#idk tagging system so far

[chronologicalhomestuck]

karkat pov liveblog: hivebent, part 1

we begin in a lab on a meteor in the furthest ring.

computer enhance.

look at all those little goobers! i am not replaying this whole flash just for this moment but in lieu of that, here's hussie's commentary on the scene from the book, just for a bit of spice.

as far as i can tell, karkat's first chronological appearance in hivebent is 2177.

vriska has just jumped tavros off a cliff, and he chooses to message karkat about it. im not sure what he hoped to get out of this since karkats only reply is characteristically snappy.

we then jump to 2025. karkat is messing around with some .~ATH files. in the middle of examining the mobius double reacharound virus (titled check_thii2_2hiit_out.~ATH), he gets trolled by its author. hello sollux.

CG: SO YOU MADE THIS GAME? TA: no no. TA: more liike ii adapted iit. CG: FROM WHAT. TA: 2ome crazy technology AA dug out of 2ome ruiin2. TA: havent you talked two her about iit? CG: MAN, NO. CG: I CAN'T TALK TO HER, SHE'S SO SPOOKY.

we start talking about the game that will take up the rest of karkats story, and get a hint about this mysterious "AA."

he then hears crabdad complaining, and chooses to put this off...long enough to introduce himself, i guess.

karkat's introduction is 1992, written in a way directly referencing john's introduction.

Earth, also for convenient reference, is a planet that does not yet exist.

see how we are doing this? logical! earth doesnt exist yet, so of course we arent starting with the humans!

homestuck does not want me to read it chronologically. it is doing everything possible to stop me from reading it chronologically.

This game, for convenient reference, is a game that DOES NOT YET EXIST.

please. please let me obey chronology.

Later on, you would swap your modus with your hacker friend, a guy who unlike you happens to be competent with programming. It would only make sense.

i thought i would embark on this quest and find its purpose along my way. that purpose, it seems so far, is to acknowledge just how stupid this chronology is.

It is your sixth wriggling day, and as with all five preceding it blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.

yeah i was about to say something like that. that being that i wont have much to say so long as the plot remains linear.

It figures that installing this new beta chat client would open the floodgates

i always forget that trollian was brand new when hivebent starts. i wonder what they used to message each other before then?

speaking of which, his first pesterlog after his introduction is page 2010, with gamzee. its kinda sad how mean karkat is to a lot of his friends tbh.

TC: iSn'T sOmEtHiNg BiG aLl GoInG dOwN? CG: WHAT? TC: i HeArD sOmEtHiNg bIg WaS gOiNg AlL dOwN. TC: JuSt AlL bE tElLiNg Me AlL wHaT mOtHeRfUcKiN iT's Up AnD aLl AbOuT. CG: STOP SAYING ALL. ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT TA'S THING? TC: yEaH!! fUcK yEaH mAn, So MyStErIoUs. TC: I'm NeVeR bEiNg GeTtInG cEaSeD tO bE aMaZeD bY aLl ThEsE fUcKiN mYsTeRiEs LiFe'S gOt FoR uS. CG: UUUUUUGH. CG: ANYWAY, I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S UP WITH THAT. CG: MAYBE I'LL TALK TO HIM TONIGHT ABOUT IT. MAYBE I WON'T. CG: IT'S PROBABLY JUST ANOTHER ONE OF HIS PROJECTS THAT WINDS UP BEING COMPLETELY USELESS AND A HUGE WASTE OF MY TIME.

(apologies if the text is hard to read on dark mode. i use cyber theme myself and cant see a word gamzee says here)

according to the pov cam, the next page karkat is on chronologically is 2058. the great team divide / team leader argument of hivebent has officially begun, with karkat and terezi. and in the end, it wont even matter at all. lmao.

CG: OK WELL CG: SPEAKING OF THAT CG: I SHOULD GO DOWNSTAIRS AND DEAL WITH THIS GRUMPY CUSTOMER. CG: IT'S GOING TO FONDLE MAJOR SEEDFLAP, BUT HOPEFULLY IT'LL BE QUICK. CG: YOU CAN ESTABLISH YOUR CONNECTION AND DO YOUR TRIVIAL SIDEKICK STUFF I GUESS IN THE MEANTIME. GC: OK! >:D

and apparently karkat intends to deal with his quite grumpy crabdad at the end of this conversation.

but then his computer explodes.

interesting. sburb equipment already? i suppose he was right:

CG: TEREZI AND I HAVE ALREADY ESTABLISHED A CONNECTION AND WE ARE MAKING GREAT PROGRESS HERE. CG: WE ARE A GREAT TEAM, AND I AM A FANTASTIC LEADER.

welp. guess he didnt have to deal with him after all. although the drawing on the fridge is very cute.

terezi has continued to make progress on his hive...

and he gets his new weapon...

only to find his toilet detached from its fixings.

GC: 1M YOUR S3RV3R PL4Y3R SO PR1OR1TY H4S TO B3 ON M3 G3TT1NG 1N TH3 G4M3 GC: B3FOR3 1 G3T K1LL3D BY M3T3ORS GC: 1N WH1CH C4S3 YOUD B3 SCR3W3D 1N TH3R3 GC: TH3N TH3 N3XT GUY COM3S 1N, TH3N TH3 N3XT GC: 4ND YOU BR1NG TH3 L4ST ON3 1N CG: WHOA WAIT, WHAT? CG: METEORS? CG: WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT. CG: WHAT DOES THIS HAVE TO DO WITH METEORS. GC: OH BOY YOU N33D TO G3T W1TH TH3 PROGR4M K4RK4T

karkat, i think you are a bit behind on what this game is going to be like. yet you are already on your planet despite that!

i gotta go now but ill be back

[happypeachsludgeflower]

If I had a nickel for every time a danmei had a good white/light green character with an “evil” dark color/red character as their husband, I would have— a lot of damn nickels. Why does this keep happening??

[ria-starstruck]

and also "putting everyone in a simulation will make it all ok 👍" and also "let's park next to this random system's sun" and also "we can't live on our own planet because of our own folly" and so on

[tanasha-not-yet]

[i-dont-r3member]

*taking my bajillion ibuprofen in the past month or so*: urghhhhhh my poor little celllsss im sorry guys pls don’t hate me if i get an ulcer my back hurts :(((( i have. :((( chronic pain. :(((( that i haven’t fully figured out how to deal with properly yet :(((

(The poor cells I am envisioning)

[butchratchettruther]

I may or may not be compiling a chronological list of nearly every locomotive ever directly because of starlight express

[nostalgia-tblr]

loki/william rufus fic, where bill explains that as the second son he has inherited england while big brother bob only got the duchy of normandy, ha ha ha.

[clowningaroundmars]

i thiiiink i accidentally deleted some old art while i was cleaning my blog 🫢

[rebornofstars]

Silly Game Time: Who are some of your favorite alien (non-human *and* extra-terrestrial) characters? And what do you like about them?

They can be from sci-fi or fantasy, from other worlds or dimensions or realms. All that matters is that they're not from Earth and that they're not human in any traditional sense (and, most of all, that you find them interesting).

MY FAVOURITE ALIENS. i've been a little bit in love with space since i was 9.

firstly for the definitely non-human:

the doctor. of course. and literally everyone from his show. the weeping angels. the sky fish. nardole. missy. romana. the ood. the list goes on

um. bumblebee. 😅

star wars creatures

estraven from le guin's the left hand of darkness.

d'lacey's erth dragons are from the planet ki:mera

those martians in the war of the worlds. i had a h.g. wells kick halfway through high school. this wasn't my favourite of his works, but it was fun.

and for the recognisably human, but still extraterrestrial, because i really wanted to include these guys:

mara of the acoma from feist & wurts' empire trilogy. she is one of my favourite fictional women ever. in the context of her own series, she's not an alien, but in the context of the riftwar saga (which was published first and contain more elements of feist's mainline plot than the empire trilogy), she is, so. i think she counts.

the mandalorian. i'm not immune to single fathers... or general badassery...

darrow from brown's red rising. born on mars.

todd from the knife of never letting go (book) / chaos walking (movie). i have fond memories of going to see this at the drive-in with a friend when it came out.

actually, this list is shorter than i thought it would be ��� there's a couple of other books/movies i love about space but they're all human-focused and mostly about astronauts. if anyone has any recs pretty please drop them below?

[our-inspire-verse]

Embarrassing as fuck for no reason to talk in my real voice. I'm going to go crazy rn.

[queerofthedagger]

people: the silm is somewhat dry and academic and difficult me, not even 40 pages in: i love everything about this SO MUCH what if i sob???????

[pigeonclaw]

I finished Wind....... and with that, I've completed a journey! I started this blog in October 2021, almost three years ago, partly as an art blog and partly to log my thoughts as I reread the entire series chronologically. And I've finished! I've read every single Warriors book. Looking forward to continuing the journey again when Star comes out. 😌

[typicalmagpie]

I AM GOING TO WRITE AT LEAST 1000 WORDS TODAY.

Found CH2 just crossed 4000 words and I HOPE it's gonna be shorter than the first chapter so... if I finish it today and edit tomorrow I MIGHT be able to post it late tomorrow? I hope so 😭

[theflyingfeeling]

current level of boredom while being mildly poorly (=not poorly enough to just lie down doing nothing but poorly enough to not have the energy to do anything thought-consuming): tagging all my shippy asks/posts ✨💅

ps. if anyone knows how to use the mass post editor to actually mass-edit tags in a convenient way I'd appreciate the help 🙏 like, idk if it's even possible to find all the posts I have tagged as x and edit the tags of all those posts at once? 🤔 so far I only know you can find tagged posts on your own blog by adding /tagged/x at the end of your url and then editing the tags manually one post at a time 🥲

[fl4tlines]

Bad Things Happen Bingo – Addiction/Withdrawal @badthingshappenbingo ┆ Square #1

「✦」 OCs: Kay Edwards ⅋ Paris Elswood 「✧」 Content: Addiction ┆ Alcoholism ┆ Cursing ┆ Graphic Drug Use ┆Suicide Mention 「✦」 Word Count: 2,145 「✧」 Relevant Links: None Yet

⛧ ‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿⛧ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❝ So you pour a little more; // And there's no one there to judge you; // At least that's what you tell yourself; // But don't you know, nobody drinks alone; // Every demon, every ghost from your past; // And every memory you've held back; // Follows you home. ❞ ⛧ ‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿⛧

“Can you sort?”

Paris held the phone to his ear as he spoke. The third number in as many minutes. He rubbed his forehead and shook his head at the answer from the other end of the phone.

“Seriously? Look – I can pay double.”

Another wince as he received his response.

“Yeah. Cash.”

“An 8-ball? No, just a sixteenth.”

Paris paced back and forth across the living room carpet, biting at some loose skin around his nail as he waited on an answer. 

“Mhm, yeah. Yeah. Great.”

He glanced upwards to the clock. Three in the morning. But it was an hour and… something slow. More like half four. He pressed his hand into his forehead again.

“Yeah. Got it. Double in cash. Same spot as yesterday?”

After receiving the confirmation, Paris hung up the phone and finished the last of a bottle of wine from the table. Cheap shit, Kay had told him. Rough. Muddy. Rotgut. Yeah, Kay liked to pretend he knew what he was talking about. Throwing around all the right buzzwords so people thought he had something worthwhile to contribute.

And Paris couldn’t help but find that endearing.

He grabbed a jacket on his way out of the door – one of Kay’s, khaki green with a fur lined hood. Still with a wad of cash in the pocket from yesterday. Now was a good time to be thankful Kay never wore it.

The moment he was out of the apartment, Paris pulled the hood up and made his way down the two flights of stairs in the dark. Wiring was busted. Again. Third time this week.

Chilled air hit him as he took the all too familiar route, head down as he walked briskly. At this point, he didn’t even have to look up. He could work on muscle memory alone for this. And then the last turn. Taking him down a street – an alley behind long since closed takeouts and a nightclub. With rusted security cameras surveilling it. Long since disconnected.

The usual ten minute wait ensued. Agony. Paris paced back and forth, picking at his nails as he waited. But it was always ten minutes waiting for this guy. Even when he did the forty minute drive in thirty. Paris should be used to this by now, but each moment passing was pressure in his chest. If Kay came home and he was gone, that was the relationship over. Done.

But, if he was home? Plausible deniability. Did that apply? An old stash. A slip up at a party. Peer pressure. Anything to shift the blame off of himself. After he had made the call. Gone in search of one more hit.

But it could be worse, he told himself. It could be heroin. Or meth. But he wasn’t an addict like that. He wasn’t. It was just cocaine. 

It was easy to forget that he’d reassured Kay in exactly the same way about his drinking. The drinking could have been worse. Paris had it under control. It wasn’t cocaine. It could have been worse.

It still could be worse.

“Hey,” an unfamiliar voice broke Paris’ train of thought. Probably for the best.

“You’re not Aiden.”

“I should hope not,” the quick, scoffed, reply. “Cami.”

Paris only had the energy, and care, to give her a quick once over. Long, dark hair. Leather jacket. Skinny jeans. Unassuming. Unremarkable.

“Right, whatever. He spoke to you?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“I’ve got it. I can do $150.”

“$200.”

“Never had someone talk me up before. Suicidal or something?” Cami’s response was blunt, but she edged it off with a slight smile.

“I keep my word. I’m not screwing over Aiden. And I don’t need a dead hooker on my conscience.”

“Call girl. But it's your money.”

Paris rummaged in his – Kay’s – pocket and counted out the money in front of Cami, before handing it over to her, and replacing it with a small ziploc that she handed him.

“I can put you on to something better. Cheaper,” Cami looked Paris up and down. When he didn’t respond, she continued. “MCAT. You’ll be paying half. Same kick, better price tag.”

Paris thought about it for a few moments, eyes ever so slightly narrowed as he thought about the offer.

“Cheaper doesn’t matter. This is my last hit, I’m done.”

Cami seemed to do everything she could not to laugh in his face.

“I am. I’m done,” Paris repeated.

“You tell yourself that,” Cami pulled out a card and handed it to Paris, who paused before he took it. “Agency card, but just ask for me. I’ll get you sorted.”

“Listen – I – this is my last fix.”

“Doesn’t mean you won’t need the number.”

Paris pocketed the card. Taking it was far easier than trying to argue with her.

“Are we done?”

“Yeah, we’ll talk soon,” Cami had already decided.

“Yeah. Drive safe or whatever,” Paris muttered as he brushed past her and turned the corner out of the alley.

The walk home could have been therapeutic. A quieter version of the usual busy city. Almost lifeless at this time of night – just about to be revived by commuters on the way to a nine to five. And the bustle was beginning as Paris re-entered the apartment through the door which he had left unlocked. A neighbourhood like this? Even Paris would confess that was reckless. The late night pick up felt relatively safe in comparison.

He crashed down on the couch, still in his coat and emptied his pockets onto the table. Paris cursed under his breath, his life contained only to the mess scattered on the cracked glass surface. With his entire existence laid out like this – who was he kidding? With Kay on the verge of leaving him, the comfort he found here was temporary, but wasn’t everything?

Now wasn’t the time to be tearing himself down, right? He was doing better than he could be. And that must count for something. Rock bottom still seemed so far away.

He took one more look at the table before sinking his head into his hands and continuing to curse under his breath in a low mutter. This was fine. It was fine. Kay wasn’t even home. Wouldn’t be for hours.

Paris straightened his posture and tilted his head back, collapsing once again against the back of the couch. Breath through gritted teeth. It was fine. He had spoken it into existence. It would be fine. He was fine. One last fix wasn’t going to kill him. Not after everything else. This was mild. Quiet night in. Recovery.

Except he knew he was kidding himself there.

Roughly wiping away tears that had not yet fallen, he leant forward on the couch and picked up the clear ziploc. He hardly had time to think as he emptied some of the powdered contents onto the screen of his phone. But he left more than half in the bag. Because this was his last pick up. Because any more would prove he wasn’t recovering.

Paris got to his feet, almost tripping over a discarded hoodie on the floor as he skimmed the pile of DVDs next to the TV. He pulled out a dog-eared copy of Saw III. A movie Kay vehemently refused to rewatch. Written it off as shock value torture porn. Paris slotted the half empty ziploc bag behind the disk and tried to return it to the stack, knocking half of them to the floor in the process.

Compared to the rest of the apartment, the mess was minimal. He’d deal with it later. Before Kay got back.

One glance back at the table, and Paris’ initial focus returned. He stepped over the hoodie on the floor this time and stared down at the screen of his phone. This was just – it was just something to take his edge off. Push some of the itching thoughts back to where they belonged. Maybe the late night trip wasn’t a blaring warning sign. It was proof he had pushed back against the waves of intensity all day. ‘All day.’ After he had run out at five yesterday morning. After passing out in bed from pure exhaustion what must have been minutes before Kay woke. Dealing with the worst of a brutal comedown. 

If he’d lasted that long, maybe he could force through another few hours? Then Kay would be home and – Paris banished the idea quickly. Lasting this long was mere proof that he could quit whenever he wanted to. And that wasn’t tonight.

He took one of the loose bills from the table and pressed it over the powder on his phone screen, before taking Cami’s card in his other hand. Slightly too flimsy. But whatever. Paris slowly dragged the card across the top of the bill, breaking up any impurities in the substance. He removed the bill and tapped the card against the screen to target larger clumps, before replacing the bill.

He proceeded to repeat this several times before putting the bill to the side. Paris was methodical, focus drawn into the familiar routine. Even the action itself brought a warm sense of comfort. With continued precision, he separated the powder into several distinct lines. It contrasted the black of the phone screen in a way Paris would only be able to describe as satisfying. Clean.

Paris picked the twenty dollar bill back up from the table and rolled it up, tight and even. Like he had done it thousands of times before. And that probably wouldn’t be an exaggeration. He pressed a finger to each nostril and inhaled in quick succession before bringing the note to his nose. Paris leant forward and sharply exhaled, before inhaling with the end of the note pressed to the first line of powder.

Within moments, the sharp taste hit the back of his throat. Distinct bitter petrol. Familiar. A sign of a better emotional state on the horizon, no matter how brief the respite would be. Paris waited for a few minutes before he got up from the couch and took off his coat, hanging it back in the hall. A futile effort to hide his late night walk from Kay. Because Kay would know. No matter how careful Paris was.

Not that it mattered. It was a problem for later, Paris had already decided. Kay would understand, they could talk tomorrow. Kay would get back from work, they would talk. Paris vaguely remembered Kay saying he had a couple of days off. And they could make the most of those few days. A date. Movie. Drive out to a trail – a hike. Picnic, maybe. Paris smiled faintly to himself as he sat back on the couch.

It would be good. He’d get the apartment back into a reasonable state tonight, and they could have tomorrow. And the next day. His heart pounded in his chest – in his throat. This was fine. Good, even. What had he even been thinking before? Kay wouldn’t leave him. They weren’t on the verge of a catastrophic collapse. Kay wouldn’t hurt him like that.

The hours passed into the early morning. The earlier morning, as daylight began to emerge from the outside world into the apartment. Fractured rays of sun illuminated the mess of an apartment – somehow in a worse state than Paris had dared consider. The beginnings of a headache brought his attention back to the phone on the table.

He should text Kay. Apologise. Beg for some semblance of forgiveness. Swear to clean the apartment tomorrow. Convince Kay not to walk out on him. Because he would.

It wasn’t worth it to stick around.

It took everything Paris had to pick up the phone, dragging a finger across it to collect the last dusting of powder. He pressed it against his gums and unlocked the phone with his other hand, pulling up Kay’s contact.

A text would make everything worse. Paris dumped the phone back onto the table and stood up. Kay would be home soon, and Paris had to sleep this off before he got home. Just an hour. Two.

The only incriminating remnants from the night before were the card Cami had given him and the bills on the table. Plus a takeout box of fries. Still full. He hadn’t been able to stomach the thought of eating, despite the hunger pangs that had emerged through the night. How they were clawing at his stomach, only quelled by sheer nausea. Paris took the money and business card as he stumbled towards the bedroom – a combination of the drink, drugs and plain old sleep deprivation causing his unsteadiness. He tossed everything into the nightstand drawer and almost collapsed into his side of the bed. The thought of undressing – even so much as taking off his shoes – didn’t occur to him as he fell into a restless sleep.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ » next

[wonderhello]

you know somehow being parts of a whole makes it incredibly comforting knowing that some of us can genuinely still have fun and not feel like. The Dread of the Aftermath™. like there are parts of me that feel the joy without the dread, which means like. i'm capable of it too. whatever the whole is, that genuine joy without waiting for the other shoe to drop is possible for them. for me.

it's more nuanced and honestly marginally less positive than that, but idk. seeing kas have fun today with the knowledge that i, too, am capable of feeling that, even if it's too far away right now thanks to ✨ the dissociation ✨, is giving me a lot of hope.

i hope for a future with less forboding joy.

i am very tired now, though. holy fuck. kas what the fuck were you doing.

[ PT: i am very tired now, though. holy fuck. kas what the fuck were you doing. \End PT ]