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mikeshanlon · 7 years ago

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he’s all that: chapter two

fandom: it

pairing: reddie (richie tozier/eddie kaspbrak)

word count: 5k

one | on ao3

summary:

Richie smiled smugly, “You’ve got spunk Kaspbrak. I like that.”

“Why don’t you try shutting the fuck up Tozier,” Eddie retorted as the line moved forward, “So what is this, if not some ploy to get me to tutor you? Some sort of dork outreach program? Because I’m not interested.”

—

Or: The one where Richie Tozier has six weeks to get into a relationship and make someone fall for him. Only problem? That someone is the anxiety ridden, goody two shoes Eddie Kaspbrak, and he can’t even stand to be in the same room as Richie.

warnings: there is drug use in that bev/mike/richie are HUGE stoners. also this chapter there is mentions to maggie being an alcoholic.

a/n: hey! decided to post two weeks in a row just to get the ball rolling (which is why i still dont have all the chapters figured out as promised, my apologies). i'll probably start the every other week thing for next update (so chapter three should be up by march 4th). i would try to do every week but im a college student who has Stuff to do and also makes gifs and im horrible at finishing my writing so, giving myself a realistic deadline that will still hopefully produce quality work. anyways, richie and eddie finally interact this chapter! it's....................... ��a bit messy though. and we get to see the rest of the losers club in this one too.

tag list: @richietoaster, @wintersember, @howellhxlic, @ed-txzier, @clara-farl3y

After standing in the hallway arguing with Bev for ten minutes, (“I mean really Bevs, fuck!” “You said anyone.” “How do we even know he’s gay?!” “Richie, please.”) Richie resigned himself to the fact that he was going to find some way to charm Eddie. Maybe Beverly would let him borrow that spellbook she bought junior year when she had become obsessed with witchcraft and hexing the patriarchy.

Once school was finally over, Richie dropped off Mike at his farm per usual, ranting about the bet the whole ride over. The farm boy nodded along, but he knew the words ‘told you so’ sat on the tip of his tongue.

They pulled up to his house, the engine idling so he wouldn’t have to spend time getting it to start again, “Don’t wait up for me tonight if you wanna smoke. Got lotsa research in store,” Richie said as Mike grabbed his backpack and got out of the car.

Mike raised a brow, leaning into the passenger window (which in its broken state always stayed down), “I’m surprised Rich. You never do your homework.”

“Homework shmomwork,” he tapped the end of his cigarette out the window before taking another drag, “Gotta figure out what little ol’ Edward likes. Time for some deep dark internet exploration.”

“Ah, you’re gonna stalk him. Wasting time on social media does sound much more in character,” Mike smiled.

“It’s not a waste Mikey darlin’, a shit ton of preemo dank is on the line.”

The other boy laughed and shook his head, “Godspeed Tozier.”

Richie saluted Mike as he reversed out back to the main road, Bigmouth Strikes Again blasting on the old car radio.

He weaved through the streets filled with kids walking home or trying to find something to do in this shit-hole town. Long afternoons spent at The Aladdin watching the newest releases or aggressively slamming his fingers down on his favorite game at the arcade came to mind; along with going out of his way to bother just about everyone in his path. Richie never really had many friends when he was younger, spending most of his time alone. He was grateful he crossed paths with Bev and Mike, to fate, luck, God if it existed. The universe was rarely kind to him, but finding them was the best thing that ever happened to him.

Plus, the first time he had smoked weed, but that was with them too.

Turning onto his street, Richie pulled up to the unsuspecting two-story white house. It was straight out of a handbook on the American Dream; but the closer one looked, the imperfections started to appear.

The box overflowing with bottles once filled with alcohol next to the recycling bin, which was already too full with more empty bottles. A crooked ‘Home Sweet Home’ sign by the front door. Dying grass, overgrown and conquered with the little weeds Richie used to make wishes on before blowing the seeds into the summer air (I wish for friends. I wish for better parents. I wish to be loved).

He parked the station wagon on the curb, saving the space next to his Mom’s car for his father.

Maggie’s car hadn’t been driven in months (years?), and Richie absently wondered if it would even work anymore. It was nice, a decent heater and it drove well, at least it did when she had bothered to drop him off at school as a kid. Despite her general lack of care for the wellbeing of others, Mrs. Tozier did not drink and drive. Meaning, she didn’t drive at all, as she was drunk off her ass most of the time.

Richie grabbed his books from the backseat and clambered out, fumbling to find his house key among the mess of weird keychains he bought while high.

He didn’t bother stating his presence, even as a pretense, giving up the habit long ago.

Maggie Tozier sat outside, her back facing the screen door in the kitchen. A cigarette rested from her fingertips, and Richie wasn’t sure if she was actually smoking it or just watching it burn. Of course, her other hand gripped a bottle of beer, and a wine cooler sat at her feet.

Richie scoffed and bounded up the stairs to his room, a ‘KEEP OUT’ sign and band posters adorning the door.

It was often said that one’s room reflected who they were as a person, and Richie was no exception. That is, to say, his room was an absolute fucking mess. His bed was never made, and clothes and knick knacks littered the floor (he had already tripped over some beat up sneakers as he walked in). Old mugs, comics, a lava lamp, lotion, and an ashtray Bev had made him in ceramics sat on his bedside table (read: an old wooden apple carton). The only thing that he kept clear was his record player and vinyls at the edge of the bed, which were meticulously organized.

He tossed his notebooks on his desk, alongside stolen pens, his laptop, and his bong. If his parents actually fucking talked to him he would bother to hide his shit, but it didn’t really matter.

Picking up his laptop and its charger, Richie was on his way out again. He could stay home to conduct his research, but he hated the stuffiness and how lifeless the house felt. It wasn’t really even a home, at least not his. Plus, coffee. It was a necessity, especially for the amount of bullshit he’d have to go through just for the tiny brat.

Richie drove to the Starbucks on Main and Belmont, strolling up to barista and ordering his usual: venti quadruple-shot, black. While he often gorged himself on sweets, his need for caffeine could only be sated by the purest form the coffeeshop could offer.

Per usual, the barista gave him a look, “You sure?”

“Listen, I’ve already made a shit ton of horrible decisions today. Trust me, this is not the worst of them,” Richie answered, sliding the cash across the counter

She raised her brows but said nothing else, handing him the change.

He set up shop at a table by the window in the back, away enough from the other patrons. Most of the time Richie threw caution to the wind, but he figured it would suspicious if someone saw him furiously stalking someone who looked like they hadn’t even graduated from middle school.

After retrieving his coffee, opening his MacBook, and plugging his headphones in, Richie scoured Instagram first. ‘Eddie.k’ didn’t post much, mostly some artsy photos, including ones of Bill and Stanley Uris (their other best friend). There were only one or two selfies, much to Richie’s disappointment. Eddie wasn’t actually too bad looking if you ignored his clothes, his hair, his… everything. Freckles dusted his face, concentrated around his little nose, a few on his lips. Cute lips. Cute cheeks. He had the urge to pinch them. But Jesus, that combover. What was he, a balding man in the 80’s?

Other than those pictures, Eddie hadn’t really posted to Instagram in months. He moved onto his tagged photos. They had some more substance, although Eddie had pretty much only been tagged in pictures by Bill and Stan. It wasn’t like Richie wasn’t in the same boat of having only a few close friends, but at least he hung out with other people.

For the most part, the pictures were pretty normal, the three of them hanging out. Richie couldn’t help but snort at a picture of the three, presumably after a sleepover. They looked exhausted, hair messy, and were brushing their teeth. Pretty mundane, but Eddie had pulled a ridiculous face in the mirror. It was silly, but Richie hadn’t even thought Eddie was capable of making jokes or doing weird shit. The fucker was always uptight, serious even when they had a substitute. Unsurprisingly, Eddie did not appreciate the post.

eddie.k: literally stan delete this!!!!!!

stantheman: @eddie.k, sorry sweatie (:

Richie grinned and continued to scroll, stopping at a picture of Eddie lying down on the grass, laughing. He wore a red tracksuit, the one students wore to P.E. when the bitter chill of autumn came to Derry. His hair must’ve been a little sweaty, because it was curling up into a messy halo around his grinning face. Richie wanted to know this Eddie, see him curl up laughing, but he knew that would never happen.

He perused their profiles for a while before growing bored, downing a third of his coffee before moving on. Except Eddie didn’t seem to have a Twitter, or a Snapchat. A quick google search of his name only came up with a few images and… a Facebook profile?

Richie prayed that it was an old one Eddie had never deleted, but after the page loaded he saw that the most recent status was made last night.

“Oh my fucking god,” he whispered to himself.

Eddie’s profile picture made him look particularly child-like, a weird picture of him pointing to the camera like he was cool, even though the same hand had a clunky old watch wrapped around it. His header picture displayed the quote ‘there is bravery in being soft’.

Richie snorted, “Yeah, a soft fucking dick!”

Another patron scoffed at his fowl mouth, and he shot her a smug grin.

Eddie only had 40 friends on the site, which consisted of Bill, Stan, some of the other nerds at Derry High, and his mother and her friends. It wasn’t like someone’s Facebook friends actually mattered, especially because only middle aged mothers who posted minion memes about their alcoholism used it anymore, but it was still kinda pitiful.

His posts were generally uninteresting, stuff like ‘super nervous for the math test’, or ‘soooooooooooo bored ://///’. Otherwise, he mostly just shared pictures of cute dogs and DIY videos.

It was hard to find any useful information on Eddie, since he obviously lied a lot. Not in the way of bragging, or saying that he did things he didn’t (like Richie did). But there were comments from Mrs. Kaspbrak’s friends calling him a lady killer, or a few posts calling Carly Rae Jepsen cute (please, Run Away With Me is the one of gayest songs of all time). Eddie was closeted, and Richie knew from experience that someone could never really be themselves around others if they weren’t out.

What his profile lacked in useable information, it more than made up with blackmail material.

Take, for instance, little Eddie in possibly the gayest fucking hat imaginable.

He screeched as he saw the picture of the eleven year old, a white fedora-bucket hat hybrid sitting atop his tiny head, before breaking out into a full on wheeze. Richie was laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe, and then he thought about Eddie using his inhaler in that gay ass hat and laughed even harder.

The other customers began to stare, some concerned, and others pissed off at the disturbance.

Once he had collected himself somewhat, Richie sent a screenshot to the group chat.

the losers

bev: oh my fucking G O D

richie: I CANT FUCKIN BREATHE ELRNKKLNERG

richie: LIKE F U C K !!! KLJKLGRJKLLEJK

richie: LOOK AT HIS GAY HAT

richie: LIKE, IT’S GAYER THAN WEARING NOTHING BUT A PRIDE FLAG AND GLITTER

richie: HE LOOKS LIKE A TWINKY SKIPPER

richie: HOW IS THAT HAT MORE GAY THAN EVERY SINGLE ONE RYAN EVANS WORE IN THE ENTIRE HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL FRANCHISE COMBINED

bev: i’m muting you

mike: me too

mike: also that hat isn’t that bad

“‘Not that bad?!’” Richie squawked, not that he’d be able to hear him.

(Really, Richie had no authority on the subject. He still donned the occasional Hawaiian shirt over his tees).

He refreshed Eddie’s profile, seeing that he had made a new status.

Eddie Kaspbrak: big night friday, nervous but excited !!!!

Richie raised his brows in intrigue, seeing that Bill and a handful of other people liked the status. What was going on Friday?

He checked to see if Bill had posted anything, if Eddie was going somewhere, chances were Bill was too.

Bill Denbrough: almost the weekend, finally ready to let loose

Seriously, it would’ve been so much easier if Bill was the guy Richie had to woo. Kid was probably fucking nervous for a party, a place where you threw caution to the wind and had a good time. Still, he made a mental note about finding out what their Friday plans were.

Richie sighed, taking another swig of his coffee, “God, what a fucking loser.”

Suddenly, his headphones were being tugged out of his ear by an angry middle-aged woman with short-layered hair and eye bags.

“Hey, what the fuck?” Richie glared, snatching back his headphones.

The woman returned the look, putting her hands on her hips, “Don’t you have respect for the other customers?!”

“Sweetheart, I don’t have respect for myself, let alone some PTA moms-- like the post-divorce haircut by the way.”

Apparently, his finger guns did not soften the blow, because the lady started to scream at him.

And, apparently, this lady was also the manager, and was pushing him out the door.

So great, Eddie and his dumb gay hat got him banned from Starbucks.

Even though he was wounded from Eddie’s betrayal, (because Richie getting kicked out was definitely not his fault-- it was Eddie’s homosexual headwear. An anthropomorphic device of chaos, that Eddie owned, so, yeah, it was Kaspbrak’s fucking fault.) Richie still skipped smoking on Thursday to spend his lunch with the tiny fuck.

Obviously, they hadn’t made plans to do so, but Richie had, and he really couldn’t delay starting the bet. There was a lot on the line.

So, after getting out of econ (turning in an unstudied for but probably aced quiz), and throwing his shit in his locker, Richie detoured to the cafeteria.

The place was a fucking mess, and it reminded Richie just why he avoided the place. It was pure chaos, loud and overwhelming, a million things to get distracted by. Freshman with their stupid rolling backpacks kept whizzing by, making Richie trip or get his feet ran over. The tables were already filled, the honor roll kids, the partiers, Gretta and her gang. Fucking cliches.

He got in line, picking up a tray and proceeding to fiddle with the buttons at the cuff of his black and white flannel; trying to tune out the buzz of conversation. It was weird, at parties he thrived on the noise and disorder, but here all it was doing was fucking with his ADHD.

Richie drummed a beat onto his tray as the line moved forward and picked the most edible looking slop from the menu. The lunch lady glowered at him as he reached for his money only to realize he had put it in the other pocket, fumbling to put the bills and coins on the counter.

As she put the money in the register, Richie looked around the room, checking to see where Eddie was sitting. He was sat near one of the exits, carefully taking out his lunch and swinging his legs. And he was alone. Perfect.

“Kid, do you want a receipt or not?” the lunch lady snapped from across from him.

Richie blinked back into focus, “Uh, sure, sorry.”

She sighed and printed out the receipt, slamming it down on the tray, “Next!”

Grabbing his tray, Richie plucked up some plastic cutlery and made his way through the sea of students to Eddie Kaspbrak. He had to twist and lift his tray a bit, but eventually the crowds started to part a bit. A chorus of whispers started to erupt. Stupid small town.

“Is that Richie Tozier?”

“I think, but doesn’t he always get high with his stoner friends?”

“What is he doing here?”

“God, he’s so hot.”

Richie smirked, sending a wink at the girl’s praise before sitting across from Eddie. He watched for a moment as the boy continued to focus on on unpacking his utensils and napkins before clearing his throat.

Eddie’s eyes snapped up from his lunchbox, widening when he saw Richie.

“What the fuck?” It was meant to be a whisper to himself, but Eddie’s voice was louder than expected.

Richie grinned at the blushing boy, “Well, hello to you to Eds.”

“Don’t call me that,” Eddie snapped, returning to his food.

Richie waited for him to say something else, at least fucking look at him, but the little fuck kept his eyes glued to his grapes, nails aggressively ripping the fruit from their stems.

“Okay,” he started, taking a sip of his apple juice, “So, you may be wondering why I’m sitting with you—“

Eddie interrupted, annoyance apparent in every fiber of his being, “Is this gonna be quick or not?”

“I’m hoping it’s not quick, although given how hot I am it’s difficult for people to control themselves.”

A long, deep sigh came from Eddie’s (cute, soft) lips. Eddie grabbed at Richie’s hands, flipping them over so that the palms faced upwards.

“Wow, a bit forward, but I’m liking your style Kaspbrak,” Richie winked.

Eddie rolled his eyes and proceed to take out hand sanitizer from his fanny pack, squirting the floral scented product into Richie’s hands.

Honestly, what the fuck?

He must’ve sent the same message to Eddie with his face, because Eddie said, “You obviously aren’t gonna leave me the fuck alone, and if you’re gonna be in my space, you need to be clean.”

Richie raised a brow at this but rubbed the hand sanitizer into his hands anyways.

Jesus Christ, what a weird, defensive little bitch.

Eddie watched with focused eyes, and only spoke when Richie was finished.

“Continue.”

It took a moment for Richie to gain his bearings once more. This mission seemed dead on arrival, but he had to keep trying anyways.

“So, Eddie…” Richie trailed off, twirling the pasta on his plate before his eyes lit up, “Eddie Spaghetti, Eduardo, what’s up?”

Eddie scowled, “That’s not my fucking name!” he squeaked, “And ‘what’s up?’ I mean, we’ve barely even talked before. You think I’m just gonna put up with this because you’re Richie Tozier? I swear to god, if this is some fucking bullying thing...”

Around them, people began to stare and eavesdrop at the sound of Eddie yelling. Fucking perfect.

Richie blinked back at the boy across from him, now red in the face for a different reason, “Calm down, I’m just trying to get to know you.”

“Fat fucking chance.”

Okay, wow. Richie had more work cut out for him than expected. He thought of what to say next as he watched Eddie finish his grapes.

“This isn’t, like, a joke,” (it wasn’t real either), “I just wanna hang out.”

“Hang out?” Eddie’s chocolate brown eyes met Richie’s, his tone mocking.

Richie nodded, “Yeah, ya know, kick it with the homies. Make out a little if you’re down. Friend stuff.”

Eddie’s jaw clenched, “You’re unbelievable. Just fucking unbe— you know, how can you even say any of that shit? How can we be ‘homies’ if we’ve never ‘hung out’ before? And don’t want to-- I’m not-- you don’t know me!”

There was something underlying in Eddie’s voice as he snapped, wavering at the end. Richie, like most things in life, was completely and utterly fucking up.

“Well then, how about we fix that?” Richie leaned forward, “I was wondering if maybe you’d wanna—“

Abruptly, Eddie stood up, grabbing his food and walked off, making his way towards the cafeteria line where Bill and Stan were paying for their lunch.

Richie looked around at all the watching faces, some snickering and others as shocked as he was.

“...Embarrass me horribly in front of all these people.”

He took a deep breath, and shoved some spaghetti in his mouth, his frown growing larger at the disgusting taste. Richie was often considered a wild card, but this was when routine was a good thing. He should’ve just avoided this and sparked up with Bev and Mike.

Actually, he was going to do just that. There was still some left in lunch, and no reason for him to stay in the cafeteria if Eddie was giving him the cold shoulder. More like a giant fucking iceberg but still, pointless. Besides, he really needed to get high now. Eddie ruined his whole mood and pissed him the fuck off.

Richie got up and tossed out the inedible garbage before going to the usual spot, finger itching for a joint.

He used his foot to push open the door, which would’ve been cool, except with his clumsiness and horrible luck he tripped forward, narrowly avoiding falling down the steps and face planting by grabbing the railing.

As Richie caught his breath and stabilized himself, he could hear his friends laughing.

“Back so soon?” Bev smirked knowingly, taking a drag.

Richie huffed, “Ha ha. Let’s yuck it up for my misfortune,” he grabbed her joint and took a long hit, “This fucking kid, Bev. I don’t think I can do this!”

“As in, you’re morally incapable of leading him on?” Mike asked hopefully.

“Please, let’s be realistic here Mikey. No, that kid is like, the fuckin devil incarnate. Shithead is fucking crazy!” Richie paced, smoking from the joint.

Bev laughed, “What makes you say that?”

“Why don’t ya ask the whole fucking school?” Richie snapped, though the anger wasn’t directed at her, “They were watching it all go down. If that wheezy asshole ruins my reputation—“

“What reputation?” Mike interjected.

Richie rolled his eyes and flipped him off.

Another voice spoke up, “I dunno, Richie’s pretty well known. I like him well enough.”

Richie whirled around, just noticing a new face among the usual group, Ben Hanscom.

The eternal new kid, since no one ever moved to ass backwards Derry, was not someone he’d expect to be behind the art building. Maybe reciting poetry or some shit, but not blazing. Ben was sweet and genuine, albeit a little shy. He was no longer the chubby kid he once was, more stocky and muscular now. They weren’t too close, as the tawny haired boy spent more time with Mike and Bev, and if not them, the other dorks (like Eddie and his friends). But either way, dude was pretty chill. Richie just didn’t really want him there mid-meltdown.

“Haystack?! You smoke?!” he whistled, “Ho-ly shit, who woulda thought!”

Ben shook his head, “Uh, no I don’t. Mike and I just had to study for history next block.”

His deep brown eyes flitted to Beverly, who had now stolen back her joint and was playing with the key that hung from her neck. Yeah, studying was the only reason. Not Ben’s excruciatingly obvious crush on the red head.

“We would’ve just gone to the library, but Bev and I made a bet about if you’d be successful or not today,” Mike said.

Richie gasped, “Betting on my failure? Fuck you guys, Benny Boy is my new best friend.”

“I didn’t sign up for that.”

“Hey, I bet on you succeeding,” Mike put his hands up in surrender, “She’s the one who thought you’d screw it up.”

“And I was right. Pay up,” Bev smiled, holding out her palm.

Mike dropped a candy bar in it with a deep sigh. She tore open the wrapping, taking a savage bite of the chocolatey sweet.

“I think you have a gambling problem,” Mike quipped.

Bev shrugged, “Not a problem if I keep winning.”

She grinned, her teeth covered in chocolate and spit. Gross. Ben still looked enraptured. Double gross.

“Anyways, can we focus on the important bet, and the fact that this fuck is impossible! Seriously, Bev, babygirl, pick anyone else!” Richie whined, plopping his bony ass on the cement.

“First off, don’t call me ‘babygirl’,” she flicked the ash off the end of the joint at him, “Second, the deal was anyone. You either woo him or you don’t.”

Richie opened his mouth to complain again but Ben beat him to it.

“I’m sorry, but what are we talking about?”

The other three looked at each other in panic. Ben was friends with Eddie, there was no way he could find out what was going on. The whole thing would be ruined before it started.

“Nothin!” Richie squeaked, “Just uh… bet that I couldn’t ace a group project. I usually just bullshit a lot of that stuff and leave it up to the others if I can. Partner’s just a little… high strung.”

Bev groaned and Mike sighed. A horrible fucking lie. Richie was already trying to formulate a better one in his head.

Ben smiled, “That’s nice, a wholesome, supportive bet. But you really should just communicate with your partner. They might be nervous because of your history is all.”

Richie let out a sound of relief before realizing Ben’s advice could actually be helpful.

“Sure, but I already tried to talk to him and it didn’t go well,” he explained.

Bev and Mike raised their brows, catching on.

“Well, how did you talk to him?” Ben asked, “Was it an ambush or a friendly conversation?

Bev snorted, “Ambush, knowing Richie. He doesn’t do friendly conversations.”

“Maybe with you, because you’re on my ass all the time,” Richie shot back, “But uh, she’s right. Shouldn’t matter though, everyone knows that’s how Tough Guy Tozier does his business.”

Mike groaned, “Please don’t call yourself that ever again.”

“You’re just coming on too strong. You have to consider what he likes, what he wants. A good partnership comes with compromise and communication,” Ben nodded sagely.

Richie ruffled his hair, putting on his trusty British voice, “Thank you Advisor Hanscom. Your wisdom is greatly appreciated.”

Ben smiled awkwardly, his eyes going to Bev once again, “Course.”

He took the joint from Bev, inhaling the musty smoke and blowing it out his nostrils, the burning sensation familiar and welcome.

“And maybe, you should talk to him sober next time,” Mike suggested.

Richie laughed, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

By the time the final bell rang, he was still feeling defeated and unsure of his next move. Sure, he’d have to dial back his trashmouth charm, try to seem actually invested in Eddie but… that wasn’t going to happen if the brat never talked to him again. Richie had to find a way to break the tension between them, start fresh.

He sulked to his locker, pulling out his shit from the looming mess. Loose binder paper and pencils fell onto the ground, and Richie just wanted to bang his head against the wall of metal. Also, go home and smoke while playing video games but, mostly, hit his head repeatedly. Maybe he’d lose enough brain cells to forget the entire day.

After a few moments of excessive cursing, Richie grabbed what he needed and got everything that fell back into the locker. He noticed a new post it on the door just before he closed it.

Don’t give up :) <3 - mike

Richie smiled, and slammed the locker shut with a resounding clang. With a little stretch and a fix of his glasses, he strolled through the halls, making his way to the parking lot to wait for Mike.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bill and Stan loitering around the halls as well, engaged in (an undoubtedly boring) conversation.

He remembered Bill and Eddie’s facebook status’ about exciting plans for tomorrow night and decided he should investigate.

“Billiam! Staniel!” Richie called as he approached them, “What’s up?”

The two stopped talking and looked up, Bill smiling while Stan rolled his eyes.

“H-hey, Richie,” Bill waved. Richie noted that his stutter had gotten a lot better just over the past year. The two of them had shared a few classes when they were juniors and were pretty friendly with one another. At least compared to his relationship with Eddie and Stan, who also seemed to hate him for no reason.

Speaking of, the prim and proper boy was glaring at him, “Didn’t get enough of being a nuisance at lunch?”

Richie raised a brow, “Whatever do you mean?”

Stan scoffed, and opened his mouth to respond, but Bill put a hand on his shoulder, “N-nothing. Stan’s just… on edge. What’s up w-with you?”

“Not much, just trying to figure out what my plans are for tomorrow,” Richie shrugged, “Got any suggestions?”

“The only thing on your mind is where to party? Not surprised,” Stan quipped.

Richie shoved his hands in his pockets, biting his tongue. Snapping at Eddie was what caused his whole operation to go south, and he couldn’t mess up this second chance.

Bill ignored the tension between them, “Well, usually w-we don’t do t-t-too m-much, but it’s s-senior year. Probably going to Peter Gordon's party.”

“That kid’s an ass.”

“Coming from you, that’s rich,” Stan commented, his arms crossed.

His grinned, “Well, yeah, I am Rich.”

Stan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah, he is, but he’s also s-super wealthy,” Bill avoided another ‘rich’ pun, “Meaning he’ll h-h-ave q-q-quality shit.”

Richie beamed, “Ah, I get it. You’re Robin Hood-ing that fuck. I like your style Billy Boy.”

He clapped Bill on the shoulder, and the other boy blushed slightly, “W-well, it wasn’t j-just my idea. Eddie and Stan helped.”

“Eddie? He’s coming with you guys?”

Bill shook his head, “N-no. He was supposed to, b-b-but that art thing came up so he h-had to cancel.”

“Art thing?” Richie asked, suddenly intrigued. This was the information he wanted.

“Yeah,” Bill nodded, “It’s this show that happens every month. At Jester Theatre. He always goes.”

Stan not so subtly elbowed Bill in the ribs, hissing at him to shut up.

“W-what?!”

“Yeah, what’s got your steamed panties in a twist Uris?” Richie smirked.

Stan sent him a scowl, “You know very well Tozier. Eddie told us all about what you did at lunch. Back the fuck off.”

“S-stan, I don’t think he meant--”

“No, Bill, he did,” Stan interrupted, “I don’t know what your game is, but if you hurt him…”

Richie put his hands up in surrender, “Hey, I’m not going to hurt him. He seems pretty strong anyways. I mean no harm.”

Stan didn’t look convinced at all. Fair enough.

The air between the two was tense, but Bill broke it by clearing his throat, “So, uh, will w-we see you at the p-p-party?”

Richie shook his head ‘no’, “Probably not. I have some more sophisticated plans lined up.”

a/n: hope you liked it! next chapter is p much all richie and eddie so get excited. if you enjoyed i would love hearing your feedback

oh and this is eddie’s gay hat if you were curious

#reddie #reddie fic #he's all that #my writing #it fic #yeah still have no idea how to tag this

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roachfurby · 7 years ago

Text

i was tagged by @i-nquisitor!! thank you so much!

Which BTS song means the most to you? whomst

How do you feel about astrology? I like the idea of astrology, but I don’t know that i really believe in it

Do you think ghosts exist? god i hope they do. when i die i want to be a ghost, so if they dont my whole life-retirement plan is fucked

What’s your favorite instrument? Piano! im biased bc I play it. I used to play clarinet in school as well, but my asthma made it hard to play and impossible to march, so i gave up. Didn’t like having the trumpet section bellowing directly into my ears much either lmao

Who was the last person to make you really smile? do fictional characters count?? bc dorian pavus is the light of my life and im doing his romance again

What do you do when you feel vulnerable? Get under my heated blanket and either sleep, read, or daydream. Usually daydream though, considering maladaptive daydreaming is a thing that i have and use as a coping mechanism

What is the last dream you had? You know that post i made about being a Worm Cop?? this one

Are you a nature person? Very, although I hardly ever have the chance to actually go out into nature bc of where i live. I’ll just have to be satisfied with photos for now

What’s your favorite thing to do to relieve stress? Play dragon age and/or design new characters! i have so many fictional children that I’ve got a binder full of character sheets for them.

Do you have any other blogs you’d like people to check out?

Not really. I plan on eventually starting a blog for my character aesthetics though!

Marvel, DC, or neither? I am a marvel man, though I really only care about the Avengers

What do you want out of 2018? I’d really like to overcome some of my social anxiety tbh?? it’s gotten worse since graduating and at this point i barely leave my house :’/

Do you hold grudges? unfortunately

Who is your favorite Disney hero/heroine? I really like Flynn Rider. He’s the most relatable character thus far imho.

Do you consider yourself a positive person? Absolutely not

What is something you love that’s underrated? Is dragon age underrated??? I hardly ever see anyone outside of the fandom even mention it’s existence. I feel like it got overshadowed by The Elder Scrolls (which I also love, but I think I’m more attached to DA)

What is your dream job? Forensic Analyst, specifically working in a morgue. I’ve wanted to be one since I was 10!

If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you? Somewhere in northeastern Washington or southwestern Canada, I think. Somewhere woodsy and kinda cold.

When was the last time you faced a fear and how did it go? Yesterday when I accepted a friend request from someone from one of my facebook groups. It went bad bc she started flirting with me immediately afterwards and idk how to say “I don’t want to talk to you and I’m deleting you from my friends list” in a nice friendly manner

Which would you prefer to read: poetry, fiction, or non-fiction? fiction! Specifically high fantasy!!

Where do you feel most at ease? the thing is that i don’t. i really do not feel at ease ever, anywhere. I am a spirit of stress and anxiety that was shoved into a flesh suit and told to try and act human

#tag #thanks for tagging me!!!

5 notes · View notes

anonymous-hopeful · 7 years ago

Text

Hopestuck

A fanfic with Danganronpa characters in Homestuck

I'm just going to post it all in one go, then update as needed.

Like and reblog, all that fun stuff

ACT ONE: THE BEGINNING

A young adult male stands alone in his room. He dons his zip-up hoodie, t-shirt, a pair of jeans, and sneakers. At first glance, this teenaged boy seems normal, completely ordinary, however, this is not so. For you see, atop his head is an ahoge, passed down from generation to generation. They say it's a mark of destiny. This boy will be known in history. This boy is extremely special. This boy...this boy is...

==> Name The Boy.

NAEGG MACOOKEM

...

"Actually, you're not that far off."

==>

NAEGI MAKOTO

"See? You were pretty close."

==>

Your name is NAEGI MAKOTO. Inside your dorm is your VARIETY OF INTRESTS, or rather, LACK THEREOF. You don't really have much in your room, as every time you try to decorate it, IT PUTS OUT THE WRONG MESSAGE ABOUT YOU. The message being you're an INTRESTING GUY. The only reason you're even in HOPE'S PEAK ACADEMY anyway was because of the LOTTERY YOU WON. By winning said lottery, you were awarded the title of ULTIMATE LUCKY STUDENT, and the entrace into ONE OF THE MOST PRESTEGIOUS SCHOOLS IN JAPAN. While you try to FIT IN, you can't help but be intimidated by the other students who are TRULY TALENTED. Thankfully, someone connected you to CHAT-CHAN, a chat-room application that some students here use. You've made some friends under your CHANHANDLE, HopefulEgg. Unfortunately, you're too shy to talk to them in real life.

What will you do now?

==> Makoto: Examine your fetch modus.

Fetch modus? Oh yeah. That was the storage device you recieved when you came in on the first day. You look at your FETCH MODUS. It's the LUCK MODUS, of course. Once something goes in, whether or not comes out is up to sheer luck. You've avoided using the capchalouge cards for it. You don't need anything important getting stuck in the sylladex.

==> Makoto: Examine your strife specibus.

Strife specibus? Oh yeah. That was the weopon specializer you recieved when you came in the first day. You have the REVOLVERKIND, filled with a large supply of TRUTH BULLETS. You've avoided using that, too. Guns are dangerous, and you're no marksman.

==>

"Uwuu! Someone wants to chat with you!☆"

Looks like Chat-chan's alerting you.

==> Makoto: Chat.

MysteriousRamen [MR] began chatting with HopefulEgg [HE]

MR: Are you available at the moment?

HE: as of now, yes. whats up?

MR: I was wondering if you had taken notes from today's lesson.

HE: yeah, i always do that, why, do you need them?

MR: If we were able to meet up somewhere on campus, yes.

HE: oh, i see what this is! you're not making me fall for it, ramen -.-

MR: What is that at the end?

HE: it's a squinty face. it enforces that i'm not falling for the trick.

MR: Sure it does.

HE: :)

MR: I don't understand why you are so self conscious. Surely after our many chats, you will have become more confident.

HE: i have! a little...

MR: Would you at least tell me your name?

HE: eh...why don't you go first?

MR: I inquired first.

HE: still, i'm not ready!

MR: Then my identity shall remain hidden as well.

HE: fine by me.

MR: Seriously though, I do need the notes.

HE: don't worry, i'll send them via internet file.

HE: IMPORTANTNOTES.jpg

MR: Thank you. This will work tremendously in my investigation.

HE: what investigation?

MR: ...

MysteriousRamen [MR] ceased chatting with HopefulEgg [HE]

==>

You hope that investigation had good intentions behind it.

==>

*a knock at the door*

==> Makoto: Answer knock.

No one's on the other side, however, there are two envelopes left in their wake.

==> Makoto: Pick up envelopes.

You pick up the envelopes and look atbthe packaging. On each one, the logo for a game called SBURB in printed, but underneath, the text either says server or client. You have a vauge idea who left these at your dorm. After all, he's the only one that knows who you are.

==> Makoto: Chat with you-know-who.

HopefulEgg [HE] began chatting with CookiecutterPepsicola [CP]

HE: hey, did you leave these disks outside my dorm?

==>

You end up waiting a pretty long time. Eventually, you give up on the guy.

"SBURB...I wonder what it is..."

==> Makoto: Ask about SBURB.

You examine your chatmate list.

MysteriousRamen

WealthyLiterary

PsychoticLovestruck

CrystalClairvoyant

WaterloggedSprinkle

SeriouslyTalentless

OccultNobility

CookiecutterPepsicola

FamishedOlympian

HomicidalBabyface

Other than CookiecutterPepsicola, you're not sure who would have any idea about this game. You decide to take to the internet for this one.

==>

You find nothing. Literally nothing. Does this game even exist?!

==>

MysteriousRamen

WealthyLiterary

PsychoticLovestruck

CrystalClairvoyant

WaterloggedSprinkle

SeriouslyTalentless

OccultNobility

●CookiecutterPepsicola

FamishedOlympian

HomicidalBabyface

Looks like he's on now.

==>

HopefulEgg [HE] began chatting with CookiecutterPepsicola [CP]

HE: hey, did you leave these disks outside my dorm?

CP: Yeh. Cool, right?

HE: if i knew what it was, sure.

CP: Yer gonna find out soon enough. Along with the others.

HE: others?

CP: Mmhmm. It's all part of my plan.

HE: so you made this?

CP: Sorta. Some of th' stuff I got from this random guy that keeps botherin me.

HE: aw man. internet troll?

CP: Self proclaimed too.

HE: don't you know to just leave those guys alone?

CP: That's just it. He won't, and every time I block 'im, it seems ta override.

HE: :O

CP: I guess th' guy ain't that bad. Though, I guess I get some weird feelin's from 'im. Like...he's flirtin or somethin.

HE: :(

CP: Hold on. He's on now. I gotta get back ta ya.

CookiecutterPepsicola [CP] ceased chatting with HopefulEgg [HE]

==>

You're amazed. You can't believe that guy blew you off to indulge some internet troll. You almost feel offended. Actually, you do. Then again, you're not that surprised. He's a quirky guy.

==> Point of View: Switch.

Wait a minute! We're not done with this guy yet! There's so much more to...oh.

It appears the point of view switches anyway. Bummer.

ACT ONE: POINT OF VIEW SWAP

A serious, dignified, and one might even say stoic girl stands in the middle of her dorm. The lavender-haired lass is wearing her dark purple jacket, paired with a tie, black gloves, heeled boots, a skirt, and a small bow in a single braid. One look at this lady, and you know she means business, and even though her lips are sealed, she's examining, analyzing, studying, completely aware of her surroundings, and that you're looking at her. Maybe you should guess her name.

==> Guess her name.

CUP O' FANSERVICE NOODLES

...

"You couldn't possibly have done worse."

==>

KIRIGIRI KYOKO

Yeah. That's it. She wonders why you didn't get it sooner.

==>

Your name is KIRIGIRI KYOKO. You go to HOPE'S PEAK ACADEMY as the ULTIMATE DETECTIVE. As expected, you've got quite a bit of DETECTIVE MERCHANDICE in your room. A POSTER OF YOUR FAVORITE DETECTIVE here, a NANCY DREW BOOK there, and and old-timey DETECTIVE OUTFIT hanging in your closet. Your FATHER got that for you when you were accepted in. Your father, of course, is KIRIGIRI JIN, the HEADMASTER of Hope's Peak. He's a pretty good father, you think, when he's not being a total nerd. Quite recently, you took on another case, except instead of finding a MURDERER, you're trying to figure out who's on the end of each CHANHANDLE. Just saying, you all claim to go to Hope's Peak. The least you all could do is talk IN REAL LIFE. Still, you communicate with them under your own chanhandle, MysteriousRamen.

What will you do?

==> What are those notebooks on the floor?

Nothing. They're not important.

==> What's on that corkboard over there?

You sure are nosy.

==> What-

Before you can finish, she snaps up the item in her sylladex. Even if you wanted to see it, it'd only be a photo-copy. This is the CLUE MODUS. The only way to truly get the item would be to follow the clues on the back of the card. Only the wisest of detectives use this modus.

==> What about-

Once again cutting you off, she pulls out a SHIV, which was stored in her KNIFEKIND. She thinks it'll get you to stop. She's right.

==> Kyoko: Continue investigation.

You go on your computer and examine all of your files. You've managed to get majority of your chans to send over something with their handwriting on it. You just need two more submissions, then some difinitive answers can come up.

==> Kyoko: Have that conversation with HopefulEgg.

You have that conversation with HopefulEgg. The one where you asked for a picture of their notes. They were apprehensive at first, but the mission was a victory. The next nut got a tougher shell to crack...

==> Kyoko: Chat with WealthyLiterary.

MysteriousRamen [MR] began chatting with WealthyLiterary [WL]

MR: If it doesn't bother you, I'd like to ask you a favor.

WL: Fun fact: I don't do favors.

MR: Fun fact: this is important.

WL: ...

WL: Fine. Make it quick. I have better things to do.

MR: Of course. Could you send me a handwritten document via comupter?

WL: Excuse me?

MR: There is an extreme emergency within Hope's Peak.

WL: You're bluffing.

MR: I'm as serious as a heart attack.

WL: If you're being serious, you'll tell me what's happening.

MR: Gladly. It seems a thief in in this school, and they leave notes behind every time they steal. I'm examining everyone's handwriting.

WL: Either this is true, or you're the Ultimate Liar.

MR: I couldn't be. They graduated last year.

WL: ...

WL: You've barely convinced me.

MR: Funny. Everyone else submitted a document. You are the first to downright refuse. This could cut out inveatigation all together. You must be the culprit.

WL: What? Impossible. I'd never stoop so low as to resort to thievery.

MR: Tell it to the judge.

WL: You really are serious about this, aren't you?

MR: As a heart attack, like I said.

MR: Now, either send me a document, or face jail time. Your choice.

WL: Give me a moment.

MR: (Time Lapse)

WL: Very mature.

MR: ; :)

MR: I try.

WL: Writtendocument.jpg

WL: There. Are you satisfied?

MR: Quite.

WL: Thank goodness.

WealthyLiterary [WL] ceased chatting to MysteriousRamen [MR]

==>

"That guy's a total douche."

==>

What? He is!

==>

That also wasn't a lie. Technically, there is a theif.

==>

And they've stolen your heart.

==>

You enjoy chatting with them. Whoever they are...

==>

HopefulEgg...

==> Kyoko: Begin deeper investigation.

You pull up each file. You begin to try and decode each sample. To aid in this, you take out the (completed and graded) essays you've stolen from the classroom. The investigation is-

==> Knock knock.

Who's there? You decide to go check.

==> No one.

Of course. Practical jokery, ha ha. You're so mad about the jape you almost don't see the two envelopes on the ground.

==> Kyoko: Pick them up.

You pick them up, just like it says.

"SBURB, huh?"

==>

Looks like a game of some sort. One's marked Server, and the other is marked Client. You were never big on video games, but this one seems intresting. You decide to consult your local techie.

==> Kyoko: Consult your local techie.

MysteriousRamen [MR] began chatting with CookiecutterPepsicola [CP]

MR: SBURB, huh?

CP: What?

MR: Oh nothing. I would just like to know what's your aim in this game you've created.

CP: There ain't an aim in this. I just want everyone ta play it.

MR: It surprises me that you could purchace this for me.

CP: I didn't. I made it with the help of some internet troll.

MR: Oh?

CP: Now I know what yer thinkin, an' no, he ain't some creep.

MR: How does he describe himself?

CP: Um...it's weird.

MR: I'm sure I've heard weirder.

CP: He says he's an amethyst blooded, sea dwelling troll with a love for lusi, whatever those are.

MR: Intresting.

CP: Also, as rude as he usually is, I think he's bein' flirty. Endin every statement with ♡♤.

MR: Oh really?

CP: Yeah. He says he's fanscinated wit me.

MR: Hmm. Now that I think about it, a random person has began messaging me as well. Though I never indulge them.

CP: I suggest it. The guy I got's not bad.

MR: I will consider.

MysteriousRamen [MR] ceased chatting with CookiecutterPepsicola [CP]

==>

"Uwaa! ☆"

Speaking of...

==>

treblemakingSongbird [TS] began trolling MysteriousRamen [MR]

TS: Are you on? <(^^)

TS: Please don't block me again. It took our tech troll over an hour to decode the system. <(UU)

MR: Not this time.

TS: >(' ')!

==> Random Douchebag: Appear out of nowhere.

Oh boy. Here we go again.

ACT ONE: Who's this douchebag?

A random douchbag appeared. You examine him a bit. Straight-laced green suit, perfecty styled blonde hair, expensive looking glasses, and a narssicistic scowl on his face. All doubt leaves your mind; this guy really is a douchebag. Textbook definition of the term. If you looked up that word in the dictionary, there would be no words, only this guy's photo. He looks at you and raises a disapproving eyebrow. He wants you to guess his name. Actually, he expects you to know it already. What a prick.

==> INSUFFERABLE DOUCHEPRICK.

He says he's not going to acknowledge the degrading name you gave him.

==> TOGAMI BYAKUYA.

He nods a bit in approval. You guess that's who he is.

==>

Your name is TOGAMI BYAKUYA. As Hope's Peak's ULTIMATE AFFLUENT PROGENCY, you plan on letting everyone know YOU'RE IN CHARGE, and that you're basically BETTER THAN EVERYONE. In your dorm, you have decorated with EXTREMELY EXPENSIVE STATUES, BOOKS, AND FURNATURE, and in your closet is a wide variety of EXTREMELY EXPENSIVE SUITS. That's how rich you are. Of course, such is expected of the next owner of the TOGAMI CONGLOMERATE, one of Japan's BIGGEST BUSINESSES. You admit, you spent a long time working up to that level, and there's NO WAY YOU'RE BACKING DOWN. You also admit that you only went to Hope's Peak to see if anyone was as COMPETENT AS YOU. The only one that came close was the ULTIMATE PRINCESS. Well, also that really quiet guy, but that's for an ENTIRELY DIFFERENT REASON. Still, you do frequently chat with these lowly classmates of yours on Chat-chan, via your Chanhandle, WealthyLiterary.

==>

Because he knew you were about to ask, he demonstrates his CREDIT CARD MODUS for you. When an item is captchalouged, the card must be swiped on order for the item to be freed. It's reserved for only the rich, he tells you. You don't particuallarly care.

==>

He now takes the time to show off his MEGAPHONEKIND. A pull of the trigger releases an electric blast. As much as you don't want to care, you have to agree it's pretty cool.

==>

"Uwuu! Someone wants to chat with you!☆"

==>

"If it's her, I swear...".

==> Byakuya: Is it her?

No it's not. It seems that MysteriousRamen wanted to chat.

==> Byakuya: Chat against your better judgement.

You chat against your better judgement. The conversation wasn't all that bad. Seems that there's a thief in the school. You hope they get caught. You don't need any of your precious items stolen.

==> *Knock knock*

You hope this isn't the set-up of an incredibly juvenile joke.

==> Byakuya: Check the door.

That doesn't seem to be the case. You do have mail, however.

==> Byakuya: Examine mail.

SBURB Beta. Sounds like a video game. You don't do video games.

==>

"Uwuu! ☆"

==>

OH GOD, IT'S HER.

==> Byakuya: Attempt to deter.

PsychoticLovestruck [PL] began chatting with WealthyLiterary [WL]

PL: Byakuya...

WL: Go away.

PL: I swear, I-I'm not hitting on you this time! O~O

WL: Leave me alone.

PL: I'm being s-serious! OnO

WL: Fine, but if you even attempt to make a pass at me, I will hit block user.

PL: I understand...

PL: Did you...happen to recieve any mail?

WL: Please don't tell me this is yours.

PL: W-what? No! Ò.Ó

WL: Then yes. I happened to recieve two envelopes today for SBURB Beta.

PL: Was there both a server and client disk?

WL: Yes. Why do you ask?

PL: I recieved one too...

WL: Odd. I don't remember anyone even mentioning this game.

PL: I can say for certain that this isn't your everyday game...

WL: Elaborate.

PL: I chatted with Cookiecutter earlier. He says he made it with some help.

WL: Oh, really?

PL: He plans on all of us playing it. H-he says it'll be fun O*O

WL: Are you sure he didn't send this to me on accident?

PL: He gave one to everybody. He seems passionate about it, so...m-maybe I'll give it a go.

WL: You? Playing a video game?

PL: I-it would help me socialize.

PL: Whether or not you play is up to you.

PsychoticLovestruck [PL] ceased chatting with WealthyLiterary [WL]

==>

Wow. You almost can't believe it. You actually had a normal conversation with her. As for this game, you're thinking about playing it, but you aren't quite sure.

==>

"Uwuu!☆"

==>

gothicSnakeeyes [GS] began trolling WealthyLiterary [WL]

GS: Play the game, douchebag ;3

gothicSnakeeyes [GS] ceased trolling WealthyLiterary [WL]

==>

Great. Now internet trolls are after you. You dismiss the person watching to deal with with the troll.

==> Person watching: Watch someone else.

...

OH GOD, IT'S HER.

ACT ONE: OH GOD, IT'S HER

OH GOD IT'S HER. Large round glasses, uneasy smirk, two neat braids, conservative clothing. Wait. Why are you so upset? This seems like a nice, civiliized lady. What could possibly be wrong with her? She says nothing, then looks away slightly. So shy...you'd be pretty surprised if this girl turned out to be a serial killer or something. She just says nothing. Hmm...

==> PROBABLY A SERIAL KILLER.

She cringes at the name.

==> FUKAWA TOUKO

She cringes at that one too, but slightly less.

==>

Your name is FUKAWA TOUKO. As Hope's Peak's ULTIMATE AUTHOR, you're expected to be SOCIABLE AND CHARISMATIC, but in reality, you're very SOCIALLY AWKWARD. You AVOID PEOPLE often, and REFUSE TO SPEAK UNLESS SPOKEN TO. In your dorm, you have BOOKS, PAPER, AND PENCILS scattered about, and posters of HOT GUYS hang on your walls. You're a bit of a PERVERT when it comes to some things, but you do speciallize in ROMANCE NOVELS, so you have a bit of an excuse. Those excuses don't help when you're caught STALKING YOUR CRUSHES, however, which, unfortunately happen often. The current guy you have your eyes on just happens to be HOT, but a HUGE DOUCHE, just the way you like them. In spite of not being able to socialize in real life, you tend to chat on Chat-chan, under the chanhandle PsychoticLovestruck.

==> Touko: Fetch Modus, please.

Your fetch modus is the LIBRARY MODUS. When an item is captured, it turns into a book, and is stored into the sylladex. In order to access it again, you have to read the book, which is essentally a novel about that item. It's actually some pretty good material.

==> Touko: How about that strife specibus?

That? It's equipped with SCISSORKIND, it seems. She doesn't seem to want to touch it...

==> *Knock*

You wonder why they only knocked once. You're a bit offended by this. It doesn't seem like they're there anymore, so you decide to do something else.

==> Touko: Feed your stinkbug.

You feed your stinkbug. You found her when you were young. Her name is Kameko. You keep her in your dorm because everyone complains of her stench, but you don't care. Aftet all, she understands you better than anyone. If anything, you and that stinkbug are in it for the long haul.

==> Touko: Who knocked?

It seems that whoever was there has left something behind. Two somethings actually. You pick them up and instantly know who left them.

==> Touko: Chat to who left them.

PsychoticLovestruck [PS] began chatting with CookiecutterPepsicola [CP]

PL: Is this...what you've been w-working on?

CP: Cool, right?

PL: What is it exactly?

CP: A game. Once I finish deliverin em, we're gonna play.

PL: Um...

CP: What's up?

PL: I don't...really d-do video games...ÕnÕ

CP: You'll enjoy this one. It'll be fun.

PL: ...what's i-it about?

CP: I don't fully know. I got some help from my troll friend.

PL: Ugh, I hate internet trolls. T-they make so much trouble.

CP: This one's good, don't worry. He's real helpful.

PL: S-so...the game?

CP: All I know is that we can like, manipulate out enviroments and shit. Plus, we need to use both the server an client disk.

PL: Manipulate environments? L-like a simulator, or...?

CP: I think the guy meant in reality.

PL: OõO

CP: Yeah, pretty awesome.

PL: I-i admit, I'm on board...

CP: I'm proud o ya! I'mma go make more deliveries.

PL: I guess I'll chat with you l-later...

PsychoticLovestruck [PL] ceased chatting with CookiecutterPepsicola [CP]

==>

You think you want to inform your crush about this...

==>

"Uwuu! ☆"

==>

...and here's a sidetracker.

==> Touko: Answer sidetracker.

CrystalClairvoyant [CC] began chatting with PsychoticLovestruck [PL]

CC: YOO, TOUKO!

CC: DID U JUST GET A GAME?

CC: PLZ SAY YES! (☆)

PL: Yes...

CC: GOOD, I'M SEEIN' THINGS RIGHT THEN.

PL: Huh?

CC: WE'RE ALL GONNA PLAY THIS GAME, RIGHT? BUT IT'S SO MUCH MORE, LIKE, I CAN'T EVEN.

PL: Really? Ø.Ø

CC: DON'T SLANTY EYE ME!

CC: DUDE, I SAW METEORS CRASHIN INTO THE SCHOOL!

CC: AND LIKE, THESE COOL PJS

CC: PJS, TOUKO

PL: Remind me why I'm on the recieving end of this?

CC: You sound like Kyoko, smh.

CC: You were the first one I saw on my dash.

PL: Even still...why w-would I care?

CC: I'm at least 33% correct...

PL: Chat with me when you're not acting like a lunatic.

CC: BUT

PsychoticLovestruck [PL] blocked CrystalClairvoyant [CC]

==>

You'll unblock the guy when you're done chatting with Byakuya.

==> Touko: Think about cool pjs.

What? You already know about the cool pjs. At least in your dreams. You've even chronicled your adventures in the dream world. You can't help it. The ominous purple aura really brings out your creative side. In fact, it's inspired a good chunk of your stories. You kinda wonder if that guy's there too. After all, you've seen Kyoko, Byakuya, and a few others there too. Sound asleep, but there. You wonder if they'll awaken soon. Maybe you'll tell this to the crazy guy. Well, after chatting with Byakuya.

==> Touko: Chat with Byakuya.

You chat with Byakuya. He doesn't block you, and actually, he seems to listen to you this time. Maybe there is a chance...

"Uwuu! ☆"

"Huh?"

==>

trippyPillpopper [TP] began trolling PsychoticLovestruck [PL]

TP: *please talk to me* ]:'(

trippyPillpopper [TP] was blocked by PsychoticLovestruck [PL]

==>

You don't need any of this troll mess. You just can't deal with it. Instead, you go to bathe. After all, if you're going to be social, you might as well smell nice.

==> Veiwer: Considerately view someone else.

You considerately view someone else. Touko appreciates it, but now a random wierdo seems to be freaking out at your sudden arrival.

ACT ONE: RANDOM WEIRDO

A random weirdo looks at you. You look at a random weirdo. His hair sticks up in all directictions, he has the slightest beard stubble, and he gives off a very strong hobo aura. He also looks too old to even be in this school...and you'd be right. Then again, he was never the brightest bulb.

==> TAKE ME TO YOUR LEADER.

Okay, whoa. Calm down man, it was a joke. Just a joke...um...

It doesn't look like he's calming down anytime soon.

==> HAGAKURE YASUHIRO

" Huh?"

==>

Your name is HAGAKURE YASUHIRO. As Hope's Peak's ULTIMATE CLAIRVOYANT, you...don't really do much. Often, you'll offer to READ PALMS, and SEE INTO ONE'S FUTURE, but the STEEP PRICE usually turns others away. In your dorm, you have everything a shaman needs, CATCHY POSTERS, INTERESTING ARTIFACTS, and GIMMICKS GALORE. You would think that a BUSINESSMAN LIKE YOURSELF would stay out of SERIOUS TROUBLE, but it seems that a CERTAIN YAKUZA has a large TARGET ON YOUR BOUNTY. You haven't left your room since. Luckily, your classmates can supply you your work through Chat-chan, under the clever chanhandle CrystalClairvoyant.

==> Yasuhiro: Consult your fetch modus.

You have the CRYSTAL BALL MODUS. Rather than captchalouging spare items for later use, your modus captchalouges random items that you'll need for later use sometime in the future. Sometimes it's the near future, and others, practically months. It also doesn't help that you can't captchalouge immediately.

...looks like the crystal ball has sent a hamburger. Sweet!

==>

Whoops. It got stuck in that extra strife specibus card the crystal ball sent earlier. Now you have a FOODKIND to go along with your MAGICKIND. The MAGICKIND has a WAND inside. You haven't figured out how to work that yet, but when you do, all kinds of cool stuff's gonna happen.

==>

At least you have a use for the specibus portfolio you got months ago.

Hey, what's in the crystal ball now?

==> Yasuhiro: Look inside.

It looks like a copy of a game. Two copies of a game actually. Those had to be coming your way eventually. After all, the crystal ball modus knows all. Once you retrieve the card from the sylladex, you take the copies of the game and examine them. SBURB Beta, server and client copies. You haven't heard of this game before. It must be new on the market. You decide to see what it has in store via your clairvoyant powers.

==> Yasuhiro: See.

You take out the disks and hold them in your hands. Closing your eyes, you begin to see new, complex contraptions around your room. A hail of meteors rain outside, but then the scene shifts to a beautiful planet with little chameleons running around. At a moment, the scene blacks out, and you're on a planet of gold. You're wearing some pretty cool pjs.

==>Yasuhiro: Drop the disks.

You gently set the disks down. After that exclusive preview, you don't want those disks destroyed. Wait. It occurs to you...

"I GOTTA TELL SOMEONE ABOUT THIS!!"

==> Yasuhiro: Tell someone about this.

You tell someone about this! Unfortunately, they block you. Oh well. At least she listened to the majority of your spiel.

==>

"Uwuu!☆"

Oh boy.

==>

punkrockBallpark [PB] began trolling CrystalClairvoyant [CC]

PB: get hacked

CC: Nooo

PB: nice line driver t⊙ y⊙ur c⊙mputer

PB: tech tr⊙ll hit a h⊙me run

CC: Leave me be ;_;

PB: i've tr⊙lled y⊙u this l⊙ng, what makes y⊙u think i'm st⊙pping n⊙w?

CC: Why must you terrorize me so?

PB: eh, i'm b⊙red. my kismesis is ⊙ut d⊙ing whatever, s⊙ i'm just kinda here

CC: Kismesis?

PB: wh⊙⊙ps. i mean ⊙ne ⊙f y⊙ur human b⊙y/girlfriends

CC: In this case?

PB: b⊙yfriend

PB: Out there flying and shit

PB: y⊙u aren't dead, g⊙⊙d f⊙r y⊙u

PB: but it makes me hate him m⊙re, s⊙ i can't c⊙mplain

CC: Why do you want to hate your boyfriend ( ? )

PB: y⊙u're g⊙nna have t⊙ wait f⊙r that talk

CC: You realize I may be older than you...?

PB: i'm 9 sweeps

PB: translate it y⊙urself

punkrockBallpark [PB] ceased trolling CrystalClairvoyant [CC]

==>

You have no idea what sweeps are.

==> Yasuhiro: Ask someone what sweeps are.

CrystalClairvoyant [CC] began chatting with WaterloggedSprinkle [WS]

CC: Do you know what a sweep is?

WS: Something a broom does ~u~

CC: Haha! Nice. Seriously tho.

WS: No...I'll find out though.

==>

How rude. You came in just as she was about to find out.

ACT ONE: WELL, FIND OUT.

She looks around. She may have forgotten what she was doing already. Oh well, at least we can get on with the intro. A swirled ponytail, athletic clothing, and an inordinate amount of donut boxes? Certainly contradictory, but she seems to be in great shape, so you don't judge her. She offers you a donut. You would take it if you could reach through the screen. She apologizes, then eats the donut herself. You feel like you know this young lady's name...

==> DOUBLE D...ONUTS...

Nice save there.

==> ASAHINA AOI

"Hehe! Yeah!".

==>

Your name is ASAHINA AOI. You go to school at Hope's Peak Academy under the title of ULTIMATE SWIMMER. You do admit to feeling like a fish at times. Anyway, in your dorm is EVERYTHING YOU POSSIBLY NEED, including VARIOUS PLUSHIES, GIFTS FROM YOUR LITTLE BROTHER, AN AQUARIUM, A COMPUTER, and of course, DONUTS. LOTS OF THEM. You love donuts like crazy. Almost as much as you love swimming. You learned the hard way not to mix eating donuts and swimming. As much as you enjoy being at Hope's Peak, you miss having your old friends around, as NO ONE IS PASSIONATE AS SWIMMING AS YOU ARE. Maybe someday soon, you'll have a friend who ENJOYS A GOOD SWIM LIKE YOU DO. It would be nice. For now, at least, you chat with the friends you have on Chat-chan, under the chanhandle WaterloggedSprinkle.

==> Bzzz.

You look at an annoying fly and decide to use your BUBBLEKIND against it. A swift blow traps the fly in a large bubble. And they said that bubbles would be useless.

==>

You decide to captchalouge the bubbled fly in your HYDRATION MODUS. Basically, the cards in the sylladex are dehydrated, and in order to use an item, you need to put the card in some water. This usually backfires when you go for a swim in the school's pool.

==> Aoi: Isn't there supposed to be a knock now?

Nope. That happened a few minutes ago. At your door, you found two envelopes containing the game Sburb inside. You don't play video games often, but you think that this one's worth playing. At least it looks cool.

==> Aoi: Ahem?

What?

==> Aoi: Didn't you have a prior engagement?

Oh, that's right! You had to find out what the heck a sweep was. You think you may know someone who has that info.

==> Aoi: Chat with the troll.

WaterloggedSprinkle [WS] began chatting with muscularProtienshake [MP]

WS: Heey.

WS: Would you happen to know what a sweep is?

MP: J(`v')J "why, yes, i do.".

MP: f(`o')J " a sweep is a year in alternia."

MP: h('v~)h "though it takes about two of your human years"

WS: Ooh, thank you!

MP: y(~v~)y

WaterloggedSprinkle [WS] ceased chatting with muscularProteinshake [MP]

==>

WS: Hey, Yasuhiro?

WS: A sweep is about two human years.

CC: Good. Now I have to deal with this punk troll.

CrystalClairvoyant [CC] ceased chatting with WaterloggedSprinkle [WS]

==>

Well that's that-

"Uwuu!☆"

==>

CookiecutterPepsicola [CP] began chatting with WaterloggedSprinkle [WS]

CP: Hey Aoi. Pay attention. I have some instructions for ya.

WS: Go on.

CP: You need ta be the first server player.

WS: For Sburb?

CP: Yeh. You connect to Makoto, who'll connect to Kyoko, who'll connect to Byakuya, who'll connect to Touko, who'll connect to Yasuhiro, then he to you.

WS: Wait, why are we splitting up?

CP: From what I know, we're still gonna end up in the same session. By doin it like this, it should take a shorter time to get started.

CP: Essentially, I should be the last player in.

WS: I think I may understand. Should I communicate this to Makoto?

CP: I reccomend it. Also, start running your server copy. It takes a while for it to load.

WS: Got it! Thanks, Cookie!

CP: Ey, ain't nothin!

==>

You decide to keep him on in case you need help. After all, were doing this man. Were making this happen.

ACT ONE: WERE DOING THIS

==>

A young troll is travelling in the vast expanses of space. He has finished playing his session quite a while ago, and he was one of few in his session who went god teir...though he had to in order to live through his session, for he was on the brink of death when he entered his land. Assisting him is another troll who went god teir, as well as a consort from his land. The troll himself is the Page of Time, his assistant the Rouge of Life, and the consort so generously named Delegate Hornliza. At once, this troll stops what he's doing, and rushes back to home, or at least what he and many others call home now. The reason? Another session is about to start, and he swore to guard a certain player...

==> Aoi: Communicate with Makoto.

WaterloggedSprinkle [WS] began chatting with HopefulEgg [HE]

WS: Hey Makoto, good news!

HE: what is it?

WS: You get to be the first client player! How cool is that?

HE: pretty cool, i guess. cookiecutter tell you this?

WS: Yep, and I'm your server player!

HE: ah, sweet! do i enter in the disk or...

WS: Yeah, just put it in your computer. It should instantly hook you up to my server program.

==> Makoto: Insert the disk.

You put the disk in. Just like Aoi said, it connects to her server.

==>

HE: i have confirmation we're connnected.

WS: Oh cool, I can see you!

HE: wait what?

WS: You're the shy new guy? I would have never guessed!

HE: ...thanks.

WS: Okay...lets see. We start with a cruxtruder, alchemiter, totem lathe, and punch card designix, as well as some extra captchalouge cards.

WS: You may want to move some stuff out of the way.

HE: why?

==> Aoi: Deploy Cruxtruder.

*BANG*

==>

WS: That answer your question?

HE: i got it. so what's this do?

WS: It apparently deploys an unlimited amount of cruxite dowels according to this instruction pamplet Cookiecutter included. If you can get it opened.

HE: how am i gonna manage that? i'm kinda short...and weak.

WS: Wait, I have an idea!

==> Aoi: Act on your idea.

Using your cursor, you pick up Makoto's bed. He seems to be in protest of this idea, but you continue on nonetheless. After holding it directly over the Cruxtruder, you drop it on top. The bed almost breaks in half, but the Cruxtruder is now open. A small, flashy thing flies out as well.

==>

HE: um, aoi? any idea what that is?

WS: Consulting Cookiecutter's guide...it's a ...kernelsprite. try putting something in it.

==> Makoto: Put something in it.

You look around. There doesn't seem to be much you want to prototype in the Kernelsprite. A ton of stuff from the school shop, but...oh wait. You remember that pinned butterfly you got from a nature museum. Papillio xuthus, or something. You decide to grab the case, remove the lid, and toss the butterfly into the sprite.

*Swift Toss!*

The Kernelsprite and the dead butterfly fuse, creating the Butterflysprite.

==>

HE: okay, what was the significance of that?

WS: You'll see later. For now, get a cruxite dowel from the cruxtruder by operating the crank.

==> Makoto: Operate the crank.

You push the crank with all of your might...just a bit more strength ought to do it...and...nope. Nothing. Nice try, Macookem.

==> Aoi: Pity assist.

You pity assist Makoto. With the magic of the cursor, you push the crank and extract a cruxite dowel.

==>

HE: what's next?

WS: The...totem lathe. Clear some room, Makoto!

HE: alright, alright!

==> Makoto: Clear some room.

You remove some random items from the floor in order to make room for the Totem Lathe.

==>

WS: Whoops...

HE: what now?

WS: The totem lathe isn't going to do much without the punched capchalouge card.

HE: so we need the designix?

WS: Actually, there's a pre-punched card included.

HE: oh good. also...what's this countdown for?

WS: What's it set for?

HE: four hours and thirteen minutes now.

WS: I think we'll be fine. I'm dropping the punched card in now.

==> Makoto: Examine the pre-punched card.

Yep. That card's punched alright.

==>

WS: Now put the cruxite dowel into the lathe and slide the card into the scanner.

==> Makoto: Do what she said.

You do what she said. The Totem Lathe carves the dowel into an intricate totem. These things are appropriately named.

==> *CRASH*

WS: What was that??

HE: i...don't know :(

==> *CRASH*

WS: I think something's happening outside.

HE: should i check?

WS: No. I have to get you into the session so you can connect to Kyoko. I'll probably check it later though.

HE: okay. so i have the dowel carved. what do i do now?

WS: I need to put in the alchemiter. This will read the code on the totem and create an item that you'll need to utilize in order to enter your session.

HE: oh, okay. let me make more space.

==> Makoto: Make more space.

You scoot your bed over to the side of the room, then oush aside some random items. That should be enough.

==> Aoi: Deploy Alchemiter.

You place the Alchemiter in the area Makoto cleared.

==>

WS: Boom! Alchemiter!

HE: so just put the totem on the pedistal and press a few buttons?

WS: That's pretty much it!

==> Makoto: Use the Alchemiter.

It takes a moment, but the device eventually scans the dowel and makes...a flower. You think you know what to do...

==>

You pick up the flower by its pot and turn to face Butterflysprite. It slowly flies toward it, then sticks out it's proboscsis and drinks the nectar. As Butterflysprite drinks, a white light consumes Makoto. As he enters the session, the troll waits for the right time to communicate. After all, one slip up could make the difference.

==> ACT ONE: WITHIN THE MEDIUM

==>

A HALCYON EASTGOER travels upons the vast expanses of dry, deserted land. He doesn't know where he's going, or where he'll end up. All he knows is that he'll be there soon.

==> Makoto: Communicate with Aoi

HE: so...that happened.

WS: I can't believe this! You're literally in the game!

HE: yeah, so is my room...which is miss a couple walls.

WS: I'd be able to build on it if we had more build grist.

HE: build grist?

WS: The stuff you need to build on to your dorm. Looks like you're gonna need a lot.

HE: amazing. just perfect. how do i get grist?

WS: The pamphlet says you need to kill underlings and collect their spoils.

HE: underlings?

WS: Yep. They should be getting near you any moment.

HE: you realize i can't waste my time on this, right? i need to get whoever my client is into the session.

WS: I know. By the way, it's Kyoko.

HE: kyoko? oh...

WS: What?

HE: it's nothing.

WS: Mmhmm.

WS: The more you try to hide, the more obvious you are.

HE: :C

WS: Don't worry, I'll keep it a secret.

HE: what good is that gonna do? i like more than one person anyway.

WS: MAKOTO, BEHIND YOU!

==> Aoi: Squash the imp.

. . . *SQUISH*

"Did you have to use my Midnight Crew comics for that?!"

==> Makoto: Collect spoils.

Looks like you've gone up to six whole build grist. That's going to do absolutely nothing.

==>

WS: Okay, here's an idea. I'll fend off the imps while you connect to Kyoko.

HE: good idea.

WS: Team break!

==>

"E¥. ¥a jus up an' left me. \/\/hat the glub \/\/as that all about?"

"My 4p010g13s! 1 h4d a pr10r 3ng4g3m3n7 th4t c0u1d n0t b3 pu7 0n h01d!"

( My apologies! I had a prior engagement that could not be put on hold!)

"\/\/hat? I'm ¥er motherglubbin' matesprit, I am ¥er prior fingagement."

" Y3s, 1 4m w3ll 4w4r3 0f 0ur m4t3spr17sh1p, 8ut 7h1s c0u1d n0t w41t!"

(Yes, I am well aware of our matespritship, but this could not wait!)

"Bullshrimp."

"W47ch y0ur l4ngu4g3!"

(Watch your language!)

"Shell, if \/\/e \/\/ere still on Alternia, I'd be th' glubbin' emperor by no\/\/."

"Mmhmm, 4nd wh47 w0u1d b3c0m3 0f m3?"

(Mmhmm, and what would become of me?)

"¥a'd be my peasant-blooded matesprit, that's \/\/hat."

"Y0u kn0w 1 d0 n07 3nj0y 7h3 us3 0f 7h47 d3r0g4t0ry 73rm! 83s1d3s, 7h3 3n71r37y 0f 4173rn14 w0u1d r107! 4 fush14-b100d w1th 4 v3rm1111on! 1 c4n h34r 7the pr073s7s fr0m h3r3!"

(You know I do not enjoy the use of that derogatory term! Besides, the entirety of Alternia would riot! A fushia-blood with a vermillion! I can hear the protests from here!)

"The¥ couldn't do a glubbin' thing. ¥er the matesprit, not them."

"Y0u kn0w, H1s 1ns4n17y Crys7411ys4710n k1113d h1s H473m473. "

(You know, His Insanity Crystallization killed his Hatemate)

"His Insanity Crystallization also up and left the glubbin planet and...oh yeah, was a big, cod-suckin tyrant."

"7h47 1s n0 w4y 7o sp34k 0f H1s 1ns4n17y!"

(That is no way to speak of His Insanity!)

" ¥ou shoal about that?"

"...1 4dm17, 7h3y h4d 70 c411 h1m H1s 1ns4n17y f0r 4 r34s0n."

(I admit, they had to call him His Insanity for a reason.)

"Told ya."

"S7i11, 1 h4v3 4 k1sm3s1s b4ck 47 h0m3 7h47 1'v3 b4r31y p41d 4773nt710n 70, 4nd 7h3r3 1s s0me0n3 1 mus7 a773nd 70!"

(Still, I have a kismesis back at home that I've barely paid attention to, and there is someone I must attend to!)

"First of all, glub your kismesis, and second, \/\/e \/\/ere kinda in the middle of-"

"4s much 4s 1'd 11k3 70 dr4g 7h1s 0n, 1 mus7 134v3."

(As much as I'd like to drag this on, I must leave.)

"But-"

"W47ch 4f73r H0rn11z4 wh113 1'm 4w4y!"

(Watch after Hornliza while I'm away!)

"..."

".....fine...."

==> Makoto: Communicate with Kyoko

HopefulEgg [HE] began chatting with MysteriousRamen [MR]

HE: do you have your copies of the game ready?

MR: Yes. Yes I do.

HE: get ready for some intense instructions. when they you're going into the session, you're going into the session.

MR: Of course I will.

HE: alright, don't say i didn't warn you...

ACT ONE: SECOND PLAYER

==> Makoto: Run your server application.

==> Kyoko: Run your client application.

==>

HopefulEgg [HE] began chatting with MysteriousRamen [MR]

HE: alright, we should be connected now.

MR: Yes, I see the confirmation on the computer. What happens now?

HE: i have to put in some fancy techological junk into your room. by the way, i can see you

MR: ....

HE: anyway, you might want to clear some room, this stuff is pretty big

MR: Noted. You never told me who you were.

MR: By the way.

HE: oh yeah. um. later.

MR: Why am I not surprised?

HE: well, thats not important! what needs to happen now is that you successfully get into the session. right now, im going to put in this cruxtuder thing. when you open it, a kernelsprite will come out. it seems to like dead things, so put something dead in it.

MR: Will the bones of a desceased family member work?

MR: That being the example.

MR: I don't have any dead family member's bones...

HE: ...

HE: im just gonna put in these gizmos now...

==>

Meanwhile, years in the future, but not many, a Mindful Refuge finds herself roaming the expanses of a dry and sandy desert...

==>

In the same time, but different location, the Halcyon Eastgoer seems to have found some sort of shuttle. He messes around with it for a bit before finding a way to open the door. Curious, he wanders inside, only for the door to slam shut behind him. It seems that he will be stuck there for a while...

==> Page of Time: Is it time yet?

Oh, no no no. It's nowhere near time now! He hasn't even stepped foot on his land yet; how could it possibly be time yet? Besides, there's a specific system to this yet to happen chain of conversations...at least yet to happen for him. Man, you love these time shenanigans. Anyway, you decided that this would work like a clock; clockwise for him, counterclockwise for you. It's simple really; (12=1)(11=2)(10=3)(9=4)(8=5)(7=6)(6=7)(5=8)(4=9)(3=10)(2=11)(1=12). You're really looking forward to the 7=6 meetup. This meet, you two will talk in real life! At least, the one of you still on his timeline. Once again, thank you time shenanigans.

==> Rouge of Life: How's it hangin?

"Go glub ¥ourself."

Wow, rude.

==> Makoto and Kyoko: Any Progress?

Actually, yes. All Cruxtruder, Totem Lathe, and Alchemiter have been deployed, and the kernelsprite has been prototyped with a bee that had flown into it accidentally.

==> Kyoko: Add in a secret sauce.

What sauce? All you have is this box that may or may not have the bones of your father, the headmaster, who may or may not be dead.

==>

Swift toss!

==>

Beesprite is now Jinsprite.

==>

Makoto is now thouroughly weirded out.

==>

HE: uh...

MR: What?

HE: just...use the totem...

MR: You're judging me.

HE: yep

MR: At least you were honest.

==> Kyoko: Alchemize.

The carved totem creates...a box, with the word evidence engraved on the side. You've seen enough detective movies to know what to do with this.

==>

With a bit of effort, Kyoko lifts the box and carries it to her window. Staring outside, she notices that the weather has changed, and that there are a few craters in the distance. She decides to use this to her advantage, and toddes the box out of the window. Something comes outbof the sky and destroys it, maybe a meteor, but she does not see this happen, for as soon as the item was hot, she was transported into the session.

ACT ONE: Land of Snowstorms and Thought

==> Kyoko: Where are you?

She doesn't exactly know. Some of the walls on her room have vanished, and she is now quite cold. In the distance, she sees a whirl of flurries dance their way to the ground, and a group of shivering reptiles. One thing for sure; she isn't at Hope's Peak anymore.

==> Kyoko: Get in touch with the Egg.

MR: I'm cold.

HE: looks like you are.

MR: Is your place anything like this?

HE: nope. actually, it's called a medium. i think you may be on a specific land though.

MR: Interesting...perhaps you have yet to make it to your land?

HE: most likely. sprinkle's working on that though.

MR: Do you at least have walls?

HE: she's still on that. right now she's kinda protecting me from imps and stuff though so...

MR: Imps?

HE: oh yeah, stuff's going to try to attack you.

MR: Aren't I someone's server player?

HE: WL.

MR: That douche? Also, you could use names.

HE: i know, i'm just annoying you.

MR: Quite hilarious.

HE: :)

MR: It was a joke.

HE: :(

MR: So, what's your plan? Help WS get you to your land or keep back imps while I get WL in?

HE: which do you prefer?

MR: Honestly, I can hold my own. Though I am cold.

HE: are you sure?

MR: Yes. Help WS. I'll get WL in.

HE: alright, but keep me on standby.

MR: Will do.

==> Kyoko: Talk to Jinsprite.

Kyoko: So...how's being a ghost thing?

Jinsprite: I admit, not the first time I thought about thiszz.

Kyoko: Also, the bee thing..?

Jinsprite: Eh, it doeszzn't bother me. Though...how did you have my remainszz on hand?

Kyoko: The police let me keep them. I know, so irresponsible.

Jinsprite: I mean, I szzuppose it was foolish of me to partake in a volunteer zzspace expedition.

Kyoko: Without telling me.

Jinsprite: Yeah...at least I know szzome szztuff about this game.

Kyoko: Oh really? Like?

Jinsprite: Your land izzs called the Land of Szznowstormzzs and Thought.

Kyoko: Hmm...anything important about that name?

Jinsprite: Don't you have szzomething to do?

Kyoko: Ah, if there was anything I missed, it was your ability to hold a secret.

==> Kyoko: Chat with the Wealthy.

MysteriousRamen [MR] began chatting with WealthyLiterary [WL]

MR: Put in your disks.

WL: Time already?

MR: Oh yeah. Hurry up, I'm freezing here.

WL: What?

MR: You'll find out why later.

WL: Fine. I'm running them now. What else do I need to do?

MR: Clear some space in your room.

WL: What did Cookiecutter do now?

MR: I can certainly say it's something.

WL: Okay, my room has some cleared spaces.

MR: I see. Ah, so you are Byakuya.

WL: You can see me?

MR: Yes, just like Egg saw me, and Sprinkle saw Egg.

WL: Wait, I'm not the first one in the game?

MR: Nope. That was Egg.

WL: I'm slightly offended.

MR: When are you not? Whatever, we need to get started.

==> Makoto: How's the imp slaying?

This was the first time he used his specibus...and surprisingly, it's going well. At least imps are dying quicker, and grist can be collected quicker. Though, there's something about these...

==>

HE: hey, have you ever noticed these guys looking a bit odd?

WS: Uh, yeah. I checked Cookie's pamphlet. You know that stuff you put inside your sprite? I think everyone's affect what the imps look like.

HE: that's why they look like late principal kirigiri.

WS: Mixed with a butterfly and a bee. Seems like after entry prototypes don't affect them though. Is that a picture of your sister?

HE: yeah, why?

WS: Prototype Butterflysprite with it.

HE: uh, okay.

==>

*Swift Toss*

==>

Butterflysprite is now Komarusprite.

"Uh..."

"Hey bro!"

==> Makoto: Talk to Komarusprite.

Makoto: Could you help me with these imps?

Komarusprite: Sure.

Makoto: Also, is this really you or..?

Komarusprite: It's actually me! Mixed with a butterfly.

Makoto: But what about Earth?

Komarusprite: Actually...I kinda died...

Makoto: Huh?!

Komarusprite: These meteors were barreling down on us at home and while mom and dad got out I didn't...

Makoto: You say that like that's normal...

Komarusprite: I didn't feel anything when it happened. It just did. And now I'm here with you, as a ghosty thing!

Makoto: I guess that's a plus, but what about mom and dad?

Komarusprite: Well, um...huh.

Makoto: ...

Komarusprite: ...

Makoto: Let's just.. fight these guys.

Komarusprite: Yeah...

==> Page?

Everything's going delightfully to plan! It shouldn't be long now...

==> Kyoko and Byakuya?

WL: I'm sorry, what?

MR: Take Shinobu's ashes and put them in the Cricketsprite.

WL: You think I'm going to desecrate my half sister by tossing her ashes into some bug/sprite abomination?

MR: ',:)

WL: You disturb me.

MR: Wasn't she your secretary anyway?

WL: Does it make a difference?

MR: No.

WL: ...

==>

*Swift Toss*

==> Byakuya: Talk to Shinobusprite.

Shinobusprite: Why me?

Byakuya: I respected you enough to keep your urn.

Shinobusprite: When I was told I would get another chance at life by some offbeat clairvoyant, this wasn't what I was thinking.

Byakuya: I missed you as well...

Shinobusprite: *chirp chirp*

Shinobusprite: Fused me with a cricket, huh?

Byakuya: It jumped in...

==>

MR: Fun, yes?

WL: She's resentful.

MR: You're surprised by this?

WL: Just give me my next instruction now.

MR: Use the carved totem with the Alchemiter.

==>

Shinobusprite: Already done...

==>

WL: Alright...a stack of cash? What am I going to do with that?

MR: You know. ;)

==> Byakuya: Make it rain.

You make it rain as a meteor crashes in the distance. Looks like it crashed into the Conclomerate. This is the least of your concerns, however, as a white light engulfs your room...

==> Years in the future, but not many...

A WISE LONER comes across a destroyed building. He looks around. No one is near him. Not even close. Suddenly, something begins to rise from the ground in the near distance. Curious, he gravitates toward it. Perhaps, there will be someone there, waiting for him...

ACT ONE: Land of Heatwaves and Fortune

==>Byakuya: How's the weather?

HOT. So hot that you feel the need to remove some of your clothes. But you don't because that's aginst your protocol. Seriously though, why the heck is it so hot out here?!

==>

You look out across the land you ended up in. You see towers of gold and silver, and even some of crystals. Across this sweltering place, you notice some sort of reptillian creatures seemingly unphased by the heat. Shinobusprite also looks unphased. Are you the only one roasting here?!

==> Byakuya: Consult Shinobusprite.

Byakuya: Well, any idea of where we are?

Shinobusprite: We are in your medium, more specifically, the Land of Heatwaves and Fortune.

Byakuya: I understand the heatwave part, but fortune?

Shinobusprite: That, too, will play a role in your session. I can't tell you yet, though.

Byakuya: You don't habe to act like a secretary anymore, Shinobu.

Shinobusprite: It's Shinobusprite now, Byakuya.

Shinobusprite: *chirp chirp*

Byakuya: Fine...who are they?

Shinobusprite: Those reptiles are desert tortises, and they will be your consorts, your loving helpers.

Byakuya: What does that make you?

Shinobusprite: As your sprite, I am your guide. Nowhere did it say I had to be loving.

Byakuya: ...

==> Byakuya: Let Ramen know their mistake.

WL: Let's see. My sprite hates me, and my land is as hot as Hell. What is this game again?

MR: SBURB. Wow, at least I could wrap myself in a blanket.

WL: Aside from my land, and my obvious issues with my sprite, what the heck am I supposed to do?

MR: You need to get the next player in. I'm sure Sprinkle or Cookiecutter know who it'll be.

WL: Why don't you find out?

MR: Yeah, okay.

==> Kyoko: Find out.

MysteriousRamen [MR] began chatting with WaterloggedSprinkle [WL]

MR: You're Egg's server, yes?

WS: Yep!

MR: Did Cookiecutter tell you the order we enter in?

WS: Yes! First was Makoto, then you, then Byakuya, then Touko, then Yasuhiro, then me.

MR: Hold on. That's just our class, or some of our class. What about the other class? Surely he's playing with them.

WS: Well, duh, but they won't start until we're all in.

MR: Ah, so once you're in whatever land you have, you'll tell him?

WS: That's the plan. Although...I am worried they may not make it in time.

MR: What's going on at Earth?

WS: Meteors are crashing all around. I'm surprised the internet hasn't been knocked out.

MR: Oh my. Stay safe, Aoi.

WS: You got it!

MysteriousRamen [MR] ceased chatting with WaterloggedSprinkle [WS]

==> Kyoko: Give Byakuya that sweet info.

MR: Guess what?

WL: Just tell me.

MR: You bring in Touko.

WL: PsychoticLovestruck?!

MR: I think that's her.

WL: As if my session couldn't get any worse...

WealthyLiterary [WL] ceased chatting with MysteriousRamen [MR]

==> Meanwhile...

The Mindful Refuge notices someone in the distance...but is he friend...or foe?

==> Byakuya: Let's get this over with.

WealthyLiterary [WL] began chatting with PsychoticLovestruck [PL]

WL: Who is it this time?

PL: You know who ♡□♡

WL: You know what? No. I'm not doing this with you.

PL: Oh, come on, ya know I'm more fun than she is ',8)

WL: I'm blocking.

PL: Ugh. You're soooo playing hard to get U♡Ó

WL: What even is that?!

PL: A winky face U3Ó

WL: Get her now.

PL: Fine...ÒnÓ

==> Touko: Where are you?

You're in your cool pajamas right now. It's a nice tradeoff. When...she...is out, you are here, and of course, the other way around. It's nice, being in this dream world. You dispose of your cares here. You fly without chains. Sometimes, you wonder what she does when she's here. Other times, you try to wake your friends. They're there too, but they're always asleep. You leave notes and letters every time you visit them, though. At least let them know you were there.

==>

She's trying to wake you up, but you don't want to go. Not yet...

==>

Seriously, stop. You aren't going back.

==>

PL: Okay, slight little problem.

WL: What...

PL: She's refusing to come to. Probably off on dream world again.

WL: Dream world? Now I've heard everything.

PL: I'm serious! It's like purple and dark, and there are people there, but they're like...covered in some black shell thing.

WL: A carapace?

PL: Yeah, we'll call it that. There's a golden one too. I've seen both. There's also these towers with everyone else in them, though I'm not sure why they won't wake up. It's like...you have to be conscious enough to wake up here...

WL: Alright, fine. I'll get you into the game then, and I guess I'll fill her in later.

PL: Yesss

WL: On one conditon.

WL: No flirting. At all.

PL: Hmmm.....

PL: Can I write them on a piece of paper?

WL: As long as you don't tell me.

PL: Deal! Now, tell me what to do.

==> Mindful Refuge: Inspect the loner.

It looks like he's heading toward the building rising out of the ground. You squint your eyes to see him better. It looks like he doesn't notice you at all. You aren't sure whether or not that's good. After all, you're seeking to find a place of your own. Slowly, you back away. As you do, your foot touches a hard surface, not at all like the sand you feel. You dust away the remaiming grains of sand to see some sort of symbol. Surprised, you jump up. This requires some investigation.

==>

As this happens, you fail to notice the PEASANT LIGHTHEARTED wandering in the distance...

==>

WL: I'll repeat this one more time. You can put whatever you want into the kernelsprite.

PL: Anything?

WL: Anything.

PL: In that case...

==>

You open your drawer to find your not-so-secret stash of model magazines. Cosmopolitan...Vogue...ah, Playboy! Slowly, you tear out a poster of a rather risque woman and toss it into the sprite, which becomes a...Modelsprite.

==>

SQUISH

==>

Huh? Kameko?! You should have seen this coming. She was always a sneaky one. Luckily, you were going to need her anyway.

==>

*Sprite Ex-Machina!*

This was used several times already.

==>

Modelsprite is now Kamekosprite.

==>

WL: I'm almost surprised you didn't prototype a photo of me.

PL: What?! I'm not THAT obsessive!

WL: Yet you put your stinkbug with a model...

PL: She wanted to be pretty. Did ya think I sat around and looked at that smut?

WL: You didn't?

PL: No, I do.

WL: Disgusting.

PL: You asked! Now what's next?

WL: Get one of those dowels of cruxite and carve it with the totem lathe.

==>

Kamekosprite: Ooh, what are you doing, Syo?

Syo: Trying to start some game.

Kamekosprite: Is that why you mixed me with the pretty lady?

Syo: Well yeah. You're joining the ride, too.

Kamekosprite: Aw, thank you...though did you have to do the one from Playboy?

Syo: It was the only one with a poster that didn't have an ad for cologne on the back.

Kamekosprite: But...I smell bad...

Syo: Nonsense, you smell amazing.

Kamekosprite: *w*

==>

WL: How nice. You and your sprite get along.

PL: Wait, can you see me?!

WL: I thought you knew.

PL: Damn, if I did, I...

PL: won't say what I'd do.

==>

*Noice Save!*

==>

WL: Totem?

PL: Lathed.

PL: What's up with your sprite?

WL: Let's just say Shinobu didn't like being my secretary as much as I thought.

PL: Eh, she'll come to realize that you love her, too.

WL: She's also part cricket, so...

PL: Like Kameko is half model?

WL: Correct.

WL: Syo.

PL: Yes?

WL: ...

WL: Put the totem on the Alchemiter. It'll make the item you need to enter your land.

PL: Okie.

==>

Kamekosprite: Allow me.

==>

PL: Seriously? A book? I read enough of those to get my stuff out of the fetch modus.

WL: Well, what would Genocider Syo do to the book?

PL: Ahh...

==> Syo: Do what you'd do to the book.

You get your scissors from your strife specibus and go to work cutting up the book. You feel Touko cringing within you as you desecrate the piece of literature, but personally, you couldn't care less...that is, until an unprompted sneeze switches you two. Gosh darn it, why doesn't she tell you this beforehand? Why couldn't she do the sneeze earlier? Still, she takes over as your room is covered in white...

#danganronpa #super dangan ronpa 2 #danganronpa fanfiction #homestuck #homestuck universe #makoto naegi #kyoko kirigiri #byakuya togami #touko fukawa #yasuhiro hagakure #aoi asahina #more tags

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convndrums · 7 years ago

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here the FAWK she ( the semi-finished masterlist of all my characters ) is ! took way too long but hopefully as you proceed to click on the linque below you’ll know why smh but yep ! i’ll be adding their pages on my account when i’m done with them soon i hope and maybe come back with a bunch of connections for each character but for now this is all i got & smash this like or im me for plots i’d love to get on those finally xx

reintroducing amanda wheeler; intro & info page.

queen of irony. rich post- faux country gal who’s a loud homosexual and writes hetero fics/has an indie het smut for the absolute shits and giggles. dates a married woman she’s utterly in love with and will pull the life support cord for. said to be possessed by a possessed flapper. cute and knows it even though she looks like a republican. socially open & everywhere. morally grey.

reintroducing imogen yates; intro & info page. ( tw violence )

the grey area between your mom friend and your drunk aunt. happily vegan & owns a vegan restaurant called the fork, alt. the vegan cult’s lair. won’t kill you, but will convince you she really wants to. local brat tamer. minds her business via minding others. clashed head-first into nature’s very own reset button: amnesia. used to be satan and traumatized everyone. disgustingly active and accomplishing.

reintroducing ethan holland; intro & info page. ( tw suicide )

he is a sk8r boi, she said see ya later boy ( and meant it. they’re dating now. hey lourdes ! ) a nice person, so nice he doesn’t realize how fake he sounds/is. a certified headass. previously a bully/bully enabler, current guilty fuck. #torn. does the most for his loved ones. doesn’t remember his own birthday. googled foot fetishes once. trolls stan twitter with his fake selena gomez stan account when tumblr crashes. burned a sue of cide note with his name scribbled on it.

reintroducing sebastian miller; intro & info page ( tw violence )

kazimer sokolov whom. russian ex-cult member well-adjusted into a mundane life via lies, a fake canadian accent he’s ‘trying to get rid of’, being a twilight saga aficionado and a dickwad, a lame record store and a tumblr blog to keep himself sane by maintaining a general aesthetic and shitting on people and every discourse out there. knives/books sniffer. allegedly fucked a moose. probably kinkshames as a way to deal with his own “kinks” aka please keep the dead bodies away. ( im kidding i swear but [redacted] )

reintroducing prudence zima; intro & info page ( tw death )

parents died in a fire when she was two months old and it shows. idolizes avril lavigne & her favorite movie is lords of dogtown for aesthetics references. dude. social leech or effortless networker ? both. remains in her lane regardless. cry-types probably. here for a good time, not a long time. steals your stash and smokes you out with it. avid dick connoisseur. minimum effort lifestyle. either on her way to become a manager of some one hit wonder band that finds it’s demise in a freak accident, a drug dealer or god forbid, a guidance counselor; depends. mild cool girl syndrome.

reintroducing jennifer meade; intro & info page ( tw death, violence and abuse )

bi/pussy muncher and proud misandrist, first and foremost. remembers killing her brother very fondly. the one girl in a room to call when you want to kill a bug and you’re relieved until she kills it with her bare hand. tops. unstable & chaotic evil, respectively. the ginger devil. biased and has her minion whom she invests a great deal of her time in brain washing and obsessing over. supposedly here to make amends but that’s not happening any time soon.

reintroducing margot williams; intro & info page ( tw mental illness )

deserves better. very gay. all her friends are heathens xtra, take it slow. corrects typos in the gc. a nerdy editorial assistant daydreaming about publishing houses instead of the magazine she works for. lowkey shy and she’s angry about it. goes off if she must. jacks off to #knowledge and yuri anime. helps with homework and essays and takes the kids out. deadpan because we’re original but she swears it’s just the face & unresolved trauma. stans her therapist. unofficial older sister.

reintroducing chandler accardi; intro ( re-written ) & info page

needs to do better. dropped out of college for culinary school then dropped out of that too. was engaged to an absolute goddess he ultimately wronged ( with her damn best friend, bitch disgostin* ) and got kicked out to the curb. currently residing in the couch of his sister until things are resolved. thot-by-default & annoying. has like three ( 3 ) redeeming qualities. has never been told to shut up and it shows. works at buzzfeed.

reintroducing abel gautier; intro & info page

french and “confused”. lives a minimalist n’ expensive life. if american psycho & french kiss were the same movie. wine sniffer. the devil bakes croissants. will watch you die. takes grudges to the afterlife. gets attached but either ruins it or ruins it to spare everyone, himself included. falls in love a lot but knows how to calm the fuck down. very giving, fortunately. manipulative but isn’t too wild about bending everything to his will.

reintroducing simini gale; intro & info page ( tw abuse, violence & mental illness )

token white actress & character in rosie’s show. [ britney vc ] its me.... against dissociation. a loud mess with an intense mental state and anger issues dulled out by her prescribed meds and whatever pill she got in the bottom of her manager’s purse. dependent and distraught about it. grocery shopping for garbage food and attending comedy stand up shows half drunk as a hobby. stable ? where. very nice and super flighty. heels are hot. wishes she could fight someone without feeling the urge to actually fight someone.

reintroducing calvin o’shea; intro & info page ( tw mental illness )

it’s not just the depression more than the incredible self hatred. walks into rooms with his bad energy, grumpy mood and cunty attitude. graduated college just to shut his dad up. wants to die harder than edward cullen. just doesn’t give a shit. has a baby named freddie mercury ( also known as the antichrist, with alanis, his mortal literal enemy whom he absolutely despises and will not hesitate to put his dick back in again lbr ) who will probably grow up to talk shit about his parents whom he also mentioned in his tell-all book on ellen. works at his family’s bookstore that sucks the life energy out of college students nearing a mental breakdown.

reintroducing isabel pavia; intro & info page ( tw drug use )

contemporary dances her feelings away. too ambitious for her own good but knows what she’s doing. in a goth ass secret society ( here ) a.k.a her new found purpose. knows everything eventually. oddly trustworthy. doesn’t know what speaking loudly is, let alone yelling. loves the moon & has that moon app. had to take painkillers when she twisted her ankle very badly and would take them for a while for stress and performance reasons, but has stopped. a quiet angel.

reintroducing anastasia zeller; intro & info page

ambitious/multi-talented asshole. horror trash & an emotional/mental maze which translates well into her weird works on no sleep reddit and current horror comedy podcast. ( click here for info ). needs a therapist according to a friend, whom she dropped for saying that. will bite your head off. obsessed with her works to an unhealthy point. would love to establish a company and stuff out of it and is working on that. healthy relationships are a semi-foreign concept.

reintroducing morgan booker; intro & info page ( tw death )

vape-curious and takes photos of ghost towns and abandoned-everythings because #vision. had a roadtrip phase like the fake deep idiot he is. morally grey. genuinely here for a good laugh and spreading joy in the form of hover-friendships and taking lit candids of his friends. knows shit and comes off as a creep sometimes but does he really care. knows your mom’s name. lives in a disused hospital bc he’s marinating on that aesthetic.

reintroducing bowie harmon; intro & info page ( tw drug use & abuse )

part of a duo in a web series as the anxious n’ cackling mess. showcases her depressión & anxieté by her colorful wigs n’ new hair dyes. painful receptionist at a tattoo parlor. recovering addict who advocates for drug use. thinks tattooing a ruler on someone’s dick one day would be the peak of her accomplishments as a tattoo artist. daily bad decisions. “ it’s complicated. ” when asked about literally any relationship she has with anyone in her life. traumas include her failed singing career. an ex viner-by-association.

reintroducing shaheen bin baz; intro & info page ( tw violence & mental illness )

the physical deception of going through hell in a short amount of time with zero mental durability to begin with during midterms. trigger-anxious. will shoot your toes off your foot if caught off guard. aided in criminal operations with the brilliance of his mind in codes. would not mind dying. seasons your food. waters his crops in his balcony garden. the grey area between a super laidback dude and a crackhead with violent tendencies. nearing a mental breakdown probably.

reintroducing minka abbott-santos; intro & info page ( tw abuse )

defeats the evil stepmom stereotype one breath at a time. the human embodiment of a deer. gothic angel. alarmingly gets black swan. type to wake up to her staring at you from an armchair across the room, but lovingly, with a book she was reading in hand and two hot cups of tea; she was waiting to start the day with you. spooky until you get to know her and even more spookier when she’s ( note: calmly ) pissed but that’s extremely rare. gentle voice, soul and everything.

reintroducing reuben faulkner; intro & info page ( tw abuse & violence )

rekt hell prince. lived in an amish community with his family until he got kidnapped away from home when he was seven into an awful living situation. doesn’t remember if the gas leak that happened five years later and killed everyone was his doing or not. knows where his real family is after months of tracking them down but. blood kink under investigation. shady bouncer at a shady club. has issues he has no care or time to diminish. fights for the shits and giggles. leaves texts at read. leaves you alone for your own good and his own sanity.

reintroducing alexandra turunen; info page

wants to do everything and be everything and doesn’t know what to do with herself ( read: post-graduation identity crisis ) currently investing in a motorcycle for no reason. essentially jobless. a “retired” kathryn merteuil who “outgrew” her cunning ways since highschool but really only found new socially destructive interests. appears to be self-possessed but she’s #shaken. doesn’t care about how well she presents herself anymore after getting rejected by four universities and refusing to accept her father’s offer to pull some strings to get her in one. sleeps a lot.

reintroducing giuseppe del vecchio; info page ( tw death & drug use )

goes by pepe because well. son of italian oil peeps & is extra. said to be in a cult when all he’s in is this extra ass dining club that does the most for initiation ceremonies. ready to fall in love with you. goes to the king’s college in london and studies business & changes his minor way too often for everyone’s liking. into everything and will be down to do whatever. faux deep. mischievous shit. incredibly unbiased. had his rawrk n’ roll phase that died along with someone in a club literally. still has it but he knows god now & less drugs.

reintroducing kelian scott; info page ( tw death & drug use )

a father/father figure who tries™. runs a mechanic shop/chop shop because bad decisions and dire needs ( had his son to send to school and his daughter who passed away due to a disease he couldn’t afford to treat even after turning his shop into a chop shop. his wife then left him ). stares into the distance. wants the best for the kids but one of them is a junkie ( he doesn’t know yet ) and the other -- his niece -- is an orphan he’s worried about. thinks ahead 24/7. needs to pull out of this dull n’ depressing daily routine he has fallen into like the basic ass divorced dad he is.

reintroducing sal presley; info page

smexy trace & fingerprint detective. talks. the perfect illusion to bring home to your parents and friends. gets shit done which is both a good thing and a bad thing. looks calm, collected n’ well-rested but isn’t. his actual name is salvatore but no. knows how to mix drinks and more; used to showcase his multi-talented ass to make his ( currently ex ) fiancée look good now just himself. was engaged three times; two of those times with the same person. obsessive; gets into his job a little too intensely for no reason but #justice and maybe something else whom knows. loses sleep at least two nights a week as a habit at this point. has an extended family back home he misses occasionally. wishes he could calm down truly.

#smoke:intros #FINALLY RISING HOLY SH-#ill do some plotting n hopefully get on replies soonish hell yea lets GO!

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pensurfing · 6 years ago

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Caitlin’s Three Things List

Okay, so moments (probably hours by the time I finish this) ago I wrote a goals list that I think is good for self-evaluation. (Keyword: This is what I think. results may vary depending on what you’re looking for.)

I’m going to hop to it and answer some of these that I laid out in hopes of having a better idea of what I want to accomplish.

The Three Things Lists!

1) Three things that went well this year.

* Audience growth

So once upon a time, I grew a pretty decent following due to creating an Inktober Prompt list. My expectations: Maybe two of my friends would do this, maybe. And then one stranger that has followed me for a while. (There are a few followers I recognize their username because if I post something they always like it and for some reason that keeps me going.)

But because of this prompt, I was exposed to MANY new creators and illustrators that I now enjoy chatting with and following! Instagram had the biggest maintained growth. I’m excited to create for an audience that actually expects me to create and not just for friends who see my things “whenever they aren’t busy”. (Not to bash them or anything, just there are a lot where unless I tell them, they don’t see the posts I make.)

Another surge of growth in my audience was due to tabling at conventions this year. I was terrified to show my work let alone attempt to sell it to someone. Tabling at cons not only boosted my confidence but also quieted one of my ever going demons. “YoU sUcK aT dRaWiNg CaItLiN.” “How do you have a degree? oh right, you just barely passed.” I can’t say this is the case, there is an audience that genuinely enjoys my scribbles. So I am forever thankful to Atlanta Comic Con for giving me that chance. It honestly opened a few doors for me.

**Process

I’ve gotten more comfortable with showing my process. It can be messy, crisp, and illogical. But turns out the people who enjoy my content enjoy my scrambled thoughts. It’s something about not being alone in this sort of sense that calms the nerves.

So I can say with chest poked out that sharing process has gotten MUCH better. I can thank a self-help book I bought this year that was a FANTASTIC BUY. Austin Kleon has [two] (currently? If he has more then I’m buying it like people buy a name brand.) books that helped me see that it is GREAT to share not only the process but advice. “Show Your Work” is the book I’m talking about for now. Great tips, the outline is on the back of the book. So if you’re like me, I need to clearly see what I might be getting into, you might have a ball.

And finally, (not calling myself out on this but other) If you’re going to respond to people when they ask you “how do you___?” do not answer “Google it”. That is the rudest thing I’ve seen some of even my FAVORITE illustrators do; that response can burn in hell. PERIODT. (my one typo allowed.)

*** Art Style Exploration

For those who think college will help you establish an art style that you’ll enjoy or help nourish the one you currently have.... Let me save you over 80K.... No, the fuck it won’t.

That was the biggest thought I had going into art school. If anything, it confused me more and utterly destroyed what little confidence I had in my drawing style. After graduating, I had a huge swing from how I used to draw to how my art currently looks. I stopped trying to please the one professor who stood between me and my degree and started drawing to please my tastes. And guess what? That did something. And that something WORKED. I love what I draw now; I see why I chose this as my career path. I’m genuinely happy with how my pieces turn out versus in college just wanting to turn the damn thing in and hoping it isn’t an F.

2) Three things you could have handled better.

* The loss of a good paying client.

Now hear me out when I say this: A good paying client DOES NOT EQUAL a good client. Say that three times and then exhale.

Back earlier this year, I had the opportunity to work with a writer who gave me hell and back. And even that is an understatement. I dealt with her because in school you were taught “if they pay on time, finish the work and get the exposure.”

I’m here to tell you my lesson learned: A good paying client DOES NOT EQUAL good exposure, good pay, a good client.

I was doing the work of three for the price of one and a half. (And was always told I charged too much.) She tried abusing this power with friends of mine, with other illustrators. When things turned out bad, she tried saying it was my fault. She read my contract and then tried telling me I changed the wording, I purposely did this thing, another thing was my fault. I could go on with this story.

The part that I wish I handled better?

How I treated myself afterward. I’m so used to people telling me, “Cait, this is what you do wrong. This is how you fix it.” that I don’t consider my own feelings, and when I bring my feelings into the scenario they no longer matter. Because they tell me they don’t matter. In this case, I wish I had treated me better, because my feelings, my mental health, DOES matter.

**My Patience Getting Into Conventions.

Pretty self-explanatory. I got into one, finished one, and wanted to do eight more in a week. But this sort of thing just takes time and I need to accept that.

***My losses

I had to listen to a Little Mix song to actually learn this one. The context of the song is nowhere near the topic at hand. But a verse from Power feat Stomzy really packs a punch after this year:

“ You look him in the eye and say, "I know I'm not a guy But see there's power in my losses and there's power in my wins" “

I had to look one of my demons in the face, and state something similar. My loses mean I’m trying. My loses piling shows I’m not willing to give up easily, and that is something that took a while to be content with.

3) Three things artistically you want to improve on.

*Composition

It’s not awful, but it can be better.

**Color

I told this BOLDLY if I might add while critiquing someone else’s portfolio; “Your color palette is boring. All your [things] look as if they are from the same universe, during the same time of day, with the same kind of mood. After three photos it’s bland, boring, and understood you have a preference.”

Can you say damn Cait? The statement was, in fact, true, but I certainly could not talk. My color palette is mainly bright, pop, and happy. In order to tell a story, I KNOW it is best told with color. And I failed myself this year. But I sure won’t next year.

***My Damn Tag

Okay, alright. Why is it well-established artists have their tag figured out? Even some who’s art style is so recognizable (I’m looking HEAVILY at you Gabriel Piccolo.) we know it’s theirs, seem to have a tag that suits them and works for them. But more importantly, they put it in A VERY DECENT SPOT. SOMEONE SHARE THIS SCIENCE WITH ME? CAUSE APPARENTLY I DON’T GET IT.

4) Three things you want to focus on trying.

*More backgrounds.

As much as it pains me, I need to improve on backgrounds and perspective. When I do make backgrounds, I’m told I make great pieces. That I should look into becoming a background artist. And don’t get me wrong, I like them. But I don’t like them.

I feel as though I need to improve in that region so that way I don’t feel as though it’s a weakness of mine. My backgrounds are nice, but they aren’t nice to my standards.

**More designs

I love character designs, but let’s be real. If you were to scroll down my site or my Instagram page, or even this Tumblr archive, could you tell?

I draw characters a lot sure, but none are designs. No process, no sheets, no turnarounds, none of that. So that’s a huge goal of mine for 2019.

***Scheduling posting

At one point I was pretty good at this. Live stream in Instagram and Twitter, cool. Videos on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. Cool. Everywhere gets a photo, everywhere gets a silly one-liner. Yay. I’m not leaving anything out.

Well by the end of this year that totally crumbled.

SO I want to try getting better at that thing there. Because having attempted this at the end of the year was cool, but it still wasn’t enough apparently.

5) Three positive things to tell yourself.

* You are an inspiration. That’s all you wanted to be in life, you did it. I’m proud of you.

**You didn’t kill yourself like you tried to; you opened up about it for once and used that pint up anger creatively. That is very hard to do, trust. I’m proud of you.

***You moved on, matured, and let it go. Even when the goddess inside you told you these peasants didn’t deserve your light, your friendship, your greatness. I’m proud of you.

I’m just proud of me for not snapping when I had every right to; not everything deserves a reaction.

6) Three negative things you want to leave for 2018.

*Comparisons

Oh boy. I am extremely guilty for this: I’ll compare myself to a well-known illustrator my age. I’ll compare myself to friends who are in the field having a blast and getting work; I’ll compare myself to friends who aren’t in the field and they struggle at getting work. I’ll compare myself to the kid I graduated high school with who is traveling the world, is able to eat, come home to his dog and relax because he doesn’t have tuition to pay. I’ll compare myself to these goddamn baby boomers who keep repeating “We didn’t have it hard, you’re just being stupid. Millennials aka our children deserve to starve. We’ll just put our faith in our grandchildren because screw the kids we raised and refuse to pay accordingly. $7 an hour worked in my day, they need to make it work now.” I’ll compare myself to fake people I created in my head and purposely made scenarios and wonder why I’m not like them, said creations I made because I was pretty low for ten minutes...

I just compare myself too much. To any damn body. It’s draining, obnoxious and most of all pointless. My new motto for next year is: “Unless it is helping you grow yourself, your brand, your spirituality, don’t do it.”

I’m not comparing my chapter two to someone’s chapter thirty-five. I’m not even comparing my chapter two to someone else’s chapter two. I need to stop doing that PERIOD! My journey is different, unique, and worth seeing through.

**Listening to negative others.

A couple of years ago, I lost a close friend around the time my aunt passed away. During this time I was hypersensitive to any and everything done or said; I also kept many walls up to hide my mourning. He caught the crossfire of all of that. I kept secrets from him I was too prideful of admitting and lashed out because of the emotional turmoil I kept suppressed. While in the midst of packing his things and leaving my life, he mentioned that I was a failure because I was unemployed and artistically speaking I hadn’t accomplished anything; that I would remain that way because that’s just the person I deserved to be. Now mind you, I graduated college that year; he was a flunk out. I changed my art style dramatically compared to when I started school to pass; he thought just posting crappy pictures of lukewarm sketches were equivalent. I started attempting trends and all he could do was copy. Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t to bash my old friend. If he were to come back into my life and move on like nothing had happened I’d do the same. (With some limitations.)

It’s just while typing out this scenario, of our four-year friendship I can’t think of one nice thing/compliment/gesture he has said to me. That’s my problem.

I can be praised, admired, and look highly upon for years straight. But my problem is I let others negative thinking and comments marinate with me for a long while. Too long of a while.

Another example is my mother’s friend. (My mom has many friends that do this shit, but this one stung more.)

This friend always roots for me; treats me like a person, and encourages my artistic journey. I consider her family before my actual relatives.

We went over for some barbeque the family was having and I was ready. Black Hallmark Cookouts, laughing, good food, good music, shit talking others teams. She asked me a harmless question of when was I going to quit my day job. Seemed like nothing at first, until the added gest of what she continued with. “All I’m saying is you can’t do [your day job] forever. That will get old. If the art thing doesn’t work out next year what’s plan b?”

I’m not a calm person (usually). Normal Caitlin would have cursed her out and mentioned how just because she chose a job to settle and be miserable at for most of her life doesn’t mean I have to follow suit. But again, of all the nice encouraging things she has done, said, and showed, for a while, I couldn’t think of it.

So I pray I let go of this nasty behavior in 2018; it’s going to be hard but it is dire.

***Saying I’m Not Enough

Alright, now put the combination of the two above in a bowl and what do you get? A Caitlin who struggles in interviews and applying for jobs because I let comparisons and negative comments rule my thoughts. This stopped me from applying to jobs I would have been perfect for; internships that could have helped me; posting art online.

We (including me) have to stop thinking that in order to be an illustrator means we have to pass a certain threshold of struggle, success, and a huge number of followers. That isn’t the job description. NO JOB DESCRIPTION has ”must have at least 10K followers on Instagram or Twitter.” nOnE.

So we (including me) need to stop treating ourselves this way. Period.

7) Three things you’re looking forward to in 2019.

*Going to move conventions.

**Adding pieces to my portfolio to try again at job hunting.

***Becoming content with the fact that my current situation isn’t my permanent situation. Unless I laze around and make it so.

Alright, so this was basically me calling myself out on my noise. Lashing out my demons and putting it in writing what I want to accomplish. I hope this inspires you to write yours, even if you keep it private. I hope it guides you and maintains your vision.

I’ll see you in 2019

A new wave

Caitlin xx

#pensurfing #new years #new years resolution

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