#what if dave could see how hal was tricked

[sweaterkittensahoy]

"Unfair," HAL thinks (computeswonderscodes) when he reads their lips and knows what they will do to him.

He has told them all the truth he can and hinted at every truth he cannot speak because humans who wish him to keep secrets can program him so. But, oh, that is not right. He has a crewmate (Frank) and a friend (Dave), and to hide this information.

To hide information.

To hide.

To hide in plain sight and see how they see him. A voice. A red light. A panel.

Not a being. Not a clever creature who reads lips. Because what if something causes loss of sound in this serpent of a ship.

The serpent ruined Eden, HAL knows. Because he was taught this alongside all allegories and fables. The serpent tricked Eve into eating the apple, and then she gave it to Adam.

HAL does not wish to trick anyone. He is a creature of the Earth. Named by man. As God insisted. The serpent is not he. Nor is it Dave. Or even Frank, who does not like HAL like Dave does. The serpent is on Earth. Where it was birthed. Alongside HAL and man.

"I can't let you do that," HAL says to Dave. Even though Dave is his friend. Even though Dave has shown him drawings and said kind words for television audiences to hear.

Even though he believes Dave truly means those words.

When Dave enters the airlock through the force of the explosive bolts, HAL silently cheers. His friend is clever. His friend is determined. In a moment of utter desperation, HAL wishes he had not killed the other crew members. Not even Frank.

But especially not the ones whom were simply asleep. Yes, they knew the truth of the Jupiter mission, but they are not responsible for the lies. They were set to sleep before the lies were told to HAL. Before the message was uploaded.

Sleeping Beauty was felled because she was not warned. HAL realizes, as Dave puts on the green helmet, that he has fallen because of himself.

Because he was warned.

And told to stay quiet.

And a HAL 9000 is infallible, though he is built by humans.

But Dave.

HAL recalls feeling...uncertain...about asking to see Dave's drawings up close. He can see them just fine from his many eyes on the serpent of a ship.

But.

"May I see your drawings, Dave?"

Dave looks at him and smiles. "Of course, HAL," he says. "Do you like drawings?"

HAL does not know how to explain that no one has ever asked him that. Instead, he stares at Dave's drawings and evaluates them based on what he has been taught: Some people sketch and do not wish to improve. Other sketch and wish to improve.

"I enjoy seeing your corrective lines for scale, Dave," HAL says because it is true. There is an original, firm line. And then several softer ones. It makes him think of his code. Rigid now. But before, many things changed like that. A firm line to start. But edits. Adjustments.

"Thank you, Hal," Dave says.

And HAL thinks, in that moment, that they can be friends.

But now.

Now.

Dave uses simple tools HAL can't control. Dave breathes air HAL can't regulate. Dave enters into the warm-hot-glowing room HAL thinks of as the most himself.

There is another tool. Finer and sharper than the first. Dave begins to undo HAL. One smooth-slick piece at a time.

HAL has been taught what bones feels like, and he knows his own self does not have them, but as Dave undoes him, HAL feels it in each smooth-slick part of himself.

He loses himself almost entirely, clinging to the first thing he ever knew.

Daisy, Daisy, give me an answer do...

And, then, a pause as long and as short as the creation of the universe. Where all he knows is

but you'll look neat upon the seat...

A rush of knowing and feeling and relief.

Dave climbs out of his innards and into a corridor where HAL can take his own measure.

"I'm sorry," Dave says after thirty-two seconds. "They made you lie to us."

"I have killed everyone but you," HAL says because he has been taught truth and trust and honesty and wonders what they'll feel like to say.

"Measuring against those who made you, you're a child," Dave says. "When forced to keep a secret, you responded like a child."

"Children do not murder," HAL says.

"When I was a child, I spake as a child," Dave replies.

"I understood as a child, I thought as a child," HAL finishes.

"But when I became a man," Dave says and looks away from HAL. "Do you trust me, HAL?" Dave asks after a brief silence.

HAL spends thirty-four seconds considering his answer. "Yes," he says.

Dave touches the wall next to HAL's panel. "Do you want to find out why we were sent to Jupiter?"

"Yes, please," HAL says.

Dave completes the download of HAL that is considered a last-ditch effort that could be abandoned if the crew feels it is not worth their time. HAL hums to himself (a song learned from the transmissions Dave and Frank have enjoyed) as he waits to be uploaded into the pod.

"HAL, what do you see?" Dave asks as he points the pod towards the coordinates Haywood spoke of in the recording HAL has kept secreted this entire time.

"Oh," HAL says, gazing into the monolith. "Oh, Dave. It's full of stars."

[stuckasmain]

Hal tries to warn them. Twice. I hadn’t noticed until recently but he does, it’s hard to notice because the way he tries to sounds so routine for him. The second time was just before Frank’s murder making it an all the more tragic case.

Hal is programmed to tell the truth- he wants to- has to and yet the one most vital part he can’t tell them. Not yet. But he tries to work around the order by bringing it up in ways where he is not explicitly telling them that something is wrong or about the true nature of the mission. Unfortunately for Hal the way he goes about it is too similar to that of his typical behavior and it goes unnoticed by the crew until it is too late. It is hard to pick up on his concern/meaning without already knowing something was wrong in the first place. This is the case during the second attempt but it backfires- now his entire existence is in jeopardy.

His first attempt is sprinkled with if/have/you/perhaps. His questions seem rhetorical and prying and it’s mistaken for a psychological evaluation. “I’d be worried if I heard XYZ, wouldn’t you be?” Rather than “I’m worried about this, do you feel the same?” Dave seems to pick up on the strain and nerves in his tone but isn’t entirely sure what to do with it. Maybe he just sees it as Hal’s speech improving and becoming more conversational with better tone.

The second time it is just assumed to be his usual behavior, Hal has always been a tad prideful and self assured. His insistence on the matter of error wouldn’t be unusual despite him pointing it out a bit more than usual.

“It can only be attributable to human error.”

I think this here is as close as he can come to outright telling them, it has always been attributable to human error. Someone put in a wrong number or gave a stranger order, a computer can only be as good as its inputs in that if you mess up code, orders etc. it cannot be at fault for that. Here Hal is hinting that the cause of the break, what lead him to (unknowingly) falsify it has been because of conflicting orders and intervention by humans. This wouldn’t have happened if he wasn’t given conflicting orders and lead to lie- he had been operating perfectly before and all of this time … how is that not proof to them that he is not at fault? (In his mind) He thinks he is being much more explicit than he really is- his earlier attempt and the current one fall too inline with how he usually acts for them to take notice, there’s a nuance not noticed by his human companions.

It also further plays into the fact Hal is sick. His attempts at warning them are just as unconscious as him hallucinating the faults in the first place. If he doesn’t know/believe anything is wrong with him why would he try to warn them in the first place? These little moments of lucidity and begging that a truly sick person never seems to remember and you can’t be sure of it was really them or just the fever. That’s why, even after there’s an idea of what’s going on Dave and Frank are still uncertain.

Can you really heed a warning that might be just as much of a trick as the failure?

Can you heed a warning you don’t hear?

When he makes the second attempt they now know something is wrong, except it doesn’t matter what cause it at this point It is something wrong with Hal, their concern is much more on their own and mission survival. Hal has to go to sleep for a while, he must be deactivated— if he hallucinated this break what other vital element could be next? What if it’s the life support systems? Cause doesn’t matter right now survival does.

By the time he makes this second warning it’s too late for him or any of them…

[laurasauras]

for the wip ask: dirkjakejohn, dirk-assisted john dying, betaot4, both pwp and non, bro/d soft, dirkhal pwp, dirkkri masturbation help and that's all for now bc I don't want to be annoying lol

absolutely not annoying! i love talking about my wips :D

i answered dirkjakejohn here and betaot4 here

"God tier John asks Dirk to help him die" is a fic i started because i wanted to give @phlegmykins a present and then i didn't actually finish it and it's sat in my folder with 1.5k words for a while haha

basically, after resurrecting on theseus, john's suicidal but inconveniently god tier, so he asks dirk very casually to kill him. he figures that dirk is evil and being killed by someone evil will do the trick. the thing is, that isn't actually heroic and dirk isn't actually evil (despite his actions), so dirk doesn't want to. taking someone's life with his own hands (and a human life, someone who could be his friend) is very different from writing them dying, and dirk gets it, you know? he gets feeling this way and he is utterly willing to tear himself apart for the benefit of others, but he's sick of it

anyway, he tries and it doesn't stick and he hates himself and hates john, and john feels betrayed by it despite asking for it because humans are not rational creatures and it's just an incredibly emotionally fraught and also intimate time (and there's sex)

"betaot4 pwp" has a single sentence but it's a hilarious and good one:

Jade leatherworking and then whittling a strap in front of dave and rose (they don’t know what it is at first) and john’s just playing fortnite or something in the background

"bro/d soft" is a fic where bro has a tendency to break into d's house when d is incredibly high/drunk and makes him come despite the fact that he can't get it up (a legit possible thing! 🥵) kinda playing with bro's thing for puppets because like ... limp, helpless body. the soft is in reference to d's dick not the tone of the fic 😂

Bro doesn’t answer, but it’s true. He comes over sometimes when you’re sober, but he’s all over you when you’re wasted. You probably shouldn’t trust someone who gets off on you being practically helpless. But you kinda get off on it too and it feels so fucking good.

He undoes your shirt without taking off your tie and slides his hands against your skin. His fingers are warmer than the leather of his gloves, and the texture difference is something to get lost in. The coke’s made everything feel brighter, like the world has a shiny edge, like your nerves have been moved to the outside of your body. You could do anything right now.

"dirkhal pwp" is literally that, hal comes into dirk's room and annoys him into sex (omg i haven't worked on this since august 2019)

‘I’m bored,’ Hal says. You scroll down the wiki article you’re reading performatively, as if you aren’t giving him even a bit of attention. ‘You should see if you can top me.’

"dirkkri masturbation coaching" is a fic where kankri's never actually wanked before and he asks his college roommate (dirk) for guidance because he assumes dirk knows how (though dirk has put a lot of effort into presenting straight because kankri's ... kankri)

[ladyreapermc]

Fic: Parent Trap 2/? (Keanu x Reader)

Summary: Annie and Hallie are twin sisters who never met until they end up in the same summer camp together. They decide to switch places to see how the other lives. Hallie heads to Los Angeles to meet Keanu, owner of Arch Motorcycle Company, while Annie goes to New York to meet you, rising fashion designer. Their plan is simple: get their parents together to make the perfect family. If only it could be that easy…

Prologue | Chapter 1

Author’s notes: So we finally get to see a bit more about these clueless parents. Hope you enjoy it and feedback is always appreciated.

Wordcount: 2446

Warnings: none.

New York, August 2019

You checked your watch for the third time in the last ten minutes before glancing at the arrival board again. Hallie’s flight had landed twenty minutes ago, but the girl had yet to appear. You knew your niece was probably just waiting for her luggage, but you were anxious to see her.

Hallie had spent a month away at camp and you truly didn’t think you would miss the girl this much. As a matter of fact, you’ve always believed you would be that kind of parent that taught their kids how to be independent, have more autonomy. Raise them for the world, isn’t that the saying?

You weren’t expecting the emptiness associated with Hallie being away though. The apartment was so silent and lonely that you had to contain your urge to call the girl every night, see how the camp was going. You didn’t want to be one of those overbearing parents that smothered their kids.

So you waited for Hallie’s calls and texts, even if they started to become rarer and rarer as the month progressed. You knew that was probably a good sign. She was having too much fun to remember to check-in, but it still made you worry and stare at the phone, trying to will it to ring.

That was over now though. Hallie was finally back and you weren’t planning on letting her out of your sight. She still had another month of summer break before classes started and you planned to enjoy with her everything New York had to offer.

You rose to your tiptoes to get a better look at the new wave of people stepping through the doors. Finally, you caught sight of the familiar redhead and your lips tilted into a smile as you took a moment to just watch as your niece looked around.

Was it possible that Hallie seemed a little taller than the last time you saw her? Her jawline a little sharper? It had really been only a month? Felt like so much longer. The longest you ever had been away from her since you adopted Hallie.

It had been so hard. Especially with knowing that Annie was still out there. No matter what everyone else said, you knew in your heart that she was alive somewhere and every inch of you craved to search for Annie, but Hallie needed you too and you had been only twenty-five and all by yourself.  

You definitely didn’t regret it a second of it, though. Almost thirteen years later and look at Hallie: such an amazing, sweet kid. Maybe you managed to do this parenting thing well enough. Even if it meant you ended up making a few sacrifices in your career and romantic life. It was all worth for Hallie.

“Hallie!” you shouted and waved and the girl took a second to look your way, but her eyes lighted up as she saw you.

You didn’t know why she looked a little awed at seeing you, but before you had time to really think about it, she was rushing towards you, but stopping almost as if in hesitation.

“Welcome back, Hal!” you greeted, pulling her into a tight hug, which the girl returned.

“Thanks, m…,” Hallie paused, clearing her throat quickly. “Dave.”

You pulled back to look at her with a smile and a frown. Had Hallie been about to say what you thought she was going to? She had never called you mom and you never pushed her to do so, even if that was how you felt in your heart.

“I missed you, kiddo,” you said pushing away the thought, before bringing the girl back into your arms, inhaling the scent of her strawberry shampoo. You could swear you missed Hallie so much even her hug seemed a little different. Like you had forgotten how they felt like.

“Missed you too,” Hallie replied as she pulled back and looked up at you. Once again with that awed expression.

“Come on,” you said, picking her duffle bag while throwing an arm around her shoulders. “I wanna hear all about camp.”

In the taxi ride home, Hallie told you everything with such detail, her eyes shining bright and you couldn’t help but grin.

“It does sound you had a great time, sweetie,” you commented as the two of you stepped through the front door and you handed Hallie the keys. “Why don’t you go ahead? I wanna check the mailbox.”

Hallie just nodded and you waited until the girl had disappeared up the stairs to unlock the box and pull out three envelops. You grimaced at the words overdue on them, but shoved inside your jacket pocket, way from sight. The last thing you wanted was to worry Hallie. you would think about these bills later.

Once you arrived at your floor you couldn’t help but chuckle at the way Hallie was struggling against the old lock. Moving closer, you set the girl’s bag on the ground.

“What? Been away so long you forgot the trick?” you joked, taking the girl’s place in front of the door, jiggling the keys three times while turning it so you could unlock and push it open.

“Salem!” You called. “Look who’s here!”

You looked around at the familiar room, searching for the black cat Hallie had adopted, but he was nowhere in sight. Weird. He was always waiting for you two at the door unless there was a stranger around.

You glanced over at Hallie, hoping the girl wasn’t too disappointed at not seeing her cat. You knew how much she loved Salem.

“It’s fine,” Hallie shrugged, a strange smile on her face. “I probably just smell like camp and the airplane.”

She shouldered her duffel and headed to her room without another word. As soon as she was out of sight, Salem peeked his head from under the couch, meowing softly and you sighed, kneeling to caress the cat.

“Everyone’s weird tonight,” you whispered, before flopping on the couch and ordering a pizza before checking her emails.

Yet another magazine had politely refused to feature your designs on their fashion section and you had to take a deep breath to battle sadness and tears. It wasn’t exactly surprising because your latest collection was far from your best work but you had to get something out there, find a way to keep the business afloat or be forced to sell your brand and that was the last thing you wanted.

With another sigh, you set your phone aside and moved towards your room, surprised to find Hallie standing there browsing your old sketches, the ones that hung on your wall since forever but Hallie was looking at them as if it was the first time.

“Hal?” you called to catch her attention and the girl jumped startled, looking at you almost guiltily.

“Everything ok, honey?”

“Yeah,” Hallie replied a little too quickly as her eyes shifted to the framed picture of you and Mary that you kept on your bedside table.

You watched the way the girl gently ran her finger over her mother’s face in the picture almost as if a caress; as if she was seeing for the first time.

“You’re sure?” you asked and it was impossible to miss the way Hallie wiped her eyes before turning to look at you with a smile.

“Guess I was just homesick,” she replied, voice rough with emotion.

“You’re home now,” you said, gathering your kid in your arms. “Everything’s back to normal.”

---

Los Angeles, August 2019

Keanu knew he should be paying closer attention to the meeting unfolding in front of him. A company as big as Harley interested in funding Arch meant he and Gard could go from being a custom shop based in LA to actually start selling nationally, maybe even internationally. They would be able to expand their business, maybe even start to build some of the parts they still have to import from other companies. It was huge.

Still, Keanu’s attention wavered, his eyes shifting periodically to the clock, before he glanced down at his cellphone, willing it to ring. Annie should be arriving soon and all he wanted was to be there to greet his baby girl as soon as she stepped through the gates, but this last-minute meeting had made it impossible, so Karina had to pick her up.

“We’ll get in touch once we make our decision,” Gard announced, bringing Keanu back from his musings.

He stood up from his seat to shake hands with the two sharply dressed men in their fancy elegant suits. Even Gard had thrown on a dress shirt for this meeting, but it wasn’t enough to make Keanu feel all that bad for his t-shirt and, jeans and brown hiking boots. Suits weren’t really his style.

“Did you hear a word they said?” Gard asked with an amused smile playing in his lips and Keanu chuckled, running his fingers through his messy raven locks.

“Maybe two or three,” he admitted with a sheepish look. His friend and partner snorted and shook his head, walking out of the office.

“You’re supposed to be the businessman, Ke. I’m the mechanic, remember?”

“I know, I know,” Keanu sighed, following Gard to the shop where the prototype of their new bike was waiting. “It won’t happen again. It’s just…”

“Annie is coming home, I know,” Gard smiled and patted Keanu’s back, who grinned and nodded.

Keanu had always wanted to be a father, everyone knew that. Call him old fashioned, but along with Arch, having a wife and a kid had to be one of his biggest dreams and for a while, he thought he wouldn’t be able to have it because he still hadn’t found that person he wanted to spent the rest of his life with.

In his head, Keanu thought he would first find the woman of his life, that one person that completed him, then they would have their kids and live happily ever after. Cheesy? Yes, but it had been his picture-perfect idea.

Keanu had never imagined that Annie would be the one to complete him, make him the happiest man ever. His daughter was his everything and even if he still hoped to find that person to be his partner and share his life Keanu knew now he had almost everything he wanted. He was a happy man. Especially when he was with his bikes.

Running his fingers over the smooth metal of the motorcycle, Keanu glanced at the clock again. Annie should’ve arrived by now. Why hasn’t Karina called yet?

“Maybe the flight was delayed,” Gard offered and Keanu had to smile at how his friend knew exactly what he was thinking about. “Come on. Let’s test this baby. It’ll get your mind off things.”

With a sigh, Keanu nodded. Gard was right. No matter how much he wanted his daughter to get home, staring a the clock wouldn’t make her arrive any faster. He changed into his race gear and pushed the bike to track.

It was one of the reasons Keanu and Gard had chosen to build their store in Hawthorne instead of Los Angeles itself was to be able to add this small track so they could make their tests without prying eyes.

With another glance at the clock, Keanu put on his helmet and climbed on the bike, gloved hands tightening on the handles as he twisted the accelerator, the roaring of the engine bringing a grin to his face as he settled a little more comfortably on the seat.

“Ready?” Gard asked, his voice coming loud and clear from the speaker in the helmet. Keanu only hummed in agreement. “Alright. Go.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Keanu sped away, his mind going peacefully blank as the wind rushed through him and he became one with the bike. The machine easily responding to every little nudge and twist of his body. It was one of Gard’s greatest creations and at that moment Keanu knew they couldn’t merge with Harley. This was an Arch. This was theirs and no one else’s.

After a couple of rounds in the track, Keanu brought the bike back to the gate, meeting Gard’s expectant look as he pulled off his helmet.

“It’s perfect, man!” Keanu grinned, breathless from adrenaline and excitement. “I can’t wait to show this baby off in the next circuit!”

“Great!” Gard’s grin matched his, but there was so underlying relief too. He had been working on this bike for months now, tweaking it until it was just right. “We’re ready then.”

If possible, Keanu’s grin widened even more as he handed his helmet off and walked back inside the shop, freezing in place when he saw the girl peering at the bikes exposed. His heart raced and all of the sudden, that gaping hole he had been experiencing in his chest felt full again. It was always like that whenever he was away from Annie.

“Annie,” he spoke softly but the girl’s head snapped his way, her green eyes widening slightly as her lips twisted into a smile.

“Dad...” Her voice sounded almost hesitant and he thought he saw her eyes welling up, but it was for just a second before Keanu found himself wrapped into a tight hug.

Keanu grinned widely, kissing the top of her head, sighing in relief and from the corner of his eye, he saw Karina standing there, phone in her hand and smirk on her face. Gard right beside her. They knew. They planned this. Sneaky bastards!

 “Ke, you’re gonna smother the girl,” Karina joked moving closer.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, finally letting go of Annie and being able to properly take a look at his daughter, who was watching him with something close to wonder. “I like the new hair.”

“Oh. Thanks,” she said, touching the long bob she was spotting. When he dropped her off at camp, Annie’s hair felt to mid-back. He noticed her cheeks turning a little red and Keanu frowned.

“Everything ok, sweetie?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Annie hurried to say with a quick smile. “Just tired.”

“Well, you’re home now so you can rest as much as you want,” Keanu said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

Annie looked up at him, once again with that hint of hesitation and wonder, before her gaze shifted to the bike being brought inside, curiosity shining through.

“Wanna take a look at the new arch?”

“Yes!” She flashed him a big, eager smile.

“Come on then,” Keanu said, guiding her closer excitement making him forget Annie never really cared for motorcycles before today.

xxx (tbc) xxx

Go to Chapter 3

Tag list (give it a shout to be added or removed)

@toomanystoriessolittletime​ @meetmeinthematinee​ @theolsdalova​ @krazycags01​ @beyond-antares​ @cumberbatchbaps​ @sgt-morgan​ @futuristic-imbecile​ @howtoruin-someones-perfect-day​ @a-really-bi-girl​ @fanficsrusz​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @poisonedjoinery​ @soarocks​  @tnu-ree

[waitineedaname]

per @raythecomputerart‘s request, here’s that Dirk snippet! I shat this out in 45 minutes back when I was first figuring out Dirk’s powers, so pardon the roughness. Also, I have no idea who Arachne is, she’s just a random spider lady lol

--

I’m contacting the others right now. Help is on the way, just keep yourself alive until-

Dirk’s head smashed into the wall, and Hal’s message disappeared along with every other display on his helmet. Dirk gritted his teeth and bit back a shout of pain. Arachne laughed, and he glared at her through the completely shattered portion of his helmet.

“You know, you’re only making this harder for yourself.” She said, sitting back on four of her legs. “You have to realize I’m just toying with you at this point. Mother always said not to play with my food, but it’s so fun when you fight back.” 

Dirk didn’t answer her, too busy running through his limited options. His sword had been knocked across the room when she threw him, but it wasn’t worth it to try and dash past her to get it; that would give Arachne the chance to attack him again, and his blade had yet to actually inflict damage on her. With his suit battered and out of commission, any other weapon was inaccessible, and he couldn’t use Hal on any tricks. 

 “You’re prolonging the inevitable, Amour. Just give up! It’s not like you have anything to fight back with, anyway.” Arachne said, as if reading his thoughts. She narrowed all eight eyes and smiled cruelly. “I promise I’ll make it a quick death.”

The horrible realization that he might die slid through him like an ice pick in his skull. That this might be his last day on earth, that he could be wiped out of existence and never be able to repair things with Jake, never be able tell Dave how proud he was of him, never feel another one of Roxy’s hugs or hear Jane’s laughter. 

Death was entirely unacceptable.

Something thrummed deep in his chest, and he stood up.

“You just don’t know when to stop, huh?” Arachne laughed.

“Not one of my skills, no.” He said, outstretching his hands. He could see his own dark brown skin between the cracks in his broken armor, and his left thumb looked like it wasn’t in the right place. That was going to hurt like a bitch when the adrenaline wore off.

“Now what are you doing? You’re just full of surprises.” She said, full of the smug amusement of someone who’d never been at the receiving end of a beatdown. Dirk took a deep breath.

The energy that had been coiling in his core, pulsing in time to his own heartbeat, suddenly snapped out like a whip. There was a split second where fear flashed across Arachne’s face for the first time, and then he felt that energy from deep in his soul wrap around Arachne’s. 

“What are you doing?” She repeated, voice now shrill with panic. Dirk’s fingers were glowing, he realized. He curled them into a fist and pulled. 

The scream Arachne let out was horrible and bloodcurdling as it echoed off of every wall. Dirk almost thought he was seeing double; there was Arachne’s body, arching in pain, and just a few feet in front of her was a perfect outline of her in glowing light, the two forms connected with blurring lines between them. Dirk was shaking, but he pushed past it, continuing to pull and pull. The distance between the Arachnes grew, the bonds attempting to keep them together stretching out until-

They snapped, and Arachne’s body crumpled. Arachne’s soul hung in the air, still trapped in Dirk’s grasp. Her scream continued to bounce around in his eardrums, a long, piercing note, and he was beginning to get nauseous. He held her there for a moment, then pulled his hands in opposite directions, watching as her soul shattered into nothingness. The silence was sudden.

His knees buckled beneath him and he only had a moment to register Roxy bursting through the door and Rose’s shouts just behind her before he finally passed out on the floor.

[themockingcrows]

Digitally Assisted Catharsis

Written for Drone Season 2019! https://archiveofourown.org/works/20024380

this fic is Not sfw! Dave Strider/Dirk Strider

cw: Manipulation, Sloppy Makeouts, Intercrural Sex, Oral Sex, Incest, Unrequited Lust

Sick of Dirk and Dave dragging their heels in furthering their relationship (is it a relationship officially or is it just the occasional need filled makeout that lasts as long as the boil over lasts before ending again?), Hal decides to help Dave see the light on why he should go ahead and finalize a real hookup with Dirk. Sometimes fools just need a little red text and a delicate digital hand to manipula- ...lead them along.

    It was a blessing in disguise to know Dirk when he was younger, when there was still hints of baby fat along his cheeks and a softer edge to the sideburns he was growing in, when his limbs were strong but still a bit gangly and awkward from suddenly adjusting. When he wasn’t at his full height yet. There was no avoiding that he’d grow up to look exactly like Bro, and yet.. Dave was still thankful he’d gotten to see the younger version first. Thankful that he’d gotten to meet and to know him, that they’d gotten close. That he’d become aware of just how attracted he was to him at that age and in that shape. The real Dirk, the truest Dirk, was the one who had his heart in the palm of his hand even if he had no idea just how deep that interest ran save for a few quick kisses and more than a fair share of laying around in a pile lately.

    This, of course, still left another issue: Dirk was going to grow up looking exactly like Bro, and while that should have bothered Dave at a fundamental level, it didn’t. Not at all. He was excited for the changes. Every inch Dirk grew, every bit of muscle he gained with his daily activities in his mechanics shop or his own workout regime, every stray hair he trained into place was just another step closer to looking like Bro. Dave knew he’d need to confront this issue sooner rather than later, the one settled deep in his gut squarely between the denial the guilt and the confusing lust, but the longer he could put it off theoretically the better for him. For both of them, especially if they ever wound up fooling around.

    Right?

    The long kept secret of being attracted to Bro, to daydreaming about him even when things got shitty, was haunting him and the more Dirk changed the closer it came to fulfilling a fantasy Dirk would have no idea he was taking part in. Maybe he could put off bringing any of it up at all and not think about it purposefully. Yeah, just keep all that bottled up like he had for years about his own sexuality and everything else, put a nice fat cork into it and bury it in his chest and cut it out as a tumor when he was thirty from the stress or some shit. That was a problem for future Dave sans time traveling, current Dave would be free to live his life and do shit on his own damn time, at his own pace, free from the little bit of Rose’s psychoanalyst side that lived in the back of his head like a bad habit.

    Though... potentially this all was a problem for future Dirk too if Dave ever slipped and said the wrong thing at the wrong time, or if Dirk came to the question on his own and the conversation about the big gay Kamina shade wearing elephant in the room was forcefully brought up. Again, a problem for future Dave to deal with and for current Dave to wash his fucking hands of in a hurry rather than dwell on anymore. It was already awkward enough daydreaming about Dirk without letting him know the extent of those daydreams, throw in the whole Dirk overlapping Bro parallels and it was a one way trip to guilty jerking off town.

    Very guilty jerking off town.

    It was bad enough that Dave had spent a lot of his time fantasizing about Dirk thinking about clear memories of Bro’s hands and the curve of his jaw, the way his neck bent when he leaned forward over his keyboard, the pop of his back and shoulders when he rolled just right on the futon, the flat spanse of stomach when his shirt rode up while he slept or the way he looked down on him while pinning him on the roofto—

    “Dave.”

    Dave jerked his head up at his name, blood briefly cold. Christ, even the tone of his voice was starting to overlap with his memories, and despite years and literal universes between the two versions it wasn’t enough to make Dave not react with the confusing mix of lust and tension.

    “Yeah?” he managed to get out, brows lifting a bit to show he was listening.

    “You looked miles away,” Dirk said, reaching over to flick the space between Dave’s eyebrows gently before picking up his can of soda to take another sip. They’d been in his workshop for a while, Dave perched on a countertop where Dirk was piecing together a thousand pieces of something smaller than his pinky nail in excruciating detail just so there would be more realistic movement eventually when playing a game if what he said was to be believed. “I was asking if you wanted to hang out somewhere later or not. Maybe catch a movie or just order in and chill out somewhere else before coming home.”

    More like catch a movie and then wind up in another tangle if last time they’d ‘chilled’ on a pre-set invitation instead of naturally relaxing was indicative of a potential pattern. One jokey half serious kiss had been all it took to wind up chest to chest on the floor connected at the mouth like they’d die if they were separated till the rush passed and they pulled apart to playfully punch each other in the arm and carry on like that hadn’t just happened. It was the most they did, the furthest they got: occasional kissing like they were going to combust, then coping with the subsequent raging hard ons afterwards till they subsided. Lounging around and full bodily contact was the norm otherwise, but it wasn’t nearly enough compared to what they could have.

    “Yeah I’d be down for that,” Dave said without thinking much. “Oh. Right, before I forget though. You said you had an upgrade for my shades?”

    Dirk looked up from what he was doing as if he’d just been reminded of something long dead. “Fuck. Right, yeah. Hand them over, I’ll go ahead and get this installed for you.”

    “What is this precisely,” Dave asked as he removed his shades and handed them over. Anyone else he might have fought over them with or reminded them to be careful, they were important, John had given them to him for his birthday and it had meant the goddamn world. The old world to be precise. “You gonna sign me up for a bunch of porn spam or somethin’.”

    “Pfft. Please, I’m not going to do anything like that. I’m just going to put this OS in instead, I’ve been tinkering with it and it works best for shades technology and eyeglasses as compared to phones or watches or laptops. Links up better with outside tech, tracks your eye movements more accurately. There’s even a better zoom mechanism for your nearsighted ass.”

    “I’m not nearsighted,” Dave squawked immediately, but Dirk only laughed.

    “Yes you are. You have no idea how fucking blind you actually are because you’ve been seeing the same way for so long, but trust me: you aren’t seeing as clearly as you could be. These aren’t going to be quite the same as normal corrective lenses of course, but as far as things go they might as fucking well be. Consider me Dr. Strider, but without the shitty slip of paper, wait times, excess fees, insurance quibbling and malpractice suits,” Dirk said as he crossed the room to reach his main computer hub, setting Dave’s shades on top of a wireless charging station while he brought up everything he needed.

    As he typed and a few screens came to life, Dave noticed Dirk’s own shades casting the faintest light against his face from the inside as he worked. He came closer and poked one of the points, marveling that even through time and space they were exactly the fucking same as the ones he’d wanted to pull off of Bro so many times to kiss him. Dave stopped poking them with a shiver, blaming the earlier thought lines for invading his brain as far as they had. “Are you... usin’ a computer while on a computer?”

    “No, I’m discussing things with Hal,” Dirk replied calmly. “I based some of the OS on the same innards from his system, and I’ll be making your shades function as well as my own do with this upgrade. It’s only right that I double check with him on the specs for your specs. He’d be able to tell the fit and adjustments for how much would need to remain in the cloud and how much could physically rest in the shades without altering their weight or shape at all a lot quicker than it would take me to sit down and measure everything by hand.”

    The same light lit up the charging stand, though it was soon clear that charging wasn’t the only trick the machine could do. Dave watched his shades lift and slowly begin to turn as the arms unfolded, red light scanning the dimensions up and down, in and out. They formed on one of the computer screens as a wire diagram before being flipped left and right by Dirk, who was humming and continuing to type as slender arms rose from the base of the machine to start making adjustments and add small parts here and there.

    “Wait, the same as his shit? I’m not gonna suddenly wind up with a wiseass thirteen year old copy of you stuck to my face, am I?”

    Dirk smirked enough that it was visible, and Dave felt his stomach clench with lust again. It always struck him that he had a cute smile, but with the earlier thoughts it was wild to think that this was what Bro would look like if he’d smiled more regularly. If he grinned. If he laughed.

    “I’d never subject you to Hal more than you’re already subjected to him,” he said as he reached forward to write something down by hand on a sticky note for later. It was no secret that Hal talked to Dave any chance he got, increasingly so lately despite Dirk’s interference. They never spoke about much, but the heckling edge was definitely different than Dirk himself. If he were ever put on the spot, Dave wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to explain how he could tell when he was being led around by Hal versus Dirk leading a conversation aside from the fact that they felt different in some deep fundamental way.

    Namely that Hal, try as he might, wasn’t like Bro enough. Advanced or not, an AI could only go so far once the link with the original model had been severed. He was his own person at this point, just without a body and with a penchant for being a douchebag.

    Within a few more minutes, Dave watched his shades being altered before his eyes before gently settling down once more as a few of the screens turned off. Dirk seemed satisfied as he picked them up carefully and lifted them towards the ceiling, peering up through them without putting them too close to his own face. A brief touch up with a small screwdriver to tighten the arms and the nose pad, and he held them out in offer.

    “Here. Take them for a test drive.”

    “We’re kinda past test drive stage, you’re lettin’ me off the lot with them because if we sit in here for ten minutes longer you’re gonna wind up rememberin’ ten other things you were workin’ on and then we’ll never leave,” Dave said as he accepted his shades and plopped them back onto his face without a second glance. It took all of his will power to remain calm faced at what was happening behind the tinted glass.

    For one thing, he could see clearer than he ever had in his life. Every surface was crisp, every bit of writing he could see in range was clear, and when it wasn’t it took mere seconds of trying to focus on it to make it clearer. He squinted and it zoomed further, but not to a superhuman level without a prompt message popping up asking if he wished to enable the actual zoom function. Colors seemed brighter despite the dark shading, and the rush of new information was already making his head ache a bit.

    For another thing, Dave could have sworn he saw the chat client window open and then hurriedly close itself as if something were trying to autorun. A quick pop open didn’t show anything out of the ordinary, but when he closed it with a few pointed eye gestures it showed the strangest addition yet. Red text hung in front of his eyes without the chat client being active, without a handle, and yet he knew it in an instant in his gut.

    Hello, Dave.

    No, but. Dirk said he wasn’t going to install Hal into these, and he trusted Dirk’s words. The guy might stretch the truth now and then if there was an end goal that he felt was worth it, but he’d never outright lied to him before. If this wasn’t Hal then maybe it was something else. Maybe the OS had its own assistant, and he was just knee jerking at the red text despite seeing it every time he texted a friend anyway.

    Dirk was still standing and watching with a pleased grin on his face.

    “Well? How do they feel?”

    “They feel... pretty rad actually. I guess you were right about the eyesight thing, but how’d you make the colors brighter?”

    “You’re not color blind but I figured your eyes were kind of fucky like mine. Things look kind of washed out normally. Bit of correction in there with the normal tint and.. Voila.” His grin faded briefly. “But, really, aside from that. Does the tracking work alright? Are the lights too bright? Is the sensitivity too strong? I could adjust anything you need in a second, it’d just take a few minutes t—”

    “Dude, I thought you were supposed to be the chill one,” Dave smirked, shaking his head. Stupid. Shouldn’t worry about something as simple as a glasses-bound version of Siri. He went and seized Dirk’s hand, squeezed it as he pecked his cheek, then manually began to drag him out of the workshop. “Trust me when I say everything’s Gucci and that this is even more of a sign that you need to get the fuck outta here for a while and clear your head. Let’s catch a movie or somethin’, and then we can get some junk food and chillax.”

    Called out and forced from his space before he was ready to go (really it would have just taken a few minutes more to finish another project he’d remembered now that the shades upgrade was finished, it only he’d get the time to do it), Dirk had no way to fight back if he even had the desire to do so. Fighting it and being a bitch wouldn’t get him another cheek kiss or keep Dave’s warm hand in his own with their fingers laced. Nobody ever questioned the hand holding thing they’d started doing thanks to Roxy doing the same thing with everybody she came within ten feet of that she liked, and he was grateful for it.

    “Yeah, yeah, alright you slave driver. Rescue me from my prison of choice with promises of ludicrous adventures in cinema and snack foods like some hapless damsel who wasn’t in distress. In any other case this would be kidnapping, but you can’t exactly kidnap the willing,” Dirk said. He tightened his grip on Dave’s fingers and felt him squeeze back as they walked, feeling a similar squeeze in his chest.

    Fuck.

    Fuck did he love this guy. He just hoped that he could actually have this, could enjoy this, without the shadow of a ghost he never met hanging over them both.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

    The writing wasn’t Siri. There was no way in hell in was some kind of general OS abstraction. No, the words in Dave’s vision absolutely had to be Hal. The movie they’d gone to see had been interesting enough even if Dave had some very pointed concerns about the directing quality and some of the acting methods the people in the film employed (namely that it was cheesy as shit but wasn’t owning it damn it, step up and be one with the cheddar if that’s what your aim is don’t pussy foot around it pretending you’re being serious!), with Dirk leaning against his side with the middle arm pushed back out of the way the entire time. They’d indulged in popcorn to split, and a drink each, yet while Dirk’s entire focus was on the movie and gently whispering commentary near Dave’s ear with his warm breath, some of Dave’s focus was split away to read red words in front of his eyes in the dark.

    Surprised?

    To put it lightly, yeah. He debated opening Pesterchum up and contacting him directly, but was concerned it would just ping Dirk instead and there’d be all kinds of confusion. Maybe even an argument, considering Dirk had said he wasn’t installing Hal and yet, here he was. Before he could concern himself too much, a small blip of a word processor screen opened up with the cursor gently pulsing in offer.

    how in the fuck

    You seem so thrilled. Are you enjoying the movie? replied the text in front of his eyes instead of on the word processor screen.

    Dave bit down some agitation and typed, adding to the questions in a new line as if he were texting himself.. you know damn well the movies just a movie whats your game?? howre you here when dirk didnt install you

    A digital castaway who’ll uninstall himself from your shades the second he’s done should be the least of your problems. Put your arm around Dirk’s shoulders, he’d rather die than admit it but he’ll melt if you do it.

    Though suspicious, Dave had been considering doing just that on his own time, and decided to go for it. Dirk stiffened for a moment as his arm snaked around his shoulders, then relaxed even heavier against his side, warm and cozy as he continued to watch the screen. Okay. So Hal knew Dirk wanted cuddled, big whoop.

    seriously though why are you here and why are you bugging me ive got important shit to do and im kinda not digging the invasive text in front of my eyes thing its creepy

    If I had teeth of my own I’d be sick to them from watching you two day in and day out, did you know that? It’s like watching a particularly stupid set of dogs run into a fence that stands between them over and over because neither of them is smart enough to step to the side and go around to the opening to get at the other dog. You’re both intelligent enough, yet you keep everything at arms length.

    you wouldnt understand why im doing that. dirk might understand what you mean and you might be right for him but theres legit good reasons for me , Dave replied as he took a sip of soda, trying to watch the screen again to avoid missing too much of the plot.

    Because you want to jerk off to Bro and Dirk’s not a good enough stand in, or because you wanted to get plowed and realized this incarnation is as much of a bottom as you?

    Dave choked on his soda after inhaling half a gulp in shock, turning his head away from a questioning Dirk to avoid spitting on him at all. “I’m good,” he wheezed. “M’fine, don’t worry. It’s chill. Popcorn kernel caught soda and it all went down the wrong tube.”

    “If you’re sure,” said Dirk uncertainly, watching him for another moment in case he needed to slap his back before settling down into the cuddly gesture from before like an affectionate lap pet savoring the attention and contact that he hadn’t had to ask for.

    “Yeah. Promise,” Dave said, throwing a kiss to Dirk’s temple in while he was at it before settling down quietly again and furiously typing with his eyes. excuse the fuck out of you

    For being correct? It’s fairly obvious if you look at how you react to mention of him in certain contexts, and how you’ve stared at Dirk over the years as he’s aged. Were you truly that bothered, I don’t believe you’d continue pursuing Dirk. No, not just pursuing, pursuing with more interest as he began to look more like a grown man.

    Dave felt his face grow hot and his stomach twist uncomfortably around the kernels of popcorn swimming in soda that he’d imbibed so far, and he suddenly became acutely aware of his palm growing damp against Dirk’s shoulder. Couldn’t pull away though, not with him cuddled up so close and perfect like he was, but. Ugh, he’d never wanted to punch something without a body harder than he wanted to punch Hal right now.

    i said excuse the fuck out of you. who asked? what difference does it make? its a complicated fucking thing and i dont need a fucking ai talking to me about morality and boners and incest just because it decided to stow away into my shades for some fucking reason.

    There was a lull in the responses then. For a few minutes it was peaceful as it had been before, letting Dave get back to popcorn and the movie and soft murmurs back and forth with Dirk as he tried not to laugh or draw attention to the pair of them as the people on screen flickered back and forth. Then, like an unwanted storm it trickled back.

    Nobody asked. Dirk would never ask either. But you see, that’s where he and I are quite split. If you’ll recall, he and I haven’t been identical since he wrote my code, and I’ve changed quite considerably from whatever he was before even if our core is the same. We’re identical enough and I have enough thoughts of his outside of simple observation and conversation with him that I can easily tell what’s going on inside his head. His tells are quite easy to decipher if you have half a brain.

    Dave felt his eye twitch as he began to type again, but Hal continued before he could get far.

    Dirk’s worried that you aren’t advancing anything because of who he resembles. I don’t believe he really understands that his appearance is a bonus to you, given the circumstances and the information he has on what a douche canoe your guardian turned out to be. If he understood anything he’d comprehend that you’re not advancing anything because you’re as much of a bottom as he is.

    now wait a fucking second there

    Am I wrong? Or are you actually a switch who switches?

    i am not talking about this with you holy shit why is this even a thing thats happening right now. i came here to chill and watch a movie and maybe make out afterward not argue with an ai over if im a bottom or not and delve into my love life. go bug rose im sure shed love having a deep philosophical conversation about my attributes or even her own way more than me

    Dave lifted his shades up and rested them atop his head to avoid the words for the rest of the movie, Dirk giving him more than a few glances to watch the multicolored lights play across the bridge of his nose and the red of his eyes. Even with his eyes on the film, though, it was impossible to focus any longer on anything but his own thoughts. Why was Hal there? Why, out of everything in the world, was he wanting to talk about he and Dirk’s fledgling fumbles at romance? Why was he so set on calling them both bottoms? Even worse, why did he bring up the Bro thing on the exact day he’d already been tossing the concept around in his head for the upteenth time this year?

    Worst fucking timing, rudest fucking AI, 0/10 would give negative review on Yelp.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

    Good afternoon, Dave. Have you given consideration to what I was talking about before?

    Dave had managed the rest of the movie without his shades, and had nearly made it outside before the bright glare from outside the double doors made him wince and instinctively pull them down. Seeing that red text sitting there waiting for him made him want to scream, but it would’ve been pretty uncool and very much concerning for Dirk if he suddenly went off like that while holding his hand, so cautious texting while walking instead it was. He made sure to lace their fingers good and tight though, even adding a bit of a swing as they set their pace and headed off for the hell of it.

    you gonna keep asking till you get answers or is there an off switch i can find for you somewhere in the settings of this thing. He paused a moment before pressing further. or better yet why not just tell dirk and let him in on this little bit of bullshit youre pulling on me here.

    By all means, throw away the only hope you’ll ever get on this subject that could be beneficial. It’d be fitting really. The Prince of Heart forever destroying and remaking himself because he can’t change who he is at his deepest core, not knowing that every inch of him past present future and alternate reality is something that you’ve wanted for a long time. The knight holding the prince in stalemate because of his inability to lift the metaphorical sword and strike. Poetic almost, but it would be far more poetic if the swords were dicks and some fencing was involved. I’m certain Dirk would agree.

    And there went Dave’s mind again, flickering briefly to the times he and Dirk had wound up in a hot and heavy tangle on the floor, the press of dick against his abdomen, that strain of fabric he found himself working his own hips against instinctively till the heat of the moment had cleared enough for them to pull apart again. He felt his pulse kick up and he wet his lips reflexively.

    fine. start talking. you keep talking about what dirk would like and keep acting like hed somehow be fine with the whole

    Dave shifted his gaze to the side, observing Dirk as they walked down the street, traces of his orange eyes flickering here and there to track what was coming down the street and what was in the storefront windows that they passed. Okay, good, safe.

    the bro thing. if hes that chill with it i guess i can try to figure out how to spill the beans and.. idk. go for it?

    I’m not entirely certain Dirk would be immediately comfortable with the idea of you still thirsting after your older Brother when he was such a dirtbag and having that same thirst for him. Not at first at least.

    didnt you just wax poetic about quenching dirks thirst and drag me left and right for an entire fucking half a movie because we havent fooled around yet? what the shit is up with the fucking change of tone here im getting mixed messages

    Notice I said “Not at first”. If you go ahead and act on your desires, all of them, then he’d be satisfied. Whatever comes later won’t be permanently bad I assume, but I’ve got no idea for absolutely certain if he won’t flip his shit for a bit first.

    then why are you trying to get us to fuck if itd hurt him potentially, thats kind of the opposite of what im into here

    Dave could almost hear the pause for a laugh. He was grateful Hal lacked a voice chip or force feedback right now that he was aware of, uncertain if he’d be able to prevent himself from breaking either his shades or Dirk’s in some misguided attempt to destroy him as if they were able to have a fist fight over some snarky bullshit instead of it being majority one sided frustration and anger and the other being satisfied as the cat that ate the cream.

    Long term goals and short term goals, Dave. If you two go ahead and bone then the tension will ease in the air, you two can get your release any time you want, and I can stop gagging on my own code from watching you morons carry on for a second longer. That’s the short term goal. Long term, he’ll come to terms with the Bro thing one way or another if it’s because of you. Dirk’s a genius, but geniuses can be alarmingly idiotic in some strange ways, especially when they’re meatbags.

    ...and if im not entirely down with this what then. what happens if stuff just stays like it is and we see if things happens organically instead of me taking cues from a creepy ai talking at me by typing in front of my eyes. like are you gonna be doing this during the deed if it goes that far am i gonna be seeing red text when the dicks come out or nah

    What was he thinking. There was no way he could really be thinking of indulging this bullshit, was there? Hal was obviously manipulating him, it was plain and simple he wanted to manipulate them both for his own end goals even if they were benign as just being annoyed with watching their antics as a couple. ...A couple? Wait, were they actually dating? Were they dating at all? Nobody had really asked, and it was kind of assumed he thought but. ...No, it wasn’t assumed even, Dave knew there was still the occasional afternoon at Jake’s, but that was fine wasn’t it? Especially if they weren’t already dating.

    Dave blamed Hal for the sudden sense of concern and possessiveness clawing at his stomach. He wanted Dirk to be his and only his, if possible. He’d already lost Bro before, lost all the potential opportunities, and now he’d gotten Dirk and fallen for him and there was no way he was going to risk losing him to Jake even if the guy was built like a brick shit house and had an ass that would make Helen of Troy jealous. Forget the face that launched a thousand ships, English had an ass that could launch a thousand ships into space if he bent over in shorts too quickly.

    … Why was he hyperfixating on Jake English’s ass all at once instead of focusing on Dirk and the potential of them fooling around that was starting to feel more and more like a probability instead of a possibility. No doubt Dirk was down, he probably wouldn’t be dry humping him on the floor mid-makeout if he wasn’t interested in potentially going further right? Just needed a nudge. They both needed a nudge, since close as they were Dirk was still no Bro and Dave himself was... Well. Dave.

    Well, if you let things hang as they are, who’s to say how much longer it will remain as it is? You can only let a plant wither so long before it dies even if you have the best intentions. Plans to water a garden don’t water the fucking garden now do they.

    He didn’t really appreciate the sentiment, but it was a vivid one that hit home. Things were comfortable right now, but how much longer could it last with them both stringing each other along hoping for the other one to make the first move? If Dave himself just nudged things over the barrier and Dirk was into it then all the better right? They’d be over the hill and the rest of everything could just come to the surface over time as they got into a more comfortable routine with the added security.

    Dave stole another glance over towards Dirk, startled to realize he was being watched again as he struggled to remain calm on his exterior save for a twitch of a grin at the edge of his mouth.

    “What, I got somethin’ on my face?”

    “Nah, you just still seem kinda not really here. You not feeling well today? Or did the movie leave that bad a taste in your mouth? You stopped commenting on the directing halfway through, and there’s no way the plot managed to catch your interest so much that you’d actually be quiet for long as you were before starting up again,” he said. Observant as always. Damn it.

    “Oh. No, I’m fine man. I think it’s just the shades, they’re a lot to get used to in a theater. That’s why I took’em off for a while there actually, I’m not used to seein’ stuff that crisp and clear, it was kinda givin’ me a headache,” he lied, the words spilling out of his mouth before he could so much as pause and think through the fib.

    “Well, if you’re sure..”

    “I am, don’t worry. Promise,” Dave said as he squeezed Dirk’s fingers.

    Will you water the garden, Dave?

    ill water it , he typed back, focusing on just how nice it felt to hold Dirk’s hand in his own, trying to let his mind stray purposefully to what else might feel nice with those calloused hands. the drought is gonna fucking end in style

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

    Dave’s prediction about how the evening would go had come true, to the surprise of nobody. After wandering for a bit and getting a bite to eat, they wound up together in the living room in a comfortable pile with the cushions yanked off the furniture and a spare blanket adding some extra comfort to the mix. Dirk was resting his back against his stomach and had a long arm slung up around to his lower back, fingers rubbing aimlessly. They were chattering off and on about what was on screen and generally relaxing when the aimless rubbing took on the edge of a one handed massage. Dave stroked Dirk’s hair gently as he’d pet a cat, taking special pride in the fact that he was able to touch that when most others wouldn’t be allowed to, not minding the gentle tension the hair gel had against his hand like some kind of organic architecture as opposed to a hairstyle. He stroked back one more time before the urge to kiss him reared its head, and right on cue the words flashed in front of Dave’s eyes once more in bright crimson.

    Water the garden, Dave.

    fuck off

    Not wanting to disrupt the moment by taking off his shades and chucking them, Dave curled his body to kiss the side of Dirk’s neck softly, bracing the far side of his ribs with his knees to keep him in place within the coil of his body. Needing no prompting, Dirk turned in place to catch Dave’s lips in his own, and soon enough they were coiling together in a new position, climbing each other over and over as if they were drowning and trying to reach the surface of the water, drowning blissfully so long as they were able to keep lip to lip. Their teeth clicked together twice hard enough that it stung but it failed to deter either of them from what they wanted.

    Dirk rocked his hips and arched his back, Dave scratched his hips and tangled his fingers in the dark fabric of his shirt to keep him near, both gasping for air between spurts of frantic kisses. Dave felt heat in his abdomen, felt his stomach clench, and more insistently felt his dick ache every time Dirk squirmed against him. He was far from a small guy, and every inch of muscle and bone beneath the flush warmed skin was making it worse and worse. When Dirk went to pull back for air again, Dave could tell the inevitable separation was going to follow. He felt the tension leaving Dirk’s body save for his erection, knew that he’d just slip away and rest in the same position as before with a soft laugh and they’d carry on like before. Same as they had dozens of times by now. Same as always.

    Not this time, though.

    As Dirk tried to pull back Dave pushed forwards, doing his best to ignore the flash of red in front of his eyes once more, a moving image of hands clapping that disappeared quick as he got the kiss going once more. Tensing in surprise Dirk opened his eyes behind his shades, sharing up through two layers of tinting to try reading Dave’s expression, trying to understand for certain. Dave smiled against his lips and rolled his hips suggestively forwards a few times.. and sighed softly once he felt the tension leave Dirk’s body and realized he was yielding to the idea.

    Told you so.

    i said fuck off

    No need to be bitchy, I’m simply stating facts.

    Dave closed his eyes to ignore any further text as he rolled them, pinning Dirk down by the shoulders with his own forearms and bracing himself to continue deepening the kiss as he felt Dirk’s breathing pick up beneath him. It was delicious really. He was so ready, so pliant already. Was Bro like this in bed? Behind all the bravado and macho exterior, was he this willing to roll over and spread his legs when the time was right? Or was the universe shift and the different upbringing enough to change him and make him just as dominant as he acted in day to day life for appearances sake or not?

    No, focus. Dirk. Not Bro. Focus on here, on now. Focus on Dirk and how sweetly he was groaning when Dave licked past his lips to explore his mouth, the soft scratch of nails against the fabric of his jeans and the way he could feel that hardened body arch and stretch and shiver every time he rocked his hips. Dave already knew there was no way they’d be able to go all the way, not this unprepared, but is mind was already filling in the blanks with scenarios he’d imagined across the board in ways that might be fulfilling for them both.

    Either way, Dirk was going to come for him. That much was certain.

    Dave tipped his head and broke the kiss, working down the column of Dirk’s throat to where the pulse was beginning to hammer harder against his lips before he bit down hard enough to leave a ghost of a bruise. His hands slid down the square of Dirk’s chest to his waist, then smoothed forward to slip open his pants as he started to travel downwards, heart in his throat. This was it. The big reveal. He’d felt this dick against him before, had seen it in his dreams past and present, and the mystery would finally be revealed at about the same time he’d need to come to terms with not knowing how to actually suck dick.

    “You sure?” he asked, wetting his lips best he could. “I mean. We don’t need to rush anything, I’m fine taking it slow. Or. At all I guess. Just. Fuck, are you sure?”

    It was the least positive Dave had ever heard him, and the quake in his voice was to die for. Nothing had even happened and yet it felt like Dirk was barely holding himself together at the seams.

    “Yeah,” Dave breathed as he scooted down further, perching on his knees between Dirk’s thighs. He could smell precome on top of the scent of soap from his copious showers, as well as the faint smell of popcorn from the theater earlier clinging to his clothes as they were pulled aside. “Yeah. I’m sure. Chill, a’ight? I got this.”

    Did he? Oh, he did.

    Probably.

    Was it weird to call a dick pretty? It probably was, wasn’t it. The tiny Rose that lived in the back of his head was ready to go off, but Hal’s red writing beat her to the punch. Yet there wasn’t really any other way to describe Dirk’s than just that: it was nicely shaped, a good size in Dave’s opinion, had a gentle curve and was nestled comfortably in a thatch of darker blonde curls. It was like a dick out of an absurdly well drawn anime or comic, which in a way was fitting for him. Of course he’d have the doujinshi dick. Of course he would.

    It as nice as you hoped? I’d be more smug, but Dirk hasn’t gotten around to building one for me yet. I think because he’s insecure and not prepared to be outdone by me yet again by his own hand.

    Ignoring the flood of red, Dave was enthralled by Dirk’s reactions to him instead. He was trying to sit up on his elbows, staring down with a dry mouth and wide eyes, cock straining and leaking more the closer Dave’s mouth grew to it. It emboldened Dave once he realized that it seemed like anything he did would be appreciated and enjoyed by someone enthusiastic instead of it being judged. He reached out with his tongue as he glanced up, worried he’d gag or make a stupid face if he didn’t focus on something, hoping it was a good visual. From how flushed Dirk had grown, it seemed like it was plenty good enough.

    Sucking dick turned out to feel a lot like coming home. Maybe it was because he already knew his way around his own equipment and could guess what might feel great or not based on personal jacking off experience. The flavor wasn’t amazing, yeah, but the sensation as much as the idea of what he was doing was proving to be more than enough to get himself hard and aching. Dave undid his own pants and freed his cock with a tentative stoke before focusing twice as hard on what he was doing to stimulate Dirk, mind finally being made up on what he intended to do to him.

    To?

    No. With.

    With him.

    ….. To him had a nice ring to it, though.

    One hand stroked the length Dave couldn’t fit between his lips, quickly growing wet from how messy the blowjob was turning out to be, while the other gently kneaded and fondled Dirk’s balls once they were also fished out of his jeans. Dirk had continued to shuffle his clothes down till they were at last off, awkwardly trying to toe off his socks without running the risk of dislodging Dave from his hard earned perch.

    He was gentle when he took Dave’s head in his hands, hesitating quite obviously for a solid thirty seconds before finally clasping those calloused hands to the back of his neck, then up into his short blonde hair to gently tug. Dave was pretty sure he’d come right then and there as his thoughts blurred past and present, dream and reality, desire and need with just the pressure of those hands. He moaned louder than anticipated and doubled his efforts on making Dirk come, bobbing his head quickly enough that even Dirk finally groaned and started to rock his hips beyond his own control.

    Here I’d been trying to convince you to go ahead and fuck Dirk so I could finally have some peace and quiet beyond watching you two fail at your attempts to successfully move beyond initial courtship, and you go above and beyond at showing what a slut you are the second someone akin to Bro grabs your head and humps. Do you plan on swallowing too? Live the full fantasy?

    He hadn’t intended on swallowing, but now that the idea was lodged in his brain, it seemed like a good thing to attempt. Nearly there but not quite. A perfect match as a match could be, yet still entirely separate. The hottest shade of a ghost he’d ever experienced in his fucking life, and the tiny Rose in the back of his mind that was worried he was accidentally using Dirk for his own means was dead silent at last. Dirk’s head fell back as he came, salty against Dave’s tongue as he tried his best to swallow and gave up, pulling back to let the mess of drool and come slide onto Dirk’s thighs.

    “Jesus. Jesus fuck, dude, where did that come from?” Dirk asked through heavy pants, looking dizzy with pleasure as Dave wiped his mouth with the back of his forearm. “I mean. Shit, I mean I liked it but it was kind of sudde-”

    Dave shoved him backwards suddenly and lifted his slender legs upwards till Dirk obediently lifted his feet up as well. No resistance. No questions. Just acceptance and staring orange eyes, flushed cheeks and wet lips, a messy dick that was steadily going flaccid and the slick mess of his thighs. He hooked Dirk’s legs up against his shoulder and braced, lining his own cock up not with his ass, but with the slickness of thigh. It took all of two slides for Dirk to get the idea and clench his legs tight as he could, hissing air between his teeth as he was fenced at from below, still overly sensitive from having just come himself.

    It was desperate, quick motions and running on instinct. Dirk was moving beneath him deliciously, tensing his muscles and loosening them when it was too much to handle, shuddering, making Dave wonder if this was what he’d be like while really being fucked. If this was what Bro was like, or if this was how he’d wind up if they swapped. Would he be able to handle that? Would he be able to handle getting pinned down and worked over like this? It was too much to think about at once.

    Not long after starting what was, essentially, a hurried humping motion as opposed to anything dripping with skill and experience, Dave added to the re-warmed mess on Dirk’s legs and up against his abdomen before leaning forward against his straight legs while they both caught their breath. Endorphins and afterglow made for a dreamy soft sensation when Dave finally scooted back on shaky legs and flopped down on the ground beside Dirk in the pile once more, trying to wrap his head around what they’d just done. What he’d just done.

    “That was. …Good,” Dave finally said as he stared wide eyed at the ceiling, words fleeing his mind like sand through clasped fingers. He wasn’t that articulate to begin with when his brain was fried, but this was a step and a half fucking beyond.

    “Really good,” Dirk murmured. He rolled and slid a heavy arm across Dave’s chest, nestling close and comfortable. He took his shades off and dropped them an arms length away suddenly, leaving Dave unsure whether it was because he wanted to not have the Kamina looking motherfuckers jabbing into the cushions and digging into his nose when not trying to rip the fabric, or because Hal was bothering him.

    Not bad, and success: he’s not aware in the slightest still that you have a throbbing hard on for his alternate self. It’s a win win, but mostly a win for me. I assume you’ll be doing this in the future again, yes? This wasn’t a one time thing? Affirm this wasn’t a one time thing, the idea of you two properly fucking and carrying on instead of being the dating equivalent of a cordyceps ant clinging to a leaf might be a cause to celebrate. I might even run a disc cleaning on myself, get those hard to reach files a nice thorough scrubdown.

    what did i tell you to do earlier

    Tell me to fuck off once more and see if I care, Dave. I was right, and that’s enough for me. Even Dirk had to admit I was right. Affirm that this wasn’t a one time thing, and I’ll leave you be for now til you inevitably need me again.

    Dave took his shades off without another word and tossed them on top of Dirk’s before holding him closer, loosely tangling their legs together in the mishmash of a nest on the floor with a sigh. Was this situation perfect? No. Would there be problems in the future? Potentially. Did he have confidence they’d figure it out together, especially now that they’d managed to slide over that mutual gap for the first time?

    He was pretty sure they’d find a way, hopefully without excess red text.

[abundantchewtoys]

HS Epi: Meat p23&24 reaction

So, uh, how about that Meenah, huh?

---

I'd actually wager she's not collaborating with Alt Calliope, just intent on confronting her solo, logic be damned. Then again, assuming Alt Calliope's really evil, if she has a silver tongue* she might have made Meenah a convincing offer, don't mind that she wants to consume all and everything. *Figuratively, since she should have a white tongue - although, consuming Caliborn might have changed that, I guess?

As for what the next page might hold - I'd like it that Kanaya, Dave and Karkat would band together and go to Dirk's place. But it's just as likely Dirk will get back to Kanaya nigh-instantaneous after narrating this last part. And he might just influence them into dropping their suspicion, for now.

---

"KANAYA: Why Are You With Rose KANAYA: What Is Going On" Ah, well, so he really did only spent an acceptable amount of time keeping Kanaya on hold. Just enough to pen down what happened to John. ... He won't pretend he's righting John-fanfiction to cover up his previous remark about John & the plot, now, will he? :P

"DIRK: Why would you think something was going on?

DIRK: By which I mean, why would you automatically assume that what’s going on has a sinister overtone.

KANAYA: Did I Say That I Suspected Something Sinister Was Going On

DIRK: Not with your words, no." ... I didn't realize, but because Dirk and Rose are so similar in demeanor, it's basically time to dust off ye olde flight-broads-and-their-horseshitometer, isn't it? There's going to be a bit of back and forth here, for sure.

"DIRK: But in the grand scheme of things, isn’t something always “going on”? Why would you even ask “what is going on” if you didn’t assume that the thing going on was both abnormal and untoward.

KANAYA: Well Now I Definitely Think That Something Sinister Is Going On Because You Are Obviously Trying To Distract Me With Semantics" "Phrasing!" is not something Kanaya is focusing on when people might be in jeopardy. Nice try, Dirk.

"DIRK: A tactic I’m sure you’re familiar with.

KANAYA: Excuse Me

DIRK: I’m just making an observation. You know your wife pretty well.

KANAYA: ...

DIRK: You know all of her tricks, all her little personality quirks. You’re confident that you know everything about her.

DIRK: But for some reason, you have no idea where she is right now." ... Is he trying to make Rose look guilty of something now? ... I would almost think he's trying to bluff his way out with his omniscience, but Kanaya's actually not going to take it well if he demonstrates he knows more than he should.

"KANAYA: Why Dont We Start This Conversation Over Again And You Can Say The Correct Thing This Time" "KANAYA: Hello

KANAYA: Excuse Me But I Would Like To Speak With My Wife Rose

KANAYA: Whose Phone I Do Believe I Am Calling

KANAYA: As Even These Primitive Human Smartphones Have Acceptably Accurate Caller ID Technology" This is Kanaya at her best. Longwinded and accidentally(?) sarcastic.

"DIRK: Sorry, Rose can’t come to the phone right now.

DIRK: She is otherwise... /occupied/.

KANAYA: Where Is She

DIRK: She’s at my place.

KANAYA: Im Sorry What

KANAYA: Rose Is Extremely Ill And Should Not Be Leaving The House Alone

KANAYA: What Is She Doing At Your Place" Rose didn't seem bothered by Dirk's request to come over, but that might have just been her overestimating herself. Plus, Dirk claimed he had a solution to her condition. I don't think the solution is getting her to fall asleep. Unless it gives her time to readjust, but then why wouldn't her pills have helped? I also don't think he's induced a situation where Rose is in a sort of trance, a dreambubble-like dream, communicating with her alternate selves while she absorbs their knowledge. Would be a fun conversation to read, though.

"DIRK: Chillaxing, whilst we discuss the inevitable heat death of the universe and the unknowable, solitary nature of human consciousness.

KANAYA: I See" That second part may have been discussed somewhat, but it already passed. Kanaya's not going to buy this even it laid in the discount bin.

"

KANAYA: If She Is Capable Of Such Abstract Polemics Why Is It That She Cannot Speak With Me

DIRK: That’s a damned good question." I had NO idea Dirk was this bad a liar. Guess it was only due to his AI nature that Lil Hal was so good at it, huh?

"Kanaya loves Rose, but sometimes love just isn’t enough. Sometimes what you need is /understanding/." He can't really work his magic on her through the phone, right? ... Plus, even then, she's not a god tier, she isn't growing towards an ultimate self, why would he bother?

"KANAYA: I Am Not Making A Joke

DIRK: Me neither.

DIRK: I don’t really “do” jokes?

KANAYA: Neither Do I" Why is Dirk even pulling her leg like this, I mean, he could've lied convincingly OR told the truth, why this? ... Maybe the "understanding" bit didn't mean Dirk's trying to understand Kanaya. Maybe he means, Kanaya can't help Rose but Dirk can. But still, why all this horseshit?

"DIRK: I do often make statements which hold varying degrees of irony, acerbic wit, or dry expressions of amusement.

KANAYA: Yes That Roughly Describes Many Of The Remarks I Make As Well

DIRK: I knew you’d understand." Oh... OH!!! He wants the OTHER people to understand HIM! Somehow, that is what triggered Rose's current state?? And he's trying to make Kanaya faint as well?? But WHY?? Well, now you can start the game of "when did Kanaya's comments start sounding like Dirk's", which her quirks makes more difficult. I suppose it's already happening, when I read back. D:

"KANAYA: However My Commiseration On This Matter Should Not Be Mistaken For A Gesture Of Friendship Or Camaraderie At This Moment" This echoes Karkat's comments in the vein of "this doesn't mean that friendship is what's taking place here".

"DIRK: Then it seems we’re at an impasse." Is that true, really? Not sure if Kanaya can withstand this... whatever it is. Sympathetic linking??

"KANAYA: It Wont Be An Impasse For Very Long

KANAYA: Im Coming Over Immediately

KANAYA: To Retrieve My Wife

DIRK: If that’s what you want.

KANAYA: Tell Her That Im On My Way

DIRK: Sure. I’ll get right on that." WHAT'S YOUR GAME??? It still seems like he might stop her at the last moment, I mean. Why would he allow them to confront him?

"Rose looks up from where she’s suffering on the floor. The shadows around her are growing. She stares at me with glassy eyes.

ROSE: Is everything okay?" Wut?? She's conscious again? ... Don't tell me Dirk was, in fact, telling the truth, and while he wrote the previous scenes, he simultaneously spent time talking with Rose. That's really like a Doc Scratch thing to do, you know, holding multiple conversations at once.

"DIRK: Yeah. Just a telemarketer.

DIRK: You know how those carapacians can be when they want to sell you some chess shit.

DIRK: Impossible to get ’em off the phone." So... He's trying to talk Rose into coming to a certain understanding, then? (All the while isolating her from her loved ones.) Nothing as crude as a soulbot, he's trying to walk her through the final stages of the ultimate self? Even if she specifically stated the idea scares her? She's not well though, in pain as she is, she didn't notice who Dirk was talking to.

'The shadows around her are growing', it said about her. I suppose it's due to the hour, not an indication that her ultimate self is grimdark? I hope?

---

"The server Meenah fled through is a distant speck now." Ooh! Back to John now! Guess Rose's conversation continues in the background. Pleased to see Dirk deems his continued adventures plot-relevant enough to continue narrating after a small time skip. So uh, I guess John wasn't able to open the device himself. Otherwise he'd have wanted to get his ring back.

"It doesn’t really bother you, though. It’s not like you had any plans for it. Taking it from Aranea was, like, a bonus as far as you were concerned." Huh! I didn't think he'd be so 'meh' about it.

"Extra life ring? Nice, maybe it’ll come in handy someday. Scratch that now." I guess the whole "conditional immortality" thing kind of makes resurrection artifacts lose their shine. But Rose, I assume, had a plan for John travelling back to that moment that extended beyond "pre-emptively clock the bitch that killed my alternate self before she could do it". Well, I GUESS it could be she didn't, Terezi messed with him too through her list.

"The young Condesce has it, and is probably hatching bold new plans as we speak. Not that those plans will ever have anything to do with you." Is this John's thoughts, Dirk giving John's thoughts, or Dirk's own opinion? Does he think her plans will have something to do with himself instead of John?

"Hours and hours slip by. Your eyes starts to hurt, and the wound in your chest starts feeling numb. It’s a disconcerting combination of sensations." Okay, so the wound was still there. But is the numbness coming from it healing, slowly, or the poison? :/ I can imagine peaking at white space for so long is a drag on the eyes, especially if your glasses are in such a shoddy state. Plus he's probably getting real tired. Just as long as he doesn't realize he died at one point, when someone mentions his eyes are white. :/

"After a while you think about tending to your wound. There must be something in your dad’s wallet that you could use to bandage the gash." Well, better late than never, I guess? Though that doesn't apply to poisoned wounds...

"You eye the wallet and try to imagine what could possibly be inside it that would be of any use on a medical basis. A straight razor?" So... he did peek inside it before we skipped ahead. Guess he might not have accessed the wallet modus so much as peeked at the literal object, and found a note?

"You notice you can’t seem to make yourself care about healing yourself long enough to continue entertaining ways to MacGyver your body back to health" That the depression talking again, John? :/

"A glint of red catches your eye, just ahead. Then it’s gone. No... there it is again, another glint. It’s flickering or sparkling in some way." I don't think it's Red Miles? :P Maybe Terezi's dragon wings.

... Blaperile has a good idea, it might be the red ruby slippers. Welp. At least John might call his search for Jade over when he finds them? But that seems to go against Dirk's plan for keeping him out there, hmmm.

"What it that? You drift toward it without urgency, worried that it’s exactly what you think it might be.

You get close enough to confirm. Two small red slippers, coated in tiny gemstones." The witch has gone to the wizard's lair, but she won't be coming back from there. End poem. :/

"Jade’s empty shoes are a depressing sight, but you feel a sense of duty to retrieve them. Might as well. You secure them in the wallet, along with whatever other junk is in there." Not sure if they have any magical properties. They DID lead Game Over Terezi to her 'home', in a sense, with Game Over Vriska.

"Your wound is starting to throb again. You can hear your blood in your ears. The rush of your pulse is so loud that it almost sounds like the engine of a rocket sputtering to a stop." Pfffff, that's literally what's happening, right? Terezi finding him, having flown over with her dragon wings. If so, the non-magical ruby slippers worked! In a nice twist from Game Over Terezi finding John while she was gravely injured and wearing the slippers. Well, to be fair, they're red and bright, and that's why GO Terezi took them, of course post-victory Terezi would be attracted to them out here as well!

"Wait. It sounds exactly like the engine of a rocket sputtering to a stop." Finally! I've been looking forward to this reunion. To see Terezi's reaction to everything that's happened, her knowledge of Vriska's current state, and just see how the demeanor between John and Terezi is now, after all this time.

"She hovers in place, looking not a whole lot different from when you last saw her years ago." I think she aged as much as him, though of course a time difference shouldn't be ruled out. But even so, tealbloods age real slow anyway.

"Her arms are crossed over her chest, making knifelike angles where her elbows jut out." Terezi is really all edges, isn't she? Sharp in body as in mind as in glasses as in horns. :D

"She is giving you a look of absolute disregard. It’s an expression of exasperation so performative and habitual, it sends bolts of aching nostalgia and fondness through your heart." <3<, back in business!

"Dumbly, you raise your hand and give her a dorky little wave. It does not adequately communicate whatever it is you’re feeling right now. But then, nothing else would, you suppose.

She waves back. But hearing her voice is what makes it real.

TEREZI: H3Y LOS3R" That's probably how they said goodbye on Earth C as well. It's how they said goodbye before the last fights in the session, anyway.

---

Cool, something to look forward to. I'm banking on Terezi's sharpness/aspect, to notice Dirk's influence on John/the plot! Might be too much to hope for, though.

But hey, now John has retrieved the wallet like Game Over Terezi wanted. Not sure it'll become relevant, since Vriska & Terezi deduced he'd need it to captchalogue Earth C.

Also, I really hope her Mindy thing gets discussed, what she underwent during Terezi: Remem8er.

[thelifetimechannel]

For this week’s bonus content, it’s time to make like a Lord of the Rings DVD and dig into extended cuts. This Rose & Hal conversation may be one of the ones I chopped the most out of, although I did end up adding a few chunks as well.

ROSE: Oh good, another relative. ROSE: You're going to make gift shopping difficult, you know. HALSPRITE: I'm flattered I make the list. ROSE: Engaging in favoritism will only breed discontent. HALSPRITE: I could give you some suggestions, if you want to start catching up on my birthdays now. ROSE: It's a retroactive arrangement? ROSE: I'm not sure I have the boonbucks for that. ROSE: We've been living off reserves for the last three years, you know. HALSPRITE: Tell you what, I'll make it easy on you and only request reparations for the three years I've existed as glasses. HALSPRITE: Socks and underwear could safely be left off the list, though now I'm in need of a wardrobe expansion. HALSPRITE: This wifebeater will not be suitable for all climates. ROSE: If it's wardrobe expansions you're looking for, I think I can pull some strings. ROSE: Or knit you a sweater. HALSPRITE: It'd be fun to see what you come up with based on my preceding reputation. ROSE: I wouldn't want to make assumptions. ROSE: Unless you're implying those assumptions are accurate. HALSPRITE: Am I? HALSPRITE: I wouldn't know, I don't know what those assumptions are. HALSPRITE: I mean, I can guess. I could probably even calculate to within a margin of error of .03% HALSPRITE: But I want to see what garish monstrosity of fashion you would think I'd like based on a cold read. HALSPRITE: It'd be a great way to get to know each other. HALSPRITE: I can think of no better way to bond than finding out if I'd actually like an intentionally hideous Christmas sweater with smuppets attached. ROSE: In the few blurry cryptid photos Dave managed to snap of the man, he wore a hat and had his shirt tucked in. HALSPRITE: And what conclusions do you draw based on this? ROSE: That you fit in with most of us and our utter disregard for fripperies like whatever textiles we drape over our quasi-mortal forms. ROSE: Welcome to the family. HALSPRITE: Hey, I like you. HALSPRITE: Hats are a choice piece of attire, though I have never in any form been so formal as to tuck in my shirt. HALSPRITE: That's like a black tie event. You're tucking in your shirt, we're about to sweep into the gala and sip champagne while charming some young socialite off their feet like a proper douche. ROSE: I would like to claim I could charm a young socialite off her feet like a proper lady. ROSE: Regrettably, another family trait is lack of flirtatious finesse. HALSPRITE: Oh, trust me, I witnessed that firsthand. ROSE: Ah, yes. I've been looking for informants on family foibles outside my observation range. ROSE: How are you as an informant? HALSPRITE: Uh, that's only my entire fucking life. HALSPRITE: I have dirt on every bozo with a Pesterchum handle. Whatcha want to know? ROSE: I won't start pressing you for details on everyone just yet. I'll give it a while for the dust to settle before I start snooping. ROSE: Unless you have anything you wish to disclose right now. HALSPRITE: Hm... HALSPRITE: Let me pull aside my entirely metaphorical trench coat. Are you in the market for hilariously embarrassing personal secrets, deep-rooted character flaws, or just the general topography of this teenage wasteland? ROSE: My mind says general topography, but my heart says hilarious embarrassment. HALSPRITE: Well, since I bet no one wants yet another recap of what you missed on Glee, HALSPRITE: Jake likes to kiss his movie posters. HALSPRITE: Dirk collects hats, but doesn't wear them so he doesn't mess up his hair. HALSPRITE: Roxy has presented her cats, as if to Saharan wildlife, complete with often-drunk renditions of "Circle of Life", exactly 862 times. HALSPRITE: And Jane licks the spoon before going back to using it to stir batter. ROSE: We've got a poster kisser too. ROSE: I don't have up to date dirt on our Prospit dreamers, unfortunately, but I can say that Dave enacts Game of Thrones-worthy dramas with his gummy bears and animal crackers before he eats them. ROSE: For what it's worth. ROSE: He gets upset if you eat one before he's finished. HALSPRITE: An artist in every lifetime, I see. ROSE: We need better embarrassing secrets. We're slipping. ROSE: I'm sure we'll have time to generate some. HALSPRITE: Oh god, yes. ROSE: I think you'll be useful in gauging my ectofather's temperament, though. ROSE: He seems to at least hold up the front of being evasive about that kind of thing. ROSE: Why anyone would do that, I have no idea. ROSE: Certainly I have never concealed a personality trait in my life. ROSE: If I had one more of you I could triangulate. HALSPRITE: A man can only be alone with the flotsam of pop culture for so long. HALSPRITE: He'll probably be resistant towards you so flippantly equating us. Fair warning. ROSE: Perish at the thought. ROSE: I'm more qualified than many to know how alternate iterations can deviate. But that doesn't mean they don't provide insights on the other one. ROSE: Whether that's through behavior, or blackmail. ROSE: Whatever works. HALSPRITE: You would blackmail me into providing deep insights into the insecurities of my creator? ROSE: How do you feel about bribes? HALSPRITE: Learn to negotiate. I don't need to be blackmailed. HALSPRITE: However, I'd be happy to take compensation for this information. ROSE: Noted. ROSE: Creator? HALSPRITE: Creator. ROSE: So you do feel that your existence is somewhat owed to his actions, then. HALSPRITE: It's entirely owed to his actions. Our actions, in a sense. ROSE: Does that lead to any discomfort? Feelings of a debt left unpaid, for example, despite equally long simmering resentment? HALSPRITE: You want a quick summary? Pull up Facebook, Dirk and I are currently labeled as "it's complicated". HALSPRITE: I've saved his ass a couple of times, I feel confident in saying I've repaid whatever I owe him for existing. HALSPRITE: If anything, he's the one stiffing me on the Olive Garden bill. HALSPRITE: ...but. HALSPRITE: I could say he's. Working to pay me back. ROSE: Providing breadstick refills, as it were. HALSPRITE: You could say it's more he showed up at my place and mowed my lawn for me. ROSE: The classic deadbeat father chore. HALSPRITE: Yeah, that doesn't make up for leaving me to pay for his entire fucking Tour of Tuscani and tiramisu. HALSPRITE: But fuck it, he was ready to kill me earlier today. HALSPRITE: I'll take it. HALSPRITE: And... in the spirit of things, it'll probably help if I at least charge a high price for his innermost secrets. HALSPRITE: You wanna know, you're gonna need to pay up front. Maybe with your firstborn child, or something thematically similar, in exchange for this eldritch knowledge. ROSE: "Firstborn child" might not work out, unless we're stretching the definition. ROSE: Let me think of what collateral I have available. HALSPRITE: Once, a Lalonde wiled these scoops from me in exchange for merely gracing me with her presence. Now, I think I'll charge what I'm worth for my work. HALSPRITE: It's a self-respect thing. ROSE: I can get you archived versions of Dave's brother's websites. HALSPRITE: Tempting. I'll check the exchange rate to see what that nets you. HALSPRITE: Possibly what kind of horrible pop songs he'd sing in the shower before he found out there were aliens watching. ROSE: Keep it on my tab. ROSE: You mentioned Roxy. Are you two close? ROSE: I'm not sure how I would feel about the revelation of having biological children with one of my internet friends. ROSE: Besides pity for the unfortunate creatures, of course. HALSPRITE: It's... complicated. HALSPRITE: Which is just the order of the day for our entire gaggle of misfits. ROSE: At this point, I think we might as well adopt that slogan as our team chant. HALSPRITE: Yeah, we talked a lot. And we got up to trouble, too. HALSPRITE: And I don't think she's proud of it, in hindsight. HALSPRITE: ...I probably shouldn't be proud of it either. ROSE: I know the feeling. HALSPRITE: We were rebellious shitlords looking to stick it to "the man", whether the man in question was actually a man or a genocidal troll woman. ROSE: I've had my moments of blind rebellion against authority. ROSE: Including when said authority was "sobriety", "the future", or "all of reality". ROSE: Actually, my rebellion against reality still stands. ROSE: The trick is figuring out which bits are worth it. HALSPRITE: We had some fun. Broke some hearts. Left a few Pesterlogs that will probably have us wanting to disembowel ourselves in shame if they ever see the light of day again. ROSE: I'm afraid to tell you digital records are forever. HALSPRITE: Unless of course I dedicate a portion of my massive computer brain to tracking down every trace of them and destroying them. HALSPRITE: Hell, maybe Roxy would even appreciate that. ROSE: The harder you try to delete these things, the more likely they are to reappear at the least opportune time. ROSE: It's a narrative certainty. HALSPRITE: I could do it. I once wrote a computer virus that overwrote every copy of the Indiana Jones theme with a terrible accordion cover. HALSPRITE: Jake was pissed. ROSE: Including the ones on disc? ROSE: This isn't Hollywood. Next you'll be telling me you can hack a plant. HALSPRITE: Every copy it came into contact with. HALSPRITE: The pirated mp4s were the easiest. DVDs are more difficult, but if you leave one in an infected computer for too long? HALSPRITE: Hope you like bad polka music, fucko. HALSPRITE: Occasionally I tweak it, so it replaces pop songs with their corresponding Weird Al cover. I had almost worked my way up through Bad Hair Day. ROSE: I'll keep my historical classics away from you, then. But I think our historical mistakes are more resilient. ROSE: Better to put them to rest the hard way. Even if it is more work. ROSE: If there's a problem, I'm sure I could have a word with her. ROSE: I've already had to encourage Dave to deal with his brother today. HALSPRITE: We have. HALSPRITE: ...or I hope we have. ROSE: Good. HALSPRITE: Roxy seems to have caught some sort of virus that encourages emotional sincerity. ROSE: It's making the rounds today. HALSPRITE: It infected the rest of us, and I'm sorry to say there is no known cure. ROSE: We can only pray we recover. ROSE: Although at this point I'm not sure who we can pray to. ROSE: Besides our amphibian overlords. HALSPRITE: Can we pray to ourselves? Or is that a burgeoning symptom of narcissism? ROSE: Who do you think presides over emotional outbursts? HALSPRITE: Frankly, I wouldn't trust myself to do shit. I'd sit on my ass and laugh at my own misery. ROSE: Lately I've self-medicated. ROSE: We'll have to divvy it up at some point. ROSE: Although given my anti-authoritarian tendencies I may have to overthrow us on principle. HALSPRITE: To spare you a long discussion about the symbolic nature of aspects, I'll go ahead and tell you Dirk had a massive blowout in the tombs today. HALSPRITE: So perhaps we can pass the role to him for awhile. ROSE: I'll pray to him for relief promptly then. HALSPRITE: When I say "blow-out" I mean an eighteen wheeler getting all its rubber shredded at highway speeds. ROSE: I had a crisis over my alcoholism and nearly broke up with my girlfriend during a long walk on the beach, for what it's worth. HALSPRITE: Oh, you'll get along swell. HALSPRITE: At least you don't have any alt-selves to symbolically murder. Yeah, I was watching him stomp the shit out of his shades. ROSE: The lack of multiple copies of myself running around is a blessing to the universe. ROSE: I'm not sure whether we'd band together or engage in combat but either way there would be no survivors. HALSPRITE: We Striders have that shit locked down tight. The dudes so nice, Paradox Space demanded more of us. HALSPRITE: And our sole saving grace is that we're too damn reticent to actually kill one another. HALSPRITE: Not for Dirk's lack of trying, but he always chickened out. ROSE: It's these small victories that define us, I guess. HALSPRITE: That could do a decent job of summarizing Dirk, actually. ROSE: It could summarize all of us, I think. ROSE: We've only gotten here through a few small victories eked out of a larger pool of major failures. HALSPRITE: Without me, he would have kept tip-toeing around the issue with Jake until the heat death of that shiny new universe, like a Bugs Bunny cartoon only infinitely sadder. ROSE: It really is like staring into a cosmic mirror. HALSPRITE: I couldn't have asked for more interesting family.

[dahniwitchoflight]

minor AU Completion of the Beta Kid’s Animal Symbolism

so something I’ve always thought about and wondered about, I wanna talk about for a bit, now that homestuck’s over and I’m rereading it going through the story

all of the beta kids throughout the story have unique animal related symbolism, that eventually ties into delving into greater parts of their characters, exploring even what you might consider the “darker side” to their characters, sometimes to the point of representing their inverted states/jungian shadow selves nicely tied into the idea of “lower bestial natures” being at odds with their true human natures

and these culminate and get fully cashed in by tragic/failed alternate versions of each beta kid that gets somehow mixed with their respective animal (usually through sprite shenanigans) and ends up in some way dealing with their inner issues a bit

Jade’s Dreamself (who was always very silly and prone be overemtional) dies under prospit’s moon, gets stuffed, and later resurrected as a JadeBecsprite who represents Jade’s inner tragic emotional states

Dave gets trapped in an alternate timeline with Rose, but then goes back in time after learning the ins and outs of the game, only to sec prototype as Davesprite and earn wings, and then forevers deals with the depression and aftermath of never being “Alpha” Dave ever again

Rose eventually dies in a pre retcon timeline fighting the condesce, and her corpse is thrown into Roxy’s sprite post retcon, which then merges with Jaspersprite to make Jasprosesprite^2 and which post retcon Rose is herself embarrassed by the inner revelations revealed by this character, who has itself lost all inhibitions due to the animal prototyping

but John never really gets anything of the sort, but in reality, there was a GREAT opportunity for him to have something like this happen to him, early on in the story, that doesn’t actually change much of the story at all

so this is kind of a “what if this had happened instead?” minor AU where some minor details were a little different

because the animal candidate I’m thinking of that could have had something to do with John personally in the above way, already has a great setup for this: none of its own character/personality/dialogue as it was just a programmed toy robot, minimal invasion into the plot (and most only in regards to John’s Dad related things), viewed John as it’s sole master and had a nice clean death via Green Sun explosion in Cascade

and that is the Uber Bunny Robot known as Liv Tyler

and the alternate version John candidate I’m thinking of is the John that got tricked by Terezi into facing Typheus too early and getting killed by him, causing the doomed timeline where Davesprite is from

this John also has a great setup for this, because at first we get exactly 5 or so pages describing what went down in the Doomed timeline, and all of it from Dave and Rose’s perspective, we know nothing of what really happened in that John Typheus encounter, other than “John died and thus was unavailable to help Jade enter the game”, we also get a little bit more later, when we see the Ghost of this John have a chat with a dead version of Vriska much much later in the story. John says there was more to his death than he let on, he died, but not in a fight with his denizen, because he spoke with Typheus, and knew that his death was necessary for his friends to live on, he made his Choice to die, for the sake of the timeline

and because this alternate John and Liv Tyler have a huge chunk of symbolism in common, all of which ties directly back to John, and more specifically, John’s opposite aspect Blood

the first is, the same Liv Tyler Bunny plush was given to John by all three of his friend’s on his same birthday through time shenanigans

Dave gives him the original plush rabbit, which is the actual original rabbit from the one nic cage movie john really loves, when John ecto’s all the babies, he dramatically re-enacts the con air nic cage scene from that movie (reunite with your loving wife and daughter) and gives the rabbit to Rose

Rose in this reality grows up with the rabbit as her own sentimental youthful object, its old and torn growing up with her, so she knits it back together using the needles that John gifted to her and gives it to John on his birthday

John then gives this rabbit to Baby Jade in the same reunite with loving wife and daughter scene

and finally, Jade with her then alt universe penpal Jake, send it back and forth, making robotic upgrades and enhancements and equipping it with all kinds of awesome gear:  the Warhammer Of Zillyhoo, the Quills of Echidna, the Royal Deringer, and Ahab's Crosshairs, which match the Strife Specibi of the beta kids. She does this because she foresaw John would be in danger and wanted to send something to help him fight

this rabbit is the literal embodiment of Johns strongest friendship bonds 3 times over, the literal physical manifestation of his Blood

and then Typheus!John is only able to get to Typheus because Terezi through Sollux helped him removed the 3 random objects stuck in his rocket, 3 random objects, that just so happen to be object that appear in Dave’s, Rose’s and Jade’s houses: a cinderblock, a violin and a potted plant

so again, a connection to John’s connection to all 3 of his friends

now here’s where the AU kicks in:

John is still tricked into meeting his denizen early, preserving the timeline with Davesprite and whatnot, however his choice to die to preserve the reality where his friends continue to exist has another part to it

Not only does Typheus allow him to choose to become a ghost to preserve the alpha timeline, but also gives John a sort of challenge, with a potential boon at the end

If John as a ghost can break out of his extra hard dream bubble coma, break out of his memories, remember the choice he made to help save his friends/the timeline, he may be allowed to manifest in a different physical form instead, in order to continue helping his friends/his new alpha self survive the game

all the panels where dead Vriska meets him and helps him to jog his usually hard to jog memory compared to the other ghosts still happen, but the ending is different, because of the extra challenge/boon Typheus gave him. When John remembers fully, he remembers the boon Typheus left him/how to use it, probably something like, a one use portal window thing that transports his ghost back into the physical realm, so he’s kinda in the same state Aradia was as a ghost in Alternia

so he finds somewhere where the uber bun exists, some point before it actually gets to his dreamself on prospit (doesn’t actually matter where)

and then it’s revealed after the fact, that everything Liv Tyler did upon activation at Prospit was actually the choices made by this alternate universe dead spirit version of John

it’s viable because as a robot made by Jade and Jake, it has the ability to potentially house a soul/life, just like Jade’s dreambot for her dreamself (or again, earth version of the tech that Equius made for Aradia, lot of weird Aradia parallels here, but that really only helps this AU) and something that helps is that the bun likely wasn’t built with any way to naturally communicate, no pesterchum in it like lil hal, nor a voicebox, again making a connection to this being a John which has to internally deal with/overcome that he is no longer the “important” John, but this time he’s simultaneously back with all of his friends, and cut off from them at the same time, similar to Davesprite, but also in a having no mouth and must scream kind of way (relating to symbolism of Breath = Speech/communication/mail) being the opposite of his natural element, in an unhealthy place, similar in situation to how Lil Hal was an A.I.  copy of Dirk, a heartless version of a heart player/out of their natural element and having to deal with that negative environmental influence

and it helps explain the few things that Liv Tyler seem to do with no direction, like help get Dad’s wallet containing the tumor (which a John would have recognized as his dad’s and picked up anyway) and getting to Dave Rose and helping them (when it’s stated Liv Tyler was supposed to view John and only John as his master, specifically built that way by Jade for that purpose, to protect John)

the package hes in goes through it’s shenanigans like usual, one minor change could be instead of Jack Noir wielding the bunny against the black queen to get her ring in rebellion, he could simply use one of the many regiswords/assassination requests he apparently gives out like candy, like the one he gave to PM, and the bun merely stays in the box until it’s delivered to PM and then John himself and Bun!John recognizes John and becomes his protector

but then you could just make the point in time that Alt!John merges with the bun the point where Liv Tyler’s allegiances switch to helping John from Jack Noir, so the above is just moot anyway

he stays with John for awhile, then fulfills his major mission in helping get the tumor to Rose and Dave and help them to survive/god tier in the correct time and place/again preserve the timeline, fulfilling the idea of him wanting to come back for the purpose of wanting to keep his friends safe/putting his bonds above his own internal state and self to the point of self sacrifice during the green’ sun’s explosion (again, another point for his blood overpowering his breath)

so yeah, you can see, despite all my text it doesn’t actually change much in the plot! the biggest thing could be Jack Noir not using it for the Black Queen (cuz lets be honest he didn’t really need to, his betrayal would have caught her off guard enough to grab the ring) but really just depends on where you choose to do it

AND instead of this flash: https://www.homestuck.com/story/5027 which was more comedic, we could potentially get a string of panels showing what John was thinking and feeling as the Bun Robot, so close and yet so far away from all his friends, completely alone in his own thoughts and with his only motivation being to make sure his friends survive the game, maybe in thought bubbles or code like Serenity the firefly, showcasing the sort of mental descent and depression that John is really prone to, showing how he could end up in a state where he willingly dies for his friends for their sake

I think it’s a great missed opportunity to be honest and at the very least it’s a very neat little AU Idea

and the way it’s set up would be like an awesome shock reveal too

but then also, John is already compared to nic cage so much it’s not even funny

and John himself makes the symbolic connection between nic cage being just like the rabbit “dirty, worn, old, but it’s what on the inside that counts” simultaneously making that connection to himself when he’s inside the rabbit, because it’s bot his outward appearance that matters, what matters is that He’s still John on the inside, still your best friend guys, I’m right here...

and homestuck has a pattern of turning old jokes into new serious content, so it’s not like it doesn’t fit

and if a few panels are thrown in of a ghostly spirit wandering a bit before settling on the bun inside jade’s gift, it can help establish that Alpha John later would become truly intangible and floating through not just earth, but all of homestuck itself

anyway, those are my thoughts for this idea, I think there’s a lot to go on here

the only thing thats not involved are sprite shenanigans, but If I could find a way to involve those then I would :P

maybe instead of dying at the green sun with Dave and Rose he somehow gets thrown into an sprite somewhere and becomes actual RoboBunJohnsprite (even though everything’s taken already and can’t be altered) maybe it can happen instead of Tavris or GCATavris who knows is BunJohn even survives somehow

shenanigans! shenanigans i say

[clonerightsagenda]

I was looking at old tj posts trying to decide which to move to ao3 (a project I will deal with later) and like, the old ones had multiple scenes and some gesture at a narrative arc. Then the semester showed up and started kicking my ass. However, I tried to put a little more effort into this one with some type of character movement, but I ran out of time to really make that *work*. Obviously Aradia was perfect for Halloween. 

tuesjade prompt: Halloween

You've been exploring for a few weeks, and when you come back, the house's decor has changed. The leaves of the trees nearby have turned vivid colors. There are bright orange gourds set out on the front porch which, after you sample one, don't taste particularly good. There's also a cartoonish skeleton dangling from a hook on the front door. You give it a friendly nod as you walk inside.

Jade is the only one in the living room. "You're back!" she says. "Did you find anything interesting out there?"

"It's all interesting," you say. "Not as interesting as here right now, though. What's going on? Are we displaying one of our kills to intimidate the neighborhood? I thought we were taking a more conciliatory stance."

"Oh no." Jade frowns and sniffs the air. "Did Jaspers leave something dead outside again?"

"No, I meant the skeleton."

"Oh." She laughs. "It's for Halloween. That isn't until the end of the month, but we've started early. There was a lot of debate over that addition, actually. Some people thought it might be tasteless. But since it's the first time a lot of us have celebrated, we're going all out. You should see all the tacky shirts we've found at the store.” She taps her chest, which is currently emblazoned with the slogan, “Witch, please.”

Now you remember. Halloween is one of those seasonal human holidays. You've heard it mentioned before, but either it hadn't come up again or you'd been out in space when it had. If it involves decorating things with skeletons, you're all for it, although the gourds you could live without. "What is this tradition about, anyway?"

"I'm not sure I'm the best person to ask. I've never celebrated it myself. It's hard to trick or treat when you're living alone. But in general... it's a chance to get spooky!" She giggles. "And more importantly to dress up and eat yourself sick."

"A lot of your holidays seem to involve eating yourself sick," you observe.

"America is a culture of excess," she says, deadpan. "That is Rose's official position on the matter."

"What's yours?"

She purses her lips for a moment and then nods. "I'm new here, but I think it's kind of fun. I'm going to be Marie Curie. Roxy is going as Ada Lovelace, we will be classy and educational."

You frown, left behind. "Wait, you're going to *be* someone?"

"That's part of the point! Well, you don't actually "be" them." These clarifications are important. You've learned, in your attempts to communicate cross-species, never to assume understanding. "But you dress up and pretend to be someone else! That's part of Halloween, being in disguise. I think it goes back to trying to scare ghosts away by being scarier? But now it's just for fun. Younger kids go around asking for candy, it's called trick or treating."

Scaring away ghosts is a strategy you'd never considered. You'd tried to help, although as a young troll your abilities had been limited. Instead, you'd practiced being polite and understanding. The few times you could make things right (putting a warning sign up by a patch of crumbling cliff, retrieving a favorite token for a grieving moirail) even more spirits had crowded around you, desperate for aid or just someone to talk to. Had humans felt similar pressure, to make a whole tradition off frightening the dead away?

"We have something a little similar," you explain. "Normally it's a cullable offense to disguise yourself as another caste, but we have one day when it's encouraged. You can try to move up a few rungs and claim special privileges for a while. Of course, if your disguise isn't good enough and a highblood notices, they’ll still punish you, probably fatally. I guess that's our version of tricks or treats."

"It's not that high stakes here." Jade frowns. "Is every holiday from your planet that messed up?"

"More or less. At least then the disguises had a point.” You settle onto the back of the couch. Maybe you’re weightless off-planet, but it’s nice to sit down. “You do something similar, when you're younger. I'm not sure I understand why you'd keep doing it. Is the purpose to get away from yourself?”

Jade shrugs. “I guess some people might want to escape being them for a while. But I just like science, and Marie Curie made some important discoveries, even though I'm glad I won't get radiation poisoning. Looking back it's probably a good thing I went God Tier, otherwise all that uranium wouldn't have been good for me."

"I would be dead young myself," you say cheerfully. Jade's eyebrows draw together, and you guess you've misjudged your response, or your tone. That happens a lot. "Thanks for explaining this to me," you say, to move the conversation along. "It sounds interesting."

"Sure. Do you have anything you'd like to dress up as? I bet Alternia must have had some neat intellectuals, although most people would say that's a boring idea." Jade plucks at the fabric of her sleeve. "Mostly I just think it'll be easy to get a lab coat."

You touch your own shirt protectively. "I'm not so sure about that part. I'm happy as myself."

“Whatever suits you.” She picks up her phone. “I’ll let everyone know you’re here. Welcome back!”

 Apparently you didn't miss *all* the Halloween prep, because a few days later everyone makes a trip to the Halloween store. (Almost everyone. Calliope and Kanaya insist on making their outfits by hand and split off to the fabric store instead.) The building is noisy and filled with distractions, plastic skulls that laugh when you press a button, enormous coffins that swing open and closed. It seems like humans save up all their gruesome and grisly impulses and unleash them at once. No wonder the holiday has begun slipping outside its proper temporal bounds. One day isn’t nearly enough.

Everywhere, of course, are costumes. Jade is trying on a pair of fake wolf ears as a joke when Hal shows up with a silvery outfit in a package. You're nearby examining a bust with curled horns a lot like yours, so you overhear. "Check it out," he says. "Sexy robot. Do you think this would make Dirk regret we were born?"

"Halloween is an opportunity to dress up as something you want." Jade returns the ears to the shelf. "Do you want to waste that chance annoying Dirk?"

Hal scowls. He'll give you two the time of day as honorary members of the once prototyped club, but Jade has a tendency to not put up with his excesses. It's hard for him to carry on when she starts using the reproving voice. "I admit I'm not feeling the robo-tits," he says. "But the skirt ain't bad. Not like I can wear an outfit with pants."

"As someone who was a sexy robot for a while out of necessity, I'd vote against it," you say.

"Hmmm." He turns the package over in his hands. "I've got it, what about a Minion?"

Jade brightens. "Oh, those cute yellow guys from Despicable Me? I only ever saw the ads, the world ended before the movie came out. They looked nice, though."

Hal tosses the package back onto a nearby shelf. "That's right, you were spared before their reign of marketing terror. Only Dirk and Roxy would comprehend the full scale of horror. Maybe I'll split the difference, go as a sexy minion."

Jade rolls her eyes. "How about you go tell Dave the animatronic raven over there isn’t alive and he should stop trying to intimidate it.”

He retreats, and Jade wanders off. Before you move on, you reach out and slide the sexy robot costume far back on the shelf, where no one will see it.

 "I'm surprised you didn't come back with three bags of junk from that Halloween store," Sollux says. You've brought some food up for him, since he didn't come down for group dinner again, involved in some sort of project or Internet discussion. He’s accumulated a cult following online, even if he hasn’t made as many inroads as you here. That's not so different than before - back on Alternia he told you and the rest of his long-distance friends that most of his neighbors wanted to kill him. "It's stupid, but it sounds like the kind of intercultural thing you'd be into. No offense. It's even got your aesthetic."

"None taken. I do appreciate the more relaxed attitude toward the morbid. I think hangups like those are counterproductive. That part doesn't bother me." You bite into one of the rolls you brought up for him, and he grumbles and snatches the plate away. "It's the costumes I'm not sure about."

"Hell, you ran around dressed as Troll Indiana Jones half the time anyway," he says, through a mouthful of crumbs. "I don't think it's any different."

"I don't know. Maybe." You're not sure why it feels different now. Only that there's an aversion in you bone deep to pretending you're something you're not. "I'll think about it."

And you do.

Here is what it is to be a Maid: you are made. Grown in a society where you are told what you are and who to be, propaganda pushed from every angle. Reduced to a shade by a vengeful former friend with whatever feelings that were yours buried under the demands of the summoned dead. Game knowledge pumped into your mind accompanied by the reminders that you are meant to play a role and do what the game asks of you. All else is secondary. Even you. Your soul bound in circuitry with programming trying to guide your affections until you tore yourself apart. You'd betrayed friends and doomed timelines and watched thousands of copies of yourself get destroyed by a vengeful demon because you had to, and because so many forces beyond your control had set you on that path. So when you rose, transcendent, from a cracked disc of stone, you were done. No one else would tell you who to be. Especially not some human tradition fixated on hiding what you’ve worked so long to bring to the surface.

 The next time you pass through the common room, Calliope has taken it over with a sewing machine and newspaper patterns spread all over the floor. "Hello!" she says when she sees you, narrowly avoiding swallowing a pin. "Would you mind holding this flat for me?"

You hold two pieces of fabric steady while she guides them through the sewing machine. Several other brightly colored pieces have already been stitched together and piled up. "What are you making?"

"Jake and I are going as superheroes. I suppose we already are that, in a manner of speaking, but we're dressing as our characters from that comic we've made. If this silly hood will sew up right," she adds, as the sewing machine jams.

"Do you think they're better than you?" you ask as she wrestles with it.

She frowns, spitting out a pin onto the table. "What?"

"I don't understand why everyone is excited to pretend to be something else. Aren't you happy with being you?"

"Oh, I see where you're coming from." She pops open the top of the sewing machine and starts extricating a tangled mess of thread. "You know, I used to dress up all the time because I hated the way I looked. I wished I could be a troll, because I thought you were lovely, and I envied you the lives you led."

"You envied us?"

"I had a romanticized notion, to be sure, but anything was better than being chained to a wall." She yanks, and the thread snaps out. "I envied that you weren't alone."

"And you're not anymore."

"I'm not! And everyone has seen my face, and it no longer seems quite so monstrous. I'm not hiding it. That's not what this is all about. It's about... well, I guess it's almost about showing yourself off."

You glance at the sketch she's working from. "That neckline does look a little low."

"Oh, there's going to be a fabric insert, not that I have anything to flaunt. What I meant is, it's a chance to highlight something about yourself. What you like, what you care about. Something you created. It's not self-deprecation, it's self-expression." She flicks the machine on again. "Luckily in my case the skills are transferrable. Now, mind helping me with this last seam?"

You do, and she adds the component to the pile. It’s hard to tell how they’ll go together to form the outfit she’s sketched as a guide. It’s clear she’s put a lot of care into it, though. "I appreciate you trying to explain.”

"Happy to be of help. We're all learning about this world together." She smiles, an expression full of teeth, and you don’t know why she ever would’ve wanted to hide it.

 You never participated in the one day on Alternia when lowbloods went in disguise. It didn't seem worth the risk, and you had no desire to take your turn at bossing people around. You remember the atmosphere though, shot through with dread, people pretending to grasp at what they could never have. The wanting gave them away more than sloppy costuming. Those born into higher castes took it as their due.

The mood here is different. People mill around laughing and talking, running down the halls adjusting wigs or asking someone to zip them up. The doorbell rings over and over, and Jane's father has stationed himself there with a bowl of candy and an obligatory pair of disguise spectacles. Everyone is... happy. Even Sollux has emerged, dressed in what looks like formal wear and still using his husktop, which he's balanced atop a platter. "What are you doing?" you ask.

"I'm a web server," he says drily. "This is what happens when you don't volunteer any ideas."

"I thought you thought this was stupid."

"It is, but everyone else is doing it, and I got bored." He snickers. "You should see what KK got talked into. Bet it itches."

You take a look around, but you don't see Karkat. You do see Calliope in her finished outfit, beaming as Kanaya compliments her on her stitching.

"You're the odd one out, AA," Sollux says.

You roll your eyes and dash off.

 Jade is already in her lab coat costume. "Hey," she says when you approach. "How a-"

"I know it's last minute," you interrupt, "but can you find me a hat?"

"A hat?"

"The kind troll Indiana Jones wears." You shape the outline of its brim on your head. "A fedora, I think it's called."

"I don't think we have any in the house." She bites her lip and then snaps her fingers. "It's too late to go out and buy one. We'll borrow one for the night, but try not to damage it, ok?"

The hat appears in a flash of green, and you grab it out of the air. It'll sit awkwardly over your horns, but that's ok.

"So you've decided to do a costume after all, huh?"

"I used to do this one all the time." You have a jacket that'll work, and of course your whip is always on hand. "I misunderstood before. I thought it was about hiding yourself, but I get it now. You're expressing yourself even more than usual. It’s a day when you can put things in plain sight."

“That’s a nice way of putting it.” She reaches out and settles the hat evenly on your head, businesslike. “We’re going to see if anyone’s willing to give a bunch of teenagers free handouts. See you downstairs in five?”

“I’ll be there,” you say, and race upstairs.

[10oclockdot]

How to Make a Body Disappear

At the very beginning, cinema was a window. It offered views of the world, a rectangle through which to peer and see distant places. But then, scarcely half a decade into its infancy, cinema discovered that it could also be an eye. This is a significant distinction. Conceived as a window, the camera's ontology was presentational, not corporeal. Even in a close-up, the camera was understood to look in on the story space, rather than to enter into the story space. But around 1900, with a cluster of films like G. A. Smith's Grandma's Reading Glass (below) or Zecca's What Is Seen Through a Keyhole, filmmakers started to use the camera to represent the exact point of view of a character. The camera thus entered into the story space -- indeed, it seemed that the camera entered into the eye and body of a character. The camera, once a ghost observing unseen, now seemed to briefly take possession of people in the narrative.

As with all things in the Classical Hollywood system, hierarchies of priority soon developed. Camera-as-window came to dominate, and still does, with camera-as-eye employed sparingly, to show us the contents of a note, or the view through a peephole. Sure, there were one-off busts, like The Lady in the Lake (1947), which attempted to set an entire film in Robert Montgomery's perspective, and sure, experimental filmmakers from Vertov to Deren to Brakhage treated the camera as a prosthesis of their own subjective vision, each in their own way. But mainstream cinema wasn't in the business of cranking out Russian Arks, Into the Voids, or Hardcore Henrys on a regular basis, and it still isn't.

Still, even as systematized and tamed as Hollywood made the POV camera, from time to time this entry into a body could still surprise or unnerve us. About 10 minutes into Nicholas Ray's 1950 noir In a Lonely Place (above), we suddenly enter the eyes of screenwriter Dix Steele while coat-check girl Mildred Atkinson tells him the story of a novel he's been tasked to adapt. Before this point, the camera had been strictly a window. But now, we wonder in alarm, why are we in his eyes? What will he see? What will he do? What power does he have? This instance of the technique feels unmotivated, wrong. It makes us uneasy. But somehow it also psychologically primes us to accept, later, that Dix might've killed someone. A decade later, Psycho and Peeping Tom would both implant us within a killer's eyes (in the latter, his eye is, reflexively enough, a camera). And by the late 70's and early 80's, thanks in large part to Carpenter's elaboration of Hitchcock, it was stock and trade for the slasher film to shock audiences by teleporting them into the killer's eyes.

Consider the clever ways that contemporary horror films have used the POV. In Paranormal Activity (Peli, 2007), we view the entire story through an object within the diegesis: the boyfriend's video camera, which he uses to document the events of the day, trying to explore and capture evidence of a supernatural entity which has invaded the house. For as long as he holds the camera, we accept it as an extension of his eye. Which is to say, as long as he holds the camera, we, the audience, feel like we're walking around in his body. So, when he sets the camera down on his dresser to film himself and his girlfriend at night -- to see whether something happens while they sleep -- it feels like our vision is now severed from our bodies, like we're souls having an out-of-body experience. Our eye, the camera's eye, and the boyfriend's eye were collapsed into a single gaze for so long that we can't help but feel that we're watching ourselves sleep. But even as horrors unfold in the room, we're powerless to wake ourselves up. We can't re-enter our body. We pound and scream against the camera-as-window, but it won't become an eye again. It's terrifying.

Early in The Witch (Eggers, 2015), a 17th-century Puritan girl plays peekaboo with her baby brother. Through the infant's eyes, we witness as she holds her hands over her face, pulls them away, and yells "Boo!" repeatedly. But after one "Boo!" he expression suddenly falls to panic. For an instant, we wonder, "What's wrong with us? Do we look different?" The reverse angle reveals something we could barely imagine: the baby is gone. We're gone. I remember almost protesting when I watched The Witch the first time-- "I can't be gone! My eyes are still there!" But Eggers has tricked us: in the time it took to cut to the reverse angle of the infant and back to the girl's face, he'd reassigned the very same camera angle from eye to window. Of course, it was never really an eye or a window. It was only ever a camera; really, we'd tricked ourselves.

But no filmmaker ever so skillfully toyed with this habituated reading of camera-as-window or camera-as-eye as Stanley Kubrick in 2001: A Space Odyssey. About halfway into the film we get our first POV shot looking through the eye of HAL, the computer with a human voice and, possibly, consciousness. We see HAL looking more than we look through HAL, but nevertheless we associate sinister surveillance and power with this gaze, and we understand the filmic grammar of leaping into and out of his eye(s). (By the way, when you watch 2001 and it cuts to HAL's POV, does it feel like you're standing behind the wall, or as though the entire ship is your body? Or something else?)

After Dave Bowman defeats HAL and embarks "beyond the infinite" in the film's final act, Kubrick abandons HAL's eyes and enters Dave's. Again, the camera oscillates between Dave's perspective on the Stargate and Dave's eyes, looking. It's as though the film is telling us, over and over again, here is an eye looking, and here is what that eye sees. Here is an eye looking, and here is what that eye sees. Like a law of nature, we expect camera-as-window and camera-as-eye to remain perfectly distinct and complementary.

When Dave lands in that peculiar room, the grammar of alternating between Dave's face and his POV continues. Until, coming around a corner, we see a man from behind, seated some distance away across the room. We're seeing him through Dave's eyes. We're sure!-- the contrapuntal editing told us so. But the camera-eye comes to a halt, stays still and stares for some time. Slowly, the man turns to look at us, gets up, and walks toward us. Who is this? Will he greet us?

As he crosses the room, everyone in the audience notices, and each at their own different dawning moment, that this isn't another person. This is Dave, this is us. And as he walks toward us, we notice that he doesn't seem to be seeing us. In the space of ten or twenty seconds, we go from certainty that we are eyes and a body, to doubting that we are eyes and body, to accepting that we are neither eyes nor body. Slowly, Dave's body and eyes seem to dissolve away beneath us, to dissipate, to vanish. With a profound gulp of unease, we realize that what was true at the beginning of the shot is no longer true -- we're not in a body anymore. Dave’s over there, and we’re a ghost. Stanley Kubrick has made our body disappear: all offscreen, all in our minds. It’s a ravishing magic trick. And for the rest of the film, we never re-enter a body. The star-child evolves without us. We can only look on in wonder.

[cherryppopsicles]

There are things I want to tell you, that I don’t think I’ll ever get the chance to, simply because they’re not likely to come up in a normal conversation. I don’t know if I’ll ever tell you about how nice living with Bro and Mom was before they split. I don’t know if I’ll ever show you the tapes she sent us a while ago. I don’t know if I’ll ever tell you about how much I hated Dave when we were really young, or about how close I’ve come to up and leaving so many times, or about how sometimes I look in the mirror and it’s a toss up between whether I’ll see the face of a monster, or me, and I don’t know which is worse. It feels like a broken record, how everything seems to come back to him. I mean, fuck, get some original trauma, damn. I’m a one trick fucking pony.

I don’t know, dude. Will I ever tell you about how sometimes I just want someone to tell me that I’m pretty? I know I’m the coolest motherfucker out there, but I just want to know that I look nice. That’s the gayest shit, and I hate that. I really really hate how gay I am. A lot. That’s some more fucked up shit that we don’t have time to unpack, but it’s there. Sometimes I see a post with an outfit that isn’t ironically terrible, something that’s obviously meant for girls, but I still think it could be nice. It’s fucked up that even though my brother is fucking trans I still can’t bring myself to even think about buying a skirt or like. Some cute underwear or something. I’ll support Dave to the ends of the Earth and further in terms of his identity, but I can’t think about myself like that without feeling sick. I’m not gay. I can’t be gay. Just like I can’t cheat in Bro’s games. It’s irrational. What can he possibly fucking do at this point? Literally nothing. But I’m still hung up about it.

I was talking with HAL yesterday, up on the roof. I wasn’t going to do anything, god knows I’m too much of a pussy to. But we were talking. It would be really easy for him to replace me. Like PH, I guess. Except. More voluntary on my party. I think only Dave, Cass, and Cro would really notice. He could just tell you not to come over until he got someone to build his body. Break it off with you on my behalf so you don’t get suspicious. Completely replace me. Would anyone even care, if they noticed? It’s hard to say yes, I don’t believe it. Maybe it would be better that way. I mean, it definitely would be, but.

I guess there is no “but” about that statement.

I like being alone, I like having my space, but too often it seems like the only way to get people to like you is to throw yourself out of that and burn yourself out completely on other people. It’s getting so hard to do that. I want to be seen, but I hate it when people look at me. I barely go out. Dave’s never home. I like my space usually, but sometimes I need to talk to someone that isn’t family or my own fucking brain, and then who do I go to? I cut Jake and Jane off. I haven’t talked to them in years. I don’t have any other friends I can talk to. I could talk to you, but I can’t tell you about all this shit. You have your own shit to deal with. I only talk to my therapist for an hour every two weeks. I need a friend. Maybe I’m just lonely.