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HMSTCK

Alternia

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a part of HMSTCK, by Daxion.

Welcome to Alternia, the home planet of the trolls.

RolePlayGateway holds sovereignty over Alternia, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

395 readers have been here.

Copyright: The creator of this roleplay has attributed some or all of its content to the following sources:

http://www.mspaintadventures.com/?s=6

Setting

This is where you can point events that occur on Alternia or anything from the point of view of a troll or troll OC.
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Alternia

Welcome to Alternia, the home planet of the trolls.

Minimap

Alternia is a part of Homestuck.

1 Characters Here

Zuriik Taroql [15] Heir of Doom, slayronicJustiscythe.

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Setting

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Character Portrait: Zuriik Taroql
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#, as written by Daxion
The sun was rising on the planet of Alternia. To most trolls, this signified the end of the day, the time to get the hell inside whatever residence you called home and stay there until the sun completed its cycle and set again. However, in a cave in a hill nearby a town, there was one who prepared to go outside. He was ZURIIK TAROQL and he was, at present moment, tinkering with his scythe. The scythe was custom made, a steel rod with a long blade welded to the end of it. It was the most durable, albeit the least powerful, of Zuriik’s scythes and the one he went for first in a time when he needed a non-specific weapon. The blade was marked with a red α, the greek character alpha, signifying Zuriik’s preference of the weapon. Zuriik finished his tinkering and Alpha was returned to his Strife Specibus. He turned, surveying his cave and giving the audience a good view of both him and his home. Zuriik is tall and quite skinny, but a little bit muscular, giving off the air of a true survivor. His skin is grey, though a slightly darker grey than most trolls. He has horns resembling the horns of a chinese dragon, poking slightly out of his unkempt mess of black hair. His shirt is grey, not the classic black, and is emblazoned with the symbol of a yin-yang. As for the cave, it is very neatly kept, with a small workshop at one end and a yoga mat at the other. There is a very worn looking laptop positioned at the edge of the mat. The entrance to the cave is a tunnel, leading outward toward the steadily brightening outdoors. A white hoodie is hung at the beginning of the tunnel. The computer beeps, making Zuriik aware of the troll attempting to contact him. Zuriik crosses the room, already aware of whom it is that is trolling him.

alienationSanctified [AS] began trolling slayronicJustiscythe [SJ]

AS: Dude, I no your their. Come on man, answer me.
SJ: “qnq3”, l3av3 w3 alou3. i’w apont to go ontsiq3.
AS: Ha, I new it!. You haven’t left yet!.
SJ: qu4.
AS: Come again?.
SJ: [Duh.]
AS: Oh.
AS: Anyway...
AS: Wear doo you live?.

SJ: t4at’s rat43r b3rsoual, qou’t yon t4iuk?
AS: Bro, I’ve got this rad knew game that I think you’ll like.
SJ: m4at’s it calleq?
AS: Sgrub. I stole it from Sollux a couple days ago.
SJ: Sollux?
AS: Oh, you don’t no him. He’s this guy. I asked him too help me code a thing to help me find aliens and stuff. I stole the game while he was working on it. The thing, knot the game.
SJ: t4at sonqs rat43r...iworal.
AS: Don’t worry about it!. He had like, 20 copies!. He’ll be fine.
AS: So, interested?.
SJ: snre3, fiue. yon kuom t43 Screaming Hills?
AS: I no off them.
SJ: t4ats m4ar3 i liv3.
AS: You live next too the Screaming Hills?.
SJ: uo, i liv3 iu t43 Screaming Hills.
AS: You live in the Screaming Hills!?.
SJ: y3s. iu a cav3.
AS: Alright man, I’ll stop bye tooknight and drop it off. I can’t stay, I’ve got an important thing to do. You no, stuff.
SJ: yon t4iuk yon cau fiuq it wit4ont wy 43lb.
AS: 43lb?.
SJ: [Help.]
AS: Oh. And yes.
SJ: alrig4t t43u. s33 yo3 touig4t.
AS: So...how’s life?.
SJ: cau’t talk, THE PAIN is r3tnruing.
AS: Yikes, good luck.
SJ: t4auks.

slayronicJustiscythe [SJ] ceased trolling alienationSanctified [AS]

Just in time too. Already, Zuriik could feel the tingling that marked the beginning of The Pain. He closed his computer and sat cross-legged on his mat as the tingling turning into itching, then prickling. Finally, the feeling dissolved into pure, searing hot pain. Zuriik’s body tensed and froze as he threw his head back and screamed in agony. The scream echoed around the cave, rebounding through the tunnel and out into the town below. This scream, coming at least once a day or night, is what gave the hills their name, the Screaming Hills. Back to Zuriik, the visions began to appear. As always happened when The Pain was occurring, the visions would also occur. Zuriik stopped concentrating on the pain and began focusing on the vision, keeping his eyes out for a green figure or the tell-tale tail. At first, there was neither, it was only him, speaking to some of the others, the crab, the strong one and the blind one, to name a few. The words were like dream words, he knew they were there, but did not understand them. The visions themselves were blurry and hazy, he could only make out shapes and feelings, not details. Zuriik was about to tune out the visions and focus on some of his pain management techniques, when his vision-self was tackled from behind by a fast moving blur. His vision-self rolled over to see the attacker. It was the cat-troll, as beautiful as the first time he saw her. Zuriik felt a pleasant warmth radiating from his insides, seeing her made the pain almost bearable. He smiled through his suffering, the screams diminishing as The Pain did. Zuriik collapsed, The Pain leaving him yet again, taking the visions with it. The face of the cat-troll faded from his mind, Zuriik collapsed onto the hard stone floor of the cave. His throat ached from screaming, his muscles burned with the repercussions of the tension and his head ached from some unknown secondary effect of The Pain. Despite this, Zuriik was happy. Without something to hold onto, some sort of happiness to make the days bearable, The Pain would surely have caused Zuriik to end his life. The cat-troll was his hope. Assuming the visions were of the future, which seemed likely as some of his visions had already come true, that meant that one day, the two of them would meet. This was the only thing that kept Zuriik going, besides his insatiable hunger for justice. Zuriik stood after a minute and hobbled over to two badly drawn pictures on the wall. One was of the green demon and the other of the cat-troll. Zuriik pulled a piece of green chalk out of a can of chalk and made a mark under the cat-troll’s picture. That made 203 vision sightings of her. He looked at the picture of the green demon, more specifically, the marks beneath the picture. 64 green marks and a single red mark. He stared at it for a long time. Finally, Zuriik grabbed his hoodie, zipping it up and throwing the hood over his horns, and absconded from his home. It was time to hunt again.

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#, as written by Daxion

Setting

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Character Portrait: Danavel Maujī Character Portrait: Zuriik Taroql
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Some idiotic seadweller thought that he could get away with almost killing his lusus. This blasphemous troll thought he could go against the powerful highblood. He turned to the seadweller "What are up and doing brother?" The seadweller was cocky and responded with "Killing you pitiful landdwellers." This sparked Danavel's rage "Repeat what you said brother, I thought you said something blashphemous." He was mad and was deciding to either damage this troll's pride or kill him. It was up to the troll which happened, but Danavel wasn't going to hold back if the troll replied cockily. The troll replied cockily "You disgust me, how dare you talk to your superior like this." A slight smile spread across the Subjugglator's face and he was getting a weapon out of his wildcard strife specibus "Brother this is going to hurt, but your blood will be a beautiful addition to my wall. " He said this calmly which only aded to the fear the seadweller was about to experience. The seadweller was visibly shaken and he replied with a nervous voice "You wouldn't d-d-dare d-d-disrespect the hierarchy." Danavel laughed at this remark and pointed towards his wall "Really? Haven't you seen my wall full of the bloods of my murders? Let me prove what I can do to you weakling." His specibus picked out the weapon of ancestor, a set of juggling clubs with spikes on it, he held them and was mad that he would use such great weapons on such an unworthy opponent. "You better feel privileged brother, you get to be killed by the clubs of the Grand Highblood. I feel bad for using such good weapons on you, but miracles work in mysterious ways." He started his murder by jumping directly into the fight and closing the gap between them quickly, and the seadweller's death would be just as quick. He broke off the seadweller's horns and kept them, since he was deciding to be merciful today. "Go away you pitiful grub, but do not come back or your fate will be much worst then this." The seadweller's horns were shaped like a serrated knife, since this technically counted as a weapon he stored it and stored his ancestor's clubs as well in his strife specibus. Too bad he didn't get new paint for his glorious wall full of paintings depicting many things. He decided to go back inside his hive and check out the disc he found on the body of a rust blooded troll, it seemed he was thrown out of a place by someone who could use Telekinesis. He knew that this troll was probably a thief and was killed without the killer knowing he killed this person, but who cared now. The killer wouldn't dare come and look for Danavel, unless they were a psychopathic highblood like him. His latest painting depicted a green monster that had a skull where it's face should be, but he had no real base to this painting besides his imagination. He wasn't all high and mighty due to his blood, instead he detested those who acted like that and broke their pride by taking their horns as trophies. He had many friends who relied on him for manpower, and he felt happy to help them if it meant them surviving. He decided to troll Zuriik one of the trolls who he knew, but Zuriik did not know that Danavel was a Subjugglator. Zuriik never bothered to ask if he was a Subjugglator, so he never answered. He just recently began to type in his blood color like many trolls did.
dementedManic [DM] began trolling slayronicJustiscythe [SJ]
DM: Hey brother, some se4dweller dec1ded to try 4nd k1ll my lusus
DM: So 1 dec1ded to t4ke h1s horns 4w4y, s1nce 1t w1ll te4ch th1s bl4sphemous fool to not 4ct so cocky tow4rds me.
DM: Oh 4nd 1 4ll up 1n figured out how to ch4nge my text to m4tch my blood color
DM: 4m4z1ng 1sn't 1t? 1 just f1gured out th4t you could do th1s
DM: 1 found 4 d1sc l4bled Sgrub on 4 de4d troll, you wouldn't h4ppen to h4ve a copy of th1s or someth1ng l1ke th4t would you?
DM: 1f you do, do you w4nt to pl4y w1th me?
DM: Th1s d1sc c4me w1th 4n 1nstruct1on m4nu4l for pl4y1ng 1t.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Danavel Maujī Character Portrait: Zuriik Taroql
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#, as written by Daxion
Zuriik stole through the day, custom goggles protecting his eyes from the harmful rays of the sun. He moved silently through the relatively thick underbrush. After 10 or so minutes of downhill movement, he reached the town. Sliding past most of the houses, he finally reached the one he had in mind. It belonged to some rich, spoiled brat who threw away some of the best technology, barely broken. Of course, Zuriik would rather steal from her than any other troll in the entirety of Alternia. He snuck around to the back of the house, opening the trash can positioned by the back door. He dug through the food bits and such until he reached the plastic garbage bag that the troll always discarded her electronics in. He opened the bag and sifted through it.
“No, no, no, no...what’s this?”
At the bottom of the bag lay the not-so-golden treasure. A PDA, barely used, probably discarded for some newer model. Zuriik pocketed the find and put everything back where he found it, preparing to leave. A sound reached his ears that caused him to halt in his tracks. The sound of laughter, a child’s laughter. His curiosity got the better of him and Zuriik climbed up the side of the house until he reached a window, forgottenly ajar. Inside he saw a troll, playing with her lusus, a large dog. The two roughhoused and rolled over each other, clearing enjoying themselves. The small troll yawned, and the game was finished. The lusus picked her up and carried her away, to her recuperacoon no doubt. Zuriik was swamped by jealousy. He wanted nothing more than to rush in, kill the girl’s lusus and burn her house and all her belongings to the ground while she watched. Then lean down and tell her “You feel that pain? That’s what I feel every day of my life. Except, you’ll heal from your pain. You’ll get over it. But I can’t. I won’t. Not ever.” Zuriik wouldn’t do that though. For many reasons, the most compelling of which was his unquenchable thirst for justice. Doing such an act would serve no purpose and wouldn’t be...fair. Nor just. Zuriik descended and made his way back to his cave.

Zuriik awoke to the beeping of his computer. He had fallen asleep at his workshop again, plagued by his inner demons while he slumbered. Without a recuperacoon or an ounce of sopor slime, Zuriik’s dreams were never good, he avoided sleeping when he could. Zuriik stared at the creation, newly finished on his workshop counter. During the day, he had successfully hooked up his new PDA to his sun protection goggles. He could now communicate if he was out of his home and could not reach his laptop. Speaking of his laptop...Zuriik walked over to the machine, still making its infernal beeping noise. He laid down on the mat and opened the computer. Oh god, it was him again.

dementedManic [DM] began trolling slayronicJustiscythe [SJ]

DM: Hey brother, some se4dweller dec1ded to try 4nd k1ll my lusus
DM: So 1 dec1ded to t4ke h1s horns 4w4y, s1nce 1t w1ll te4ch th1s bl4sphemous fool to not 4ct so cocky tow4rds me.
DM: Oh 4nd 1 4ll up 1n figured out how to ch4nge my text to m4tch my blood color
DM: 4m4z1ng 1sn't 1t? 1 just f1gured out th4t you could do th1s
DM: 1 found 4 d1sc l4bled Sgrub on 4 de4d troll, you wouldn't h4ppen to h4ve a copy of th1s or someth1ng l1ke th4t would you?
DM: 1f you do, do you w4nt to pl4y w1th me?
DM: Th1s d1sc c4me w1th 4n 1nstruct1on m4nu4l for pl4y1ng 1t.


Zuriik sighed deeply, needless to say, he loathed talking to DM. Quickly comprising a short thought to let DM know how he felt at present time and his current situation, Zuriik typed, hit enter and closed his computer again.

SJ: i 7nst mok3 nb, thuk’s for t4at py t43 may. i’w g33tiug a cobt of t43 gaw3 soou, 4obe me’re uot iu t43 saw3 s33siou, qou’t yon qar3 talk to AS apont t4is, s33 yon n3v3r yon IUSATIAPL3 FNCKIUG BSYCOBAT4!

slayronicJustiscythe [SJ] ceased trolling dementedManic [DM]

Zuriik immediately regretted typing in the line about alienationSanctified, that would probably come back to bite him in the butt later. However, there would be plenty of time to worry about that later, THE PAIN was coming again. Zuriik braced himself and the hills became alive yet again with the sound of screaming.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Danavel Maujī
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"Heh psychopath, that word carries no meaning in this world. " Danavel didn't feel angered that people thought this of him, instead he felt confused as to why a troll would loathe speaking to a troll who killed his enemies. "Is killing wrong? No, it can't possibly be wrong, since my lusus is always right. " He was confused, being taught that killing is nothing more then a natural process makes it seem as thought what you do isn't wrong. "No, I can't be thinking these blasphemous thoughts anymore. I only kill to survive." He decided to run the disc and see what would happen when he installed it. "Crap." His computer's screen went black, since the thing was probably a virus. He decided to go outside and read the manual that came with the game, but this was strange. It was written in a blood similar to Danavel's blood, but Danavel didn't know that he could travel through time and set up this finding of the manual, yet. He thought it was just a troll who had the same hue of purple as him, but it still bothered him a bit. He began trolling one of the trolls he knew, of course he was using his PDA. His computer's screen was black now.
dementedManic [DM] began trolling whimsicalAlien [WA]
DM: Hey how 4re you do1ng?
WA: I'm DoinG JusT FinE, ThanK YoU FoR AskinG.
DM: I h4ve 4 quest1on for you, you wouldn't h4ppen to h4ve 4 g4me l4bled Sgrub?
WA: YaH I do, AS GavE it to me.
WA: I Don'T ReallY FeeL SafE PlayinG WitH HiM, I NeeD SomeonE WhO CaN KilL ThE ImpS.
DM: Wh4t's 4n 1mp?
WA: I'm GettinG AheaD of MyselF, JusT InstalL ThE GamE AnD I'lL EstablisH a ConnectioN WitH YoU.
DM: My computer's screen went bl4ck, when 1 1nst4lled the d1sc.
WA: It ShoulD be FinE NoW, JusT go AnD ChecK up on it.

Danavel went and checked his computer, of course exactly what the blue blooded troll said would happen somehow happened.

DM: Wo4h how d1d you know that it was f1xed?
WA: It WaS NeveR BrokeN, it WaS JusT InstallinG Sgrub.
DM: Hold up, 1 h4ve to do someth1ng re4l qu1ck.
WA: I'lL WaiT, BuT Don'T ExpecT me to WaiT ToO LonG.
WA: AS AnD I StilL HavE to FigurE OuT HoW ManY TrollS WilL be JoininG us on PlayinG ThiS GamE.

dementedManic [DM] has ceased trolling whimsicalAlien [AS]

'Tick Tock' The noise was coming back and this time it was louder then before. He just pushed out the ticking from his head, it was probably him scaring himself with his own Chucklevoodo, but the damn ticking followed him everywhere he went. He was right, it was just his chucklevoodo making his signature noise that later on would warn the imps on the worlds of his session. He would probably go insane without the ticking, since it became a noise that was always there. The ticking calmed him and didn't make him go complete psychopath like his ancestor was. Eventually the ticking will stop, but by the time that happens he will have a Moirail, at least that's what most trolls hope. They're is many possibilities for his kismesis quadrant, but he doesn't necessarily hate anyone that hates him. He doesn't feel pale or flushed towards any troll, and to be honest he doesn't really understand the way relationships work. He will eventually grow up and figure out how to manage his relationships, but for now he's completely confused. He decided to just sit down and think about what to do next, so much time was on his hands that he had no idea what to do with it.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Zuriik Taroql
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#, as written by Daxion
As the flash of light faded away, Zuriik took his hands away from his eyes to examine the recently prototyped sprite.

AS: I’m sorry, what?.
SJ: t4at 7nst 4abb3u3q.
AS: I’m sorry. What?!.
SJ: t4at m4asu’t snbbos3q to 4abb3n.
AS: I’M SORRY, WHAT!!!!!!??????........
AS: What did you prototype!?

SJ: i t4iuk. i t4iuk it mas a lov3 l3tt3r.
AS: To who?
SJ: i’ll giv3 yon t4r33 fnckiug gn3ss3s.
AS: Cat-troll, Cat-troll or justice.
SJ: yon m3r3 rig4t t43 first tmo tiw3s.
AS: So, what happened too your inventory?
SJ: it p3caw3 npalauc3q, so it 373ct3q. it’s t43 t3rripl3 bric3 i bay for couv3ui3ut storag3.
SJ: look, iv’3 got to go. i’v3 only got anot43r 23 wiunt3s p3for3 i get 4it py a giaut fnckuig w3t3or. conlq yon prob t43 t4iug?

AS: Sure man. Later mofo.
slayronicJustisythe [SJ] ceased trolling alienationSanctified [AS]

Zuriik switched off his goggles as a pre-punctured card appeared in front of him. Despite the holes in the card, Zuriik could make out the picture of a troll in an over complicated and painful looking yoga pose. Fan-tucking-fastic. Hold up. It appeared that Zuriik’s sprite friend was trying to communicate with him. What was it buddy?

[Spritelog]:
ZURIIK: m4at’s nb?
HEARTSPRITE: ♥ ❤ ❥ ❣ ❦ ❧ ♡ ღ♥ ❤ ❥ ❣ ❦ ❧ ♡ ღ♥ ❤ ❥ ❣ ❦ ❧ ♡ ღ♥ ❤ ❥ ❣ ❦ ❧ ♡ ღ
ZURIIK: o......k.

Oh well. It probably didn’t have any good advice anyway. Besides, what information could a giant floating heart contain? Zuriik had work to do.


Well, this sucked. After checking in with WA and dropping him a pre-punched card of his own, Zuriik got to saving his own hide by way of over complicated troll yoga. Also known as the most complicated method of bullshit ever. Who invented this? What was the intended purpose? And why is Zuriik trying to push and pull his foot over his horns? All questions without answers. Except for that last one. Zuriik sits on his mat, attempting to copy the pose on the newly Alchemized yoga booklet, as the clock ticks down the final minute.

“Why couldn’t my salvation come in a more-ergg-convenient form. This is. Goddamn. Bullshit.”

“You’re not helping.”

The doomsday counter fell into its last few seconds. The Heartpsrite nudges Zuriik’s foot over his head in a final gesture of protection. Well, not really final. It saves both their lives and teleports a good portion of the Screaming Hills into the Medium and away from the giant incoming meteors.


The stage is set. Courthouses dot the purple ground under a bright orange sky. Imps holding heart shaped boxes of candy run rampant across the relatively flat landscape. This is the Land of Justice and Hypocrisy, the Medium and a mountain just landed in it. From the mountain emerged a quite shaken up Zuriik and Heartsprite. The pair descended and, upon reaching the bottom, took a moment to admire their surroundings. A crowd of imps gathered around them, keeping their distance. A lone imp approached Zuriik, ripped a heart out of its chest and held it out, offering it to him. The troll stood quite still for a moment, then burst out laughing. He took the organ from the imp and presented the small creature with a rubber mallet from his inventory. The imp studied the object in curiosity, before striking it against another of its species in playful antagonism. The mallet bounced off the imp’s skull and flew through the air prototyping itself against the Heartspite, turning it into a Heartgavel Sprite. The imps, now in a bar fight-esque brawl as a result of the escalated accidental violence, soon all acquired hammers of different shapes and sizes. They looked at their hammers, looked at Zuriik, and attacked.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Danavel Maujī
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It turns out that Danavel's future self that was making sure that the timeline followed completely was from a doomed timeline, so he was dooming himself and saving Danavel from doom. Too bad his doomed timeline self is busy keeping this timeline safe. He had his machines deployed and he had already read that manual that came with his disc, but he had no idea why the manual was here and he honestly didn't wish to know. He thought this game would be a MMO that would be in 3d, since he thought that the manual was written in the view of a citizen of the game. It creeped him out that the manual had personal information like the stuff that he painted, but he ignored this fact and remembered all the stuff in the manual that wasn't stained with ink. He didn't know why someone would purposely take out spots of the manual, since it was meant to help him. His doomed timeline self knew that if Danavel read this it would probably cause a paradox, so he marked over the spots that contained text that could rip apart the very fabric of the universes. Danavel fell asleep before he could finish the last part of the manual that would warn Danavel to the imminent threat of the meteors coming to Alternia. If he was any other class besides the class he is right now, he would be a bard considering he would help the enemies in a blind rage. He was a Derse dreamer, but he wouldn't be afraid of the horrorterrors. The horrorterrors would be afraid of him, considering he could break their minds and his mind was already fragmented. Rage would have been a better aspect for him, but time would help him mature more and prove a harder challenge. He awoke on Derse again, this wasn't his first time being on Derse and he had traveled around both planets seeing the trolls in the towers before so he knew where all the trolls should be. He jumped out of his tower expecting to instantly fly, but this time he fell straight down. He braced himself for impact, but he hovered with his face an inch above the ground. He sighed in relief and saw the cat-troll he had spoken to before, then he waved to the friendly troll. He would occasionally role-play with this troll, but he wasn't very good at roleplaying while the cat-troll seemed to be good at it. Before he could approach the troll, he heard the whispers of the horrorterrors. They whispered something about a the heir of time being as dangerous as the bard of rage, but Danavel simply ignored these whispers and blew them off as ramblings. He flew up higher and motioned to the cat-troll that he couldn't role-play at the moment, considering he was about to play a game on Alternia that would be fun and cause the deaths of many trolls. When he flew high enough, the black figures started screaming something. "T.. ..ir of ti.. ha. .w..en!" He couldn't decipher what they were saying from high up, so he flew closer and began being able to understand what they were saying better. "Th. H.ir of tim. has aw.ken!" He couldn't make out what they were saying yet, so he got even closer and he could finally figure out what they were saying. "The Heir of Time has awaken!" He didn't know what that meant, but he kept that phrase in mind. "Wait wasn't there something about roles and aspects in the manual?" He thought out loud when he said this, but it wouldn't really make a difference if he said it or thought it. He flew down next to a black figure who seemed to be a writer of the Dersian news, then he asked what an Heir of Time was. "What's an Heir of Time?" He hoped the black figure could respond, but as he studied the figure he noticed that the figure was a female. "I'm just a reporter, so I wouldn't know much about you heroes or what your role would be. But from what I know from reading, is that you are supposed to be the players who end a war between Derse and Prospit." The reporter was speaking honestly. "I'm guessing Derse and Prospit are the two planets here, right?" Danavel was slowly putting together the pieces of the puzzle, but he needed more information before he could get the full picture. "Yes, you're right, anyways I would recommend getting back to your tower where it's safe." The reporter knew that occasionally the queen would issue orders to arrest the heroes if they even thought of breaking a law. Danavel noticed something that he didn't before, the figures had a heart somewhere on their appearance and were carrying hammers of different sizes. He thought this was just a fashion trend and he thought it would do the figures good to change from the black suits into more varied attire. He returned to his tower and sat on his bed, thinking about what to do for the time he was asleep. He didn't have a chance to do anything on Derse though, because he woke up in the normal world quickly and he noticed the time.

It was almost time for the reckoning, but he wouldn't know that the meteors mentioned in the book were actually going to destroy Alternia. WA placed down a cruxtruder and dropped Danavel's books onto it, effectively releasing the sprite. He threw a weapon from his Wildcard Specibus, a rifle that took a bit of time to reload, this would give the imps an effective but slow weapon to fight the trolls with. The sprite was now a rifle that shot bullets each time it tried to converse, this angered Danavel.
[Spritelog]
RIFLESPRITE:〽♛♚♕♟♞♝♜♘♗♔♕♟
DANAVEL: Stop shoot1ng everyth1ng or 1 w1ll person4lly r1p you 4p4rt, you obnox1ous ghost-looking thing.
RIFLESPRITE:♟♕♚〽♞♝♜♘
DANAVEL: Screw th1s 1 prob4bly wont even be 4ble to hurt your ghostly body.

He wasn't going to waste his time speaking to a gun, which only shot at everything in his home. He decided to try and throw something else at it, maybe that would make it go away. He picked up his second laptop and threw it at the Riflesprite, hoping it would get shocked or something like that. It at least stopped the thing from speaking nonsense, but it did make the imps even more powerful than they were with rifles. Now they could compute and annoy him on Trollian, he would regret prototyping these two things when fighting the black king and queen. He got the thing called a pre-punched card and worked magic, he made the cruxite dowel and carved it. He then put it in the Alchemiter and made a clock, he was confused as to what to with the clock. His sprite was trying to get his attention and warn him about the timer on Cruxtruder, but he ignored the ComputergunSprite. He did however see the time on the Cruxtruder and decided to match up the time on the clock with it, and when he did he entered The Medium and The Land of Clockwork and Frogs, somehow chunks of land were not affected by gravity and there seemed to be no citizens in this land. Not including the heart and hammer imps, rifle and Computer imps, and the floating frogs. His server player deployed the Punch Designix and Danavel immediately noticed that the pre-punched card he had earlier had a code on it. He got out the notebook that he wrote codes in, he felt happy that he didn't waste his time writing down the codes of objects in his notebook. He combined two weapon cards in his Strife Specibus, the Grand Highblood's juggling clubs and a whip. He got a set of juggling clubs that were connected to a retractable whip. He was enjoying combining cards and seeing what would come out, what he did next was combine his laptop and a gauntlet. This glove could allow him to type on it with a keyboard that was on it and it had a screen with a scroll wheel to see what he was typing, sadly this gauntlet had a little viewing area and it was time consuming to scroll through his Trollian chat log. He had an idea, he made a little clay statue of what he thought a holographic projector would look like. He then combined the compauntlet with a captchalogged statue of the holographic projector. He combined the gauntlet and the holographic projector, getting the Holo-Compuantlet. This projected a hologram of a computer screen, so he had more viewing area and it also projected a keyboard that would allow more convenient usage. Too bad he couldn't alchemize the card without getting Grist, so he quickly flipped through the manual and saw the page labeled Grist. Apparently Grist was gained through killing enemies, raiding tombs or doing quests. He kept the punched card that would make the Holo-Compuantlet in the pocket of his jacket and then he went outside and saw Imps and floating frogs. The imps immediately went and tried to attack Danavel, but this only angered Danavel and made him show his murderous and psychotic side. He pulled out his ancestor's clubs and began committing a genocide of imps, collecting a lot of grist which would later be given to the trolls in his session who would join the memo he would create later. The Grist would be given to his friends by him given them a program called GristTorrent, he had the program on his laptop for as long as he could remember. But he could never delete it and decided to just leave it there, since it didn't do anything strange to his laptop.

The only way he would stop killing imps is if he had one of his friends message him to ask him how far in the game he was, or if they wished to try and get to the same place as him. For now though, he was committing a mass murder of imps, that would later be called The Vengance of The Dead Citizens of LOCAF. The Heir of Time was known to be the killer a lot of imps in the time he would be on the lands of the heroes of this session. Considering time was his aspect, he would have quite a bit of time to kill imps on his planet.

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Character Portrait: Zuriik Taroql
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#, as written by Daxion
Zuriik stood in front of the burning courthouse, admiring his handy work. He turned to the small cat creature, likely the consort for LOJAH, that had been his defense lawyer, who was now shivering in fear. Zuriik bent down and patted it on the head before turning away and walking in the direction he hoped that his second gate was in. Of course, it was a surprise when the imps, instead of attacking him, put him on trial, suing him for “disturbing the peace”. He should have guessed though, with all the courthouses about. The courtroom scenario actually worked in Zuriik’s favor though, as he was able to find the loopholes in the prosecution’s accusations, despite his defense lawyer being, well, a kitten. That is, until they brought out the replacement prosecution lawyer, a basilisk. Within a split second, Zuriik went from calmly victorious to flipping his shit. Zuriik hates snakes, he fucking loathes them. He slaughtered the imps and serpent and burnt the courtroom to the ground. Oh well, the court system was bullshit anyway. Zuriik felt a small tug on his leg. He looked down at the cat creature, who pointed at the opposite direction. “Alright then, you lead the way.” The kitten bounded off, with Zuriik close behind. Soon, the two were at Zuriik’s hive, the mountain. Zuriik stopped in his tracks, the tingling was back, a reminder of The Pain to come. He sat down, shuddering slightly, and then The Pain arrived as did Zuriik’s visions. Instead of the dream-like experiences, he instead saw first a code: “3scab3F3AR”. As soon as he registered it, the scene changed. He saw the orb-like realm of Skaia, calm and quiet. Then, quite suddenly, it cracked, then ripped in two. A figure stood off to the side, large, intimidating and green. The demon. He smiled as the Battlefield inverted, forming a black hole which sucked in Prospit, Derse and the four player planets. Zuriik then saw the whole thing from his perspective as LOJAH was hurled toward the gaping maw. He was pulled of the surface of his planet, sent flying through the sky toward the empty void. Zuriik felt his body being ripped to shreds by the force of the planet killer. He was shoved back into full consciousness by this, quickly standing on shaking legs. Zuriik threw himself forward, hiking up the steep incline, his feline friend following him. He reached the top within minutes, pushing himself to his Totem Lathe. Zuriik went through the processes of item synthesis quickly, typing in the code he had just recently received. An enormous amount of grist and a short time later, Zuriik held a scythe in his hands. It was red and black, with portions left open to reveal gears turning and adjusting. Clockwork was complete, Zuriik’s new endgame weapon. He gave a quick slice, to test out the recently synthesized item. Clockwork not only felt balanced, it ripped a hole in space and time. Zuriik took a surprised step back, suddenly viewing the outside of his cave through the gaping maw that stood in front of him. He stepped through the hole, ending up standing at the base of the relocated Screaming Hills. Zuriik looked down at his new toy, grinning with exhilaration.

slayronicJustisythe [SJ] began trolling everyone
[SJ]: 43y gnys, g3t yonr s4it tog3t43r.
[SJ]: t43 w4ol3 fnckiug nuiv3rs3 is cowiug qomu ou onr 43ads pnt i’ve got a syt43 t4at says ot43rmis3. i’w cowiug to g3t yon.

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Character Portrait: Danavel Maujī Character Portrait: Zuriik Taroql
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Danavel was tired, since he had killed a lot of imps and the imps would not stop respawning. Eventually the imps learned that they needed to wait for the other players to enter and prototype, before they tried to kill the Heir Of Time. He had gotten quite used to jumping from chunks of land, so it wasn't a problem for him to travel. He was letting all his rage loose on the poor imps, so he had quite a bit of grist to waste on making random things. This was stupid, but no one would dare tell Danavel this and he would not stop making random things. He alchemized the compuantlet and Grand highblood whip clubs, since they would be pretty useful. He tried hitting an imp that demanded that he be brought to LOJAH for a trial to take place, but Danavel wouldn't bother listening to the imp and he instead bludgeoned it on the head. He was bored and he tried typing in a random code. "T1ck Tock", but the grist needed to make the object was too much and Danavel was sure he would never reach the amount necessary to alchemize the object. He captchalouged the machines necessary for alchemy, since he might need them again. He used the whip clubs to climb his now ridiculously high gate and he ended up going through a couple of gates, before finally reaching the gate that led him to SJ's player world. He was confused as to what happened and he expected someone to come and attack him instantly, but he was distracted by a message on Trollian. He was contacted by slayronicJustisythe, so he answered.

slayronicJustisythe [SJ] began trolling everyone


[SJ]: 43y gnys, g3t yonr s4it tog3t43r.
[SJ]: t43 w4ol3 fnckiug nuiv3rs3 is cowing qomu ou nor h3ads pnt i've got a syt43 t4at says ot43rmis. i'w cowing to g3t yon.




dementedManic [DM]
began trolling slayronicJustisythe [SJ


[DM]: D4yum, you must've killed a cr4p ton of th1ngs to be 4ble to 4fford to 4lchemize the weapon, s1nce 1t seems to cost 4 lot to 4lchemize 4 random code 1 typed in.
[DM]: By the w4y do you h4ve 4ny 1de4 where 1 4m? 1'm in 4 g14nt c4ve.


The Heir Of Time was necessary for their session, since he would be both an asset and a hinderance. Danvel saw what appeared to be the same machines deployed in his home, so he thought that perhaps he was in the 'hive' of another troll who was in the same session as him. He wouldn't go through this troll's stuff, since he wouldn't like it if people went through his stuff. He tried taking a weapon from his strife specious, and the weapon that came out was a simple knife that he got off of a blue-blooded friend. He had no use for a knife at the moment, but he thought that he might need it later and he stored it in his strife specibus again. He wondered if the troll who lived her was here as well, since it would interesting to see what the troll would be like. He started drawing the green skulled monster he had drawn on the wall of his hive, but he couldn't color it due to not having any paint. This game was beginning to be fun, but he wanted to know how the green skulled monster would act if it was real.

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Character Portrait: Danavel Maujī Character Portrait: Zuriik Taroql
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#, as written by Daxion
Among the many courts dotting the landscape of LOJAH, one in particular stood out. The Superpreme Courthouse stood tall and proud, swarming with imps, basilisks and ogres and packed to the brim with imprisoned feline creatures. The crowning jewel of the towering fortress was a glimmering purple circle of light, the first gateway. A lookout on his perch suddenly noticed something rather odd. There was a form fast approaching the courthouse, moving in jumps rather than solid motion. By the time the underling reported this strange occurrence to his superior, Zuriik had arrived. His cat consort had leaped through the portals behind him just before they closed and the two of them were standing at the entrance of the building that they would have to fight through to reach the gateway. Zuriik pushed open the large double doors, surprising quite a few imps with his presence. They dropped their paperwork and grabbed their hammers out of, what else, hammerspace. They charge him and promptly disintegrated as Ω sliced them to ribbons. Ω was Zuriik’s strongest scythe, with the exception of Clockwork, as well as the hardest to use. Each of his 5 original scythes from α onwards were slightly more complex and powerful. β’s blade could orientate itself upward and become a lance. Δ had the same abilities as β, but can launch off its blade like a harpoon. Ψ was triple bladed, practically a trident, with same abilities as β and Δ. Ω was different, it resembled α more than anything. However, on closer inspection, it is much more complex. The staff portion of the scythe is actually many different sections. These sections could be held together or disconnected with a quick twitch of Zuriik’s hand. All of the different parts were connected by chains when pulled apart, letting Ω be used as a regular scythe, a whip or whatever else was needed. In this case, it was used to dispatch a large number of enemies, being held in Zuriik’s right hand while his left wielded the significantly weaker stated but higher abilities Clockwork.

“Meow meow meow!” his felineous companion mewed, pointing down the stairway that lead down into the catacombs.

“Honestly, I appreciate the thought...uh...Whiskers,” Zuriik shouted over his shoulder, quickly coming up with a name for the creature, “but I’m kind of in the middle of fighting a small army right now in an attempt to get to the TOP of this gigantic whatever. I’m a little too busy to sidetrack myself with mysterious basements.” On this line, he unleashed a multi-hit combo on an ogre, destroying it.

“Meow meow meow! Meow meow meow meow!” Whiskers continued to motion toward the downward path.

“God! Fine!” Zuriik replied, teleporting to Whisker’s location. Down the stairs he saw a jail, full of cats.

“So this is what you meant.”

“Meow meow.”

“Yeah. Meow meow to you too.” He patted Whiskers on the head, he had grown rather fond of the cat.



“Oh fuck, not you again. Where were you when I was being arrested by hammered imps? Well, imps with hammers. I’m not entire sure how drunk they were.”



“Yeah, I get it, you love me. You love everybody.”



“Purrrrrr.”

“Shut up for a second, both of you. I’ll be back in moment.” With a quick descend, Zuriik entered the prison. After a couple minutes, he ascended again, with hundreds of consorts in tow. He ran right past the door and into another group of enemies, who were promptly slaughtered. About a quarter hour later, Zuriik reached the final floor, followed by Whiskers and Justisprite.

“Oh fucking fantastic.” An entire squad of fully equipped imps and a ogre stood between Zuriik and his destination. He swung Ω like a whip, around and around, building up momentum. He struck forward and the blade stylishly cut the entire collection down to size. With a victoriously over dramatic pose, Zuriik reconnected the scythe’s pieces and stood with his arms outstretched, offering an invitation to anyone who wanted a piece of him. However, the entire building was completely void of enemies, so the intimidation was completely unneeded.

“Mew.” The quiet sound echoed through the silence, mourning and soft. Zuriik turned and saw Whiskers, holding its stomach, which was rapidly being stained by an olive blotch.

“Oh no. Oh fuck no.” Blood, green and flowing, spread through Whisker's fur and dripped to the ground. This was why Zuriik didn’t use Ω unless the situation demanded it. Despite the power and flexibility of the scythe in battle, it required an impossible amount of dexterity and attention to surroundings to operate the weapon. As would happen sometimes, innocent bystanders were hurt because Zuriik could not control Ω. Whiskers was added to that list. Zuriik held the small feline in his arms and it died in his hands, a gash on its belly leaking its soul out into the world. Within an instant, Zuriik changed from hero to murderer.

“</3” The Justisprite floated over to the body of the late Whiskers, a crack forming in the heart-shaped phantom. The crack opened, like a mouth, and devoured the corpse right out of Zuriik’s arms. The third prototyping occurred with a flash of light.

(Spritelog):
ZURIIK: m4at t43 43ll?
WHISKERSJUSTISPRITE: =====[] me♥ow❤HI ZURIIK!❤me♥ow
ZURIIK: 4olly s4it. t4is is fautastic.
WHISKERSJUSTISPRITE: =====[] me♥ow❤ARE YOU CRYING?❤me♥ow
ZURIIK: uo. i’w uot cryiug.

Zuriik wiped the tears from his eyes in relief. Whiskers smiled back at him, holding a gavel in its left hand and a heart in its right.

=====[] me♥ow❤I LOVE YOU! LOTS AND LOTS! :3~~~❤me♥ow

“Yeah. You too.”

Zuriik stood then and wiped his hands, coated in olive-colored feline blood, off on his hoodie. He stared at the stained article of clothing. This hoodie had been Zuriik’s most valuable survival tool all these many sweeps, as it was the only thing between him and the painfully bright sun of Alternia. He was leaving that old life now, he was going to go rescue his friends. Zuriik tossed it over the side of the building.

=====[] me♥ow❤IT’S DANGEROUS TO GO THROUGH THE FIRST GATE ALONE! TAKE THIS!❤me♥ow” Whiskers tossed Zuriik a small medallion. “=====[] me♥ow❤YOU CAN USE THAT TO CONTACT ME!❤me♥ow

Zuriik nodded at the sprite and turned, walking through the gate without a second look back, arriving in the Land of Clockwork and Frogs.

“So this is DM’s player planet huh?” he said out loud to no one in particular. Pulling on his goggles to message DM, Zuriik found a message from the purple blooded troll.

[DM]: D4yum, you must've killed a cr4p ton of th1ngs to be 4ble to 4fford to 4lchemize the weapon, s1nce 1t seems to cost 4 lot to 4lchemize 4 random code 1 typed in.
[DM]: By the w4y do you h4ve 4ny 1de4 where 1 4m? 1'm in 4 g14nt c4ve.


Thankfully, the large amount of Grist that Zuriik obtained from the first courthouse and spent on Clockwork was replaced by the enormous amount of Grist he had collected from the attack on the Superpreme Courthouse. As for DM's home, guessing from the large cave in the distance, guarded by a large gun-looking sprite, that was likely where he was holed up. Using Clockwork to cut his travel time considerably, Zuriik approached the entrance to the cave. The gun sprite, noticing that he was another player, moved to the side and allowed him to pass. Zuriik stood in the entrance to the cave, staring inside at DM and the picture that he was painting.

“My name is Zuriik Taroql, or as you know me, slayronicJustiscythe. I’m here to save your ass from the impending destruction of the universe from the demon that you are currently drawing a picture of. Any questions?”

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Character Portrait: Danavel Maujī Character Portrait: Zuriik Taroql
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Danavel was finished painting the green monster and he had began painting another painting, but before he could even finish the outline. Another troll walked in, but Danavel did not know who this troll was or where the troll came form. He guessed that the troll must have been a troll in his session, since it was either that or the troll managed to kill the rifle looking sprite.

“My name is Zuriik Taroql, or as you know me, slayronicJustiscythe. I’m here to save your ass from the impending destruction of the universe from the demon that you are currently drawing a picture of. Any questions?” Danavel wad calm, due to him consuming slime. He was calm, but in his subdued state he was more dangerous. Due to him not being able to control his chucklevoodo and occasionally doing things to other trolls, but he would do these things while wearing a sopor induced smile. Sopor caused Danavel to become more violent, since the withdrawal hit him hard and caused him a lot of pain. He normally didn't eat the slime, since it was dangerous and his lusus told him the dangers of eating slime. Speaking of his lusus, his lusus was fighting imps outside of Danavel's hive and his lusus was being beat. His lusus put up a good fight, but it was outnumbered and killed. The sprite saw that Danavel's lusus was being killed, but it couldn't do anything about his lusus being killed. The sprite did the only thing it knew to do in the situation, it merged with Danavel's lusts completing the third prototyping. It would do Zuriik good to get Danavel out of there quickly and to tie up Danavel, since he would soon be going through the effects of slime withdrawal. "Sup brother, I'm feeling weird, and who's the demon you're talking about?" His makeup was off and for the first time in sweeps, a troll would see his face without clown makeup on.

His sprite lusus went into the cave. It saw that Danavel had just consumed slime and it seemed terrified, since Danavel was usually extremely violent when going through withdrawal and Danavel once killed a group of blue-blooded just because they were messing up his paintings that particular day. No one ever dared to ouch his paintings after that day, except for idiots who wanted to be culled. This withdrawal wouldn't be the cause of him messing the session up, instead something else would be the cause of that. The withdrawal would do nothing more then just make him feel intense pain and his purple-blooded urges, but those could be dangerous on their own.


--- You should really hurry up and get him out of here, since he might go into withdrawal at any time and his purple-blooded urges show up more when he is in withdrawal.



His sprite/lusus knew the most about Danavel and how he was, so it was good that it was prototyped into the sprite. His lusus sprite would not be cryptic in giving advice, since that would be annoying and his sprite didn't like being like that. His sprite came supplied with all the knowledge given to sprites, but the knowledge would only be useful in helping Danavel write the manual in the future and effectively making sure the timeline was secure. Danavel would probably be locked in a room on a meteor, since he would have to go through the effects of withdrawal and since he was important to the timeline's survival. The withdrawal will pass peacefully, unless someone decides to unchain Danavel when he is still going through the withdrawal. But only someone who knows what would happen would do that, but surely no one would be stupid enough to release a pain-filled psychotic purple-blooded troll. At the moment he was still calm, due to the effects of the slime and it would be easy to lock him up in a room until he calmed down.

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Character Portrait: Danavel Maujī Character Portrait: Omega Character Portrait: Zuriik Taroql
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#, as written by Daxion
Zuriik’s expression changed rather instantly after seeing DM’s current state. From confidence to nervous fear, his emotions shifted rapidly. That eerily calm tone, the smeared ghostly aftershade of clown makeup and the occasional eye-twitch, there was no doubt about it. DM was a subjugglator, currently high on Sopor Slime. Zuriik hated his lusus with a fiery passion, attempting to push all things said by it out of his head, with the exception of one bit of important information. This was a survival tip, a description of the subjugglators, the effects of Sopor and the nasty violent curve that trolls who consumed it happened to experience after their high had vanished. Judging from the look of things, DM’s calm demeanor wasn’t going to last much longer.

Talking slowly, Zuriik advanced unthreateningly toward the purple blood. “That thing you’re painting. That is going to come out of the sky and blow up the universe. But don’t worry, I’m gonna spirit us away to safety. Now then, what’s your name?”

“Danavel.”

“Danavel, it is a pleasure to meet you.” Zuriik extended his hand, which the other troll took. After a quick shake, Zuriik bashed Danavel upside the head with a rock that he had just picked up. The latter troll fell to the ground, bleeding slightly from a head wound, but unconscious. The blackblood worked quickly, using a spare chain from his inventory to confine Danavel. He slung the ko’d troll over his shoulder and teleported away, moving through the second and third gates to reach the Land of Machines and Plasma. Within the next minute, Freddy was following Zuriik and the unconscious Danavel.

“So who’s this guy?”

“His name is Danavel. He’s your server player.”

“Oh, dementedManiac? Why’s he tied up?”

“He’s a purpleblood, high on Sopor, though soon to be sober again.”

“Yikes. The chains are understandable then.”

The trio moved on to the Land of Technology and Wind and located whimsicalAlien. He introduced himself to be Gales Neraida, greetings and information were exchanged, as well as the plan revealed. The united quad exited Gales’s base and began to witness the end of all existance. From the surface of LOTAW, the heroes had a perfect vantage point of Skaia as it inverted and collapsed. Zuriik activated Clockwork’s desperation ability, the last trick up his sleeve.

“Get us anywhere but here!” The scythe glowed with a red aura in compliance and the gears inside it began to work overtime. Zuriik brought Clockwork down, the base of it slamming against the hard floor. It exuded a bubble of energy that enveloped the trolls and winked out of existence with them inside as their universe went to hell.


In a far distant future, a man sits in front of a console. He looked young, but his mind had accelerated far beyond his body. He wore a pair of glasses, the lenses of which looked like the ripples of disturbed water. His body was clothed in a outfit that symbolized his authority, power and hardship. A small burn mark in the corner of the room symbolizes his failure. The screen that he stares at is filled with 1 and 0s with a single 2 drifting around. To him though, it is a picture. He sees four trolls abscond from their dying universe. He smiles with relief, a grin that was hundreds of sweeps in the making. It was time.


In a realm removed from time, a man sits in front of a laptop. He looked...crazy, and that was what he was. He wore nothing special, besides for an Ω that was drawn on his chest in dried purple blood. His life could not be told by the soles of his shoes or the shirt that he wore, though the barren rock on which he sat was a pretty good indication that he wasn’t really “anywhere.” Just somewhere. The screen that he stares at is filled with a Trollian chat to an unknown person. To him though, this is a key. He recalls a memory of his plan in fruition, though he did not know it at the time. He smiles with joy, a crazed grin that was perfected over sweeps and sweeps of practice. It was time.


The scene changes yet again, to a universe who had succeeded, but fallen short. 12 trolls now wander an asteroid facility, attempting to contact aliens who may or may not end up helping them. They view their victory through digital windows, seeing but unable to touch. Currently, all the trolls sit in a laboratory, a computer and a friend recently exploded for various reasons. The number of astroidbound trolls is moved down to 11 and in an instant, up to 15. A red orb materializes in a corner, incinerating a nearby fairybull plush. Those present stare, one nearby recently awakened, stare at the bubble in surprise. It fades after a moment, leaving behind Zuriik, Freddy, Gales and a chained up, slowly awakening Danavel. There is a long, awkward silence. Zuriik broke the tension, or attempted to.

“Uh. Hi. My name is Zuriik. Me and my friends here just escaped a malevolent god who turned our universe into a black hole. That’s the short story anyway.”

The apparent leader pushed passed a bull-looking one with mechanical legs and stood in front of the group, attempting to make words come out of his mouth with very little success. He finally settled on a: “Really?”

“Yeah. You don’t mind if we crash here for a while do you? Our home is kind of a...dead zone right now.”

“I...suppose so.”

“Thanks.” It was at that moment that Zuriik saw, from across the room, a female troll peeking out from behind a quite strong looking fellow. She wore a blue and green “cat costume”. It clicked rather suddenly for Zuriik, recognition coming quickly. He stepped towards her, planning to meet the girl of his dreams for the first time in real life. In mid step, Zuriik noticed something. His heart had stopped beating. He sort of spun, falling in slow motion, until he landed on his back. Zuriik couldn’t feel the pain of impact, he only noticed that he couldn’t bring himself to breathe. As his vision blurred and darkened, he saw shapes hovering over him, they looked panicked and concerned through the haze. And at that moment, Zuriik drifted into a deep darkness, the eternal slumber.

ZURIIK TAROQL: DEAD(?)

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Character Portrait: Danavel Maujī Character Portrait: Zuriik Taroql
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Danavel saw the strange expression on Zuriik's face, but Danavel had no idea why Zuriik seemed so scared and he thought that maybe sharing his pie would make Zuriik happier. He started humming a simple tone, it was a tone someone might hear at a carnival. He knew his makeup was smeared, but he didn't mind and he felt calm. His body twitched a bit, but he did not even notice this and he was in peaceful bliss. A subjugglator high on spoor, was a troll's worst fears come true. He laughed a bit, for no particular reason.

Zuriik advanced while talking slowly, so Danavel guessed that everything was alright and that nothing was wrong. "That thing you're painting. That is going to come out of the sky and blow up the universe. But don't worry, I'm gonna spirit us away to safety. Now then, what's your name?"

Danavel responded with his name and a wild stare, but this stare was more unsettling than a rage filled stare. Danavel didn't like consuming slime, but this was on accident and he did not like the high that came with consumption of slime. "Danavel, it is a pleasure to meet you." Zuriik extended his hand, so Danavel took the outstretched hand. " I'm all up and feeling miraculous. It's so peaceful and…. amazing. Can we stay and watch the worlds blow up into pretty colors?" Danavel was quickly shooken and knocked out with a rock, but he didn't even notice until his vision faded and he went unconscious and his question was not answered. Danavel's blood seeped through the cracks on the cave's floor and made random intricate patterns. Danavel would have found this beautiful, if he was conscious that is. Danavel was slung over the shoulder of Zuriik and they were both teleported away, to the Land of Machines and plasma. Freddy joined the duo, but Freddy would not know who Danavel is, until Zuriik explained the situation.

Zuriik and Freddy conversed for a bit, but Danavel was only able to make moans. He wasn't awake, but his body was only reacting the way it was made to react when unconscious. Then they went to the Land of Technology and Wind, where WA was at. His name is Gales Neraida, but Danavel already knew this and Gales already knew Danavel's name. The group of four left the base owned by gale and they saw Skaia being ripped apart, but they could do nothing due to them not being in god tier yet. Danavel's quest bed was located in a captcha card on the meteor, but it was hidden in a secret location that no one knew of and Danavel would not reach god tier till a specific set of circumstances were met.

"Get us anywhere but here!" Zuriik ordered his scythe to do this, so his scythe complied and glowed red as it worked on getting them away from their current location. Zuriik brought down the scythe, effectively making the weapon emit a bubble of energy that brought them to the asteroid with eleven trolls waiting. Aradia had recently blown up and the trolls were not yet subjected to the massacre that would soon be brought upon them, but this time things would play out differently. Danavel was dreaming on Derse and he was seeing the horrorterrors, but his withdrawal also passed into his dream-self.

He awoke on Derse, on the same place he was the last time he visited. He flew up and he was sober, but there was no one to vent his rage on. He went into the vail and he stared at the horrorterrors with a wicked grin, then a set of ticks and tocks could be heard by any Derse dreamer that was dreaming. "Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock, Tick, the tock." He would've tried killing the horrorterrors and possibly die, but he awoke from his dream before he could do anything. He probably would have died if he had confronted the horrorterros, since he was not in god tier yet.

He awoke on the meteor, but he was only listening and planning a way to be free of these chains on him. His eyes were closed and he was not letting on that he was awake, until he had a chance to scare the group. “Uh. Hi. My name is Zuriik. Me and my friends here just escaped a malevolent god who turned our universe into a black hole. That’s the short story anyway.” This seemed awkward, but Danavel didn't care. "Tick." This was whispered and it could be barely heard. "Tock." This was also barely heard, but it was more noticeable than the tick. He opened his eyes and saw a troll with big horns and mechanical legs standing in front of the group. "Really?" He seemed to be a shy troll, but Danavel didn't care.

“Yeah. You don’t mind if we crash here for a while do you? Our home is kind of a...dead zone right now.” This was true, but Danavel's machines were stored in his inventory and his quest bed was hidden somewhere on the meteor waiting to be found. "I…suppose so." Danavel would have a chance to have 'fun'. He was feeling a bit demented, since his urges were finally released and he was free from restraint. "Thanks Danavel was smiling, since he would escape from these chains when Zuriik went to sleep. Zurrik went towards a green cat troll. Danavel recognized this troll as a troll who was in his dreams, but he thought that she was only a figment of his imagination. This game was beginning to get interesting, since he finally noticed that it was not simply a game. Zuriik fell down and his heart stopped beating, but no one would know what or who caused Zuriik's fall. "Sweet dreams, don't let the demons bite." Danavel found this funny and he stared at the rest of the trolls in the room. "Sup, you wouldn't mind helping me out of these chains, would you?" He just made a joke, but he also knew that perhaps they would be foolish enough to release these chains. "I'm going to leave you guys now, so see you later." He stood up and he tried to get out of the chains by wiggling out of the chains, but it wouldn't work and he decided that perhaps he could run around the meteor to find something to cut the chains with. He couldn't murder any of the trolls at the moment, since he didn't even know them or their weaknesses and he would be asking for death.

Damn it, I wont be able to do anything at the moment. Perhaps I could attack later, but I wont be like this until I consume more slime. What a waste of time, but I guess I will consume more slime in the future and then I'll have the chance to have fun.

Danavel thought this as he slowly crept towards the teleporter. He teleported to another part of the meteor and he began to hide, since he needed time to think things out and he was still tied up. He tripped over a couple of times, but he still tried to find a good hiding place. He managed to find a place to hide, but he was not sure where he was and he didn't care as long as he was in a good hiding place. He opened up Trollian, by using the Compugauntlet he had. He activated voice commands, since he couldn't use his hands at the moment and this would be the only way to use the gauntlet with his hands tied. He choose to randomly troll someone, since he needed to see who it was that survived his planet's destruction. A lot of trolls were offline, since a lot of them were dead. A couple of trolls were still online and he randomly choose one to troll. He began trolling a troll by the screen name of fragmentaryLast.

dementedManic [DM] has began trolling fragmentaryLast [FL]
DM: Brother, 1 see th4t you surv1ved the explosion of our pl4net.
DM: 1 need your help.
DM: Do you know how 1 should esc4pe these ch41ns 1'm 1n?
DM: 1t would me 1n my endeavors, 1f you could help me esc4pe these chains.

Danavel's withdrawal was causing a lot of pain to him, but he didn't care and he just tried to ignore it. He hoped this new troll could help him get rid of these chains, but he wouldn't know if this troll would bother to help Danavel.

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Character Portrait: Zuriik Taroql
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#, as written by Daxion
If Zuriik knew what it was like to be dead, it would probably be something like this. Standing in an apparently well lit completely black room, staring at some asshole in tacky blue-green pajamas and ringed glasses. He kind of reminded Zuriik of himself, though older and wiser.

“So...why am I here?” Said Zuriik, the sound fading away without any ambient echoing.

“Well, you died. Sort of.”

“I kinda got that. I mean, why am I here?”

“I decided that it was about time that we talked in person. You are moving toward your destiny but I wanted to speed up the process slightly. Again.”

“Unless my destiny is to be stuck in purgatory with my distant ancestor or whatever, I’m not really sure that I’ll be fulfilling it anytime soon.”

“This isn’t the afterlife. And you are not my descendent. You are me, though removed by a couple hundred sweeps and a bad choice or two.”

“So, what? You’re my future self?”

“More like your alternate future self. You won’t ever become me, if you are concerned about that.”

“Thank god. I’m really not a fan of your choice of clothes. So if this isn’t the afterlife, where is it?”

“It’s rather hard to explain. I suppose this is a mental projection of your inner mind, which I am communicating with.”

“Ok. Um. How?”

The alternate future Zuriik tapped his glasses with a faint smile. “Through clever manipulation of the laws of physics.”

“Do you say anything that isn’t drenched in crypticism?”

“Would you rather I explain everything from the beginning?”

“Please do, future version of myself from a different timeline. Is there a shorter way of saying that?”

“No, but I suppose there is the matter of identity. I guess you can refer to me as...The Ensightened.”

“Right. Please do continue, most Ensightened one.”

“Thank you. Well, as I said earlier, I am you. The first difference between you and I is that our Lusus abandoned you, but not me. When I grew older, I learned the bullshit that he was teaching and ran away. I lived on my own for many sweeps, living in the area that you refer to as the Screaming Hills. Like you, around the same time actually, Freddy invited me to play Sgrub. Our party of four wasn’t really that different from yours, though Lord English didn’t invade our session until rather later.”

“Who?”

“Lord English. He’s the green demon from your visions, the one who turned your universe inside out.”

“Right. That asshole. Didn’t know he had a name though.”

“By the time he had arrived, I had already obtained Clockwork from simply playing the game, rather than from the visions that you received with the code. So when he decided to step in and mess everything up, I was able to escape with our friends, just as you did. We both ended up on the same asteroid with the same trolls. Nepeta and I...we formed a relationship, just as you will.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“All fifteen of us formed a group. We allied with humans, aliens from another universe, to stop English. And we would have.”

“What happened?”

“It was up to me in the end. I would stand my ground and perish, while the whole group succeeded. Or I would flee and our friends...my friends would die. I picked the second option and like a fucking fool I absconded and left them behind. By the time I had returned, they had been massacred.”

“Fuck. Man, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. The blame falls entirely on my shoulders. I banished myself to the Outer Rim, to the very facility that your physical body now rests in. Then, I planned. I used dream bubble technology to craft a device that granted me what I call Vision Unlimited.”

“And that does...what exactly?”

“It lets me see through space and time, witnessing any other alternate universe versions of myself. As well, it gives me the power to send messages to them in the form of visions.”

“Visions? So that was you? Why?”

“I wanted to right my wrong. To train another one of me to not make the same mistakes that I did.”

“That makes sense.”

“You’re taking this rather well.”

“Yeah. This is probably just a hallucination. If I’m not dead that is.”

“I already told you that you weren't. You’re in a coma of sorts.”

“Right, I’m in a coma hallucinating about my future self.”

The calm mentor attitude of the Ensightened faded away. “This isn’t a fucking hallucination. This is your fucking wake up call! Stop dicking around with trivial manners and get on with your life! I am your future. Every bad decision that you have made or will make is ME! And I am helping you out! Now get your head out of your own ass long enough to listen!”

Zuriik stood still, a bit in awe. “Fine, I’m listening. What does this have to do with me?”

“You are my hope for a brighter future. If not for me, here and now, where and when I stand, than for a different me. Or you, rather. The visions I sent you were to guide you. To get you ready to face Lord English. I gave you motivation to fight through the pain and The Pain. To be ready when the time came to accept your destiny.”

“So why me and not some other variation of us?”

“Your role mostly.”

“My role in what?”

“No, your class and aspect. Every player of Sgrub is given a role, a class and aspect pairing, that defines them and their abilities. My role is that of the Mage of Mind. Yours is the Heir of Doom.”

“How can we have different roles? We’re the same person, sort of.”

“It’s because sometimes there is a person who identifies with multiple classes or aspects at the same time. Different timeline reiterations of them will thus be given a different role.”

“So why is being an Heir of Doom any better than being a Mage of Mind?”

“Not better, but more useful for the situation. In this case, the trap that I plan to set on English will be more useful when an active Heir of Doom is there.”

“What’s your plan?”

“You will wake up after this conversation finishes. You will go and incapacitate several trolls to insure the well being of our shared friends. Then you will travel back into your doomed universe using Clockwork and find a specific section of space where I have created the trap. It is called The Construct and is specifically built to trap anomalies like Lord English. You will enter the trap and set the bait. The demon will come, you will trap yourself in there with him and the two of you will fight.”

“You think that I can take on English and win?”

“It is very unlikely that you will be able to defeat him and impossible for you to kill him. I think you can strife with him long enough for our friends to gather themselves and deal the killing blow when he escapes.”

“When he escapes? Not if, but when? You’re sending me on a suicide mission!”

“You’re not going to die. I’ve planned this out. There is a zero percent chance of your death occurring within this mission.”

“So then what? After he escapes?”

“You wait until our friends have beaten him, then they will let out and you can live your life free and happy.”

“Why can’t I just do that now? I have the option of living free and happy as soon as I wake up. What the fuck is stopping me?”

“English is stopping you. His threat, he will eventually find you all and kill you. And her!”

“By her, you mean Nepeta?”

The Ensightened looks downward slightly, in shame or guilt, Zuriik wasn’t sure. “Yes.”

“Well I won’t let that happen. But I’m not about to throw my life away! I have withstood extreme suffering to get here and I will not leave now. When I am so close to achieving what I have only dreamed of. A real fucking life.”

“I know that! You think I don’t know what you’ve been through! I’ve seen you in pain, a good portion of which was my fault in the first place!”

“What? How is my pain your fault?”

A long sigh was let out. “The experience which you call The Pain was an aftereffect of my interference. The reason that I didn’t just give you all your information at once was that I was altering you while you received your visions. Heirs like yourself can be either active or passive, combat heavy or support heavy. They change depending on the situation that they are in. Heirs that are more active become protected by their aspect and even slightly become it, while Heirs that are more passive display more traits of their aspect. To help you fully realize your power as an active Heir of Doom, I had to convince your body that it was dying. Thus the excruciating pain. Thus your aspect protecting you and you becoming more Doom-y. Thus your black blood.”

A silence hung in the air for longer than was comfortable for either troll. “So you. Afflicted me with unimaginable pain. Mutated me into a freak. Caused my lusus to leave me for dead in the middle of the fucking wilderness! Painted a beautiful fucking picture of my happy future with the girl that I love and told me that everything was going to be fucking alright! Then you let me know that I have to go imprison myself with a fucking demon. All while you sit in your little laboratory, pushing buttons with your ass, sentencing me to a life of misery! Just because you fucked up! Does that sound about right!?”

“You think that I haven’t suffered like you have? You try not remembering the dead face of your matesprit that was killed because of your cowardice! You think that the Vision Unlimited is just some cheap parlor trick? I saw everything when I plugged myself into it.” The Ensightened yanked off his rippled glasses, revealing not eyes, but scarred skin where his eyes should be. “I scratched my fucking eyes out!”

The two Zuriik’s stared with absolute fury at each other. You could practically taste the kismesitude. That is, if it wasn’t self-cest.

Zuriik broke the quiet tension. “Why am I dead?”

The Ensightened placed his glasses back on. “You aren’t dead.”

“Why am I dead?”

“I needed to talk to you. Establishing a mental link is extremely difficult. You nearly died from the strain. I don’t think I was so lucky.”

“You’re dead then?”

“I believe so.”

“So what happens after I wake up? The Pain and visions return?”

“No. I can just speak directly to you now.”

“Don’t. I don’t want to hear anymore of your stupid plan or your stupid future. I am making my own decisions from here on out.”

“That isn’t advisable. I can tell you right now that you won’t enjoy the end result.”

“What’s the point of having life, if you can’t live it?”

“I could answer, but you would just ignore me.”

“Send me back.”

“Are you sure? You’ll still be unconscious, your body needs to recover. Your dream self is dead and the trolls around you are running low on sopor slime. Any dreams that you do have will not be pleasant ones.”

“Whatever they are, they’re better than this bullshit.”

“I will do as you request, though I still think that ignoring my assistance is a bad idea. You have no clue what’s going to happen next.”

“I don’t want to know the future anymore. I just...I just want to live.”

The Ensightened shook his head. “The ignorance of youth. Very well then, goodbye for now. Sweet dreams and all.”

Zuriik blacked out before he had a chance to say another word. Instead of the peaceful tranquility of his conversation with The Ensightened, he was plunged head first into the agitation of his subconscious, plagued by sights of ancient ancestors whose times had come and passed, horrified at the violence and horror that his race was responsible for. Then he sunk even deeper. There were monsters there, lurking just out of sight, whispering unholy phrases into his ears. When Zuriik tried to find them, he found people instead, trolls and other creatures as well, immortal and broken from their undying sorrow. They scared him, these terrors. Then Zuriik fell into the depths of his deepest mind, into a realm where nothing at all mattered, where time stood still and nothing existed but you. Hundreds of you, all mistakes and failures. All trying to be you and failing. And you were one of them. And Zuriik was one of them.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Callus Velares Character Portrait: Danavel Maujī Character Portrait: Zuriik Taroql Character Portrait: Fastus Captio Character Portrait: Keni Howard Character Portrait: Elix Straumm
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#, as written by Daxion
Zuriik awoke, quite suddenly. There was no slow sequence, just a quick return to consciousness. Just the feeling of being submerged. Zuriik opened his eyes to an expanse of dark looking green. “Sopor. But it’s been diluted or something. It’s like, weaker now.” he thought to himself. He reached his hands out of the slimy concoction and pulled himself above the surface. With a deep breath of fresh air, he lurched forward, falling out of the Recuperacoon with a wet splotch, waking up a slumbering Freddy in the corner. “What the fuck!? Oh, Zuriik. You’re awake. Wait. You’re...awake? Holy shit, you’re awake. Huzzah!”

“Save the applause Fred, I’m a little wiped out at the moment.” Zuriik rolled onto his back, wheezing with exhaustion at the minor effort of movement after a long time if being stationary. "Fuck. How long was I out?"

"Like three days man, give or take."

"That long, huh?"

"What happened to you? You kinda died there for a minute."

"Yeah, about that..." Zuriik began to explain the tale of what he had experienced while unconscious, with the exception of his crazy dreams. As he did so, he steadily moved more and more until he could stand on his own. He went through a rudimentary yoga routine to wake up his muscles more, Freddy just standing by and listening to his story. "...so that's really it."

"Woah."

"Hey Freddy?"

"Yeah, what's up?"

"Where are my clothes?"

It was as if he noticed for the first time that Zuriik was covered in slime and wearing only his underwear. He blushed, his cheeks coloring in with teal. "Oh. Uh. Right. Sorry. They're over here, let me go get them." He left the room as fast as his legs could carry him.

Zuriik was alone in the makeshift bedroom, at least for now. It wasn't very nice by many standards, but for him it was. Besides the Recuperacoon, it had a table and chest. Freddy entered the room then, laying a pile of clothes and a towel down on the table and scurrying away again. Zuriik wiped himself off and dressed, exiting the room into the hallway, which lead into the transportalizer hub. Freddy stood right, nervously twiddling his thumbs. “Hey, Fred. I’ve got a quick question or two. Cool?”

“Yeah, sure man.”

“The crabby troll. What’s his name?”

“That’s Karkat.”

“Blind chick?”

“Terezi.”

“Dude with the metal legs?”

“Tavros.”

“Polite and proper girl with a chainsaw?”

“Kanaya.”

“Drugged up clown?”

“Danavel.”

“The one whose name I don’t know.”

“Ah, then Gamzee.”

“Strong one who is also a mechanic?”

“Equius.”

“Glub girl and duality psychic.”

“Feferi and Sollux.”

“Douchefins?”

“Probably Eridan.”

“Spiderbitch.”

“Definitely Vriska. So I guess that leaves-”

“Nepeta.”

“-Nepeta. Wait...how do you already know her name?”

“Don’t you remember? I told you, I met her on Derse before we entered The Medium.”

After a moment or two of thinking, realization covered Freddy’s face as he put two and two together. “She’s the cat-troll!”

“What? Of course she is. How have you just now figured this out?”

“Well, I was a little too busy making sure you didn’t kill yourself in your sleep or anything.”

“And yet you managed to recall all their names.”

“I’ve got a really good memory for names.” Freddy punched Zuriik’s shoulder. “Dude, you’re on the same asteroid as the girl of your dreams! Kinda literally your dreams to.”

“Yes, I know. Just...don’t tell anyone about the whole...fact that I’m super flushed for her, okay?”

“My lips are sealed.”

“You didn’t already tell anyone about that, did you?”

“Nah bro, I just told them about The Pain and the visions, at least as much as you told me. I didn’t think you’d want me to tell anyone about your long distance flush-crush or anything.”

“Thanks man.”

“Anytime. So what now?”

“I’m going to go introduce myself again, I suppose. Then just play it by ear.”

“Oh, by the way, Karkat wanted to talk to you about something when you woke up. Well...he said if...but you get the idea. You sure you’re okay to be up and walking?”

“I’ll be fine. Later Freddy.”

“Later Zuriik.”

The two of them parted ways, Freddy heading back to who knows where while his friend stepped into the computer room through a transportalizer. Most of the trolls were present, either typing on chat windows or just sitting around. Nepeta wasn’t there for whatever reason, neither was Freddy of course. Equius was also absent, though everyone else who could be accounted for was. Gale and Danavel seemed to have integrated themselves rather well, they looked like a part of the one big happy family that were currently living their lives on an asteroid in the middle of nowhere. One big happy fucking lie. The crabmeister himself was seated in front of a computer, deep in typed conversation. No one really noticed Zuriik when entered, nor when he walked behind Karkat. From his vantage point over the cancer’s shoulder, Zuriik could see who Karkat was talking to. Whoever the guy was, he looked pretty alien. Weird colored skin, no horns, typing in sky blue of all colors.
“So these are the humans I’ve heard about, huh?”

Karkat jumped a foot in the air, whirling around to face Zuriik. “Fuck! Don’t sneak up on me like that.” His face was slightly flushed with red and he looked as if he had just been caught with his pants down.

“Whatcha doin there Karkat? Having some kind of crossdimensional interspecies hate-date?”

“No! It’s purely platonic. Wait. You’re one of the new guys, aren’t you?”

“Zuriik is the name you are looking for.”

“Right. Didn’t you die or something?”

Zuriik shrugged. “I got better.”

“And how do you know my name?”

He tapped his temple, sitting down in a nearby chair as he did so. “Visions, remember? I used to see the future.”

“Used to?”

“Yeah. Turns out the whole thing was some crazy scheme by a dick future version of myself. I told him to knock it off.”

Karkat rolled his eyes. “Sort of preaching to the choir about the assholish future self.”

“Oh,” Zuriik replied sarcastically, “so your future self ruined your life by mutating you into a freak and giving you daily doses of extreme suffering? And I thought I was the only one.”

" I'm sure you had a tough fucking life, you don't have to be a dick about it."

Refusing to respond, Zuriik instead scanned the room, looking at the various trolls who were doing - in his view - fuck all. "So why contact the humans anyway? What's up with that?"

"We're trying to...help them...sort of."

"Why? What's so important about them?"

"You know how you get a universe if you win Sgrub?"

"Not until now. Never really got that far in the game."

"The humans are our universe's inhabitants. We...got shut out of our prize by this guy, Jack Noir. And now we're stuck on this stupid asteroid."

"Right." The transportalizer flared into life behind Zuriik as a troll left the room (probably Tavros by the clanking sound he made). "So why did you want to see me anyway?"

"Just wanted to tell you to stay out of trouble. And don't fuck around with the humans. This is a very delacate process, any wrong word could potentially screw up the entire thing."

"Got it, later Karkat." Zuriik turned and left the red-blooded troll. Since there was a computer open, he decided to completely ignore Karkats orders and talk to some humans anyway. He sat down and pulled out his computer goggles to copy over his Trollian account. As he was rummaging around his inventory, attempting to balance out the scales, Zuriik noticed that Clockwork was doing some weird stuff in his strife specibus. He pulled out the red scythe after his goggles, examining Clockwork. The blade was now marked with some sort of digital display, steadily counting down. "The fuck is this?" he asked of no one in particular.

“Clockwork is out of charge.” echoed a voice out of nowhere. Zuriik leapt a foot in the air and looked around, attempting to locate the source of the sound. “This is The Ensightened. I am speaking to you in your mind. As I was saying, your scythe has run out of power. The ability you used to travel through paradox space is incredibly powerful and Clockwork needs some time...and some Time to repair itself.”

“I thought I told you never to talk to me again.” Zuriik mumbled under his breath.

“You need some guidance at the moment. Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell you what path you should take in the future, I place that responsibility in your hands now. And all that that responsibility entails. I just decided to step in and give you a little tip about Clockwork, seeing as how I have mastered the weapon much more than you have. You see the little switch there by the base? Flick it.”

“What the fuck are you talking about...oh. I didn’t know that was there.” He did as he was told and a small cord popped out of the blunt end of the scythe. “Plug that into your computer.” Zuriik followed directions and pushed the male bit of the cord into the female port in the computer. Every computer in the entire room shut off, going dark for a moment. After a couple of seconds, they turned on again, amidst a multitude of “what the fuck?”s and the single “what the glub?” Thankfully, nothing seemed to be lost, so no troll was the wiser. Except for Zuriik. His chat window had quite strangely been taken over by a list of twenty-digit number and letter combinations, some in different colors as well. “This is a directory of different contactable human sessions, all playing their equivalent of Sgrub. The red ones signify off limits sessions and that one green one there is the session that your new...friends are contacting.”

“So what about the blue one?”

“I’m not really sure about the blue session. It’s somewhat important in the grand scheme of things, but my vision is blurred in that section of space and time. I’d suggest not messing with that one”

Zuriik grinned at this. “As much as I would love to disobey Karkat’s orders, I think that that ignoring your advice is a hundred times more fun.” He moved his cursor over to the blue session’s code and clicked once. After a short loading screen, his chat window now showed four unfamiliar screen names. “valdephonousHost, rocketingHeir, dashingFalcon and smilingUrsurper. So these are some humans huh?” There was no response from The Ensightened. Zuriik shugged and prepared to contact one of the humans when four more names were suddenly added to the list.

“Here. I thought you might like it if you could both ignore me and disobey Karkat at the same time.”

“That’s quite considerate of you. Wait, why would you want me to go against Karkat?”

“I’m you, remember? I was just as sick of his authority as you are, or will be. Might as well let you get some good laughs in before the shit hits the whirling device.”

“Alright. So you’ve started seeing things from my point of view, huh?”

“Not really. I still think you’re being a total idiot. But you’ll come around eventually. No reason to rush things.”

“Whatever. Can you stop talking to me now, I’m in the mood to contact some aliens.” Silence on the other end of the mind-o-phone. Awesome. It was time to get to work. Or play, rather.

slayronicJustiscythe [SJ] began trolling ectoBiologist [EB]

[SJ]: m4ats nb, stnbiq 4nwau?
[EB]: um. excuse me?
[EB]: what?

[SJ]: [I said: What’s up, stupid human?]
[EB]: oh. well, i’m doing pretty well. it’s my twelfth birthday and all.
[SJ]: m4at t43 fnck is a pirt4qay?
[EB]: It’s like...a celebration of when you were born.
[EB]: seriously, you don’t know what a birthday is?

[SJ]: m3ll, trolls qou’t r3ally 4ave pist4qays. me 4ave mriggliug qays iust3aq.
[EB]: uh...okay?
[EB]: so you’re another troll, huh?

[SJ]: piugo.
[EB]: are you going to be mean to me too?
[SJ]: m4at? m4y moulq i qo t4at?
[EB]: because every other troll i have talked to has.
[EB]: so not all of you are mean? i thought that was kind of a troll thing.

[SJ]: …
[EB]: what?
[SJ]: [Cutting out the typing quirk for a second, what the actual fuck?]
[SJ]: [Are you really just that much of a stupid racist fuckhead to think that our entire species is a whole congregations of assholes?]
[SJ]: [Alright, granted a good percentage of them are guilty of that. But not all. There are plenty of considerate and kind trolls too.]
[SJ]: [You’d better fucking recognize that before you get on the wrong side of a psychotic highblood.]

[EB]: yeah, i’ll be honest. i understood none of that.
[SJ]: …
[SJ]: m4at’s yonr uaw3 auymay?

[EB]: my uaw3?
[SJ]: [Name. What’s your stupid fucking human name?]
[EB]: john egbert. nice to meet you! :)
[SJ]: 4oly fnck t4at is a stnbiq uaw3.
[EB]: hey! i thought you said you were going to be nice!
[SJ]: i said uot4iug of t43 sort. put...
[SJ]: 43llo John 4nwau. wy uaw3 is Zuriik Taroql.

[EB]: and you called my name wierd?
[SJ]: it’s a watter of b3rsb3ctiv3.
[EB]: alright, whatever. :)
[SJ]: y3a4. (: to yon too.
[EB]: so what do you want anyway?
[SJ]: 7nst maut3q to 43lb yon ont a littl3 pit. mit4 iuforwatiou auq snc4.
[SJ]: so m4at qo yon maut to kuom?

[EB]: out of anything?
[SJ]: ynb.
[EB]: um...
[EB]: what’s the meaning of life?

[SJ]: liv3.
[EB]: just live? that’s kinda...
[EB]: simple.

[SJ]: it’s life, uot a fnckiug riqql3.
[EB]: i thought life was a riddle.
[SJ]: i qou’t t4iuk so. i w3au. i’w uot r3ally oue to talk t4ong4.
[SJ]: i w3au. i’v3 liv3q wy 3utir3 lif3 for lov3. so y3a4.
[SJ]: i gn33s lif3 is w4at yon wak3 of it.

[EB]: aww. that’s really cute. :)
[SJ]: m4at?
[EB]: you’ve lived your life for love? that’s such an adorable thing to say.
[SJ]: …
[SJ]: John 4nwau?

[EB]: yeah?
[SJ]: s4nt t43 fnck nb.
[EB]: oh.
[SJ]: (:
[EB]: oh!
[EB]: well you shut the fuck up too zuriik! :)

[SJ]: rig4t. i’ll l3av3 yon for uom t43u. lat3r John.
[EB]: alright, see you later man.

slayronicJustiscythe [SJ] ceased trolling ectoBiologist [EB]

Setting

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Character Portrait: Zuriik Taroql
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#, as written by Daxion
Zuriik sighed, slightly frustrated but mostly content. He had just finished a rap-battle with the Dave human, one he had lost fairly badly. Despite this, a small smile graced his face. The humans, all four of them from the green session...they knew who he was now. They could call him by name, recognize his typing style. He supposed they were sort of like friends, in a way. It had been a good while since he had began "trolling", taking breaks and talking to the rest of the trolls every once and awhile. He argued with Terezi about whether Alternian or vigilante justice was prefered. He chatted with Gales and Equius, discussing the mechanics of weaponry. He...saw Nepeta. Watching her from afar. He still didn't have the courage to approach her, let alone express his feelings. But, Zuriik supposed that it would come with time. It had to. He stood, stretching with a tiny grin. Maybe it was time to start making his advances. Maybe he was fucking sick of waiting. Yeah, it was about fucking time. Zuriik made it about halfway to the transportalizer before a tiny feeling began in the back of his mind. A mental itch, a nearly indecipherable whisper. He stopped, curiously listening. What was that? And then it hit him like a fucking fist in the gut, visions flooding his mind until he thought it would break open. Zuriik fell to his knees, gasping for air. His nerves screamed at him, feeling like knives were running through his veins. Zuriik screamed, images flashing before his eyes. Yin-yang, three paths, fighting the demon, alone forever, failure, betrayal...

"Zuriik! Are you okay? Speak to me bro, what's going on?!"

...the olive-stained walls, blood everywhere, insanity pooling, purple corruption, breaking in his hands, his claws stained with the blood of his friends, golden bladed scythe, facing himself...

"Oh my god. What's happening to him?"

"I don't fucking know!"

...becoming death, becoming pain, becoming...a monster. The visions vanished on the image of a single symbol, Zuriik returning to life with a wet cough, black blood splattering the floor. He was suddenly, acutely aware of his friends, standing over him. He didn't need to look up to feel their stares on his back, their pity toward his plight. He fucking hated it. He wanted to be accepted, not pitied. Zuriik didn't want them to look down on him, he didn't want...her to look down on him. Oh god, she was there too. Looking down at him from the circle as well, a concerned look on her face. He looked up at her, blood dripping out of his mouth from his bleeding tongue - bitten down on accidentally when the suffering began - and saw her looking back. With an expression of pure pity marring her face. Nepeta pitied him, and Zuriik was fairly certain that he was going to die on that fact alone. Fuck the paralysis and extreme pain he felt, that was definitely the worse part of this whole experience. Feeling began to return to his body, feeling other than the excruciating after-effects of the worse Pain in his life. He felt Freddy pushing on his side, trying to lift him up. The sign that Zuriik saw last during his visions was still burned into his brain, the arching Ω stood in his mind, mocking him for not understanding why it was there.

“Come on Zuriik, don’t go limp on me.”

“Sorry, don’t mean to. Don’t really have much control over my body right now.” He attempted to chuckle, to laugh off the event, but that only exacerbated the strain on his body, Zuriik relapsing into a coughing fit, spraying the floor with a thin sheet of black blood. “Sorry for the mess.“ he wheezed out. “I promise that I’ll clean it up in a couple hours. Once I’m back to full strength.”

“Just shut up for a second.” Freddy snapped, more out of concern than anger. “Stop trying to do things that your body can’t handle right now.”

Zuriik quieted, shutting his eyes with a tiny groan. A strong pair of arms grabbed him, lifting him up as if he was a small animal, holding him above the floor. “Equius,” he growled through a raw throat. “Put me down.”

“I do not believe that is wise. You can barely even move, let alone stand.”

Zuriik pulled his foot back and kicked Equius weakly in the chest. “Fuck you, I can stand just fine.”

The indigo-blood shrugged, placing Zuriik gently on the floor. The Heir wobbled slightly but gritted his teeth and continued to remain vertical. With a tentative - although defiant - stride, he walked up to the transportalizer. Without a look back at his friends, he transportalized, appearing in the hub. Zuriik took another couple of steps and collapsed, gasping with short and pained breaths. No, he had to keep moving. He shakily got to his feet again, moving slowly toward his room. He opened the door, closing it behind him. He ran out of strength then, falling to the ground and slipping into unconsciousness. Within an instant, Zuriik was back in the dream-world, the Ensightened staring at him with confusion. “So, do you have any idea what that was?”

“I should ask you the same question. What the fuck was that? I thought you said you weren’t going to give me anymore visions.”

“Those visions weren’t my doing. I don’t know who, what, where or when they came from, but I had nothing to do with it.”

“Fine.” Zuriik snapped. After a moment or two of silence, he spoke again. “Fuck off. I need an hour or two to myself.”

The Ensightened nodded and Zuriik was returned to consciousness. He sat up, curling into a ball in the corner. He began to cry, emotion spilling out of him like an opened dam of sadness. “Fuck.” he whispered quietly. “Fuck me. Fuck this. Fuck...everything.” Nepeta pitied him. His friends looked down on him. This was, without a doubt, Zuriik’s lowest possible point.

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Character Portrait: Danavel Maujī Character Portrait: Zuriik Taroql
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Danavel simply watched Zuriik speak to Karkat, but he didn't want to interfere till their conversation was over. Danavel's mind was cleared up, since he wasn't sober anymore. He didn't plan on going sober again, but it would be inevitable. Danavel walked towards Karkat after Zuriik left Karkat alone. "Excuse me, but what happened in the short time that I was 'unpleasant'?" Danavel's voice was calm and his expression was blank. "Why don't you fucking tell me?" Karkat was annoyed with Danavel, for no apparent reason. There was a reason for Karkat's annoyance, other than his normal crabbiness, but this reason shall be revealed later. "I'm guessing I probably did something you are not too fond of." This wasn't a question, it was a statement. "I don't care, just don't mess with the humans." Karkat had forgotten that Danavel knew nothing of the humans. "Humans?" Danavel was geniunely interested, since he had never heard of the strange "humans". "I'm not going to bother explaining. Just... don't bother them." Karkat was too exhausted to pursue argueing. Danavel was quite frankly annoyed with the attitude of Karkat, and Danavel would have culled Karkat right there if he was threatened.

Danavel walked towards Terezi, since he needed to introduce himself. He had seemed eerie and dangerous before, but he decided to not waste his time standing. Terezi heard him approach before he got into a range for conversation. A smile appeared on her face. Danavel was surprised, since he had barely made any noise. She couldn't smell him very well, so she mistook him for Gamzee. "Gamzee? Hehehe, you don't smell like slime. Have you finally given up your addiction?" Terezi wouldn't try acting like a moiral towards Gamzee, since that would be interrupting Gamzee and Karkat's moirailligence. "Gamzee is the other purple-blooded troll, correct?" Danavel asked a question that would probably confuse Terezi, if she didn't get the information regarding the arrival of the new trolls. "Huh?" She was a bit confused, since she forgot that there were new trolls on the meteor, and that one of those trolls was the purple-blooded Danavel. "Oh, you're one of the new trolls. Heh, welcome to our fun little carnival!" She cackled wildly before saying this. She walked closer to where she thought he was, but he didn't back away. He felt no danger from her, since she appeared to be blind. "Yes, I am. Anyways, what are you doing?" Danavel didn't exactly know what she was doing, and he didn't want to assume anything. "Smelling you." Terezi said this nonchalantly, as if it were normal to smell things. Danavel had heard about ways for trolls to overcome their disabilities, and this was a good example. However, it wasn't really a disability, since she had probably never known what it was like to have vision. Being blind was probably an advantage to her, since she could notice more things. "You smell like Gamzee, but not enough to be confused as him. His scent probably mixed in with yours and created a new scent. Your personal smell is confusing and it's beginning to hurt my head." She couldn't make out the distinction in his smell, so she gave up. She would have licked him, but this could be considered agression. Danavel would have tried learning more about smells, but he couldn't due to Zuriik seeming to be in pain. Danavel would have talked to Nepeta, but he couldn't ignore Zuriik's condition.

Danavel's iris became bigger as he saw that Zuriik appeared to be... choking? How could Zuriik be choking without a source? Danavel didn't hear the screaming, since he was still trying to figure out how Zuriik could choke without a source. "Zuriik! Are you okay? Speak to me bro, what's going on?!" These words brought Danavel back to his senses and he immediately went towards Zuriik. "Come on Zuriik, don't go limp on me." Danavel felt no pity for Zuriik, since other trolls have experienced much worse fates. Like having their horns broken inch by inch. This thought reminded Danavel of Equius's broken horn, but Danavel couldn't pursue that subject at the moment. "Sorry, don't mean to. Don't really have much control over my body right now." Zuriik chuckled, trying to make the situation seem mediocre and funny. But it didn't convince anyone that this situation was not dangerous. Even the laid back Gamzee seemed to be slightly concerned. Danavel saw the thin sheet of black blood, but he cared not for the color of Zuriik's blood. Everyone could bleed, and that was enough to convince Danavel that everyone was equal. "Sorry for the mess." Zuriik... apologized? "I promise that I'll clean it up in a couple hours. Once I'm back to full strength." Zuriik just dissapointed Danavel. Danavel wanted to use the blood for a new painting, but now he couldn't. Danavel wouldn't forcibly use a troll's blood, unless said troll was dead.

" Just shut up for a second." Freddy said this, with a seemingly concerned tone in his voice. "Stop trying to do things your body can't handle right now." Freddy seemed to be ordering Zuriik around, but no one seemed to notice or no one cared enough to point it out. "Put me down." What? Did Zuriik seriously expect that he could move after what just happened. Stupid, naive, and stupid were the words that flashed into Danavel's mind. Survival didn't care about pride, and no troll should either. "Fuck you, I can stand just fine." Zuriik could have easily been culled for these simple words, but no one would do that to him, yet.

Equius followed the order to put Zuriik down. ZUriik wobbled, but he seemed to be used to this sort of thing. Zuriik somehow made it to the transportalizer. Other trolls were following, but Danavel managed to get them to get back with a swipe of his hand. Danavel went into the hub shortly after Zuriik arrived. Danavel followed the noise of a door closing, then he went into the room. He saw a pitiful sight, a troll crying in a corner. "Fuck me, Fuck this, Fuck...everything." Zuriik seemed to be in a deep state of sadness, or another undescribable emotion. "Stop crying, it makes everyone think you're weak." Danavel had a calm tone to his voice. He was commanding, but also giving advice. "I know you're not weak. You managed to save me and the others when the worlds were about to blow up. I'm not going to simply let that go unnoticed." Danavel sat two feet away from Zuriik. "Now, stop crying and pull yourself together." Danavel would have done more, but he wasn't this troll's moiral, and the other troll would have probably taken any more help as an insult.

The black-blood whirled around wih a start, staring at Danavel in suprise, his cheeks wet with dark tears. "What...oh. It's you." He sighed, putting his head back down. "What do you want?" Zuriik asked quietly.

"Tell me, are you crying because your being pitied by the trolls on this meteor, or due to the pain from what just happened?" Danavel didn't want to ask about what exactly happened to Zuriik, since thta would have probably been to personal information to share.

"It wasn't the pain. Fuck, the pain was bearable. I've felt suffering like that before. All the time actually." he answered, avoiding part of Danavel's question.

"So my suspicion was right." Danavel mumbled this to himself. Zuriik had just answered Danavle's question, including the one he didn't ask. "Was the pain any different this time?" Danavel simply wanted to continue the conversation, and this seemed like the easiest way to not ask a question that could make Zuriik uncomforatble.

"Well, it wasn't caused by my obnoxious alternate future self apparently. And the visions were a little...different, yeah. Other than that, same old pain."

"I'm guessing that I also have a future self, but this is simply a theory. Anyways, on to more pressing questions. Is your future self comfortable with you sharing the fact that he exists with me?" Danavel felt that Zuriik had acted on a whim, but he couldn't be sure. It could be possible that all of this was planned, but it was highly unlikely.

"I don't think he cares. Even if he did, I wouldn't really give a fuck. The guy is beyond insufferable."

"Aren't you calling yourself insufferable? I mean, he is you from a different timeline, right?" Danavel wondered how Zuriik could think his future version was insufferable, without trying to understand the future version of himself.

"Not really. I'm nothing like the guy, believe me. He's made sure of that." Zuriik let out a sigh and lifted his head up slightly, staring at the ground with a blank expression, though his eyes still reflected some amount of sadness.

"So he's pretty much an omniscient version of yourself, who wishes to control your future and make you take the least crappy path? That must seriously suck." Danavel didn't have any pity in his voice, instead it was still the same calm and collected voice he always had. Zuriik had probably only seen Danavel sober.

The scythe-wielder glanced at his friend. "...yeah. Kinda. Weird how you guessed it that accurately. Except, he's not trying to make me take the less crappy path. The path he put me on is absolutely shitty, fucking terrible in fact. He wants me to be some kind of..repentance for him. Like, correct his mistakes through me. I swear, he's completely crazy. The guy's ruined my entire life because he made some stupid choice or whatever." Zuriik's voice raised slightly until he caught himself and dropped back into a quieter tone once again. "So yeah. Total asshole."

"Time mechanics sound completely stupid and hard to figure out. I can imagine that he'll probably lecture you or something like that. If I were in his position, I would probably try killing all my problems to make them go away. Guess I'm crazy too. Anyways, has he warned you about anyone dangerous or anything that could possibly kill us in a mili-second? I'm sure that he wouldn't just interfere with your life without giving you advice, unless he's a total jerk." Danavel wanted to know if he was going to have to face any god-like being in the future, so asking Zuriik seemed like an easy choice.

"I don't really know if he's in any position to kill anyone. Apperently, his entire session's been slaughtered by...some demon. And he's dead now too. I have no idea how the guy keeps contacting me. Anyway, as for the interfering? You have no fucking idea. That asshole is responsible for my mutant freak blood color, through some process to turn me into a powerful Heir of Doom sooner or something. And that blood, in turn, is the reason that my lusus fucking abandoned me when I was 4 sweeps old, to fend for myself, alone, in the wild! Advice isn't the only thing that fucker's given me."

"Damn, I would probably kill him if he did that to me, but then again, I am a murderous highblood. It's probably just instinct. Anyways, how would he be able to change your blood color? Is your black blood a representation of doom or something like that?" Danavel felt like if he was finally getting somewhere with his questions, but he had too many to ask in one sitting.

"I guess so. That's what he's told me, anyways. Black blood and darker skin, signs of a Doomite if ever there were ones. How he altered me...I honestly have no clue. It came along with The Pain though, that and my visions."

"Wait, you said that he's an alternate you, rigth? Then, would there be an alternate me in his timeline? If so, did I snap and kill anyone?" Danavel hoped that he hadn't commited mass murder in another timeline, since he didn't particularly like killing. Killing was just an instinctive action that he couldn't control.

"He didn't say anything about you specificly. Or anyone else for that matter...sort of. His timeline is kinda the same as ours, just that his session lasted a little bit longer. But it still got destroyed. And the versions of all four of us, he teleported to this very asteroid. Or another iteration of it. And the same bunch of trolls were there. He never really mentioned...much anyone but...her." Zuriik's voice trailed off. "Never mind, just...forget I said anything." he quickly added, his cheeks darkening a slightly darker shade.

"I wont ask about 'her', since that seems too personal for me to ask about. Anyways. Does he know what aspect and or role I am? It could be severly dangerous if another version of me escaped. You did see what I was like sober, right?" Danavel's future version had already went god-tier, but his future version wasn't very good-natured. His future version was sober, and determined to cause damage.

"Another version? Danavel, everyone's dead where he came from. Including you. And, I don't think you were that dangerous in his universe. He said that everyone fought along side him when...they stood against the demon. That green motherfucker that blew up both our sessions. And I'm fairly certain that you're a part of everyone. So, whatever you do while sober, you get better by the time it really matters. Or get forgiven. Or both."

"That's a relief, I guess." Danavel still had a suspicion that there was another version of him out there, since there could be multiple doomed timelines. It would be impossible for there to only be one timeline, so there would have to be at least one version of him that escaped. Danavel wouldn't show his suspicion of there being another one of him, yet. He felt no reason to share that information. "Should we go back to the other trolls? I'm guessing they're probably worried about you. Or we could continue discussing the confusing mechanics of time, space, and fate."

"You can go ahead, if you like. I'm still a little...don't really want to go back yet. There's really no reason...only a couple reasons for me to return to those guys. Actually, just one." Zuriik let out a quiet chuckle, hugging his knees in towards his chest. "Yeah, just the one. I'm just not really, I don't know, courageous enough. I guess."

"Ehh, same here. I have some explaining to do, since I was brought here tied up. And quite frankly, I don't want to bother explaining my muderous tendencies. Anyways, anything else you want to waste time gossiping about?" Danavel had a slight smile on his face. This conversation was enjoyable, and it helped get his mind off of recent happenings. For example, his planet being blown up, and quite possibly his lusus.

"Gossip? About what, our friends?" he replies, his voice sounding slightly iritated at the suggestion. "Like their personal romantic issues or whatever?" Zuriik scoffs with displeasure. "Yeah, I'm not up to sit around and wonder about who's dating who. It's not my place to meddle in the lives of others. Unless they're doing something that endanger themselves or anyone else. Then? I will meddle the fuck out of their lives. But, if you really want to just want to shoot the shit, then I guess I'm okay with that."

"I wasn't talking about relationships between the people here. I barely even know any of them, so it would be unfair for me to judge. I was talking about the people created by the game. You have heard of the 'exiles', right? If so, have you heard anything about a specific one?" Danavel was surprised that Zuriik was irritated, but he shouldn't have been. Treading on relationships could be a serious matter.

"Exiles? No, never heard of them." Zuriik suddenly stiffened, looking up as if staring at an iritating spot on the ceiling. "Fuck off." he mumbled under his breath.

"I overheard something about them. I was sort of hoping you would know anything about them." Danavel didn't hear the profanity coming out of Zuriik's mouth, but he wouldn't have cared even if he did hear. "I should probably get some rest. Everything has been chaotic since we've started this game. I'll talk to you later." Danavel yawned and stood up. He didn't want to bother unravelling the secrets of the game quite yet. He instead, wanted to simply rest and not be bothered. Sadly, he probably would be sent to Derse and probably have to see the horrorterros. He still couldn't stand up to them, since he wasn't god tier. But, he wouldn't have been stupid enough to fight the horrorterrors either way. He walked away and exited the room. He then went to the location designated as his

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#, as written by Daxion
Zuriik's hand hovered precariously in font of Nepeta's door. He hesitated for a solid minute, instincts telling him to go and heart telling him to stay. With a deep breath, he knocked on her door. After a couple of moments that seemed like an eternity, Nepeta opened the door partially and peaked her head out. "Oh. Hello."

"Yeah, hi." he replied, rubbing the back of his neck with a self-conscious awkward smile.

She stared at him for a moment in silence. "Erm...what exactly do you want? Not to be rude or anything, but you knocked on my door after all."

"Oh, yeah. Right. Sorry. I was just wondering...because, you know, my blood is black and all...if you might want me to help out with your shipping wall? I could help you color in the caliginous ships. If you want."

Nepeta's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "How do you know about my shipping wall?"

Zuriik tapped his right temple, an automatic response to explain his knowledge of things not yet occurred. "I get visions of the future sometimes. Of I did anyway. In one of them, you were telling me about your wall. I didn't actually see it, or understand much, but I get the general idea."

"Oh. Okay then." She smiled, looking somewhat relieved. "I was worried that you were stalking me or something fur a moment."

He chuckled. "Yeah, that would be really awkward. No, I'm not stalking you. So...anyway...is it okay? Me helping out, I mean.

"Well..." Nepeta thought for a moment. "Okay. But you have to purromise that you won't tell anyone about any of the ships."

Zuriik traced an "x" over his heart. "I purromise."

She giggled, playfully rolling her eyes at his echoed inflections of the word. "Just come inside." Nepeta opened the door wide enough for him to come inside.

"Thanks." Zuriik stepped past her lightly, heart beating fast at the realization that she had just invited him inside her room. Awesome. His eyes glanced about, taking in his surroundings. "I like your room."

"Thanks." she replied, closing the door behind him. She crossed over to her shipping wall, staring up in pride at the drawn friend pairings. "Oh, hey. I don't think you've ever told me your name."

His mind instantly flew back to their first meeting, the dream encounter. /She must not remember./ he thought. "Zuriik. Zuriik Taroql." he answered.

"Nepeta Leijon." She replied. "So, Zuriik, do you have any ships of your own? Purrhaps I could add yours to mine."

Oh fuck, yeah he did. Her and him, flushed. But Zuriik couldn't say that. "Well, I'm pretty sure Freddy and I are pale right now. You know Freddy, right?"

Nepeta nodded. "Yeah, I know him." She grabbed a few little containers of paint and started to draw. "Could you touch up a few of the black ships? I'm almost out of ash, so they're getting a little bit messy."

He nodded, heading over to the left side of the wall, over to the Terezi ♠ Vriska ship. Zuriik placed his thumb in his mouth, biting down enough to cause himself to bleed. He pressed the finger against the wall, coloring in the faded spade, eyes wandering around the other ships as he did so. They were fine, he supposed. He wasn't really that invested in anyone's romantic life except for his own and Nepeta's. His gaze fell on one painted pair, in the corner, covered by a few crates. But not hidden. His finger stopped on the wall, his heart stopped in his chest. Nepeta...and Karkat. Flushed. Zuriik felt everything at once, rage towards the Cancer, betrayal towards the Leo, fury at himself, and a deep sadness that finally swamped him in depression. OTP, said the three letters above the ship, the infernal message becoming entirely clear to him. She loved Karkat. No, she was in love with Karkat. Nepeta, the girl that Zuriik loved more than anything, whom he was in total horns-over-heels love with...loved another. He felt his heart break and shatter, dropping down out of his chest and becoming lost. He bit his lip, hard enough to draw blood, and ripped his gaze away from the infernal ship. "I...I'm sorry, but I've got to go. I just...remembered that I have to do...something. I'll see you later though." Zuriik called to Nepeta, turning and leaving as fast as he could. He was back in his own room the next thing he knew, staring at the wall with horror, the painted picture of flushed affections burned into his mind. He wanted to cry again, to sob his fucking black heart out. But he couldn't, he didn't have the ability to do so. He felt numb and broken, hurt so badly that he didn't want to ever feel again. He curled up into a ball in the corner, eyes watering and lip quivering, almost crying but not able to take that last step over the edge. She didn't just pity him. She didn't love him at all. And...she loved another. Nepeta was in love with Karkat. For the second time that day, Zuriik felt like dying. Or maybe he was already dead. And this was some sort of cruel hell. The Ensightened's voice echoed in his head, trying to offer solander and apology, but Zuriik couldn't hear it. He was dead inside, his soul rotting. What did he have left to live for, when his cause had been proven naught? He didn't know. He didn't know and he didn't care. α was grabbed out of his strife specibus, Zuriik holding the blade to his wrist, ready to slash his lifeline to the world. 'You selfish asshole.' A snarling voice sounded in his head. It was his voice, not the Ensightened's, but Zuriik's. 'You love her? Prove it. Let her go.'
'I can't.' he mentally protested. 'I can't, I love her too damn much.'
'Then make her happy. Don't fucking hoard her, she isn't yours. If you truly love her, make her happy. No matter what that means to you. Satisfy her. Make her love complete, whether it's for you or not. Acquire her a fucking matesprit. Get Nepeta and Karkat together. Whatever it takes for her to smile.'
'...' Zuriik let the scythe fall to the ground. 'Okay.'