#gladiatorstuck

[othercat2]

fic: two for mirth 49/?

Coming back up is slow. Everything is a blur, soft focus. The walls of a hospital room appearify, white-beige, and no window. He can hear footsteps, voices outside the room but it feels like he’s under water. There’s an entertainment screen that’s showing some wiggler progam that he has just enough wit to feel vaguely indignant about. There’s a chair by his bed, and curled up in it in a way that can’t be comfortable, there’s…

“Dave,” Karkat says. His voice rasps and he can’t seem to do more than a creaky little whisper.

Dave stirs, seems a little confused himself, then almost falls out of the chair as he scrambles upright. “Karkat,” he says, voice too loud, and also painfully relieved. “Hey, you’re awake,” Dave says in a more even tone, obviously trying to cover for almost falling over. He moves in closer, caresses Karkat’s cheek. “You’ll do anything to avoid meeting the family, huh?” Dave smiles a slight, shaky little smile that makes Karkat’s bloodpusher stutter with entirely flushed pity.

“That’s exactly what happened,” Karkat says, smiling in return. “Water?”

“Why settle for water, when you can have AJ?” Dave says, and comes up with a sealed bottle of apple juice. He raises the bed a bit, opens the bottle. With some fumbling and some assistance from Dave, he’s able to take a sip.

“Is Jade all right?” Karkat asks after taking another sip.

“You took most of the bullets,” Dave says. “One went right through you, and got her in the gut, but she’s otherwise okay. Apparently has a subjugglator girlfriend now, but fine.”

Karkat makes a confused noise, not quite able to wrap his mind around it, or form words to question it.

“Yeah, I don’t know either,” Dave says. “I literally don’t know anything at all, except for what’s on the news, since I’m not actually next of kin or a quadrant and the only reason they let me stay in here was because they thought I was going to fly off the handle otherwise. Want me to call the doctorturer?”

Karkat hums at that, then gathers together enough of his scattered brain cells to reach up, and pap Dave on the cheek. “No flying off handles,” he says, and frowns.

Dave’s laugh has a decidedly watery sound to it. He presses Karkat’s hand to his cheek, then kisses Karkat’s palm. “Okay, sure. I can do that.”

“News, then doctortur,” Karkat says.

“You sure you’re going to be able to be awake for it?” Dave asks.

Karkat hums and frowns at Dave. He glances meaningfully at the screen, and Dave laughs and comes up with the remote. It takes some searching before they find a news segment handling the assassination attempt. The news reports that the snipers had been caught, and that his moirail was on his way. He tries to tell Dave to get a hold of Eridan, but he’s asleep before he can put the words together.

He’s a little more clearheaded when he wakes up. He learns from the nurse and the doctor that he’d been shot several times in the in the back and the gut. His aeration sponge had been hit; two had gone through his digestion tubes, and one lodged itself in his hip. He’d lost a lot of blood, and there had apparently been some problem finding him a donor. (Absolutely no surprise there.) A subjugglator named Leonis Myrmic apprehended one of the shooters; police caught the second five days later. Karkat had been out of it for more than a week. It seems that Jade had been targeted by a racist group with an intense hatred for the repatriated. Aside from informing the police, Jade hadn’t done anything about it.

Awake, things become extremely busy. He has to talk to the police investigators, and then Ampora. Eridan is shaky, angry and swearing to cull the (human) security detail, who had missed the shooters. “I’m pretty sure culling is illegal here,” Karkat says.

“I’ll have ‘em extradited,” Eridan says immediately. “That is, if Makara doesn’t go after ‘em first.”

“Gamzee isn’t going to cause a diplomatic incident,” Karkat says.

“He flippin’ is a diplomatic incident!” Eridan shouts.

Eridan’s moirail, expression serene, reaches up and quite brazenly paps him. Eridan’s fins flutter win embarrassment, but he settles. “I’m sure the Emissary knows his moirail’s mind better than you, love,” Gernuk says affectionately.

“What mind,” Eridan and Karkat accidentally chorus.

“Seriously, Eridan,” Karkat says, half a beat after that. “He’s grown up a lot.”

“To be the whimsical head of a cult of murderpranking loonies,” Eridan mutters. “All right, it’d be a bad idea to keep him away, anyway.” He glares. “But if he culls me because of this outrageous fuckery, I’m haunting your ass, is that understood?”  

“He won’t cull you,” Karkat says, a little exasperated.

Later he hears from Jade, and strangely enough, Leonis Myrmic. They come to visit from across the hall, Jade in a four wheeled device being navigated by Leonis It’s a little strange seeing a Subjugglator pushing a four wheeled device, let alone seeing one with diamonds in their eyes for a human academic-activist. “So, make up dinner, to make up for being my meat shield?” Jade asks after talking around the situation.

“Well, for not telling me you’ve been getting threats,” Karkat says. “Or might be in danger of getting shot by crazy human ‘racists’.”

Jade waves her hands in an exasperated gesture. “Crazy racists are a thing that happens!” she says. “I can’t cave and let them take over my life!”

“You woulda lost yours, sugargrub, if the Emissary hadn’t played ‘meatshield,’” Leonis says.

“You were there too, Lee!” Jade says. She tries to twist around to look at Leonis, and then freezes with a distressed sound, arms cradling her abdomen. “Owww.”

Leonis immediately squats down at the side of the chair. “So I was. You need me to get a doctorturer?” She asks.

“No, just sore,” Jade says. “Stop fussing at me, you’re worse than Dad!”

“Knew there was a reason I liked that damn dog,” Leonis says.  She rises to her feet, and smiles, at Jade, and then oddly at Karkat. “With all the arguing we do, I never expected to come up pale as bone for Jade. I guess he was let to see a punchline when the Mirthful said, ‘Bitch, someday you’re gonna fall in some quadrant with a heretic and Imma gonna have the biggest damn laugh about it.’”

“I’m just glad you didn’t get shot yourself, though honestly, who wears bioarmor to an academic conference!” Jade says, patting Leonis on the arm with a fond little grin. The affection definitely appeared to go both ways.

“Ninjettes who are ready to throw down for the faith,” Leonis says immediately. “And a good thing too.”

Leonis gives a thankfully unrhymed account of directing someone to call 911, then hunting one of the shooters down. (“One motherfucker was already out of range, but I set loose a most holy terror and got the other.”)

The conversation wanders for a bit, and then Jade says. “Okay Lee, you actually have to tell him. ‘Cause he definitely doesn’t remember you!”

“Well damn,” the Subjugglator says.

“Tell me what?” Karkat asks with a frown.

Leonis sighs. “So, a long time ago, I was all being schoolfed on the old Highblood’s flagship. And I was pissed off that the Highblood surrendered to some heretic who was in a moirallegiance with a jokeblood mutant. And I caused shit with the little motherfucker and he near put me through a wall and I gotta strip tore off me afterward, not for losing, but for fucking around like that at all on account quadrants are motherfucking sacred serendipity, even if it’s a fucking joke, especially if it’s a fucking joke. Then I got sent on a most mirthful and holy quest to learn shit and talk about what I learned and made friends with another jokeblood heretic who followed the Signless Cult. And I meet you again and I think, aight, Imma make up for being a nasty little bitch, and I’m sure you’ll know me on sight and fucking hate me but my sister goes, ‘I bet you it’s all in the past for him and he doesn’t remember,’ and now I owe her dinner and a movie, my treat.”

“Oh, you can afford it!” Jade says.

Karkat laughs a little. “Well, I remember a lot of fights, but not necessarily with who.” He tries to remember the face, and the makeup but can’t quite. The clue is the little gap between her front teeth and the arched nose. And yeah, he remembers her now. He isn’t angry, and he doesn’t hate her. He remembers putting up with her bullshit and the fight and someone coming in to mediate. “You changed your face a bit,” Karkat says, meaning her ‘holy face’ or the paint she was wearing. “You thickened the eyebrows and added opposing crescents under your eyes.”

“The face I was using when I was a kid was pretty basic,” Leonis says. “I changed it up while I was wandering around like the do-gooder mendicant from an adventure serial except all scholarly.”

“Well, I’m not sorry you got in trouble, but I don’t hate you,” Karkat says. “And even though I was pretty pissed at you then, it was a pretty long time ago. I’m glad you were on hand to provide back up and help, so we’re even, I guess.”

“Good, now shake and let bygones be bygones!” Jade says.

She is very insistent that they shake on it, so they do. 

==>

<==

[othercat2]

fic: two for mirth 46/?

Dave sends messages and pictures over the next few days. He and his relatives visit museums, attend plays, visit expensive restaurants. There are a few encounters with paparazzi, but David Strider appears to be skilled at escaping notice. Dave sends Karkat a few short videos of David Strider and his sons sparring, and videos of Dave sparring with his relatives.

 (The constant interactions from Dave makes Karkat feel warm and a little flustered. He had wanted to give Dave time alone with his family. He had told himself to be ready for days of radio silence. He hadn’t expected the opposite, somehow. Dave was sharing his experiences with Karkat, the way a lover might have introduced him to a lusus, or their hatefriends and quadrantmates.)

There’s a flurry of articles and commentary from various journalists and activitists about the visit. The main debate seemed to be whether or not Dave being “allowed” to visit his relatives was some kind of publicity stunt. What purpose such a publicity stunt would serve generally wasn’t clearly stated. Karkat spent a lot of time arguing in the comments and trying to redirect attention away from Dave’s visit. (“I realize mobbing celebrities is second nature, and celebrities don’t generally have much in the way of privacy, but consider the possibility that the celebrity in question might want to have time with his family.”)

Other questions and commentary that came up usually involved whether Karkat was going to free Dave. Those were more difficult to respond to. There was very little he could say about his intentions that wouldn’t go against his agreement with Gamzee to not free Dave until the end of the sweep. (And to not tell Dave he’d be freed at the end of the sweep.) Karkat’s usual responses noted that Dave was still putting his life together after having his previous career taken from him, and that Karkat was looking forward to Dave’s future autonomy. Some reporters more dogged than others would further suggest that he could leave Dave in Terran space. (“That would be entirely up to him. Given that he has access to contacts and connections that would be able to help him get started, I would feel much better about leaving him in the UPT.”) From there he’d segue into speeches about improvements to the services provided repatriates.

[thaliasGoliard (TG) is messaging cardioGraphomaniac (CG)]

TG: hello emissary vantas

TG: let me extend my apologies for the actions of my kid

TG: the kid will also be sending an apology

TG: along with a two thousand word essay on why attempting to cause diplomatic incidents is bad and wrong.

CG: HELLO MR STRIDER. I DOUBT IT WOULD HAVE GONE FAR ENOUGH TO BE AN DIPLOMATIC INCIDENT

CG: MR DIRK STRIDER SEEMED TO HAVE HIS BROTHER WELL IN HAND

TG: yeah dirks a good kid and still a few steps ahead of hal in programming thank god

TG: but apologizing for my kid is not the entire reason for this contact.

CG: WHICH IS WHY YOU’RE CONTACTING ME VIA MY PRIVATE HANDLE

TG: yea dave gave it to me

TG: said if I wanted to know about you I should ask you myself.

CG: …

CG: I’M WILLING TO ANSWER ANY QUESTIONS YOU MIGHT HAVE.

CG: IF YOU’LL TELL ME IN WHAT SITUATION LED TO HIM TELLING YOU THAT.

There was a pause.

TG: well lets say that my understandable concern for the son of my estranged asshole older brother led to the expression of sincere emotions like something from a family drama featuring extremely dysfunctional parent-child relationships and attacks of invisible pachyderms and armies of skeletons in all of the closets.

TG: the skeleton invasion ran right over the chaos left by the invisible pachyderms. nothing but rubble for miles around in the eerie silence left by the natural disaster the traumatized survivors crawl out of the ruins to stare with blinking eyes at the rising sun the rays shedding a benediction of new hope for the ragged refugees of the disaster as the relief vans come up the road with soup kitchens tents and first responders

TG: all welp now we have to rebuild and make sure everyone has a place to sleep and food to eat and all that jazz.

TG: huh ive never done a disaster film ill have to study up on the genre but i think i can mostly play it straight then do something completely ridiculous well more ridiculous than the actual genre if some of the move clips and critiques ive seen are any indication

CG: YOU ARE DEFINITELY RELATED TO DAVE

CG: SO TO TRANSLATE YOU HAD AN ARGUMENT WITH DAVE AND THINGS GOT SAID BUT WHATEVER HAPPENED WASN’T BAD ENOUGH TO MAKE DAVE COME BACK EARLY.

CG: UNLESS THE ARGUMENT JUST HAPPENED AND HE’S ON HIS WAY.

TG: no it was last night

TG: and yes there was an argument

TG: i think it might have been a good thing actually

TG: shit definitely needed to be said.

CG: SO YOU AND DAVE HAVE TALKED OUT WHATEVER NEEDED TALKING OUT?

TG: yeah i guess so

TG: and now i need to talk to you because goddamn do i have questions

==>

<==

[othercat2]

fic: two for mirth 44/?

cardioGraphomaniac (CG) invited JohnEgbert (JE) to memo: So That’s a Thing That Happened

cardioGraphomaniac (CG) invited RoseLalonde (RL) to memo: So That’s a Thing That Happened

cardioGraphomaniac (CG) invited  EridanAmpora (EA) to memo: So That’s a Thing That Happened

cardioGraphomaniac (CG) invited Nona Egbert (NE) to memo: So That’s a Thing That Happened

cardioGraphomaniac (CG) invited terminusGladiates (TG) to memo: So That’s a Thing That Happened

 cardioGraphomaniac (CG) uploaded file terrifyingthreatsfromwiggler.fil to memo

 CG: I’LL JUST PUT THAT ON THE TABLE SO EVERYONE CAN TAKE A LOOK AT IT

CG: QUICK LEGAL QUESTION, WAS DAVE’S RESPONSE TO THE ORIGINAL MESSAGE THAT APPARENTLY INSPIRED THIS KID TO TRY TO SPOOK ME OR SOMETHING IN ANY WAY ACTIONABLE?

NE: I’m not a lawyer, but it was a pretty neutral statement! It doesn’t confirm or deny anything. And it certainly hasn’t seemed like Dave’s riding on anyone’s coat tails.

TG: because thats what im known for

TG: tooling around making a name for myself based on shit I didn’t do

TG: not that theyd know my rep

JE: it’s like that one movie about the guy who was a regional champion at tracing but was just a small fish in a big pond when he tried to go planetary! “‘but I’m the best where I come from.’ ‘yeah where you come from, this TriPoint.’” eheheheh

TG: …

CG: YES JOHN EXCEPT WHERE IT’S NOTHING LIKE THAT AT ALL.

RL: I think John may mean that in a sense to the youngest Mr. Strider, Dave seems like an upstart challenging his father’s crown so to speak. Dave and David do seem to have similar senses of humor as well as a number of similar quirks, despite the differences in the environments they were raised in.

EA: Well they seem to be Ancestor and Descendent s—

EA: Welp I’ve been informed it don’t work like that for humans. Sorry.

JE: i thought that was just a religious thing like reincarnation

CG: IT IS

EA: Not necessarily. I think there’s definitely more than a bit of truth to the “Ancestor” thing. I got a few ideas how that all works but I’m pretty sure if I tried to find out anything solid Kan would take me apart slow but I’m pretty sure it’s definitely a thing.

EA: Anyway from what I see Dave deliberately covered his ass in his original statement in order wait for acknowledgement or request for evidence of some kind, right?

TG: yeah

EA: Which was a good move. You are much better at this diplomacy thing than Kar. Which I know is damned faint praise, believe me.

There was a five second pause.

EA: You’ve really grown as a person Kar, I expected to get banned from the memo for that one.

CG: I’VE GOT THE BANHAMMER RIGHT HERE AMPORA DON’T THINK I WON’T USE IT. EVENTUALLY.

EA: So you got contact from a minor member of the family, which to my understanding this is a lot like in a Military SF novel where the cadet or ensign or whatever does a dumb hotheaded thing and needs getting his ear twisted by a older wiser non-com.

NE: Oh, you have that trope too? Though I suppose it would have more romantic connotations?

EA: Yes captain, on both counts. So, it’s pretty much on them for an adult to apologize and make nice.

RL: That’s more or less accurate, though Mr. Strider’s idea of “nice” is notoriously eccentric.

CG: HE HASN’T COME UP WITH AN OFFICIAL STATEMENT YET. AND THERE HAS BEEN SOME PRETTY RIDICULOUS THEORIZING IN THE TABLOIDS. I MEAN MORE RIDICULOUS THAN SOME OF WHAT I’VE BEEN SEEING.

TG: one of them did an interview with someone who saw half of my fight with pitchfit

TG: i have apparently been secretly experimented on and have psionics

TG: and can be in two places at once

TG: so do we wait for mr strider to say something

TG: send him a note

TG: offer to send him a genescan?

EA: Wait a bit, then contact them.

EA: See what they do.

CG: IS THAT WHAT YOU MIGHT WANT TO DO DAVE?

TG: maybe

TG: have you gotten anything from them since then

CG: NO. DIRK SAID HE WAS GOING TO TELL HIS FATHER ABOUT HIS LITTLE BROTHER’S SHENANIGANS, BUT IT MIGHT BE A DAY OR TWO BEFORE DAVID STRIDER GOT BACK. HE IS APPARENTLY ATTENDING A CONFERENCE FOR INDIE FILMMAKERS.

TG: kinda think i want to send a note first, then wait.

TG: uh egbert think you can translate and check my spelling when im done

JE: of course dave!

TG: good

CG: SO ARE THERE ANY OTHER ISSUES RELATED TO THIS WE NEED TO ADDRESS? ANY MORE ADVICE OR THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS?

NE: No advice but—good luck Dave, on being able to meet your family. I hope they welcome you, you’re a fine young man!

RL: If you need to talk about families in general, or about meeting your family and what to talk about feel free to contact me.

JE: same here dave! i promise, not to prank you!

EA: If I have any further thoughts on this I’ll bring em up in private to you and Stri.

CG: …

TG: …

EA: It’s not my fault your first name’s inconveniently one-syllable already.

TG: thanks captain egbert, john, rose, thank you your highness

cardioGraphomaniac closed memo: So That’s a Thing That Happened

JohnEgbert (JE) left memo: So That’s a Thing That Happened

RoseLalonde (RL)left memo: So That’s a Thing That Happened

EridanAmpora (EA) left memo: So That’s a Thing That Happened

Nona Egbert (NE) left memo: So That’s a Thing That Happened

terminusGladiates (TG) left memo: So That’s a Thing That Happened

cardioGraphomaniac (CG) left memo: So That’s a Thing That Happened

 Dear Mr. Strider,

My name is Dave Strider. I was raised by my guardian Derek Strider who may or may not be some relation of yours. From roughly the age of ten to now I have been living in the Alternian Empire as a slave. I was previously the property of Paysun Terhun and I was school fed at West Light Gladiatorial Facility, a prominent schoolfeeding facility in Rakis sector. More recently I am currently the property of Emissary Karkat Vantas, serving as his concubine.

It was brought to my attention that I might be some relation of yours and I noted an interest in meeting you and perhaps confirming this. This caused your son Hali Strider to make certain legal threats based on the assumption that I wanted something from you. This was not the case. My home movies are certainly not an attempt to emulate your movie career or establish a rivalry, but are a hobby I took up because it was entertaining and quickly became a social activity as I met and interacted with quadrant facilitators and entertainers online.

I would no more attempt to follow around in your shadow as a film maker than you would in my footsteps as a gladiator.

If it does turn out we are related, I look forward to making your acquaintance. My guardian barely told me anything about my family when I was a child, and I very much feel the lack. You may contact me directly via Kingfisher’s communications directory, my webmail or by direct message via my bubblr. The Emissary is a very busy man and can’t be expected to handle my communications for me.

Sincerely,

 Dave Strider

[cd: 234-2934 wm: [email protected] bubblr: terminusgladiates.bubblr.com]

 (translator: John Egbert)

==>

<==

[othercat2]

fic: two for mirth 41/?

Karkat wakes up with Dave’s head on his shoulder one of his arms across Karkat’s chest. He can see the pity marks he left on Dave’s shoulder.  Dave is smiling in his sleep and Karkat is filled with an aching sort of fondness, even though his entire arm has gone numb. He’d like to lie there a little longer, just kind of soaking up the feeling of tenderness and remembering last night but it is five minutes until the alarm goes off and he has a full bladder, and his entire arm is deadweight. “Dave, Dave wake up,” Karkat says, and tries to shift out from under him.

“…M’awake,” Dave says, not sounding very awake at all. He snuggles against Karkat and nuzzles at his throat.

Karkat can’t help the breathy little noise he makes or the chirr when Dave scrapes his dull teeth over thick skin that shouldn’t feel nearly as tender and sensitive as it does. It would take some pretty aggressive chewing from teeth like Dave’s for it to feel that way now, and he flushes, remembering that yeah, Dave had been pretty aggressive. There might even be visible pity marks. “Dave, the alarm’s about to go off,” he says, and squirms a little.

Dave hums in agreement, and kisses him. “Just a little longer,” he says. “Nothing really planned til later, right?”

Karkat feels his mouth twitch, but tries to keep from smiling as he says in a serious voice, “Dave, we have to talk about--” He doesn’t get much further than that, because Dave puts a hand over his mouth.

“Not now,” Dave says. “Maybe later. After breakfast?”

Karkat nods and the hand is removed. Dave smirks and leans in for another kiss. Karkat kisses back, but can’t help murmuring, “you killed the circulation in my arm and I need to piss,” in the sexiest voice he can manage.

Dave snorts, and flops down on top of Karkat’s chest, laughing. “So do I,” he says. “I was hoping to distract you and make a break for it.”  

“Heh. You go first, I need to shake the stinging insects off my arm anyway,” Karkat says. He watches Dave abscond, a little clumsily and swearing about his own stinging insects.

Karkat shakes the feeling back into his arm, and peels off the sopor patch, leaving it crumpled on the table by the bed. He notices his reflection in the mirrored closet door. He definitely has visible pity marks. He restrains himself from touching them. He turns off the alarm clock as soon as it goes off, then he picked up the wastebasket that had served as a bucket the night before and carries it somewhat self-consciously to the ablution block. Dave’s already coming out, and there’s a brief awkward pause--they can see each other’s pity marks. Dave is amused, and Karkat is mostly amused at his own embarrassment-- before they can switch places and Karkat can relieve himself and dispose of the genetic material.  

They get dressed, and Dave orders breakfast. They watch the news and conversation mostly revolves around the talk show last night, and social media. Dave is full of a nervous energy, pleased with himself and a little smug, but also nervous. Karkat feels much the same, though maybe a little more nervous. They eat breakfast, and go cuddle on the couch and don’t actually get around to talking for at least an hour.

“I don’t actually want to talk,” Karkat admits. “I kind of want to bask.”

“Basking is nice,” Dave says. “Last night was really nice.” He doesn’t leer, but leering is clearly implied in the very slight tilt of his mouth.

“You need to work on your sexy one liners,” Karkat says, smiling at Dave. “That is, you need to create actually sexy one liners.”  

“Not all of us can be popular romance authors,” Dave says in a ragging tone. Then a little more seriously, “and if I tried to say anything all polished like, it’d ruin the mood, right? You’d go all ‘he’s trying to be a good concubine’ and freeze up, even though that was all settled.”

“Well no, I wouldn’t think that,” Karkat says. “I’d think ‘I fucked up, I fucked up following one simple principle, great job Karkat.’”

“The principle of not making use of the concubine that didn’t want to be there anyway?” Dave asks.

Karkat hears the “didn’t want to be,” and there’s a little mental “skip” and replay of the words that feels purely, absolutely red. “Well the principle that involves completely self-determined and full agency consent.”

“Is that why you bottomed, just to make sure?” The ragging, teasing tone is back. “How many hoops do I have to jump through before I get the official self-determination award? It’s a little engraved brass plaque on a solid redvein base isn’t it.”

“I bottomed because you topped,” Karkat says, rolling his eyes. “Also, whoever is doing which has nothing to do with their supposed ‘dominance’ in a relationship. Anyone who says otherwise is an idiot.”

“Heh. I’ve known a lot of idiots then,” Dave says. “But you kind of have been letting me take the lead a lot.”

“Let’s review the part where I said ‘I bottomed because you topped,’” Karkat says dryly. “Another time there might be some conflict about it, not because of dominance, but because wrestling around and snapping is more pitch, and right now I’m feeling more red.”

“And this conversation is weirdly pale,” Dave says. He doesn’t look very worried about it. Karkat wondered if Dave had talked to someone about it, about aquadrancy.

“Feeling in every quadrant, and wanting someone in every quadrant is pretty much a thing when you’re aquadrant ,” Karkat says. “Flipping fast between quadrants is a wiggler thing, you’re supposed to settle and I never did.”

“So I might get you up in my grill already charred by pitch flames sometime?” Dave asks with a little smirk.

“Sometime, I might, when you present a challenge.”

“Hey, who wins most of our sparring matches?” Dave asks with a not quite mock indignant expression.

“How do you know I’m not taking the fall to watch you do your victory dance?” Karkat purrs smugly.

Dave’s mock outrage turns slightly more real. “Oh fuck that, Vantas, we’re on. You, me, the gym, fifteen minutes, sickle and sword, Imma kick your ass and dance on the carcass.”

Laughing, Karkat heads to his room to change into exercise clothes.

==>

<==

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Thanks to everyone who has liked or commented on my fic!

[othercat2]

fic: two for mirth 40/?

They go to Earth, of course. It’s the home world for humanity and the central seat of government for the United Planets of Terra. Karkat talks to prime ministers and attends hearings. He talks to activists and reporters supporting one position or another. A lot of the conversations are hostile, but Karkat argues them down. It’s not too much different from speaking for the Heiress, while Feferi was looking for allies prior to her Challenge. (It’s also not too much different from the alliance talks during the Challenge.)

Dave is brought up frequently as a bone of contention, or a trump card, as if his arguments were any less true because of Dave. (He’s not surprised that this would be the case.) Karkat finds himself arguing a lot about not only Dave, but Gamzee. Trying to explain Gamzee’s sense of humor and motivations are hard, and also a little exasperating. He doesn’t want to defend Gamzee, but at the same time, he feels he has to. Dave watches this for a few days, looking amused before he steps in during a talk show interview. “Master Makara probably didn’t know anything about the Empress’  plans to have the Emissary investigate the treatment of her gifts,” Dave says in answer to a question to Karkat, John translates. “I say probably because who even knows. I spent a perigee with him and I still couldn’t figure him out.”  

Kamala Nguyen, their interviewer on a late night program frowns. “You have to admit it seems suspicious, that he would attempt to discredit--”

Karkat is about to interject angrily when he’s surprised by Dave making a warning sound. It’s a loud blatting buzz with his mouth and fingers, a fairly accurate impression of the sound that indicates that a hatch or gate hasn’t been closed correctly. Ms. Nguyen straightens, looking surprised. “Nope,” Dave says in English. “Master Makara would never try to discredit Karkat. They’re moirails and that’s kind of important.  This is more of what he’d call a prank from the Mirthful Ones, I think. Something put in motion like we’re all in a romantic comedy being written and directed by terrifying eldritch pranksters.” The rest is translated by John.  

“A romantic comedy?” Ms. Nguyen asks skeptically.

“Well I’m sure master would like to be all ‘this is a political drama with some action’ but no, it’s a romantic comedy. In Which A Former Alien Gladiator and A Romance Author Are Thrown Together by Fate in the Form of the Author’s Highblooded Moirail Who Wants To Manage His Moirail’s Sadly Empty Quadrants. Featuring Pro Emancipationist Rhetoric a Slow Burn Romance a Number of Surprising Revelations Concerning the Highblood’s Actual Motives and Lots of Awkward Discussions About Consent. Warnings For Xenophilia, Quadrant Smearing and Aquadratic Characters,” John translates for Dave.  

“Warning for Aquadratic characters is orientation shaming and inappropriate,” Karkat grumbles, because he can’t help himself.

“Little steps, master. Representation is important but we can’t shock our fan base,” Dave says in English. “Gotta let them know what they’re getting into.”

Karkat snorts. “‘We?’” he asks. “Still not ghost writing your memoirs, Strider.”

“You’ll have no choice; you’ll be lured closer to the pit by the smell of bad grammar and typos. Then my tentacles of prose will drag you under,” Dave says in English.

The conversation turns in the direction of the hypothetical memoir, then briefly back to Karkat’s position as Emissary before it’s time to end the interview.

After spending some time in the green room talking over the phone with  Ampora they head back to the ship, Dave and John talking about the hypothetical memoir. “Are you really thinking about writing a memoir?” John asks Dave once they’re in the limo.

“I dunno, maybe,” Dave says. “I will totally write it as a romantic comedy though,” he says with a teasing glance at Karkat.

“You can write it like fan fiction,” Karkat says. “A coffee shop AU where you stumble into acting as an auspistice for Terezi and Gamzee.”

“Where are you in this fan fic?” Dave asks. “And am I customer at this coffee shop, or a minion of the coffee shop?”

“Minion. I am a mysterious benefactor who you at first only know by the sound of my voice,” Karkat says. “You don’t know until midway through the story that Gamzee is my moirail and Terezi is a good if exasperating hatefriend of mine.”

“Not a potential kismesis?” Dave asks, looking amused.

“Regrettably, I’m still myself in this story, and therefore pretty much all over the place in regards to my quadrants,” Karkat says.  “Also, a mutant and a terrible choice for a concupiscent quadrant.”

“But my hapless flailing because of the ashen flirting awakens a spark of true pity and or sheer exasperation that inspires you to come to my rescue.”

“That and I’m pretty sure Gamzee and or Terezi will kill the coffee shop owner for punishing you for your interventions, rendering the workers’ lives even more complicated and unpleasant.”

“Gotta think about the lives of those ordinary workers, struggling to earn their allowances and buy their retirement,” Dave says, nodding.

“Are you flirting?” John asks, looking a little red in the face. “I’m pretty sure both of you are flirting.”

“That would be a thing that’s happening,” Dave says.

“Do you have a problem with that, Mr. Egbert?” Karkat asks.

“No!” Egbert says quickly. “It’s just hard to tell sometimes?”

“Don’t worry we’re not gonna start macking in the back seat,” Dave says.

“That’s really, really not likely to happen,” Karkat says.

“Master’s shy,” Dave says in a stage whisper to John.

“I have a sense of decorum,” Karkat says in an attempt at a quelling tone. Predictably, it just makes Dave grin.

Dave teases John all the way to the ship and Karkat joins in with an occasional comment of his own. Though there had been a few rocky incidents--like John’s attempt to rescue Dave by purchasing him--Karkat was beginning to feel more than a little hatefriendly toward the human. John was an intelligent if occasionally oblivious individual and watching Dave reduce John to sputtering near-nonsense was entertaining. (John occasionally won the bouts, though not by very much.)

Once in their quarters, they occupy themselves with social media, Karkat on the console, Dave reading on the human equivalent of a husktop, reading the reactions to the most recent interview. (They start a thread with each other on a forum site. Someone asks: Okay so you are both in the same room pretty much? WHY are you arguing with each other in this thread? Dave responds: sometimes is more comfortable to talk in text Karkat writes: YES. THIS IS MORE COMFORTABLE FOR ME ANYWAY AS MOST OF MY EARLY SOCIAL INTERACTIONS WERE VIA TEXT.) The conversation wandered off into the realm of early social development.

After an hour or two on social media they retreat for the couch and the entertainment center. Dave is exploring Terran musical genres so a lot of what they watch are music videos. Karkat notices a certain theme to the lyrics of a number of songs three songs into the most recent playlist and gives Dave a suspicious look. “‘Grind,’ ‘Pump,’  ‘I Want Your Honey’?” Karkat asks.

“Just some songs I want to try out for future dance routines,” Dave says with a little smirk.  

“Pitch dancing to plainly red concupiscent songs?”

“I’m branching out, maybe,” Dave says. “Gonna master all the quadrant styles. Wait, what would ashen dancing look like? Or pale?”

“It wouldn’t look like anything,” Karkat says. “Well okay, there are artistic compositions about moiraillegiance and auspistism but the style you were being taught is a purely concupiscent style.”

“Maybe I should watch them, to practice for Terezi,” Dave says. “Get all pale seductive in her grill.”  

“She gets sad, doesn’t always believe that she’s done anything good or worthwhile, which is plainly idiotic, but depression generally doesn’t make sense anyway,” Karkat says. “Make her breakfast, make her go out to see the moons every so often; she’s actually worse than Sollux if she isn’t on a case.”

“Spilling the beans on your hatefriend?” Dave asks, smiling a little.

“Relaying easily observable facts,” Karkat says, mock-defensively. “Such as a playlist with a theme, and you not answering my question.”

“Your question was literally just repeating song titles, master,” Dave points out. “I have no idea what you mean.”  

“Implied question: are you setting a mood here or something?” Karkat asks. He’s surprised to see a faint blush on Dave’s cheeks.

“Maybe,” Dave says, averting his gaze slightly. “So I figured either you thought I wasn’t ready for the full sex, or you weren’t ready, therefore, mood music.”

Karkat felt his own face heat up, which was ridiculous. He wasn’t some newly Ascended flush ingénue; he was an adult, dammit.  “Mood music. For me or you?” He asks dryly. “You should know my taste in concupiscent music by now; this isn’t it.”

“Well, fight over the remote to make the music stop, kissing, below the pants action,” Dave says. “It’s a romantic classic?”

Karkat pretends to consider it. “It’s acceptable, for a very pre-Ascension style romance like the Black Candy Crush series. ‘Two hatefriends meet for the first time and discover pitch feelings for each other and it’s adorkable.’”

“So you think my mad romance skills are on the same level as a romance book for wigglers?” Dave asks with a frown of not-quite-mock disappointment.

“Only a wiggler thinks there’s something wrong with reading romances written for wigglers,” Karkat says. “Wigglers are so desperate to grow up and matter they think rejecting what they liked as a wiggler is part of being an adult. It’s really sad.” Karkat sighs and shakes his head.

Dave stares at him. “I am not a wiggler,” he says. “Okay, you’re older than me by a few sweeps--”

“Five, at least,” Karkat says. “That’s a pretty considerable chunk of time, for a human.”

“Yeah, I would have been past my prime in another seven or eight sweeps. Maybe I still will be,” Dave says, and wiggles his eyebrows.

“You’ll be just as obnoxiously pitiful and I wouldn’t mind having you around, that is if you still had an interest in my decrepit ass,” Karkat says.

“I’ll push your four wheeled device out onto the patio every evening,” Dave offers. “Serve you soft boiled eggs and cool featherbeast broth for breakfast every morning; mock your collection of literary awards.”

“Heh.” Karkat leans in for a kiss, makes a surprised little grunt when Dave falls back onto the couch, taking Karkat along for the ride. “I’ve gotten one--oh.”  Karkat can feel the line of Dave’s rigid bulge pressing up against him. It makes his bulge shift and press back.  He starts to rise up a little, but Dave pulls him close.

“You’ve got one?” Dave asks mock innocently. “I’ve got one too, and I think it’s past time they had their first play date.”

Karkat sputters, somewhere between laughter and outrage; then Dave is kissing him again, and coherent thought fucks off, never to be seen again.

==>

<==

Note: I have started a Patreon for my original fic (I’d say early chapters of fan fic as well, for patrons, but I’d feel obliged to add all the previous chapters of my current projects which would be a pain. So that will have to wait for new fic projects, that I can start from the beginning.) I could really use the money: and more money means more fic! Check me out and hopefully sponsor me (or fill my tip jar in my blog’s side bar.)

[othercat2]

fic: two for mirth 39/?

There are receptions and galas he attends, usually with Dave accompanying him.  Karkat renews his acquaintance with generals and diplomats, gets introduced to politicians, CEOs and celebrities. The conversations are interesting and occasionally even topical. Karkat asks questions and gets a feel for the political situation surrounding the repatriated. He makes suggestions and (despite protests from Ampora) he argues. (Karkat: “If she wanted someone who was going to be careful and polite she would have picked Kanaya or maybe Equius.”) He talks about serial programs he’s been a guest on and the repatriated leaders and activists he’s spoken to. He answers questions about his books.

No one quite knows how to interact with Dave at first. There’s a certain sense of caution, of embarrassment, a kind of titillated horror. (Occasionally, there’s more than a little pale concern, though no one has made an offer for Dave, at least not where Karkat could hear, and Dave hasn’t said anything.) Dave is amused by the uncertainty and caution. In his broken (but improving daily thanks to John) English he makes jokes, teases the uncomfortable and reassures the concerned.

Dave is a good partner at these parties. Karkat’s better at making speeches, negotiating in more formal settings, managing others giving advice. He is not really good at the more freewheeling conversations and alliances of political courts. Dave has a knack for clever conversation, for making acquaintances. Dave asks questions, he charms. This gives Karkat the opportunity to observe, to judge and plan a conversational strategy.

(Karkat talks to Eridan about Dave getting an Imperial Sponsorship and a monetary reward for his service. Eridan won’t agree to the amount Karkat suggests but agrees to contact Feferi.)

There are some of the expected negative articles and wild accusations from various tabloids. Some of them were of the “slave identifies with captors” variety. When an interviewer one of the programs they were guests on asked questions about it, it’s usually Dave who responds. “I wouldn’t say I identified with my captors,” Dave says in response to the question on one occasion. “I identified with my fellow students, other neophytes and veteran gladiators. There’s a kind of community? Comradery? That’s important to me.”

“Even though you might have to fight someone to the death?” the interviewer asked.

“Maybe especially then? It’s the competition and the art of your weaponkind that’s important,” Dave says. “It’s what you bring to the ring, just you and them and all your strength and skill. Nothing else is really that important.” He glances at Karkat. “Here’s where master jumps in about coercion and the evils of bloodsports.”

“After that heartfelt apologism? I’d be a monster,” Karkat says sarcastically.  

The first time Dave calls him “Karkat” instead of “Master” is a shock. Karkat’s arguing in the comments of an article he’s written, muttering unflattering things about the commenters under his breath.  Dave comes up behind him, drapes his arms around Karkat’s shoulders and sets his chin between Karkat’s horns.  “Don’t you know not to read the comments Karkat?” He asks.

Karkat freezes and accidentally posts a keysmash. The keysmash accurately displays the current state of his thinkpan. “Globfondling shitmonkeys you said my name,” is the first thing that comes to mind. He wouldn’t have thought he’d react so strongly, but his heart is racing and his tangled thoughts tumble over each other in a mess of mostly red-pale feelings.

“Should I not have?” Dave asks, a little uncertain. He starts to pull away, but Karkat catches him by the wrist before he gets too far.

“No, I was surprised,” Karkat says. He lets Dave go, turns the chair around to face him. “I was hoping you would, eventually, but I didn’t expect it, and didn’t want to push it. God.” His voice was shaking a little, his tone rough to his ears.

“My acknowledging your name should totally make you cry tears of joy,” Dave says, teasing but still a little uncertain.  

“If I were crying--which I’m not you unmitigated sack of bulges--it would be tears of frustration,” Karkat says, voice thick. “There’s a--a feeling of pride in your kismesis that they took a step forward in some way. And a feeling of pride in your matesprit that they can trust you. And I’m feeling both at once? It’s fucking ridiculous. I maybe put a lot of weight in you calling me by name, more than I realized?  And holy shit I’m maudlin as fuck.”

“Well, romance writer,” Dave says, smiling. “No surprise you’d be overwhelmed by the intimacy and trust all up in here.”

“Now it’s platonic aggravation I’m mostly feeling,” Karkat says, giving Dave a dark look.

Dave is completely unfazed, moving in for a kiss. “Sure you are,” he says, breaking off the kiss. “Wanna take this to the couch?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“Only if you refrain from wiggling your eyebrows at me for the duration,” Karkat grumbles. He turns back to the computer. “Let me end the conversation--”

“Nah,” Dave says, and pulls the chair away from the keyboard. “You’ll be here all day. Let me.”

He writes in response to a commenter asking about the keysmash: karkat was…….distacted

==>

<==

[othercat2]

fic: two for mirth 36/?

[terminusgladiates.bubblr-fatima.com/chrono]

anonymous asks terminusgladiates: All you are is a creepy brainwashed freak. There are people still recovering from horrific abuse at the hands of Trolls and here you are talking about how slavery isn’t that bad.

nope

pretty sure i never said that looking through all my posts so far and i am pretty sure i never said that

what i did say was that i was pretty lucky after a pretty bad time

more lucky than i think i deserve sometimes when someone else had it worse

(doctor lalonde is at my shoulder right now saying how it’s not a competition about how worse someone else had it)

and if you are saying im brainwashed dont that mean i too am recovering from horrific abuse

because brainwashing = horrific abuse

do you have an ideal template of how an abuse victim is supposed to act that i could follow

im serious here how can i behave in a way you want me too brosis so ill meet your standards

[translator: John Egbert]

calamitycats asks terminusgladiates: Bearing in mind you might not be able to answer. Does anyone decide what you’re going to say?

eh yes and no i pretty much started posting/uploading on my own

wanted to get the ball rolling early before the tabloids did about the capital r relationship

i may have gotten in a tiny amount of trouble with the ambassador

the emissary didnt care though and the actual team handling the press didnt have a problem with it

the emissary reads over my shoulder sometimes and critiques my writing

doctor lalonde occasionally suggests better language

and theres egbert who mostly translates

the only post so far that was nixed was a poll for the other half of the emissarys title

i am not allowed to crowdsource sobriquets

srsly though Loudyell would be the best name

[translator: John Egbert]

Edit to add:

[Note from Emissary: NO IT WOULDN’T STOP TRYING TO MAKE LOUDYELL HAPPEN]

golgothasterror asks: You’re spot on chum! No one person processes what happened to them in the same way. Your anonymous unfriend had no right to speak to you so!

understood gt

anonymous hate is pretty puzzling to me though

its not like id challenge them to a duel

it would make the emissary sad

(it would possibly also make him sad if i talked about how damn cowardly it is so i won’t talk about how damn cowardly it is)

also i think dueling is illegal

challenge them to a bar fight maybe

nothing to see hear officers just a random bar fight

nothing prearranged or anything

[translator: John Egbert]

golgothasterror replies: Ha! I wouldn’t mind a *friendly* bout with you! There was always a bit of rough and tumble with some bets on the side when I was a sprog on AGRI-Station 612413!

i would totally take you up on that bro ive mostly been sparring with master whose no slouch but its been a while since i fought someone taller than me or fought fistkind.  

[translator: John Egbert]

terminusgladiates posted:

[Image: Author Karkat Vantas looking up at the camera and glaring blearily over his breakfast bowl. His hair is a rumpled mess and he’s wearing a fuzzy gray bath robe. ]

caption: before

[Image: Author Karkat Vantas, glaring at the camera while wearing a suit and tie. His hair has not noticeably changed from the previous picture.]

caption: after

heres master off to get his daily scheduled lecturing in as you can see no comb has ever defiled his hair

its a tragic situation here

im accepting donations for the buy my master a comb fund

Edit to add:

[Note from Emissary: STOP COMPLAINING ABOUT MY HAIR DAVE COMPLAINING ABOUT MY HAIR IS NEVER FUNNY.]

ill stop complaining when you actually comb your hair master

[translator: John Egbert]

anonymous asks terminusgladiates: What do you like about dancing? Do you think you might make it a career?

mostly its fun and good exercise i always liked tumbling which was something i got lessons in because being fast and flexible were kind of a requirement when it became pretty clear i wasn’t going to suddenly shoot up a half meter or anything

it became a more invested interest after i started talking with professional quadrant facilitators a few of whom became interested in me and started critiquing my first few dance vids if im doing something i like to be really, really good at it so i started practicing more and adding it to my usual exercise routine or just to get the extra energy out

(maybe a little because im an exhibitionist and masters martyred pining thing was funny)

i dont think it will be a career career i had too late of a start its just going to be one more thing i have up on my trolltube account

[translator: John Egbert]

anonymous asks terminusgladiates: how many trolls have you killed? Do you like killing trolls? Have you ever killed another human?

its not like i have notches on my belt or something citizen

maybe something like a fifty probably more than that

not all fights are to the death unless youre talking execution duels

whether or not you like killing trolls is not exactly something you talk about lest you attract the wrong kind of fan such is the gladiatorial wisdoms that were passed down to me by a veteran gladiator owned by master paysun terhun

yes and that’s pretty much all im gonna say about it except that he was a pirate and im more than happy to kill pirates troll human or denbakian

[translator: John Egbert]

tinymonstergirl asks terminusgladiates: I saw you on Josh Miller last night. You and the Emissary were really funny! (Somehow I didn’t expect that to be a thing?) I was just wondering you were both referring to being owned by the Emissary as a relationship. Do you really think of it that way?

relationship doesnt have to mean a romantic relationship i mean you can call the interactions between a parent and their kid a relationship and you can call interactions between you and your employer a relationship therefore you can call being a concubine to a guy who never wanted one a relationship

and he really really didnt want one in his own words he decided to treat me like a combination of a guest and someones lusus he was taking care of a real hands off approach while trying to be as accommodating and entertaining as possible

it did not go so well my friend it did not go so well at all

later on he realizes he wants to be friends with me and he couldnt let himself do that and later on after that he decides he wants to court my fine self

not an easy thing to do considering he didnt want me to be a concubine since i sure didnt want to be a concubine

(not of course that I have any disrespect for sex workers i am in awe of their mad skills holy shit the things i learned in training and while talking with courtesans at various parties temeri i salute you in all your concupiscences where ever you are i mean hot damn)

and neither of us knew master makara had multiple reasons for setting us up the way he did

so things were strained for a while

but i like talking to him and hes cute and he stays up with me when im having a bad time and hes i have no way to put this that isnt embarrassing as fuck

just bear with me because its embarrassing

nope still got to wait for it

okay fuck

hes kind

just genuinely stupidly concerned about making sure everything is okay and giving me as much space as i need and sweet in really unexpected ways

[translator: John Egbert]

==>

<==

[othercat2]

fic: two for mirth 37/?

They’re in the Leones System for almost two weeks. Two interview programs, a number of public speaking engagements, some introductions to local dignitaries and tours of the various refugee communities. Karkat talks about the Empress’ reform efforts, trade and cultural exchange. He talks to various leaders in the refugee communities on Fatima and various stations in the Leones System, one of whom had made contact with Dave.

Jake English is tall for a human, with dark hair and green eyes. He belongs to a cultivar of the Christian religion and is a minister. He is also involved with an organization that shelters the homeless (many of whom are repatriated). English invites Dave and Karkat to speak at his church and to dinner at his home afterward.  Security is minimal, and unobtrusive.

At the church, Karkat ends up mostly talking about his books in a mix of Alternian, English and a little Spanish. He also talks a little bit about how Dave came to be living with him. (Dave interjects with comments about the books and the classes he’d been taking before the book tour that had led to the cultural exchange mission.) The dinner is more of the same, with some political discussion mixed in. Jake asks a lot of questions about the mission, offers advice and the names of people Karkat might want to contact. “One of them is my cousin Jade Harley,” he says. “She’s a minister too! I think she’ll especially want to speak to you, though she mentioned there might be legal difficulties.”

Karkat thinks about that for a second. “Your cousin is a Preceptor of the Signless Cult?” he asks in Alternian. “How did that happen?”

“Jade was raised by her Grampa a mechanic owned by the Chief Engineer of our AGRI-Station,” Jake says. “Though when I say raised by her Grandfather, she was mostly being raised by the Chief Engineer’s lusus and taught within the Signless Cult by the Chief. When the repatriations began, the Chief sent Jade along with our family. Gram English wasn’t happy that Jade was raised Signlessist, but the Signless Cult was at least respectable by her lights, so it wasn’t hard at all to let Jade go her own way, especially since an argument between Gram English and Jade would’ve been a battle between the unstoppable force and immovable object for certain.”

Jake smiled. “We had one hell of a time with the lusus though! The silly beast wouldn’t be parted from Jade, and we had to jump through all sorts of hoops to take Beck with us. The Chief was no help at all, ‘Dad adores her, and she needs someone to keep her out of trouble. ’”  

“The lusus was allowed accompany your cousin?” Karkat asks.

“I think we ended up being one of the precedents for dealing with lusii that’ve bonded with a human,” Jake says. “I don’t think it could be the same as the relationship between a Troll and their lusus, but Jade and Beck certainly seem like two peas in a pod!”

“Huh,” Karkat said. “What kinds of lusii usually bond with humans?” He asks curiously.

“Oh, usually the small to mid-sized pseudo-mammals,” Jake says.  “I’ve met a few people with avians of one type or another though. Generally the smaller ones.” He laughs. “That’s a bit of a tangent. Jade was able to get a scholarship to study comparative religions, met up with other Signlessists and became a bit of a globe trotter. I think she wants to get in touch with you, but there are legal reasons why she might not be able to?”

“I’m banned from speaking about the Signlessist Cult, or about the Signless,” Karkat says. “Not from speaking to individual or groups of Signlessists, as long as I don’t speak about the Cult. I’m, I guess you could say I’m ‘abdicated’ from any responsibilities associated with my alleged Ancestor.”

“Like Jesus’ Second Coming being building ships,” Dave says in English. He pronounces “Jesus” as almost “Zhaysh,” and there’s a lot of dropped consonants and broadened vowels. (John refers to Dave’s accent as “half Tex, kinda Mex and a lot of Alternian phonemes.”)

Karkat is a little bit worried that Dave might have committed blasphemy of some kind, but Jake laughs. “Well, He was a working man as much as a teacher,” Jake says. “If He wants to work in a shipyard, who would tell Him no? Your situation about your ‘alleged Ancestor’ seems to be a little different though, Mister Vantas. How did the legal restriction come about? Or is talking about it restricted?”

“No, that part isn’t restricted,” Karkat says. “The seeds started around the time my moirail and I went to confront the previous Grand Highblood.” Who had had a completely unexpected reaction to their presence in his throne room: instead of a confrontation followed by a battle, the Grand Highblood had immediately declared his support for the Heiress. (After laughing so hard he’d been barely able to stay on his throne.)

He talked about living with the Church of the Two Messiahs while Gamzee was being trained for his position. He talked about the debates and conversations between the previous Grand Highblood and the new Empress, and about the negotiation that had led to Karkat’s abdication. “They worked out the restrictions, and I made a speech that was mostly about rejecting the destinies other people made for you, and not being tied to completing the mission or purpose of your Ancestors, which had its own problems that the Empress had to make a series of sermons about later. It was recorded and broadcast, and for a while there was trouble from splinter groups, but eventually things calmed down, mostly because the Signless Cult wasn’t forbidden anymore.”

“See?” Dave asks Jake. “I’m right, aren’t I?”  

“No,” Karkat says, and Dave smirks.

Jake English snorts. “If Christ came and wanted a working vacation instead of the Last Trump, I’m sure no one would complain about it. Though I doubt He’d need to go through all that rigmarole to achieve it!”

They talk some more, Karkat making a tentative agreement to contact some of the people on the list (including the cousin) and then they head back to the ship. Dave gets buried in his bubblr mailbox for most of the night and Karkat ends up in a discussion with Egbert and Lalonde about the visit the next evening for “sociological research purposes.”

(Karkat makes an elaborate point that no one tried to buy Dave from him at the church or at the dinner. Dave: “Master, stop going black for your translator.”  Rose: “Since I’m already auspistizing for Dave and John, I don’t want to break my club.” Karkat: “I’m not flirting. I’m just pointing out the shocking lack of offers to take Dave off my hands.” John: “No one is flirting with anyone! Shut up Dave!” Dave: “Hahahahah. You’re not my master. I do what I want.” Karkat: “Dave stop going black for my translator.” John: “Argh!”)

Overall, the trip in the Leones system is successful, and the mission moves on.

==>

<==