropdown list, upon which you quickly locate your specubus of clawkind. Looks like you would suit quite a few classes, most of which appear to be aimed at Midbloods and Lowbloods. You’ve never even heard of some of these, not that you keep up to date with military stuff like some of the others, but it’s still surprising just how many different specialities there are.

Pen and paper in hand, you read down the page slowly and carefully, being sure not to miss anything. Thankfully, each class has a handy description underneath it, giving you a little insight as to what you’d be in for. Slashinary? No, you don’t want to be a blade for hire, that’s more Vriska’s deal. Abradator? Nah, too official-sounding. Hmm, Hunttacker maybe? You guess you’d be classed as a Hunttackress, which sounds pretty cool.

The description says that you’ll be sent out to hunt down big nasty beasties, either alone or in groups. You could totally work with that; it’d be just like when you would hunt in the forests around your old hive. Then you notice that it says you can bring your Lusus and quickly throw your idea of having three options out of the window, because this is definitely the class for you.

Hah that was easy, you don’t know why you didn’t do this sooner. You grin and bring up the application form, but then all of your enthusiasm is gone because wow, this thing is really complicated and you are definitely going to need help with filling it in. Good thing Terezi is due home in a few hours, Karkat will be no help in his current state and Equius may be your Moirail, but he can be a little…. Pushy.

***

You spend the rest of the day doing research on the academy you’ll be attending, which coincidentally enough is connected to Karkat’s. You’d thought that there would have to be a lot of schoolfeeding buildings to have a different one for each class, so the knowledge that some of them share facilities comes as no surprise. You guess you’re technically attending the ‘bladekind’ academy, but it seems that most people just tag their institute’s name with whatever class they’re studying in. It makes things a little confusing, but hopefully you’ll get used to it.

The outdoor training areas look great, and there are good reviews of the food there – as expected of somewhere that trains hunters – but you’re a bit nervous about staying on site as a resident. Maybe you’ll talk to Equius again later and see how his request to have you live with him is coming along, because you don’t really want to be homeless after everyone else moves out and it would be unfair to make Terezi stay just for you.

Speaking of Terezi, she comes through the door a few moments later, absolutely soaked but with a smile on her face as she greets you. You didn’t even realise that it was raining.

“How was your night?” You ask, eager to tell her about your new goal for the future.

“Great! I’ll tell you all about it after I get changed.”

She dumps her coat into the sink, but then on her way to your shared respiteblock, she tiptoes to Karkat’s door and opens it slightly.

“Purrezi.” You hiss.

She waves a hand at you dismissively and pokes her head through the doorway. You get up and creep over, taking a moment to admire Karkat snoozing in his recuperacoon – you’re so glad he’s finally getting some sleep – before you leave him to his hopefully nice dreams. Terezi heads off to change her clothes, joining you back on the sofa in a fluffy teal sweater. You snuggle up into your own olive cardigan, hugging your knees to your chest as she begins to tell you about her night.

“Okay so my evening lecture was the same as usual, not boring but just, you know, the same, but then after that I got called in to be part of the jury in our mock court room, which was the most fun thing I have ever done!” She abruptly goes quiet, putting her hand over her mouth.

You listen to see if Karkat has woken up, but when everything is silent Terezi just shrugs.

“That does sound fun,” You say in a hushed voice, “so what was the verdict?”

“We found the accused guilty as charged,” She giggles, “but it was just practice so they weren’t too bothered. We had lunch together afterwards and Lalita came to sit with us, which was totally rad because all the other Trolls in my class were asking me how I knew someone in the sweep above us and saying how cool it was.”

“Is Lalita our neighbour?”

Terezi nods, “She won’t be home for a while though since the second sweeps have more classes than us, but I’ll be sure to introduce both of you to her sometime. Did I miss anything here tonight besides Captain Sea-germs?”

“Yes!” You spring up and grab your husktop, “I’ve decided on my specialisation; I’m going to be a Hunttackress! But I need some help with the forms, they’re so complicated I don’t even know where to start.”

“It’s great that you’ve chosen one, and don’t worry, I am all over this sort of thing.”

You pass her your husktop, answering all the questions she asks over the hour that it takes for you to fill everything in. Then after one last read through, you send your application off to the academy.

“You should know in a few days at the latest,” Terezi says, “but I doubt they will reject a fantastic hunter such as yourself.”

“Why thank you.” You reply, putting on your best 'posh' role-play voice.

The two of you then proceed to have possibly one of the worst RP sessions in history – deliberately of course – where you put on funny voices and can barely get your lines out without giggling. Somehow Karkat manages to sleep through all of this, only emerging from his block when you and Terezi begin making dinner. Okay so you don’t actually do any of the cooking, you just chop the vegetables, but it still counts.

He still has some sopor in his hair and the bags under his eyes are darker than usual, but he does look marginally better than he did this evening.

“Before you ask, yes I am feeling moderately less shitty than I did earlier, no I haven’t looked at those stupid text books yet, yes I just woke up, no I do not intend on getting dressed properly, and yes I do want some of whatever is boiling in that pot.”

He sounds better too, jumping in before you can even open your mouths with his usual Karkatty attitude. Seeing this improvement makes you smile, but Terezi doesn’t seem too impressed, her lips set into a disapproving line as she turns to face him.

“I wasn’t even going to ask half of those questions, but thanks for the bonus info I guess. Also, would it kill you to say please?”

Karkat huffs loudly – only coughing a little, unlike before – and folds his arms, “Yes I do want some of what is boiling in that pot, please.”

Terezi smirks, “Of course you can have some Karkles, it’s beastmeat stew by the way.”

“Great, thanks.” He gives you a deadpan thumbs-up, and then plants himself on the couch after flicking on the TV.

Dinner is a mostly silent affair as you sit through one of Karkat’s shows, the longest conversation being a rushed explanation of the plot before he tells you to “stop asking questions and just fucking watch” then turns the sound up for good measure. You can forgive him for being moody, it’s awful being sick and he’s probably worried about his induction exam tomorrow night. You’re sure he’ll pass though, he may say that he hasn’t done much studying, but he knows more about Threshecutioners than anyone else and this is what he’s wanted for sweeps.

You just hope you have long enough to cram some information on the Hunttackers in your pan, because until a few hours ago you had no idea they even existed. Tomorrow would probably be a good time to start on that, especially since you’ll be home alone and probably very bored, which would normally be a reason to waste your time on what Equius calls ‘useless endeavours’. Not a single minute shall be wasted tomorrow night, you tell yourself. You will be ready for that test, even your pan turns to mush afterwards.

Chapter Text

==> Karkat, freak out

Pfft, freak out? Who’s freaking out? Not this guy. No way. Karkat Vantas does not ‘freak out’, he simply worries in a way that causes his gastric sac to try and invert itself. Oh Gods you hate that feeling, it is not what you need this evening, especially after your sinuses miraculously cleared overday and you thought that maybe, just maybe, you were better. But nope, you’ve lost one source of discomfort only to be laughed at by fate and handed another.

At least you won’t have to worry about not looking green if your make-up comes off. Why did you decide to be an olive-blood again? It would have been much easier to just pretend you were a rust-blood whose horns got cut off, instead of going for something on the opposite end of the Goddamn colour spectrum Karkat, you blistering idiot. This line of thinking does nothing to settle your nerves so you quickly put an end to it, refocussing your attention on the inside of Gamzee’s scuttlebug.

You weren’t surprised to find out that he was the owner of the impressive vehicle you saw parked nearby when you first arrived, and it’s just as fancy on the inside as it looked on the outside. It’s so long that you had the option to sit sideways, or even backwards, but you decided that good old forward facing motion would be easiest on your queasy stomach.

You don’t think you’ve ever travelled in a generic scuttlebug before, one of the small four-seaters with thin lining on the seats so that you can feel the bug’s inner workings pulsing underneath you. You’re glad this is the case, because sitting in what sounds like a giant, bionic blood-pusher sounds quite unsettling.

The ride doesn’t take nearly as long as you wanted it too, and before you know it you’re pulling up alongside the academy entrance with its big walls and iron gates and this really fancy building looming behind them. You swear, most of the city is just walls and fucking gates. Oh and it’s started raining, great. You thank Gamzee for the ride and pull up your hood, waving to him as his driver takes him away to his own academy.

To the side of the gates, you spot a card scanner. It’s still nerve-wracking to run your ID underneath it, even though you know by now that it’s going to work. Probably. There’s a pause. No? Then the gates fold open. Oh thank God, yes, your card is still valid. You quickly pass through, sticking to the side of the first building as you make your way to its entrance door. You assume this is where you go, but the signage here is terrible.

When you pass by a window, you see lots of other trolls standing around in a large room inside, most of them not in uniform like you. This sight causes your stomach to lurch, sending a fresh wave of nausea to the back of your throat. You’ve never been in such an enclosed area with so many Trolls before. What if they see through your disguise and attack you? Or what if they don’t and beat you up anyway? Even if it doesn’t happen tonight, any injury you get will be a huge giveaway, and it isn’t exactly easy to just not get hurt, you just aren’t that good of a fighter. Oh God this was a stupid idea. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stu–

“Hey, are you gonna open that door or what?”

You almost jump out of your skin, whirling around to face the person who spoke. Then you have to look up because he’s like three hands taller than you. He’s also wearing sunglasses, at night, in the rain. What a pretentious douche. You scowl and turn away from him, then pull the door open and head inside.

Crap that was so embarrassing, you only just stopped yourself from shrieking like a baby Lusus. Hopefully he’s a student and not an instructor, which seems likely considering he was wearing a beanie. You hear him shuffle in behind you and start walking a little faster down the hall to the next door. He doesn’t follow you through this one. Good. That wasn’t a great first impression for someone in your class.

You ignore the fact that everyone stares as you enter, finding a nice spot in a corner to stand in whilst you wait for… Whatever happens next you guess. More students file in, all drenched and shivering and nervous, just like you. You start wondering if any of them are hiding something; a mechanical limb or some other form of handicap. None of them run any cooler than olive by the looks of it though, so even if they are it’s not really going to impact their social standing. Not like yours.

Half an hour of waiting later, and an obviously adult Troll enters the room. He’s as tall as a tree and built like the trunk of one, with horns that point down on the left and up on the right. Were they hatched like that or did something twist one of them around? The thought of this makes the base of your own horns tingle unpleasantly, the way your nose does when you watch someone else get punched.

“So, you think you’ve got what it takes to be a Threshecutioner?” He booms, eyeing the crowd in front of him with what can only be described as disappointment.

Well excuse you, it’s not your fault that you all look like a bunch of drowned squeakbeasts. He then continues on talking about principles, and how it’s going to be hard work, and you need to pass standards or you’ll get ‘dismissed’ aka culled. It’s the usual spiel that all academies present their new recruits with, and you only really listen when he moves on to the night’s itinerary.

Apparently you’ll be given a tour, then take a written exam, then be sent home. Nice. You can already tell that you’re not going to get any sympathy from here. Which is good, you guess. You don’t want to be treated differently, you just want to be a normal Troll, going to a normal academy, and then getting a normal job.

Even though this campus serves far more students than some of the others – since Bladekind is one of the more, if not the most, common strife specubi – it’s the same size as the Highblood one next to it. So predictable, you bet they’re in there with plush seats in some fancy lecture theatre, whilst you’re stuck with those infuriating, wooden fold-out chairs that all connect to each other. You are surprised to see both heating and air conditioning units though, which is far more than you expected. The canteen is also pretty nice. So are the dormblocks, if a little basic.

It seems that you’ll be sharing with two or three other Trolls if you’re allowed to move into one. It’s not too different from your current setup, but something about it just doesn’t sit right with you. You’re going to have to do it at some point, you know, but you’re not even adjusted to living with your friends yet, let alone complete strangers. Strangers who would have no qualms about reporting you if they catch you without your contacts in, or your make-up on. They might even decide to cull you right in your ‘coon on the first night if they notice.

No, you can’t think that way. You’ll be fine, you can figure something out when the times comes. You’ve got to pass this Goddamn exam first. The large Troll, who’s name you have yet to learn, takes you to the ‘great hall’ and assigns each person a desk number. It looks like you’re being combined with the other classes, as you notice the guy from earlier sauntering over to a chair at the back. Still wearing his sunglasses too, the smug bastard.

You had been trying not to think about the exam, but there’s a sinking feeling in your gut when the paper is slapped down in front of you. Damn, this motherfucker is thick. No wonder you’ve got three hours to get through it. Another adult Troll reminds you of this – as well as going over rules on not accessing your Sylladexes or using any technology – then tells you to begin.

The first question makes your pan go blank and you start to panic, but once you calm down with a few deep breaths, the answers gradually start worming their way out of your memory. It’s okay Karkat, you can do this, remember all of those shitty textbooks you read. You can’t let them win, not tonight, you took their knowledge and you are damn well going to use it.

You don’t think you’ve ever written solidly for more than a few minutes before, so cramps quickly become an issue, and the last question is an essay that you think has actually caused permanent damage to the tendons in your left hand, but you finish it with just enough time to scan back and check that you’ve answered everything. Not necessarily correctly, just that there’s something written or marked for each question.

It’s a huge relief when the papers are finally collected, taking away your opportunity to change anything you’ve written. You’re not normally a positive person, and tonight is no exception, but you think you may have done enough to pass at least, which is all that really matters. You can show them what you’re made of during your actual classes. You sneak a peek at the training yard as you’re all ushered outside. It looks like a muddy bog with wooden frames and training dummies slowly sinking into it. Not very impressive, but then again not much is when it’s been drenched by rain.

Two squawkbeasts fly overhead as you walk away, screeching at each other and then settling themselves on the roof. You really hate those things. Then you hear a whistling sound and the squawkbeasts take to the sky again, circling a couple of times before landing on the fence next to…. Sunglasses guy? He decaptchalogues two boxes, using a gloved hand to lift the creatures up one at a time and put them inside. What the fuck is he doing? If there was only one you would assume it was his Lusus, but two? The closest anyone’s come to having two Lusi is Sollux – fucking captain bifurcation, of course – and even then it’s just a two-headed one.

Oh, he waved. You look around and promptly realise that you’re the only one in this direction. Shit, he was waving at you because you were staring at him like a weirdo. Should you wave back? No, that would be even weirder. You decide to swiftly abscond before he comes over and talks to you or something. Your palmhusk buzzes in your pocket, giving you a good reason to look like you’re not available for conversation.

turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG]

TG: hey

Wait, who the hell is this? turntechGodhead? ‘Pestering’? Some asshole must have the wrong person. And the wrong text colour, jeez, it's almost making you nauseous to see your blood colour so bright on your screen like that. You continue walking and prepare to block them, when another message comes through.

TG: dude i said hey
TG: dont walk away and ignore me like im last perigees grubloaf

Did they say walk away? No, it’s a coincidence, there’s no way. Still, you throw a cautious glance over your shoulder like the gullible fool you apparently are. The Troll with the sunglasses is holding his own palmhusk, and when he notices you looking, he waves again. You quickly turn away, feeling like you’re in a bad movie. You should just block this creep and get on with your life. But then what if he gets mad and decides to bully you for the next three sweeps? It's probably best to just sort this out now,

CG: WHO ARE YOU AND WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU GET MY TROLLHANDLE FROM
TG: davryn stridr
TG: and tz gave it to me
CG: TZ?
CG: WHO IN GOD’S NAME IS TZ?
TG: terezi
TG: terezi pyrope
TG: the chick you live with
TG: ringing any bells
CG: HOW DO YOU KNOW HER????
TG: im your neighbour
CG: NO, OUR NEIGHBOUR IS A TEAL BLOOD LEGISLACERATOR.
CG: YOU’RE THE PRICK WHO WEARS SUNGLASSES AND GOES TO *MY* ACADEMY.
TG: haha
TG: oh my god
TG: tz didnt tell you
CG: TELL ME WHAT?
TG: the one youre talking about is lalita
TG: im her blockmate man

Oh. Oh God. He’s got to be joking. This is a joke. Somehow this guy got ahold of your Trollhandle and decided to mess with you. Using rather specific aspects of your life. Oh God if he knows that then what if he knows about your blood? Is that why he's typing in red? What if Lalita made Terezi tell her and now this guy has come to hunt you down? He’ll start off all nice and ‘neighbourly’ then one night you’ll wake up in a chains with a culling fork to your throat.

Wait, shit, you didn’t reply and now he’s sending more messages. Fuck.

TG: okay you obviously dont believe me
TG: seeing as youre standing there like a pandead idiot and not replying to my messages
TG: ill get terezi in here to straigten shit out
CG: WHAT????
-- turntechGodhead [TG] has invited gallowsCalibrator [GC] to the conversation --
GC: H3Y D4V3!
TG: hey
TG: capslock mcgreyscale here doesnt believe that im really your neighbour
TG: can you explain this apparently unfathomable concept to him
CG: I DID NOT SAY THAT YOU CRAMNOOKED LIAR!
GC: K4RK4T PL34S3 DONT 1NSULT OUR N31GHBOUR
CG: WAIT WHAT?
TG: told you dude
CG: SHUT UP!
GC: LOOK K4RKL3S
GC: BOTTOM L1N3 1S TH4T D4V3 1S OUR 4W3SOM3 N31GHBOUR 4ND 1 G4V3 H1M YOUR TROLLH4NDL3 B3C4US3 1 KN3W TH4T H3 WOULD B3 4T YOUR 4C4D3MY 4ND 1 HOP3D YOU WOULD G3T 4LONG
GC: 4LTHOUGH TH4T OBV1OUSLY 1SNT GO1NG TO WORK WH1LST YOUR3 TOO BUSY B31NG A GRUMPY P4NTS
CG: I AM NOT!
CG: IT IS PERFECTLY RESONABLE NOT TO TRUST INFORMATION GIVEN TO YOU BY A STRANGER WHO CONTACTS YOU OUT OF THE FUCKING BLUE, AFTER WAVING TO YOU LIKE A CREEPER WHO HAS NO CONCEPT OF WHAT IS AND IS NOT THE SOCIAL NORM.
GC: S111GH
TG: haha oh man
GC: K4RK4T C4N YOU PL34S3 JUST TRY 4ND B3 C1V1L FOR 4 M3R3 TWO M1NUT3S 4ND 1NTRODUC3 YOURS3LF TO D4V3?
CG: FUCK NO!
CG: WHAT’S THE POINT OF INTRODUCING MYSELF WHEN YOU’VE ALREADY SAID MY NAME A BUNCH OF TIMES?
TG: yeah
TG: karkles is right
CG: IT’S KARKAT, SHITHEAD.
CG: IF YOU'RE GOING TO INSIST ON USING MY HATCHNAME UNDER THE FALSE BELIEF THAT THIS FIVE MINUTES OF TALKING THAT BARELY QUALIFIES AS A CONVERSATION HAS SOMEHOW MADE US FRIENDS, THEN THE LEAST YOU CAN DO IS TO GET IT RIGHT.
TG: i would say nice to meet you
TG: but i wouldnt want to be a cramnooked liar
CG: FUCK YOU.
CG: THERE, WE'VE BEEN INTRODUCED, ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?
GC: Y3S 1 4M >:]
GC: AND 1 TH1NK MY JOB 1S DON3 H3R3
GC: YOU BOYS C4N 4RGU3 TH1S OUT WH1LST 1 DO SOM3TH1NG 4CTU4LLY WORTHWH1L3 W1TH MY L1F3
-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] has left the conversation --
TG: wow good job chasing your girlfriend off
TG: she ollied out quicker than a longtailed meowbeast in a room full of rocking devices
CG: OH GO SHOVE A THROBSTALK DOWN YOUR WASTECHUTE AND CHOKE ON IT.
CG: SHE’S NOT MY GIRLFRIEND.
CG: YOU’RE AN ASSHOLE.
CG: THIS CONVERSATION IS OVER.

carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased trolling turntechGodhead [TG]

You just about resist the urge to throw your palmhusk against the wall and shove it into your pocket instead. You also do not look back at where Davryn is probably laughing his ass off about how completely fucking ridiculous that conversation was, and how admittedly stupid it made you look. You bet Terezi planned it like this. She’s probably expecting you to blow up about it when you get home, so that she can poke fun at how much of a ‘grumpy pants’ you are.

Well the joke is on her, because you’re not going to mention a single line of this exchange, and if she brings it up you will tell her how delighted you are to have met a random Troll that she’s invited into your circle without consulting anyone else. Seriously though, once she’s stopped finding it funny you might have to have a word with her about just giving out people’s Trollhandles. Yours specifically. Especially to adults she’s known for less than a perigee.

Chapter Text

==> Sollux, escape

Escape, hah, that’s such a dramatic way to put it. Your name is Sollux Captor and you’re not ‘escaping’, you’re just sneaking out for a bit. And by sneaking, you mean literally waltzing past the front gates of the palace, because the guards are all brawn and no brain so they apparently can’t recognise the only psionic within a mile if he has his hood up. It’s really hard not to laugh when you just hold up a messenger bag and an empty, sealed envelope, and they immediately let you through. Fucking hell these people are stupid, it’s a good thing Feferi has you and Kanaya to be the brains of their operation. You bite back a chuckle and wave to them as you pass, keeping your walk steady and casual until you’re technically out of the palace grounds. Unfortunately, that was the easy part. From now until you get back, you’re not the Heiress’ Matesprit, you’re just a Lowblood without a single credit to his name. Looks like you’re walking then.

The sky has procured an impressive layer of dark clouds by the time you reach what is – hopefully – Karkat’s hivestem. It feels strange that he’s living in one now and not you, and as you dart inside just as it begins to spit with rain, you get a pang of nostalgia right to the gut. Then you groan because his apartment is on the third floor and those stairs are going to kill your already tired legs, but you can’t use your psionics in case someone comes out of their room and sees you just floating there. You don’t think “Oh yeah I’m just the Second Imperial Psionic visiting his friends, please don’t tell the palace” would cut it as a reasonable explanation.

You’re a little out of breath at the top of the last step, and take a moment to try and not look worn out before knocking on the door. It opens almost immediately and before you know it, you’re sprawled on the floor under Nepeta.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry!” She quickly scrabbles to her feet, “Pawlux?”

You notice now that your hood has fallen down, but decide to leave it there as you swap out your sunglasses for your regular ones, “Hey NP, in a hurry?”

She grins and does a few little hops on the spot, then seems to remember something, “Yes! My induction! I have to go!”

You move your feet to let her past, “Have fun.”

“Thanks Pawlux!” She shouts back, almost rebounding off of the wall when she turns to begin descending the first set of stairs.

***

==> Karkat, talk to Sollux

Sollux? Why on Alternia would you talk to- oh, Sollux is standing at your door. Or, well, he would have been if Nepeta hadn’t barrelled into him. You can’t blame her though, she’s probably panicking about her entrance exam. You’re expecting your results today, but you’ve been trying not to think about it. Terezi has made several comments already about how quiet you have seemed lately – even you’re beginning to notice now – and brooding about the future definitely won’t help that.

“Hey KK, mithed me?”

Sollux is taller than you remember, and also looks…plumper than last time you saw him, not drastically, but there’s less of the usual hollowness in his cheeks. It suits him, you note, with every ounce of platonic un-quadranted appreciation. Such is the life of the Heiress’ Matesprit, he probably has meals brought to him on demand without even having to leave his computer.

“As if, I was actually getting used to not having to see your text all over my screen on a nightly basis, that shit gives me eye strain, you know that? You’re lucky I even put up with you and your two complex, I think I might end up cross-eyed one day and it’ll be all your fault, have fun living with that nugget of wisdom on your shoulders.” You reply, feeling a smirk tug at the corner of your mouth.

He smirks back, “You jutht find it difficult becauthe you’re too much of a blithering idiot to underthtand half the shit I thay, quirk or no quirk. And if we’re getting into the thubject of damaged retheptorth, then how about the fact that your voithe cautheth me ear thtrain? Ever thought of that Vantath?”

“Well according to you I’m too stupid to read basic Alternian, so you can probably answer your own question with that one, assuming I haven’t made you deaf already just by opening my squawkblister in your presence.”

“Oh thorry KK did you thay thomething? I wath too busy cleaning your latht thententhe out of my earth.”

“Hey, either break it up or get a room.” Terezi jeers from the couch, giving you both a wide grin.

You wrinkle your nose at her in a mock snarl, “Oh whatever, haven’t you seen two Trolls having a platonic argument before?”

She chuckles and holds up her hands, “Don’t go getting me involved in your little lovers spat, it’s not exactly in my life’s plans to get stuck being your Auspistice.”

“Good, after seeing the fate of your stupid stuffed dragons there’s no way I’d trust you to settle any of my arguments, I’d sooner let my Lusus Auspisticise for me than trust one of your ‘coin flips of justice’ or whatever fucked up legalities you work on.”

Instead of retorting like usual, she just laughs again and reaches up to give Sollux a hi-five.

“What the hell was that?” You look between them, getting more confused by the way they’re both smiling like the meowbeast that got the cream.

“I was celebrating the success of my plan,” She replies, seeming proud, “and in record time too.”

“Plan? What sort of fuckwadded ‘plan’ could you have possibly cooked up that involves me and Sollux in a room together?” You feel a flush of warmth in your cheeks and promptly order it to go the fuck away as you continue, “Don’t you dare tell me that this is a shipping thing, the only thing I can imagine that would make me want to tear my bulge off and bleed to death more than Nepeta trying to set me up, is having you trying to set me up.”

You meant that to be serious, but the only thing it accomplishes is to draw out more laughter from your teal-blooded companion. Oh great and Sollux too, because he really needs another reason to make fun of you.

“God KK calm down, I’m not trying to get involved with your prethiouth quadranth, I know you keep them locked up tighter than Ampora’th jeanth like they’re the thecret to the fucking univerthe or thomething. Which I thtill think is thtupid by the way, I mean I thought I wath antithocial but wow. fuck.” His tone gradually slips from joking to sounding half-serious, with the final word coming out in a sharp bark.

You’re often convinced that he can’t actually control the random ‘fuck’s that he shouts at the end of sentences, but if you mention it then he flies off the handle, so you keep your suspicions to yourself. It’s not like he’s hurting anyone anyway, it’s probably just another one of his Psionic ticks, like how his eyes twitch occasionally or static jumps between his horns.

“Anyway,” Terezi says slowly, “The reason Sollux came over was to try and make you act normal again.”

“Normal? I am normal, I’m perfectly normal, I’m so fucking normal that I –”

“Well you are now,” She interrupts, “but you’ve been acting really weird since you got here, the only time you come out of your block is to eat or watch TV, you barely talk unless Gamzee is around – you didn’t even lose your shit about the Dave thing.”

“Okay firstly, that one was planned, Stridr doesn’t deserve the energy I would spend getting worked up about a few stupid messages,” You tell her, “secondly, I was sick for three days and had my induction exam to worry about at the same time, which I’m still worrying about and will continue to do so until I get my results. And thirdly, this is not only the longest I’ve ever gone without seeing my Lusus, but I’m also in a completely different place with no way back and I have to live with other trolls for the first time in my entire life. Not to mention the fact that I thought I was going to fucking die last week before I even got here. I think I’m entitled to be a little quieter than usual whilst I get my pan to sort it’s shit out.”

All they do is stare at you with blank expressions. Good, they shouldn’t have any retort for that fucking stellar explanation you just served up on their verbal nutrition platters.

“So why didn’t you tell me any of that sooner?” Terezi asks eventually, looking at you as if this is your fault.

“Because you didn’t need to know, I talked to Gamzee about it and I’m fine now.”

She sighs like she’s going to argue, but keeps her lips firmly pressed together. Then they relax to form a mischievous little smile.

“Are you two going to hug now or do I have to make you?”

You and Sollux give each other the exact same sideways glance, one that says ‘we can hug if you want but we don’t have to’, maintaining it until Terezi reaches around to prod you in the back, hard enough to shove you into the yellow-blood’s arms.

“I didn’t know you felt thith way KK.” Sollux teases, as he catches you in a rather ungraceful position under the armpits.

You stand up and kick him in the shin – drawing a satisfactory wheeze of pain from him for your troubles – but then put your arms around his neck anyway. You’re not going to say it aloud, but you’ve actually missed your… Uh… Let’s just say he’s your best friend. Sure, that works. You flirt in pretty much every quadrant, and even though it’s never serious, you’re probably closest with Sollux out of everyone. Close enough to give each other a particularly tight squeeze before the customary ‘pat on the back then step away and cough’ routine. With anyone else, it would be awkward, but you know that under all his hostility and insults, Sollux never says no to a hug. Just like a certain other Troll that you know.

“So, you’ve been looking at Eridan’s jeans Sollux?” Terezi says, taking the words right out of your mouth.

To be honest, that line probably worked better with her snarky tone anyway, so you’ll let her have this one.

“Ugh no, ath if.” He tries to seem nonchalant about it, but his voice betrays him by shooting up a few levels.

You exchange a knowing look with Terezi, ready to take your turn teasing him about it, when there’s a knock at the door.

“Speaking of tight pants.” Terezi mutters as she stands up to answer it.

“That’d better not be ED.” Sollux hisses.

You sort of hope it is Eridan, seeing as you haven’t talked to him since he dropped you off on your first night here, which means you also haven’t gone to see Crabdad yet. Then when you see who is at the door, this sentiment only grows stronger. You recognise shades mcdouche bag and feel your expression sour on impulse. Even when a Troll that you assume to be Lalita follows behind him, you still can’t find it in yourself to smile. You know you’re an adult now too, but the thought of talking to someone older still makes you want to find a quick excuse to leave. Sollux also looks uncomfortable, and politely excuses himself once the doorway is clear.

“Thpeak to you later KK.” He says, giving you and Terezi quick smile, before pulling up his hood and leaving your hive. Lucky bastard.

“That was our friend Sollux.” Terezi explains to your neighbours. Then she turns to you, “Karkat, this is Lalita and Davryn, guys, this is Karkat.”

“Hey.” You hold one hand up in an awkward half-wave, then shove both of them in your pockets.

Davryn just nods, but Lalita smiles warmly.

“It’s nice to meet you Karkat.”

No offense to Terezi, but Lalita is more refined than your own teal-blood, with long, straight hair and a sense for putting colours together that would have Kanaya turning green with envy. She’s also stunningly beautiful, which you can appreciate but for some reason feel absolutely no attraction to. You guess you’re going to figure out your preferences by being exposed to so many different Trolls. Not that it matters, but it will be interesting to know all the same – hey, an off-spectrum outcast can dream can’t he?

“Likewise.” You reply, deciding that short and sweet is probably the way to go in this conversation.

Terezi brings you all a drink, hissing in your ear that you’re to “stay put and be nice” as she passes by. You mumble a “fine” and plop yourself on the couch.

Thankfully, Terezi and Lalita end up doing most of the talking, swapping stories from their classes and the latest ‘cases’ they’ve been reading about. In spite of her almost permanent smile, Terezi never looks quite as happy as when she’s discussing all this legal stuff, her grin natural instead of a taunting façade. You find yourself smiling a little as you watch her, but quickly drop it to a scowl when Davryn decides to pay you back for staring at him the other night.

You mouth a very nasty “What?” to him, showing more of your teeth than necessary. He replies with a shrug and then turns his attention back to the girls. Fucking asshole. He’s lucky that Terezi is here, or he would get such a tongue-lashing. The verbal kind, not the physical kind, obviously. Fuck, why did that even cross your mind? Wait, they just said something about your academy, shut up Karkat’s inner monologue.

“Yeah I got my notice about an hour ago,” Davryn says, “I’m officially a Slashinary in training.”

You think he’d be proud about it, but his expression remains blank apart from the tiniest little twitch that could possibly constitute as a smile.

“Oh you got your results already?” Terezi tilts her head, switching her attention to you, “Have you checked your inbox recently Karkat?”

“I looked this evening.” You mutter, pulling out your palmhusk.

Oh, you’ve got an email. From the Academy. You can feel the nerves working their way from your frantic blood-pusher down into your shaky hands, so you quickly open the message before your pan can start giving you reasons to prolong it.

-- To: Karkat Vantas

From: Bladed Specubus Academia

This message is to inform KARKAT VANTAS (ID #61921A) that they have been ACCEPTED into the THRESHECUTIONER department of the BLADED SPECUBUS ACADEMIA.

We expect to see you for your first official day as our student on 11^th BILUNAR PERIGEE OF THE 6^TH DARK SEASON’S EQUINOX.

Academy Overseer, Tiyree Mianak --

You blink at the screen, half expecting the words to change every time you open your eyes. You got accepted. You did it. You’re going to be a Threshecutioner.

“Karkat, what’s it say?”

Terezi’s voice makes your head snap upwards, and after processing her question, you reply.

“I got in.”

“You got in? Karkles that’s great!” She hops over from the other couch to give you a tight squeeze around the shoulders.

“Thanks.” You think you’re smiling as you say this, but you’re too busy to care about anything other than the words your eyes have been drawn back to.

KARKAT VANTAS. ACCEPTED.

Chapter Text

==> Tavros, get lost

Yeah, uh, that happened a while ago. Your name is Tavros Nitram and you have already been lost for quite some time. Getting into the city was easy enough, if a little nerve-wracking because your new robotic legs seized up during the last part of the shuttlebug journey, but thankfully everyone just assumed that your totally normal legs had gone numb. This weird grub thing approved yours and Tinkerbull’s papers, and the drones let you inside the gates before locking them behind you. That was when things started to go wrong. It was simple just to follow everyone else, but after the crowd dispersed and you were standing on your own holding Tinkerbull on a leash, you suddenly felt incredibly, painfully small.

You’d checked the address Terezi gave you a billion times on the way there, and for a second you had a glimmer of hope that you knew where you were going. Then you saw the river and realised that you were on the completely wrong side of the city, with absolutely no clue of your location or that of your destination. People give you weird looks as you walk back and forth between streets and buildings, desperately trying to find somewhere that you recognise on Terezi’s – admittedly difficult to read – map. As an added challenge, Tinkerbull quickly tires of his leash, and begins trying to drag you this way and that so he can sniff at things or settle on windowsills. Then the wind begins to pick up and all your shivering, little Lusus wants to do is curl up in a corner.

You shuffle off to one side of the pavement, hiding from the wind under an awning as you pull our your palmhusk. Tinkerbull settles between your horns with a snort, his tiny hooves like ice on your forehead. He must be cold, the poor thing; you’re wearing three layers and you can still feel the chill. You sigh and lean against the wall when you see that nobody is online. They’re not even idle – at least then you could send a message to get their attention – their names are completely greyed out. Well, greyer in Karkat’s case. Actually you can’t tell for sure that he’s offline, but you’re too scared of getting yelled at to message him anyway.

Then you feel something nudging at your leg. Tinkerbull jumps into the air, fluttering around your head and pulling at his lead. You look down to see what all the fuss is about, startled to find a large, white animal with its jaws around your ankle. Oh God. Should you scream? This would be painful normally, right? But then what if it gets scared and just bites through your leg? You suppose you could tell it to let go, yeah maybe you should -

“Hey, c’mon, knock it off!” A bespectacled Troll sprints across the road and grabs the creature by the collar.

It immediately releases your leg, sitting obediently with its tongue lolling out whilst the Troll reattaches its lead.

“I am so sorry, I opened the door for a just second and he was out.” He offers you a sympathetic smile, which is surprising considering he’s a blue-blood. “Are you hurt?”

“Oh, uh, no, it’s fine.” You reply, looking down at your jeans.

Thankfully there’s only a few little scuffs to show where the animal’s teeth were.

“Oh hey is that your Lusus?” The Troll asks, gesturing to the fairybull still panicking above you.

You nod, “He’s called Tinkerbull.”

“Aw, sorry for scaring you little guy,” He says, “this axoldile is mine, he’s called Colonel Sassacre and he’s a bit of a handful.” He laughs a little and pats the axoldile – you’ve never seen one of those up close before – on the head. “Oh and I’m Johann by the way,” The Troll extends his hand out to you, “is this your first time in the city?”

Okay this guy is officially the friendliest Highblood you’ve ever met, other than Feferi and Gamzee, if you count not caring who you talk to as friendly. Part of you wants to question why he’s being so nice, but you’ve learned not to look a gift hoofbeast in the mouth, especially if said hoofbeast happens to have blood of an influential status.

“Tavros,” You shake his hand, “and uh, yeah.”

“I thought you looked a bit lost, but don’t worry, I was the same when I got here a few perigees ago,” He laughs a little, as if remembering his own wayward travels amongst the city streets, “so are you going anywhere in particular Tavros?”

“Uh, here.” You show him the address that Terezi sent you on your palmhusk.

“Oh sweet, my friend lives in one of those apartments! Don’t worry, I can get you over there in a jiffy.” He gives Sassacre’s leash a tug and begins walking back the way you came – typical, “Come on, it’s this way.”

You grab Tinkerbull and follow him, tucking the fairybull under your jacket to shield him from the cold.

“Are you, uh, sure this is okay? Taking me there I mean, like, um, I wouldn’t want to be a bother.” You stumble over your feet as you do the same with your words.

You’ve been working on your speaking and projection, but it’s hard to sound confident when you’re lost in a place you’ve never been before.

He shrugs, “I haven’t got anything to do until midnight, so why not spend my free time helping someone?”

“O-okay, um, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He grins back at you, then turns to continue walking.

It turns out that you had gone past several of the turnings you could have taken, but you were right in thinking that your new abode was on the opposite side of the river. Johann talks a lot on the way, mostly pointing out good places to eat or places connected to his friends, and you’re content to just listen and make affirmative noises every so often.

“And we’re here.” He says, stopping outside one of the smaller hivestems.

“Thanks.” You gaze up at the third floor windows, wondering which one of them is your new home.

“No problem. Oh, we should swap handles before I go,” He pulls out his palmhusk, “if you’re cool with that.”

“Yeah, uh, sure.” You turn the screen of yours to face him.

“Sweet.” He mumbles, typing in your name and then smiling.

A moment later, you receive a message.

ghostyTrickster [GT] began pestering adiosToreador [AT]

GT: hey! :B

‘Pestering’? Also wow that text colour is bright. His blood is definitely on the blue spectrum, but there’s no way it’s that.

“My friends and I use Pesterchum by the way, you’re using something called Trollian, right?”

That explains it. You’re so used to Trollian that it seems strange for there to be other chat clients.

“Yeah, our uh, coder friend made it, kinda.”

“Cool, well I’ll see you around Tavros.” He walks past the entrance to the building, giving you a wave once he’s a few paces away.

You wave back, then push open the door and step into the hivestem.

***

==> Karkat, receive good news

Good news? How are you supposed to receive ‘good news’ when you’re bored shitless in a lecture? It’s your first night at your new academy, and the initial few hours were better than you thought; you got to see some cool weapons that they have in storage, they taught you a bunch of different battle stances, and even learning about the history of your class was pretty interesting. Then after a fairly decent lunch, you were launched into a three hour tactics lecture. You didn’t think it would be too bad, but oh boy were you ever wrong. How can there be so many different ways to just sneak up to someone and fucking behead them? That’s what Threshecutioners are for; quick kills that nobody knows about until the more powerful classes are already decimating the rest of their forces.

But of course, you have to learn about every single possible scenario, starting with ‘bogs and fog’. Fucking fascinating. Actually, if this asshole had stopped talking about it after the first hour and a half, you think it would have been, but by now you’re almost falling asleep. Some of your classmates have in fact already nodded off, including an olive-blood a few seats over who you’re sure is on the cusp of starting to snore. You’re going to hit him if he does. To make matters worse, your palmhusk has had about seven messages in the last forty minutes, and your fingers are practically tying themselves in knots with the urge to answer them.

If you were really stealthy…

Maybe you could just…

Sort of…

Take a peek?

“Alright.”

You were seconds away from opening your Sylladex, when your lecturer’s voice freezes you like a guilty statue.

“We’ll have a ten-minute break, then begin a discussion on the logistics of how valleys affect the movement of fog. You may leave the room but not the campus.” She nods and then steps down from her podium, turning off the old-ass projector that she had been using to put up all sorts of diagrams and notes.

Oh joy, that sounds really interesting. But thank fuck, a break. You pull your legs up onto the chair and decaptchalogue your palmhusk. Oh God. The messages are all from Eridan.

caligulasAquarium [CA] began trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG]

CA: hey kar
CA: ivve got some newws youre gonna like
CA: KAR
CA: are you fuckin ignorin me or somethin
CA: oh right youre in class
CA: i forgot you wwere enterin the wworld a learnin tonight
CA: ill just leavve these for you so you can reply wwhen youre done getting schoolfed
CG: WOW NOOKSTAIN
CG: YOU COULDN’T WAIT MORE THAN TEN FUCKING MINUTES BEFORE ACCUSING ME OF IGNORING YOU?
CA: look i said i forgot you wwere busy alright
CA: i dont get much free time nowwanights so i like to take advvantage of it
CG: DO YOU REALLY HAVE NOTHING BETTER TO DO THAN TALK TO ME?
CA: a course not kar youre like my best fuckin friend

You hope you’re not visually cringing as you read that line. It’s not that you don’t like the thought of being best friends with Eridan, and there’s no doubt about the sincerity of his statement, but whilst you’re probably the only one he says that to, you’ve got at least two other Trolls lined up to fill that position for you.

Time to sidestep this potentially awkward situation like the pro you are. Or try to at least.

CG: THEN YOU’VE GOT WORSE TASTE IN TROLLS THAN I THOUGHT.

Fucking nailed it.

CA: careful kar youre startin to sound awwful pitiful there

Dammit. You didn’t hit the nail hard enough.

CG: OH MY GOD
CG: JUST SHUT YOUR CHUTE AND TELL ME ABOUT THIS NEWS OF YOURS AND WHY I’M GOING TO FIND IT SO FUCKING INCREDIBLE
CA: i believve i said that youd ‘like’ it
CA: but that wwas probably a bit of a modest description if im bein honest
CG: FOR THE LOVE OF ALTERNIA JUST SAY IT AMPORA
CA: okay okay
CA: so after youre done wwith learnin wwhatevver shit youre learnin
CA: i am takin you to vvisit crabdad
CG: OH FUCK REALLY?
CA: really
CG: NO SHIT!
CG: THAT’S ACTUALLY PRETTY AWESOME
CA: i knoww right
CA: so howw much longer are you gonna be
CG: I’LL BE DONE IN LIKE AN HOUR, PROVIDED THAT I DON’T DIE FROM SPONGE-ROTTING BOREDOM FIRST
CG: WHERE SHOULD I MEET YOU?
CA: front gates maybe
CG: COOL, SOUNDS LIKE A PLAN
CA: great sea you then

caligulasAquarium [CA] ceased trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG]

Okay, you totally underestimated Eridan’s ability to make you smile, this is probably the best news you’ve had since finding out you’d been accepted into your academy. Well, you guess it was pretty nice for Nepeta to get in to hers too, but the way she almost burst your eardrums made it a less enjoyable experience on your end.

Thankfully that conversation only wasted half of your break, so you take the remaining five minutes to stretch your legs a bit, before settling in for what proves to be the longest hour you’ve experienced recently. The lecturer’s tone has failed to gain any variance after their coffee – if anything you think they sound almost as bored as the class is – to the point where you find it genuinely difficult to take in what they’re saying. But that doesn’t matter, it’s all a bunch of shit anyway, and there’s always the internet or Eridan if you need to know about anything later. God, you’ve never thought that you’d be so excited about your pan conjuring the image of his stupid finned face.

You then surprise yourself yet again, by feeling even more excited when you see the aforementioned fins, wiggling either side of the stupid face they’re attached to. Although when he meets you right outside the building with a precipitation shield for the two of you to share, this is quickly overshadowed by embarrassment. You duck under the shield and grab the handle, dragging Eridan in the opposite direction to the rest of your class.

“I thought we agreed to meet at the gates?” You hiss after slowing your pace.

He shrugs, “It’s rainin’ so I thought I’d be nice an’ not make you wwalk through it.”

You roll your eyes, “You didn’t have to though, being pissed on by clouds isn’t going to kill me.”

“That’s not the point, an’ as I keep tellin’ you Kar, I really did.”

You huff but decide to let the conversation trickle into silence, listening to the rain pattering on the shield above your head as you walk. Then as your mind wanders, so does your hand, slipping downwards over something that’s slightly warmer than the metal handle your fingers had been clasped around. Eridan flinches and almost drops the thing completely, and you get a nice shower of rain on your head as you jump back. Smooth Karkat.

“Sorry,” Eridan mutters, now holding the handle with both hands, “fuckin’ handle’s all fuckin’ wwet an’ slippery.”

“It’s fine.” You mumble in reply, praying that your make-up hasn’t been washed off.

The rest of the walk passes in a predictably heavy silence, until Eridan veers off to the left and down a flight of steps, stopping outside an entrance that you didn’t even realise was there.

“This is the place.” He says, holding the door open for you after stepping inside.

The first thing that hits you is the smell; it’s as if someone is alternating between waving fish and seaweed under your nose, then every so often they spice things up with a splash of disinfectant. There’s also the constant humming that sounds like it’s coming from under the floor, light vibrations occasionally rippling beneath your feat.

“Where the fuck are we?”

“It’s the Aquatic and Semi-aquatic Lusus Containment Centre, but wwe just call it the Aquarium. Crabdad is through here.”

He leads you down a hallway, passing at least a dozen doors on either side before finally opening one. It opens out onto possibly the biggest room you have ever been in – it’s at least four times the size of your lecture theatre – and also the strangest. Apart from a small, fenced-off rectangle around the doorway, the whole floor is covered in a layer of dirt and sand, and there’s a pool of water off to one side that reflects the artificial moonlight in glowing waves against the ceiling.

Eridan whistles and climbs over the fence, whistling again after receiving a neigh and a few clacks in reply. You’d know those clicking sounds anywhere. You quickly hop over and join him, just as Crabdad scuttles into view from one of the many rocks dotted around, heading straight for you before you can even get both feet on the sand. Seahorsedad also pops out from somewhere, gliding over to rest beside Eridan. You would ask why both Lusi were in here together, but you’re too preoccupied with getting fussed over by your guardian. He screeches and clicks whilst pulling at your hair and clothes, then finally bends down to let you loop your arms around his neck.

You click back as you press your face against his carapace, squeezing your eyes shut so that you don’t cry like the big wriggler you always turn into during moments like this with your guardian. You’d spent so long preparing for the actuality of leaving your Lusus forever that a couple of weeks should have been nothing, but if anything, knowing that you’ll see him again at the end of it just made you all the more anxious. Then as Crabdad begins to preen your hair, you notice three purple spots; one on each claw and the other at the back of his head.

“What are these?” You ask, rubbing at them in vain to see if they come off.

“Markers,” Eridan tells you, “it tells people that he’s got a licence an’ is a Lusus to someone in the city. Stops anyone from gettin’ the bright idea to hunt him.”

“But why are they purple?”

“Because I’m the one protectin’ him.” Until now he had been preoccupied with stroking his own Lusus, but with those words he turns to you, an odd softness in his eyes. “I could protect you too, if you’d like.”

Your mouth falls open, but the words ‘where the fuck did that come from?’ refuse to get past your vocal chords.

“I knoww you’re probably dreading livvin’ in the dormblocks, an’ I’m not gonna pry as to wwhy, but I just wwant you to knoww that there’s alwways a spare ‘cupe at my place for you.” His gaze drifts back to his Lusus, the violet tinting his cheeks just visible in the weird lighting this place has.

How are you supposed to respond to that? He basically just implied that he knows you’re not an olive-blood, and then instead of threatening to kill you, he asked you to move in with him. He offered to protect you, like the Highbloods Feferi talks about with her new definition of culling, taking in the downtrodden freaks to keep as pets.

“E-Eridan, I, uh.”

He winces, “It’s fine, I get it, wwho’d wwanna livve wwith me right? Bet you’d rather take your chances –”

“No, it’s not that,” You manage to find your voice and cut him off, “fuck Eridan, you can’t just start throwing yourself a pity party because someone might say no, it’s not always about you alright? People have other problems to deal with.”

Okay that definitely came out wrong, you could tell that without the way he’s trying to stare a hole through the sand behind his Lusus. Oh God, he looks like he’s going to cry. You’re torn between wanting to slap him and wanting to pap him. You’re the worst friend ever.

“It’s not you, it’s me,” You tell him, hating yourself for using such a cliché line, “I’m being a huge wiggler because a part of me still wants to go back to the way things used to be, but I know that’s never going to happen, so I need to move on and do stuff by myself.”

He nods.

“So yes, I am saying no, but it’s not for the reasons you think.”

Another nod.

“C’mon man, say something, you look like you’re gonna start crying.”

He scoffs, a slight sniff afterwards the only betrayal of his emotions, “Amporas don’t cry.”

“You sure about that?” You say, giving him a light jab in the arm, “Because I distinctly remember you bawling your eyes out over that boat movie you made me watch.”

“I wwas just appreciatin’ the plot,” He manages a haughty smirk and pokes you back, “an’ I distinctly remember you needin’ your owwn box a tissues.”

The two of you chuckle slightly, completely avoiding the subject of Eridan’s suggestion as you continue to chat and spend time with your Lusi. You can’t believe the big fucker of a bullet you dodged there; past experience tells you that the situation could have ended so badly, like losing Eridan as a friend completely and potentially making an enemy out of him badly. You’ve never known someone as pompous as him to be so fragile on the inside. You bet Vriska and Feferi still have no idea what their break-ups did to him. Well at least he’s still got gullible old Karkat Vantas to stop him from doing anything stupid. Gods know he needs it.

***

==> Terezi, go home

You are Terezi Pyrope, and you have just arrived at your hivestem to find a familiar face sitting in the lobby.

“Tavros?”

The Bronze-blood lifts his head and smiles at you, “Hey Terezi.”

You grin back, gesturing for him to follow you up the stairs, “I’m glad you got here alright, I was getting worried when you didn’t message any of us.”

“Well, I would have but uh, you were kind of offline.”

“I was?” You take out your palmhusk, frowning when you see your name greyed out on Trollian, “Shoot I meant to leave it on idle tonight, sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, I um got some help, from some guy who knows your neighbours.”

“Was he a blue-blood with square glasses?”

He gets to the top of the stairs and raises his eyebrows, “Yeah, uh how did you...?”

Your grin widens at Tavros’ surprise, “Davryn told me about his friend Johann who likes to help out strangers.”

“Oh, it’s kinda weird.”

“I think it’s nice.” You take out your keys and unlock the door, excited to show Tavros around his new home.

You also shoot Dave - Davryn's nickname - a quick message of thanks to pass on to Johann. Hopefully you'll get to meet him and Dave's other friends soon, they all sound really cool and it'd be nice to have more familiar faces around the city for everyone. Karkat probably won't like it, but he is not the boss of you, no matter how much he seems to think that he needs to Lusus all of his friends.

Chapter Text

==> Karkat, turn nine

You don’t feel any different when you wake up, aside from this nagging in the back of your pan that you’ve forgotten something. Did you unplug your husktop? Yep. Is it still a piece of shit that won’t charge? Yep. Fantastic, just what you wanted. You don’t have classes tonight though, which is a bonus. Actually you don’t think anyone does.

Oh God, now you remember, it’s your ninth wiggling day, or night as it should be, you’re really not sure why it’s tagged onto the day part of the bilunar perigee. Maybe grubs hatch during the day or something? Whatever. You stop thinking about grubs and prepare yourself for the inevitable onslaught that your hivemates have waiting for you in the livingblock.

Just as you suspected, you open the door and walk straight into a mass of rainbow paper chains, with more hanging on the walls and ceiling all over the livingblock. Then as you duck under decorations over the doorway, the smell of meat frying mixed with something sweet hits your nose. Okay, you can totally forgive the colourful paper if someone’s making food.

“Hey Terezi what’s for breakfa– Eridan?”

Well that’s not what you were expecting. Upon entering the nutritionblock, you see both Terezi and Eridan standing by the food preparation area with cooking utensils in their hands.

“Evening Karkles,” Terezi says with a grin, “Happy wriggling day!”

“Oh! Evenin’ Kar,” Eridan briefly turns away from the waffle iron to look at you, “wwaffles, bacon or both?”

You should shout at them for springing this on you, with no warning or even subtle hints. Especially Eridan, who you didn't expect to ever do something like this, and Terezi, who should know what you think of surprises by now. But the rage just isn't there. You're not even remotely angry at them and for a moment all you can do is stare, then your stomach takes charge and gives a loud rumble. The questions can wait, food is more important right now, especially when it’s bacon and fucking waffles.

“Both.” You reply, your eyes being drawn to the four tier sweet-and-salty tower that Terezi begins constructing on a nutrition platter.

“Syrup?” Eridan asks, retrieving a bottle from the cupboard.

You nod eagerly, licking your lips when he adds a generous helping of the sticky, sweet sauce.

After he’s done, he passes you the plate with a smile, “Happy wwrigglin’ day.”

“Thanks.”

It takes a fair bit of concentration not to topple the stack on the way to the table, and Terezi’s mocking definitely does not help, but other than a bit of syrup dripping on your hands, your breakfast remains intact.

“Happy wriggling day Karkat!” Nepeta and Tavros chime as you take your seat.

You’ve already shoved half a waffle and a slice of bacon into your mouth, so you just nod in acknowledgement. You also can’t help letting out a loud ‘mmm’ that’s almost a purr; these waffles are so much better than the ones you used to heat up out of the thermal hull, and the bacon is all crispy just the way you like it. Terezi and Eridan join you with their own plates piled high, pulling up chairs on either side of you and then glaring at each other before beginning to eat.

As you look between them, you realise that you have two friends who can cook better than your Lusus, and your pan starts to scream ‘Matesprit material!’ like your life depends on it, but you ignore it and carry on eating. It would be ridiculous to fall flushed for someone just because they can make a decent breakfast, especially considering said breakfast was a platonic collaboration between two of your friends.

“So besides the obvious,” you say once you’re half way through your meal, and can finally restrain yourself enough to speak, “why are you plying me with food as soon as I wake up?”

Eridan shrugs, “There is no other reason.”

“Yeah,” Terezi agrees, “this is the first time you’ve let us celebrate your wriggling day, we want it to be special.”

You raise an eyebrow at them; those two never agree on anything. Not to mention that Eridan fucking Ampora is in your tiny, shared hive, sitting at a table with a bunch of ‘Lowbloods’ and eating food that was made by one of them.

“Is this a new Highblood thing? All this ‘celebration’?” You make physical enclosure talons on the word ‘celebration’, “Because I don’t remember anyone except Feferi getting this excited about a wriggling day, and she’s always excited so that doesn’t count.”

“Okay so some of us might havve gone a little ovver the top,” Eridan says, obviously talking about the state of your livingblock as he drops a sideways glance to Nepeta, “but we are makin’ up for eight missed swweeps here, it’d be plain fuckin’ rude to not do something out a the ordinary for you.”

“So we,” Nepeta puts her arm around Tavros’ shoulder, shooting Eridan a quick glare, “thought that decorations would make a nice change.”

“Actually, this was kind of, mostly, Nepeta and Terezi’s idea,” Tavros adds, “but we all joined in, because you’re our friend.”

“We all?” You question, trying not to sound angry, “That implies more than two extra people Tavros, what do you mean by ‘we all’?”

He shrinks back in the chair, his eyes darting between the three of you, “Uh, well, um…”

Terezi sighs, “Don’t go losing your shit or anything, but we invited everyone else to come over later.”

“You what?” Your fork slips out of your hand and clatters onto the table.

Did they suddenly forget that half of your friends are on the verge of killing each other?

“Eq is busy though so he probably won’t make it, and Sol an Fef have to stay at the palace,” Eridan says, completely ignoring your reaction, “but Sol said he’d vvideo chat wwith you after you’vve opened your presents.”

“Presents? Plural?”

Instead of replying, they all pull out packages of varying sizes from their Sylladexes, each one wrapped up with colourful paper and ribbons. You put your head in your hands, dragging your fingers down your cheeks as you look back up at your friends and their smug grins.

Then Terezi’s changes to a frown, “What’s with that face?”

“I’ve been fine with not having any of this before, why are you all making such a fuss?”

“For the last time fuckin’ Kar, wwe wwant to do this for you, so let us,” Eridan almost sounds annoyed with you, “an’ besides, you gavve us presents on our wwrigglin’ days, it’s only fair that wwe get to do the same.”

He’s making it out like they’re more enthusiastic about giving presents than receiving them. You guess that makes sense, you were never bothered about getting anything – hence why you didn’t tell them your wriggling day – but you would spend ages looking for just the right thing for each of your friends, especially this sweep when it was their ninth.

“Okay fine,” You roll your eyes, and then give them a slight smile to show that you’re not really mad, “just don’t blame me if this whole thing turns into an utter shitshow.”

“Not on our watch!” Terezi punches the air, a wide grin back on her face.

Nepeta squeals and giggles, shaking poor Tavros so much that he almost falls out of his chair. They must be really excited about what they’ve got planned. This is going to be… fun? Yeah, let’s hope for that.

Gamzee arrives a few minutes later, pulling you into a rib-crushing hug and wishing you a ‘happy motherfucking wriggling day’. You get a bit embarrassed when he starts talking about your hatching being a miracle, but you have to admit you are starting to feel a bit less awkward about the prospect of having a ‘party’ now. After releasing you, he finishes off what’s left of the food – you think Terezi and Eridan went a little overboard for just five people – then adds his present to the pile in the middle of the livingblock.

You feel strangely guilty looking at your presents, but also eager to see what’s inside them. There’s never really been an opportunity for your friends to give you anything major before, so you have no idea what they could have chosen. You’ve got some theories of course, but not anything solid. Then you remember the cloak that Kanaya made for you and decide to wear it for when she comes over, clipping the little crab into place just as she walks through the door.

Her eyes light up when she sees you and you’re worried that she’s going to start crying, but then she just hugs you, her expression happy and composed by the time she lets you go.

“I’m so glad you like it; I was concerned that you would think it was a little too much for your usual manner of dress.”

You tell her that of course you like it, because who wouldn’t like a comfortable and practical cloak that was hand-made by one of their friends? Her delighted reaction to your answer gives you pale flutters in your stomach, and as you glance around at your friends eagerly waiting for you to open their presents, you wonder if this whole night is just going to be you systematically getting pale-crushes on each of them. God, you really need to sort that part of your pan out, it’s a good thing that Gamzee’s so tolerant and possibly also oblivious to your internal diamonds fiasco.

You wait a few minutes longer to see if anyone else shows up, but predictably – and also thankfully – Equius and Vriska show no sign of attending. Right, present time. This is either going to be amazing or completely mortifying. The first one you pick up is from Nepeta, wrapped in green paper with little meowbeast faces all over and tied up with strips of leather. You give it the mandatory shake and squeeze, then tear off the paper to reveal a rather fancy box with the word ‘Quadrants’ written on the top. Nepeta urges you to open it, and inside you find four thick books, each one named after a quadrant.

“It’s a series I thought you’d like,” She tells you, “since you’re into reading and stuff now.”

You turn to thank her and get swept up in the moment enough to give her a hug. You can tell that she’s having a hard time not squealing, and when you pull back there’s a split second where you can feel her trying to hold on. Okay maybe that gave some mixed messages about the unrequited nature of her apparently-no-longer-existent crush on you, but whatever, it’s your wriggling day, and she probably would have gotten upset if you’d left her out of the inevitable cuddle-fest that was about to occur.

Tavros is up next, and you’re honestly not expecting much out of his orange bag – you’ve never really talked all that often one-to-one – so it’s a pleasant surprise when you find a DVD and a box of sweets amongst the grey tissue paper. But not just any DVD and sweets, this is in fact the specific move that you have been wanting since it came out last perigee, and your absolute favourite liquorice Scotty dogs.

You must have still looked shocked when you turned to thank him, because he discreetly nods at Terezi and Nepeta, implying that he was given some help with his shopping. You open the bag of Scotties immediately and stuff a few into your mouth, handing them back for everyone to share so that you can tackle the next present. Somehow you don’t think Tavros will be bothered about not getting a hug.

You end up needing a pair of scissors for Feferi’s, which seems to have just been swathed in an entire roll of bright pink ribbon. But it’s well worth the struggle when you uncover a large shell, which has your name carved into its pearlescent surface. You make a mental note to send a thankyou message later, and carefully set it aside. Next, you decide to open the bright red present that is obviously from Terezi, which you could tell even without looking at the ‘Karkles’ tag written in chalk.

Oh God, it’s squishy. You raise an eyebrow at her and give it another prod, unnerved by the way she grins as you begin to cautiously remove the paper. Your fingers meet with something soft when you stick them inside the open package, and after getting a firm grasp on the mystery item, you close your eyes and pull out a… Plush, white crab?

You half-laugh as you stare into its beady black eyes, then twist around and catch Terezi in a hug, “Thanks Terezi.”

“No problem.” She says, ruffling your hair.

The contact doesn’t last long though; it was awkward enough having Nepeta try to hang on to you, but Terezi brings this to a whole new level whilst also making it feel completely comfortable and natural. You really wish that your pan didn’t find it so difficult to decide on quadrants, it’s like as soon as it picks one for someone, it immediately feels the need to throw a couple of others into the equation just for shits and giggles.

When you reach for your next present, you notice Eridan fidgeting in his seat like he’s going to explode if you don’t choose his – you can tell it’s his because it’s purple and gold, and possibly the most immaculately wrapped present you have ever seen – so you decide to deliberately save that one for last, and instead open Gamzee’s. Eridan’s is also the largest, which worries you slightly, so you’d probably wait anyway even without the added satisfaction of watching him squirm.

Gamzee chose this exceedingly bright, shiny paper, and you actually have to squint as you tear through it. The first thing you see is the ‘Thresh Prince of Bel Air’ logo, followed by a black scribble underneath it, and then a piece of paper falls into your lap. You fail to not giggle like a wiggler when you realise that you’re holding a signed copy of the Thresh Prince Companion Book and Autogenography, complete with a certificate of authentication.

“Where the hell did you get this?”

Gamzee shrugs, “I just pulled a few motherfuckin’ strings for my invertebrother.”

At a loss for what to say, you carefully set what may be the best present ever on the floor, and throw your arms around him, “Thank you so much.”

Hopefully the others won’t feel too put out by your reaction; all of your presents have been amazing, but you can’t really top something like this.

“Not a fucking problem bro.”

You cut the hug short and give him a light kiss, silently promising that you will put up with whatever manner of pale snuggles he wants later. Wow you’ve never felt so cuddly before, or so…happy. Yeah, you’re really enjoying this, as surprising as that seems when you think about how nervous you were before. Past Karkat was so stupid to hide your wriggling day from everyone for so long.

You were half expecting Sollux to put your gift an encrypted lockbox or something, but the parcel is wrapped with paper just like the others, blue and red striped paper to be exact, with a little bee tag of course. After making the first tear, you notice that it is in fact two boxes held together by string. One is a game grub online bundle package, where a single grub acts as an activation code for multiple games that you download onto your husktop, whilst the other is one of the new, ergonomically designed, cordless controllers.

There’s also a small note that says;

‘Hey KK, get good and play the2e wiith me

                                           – 2ollux.’

You roll your eyes and tuck the note into the grub box, then put both things in the un-wrapped pile. You’d be considerably more excited if you actually had a working husktop to play these on, but if anything you’re now even more determined to get your old heap of shit up and running again.

“You left me ‘till last on purpose didn’t you?” Eridan says when you finally pick up his present.

Jeez this thing is heavy, what did he put in here?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You smirk at him and begin undoing the first bow.

He sits forward so far that he almost falls out of his seat, watching you remove the paper with wide eyes and a smile hidden behind his scarf. You open one end and slip all of the packaging off in one go, almost dropping the contents once you see what it is

“Holy shit,” You set down the box and stare at your brand new, scaleplate shelled, chromipan processor, state of the art husktop, “is this…? Are you serious? And for me?”

He nods excitedly.

“Eridan I, I don’t know what to say.”

“Just say thanks an’ enjoy it.”

You’re about to do just that, throwing in a hug for good measure, when you catch him giving Terezi a smug, sideways glance. Did he buy you this just to outdo everyone else? Gods know he’s got enough credits to just blow them on whatever the fuck he wants. It’s true he’s never bought you anything before, besides the odd DVD, and it would also explain why he was so insistent on coming over – he must have been otherwise Terezi and Nepeta wouldn’t have let him in. But, no, he wouldn’t do that right? Wouldn’t use you just to get at your friends, especially because those friends are all Lowbloods, there’s no way he would waste however much this thing cost just to prove that he’s better than them, his lineage probably assures him of that already.

“I think you broke him.” Terezi snarks, making you suddenly remember that everyone is still watching you and waiting for a response.

“Oh, right, thanks man this is awesome.” You move onto your knees and go against all of your better instincts to give Eridan a hug.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t cling to you like you expected. Just a light embrace and a pat on the back. Is he mad at you for not making a big fuss or something? Oh wait, he’s getting something out of his Sylladex.

“You’re wwelcome Kar, an’ I havve somethin’ else too,” He says, a handful of cloth now in his hands, “I finished it this evenin’ though so I didn’t really havve time to wwrap it.”

You sit back and cock your head, “Finished it?”

He silently straightens out the fabric and hangs it around your neck.

“You made me a scarf? I didn’t even know you could knit.”

“A course I can, I made mine wwhen I wwas like five.” He puffs out his chest to put emphasis on that old scarf he always wears. In fact, the only time you seen him without it is when he’s in his FLARPing costume or academy uniform.

You press the cloth of your new garment between your fingers, resisting the urge to rub it on your face because it’s so soft and thick and warm. It’s also stripy like his, with the colours alternating between black and dark grey with a hint of red. You wonder what made him choose such a specific colour, but decide that this isn’t the time to question it. Then you catch him looking all proud and smug, and have half a mind to call him out on it anyway. But you don’t, because that would probably set off a drama bomb that you really don’t need right now.

Instead, you decide to set up your new husktop. God, wow, it’s so much faster than your old one, and although the operating system will take some getting used to, it doesn’t take long for you to set up Trollian and get Sollux on a video call.

He’s sitting at a rather cluttered desk, wearing a black and gold jacket over his usual tee and a golden band around his wrist, the fuchsia gem stones scatted along it glinting when he brings up a hand to adjust his glasses.

“Hey, I wath wondering when you’d finally call me.” He says with a completely unnecessary eyebrow wiggle.

You roll your eyes, but before you can say anything, he interrupts.

“Oh and I know about the new huthktop by the way, I’ll get all your shit ported over from the old one when you vithit.”

“How? And what do you mean when I visit?”

“I thpoke to ED and we worked it out together,” He clasps his hands to his chest, “for you KK, I cooperated with the biggetht douche on the planet, for you.”

“Yes, yes and I’m so very grateful.” You lace your tone with sarcasm, folding your arms and leaning back against Eridan’s leg.

It’s difficult being friends with both of these assholes, constantly having to reassure them that you’re not taking sides.

“Anyhoo,” He continues, “FF thaid she wanth you to come and thee her at the palathe thometime. it’ll probably take a while but we have your thcedule tho I’ll let you know when it’th all thorted.”

Since when did Sollux use the word ‘anyhoo’? Feferi must be rubbing off on him; it’s like the fish puns all over again.

“Okay,” You reply slowly, slightly unnerved by how calm and organised he seems, “well I just wanted to thank you for the game grub stuff, and to let you know that I already am good, so we can play anytime once everything is installed.”

“Right, thure you are,” He snickers, “I’ve got to go and thort out thome shit for FF, honethtly it’th like I’m the only Troll in thith plathe who actually knowth how to uthe a fucking databathe without crashing the whole Goddamn thythtem, but jutht methage me later and I can thrath you ath much ath you want.”

“I think you’ll find I’ll doing the thrashing, seeing as I’m the only one can actually fucking say it properly.”

Anyone listening would think you were having an actual argument, but Sollux is smiling the whole way through, and it’s not until you say goodbye and try to relax your aching cheeks, that you notice you must have been too. You don’t think you’ve ever smiled for this long, is this what it feels like to be Terezi? That girl must have face muscles to rival Equius.

You set your game grub up to install, and then everyone finds a spot in front of the TV to watch your new movie. They wait on you prong and nub, not letting you move from your position on the couch between Terezi and Eridan – that is until you have to explain to them that you don’t need help using the load gaper. Said two Trolls also defend their seating arrangement with vigour, sending daggers to anyone who tries to steal one of the spots when they get up. Again, you thank every God you can name that Gamzee is so fucking tolerant. Normally you might find all the coddling a little annoying, but you can put up with it tonight, and by put up with you mean take complete advantage of.

Chapter Text

==> Eridan, check out the neighbours

You haul yourself up onto the fence, quickly realising that it is a very awkward place to sit and you’ll probably regret this decision later when you have a purple line across your rear. Getting to watch the new recruits makes up for the discomfort though, especially since Karkat is one of them. As far as you know, they haven’t had much formal training yet, so this will just be a test of skill to let their instructor judge how to proceed – if they still want to take them on at all afterwards, that is.

Thirty or so Trolls are led out of the main Threshecutioner building, mostly of greenish-yellow hues, but you spot the odd rust or bronze here and there. Then there’s Karkat of course, who still manages to be one of the shortest people, both height and horn wise. The uniform suits him though, with its high-waisted belt that gives him adorably slight curves, and the rather snug pants that it attaches to. Mhmm and those boots. No, stop it Eridan, you’re not supposed to perv over your friends. You give yourself a mental slap on the wrist, but continue to stare all the same.

“Enjoying the show?”

You almost flinch yourself off of your perch, only remaining upright by digging your claws into the wood. Rosali has snuck up on you as per usual, and is leaning on the fence with a book in one hand and a coffee in the other. You swear that girl is trying to give you a pusher-attack. Rosali Lalond is a purple-blood that’s borderline sea-dweller, only lacking a functional set of gills to go with the miniature fins on the end of her ears.

Like you she was fast-tracked through her first sweep of training, so she’s the only person who will actually talk to you in this place, other than when the older students want to pick on you. She isn’t part of your course, instead aspiring to join the ranks of the Grimneedlers, but you have a few classes together and share an interest in magic – which is still fake – and literature of a fanciful or historic nature. She also finds you ‘psychologically intriguing’ when you whine about your life to her, which you suppose is better than ‘annoying’ or ‘boring’.

“Didn’t think to bring me one then?” You say, pouting at her drink.

She rolls her eyes, decaptchaloguing another cup and passing it to you with her telekinesis. At least you’re pretty sure it’s telekinesis; even if it is a rare talent amongst the higher castes, there’s no other way you can think of to explain a cup floating into your hands surrounded by a black aura.

“Don’t say that I never do anything for you.”

“Thanks Rose.” You smirk and take a sip. Ah, nice and creamy, just the way you like it. “An’ for your information, yes I am enjoying the showw and shall continue to do so no matter howw much you nag me about gettin’ to class.”

“Nag someone? Me?” She says, joining you on the fence. “I’m hurt that you think I would ever do such a thing.”

You raise an eyebrow at her and drink some more of your coffee. You’ve only known Rosali for a few weeks, but the two of you have settled into a rather agreeable friendship and you trust her. Enough to tell her that you know some lower-caste Trolls anyway, and it turned out that she knows some as well. Not as many as you do, but you’re both still more socially equipped than most Trolls of your age.

She chuckles slightly, “So, is your friend in that group?”

“Yeah, he’s the short one near the middle.” You discreetly gesture to where Karkat is, not wanting to make it obvious that you’re pointing to him.

“Ah I see, he really is as petite as you described, though I suppose that is typical of his caste.”

You just nod at this, filling your mouth with coffee in hopes of avoiding giving her an answer. She thinks Karkat is an olive-blood, just like everyone should. Like you should. But you can’t. In fact, the only thing his make-up and contacts tell you is that he is definitely not anywhere near that part of the spectrum. Which is a good thing, because as much as you like Karkat, you’ve got it hard enough being younger than everyone in your class, never mind the flack you’d catch for having a Lowblood in a red quadrant.

As far as you’ve heard, only Gamzee, Terezi and Nepeta know his real blood colour, but the rest of you all have your own theories. Most of them assume he’s a rust or bronze with no powers and stunted horns. Both of these are reasonable explanations for his disguise, but you have more solid evidence lurking in your think pan. The memory of a surprised little face, cheeks flushed cherry red as you pull away from your first kiss, with him, with your best friend. You were too flustered to look properly at the time, but there’s no way a normal red-blood could be that bright, or that warm. Karkat has no idea of your suspicions, of course. You’ll ask him when the time is right. Or even better, he’ll tell you, show you just how much he trusts you and let you in on his deepest secret.

“I’m sorry, am I interrupting something by being here?” Rosali says, giving you a smirk.

It takes a few seconds to gather a reply, and you’re pretty sure you’re you look like an antlerbeast in headlights right now, “Oh uh, no, not at all.”

She evidently does not believe you, but decides to change the subject onto something you have equal distain for.

“Have you made any friends besides me yet?”

You groan and feign almost slipping backwards off of the fence, leaving yourself hanging down with your back to the wood.

“That’s a no then.” She says as you pull yourself back up.

“I’m not here to make friends,” You grumble, “I’vve got enough already an’ all they are is a nuisance.”

She pats your back, “Sure, you keep telling yourself that.”

You’re about to rebut with the fact that she’s only got five friends, compared to your ten – and Sollux – when you’re both distracted by the Threshecutioners beginning their drills. They’re ordered to run laps, scale obstacles, behead training dummies, hit moving targets. You feel a pang of nerves as your eyes follow Karkat around the field, but to your relief he performs admirably, managing to clear every task no matter how many times he ends up slipping over in the mud.

Some of the other students from your academy also gather to watch. Most just talk amongst themselves, but some choose to holler taunts and slurs at their struggling neighbours. A few sweeps ago you would have joined in, and perhaps if Karkat wasn’t there you might be tempted to now, but in your current mind-set it just makes you want to knock their teeth out. Thankfully, Rosali acts before you have a chance to show yourself up.

“Don’t you have something better to do?” She snaps at them.

You can’t see her face, but from their expressions you’re guessing she’s giving them one of the death-glares that you know all too well. You make sure to give any that look at you a similar treatment; nobody makes fun of Karkat except for his close, personal friends. They mumble and growl to each other, but eventually decide that they’d rather leave than get into a fight. Wise choice, you think, glaring at them as they walk away.

You watch Kar – uh, the group – train for a little longer, then when they stop for a break you resign yourself to going to your next class. Ugh, trade history is so boring. Although, you do make a short detour to talk to Karkat on the way.

You deliberately sneak up on him, getting a completely immoral level of enjoyment out of watching him – and the Lowbloods he’s sitting with – almost piss themselves, when you pop your face over the fence and shout, “Hey Kar!”

For a few seconds they all look like startled hopbeasts, then Karkat recovers his composure and smacks you over the head.

“Don’t fucking do that!”

“Oww.” You put up your hands to shield yourself from any further attacks.

Somehow Karkat manages to bypass this and give you another smack. You pout at him, but he doesn’t buy it. Probably because you’re too smug to make your reaction convincing, even if it did actually hurt quite a bit.

“What do you want?” He growls, completely unaware that his classmates are staring at him as if he’s challenging a drone to a showdown.

You shrug, “Just wwanted to pop by and say hello, I wwas wwatchin’ you train an’ you were doin’ better than I expected, thought you might like a congrats or somethin’.”

“Oh,” He seems to be deciding if that was a compliment or an insult, then thankfully chooses the former, “thanks I guess, but did you really have to scare me like that?”

“I wwas testin’ your reflexes, think they still need some wwork.”

“Oh fuck off and go learn about boats or something.”

You try to pat his head and receive an angry – adorable – growl in return, getting your hand batted away as if it’s a buzzbeast.

“Try not to make an idiot a yourself wwhilst I’m gone, people’vve seen you wwith me noww so I’ll be embarrassed by association.”

He glares at you for a second before a smirk breaks through, “Same goes for you Captain Fishface.”

You stand up and dust yourself off, “Oh please, I’m royalty.”

“How could I forget?” He scoffs and shakes his head, but then returns the smile you flash him before heading off to class.

***

==> Karkat, be the centre of attention

No. No, no, no. You will not be the centre of attention. You will never ever be the centre of attention for as long as you remain on this shitty planet, or any other object floating aimlessly in space. Unless, of course, your entire class sees you not only talking to a sea-dweller, but hitting and arguing with one.

“What?” You demand from the Trolls gawking at you.

“You know a sea-dweller?” A little rust-blood asks, her hands still clasped to her chest from when Eridan scared the living nightlights out of everyone.

You shrug, “Yeah, we’ve been friends for sweeps.”

They exchange glances between them that range from scared to amazed. Oh yeah, you forgot that most warm-bloods haven’t ever met a sea-troll before, let alone endured a mutual affliction of friendship with one. They’d shit a brick if they found out you knew the future Empress.

“Is he your Moirail?” An olive pipes up, and it might just be the look on his face but he bears a startling resemblance to Nepeta.

You scoff, “No.”

“Matesprit then?” Another one asks.

“No!”

The first olive gasps, “Kismesis?”

“No, no and no!” You shout at them, running a hand roughly through your hair, “We’re not quadranted okay? We’re just friends.”

They almost seem disappointed. Is it imprinted in olive-bloods to be obsessed with quadrants or something? God help you if it is.

“Well I know a sea-dweller too.” A bronze-blood states proudly.

Her declaration is met with replies of ‘no way’ and ‘like hell you do’, but then she starts elaborating on this mystery fish in her life and suddenly the limelight is pushed onto her. Good, now you can relax in peace and not worry about getting so annoyed that you melt your make-up off.

The rest of the night passes without incident, nary a fin in sight as you finish up your training and head off to get cleaned up. Most other people use the communal showers, but even if you weren’t trying to hide your blood colour, there’s no way you’d strip off in front of people who are barely your acquaintances. Instead, you’ve developed your own alternative of washing your face and hands in a sink, changing into some clean clothes, smothering yourself in foundation, and then hoping that nobody notices the dirt in your hair as you ride the shuttlebug home to take a shower.

It’s rare that you’re the first one back, so you end up walking into the door after trying – and failing – to push it open. Glad that nobody else was in the hallway, you unlock the door with your cheeks burning and head straight to the ablutionblock. The dirt is predictably glued to your hair, so it is only after a vigorous scrubbing that the water around your feet finally loses its brown tinge. Remarkably, you escaped the day with nothing but a few grazes and bruises that can be easily covered by your clothes. Not that you’re going anywhere else tonight, especially after you curl up on the sofa with of Honour and Haemospectrum, diving into Ezbeth’s comforting world of good, old-fashioned romance. Man, what the fuck happened to all of that?

***

==> Eridan, be called for an after-classes meeting

When you walk into the room and then close the door, you do so under the scrutiny of a pair of deep purple eyes.

“Sit down.” Their owner tells you, her black lips twisted into a half-smile.

You take your seat, finding yourself having to look up at her even when you sit with your back completely straight. Her horns are some of the most remarkable you’ve ever seen, spiralling in giant coils above her head and adding an extra three hands or so to her already imposing height.

“Eridan Ampora, ID number 6a006a,” She opens a rather thick file and flicks through the first couple of pages, “a violet blood of the highest caste, fast-tracked through the foundation classes, an accomplished Orphaner for several sweeps, in possession of basic piloting knowledge, plus ownership over a legendary weapon once belonging to Dualscar, and all before reaching your tenth sweep.” She raises her eyebrows and nods, “Impressive.”

“Thank you, uh–”

“Mianak.” She says, turning another page and looking up at you. “My name is Tiyree Mianak, but you will refer to me as Ma’am, is that clear?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Good. I expect you are surprised to find that I am not a sea-dweller, so let me explain to you how this academy works. Whilst it is true that most of our students and staff are sea-dwellers of varying blood lines, every single one of them answers to me, as is the same for many of our neighbouring institutions who are also under my jurisdiction, but you needn’t worry about that.” She waves her hand dismissively, then clasps her fingers together in front of her, “To put it simply, I am your boss, the admiral to your aquatic fleet so to speak, do you understand?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Excellent,” She smiles, sending a chill down your spine, “now, let’s talk about you.” She flicks another page, then another, scanning her finger down a list of some sort until she finds what she’s looking for, “You have a rather wide spectrum of acquaintances it would seem.”

You remain silent, deciding that you should only speak when she asks you a question.

“Moirails with the Heiress herself at one point,” She remarks, “yet am I right to believe you are currently unquadranted?”

“Yes Ma’am.” You reply, breathing through the tightness in your chest at the mention of Feferi.

She nods, tapping a claw on her thick, silver choker. Why is she asking about your relationships? And more importantly, why does the academy have a list of who you’re friends with? You can devise a winning strategy when you’re a thousand units down, shoot a squawkbeast clean out of the sky before most of your class even sees it, and charm the pants off of any high and mighty dignitaries. The Trolls you choose to socialise with shouldn’t matter, nor should the state of your quadrants thank you very much.

“With any luck you will find someone here that is more...” She pauses, making a sound that might have been a laugh, “suited to your lifestyle.”

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

“Perhaps a Threshecutioner?” She raises an eyebrow at you, evidently expecting a reply this time.

At this suggestion, your bloodpusher decides to try and beat its way through your ribs. You open your mouth, but your vocal chords abandon you, so you pass it off as a cough. Not that it matters as most of your pan has also jumped ship, leaving you with nothing but – awfully inappropriate – thoughts of having Karkat in a quadrant.

“I’m sorry Ampora,” Tiyree’s voice interrupts your fantasy, “I did not mean to suggest that you should aim below your caste.”

Oh thank God, she thought you were silent because you were offended.

“Not at all,” You reply, mustering a surprising level of composure into your voice, “it believve that it’s important to havve an open mind.”

Okay, that was a lie; what you really meant was 'I would normally agree but I have exceptions'.

“Indeed," She continues, seeming satisfied with your answer, "so do you know any of our neighbours personally?”

She must be testing you; if they have information on your friends then surely they know what academies they all attend.

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Who?”

‘An olive blood’ is what your think pan says, but your mouth won’t move to make the words. You try again, but still no sound, and there’s this pressure at the front of your skull that makes you want to squeeze your eyes shut.

“K-Karkat.” You stammer, fighting against all of the other things that suddenly want to spill out.

Shit, that was totally not what you wanted to say. Why couldn’t you tell her that you knew an olive-blood Threshecutioner? As far as the academies are concerned you do, it’s not that big of a lie and your conscience has never cared this much before.

“Vantas?” Tiyree asks, resting her chin on her hands.

You nod even though you don’t want to, the pressure in your head reaching almost painful levels.

“Y-yes Ma’am.” You add quickly, feeling as though you’ll vomit if your mouth is open for too long.

What’s happening to you? It’s like you can’t lie to her. Chucklevoodoos shouldn’t work on a sea-dweller as high on the spectrum as you are; either she’s really powerful or someone spiked your drink. She stands up, walking slowly behind your chair. You dig your claws into the upholstery as something sharp runs along the back of your neck.

“Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

You shake your head, the movement making you dizzy. Then a hand wraps around your throat from behind, Tiyree’s claws resting along your jugular.

“No.” You squeak.

“No what?”

“N-no M-ma’am.” You manage to force out through chattering teeth.

She doesn’t respond, or if she did you can’t hear it, this deafening buzz inside your head drowning out even the sound of your own blood-pusher. You can feel yourself trembling, shaking like a Lowblood that’s been dumped in the sea during winter. God you’d give anything to be in a freezing ocean right now, surrounded by all the horrible creatures that the depths can assemble, at least then you’d be able to fight back.

“Good boy.” She removes her hand and returns to her seat, “You can go.”

The pressure releases the moment she sits down, and you almost keel over with the light-headedness that follows it. You mumble a ‘thank you’ and all but run out of the room, your legs refusing to take more than a few steps beyond the door before giving out. You press your back to the wall, sinking down onto the floor and rubbing your temples.

That was bloody awful; if you never lay eyes on that woman again it’ll be all too soon. Luckily it seems that most of the others are in class, so you wait until you’re not on the brink of passing out, before slowly standing up and wobbling your way to the nearest ablutionblock.

Turns out you look even worse than you feel; your skin is practically white, except for the dark rings around your eyes, and your hair is ruined too. You fill a sink with cold water, splashing some on your face between deep breaths. It takes a few minutes – and a couple of false alarms – but eventually the nausea subsides, along with most of the shaking.

There are other lectures you have to attend tonight, but all you want to do is go and lie down in your dark, quiet block. Maybe even jump in the ‘cupe and just go to sleep. You need to get changed anyway, and probably have a shower or a bath if you can be bothered to run one. A nap couldn’t hurt whilst you’re at it.

You check that nobody is outside, then slip into the corridor and head towards the accommodation hives. The cool breeze that hits you as you leave the building isn’t nearly as satisfying as you thought it would be, and you’re shivering by the time you reach your block, your cold hands fumbling with the key-card. Seriously what is up with this weather? Your kind is built to survive low temperatures, yet here you are half-freezing from a little wind, and at the end of the 6^th Dark season no less.

One of your classmates sends you a message as you enter your personal block, but you ignore her in favour of stripping out of your disgustingly sweaty uniform. She’s probably just nagging you anyway, the fucking pretentious sea-hag. She thinks she’s better than you because she’s older and already has her own ship, but you bet you could beat her in a one-on-one any day. Except today maybe. At least not until after your nap. You lower yourself into the recuperacoon, relaxing into the sopor and closing your eyes. This has been an evening that you would most definitely rather forget.

Chapter Text

==> Aradia, converse with Equius

Normally, you would have no qualms about complying with this request, or the majority of requests since you removed your emotions chip mere moments after being switched on for the first time. But as it is, you just finished talking to Equius, and the topic put him in such a foul mood that you doubt it would be a fruitful endeavour to try again. You will, however, play back the conversation from your memory banks for the reader’s convenience. Isn’t that considerate of you?

-- RECORDING PLAYBACK: 6^TH DARK SEASONS EQUINOX - 15^TH BILUNAR PERIGEE - 16:42 --

Equius is sitting at his desk, tapping away at the keys of his husktop with such vigour, that they probably would have broken by now if he hadn’t reinforced them with the left-overs from your casing. He’s growling – as he has been for the last twenty-one minutes and thirty-five seconds – but you doubt that he’s noticed. You could easily hack your way into the system and peek on his conversation, see what’s gotten him so worked up, but you don’t really care enough to look. It’s probably just Gamzee; Equius always gets agitated when they talk. They’d probably make good Kismesises if Equius could ever stop worshiping the ground Gamzee walked on enough to really hate him. He says he hates him, but you know that he doesn’t.

Supposedly you are Equius’ Kismesis at the moment, but you would be okay with him getting a new one. After all, what’s the point of a quadrant where one party can’t return the others’ feelings? You can be Sollux’s Moirail – using your old memories of when the two of you used to flip between red and pale – but you didn’t know Equius in person until after you died, so there’s not much to go on other than the fit of rage and passion that lasted all of eighty-six seconds before you tore out that chip. But you’re okay with that. Emotions just get in the way sometimes.

“Fiddlesticks.” Equius mutters, emphasising the last syllable with a fist to the table.

He slams down his husktop and strides over to the work table nearby, picking up a wrench and bending it in half with one hand before setting it down again. No doubt he’ll break it later when he realises that he has to order a new one. Maybe you could straighten it out if you’re feeling charitable.

“What is bothering you.” You ask him – with ‘ask’ being in terms of the wording and not your tone, seeing as your limited vocal range does not allow you to actually ask questions. You think removing your emotions chip was the cause of this. But you’re okay with it.

“Nothing.” He replies through his teeth.

You float over to sit on the countertop, “It doesn’t look like nothing.”

“Well it is.”

“My sensors indicate that you are not being truthful.”

His frown falters for a moment, then deepens, “Poppycock, I fitted you with no such equipment, your falsity gauge only works when in contact with a Troll’s skin.”

“I know.”

You stare at each other for a few seconds, then he snorts and returns to the desk. His hands hover above his husktop, but he quickly pulls them back.

“What is bothering you Equius.” You ask again, staying where you are.

“Nothi–” He stops and sighs, “It is Nepeta.”

“What about her.”

“I am having, difficulties, attaining permission for her to move in here and stay with me.”

“Why.”

“I do not know,” He adds another dent to the wooden surface, “I did everything that the Highbloods asked but still they will not approve my application. I fear that it may be due to your presence.”

You blink. Your presence. You do a quick scan of the network on the subject. Ah, it seems Highbloods can have only one quadrantmate living with them in academy quarters at a time.

“You are correct in your assumption.” You inform him. “Should I leave.”

He takes a moment, eyes flickering behind his glasses as his brain processes your question, “No.”

“Okay.”

“No it is not okay.”

“Okay.”

“Stop saying okay!” He stands up, sending his chair clattering to the ground behind him.

The last occurrence of this argument lost you half of the plating on your left arm, so you remain silent this time. You may be a robot, but you’re not stupid.

“I…” He growls, wiping the sweat from his face and neck with a nearby towel, “I must fix this.”

“Can I help.”

“No, you cannot, please just leave me.”

You do as he asks and retreat to your private block.

-- RECORDING PLAYBACK: END --

Oh, it seems that Tavros has been attempting to contact you whilst your primary applications were otherwise occupied.

adiosToreador [AT] began trolling apocalypseArisen [AA]

AT: uH, hEY aRADIA
AT: aRADIA?
AT: oH, yOU MUST BE BUSY,
AT: i UNDERSTAND,
AT: jUST UH REPLY, wHENEVER YOU CAN
AA: hell0 tavr0s
AT: oH, hI
AA: did y0u have s0mething y0u wanted t0 talk ab0ut
AT: yEAH, kINDA,
AT: i WAS JUST WONDERING, uH, hAS eQUIUS GOTTEN HIS PAPERS FOR nEPETA YET?
AA: n0
AA: he seems t0 be having s0me tr0uble with them
AT: oH,
AT: yEAH, gAMZEE IS TOO
AA: d0es he have any 0ther tr0lls staying with him
AT: nO, wHY?
AA: i believe i am the cause 0f Equius' pr0blems
AA: seeing as Highbl00ds are 0nly all0wed 0ne quadrantmate in academy quarters at a time
AT: tHAT'S A RULE?
AT: nICE OF THEM TO TELL US,
AT: bUT, uH, lIKE I SAID, gAMZEE LIVES ON HIS OWN
AA: yes it d0es seem unusual
AA: perhaps he is n0t being truthful
AA: w0uld y0u like me t0 test him
AT: nO, nO, nO,
AT: gAMZEE MIGHT NOT ALWAYS KNOW WHAT HE’S SAYING, bUT HE WOULD NEVER LIE TO ME LIKE THAT,
AT: i MEAN, wE'RE MATESPRITS, sO WHY WOULD HE?
AA: 0kay
AT: uH,
AT: dOES THAT MEAN YOU AGREE?
AA: yes
AT: oH,
AT: oKAY,
AA: 0kay
AT: uH, wELL,
AT: i SHOULD GO,
AT: kARKAT AND tEREZI ARE ARGUING ABOUT, uH, sOMETHING,
AA: g00dbye tavr0s
AT: bYE aRADIA

adiosToreador [AT] ceased trolling apocalypseArisen [AA]

Chapter Text

==> Tavros, sleep

You sink up to your neck in sopor for the first time in sweeps, sighing at the way you can feel the sedatives soaking through your skin, working over the tense muscles. Your name is Tavros Nitram and you think you’re finally settling in to your new home. You may have had a wonderful hive before moving to the city, with a great view of the plains where wild hoofbeasts roam and not too many stairs, but you have to admit that the Lowblood recuperacoon you were provided with was not suited to your needs at all. You couldn’t fit in it properly after you hit three sweeps, and after your accident it was a nightmare to get the ramp fitted, a ramp that didn’t even work properly because your four-wheeled device would always roll down it.

The one you have here, bought with Terezi’s Highblood budget, is much better. If you get the angle right, you can even slip your horns under the rim far enough to rest your back against the wall, which almost brought you to tears the first time you realised. Okay, it actually brought you to tears, but nobody saw it so it doesn’t matter. You shift a little to get comfortable, making sure that you won’t wedge yourself with your horns if you fidget during the day. Technically you shouldn’t be moving enough to do that, since sopor keeps you still and calm whilst you sleep and the recuperacoon floor is angled so that you can’t drown yourself. But since you can’t sink as deep as other Trolls, you tend to be a bit more active in your sleep.

You also tend to be a very light sleeper, which is why you are awoken at midday by the sound of squelching, and someone’s rasping breaths echoing around your block. You crack an eye open and slowly squirm your way to a sitting position, peeking over the lip of your ‘coon. Karkat is sitting bolt upright in his, hand on his chest and eyes wide enough that you can see the red around his pupils, the colour seeming brighter than usual in the low light coming through your day-shutters. You pull yourself up further, hoping that he won’t get mad when he finds out that you’re awake.

“Karkat?”

He squeaks, startling enough to splatter slime onto the floor, and then recoiling against the back wall of the cocoon, like an animal cornered in its cage. Tinkerbull wakes up at his outburst, buzzing his wings and snorting. You put a hand out to soothe him, petting his horns when he pushes against your palm. But even whilst placating your Lusus, you keep your eyes trained on Karkat, not sure if you should speak again or just wait for him to calm down. Maybe you should like… Get out and see if he’s okay? You’re not Gamzee but it might help him feel better if there’s someone close by? Or perhaps that would just make him angrier – this is Karkat after all. Ugh, you have no idea what to do, you’ve never had a Moirail or even been around a scared Troll before, normally it’s you who needs the reassurance.

“Tavros?” His voice is tiny, the quietest you’ve ever heard, especially from someone who normally shouts whenever possible.

“Yeah?” You let go of Tinkerbull lean forwards on the edge of your recuperacoon.

Karkat’s eyes flicker across you in the near-darkness, hands trembling as he pulls himself out of his cower to move closer to you. Then he lets out a shaky breath, finally seeming to relax a little.

“Nothing,” He mutters, “go back to sleep.”

“Are you sure?” You whisper back, immediately regretting it when a low growl drifts out of his cocoon.

“O-okay.” You quickly dive back down into your own sopor, muffling a curse when you catch your horns on the lip.

He doesn’t want to talk about it. That’s fine. He was practically hyperventilating and looked like he’d seen a drone, but it’s fine, he can handle himself, and if he can’t, then he can always call Gamzee. Yeah, that’s what Moirails are for, not blockmates, no need for you to worry about it. You tell yourself these things until you believe them, at least enough to stop worrying that Karkat is going to do anything but sleep – you know Lowbloods don’t have rages, but Karkat is a mutant, so what if he’s got Highblood tendencies too? It’d explain why he’s so grumpy all the time – and actually get some rest.

***

==> Tavros, wake

You open your eyes and stretch, feeling better than you have for sweeps. No nightmares, no ache in your neck, no pains in the legs that you can’t even feel any more. Your metal ones are stiff though, what’s left of your nerves can tell you that much, even without the way they whine as you try to bend them. Karkat’s cocoon is empty when you manage to clamber out of yours, so you can take your time cleaning the sopor out of your joints and then carefully oiling them, before applying healing salve to where the metal meets your torso. It’s not as sore as it used to be, but you’ll be glad when you don’t have to do this anymore.

Then as you’re on the way to the ablutionblock, Karkat comes back in the respiteblock and stands in front of the door.

“Uh, evening.” You say to him, backing up slightly.

There’s no reaction at all; it’s as if you didn’t even speak. He glares at you with his burning eyes, then grabs your arm and drags you into the furthest corner, putting his finger to his lips when you let out a surprised squeak.

“Do you remember what happened yesterday?” He hisses at you, still gripping your forearm tightly.

You nod.

Fear flickers across his face, but he sets it back to a stern glower in less than a second, “I need you to keep it between us.”

“Why?” You ask hesitantly.

“Because – ugh!” He thumps the side of your ‘coon, “Because it was just a stupid dayterror about a bad fucking dream bubble and I don’t want to make the girls worried, okay?” His voice is barely above a growl, “I’m telling you this because you’re Gamzee’s Matesprit and I trust you, don’t make me regret it.”

You nod again, “Okay, just between us, I, I promise.”

He takes a deep breath and releases your arm, then hovers for a moment before dashing out of the room.

No wonder he looked terrified yesterday. Dream bubbles can be nice, show you dead friends and loved ones, take you to places you thought you’d never see again. But the problem is that they’re vivid. Sometimes a dream in one can be so real that it feels like a memory, so you can imagine what a dayterror is like in one. In fact, you don’t have to imagine; they may have been rare, but sleeping half-outside of sopor for sweeps has given you your fair share of ‘bad’ dream bubbles. You shiver with the memories of them, of waking up screaming or with tears streaking your face, of calling for Tinkerbull so you can hold him close to you, feel his bloodpusher beating.

You pick up your Lusus and carry him into the livingblock, placing him gently on the sofa whilst you have a shower and oil your joints again. You’d ask Equius to take a look at them for you, but Aradia made it sound like he was having a rough time, so he’d probably tear your legs off rather than fixing them, and you’d quite like to retain your ability to walk. Then you remember that he’s having trouble getting papers for Nepeta just like Gamzee is for you, and yet another thing to worry about adds to the pile already pressing down on your pan.

Why does everything have to be so difficult? Well, not everything you guess, thinking back fondly on how easy it was to fill your red quadrant. Gamzee is so open, he just lays all of his feelings out in that weird Gamzee-like way of his, telling you everything whilst also telling you nothing. But if you can pick out the important bits – not that you ignore some of what he says, but there are times when he spouts some real nonsense – then you get to see what he’s thinking, really thinking, not just saying because it popped into his head. It took you a while to figure out how to do this, but you’re glad you took the time to. You wonder how he’s doing. You’d message him, but his trollian is offline, which means he’s doing important Subjuggalator stuff, like the type of important where any interruption could be dangerous. He’ll talk to you when he’s ready.

Speaking of ready, you hear Terezi calling that breakfast is served, and quickly finish getting dressed so that you can settle your growling stomach.

***

==> Vriska, send another message

You name is Vriska Serket, and you’ve just finished talking your ex-Kismesis into meeting up with you to talk about something very important. Of course it would never be important enough to override whatever he was doing though. Gods no, perish the thought, don’t you know that he’s Coddamn royalty? Fucking stuck up bottom feeder is more like it. You smirk and re-block him. You don’t block many people, but that whiny prick is an exception. Okay, one down, two to go. Maybe you should just get these guys in the same conversation? You’re pretty sure that they talk regularly, or at least used to. Whatever it’ll work itself out.

aracnidsGrip [AG] opened a private conversation

aracnidsGrip [AG] invited terminallyCapricious [TC] to the conversation

>> terminallyCapricious [TC] is offline <<

Oh for fuck’s sake. The one time you actually want to talk to him and he’s not even online. Even if he was you bet he’d ignore you; too busy talking to Tavros or getting shouted at by Vantas. Honestly, don’t people know that there are things more important than themselves and their precious quadrants?

Whatever, Gamzee probably wouldn’t care anyway. You leave the offer open on his table, just in case he miraculously decides to join you, and invite Equius instead. Oh thank fuck, he’s online. He takes his sweet time replying though, the asshole. It’s not even like you’re that much lower than him on the Haemospectrum, he should take some lessons in how to treat a blue-blooded lady such as yourself, with number one being don’t keep them waiting.

centaursTesticle [CT] joined the conversation

AG: Oh fucking fin8lly!!!!!!!!
AG: What were you even doing?
AG: W8, no, don’t answer that. I don’t think I want to know.
CT: D--> What is it
CT: D--> I have a schedule to keep
AG: Good, so you are worried a8out 8eing on time!
AG: In that c8se, I want you to meet me in the corsair lounge in precicely 8ty minutes.
AG: And 8ring Makara if you can, he’s offline so I can’t even leave him a message telling him what an awesome convers8tion he missed.
CT: D--> What does this meeting pertain to and why is the highbl00d invited
AG: I can’t tell you yet, I don’t want to spoil the surprise :::;)
AG: And Gamzee is invited 8ecause why the fuck not, right? I asked Ampora to come too, 8ut I actually have a half-decent reason for that.
AG: A reason that you won’t know unless you actually turn up!
CT: D--> I do not appreciate all of this secrecy
CT: D--> Are you plotting something against us
AG: No of course not, I’m offended that you would even suggest such a thing.
AG: I need all of you there 8ecause it’s import8nt high8lood 8usiness, so just have a glass of milk or something and don’t 8e l8!!!!!!!!
CT: D--> Alright I’ll trust you
CT: D--> But I will not hesitate to report you if something happens
AG: I wouldn’t expect anything less from a no8le indigo such as yourself.
AG: And rest assured that I won’t hesit8 to return the favour.
CT: D--> Of course
AG: See you theeeeeeeere.
CT: D--> Yes
AG: Yes!
CT: D--> Yes
AG: Yes!!!!!!!!
CT: D--> Stop that
CT: D--> This conversation is over

centaursTesticle [CT] left the conversation

aracnidsGrip [AG] closed the conversation

Delete records of conversation?

           > Yes                No

***

==> Eridan, attend Vriska’s import8nt meeting

You’re sitting in the corsair lounge with two of your least favourite people in the whole world, and surprisingly, Sollux isn’t one of them. Vriska is the main reason why you’ve only ever visited twice since joining your academy, but now you’re here – sitting in possibly the most uncomfortable leather chair that your posterior has ever had the misfortune to grace – you think your avoidance was perfectly grounded. It stinks of booze and cheap perfume, with empty bottles of both lined up against the back wall. Oh of course there’s eight ‘blue vandal’s scattered amongst them, one looking as recent as yesterday with blue lipstick still staining the rim. You don’t know how Vriska stomachs the stuff, it tastes like scuttlebug fuel.

“Right, that’s it, we’re starting without the juggalo because he is taking way to fucking long to get here and probably wouldn’t be much help anyway.” Vriska jumps out of her chair, taking a few steps to the side so that she can look at both of you. “The reason I decided to have this little meeting, is to discuss the fact that our precious Heiress is planning to overthrow the current Empress.”

“How did you come across this information?” Equius asks, standing up and folding his arms.

Vriska doesn’t even flinch, “I snuck into the palace a few days ago and read Captor’s mind in his sleep.” She laughs slightly, “The idiot didn’t even realise, probably thought it was a nasty little nightmare that his mutant brain cooked up for him.”

Equius frowns, looking at you as if you’re expected to challenge her on something.

You just shrug, “Wwhat Eq? I kneww about all a this like fivve swweeps ago remember? You just nevver wwanted to believve me.”

“Oh it’s always poor you, isn’t it?” Vriska snaps, “No-one listens to me, I’m so lonely, my Moirail actually had a life outside of my endless list of problems. Well boo-fucking-hoo. Nobody gives a shit okay?”

You’re on your feet now, staring her down, “An’ they givve a shit about you? At least I bother tryin’ to be nice, you just assume that it’s your Gods givven fuckin’ right to be as mean as you like and nevver get a bad wword in return, wwell newws flash swweetheart; all it’s done is made evveryone realise just howw much they hate you.”

She scoffs, “You’re a fucking hypocrite you know that Ampora? At least I acknowledge my flaws; yes, I’m a huge bitch, well done figuring that one out on your own you water-logged moron, but all you do is whine about this and cry about that like a huge fucking pansy, until some poor fool takes pity on you and pays you the tiniest bit of attention, then you’re back to treating everyone like dirt.”

“At least I nevver fuckin’ paralyzed anyone, or blinded my so-called ‘best friend’, or killed someone by mind controllin’ their Matesprit. Too bad you let us in on that little secret ‘cause you’d need your cheatin’ mind games just to havve any friends noww.”

“Who said I wanted friends?” She throws her hands out to the side, “I only talk to any of you assholes so I can mess with you, I’m not clamouring for attention like some people, and I don’t lie about my intentions.”

“Oh yeah, ‘cause that ditsy flirty bullshit you pull is totally howw you really behavve, bet Nitram had such a shock wwhen he found out that you wwere just some bitter, twisted sea-hag.”

“Right, and you’re really a great admiral like to claim to be aren’t you?”

Equius huffs, “Serket, please, the reason you called us here was not to argue over the negative aspects of your respective personalities.”

“Don’t act like you’re any different Eq, you claim to love the Haemospectrum so much that you might as wwell be fuckin’ Matesprits with it, and yet the only quadrants you’vve evver filled are wwith twwo Lowwbloods, not to mention the fact that I havve the most noble blood on the fuckin’ planet ‘sides Fef and you treat me as if I’m no better than her.” You throw a finger in Vriska’s direction, but don’t give her the privelage of your glare, “Good job stickin’ to your principles there, at least I have a legitimate reason to despise all a you fuckin’ land-dwwellers.”

“Despise all of us you say?” Vriska raises an eyebrow at you, hands on her hips, “Well then what about ‘assblood’ Vantas hmm? I remember Terezi telling me that you practically begged her to let you visit him on his wriggling day, it must have been such a chore to spend time with all of those disgusting low-blooded land-dwellers, I hope he knows how lucky he was for you to go against your principles for him.”

“Kar is different!” You blurt out before you can stop yourself.

“Oh that’s right I forgot, the little mudblood slut was your Moirail for a day and now you’re his personal lapbeast.”

“You shut your fuckin’ mouth before I shut it for you!” You growl, your claws digging into your palms.

“Yes!” She cackles, “I’d been wondering where that salty spite of yours had gone, I bet he’d be so proud to see what you become when he’s not around to pap you back into a whimpering puddle of piss. I wonder what you would do if I happened to slip some of our more unique acquaintances in for the ‘random’ physical exams?”

“Go to hell Serket! You can do wwhat you like to the rest of those fuckin’ freaks but don’t you dare threaten Kar!”

“Oh so you can throw around the word culling all you like, but I’m not allowed to touch your precious pale-buddy? Although he’s not really yours is he? And sad to say I don’t think he ever will be either, nobody will, you’ll be all alone for ever and ever.”

“An’ so wwill you, nobody wwants a bitch on their platform lovve.”

“You’re the bitch!”

She moves to lunge for you but a thick pair of arms hold her back, your own wrists being retrained with equal haste as you try to knock out her good eye.

“Let me go!” She screams, kicking out as Equius lifts her into the air, keeping her arms tight against her body.

You struggle against whoever is behind you, “Get the fuck off a me!”

“No can do brother.”

Gamzee’s voice catches you off-guard, giving him time to pick you up and shove you outside. You let out a snarl and drive your fist into a door to your right. It punches a hole straight through, leaving you with your arm half in a cleaning cupboard and dripping blood onto the floor inside. You hiss because it hurts so good, but it’s not enough; that door should have been Vriska’s face and the splinters in your knuckles should have been her fucking jaw. You pull your hand back and spin around, thumping your horns back against the wood and carving lines down it as you sink to the floor. Your head is pounding, and you know your hand should hurt but you just can’t feel it anymore over the rage bubbling inside, manifesting as a constant growl with each breath.

No, no, no, no, no, no, NO!

You press your palms against your temples, willing the sound to go away, to stop crackling in your chest like sparks from a fire. You hate that growl, you hate it because you can’t control it, and you hate it because it means you’re losing it, losing your grip on the already fragile sanity that your caste is born with. You can’t believe that Gamzee and Equius – Equius of all Trolls – were the ones who stopped you and Vriska from killing each other. God, fuck, you don’t even hate her pitch anymore, what’s wrong with you?

“Hey fishbro.”

You flinch, scrabbling to your feet as Gamzee closes the door behind him and walks over. Then you growl at him because he stands right in the middle of the corridor to block your path. You’d always known that he was taller than you, but even with his shoulders hunched he’s still an intimidating half a hand above you.

“I wouldn’t be motherfucking doing that if I was you.” Something about his tone is different. He still sounds calm as usual, but this is unnerving, like he’s having to force it.

You gulp and take a step back, but before you can move again he’s got a hand around your throat.

“I all up and heard what you motherfuckers were saying about our fuckin’ warm-blooded companions,” He growls, pushing you back against the wall, “and if you say a single, motherfuckin’ word of it again, they’re not gonna be the ones needing to watch their fuckin’ backs. You get me, brother?”

You can’t really breathe at this point, so you just nod frantically until he lets go. But you don’t dare move, only shrinking back so that you’re not coughing in his face when you choke on your first breath.

“Great, ain’t it just a motherfuckin’ miracle when we can all get along?” His voice back to normal, he grins and pats your head, then saunters of towards the exit.

You watch him go, then drop to the floor, running your fingers lightly over the bruises you can feel already forming across your neck. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You can’t tell anyone about that, ever. You’re going to go back to your room, delete Vriska’s Chatlog from your husktop and never mention this again, to anyone. This has been possibly the worst night of your entire life, including the time that Feferi broke up with you.

Chapter Text

==> Terezi, deal with your Moirail

You should be half way to the Palace by now with Karkat, taking Feferi up on her invitation to visit on the one night that you have off this week. But instead, you are watching your Moirail pace around her livingblock, trying to find the right time to approach her when she isn’t going to reflexively strangle you with her robot arm. It was early in the evening when Vriska sent you a series of messages complaining about the other Highbloods – namely Eridan – and whilst you’d normally be able to talk her down half-asleep, tonight she wasn’t having any of it.

Most people would have said ‘it’s fine just leave her’ or ‘she’s Vriska, she’ll deal with it’, but you’ve spent enough time FLARPing with the one-eyed witch to know when she can no longer ‘deal with it’, and this was one of those times. You’d thought that she’d ranted enough over trollian, but the vocabulary she’s currently flaunting would put even Karkat to shame. You don’t even want to remember some of the words that are coming out of her mouth right now, but if her conversation with fishface played out the way she had told you, then you can’t really blame her.

Oh, looks like Tavros is somehow a part of this now, even though you know that he hasn’t spoken to her since he moved in with you. It’s hard to hear her say things like this about your friends, but if she can’t vent to her Moirail then who can she vent to?

“And that fucking little Princess,” She hisses, starting on a new tirade about how Feferi isn’t fit to be the Empress because she’s too positive and doesn’t know what it’s like to work for what she wants.

You highly doubt that – she went through an awful lot of paperwork to get Sollux into the Palace with her – but you can see Vriska’s point. Feferi is definitely the most naturally privileged out of all of you, and from the perspective of someone who only speaks with her to argue, it must seem unfair. Honestly you’re just waiting for the day that Vriska tells you she’s gone pitch with her. The cerulean finally runs out of puff and leans on the table opposite you, head in her hands. You sigh and reach out to stroke her hair, but she immediately jumps back.

“Don’t you dare try to pap this away,” She growls, “Don’t fucking dare.”

She’s shaking and breathing through her gritted teeth, a tear leaving a slow trail down the cheek under her good eye.

You stand and reach out again, “Shh,” she allows your touch to connect this time, “Shh Vriska.”

She sniffs and lets her lips relax to conceal her fangs, shoulders hunching over slightly. You shush her again and pull her close. She doesn’t cry out loud or hug you back, but as you stroke her shoulders you can feel the tension seeping out from under your hands. You’ve seen her almost lose it before; when she goes quiet and still, and it’s genuinely terrifying because you know what she can do, but even more than that is how much you hate seeing her that way, not in control of herself. Sometimes she tries to drink it away, sometimes she lashes out, but it’s been a whole sweep since she’s even raised a hand to you and that’s a good thing. Getting rid of the alcohol might take a bit longer though.

She tries to pull away, so you give her one last squeeze before letting go.

“God that was so stupid.” She mumbles, wiping the last of the dampness from her face.

You just smile and pat her shoulder, relieved when she smiles back. It’s rare that you have to use physical comfort – and even more infrequently that she actually lets you – but the warm feeling when you know you’ve done your job is enough to make up for all the arguments. Karkat says that you two are the weirdest Moirails he’s ever seen, and he’s probably right. It doesn’t make any difference to you though.

“Stupid is my specialty, I’m friends with Karkles, remember?”

She lets out the most genuine laugh you’ve heard from her in a while, “Thanks Pyrope, you’re not as bad as people say.”

“I could say the same about you Serket.” You grin; if she’s joking like this then she must be feeling better. Then you hold out your fist, “Scourge Sisters?”

She stands up straight, her face set back into its usual air of smug confidence, “Scourge Sisters.”

She bumps her fist with yours and you do the dumb hand-shake that you invented when you were five. You’ve tried to make up a new one, but old habits are hard to break.

***

==> Karkat, deal with your not-Moirail

You should be half way to the palace by now, waiting on Terezi to stop Vriska from killing anyone before she joins your little tea party, or whatever fancy shit Feferi has planned for you. But no. Instead, you had to message Sollux and tell him that you were going to be late, because at ass o’clock in the evening, you got a very sad, very dramatic message from Eridan that essentially translated to ‘can I come ovver cause im bored an the only person wwho talks to me here is busy’. Your first instinct was ‘NO OF COURSE YOU FUCKING CAN’T BECAUSE I ALSO HAPPEN TO BE BUSY’ but then he pulled all of the whiny, self-hating bullshit – that you’re slowly realising is your weakness, if the losers you surround yourself with are anything to go by – and whittled you down to ‘FUCK FINE, JUST TRY NOT TO SCARE ANY LOWBLOODS ON THE WAY’.

That is how you found yourself sitting on the couch in silence, with a very fidgety sea-dweller doing his best to goad you into asking what’s wrong without actually saying anything. He presses his index fingers together and looks at the ceiling, sighing as he tips his head the other way and almost looks at you, but not quite because the lights above are clearly far more interesting. You ignore him and flick the next page on the magazine that you have yet to actually read more than a few sentences of. He sighs louder, and you can just tell that he’s pouting, even though your eyes are straining to read the words on the page. Screw wearing sunglasses, how does Davryn live like this?

A few seconds of silence and you can’t help beginning to tap your foot in impatience, then after another forlorn exhale, you crack.

“Oh my fucking God,” you slam the magazine shut and chuck it on the floor, “just tell me what’s wrong before I prise it out of your pan with a three-pronged eating device and shove it up your nook.”

He looks taken aback, but recovers after a few blinks, “I wwas wwonderin’ if you might be wwillin’ to offer up some advvice of a… Potentially quadrantic nature, just hypothetically speakin’.”

Now it’s your turn to sigh, he was doing so well – it’d been at least half a sweep since he last asked for romantic advice – but old habits die hard you guess, “Of course you were. Now tell me about your totally hypothetical problem and I’ll pretend that I don’t know you’re talking about real people, then you can go off and not take my advice like usual as you attempt to pursue this poor object of your affections.”

He frowns like an indignant wiggler, “Actually it ain’t like that at all –”

“Then what is it like? I actually do have other shit to do tonight Eridan.” You almost feel bad about being so snappy, but you are really not in the mood for anything other than crawling back into your recuperacoon and sleeping for the next week.

He huffs and folds his arms, his fins flicking out and in like he’s trying to decide if he should flare them at you – it wouldn’t make a difference, they’re about as scary as a barkbeast’s wagging tail – then they droop slightly, “I wwas just gonna ask if you knoww anyone wwho might be in the business a Austpisticising. I’d ask Kan but she’s busy wwith Fef an’ I don’t really wwanna get in the wway a that.”

“Good God,” You mumble aloud by accident, “Alright, who have you annoyed into going black with you?”

“I said it wwas hypothetical.”

“Yeah right and I totally believe you, now tell me who it is.”

He squirms in his seat, rolling and unrolling the first stripe of his scarf at least five times before he answers, “It’s Vvris, I think she wwas flirtin’ pitch wwith me but I’vve already been there once an’ I’d rather just havve her ash-wise if anythin’.”

The coffee table is suddenly very inviting to your forehead, but you resist smashing your face into it repeatedly and press your palm between your eyes, “Fuck me sideways with culling fork Ampora, I thought I told you to stay away from that venomous spiderbitch like three sweeps ago?”

“I knoww Kar, fuck, but it ain’t as easy as you think, ‘specially not wwhen our academies feel the need to be all associated an’ shit.”

“Can’t you just, I don’t know, ignore her?”

“I tried,” He snaps, “I really tried, but it’s fuckin’ hard okay?”

The reply ‘Obviously you didn’t try hard enough’ dances on your tongue, but you clamp down on it. Eridan may be whiny enough to warrant getting yelled at, but you’ve learned to tell the difference between attention-seeking and genuinely upset, and you’re pretty sure you’re dealing with the latter here.

“Maybe,” He begins quietly, “you could think about helpin’ out wwith the wwhole keepin’ us separate thing?”

He glances at you from the corner of his eye, half-wincing half-hopeful. At least he’s 50% right for once.

“No Eridan,” You tell him firmly, “I’m not being your Auspistice, I’m not the right Troll for the job and even then I don’t like Vriska enough to care if you give her what she deserves.”

He puffs himself up and you prepare for an argument, but then all of his bravado is lost to a tilted head and a bemused expression.

“So you’re sayin’ that you care about me?”

Your nose has another passionate encounter with your palm, “If I say yes, will you stop fucking looking at me like that?”

“Yes.”

You sink down into the seat, “Then yes, for whatever reason that the universe decided to rationalise this decision to my clearly impressionable pan with, I care about you.”

“Then tell me your blood colour.”

Wait. What? What?

"What?" You sit bolt upright, your pusher jumping into your throat whilst your curdling bile sack tries to sink into your shoes, “Where the fuck did that come from?”

He leans closer to you, fins pricked up and eyes eagerly staring into yours, “You can trust me Kar, just tell me.”

“No.”

“Fuckin wwhy?”

“Because –” You stop, teeth drawing your lower lip inwards.

Because I’m a freak. Because you’ll cull me. Because I should be dead. Oh God. How do you explain this? Should it be direct or vague? How much do you say? Maybe you could lie and – shit fuck that bastard stole your sunglasses!

You growl and reach out to snatch them back, but the damage is already done. Eridan stares at you, gazing right into your oculars for the first time in sweeps. You prepare for the recoil, the shouting, the insults, the gun. But they never come. Instead, he gives you a lopsided smile.

“I kneww it,” He laughs slightly, “I fuckin’ kneww it, I wwas right.”

“So what, are you going to cull me?” Your claws grip the couch, stopping you from running right out of there and never looking back.

“No,” He pulls a face like you insulted him, “a course not, you’re my friend Kar.”

You swallow, slowly taking in the realisation that he isn’t going to kill you, “Right, friends, yeah.” Your grip loosens enough for you to point a claw at his chest, “If that’s true, then you’ve got to promise me not to tell anyone about this. Not even Feferi.”

He hesitates, then nods, “I promise.”

“Okay,” you take a deep breath, “Okay.”

“Okay.” He repeats, passing you your glasses.

Okay. Okay. Everything is okay. Eridan’s not going to kill you, and he’s not going to tell anyone. Good. Fine. You can deal with one more person knowing. At least this one doesn’t live with you. The staring might get a bit uncomfortable though. You tell him to stop, but he just rolls his eyes, muttering something about being self-conscious. You’re about to call him out on it, when you get a message.

twinArmageddons [TA] began trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG]

TA: kk where the HELL are you??
TA: ii know you were goiing two be late but thii2 i2 fuckiing rediiculou2
TA: iif you don’t want two come you 2hould have ju2t 2aiid 2o
CG: HEY ASSWIPE, HOW ABOUT WE DON’T ASSUME PEOPLE’S INTENTIONS BEFORE WE’VE ACTUALLY GODDAMN ASKED THEM
CG: FOR YOUR INFORMATION I’M GOING TO BE LEAVING IN A MINUTE, SO HOLD YOUR HOOFBEASTS AND LET ME SADDLE UP ON MINE
CG: I WAS JUST DEALING WITH SOME SHIT BECAUSE WHAT DO YOU KNOW? I ACTUALLY HAVE A LIFE! WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT?
TA: iif that liife iinvolve2 fondliing your2elf iintwo the early hour2 of dawn then ye2 ii have totally thought that already, and hone2tly iim not 2urprii2ed
CG: WOW, WAY TO BE SUBTLE ABOUT LETTING ME KNOW THAT THE IMAGE OF ME WITH A PAIL BETWEEN MY LEGS WHILST I PLEASURE MYSELF IS WHAT TAKES UP MOST OF YOUR PANSPACE
CG: AT LEAST NOW I KNOW TO LOCK THE ABLUTIONBLOCK DOOR IF WE EVER SHARE A HIVE
CG: WHICH WILL DEFINITELY NEVER HAPPEN
TA: how can you be 2o 2ure?
TA: ehehehe
CG: I'M CONFUSED, IS THIS AN ACTUAL ATTEMPT AT CONCUPISCENT SOLICITATION OR DID YOUR BRAIN FINALLY BLOW A FUSE AND MAKE YOU THINK THAT YOU'RE FUNNY?
TA: no kk, iit'2 not 2eriiou2, iit'2 NEVER fuckiing 2eriiou2
TA: al2o ii happen two be hiilariiou2 but you ju2t can't appreciiate my level of humour
CG: YOU MEAN LEVEL TWO, AS IN ONLY SLIGHTLY BETTER THAN BULGE JOKES THAT WIGGLERS TELL AFTER THEIR FIRST PAILING SCHOOLFEEDING?
TA: you mean liike you diid?
CG: SHUT UP CAPTOR, OR DO YOU WANT ME TO TELL FEFERI THAT I COULDN'T VISIT BECAUSE I WAS WORRIED THAT HER MATESPRIT'S ABILITY TO REPULSE OTHER LIVING THINGS WAS CONTAGIOUS?
TA: ii thiink you need to look at your wordiing there, iit'2 a biit contradiictory iif you a2k me
CG: YEAH WELL I DIDN'T FUCKING ASK YOU DID I CAPTAIN TAINTWAD
TA: maybe iif you diid then you wouldn't make 2uch an iidiiot of your2elf on a regular ba2ii2
CG: OH FUCK OFF!
TA: wow, much eloquent, 2o mature
TA: look kk ju2t get your a22 over here before ff get2 dragged two a meetiing or 2omethiing
TA: and try not two get lo2t agaiin

twinArmageddons [TA] ceased trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG]

Well that was a thing that happened. It's so difficult to tell if Sollux is acually joking or not sometimes. You hope he isn’t in too bad of a mood, because you’ve already dealt with one person’s problems and you won’t have Terezi there to back you up. Speaking of dealing with things, you promptly explain your situation to Eridan and all but shove him out of your apartment so that you can get ready. He’s going to complain later, but you need something to think about other than the fact that he just found out your blood colour – or confirmed his suspicions on it anyway. Seriously, why has nobody been surprised so far? Is it that obvious? You put extra foundation on just in case, and plead with the Gods that the palace’s security will be lax as Sollux says it is.

***

==> Karkat, visit Sollux and Feferi

“Karcrab!” Feferi skips over to meet you at the courtyard entrance, eagerly telling her guards to let you through.

You let her hug you because that’s just what she does, making sure to flip off Sollux when he starts sniggering in that infuriating nasally way of his. It only makes him laugh harder. Feferi looks a little sad when you tell her that Terezi can’t make it, but happily leads you around to the waterside regardless. There’s a snuggleplane laid out by the steps leading into the pool, which in turn is connected to the ocean. Everything is white marble and bubbly pinks, the usual fuchsia made brighter to fit the Palace’s new inhabitant.

Feferi orders her guards to back off – well, she tells them to leave, but they only get as far as the wall and Feferi seems to decide that it’s good enough – and then sits down on the plane, folding her skirt under her knees the way Kanaya does. You and Sollux join her, and whilst you catch up on each other’s lives, servants bring food and drinks out to you. You think you’d go insane if you were trapped in one place all night every night like Feferi, but anyone who complained about the food here would be a fucking liar that needed hunting down and culling, in whatever sense of the word they feared the most.

Then after finishing your third – maybe fourth – cake, you jump at the sound of something moving in the water, surprised to see that the face of a sea-troll has appeared above the surface. There is a pair of thick, round glasses pushed back up onto his head, sitting just in front of his wavy horns, one of which has a small chip out of it near the top. He’s pretty small for a violet-blood – you assume this is his caste, since he’s a sea Troll and basically looks like a mini version of Eridan – and isn’t showing any colour in his eyes, making you wonder how old he is.

“Oh hello Arriel,” Feferi says with a gentle smile, “do you have a letter for me?”

He opens his mouth to speak, but then his eyes flicker to Sollux and the only sounds that come out are a series of faltering, single syllables. His face is flushed bright purple, the colour stretching all the way into his fins, which are ragged around the edges. His gaze shoots downwards after a couple of seconds, and then he snaps his attention back to Feferi.

“Y-yes your highness.” He mutters, extending a small, white envelope out to her.

“Thank you sweetie,” she says, taking the delivery from his shaking hand, “but I thought I told you to call me Feferi?”

“Sorry your high– I-I mean, Lady Feferi.” He sinks down into the water a little, his fins drooping.

He has some sort of accent; in the way he trills his r’s and puts a twang on his vowels. It’s annoyingly endearing.

Feferi chuckles and leans down to pat his head, “Don’t worry about it.”

He gives her a tentative smile and after one last look at Sollux, dives back down out of sight. Feferi captchalogues the letter, shaking her head with an amused expression.

“Who was that?” You ask.

“My personal assistant Arriel,” she replies happily, “I took him in a few weeks ago.”

“You ‘took him in’?”

Her smile falters slightly and she lowers her voice, “The poor thing got lost in the ocean and washed up on the beach, the drones were going to cull him but I just couldn’t let them, he’s only six sweeps old.”

“Wow,” You can’t hide your surprise, although it’s more at the fact that Feferi was actually allowed to take him; she must be trying to start with her new definition of culling, “That explains why he’s so nervous; I thought he was going to bottle out of talking to you.”

“Oh no, that’s not the problem,” She says with a laugh, “you see he’s fine when it’s just me, but he’s got a little flushcrush on mister grumpy gills here and gets all shy when he’s nearby.”

Sollux rolls his eyes, “How can you be thure it’th a flushcrush? What if he’th jutht afraid of me or thomething?”

“Because of the way he looks at you!” Feferi pinches one of her Matesprit’s cheeks, dragging his mouth into a half-smile, “He always blushes around you and when he leaves he makes sure to look back at you first, it’s so adorabubble!”

“Well he’d better not get any ideath, I don’t want to be rethponthible for making thome kid cry by rejecting them, I got enough of that from ED.”

“Sollux!” Feferi taps him on the arm and pouts.

He chuckles and then kisses her nose, reverting the heiress back into her bubbly, giggly self. These two are like a romcom couple; completely incompatible in theory, but in practice they just work, balancing out each other’s personalities and finding common ground in the strangest places. Although you do wish they would stop being nauseatingly lovey-dovey around their very single friends. Except Nepeta, she loves that shit.

Chapter Text

==> Eridan, receive message from MC

maritimeCalico [MC] began trolling caligulasAquarium [CA]

MC: Hello
CA: uh hello
MC: You’rre Erridan Amporra, corrrrect?
CA: yes
CA: and wwho are you
MC: I’m Arrrriel, Lady Feferri’s perrsonal assistant
MC: We have yet to be forrmally intrroduced, so she told me that I should talk to you via this chat client

Arriel, yeah you remember Karkat talking about this kid, some six-sweep-old that Feferi decided to take in under her new version of culling. You wonder what’s so special about him that made her go against the drones to help him out, she’s even letting him use her haemotype for Cod’s sake. Unless… Maybe he’s a Tyrian too? No, the drones wouldn’t have laid a finger on him if he was, he must just be getting special treatment. In that case, you’d better play nice.

CA: okay
CA: wwhy did she tell you to talk to me
MC: Well this is prrobably going to sound a little odd
MC: But I have been given rreason to believe that we arre rrelated
CA: related
CA: as in we share an ancestor
MC: Yes and I know this is not an uncommon ocurrrrance, howeverr it is rrarre forr morre than a few sea Trrolls in each generration to sharre a specific blood colourr that they inherrited frrom said ancestorr, is it not?
CA: yes that is quite unusual
CA: so wwhats your point
MC: My haemotype ID is 6a006a, which I have been told is the same as yourrs
CA: right
CA: but youre like three swweeps younger than me so wwe cant be hatchmates or anythin
MC: I know, and I’m surre this all sounds rreally strrange but it would mean the worrld to me if you would just give me the benefit of the doubt on this
CA: uh shore
CA: so is that all you wwanted to tell me
MC: Yes I believe so
MC: That and how I’d love to meet you in perrson. I’ve neverr talked to anotherr sea-dwellerr besides Lady Feferri beforre and you sound like an interresting perrson frrom the things Sollux has been saying about you
CA: wwoww are you sure you still wwanna meet me if youre basin your ideas of me off a wwhat sol has said
MC: Yes of courrse!
MC: I know he’s prrobably exaggerrating, all Kismesises do
CA: excuse me
CA: i am definitely NOT in any sort a quadrant wwith that mustard blood
CA: wwhat exactly has he been sayin
MC: Oh!
MC: I’m so sorrrry
MC: He hasn’t said anything about that, I just assumed that to be the case frrom the way he spoke about you
MC: I apologise if that offended you orr anything, it was not my intention to prry
CA: no its fine
CA: sol an i dont havve the best track record wwhen it comes to not treatin each other like shit so its an easy mistake to make
MC: Oh, okay
CA: so you say he wwas talkin pitch about me huh
MC: Well I don’t rreally have any perrsonal experrience, but frrom what I’ve been told, then yes, I would descrribe his attitude towarrds you as firrmly in the darrkerr spectrrum
CA: hmm interesting
CA: wwell it wwas nice glubbin wwith you arriel but ivve got a class to get to
MC: Oh yes of courrse, I’m sorrrry if I distrracted you
CA: dont wworry about it
CA: an ill be sure to talk to fef about arangin our little powwwwoww sometime
MC: Thank you so much!
MC: And it was verry nice to glub with you as whale
MC: Goodbye Erridan
CA: sea you later guppy

caligulasAquarium [CA] ceased trolling maritimeCalico [MC]

caligulasAquarium [CA] added maritimeCalico [MC] to their contacts

***

==> Karkat, win

Thanks for the vote of confidence disembodied voice in Karkat’s pan, but that happens to be easier said than done, especially when you’re watching the last person who tried to ‘win’ leaving a trail of bronze blood behind them as they limp to the physician’s office. The actual victor wipes her sword clean on the grass, then struts back over to her class to be showered in praise. Jeez and you’d thought Kanaya and her chainsaw was scary; anyone who said Jade-bloods shouldn’t be Slashinaries obviously hasn’t angered one before.

“Karkat Vantas.”

You jump out of your seat as the instructor calls your name, sickle at the ready.

“Knock ‘em dead shortie!” Someone from your class shouts.

“Yeah! Show those assholes who’s boss!” Adds the little burgundy who’s name you have yet to learn.

A few others agree with cheers or whoops of their own, until the instructor gives them a sharp ‘shush’ and a nasty glare. You can’t help standing up a little straighter after that; you’d been worried that being the way you are would make you an outcast, but if anything you think it’s earned you more respect when you showed them that being short doesn’t mean shit.

“Davryn Stridr.”

Oh sweet fucking grubsacks no. You give the other class a sideways glance, watching Davryn get up at his own leisurely pace and wander over to stand a few metres away from you. He gets cheered on by his comrades in a similar way, except the taunts centre around the fact that you’re shorter than all of them. But you don’t let it get to you. You’ve had to deal with that sort of crap your entire life, and this time you know you can prove them wrong.

“Hey Vantas.” Davryn says, decaptchaloguing his – fuck, rather large – sword and slinging it over his shoulder.

“Stridr.”

“You ready to end the bitter sweeps of ass famine? Cause I heard that some Slashinary with cool shades is handing out asses on a fucking silver nutrition platter, and there’s already one with your name on it.”

“What the actual fuck are you talking about?” You would have liked to think of a better comeback than that, but you genuinely have no idea what he just said.

“Your glutes Vantas, when this is over I’m going to deliver them to you personally, all wrapped up in a shiny red bow.”

Is he saying you’re going to lose? Oh fuck no. “Yeah right Stridr, I think you’ll find that I will be taking the role of ass distributor tonight, and just for you I’m going to charge a shipping fee.”

For the first time since meeting him, you see Davryn’s expression morph into something other than complete apathy. He smirks, brows dipping below the rim of his glasses and pointed ears sitting just that tiny bit more forwards.

“You’re on.”

“Alright boys, save the flirting for the showers.” The instructor says, walking between you with a clip board in her hand.

Flirting? Excuse you, miss high and mighty, that was not flirting, in fact the mere insinuation that that meagre banter was your best attempt at blackrom solicitation is quite frankly insulting. Of course you don’t say any of that though; you don’t want an argument with Stridr and a wigglerish attempt at defending your pride to be the last things out of your mouth.

“Just in case you weren’t listening earlier, your objective is to eliminate as many training dummies as possible through fatal damage and in the fewest number of strikes.” She tells you, “The first one to reach the end of their lane and behead the final dummy, will win a place at the elite training day tomorrow night. There will be no direct combat until you reach the end of your lane, do you understand?”

“Yes Ma’am.” You both reply.

“Good. You may begin in three, two, one.”

She blows a whistle and you’re off like a gunshot, not even giving your opponent a single second of your attention as you slice through imaginary jugulars, sending cloth and stuffing flying everywhere along with the occasional limb or blank-faced head. You don’t even need to look back to know that they were all lethal, you could just feel it in the way your arm moved – you’re on top form tonight, not a single hit missed or step out of place. You leave a trail of plush destruction for your classmates to gawk at, their gasps and hollers barely registering within your deep concentration. Davryn is going to lose so fucking hard, that you will be literally handing his ass back to him and taping it to his hind end.

You can see the final dummy just ahead, and after another well-timed swing of your sickle spells the end of the last one in your lane, you sprint towards it and strike. Your blow connects with something more solid than you were expecting, sending tremors up your arm. The sound of metal clashing with metal rings out and everyone goes silent. You glare at the sword lodged in the curve of your sickle, then at the person gripping it’s handle. Davryn looks as worn-out as you, only just maintaining his composure as he pants for breath. His glasses and beanie are still on though, and you get the unbridled urge to knock them off and pin him to the floor.

You slide the blade of your weapon up to the hilt of his sword and push him back, but before you can do anything else, he spins you around with a careful flick of his wrist, leaving you completely open and unable to do anything when he puts his foot on your heel and an arm around your neck, forcing you back until you lose balance and land flat on your ass. Fortunately, you don’t yelp or make any other sort of embarrassing noise, but you have barely any time to recover before he forces the rest of you onto the ground and has a blade to your throat. One foot on your shoulder stops you from recovering your sickle – which you dropped like an idiot – and having the other between your legs makes you reluctant to try anything with your free appendages.

The head of the training dummy bounces down beside your face, a reminder that not only did Davryn beat you in combat, he also won the challenge at the same time. Fucking asshole overachiever. You growl up at him, but it only serves to maintain what little dignity you have left and stop you from whimpering because you’re about to die. He has you pinned, why wouldn’t he take advantage of it? Not like anyone is going to care once they see your blood. Hell they’d probably celebrate him as a hero for cleansing his academy of a mutant freak.

But strangely, your blood remains completely inside your body. Davryn removes his sword from your personal space and turns, walking back to his class to receive a wave of congratulatory pats on the shoulder. You grab your sickle and stand up, brushing the dirt from your clothes and resigning yourself to skulking around to a seat at the back. You really don’t want to talk to anyone right now.

“Oh my God stop sulking; you lost, so what? You’re just lucky he didn’t kill you when he got the chance.” A yellow-blood tells you once the rest of the contests are over.

“I’m not sulking,” You snap at her, “I’m contemplating my revenge.”

“Is he your Kismesis or something?” She puts her hands on her hips and it scares you how much she looks like Terezi and Sollux right now.

“Fuck no, he’s an insufferable asshole.”

She raises an eyebrow, “Sounds pretty pitch to me dearie, I think someone’s in denial.”

“I am not.” You angrily ruffle your hair, spraying more dust across the floor of the locker block.

“Whatever you say, just don’t be late for class later or Stridr is going to be down one potential quadrantmate.” She says, skipping out of the room.

“We were not flirting!” You screech after her, slamming your locker shut when she does nothing but laugh without looking back.

For fuck’s sake, your palmhusk is beeping, who wants a piece of you now?

turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG]

TG: wait so talking aggressively about having our hands on each others asses wasnt you macking on my spade?

No. Just no. That doesn’t even deserve a response. You ignore his message and instead try to figure out how the fuck he heard you, because he’s obviously sneaking around somewhere like a creeper and you can’t let him get the upper hand on you again.

“Fuck off Stridr.” You say to nowhere in particular, cautiously trying to look behind the rows of lockers as you make your way to the door.

Then suddenly that door is blocked by said shifty prick, his arm slamming down in front of your eyes quicker than your Lusus that one time you accidentally found an ‘adult entertainment’ website when you were three.

You don’t take a step back, even though your nose is inches from his sleeve, and growl at him, “What do you want?”

He takes out a piece of paper from his pocket and holds it out to you, not a single readable emotion on his face. You eye the paper, then glare at him as you snatch it from between his fingers.

To Karkles

IOU

One Vantass

From Dave

You take a deep breath and close your eyes, looking up at him when you open them with an expression that you hope conveys the sentiment of ‘are you actually fucking serious?’

“What?” He asks, as if your reaction is unreasonable.

“What in the name of a horrorterror’s swollen crotchrocket is this?”

“An IOU,” He replies matter-of-factly, “for your ass.”

You narrow your eyes, trying to work out if he’s one of those Trolls who takes everything literally, or if he just has a really out-there sense of humour. But as usual, you fail to discern anything from his pale face. God he is really pale actually, he looks almost fucking white. Wait, no, shit you’re staring. You turn your glare into a snarl, and for once he gets the message and leaves you alone. But just as his arm drops down and disappears from your peripheral vision, you feel something brush against a point on your lower back that is way too close to your legs for your liking. You instinctively lash out behind you, feeling your claws meet briefly with something and seeing Davryn recoil when the rest of your body catches up.

He frowns at a scratch down the side of his hand, watching the deep red blood trickle for a moment, before catching the drips with his tongue, licking all the way up to the tip of his little finger and leaving a pink smear behind. Part of you cringes, specifically your bile sack which may be attempting to reject your lunch at any minute, but the sensation is intermittent with these sort of fluttering, warm nerves that you recognise but you really don’t want to.

“Fucking creep.” You sneer at him, leaving the block before you let your body give your pan any more ‘I am extremely turned on by this’ signals, because clearly there is some sort of problem with communication happening.

***

==> Karkat, do the normal thing and message your Moirail about this

You pull out your husktop on the shuttlebug ride home – scrolling past a certain someone who will not be named – and type out a very long and angry series of messages to Gamzee, who is idle and not replying so fuck, guess you aren’t talking to him about it.

==> Karkat, message someone else

You send a final ‘DON’T WORRY I’LL TALK TO YOU LATER’ to Gamzee, and find someone else to vent to, because if you don’t do it now you’re going to end up exploding as soon as one of your blockmates asks ‘so how was your day?’ and that’s not really something you want to do. Sollux? No, he’d just tease you about it. Terezi? Nope, same problem, plus you’re pretty sure she’s got a flushcrush on Davryn so she’d probably say you were being unreasonable. Ha, ha, and also fucking ha. That leaves Eridan. Fine, he’s watched enough of your romance movies to at least be moderately competent in discussing this sort of thing. Not that you need romantic advice or anything, but it helps to have someone in the know.

You type out a wall of text before he can even reply to you, retelling the finer points of your day from the bowels of hell in full detail and with full use of your colourful vocabulary. And when you’re done, this is all that awaits you;

CA: wwell fuck kar

Well fuck? Well fuck? That’s all he has to say on the matter? You give him another thirty seconds because maybe he’s in the middle of something, but no. That’s all he wrote.

CG: WOW ERIDAN THAT’S SO INTUITIVE, I’M SO UNBELIEVABLY FUCKING GLAD THAT I ASKED FOR YOUR EXPERT OPINION ON THIS
CG: MAYBE NEXT TIME I’LL TALK TO A BRICK WALL SO I DON’T USE UP ALL OF YOUR MAGNIFICENTLY USEFUL INSIGHT.
CA: wwell wwhat are you expectin me to say
CA: ‘wwant me to come ovver there an smack some sense in to him cause thats clearly called for in this situation’
CA: ‘oh howw terrible that youvve got someone tryin to fill one a your quadrants wwhy dont i givve you some a my choice chat up lines so you can find a kismesis an wwarn this suitor off’
CA: ‘wwell fuck if wwere gonna do it like that wwhy dont I pretend to be your kismesis’
CA: any a those take your fancy
CG: OH FUCK OFF AND GO PAIL YOURSELF, I DON’T NEED YOUR SASS TONIGHT.
CA: then wwhy did you fuckin message me
CG: LOOK I JUST
CG: UGH
CG: FINE I SHOULDN’T HAVE SNAPPED, I’M SORRY ALRIGHT?
CA: apology accepted
CA: noww howw about you get one a your shitty movvies on that neww husktop i bought you an park your ass on my sofa for some relaxation
CA: an i got another surprise for you too but youre goin to havve to come ovver to find out wwhat it is
CG: HOLY SHIT REALLY?
CG: LOOK AT ME BEING TOTALLY DRAWN IN BY YOUR MYSTERY AND INTRIGUE
CA: kar im bein serious
CA: are you gonna come ovver or not
CG: FINE, I’LL GRACE YOU WITH MY PRESENCE, BUT ONLY BECAUSE I AM STRESSED UP TO THE PEAK OF MY FUCKING OCULARS AND THE SLIGHTEST OFFER OF RELIEF IS LIKE AN OASIS IN THE MISERABLE EXCUSE FOR A LIFE THAT I AM BOUND TO FOR ETERNITY.
CA: try not to sound too positivve or you might encur the wwrath a some angels
CG: ANGELS? I THOUGHT YOU DIDN’T BELIEVE IN FAKE MAGIC SHIT LIKE THAT.
CA: angels arent magic dipshit theyre mythological creatures learn the fuckin difference
CG: GOD OKAY FUCK
CA: so do you need a lift or are you alright wwalkin like a peasant
CG: I’M TAKING THE SHUTTLEBUG ACTUALLY SO FUCK YOU
CA: sea you soon then mister middleclass

caligulasAquarium [CA] ceased trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG]

Chapter Text

==> Karkat, be surprised

Eridan greets you at the gates outside his academy’s campus an hour later; you went home to have a shower first, no way were you going to his house covered in sand and smelling like a hoofbeast’s wastechute.

“Took you long enough.” He has the same bitchy tone as always, but the look on his face – the one where he’s excited but doesn’t want to show it, so instead he just looks like he’s got marchbugs in his pants and that’s why he’s fidgeting and twitching – tells you that he’s not trying to start an argument.

Having a good idea of what’s going on in his pan, you cock a disapproving eyebrow and follow him to his block in the residential schoolhive. It’s smaller than you expected, but still bigger than your entire apartment. It’s also less… Eridan than you had anticipated. No extravagant colours or decorations, just old dark wood floors, plain grey walls, and basic furniture with a few plush touches here and there. You’d almost say it was nice.

“So, what did you want to show me?” You ask, trying to stop yourself from staring around the room like you haven’t visited the Heiress’ palace.

“Okay so I found this in a box a shit in the respiteblock,” He sits down at a table against the far wall and picks up a small book, “it’s like a journal or somethin’.”

You join him across the table, “Do you know whose?”

“Looks to be Dualscar’s,” He opens the cover – black leather inscribed with their violet insignia – and flicks through a couple of pages, “either that or there’s another one of us sailin’ around out there.”

“Gods help us if that’s the case.”

“You wwound me Kar.” He says with a pout.

You sigh and roll your eyes, “So what’s so important about this that you invited me over?”

He smirks “Wwell, I wwas readin’ a bit earlier an’ Dualscar started talkin’ about your ancestor.”

“The Sufferer? Or the Signless or whatever people called him?”

Now this perks your interest, any mention of your ancestor was all but destroyed after the rebellion failed, hence why you know next to nothing about him besides his sign – ironically – and his blood colour.

Eridan nods, “Dualscar took him captivve, found him snoopin’ around on his ship wwhen it wwas docked for repairs after Mindfang bleww a great fuckin’ hole in the side, wwant me to read it to you?” He’s so excited about this; he really is a big history nerd.

“Yeah, knock yourself out.”

Eridan clears his throat, sitting up straighter in his chair as if he’s trying to channel the essence of his ancestor.

“I’vve seen him only once before, preachin’ to the Lowwbloods on the fishin’ docks about their privvelages, as if they could evver hope to achievve anythin’ better wwith their livves than to provvide nourishment for the highest castes of their race.”

Eridan pauses here and gives you a look that says ‘sorry about my douchebag ancestor, I’m not that bad I promise’ then after scanning down the page a bit – probably skipping all of the other offensive comments – he continues.

“For a Troll wwho is said to havve a presence that rivvals Redglare herself, I expected someone more substantial than the pup they marched into my quarters this evvening. Wwithout his podium and psionic guardbeast, this ‘Signless’, as he is knowwn, is no more imposin than a blind, newwly hatched dragon chick that flounders in the egg shells and gets tangled in its owwn wwings. In fact he is less so, as evven wwhen stretched by the chains of his shackles he still falls short of the creature’s height by a laughable degree. He cannot evven rely on his horns to gain him authority, as they seem to havve been stunted along wwith the rest of him, to the point that I at first suspected he did not havve any at all.”

Eridan is barely holding back his laughter by this point, his shoulder shaking with suppressed giggles. You sit forwards and smack him on the head. He apologises – still smirking – and then manages to compose himself.

“Though in spite of his shortcomings, he did not appear to be the least bit intimidated wwhen confronted wwith the business end of Ahab’s Crosshairs. Nor did he lash out after I spilled his mutant blood onto the floor, leavvin the knife buried in his flank wwhilst I enjoyed a feast wwith the rest of my crew, celebrating our neww levverage ovver any Lowwbloods wwho may revvolt against us. He is a king to them – a savviour – and it wwas only wwhen I returned that I understood wwhy.

“Wwhen I saww the defiant glare that he gavve me as I wwrenched the blade from his skin, those eyes that burned wwith the same colour noww dripping from my finest dagger, it felt like a challenge. Though a challenge to wwhat, I wwas not entirely sure. Then I saww a smirk flash across his face – slight, fleeting – and wwhen I blinked it had vvanished, replaced by the unwwavverin glower that kept our gazes locked. Noww I understood. I retrievved a sabre from my arsenal, and wwith it I slashed apart the chains that bound his ankles.”

Eridan tilts his head a little, looking confused at this sudden change in his ancestor’s behaviour, and beginning to mumble as he quickly read on.

“Next wwere the shackles on his wwrists; thick and made of solid steel, they required a key. Though his lowwer half wwas freed, he did not attempt to strike at me as I unlocked the restraints, and then he simply let his arms fall to his sides. It wwas only after I turned my back – using a mirror to keep an eye on him – that he showwed any sign of his injuries. I felt a brief urge to help him as he retrievved his clothing from the floor wwith some difficulty, a pang in my stomach that wwas quickly disregarded but left a slight nausea in its wwake. Wwhen he wwas done I shovved a cup of wine at him, sitting across the room wwhilst I enjoyed my owwn –”

“Hang on a second,” You say, sitting back and folding your arms, “are you telling me that Orphaner I’ll-shoot-everything-that-so-much-as-looks-at-my-ship-the-wrong-way Dualscar, is having a fucking drink with a Troll he captured for sneaking on board? Let alone the fact that said Troll is actually a mutant-blooded fugitive who’s looking to start a rebellion.”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Eridan replies with a shrug.

“Give it here.” You hold out your hand to him, feeling a slight resistance as he passes you the book.

You find the place where you had interrupted him and skim the next few paragraphs. They do indeed have a drink – a silent and probably very awkward drink – during which Dualscar muses over the fact that he hasn’t seen Mindfang in perigees like a hatesick fool, and afterwards he just locks your ancestor in the room and leaves. You tell Eridan this and return the journal, urging him to read the next night’s entry. He really does have a great voice for this sort of thing, probably aided by the fact that his ancestor is also rumoured to have had a weird accent.

“Wwhen I returned to him the next evvenin, there wwas no indication of the wwound I had inflicted upon him the night before. He greeted me wwith that same, taunting smile, and for the first time he graced me wwith the sound of his vvoice.

“‘Good evvening Orphaner, I wwas beginning to miss you.’

“He wwas mocking me wwith his honeyed tones, and in the wway he did not stand wwhen in my presence, instead choosin to lounge on the divvan that I had so carelessly neglected to removve before his capture. If only Mindfang had not been so ruthless in her destruction of the ship’s brig, I would havve had a cell to send him to, rather than making do wwith a modified storeroom.

“Evven wwhen I approached, he did not movve. So I made him, dragged him to his feet and then forced him to his knees. I told him that he wwould learn respect for his superiors, to wwhich he just laughed.

“‘You are talking of fear Dualscar, not respect. Nobody wwill respect a cowward wwho hides behind his blood colour.’

“He got a cuff to the face for that. He wwiped the blood from his lip and smeared it on my uniform. A blow to the shoulder and he laughed again. Grabbed by the collar and he smiled. Pinned to the floor and yet still he wwould not fight back. I sat back to admire him, sprawwled out beloww me wwhere he belonged, but I felt no satisfaction from my triumph. After all, is it strictly wwinning if you are the only party wwho tries?

“Unfortunately this momentary hesitation wwas one I could not afford; in a second the floor movved out from under my knees and found its wway to my back, and Signless found himself with a blade to my throat and his meagre wweight pressing dowwn on my stomach. I hissed at him and he replied wwith a growwl, his face so close that I could feel his hot, damp breath. I movved to throww him aside, but he intercepted by – oh!”

“What?” You look up at Eridan, who has abruptly gone quiet, a blush developing across his cheeks.

“Uh, wwell...” He trails off as his eyes continue to scroll across the page, “Oh God.”

“Fucking what Eridan?”

When he doesn’t reply, you reach across the table and try to snatch the book from him, but he easily holds it out of your reach.

“I’m not sure if you wwanna knoww, Kar.”

“It’s my ancestor, of course I do.” You climb onto the table and swipe at the journal.

Eridan leans away, tilting the chair so much that he falls backwards, taking you with him. Your elbows hit the floor first, sending pain shooting up both arms. Then your body squashes the air out of Eridan’s lungs, winding you in the process so that you can’t even cry out when you catch your knee on the chair. God you really wish he wasn’t such a drama queen sometimes. Okay, all of the times.

“Just, fucking, give it.” You growl breathlessly.

“Fine.” He wheezes, shoving the journal into your open palm.

You fake a smile and stand up, “Thank you.”

“But don’t blame me if you’re scarred for life.” He adds, putting the chair back upright so he can sit down.

Now even more curious as to what he got so worked up about, you return to your own chair and begin to read – not out loud though, mind you.

I moved to throw him aside, but he intercepted by catching my bottom lip between his teeth, his mouth pressing hard against my own. I grabbed the back of his thighs and squeezed, drawing a long moan from him as he discarded his weapon in favour of tangling my hair within his claws. Then he pushed away, retreating whilst I was still off guard. I longed for his warmth again almost immediately, for his touch against my skin, for the way he held so much power in such a small body. I reached for him and he did not recoil, letting my hands cup his face as I took a second taste of him.

You stop reading properly after this, just picking up the odd sentence here and there in an effort to prevent your face growing any redder. From what you manage to gather, the remaining page describes a half-black-half-red make out session, which only ends when Dualscar is summoned to arrange the remaining fees for the repair of his ship.

“Told you.” Eridan says, seizing the book from your hands.

“So what, were they like a thing?”

Your ancestor – the pacifist who wanted to overturn the Haemospectrum, who’d had a relationship with the Disciple that ‘transcended the quadrants’ and until that point was apparently celibate – had not just participated in, but initiated some sort of caliginous-turned-flushed affection with a violet-blooded pirate.

“Fucked if I knoww,” he replies, “wwant me to try an’ find out?”

“Yeah, just read ahead first okay? I don’t need to hear you describing our ancestors fucking or something.”

“An’ I wwouldn’t wwant to.” He mutters, pulling a face as he re-opens the journal.

He reads a few pages, and then turns back to where you left off, “All looks safe so far, it’s kind of endearin’ actually.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Endearing?”

He waves his hand to shush you, “Just listen to the next entry;

“The room wwas empty wwhen I returned the next night. None of the creww had seen him go, but interrogatin the dock wworkers yielded sevveral reports of a small, hooded Troll leavving the town at sunset. I felt stupid for letting him draww me in, tempting me wwith empty, pitch promises wwhen I already havve a rivval. I hated him for deceivvin me, accepting my redder advvances and then skulking back to his half-feral matesprit, playing me for a fool so that I wwould become lax wwith his restraints.

“At that moment, I ran as black for him as I do for Mindfang. Thinking about it again noww, my distain for him may be stronger than that I hold for my dear Kismesis. The next time I am wwithin arm’s reach of that mutant, I wwill make sure he nevver leavves my side again.”

“I thought you said this was endearing, fucknuts.” You interrupt.

“It is, God, givve me a fuckin’ minute alright? I can’t just skip to the good bit – that ruins the story.” He replies, exasperated at your apparent lack of appreciation for his ancestor’s tale, but carrying on regardless, “After that it skips a sweep, so I’m guessin’ that this journal is just for the time he spent wwith the Signless, wwhich is probably wwhy I’vve nevver heard a it before. The next part goes like this;

“It had been over a sweep since I’d laid eyes on him, so long that I had givven up hope of evver seein him again, thinking that he’d gotten himself killed standing up to a less tolerant – or perhaps less gullible – Highblood. So needless to say that I wwas surprised wwhen I saww those bright red eyes again, glaring up at me from under the hood of a Troll wwhom I had just caught stealin from my supply crates.

“Our time apart had quelled the hateful storm that once clouded my pan wwhen I thought of him, so evven after discovverin that he wwas a rotten thief, I felt more relief then contempt. He stood frozen wwhilst I decided wwhat to do, not attempting to run or fight, and wwhen I chose to haul him back onto the ship he put up little resistance, only tugging evvery so often at the grip I had around his wwrist. It wwas more for showw, a facade that safeguarded both of us, but wwas dropped as soon as wwe reached my quarters.

“He’s much more livvely wwhen there’s not a gash in his side.”

Eridan cleared his throat and turned the page.

“I learned his hatchname today. He gavve it to me wwith no persuasion required, wwhispered it in my ear as wwe rekindled our affections in the early hours of dawwn.

“Kankri Vvantas.

“Somehow it suits him. I offered mine in return and he took it gladly, purring it against my lips after kisses, and growwling it to my throat betwween bites.

“‘Cronus.’ It rolled off of his tongue so beautifully.

“I took to calling him nicknames; Kan, Kanny, Doll-face, Cherry, Shortass. He hated evvery single one, wwhich only made me wwant to use them more. I’d say Kanny is my favvourite so far.

“Wwe fell asleep on the platform, wwhich remains unused as of yet. Kankri is rather prudish for all of his advvances, insisting that his lowwer half remains at least partially clothed at all times, usually by those odd, high-wwaisted slacks. I wwill abide this rule, for noww.”

Eridan wiggles his eyebrows at you, earning him a hard jab to the leg. He sticks his tongue out, but then returns to his narration.

“I expected him to leavve again, for me to wwake up alone and cold, pining for him until he reappears. But he did not. He lies next to me as I wwrite this, penning a neww sermon, his handwwriting flawwless compared to my tired scrawwl. He has told me of his beliefs, some I agreed wwith, others wwe fought ovver. But I wwill not stand in his wway, and if he asked at a moment of wweakness I am not sure if I wwould be able to turn dowwn an offer to join him.

“I knoww he wwill havve to leavve soon, to return to his followwers if nothing else, but I pray that he wwill stay a wwhile longer, alloww me to showw him the true depth of my feelings for him. Red, black, it doesn’t matter. As long as wwe are together.”

He closes the journal and gives you a smug look that says ‘I was right wasn’t I?’

“Okay, it was pretty fucking sappy, I’ll give you that.” You admit, trying to hide the fact that you were beginning to get invested and could quite easily have listened for hours.

“More like the sappiest Coddamn thing you’vve evver heard; you nevver get to see this side a Dualscar properly, it’s alwways big fuckin’ ships, an’ fightin’ ovver treasure, an’ shouting at the neww recruits. This is the only time I’vve heard a him bein’ nice ‘sides wwhen he’s talkin’ about the Empress, and evven then he could be really fuckin’ salty.”

Eridan had begun to somewhat lose his tendency to drop g’s and d’s at the end of some words, but after reading out his Ancestor’s writings his accent is back with full force, making him sound like a really bitchy pirate. You will never confess to the smile you had to hold back, nor will you acknowledge the way he reminded you of your favourite character in one of the books Felina gave you. You will however, give in to your desire to learn about this part of your Ancestor’s life.

“Is there much more?” You ask.

“A feww swweeps wworth at least, but there’s lots a gaps, probably wwhen the Signless fucks off somewwhere. I’d lovve to piece this together wwith Dualscar’s other journals. Maybe he’s evven wwitten some under his hatchname, Cronus Ampora.”

“Well you can look for those later, I thought we were going to watch a movie sometime tonight?”

He pouts, “But this is so much more interestin’!”

“Fine, you read some more of that and I’ll pick a movie.” You move to sit on the couch – which is so fucking comfy, dear God – and decaptchalogue your husktop, opening up Trollflix.

“Take your time.” He says, his nose already back in the journal.

You try to be quick about your decision, but it’s easy to get distracted reading all of the titles and descriptions as you attempt to choose between the dozens of romcoms you have in your favourites list. You take so long in fact, that Eridan actually interrupts you first.

“Hey, I gotta piss real quick, but I think you should read some a this,” He says, depositing the book into your lap on the way to the ablutionblock, “page fifty fivve; paragraph twwo.”

You really did not need to know that, but pick up the journal regardless and flick to the page that Eridan told you.

The beast was still a aways off, thrashin around an sending threat waves to rock the ship. It wasn’t enough to throw anyone into the drink, unless a course you’re gawkin over the side like an imbecile when you’ve barely got your sea legs. I heard nary a squeak out of Kankri as he was flung overboard, landing face first into the ocean. I had our prey in my sights, but it would have to wait. I ordered the crew to keep us steady and dove after him.

He was squirming just below the surface, eyes squeezed shut and a stream of bubbles risin from his mouth. I grabbed him and bought us both above the surf, preparing to signal for a lifeline, when I felt somethin wriggling against his sides. I feared ice leeches, or worse, so in spite of his attempts to escape – and then probably sink into the depths, the daft bugger – I unbuttoned those ridiculous trousers a his. I was relieved when I saw his skin free of any aquatic parasites, but what I did find was not much better.

There were three slits betwween his ribs on either side, twitching an spitting water, bright red filaments reaching out each time they were submerged. They were not well developed by any means, but they were gills none the less. Gills on a mutant land-dweller, and I thought I’d heard of everythin. I had to see them workin myself. I sank underwater and dragged him down by his ankles, holding him still as he struggled, refusing to breathe anything but air.

Then he managed to get a leg free and stuck the heel of his boot square into my chest, using the kickback to reach the surface. I grasped his legs and pulled him under, allowing him only half of a desperate gasp for air. His whole body was trembling as he pushed against me, and he felt almost as cold as the water surrounding him. Yet stubborn as ever, he still refused to use his gills. Then his fight began to weaken and my pusher skipped a beat. It may have been his fault in the first place, but I’ll be damned if I’d let him die over a little anatomical dispute.

‘Captain!’ My psionic called as we surfaced again.

I waved to her and she lowered the lifeline, hauling us out of the frozen waters and onto the deck. I laid Kankri on his back and gave him a sharp thump on the chest, expelling the water from his lungs. Naxton brought me my rifle so I could shoot the wailing quarry that we had been chasing. We would only loose a little profit by not bringing it back alive and the beast went down with a single blast anyway. I gave the orders to retrieve its corpse and lifted Kankri over my shoulder, then took him to my quarters and dumped him in my cupe, wet clothes an all.

I set the temperature to high and changed out of my own soaked attire. By the time I returned he was awake and furious.

‘You tried to drown me!’ He yelled, his voice raspy and strained.

‘You’vwe got gills, vwhy didn’t you use em?’ I shouted back.

‘They don’t work!’ He thumped the edge of the cocoon, ‘You saw them, they’re torn to shreds and undersized as it is, I would be no worse off trying to filter sopor through them than water.’

I sighed, ‘Then vwhy didn’t you bloody say something? Howv vwas I supposed to knowv that your gills are shot to shit, if you don’t evwen tell me you’wve got em in the first place?’

Having no reply to this, he huffed and sank down into the sopor, then abruptly sat up to have another coughing fit. I brought him some water, but before I could get it down him, he spewed sea foam over the shirt I had only just put on.

‘Hate you.’ He murmured as I wiped his face.

‘Lovwe ya too Kan.’ I replied, kissing his nose and dodging his attempts to bite me.

It wouldn’t have killed him to show a little gratitude; I did save his life in the end after all.

I changed, again, and then left him in the far more capable hands of the ship’s physician. She was an old friend of mine, one I could trust to keep his blood colour a secret. That boy doesn’t know how lucky he is to be pitied by me, anyone with a lick of sense would have turned him in by now, not started pailin him in whatever quadrant he damn well pleases.

As much as it pains me to admit it, Mindfang was right, I am a hopeless fool brought to his knees by an off-spectrum half-pint, and yet I cannot imagine my life without him.

You read a little further than you had indented, but only one thing on those pages mattered; your ancestor had gills. It doesn’t seem possible, but why would Dualscar lie about it?

This opens up a whole new level of thinking in your pan; maybe your bloodline mutated from sea-dwellers, not land-dwellers, or maybe you’re something in between? Great, your history is even more fucked up than you thought it was. At least this explains how you caught that sea-dweller flu, which you still refuse to tell Eridan about. Hopefully you won’t catch any more aquatic cooties tonight; you need to be in top condition if you’re going to exact revenge on Stridr next week.

Chapter Text

==> Karkat, be interrupted

“It’s wweird right?”

Eridan’s voice makes you jump, and you look up to see him leaning against the doorframe.

“Yeah that’s one word for it.”

He saunters over and sits down next to you, “Sure you havven’t got any gills hidin’ under there?” He says, snaking his arms around you and squeezing the bottom of your ribcage. He’d probably have his hands up your shirt if it wasn’t tucked into your pants.

“No! Fuck off!” You squirm and push him away.

Oh fantastic, now he’s giving you the ‘did I do something wrong?’ face with the big, sad eyes and the droopy fins. God you hate that face; it makes him look so pitiable.

“I wwas only jokin’ Kar.”

You sigh, “I know, I’m just tired.”

“You alwways get crabby wwhen you’re sleepy.” He says, then his expression turns worryingly mischievous, “Howw about a little pick me up?”

“Oh God Gamzee hasn’t given you anything from the market has he? I told him to stay away from that crackpot shit.”

“No, no, nothin’ like that,” He waves his hand and stands up, “Dualscar mentioned havvin’ a nice collection of alcohol in one of his journals, an’ since wwe’re both old enough noww, I thought you could help me try some?”

You can’t lie, you have started getting curious about alcohol since you turned nine. Most Trolls try it before then, but you never had the opportunity, or really wanted to, seeing as mutant blood plus drunken pan probably isn’t a good combination. You trust Eridan not to take advantage of you though, which some people would call out as insanity. But there is one problem with his suggestion.

“So we’re going to go out and look for a treasure chest full of booze that’s older than we are?” You ask, trying to show your disapproval of this idea with a raised eyebrow and folded arms.

“No a course not, Dualscar hid it here before he left.”

Oh, how convenient. You are now a lot more on board with this plan.

“It’s under here.” Eridan says, heaving a rather large chest off to one side.

You expected to see an old-fashioned trapdoor or something, but there’s no sign to indicate that anything is hidden under the floorboards, not even a subtle marking. Eridan kneels down and taps on a few of the boards, eventually finding one that sounds hollow and lifting it up to reveal a hole with an open crate in. Holy shit. You knew sailors liked to drink, but Dualscar’s liquor stash is pretty extensive, even for a Highblood.

“Aha, here’s the one,” Eridan triumphantly holds up a rather substantial bottle of dark, pinkish-red liquid, “this wwas Kan’s favvourite apparently.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Kankri drank alcohol? I thought he was supposed to be abstinent?”

“He wwas also supposed to be celibate an’ look what happened there,” He replies with a smirk, “I think Sign’s morals wwere a little looser than he let on.”

You snort out a laugh and take the bottle as he passes it back to you – oh God, two hands required, this thing is fucking heavy. You’re not sure if you like the fact that Eridan has picked up Dualscar’s nicknames for your ancestor, but if you said anything he’d just whine about it. So you keep quiet and deposit the bottle on the coffee table as he retrieves a pair of cups.

“So what is this shit then?” You ask as he joins you on the sofa.

He picks up the bottle and turns it around, squinting in an effort to read the faded writing on the label.

“Some sort a fruit liquor,” He replies eventually, “it’s got a good vintage on it, not sure what it’ll taste like though.”

You roll your eyes and pick up a cup, “Don’t try to sound all fancy, I bet you’ve never had more than a sip of any sort of alcohol before.”

“Oh and you havve?” He says, not answering your admittedly indirect question, and then cutting off any further comment you would have made by popping the cork out of the bottle and sending it flying across the room, “Fuck that almost broke a wwindoww.”

“Wow, smooth move Ampora,” You snigger, “and you’re not even drunk yet.”

“Yet?” He echoes, half-filling his own cup before doing the same to yours, “Karkat Vvantas are you intendin’ to get me intoxicated?”

“Maybe.” You reply, sending him a possibly-slightly-flirty side glance.

He sends one back, adding a little fin wiggle that makes your stomach do some serious acrobatics. Okay Karkat stop, this is not the time to be flirting, not when you’re potentially about to get trashed on some random, old-ass bottle of spacecraft fuel that Eridan found under the floor.

“So,” Eridan says, eyeing his drink as if it’s laced with poison, “bottoms up?”

You take a deep breath, “Bottoms up.”

You raise the cups to your mouths, taking one last look at each other before downing the contents all in one go. It does indeed taste fruity, and for the first second or two you think it’s pretty nice. Then after you swallow, your chest is filled with a burning sensation that almost takes your breath away. You cough as quietly as possible, squeezing your eyes shut to stop them from watering. Shit, this stuff is potent.

You’re embarrassed to have reacting that way to just one shot, but when you hear Eridan making the same sort of noises and see the way he’s wrinkled his nose – which is totally not as adorable as your blood-pusher thinks it is – you feel considerably less conscious about your lack of alcoholic experience.

“Fuck he wwasn’t kiddin’, this is proper sailor’s booze.” He picks up the bottle to admire it.

“Yeah no shit.”

“Wwant another?” He asks, already topping up his own cup.

Wow, he moves fast. At this rate you’re starting to think he’s actually trying to get you drunk. Not that you’re going to complain though, you need some relief after the week you’ve had.

You shrug, “Fuck it, why not? I’ll get the movie set up.”

Trying to mess with your new husktop when you’ve had more than a couple of drinks probably isn’t the best idea, so you get the film ready to play as you sip – not gulp, sip – from your re-filled cup. It’s actually not that bad when you take it slowly, and the warmth your chest is definitely more pleasant in small doses. You could get used to this, you think.

***

==> Eridan, get another drink.

You finish off your second half-cup and lean forwards to grab the bottle, sitting back just in time for Karkat to decide that you will be his pillow. He tucks his legs up on the couch and rests his head against your arm, staying upright enough to not spill his drink when he takes a sip. You’ve seen the movie he chose before, but you don’t mind watching it again, if only to hear Karkat rant about it.

From the way he was acting, you’re guessing that Karkat hasn’t had a proper drink before – or at least not enough to get drunk – but you found another one of Dualscar’s stashes a couple of sweeps ago. Let’s just say that you didn’t remember how you got home that night, but it had something to do with a message to Feferi, which earned you a very long lecture whilst you were trying to deal with your hangover.

Karkat takes his drink slowly, and looking at your already half-empty cup, you decide that this would probably be a good idea for you too. You may be in your own hive this time, but you suggested this to give Karkat a break from his studies, and he certainly does not need to spend the night dealing with your drunk ass.

“This guy is such a prick,” He mumbles, “who in their right pan would choose their Kismesis over their Matesprit?”

“Depends who’s better.”

He looks up at you and frowns, just like you expected, “You disgust me.”

“You knoww I’m only jokin’ wwith you Kar,” You slide your arm across his shoulders, “you can’t compare redrom and blackrom, evveryone knowws that.”

He backhands your chest and then chuckles slightly, relaxing into you again. His hair smells really good tonight, sort of woody and spicy. You subtly take a sniff and then play it off as a sigh, resting your cheek on his head. Mmmh, yeah, that is a nice smell, you wonder if it’s natural or if he’s started using some sort of product. He shuffles so that you don’t have to bend your neck so much, which closes the gap between you even more until you’re sitting hip-to-hip.

It feels good to have him so close, curled up under your arm where you can keep him safe. It hadn’t really been a problem before, not seeing him for weeks at a time, but recently you’ve started to get this strange uneasiness whenever you’re apart for more than a couple of nights. Maybe it’s his blood colour? You always had your suspicions of course, but knowing for sure now that he’s an off-spectrum freak that should disgust you and have already been culled, if anything it makes you even more protective of him than when he was haemoanonymous.

God, you’d be taken in for psychiatric treatment if another Highblood heard you say that. Karkat would probably think you’d lost your mind too, and he certainly wouldn’t return the sentiment so you will indeed keep it to yourself. He does seem more accepting of physical contact since you found out about his little secret though, which can only ever be a good thing. You spend more time pondering your own moral values than watching the movie, but whenever Karkat starts talking you snap back to attention, even if he does have to repeat himself a couple of times.

Then about half way through he sits up and yawns, haphazardly reaching for the bottle to refill his cup. You’re really tearing through his stuff, there’s barely one helping left for each of you now. That probably explains the way Karkat is swaying slightly, or how his face is growing steadily pinker with no input from you. Okay, minimal input from you, if you count a gentle shoulder massage as something to get embarrassed over. Which for Karkat it might well be, considering how tense he felt and the fact that he also might have started to purr. You really like his purr.

Instead of returning to his position against your side, he reclines into the back cushions of the sofa and begins to mutter slurred insults at the main character and her romantic choices. Did you put him off or something? No, he would have said so, he always tells you when you step out of line. He’s good like that, so direct and assertive, but still in a way that you know he’s doing it with your best interests in mind.

God he’d make a good Moirail. Or Matesprit. Or anything really. You’d favour red with him though, your fuzzy think pan tells you. But then you force it to think about something else, because – according to Feferi – you’re one of those people who blurts out whatever they’re thinking when under the influence. You wonder what sort of drunk Karkat will turn out to be.

***

==> Karkat, get drunk.

You cannot be Karkat for the express reason that Karkat is already completely hammered. You can however, return to being Eridan, who is slightly less affected by the half a bottle of non-descript alcohol that he has consumed.

***

==> Eridan, watch Karkat get drunk.

You’ve started paying attention to the movie again, getting sort of sucked in because a sea Troll is now involved, trying to win the pitch affections of the main character who is currently too busy flipping black for her Matesprit, thus most of the poor sea-dwelling gal’s efforts are going unnoticed. You understand her pain.

Then for no apparent reason, Karkat starts to snigger. Does he find it funny that this lovely aquatic lady is getting ignored?

“Uhm, Kar,” You poke his side and raise an eyebrow at him, “Am I missin’ the joke here or somethin’?”

“Fins!” He giggles, having just enough sense left to put his cup down before he spills the remainder of its contents.

Oh dear. You try to drain the rest of yours, but end up almost choking as Karkat’s laugh escalates into a cackle. You love the way he sounds like a little oinkbeast, squeaking when he gets out of breath and then inhaling just to do it all over again. You cough and put your cup on the floor, where it promptly falls over and rolls under the sofa. Ah well, who needs cups anyway?

Karkat manages to stop laughing enough to open his eyes and grin at you, then moves onto his knees and grabs your fins, pressing the spines with his thumbs so that the membranes fan in and out.

“Fins, Fins, Fins.” He says with an almost evil chuckle.

You laugh back, trying to hold in the plethora of other sounds that result from having your flushcrush squeezing a rather delicate part of your anatomy. Then he changes the movement of his thumbs to draw little circles in your skin, continuing to make little amused hums to himself every so often. That must have been deliberate right? He has to know what he’s doing to you, and if he doesn’t then the fact that your face feels like it’s on fire should be giving him a hint.

But regardless of this, Karkat doesn’t stop. Your fins desperately wriggle under his grasp, and you let out a trill as you feel your limbs turning to jelly. He uses this to his advantage, gently pressing you back against the arm of the sofa until he’s sitting on your lap, then practically laying on top of you as you slip down further. Suddenly you don’t care if he’s doing it on purpose or not.

“I read this ‘n a book, ’bout how sea-dw’llers go all mushy if y’ touch their fish parts,” this last part makes him laugh again, but he quickly focusses his attention back on you, “you like it?”

Wow he is slurring a lot, but at least he can still talk; all you can manage is a nod and something that might have started out as a ‘yes’ before it got to your mouth.

“Maybe I sh’d call you Fins fr’m now on, huh? We c’n – hic – we can be like our ancest’rs.”

Thank Cod you’re naturally colder than him, or you would be seriously embarrassed by how hot you’re getting right now. Then Karkat lets go of your fins and uses his hands to prop himself up, leaving him staring right into your eyes just inches away from you.

“Erid’n,” He mumbles, pressing his forehead against yours, “Eridan.”

His breath is warm across your face, and you can smell the alcohol as if he’s holding a bottle under your nose. Not that there’s any doubt that he’s been drinking. You should probably warn him at some point that it makes him go red.

“Yeah?”

“Noth’n,” He says, “I jus’ like y’r name is all.”

You think of a rather humorous reply – in your opinion anyway – and have to stifle your laughter before you can say it, “Thanks, I like it too.”

“You ass,” He muffles his own giggles by pressing his face into your neck, “I was tryin’ to compl’ment you.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really.”

You smile to yourself, shifting your weight so that you can run your fingers through the back of his hair, “Wwell, I like your name too Karkat.”

You’ve called him Kar for as long as you can remember, so it feels strange to use his full name. In a good way though, and it really does suit him.

“Mmh, good.” He purrs, lifting his head up again.

Okay he is really close now, like you are totally within smooching distance, in fact you’re not sure how your lips haven’t touched already. He wouldn’t mind, would he? What’s a millimetre or two between friends? This would be, what, your fourth kiss now? Admittedly they’ve all been pale so far – and if you pull this one off it will be as far to the other end of the spectrum as you can make it – but you do distinctly remember the last two being all Karkat’s idea.

Then some romantic music starts playing – you completely forgot that the movie was still on – and Karkat is just there rubbing his face on yours and well, if you don’t kiss him now you’d probably hate yourself for eternity. Also, the amount of booze in your system is conveniently blocking out any reasons why this may not be a good idea, because you’re sure there are some. Maybe.

You tilt your face up and press your mouth against his. It feels like he’s hesitating for a moment, but then he leans into you, letting his weight rest on you so he can bury his fingers in your hair. You support him with a hand on his back, trying not to fall off of the couch as your legs get all tangled up together. This is nice, really nice, like the nicest thing you’ve ever had happen to you, and with Karkat to boot.

He nips and licks at your lips until you part them and wow his tongue is in your mouth now, that’s a thing that is happening. A chirp escapes your throat as you slide your tongue along his and he replies with a deep purr, relaxing against you even further. Good, he liked that, turns out you’re not the terrible kisser everyone thinks you are. That or Karkat’s too drunk to care, either one works.

You both flinch when your teeth accidentally bump together, but it does nothing to slow you down. Then Karkat’s hands find their way to your horns and you are literally melting, you’re a purring puddle of sea-dweller and there’s fuck-all you can do about it. Not that you want to do anything about it, not when you have an equally soppy Karkat sprawled across your torso.

You accidentally let out a whine when he pulls back a few minutes later, wiping the pink-tinged result of your combined spit from around his mouth. You wipe yours too, and neither of you take offense to it because having saliva on your face is never attractive. He gives you a light pap to your cheek, pressing a kiss against your neck as his head slips down onto your chest.

“Don’ worry, ‘m just takin’ a breath’r.” He says, his slurring even worse than before.

A simple “’Kay.” is the only reply you can manage.

You pick up the almost empty bottle from the floor, and somehow manage to drink from it without spilling liquor all over yourself. Good job Eri, you may not be able to string a sentence together, but you’ll be damned if you lose your coordination. Then Karkat ruins it by knocking one of his horns into the end of the bottle, tipping the remainder of its contents – which thankfully isn’t much – over your face.

“Tha’s what you get f’r not sharin’.” He chuckles.

“An’ noww there’s none left for anyone.” You grumble, putting the bottle down so you can clean your face with your sleeve.

He helps you somewhat clumsily, leaving his hands on either side of your jaw when he’s done, “Good, th’ bottle was gettin’ in the way.”

“Of wwhat?” You ask innocently, tilting your head with one fin drooped and the other pricked up.

He smirks and leans in closer, “Your mouth.”

“Oh, can’t havve that noww can wwe?” You whisper back, just able to finish your sentence before he cuts you short.

Although, when his method of shutting you up is to take back possession of your fins and mouth, you’re not bothered in the slightest. You’d love to rub his horns for him – make him feel as good as you do – but Karkat is always kind of cagey about his little velvet nubs, and by ‘kind of cagey’ you mean won’t ever let anyone go near them. He says it’s because they’re so freaky and short, but you’re hoping it’s because they’re really sensitive. Maybe you’ll ‘accidentally’ touch one next time you have the chance.

This is the last thing you really think about for a while, letting your mind go blank as Karkat treats you to another round of warm, lazy kisses. By the time you’re done, the movie has been over for quite some time and Karkat’s husktop has gone into hibernation mode. Sunrise also happened at some point, the light casting an orange glow into your block. As much as you don’t want to stop, you know that both of you should get to sleep soon, so the next time Karkat pulls back for a breath you give him the bad news.

“It’s mornin’,” you mumble, “wwe sh’uld sleep.”

He sighs, then gives in and moves to be more than a few inches away from your face for the first time in over half an hour. You suddenly realise that your legs and one arm have gone numb, and judging by the way Karkat is attempting to crawl onto the floor, you assume he’s in a similar situation. He reaches down to feel for something solid, but this tips him off balance and he ends up rolling off of the sofa, dragging you with him and landing flat on his back on the wooden floor. You squeak in surprise, but manage to brace yourself against the coffee table with your non-dead arm so that you don’t crush him.

“Ow…” He winces and curls onto his side, both hands wrapped around his head.

“Shit, are you alright?” You lower your knees to the ground and sit him up, cradling him against your chest.

“Yeah, ‘m fine.” He says, hissing a deep breath in and out through his teeth, “Tot’lly fuckin’ fine.”

“C’mon, let’s get you to the ‘cupe.” You pull yourself up using the sofa, almost falling over again as the room begins to spin – how fucking dare it – but managing to find your balance and then help Karkat to his feet.

He’s incredibly unsteady as you lead him around the furniture and into your respiteblock, something that you hope is caused by the alcohol and not a terrible head injury. Judging from the fact that you’re also finding horizontal movement a challenge – again, how dare this self-righteous room move like that when you’re trying to walk through it – your hopes are probably right.

He doesn’t argue when you assist him in the removal of his clothes, now too sleepy to care that he’s been stripped down to his little crab-print undies. You however, are still lucid enough to blush furiously as you help him fumble his way into the recuperacoon, which you’d set to a suitably high temperature whilst Karkat had been struggling with his shirt earlier.

He slips down into the sopor, relaxing against the side of the cocoon. Good, okay, that went surprisingly smoothly. You pat his head and go to walk away, but he grabs your hand to stop you, moving onto his knees.

“Kar wwhat’s the mat–”

Yet again Karkat uses his favoured method of cutting you off, putting his hands on your waist and pulling you closer. Your morals still clouded by a drunken haze, you indulge him without a second thought, also deciding that this is the perfect opportunity to test your theory on his horns. He gasps as you run your finger around the base of one, but rather than recoiling as you expected, he leans into your touch, letting out a whimper when you ghost your claws up to the rounded tip and then back down again.

You rest your weight on the edge of the cocoon and do the same with his other one, enjoying the way his breath hitches as he digs his claws into your belt. Looks like you were right, his horns are almost as sensitive as your fins and gills. Then as if Karkat can read your mind, he slips his hands under your shirt and traces along your gill slits with his fingertips. You shudder and begin to purr because this feels amazing and – oh Cod, fingers in gills, not good.

You grab his wrists and quickly, but gently, remove his wandering hands from your person. Oh great, now he looks sad, giving you the big saucer eyes like you just kicked a wiggler.

“It’s okay, they’re jus’ sensetivve.” You reassure him.

He nods and begins to slide back down into the recuperacoon. Lulling you into a false sense of security so that you realise almost too late that he has no intention of letting go of you, and you very nearly end up getting pulled head first into the sopor with him.

“Kar I can’t.” You tell him when he gives your arms another tug.

“Why?” His voice is half way between a whine and a growl.

“I jus’ can’t, ‘s not right for either a us.”

He frowns, but then reluctantly lets you go. You press a light kiss to his forehead, waiting until he returns your smile before leaving him to sleep. That was an impressive display of self-control, you think as you flop back on the couch. A few sweeps ago you probably would have leapt at the chance, literally, but after the whole thing with Feferi you gave up on getting a Matesprit out of anyone in your little group. You flip the lid of Karkat’s husktop down with your foot, then decaptchalogue a snuggleplane and wrap yourself up it in. You are going to have such a monstrous headache in the evening.

Chapter Text

==> Eridan, do um… Uh, fuck, what were you going to do again? Where even are you? Why isn’t there sopor?

You are awoken by the feeling of something poking your face, the prodding only getting more insistent after you try to squirm away under the covers. Oh yeah, you slept on the sofa yesterday, that explains why you’re so stiff.

“Hey, wake up douche-scar.”

Vriska’s voice is way too loud for your half-asleep ears, and you’re so tired that rather than questioning why she’s there, you just pull the snuggleplane fully over your head.

“Fuck off Vris.”

She snickers, “Wow I can see why you’re in such a bad mood if you drank all of this by yourself yesterday, which you did of course because nobody wants you for a drinking buddy.”

You groan as the memory of last night comes crashing back into your think pan. Well, most of the memories anyway, some parts are a little fuzzy. You can’t tell Vriska what happened obviously, but it is satisfying to know that she’s wrong for once; Karkat totally wanted to be your drinking buddy and you even got a make-out session out of it. You definitely went into your block after that though, so why are you on the couch again?

Oh Cod. You suddenly realise that Karkat never went home, so unless he snuck out early and didn’t leave you a note or anything, that means he’s still asleep, in your recuperacoon. He also possibly won’t remember what happened yesterday, which could be a good or bad thing, depending on how you look at it.

You sit up – blinded for a moment because Vriska has switched a light on right next to you – and snatch the bottle out of her hand, “Whatevver, howw did you get in here anywway?”

“Mind-controlled your neighbour,” she replies smugly, “did you know that he’s really good at picking locks?”

“Figures.” You growl under your breath.

Vriska waits whilst you put your glasses on and sort your hair out – as best you can anyway, it looks atrocious after how much you fidgeted during your sleep – busying herself with pawing through your belongings. Thank God you hid Dualscar’s journal. Karkat’s husktop is still out, but Vriska doesn’t know you bought him a new one so she probably thinks it’s yours.

“So is this business or pleasure?” You ask, trying not to betray the fact that your head feels as if it’s going to split in two.

“Both, well pleasure for me anyway.” She reaches into her coat pocket and hands you a letter.

After you take it from her, she folds her arms and smiles, evidently not going to move from her spot until you open it. You sigh, ripping the fuchsia seal at the front of the envelope and wondering why she would get pleasure out of- oh. Oh no. You hold in your hands a message of summons to the Imperial Court, signed by the Heiress herself. It already felt like someone had punched you in the gut, but now it’s as if your stomach as dropped right into your shoes.

“Wwhy do you havve this?”

She chuckles, “Peixes wanted someone she could trust to deliver it personally, just be glad she didn’t send Captor.”

You scowl at her and put the letter in your Sylladex. She just gives you that cutesy bullshit grin of hers and strides over to the door. Good riddance you say. Or this is what you would say, if she hadn’t paused at the sound of a disturbance in your respiteblock. There is a thud and a groan, then a scuffle and a series of profanities, followed by an all-but-naked-except-for-his-pants Karkat appearing in the doorway. He has a towel around him, which he is using to rub his face clean, but it isn’t doing much to stop him dripping sopor all over your nice wooden floors.

Having clearly not noticed Vriska – said spiderbitch is currently stunned into silence, her expression a mixture of shock and wicked amusement – he yawns and moves on to drying his hair. You quickly leap up and shove Vriska out of the door, somehow managing to take her by surprise so that she barely makes a sound until she’s already out in the hallway. There will be plenty of time to explain yourself later, without involving anyone else if you can help it.

Karkat jumps as the door slams shut, “Shit, you were out?”

You shake your head, “Just gettin’ a letter.”

“Oh.”

There are a few moments where the two of you just stand there, looking anywhere but at each other. Does that mean Karkat remembers what happened yesterday? Or does he not remember and that’s why he’s acting strange?

“Did you sleep on the couch?” He asks eventually.

“Yeah, thought you could use the sopor more than me.” You reply, leaving out the part where Karkat tried to drag you into the recuperacoon with him.

“Oh, you didn’t have to, but um thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Another awkward pause hangs between you, broken only by Karkat clearing his throat.

“Is there uh, anything else you don’t want me to mention?”

You open your mouth and then close it again, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

“Sorry that was really bad,” he says before you can formulate an answer, “I guess what I’m trying to ask is, how much do you remember about what happened yesterday?”

“Most of it, I think.”

“Okay, good, because I feel like my pan’s got some gaps.” He fiddles with the edge of the towel, pulling it tighter around his body, then he huffs and gives you this look like he’s annoyed and worried at the same time, “Fuck, did we kiss yesterday? Like as more than just friends?”

You suddenly realise that you've been holding your breath, so all you manage to say is “Yeah.”

“Right, a-and was that all we did?”

“Yeah,” you repeat, “wwe did that for a bit, then you rolled onto the floor an’ hit your head so I helped you into the cupe.”

“That explains the pain,” He mutters, gingerly touching the back of his head, “and that’s it? You promise?” He looks like he’s asking if he committed a crime or something.

“I promise, I wwent to sleep on the couch straight after, sea-dwweller’s honour.” You put one hand on over your blood-pusher, like you used to do when you were a wiggler.

Karkat cracks a smile, “Is that even a real thing?”

“Yes, but you’d knoww that already if you payed attention to the history schoolfeedings.” You tease, letting yourself smile back at him.

He laughs, visibly relaxing as he realises that nothing major happened between you. To be honest, you’re relieved too; yes, you like Karkat and you probably wouldn’t turn down an offer from him to go further than a kiss. But not when you’re both drunk, when he might regret it after waking up the next night. You are starting to feel guilty about the horn thing though, hopefully he doesn’t remember that.

“So, we’re still friends, right?”

Your blood-pusher sinks and it takes all you have not to let the corners of your mouth go with it, “A course wwe are.”

You’d hoped that some of what he said and did yesterday had been his actual feelings, not just the alcohol making him act like he was flushed for you. But no, it was nothing more than a red fling and he doesn’t even remember half of it. Which is fine, because at least he won’t feel guilty about disappointing you, and he’ll never know he disappointed you because you’ll always be his friend, no matter how much it hurts not to have him the way you want.

“Good,” He says, all of the tension finally leaving his face, “I should probably go now, I’ll just get dressed and then um,” He gestures to your respiteblock with his thumb, taking a couple of steps backwards, “yeah.”

“I wwon’t say anythin’ to anyone.” You tell him as he turns around.

He stops, then nods over his shoulder at you, “Thanks.”

***

==> Sollux, do paperwork

Your name is now Sollux Captor and yes, you are already doing the paperwork, you have been doing it for several hours and you think it’s about time for a break actually. You finish up the last document – which is an application for Arriel to be trained by the Captassailant’s academy along with the other violet-bloods – and then head back to your block. You’re not sure what good it will do if he gets accepted, considering that he faints at the sight of blood and in spite of having a very powerful scythekind strife specubus, you’ve never seen him even attempt to pick up any sort of weapon. But it might at least help him stop being so painfully shy, you hope.

Feferi is convinced that he has a flushcrush on you, since apparently he’s completely fine around just her, but if he sees you then he’s a stuttering, blushing mess. You honestly think he’s just nervous around all land trolls though, especially since you’re currently the most important Psionic on the planet and could probably kill him. But you won’t because Feferi adores him and he’s sort of cute in his own way you guess, even if he does remind you of Ampora in a way that makes you want to punch him sometimes.

You’re half way to your block, where you can finally get some rest and maybe take something for your headache, when the pager on your wrist begins to beep at you. Of course it fucking does. But you don’t mind so much after seeing a heart from your darling Matesprit at the end of the message, which is calling you to the throne room to observe a meeting. You try not to think about the comfort of your recuperacoon and obey the summons, taking a seat at your desk next to the throne just before Feferi herself arrives.

She is accompanied by her blue-blood guards, but still blows you a kiss as she ascends the steps and delicately positions herself in the large chair. She always looks so small sitting in that thing, her horns barely reaching the beginning of the ornate details at the top of the back, and her feet only just touching the floor. She’s wearing one of her more casual dresses – meaning it has only three layers of fabric instead of five, and doesn’t weigh more than she does – so it can’t be a very important meeting. Probably one of the academies asking for money.

A door to the side opens and Arriel scoots through, kneeling down on the opposite side of the throne to where your desk is located. Then the guards gesture for the larger doors to be opened, and a surprisingly familiar face strolls into the room.

“Good evening Your Imperialness.” Gamzee says with his usual whimsical tone, bowing slightly and then grinning up at Feferi.

“Good evening Makara.” Feferi replies, beckoning him forwards. She then turns to the guards. “Please leave us.”

They look at each other, hesitating to follow her orders until she shoots the closest one a rather nasty glare, spurring all of them to bow and then quickly leave. You never expected that Feferi could be so persuasive, but you quite like this side of her, as long as it’s not aimed at you.

Once the blue-bloods have left, she pats Arriel’s shoulder and nods, whispering something to him whilst smiling at Gamzee. The purple-blood smiles back and Feferi stands up, holding Arriel’s hand as they descend the stairs.

“Sweetie, why don’t you go and find something nice to wear for our guests?” She says to him, “What about some of the clothes that Kanaya made for you?”

Arriel looks at Gamzee, then back to Feferi with a small smile, “Yes Lady Feferi.” He says, bowing slightly before he skips off to one of the side doors.

Feferi watches him go, clutching her hands together in that ‘isn’t he so adorable?’ way, and you’re almost expecting her to actually say it when she turns to you. But instead, you get an enthusiastic ‘come here’ motion and a wide grin. That’s her planning face. Why is your Matesprit wearing her planning face?

You give her a quizzical look as you leave your seat, but she just giggles at you. Okay, now you’re severely intrigued. Perhaps a little nervous too. You put your arms around her when you reach her side, enjoying the way she squeezes you back and flutters her fins against your neck, gently swatting away all of the worries from your pan. You may be Feferi’s Matesprit and personal guard, but you’re also the Imperial Technician and still a Lowblood. So you don’t get to spend an awful lot of time with her, and when you do it’s usually about Imperial business. In fact, you don’t see either of your quadrants as much as you should, mainly because Aradia is a soulbot that lives with Equius, but you should still spend more time with her, with both of them. Probably Karkat too; he’s still kind of your best friend, even if you aren’t quadranted.

“Tho, what did you mean by guethtth?” You question, resting your chin just behind her tiara.

“She meant me, obviously.”

You tighten your grip around Feferi as Vriska Serket strides into the room, her boots adding a threatening ‘clack’ to each step she takes. She had come from one of the side rooms – evidently having been listening in on your conversation – but you didn’t know she was even in the palace. Why do you feel like you’re hopelessly out of the loop tonight?

“Ah Vriska,” Feferi speaks in a pleasant tone, although the stiffness of her back tells you that she’s having to force it, “I hope you are not only just returning from your task.”

“Don’t worry Peixes,” Vriska stops to straighten her coat – cobalt with silver piping – in a large golden panel, “I gave fishbait his letter just like you asked,” then she continues walking, her smirk widening, “you’ll never believe what I saw though.”

Feferi rolls her eyes, “I don’t care what Eridan is doing, so don’t bother telling me.”

The blue-blood’s expression drops to one of distain as she places her hands on her hips, “You’re so boring.”

“Wait a thec, you thent a letter to Ampora?” You try to sound more curious than accusatory, but you’d thought she had finally started to cut ties with that douchefin, and you were beginning to enjoy not having to endure his company.

“Yes,” Feferi replies, “I sent letters to all of our fronds, they should be here soon.”

Before you can ask why, another of the side doors opens to allow Kanaya to join your group.

“I apologise for being late,” she says, sounding a little out of breath, “Karkat seemed to have been out this evening so it took me a little while to locate him, but he should arrive within the hour accompanied by Nepeta.”

Vriska lets out a cackle, probably smug about the fact that she got back before Kanaya.

“Tavros and dragonsis – I mean Terezi – should be all up in here around the same time.” Gamzee adds, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets.

“Perchfect!” Feferi says, clapping her hands together with genuine happiness this time, “Equius is bringing Aradia along any minute now, it’s going to be so exciting to sea everyone!”

Yeah, exciting, that’s one word for it.

Chapter Text

==> Sollux, fail to be excited

You chat with Feferi and Kanaya whilst waiting for the others to get there. Of course Feferi has to excuse herself to welcome someone whenever they arrive, but you remain leaning against your desk. Aradia joins you, her new, blue eyes drifting over your rather elaborate computer setup. You explain to her how it works and she listens intently, making suggestions for improvement in that robotic voice of hers, which somehow gives her more emotion than when she was a ghost.

Most of your group haven’t really talked to her since she was alive, all claiming that speaking to a ghost was ‘too spooky’ or she sounded ‘too depressing’, and that her being a blue-blooded soulbot made them feel ‘uncomfortable’ because Equius might start controlling her. Which is of course utter hoofbeast shit, because Aradia may be a robot but it’s her soul that’s operating the thing, not coding or computer chips – she made sure to remove all of those. Your friends can be really dumb sometimes.

So far, everyone has arrived in pairs, but when the doors swing open in predictably dramatic fashion, you’re not surprised to see Eridan march into the room alone. His face is twisted into a particularly bitter scowl, and other than a nod to Feferi, he doesn’t acknowledge any of you or say a word to anyone. You know he’s moody but you’re seriously wondering what he’s got his panties in a twist over this evening.

“Hey Ampora, how’s the headache?” Vriska shouts across the room at him.

He glares at her but doesn’t say anything. Wow, he’s not even taking the opportunity to argue, he must be really miffed at something, and you’re kind of glad that it isn’t you.

“Aw don’t worry,” She continues, speaking far louder than necessary, “you’ll stop being a lightweight eventually.”

Still he doesn’t respond, but you can tell by the fists shaking at his sides that it’s taking a lot of effort for him to restrain himself. Why is he restraining himself? Normally he’d jump at the slightest provocation, make a big scene about how he’s “fuckin’ royalty” and you aren’t worthy enough because you’re clearly pitch flirting with him by starting an argument, but then if you call it quits he back-pedals like a chump and tries to bait you into actual caliginous flirtation.

“Good thing you’re not a Lowblood, I bet Vantas is-” Vriska’s sentence is cut short by a vase shattering against the wall behind her.

“Shut up!” Eridan growls, his fingers already wrapped around the neck of another fragile container.

“Eridan!” Feferi whips around to face him, almost slapping Tavros in the face with her hair, “Put the vase down.”

He ignores her completely, his eyes still locked on Vriska’s. The Heiress huffs and strides over to him, her cheeks puffed out and fins flared. It shouldn’t be cute because it means she’s angry, but you can’t help wanting to tickle her – which you could feasibly do without even moving if you used your psionics. That probably wouldn’t be a good idea though.

“Eridan.” She puts her hands on her hips, waiting for the violet-blood to look at her before she speaks again, “Put. The vase. Down.” she points at the sideboard where the two ornaments once stood, tapping her foot as if she’s trying to discipline a wiggler.

You know Feferi can handle herself, but when she’s glaring at an angry sea-dweller with reason to have a serious grudge against her, you can’t stop your protective instincts kicking in. Static crackles down your arms, sparks jumping to Aradia’s hand as it hovers over your shoulder. Thank goodness she’s shockproof, or your Moirailegence would have some serious issues. You take a deep breath as the cold metal comes into contact with your arm, her grip light but confident, in a way that says ‘I won’t hurt you but I also won’t let you do something stupid’.

Eridan’s eyes flicker to you, then back to Feferi, who is still watching him expectantly. He sighs, grumbling a “Sorry” as he puts the vase back onto the table.

“Thank you.” Feferi says, her expression composed as she walks away, head held high.

You’re bothered by the fact that you can’t work out their relationship. They clearly don’t get along, but there’s this remnant of Moirailegence hanging between them, like Feferi can’t ignore her impulses to be Eridan’s Lusus when he steps out of line. You know they grew up together, and they clearly still care about each other, but it’s not healthy for them to keep doing this. You can’t say anything though. As Feferi’s Moirail, it’s Kanaya’s job to broach that subject, not yours.

“And you,” Feferi hisses, having now decided to take on Vriska, “I’ve invited everyone here to discuss something important, so whatever problem you’ve got with Eridan can wait.”

Vriska scoffs, and it looks as if she’s about to start another argument with a sea-dweller – and a psionic by association – when the doors open again and the final two members of your group enter the room. Nepeta hops over to Equius with a grin, whilst Karkat stays off to one side. He looks a little pale, but that could just be his make-up, which you know he wears tons of even when he insists that it’s ‘just a bit of concealer’. Yeah KK, you keep telling yourself that the next time you leave grey smudges on someone’s shirt.

“Firstly, thank you all for coming on such short notice,” Feferi says, beaming at everyone from the front of the room as if she wasn’t just about to slap someone, “now on to the reason why.”

You can see the Heiress in her as she addresses your friends, and even more so when she asks Gamzee to retrieve ‘him’ before calling in her head scientist, Jaydel. Ah, so that’s why she wanted to talk to everyone. Arriel looks predictably terrified as he follows Gamzee back into the throne room. You hope he’s prepared to be shown off like some exotic pet.

“Everyone, this is Arriel,” Feferi says, placing her hands on the young Troll’s shoulders, “some of you have met him before, but for those of you who haven’t, he is six sweeps old and my personal assistant.”

Arriel gives a nervous wave, edging backwards until he’s almost leaning on Feferi’s chest.

“But that isn’t the most interesting thing about him,” She continues, “we found out recently that he has exactly the same haemotype ID as Eridan.”

Both violet-bloods perk up their fins at the mention of Eridan’s name. You know Arriel has been dying to meet him – no matter how many times you tell him that he’s a huge douche – so it’s no surprise that he gets rather excited when Feferi beckons her ex-Moirail forwards. Eridan takes a couple of dubious steps, barely able to say ‘hello’ before Arriel locks his arms around the taller sea-dweller’s waist. You stifle a laugh at the bewilderment on Eridan’s face, his wide eyes silently begging Feferi for assistance and arms held up as if Arriel is toxic.

“Aw I knew you’d get along!” She says, clapping her hands together.

“Yeah, great.” Eridan mutters, gingerly patting Arriel between the horns.

The small Troll looks up at his captive and smiles, then releases him and returns to Feferi’s side. You’d thought he would be too shy to speak, but apparently hugs are completely fine. Eridan smooths out his clothes, taking a step to the side and out of Arriel’s range.

Then Feferi begins to speak again, bringing everyone’s attention back to her grinning face, “But that also isn’t the most interesting thing; because I had my scientist Jade run some tests, and- well, why don’t you tell them?”

“Yes my Lady,” Jaydel nods and then decaptchalogues a large holo-screen, “since Arriel was in a less than fit state when he came to us, I took it upon myself to find out more about him, biologically speaking,” she taps the screen, bringing up graphs and rows of figures, “and after taking a blood test, I discovered something startling; not only does he share Eridan’s Haemotype – which they both inherited from Orphaner Dualscar – but this DNA constitutes exactly fifty percent of his genetic makeup.” she clicks on one of the images to enlarge it, showing everyone a pie-chart that’s half purple and half grey, “I have yet to discern the source of the remaining half, but I can be sure that it is also from a singular Troll, or very closely related ones from the same bloodline.”

“But that’s impossible,” Vriska walks forwards, eyeing the chart with her eyes narrowed, “no Troll has an exact fifty-fifty split in their DNA, especially not after so many generations, the mother grub makes sure of it.”

“Vriska is quite correct,” Kanaya agrees, also moving closer to examine the data, “and I do not mean to undermine you, but are you quite sure that these tests were accurate?”

“Yes,” Jaydel replies confidently, “I have run them multiple times and with multiple samples, there’s no mistake.”

That’s an understatement; she’s been in that lab every night and day for the past week, making Arriel into her personal pin-cushion.

“Do you havve any idea a the other half’s blood colour?” Eridan asks, joining in with the scrutiny of Jaydel’s results.

“Nothing concrete,” The jade-blooded scientist replies, “but I could hazard a guess from Arriel’s other unique quality.”

Without elaborating any further verbally, she walks over to Arriel and places her fingers under the hem of his shirt.

“Would you mind?” She whispers to him.

Arriel shakes his head, taking a deep breath and turning his face away from everyone as it flushes purple. Jaydel smiles and pats his head, then gently eases his shirt up to just above his gills. It takes a moment for everyone to realise what she’s trying to show. He’s got four gills on each side, just like every other sea-dweller, and as he breathes you can see the violet filaments just under the flaps – wait a minute. You can feel your eyes widening as they land on the second slits from the bottom, with their pink tinted skin and bright red filaments. So that’s why Arriel chose to put ‘calico’ in his Trollhandle.

You instinctively glance over to Karkat, who has gone even paler and looks like he’s going to pass out. He thinks you’re all clueless on his blood colour, but you’re pretty sure by now that it’s mutant red; there’s no other reason he’d hide it, and his ancestor was a cherry-blood so it would make sense. Then Jaydel’s voice draws your eyes back to Arriel.

“As you can see, Arriel displays two types of colour pigmentation, particularly around his gills, but if blood is drawn from these areas, it is his usual violet, not red as would be expected.”

To Arriel’s obvious relief, she then puts his shirt back down and allows him to scurry behind Feferi.

“As of now my research is incomplete, and I have shown all of you my work so far in confidence,” Jaydel says, her voice taking on an abruptly stern tone, “so I trust you not to tell anyone about this, for Arriel’s sake.”

Everyone nods and mumbles in agreement, even Vriska and Equius, much to your surprise. Jaydel seems pleased with their response, and after retrieving her holo-screen she leaves. Feferi makes no attempt to comment on what was said – currently too busy comforting her little charge – so you take the opportunity to check if Karkat is actually going to pass out or not. You sidle your way around the edge of the room and walk up to him, but it’s as if he doesn’t realise you’re there.

“Hey KK.”

Yet again he doesn’t register your presence, just continues staring forwards at nothing in particular with his arms tightly folded.

“Hey, KK.” you say it louder this time, giving him a light shock to the arm.

“Fuck–” He jumps slightly, finally looking at you, “Oh, hey.”

“You feeling alright?”

He nods, then very quickly begins to shake his head, and before you have a chance to question it he dashes out of the room. You move to follow him, but Gamzee is already in pursuit, so you leave them to it. Everyone else has noticed by this point, and you reward them with a shrug when they stare at you.

“He probably just needed some air,” Kanaya reassures you, “he has been looking a little peaky this evening.”

“Yeah.” You mutter, frowning back at the door.

You wait for ten minutes or so, giving everyone time to stop whispering about Karkat’s abrupt exit and for Gamzee to do whatever he needs to do, then you decide to go and investigate. Once out in the hallway, you notice that the door to the nearest ablutionblock is open slightly, and upon sticking your head inside you find Karkat, curled up next to the load gaper with his head on his knees. Gamzee notices you and says it’s alright to come in, both of you watching Karkat as you lean on the counters opposite.

You raise an eyebrow at Gamzee, who replies by miming a drinking action.

“He got drunk?” You hiss, feeling your psionics getting riled up again, “KK have you got a fucking hangover?”

The nubby horned ball in the corner just groans.

“What the shit?” You throw your arms down at your sides, making the lights flicker as sparks jump between your fingers, “Why would you do that?”

He manages a growl this time, and answers your question by giving you a good look at his middle finger.

“Fine,” You huff, “thtay there and thuffer, maybe thith’ll teach you not to be thuch a monumental idiot.”

“F’ck off.” You hear him slur as you storm out of the room.

He always has to have the last word doesn’t he? You wait outside until you’ve composed yourself, before going back into the throne room. Then fishfuck decides he wants to talk to you and the thin layer of equanimity begins to melt away just from the sight of him.

“Is Kar alright?” He asks, glancing behind you as if he’s expecting Karkat to be in tow.

“Yeth.” You snap, resisting your desire to punch him in the shoulder as you walk past.

Chapter Text

==> Jaydel, receive message from Rosali

tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering gardenGnostic [GG]

TT: Hello Jade, are you available to talk?
GG: Yes! Hi Rose! What would you like to talk about? :)
TT: I wanted to inquire as to whether have you attended your meeting with the Heiress and her associates yet?
GG: It just finished, why?
TT: Darn, I was hoping to catch you beforehand.
TT: You see I discovered something whilst researching my ancestor as you suggested.
TT: It turns out that she had an interest in natural science like yourself, however her methods of experimentation were a little more...
TT: Extreme, so to speak.
GG: What do you mean extreme?
TT: The short explanation is that she had a particular interest in genetic manipulation of living creatures, particularly Troll grubs.
TT: The long story is that she constructed a laboratory out on an island off the shore of our capital city, and would frequently visit it to further her attempts at artificially creating grubs without the need for the mother grub, and in some cases sans any sort of genetic material other than blood samples.
TT: I also found that she spent several sweeps in servitude to Orphaner Dualscar aboard his ship, where she gained his trust and acted as the resident physician, presumably to allow her access to the crew’s medical records and to give her an alibi for taking blood from them.
GG: I guess you could say that she was just preparing an alternative reproduction system in the event that anything happened to the mother grub
GG: But still, it all sounds really strange, especially since she was so secretive about it!
TT: Indeed, what is more intriguing is that during her time on the ship she recalls a particular Lowblood, one Kankri Vantas, who exhibited ‘most interesting genetic properties’ and appealed greatly to her current research.
GG: Vantas? I’ve heard that name before!
TT: You have? Then we appear to be in the same position, care to corroborate on our respective Vantases?
GG: Sure! I can’t be certain, but I think the one I’ve heard of is a little olive-blood named Karkat, and when I say little I mean REALLY little.
TT: Did he also have particularly short and rounded horns?
GG: Yeah! Lady Feferi invited him to the palace earlier for the meeting, but he didn’t look too well and ran out afterwards.
GG: I hope he’s okay :(
TT: Ah, it seems we are talking of the same Troll.
TT: I am unsure of if this is a good thing or not, considering the implications of our conversation.
GG: What do you mean?
GG: You don’t think he’s connected to your ancestor’s experiments do you?
TT: No I have yet to come across any information that may suggest something of that nature, though I will not rule it out as a possibility should my current line of research draw a blank.
TT: In truth, I am more interested in the young Troll you have been studying, Arriel is his name correct?
GG: Yes, although I don’t really feel comfortable discussing my findings on Pesterchum, so I’m sorry if that’s what you were going to ask :(
TT: Not at all, do not worry yourself, I know how important it is to maintain privacy when you are gathering information for the Heiress.
TT: I was simply going to mention that it may be worth searching off-spectrum when you next attempt to discover the blood colour of his other genetic donor.
GG: Off-spectrum?
TT: Yes, I will say no more than that.
GG: Alright, thanks for the advice Rose :)
GG: Byeee!
TT: Goodbye Jade.

tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering gardenGnostic [GG]

***

==> Tavros, try not to eavesdrop on the shouting Trolls

Sollux and Karkat have been having a rather heated discussion in your shared block for close to an hour now. You assume it’s about the fact that Karkat ran out of the meeting with Feferi this evening – the words ‘hangover’ and ‘drunk’ keep reaching your auricular canals, but you’re not going to judge – but they argue so often that it could be about literally nothing. Tinkerbull’s wings buzz above you, and you hear your Matesprit chuckle. Gamzee never really got to spend time with his Lusus – even now Goatdad is out in the ocean somewhere, rather than in a facility with the other large Lusi – so having yours around must be a novelty for him.

“Tinkerbull here is one wicked little motherfucker, y’know that Tavbro?” He says, tightening his arms around your waist.

You smile up at your Lusus as he hovers near the ceiling, “Yeah, he’s pretty cool.”

“A little miracle.” Gamzee mutters, resting his chin on your head.

You make a noise of agreement and lean back against his chest, supressing the shiver that attempts to crawl up your spine. It is in the resulting silence that you realise that the bickering Trolls next door have finally gone quiet, and a few moments later the door opens. Sollux leaves without a word, but you’re going to assume that they made up like usual. He does give Gamzee a nasty glare though, which you don’t understand, but for some reason it makes you want to run after the Psionic and ask why he decided to threaten your Matesprit like that.

Then a pressure mounts in the front of your pan and you realise that even if you actually had the guts to confront Sollux, you wouldn’t be able to because you can barely keep your eyes open. You pat Gamzee’s knee to try and make him stop, but the heavy air only dissipates after the swish of a grey cloak. You blink a few times and see Karkat leaning over your shoulder, his palm pressed into Gamzee’s cheek and gentle ‘shh’ noises hissing out between his teeth.

“Should I um, move?” You ask quietly.

“No, just like,” He waves his free hand like he’s tapping the air, “shift over a bit.”

You do as he says and lift yourself up over Gamzee’s leg, moving from your position in his lap and slipping into the seat next to him. Karkat takes the other side and Gamzee pulls you both closer with an arm around your shoulders. His fingers clamp around your arm, and if he squeezed any harder he’d probably give you bruises. But if it helps him feel better then you don’t really care. Bruises will fade, but if you let Gamzee go too far you might not get him back.

You nuzzle his shoulder, letting out a small chirr. Karkat mirrors your movements on Gamzee’s right, and something a lot like jealously sparks inside of you. Which is silly because they’re pale and you’re red, but every time you see Karkat able to calm Gamzee when you can’t… It almost makes you contemplate giving blackrom a try. Then Gamzee decides to kiss your forehead first and it’s like those thoughts never happened.

Chapter Text

==> Karkat, return to the palace

“Try not to look so nervous,” Kanaya says, placing a hand on your shoulder, “I assure you that this summons has nothing to do with the last meeting Feferi held here.”

You nod sharply even though you can’t bring yourself to believe her. You know that Feferi wouldn’t hurt a buzzbeast. You know that she’s your friend and she cares about all of her friends no matter what their blood colour. But since last night you also know that she’s been hatching a plan to overthrow the current Empress, and after a very long discussion – argument – with Sollux about that and various other things, you found yourself regretting ever opening your mouth. You’d gone off on some rant about how you don’t actually hate the current Empress as much as you should, which he’d taken to mean that you don’t want to help Feferi overthrow her, and you hadn’t quite said yes or no either way.

So instead, you’d offered up this pathetic excuse of not wanting to get involved, which turned out even worse than it would have normally because you were still half-hungover, and made Sollux pretty much convinced that if it was between Feferi and Her Imperial Condescension, you wouldn’t be choosing his Matesprit’s side. Which is stupid obviously; you would most definitely choose Feferi’s side because she’s your friend and shit needs to change in your society, it’s just that you wouldn’t do it out of pure spite to the Empire like some people.

Then no less than an hour after waking up this evening, you found Kanaya on your doorstop yet again to take you to the palace with her. You’re so nervous that you actually feel disappointed when you walk into the throne room alone and find that you remain that way – heck you’d have even been okay with Vriska or Equius being there, just someone else to fill the gap between you and the four high walls.

“Karcrab, you’re here!”

Feferi appears from one of the doors by the throne, then beckons you over with a “come on, this way” and leads you into a small room off to one side. She gestures to a chair and you sit down, relieved to give your shaky legs a rest.

“I know that Sollux has told you about my plan.” She says, taking her own seat “He also said that you might not agree with it, and before you try to argue, I just want you to know that I understand.”

“You do?” You ask, taken aback by her abrupt statement.

“Yes, he told me that you admire our current Empress, in spite what she thinks of warm-bloods. You think that what she has done for our Empire has been incredible and I do too; it’s important to show your people that you can protect them, and to show your potential enemies that they would be foolish to challenge you. It is indeed admirable to lead a race into victory countless times and gain control over so many others, I understand that, but what I cannot agree with is the way she treats her own people.” She’s speaking to you as if you’re some sort of important dignitary who needs convincing of her ideas, completely void of the giggles and fish puns that you’re used to.

You’ve never seen this side of Feferi before. She looks like a real Empress. You now understand why Vriska is apparently trying to go pitch with her.

“We are expected to follow her blindly even though we know that she would not hesitate to kill some of us, and I just can’t accept that.” She continues, her brow furrowing, “I want to live in a world where your blood colour is just that; a colour. Not a status symbol or a reason to be looked down upon. But I can’t do that if I am continuing her work to protect our people, and making connections with those who would be more valuable as allies than just another race that we eradicated.” She takes a deep breath. “That’s why, when I’m the Empress, I want you to be my second in command.”

“What?” You probably said that way louder than you should have.

She puts her hands out as if to placate you, “I know it might sound odd or even a bit daunting, but I know about your ancestor, about how he stood up for the rights of others, no matter their blood colour, and I believe that you can do that too. Karkat, you’re the one who keeps us together; without you the twelve of us probably would have never met. But even though I have friends like you now, I still don’t know what it’s like to be a warm-blood, I need someone I can trust to give me insight and talk to the people, and I think you’re perfect for the job.”

You swallow, fighting the urge to ask her what she meant by ‘I know about your ancestor’ and if it involved his blood or not, “I…I am?” You? Talking to people? Really?

“Yes, you shouldn’t feel pressured into doing this, and if you say yes then I won’t hold you to anything, but it would make me so much happier to have you by my side when I challenge the Empress.” She smiles at you, leaning forwards in anticipation of your answer.

But… You don’t have one. Your mouth opens instinctively but for once there’s absolutely nothing to come out of it, not even a sound that shows you’re at least attempting to speak. You close it again and bite your lip. Second in command to the Empress. That’s way better than anything you’d get through being a Threshecutioner, even if you somehow made it into the Flaysquad. But what if she finds out about your blood? She wouldn’t want you then, surely. Or… Does she already know? Do they all know? Is that why none of the ones you’ve told have recoiled with shock when they saw your freakish red eyes? Would the others just nod and say ‘oh how unusual’ if you took out your contacts and stared them down?

“Okay.” The word didn’t even pass through your think pan, and for a moment you want to take it back.

She grins, fangs like polished knives made of bone, “Really?”

You nod. You can’t take it back.

“That’s great! Thank you so much Karkat, you won’t regret it, I swear.” She jumps up, “You can go now, Kanaya will show you out, but I want to arrange a meeting with the others as soon as possible so don’t make any plans this week.”

“Okay.” Apparently this is all you’re capable of saying now.

You feel sick with nerves, but you ignore them. This is a good opportunity for you. If Feferi is willing to take in someone like that little sea Troll with the fucked-up gills, then you’ll be fine. This way you’ll have two sea-dwellers on your side. Well, assuming that Eridan still wants to talk to you after the event that shall never be spoken of again. God you really screwed things up there, good going Karkat, and you can’t even talk to anyone about it because he said that he wouldn’t and you sort of implied that you’d do the same.

Although you didn’t promise, did you? And surely Kanaya wouldn’t go gossiping about it to anyone. It’s not as if you’re telling her your darkest secret or anything – although you think she probably knows that one already – you’re just asking for advice. Wow, it feels strange to be the one needing someone else’s help with a quadrant for once. You keep quiet and follow Kanaya until you’re far away from the throne room, then you stop.

“Hey Kanaya, could I talk to you about something?”

She frowns, “Of course, what seems to be bothering you?”

“I was thinking maybe somewhere that isn’t in the middle of a hallway.” You say, absent-mindedly fiddling with the hem of the cloak she made you.

She nods and puts a comforting arm around your shoulders, silently leading you into another room. A room that apparently belongs to Kanaya, if the myriad of fabrics draped everywhere are anything to go by. She moves a pile of material to reveal a couch underneath, and then sits down on it, patting the seat next to her with a smile. You gingerly lower yourself onto the cushions, taking a few moments to build the courage to speak.

“I’ve done something that could possibly fall under the definition of incredibly fucking stupid.” You tell her, only giving fleeting glances to the almost pitying look on her face.

“Does this have anything to do with the fact that you stumbled back to your hive sporting a rather impressive hangover in the early hours of yesterday evening?”

You cringe, “Yeah.”

She sighs, and you see her rubbing her temples out of the corner of your vision. A flicker of anger riles inside your pan, but you quickly extinguish it because you have no right to be the one getting angry here.

“Tell me what happened.”

You slowly begin to explain exactly how stupid you were – missing out some unnecessary details and anything you don’t remember – with your voice maintaining an embarrassed mumble throughout. You don’t look at her once, and you can feel your cheeks grow so flushed that you know the red must be showing but you don’t even care. You feel like a wiggler, and from where you’re standing that isn’t too far from the truth – you certainly took your drink like a wiggler, that’s for sure, and then you ran away like one, and now you’re asking for help after trying to ignore it in a similarly wigglerish fashion.

“Does Gamzee know?” Is the first thing Kanaya asks.

You shake your head, “He’s been busy, didn’t think I should bother him with the fact that I can’t go one perigee without fucking something up.”

“But he’s your Moira–”

“I know.” You snap, “I know Kanaya, alright? But he’s spending time with Tavros like he should be and I don’t want my dumb problems to get in the way, so that’s why I’m asking you.”

She frowns, but then to your surprise, offers you a pat on the shoulder, “I think the person you should really be talking to this about is Eridan.”

You groan and cover your face with your hands. She’s right. She’s totally right and you know it. But that doesn’t make it any easier to accept.

“I understand that you wanted more of an answer,” She says, gently rubbing your back, “but I really do believe that my suggestion is the best course of action; it is what I would do if I were in your situation.”

You nod and uncover your face, taking a deep breath in an attempt to scrape together what dignity you have left. Then there’s a sharp knock at the door.

“Miss Maryam, Rosali Lalond is here to see you, are you available?” A voice asks from the other side.

“It’s fine.” You whisper.

Kanaya raises an eyebrow, so you give an enthusiastic nod.

“Yes, please give me a moment.” She replies, showing you to the back door, where you hear her say “You may enter” before you step out and you’re alone in a hallway that you recognise for all the wrong reasons.

You stalk past the ablutionblock that you had been holed up in last night, glaring at the guards when you leave the building. Sollux is going to have a fucking field day with this one – you know he’s got the palace wired, he must have, so he definitely heard everything you just said. Whatever, you’ll just argue about it until he gets over himself or gets bored. Or until you tell him to piss off because it’s not like he’s your Moirail or anything, why should he get to talk to you that way? You duck under the shuttlebug stop, leaning back against the cool glass with a sigh and wondering if your life can become any more of a shitshow than it already is.

Chapter Text

==> Jaydel, message your friends

gardenGnostic [GG] opened a private conversation

gardenGnostic [GG] invited tentacleTherapist [TT] to the conversation

GG: Hi Rose, I hope you don’t mind me contacting you so early and all secretive like this.
TT: Hello Jade, and of course not, but do you care to explain why?
GG: It’s about what you told me the other day.
GG: I ran the tests like you said and, well...
GG: I found a match
TT: You did? Who?
GG: I don’t know :(
GG: They’re in the part of the system I don’t have access to.
GG: I might ask Sollux for help but it'll be tricky to keep it a secret and I don't want to put him at risk.
TT: Hmm, that is quite the predicament. Could you find out anything at all that might help in uncovering more information?
GG: Well the haemotype ID came back as FF000, but there must be some sort of mistake because nobody has been recorded with blood like that except the Signless, and he never passed it to any of his descendants.
GG: Did he even have descendants?
TT: Well if my ancestor’s account is to be believed, then this ‘Signless’ and Kankri Vantas were one and the same, which would suggest that young Karkat is his descendant.
GG: But Karkat’s haemotype is 61921a, so he obviously didn’t get the cherry-blood gene, right?
TT: As far as we are aware, that is correct, but as we know it is fairly easy to hide such superficial features of one’s self from the Empire.
GG: You mean... You think he’s lying?
TT: I’m not saying anything for certain, but from what Dave has told me, his behaviour does seem fairly suspicious.
TT: For one, he wears sunglasses in his block but not when he goes outside.
TT: Apparently, he is also hyperaware of any potential injuries, stopping to check for even a minor scrape.
TT: And finally, Dave noted that this apparent ‘olive-blood’ has blushed warmer hues on occasion, but he wishes that we don’t pry as to how he acquired this information.
GG: Hehe! Dave’s so silly.
GG: But wow that is all pretty suspicious, like he really is hiding a big secret!
GG: Oh, speaking of secrets, the reason I opened a conversation was because I have something to tell all of you, is it okay if I invite John and Dave in here?
TT: Of course. In fact, I am surprised that they are online at this time of the evening.
GG: Hehe me too, they’re such lazy bums!

gardenGnostic [GG] invited turntechGodhead [TG] to the conversation

gardenGnostic [GG] invited ectoBiologist [EB] to the conversation

TG: hey ladies whats up?
EB: Hi Jade, hi Rose!
TT: Hello boys
GG: Hi guys!
GG: I’ve got something really important to tell you, but you have to keep it a secret.
TG: my lips are sealed tighter than the seams on a smuppets ass
EB: Yeah mine too, I mean you put us in a private conversation and you never use those, so it must be suuuuuuuuper top secret.
TG: were there eight us there
EB: Uh, yes?
TG: youve been talking to serket havent you
EB: Yeah, Vriska’s cool man and so is her moirail
EB: But you’d know all about that wouldn’t you Daaaaaaaave? ;B
TG: oh my god
EB: Hehehehe
TG: never do that again
GG: ANYWAY
GG: I am delighted to inform you that you’ve all been invited to the palace for a meeting with Lady Feferi!
EB: Oh, can we know why?
TG: i dont have to take my beanie off do i
GG: Because there’s something very important She wishes to discuss with us, and no, the beanie can stay hehe :)
TT: Does this have anything to do with what Miss Maryam and I discussed the other night?
GG: Yes! But I can’t say any more until later, so meet me at the palace gates in three hours :D
EB: Cool!
TG: sweet
TT: Excellent, I shall see you all there.

gardenGnostic [GG] closed the conversation

Delete records of conversation?

           > Yes                No

***

==> Karkat, wake up and have a bad evening

You do not simply ‘wake’, no, the universe thought to spare you that luxury this morning, in favour of waking you up with the sound of someone being murdered in your block. Your eyes snap open, your ears ringing with the echoes of a loud screech. You leap out of your recuperacoon, managing not to slip over and break your arm as you grab your sunglasses and drape a towel around your shoulders. Tavros is only just on the floor by the time you burst out of your respiteblock brandishing your sickle. Then you slip on someone else’s sopor trail and just have time to disarm before you skid into Terezi, ending up in a tangle of limbs on the floor.

“Dammit Karkat watch where you’re going!” She hisses, pushing your legs off of her lap.

“Well excuse me for being in a hurry,” You reply, straightening your sunglasses as you get to your feet, “I only a heard bloodcurdling scream coming from our ablutionblock, no big deal or anything.”

She scoffs, “It was just Nepeta accidentally stepping into a cold shower.”

Said cat-girl then enters the room, one half of her soaked with water and the other still flecked with drying sopor.

“The hot water isn’t working.” She says miserably.

“What?” Terezi marches over to the nutritionblock sink and twists one of the taps, “Oh my God, no!”

You follow her and stick your hand under the water.

It’s ice cold.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me!”

“But I have class today, I need to use the shower!” She angrily slams the tap down to turn it off, then pulls on a hoodie as someone knocks the door.

You all look atrocious – including Terezi, whose shorts-pants-things are basically hidden at this point – so the remaining three of you retreat into the ablutionblock block. Oh there's one of your shirts in here – captchalogue that just in case.

“Hey is everything alright? I heard a scream.” Lalita says, looking around your block as if she’s expecting a murder scene.

“Our hot water isn’t working.” Terezi replies.

“Oh, do you want to use mine?”

‘Say no!’ Your pan screams, but Terezi predictably agrees and then beckons the rest of you to follow her next door. You’re so thankful that nobody else is in the hallway when you have to leave your hive wearing nothing but some boxers, a shirt, and a drying layer of sopor. You also count your blessings that Stridr is nowhere to be seen, because you really don’t need to deal with him tonight. Lalita’s hive is pretty much a carbon copy of yours, except much, much neater. You wonder if Terezi knows where that olive-blood’s sweater went, because you literally haven’t seen it since taking it off the night you arrived, and you’d really like to burn it sometime.

Lalita shows you where the ablutionblock is, and Terezi darts through the door with a cackle of “Ladies first!”, leaving the rest of you to stand outside.

Her hair is barely dry when she emerges, and you get a lovely spray of water in your face when she runs past, in a hurry to catch the shuttle and get to her first lecture. You’d thought that Lalita would be leaving too, but apparently second-sweeps have a free evening tonight, so you feel a bit better about being at the back of the que. Nepeta goes off to her own academy when she’s done, and Tavros goes back to your apartment because his Cavalreaper classes don’t start till later.

Lalita hands you a clean towel, and you awkwardly shuffle into her ablutionblock. Your stomach lurches when you see that there’s no lock on the door, but she assures you that nobody will go in there if it’s closed. Sadly, tugging the handle doesn’t make it close any harder, although it does make you feel better, even if it’s just a psychological thing. You drop your sticky, sopor-covered towel onto the floor, then captchalogue your shades and pull off the shirt you hurriedly shoved over your head before following Terezi out of your hive. Oh great it was on backwards, you bet that looked fucking stellar. Davryn’s glasses also happen to be on the shelf, so it feels like that creep is watching. You nudge them behind a bottle of soap and then feel like a stupid wiggler. Ugh, as if this whole thing couldn’t get any more embarrassing.

Oh but you see, when your name is Karkat Vantas, it turns out that embarrassing isn’t enough for the universe, and it must keep your life in a constant state of mortification at all available times. So it is just after letting your boxers fall to the floor, that you hear the sound of footsteps passingly nearby, and scramble to grab your towel mere seconds before the door opens. Of course, it couldn’t just be Lalita checking up on you, or Terezi fucking around, or even Nepeta getting inspiration for her shipping wall. The first thing you notice, is a mess of white hair upon the head of the Troll in front of you, then you recognise Stridr’s pasty face and find a pair of burgundy eyes in place of his shades, wide and surrounded by white where there should be yellow.

You want the ground to open up and swallow you whole, do what this stupid towel can’t and hide the fact that your whole body is burning like the bile in your stomach. You want to scream at him, but you’re afraid that if you open your mouth, all you’re going to do is cry or vomit in someone else’s hive for the third time in as many days, or maybe both because that would probably be the most aptly humiliating thing that could happen at this moment. Your pan is racing too fast to form words anyway; you can’t even begin to comprehend what you’re seeing as you stand there, underwear around your ankles and broadcasting your blood colour in your startled oculars and flushed skin. Davryn’s hair is white and his eyes, his eyes are fucking white, and he’s not killed you yet but he can see the candy red in yours so why hasn’t he killed you?

He takes a step forwards and your sickle flies into your hand. You can’t manage a growl, and it probably looks anything but threatening as you try to cover yourself with the towel one-handed, but you hold the blade out to him and glare and bare your teeth, because you’re not going down without a fight and he’s just as much of a mutant as you are – wait. Davryn is a mutant. He holds his hands up and your already trembling aim begins to waver. You shouldn’t be fighting, you should be teaming up or something, standing together and doing all of that crap that Feferi talks about, proving your place in the world.

“Hey man I don’t want to look at your junk, just wondering if you’d seen my shades.” Davryn’s voice is completely calm and his face is set into its usual blankness, but the way his eyes flicker between your face and the blade… It’s so transparent how afraid he is.

You disarm and point at the bottle you hid his sunglasses behind.

“Thanks,” He picks up the glasses, and under the black varnish chipping on his nails, you see that the usual yellow is replaced by a stark, bone-white, “sorry for not knocking.” He mutters, then leaves without giving you a second glance.

You let out a shaky breath and sink down against the wall, wrapping the towel fully around yourself. That was like something out of a trashy romcom. What the fuck do you do now? Davryn has seen your eyes, seen the colour you’ve tried so hard to hide, and you threatened him like an asshole and God, your pan must be rotting in your skull, because you actually think you almost pitied him for a second there.

You shake your head and stand up. Davryn didn’t say anything, so you won’t either. You take your shower and let the warm water pattering against your back calm the nerves. Then when you step outside the ablutionblock, Stridr is waiting for you; shades, beanie, and nail varnish covering every inch of his mutant colouring. You become conscious of your own contacts and make-up, barely resisting the urge to poke at your face and see if it still feels caked in powder or not, because your blush feels as if it’s melting right through.

“You’ve got class later right?” He asks casually, as if he didn’t just almost see you naked.

“Yes,” You hiss back, “so if you’ll excuse me I’m going to leave now, try to contain yourself in my absence.”

“Want a ride?”

You frown, “What?”

He pulls out a set of keys, “I’m driving in tonight and I have a spare passenger seat, you occupying it would be acceptable payment for the awaiting ass transaction.”

“I’d rather pull my teeth out through my spinal crevice than be trapped in a bug with you behind the thorax,” You reply, “so thanks but I’ll take my chances with the shuttle.”

“And the weather?” Davryn steps back towards a viewing pane, pulling away the day curtains to reveal a scene from an apocalypse movie.

The rain is like a sheet of moving water, turning streets into rivers and hives into waterfalls, spurred on by the wind that’s making the top of the hivestem opposite you actually fucking sway. Then a crack of thunder rattles through the glass, followed by a flash that lights up the sky as if it’s daytime. You’d be lucky to make it to the shuttle stop, let alone get through the rest of the night soaked to the bone.

“Don’t think your makeup will like all of that rain.” He adds, throwing the keys up and catching them several times.

You growl, because you can do that now, “Fine, but if you mention that again I’ll tear your fucking throat out.”

He catches the keys a final time, then strides out of the apartment. You reluctantly trudge after him, waving goodbye to Lalita when she pokes her head out of her respiteblock. ‘Yeah thanks, where the fuck were you like twenty minutes ago when your blockmate was walking in on me?’ You quell these words with a sigh. There’s no point in picking a fight now.

The weather is just as diabolical as it looked, and you have to physically hold your hood up around your face, bracing yourself against a wall as Davryn unlocks his Scuttlebuggy, which is parked up next to the walk trail opposite the hivestem entrance. It’s rather small, and has a red carapace the same as his blood colour, but the interior is a dark grey. Thank God he didn’t match it with the colour he types in, or you might as well just be carrying a flag saying ‘hey we’re mutants you can come cull us now’. You almost smile at the phrase ‘we’re mutants’, but then stop, because the warm flutterbugs in your chest should never be connected with Davryn in any way, shape, or form.

You open the door once he’s… Done whatever you do to wake up a scuttlebug, and slide onto the seat. Oh God you can feel all of that pulsing circuitry and life support underneath you, that’s why you don’t have one of these things, it’s so gross. In a recuperacoon, fine. In a husktop, fine. Even in those weird seating devices that give you a massage, fine. But for some reason, you just can’t stand scuttlebug interiors. You try not to show that you’re cringing and close the outer shell. Then you hear something make a noise that’s not bug or Troll-like from inside the vehicle, and you almost jump off of your seat.

“The fuck was that?” You spin around, following where you think the sound came from, and find two boxes in the back nub wells.

The sound happens again, and it is definitely coming from the boxes. It also sounds like a squawkbeast.

“Yeah, caw-caw to you too.” Davryn says over his shoulder, completely ignoring your minor panic and pulling onto the road.

Fuck these things are even worse when they’re moving.

“That’s Bro and Jeff by the way,” He says eventually, “they’re the screechfalcons you saw when you tried to ignore my attempts at becoming acquainted.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Screechfalcons? Also those names are fucking stupid, and don’t even start with that shit about me walking away from you again.”

“Okay whatever, don’t blow your gander bulbs,” He takes one hand off of the steering apparatus to wave it at you, and you don’t think he even notices the way it gives you a fucking pusher attack, “anyway, screechfalcons are squawkbeasts trained to hunt with Trolls.”

You brace your feet against the floor, trying to avoid touching more of the bug than you need to, “So which one’s your Lusus? Or are you such a freak that you need to have two?”

“Neither, my Lusus is a Spleenfowl, y’know, the big fuck off ones that you can ride?”

You nod, then remember that he can’t look at you, “Yeah I’ve heard of them.”

The conversation stops there, dropping into a silence that’s verging on uncomfortable just as the academy comes into view. Davryn pulls into the bugpark and you get out as soon as the buggy shuts down, shivering because that was possibly one of the worst rides of your life. You’re never letting anyone except Gamzee offer you a lift ever again. Oh, the weather has improved to only cold as fuck and a bit wet instead of a torrential downpour, great, if you’d just waited a bit you wouldn’t have even needed a ride. You watch Davryn unload the boxes from the back, and then follow him around to the rear of the academy – you’re not going to help, just curious is all.

There’s a group of Trolls gathered by a large gate, mainly on the lower half of the spectrum by the looks of it, save for a couple of blue-bloods mounted on hoofbeasts off to one side.

“Kitty!”

You barely have time to react before Felina is ruffling your hair. You’d almost forgotten about your stupid nickname.

“Hey, it’s been a while.” You say, blocking out the way Davryn snickers as he deposits the boxes on the ground.

“How have you been? Are you enjoying the books?”

You don’t have any classes this evening, so you can afford to stand around and talk to Felina. You mostly discuss your opinions on the books and what she’s been doing lately, after you offer up a little summary of how shit your life has been the past perigee. She’s in Archeradicator training, which surprises you, but her crossbow is fucking impressive and you’d feel sorry for anyone who got within firing range of it. You also get to meet her Lusus Clawra, who is a very overly-enthusiastic Vulpecula. You don’t understand how people find these gangly, four-eyed monstrosities ‘cute’, which is how Nepeta described Clawra to you, or words to that effect anyway.

“This’ll be her first time out in ages, so she’s a bit excited.” Felina says, holding the creature by its cerulean collar to stop it from jumping at everyone.

You’re guessing that Felina’s Moirail is ‘protecting’ Clawra, like Equius is doing for Pounce, and Eridan for Crabdad – but we’re not going to talk about that last one. Or maybe we are, seeing as the fancy fish himself has decided to join the crowd.

He greets you first with a “hey Kar” that is almost painfully restrained compared to his usual over the top theatrics. God you feel like such a piece of shit, especially because this is the first time you’ve talked to him since ‘the incident’, and talking is a thing that the two of you definitely need to do at some point.

“Hey.” You say, and for a moment you want to hug him, or maybe kiss him, or do something besides just stand there.

But you don’t do anything because a, you’re a huge wuss apparently, and b, Nepeta turns up and saves you from the awkward silence like the best blockmate in the world.

“Sorry I’m late, I had to pick up Pounce.” She pats her Lusus on the head, then grins at you, “Hi Karcat, are you coming on the hunt with us?”

“No, are you all going?” You ask.

“A course,” Eridan replies, “the huntin’ night wwas offered to all the Academies, didn’t you see it?”

You vaguely recall seeing a notice about some sort of murder spree out in the country and promptly disregarding it, but before you can tell Eridan this, you are interrupted yet again by Davryn whistling loudly enough to make your ears ring.

“Hey! Cal!” He shouts at the sky, cupping his hands around his mouth, “Hey!”

You squint upwards in an effort to spot ‘Cal’, quickly ducking out of the way when a gigantic, white shape appears from behind the roof of a nearby building. There’s a gust of wind, the clatter of nails on stone, and then a sound like a squawkbeast that’s ten times too big. And that’s exactly what you find yourself looking at; a huge Spleenfowl, with a dark red saddle strapped between its wings and a blue ring around its lower leg. You’re guessing that’s a Highblood’s mark of protection on it. You’re not going to lie, this thing fucking terrifies you, but you stand your ground after only a few steps out of potential pecking range. Davryn opens the boxes to let the smaller squawkbeasts out, then puts on a pair of goggles, petting the larger fowl’s neck as he climbs onto its back.

A horn sounds somewhere in the distance, and all of the other Trolls mount up on their Lusii or other means of animal transportation. But Eridan hangs back when they start to move.

“You wwanna come wwith Kar?”

“Uh, no thanks, I’m fine, I’ve got shit to do,” You look at your feet and swallow, then drag your gaze back to his face, “you go have fun though, kill something innocent for me.”

Eridan frowns, then smirks a little, “I’d shoot a thousand wwhales for you lovve.”

He winks, then blows you a kiss, and it takes you a couple of seconds to realise that he’s joking and roll your eyes instead of blushing.

“Go on fishface, you’re getting left behind.” You say, shooing him towards the gate.

“They need the head start.” He flashes you a mouthful of white dagger teeth, then spurs Skyhorse to head off after the others.

God what the fuck was that? You had the perfect opportunity to just go hang out with him and settle the air but nope, you wimped out because you’re a huge Goddamn wiggler.

You spend a few hours in the literature block, walking up and down the rows of books with no real purpose. A few texts take your fancy in the fiction section, but you’ve still got two of Felina’s books to read so there’s no point borrowing more. Besides, they’d probably just reinforce to you what a wreck your quadrants are.

Classes are dreadfully boring, and you don’t even get to use the training field because it’s more of a pool after the rain this evening. As if your day couldn’t get any better. Maybe you should take Kanaya’s advice and message Gamzee? Oh or talk to him because his scuttlebug just pulled up opposite you.

“Need a lift invertebro?” Your Moirail asks, hanging his arms out of the window.

“Yeah, thanks.” You give a little smile and climb in when he opens the door.

He pulls you tight against him and pets your hair, but you don’t say anything until you’re back in your block – alone thankfully, and with working hot water again – where you curl up in a pile.

“My life is such a fuck-up.” You begin, “I mean I know I’m not the luckiest Troll alive, and I probably deserve that in one way or another, but I was adjusting to the usual amount of misfortune back in my old hive, and now it’s as if it’s had some sort of fucking exponential moult because I’m now within the immediate vicinity of other Trolls, so to balance out all of this new interaction I have to embarrass myself socially even more than before.”

Gamzee wraps you up in your cape like minced grubmeat in a plantmeal roll, which is strangely soothing even though you literally can’t move, “Tell me all about it.”

You take in a lungful of air, preparing to release the rant that’s been bottling up inside you for nights, “Well firstly, I’ve had more of those fucking awful dayterrors, like they’re worse than when I didn’t sleep for nights on end and then fell asleep at my desk, and they’re not particularly scary or anything, but they’re full of dead versions of us from other timelines, and I don’t want to get in to how we died, but it usually had some traumatic, bugwinged story behind it and I have to watch that shit on repeat because the more I think about it, the more I dream about it.” Another breath required, partly to calm your nerves because this is the most detail you’ve gone into about your dayterrors to anyone, “Then in my waking hours, I’ve managed to fuck things up with Eridan by getting off my face drunk at his hive and coming on to his flushed quadrant really strong, which is humiliating enough, but after that I made an idiot of myself at Feferi’s palace, which you already fucking know about like everyone else probably does. But I didn’t stop there, no, this evening our hot water was broken so we went next door to wash and Davryn walked in on me fucking almost naked, like we’re talking just a towel here, and it turns out that he’s a mutant freak too, not in the same way as me but still.” You let out a long sigh and go limp against the purple-blood’s chest, “I mean seriously, what the actual fuck?”

“Shit my brother, that sounds rough, like some sneaky motherfucker got the gumption to take your good karma and miracles, and then all up and trade ‘em with some nasty motherfucker who doesn’t even deserve it.” Wow, Gamzee actually sounds genuinely mad at this fictional luck-thief, “But don’t you worry Karbro, I know there’s a big motherfuckin’ miracle coming for you, and the longer you have to wait, the better it’ll be, trust me.”

“Well it’d better fucking hurry, or I’m going to find whatever fictional piece of shit dishes out the miracles and introduce them to my sickle.”

“Patience man,” Gamzee says, “that’s all a motherfucker needs.”

“Yeah, patience, sure.” You mumble.

Maybe if you’re ‘patient’ enough, you’ll just stop being Karkat one day and wake up on a different planet as some sort of primitive alien, wouldn’t that just be a Goddamn miracle of nature. Or maybe it would come under space-time’s jurisdiction. Oh shit, that’s what you’ve been doing wrong – cursing the wrong force of destiny! Why didn’t you see it sooner? Maybe if you scream at the sky later it’ll get the hint, or maybe it’ll just release some frustration and help you forget about this awful, long-winded metaphor. Is it even a metaphor anymore? You just don’t fucking know. You’re too tired for this shit.

Chapter Text

==> Terezi, get a snack

You put down the docket you’ve been studying for the past two hours and stretch. This case is interesting and everything – so far there’s been a hanging before court was even in session, which led to its rescheduling two nights later, but then it turned out that the man killed was a key witness that the defence had kept secret, so now the Legislacerator has to decide whether to continue her investigation for the truth on who put the explosives under the Imperial Clock Tower, or set about prosecuting the self-proclaimed murderer of the witness, who coincidentally happens to the accused’s ex-Moirail – but even the best Legislacerator can’t run on an empty digestion sac. Said part of your body agrees loudly as you get up and wander over to the nutritionblock, rumbling so loud that Nepeta and Tavros look up when you walk past. Nepeta gives you a quizzical look so you pat your belly and grin, then another hungry growl makes both of them chuckle.

Karkat doesn’t pay attention though, he’s too busy pacing around the hive with a chocolate covered waffle in one hand – you don’t know how he eats those things – whilst he taps fervently on the screen of his palmhusk with the other. Even when you almost bump into him, he just swerves around you as if you’re merely another piece of furniture in his way, not even a sorry or a single nanosecond of eye contact that implies he might have registered you as more than an obstacle. Fucking rude. He’s been like this for a few nights though, ever since he embarrassed himself at the meeting and then Feferi made him her future right hand man. You don’t doubt that he’ll do a good job; his cupeside manners could do with some work, but he genuinely cares about people and he knows how to get shit done, you’re just not sure if it was the right time for her to broach the subject.

But, as always, you can’t even mention any of it without him flying off the handle and into space where he enters into orbit around the planet of fury and rants, so you let him walk by and then head over to the thermal hull. You’re hit by the sweet smell of your left over dessert when you open the door, and your mouth begins to water as you reach inside to grab a piece of cherry pi-

Wait… Where the fuck is the remaining half of the cherry pie you bought last night? You sigh and march back into the livingblock.

“Alright, who knows what happened to my pie?”

Tavros and Nepeta look at each other and then shake their heads.

“I ate it.” Karkat replies flatly, eyes still fixed on his palmhusk screen.

He what?! You put your hands on your hips, “All of it?”

He finally looks at you, his brows furrowed as if you’re falsely accusing him, “What? There was only half of the fucking thing left.”

“Karkat!”

It took both you and Nepeta to eat the first half, how could he just finish it off like that? And he had that waffle too, you mean you like sweet things and food in general but even you’d struggle with that much.

“Look, I eat when I’m stressed okay?” He glares at you for a couple of seconds longer, then goes back to furiously typing, “It was your fault for leaving it in the communal thermal hull without any sort of labels declaring your ownership over it.”

“Stressed about what?”

“None of your business.”

“None of my-?!” You scoff. Right, that’s it. You stalk over and snatch the palmhusk from his hands.

“Hey what the fuck?” He lunges for it but you dodge with a step to the side, “Give that back!”

“Let’s see who’s making you so stressed.” You mutter, holding his palmhusk above your head.

“Terezi I swear to God, if you don’t give that back I’m going to fucking skewer you!”

You roll your eyes, “Yeah, yeah, that’s nice Karkles.”

“Terezi!”

You turn your back on him so that you can bring the screen close and get a good sniff. Hmm, lots of purple. Some yellow too, or is that green? You do another spin and lick it this time. Gamzee, Eridan, Kanaya and Sollux. Of course it would be those four stressing him out.

“That’s so fucking gross!” Karkat screeches from behind you, practically climbing onto your back to try and reach over your shoulder and snatch his palmhusk.

You let him have it, and you’re unable to hold in a snort of laughter when he immediately starts complaining about having your spit all over the screen. Honestly, that boy is never happy. Nepeta is hiding her grin behind her husktop when you sit down on the couch, tablet already decaptchalogued in preparation for documenting what probably seemed like blackrom flirting. You’re used to it by now – her shipping and Karkat’s temper – and by the looks of it so is Tavros, who just carries on reading his book like he didn’t even notice. You should also be used to Karkat freaking out over everything and then pretending he’s fine, but no matter how many times he does it, you just can’t overlook the way he chews his lip until it bleeds – which creates yet more freaking out – or how he can’t seem to sit down, or how some evenings he looks like he was up all day and didn’t get any sleep.

You can’t just ignore that, so when he paces himself into his respiteblock with his cloak swathed around him, you follow. He’s standing opposite his movie collection, hands braced on one of the shelves as he stares down at the rows of trashy romantic flics. He does this a lot, you’ve noticed; just looking at them, as if there’s a riddle in the titles and he’s trying to figure it out. You close the door and step closer to him.

“Go away.” He says before you even open your mouth.

“Karkat, just tell me what–”

“No.”

You bite back the snark on the tip of your tongue, taking a deep breath before you ask “Why?”

He closes his eyes, “Terezi just fucking drop it.”

“I will if you tell me why.”

He growls and whips around to face you, “I can’t tell you! If I tell you, then you’ll want to help, and then when I fuck this all up I’ll drag you down with me, and I, I could never forgive myself for that, I couldn’t live with the guilt of making you suffer because I’m the biggest waste of space this shitty planet has ever known,” His voice is close to breaking by this point, and you can see him desperately blinking away tears and swallowing sobs, but he doesn’t stop, “I always screw up, always, in everything I do, you all trust me with your fucking lives and I ruin everything, all the t-time, for everyone, and I just can’t do that to you!”

By some miracle he’s still not crying, at least not physically, but he sounds like a bottle of emotional faygo that’s been shaken and shaken until it’s fizzing and spurting, ready to burst. What does he mean you trust him with your lives? That he always screws up? He’s speaking as if he’s...

It all makes sense.

“You’ve seen them too haven’t you?” You ask, wanting to comfort him but not daring to move and speak at the same time in case it’s too much.

He winces, his mouth turning down even further as he gives you a few solemn nods, dropping his watery gaze to the floor. He doesn’t question what you mean, or why you added ‘too’. He just stands there, pulling himself back together breath by breath until he can look up.

“We die so much.” He says quietly, like a wiggler who’s just watched their Lusus kill something for the first time.

You sigh, moving close enough to see the crimson sheen across the bottoms of his eyes, “I know.”

Your dayterrors started last perigee. You’d thought it was just from being in new surroundings, separated from your friends by more than just distance. But even when everyone was together, they didn’t stop. It got better after everyone had settled in, Karkat was in his academy and his disguise was working, Lalita was like a second Lusus, and not just with your Legislacerator work. You met Dave, became friends, maybe even started feeling a little flush for him and his silly metaphors or funny drawings he would send you. But the terrors never went away, not completely. You don’t know how long Karkat’s been struggling with them – and you’re not about to ask him either – but if they’re anything like yours, then it doesn’t matter if it’s just a few nights or half a sweep.

You put your hand on his shoulder and his composure fractures, a few tears slipping down his face as he takes deep breaths and balls his hands into fists, wrists crossed just below his chest. You’ve seen him do that before too; it’s a wiggler thing, when you would curl in all of your limbs and just breathe, trying to seem as small as possible and stop yourself from panicking. It’s a defence mechanism, for when you felt as if you were exposed and there was nothing to shield you from whatever was threating you. Usually that was something physical, like another Troll or a wild animal, but with Karkat it’s all in his head, the visions of everyone dying poking little holes in his sanity until one day they become tears and then there’s just nothing left.

Your pusher aches for him like it hasn’t in sweeps, but you don’t shush or pap or wipe his tears. You’re just a hand on his shoulder, keeping him grounded with gentle pressure and your silent presence. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back, taking one last deep inhale through his nose as he relaxes his arms, then letting it out through his mouth. Then he wipes his face and sniffs, and when he opens his eyes it’s as if nothing happened.

“Okay, wow, fuck,” He says, dabbing the last of the dampness from his cheeks, “well that didn’t exactly go as I’d planned, I was thinking more along the lines of rowing like wigglers who both want the same hopbeast toy that some asshole dumped near the brooding caverns just to watch the grubs fight over it, and then me going to buy you a replacement pie just to shut you up, not having one of the most awkward impromptu feelings jams in the history of unquadranted platonic affection.”

You laugh a little and squeeze his arm, “Does anything ever go as we planned?”

He lets out something that’s between a chuckle and a sigh, “Not really.”

Both of you go silent after that, so you let go of him and change the subject before things start getting uncomfortable.

“I’m going to go put labels on all my food,” You tell him, “and if you touch any of it then I’ll lick your husktop next time.”

He scoffs and shakes his head, but when your eyes meet he gives you a lopsided smile. You give him one back, but before you can leave his respite block he catches your sleeve.

“Um, you didn’t actually read any of my conversations, did you?” He asks, his voice lacking any of the accusatory spite you expected.

“No, of course not.” You reply, making eye contact with him so that he knows you’re telling the truth.

“Okay, cool, good.” He lets go of you and relaxes.

Did he really think you’d invade his privacy like that? No it’s probably just the stress talking, making him more paranoid than usual. You nod, then walk out, hoping that once you’ve closed the door he decides to talk to Gamzee or Kanaya or someone about what he’s going through. Heck, you’d even settle for Ampora at this point, just anyone that Karkat feels he isn’t going to ‘drag down’ by telling them all of his problems.

You don’t know if Nepeta and Tavros heard anything that Karkat said, but if they did then they don’t show it. They just smile at you and then return to whatever they were doing. You wonder if they have dayterrors too, and if they’re the same as yours and what you assume Karkat’s to be. Most of you hopes they don’t, but there’s this tiny, horrible voice in your pan that wants them to know what you’re going through, what you see every so often regardless of what you do or how you sleep. You don’t like that part of you, and decide to ignore it, instead pulling out your own palmhusk to message Vriska. You’re not going to tell her what happened, but even if you can’t be anything more than a friend for Karkat, you are not going to fail your Moirail.

gallowsCalibrator [GC] began trolling aracnidsGrip [AG]

GC: H3Y >:]
AG: Heeeeeeeey
AG: Good timing actually Pryope, you’re just the girl I need.
GC: OH GOD WH4T H4V3 YOU DON3
AG: Who says I’ve done anything?
AG: c8n’t I just want to talk with my moirail?
GC: Y34H L1K3 1 B3L13V3 TH4T
AG: Okay fine.
AG: I was just wondering if you knew anything a8out cert8in laws that might inhi8it the production of alcohol on campus?
AG: For hypothetical purposes o8viously.

Here we go. At least it’s not drama you guess, just a bit of harmless potential law breaking which you, as the responsible half of this diamond, have to put a stop to in the most delicate way possible.

GC: HOW 4BOUT 1 DON’T T3LL YOU 4ND TH3N W3 FORG3T TH4T TH1S CONV3RS4T1ON 3V3R H4PP3N3D >:P
AG: uuuuuuuugggggggghhhhhhhh
AG: Have I ever told you how 8oring you are?
GC: PR3TTY MUCH 3V3RY N1GHT Y34H
AG: Okay just checking
AG: Wouldn’t want my moirail wrongly thinking that they weren’t a giant vertical frond in the mud
GC: WOW YOU’R3 SO CONS1D3R4T3 VR1SK4!!
GC: >:O *G3NU1N3 SHOCK*
AG: Laugh it up all you w8nt Pyrope, 8ut eeeeeeeeveryone knows that I’m the most interesting one out of all of you dwee8s by far.
GC: SUR3 YOU 4R3 >;]
AG: Are you 8eing sarcastic with me?
AG: Are you trying to trick me into giving you a compliment because you agreed with me?
AG: Are those things you’re doing to me Redglare?
GC: H3H3 >:D

Your conversation then proceeds to dissolve into a roleplaying shambles that you’re pretty sure only you and Vriska would ever understand or enjoy, but it’s fun, and it takes your mind off of what happened with Karkat. It also helps that Gamzee comes by eventually, leaving half an hour after that accompanied by a much happier looking Karkat. Okay, maybe happy isn’t the right word – let’s just say a ‘normal looking’ Karkat, as in only a regular level of resentment for everything. You’re not going to lie, Gamzee isn’t your favourite Troll in the world, and sometimes you’re worried that he’s having a bad influence on Karkat and Tavros with all of his bad habits, but if he makes them happy then that’s all that matters you guess. People probably say the same about you and Vriska anyway, but you wouldn’t trade her for the world. Well, most of the time anyway; she can be a right pain in the ass if she wants to be.

Eridan however, is another story. He hasn’t done anything to prove that he’s a decent friend – let alone quadrantmate – besides not murdering Karkat for having off-spectrum blood and lying to him about it, which you were honestly surprised about when Karkat told you, considering Ampora's track record. Normally the violet-blood wouldn’t even cross your mind when you’re thinking about quadrants, excluding that one perigee he tried and failed to make you his auspistice, but when Karkat comes back smelling of the sea and expensive perfume, you can’t help but doubt that he went to the palace to see Feferi. You know he’s needed to talk to Eridan about something though, so when he slumps into the chair with a relaxed expression and flicks on the TV to one of his favourite romcom channels, you decide that you don’t mind if their ‘talk’ ended up with them putting their scents all over each other. At least, not much.

Chapter Text

==> Karkat, talk to Eridan

“Okay, so this is probably going to be one of the most awkward things either of us has ever done, or ever will do, but God dammit it needs to happen if we’re going to sort out the number one most embarrassing fucking thing that has ever become a part of the ongoing tale of misfortune that is my sorry excuse for a life.” This is how you greet your sea-dwelling companion after he opens the door to his academy quarters.

He looks understandably surprised to see you, but then he gives a slight wave over your shoulder and you’re guessing that he’s noticed Gamzee, aka the person who brought you over and got you inside.

Yes, Eridan, because people other than you can in fact use their status to get shit done around here and help their friends.

Eridan holds the door open for a few moments, then realises that Gamzee isn’t coming inside and closes it.

“Oh hi Kar just invvite yourself in wwhy don’t you,” He says, with his pompous sarcasm and hands resting over his off-centre hips as he stands in front of you with a pose that can only be described as ‘bitchy’, “not like I wwas plannin’ to do anythin’, not like I’vve got a life or lessons to go to–”

“Oh shut up.” You tell him, and even if this thing doesn’t get sorted, the trip was worth it to see the baffled look that crosses his face.

He’s so cute when he gets knocked off of his high skyhorse like that. Wait, no, he’s not, he’s never cute. He’s just your friend, your stuck-up sea-dwelling asshole of a friend.

“I came here to have a serious fucking discussion.” You continue when he can’t seem to speak.

“Are you referrin’ to the thing wwe agreed that wwe wwouldn’t talk about?”

“Yes, and I give you permission to talk about it between us right now in this moment, because so help me we are going to talk about it weather you like it or not.”

You can feel those two hours of shitty sleep creeping up on you again, curling around your bottled up emotions and threatening to pop the cork. You felt better after talking with Terezi, of course it inevitably added to your worry because now you know she’s having dayterrors too, but it was nice to just let it out to someone who isn’t Gamzee. He may be a pitiable dope and you wouldn’t break off your Moirallegence for anything, but his answer to everything is usually some mystic bullshit that makes it feel as if he was barely listening to you.

“Okay,” Eridan says slowly, sinking into a nearby chair, “so uh, wwhere do you wwanna start?”

You sit down opposite him, taking the time to edge yourself closer to the table just to postpone the talking, because you don’t actually know where you want to start.

“I don’t want to go through the whole awful debacle or anything like that,” You say, “I just want to get some shit straight in my pan and make sure that we’re on the same page, because things have the potential to run batshit up the fucking belfry screaming like banshees if we don’t.”

“Okay, go ahead.”

He looks so nervous, so helpless, and you hate it because it makes him pitiful, and he can’t be pitiful because then you’ll remember how you feel about him and forget that he’s a nightmare of a Moirail. But he goes and does it anyway, and it takes all of your strength not to throw your arms around him and say “it’s okay”, because none of this is okay. You shouldn’t even be having this conversation.

You take a deep breath, “First off, I don’t remember if I ever said sorry, so yeah I’m sorry.”

He nods. Shit, you totally didn’t say sorry did you?

“Secondly, we stepped into pretty much every shade of red that night, and I know we agreed that we’re still friends, but I just want to know how you feel about it, to make sure I’m not being a complete nooksniffer and ignoring some sort of fucking miscommunication or something.”

Yeah, you really should have spent more time thinking about what to say here.

“Wwell I,” Eridan begins, doing more nervous things like pulling on his sleeves and looking at the floor, “I like you Kar, alwways have, you knoww that.”

You have to close your eyes and take a moment because that’s not the answer you were fucking looking for, “Yes and I like you too, but ‘like’ isn’t the same as ‘want to be quadranted with’, Eridan, and I know you have a pretty poor grip of the difference between pale and flushed, but we’ve accidentally done both and you can’t just sweep that under the metaphorical floor covering of ‘liking’ each other.”

He sighs, almost looking frustrated, “I’vve told you before that I’vve been thinkin’ about havvin you as a ‘rail pretty much since we met, but you’vve got Gam an’ I fucked things up with Fef so badly that I don’t evven knoww if I wwant another Moirail, so evven though evveryone seems to think I’m some desperate quadrant-wwrecker, I’m not gonna go there, okay?”

He doesn’t want a Moirail?

“What the fuck are you talking about? Of course you need a Moirail, you’re a walking disaster!”

He frowns, his mouth turned down until it draws lines on his face, and nose scrunched up to make more between there and his furrowed brows. You totally shouldn’t have said that, or at least rephrased it or something.

“Wwell sorry I’m such a fuckin’ pain in the arse,” He bites out, “maybe you should go an’ spend time wwith your precious diamond instead a wwaistin’ your time wwith a disaster like me.”

You flinch at the venom in his voice, a tiny growl slipping out when you try to talk, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then howw did you mean it, Kar?”

Oh God this is going even worse than you anticipated, not only is it painfully awkward, he also probably hates you now.

“I meant that you’re a Highblood and you need someone to fill that quadrant for you, just like Gamzee and Vriska and Equius, it’s in your fucking blood, literally.”

“An’ you’re a mutant, doesn’t mean I go around sayin’ you should be fuckin’ culled like your blood dictates.”

You swallow thickly and compose yourself, because you are so close to fucking crying again whilst you pound that sea-dwellers sorry face into the floor. You’re so shit with words, even though you tend to have a lot of them according to most people. That’s why you just default to paps, you can’t help it. You’ve seen your ‘alternate selves’ in the dream bubbles – the ones you see when you’re not wracked with dayterrors – and nine times out of ten they have a Moirail if nothing else. Sometimes more than one, usually because you couldn’t decide between all of the pitiful assholes you call friends, so you just didn’t choose. And out of those nine times, you spend most of them acting as Eridan’s Moirail regardless. You’re a pale whore, a diamond slut, and all those other names they have for people who collect Moirails like fucking bottle caps. And you don’t even care enough to stop yourself from reaching out to grab Eridan’s hand across the table.

“I’m sorry.”

His expression softens, fins drooping, “For wwhat?”

You get up to stand in front of him, but before you can say tell him that you’re sorry for just about fucking everything, you’re practically blubbing like a wiggler and Eridan’s whispering apologies as he cradles you on his lap.

“I’m sorry Kar, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean t’ say that, any of it, I wwas just bein’ stupid, please don’t cry, I’m sorry.”

Of course it would be Eridan that finally broke you down, with his stupid droopy fins and stupid wavy accent that might just be a speech impediment, and stupid, stupid way of fucking everything up and still not being able to make you hate him. You breathe him in as he nuzzles your hair, and you hate to admit it because your actual Moirail is in the parking lot outside, but it makes you feel safe, wrapped up in the strong cold of a Troll who’s anything but stable, yet somehow gives you this comfort that you only ever feel with Gamzee. Who is admittedly also not stable. Maybe you’ve got a thing for Trolls like that? A pale kink for insanity. You laugh out loud at the thought of a phrase you’ve only ever heard in trashy romance stories. Pale kinks. You laugh again and Eridan probably thinks you’re the crazy one. Maybe you are. You guess all Trolls are mad in some convoluted way.

“Are wwe still friends?” Eridan asks when you go quiet.

You lift your face off of his shoulder – thank god he’s wearing black – and nod, “Of course we are.”

He smiles, pulling a few strands of hair off of your wet face, “Careful Kar, that didn’t sound nearly sarcastic enough.”

You roll your eyes and smack him lightly on the arm, repeating your heartfelt answer with a far more cynical tone.

“That’s better.” He says, and you think he actually means it.

Yep, you’re definitely all crazy. Pure lunacy is the sole reason your pusher skips when you see him smile. Absolutely. No pale feelings whatsoever.

Unless… It’s not supposed to feel pale? Oh God you’re such an idiot. But even as you realise what’s happening you can’t make your pan form the words. You’re lucky to have a Moirail, your ‘situation’ doesn’t allow for anything else. You push back everything to do with those thoughts and lock them away. Eridan’s happy being friends, you’re happy being friends, it’s fine.

Everything’s fine.

Chapter Text

==> Equius, meet with the Highb100ds

You are now Equius Zahhak, and you practically jump away from the wall you were leaning on as a familiar voice drifts down the hall, followed by the easily-recognisable face of said voice’s owner as he strolls around the corner. Or perhaps it is less recognisable, as the face paint that is usually applied with religious adherence to a certain pattern – this seems the only thing Makara is capable of maintaining in terms of his outward appearances – looks as if it was put on with slapdash haste by a Troll with less than perfect vision. The same can be said of the Troll wandering next to him, although you have never seen this young man before so you cannot make such a judgement accurately. Not that you should be judging a Highblood, even if this stranger’s blood does seem to be vaguely closer to your own hue whilst still retaining a purple overtone.

“Good evening Highbloods.” You say, trying not to stare at the way the lesser purple’s horns curve inwards to the point where they almost touch, or how he has symmetrical piercings peppering his ears and face.

“Hey,” Gamzee replies, then he pauses, seeming dazed in the silence before continuing, “oh uh this is Taamzu,” he gestures to his companion, “Tambro this is Equius.”

Taamzu gives you an unnervingly wide smile, showing the way his upper and lower canines curve at the same alarming angle as his horns, “Hello Equiuss, Gamszee hass told me much about you.”

He hisses on his pronunciation of ‘s’ and ‘z’ sounds, but not enough to constitute a lisp like that filthblood and his constant butchering of the Alternian language. You would liken it to a hissbeast; predatory and unsettling. Just the way someone of his status should be.

You nod, “Greetings, I am sorry to say that I had not heard of you before this meeting.”

He chuckles, tilting his head sharply to the side like an inquisitive scalebeast, “That doess not ssurprisse me, I rarely do anything of note.”

“Nah man don’t say shit like that,” Gamzee nudges his shoulder, “you’re like the best fuckin’ chucklevoodoodler we got.”

“That maybe sso, but I would sstill have no chansse againsst the Oversseer.”

“True that bro, she is one wicked scary motherfucker.”

“Indeed.” Phrasing aside, you cannot help but agree – Overseer Mianak is possibly one of the most terrifying women you have ever met, and considering your current acquaintances, that is quite the statement.

“Hmm, sspeak of the angel.” Taamzu mutters, turning his serpent-like gaze on the Overseer as she approaches.

“Good evening,” She says sharply, “please, follow me.”

The three of you walk behind her in silence, letting her lead you to her office and usher you into the seats opposite her desk. She perches herself on the chair behind it, dragging her gaze over each of you before she speaks.

“Now, I believe the three of you are here to discuss your living arrangements, correct?”

“Yess Ma’am,” Taamzu is the first to reply, sitting up straight with his legs crossed and hands folded neatly in his lap, “I have been trying for ssome time now to attain a moving permit for my Ausspisstisse, however no matter the ssitcumsstanssess my applicationss are alwayss denied, and I wissh to know why.”

As if his forward manner of speech had not been enough, he stares at the Overseer so intensely as he waits for an answer, eyes narrowed in a way completely unbefitting of their – albeit minimal – class disparity.

The Overseer nods slowly, “I see, do either of you have anything to add about your current situations?”

You look at Gamzee, but he is too busy staring at the ceiling to pay attention. Usually you would wait for the higher blood to have the first say, however your acquaintance seems unwilling to take his chance, so you must step in to save him from the embarrassment that he may bring upon himself by not speaking. It’s only natural.

You clear your throat, “I am experiencing a similar challenge with my Moirail, at first I suspected that it was due to my apparent Kismesis already being present on the premises, however even after explaining that she is simply a machine programmed to act like a Troll,” you’re surprised by how much that hurts to say, and not just because you’re lying to your superior, “I was still rejected in my application and given no reason why.”

“Yeah,” Gamzee says finally, “Same problem with Tav – uh my Matesprit – and I don’t even live with any other motherfuckers or nothin’ so I don’t get it.”

“I too currently live alone.” Taamzu adds.

Again, the Overseer’s response is a calm nod as she rests her chin on her hands, “Yes, I can see why you would find these circumstances frustrating.” Then she sits back and sighs, “However at present there is nothing I can do to correct the troubles you have encountered.”

You hear a low hiss from your right, the light flashing on Taamzu’s mess of fangs as his lip curls back, “I do not undersstand, you are the Academy Oversseer, ssurely you have a ssay on who iss allowed to make usse of the boarding fassilitiess?”

Rather than reprimanding him, the Overseer laughs, “You would think so, but unfortunately that is not the case, you see I only manage the Academies themselves; classes, students, and such. What our charges do after they leave their classrooms is none of my concern, or rather, I am not allowed to be concerned by it.”

“Then who iss?” It’s unbelievable how little regard this Troll has for the common manners of his society.

“It is not within my position to give you any more information.”

Her brows knit together as she answers, and you feel the tendrils of her mind squeezing your pan tight. Gamzee seems unaffected, but in the corner of your vision you can see Taamzu’s eyes clamped shut.

“Are we clear, Naeder?” She’s speaking just to Taamzu now, her face blank as she forces his to contort with a pain that you feel only the peripherals of.

He nods with a hiss, which the Overseer thankfully takes as an acceptable answer and withdraws herself from your minds.

“If you have any further complaints, I suggest you send them to Director Leerst,” She says, “I cannot guarantee that she will listen, but I can mention your names to her to ensure that your cases are payed due attention. Now, if you’ll excuse me I have work to do.”

She stands up and opens the door, which you all take as a cue to leave.

“That did not go ass I ecksspected,” Taamzu mutters as you head to your next class, which neither of the Highbloods should be following you to, but you don’t think it would be best to remind them of this, “I do not undersstand why sshe gave uss sso little information, how difficult would it have been to ssimply offer uss a more direct plasse in which to voisse our fuckin’ opinionss, rather than dissregarding them ass if we are nothing but sspoiled wigglerss caussing a fussss?”

You wince, half from his lewd expression, but also because you can now feel just how much his Chucklevoodoos rival the Overseer’s, even when he is not aiming them at anyone in particular.

“Taamz.” Gamzee says, moving to put his hand on Taamzu’s shoulder.

The shorter Troll spins around, and for a few tense moments they just stare at each other. The air becomes thick and oppressive with their competing mental abilities, and you contemplate slipping away unnoticed before you get stuck in the middle of a subjuggilation duel.

Then Taamzu backs away, “I am going to ssee Felina.”

The atmosphere diffuses and Gamzee lets him past, coming to stand next to you as you watch him leave the building in a brisk walk.

“He’s just all uptight about this Auspistice stuff,” Gamzee says, “best to let her deal with the motherfucker.”

It takes you a couple of seconds to realise where you’ve heard the name Taamzu mentioned before, “His Auspistice, Felina, she is of the olive caste, correct?”

Gamzee nods, decaptchaloguing a packet of ominously green shapes and popping one into his mouth, “Ye-hehe-ah man, she is the fuckin’ shit with a crossbow.” He laughs, and eats another one of those… Things.

You can’t help but cringe – they cannot be safe for Troll consumption. But Makara’s toxic habits aside, Nepeta has been gallivanting around with a Troll who has such a, a dangerous, quadrantmate for goodness knows how long, and yet you, her Moirail, had no idea whatsoever. But then, if you said anything, you would be undermining someone of a higher caste than yourself, so you keep quiet. There will be plenty of time for reminding Nepeta to be aware of her own safety once you secure a place for her in your quarters.

You bid farewell to Gamzee, who seems to have nothing to do this afternoon – hopefully he is not skipping out on his classes and bringing yet more disgrace to his caste – and return to your instruction block. Perhaps you should consult with Aradia on the subject of your application, see if she can perhaps ‘acquire’ some information on the Director that may help. Gosh it feels awful to think of going behind a Highblood’s back like that, but Director Leerst is a sea-dweller after all. And it’s not as if you will be telling Aradia to look specifically, you will just inform her of the situation and let her make her own decisions. Yes, any helpful information that she gives you will be entirely her doing, and you will simply be benefiting from her resourcefulness.

***

==> Karkat, receive final warning

You stare at the letter in your hands, the words printed out in the same callous black as always. It’s from someone named Director Leerst, rather than Overseer Mianak who usually signs things like this, and is politely informing you that you have until the end of the sweep – aka two nights – to decide if you want to stay on campus or not. Most Trolls have already moved in or given up their place by now, and you would have too – you loathe the idea of living with strangers. But you know Terezi has applied to her academy’s accommodation, so you’re waiting for them to reply to see if you need to put yourself through that or not. Like, what if Tavros and Nepeta end up with nowhere to go? They can’t afford to stay in this place on their own. Or what if you apply and get through, but Terezi doesn’t? Then you’d have wasted your time, and will probably be culled for messing the Director around when you try to reject your acceptance.

“Dude you’ve been staring at that paper for like an hour.”

The bench moves as Dave – Davryn, shit – plops down next to you.

“You’ve been watching me for an hour? Talk about fucking creepy Dave.” You mean – ah fuck it, everyone calls him Dave, you might as well join in.

“No, but you were in this exact position when I left an hour ago.”

You tear your eyes off of the page and raise an eyebrow at him, “You were here before now?”

He puts a hand over his pusher, “You wound me.”

You scoff and roll your eyes. You doubt anyone could emotionally wound someone like him, if he has any feelings to actually hurt that is.

“So, are you gonna apply?” He asks, pulling out his palmhusk.

You sigh, “I don’t know, there’s too many fucking variables to think about.”

“You mean TZ and the others?”

You nod, even if your teeth grind at the thought of letting Dave know he’s right. He doesn’t comment on your reply though, instead just tapping away on his palmhusk. You captchalogue the letter and stretch. Wow your back is really stiff.

“So um,” You begin somewhat awkwardly, wishing you hadn’t opened your mouth as soon as the words come out, “have you applied?”

It’s only natural to ask right? Not like you’re going to copy him or anything because he’s just as much of a mutant as you are.

“Nah, I’m moving in with John.”

John? Who the fuck is John? He says it as if you should know. Should you know? It seems kind of familiar, you think maybe Terezi mentioned someone who’s name begins with a J? Or was it Tavros? God you’re the worst friend ever.

“Oh,” You reply oh so fucking eloquently, “that’s um, good then.”

“Yeah,” Dave continues, apparently unaware of how socially inept you feel right now, “he was going to move in with the other Japesterators, but apparently a lot of Highbloods have been having some serious problems getting permits for their quadrantmates to stay with them so we said fuck it, why not just live together in his apartment?”

“Quadrantmate?” You blurt out before you have a chance to catch yourself. Shit, now it’s going to seem like you actually care who Dave’s quadrants are.

He nods, “We’re Moirails, have been since we were four.”

Another question pops into your pan, but you manage to contain it for a few seconds this time, “Does he know about…?”

He finally looks up from his palmhusk – or moves his head to face you anyway, you can’t see his eyes behind those glasses. You kind of want to again though. God that’s fucked up. Now you understand why Eridan still stares when you don’t wear your contacts.

“Of course, you don’t keep secrets from your ‘rail.”

Okay, that might have caused you actual physical pain. You don’t keep secrets from your ‘rail. That’s what the schoolfeedings teach you, the movies, and the novels, and the unwritten bro code. You know that, and you used to preach it to your stupid friends all the time, yet here you are with secrets burning up your insides like acid, and even though you have a perfectly good Moirail to relieve you of them, you haven’t told him. He knows about your blood, about the dayterrors, about what Feferi told you, even everything happened with Eridan. What he doesn’t know, is that you’ve got pale crushes on like four other people – and maybe one not-so-pale one – and that all of the aforementioned secrets are stressing you up to the oculars, to the point where you’re tempted to just let the Empire have you. But you won’t, because that would be weak and selfish, and above all fucking stupid.

Kanaya would always say that you were spreading yourself too thin without any stabilizers; trying to help other people but keep yourself distanced enough that you never get past being ‘friends’. It’s not that you don’t want quadrants, you just can’t have them, it wouldn’t be fair. Even now, Gamzee is going through so much shit trying to get a permit for Tavros, whilst also dealing with the fact that you might get culled any night at any minute. He won’t show it though, won’t tell you he’s worried or be anything other than blissfully happy, until you feel his Chucklevoodoos acting up on their own and have to step in and pap him down. You guess you’re both subpar Moirails in that respect. It’s just how he is though, how you are too, and it’s what made you go pale for each other in the first place. Seriously, what even is your life?

“Hello, Alternia to Vantas, please respond.”

There’s a click and then Dave’s hand waving in front of your face. You growl and sit backwards, praying that you were staring over his shoulder.

“Jegus man you were seriously out of it; you didn’t even notice when I told you I was talking to Terezi.” Then he gives you a slight frown, “You okay dude?”

“Yes,” You snap, “I’m fine.”

He eyes you for a few seconds longer, then turns back to his conversation with Terezi. Okay, now you can feel the anger, seeing all those lines of red and teal reflected in his glasses – he still types in that fucking putrid colour too. You know Terezi is flush for him, from the way she always giggles at even the shittiest of his jokes and trusted him so quickly after meeting him. He’d better not mess her around, or you’re going to be practicing your flaying techniques on his pasty ass. Or y’know his back, or chest, or any other part of him really. Why does he always make you think about asses, just because of that one stupid conversation you had? At least you burned that dumb IOU.

Then you see Dave’s arm shoot up beside you, and hear a disappointed “aww” from behind.

“Dave you’re such a spoilsport!”

You look over your shoulder and see a tall blue-blood with a rather large hammer poised above Dave’s head. It’s the wrong way up though; with the flat part facing upwards and this stupid bobble-hat-looking thing hanging down underneath. It’s also unbelievably colourful; it almost hurts your eyes to look at such a magnificently decorated and oddly shaped weapon.

“Look, my friend here is fragile, don’t want you scaring the literal shit out of him with whatever the fuck this is.” Dave taps the bobble, making it swing back and forth.

Friend. Sure, right.

The blue-blood pouts, “It’s the Warhammer of Zillyhoo! I just got it tonight, isn’t it cool?”

He then grins and jumps over the back of the bench, slotting himself between you and Dave. You’re pretty sure he would have ended up on your lap if you hadn’t moved earlier. What a fucking moron; you hate this guy already.

Dave twists the hammer around in the Troll's hands to admire it, evidently deeming it satisfactory with one of his vaguely impressed nods. “Not bad Egbert, is this your ancestor’s one that you were talking about?”

“Yup! I finally found it shoved down the back of an old pipe organ in the abandoned theatre.”

Dave laughs, “Sounds like a pretty shitty place to hide a legendary weapon.”

Legendary weapon? You were close to just noping out of this conversation and leaving them to it, but now you’re interested. Unless of course they’re just FLARPing dweebs like Eridan and Vriska, in which case you’ll happily leave them to their wigglerish adventures.

Egbert tilts his head and holds up the hammer, “Yeah, and what’s weirder is that it was some kind of eating utensil when I picked it up, but then I tried to equip it and it changed to this.” He shrugs and lowers the weapon’s head onto the floor, “Guess it makes sense though, since that was her strife specubus.”

“Oh like how Jade’s changed from the Flintlocks of Zillyhau to the Blunderbuss of Zillywigh?”

“Yeah, exactly like that,” He pauses, “why are you asking so specifically?”

“Oh just trying to fill in our friendly neighbourhood eavesdropper here, who’s clearly interested but doesn’t want to ask any questions.” Dave leans past him and looks at you with that infuriating blank-with-one-eyebrow-raised expression. “Isn’t that right Karkles?”

“Oh!” The blue turns around, “I’m so sorry I didn’t even see you there! My names Johann, but you can call me John.” He sticks out his hand and gives you a buck-toothed smile. “It’s nice to meet you Karkles.”

“My name is Karkat.” You growl, shaking his hand a little more forcefully than necessary, whilst glaring at Dave.

“Oh, uh sorry again I guess.” John turns back to Dave, “Dave, why did you tell me his name wrong?”

Dave shrugs, “I thought you were supposed to be the chief jokester around here?”

John shakes his head in a way that implies he’s used to dealing with Dave’s bullshit. Which he should be, you guess, seeing as they’ve been Moirails for… five sweeps you think Dave said?

“Hey you’ve got a Bladekind strife specubus too, right Karkat?” John asks suddenly, continuing without letting you give him an answer, “Have you shown him your Unbreakable Katana yet Dave?”

Dave stands up in silence, then decaptchalogues a huge sword. Wait… You’ve seen that black hilt before.

“Fuck you!” You jump up and point a finger at him, “That’s the sword you used in the challenge the other week, you only won because it was legendary! You fucking cheater!”

“It’s not cheating, even if I gave you this sword, you’d still be shit because you don’t know how to use it, it’s all about technique, and besides,” He continues, talking over the angry spluttering that manages to make it out of your mouth, “I fought a giant squawkbeast for this thing on top of a Goddamn mountain when I was five sweeps old, it wasn’t just some lazy-ass hand-me-down.”

You can almost feel the steam coming out of your auricular canals right now, and you’re just about to channel it into a scorching verbal burn, when Egbert decides to get in your way.

“Alrighty then!” He says, putting himself between the two of you, “Why don’t we talk about something else?”

“How did you even get in here anyway?” You ask, if only to ignore Dave captchaloguing his – stupid shitty cheater – sword, “Shouldn’t you be at the Hammerkind Academy?”

You’re guessing that’s a thing, you have no idea where it would actually be though because none of your friends use blunt instrument weaponry. Except Gamzee, but he’s a subjuggilator so that’s different.

“Moirail pass,” he says with a grin, pulling out a small card, “also I’m a blue-blood, but I don’t like just barging in places using my status.”

Oh how very humble of you Egbert, want a fucking prize or something?

“Have you found your legendary weapon yet?” He asks, putting the card away.

You wait a moment, before realising that he’s talking to you.

“Mine?” You frown – well, frown more anyway, “What do you mean mine?”

“Well, your ancestor must have had a legendary weapon, or they wouldn’t be an ancestor.”

“Wha- John, no, that’s stupid, ancestors don’t work that way.”

He chuckles, “Of course they do, why do you think we only count them and not the other Trolls in our lineage? It’s because they were special enough to have one of these.” He says, brandishing that fucking huge hammer at you.

You take a step back and out of its range, “No, it’s because we share our most of our genetic makeup with them, it’s just a coincidence that they had legendary weapons,” You sigh, “but idiocy aside, if your theory is true, then why is our generation finding them and not the ones before?”

Obviously Feferi only got her 2x3dent because there were literally no other Fuchsias to give it to, and Eridan and Vriska’s legendary weapons were hidden, it’s pure luck that they found them at the right time when they were ripe to receive a new wielder. Right?

John shrugs, “Not sure, my friend said it had something to do with us hatching in the same brood as the Heiress, but even she doesn’t really know, and she knows everything.”

She knows everything huh? You haven’t even met this girl and you already don’t want to. Hang on. Does that mean your ancestor actually had a legendary weapon? One that you could find and use? Wait, what weapons did your ancestor even have? He was a pacifist, surely he didn’t specify in anything combat-wise. Well, except talking people to death by the sounds of it.

“She didn’t know that my ancestor was Exterminator Shadowblade.” Dave says.

God he sounds so fucking smug about it, just because his ancestor had a cool title and was probably some bigshot rust-blood. You’ve never heard of him though so he can’t have been that great, and he obviously didn’t get culled for being a mutant – you’re assuming Dave shares his mutation with him like you share yours with Kankri – otherwise it would have been another big scandal like The Signless. Or maybe his just blew up because of the whole cult thing? Heh, if only his loyal followers knew what he’d gotten up to when he was away at sea being a ‘captive’. Actually, you know they persist now, if only in small groups - you wonder if any of them know about that little sea-dweller?

You’d zoned out of Dave and John’s conversation about this smart-aleck friend of theirs, but when you see John giving Dave a pap on the forehead, you decide you should get out of the zone physically too.

“Well, this was fascinating, but I’m going to leave now.” You say, already walking backwards before they can begin to protest.

Thankfully though, they don’t. John waves you goodbye, and Dave says something about you guys having a duel once you find your legendary weapon. You shake your head and turn around to keep walking. Maybe you should do some research on these legendary weapons? It’d be pretty handy to have yours before Feferi’s whole conquer the Empire plan. Which you are going to be the vice-leader of. Fuck. Yeah, you really need that weapon.

Chapter Text

==> Sollux, duel

“I thould have killed you on lobaf when I had the chanthe,” You growl, pulling yourself out of the horn pile to stare that royal asshole down, “oh well, gueth it’th only fitting that I’d take you down in round two.” Your psionics crackle, sparking red and blue into the air and mixing with the glow from that stupid fucking science wand, “You ready, printhe?”

“Bring it mage.” Eridan hisses, throwing off that ridiculous cape of his with what was probably supposed to be a dramatic flourish.

You charge up a psionic bolt, sending it out as a blinking ball of red and blue. You’re expecting to see it send Eridan cascading into the wall, but instead there’s a white flash and a loud crack, and when the dust settles that fishfuck is still standing. His wand is smoking, and after a second he smirks. How? How the fuck can that jumped up toy be level with your psychic abilities honed over sweeps?

“Stop it right now!” Feferi shouts from somewhere.

You see her trident waving in the corner of your vision. Shit, you can’t let her get hurt. Your feet lift off the ground until you’re hovering above her. She shouts again but you ignore it, and push your glasses back up onto your head. This one is for keeps. Then you see Eridan floating opposite you, surrounded by a white, angelic aura entirely too befitting of his destructive nature. You channel every bit of spare power you have, storing it up until your oculars are burning and you can barely see. You’re almost knocked back yourself when you finally release it, your vision nothing but red and blue and purple and white, all fighting for space in front of your eyes. You hear a dim crash, barely reaching you over the ringing and buzzing inside your ears. Then suddenly it’s not your own energy you feel. The world goes hot white and it’s like lightning inside your skull. You feel your spine crack against something hard, forcing air out of your lungs in a wet cough. Everything’s black, spinning. There’s shouting as you hit the floor, then a scream – Feferi!

Your body jolts, limbs flailing to find purchase on something solid. Your chest feels as if it’s trying to invert itself, and when you open your eyes all you see is sparks and static. You grip whatever’s under your hands, psionics arching across your body as slime drips off of you back into the ‘coon. Right. You were asleep. You inhale and your vision clears somewhat. Holy shit. It’s been a while since you’ve had one of those. Regular dayterrors you can deal with, but that was something else. You blink away most of the fuzziness, dragging your eyes over the high interior walls of your recuperacoon. Your chest rattles with each breath. You think you might have taken in some sopor. You cough into your shaking hand, and sure enough you get a few wads of slime for your troubles. Eww, gross.

When your limbs feel steady enough to assess the damage, you sit up on your knees and poke your head over the rim of the ‘cupe. Okay well… It’s not as bad as usual. Your desk is a shambles – or more of one anyway – and there’s half of a shelf now on the floor, as well as a couple of broken glasses and an upturned waste receptacle. But other than that, your block is mostly intact. Wow, the new recuperacoon actually works; you’ll have to thank Jade next time you see her. You’d tried to do something like this in your old hive, but you just ended up with a weird two-holed slumber vessel where you had to choose which side – and therefore which slime – you wanted to sleep in. God this one works so much better than that old heap of shit.

“Sollux?” There’s a light tap at the door, and a few seconds later it opens.

Feferi pokes her head around, frowning at what she sees. Her hair is an utter disaster, curls sticking out at every angle imaginable like a mess of horrorterror tentacles sprouting from her head. Her daygown is hanging off of one shoulder slightly, letting you see the beautiful pattern of freckles that’s usually hidden by layers of fabric. You smile, because it means she ran all the way over without a second thought. And also because you happen to like the dishevelled look on your Matesprit. When her eyes find you, she scrunches her bare toes against the floor, pulling her sleeves down over her hands. She doesn’t look like an Heiress like this.

“Hey FF.” You croak, clearing your throat as you pull yourself up properly to lean on the rim.

She walks forwards and puts her arms around you, not a single care about how her clothes are getting stained with red and blue sopor, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” You hug her back, taking a deep sniff of her hair, of the natural bubble-gum scent that’s always covered by perfume, “jutht a dayterror.”

She sighs, “I’m sorry.”

You squeeze her tighter, feeling reassured by every glacial curve and angle against your skin, “Don’t be, and thith coon Jade dethigned helped me not dethtroy the whole block when I flipped my shit, tho I gueth that’th a pothitive.” You’re almost embarrassed to admit what could have happened.

“It was that bad?” Feferi asks after a pause.

You shrug. She doesn’t need to know how bad it was. She’s got enough to worry about with this party she’s trying to organize in just two nights. You do love your Matesprit, but sometimes her ideas are a little.... Outlandish. Like when she wanted to fill one of the underwater blocks in the palace with cuttlefish, or open up the gardens as a wildlife reserve. Nice ideas, but not really doable, even for the Heir. Actually, you’re genuinely surprised they’re letting her go along with the party idea. It almost makes you worried, but nothing bad has happened in the perigees you’ve been living here, so you put it down to paranoia and just enjoy the way you can feel Feferi smiling against your cheek.

“Think there’s room for one more?”

You sit back and raise an eyebrow to counter her grin. She rolls her eyes with a giggle.

“I’m asking if I can get in with you, silly Solfish!” She ruffles your hair, leaving her delicate fingers around your right horns afterwards.

You want to smile, but you find yourself frowning instead, “What if I hurt you?”

You’d love to share a recuperacoon with her – of course you would – but you just can’t trust yourself.

She waves a hand, “I’ll be fine! I know you’d never hurt me.”

Before you can protest, she strips out of her daygown and climbs up onto the edge of the ‘coon. You’re sure that the guards won’t be too happy with you in the morning, but you can’t help yourself from smiling as she slips down into the slime alongside you. She’s here, and safe, and she wants to be with you. That’s all that matters.

“Mmm, it’s so warm!” She trills, tucking herself up against your body when you recline. “Good day Honey.”

Heh, you love that nickname. It’s tough to believe that Feferi’s yours sometimes – or you’re hers, which is probably how the Empire sees it. She’s so out of your league that you’re not even in the same competition anymore. But when she lets out a chilled sigh across your neck, each brush of her velvety skin against yours sending a buzz that flushes your cheeks, you remember. She chose you. She could have anyone she wanted, but she picked you, the scrawny, psionic hermit who knows more about how to program emotions than what to do with them in real life.

You kiss her forehead, your purrs blending together as the sedative effects of the slime drag you under, “G’day FF.”

***

==> Sollux, wait for KK, again

You check your watch for the twentieth time, tapping your foot as you stare at the gates and just will Karkat to turn up. You know he’s been busy lately, dealing with his training and his own personal shit that you don’t ask about anymore because it just ends up as a screaming match, and all you get from it is a headache and a sore throat. But come on, if you can have a dayterror and still be ready on time, then he can at least have the decency to warn you when he’s not going to be, especially when it was at his request in the first place.

“Oh fucking finally.” You mutter as Gamzee’s scuttlebuggy pulls up outside the gates.

Karkat practically falls out of the door, yawning as he waves goodbye and plods over to the gates. Wow, he looks like shit. You tell the guards to let him pass, being sure to smirk at the dirty looks they give you. You’re not one to invest much in the Haemospectrum, but damn do you love having power over a bunch of stuck up blue-bloods. Karkat doesn’t even spare them a glance, probably still worrying about getting caught if they see any red.

“Did you thleep in or thomething? You look awful.” Hey, if his best friend doesn’t tell him, who will? Probably Terezi, actually.

He snorts weakly, “No, unless not sleeping at all and then nodding off against a cupboard door in the evening counts as ‘sleeping in’.”

“You fell athleep on a door?”

He waves a hand, using the other to rub his eyes, “Don’t even, it’s so fucking stupid.”

Well now you’re curious, “C’mon KK,” You nudge his arm, “I tell you all my idiotic bullshit, it’th not like you’ve got any thtandardth to uphold with me or anything.”

“Fine,” He huffs, looking around before continuing, “if you really want to know, I was washing the platters this evening and I closed my eyes for like two fucking seconds, then suddenly Terezi’s shaking me and I’m covered in water and the liquid cleaning receptacle is overflowing, and long story short I almost flooded our nutritionblock trying to be a decent blockmate. Are you happy now?”

You fail to hold in a chuckle, and the way Karkat glares at you just makes it worse – why are you one of those people who laughs when someone’s angry with you tonight? That’s possibly the worst trait to have around Karkat. Fortunately, he seems to drowsy to argue. He just shakes his head and walks a few paces ahead of you.

You’re not the most reliable sleeper, even with your new recuperacoon you barely get through more than an hour or so at a time without waking up, but Karkat’s been getting worse and worse lately. Terezi’s mentioned something about dayterrors, and you’d ask Karkat about it but you just know it would blow up in your face. Ugh, you really do not need a Vantas bitchfit right now, not when Feferi’s planning so much and you’re basically organising every Goddamn thing because nobody else can actually do anything around this shithole. Seriously, did the Empress purposefully make sure all of Feferi’s staff only have half a brain or something? It would be a pretty good plan, you’re not going to lie, but sadly you think it’s Troll society as a whole that’s moronic and you’re one of the exceptions who has more than two neurons firing at once.

“Ah, good evening Karkat.” Kanaya appears from the entrance to the gardens, the emerald of her dress almost lost against the tall hedges behind her.

She greets Karkat with a smile, getting a nod and a quick “hey” in return. To you, she gives a raised eyebrow that says ‘Sollux was this your fault?’ and you offer a shrug because he was already grouchy when he got here, so it obviously wasn’t anything to do with you… Probably. Kanaya eyes you for a second longer, then leads Karkat inside the palace. Usually, Feferi would have meetings with her friends outside, but the dark clouds looming overhead don’t look too friendly and with the string of bad weather recently, it was an easy decision to move the get-together inside. Hopefully things will clear up for the party tomorrow night, Feferi will be crushed if she can’t show everyone the gardens that Kanaya’s been working on. Oh and the small issue of everyone getting drenched on the way here of course – there will be no end of complaints from certain people you’re sure.

Once the guards are dismissed, you take your seat in the meeting room whilst Feferi subjects Karkat to her usual warm greeting and ‘how have you been?’ ‘how are the others?’ ‘how is training?’, until Kanaya reminds her that he actually wanted to say something.

“Oh right!” Feferi claps her hands together, then lets them rest in her lap, “Sorry about that Carpcatfish, what was it you wanted to talk about?”

“Okay, so this is probably going to sound totally idiotic and I may want to scoop my pan out with an eating utensil afterwards just for having such a stupid thought,” He begins, and you can already tell this is going to be good, “but I was talking to some… People, that I know, and they had these weapons that they said were legendary weapons from their Ancestors, like Eridan and Vriska and their dumb pirate shit, except instead of finding theirs accidentally these guys actually went looking for them, like they knew they were a thing that existed and when I asked about it, one of them said that everyone’s Ancestor had a legendary weapon for their descendant to find,” he talks as much with his hands as his mouth throughout, putting them up when he pauses to show that he’s not done, “now I know that sounds like something straight out of a wiggler’s coontime story and trust me, I thought that too, but what if they’re right? About the weapons existing at least, even if theirs do have fucking ridiculous names.” Whoever these guys are, it seems to be causing Karkat almost physical pain to admit that they might be right about something, “And if it is true, wouldn’t it be a good idea to nab ours now so we can use them in any future plans we make? Seeing as we already know who all of our Ancestors were through some sort of asinine fuckery that paradox space decided to treat us to.”

The girls just blink at him, and for once so do you. You’ve got no snappy comebacks or snarky comments. Nothing constructive to say either, which is why you’re glad when your Matesprit pipes up.

“You mean there are more Trolls who know of their ancestors?” She sits forwards in her chair and Karkat leans back like there’s a pole between them.

“Yeah,” He replies after a moment, “I mean, I thought it was a bunch of bullshit that nobody cared about, but these guys and their friends seem to have known about them for a while like us.”

“These people you’re speaking of,” Kanaya jumps in, putting a hand on Feferi’s arm to encourage her to sit back, “one of them wouldn’t happen to be named Rosali, would they?”

“No, but the name’s familiar, I think Eridan knows someone called that?” Karkat spares you a nervous glance, but when you shrug it turns to a glare.

Well what does he expect? How the fuck are you supposed to know who Ampora talks to or what these people are called? You barely leave the palace.

“What about Jaydel?”

“Well they mentioned someone named Jade, which I guess could be a nickname?” Karkat continues his trend of answering their questions with uncertain inquiries of his own.

“Great! I’ll go call her!” Feferi announces, springing up before her Moirail can react, “You should ask Rose to come too Kanaya!”

“Oh, um, yes, of course, I shall contact her right away.” The Jade blood excuses herself, bringing out her palmhusk as she leaves the room.

Feferi merely gives a message to the guard waiting outside, shooing them away after she’s done. At first, you wondered why Feferi would always ask Kanaya to deal with things concerning Rose; did she not like her? Did she feel threatened? Should you be worried? But then one night you saw Rose and Kanaya talking and well, let’s just say that Feferi should be an honorary member if Nepeta ever starts a matchmaking service. Nothing’s happened yet, but it’s obvious that they like each other, probably flushed judging by the way Kanaya gets so flustered before each meeting. Karkat would be proud of your romantic perception skills. If Kanaya hadn’t sworn you to secrecy about it that is. You don’t really get it, since everyone goes to Karkat with their problems and you actually think he likes giving people quadrant advice, but you’re not about to go making an enemy of your Matesprit’s Moirail, so you’ve kept quiet like she asked.

“Oh, I almost forgot to mention!” Feferi plops back at the table, fins fluttering in excitement, “Do you minnow who you’re bringing to the party yet?”

“Party?” His tone is equal parts confused and worried.

Okay, you know Karkat hasn’t been sleeping, but you told him there would be a party – or a party type thing, you guess – literally last night. Maybe you were so pessimistic about the whole thing that he thought it was some sort of overly-sarcastic joke?

Feferi tilts her head, “Solfish did tell you about it, right?”

You nod when she looks at you.

Karkat’s eyebrows disappear under his hair, “Oh shit, you guys were serious about that?”

You take off your glasses and rub your fingers over the dents they’ve left in your nose. It’s not really his fault, but the energy you had earlier is already beginning to wear thin, along with your patience.

Rather than exasperated, Feferi just seems to get more excited, “Of course! We will need to spend some time glubbing about things, but I used the party to cover for our little meeting so we might as well have a proper New Sweep’s celebration for the halibut, right?”

“Wait, New Sweep? That’s like tomorrow night! How am I supposed to get ready for a Goddamn party in less than twenty-four hours?” He looks practically terrified, his hands splayed on the table primed to let him jump up and run, “Who’s even going? Is everybody bringing a plus one? Am I going to be that loser who turns up alone and then spends the whole night sitting in the corner, wondering when my life took a detour down the lonely side of shit creek?”

You almost want to laugh – he’s overacting even more than usual – but that would probably just make things worse.

“You don’t have to bring anyone KK, it’th fine, it’th not even a real party.” You say.

You’ve got to show him at least a little support here, or you’re going to be hearing about it for weeks.

Feferi huffs, turning to you with that little pouty face that makes you want to squeeze her cheeks, “There’s going to be food and drinks and music and fronds having a good time together, that’s enough to be a reel party for me.”

You hold your hands up, “Okay, okay, it’th a reel party.” Feferi smiles at the emphasis you put on the pun, “But theriouthly KK, you can jutht come by yourthelf, it’th only going to be uth twelve and Jade, maybe Rothe and a couple of her friendth.”

“And you don’t have to get dressed up or anyfin either,” Feferi assures him, “I’ve put your uniforms as the dress code on the invites I’m going to send out – everyone knows aboat it already though, the invites are just a formality to get you all in.”

“Oh.” Wow, it’s been a while since you’ve seen Karkat speechless. You’re not sure if it’s the idea of a party or Feferi’s overwhelming amount of fish puns – she’s really on top form tonight.

Then suddenly he stands up, “Shit what time is it?”

You glance down at your watch, “Two-thirty.”

“Ah fuck,” He grabs a handful of his hair, “fuckfuckfuck I’m gonna be late.”

“Got a date?” You tease as he almost trips over his own feet pushing his chair in.

“No, asshat, I’ve got a class, not that you’d know what that’s like.” He glances at Feferi, but she’s just giggling in that bubbly way, so you get the full force of the Vantas glare.

You flip him the bird and smile, sticking your tongue out for good measure.

“Would you like someone to take you there?” Feferi asks, her voice still tinkling with laughter.

“No, no it’s fine, but um, thanks for the offer, and for having me and… Stuff.” You can see him pulling the ‘God that was stupid I’m so stupid fuck my life’ face as he turns away and hurries to the door.

“You’re welcome!” Feferi calls after him, “See you at the party!” She always sounds so excited whenever she mentions it – it’s so adorable.

Karkat gives her a quick wave, “Yeah, see you there.” He doesn’t sound quite as excited.

You get up and follow him; he won’t get through the gates without you, and you don’t need him throwing a hissyfit in front of the guards. He’s not even outside when you catch up though, just standing at the open door staring into a wall of rain.

“Holy shit.” You muse, thankful that you don’t need to set foot out of the palace doors.

Karkat on the other hand is the very picture of despair, looking as if he’s about to either cry or punch something. But you know Karkat, and even for all his shouting and theatrics, he rarely actually likes to make a fuss.

You watch him set his shoulders back and sigh, “Well, guess I won’t be getting to class on time.”

“Are you thure you don’t want a lift?”

“No, it’s fine, really, I’ll be… I’ll be fine.” He gives you a nod and an attempt at a smile, then pulls up his hood and sets off full pelt across the courtyard.

You flick the lock on the gates with your psionics, then close it after he dashes through. You swear he’s actually going insane from lack of sleep – you do know what that feels like, after all. Oh well, it’s only a little water.