Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

==> Be Unknown Troll

Today, not so long after his anniversary of his wriggling day, we settle on a young man on Alternia within his recuperation chamber.
Or… We would, if the viewscreen would find the right room- oh there he is, no need to change the room then, he was just in the troll bathroom.
This young troll, despite being a little over 6 sweeps old, doesn't seem to have a name! What is his name?
[GAYBOY_ASSFACE]

3 prongs spear through the ui and fling it away before disappearing back into his Strife specibus. Though, he does wobble a little afterwards before taking out a cane to steady himself.

In truth, this young man keeps his name secret from everybody, apparently even us, but he does go by…
[Ikouze]

You are Ikouze, you love singing and poetry and care far too much for your fellow trolls for your own good. To the point that if one of your friends hadn't stopped you, you probably would have made a dumb decision and attacked the one with spider eyes after one of her many violent decisions.
You still feel guilty about giving him that shiner just for trying to stop you.

Your face is quite soft and smooth for a troll. No blemishes, no scars, nothing. But you do have large eyes, which betray your current emotions constantly. Oh and a quartet of horns you're very proud of, quite long. But juuust short enough to not get in the way. Not often, at least.

Oh hey. Someone is pestering you on Trollian. Who could it be?
You sit down your his desk, looking at the screen… Oh great, one of your fellow grey-texters.

Welp, time to get ready to head out to that loud idiot’s hive. Hopefully that last line was just him teasing you again, she lives far enough away that it's hopefully the case.

==> Captchalogue mobile device.
As you capchalogue the device, you groan in frustration at the assigned timer to it- a full minute! Thats like half the maximum duration!

Your Modus is Stopwatch- you can access any slot in your capchalogue, but only one and only after its timer hits 0. You can pause any timer, but they get reset when you do.

When another timer hits 0 while any item already is, the item either resets its timer or is ejected if you for some reason forget to turn that setting off for whatever reason.

Worst part is, it goes by your time perception! If you zone out, it works slower! God, you were never good at time management, but this bleedin’ thing doesnt fucking help!

You sigh as you leave your hive, looking around for a moment before equipping your second strife specibus, your signature cane as you use it to walk easier.

You werent lying to Karkat earlier, you dont need it, but it helps. Always had stamina issues, no matter how hard you tried to overcome that, so this is your compromise to deal with it.

Of course, with how vicious troll society is, it paints a big target on your back, just like Karkat said. You have been attacked by those who support the culling of the weak most fervently before- certainly not often, but not never either.

And just like your lusus taught you, you keep your senses sharp just in case. And your senses are screaming that you’re not alone, despite the quiet, so you put it back into your strife specibus to quell any prying eyes. You can make most of the trek to Karkat’s hive without rest from here even if you rush- at least not until you’re inside. And while you can fight, you really don't want to- takes just one bad move and the reason behind your grey text is exposed, and your odds of culling go from possible to near certain.

Course, that’s why you have a defensive, flexible combat style. But its still preferable to not fight at all, even when you’re sure you’re being followed.
Your legs ache and your chest feels a little tight as you rap your fingers against the door of karkat’s place.

Time ticks on slowly, like a dull ache as you keep your head on a swivel. Paranoia, they’d call it on earth. Here? Probably just a healthy sense of self-awareness.

And the moment the door opens, you barge past Karkat and lean against one of the walls, taking slow, deep breaths, taught by your lusus while they were still around to keep your breathing steady and controlled.

Your head pounds as you steady your breath, barely registering the too-high-octave screaming (“talking”) of the troll next to you. You cant help but smile as you look at him, despite that, the pounding in your head and ears fading away as you finally steady your breathing, the panic from the idea of being followed finally fading.

“FUCK ME, IF I KNEW YOU WERE SO DESPERATE TO SEE ME I’D HAVE SET OUT SOME FUCKING CANDLES” he shouts, though his tone betrays at least a little concern
“Kar… sorry, im just… NOT in a… Not in a Kisemesis mood, man… Phew. Sorry, thought i was followed.” you respond quietly, eyes darting between Karkat and the door before you take your cane back out and stretch your back.
“YOU ALWAYS THINK YOU’RE FOLLOWED! BUT… UGH, GLAD YOU’RE ALRIGHT.” Karkat responds before you sigh, closing his eyes as you press your forehead against his.
You dont know how he considers this a kisemesis, but as long as he’s willing to call it that, so are you. “YOUR FOREHEAD IS GREASY AGAIN- ARE YOU WEARING THAT FUCKING MAKEUP AGAIN??”
“Yeah, always do, you know that…”
“STILL DONT UNDERSTAND WHY. YOU DONT LOOK ANY DIFFERENT, DO YOU? WAIT, DO YOU? IS THERE SOMETHING UP WITH YOUR HORNS? THEY DONT LOOK QUITE RIGHT…”
“Dont look any different far as i know…”

You and Karkat sigh as you wander to a seat and sit down. You rub your head a little and flinch when you look at your hand.

“Hey, uh, kar… Can you go get me a drink? Anything’ll do, im not… Quite in the clear yet.”
As karkat leaves, you quickly access your sylladex, and pull out a small makeup kit- quickly rubbing some skin-colour-grey on your forehead to hide… something. You put it back away, into the active slot, as Karkat comes back with a glass.
“SO, I ASKED YOU TO COME OVER FOR A REASON- HERE YOU GO BULGE-FOR-BRAINS.”
‘Thanks Kar… What’s the reason?’ you say before taking a gulp, letting out a sigh of relief at the cold liquid…
“WELL, TWO REASONS. FIRST ONE, ME AND THE GUYS ARE PLAYING SOME NEW GAME- WAS WONDERING IF YOU WERE INTERESTED. ITS CALLED SGRUB.”
“Dont see why not- long as my shitty pc doesnt die when i put it in.”
“AND THE SECOND REASON… I WANT TO KNOW SOMETHING.”
“And I want a hundred boonbucks... I'm kidding, ask away.”
“WHY DO YOU HIDE YOUR SECOND NAME?”

Chapter Text

==> Be the young troll

Today, roughly a 6th of a sweep after the anniversary of his 6th wriggling day, we greet a troll in his recuperation chamber!
Though we only see you from the side, seemingly taping something on your head before pulling up a hood. Most jagged surfaces have seemingly been filed down, dulled, throughout the chamber.

Despite being 6 and a 6th sweeps old, this troll has never been given a name! What is his name?

[Paranoid_idiot]

No, thats not right! What is your actual name?

[Gentle Apathy]

Thats right! You’re Gentle Apathy! You’re a quiet, kind troll with an enjoyment of whistles and playing games (not in person, way too physical for you!) with your friends!

Whats this? One of your friends is messaging you! Or… Wait, is it a memo?

These don't end without you screaming at some point in your experience...

And with that, you exit out of the memo, rubbing the bridge of your nose before you stand up. They know that ignoring you presses your buttons way too easy, so why do they always do it? They say you’re too quiet, too timid, easy to do so, when they apologise. But you guess that’s a consequence of your attempts to not have too many eyes on you.
You open your sylladex before humming a small tune, a bottle of Faygo appearing in your hand- you’re not keen on the flavour you were given, but Gamzee got you some, and you arent one to waste anything gifted to you so you’re gonna be drinking it until you run out.

Your Sylladex is Tune, meaning you have to hum, whistle, or do anything in general in the rough phonetic sound of the name of whatever you want to access. Much more convenient than any of the modi your friends use- that you’re aware of at least, ones’ Fetch Modus doesnt often appear in conversations.
You take a drink and groan, shaking your head at the taste. Flavour isn't usually something that turns you off a drink or food, it's more often the texture. Something about it just doesnt settle with you. But whatever, its acceptable enough to struggle through. You lean back and spin in your chair, looking up at the ceiling as you take another swig with a grimace, before standing up, wandering into the main room of your hive- and head straight outside, you need some air.
You lean against the wall of your hive as you nurse at your Faygo, watching trolls and time pass by as you just burn time away.. You yelp as suddenly a troll comes up to you, grabbing your shoulders as you try to squirm away, your Faygo dropping to the ground and rolling away- her face is plastered with the yellow crescent of Prospit, wildly painted on.
“Youuu, yez youuu, i zee greeeat change in youuuur eyez!”
“get off me-!”
“Zhhh- zhhh- Calm and lizten-”
“no! get off me you crazy-”
“In youuuur future, i zaw zoooo much! Zings i waz not meant to zeeeee! Meteorz raining on hiiiigh! Power beyond reckoning! And zoo much suffering- more zan a heart like yourz can take! But youuu will zee… be…”
The strange, maddened prospit dreamer collapses before you, and you panic and crouch down to assess their state- before they grab your collar and pull your head close, whispering weakly, burning through the last of their strength…
“Youu… Will zee great thingz… And on the other zide… Youu will… change… Everything… Go loooong, page… Go looong… zhed your life… upo…n… the ztaaarz…”
And with that, they fall limp- jade blood dribbling from their nose as they lie there. They must have saw something that they shouldn't have been able to understand but did- and went mad.
As your eyes settle on the blood, your heart stops for a moment, shaking as you scramble back to the wall before rushing back into your hive.
You've never been good with blood. Especially not that of higher castes- but at least it's not your own.

You flip your shit when your own blood is spilled. That's why everything's filed down, everythings smoothed. You can't let yourself bleed. You can't.

You CAN'T.
You take a deep breath, bracing yourself against the wall as you take deep breaths before returning to your recuperation chamber.
You hate hiding so much, but it's the only way you know…
Three reasons to hide. Three ways to be exposed. Three ways to get culled.

One of them isn't too bad inherently, but you're in too deep for it not to be suspicious to be exposed. You sigh as you slump back into your computer chair, tapping at the keyboard as you boot up a game.
Another day mostly spent inside, it seems. That woman did rattle you, afterall!

But first, you open your trollian account and decide to pester… everyone, time to see if you're the only one dealing with weird people. Time for a new memo…

Chapter Text

==> Be Caught off guard

“Wha- Where’s this coming from??” you ask, flabbergasted at the sudden question
“I KNOW YOU TOLD ME, AND FROM WHAT IT SEEMED LIKE YOU WERE REALLY FUCKING HESITANT TO, BUT WHILE IT SOUNDED A BIT WEIRD IT WAS JUST A NORMAL NAME FAR AS I COULD TELL.”
“I… Look, there’s a lot about me I want to keep secret. You’re a grey texter, you understand-”
“FUCK ARE YOU IMPLYING?”
“Cmon KK, of the 3 grey texters we know about, we make up two of the fuckers. And we all know, almost nobody but mutants have a reason to hide behind grey text. Besides, you're the only… Living troll that's seen me bleed, and with how you reacted it's kinda obvious, despite how you’ve kept your place on the spectrum hidden, and I respect that… Just… Trust me. I have good reasons to hide things about me.” you told him with a wince and a look to the side. Secrets you'll happily take to the grave, given the chance.
“YOU KNOW, IF YOU KNEW, YOU SHOULD PROBABLY WEAR THE SAME SIGN AS ME. BIT OF A STUPID DECISION TO GO AROUND WITHOUT A SIGN ON.”
“Sorry, thanks but no thanks. I like my sign”
“THAT'S NOT A SIGN, THAT'S A MUSICAL NOTE. THE SAME KIND THAT'S LIABLE TO GET SHOVED DOWN YOUR WIDE OPEN PROTEIN SHUTE IF YOU DON'T STOP REFUSING TO DO SOMETHING TO BLEND IN.”
You let out a sigh and rub the back of your neck. You know he's right, but it's not that simple for you. You don't want to just wear the symbol of something you're not, and you don't want to just rehash his. You… Need something that's uniquely you, if you're ever going to actually have a sign.
“OK, karkat… I'll think about it. But I promise nothing more.”

With that, you just sit there for a while, watching the first troll to ever give you more attention than a noble swatting a rust blood out of their path.
Feels like just yesterday.

You were on the way to your hive when you met him. You quite literally walked into him, you were both distracted. You appreciated his somewhat blunt demeanour, at least for most of what he says, and found his particular use of his exceptional verbosity hilarious.

Unfortunately, that day was the one day you didn't want to be distracted from your alertness. Some trolls managed to get the drop on you. If karkat hadn't interfered, you would have probably died that night. He evened the odds enough, even if still lop sided, to win out.
And that's how he became the only living troll to see you bleed.

And he didn't turn you away, or turn you in. For that, you'll be grateful for as long as long as you live.

You let out a soft sigh as you lean forward, twirling your cane before looking at Karkat.
“Who else is joining us in the game?”
“MOST OF OUR FRIENDS- WAIT, SHIT, NOW WE HAVE TOO MANY ON ONE TEAM.”
“Hmm, guessing if Apathy knew about this he'd have told me… Go ask Gentle about it.”
“THAT'S… ACTUALLY A GOOD IDEA.”
“I like to think I have those sometimes.” you respond with a smirk, letting out a chuckle as he gives you a look before standing to move for his pc, and you follow close behind as you activate your mobile device’s timer to access it, the soft tap of your cane on the floor punctuating every other step.
You watch as karkat sets up the memo, furrowing your brow in confusion at it being a memo instead of a direct message as your active slot changes…

We can skip along until the end of the memo here, we already know how it goes…

“You have to be fucking with me! We have VRISKA??”
“I KNOW YOU HAVE A LUSUS SIZED A HATEBULGE FOR HER BUT YOU DONT HAVE TO BE SO LOUD ABOUT IT”
“My hatred for her is completely fucking platonic! She's more liable to stab us in the back than help us!” you yell before looking away with a sigh. “Sorry, don't mean to yell love… I just don't feel safe around her. Not after what shes done. She's everything I try to avoid. She fucking scares me…” You trail off near the end as you finally admit your fear of her, in a near whisper as karkat moves over, placing a hand on your shoulder.
“She's violent, cruel, and would kill any of us in a heartbeat. Just talking to her feels like traipsing a minefield.”
“YEAH, WELL, IT IS. JUST KEEP YOUR HEAD DOWN AROUND HER AND YOU'LL BE FINE. CAN'T EXACTLY KICK HER OUT NOW.”

You groan, holding your head in your hands before standing up.
“I'm gonna head home. Unless there's anything else you need?” you ask as karkat stands next to you.
“AT LEAST LET ME SEE YOU OUT.”
“You don't have to. You gave me a key…”
“I INSIST.”
You smile as you head to the door, pulling it open before you pause.
“WHAT? YOU SEE SOMETHING?”
You turn to look at karkat, before pulling him into a hug
“See you around, love.”
And with that, you break away and head on your way home, hands tucked into your pockets as you try to not rely on your cane. Already had one paranoid experience, you don't need another…
Though, something still feels odd. Not like you're being watched, not anymore. Just… Odd, you suppose. You can't explain it.

You hear a notification come from your mobile before you open it up. Huh. Apathy's made a big memo.

And with that, you put your mobile away, whistling to yourself as you reach your door. Rare things line up like this. Maybe this is a good sign?

Probably not. A headache is looming, you can feel it, and not just the one you have to deal with from miss spider eyes…

Chapter Text

==> be exasperated

You'd hoped the memo would have turned up something. That you weren't the only one noticing something weird. Oh well, maybe you're just being paranoid. Again.

You exit out of the memo before you can have a less-diluted-dose of Vriska. If you knew a stuck up high class was in your wake when Ikou introduced you to karkat and his friends, you might have backed out. But they're mostly fine. Mostly. Not keen on Eridan either, but he's… Marginally more manageable than vriska.

You sigh, standing up and moving to check on a little closet-room.
As of recently, you're the only one in the friend group to still have your lusus, and you're worried because they've been extra elusive lately, hiding in this room- and she's dead.
One of only two living creatures that knew your secrets, and she's dead. You curse under your breath as you shut the door. You can't bring yourself to look at it, to deal with it… You'll just deal with her tommorow. Now only Ikou knows, and even then he only knows one part of it.
Fuck.

You slump back upstairs and slump on your computer seat. You close your eyes and lean back. At least she seems to have gone naturally. Maybe you'll sneak her out in the dark, leave her for nature to claim. You and her used to love exploring beyond civilization. Until one of your secrets was nearly found out. Then you didn't do it so much anymore.

Or maybe you'll just stay inside.
Yeah, that sounds safer.

You stand back up and head down stairs to get a drink that isn't Faygo. And something for some plants you have lying around in corners even you forget sometimes.

You doubt most trolls would appreciate it, too rough, too heavy handed for such delicate things as tending to a green thumb. But you find it helps you relax. Especially after being rattled like today. Not even Ikou gets it, but he respects you enough not to judge. You always liked that about him, his reaction when he doesn't understand isn't disgust or aggression, it's an attempt to understand, or at least a refusal to be a dick about it.

You do wonder if any of the other trolls you know do this.
Is there anyone? Maybe Kanaya, but other than that you have no idea.

Some days, if you were rattled like this, you'd actually talk to Kanaya. She seems to be very understanding. But the Fuschia…
You’d think you'd like her. But you try to avoid her if you can. Can't risk…
Oh fuck!
You were too distracted by your mental predicament and over watered one of your plants!

You groan as you put down the water, pausing for a moment before humming quietly, a paper towel appearing in your hand as you crouch down and dab at the soaked soil- can't risk it drowning. So fickle, these things. Too much water, they die, not enough water, they die… But you suppose that's a natural thing. Everything's fine, but not if there's too much… And therein lies the beauty. A delicate balance upon a pinprick- because that's life isn't it? A billion, billion coincidences all lining up just to create the world you stand on, let alone the people.

Now if only you could take this passion for nature and use it for anything else but fucking games.
Maybe someday.
You glance outside, to see if that crazy jade blood is still laying outside your home. Oh good, they moved the body… You might be able to get yourself to leave the house properly tomorrow. Not that there's anything you really need to do beyond dealing with your lusus…
Huh? Oh, sounds like someone's messaging you again… Time to go upstairs and investigate.
It's… Aradia? What could she want today? You haven't really talked to her much since her, uh, death. That feels so damn weird to think.

You sit down, humming quietly to yourself as you open the chat. Not to access your sylladex, but just because you like to.

And that's too much for you to process, you're done for the day. You liked Aradia while she was alive, you really did, but speaking to her psychic ghost freaks you out almost as much as blood.
You sigh as you stand up from your desk, not even leaving the chat with Aradia before you head back downstairs. Time to fix up some food for your protein chute and sort out everything for tommorow.

You're looking forward to tommorow! Playing games with your friends is always fun.

Chapter Text

==> wake up

You yaaawn as you climb out of your recuperation pod, rubbing your eyes with a mumble. That was a good nap- even if it's another disappointing one where you haven't woken up on your moon yet. Still need to find out for curiosities sake if you're derse or prospi- oh shit it's bright out. You didn't nap, you had a full on sleep.
Shit
You grunt as you climb out of the pod, quickly throwing your favourite clothes on, stretching before heading to your balcony, furrowing your brow as you see something in the distance.
The fuck is that?
You narrow your eyes to take a closer look before you realise.

Meteors.
Distant but closing in fast.
You stare for a few moments before scrambling back into your room, glancing at your pc as you see just a half dozen trolls messaging you.
Seems they're all telling you to boot up the game- what game? Sgrub? But you only said you'd join yesterday so surely the game isn't here yet, and besides, shits happening!!

You don't bother to leave the chat as you leap out of your seat, barging out of your door and throwing yourself down the stairs, stumbling near the end and falling on your arm with a grunt. Don't stop. Emergency, gotta keep moving, until your adrenaline runs dry.
You scramble up and move to your mail slot, pulling the pair of disks in, before looking above the door and hopping- grabbing a backup cane from above the door. For emergencies. It's not in a good way, hence being emergency only, but something tells you that it may come in handy.

You scramble back up the stairs, huffing as your stamina catches up already, slamming a disk in to connect to Kanaya so you can… Do whatever you need to.
Your heart hammers so loud you think you could hear it from across the room, your hands a blur as you quickly try to figure out the ui- you can intuit this, you hope, if things are dire you doubt you have time to fuck around.
You quickly put everything down but the punch designx, don't have any shale, whatever that is, for it.
You glance to your trollian account, quickly opening the chat with… Well. Kanaya, of course, as you put the other disk in.

You hum quietly before you use your mouse to pick up Kanaya’s recuperation pod and abruptly drop it on the Cruxtruder, yelping at the flash of light as the sprite is revealed. You… Suppose you can leave her to handle everything from here? She's a capable one, you're sure she'll manage.
You step back, looking around your room as whoever you are partnered with places everything you need throughout the room. Well, they are much better timed than you.
You glance at your screen, using what Kanaya is doing as a guideline as you pick up the Pre Punched Card, shoving it into the Laithe before rushing to your Cruxtruder, pulling out the cane you grabbed but didn't put in your specibus, the emergency one… Before you pull at its head, revealing a sword hidden within. You make a note to thank Terezi for helping you replace this when it grew dull and worn.

You grunt as you try to wedge the dull blade under the Cruxtruder’s cap, hitting its handle with your palm to get it properly under there. You grunt as you try to use your new wedge to pry it open, the blade flexing with each push you make to get the cap off. With one last push, the blade shatters, a solid inch left under the cap, and you hiss as a shard of metal lodges into your arm.
You clutch it as your vitae spills, gritting your teeth as you rip the shard out and clutch the wound, staring as your ruby red pours down your arm…

Well, if there's any time to bleed, it's now when everything is fucking dying.
You glance up to see your bathtub held over the Cruxtruder, your…
Fuck, your lusus is still laid in it. You just couldn't bring yourself to move them out of the tub after they crawled in there to die a couple days back.
You Yelp as it's dropped, covering your eyes at the flash of light- and the followup flash as your lusus is prototyped into the sprite.

You uncover your eyes with a gasp, eyes wide as you see the face of your lusus staring back. You just stare, before you notice the time on your Cruxtruders timer- less than a minute. You scramble to it, grunting as you heft the cruxite from its tube, careful not to store it away in your captchalogue as you put it in the laithe, watching as it carves away into an idol which you quickly toss into the alchemixer!

It produces a… Stopwatch? Is this a joke??
You pick it up with your wounded arm, a grunt forcing it's way out of your throat as your blood drips onto the floor from your wound. You press the button and nothing happens except it flashes red.
Then you realise. It's got the same formatting as the Cruxtruder’s timer!
You crouch in front of your Cruxtruder, holding the stopwatch next to it as you watch time tick down. Stopwatch says 1 second, so you think you have to press it when the Cruxtruder says the same or lower. That's one second of leeway.
Gotta be careful. Or you turn to a bloodied mist.
10.
You take a deep breath.
9.
You don't dare even blink.
8.
You clutch the watch tighter, and your other hand clutches your wound the same.
7.
6.
5.
You exhale, time seeming to slow as you focus harder than you've ever done in your life.
4.
3.
2.
One last drop of blood onto your floor.
1.
NOW!
You press the stopwatch, the device's timer flashing green as you disappear, with your hive, into the medium. Just in time.

Would there be any other way for you to do it?
Nah. You don't think so.

Chapter Text

==> climb out of your recuperation pod

You hum to yourself as you hop out of your recuperation pod, having a biiiiig stretch at you put your usual garb on, once more pulling up your hood as you wander down stairs to get the game!
Oh you can't wait!
You grab the pair of disks and examine them curiously. Not the most fancy packaging but it looks easy enough to use.
You hum to yourself as you trot your way up the stairs, inserting both disks one after the other without much thought.

You hum quietly to yourself as you look to your trollian account, leaning back as you wait for someone to tell you what's going on or what to do…
Then you blink at the screen as you see a hive show up, furrowing your brow in confusion, then concern.
Oh no.
It's Feferi.
Oh nooo, the one troll you didn't wanna get stuck with.

You don't dislike her, hell her way of wanting things to happen is a dream for you, but you have a VERY legitimate reason to avoid her all you can! God, how did your friend introducing you to Karkat get you wrapped up with a fucking Fuschia?? You've been trying to avoid royal shit for- oh hell she's messaging you.

You groan and hold your face. This could only get worse if you were dealing with vriska, but being stuck between the pining idiot and the fuschia means this shit can't get much worse…
You yelp in shock as a giant device appears next to you, falling out of your chair before scrambling back upright, brushing yourself down. You fail to notice your hood is down, for a moment, before you quickly pull it up. Fuck. Oh fuck. You hope Eridan didn't notice.

You sit back at your desk, seeing just one message from the one troll you didn't want to talk to.
Fuck.

FUCK.
FUCK FUCK FUCK.
Of all the fucking trolls, in all the fucking world, to find out? This is top 3 worst options. Next being vriska and then…
Her.

You groan and scream into your hands before returning to your screen, quickly placing the items down in areas you think are convenient. You've played many games, some even similar to this, so you have a good idea of where best to put things that doesn't make them obstructive.
You then stand up, examining the giant device next to you, climbing up to get a better look at the cap on the top…
“what is this thing… well, may as well try to open it…”
You place your hands at the underside of the cap and try to push it as hard as you can, gritting your teeth as you try to find purchase.

The cap flies off, landing against the wall with a heavy thud, and you yelp out at the blinding flash of the unprototyped sprite floating in front of you.
You just stare at it for a few moments, tilting your head as it bobs in the air in front of you. You're really not sure what to think about it before you heft the Cruxite Dowell from the spout, examining the violet crystal confusedly. You look around at the other items placed down by Eridan, wandering to the lathe and examining the slot for the Cruxite- swiftly placing it in with a hum.

You feel the cursor jab you in the back of the head as you turn to face it with a confused look before it drops the pre punched card onto the floor. You quickly scoop it up and look for the card slot at the cursor runs off to find… Something. You have no idea what he's doing as you insert the card, watching as the dowel is carved by the device…
Wait.

Is that your lusus?? What is he doing with your lusus-?!

You yelp at the ensuing flash as your lusus is prototyped into the kernelsprite, and you gasp as you see your lusus floating there, reaching a hand out to touch them as they float about…
Of course, you come back to your senses with a blink, turning to the carved dowel as you look around for where it's meant to go, before watching as the Sgrub cursor picks it up and places it on the large machine.

Your heart sinks as the machine produces what looks like a face, one you'd hope few people recognise, before what looks like a tiara is dropped onto the disk.
You hesitate as you pick it up, glancing around confusedly before you try to pry it apart, getting minimal flex from it as you try, before you give up with a huff.

You really don't want to, reminds you too much of something you've tried to reject your whole life, something not even your moirail knows about…

You take a deep breath as you slowly lift it over your head-and put it on, your home disappearing in a flash of light as it and you disappear into the medium forevermore…

Chapter Text

==> be bleeding out

You grunt as you stand up from your crouched position, still gripping your arm tight.
You're still bleeding. Badly. And you dont have any way to stop the bleeding, not that you can think of.
In fact, you already feel…
Woozy– oh shit!
You yelp as you fall back, hitting your head and back against the wall like a sack of bricks. Fuck, you dont feel good. Maybe you should just… Rest your eyes.
Yeah. Just rest for a moment. You'll be fine, you're sure…
Huh?
What's that noise? Sounds like a Trollian notification...

You groan through the growing haze of blood loss related exhaustion, furrowing your brow as you try to focus.
Thats right, you were playing a game with your friends…
A game that just saved you from a meteorite.
You must be dreaming, that's not possible.
But… What if it is?
A thought echoes through your head, one that always manages to get you to fight harder, longer, whenever you realise it.

A friend needs you.

You groan as you try to stand, feeling worse than what gets shoved down a load gaper, slumping back against the wall as you huff quietly, your face paling under your makeup from the growing void of scarlet vitae that should be filling your veins.

You barely register the face of Kanaya on your Sgrub viewscreen waving for your attention.
And that's enough.
You grit your teeth as you try to force yourself to stand, demanding through subjugation that your body obey your mind even through this struggle!

You manage to get upright, pulling your cane out and using it with both hands as you limp to your computer, gritting your teeth as you limp along.
You manage to slump into the seat as you pull yourself in to the desk, eyes half glazed as you look at the message window.

There's a few moments of pause. You know she's reluctant to accept your imminent death. Too good hearted to give up. You always liked that about her-something you have in common.

You tremble weakly as you look at the Sgrub screen, you need to focus. You aren't surviving, you know that, but you'll be damned if you're gonna let anyone you care about die because of your ineptitude!

You grit your teeth, hard enough that you swear you hear one crack even if you can't feel it through your adrenaline and willpower fuelled numbness, to keep you focused through the growing haze as you build up Kanaya’s house, trying to get her as high as you can, as close to that gate as you can before…
With a spark, your mouse gives out, drowned under your fleeting life essence.
You stare, hands trembling as you weakly type with your non-bleeding hand.

You press the tab key a few times to highlight karkat's chat, and you slowly press down on the enter key to open it.
You're running out of time…

You struggle to breathe as you send that message, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggle to stay conscious, to stay alive.
Your duty to your friends, to your Karkat, is too strong for you to just give up. But this? A half-life, willing yourself to stay just for a few moments longer as your body shuts down system by system?
You can't hold on like this.
You need him to let you go.
Your hand falls limp by your side, unable to work up the strength to even twitch as you stare at the screen.

You release a breath you didn't even realise you were holding, your heartbeat slowing as your body finally stops fighting the inevitable. You almost forgot he knew your second name. It feels alien reading it. Your vision grows blurry as the shadows close in on all sides, and with the very last of your strength you force your hand back to the keyboard, typing one last message- several seconds lying between each letter.

You finally lie back, the last of your strength spent as you finally let unconsciousness claim you, knowing you'll never awake again.

Your life wasn't a long one. Or a good one by most metrics. But it was your life, and you loved it every step of the way. And you cant help but be grateful, because you knew love. Pale as moonlight.
You wouldn't trade a day of it, for anything.
You hope you did enough. You hope more than anything.
As more and more of your body shuts down, your mind wanders one last time.

You wonder if you'll finally see the moon before you pass, if you'll finally wake up in the brief moments between unconsciousness and death. One final answer you've wanted all your life.

And with that, you close your eyes.

Dead

_______________________

==> be unknown figure

You appear on the balcony of a hive, transparent cogs dissipating around you, one hand gripping your gut as you enter the room attached to it.
You see a young troll, just a little younger than you, dead, at his computer.
You slowly walk over, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“You're not done yet. So… Wake up. Wake up, and smell Derse.”

You crouch down, pulling the dead troll into a kiss before pulling away and spitting to the side.

“God you really need a better brand of makeup, that tastes like ass…”

You ruffle around through a drawer to get ahold of a spare mouse, pulling the old one out and tossing it away before you stick the replacement in, quickly finishing up the route to the gate for Kanaya, quickly placing some barriers around the edges to stop any risks of falling if an imp gets pushy.

You slowly pick up the body and carry it away. Some things would break causality if found, and this body is one of them.
Needs to be burnt.
And you just happen to have the perfect weapon for that.

Chapter Text

==> regain your senses

You groan as you regain your senses, refamiliarising yourself with where you are as you stand up and walk to a window, looking outside.
You gasp in shock as everything seems to be gone, everything beyond your hive, a horizon as far as you can see- green and beautiful.

Land of Growth and Vines

You step away from the window, trying to keep your breath steady- to prevent yourself from being overwhelmed. A LOT has happened in a short time, and your moirail aint here to keep you calm and collected…
Ok Gentle, breathe. What would Ikouze do?
… Something impulsive because he “never has the time to think”, probably. That's why he needs you.

You take a slow, deep breath, letting it go as you turn back to your pc. You slowly sit down. Take it slow, don't rush. Shouldn't get overwhelming if you’re careful.

Oh who are you kidding you’re gonna get angry aren't you, you’re stuck with the noble jackass who represents almost everything that you hate about Alternia…

You furrow your brow confusedly as you slowly move towards your door, accessing your strife specibus and taking a crossbow into your offhand before opening it and aiming down, now hearing commotion from downstairs with one less layer between you and it.
You slowly creep downwards, careful, cautious. Measuring every step until you reach the bottom, and slowly creak the door open, peeking through to see what the source of the noise is.

You furrow your brow as you see the imps scurrying about the room- you aren’t sure what you’re looking at, especially not when one of them pulls the door open, giving you a shock as you scramble against the stairs, strut pods kicking out as you get some distance before firing your crossbow at it, staring at it explodes into grist.

You rush your way back up to your recuperation chamber, leaning against the door to keep it shut as you feel the imps slamming against it as you look around in a panic, not sure what do you as you feel the bumps move you further and further every time they do.
You quickly swap to your other card in your strife deck, a wooden cudgel appearing in your hand before you leap from the door.

Cludgel’s your weapon for when you’re forced to get up close. A blunt weapon is far less likely to cause blood to spray out and make you freak. Still can, of course, but when you’re as fucking shitscared of blood even as far from your own place on the spectrum as rust, every little helps.

As an imp lunges forward for you, you let out an uncharacteristic roar before swinging, the wood impacting hard against the creature in midair as they burst into grist.
You aren't used to combat even with your strength, let the lack of resistance after hitting the disappearing imp, so you stumble to the side, nearly falling as a couple other imps storm their way into the room.

You shake your nugbone as you regain your balance- thank god these things don't leave blood behind, or this would be rough.
You glance up as you see the cursor holding up your Hunger trunk, dropping it on one of the imps, squishing it and distracting the other as you lunge forward, slamming the cudgel down with enough force that you do actually fall over after the imp vanishes.

You grunt as you stand back up, brushing yourself down as you look at all the grist, wandering around to pick it up.

Oh, hey, you raised a couple echeladder rungs. From… Greentike to… late-wriggler and..
Oh, you gotta be kidding…
“Greengills”. Your trollian handle.
… Har har. You’ve never really looked at your echeladder before, so the coincidence is out of the blue to you. Clearly whoever made this has a sense of humour you don't appreciate.

Though, you do appreciate the rewards. Even if you dont really know what most of it means? You feel a little stronger.
Not that it was a concern in the first place.

You take a breath as you look around, hearing things move about as Eridan builds up your hive. Feels weird to have the walls you knew so well warp and change around you, even if you dont see it all yet.

And yet, despite your trepidation and fear, you feel like everything is gonna be good.
This is just the beginning of a new story, afterall!

__________________________________

(CW: death. Couldnt put this earlier for spoilers sake, sorrryyyy D:)

Cold.

You feel… Cold.

Its been weeks since this journey began.
You’re lying in the dirt. Cold.
So cold.
One eye barely creaked open as you look out across the small area where you lie.
You count 12.
12 friends lying with you. A rainbow of colors painted across the field.
You didnt think things would end like this.

You watch as your last friend standing stops fighting, mentally defeated at the sight of you as you are.
Promises he made to you invalidated, in the end.

You hope he makes it.
He has to…

“ik…ou…ze…” you whisper to yourself as you watch… You arent as strong as him. You cant fight this…

Your open eye glazes over as the light leaves it and you lie there, lost amongst the graveyard that was once your party.

dead

Chapter Text

==> Ikouze- Rise again.

CW: Kinda sorta body dysmorphia, death, blood.

Your eyes flicker open.

You were right. You did finally wake up, in the brief moment between unconsciousness and death.
You slowly look around from your prone position, taking in all the details around you.
You never much cared for purple, but this shade isn't that bad.
You close your eyes once more, ready to go as your real body dies…

You gasp as you lurch upright, gripping your chest as you’re revived in your dream body, eyes wide as they shoot around the room to figure out what happened.
You’re awake, you’re alive. How? That shouldn't be possible… You’re no psionic powerhouse like Aradia, so how are you still…

Its only now you realize something isn't right. You look at your skin.
Where you expect grey to meet your eyes, a stark white stares back at you.
You clamber out of the bed as you realize your disguise- no, your true nature is missing, eyes wide with horror at the realization, heart hammering out of paranoia of being seen like this. This isnt who you are anymore, its not, you’re a troll- you ARE a troll! Toby is dead, he wasnt strong enough to survive on Alternia, Ikouze is all that’s left… And then you see something odd. Odd enough to grab hold of your attention from your spiraling panic, at least for now.

In front of the door to the room, a canesword embedded into the floor, surrounded by a handful of capchalogue cards. And a note pierced in the middle of it.

You pick up the blade and pluck the note off its edge, examining it with a furrowed brow.

“Clean yourself up” it reads. Writing looks familiar… But you cant place it.
You hum confusedly before looking at the cards across the floor, gasping as you realize it has all you need to get yourself looking how you’re meant to!

You spend the next few minutes using and waiting to use the cosmetics with your damn modus slowing you down.
A pair of cosmetic contacts that give your eyes the yellow sclera troll youth are known to have. Though, not the most conducive to seeing well, you manage just fine.
A headband with a pair of horns- on both sides.
And of course- an abundance of grey makeup and bodypaint. Also a little bit of white for around the eyes. Gotta lean into it or people get suspicious at blemishes.

You let out a relieved sigh as you examine your body, giving your headband a slight adjustment to make sure its hidden under your scruffy head of hair. You make a mental note to thank whoever left all this for you if you find them. Odd though- everything is exact, and far as you know? Nobody on Alternia knows your original nature. And earth doesn't exist to know it either. Never even told Karkat…
Wait
FUCK! Of everything left for you, a means of messaging Karkat isn't amongst them! You cant let him know you’re ok!
Or, well
As ok as a dream self ghost can be you guess?
Time to get moving. Gotta see if you can find a way back home, to your team…

_________________________________

Its a bloodbath.

Took you about a week to find your way home. Never let it be said that you’re lucky. And even with weeks to work with, to make new toys and grow in power, it wasn't enough.
You never figured out how to use whatever powers you’re supposed to have.
Maybe that’s why you lost.

You’re still standing, gripping a blade that's stabbed into your gut, staring up at the fanged visage that just wiped out everyone you cared for.
You feel…
Tired.
You came this far, just to stumble at the finish line.
And then you hear it.
A weak voice. A voice you know well.
Whispering your name.

You glance back to see him as he fades away, your own eyes wide in horror. You’ve already lost everyone else, the painful rainbow of bloodied paint surrounding you a permanent reminder of what happened to them.

And then he’s gone.
Your first friend.
Your closest friend.

You can't fight anymore.

You close your eyes as your grip on the blade that threatens to run you through loosens. You can't win anyway, especially not alone, so why would you bother fighting?

But then you hear something else. Another familiar voice.
“GET OUT OF HERE!”
It sounds like… You?

You and the monster that has your gut stabbed look up to see what appears to be you- paler from the wound probably, seemingly maybe an hour or so older, falling from the sky, canesword unsheathed and swinging.

You gasp as the beast pulls its blade out of you and turns to counter the attack. You stare for a moment, confused, unable to properly register the command yelled at you. How are you… He… Here?
You realize you’re staring and turn to flee, mind racing as you try to remember a way to get back to your planet…

You cough as you lean against the wall of your hive, a hand gripping your wound. What the hell was that?
Fuck, why did you bother running? Was that really you? Why would you still be fighting?
What reason would you have..?

“Rough day, huh?”
You yelp as you draw a dual trident from your strife deck, with one hand holding your wound you cant really unsheathe your canes so this is your only option. And you see.. Yourself, again.
Not as pale as the one who attacked the bastard, but still a little paler than you are now.

“Who the hell..?”
“Yeah. I was just like that not 10 minutes ago. Weird aint it?”
“How are you..?”
“You’ll figure it out… By watching me, I guess? Time loops are pretty confusing.”
“Why do we…?”
“Try? Well, im still figuring it out. That one that saved us had the motivation to. Gotta see why we throw caution to the wind like that, don't we?”

That gives you pause. That's true, hell it's obvious when you think about it, why would the one that saved you bother trying, unless they had a reason to?

You take a breath, eyes following the minutes-older version of you as he moves to the alchemixer, tossing a totem in and creating something that they toss over to you- with a punched card.

You catch what they tossed at you, brow furrowed- looks like a cane sword, but... Not one you’re used to. The shaft is smooth, beautifully so, seemingly made of a reddish wood and yet firm enough that even with how far you’ve reached up the echeladder it has no give. The seam where the handle of the blade meets the scabbard is more distinct than you’re used to, easier to notice from a distance, but that’s not where your eyes are taken.
The handle has a design you cant help but be drawn to. On all sides of it, are large cogs that stick out- some even seem to float just next to where your hand would naturally grip it. And those that arent, while you doubt it’d be the most comfortable grip, would certainly help with preventing slippage, an issue you have had before.

You then pick up the card, examining it for a moment before looking up.
“What is this?”
“The code for that weapon. You’ll need it to keep this loop stable.”
“How did you get..?”
“I got it from me. Uh. You? God i can see why i was struggling to explain it when i was in your shoes.” the alternate you sighs, resting his own copy of the weapon on his shoulder. “Time for me to head out. Think i figured out where i go next. G’luck, uh, me.”
And with that he steps to the side, hand moving from his wound to grasp his own cane and pull the blade free. And so you get your first look at it.

A flawless white sheen, with a smooth fuller down the whole length. Of which is just shy of the whole length of the cane itself. You’ve used many canes and their associated blades over the years, and you have to say, this one’s the most beautiful you’ve ever laid your eyes on.

You gasp as he swings it at the air, the tip seemingly slipping into the air and gliding through, the sliced seam splitting open and causing a transparent cog to appear in its place. The older you takes a breath, before stepping through. And both he, and the cog, dissipate into the ether.

You stare, slack jawed for a moment before shaking your head, slowly pulling your own blade free. It feels… Perfect. Like an extension of you. It pulls at parts of you that you dont know, seemingly drawing power from you and yet seemingly filling them in return. You’re not sure what to think.

You raise the blade and swing down at the air, grunting as you feel the blade struggle against whatever you’re cutting through. It feels… Tough. Like cutting through steel. The blade struggles as you keep trying to force it through.

You growl as you grab the handle with both hands, adjusting the grip- until the alignment of the blade lines up, and it slides through the rest…

You stare for a moment as the semi-transparent cog floats in front of you, hesitating, before you jump forwards and slip through…