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Sleepover on Hellmurder Island

Summary:

Some friends get together on a tiny, remote island in the middle of the south Pacific.

They have a nice time.

There's simply nothing else to read into it.

Notes:

Happy 10th Anniversary of The Gods Have Horns!

Special thanks to MadamMelonMeow, Liyuna Bass, Sam Gabriel, and Ocean Man for their help in brainstorming, beta-reading, and generally helping with writer's block.

(See the end of the work for other works inspired by this one.)

Chapter 1: Prologue: A Picnic

Chapter Text

⇒ Be Jade

Your name is Jade Harley: Jade, for the color of your eyes, and Harley, inherited from a grandfather who died when you were small. You are ten years old, but it is only today that you will get to go on a picnic with your friends.

Picnics have never been difficult for you to organize. But a picnic by yourself, or even accompanied by a very good dog, is a little boring. You usually eat outside anyway, so long as it's not monsoon season. The problem is that your friends are usually too busy to have a picnic with you. One day, you will have friends who are less busy. But for now, you take what you have been granted: one beautiful sunny afternoon in the meadow with two of your closest friends. You leave the house to go to them.

When you get there, you find your friends are already seated on a checkered picnic blanket. One of them, a goddess dressed in billowing, red and blue summer wear, smiles at you as you draw near with the picnic basket. "Hello, Jade," the horned woman calls. 

You grin, gap-toothed and bespectacled and brown in the sun. "Hi, Terezi! You made it!"

Your other friend, who's wearing a dark hoodie and is hunched over a phone, is not paying much attention. You turn to him and say, loudly, "Sollux, I'm very glad you made it, too! I know you’re super busy all the time!"

"How many times have I told you to aggregate the plug-and-play methodologies, you assholes," mutters the hooded figure. Terezi bats him lightly on the head, and he whirls with a scowl, eyes flashing. "Damn it Te—"

"Jade was talking to you," says Terezi calmly. "Pay attention."

Meanwhile, you seat yourself next to the two gods, and open the picnic basket. "I brought sandwiches," you say, and hold one out to Sollux.

"Oh," says Sollux, and stares at the proffered food item. "What is that? Did you burn half of it?"

You giggle. "No, It's just pumpernickel. I made it half white and half brown. Because you like halves."

"Oh. It's very...food."

"You eat food, Sollux." Terezi says, nudging the other god with a grin. "I know you don't eat often, but if you dig deep you'll remember."

"I know what to do with food!" Sollux snaps, and finally accepts the sandwich offering.

You tilt your head. "Have you never seen pumpernickel before?"

Sollux takes a huffy bite of the sandwich, then says with his mouth full, "Whatth pummernicgkl?"

Terezi swats him again, but gently. "Don't talk with your mouth full."

He swallows irritably. "And you wonder why I don't go out in public much. I don't have time for this shit."

"No, it is because we don’t let you," Terezi replies.

You dig into the picnic basket for another sandwich. "Huh. I thought you guys knew everything." You sit up and offer lunch to Terezi: a bacon-tomato-strawberry jam concoction, which the goddess accepts graciously.

"Studies are going well, I trust?" Terezi asks.

"I thought you already knew?" you reply, and Terezi laughs.

"Yes, from an objective stance, but I want to know how you perceive it."

"I like the science and math a lot!" you tell her. "But the politics stuff is kind of boring."

"Not everything you learn will demonstrate its value right away," Terezi advises, and then she turns to smack Sollux, who has begun texting while eating his sandwich.

"Hey!" he objects.

"No multitasking at the picnic blanket." Terezi's voice is solemn. "That's the rule."

"Do you realize how inefficient this is?" cries Sollux.

"I will break all your devices if you try it again."

Sollux glares at Terezi, who ignores him and takes a bite of her own sandwich.

"This is delicious, Jade."

"Thanks!" you say. "Oh! I brought drinks, too!"

Sollux perks up at that. "Red Bull?"

You smile, contrite. "No, I have Coke, lemonade, and root beer. Sorry, none of it's red. Or blue."

Terezi pats you on the shoulder. "The court finds you innocent of wrongdoing. I'll have a lemonade, please."

"Coke for me," says Sollux. "I don't suppose it's the old-fashioned kind? With real co-"

Terezi jabs him again, and you hand both of them their drinks, unperturbed when Terezi removes the top of her can with her teeth.

You go back to the picnic basket and take out a peanut butter-banana sandwich and a root beer for yourself. Between bites, you say, "So, when I looked up picnics, I read that you can do things like play frisbee or fly kites!"

Sollux snorts. "Nobody does that. Who even does picnics anymore? Everybody stays inside where they should be, with their computers."

You continue, undaunted, "Well, I'm doing a picnic today, and so are you, so that can't be true."

Terezi smiles at Sollux, takes a slow bite of her sandwich, swallows, then turns to face you. "You are correct, Jade. Millions of people are having picnics at this very moment, all across the universe."

You grin at Sollux. "Ha. That's another thing I knew and you didn't! It can't be that bad, anyway. You're having fun, right?"

"I'm a prisoner of war is what I'm—" starts Sollux, then he catches a glimpse of the expression on Terezi's face. He sighs, then continues in a mechanical tone, "I would be delighted if you could give me another sandwich, Jade. These are delicious."

Terezi nods in approval, and you smile broadly. "I made a bunch!" you chirp, and begin rummaging in your basket again.

Sollux frowns at Terezi. "Well, if you think my people can engineer a viral convergence without my supervision then you don't know the heights of their incompetence."

"I only made one that was half-and-half, sorry," you say, offering Sollux another sandwich, which he takes with a simple "Thanks."

Terezi gasps in mock-surprise. "I'm shocked, Sollux! You just displayed actual manners! Without being reminded!"

Sollux gives a half-grin. "I'll invoice you for the trouble, don't worry." Then, he turns to you. "How's the dream robot working out?"

"It's working great!" you enthuse. "I keep running it into walls, though! So, um, I'm trying to cushion the walls."

Sollux chews thoughtfully. "You know, I could rebuild your house for you. Get me a map of Prospit and we could get some work done."

Your eyes widen. "Wow, really? That would be a big change!" You glance in the direction of your home, though it is out of view. "Grandpa built the house. I dunno if I want to change it too much."

"Well, you could remodel Prospit instead. That would probably be cheaper, too."

You smile. "I'll ask the Architectural Supervisor about it!"

Terezi interrupts the scheming. "Jade, I advise against reconstructing an entire planet at this stage."

"Oh." You tap your chin with a finger. "Well, I won't redo the whole world. Just the parts where I might crash the dreambot."

Sollux nods his approval. "Integrating the architectural functionalities is a good step."

"Yeah!" You finish off your sandwich, then reach back into the basket, withdrawing a white disc. "Anyone want to try frisbee?"

Sollux immediately looks less enthusiastic. "I'm pretty sure that involves running."

"And catching!" you agree.

"Yeah, no," says Sollux. "Isn't that what your lusus is for?"

"Well, I usually play it with Bec, but I thought today...?" You look imploringly at the god of Doom.

"Sollux, play nice," says Terezi, giving him a look that, for all that she is blind, is quite effective.

"Ugh!" cries Sollux. "Fine, fine! I get it! Fuck!"

While you snicker at the cussing, Terezi extends a hand to pap her fellow deity. "Shoosh. It's not so horrible."

"Okay," you say, stepping back and talking quickly. "Whoever catches it gets to choose who to throw to next!"

Sollux gets up slowly, moaning and groaning in an award-worthy "woe-is-me" act, then toddles a short distance away. He glances at the distant horizon in consideration.

Meanwhile Terezi stands and stretches, changing in a blink from her sundress to an athletic tracksuit. Without turning, she calls to Sollux, "Don't even think about flying away, bub."

Sollux sighs long-sufferingly, and holds his arms up floppily.

"Go long, I think!" you yell, and throw the frisbee, but it flies right past Sollux's limp fingers.

"Oops," says the powerful, ancient god, who then shuffles off to get the wayward plastic plaything. Then he returns, walking to within five feet of Terezi and tossing the disc at her.

Terezi, for her part, catches the frisbee, spins with the momentum, then sends it back to you in a fluid motion.

"Show-off," mutters Sollux, watching as you run after it and just barely catch it. "Was the spin really necessary?"

Your fingers close around the disc. "Whoo-hoo!" you shout. "I got it!"

Terezi tilts her head towards Sollux. "Efficiency-wise, no, but ask Jade if you think it wasn't worth it."

"Sollux, try again!" you call, and you all continue in that vein for a while, long into the afternoon. Sollux barely puts any effort towards the game, while Terezi ensures each throw is incrementally faster, higher, more difficult, pushing you to the edge of your ability. Eventually, you tire and lie down, stretching out on your back next to the picnic basket.

"Ready to turn in, Jade?" asks Sollux hopefully, walking over.

"Nah," you say, smiling tiredly. "Just resting. Looking at the clouds. Wouldn't it be funny if Earth clouds had visions, too?"

"It'd be different, certainly," says Terezi. "And perhaps troubling, as well."

You frown. "Really? I think it'd be nice. No one would have to have questions, and no one would have to worry either, 'cause we'd all know how it all turns out. We could just have faith."

"Not everyone accepts fate easily," says Terezi, sitting next to you and withdrawing a coin. "Especially when it does not flip in their favor."

"But then there's no point in feeling bad about it," you insist. "That's just how it is. Feeling bad just makes it worse. Right? "

"Hmm." Terezi flips her coin. "One may conclude that one's own feelings are the only thing one can control about any given situation."

"Well, then they should choose to be happy!" you exclaim. "That's what I'd do."

"Even when the fate dealt is unjust?" Terezi's expression and tone are neutral.

You sit up and look at the goddess of law. "I thought that's what you guys were for?"

Terezi smiles, this time not showing her teeth. "Servants and masters both, we are."

"What's that mean?" you ask.

"TZ," says Sollux. His voice, too, seems very carefully bland.

"Nothing," answers Terezi, after a moment. "Just that I wish you luck in your own molding of fate, when the time comes, Jade."

You smile uncertainly. "Alright. Thanks, I guess?"

A bark echoes over the meadow, and you stand to welcome Becquerel, laughing uproariously as he appears out of thin air and pounces on you, filling your face with slightly-radioactive kisses.

"FF's remembering to clean up her DNA regularly, right?" mutters Sollux, and Terezi shooshes him.

"Let's walk back to the house together," suggests Terezi. "I think Sollux is starting to get a little restless."

The god sputters, but you, giggling, agree. So you go, the gods arm in arm, your fist buried deep in the ruff of Bec's neck.

Strange creatures and gods are an ordinary part of life, for you. But one day you will have human friends, too.

⇒ Be Future Rose

Chapter 2: A Playdate

Chapter Text

Your name is Rose Lalonde. You are fifteen years old, but it is only now that you will meet the friends you’ve known online for a year.

You sit at the window of a sea-plane, looking out at the blue below. You can’t make out the waves from here, all depth and nuance erased by height and distance. It looks utterly placid, but below swim all the many-tendriled beasts of the sea, chitin-shelled or soft-bodied, bescaled or beslimed, writhing in the briny depths. It’s eat or be eaten, down there, as is the way of Mother Sea. You wonder what Eridan has said to that goddess about you.

Not that you’re particularly worried about making a good impression. You just hope the Witch won’t take too keen an interest. You don’t think you’d mind if you sprouted tentacles, but you’d have objections if you had to give up living on land entirely. However, neither outcome is terribly likely, as you’re not making this trip to socialize with more gods.

"It's like the baseball metaphor," Dave had said. "Like, if texting is first base, calling on the phone is second, and video chatting is third base, but meeting up to see each other IRL is like a home run. Then the Astros win the world series. Hope somebody remembered to bring condoms."

Well, with that rather confusingly suggestive metaphor put aside for now, you are a little bit excited. You’ve communicated over the Internet with Jade and Dave for over a year now, talking or messaging almost every day, but meeting them in the flesh feels like a step up in intensity. You brush an imaginary fleck of dust off your skirt. You’re sure that it will be fine. How could it not be? You know them. They’re not strangers.

“Island on the horizon,” says Eridan from the pilot’s seat. With their own wings, the gods can fly anywhere, and get there as fast as they like. They can take objects with them, as well. But they can't take people, or animals for that matter: Living things cannot travel as gods do. Even a plant or insect would not be able to enter a god's Sylladex while alive. So, when the gods have companions, they must choose other means of transport. Eridan could easily have had one of his Angels fly the plane, but when you are the cargo he seems to be more willing to put in the legwork himself, so to speak.

Out the window, you can see the steep peak of Jade’s island’s volcano, and a few smaller ones. The Island is composed mostly of the edge of a crescent shaped caldera, and it’s approaching fast as the plane descends.

Eridan's sleek seaplane lands smoothly on the waves, stirring up a frothy wake that slams into the shore and throws up ocean-spray. You see a young woman, who you soon recognize as Jade, running and waving her arms on the shore, following Eridan as he steers the plane into the primitive wooden harbor.

No sooner do you emerge from the plane than Jade gallops barefoot across the boulder-strewn strand and down the pier and tackles you with a war-cry:

"ROSE!!! GLOMP!!!"

Squinting into the sun, you do not have time to brace yourself, and you go down under your enthusiastic friend's affectionate attack. However, you soon recapture your wits, and roll out of the way before Jade can lick your face (or whatever she's trying to do — you can't quite tell).

"Jade, please, is Fef raisin' you to be an animal?" asks Eridan, looking affronted as he steps out of the seaplane.

Jade stares at the Prince of Hope like a frog caught in a flashlight, then gingerly gets to her feet. "Uh, sorry, sir, I'm just so happy to see Rose!"

"Well. It's not wrong to be happy, but try to conduct yourself with a little restraint."

"Um," replies Jade.

You brush yourself off. "Goodness, Jade, I wasn't sure if it was you running at me, or your dog."

"Oh, Bec will be here soon! I can't wait for you to meet him!" Jade enthuses, ignoring the subtext of disapproval.

"Rose, did you get everything you need?" asks Eridan.

You nod, gesturing at the small duffel bag resting on the pier.

"Very well then. I will see you tomorrow." Eridan reaches out and taps the plane, captchaloguing it, then spreads his wings to fly away. You suppose he didn't want to stay and see the Witch today.

"Goodbye," you say, a half-moment too late. Now that it’s just the two of you, you turn to Jade and take a deep breath of sea air. "Well! Where should I bring my bag?"

"Oh, wherever you want! You're the first one here, so let's wait for Dave and John, okay?" Jade chirps. "I don't want to miss them!"

You both converse happily on the dock for the next hour, and eventually you remove your shoes and dangle your feet in the south Pacific surf. This seems to give Jade an idea.

"Rose, let's swim!" And before you can say a word, Jade starts to strip.

"Swim? In the ocean? Where there are jellyfish and, ah..." You pause. "I did not bring a swimsuit."

"That doesn't matter!" Jade grins and pulls her shorts down, and you avert your gaze. "Just go in your underwear if you're shy."

"Jade, the boys could arrive at any time."

"So? Cannonball!" Now fully ready to skinny dip in the ocean in broad daylight, Jade leaps into the water with a shameless whoop.

You consider yourself well-traveled and quite worldly. You’ve seen the topless beaches in Europe and the Japanese nude bathhouses. And you’ve long known that Jade's upbringing has been quite different from your own, or anyone's really. But it is only now, watching Jade as she kicks through the clear, blue, tropical water in the buff, that you begin to grok the effects that growing up with no human socialization to speak of might have on a young person.

Jade floats on her back, looking up at you on the dock. "Aren't you going to join me?"

You choose your words carefully. "I have not swum in the ocean before, and I do not feel comfortable doing so without bathing clothes. I think the boys will feel similarly."

"Really? How are you so sure? You haven't met them before either!" says Jade, before half-submerging her face and blowing a froth of bubbles.

"They are even less adventurous than I am. You may need to trust me on this one." You smile, and then, well, can't help yourself. "Besides, if they see you like this they might get the wrong idea about this whole event. Unless... I'm the one with the wrong idea?"

Jade stares at you a moment, then snorts with mirth. "What? Oh, you mean like, sex? Silly, I’m just swimming." Clambering out of the surf back onto the dock, Jade starts to pull her clothes back on. “But if you don’t want to swim I don’t want to do it without you! That would be rude.”

You pause, suddenly aware that you may be about to become the first person to introduce the concept of shame into Jade’s world. "It's alright. You're not used to human social mores coloring your actions. I think your view on these things is quite interesting." You keep your tone warm, but you can't help but run what you’ve just observed through the various psychoanalytical frameworks you study. You’ve never met anyone quite like Jade.

"Hey…it's not like I don't know anything," says Jade, her tone defensive. She’s soaking wet but at least clothed now. "I mean, Fef tells me stuff and I have the Internet."

"Gods aren't the same as normal people," you try to explain. "They didn't grow up like we did. Like we do. They won’t have the same perspective."

Jade shrugs. "I don't think that matters. No two people grow up quite the same." Then, her smile returns. “Oh! You should come see the house!” She takes you by the forearm. “Come on!”

Traveling with the Prince, you are used to opulence and unusual accommodations, but you still stop and stare when, emerging from the jungle path, you see the “house”: a massive white mansion perched on top of a grassy volcanic cinder cone, boasting a tower like the Seattle Needle and topped with gravity-defying spherical rooms.

"Jade," you say slowly, "You live there?"

"Yeah, you can see my room there, near the top." Jade points at the smaller gravity-defying orb. "My grandpa built it."

How could one man build all that? is what you want to ask, but instead you simply comment, "That's quite high up."

"Yeah, there's a lot of stairs," acknowledges Jade. “We don’t have to take them, though.” She reaches into her pocket and fishes around a moment, before pulling out an alarmingly glowing dog biscuit. She puts her other two fingers in her mouth and whistles.

"Jade, what-" But as a large white dog appears out of nowhere and everywhere at once, you quite forcefully remember how Jade previously had described her free-ranging pet, and come to the swift conclusion that absolutely none of it was exaggerated.

Bec eats the treat, tail wagging, and you watch in bemusement as Jade takes your hand, then commands the dog: "Garden, Bec!" An instant later, all three of you are standing in a shining greenhouse, full to bursting with profusions of beautiful and otherworldly blossoms. "Good boy!"

You are covered in goosebumps, your skin tingling. That was teleportation. You just teleported. Via dog. You let out a strangled giggle, and Jade looks at you curiously after giving Bec another treat. "I, ah…" You giggle again. "I'm just wondering why we are the ones to come all the way to visit you, when you're the one with a teleporting pet."

"Oh," Jade smiles and shrugs. "Bec just knows a few commands. I trained him to take me to the garden and to my room, not just anywhere."

You shake your head. Of course. He's still an animal. He's not like the magical messenger magpies in Complacency of the Learned; he has to be taught where to go. After all, much as it might seem otherwise at times, magic isn't real.

“Your garden is lovely,” You say, gazing about at the veritable riot of growth. You curiously inspect a bloom that looks rather like the mandelbrot set. “I’ve never seen flowers like these before.”

“I’m glad you like them!” Jade grins. “Fef makes the seeds special for me. There are also vegetables over here. I’ve been experimenting with growing luffas!” Jade gestures towards a broad trellis covered in enormous leafy vines.

“Luffas? Like the sponge?”

“Yeah! And I’ve also got beans and yams and toothbrush vines over there. And pumpkins. I keep losing the pumpkins though.”

“Everything you need for a balanced diet,” you reply with a small smile.

Jade laughs. “Oh, pft, no! The garden is just for fun.”

Something cold and wet presses against your hand, and you look down to see the dog. “Hello, Becquerel,” you say. “I’m afraid I don’t have a treat.”

“Here, give him one!” says Jade, and tosses you a glowing green object that, upon catching and a close examination, is a piece of meat.

“Oh,” you say, and offer the questionable treat to the large, white animal. “Good dog?”

The meat, possibly radioactive, vanishes in a single snap of jaws. You jerk your hand away with a small “Eep.”

“Good boy!” Jade gushes. “Be gentle!” She takes a step closer to you (a little overly-close, to be honest), and grins. “And, um, here’s a treat for you, too!” She shoves a long, green zucchini into your hands.

Freud, you think, would have a field day.

Jade is waiting for you to say something.

You nod, slowly. Of course. Jade never went to school, never had to conform to anything or anyone, never learned which kinds of hobbies were considered ‘cool’ and which ones passe. She had never been mocked or teased by a peer into compliance with social norms. You begin to wonder if the gods who ran her life ever tried to impress any particular behavior on her at all, or if they trained her much as she had trained her dog. Surely they must have? So many unanswered questions.

In the end, you only say, “Thank you.”

It’s at that point that the door of the greenhouse opens, and in swans the Witch of Life.

You’ve consorted with the Prince and the Thief, both of whom are amongst the most feared of the Zodiac pantheon. You’ve briefly met the Maid, thank goodness not on business, and the Seer, who seemed to be nothing but business. None of them could have prepared you for the goddess of the bathypelagic, of the hungry stomach, of white teeth and red claws.

“Rose, honeybee, I can’t believe it’s you! What a lovely young lady you’ve grown to be!” The horned woman, draped in colorful silks, embraces you like she’s some kind of distant relation (though you’re not completely confident on that simile - you have no actual distant relations). Her gray skin is smooth and cool as she pulls you to her bosom, and you pull back instinctively.

The goddess relaxes her clutches, only to hold you firmly at arm’s length. “What an absolute delight to have you here!” she gushes, and smiles a broad, shark-toothed grin. “Please make yourself at home! Jade has been so looking forward to seeing you.”

“Ah,” you say. “I’m Rose. Yes. Though, you seem to already know who I am.”

“You can call me Fef!” The goddess continues, and finally releases you. Then, snapping her clawed fingers, she turns to Jade. “Jade, your other friends are here! Just arrived.”

“Oh, boy!” exclaims Jade. She grabs you by the hand. “John and Dave are here! This is so exciting, Rose! All of us are here! Ecks dee!”

Did she just pronounce “XD” as a word? You feel as though you are rapidly losing your grip on reality. You might need some fresh air.

⇒ Be John

Chapter 3: A Cruise

Chapter Text

Your name is John Egbert, and you are about to meet a friend at the airport. This is a friend who you met online a year ago, and in most situations, this would not be a smart move. In this situation, it’s only slightly better.

“Straaaaaanger Danger!” you say to yourself, putting on a Texan accent just for kicks. Your chaperone, a plainclothes policewoman with a sigil of Mind printed on her cap, glances at you a moment, then goes back to looking bored. Maybe she drew the short straw, accompanying you while you take this little vacation. You ask her if that is the case.

Her verdict: “Why don’t you read a book or something, kid?”

She’s no fun.

What is kind of fun is that you’re in Honolulu, Hawaii! Vacation paradise! Land of hula and coconut bras!

…You don’t really know much about Hawaii. You’d buy a guidebook, but you’re not going to be in Honolulu for long. It’s really just a stopover. So instead you rifle through some free travel brochures.

You start pacing back and forth between the two nearest gates. It looks very sunny outside. You can see palm trees out beyond the runways, about the same size, at this distance, as the palm trees on the brochure in your hand.

The brochure also has surf boards and luaus and ladies in bikinis and fancy hotel spas. All sorts of stuff you’re pretty sure are not going to be happening to you on this trip. Unless Rose and Jade decide to wear bikinis. Um.

They don’t mention on the brochures how Kauai was overrun by the Witch’s monsters and abandoned about five years ago. That doesn’t count as “knowledge about Hawaii” — everyone knows about that… but chin up, John! Jade never mentioned monsters on her island. It’s probably fine.

Oh! You hear an announcement over the intercom. The flight from Houston has arrived at the gate! FINALLY.

Your escort holds up the “DAVE STRIDER” sign, and you scan the faces as they pour in, searching for the only one who will be wearing sunglasses inside the airport.

There! White-blond hair, dark shades, too-cool-for-school expression (never mind it was mid-summer!): Dave Strider, the one and only, just like on video chat.

“You’re so short, dude!” you blurt, and laugh. “I thought you’d be taller!”

“The webcam adds ten pounds,” he replies, not missing a beat. “Mine are vertical.”

“No way!” You grin. “I don’t think pounds can be vertical.”

“It’s just science, Eggy-B.” He raises one fist for a bump. “Pound it.”

“Pft.” You roll your eyes, but you can’t leave him hanging. You pound it. “I know this sounds sappy, but it’s good to meet you, man.”

He cracks a small smile. “We already met like eleven months ago, nerd! Hell, I meet you every day in fucking cyberspace. But I guess coming here and making a home run has got me all sappy too, ‘cause uh… Yeah.”

“Aw!” You beam at him. “I’m glad you think so too!”


“Dang.” You run your hands along the interior wood paneling of the yacht that will, over the course of the next three days, take you to Jade’s island home. “Fancy boat.”

“It’s alright,” says Dave, looking around the inner cabin of the yacht. “Don’t see why they couldn’t fly us there. Not like they can’t charter a plane. They have like infinite money. Scrooge McDucking up in this shit.”

You shrug. “Gods work in mysterious ways, who knows?” You grin. “But look at this snack bar, dude! There’s Gushers! You can’t get this on an airplane, come on. And there’s a couch and plush seats and, check it, a widescreen TV!”

“Is there a crew?” Dave wonders. “Or just that Mind-cop following you around?”

“I think she is here cause I uh, tried to run away, that one time,” you mumble. “But hey, I think there’s an Xbox attached here!”

“Mhm,” says Dave. “Hold that thought, I’m gonna go put my shit downstairs.”

Dave goes behind the counter and downstairs, his luggage rattling metallically as he drags it to the berth. You wonder briefly what he’s got in there that rattles so loudly, then go back to exploring the yacht.

This boat is unbelievably fancy. It’s got a minifridge and a bar (stocked with soft drinks, you checked), a DVD library (oh heck yes, they have Con Air and you’re absolutely going to force Dave to watch it). There’s a cupboard full of board games and another full of what looks like snorkeling gear. You’ve gone swimming in pools and once a lake, but never in the ocean before! You’re excited to try it, but also thinking a little bit about sharks. You’re not planning on telling Dave that part.

It’s nice that the yacht has a fair amount of space, so you probably won’t go too stir-crazy. The main indoor cabin has all the amenities, and the bedrooms are on the lower floor. There’s also a front deck and a back deck and an upper deck where there’s like, a captain’s room with lots of fancy looking monitors and buttons and stuff. You poke around the lower deck and find a locked room (maybe where the Mind-Cop is staying?) and also a cargo room, with a bunch of crates. They’re labeled with Jade’s name so you don’t mess with them.

Once you’ve explored to your satisfaction, you go to the upper deck, letting the wind blast in your face for a bit. It feels nice.

You turn to look back towards the boat’s…. You don’t remember what the back is technically called. The starboard? Anyway, you look towards the boat’s ass, and you see that the Honolulu shore is already barely visible in the distance. You’ve never been so far from home before. You swallow dryly.

“Hey,” says Dave from behind you.

You jump, just a little, and he smirks. “Pft, don’t jump off the deck, ectobiologist. They’ll have to stop the boat and waste hours fishing your ass out of the drink. We’ll be like, halfway to New Zealand or whatever and the Mind-cop steering the boat’ll be all: ‘Oops, we lost the less-cool one,’ and instead of kickin’ it with shirley temples and virgin mojitos we’ll have to go all the way the fuck back, only to find you dying of hypothermia in the unforgiving waves, and we’ll be like “I’ll never let go, John!” but we’ll have to let go cause you’ll be totally dead. Who did you think it was, fucking slenderman?”

You blink at him, just a moment, then smile. “It’s Hawaii. The water’s not that cold.”

He puts a hand on your shoulder and leans in like he’s whispering.  “One word, Eggy-B: jellyfish. Invisible, boneless sea-jello with poison that makes your flesh turn green and peel right off.”

You shove him lightly. “Fuck off, I am not gonna get stung by jellyfish.” You’re still grinning like a loon, excited at the prospect of spending nearly three days with no parental (or even any adult??) supervision. Anyway, fuck jellyfish.

“They can smell fear from miles away.”

You snort. “No way, man! You are definitely lying.”

“If the Witch changed ‘em, they could. Anyway, it’s not like you’re a marine biologist.” He pauses. “You’re an ecto-biologist, whatever the fuck that means.”

“It’s ghosts. So like, ectoplasm?”

“Okay, well ghosts are like the jellyfish of the graveyard.”

“Pfffaahahaha!”

This trip is gonna rule.


That evening, you wander into the cabin, thinking about food.

“Yo check it,” says Dave, then launches himself off the wall and does a backflip over the dining table. The mind-cop, who is putting out a few platters of reheated pizza for you, frowns at him but says nothing.

That was the sweetest flip you’ve ever seen, and you let out a whoop. “Dude, you should try out for the Olympics.”

“Fuck that, can you see me in one of those leotards? Skin tight with sparkles and shit and a national flag? Doing a triple-spin reacharound with a forward pirouette off the uneven bars? No fucking way.” Dave sits down at the table. “Anyway, I’m out of practice.”

You shake your head in amazement. “Dude. Did the Rogue teach you that?

“Uh.” You can’t read his expression behind the shades, but Dave’s posture shifts slightly, turning away. “Not really.”

“Oh.” You wait for him to elaborate. “Okay.” He doesn’t elaborate.

“What about you, Bob the Builder?” He nods at the hammer looped around your belt. “You’re always going on about the Seer. You gotta have something to show for it.”

“Oh. Uh.” You frown and rub your arms. Phantom bruises. “I guess. Nothing like that.”

The Seer has told you, in no uncertain terms, to never go anywhere without your hammer within arm’s reach. She even punished you once for not keeping it by your bed at night. These days you barely even notice the handle’s weight against your leg.

Thankfully, Dave drops the subject, inspecting the contents of a little box on the table. Tea bags, apparently. “This tea is shit,” he mutters. “Lipton, seriously?”

You smirk at him. “You’re a tea snob?”

“Jolly right pip pip,” he replies, doing a terrible Dick Van Dyke impression as he picks up his pepperoni slice with his pinky stuck out. “Fancy a cuppa yourself, good chap?”

“Whatever.” You roll your eyes.

“Bollocks. Bloody hell.” He wiggles his pinky in your face.

“Stop it.”

“Arse,” he continues, pronouncing the word with a hard ‘r.’

“What the fuck kind of accent is that? You sound like a pirate. Arrrrrrrrs.”

“Avast,” he concludes. “Shiver me timbers. Booty.”

You lift your foot up and shove your shoe in his face. “Booty yourself!”

You both laugh as the sun sets over the waves.


After two days on the yacht, motoring smoothly through tropical heat, the interior is basically trashed, with dirty dishes and food wrappers everywhere. Your cabins are in a similar state. Why did Dave put a real godsdamn sword in the shower stall? It is a mystery for the ages.

You pass the time with Dave playing Marvel vs. Capcom and chatting about whatever. You manage to convince him to watch Con Air , and his commentary is both hilarious and scandalous. You love it. The Mind-Cop stays in her cabin or sometimes goes to the captain’s cabin, presumably to make sure the ship is still on course. But other than those occasional glimpses, you and Dave have the run of the yacht.

The lack of adults is normal for Dave. He doesn’t have parents. In fact, you’ve been specifically advised by the Seer to not bring up family-related topics with him. Because he’s traumatized or something. You’re not sure about that, though. He doesn’t seem traumatized.

It’s the morning of the third day, and you are scheduled to arrive at Jade’s island that evening. Some combination of your time zones changing and no fatherly supervision has messed up your internal clock something fierce, and when you wake up you have no earthly idea what time it is.

“Blargh,” you say, and stretch, and shuffle out of bed. You glance in the mirror. You look like a mess, and you could maybe use a shower, but there’s a sword in there, oh well. You decide to just pat your hair down. Good enough.

When you manage to slouch upstairs to the main cabin, Dave is already there, writing in his notepad in the sunlight. “Sup, sleeping not-so-beauty,” he says, not looking up from the pad of paper.

“Does that make you prince not-so-charming?” you shoot back. He smiles, just a little. You’ll take that as a win. “What time is it?”

He doesn’t glance up. “Noon or something. I dunno.”

“What are you doing?”

“Sketching some comics.” He waves the notepad around, and you get a glimpse of what looks like a stick figure of Hella Jeff being keelhauled. “No internet out here, it’s fucking barbaric. I feel like a goddamn caveman, making comics with a stick and paper. We’ve moved past this. Fuck. At least it’s ironic. Acoustic S.B.H.J.: ten times shittier and one hundred times slower. Read it and weep, Charles Schulz. Pee these nuts.”

You lean over to peer at the sketches, but other than the keelhauling, you can’t tell much of what is going on. “Is that the yacht? Is this autobiographical?”

“I fuckin’ hope not. I’m not-”

That’s when the Mind-cop rushes in, and there’s something about her body language that makes you both shut up. “Boys,” she commands, and you blink in surprise, not having heard her voice since the first day. “Get down in the cabins, there’s-”

WHUMP. The boat shudders and rocks, nearly throwing you off your feet, reminding you very viscerally of the fact that you are out at sea, hundreds of miles from the nearest shore, with only a thin aluminum-and-fiberglass hull separating you from briny doom.

“The fuck was that?” Dave voices the same question you were thinking, and you both rush to the window.

“Boys!” the cop snaps, but you don’t really care: you can see the water frothing outside.

“What’s-”

That’s when the thing erupts out of the water, immense, like a semi-truck heaving up from the waves, with what must be hundreds of clicking, skinny, chitinous limbs instead of a grille. Seawater glistens on its crusty back, pouring off the dark maroon sides of what looks like a shrimp the size of a whale. It remains there a moment, then lunges at the yacht, heaving itself up onto the deck and lifting pincers like twin excavator buckets.

“Gaugh!” you scream, lurching back from the windows of the cabin as the horrible crustacean bashes them with its claws, making spiderweb cracks. The mind cop unholsters a gun as the second blow shatters the windows entirely.

Dave is retreating down to the berth as the yacht rocks under the creature’s weight, lurching back and forth. Is he going to get his swords? Maybe he’s just running away.

“John! Get down, get a-!” The mind cop fires one shot, a harsh bang ringing in your ears, and then the creature knocks her over with a flailing limb as thick as a tree trunk. It turns, slightly, and then you’re looking directly into a giant eye, big as a soccer ball, black and glittering and sunk into the prow of what passes for the creature’s face.

The mass of writhing limbs on its front are reaching for the fallen cop. Maybe it’s going to eat her.

Your hand finds the handle of your hammer. The hammer finds the creature’s eye.

The problem with fighting a giant monster with a hammer, you quickly realize, is that a hammer’s handle really isn’t that long, so you have to get pretty close up to hit it. So close you’re practically on top of it. So when the creature shudders at your attack and flails its massive limbs, you scream and hold on to its carapace for dear life, hammer hooked into its ruined eye socket. Your feet scramble and slip, trying to steady yourself to lift your hammer and hit it again, but it’s bucking under you like a mechanical bull.

Then Dave makes a reappearance. “Fuck!” he shouts, seeing your predicament as you hang off the side of the monster. With that as his battle-cry, he thrusts at the creature’s side with a katana.

The fancy anime sword breaks right in two against the monster’s shell. Fuck if it even noticed the attack.

Dave, seemingly undeterred, leaps onto the back of the beast just like he had the cabin’s furniture, then grabs your arms and helps pull you fully on top, to a more stable position.

“Augh! Shit!” you scream. “What are we supposed to-”

The creature lifts its heavy front claws and bends them back towards you, like it’s trying to grab you or scrape you off its back.

You lift your hammer and thwack the creature on the top of the head as hard as you can, making a sound like smacking a solid brick.

THWACK! THWACK! CRACK! Are you making a difference? Is any of this doing anything? You don’t know, you just need to hit it and hit it and hit-

The creature lurches backwards, and it’s only when Dave tackles you bodily from behind that you realize it’s retreating, and it’s about to take you both with it, through the window and into the ocean.

You land hard on the floor of the cabin and, nerves still ringing with adrenaline, scramble to your feet. The monster is gone. The surface of the sea outside is placid, with no sign anything had ever been there. 

Splinters of wood and shards of glass are everywhere. The cabin is ruined. But, you’re all alive. The mind cop is getting gingerly to her feet, holding her side and breathing heavily. Dave is standing behind you, gripping your shoulders hard, almost hugging you to him, in the same position as he was when he threw you off the monster’s back. He drops his hands quickly when he sees you glance back at him, and laughs nervously.

You join his giggles, a wash of jitters sweeping your skin as you realize the danger has passed. “Oh fuck, dude.”

“Rode that thing like a bronco.”

Fuck.”

Dave calls to the cop: “Hey, you okay?”

“I’ll live,” she grunts, then lifts a hand and points at you. “You two, stay belowdecks until we get to the island. Try not to step on the glass.”

You glance down, and see the small shards of broken glass embedded in your forearms, shins, and knees. “Oh, shit.”

Down in the berth, you get to work on picking the shards out, while Dave does the same. “Sorry about your sword,” you offer.

“It was just a shitty katana,” he replies flatly. “Not a big deal.”

“The fuck was that thing? Was it a Witch-monster? I thought the Witch wanted us to come?”

Dave shrugs. “How should I know? Maybe she doesn’t control them that well. It’s not like she had it out for the island of Kauai in particular.”

That’s a distressing thought.

Hopefully, Jade’s island will be welcoming. You pick out a particularly nasty shard and wince. You wish you were there already.

⇒ Be Future Dave

Chapter 4: Hide and Seek

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

So, some time after you kick the shrimp’s ass and go down to the cabins to lick your wounds (ouch, that’s probably gonna scar), your little pleasure yacht limps into Jade’s port. There’s a welcoming committee - Rose La-motherfucking-londe in long-sleeved clothes that look ungodsly stifling in this heat, and your host Jade Harley, wearing the combination of a sundress and a cowboy hat. Oh yeah, and a tall horned goddess draped in silks.

“JOHN!!! DAVE!!!” Jade shrieks and waves her arms in the air as you disembark, like the two of you are rockstars and she’s about to throw her underwear at you. You mention as much to John.

“Could go to a fella’s head, this kind of treatment,” you say. “Could make a fella think he’s hot shit, like he’s a god or something.”

John snorts.

Rose looks you up and down, still smiling but also clearly staring at the bandages you hastily applied to the multiple cuts on your legs and arms. “Goodness,” she says. “What happened to you?”

It’s the Witch of Life who mentions the obvious. “What happened to the boat?”

The mind cop speaks in a monotone from the top of the gangway. “Ran into trouble.”

“Yeah, one of your pets slip its collar or something?” you speak up. You have no fear of her. You don’t think you’ve been brought here as a guest just to die, which to your mind works as a free pass for the fieriest top-tier sarcasm your teenage tongue can spin. “Don’t suppose you put out any posters offering a reward if you run into Fido the Monster Lobster?”

“How about calling it the Mobster?” suggests John.

“Sure. If you find our Mobster, please return him to this tiny secret island in the middle of nowhere. Reward: lifetime supply of butter and lemon sauce.”

Jade frowns. “A lobster?”

The goddess of Life doesn’t look any less cheerful. “Oh, dear. Well. Some creatures are not very well-trained. Let me see that.”

She takes you by the arm, and you open your mouth to object to the manhandling, but then your wounds vanish with a prickling, shivering warmth. No scabs. No scars. Just the slight tingling sensation, like pins-and-needles.

The Leviathan Mother smiles toothily at you. “While we’re here, want me to add anything extra? Fins? Spines? Tentacles?”

“Uh,” you say, thoughts flatlining (wtf tentacles ) and then she’s moving on to John, healing his cuts in seconds.

Then, when she makes him the same offer, he says: “Can I have wings?”

Wings? He’s got to be kidding.

“Sure!” says the goddess. “I should let you know, though, that you wouldn’t be able to fly, even if I made them large enough. Humans just don’t have the aerodynamics or endurance for flight. And if I changed that , then you’d end up not looking very human-like anymore. Wings make fun decorations, though!”

“Oh, uh,” says John. “I was just joking.”

Jade speaks up: “Maybe just try them temporarily! I had wings for a few days once, it was neat, even if I couldn’t fly.” She makes eye contact with you, glittering green in your mirror shades, for just a moment. “I think you’d look cute with wings.”

Suddenly, your firehose of a gabber won’t open. Oh, godsdammit. Gods fucking dammit. Say something.

After several awkward moments of struggle, you work your jaw loose and- “Depends on what kinds of wings we’re talking about, here. Godly wings? I dunno dude, I guess those are coming eventually but I don’t think the whole gossamer tinkerbell look is for me. A little bit too ethereal in this hizzouse and that’s not my jam. Maybe bat wings, those’d be badass. Might have to change my name though. Be all like who’s this Bruce Wayne guy? Bam surprise, it’s me, time to kick The Penguin’s ass with my real motherfucking wings. Batman’s got nothing on this bitch. Nananananananana. D-Stri!” You turn to John. “Damn, will I need to dress all in spandex? With bat nipples?”

John looks gobsmacked, Jade is giggling quietly, and Rose rolls her eyes.

“You want bat nipples?” The Witch has an all-too mischievous glint in her eyes, and you cross your arms in front of your chest.

“Fef!” exclaims Jade in mock-offense. You don’t think she was going to do it, not really. You hope not.

Jade leads your merry band back up the jungle-covered hill to her house, while the Witch stays to chat with the mind-cop. And heal her, probably. Anyway, Jade has a lot to say about the island.

“There’s the shooting range and the garden and the observatory and the basement is full of these creepy stuffed animals, and we could also explore the ruins and the reefs and the jungle! There’s so much to show you! Are you sure you can’t stay longer than the weekend?”

“They haven’t even been here an hour, Jade!” says Rose. “Slow down a little.”

Jade’s eyes are shining. “I could show you my music! Oh my gosh, we should form a band!”

John snickers. “I can play keyboard. What should our band name be?”

You smirk. “Wait so like, you play the bass and Rose plays violin and John plays keyboard, and I guess I can mix it, but like what is our genre? Island metal wave? Ghost noise? Tentacle thrashback? Deified dubcore? House trap?”

“Do we need a genre?” asks John. “I like Ghost Noise as a band name though.”

“It could be a genre of one,” suggests Rose. “Fitting, that way.”

“How about the Dogs Gammit?” adds Jade. “As a band name. It’s like a spoonerism.”

“Is a spoonerism about dogs like a Snooperism about Doggs?” You ask, and John gives you a fist bump. 

“Oh right!” Jade grins. “You haven’t met Bec yet. I’ll call him!”

You pause a moment on the path. “Wait, you mean your weird radioactive hellbeast? The one you should’ve taken out behind the barn long ago?”

“I take him out back all the time, and give him cuddles!” says Jade. “He’s great.” She puts two fingers between her lips and whistles, and the weird radioactive hellbeast just appears , glowing an unearthly white-green and panting, green tongue flopping.

“Good boy!” Jade coos over the massive dog, burying her hands in his fur. “Bestest boy!” She looks back at you and smiles. “You can let him sniff you to say ‘Hi.’ ”

Rose is unperturbed and John looks awed by the creature, but… You’re unsure. Becquerel kind of gives you the heebie-jeebies. Not that you’d admit that.

You hold out your hand, and Bec sniffs it, breath hot and moist. The green tongue flicks out to taste your fingers. You wipe your hand on your pants as soon as the dog moves its head away. Gross.

John holds out his hand, too. Bec sniffs it, too, but then something about the dog’s body language changes. Its ears go back, it crouches its front legs, and it barks commandingly, then whines.

“Uh, hi?” says John. But before he, or any of you, can say anything else, it lunges at John, and both of them vanish.

“What the fuck?” you shout, alarmed. “Where’d they go?”

Rose turns to Jade. “Jade?”

Jade is frowning, but doesn’t look nearly as worried as she should be. “Oh, this isn’t like Bec at all! He only takes people away because he thinks they’re an intruder, or when he plays with me.”

Jade then puts her fingers in her mouth and whistles, but this time nothing happens.

“Did he think John was an intruder?” asks Rose.

Before Jade can answer, you interject: “Why John? Why would he think John is an intruder, but not me?”

Jade shrugs helplessly. “I dunno! But he looked more like he was happy before they went, not angry, so maybe he’s playing? We can look for them, though I should warn you they really could be anywhere.” She whistles again. Nothing.

“Anywhere… on the island?” Rose prompts.

She shakes her head. “No. Anywhere in the universe.” At your horrified expressions, she quickly amends: “Bec still needs to go somewhere with air! So John is probably fine.”

“Probably???” You echo her loudly. “What if he isn’t?”

Jade shakes her head. “I, I really don’t know! I’ve never had visitors who weren’t gods before, so this was never a problem…” She pauses. “I’m going to ask Feferi for help.”

“Already here, dear.”

You jump and turn, and the goddess is directly behind you, pink wings fluttering and looking completely unconcerned.

“Fef, Bec took John somewhere and we don’t know where!” says Jade.

The Witch just smiles. “I’m sure they’re both fine. In fact, I just got a message from a good friend that informs me they’re still on the island!”

A good friend?

Jade, however, seems to get it immediately. “Oh, was it Terezi? Did she say where they are, exactly?”

“No,” says the Witch, and shrugs. “But consider this: finding them will be an ex-shell-ent team building exercise!”

Jade bites her lip. “Okay, Fef,” she says, but Rose is frowning.

You voice your opinion: “I thought this was supposed to be a low-stress vacation?”

“I promise he’s safe,” says the goddess, still smiling. “So, no need for stress.” And with a flutter of her wings, she is gone.

“She could have asked the Seer where exactly they are,” comments Rose. “And not left before we could question her about withholding information.”

Jade shrugs and smiles. “That’s just how she is. Anyway, it might still be fun! I can show you around the island while we look.”


After visiting Jade’s garden (the lemons have faces and it’s fucking you up), Jade’s room (she uses a literal teleportation device to get there), and Jade’s basement (that’s a big-ass snake), you trudge back out to the beach, no nearer to finding John than when you started. You’re getting a little tired of this.

Jade is gazing at the mountain with a thoughtful expression on her face, and no, no fucking way are you climbing a mountain today. You are about to say so, when Jade speaks up instead:

“You know, there have always been areas of the ruins I couldn’t get to, either because Bec always teleported me away from them or I couldn’t figure out the puzzle locks… maybe John is there?”

“These ruins aren’t at the top of that steep mountain, are they?” you gripe.

Jade smiles. “You’re not scared of a little hike, are you, Dave?” she says, and giggles at your expression. "It’d be easier if we could fly, huh?”

Huh. “Nah, a hike is fine, I just uh, don’t really feel like doin’ it in these comfy-ass flip flops.”

Rose looks like she’s considering it. “I have boots.”

Jade shakes her head. “I wasn’t going to hike up the mountain anyway.” She points into the jungle. “There’s ruins in the bay that I’ve never quite been able to fully explore - let’s try there?”


Your jaw actually manages to drop when she summons giant lilypads by playing the bass guitar. Is this whole island set up like a fucking video game?

So yeah, you jump across the lilypads like it’s fuckin’ Frogger, and then Jade shows you the door to the stone tower which… has a giant frog statue on the top. Okay. Cool. Absolutely rad.

“I’ve never been able to get in because of the pressure plates,” explains Jade, pointing at some hand-sized depressions spaced out near the tower’s entrance. “They’re too far away to reach all three at once. I’d have to have three extra-long arms! And when I try to come up with a solution, like with my robot, Bec just teleports me away.”

Rose frowns. “Maybe he takes you away because he smells something dangerous? Not that his opinion on what’s dangerous is necessarily a sufficient reason.”

Three depressions. Three of you. “Maybe it’s all a setup,” you say, and Rose meets your gaze for a fleeting moment.

“Let’s give it a try!” prompts Jade.

With all three of you pressing the plates, the door opens with a grinding and screech of clockwork.

The inside of the frog ruins are surprisingly nice-looking. Like, you’d expect lots of dust and spiderwebs and crumbling walls and shit, but it looks more well-kept than your apartment. Not that it’s a high bar.

At the top of a long stairwell is a round room, the walls covered in weird inscriptions. The room only contains two objects. One is a desk with an old gas lantern, and lots of drawers and papers scattered around. Fancy-ass fountain pens wait in their fancy-ass holders. There’s even a coffee mug imprinted with a faded decal of a mountain. If you squint, you can even maybe make out the writing on it: I ♠ Mt. Everest.

The other object is a platform with a digital counter on it, and a giant pink flower bud on top. The counter has three minutes on it, counting down.

Also, John is there. And the dog, laying down next to the door and panting. John looks up from the papers he’s reading and smiles sheepishly. “Oh, hey guys. Bec wouldn’t let me leave.”

“Hey man, glad you see you in one piece,” you say. “We were worried you’d fucked off to outer space or some shit.”

Rose smiles at John. “I, too, am relieved that you’ve merely been held hostage in this old ruin, rather than left in hazardous circumstances.” 

Jade squeals and throws her arms around him. “Found you!”

John returns the hug, if awkwardly. “Yeah… Hey Jade, what is all this stuff?” He holds up the paper. “It’s like, science notes??”

Jade shrugs. “I haven’t been here before. Bec always kept me away from this part.” She turns to the dog and kneels to pet him. “But you were too busy with John, weren’t you, boy? Beccy boy! Best friend!”

“May I see them?” Rose asks, and John hands over a sheaf. You peek over her shoulder. The handwriting is all in fucking cursive. As if you can read that.

While she pores over the illegible papers, you glance back at the flower. Two minutes. “Uh, guys? The fuck is that counting down to?”

Jade looks up from cuddling her hellbeast and shrugs again. “I’m sure Bec would take us away if it was dangerous.”

But you just said he always did before, is what you think. And he brought John here. You don’t trust that dog one bit.

Still, Jade walks up to the weird digital flower.  The dog accompanies her. She pokes it, looking thoughtful. Nothing happens. “It can’t be that dangerous. Maybe it’s something Fef made?”

“That doesn’t exactly mean it’s not dangerous,” you point out. “She makes giant fuckin’ monster lobsters for fun.”

“Your grandfather was studying it,” says Rose, not looking up from the pages of handwriting. “As well as the ruins themselves.”

“He was??” Jade looks over Rose’s shoulder as you do so on the other, but the cursive is just as bad as the first time. “Oh my gosh!! That’s so amazing!”

You glance back at the bud. One minute. Why the fuck is no one else concerned about this?

“Yeah, he wrote that he thought it was, like, a time capsule!” John adds. Guess he can read cursive too. “But he couldn’t figure out how to open it.”

Gods dammit. No way in shit you are gonna be the first one to look scared. You kinda wish you had one of your shitty swords, though. A little.

“Well, it looks like we’re going to find out on his behalf. Very shortly.” Rose puts the sheaf of papers down.

Jade claps her hands excitedly.

John stands up.

Becquerel pants.

Five seconds. You tense up.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

And the flower blooms, opening in moments to reveal… a manilla folder. A regular-ass Manilla folder.

“Well, that was anticlimactic,” you say, to distract everyone from your shiver of relief. Jade steps forward and picks it up. As she flips it over, you can see what’s written on it by hand:

  2

A moment later, the flower wilts and withers to dust, revealing a new, tiny bud beneath it. The timer also resets, to a full 400 years in the future. Weird. And creepy.

“It’s for the Mage!” exclaims Jade, eyes huge behind her glasses. “We should get this to him!”

John frowns. “How?”

“I’m sure he’ll come over if I call his name,” Jade says. “I’ll show you: Sollu-”

“Wait, hold on,” you interrupt her. “You don’t want to even look at it yourself first? Not even a peek?”

“The contents seem rather slim,” observes Rose. “But it must be important.”

“Er, right!” says Jade, looking at Rose in apparent relief. “It’s important, so we should just…”

“We can still give it to him in a minute,” you press. “But come on, let’s look at it. Secret god business is our business too, ‘cause we’re like, gods in training.”

“I don’t think there’s a special tool or anything in there, right?” says John, stepping up to look more closely at the folder. “It’s probably just papers.”

“Papers can hold information, and information is power,” Rose reminds him.

Jade glances around at the three of you, surrounding her. She holds the folder tight. “But… It’s not ours…”

“He will forgive us,” says John. “I’m sure of it. Since we are the special destiny god kids or whatever. I think we can flip through his mail once or twice.”

Jade sighs, and relaxes her grip. You snatch the folder in a flash and open it.

The document inside shows a picture of… something. Like a surgical table? And surgical implements? Scalpels and saws and pins and shit under harsh lighting. But the... patient being cut up is just a dark blot that your brain refuses to process, refuses to see. It’s leaking purple fluid onto the table. And even though you can’t seem to focus your eyes on any features, you can tell it’s dead.

Rose frowns and takes the top page, considering it. You, on the other hand, just feel a headache coming on. You glance away, thankful for your shades.

“Whoa, what the fuck?” says John, voice rising in pitch.

You glance at Jade, who is shaking her head rapidly. “That’s… I don’t know what that is. I don’t like it.”

Rose looks fascinated by the image. “I almost feel like I could make it out if I look hard enough,” she says softly, and her eyes are wide, unblinking, and dilated. She looks weirdly gray.

“Nuh-uh,” you say. “No way. That’s some eldritch bullshit there.”

“Yeah, you should probably put it down, Rose,” Jade adds. When Rose doesn’t respond, the island girl forcefully plucks the image from her hands. “Maybe take a little break?”

Rose blinks, and you can practically see the color return to her cheeks. “Hm? Jade, I almost had it!”

“Maybe “it” isn’t something we should have,” says Jade, looking solemn. “This could be dangerous.”

But the way she’s holding it, you can see the picture, and you notice something odd. Or, well, odder. Sort of. Odd because it’s so normal?

There are little pixelated squares near the edge of the surgical table, and around some of the tools. JPEG artifacts. JPEG artifacts on the eldritch photo. Like in SBaHJ. What the fuck even. You look back at the folder, at the next document.

It’s- What the fuck. Math??

It’s a rough sort of grid with letters and words scrawled all over it in that same dirty yellow color. The edges are marked with "time dimensions" and "space dimensions" and various points in the middle are circled or crossed out and annotated. There are two drawings or sketches, too - A big U with a wiggly line through it and some kinda twisty 8 with a cross. The words “we are here” label an arrow that points toward a spot near the bottom. The whole thing looks like a prescription a mad scientist doctor wrote for an alien. Made of math.

“I think this is the Mage’s handwriting,” says Jade, putting the disturbing photo back into the folder. She holds the weird math page out so you all can see it. “That’s how he texts.”

You all lean in close, bumping shoulders. Your shoulder bumps Jade’s. You attempt to decide whether to remain in contact or pull away a bit, but she doesn’t seem to mind, so you leave your shoulder in place.

“What does it mean, then?” John asks.

Jade shrugs. “I don’t know. It has the number of space and time dimensions here, but that’s just geometry and I don’t see how that connects to tachyons. Maybe it has to do with multidimensional matrices?”

“Ugh, math sucks,” you state. Your opinion is absolutely objectively correct, even if you haven’t been to school since seventh grade.

“Look at these symbols,” Rose says, pointing at the wiggly “U” and the doodle of what looks like three grapes on a toothpick. “The “U” here is Ophiuchus, the heretical 13th Zodiac sign. And the other one… it might be a caduceus, but it lacks the sigil of Hope. Maybe this is a study about the gods that came before ours?”

“Weird,” says John. “But tachyon-two - or does that mean tachyons? - are about faster-than-light travel, right? That’s what they were in the movie K-PAX starring Kevin Spacey and Jeff Bridges. Maybe this is about space travel!”

“Wasn’t that the one panned for the exoticism in its portrayal of extraterrestrials?” Rose asks, raising an eyebrow, and John grins sheepishly.

“I still liked it,” he admits. “It really doesn’t deserve that bad of a reputation.”

The three of them turn to look at you. You take a deep breath.

“I mean, I don’t know anything about tachyons or Ophi-whatever, but this bit,” — you point with authority at the part of the chart labeled “ unprediictable / ultrahyperboliic” — “That sounds pretty cool. I mean, ULTRA-hyperbolic. Those must be crazy insane moves. No one can predict it."

Jade smiles, but when she speaks she does not sound impressed. “Do you know what ‘ultrahyperbolic’ means, Dave?”

“It’s ‘ultra’ and ‘hyper,’ so it must be a fuckton of bolic. So much bolic. So much.”

Jade gives an uncertain smile. “Um. Kind of.”

John grins. “That sounds like “ball lick.”

“Ew!” exclaims Jade. “Gross!”

“Excuse my intrusion on this…highly intellectual moment,” says Rose. “But perhaps we should save copies of these pages for ourselves, before we hand them over to their intended recipient?”

“On it.” You whip out your phone and snap a pic of the weird math. Jade won’t let you at the other one.

Once both papers are back in the folder, you all leave the frog-shaped chamber, dog beast trailing behind you.

“Sollux Captor!” Jade calls, and you brace yourself. “I think we have your mail!”

It’s a fair few seconds before he appears, and damn, he looks a mess. Hair sticking out everywhere. Shades aren’t even on straight. Face drawn, almost emaciated. He’s a rumpled, hunched-over beanpole of a god, clutching onto an ipad like he’s Gollum and it’s the One Ring. He kind of smells.

“Fuck. This is a bad time, Jade. Is it important?”

“Yeah,” says Jade. “There was this time capsule that looked like a lotus flower that we found in the frog temple, and inside there was this!” She holds out the folder.

“Dude,” says John. “What happened to you?”

“Hello again to you, too,” says the god sourly, taking the folder. “I’m at the end of a work cycle. Gimme a minute to reboot myself and I’ll be all better.”

You wonder when John had ever met the Mage of Doom, but Jade’s the one who replies.

“I don’t like it when you do that. It’s sad.”

“It’s the most efficient method of managing bodily needs,” snaps the Mage. “As we’ve gone over before.”

There’s something in the set of Jade’s jaw that makes it look like she’s up to actually argue with this weirdo, but Rose steps in instead. “Actually, we have some questions about the contents of the folder.”

“Yes. I imagine you would, after you all looked through it.” 

Aw, damn. He doesn’t look furious, though. Only slightly annoyed. He opens the folder and takes out the chart, scanning it swiftly. His expression is neutral.

“So, what does it mean?” John asks, finally.

The Mage peers at the lot of you, red and blue blinking in steady appraisal. Finally, he speaks. "I know that none of you have a strong background in physics, so I'll explain this in simple terms: By substituting real-number variables, what we might call 'real time' can be rotated through Minkowski space into a corresponding imaginary time (not because it is unreal, obviously, but because the real numbers have been substituted by imaginary numbers) and then —"

“Oh no,” groans Jade.

“Wow, what the fuck, was that English or like… Latin?” You’ve never heard of any of this shit.

“If it was Latin, I might have understood it,” comments Rose, looking a bit lost, herself.

“Time is… imaginary?” asks John warily.

The Mage grumbles. “Fine, let’s try again. Imagine that instead of three dimensions in space and one dimension in time, there were four spatial dimensions, one of which was merely timelike (and possibly seven hyperspatial dimensions, for the record, but these are curled up so tightly that you could only notice them if you were very small or very, very attentive, and perhaps one or two large extra dimensions —" 

This time, Jade nods along, but the rest of you protest again, still lost.

"You could at least wait to interrupt me until I had finished my parenthetical. The unbalanced parens is going to bother me all week. Anyway, now we know why the papers were addressed to me, then, and not a couple of fourteen-year-olds." 

"We're fifteen, actually," says Rose. 

"Shit, really? No wonder I thought the Callipoline Diplomacy Project was ahead of schedule." The Mage sighs, and flicks his yellow wings. “I appreciate you delivering this to me. Now, I need to go run some tests on the other image. But it was a pleasure as always, Jade.”

“Wait a minute,” John says. “What was with the other image? It was all fucked up!”

But he’s already gone.

“Ruff,” says Bec, and teleports all of you back to Jade’s garden. 

You kind of wish you knew what was going on.

⇒ Be Terezi

Notes:

Handwriting/Font assistance thanks to dualitysDownfall.

Spacetime theory thanks to Max Tegmark

Chapter 5: A Chaperone

Notes:

Special thanks to ambrosianLullaby and Sam Gabriel for invaluable CSS help!!

Chapter Text

  Josephine groans inwardly. Her shift was about to end-
I wonder if their car is as nice as mine, worries Abdul-
    Bassam wishes she were dead-
Stay with me, begs Daria, don’t go-
     Jacobo worries that the harvest isn’t going to be big enough-
Ken misses his mother so much, he wishes-
  Scott brags about the biggest fish he’d ever seen in-
  Magnolia will never forget this, long as she-
Tristan wonders if he remembered to lock the door-
    Margareta knows that one can ever see this-
     Tremon loves him so much, why can’t-
Randall is anxious, if they don’t let him have a bathroom break-
Della grasps for the next-
  Rihaab is pleading, please-
Adan knows that his dad’s gonna-
    Jimmie has to clean it up, he’s the only one-
  Lwanda promises that if Luz doesn’t pay their rent-
Maurice thinks guy’s crazy, what’s he even talking-
Bessie doesn’t know if she likes this one-
    Conrad hopes this thing still fits her-
  Tisa can’t believe she did that, doesn’t she realize-
Yang thinks this is the best movie he’s ever-
     Andronikos is stunned, what has he done-
   Yeah girl, thinks Cody, show it off-
  No, that looks terrible, despairs Navtej, what’s the command to enhance the-
      Grigore wonders where he put the remote, my favorite-
Asato wonders if she really mean we should order injunctions on each-
  Bryce wants him to more spice into it, really this shouldn’t be all that-
    Jala thinks it’s so cute, she’ll just snap a quick-
Maeva thinks he is pathetic, he can’t even bring himself to-
    Saluk wishes his mom would just lay off-
  Cassie is repeating to herself, knit one, purl two, knit one, purl-
      Liao is screaming in horror-
  It’s my fault, Kaatje says to herself, it’s all my fault-
Fran begs, please don’t, oh gods-
    I’ll get it one day, Glauco-
  Eric hopes it will look over-
Nick listens to his mantra-
Tammy wonders how she couldn’t be sexy enough to-
    Vinay considers that if he moves the pawn there, that puts the-
      My foot’s falling asleep, complains Jannie, why aren’t we done-
  Oh fuck, realizes Beorn, I’m dead-
    Penpa wonders how she ended up in this situation-
      How dare they blame me, Bibi thinks furiously, I’m-
Karmen wishes her daughter would just listen to her-
    Okay, Javad tries again, two times the square root of two-
A song is stuck in Sydney’s head. Moves like Jagger, moves like Jagger…
    Should I get the organic? wonders Penny. It’s cheaper to just-
My car! Marcel rages. Some fucker’s gonna pay for that!
  Well no way Vikas thinks he’s voting for-
    Roland knows they’re down 3 points but if the Grizzlies-
  He needs to pay more attention to me, thinks Lucila-
So disappointing, thinks Lan, I wish he would-
I’m not getting fat, wonders Dai, am I-
    She deserves it, thinks Mario furiously-

Your name is Terezi Pyrope, named by a Lusus who died so many sweeps ago that it is practically beyond reckoning, and for a sign you still hold close. You are incredibly old, but you’ve done enough time travel over the eons that you’re not sure how old exactly. Old as balls.

It is very difficult to explain what it’s like to be you, but you’ll give it a try. Imagine that, instead of having two eyes and two ears, you had no eyes and trillions of ears, each one sitting inside the head of a different person. Each of your ears faithfully listens in on the person’s innermost thoughts, every conscious impulse to go through their brain, and the sound of their thoughts reflects against their choices, like sonar, creating an echoing impression of every action they will ever choose to take. These echoes become fainter with temporal distance, but are never entirely gone. You simply trace the patterns in the noise, and then it all makes perfect sense. They all make sense. In your ability to model the behavior of others, and to process different thoughtlines in parallel, you are more powerful than any supercomputer made by mortal hands. It doesn’t matter where you are. You are a one-goddess panopticon.

Right now, your physical body resides in the cloister of a legal seminary in Japan. There, you are having a dinner of A5 Wagyu beef and shrimp rolls, kneeling on a cloth mat at your table. You are alone, having just finished consulting with the Judiciary Prior of the seminary. He did not receive your full attention – you are here only to maintain appearances for a few more months until the meteors begin to fall in earnest. This is an event that you anticipate – that you contemplate – with neither thrill nor dread. Against the iron decrees of Paradox Space there is only one choice available to anyone, even the gods themselves: whether or not to accept – to embrace – what is, will be, and always was. 

What takes up your attention right now is four teenage humans hanging out by a beachside bonfire on a tiny island in the remote south Pacific. You can’t see from their eyes or hear from their ears; that’s not how this works. Rather, you get the gist of what is happening from their thoughts: their reflections and responses and recollections of the world around them. From these you can piece together, more or less, what is happening.

John is doing better. He’s relieved to be away from you, away from his father, and to be able to pretend for a little while that he doesn’t have responsibilities waiting for him back at home. He enjoys the physical feeling of the tropical sea breeze and the sound of the waves. He thinks maybe he could live in a place like this. He’s grateful to have friends. He looks at the grubs and decides against them. It might be worth all of it, to be here, he thinks.

Rose is second-guessing everything. She doesn’t think Jade is capable of guile, but wonders if the entire vacation is a scheme. Of course, it is, but the layers are not nearly as complex as she imagines. She offers a joke and a clever observation, and they laugh. She makes a literary allusion, and they don’t get it, but chuckle awkwardly anyway. This is more endearing than annoying. She tries a grub and finds the texture strange. What does it all mean, she thinks. What is the goal, here?

Dave is struggling. He finds Jade attractive, and thinks he’d like to flirt more but also that it’s too awkward in front of the other two. It’s the sort of adolescent drama that bores you to fucking tears. Yet, from behind his shades, his eyes watch for attack, scanning all about. What a fascinating instinct. He’s freaked out about the grubs, but that’s just parochialism, and he’s trying not to show his uneasiness. Don’t blow it, he thinks. I have to be okay with this.

Jade is over the moon to have her friends over. She’s trying desperately to be a good hostess, and has put together, with Feferi’s help, some favorite foods for them to roast over the flames – puffed gelatin sweets, sliced pineapple and jackfruit and watermelon, calamari, halloumi cheese, and fresh witchetty grubs. She enjoys mixing and matching the sweet and savory, chatting up a storm, and throwing bits of roasted morsels to the First Guardian lying nearby. I wish this night could last forever, she thinks.

You’d think your reasons would be obvious. You’re trying to help them bond, encourage them to work together. Sburb won’t be successful if its players are strangers to each other. Everything you have been doing is in service to the Game.

That includes monitoring your fellow gods, whom you can keep track of just as you can mortals. Right now:

There are more instantiations of Aradia Megido at any time than you can easily track – at least several hundred million right now – and the clamor of their overlapping thoughts make her – them – impossible to read. 

Tavros Nitram is slippery. You still can read his thoughts - he is considering how to best liberate child soldiers in a distant galaxy - but what he will do next is always fuzzy and malleable. Frustrating.

Sollux Captor is poring over a delivery from the  future/past. The chart confirms some theories, but more interesting is the photograph of a  dissected horrorterror. Before running it by Feferi, he takes time for a hard corporeal reset.

Karkat Vantas is meeting with the Blood Fellowship on Abraxeum, a world that he finds ugly and overly damp, thinking about how to promote an underrepresented ethnic group within his lodges. He’ll figure it out.

Nepeta Leijon is… enjoying her night off from babysitting. You can’t exactly give her complete privacy – you aren’t capable of that – but she’s going to leave her lover tomorrow so it’s not all that important.

Kanaya Maryam is considering connecting two worlds that are in conflict, and whether it is wise to do so as a peace measure versus leaving a few worlds between as nodes. She’s going to decide to do it.

Vriska Serket is asleep, and free of conscious thought. You have never been able to hear dreams, but that hardly matters. You usually hear all about it once the sleepers awaken. 

Gamzee Makara’s thoughts are addled by an exotic combination of drugs, but he’s turning wistful and dangerously homesick. He’s thinking about Earth – about coming back to visit. You’ll need to pay close attention while he’s here. 

Eridan Ampora is tired of managing his Angels on Tathri’in, and just plain tired – he’s been working for three local days straight (twelve hours on Earth time). He’s thinking about resting. He’s going to decide against it. 

Feferi Peixes is monitoring her charge, as you are, and thinking about what a wonderful goddess Jade will turn out to be. You are less sure about that than she is, but also less invested.

There’s a lot going on. There always is.

Anyway, the Game. And its players – young humans – laughing at each other’s jokes and getting bits of marshmallow everywhere. None boast innate psychic powers. None of them have had to care for monsters that, in turn, cared for them. None of them have ever killed another human.

John is excited to tell Rose about Dave’s surrealist comic, as if she hadn’t heard of it already.

Rose already knows about the comic, and enjoys it, but is playing ignorant just to hear John’s excitement.

Dave is exaggerating his creative prowess of image manipulation – and trying, desperately, to come off as ironic.

Jade is thinking of referential jokes she can drop, to show that of course she reads Dave’s comic.

At first, you planned so carefully to mold them, like you molded the Earth, as they matured, but something went sideways, didn’t it? They aren’t nearly cutthroat enough, not by half.

John dares Dave to try a grub. 

Rose wonders whether Jade has ever questioned – let alone defied – the gods.

Dave dares John right back.

Jade lets the First Guardian lick melted candy off her fingers.

And you. You’ve grown soft too, haven’t you?

John suggests they eat the grubs synchronously.

Rose discusses the plentiful virtues of felines.

Dave suggests that John is a coward.

Jade waxes lyrical on the virtues of canines.

Part of the problem is that this attempt is the first of its kind. The Game has not been played before in this universe. This first try may well fail. You need to allow for that possibility, though you’ve tried so hard to avoid it. It’s also possible that, in doing so, you’ve relied too much on Aradia, the only being in this universe that is capable of concealing secrets from you.

John facetiously suggests that all the snacks are insect-derived, then throws a grub at Dave.

Rose says the boys are acting like toddlers. She speculates about their potentially Freudian arrested development.

Dave tries to shove a fistful of half-squished grub guts into John’s face.

Jade is confused. She always enjoyed trying new foods, and thought her friends would, too.

Time grows short. The children are growing older, and Sburb will be ready for launch in less than three months. But not all your efforts have failed.

John apologizes to Jade, recognizing that he has overstepped.

Rose sets a marshmallow on fire, just the way she likes it.

At Jade’s objections, Dave backs down uncharacteristically quickly, desiring to not upset her.

Jade says that Dave and John shouldn’t waste food. These were her favorite snacks.

Rose is doing well with Eridan, learning responsibility and detachment. Her loyalties will be torn, drawn as she is to secular humanist thinking, but you are sure that, in the end, she’ll come around to cooperation. Vriska’s moirallegiance will help. You wonder if Rose might share your aspect. Hard to tell, at this stage.

John asks Jade if she eats bugs because she lives all alone on an island without parents.

Rose comments lightly on cultural standards and culinary taboos, uninterested in pressing the issue further.

Dave comments that he didn’t have parents, but nobody ever made him eat bugs.

Jade thinks the boys are being dumb. She turns to Rose for backup, but is left dissatisfied.

Nepeta helps Dave to loosen up, as she has throughout his life, but there’s still a part of him that he keeps hidden, a vulnerable spot that even he doesn’t want to touch or think about. You know what it is, of course… but it was a good move to get rid of his guardian, in any event. Dave mostly lives in the moment, which is fine for now, but he’ll have to learn to plan and scheme eventually. Hopefully, it won’t be too late. You have a suspicion that his aspect may be Blood.

John suggests Jade’s perspective is too influenced by the goddess of life. He wonders aloud whether Feferi knows what “people food” is. 

Rose wishes, inwardly, that she had no parent, then feels guilty for it. Surely she has gained something from her mother… An appreciation for alone time?

Dave’s mind circles the thing he doesn’t let himself think about, then settles on gratitude: Nepeta only ever suggested making art with bugs, not eating them.

Lots of people eat bugs, Jade says. They’re tasty and nutritious. Parents have nothing to do with it. She wonders, silently, what parenthood would be like.

Jade is unwaveringly loyal, but you are concerned about her heightened level of empathy for and identification with lesser creatures. Such inclinations are not fatal for a god-to-be (Tavros is fair proof of that), but this will be a difficult journey for her. Still, you’ve made some helpful arrangements with Sollux to take care of her. Will her aspect be Life, like Feferi’s? Perhaps.

John would rather not force people to eat bugs. He feels sorry for Dave, but remembers your counsel to not closely inquire into familial situations.

Rose, paying more attention now, wonders how ascension really works. She has inquired about the process before, but neither Eridan nor Vriska have explained much. 

Dave riffs on insectivory, dropping rhymes about The Lion King, How to Eat Fried Worms, and – keeping current with the conversation – Philip K. Dick’s Exegesis. 

When Jade creates her own universe, she says, everyone will eat bugs, because the bugs will taste like chocolate, and then what, John, then what?

Then there’s John. Your stratagem, to socially bond him to his fellow players, seems to be working well. Yet… you can’t help but be more alert regarding his actions than those of the other children. His unexpected choices have previously thrown wrenches into your plans - thankfully not irreparably but… you are cautious. You can’t even predict his unpredictability. Part of you is irritated by this. Other parts, long-slumbering in the corners of your mind, have never felt more alive than when facing him.

John feels uneasy about having that much responsibility, because then he’d be blamed forever for how it turned out, good or bad. He considers whether it’s even possible to please all people, all the time.

Rose speculates that the universe will develop in unexpected ways after its creation. She cannot imagine that you gods customized every detail of existence. If you had, you would be even worse custodians of creation.

Dave doesn’t want to think about it, and tries to change the subject with a circuitous rant that references West Side Story, The Tale of Genji, the various names of quarks, and auto-erotic asphyxiation.

Jade doesn’t know any actionable details about ascension, but blithely assumes they will be able to customize the universe they’ll create. She desires to make a universe where the lines between human and beast are more blurred.

When Dave goes home tomorrow, he’ll first message Nepeta and tell her he had a fun time. He won’t bother to unpack his bags right away, but he’ll look through his photos. He’ll try to tamp down his emotions. His attention will linger on the pictures taken with Jade.

John thinks about the burden of responsibility, of the things you’ve tried to teach him, and wants to crawl out of his own skin.

Rose thinks about how much she still has to learn about morality and ethics before she could create and manage an entire universe of people.

For a brief moment, Dave thinks about Aradia, and his brother. All the same, he doesn’t think it would be all that terrible to be a god, to get to call the shots himself.

Jade thinks it will be wonderful to ascend, and become like the friendly gods and goddesses she knows so well. She just can’t wait!

When Rose leaves tomorrow, she’ll not be going home, but back to Eridan’s manor. At first she will be restless, experiencing an ache of separation that she is not accustomed to. Eridan will chide her and Vriska will give what comfort she can, until she is able to distract herself with her studies once more. 

Upon hearing Jade’s opinion, John falls silent. He thinks of chess and canes. He thinks the problems with godhood are obvious.

Upon hearing Jade’s opinion, Rose smiles and chuckles, but not genuinely. She wonders aloud whether Jade sees any downsides in godhood.

Upon hearing Jade’s opinion, Dave falls silent. He envies her ability to see every silver lining. To break the tension, he cracks an anatomically dubious joke.

Jade laughs. She assumes that Dave’s joke was because he was feeling mischievous, not because he was trying to derail the topic.

When John goes home tomorrow, his father will be waiting for him with an anxiety cake. Other than that… You aren’t sure! How exciting!

John considers outliving all friends and relatives, how easy it would be to accidentally hurt someone with all that power, and being held accountable for answering the prayers of an entire universe. He does not say any of this aloud.

Rose is hesitant to bring down the mood, so simply replies with encouraging platitudes. Her true thoughts on the matter hover close to despair. How can she be smart enough and good enough for this? How can she compare to Jade?

Dave thinks he knows the difference between right and wrong. He thinks he will know how to act when the time comes for action. His overconfidence masks terror. He’s smelled death before, and in his mind, godhood reeks of it.

Jade is sure it will be difficult, insists she is not naive to the challenges of divinity, since Fef and Sollux often tell her about their projects. But she feels up for the challenge, and is gnawing at the bit to start already.

When her friends go home tomorrow, Jade will feel a very familiar ache, one she knows the name of well. She will hug the First Guardian and smile at Feferi, then help clean up from the party like a good child. That night, she will cry quietly in the safety of her room.

But for now, the children on the beach try, in their limited understanding of each other, to comfort, to confide, to connect. Dave will reveal Rose’s moirallegiance with Vriska, information on which the other two will pounce; Jade with delight and John with incredulity. Rose will playfully interrogate Dave on the nature of his own relationship with Nepeta, putting him on the defensive. John will bring up Harold and Maude , and the conversation will off-ramp into a discussion of whether human concepts of age gaps are applicable to gods.

They will be up late into the night. They will be angry, happy, confused, sad. They will eat truly unconscionable quantities of marshmallows. Eventually, they will drag themselves back to Jade’s house, and sleep in their sandy clothes on Jade’s guest mattresses. In the late morning, they will wake and eat scrambled eggs that Jade will not tell them are from sea turtles.

They will go home, and your predictions will come true. All of them. The game will not end, and your efficacy as a player will not be diminished, just because some of your chess pieces – mostly John – occasionally make an incorrect move. Small errors can build up, it’s true, but he’s going to leave this universe before any butterflies get to flap up a storm.

You finish your sushi at your leisure. You have this well in hand.

=> Be Future Jade

Chapter 6: Epilogue: A Treasure Hunt

Chapter Text

Your name is Jade Harley. Jade, for the color of your eyes, and Harley, inherited from a grandfather who you just met, again, a decade after his tragic death at sea. You are sixteen years old.

You had a good cry after he left with Aradia, then went through the teleporters to get your adventuring gear. Grandpa gave you the coordinates to a place where he’d hidden a box, probably some kind of heirloom or helpful device inside. You’re not going to disappoint him, and you don’t have much time to spare — you are going to ascend to godhood in just a few days after all — so you need to head out right away!

It’s a beautiful day in Libra. You pause a moment at the doorway to the grassy knoll on which your home stands to appreciate the sea breeze and the sunshine and the calls of birds. It’ll be up to you and your friends to recreate this once you’re all gods.

Heart beating fast and breath full of purpose, you check the straps of your pack, then set off to find your grandfather’s buried treasure.


There’s a small clearing in the jungle. You never would have looked at it twice, if you hadn’t known something was here. Yet as you stand at the spot, you can’t help but notice that the ground looks recently disturbed. You would have written it off as Bec burying a treat or toy for later — he does that a lot, the silly boy— but…this is the spot. Grandpa’s spot. Why does it look like someone dug here recently? Like, sometime in the past day, recently. The soil has been patted down, deliberately, in an attempt to hide the disturbance, but it’s — it’s such a sloppy job. You don’t know what to make of this.

Well, might as well see if there’s anything there. You take the collapsible shovel out of your pack and get to digging. The soil is soft and easy to spade out, until your shovel hits something hard. 

Wow, it’s still here? You clear the soft soil away from the object with your hands, revealing a small wooden chest, a bit smaller than a breadbox. There’s no lock. Breathing hard, you open it.

Inside the box are two antique flintlock pistols, in perfect condition.

What? Guns? Why would Grandpa leave you these? It doesn’t make any sense.

You frown. Something here is wrong. You don’t understand. You sit down on a nearby tree root, considering. Your grandpa, in his last few remaining moments with you, made certain you would find these weapons. But he knew you had a rifle. He knew what a good shot you are, since you demonstrated for him on your shooting range, while he was here. But why would he be so desperate for you to have these guns in particular?

You inspect the guns. No bullets, no powder. Nothing in the barrel or the pan.

And, if your eyes are not lying to you, if someone went to the trouble of digging up this box before you got here, why didn’t they take the guns? Why did they put them back and fill in the hole and try to hide the evidence?

Who else would even know the box was here?

You feel cold. You don’t like it. There are only a few people in this universe who could know what your grandfather told you earlier today. They’re all gods.

You look at the pistols. You take a deep, shuddering breath. In. Out.

The pistols go into your pack. After a moment, you add the box, too.

The sun is low on the horizon by the time you return home. Fef is waiting. “Did you find what you were looking for?” she asks.

You smile for her. “Yep!” you reply. “Grandpa left me these old guns as heirlooms! I’ll put them in my room.”

You start to leave for the teleporter, but Fef calls to you. “Jade,” she says. “Before you go… I have a gift for you as well.”

“Oh?” you turn to face her.

The goddess nods, and smiles at you. The sharp points on her teeth have never bothered you, no more than Bec’s do. “Oh, Jade,” she says. “I’m so proud of how you behaved with J- with your grandfather, today. You’ll do amazing things in the Game, I just wish I could be there to see them.” She holds out her hand, and dangles a small, drawstring bag. “Someone else can, though.”

You take the bag, and open it. Inside are a set of small, yellowed human teeth.

“Uh, Fef? Are these my baby teeth?”

Fef’s smile doesn’t change, but her eyes turn sad. “Not yours. They’re for the kernelsprite, but try not to use them until the second prototyping, after you enter the Medium. You’ll see why.”

“Thank you.” You know she means well.

That night, your mind is spinning too fast for sleep to come. You don’t think it was Fef who dug up the box. And if it was Aradia, she would have done it ages ago, and not left any marks of her presence. Who else would have done it? And why? Just to make sure what your Grandpa left was safe? Did they not trust him?

“Wuf.” It’s Bec. He teleported silently into your room, maybe sensing your disquiet.

You reach over and tangle a hand in his fur. “Good boy,” you whisper. “Best friend.” He’s a good dog. You trust him completely.

But you’re starting to question, for the first time, who else you can trust.

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