Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Your name is Dave Strider, and you are Sort Of Freaking Out.

You never expected the SBaHJ movies to get popular.  Not really.  The original animated version of The Moive was a creative project you made in your spare time to keep from going insane as a teenager thrust into the tail end of an intergalactic war.  SBaHJ had already been growing in popularity as the world’s top webcomic in an era where people longed for escapism as surreal as the alien warfare surrounding them, but when you had posted The Moive instead of that week’s strip, you had expected the die-hard fans to really enjoy it, and the casuals to take one look and decide to wait for the next comic.

But here you are, three movies and a peace treaty later, and somehow you’re still making these things.  And people are loving it.  It had only taken one look at The Moive’s popularity for a studio to start forking out the moolah to turn it into real movies.  With fucking actors and theatres and everything.  They didn’t care that it was terrible, only that it was popular.  

And somehow despite all that popularity, not once has anyone bothered to really look at the themes of the SBaHJ oeuvre.  People see flashing lights and stupid bullshit and revel in the invitation to turn their brains off for a couple of hours.  Even Rose missed it, instead getting bogged down in her analysis of your passion for only sharing your worst works with the world, while concealing your more serious creative pursuits for fear of rejection.  And like, sure, on one level she was right.  But even she hasn’t bothered to look deeper and see the serious creative decisions you’ve poured into SBaHJ over the years.  Nobody has.

Until now.

Until some random troll you liked to fuck with had subjected himself to watching your fourth film, under extreme duress.  

You hadn’t been able to resist responding, as stupid as it was.  Having a secret personal account is a blessing; an easy way to avoid the internet hordes and dick around the way you always have without attracting all the eyes now attached to the Dave Strider brand.  Only your closest friends know who turntechGodhead is, and you intend to keep it that way.  Dave Strider definitely shouldn’t have anything to do with turntechGodhead, and definitely shouldn’t be interacting with TG’s favourite troll to fuck with.

But here you are, feeling shellshocked and lightheaded as your fingers still rest on the keys, slowly processing everything you just read over the last two hours, fifteen minutes, and forty seconds.  Everything about your life’s work is different now.  It’s not just that one person figured it out.  You’ve confirmed it publicly now, in one idiotic, impulsive moment of needing to be seen, a feeling you’ve never had before in your life.  The amount of fame you’ve acrued is uncomfortable as it is, and that was when people just thought you were some shithead ruining and/or improving cinema.  Now you’re going to be painted as some kind of revolutionary auteur, and the scrutiny that’s no doubt going to follow is going to be worse than ever.

You are so fucked.

-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB]--

TG: bro i fucked up bad
TG: real bad
TG: i fucked up so bad up doesnt even wanna cuddle
TG: its out of bed to go finish itself off in the bathroom
TG: leaving me sitting there in horny shame listening to it moan some other guys name
TG: not even pretending to just be taking a piss
TG: it wants me to know just how bad i fucked it
TG: up i mean
TG: because i fucked up
TG: badly
EB: oh jeez, what did you do?
TG: look at my tumblr dude
TG: not the incognito one the official one
EB: woah
EB: woah what?????  is this for real?
TG: unfortunately yeah surprise
TG: sbahj was never dumb bullshit after all
TG: i mean it was
TG: but like dumb bullshit with meanings and stuff
TG: cant believe it took some fucking douchebag troll to figure it out
TG: and i couldnt keep my idiot mouth closed and now im fucked
TG: the press is gonna be insufferable
TG: ROSE is gonna be insufferable
TG: fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck
EB: damn dude
EB: i can’t believe all this stuff was like, actually on purpose!
EB: i mean, i know you do things for creative reasons or whatever, but it is pretty surreal that you hid basically a whole secret movie inside your movie!
EB: are they all like that?
TG: yes dude they are all like that ill give you the whole strider cinematic universe loredump once im done having this crisis
TG: which it would be really cool to focus on first
EB: right!  of course, sorry!  
EB: so, what are you gonna do now?
TG: i dont even fucking know
TG: i can not stress enough how little i thought this through
TG: just charged on in there dick first
TG: fuck my phone is blowing up my agent is gonna kill me
TG: theyre gonna make me do interviews
TG: interviews john.  interviews.
EB: damn dude, well you know if you ever need to hide from the press you are welcome to come hang with me!!!!!
EB: i’ll be honest though, my mind is still a little bit blown!  why didn’t you tell anyone you were doing that?
TG: i dunno i wanted to be subtle and shit
TG: get my feelings about the war out without rose dragging me in to chop my brain up for spare parts you know
TG: maybe spread some subliminal messaging or whatever
TG: not in a creepy hypnotist way though
TG: all wavin their watch in front of some guy’s face 
TG: you are getting very sleeeeeeepy
TG: and then they make the guy take his pants off and fart the national anthem or whatever
TG: although that does sound like something that would happen in sbahj
TG: not the point
TG: point is more like i was trying to put in people’s heads like
TG: hey look how dumb all this bullshit is
TG: who knows if it worked
TG: but yeah thats whats up
EB: damn dude
EB: sorry i can’t be more comforting i guess!  this is just gonna be awkward for a while i think!
TG: i cant believe of all people it was fucking carcinogeneticist
TG: car cat
TG: whatever
TG: the asshole who makes fun of all your movies and takes like 0 prompting to fly into a hilarious rage
TG: of all fucking people how did he see it
EB: i dunno! 
TG: fuck okay my agent has called me five times while we’ve been talking i gotta take this
TG: brb

-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] --

You talk to your agent.  Unfortunately.  She is... understandably simultaneously pissed that you pulled such a big stunt without warning her and delighted at the attention it’s going to bring to The Movovie’s actual cinematic release.  She is lining up an onslaught of new interviews, and a single glance at your updated google calendar is enough to have your head spinning.  So much for getting a moment to clear your head before the premiere.  Your days quickly begin to blend into one another; switching from suit to suit, interview to interview, discomfort to discomfort.  

You do your best not to let it show, more relieved than ever that Dave Strider’s public persona has always been a relatively chilly guy.  Dave Strider, Director is the coolkid that Dave Strider, Regular Guy always used to want people to think he was.  You can get away with one word answers and joking to dodge the more difficult questions, and it all just feels like part of the mystique of your personal brand.  And all the interviews and appearances do serve a purpose; you are legitimately too busy to answer any of Rose’s many prying questions, or the long walls of orange text you’ve been receiving from Dirk, who is by far the most pissed of anybody about not having gotten it.

But in the middle of all the noise and chaos, there’s been one distraction gnawing at your mind, keeping you from paying your full attention to calming down the shitstorm you’ve kicked up.  This guy.  carcinoGeneticist.  How did some random troll sift through all the bullshit you shrouded your deepest thoughts in and dig out the nugget of realness so easily?

And how did this troll in particular manage it?  You’re not obsessed, you’re not obsessed, but you’ve spent every free second scrolling back through his entire Grumblr blog, picking through the walls of caps-lock rants with a fervor you never did when all you wanted to do was mess with this guy for messing with John.  It doesn’t make any fucking god damn sense.  When it comes to movies, he seems to have two modes; mocking everything Earth has ever produced, and gushing over the most incomprehensible romcoms you’ve ever heard of.  And Dane Cook, weirdly.

You’re not quite willing to stoop to watching Dane Cook movies in order to understand this guy better, but after reading a review that was equal parts confusing and baffling, you find yourself tempted by one of the unnecessarily verbose troll movies he’s been going on about.  You lost interest in the movie’s summary of itself about two sentences into the title, but the way carcinoGeneticist goes on about it does actually make it sound interesting.  Or bad enough to be entertaining, at least.

You can’t find a version of the movie anywhere with an English dub, but you can track one down with subtitles at least.  You really ought to actually learn some Alternian at some point, but every troll you’ve ever interacted with seems to speak English, so you’ve never bothered.  American exceptionalism, you suppose.  Damn.

You’re less than ten minutes into the movie before you need someone to talk about this shit with.  You’ve never been great at sitting through movies without commenting on them, and this thing is just so far outside of your experience.  You need to ramble.

And you can only think of one person who would actually know what you’re rambling about.

-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] --

TG: holy shit dude
TG: im watching 
TG: fuck what was it
TG: “in which a yellow chick pretends to be a juggalo so she can date a racist”?
CG: YOU MEAN “IN WHICH A MUSTARDBLOOD ATTEMPTS TO DISGUISE HERSELF AS A SUBJUGGLATOR IN ORDER TO ADEQUATELY CHALLENGE A CASTE-CONSCIOUS BLUEBLOOD AS A KISMESIS.  DURING A COURTSHIP STRIFE THE MUSTARDBLOOD IS INJURED, BUT TO HER SURPRISE HER BLUEBLOOD INTENDED IS SO INCENSED BY THE LACK OF RESPECT FOR THE CASTE SYSTEM THAT SHE IMMEDIATELY ACCEPTS THE MUSTARDBLOOD AS HER KISMESIS.  THE PAIR PROCEED TO CONTINUE TO ATTEMPT TO HIDE THE MUSTARDBLOOD’S CASTE FROM THE OTHER SUBJUGGLATORS IN ORDER TO AVOID HER CULLING, AIDED BY THE MUSTARDBLOOD’S CERULEAN MOIRAIL.  CONTAINS SCENES OF MODERATE VIOLENCE, TWENTY FOUR USES OF CASTE-BASED SLURS, ONE EXPLICIT BLACKROM PAILING, AND TWO SCENES WHICH COULD BE CONSIDERED BLACK-PALE VACILLATION, AND BORDER ON PALE INFIDELITY.”?
TG: jesus christ how did you just remember that off the top of your head
TG: anyway yes that one
TG: saw your review and had to check this shit out
TG: cant say i understand shit of whats happening but its incredible
TG: why is the yellow chick so scared of spaceships
CG: IT’S A PRE-REVOLUTIONARY FILM.  MUSTARDBLOODS WITH HER PSIONIC ABILITIES WERE CONSCRIPTED TO SERVE AS HELMSMEN IN THE CONDESCE’S BATTLEFLEET.
CG: PURSUING HASNET PERHID ISN’T ONLY A ROMANTIC IDEAL BUT A REBELLION AGAINST THE CASTE SYSTEM ITSELF AND THE ROLE IT WANTS TO FORCE HER INTO.
CG: HASNET IS OBSESSED WITH HER PLACE IN SOCIETY AS A BLUEBLOOD AND KHUSSA’S INFERIOR PLACE ON THE HEMOSPECTRUM WOULD MAKE A BLUEBLOOD SEE HER AS AN INFERIOR CALIGNIOUS MATCH, HOWEVER WELL-MATCHED THEY MAY ACTUALLY BE.
CG: BUT POSITIONING HERSELF AS A SUBJUGGLATOR PUTS KHUSSA *ABOVE* HASNET IN SOCIETY AND FLIPS THE DYNAMIC.
CG: IT FORCES HASNET TO SEE BEYOND HER PREJUDICES.
CG: IT’S BEAUTIFUL AND ROMANTIC.
CG: YOU TASTELESS FUCK.
TG: damn lol
TG: im definitely missing the cultural context to really appreciate this thing
CG: NO SHIT.
CG: ALSO WHY ARE YOU TALKING TO ME?
TG: cause im watching your hella crazy trollmance movie and i dont have anyone else to talk to about it
TG: damn that sounded sad
TG: i mean i dont know anyone else who’s actually seen it
TG: so they wouldnt appreciate my epic and cutting commentary on your crazy violent romantic slop
CG: SO YOU DECIDE TO REWARD ME FOR DIRECTING YOU TOWARDS SUPERIOR CINEMA BY TORTURING ME WITH YOUR INANE COMMENTARY?
TG: bingo baby
CG: WAIT, HOW DID YOU EVEN FIND THAT REVIEW?  I POSTED THAT LIKE A SWEEP AGO.
TG: oh weird
TG: anyway
TG: hey why do juggalos outrank like fucking everyone in your society that doesnt seem right

You have fun somehow, watching the most bizarre movie you’ve ever seen in your life.  Things that hit you as hilarious are somehow perfectly normal to all of the characters involved, and a level of violence that’s near-sickening and brings back some deeply unpleasant memories is played entirely for laughs.  Or, in one case; in an extremely horny way.  You know the basics of trolls whole “quadrant” thing, but watching it actually play out is... definitely an experience.  At some point CG actually must start watching alongside you, as he stops only remarking on your remarks, and starts pointing out more specific details about things going on on-screen.  You’ve tumbled into some kind of intergalactic movie night with the most annoying troll you’ve ever encountered, and it’s somehow the most enjoyable evening you’ve had in a long time.

CG – Karkat – is delightfully easy to wind up, and once he’s going, he’s going.  It’s almost more entertaining than the movie.  That is, until you ask when the two moirails are going to get it on, and then it’s much more entertaining than the movie.  Somehow his tirades are actually endearing, in a one-on-one setting.  This isn’t some kind of asshole persona he’s conjured up for Internet Points, the dude is really just Like This, and it’s the most fun you’ve ever had watching a movie with someone else.  He’s not annoyed at you for rambling, he’s annoyed at you for rambling wrong, and proceeding to ramble just as badly himself in the process.  The two of you together would get kicked out of any cinema in five minutes, guaranteed.  You kind of never want to watch another movie without him.

But all funny bullshit must come to an end, and before long the spaceship the fake juggalo tried to steal with her mind powers is being chased into the moonset by real juggalos, and the credits have begun to play.  So, that’s that.

TG: so thats that huh
CG: IF BY “so thats that huh” YOU MEAN; “WOW, THANK YOU SO MUCH KARKAT FOR OPENING MY EYES TO THIS MASTERPIECE.  WHAT AN EXCELLENT INTRODUCTION TO THE STORIED AND EXTENSIVE CULTURAL TRADITION THAT IS TROLL CINEMA.  MY PERSPECTIVE HAS BEEN BROADENED AND I CAN’T WAIT TO APPRECIATE MORE OF THE CLASSIC WORKS OF ALTERNIA’S GREATEST DIRECTORS!”
CG: THEN YOU’RE FUCKING WELCOME.
TG: wow you took the words right out of my mouth
TG: howd you know
CG: FUCK YOU.
TG: ok fine you can pick for our next movie night babe
TG: i picked a bad troll movie so you pick a bad human movie
TG: schoolfeed me how superior your culture is by comparison
TG: consider me your schoolhungry grub
CG: GROSS.
CG: ALSO FUCK YOU.
CG: I’LL LET YOU KNOW.
TG: tight

-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] --

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Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you know exactly where your life went wrong.

It had been a mistake, rising to TG’s bait.  You knew that at the time, of course, but you had hoped if you at least half paid attention to the stupid “movovie” enough to post some kind of passably informed review of just exactly how trash it was, he might get off your back.  Let you go back to relentlessly demolishing humanity’s cinematic history in peace.

But no, somehow you had managed to be the only genius depraved enough to actually understand the mind of the imbecilic fucksponge who made these things.  And naturally you had to go and run your big, stupid mouth about it.  Granted, you never really expected it to be such a big deal.  Sure, nobody else had noticed at the time, but it was just a movie.  And now you’re getting calls from news stations, Feferi has had to make a statement about your blog, and Eridan of all people has had to get your back with highbloods, stamping out some of the more caste-ist rumblings that you’re a traitor whispering in Feferi’s ear to poison her - something you haven’t heard since the treaty was being negotiated, a process you were very deliberately excluded from.  (That had been all Feferi and Terezi, despite multiple tantrums from nosier members of your group.  Vriska was the hardest to exclude, but eventually even she had been convinced that a person with mind control powers maybe shouldn’t be involved in such delicate intergalactic politics.)

But here you are, back in that glaring red spotlight, all because you couldn’t keep your idiotic squawk blister shut about the shittiest movie ever made.  You haven’t even looked at your e-mail in days, the thing flooded with inane requests for comment from the most dribblingly lurid of tabloids.  Olive Weekly is insistent that your tirades against Dave Strider come from a place of black flirting, and the thought makes your guts twist in ways you really don't want to examine right now.

So you’ve turned off all publicly available messaging services, switched all your blog notifications to mutuals only so you won’t see the thousands of nookwipes clamoring for attention in the comments, and will be pretending you don’t know what e-mail is for at least the rest of the dark season.  Hopefully this will all blow over within that time.

The only messaging system you’re actually keeping up with is Trollian, and that’s mainly because it’s how the friends who are as usual picking up your shit with regards to intergalactic diplomacy prefer to contact you.  And, for some reason, the bulgelick who got you into this situation in the first place.

You don’t really know how Movie Mornings With TG evolved, but it’s become almost a daily thing at this point.  Pathetic, maybe, but you welcome the distraction of just shooting the shit with someone who seems to care substantially less about your new status than everyone else.  He just wants to watch terrible movies with someone willing to creatively tear them apart, and there’s something comforting to that.  A couple of hours a day where you can just forget that you’re at the center of an intergalactic cultural incident, and just be an asshole, hanging out like normal with some douchebag you met online.

CG: THIS IS A TRAVESTY.
CG: I CAN NOT *FATHOM* WHY THIS *MONSTROSITY* IS SO POPULAR WITH HUMANS.
CG: I THOUGHT IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A MOVIE FOR WRIGGLERS!  
CG: I THOUGHT HUMAN WRIGGLER MEDIA WAS SUPPOSED TO BE LESS VIOLENT THAN OURS!
TG: oh shit dude i know what happened lol
TG: you got the wrong lindsay lohan twin movie
TG: you were looking for the parent trap
TG: not i know who killed me
TG: lmao
TG: bro this movie is notoriously one of the worst pieces of shit ever made
TG: theres not a single human defending this garbage
TG: it won awards for being so trash
CG: OH.
CG: WELL SOMEHOW IT’S LESS FUN TO SHIT ON IF HUMANS ALSO KNOW IT’S TRASH.
TG: gotta say im surprised dude you usually love trash
TG: good luck chuck was nominated for razzies too
TG: lost out to this one actually
CG: WELL THAT GOES TO SHOW JUST HOW FUCKING APOCALYPTICALLY TERRIBLE THIS MOVIE WAS.
CG: MAYBE THERE’S HOPE FOR HUMANITY LEFT, IF YOU WERE AT LEAST ABLE TO TELL THAT *THIS* MOVIE WAS UNWATCHABLE GARBAGE.
TG: karkat thats the nicest thing youve ever said to me
TG: im blushing

Thankfully, you’re distracted from TG’s nauseating attempt to fluster you by a message from a far more welcome source.  Working together on the mother grub's care has had you and Kanaya spending a lot of time together and recently things have begun escalating to pretty blatant pale flirting, but you’re too cluckbeastshit to just outright ask her where you stand.  You’ve never been certain if her exclusive interest in females is confined to the concupiscent quadrants or extends to the conciliatory ones as well, and... well, you don’t want to assume.  But the other day, when you had been on a real tear about a particularly invasive e-mail, you were stopped mid-rant by the feeling of her touchstubs in your hair.  It only lasted moments, the barest of brushes, but your scalp had tingled for hours afterwards and you felt near-giddy with the small thrill that came of physical affection.  It’s been a long time since things with Gamzee fell apart, and you still feel a small spark in your bloodpusher just thinking about the touch.

-- grimAuxiliatrix [GA] began trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG] --

GA: Karkat I Know You Have Been Avoiding Your Inbox And For Good Reason But A Situation Has Arisen Of Which You Should Be Made Aware
GA: Having Failed To Catch Your Attention An Invitation Has Been Extended To You Via Myself
GA: And To Myself As Well I Suspect As Bribery To Convince You To Go
CG: WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS ABOUT.
GA: I Have Just Received An E Mail Inviting The Two Of Us To Attend The Red Carpet Premiere Of The Sweet Bro And Hella Jeff Movovie About Which All Of This Hubub Has Been Raised
GA: A Red Carpet Premiere Karkat
CG: OH FUCK
CG: ON A SCALE OF ONE TO FUCKING INFINITY HOW DESPERATELY DO YOU WANT TO CONVINCE ME TO GO AND BRING YOU?
GA: I Must Confess That The Answer Is Rather Close To Infinity
GA: It May Also Prove A Useful Diplomatic Tool
GA: I Have Already Spoken To Feferi And She Agrees
GA: Making A Showing On The Red Carpet Would Do A Great Deal To Assuage Human Fears That There May Be Retaliation For Striders “Digs” At Troll Culture
GA: Feferi Has Arranged For A Diplomatic Visa For One Human Week For The Two Of Us
GA: We Would Have Time To See The Sights
GA: As Well As Attend A Human Red Carpet Premiere
CG: FUCK.
CG: THE LAST THING I FUCKING WANT IS *MORE* ATTENTION OVER THIS!
CG: ALL I WANTED WAS A STUPID BLOG, WHERE I COULD HAPPILY AND QUIETLY POST MY STUPID FUCKING BULLSHIT MOVIE REVIEWS!  BUT APPARENTLY I CAN’T EVEN HAVE THAT WITHOUT IT SOMEHOW BECOMING AN INTERGALACTIC FUCKING INCIDENT!
CG: IS THERE EVEN ANY POINT ARGUING?  IT SOUNDS LIKE YOU AND FEFERI HAVE ALREADY MADE MY FUCKING MIND UP FOR ME.
CG: JUST TELL ME HOW OVER-THE-TOP THE OUTFIT YOU’RE DESIGNING FOR ME IS, SO I KNOW HOW HARD TO SAY I’M ABSOLUTELY NOT FUCKING WEARING IT.
GA: I Promise It Is Very Tasteful
CG: FUCK.

-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased trolling grimAuxiliatrix [GA] --

Damn it.  You could never refuse her anything she’s so excited about, and you both know it.  Even if it means going all the way to a different galaxy.  Even if it means getting dressed up and standing around in front of hundreds of cameras.  Even if it involves meeting Dave Strider.  Kanaya is so excited for this, and just the thought is like a little swoop of warm fuzzies.  She deserves it.  She deserves the world.  And maybe – just maybe, this trip might be an opportunity to figure things out.  No doubt you’ll be close together, dealing with stressful circumstances.  In any good romcom, these circumstances would have the two trolls tangled tight in a pile discussing their feelings within a day, and you feel your cheeks heat slightly just at the thought of it.  Yes, there are definitely advantages to going.

There are significant disadvantages though, and the thought of Dave Strider in his douchey shades and his douchey suits and his douchey personality sends a shiver down your spine.  In a bad way.  But not like that!  You shouldn’t let the possibility of filling one quadrant on this trip lead your mind to wander thinking about the others.  Besides, as compelling as a mind that would come up with a nutbeast-based code for imperial troop movements is, it’s a revulsed fascination.  Not a concupiscent one. Olive Weekly has just been getting into your pan.

While you’ve been consigning yourself to a fate comparable to spending the next week being repeatedly disembowelled, TG has been entertaining himself in your absence.

TG: gettin all heated up in my flusternuggets
TG: outright flushed here in my facial bloodlumps
TG: oh shit is that why you call it flushed
TG: some kinda mating display where you get your cheeks all red at each other
TG: or all rainbow
TG: hey how come you dont type in color like other trolls do
TG: you got gray blood or something
TG: when youre all flushy for someone do you just get grayer
TG: straight up monochromatic in this bitch
TG: lookin on me with my lascivious cherry cheeks all disgusted like
TG: how dare you
TG: get those lurid jowlbulbs out of my sight
TG: in my accidental display of inappropriately colorful blushglands ive accidentally triggered a storm of spades hatecrush
TG: we proceed on to a vacillating rivalmance for the ages 
TG: they couldnt make this shit up
TG: fuck sbahj the new blockbuster sensation of the sweep is here
TG: in which an outrageously sexy human chadlord accidentally initiates an epic bromance-turned-romance-turned-hatemance-turned-romance-turned-hatemance-turned-hatemance-turned-romance-turned-bromance with a lurid display of oral colorbumps
TG: contains explicit violence explicit macking and explicit broing down
TG: id watch it
TG: hell of a movie night
TG: hey
TG: karkat
TG: did i kill you
TG: did you die
TG: of sorrow
TG: because that movie isnt real and we cant watch it
TG: karkat
TG: karkat
TG: karkat
CG: I DON’T EVEN HAVE THE TIME TO TELL YOU JUST HOW INAPPROPRIATE ALL OF THAT FILTH WAS.  YOU’RE WORSE THAN THE PERVERTS WHO WROTE IWTCBGTDARJBITRHTTBCBADBHIBAIATJBIEWFOWGTCHITFQ ETC ETC ETC
CG: CAN YOU KEEP A SECRET.
TG: what
TG: yes
TG: a thousand percent
TG: you dont even know how many secrets ive got up in here
TG: my hairs full of em
TG: secrets i mean
TG: man we should watch mean girls youd fucking love it
TG: after we watch whatever that keysmash you just sent is
TG: whats the secret though
CG: STOP FUCKING BLATHERING.
CG: I’M ONLY TELLING YOU BECAUSE I NEED TO FREAK OUT, AND YOU’RE SOMEHOW THE ONLY PERSON WHO HASN’T BEEN WEIRD ABOUT ALL THE ATTENTION I’M GETTING FOR THIS WHOLE SHITTING REVIEW THING.
CG: SO CONGRATULATIONS, YOU SOMEHOW STUMBLED YOUR WORTHLESS ASS INTO THE ROLE OF TEMPORARY CONFIDANTE.
CG: AND I SAY TEMPORARY BECAUSE THIS WILL BE *INTERPLANETARY NEWS* IN A FEW FUCKING DAYS!  BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT MY LIFE IS NOW!
CG: THEY WANT ME AT THE FUCKING PREMIERE.  OF THE MOVIE.  MOVOVIE.  FUCK.
CG: ON EARTH.
TG: fuck for real
TG: damn thats crazy
TG: rubbing elbows with the greats huh
TG: maybe youll even get to meet dave strider
CG: UNFORTUNATELY LIKELY.
CG: I KEEP GETTING REQUESTS TO DO SOME KIND OF JOINT INTERVIEW THING WITH HIM FROM DIFFERENT TABLOIDS AND WHOEVER ELSE.  
CG: I’VE BEEN AVOIDING IT LIKE THE PLAGUE, BECAUSE I’D RATHER TEAR OUT MY SHAME BLADDER AND SHOVE IT UP MY SEEDFLAP THAN TALK TO THAT DOUCHEBAG.
CG: BUT NOW I GUESS I’M FUCKED ON THAT FRONT TOO.
TG: man i swear you have to be making up some of this dumb troll anatomy
TG: but hey maybe it doesnt have to be a bad thing
TG: maybe dave strider is like a chill guy or something
TG: maybe youll be friends
CG: MAYBE!  AND MAYBE YOUR HUMAN SANTA CLAUS WILL COME DOWN FROM THE SKY AND MAKE OUT WITH YOUR HUMAN JESUS RIGHT THERE ON THE RED CARPET, BECAUSE THAT SEEMS EXACTLY AS LIKELY AS ME GETTING ALONG WITH THAT RAMPAGING PUSTULE ON THE FACE OF HUMAN CINEMA!
TG: damn dude getting me all hot and bothered thinking bout santa and jesus sloppy makeouts
CG: I AM FREAKING OUT, TG.  THIS IS WORST-CASE.
CG: I HAVE TO MEET THAT FREAK.  ON A RED CARPET.  IN FRONT OF PEOPLE.
CG: I HAVE TO WEAR A SUIT AND BE IN PHOTOGRAPHS.
CG: I HAVE TO SOMEHOW REPRESENT MY ENTIRE FUCKING SPECIES AND *NOT* LOSE MY COOL IN FRONT OF THOUSANDS OF YOU GORMLESS FUCKS!
CG: I HAVE TO MAINTAIN A LEVEL OF ALOOFNESS SO THAT THE TROLLS WATCHING DON’T THINK I’VE BEEN A HUMAN TRAITOR ALL ALONG!
CG: WHICH WAS ACTUALLY A PRETTY FUCKING DIFFICULT THING TO CONVINCE THEM OF, FOR REASONS THAT ARE NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS!
CG: I AM ***FUCKED***!
TG: damn ok
TG: thats pretty serious yeah
TG: in that case im breaking out the big guns
TG: im callin it dude
TG: double movie night
TG: were watching mean girls
CG: WHY WOULD A HUMAN MOVIE ABOUT CRUEL FEMALES CHEER ME UP
TG: just trust me okay this will be so exactly your shit its embarrassing
TG: i can already hear the rants about regina and janices kissytube

Earth.  A whole different planet, in a whole different galaxy to Alternia.  It only took a couple of transportalizer hops and here you are, flashing the ambassadorial visa Feferi gave you, and being shown from the secure facility into a secure wheeled scuttlebuggy, to take you to your secure hotel.  You feel like a wriggler whose Lusus is too protective to let them play “who can hit each other with the biggest stick?” with the other children.

You somehow manage to forget that everything on Earth happens during the daytime until you leave the building, slapping a hand over your ganderbulbs and cringing from the sun’s rays instinctively.  It’s only when you hear Kanaya make a small joyful chirr that you take a peek, softening slightly at the sight of her enjoying the sun on her skin.  

“It’s not nearly as intense as I’m used to, but it’s quite refreshing not being the only one out in the day.”  She smiles as she looks back at you, and you’re struck all at once by a deep wave of feelings.  You see her shining in the sun all alone in her lawnring, knowing she’ll never share these moments with anyone she loves.  

The thought is enough to propel you forwards, out of the safety of the building’s shelter and into the sun, into sunlight for the first time in your life.  It feels strange – warm without burning, though even after uncovering them you’re having trouble doing much more than squinting your ganderbulbs.  “How can you see like this?”  You ask, having made it an entire thirty seconds without complaining.  “It’s so bright out.  I almost understand why certain douchebag humans are so married to their hideous “shades”.”

Her smile is so warm that you can’t quite help smiling back.  Before you even know it she’s reaching for you, and her hand brushes softly over your hair again, and your bloodpusher aches with pity and affection.  It’s inappropriate – outright indecent with your human guards around – but you reach up, just for a moment, and touch her hand with your own.

Her smile glows brighter than even Alternia’s sun ever has.

Your hotel suite is ludicrously extravagant, and you can’t help wondering whether this is Feferi’s idea of diplomatic digs, or something Strider set up to flex on you.  When you test out the ablution trap and discover the delicious array of cleanseliquids available to you, you mentally thank Feferi for the fact that you now smell like a blend of what must be some kind of delicious Earth spices.  When you look out the (enormous) windows and realise you have a perfect view of the bulb-searing neon sopor trip that can only be the SBaHJ production studio, you curse Strider for making you witness a physical manifestation of his atrocities.  As if it’s not bad enough that you’ll be spending the evening in a shrine to his lack of taste, you can’t even enjoy the view without him polluting it.

You and Kanaya haven’t talked about the moment you shared yet, but the conversation starters you’ve been mentally rehearsing all through your ablutions disintegrate in a second when you return to the shared recreation block.  She’s clearly taken care of her own ablutions, wrapped in a robe that looks almost painfully fluffy, and she’s halfway to your block, with... something under her arm.

“Oh, there you are!”  She says, unnervingly cheerful as she hands over the long, flat bag.  “It’s not my most creative work, I had to get these done on very short notice of course, but I think it’ll be perfect.  Appropriately formal for a red carpet and very stylish by current human trends, but nothing so gaudy as to go outside your comfort zone.”

Fuck.  “Oh.  Thanks.”  You haven't given a single thought to what you're going to wear to this thing, trusting Kanaya to take charge in her area of expertise, and you know she definitely wouldn’t want to show up with someone in the same turtleneck and jeans he wore eating grubchips on the loungeplank while having his ass kicked by Sollux at Command of Drones.  Your nerves stand on end as you look through the bag’s transparent side, relieved to at least not see any sign of anything glittering or lacy.  So far so good.

“I’m going to go get changed, call me if you need any help.”  She smiles, and she’s gone before you can ask any follow-up questions.  Great.

It’s... not nearly as bad as it could have been, actually.  She meant it when she said she wasn’t going outside your comfort zone.  (Though you do immediately ignore the small red-lined cape she’s tucked in there.  Not a chance.)  It’s mostly a more elegant version of what you usually wear – a well-fitted black velvet turtleneck with your sign tastefully embroidered over the bloodpusher, and what you assume must be human-stylish trousers.  The waist feels ridiculously high and the legs ridiculously wide, with impossibly neat creases along the front and back.  Combined with a pair of shiny black shoes, when you look at yourself in the mirror, you almost see someone impressive.  Someone who wouldn’t jut out like a sore frond on a real red carpet.  Which is where you’re going.  Fuck.

It hardly takes you any time to get ready so you return to the recblock and flick through the human tv channels, just taking in what it’s like to watch human tv the normal way.  On a tv you can channel surf on.  On Earth.

You’ve just started getting invested in an episode of some obscenely trashy show about wealthy hive-matesprits when Kanaya emerges from her respiteblock, tranformed beyond belief.  She’s always been beautiful – so beautiful it’s almost annoying – but dressed like this she is so obviously in her element that you can’t quite hold in a small gasp.  Her gown is sparkly, but she looks like she was hatched to wear sparkles.  Her symbol is emblazoned large on the front, with an opening in the middle to display a frankly risqué amount of rumblesphere.  Drapes of sheer fabric cover the upper half of each arm and hang down well below her hips, where they brush against the long, trailing skirt, slit all the way up to the hip on one side but full enough to only reveal tasteful peeks of leg.  She is stunning.

“Wow...”  You say softly, lost for words for a second, then shake yourself out of it.  “You don’t need me to get in.  Show up dressed like that and they’d have to let you in even without a pass.”

She smiles sweetly and fusses with her sleeve-drapes for a moment before crossing the room, gesturing for you to stand up.  “How does this fit?  I had to make some assumptions about your measurements, but I’m fairly sure it should be fine.”  Her hands are on you again but firmer this time, straightening your collar and tugging at your waistband, pulling it even higher on your torso.

“Are these supposed to come right up over my grubscars?”  You ask with an accompanying chirrup as she yanks on something near your torso pillar, the thick waistband pulling you in even tighter.  You kind of like the pulled in waist, even if you’d never admit it.  It’s almost feminine, makes you feel tough in the way that seems to come so naturally to female trolls.  You definitely need that kind of strength to get through tonight.

“It’s the height of human fashion.  I’ve been studying their formal events closely, to ensure we would rise appropriately to the dress code.”  Apparently satisfied with the proportions she’s cinched you into, Kanaya steps back, suddenly looking bashful at having put her hands all over you so thoughtlessly.  “You look perfect.  Understated elegance.  Though I do think the cape would pull it together...”  She adds wistfully, and the thoughts you’ve been turning over all day finally make their way to the front of the queue to your squawk blister.

“What are we?”  You blurt out, trying and failing to act confident as you reach out and actually take her hand, touch-stumps trembling as you lace them with hers.  “I mean, um, when... when they introduce us at this thing, should... it just be as friends, or-?”

Her smile could melt the frozen wastes as she squeezes your hand.  “I had... hoped it would be as moirails.”  She says softly, and you feel your face curve into a perfect mirror of hers.  “If you would like that...”

“Of course I would.”  Your pusher is racing, and you wish your stupid hands weren’t so stupid sweaty as you reach up to touch her cheek.  She doesn’t seem to mind, leaning in to the touch for a moment before stroking your hair in turn, and you feel like you could melt.  You feel safe, something you never expected to feel on another planet, halfway across the universe, surrounded by aliens.  

It isn’t long before stroking turns into fussing, and you let your hand drop as Kanaya finesses your snarls of hair into something she eventually seems to deem ‘good enough’.  With that done she gives you a painfully warm smile, linking her arm with yours effortlessly.  “Shall we go?”

Although nodding feels like you’ve agreed to attend your own execution, you just can’t be entirely mad with her by your side, trilling cheerfully on the way to the exit.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Your name is Dave Strider and it doesn’t matter how many times you do this shit, red carpets continue to be the fucking worst.

You give silent thanks that nobody can see you squinting or outright closing your eyes behind your shades as the camera flashes assault your already sensitive vision.  Rose has your arm tightly linked with hers and is helping to guide you down the carpet, making sure you stop and start at the appropriate intervals to have your picture taken by a seemingly neverending stream of assholes.  It’s a dance you wish you had a lot less practice at.

You make sure to catch up with Roxy and Dirk for a family photo though, as well as somehow managing to corral John and Jade for a couple of photos with your best friends.  (Dirk makes himself very scarce when he realises that Jade’s brought her cousin along for the ride, and you give silent thanks that you’re going to be much too busy to deal with that whole mess tonight.)

You get a few pictures with Ben, Owen, and Donald too, which quickly turns into a competition to see who can make the stupidest pose.  (Owen eventually runs away with it when an attempted handstand turns into kicking a hole in the backdrop and tearing his pants.)  With that done you link up with Rose again quickly, eager to get inside and away from all the shouting and flashing, somewhere you can take off the cool guy mask and just sit with your eyes and ears covered for a few minutes until you feel even slightly human again.

But there’s one more obstacle in the way, one you hadn’t even considered.  You’d had word just this morning that Karkat had accepted your invitation to the premiere - which was an interesting way to discover that you had invited him to the premiere - and now here he is in front of you, and it’s obvious that people are desperate for photos of the show of intergalactic peace that you’ve been lassoed into.

And man, there he is.  He’s somehow taller than you expected, only a little shorter than your own 6’2” frame, but the woman he’s with towers over the both of you as a reminder of how much taller most trolls are than humans.  So, Napoleon complex confirmed.  He’s broader than you are though, and stands like he doesn’t know what to do with himself.  From what you can see of his face through your squint he looks furious to be here, and it’s so endearing you feel your cheeks tug into a smirk before you even know it.  Rose is effortlessly subtle as she leads you over to him before stepping aside with Karkat’s guest, leaving the two of you facing one another for the first time.

“Fuck you for making me do this.”  Karkat grumbles, and man, there’s something rumbly and hitched to troll accents that really does it for you.  Damn it.  You swallow quickly and give what you hope comes across as a cocky laugh.  

“I didn’t even know you were coming.  My people must have set it up.  That’s the disadvantage of having people, man, they just do stuff.”  The sneer that answers your words actually sends a spike of worry through you for a second, and you touch him on the shoulder.

“Hey man, symbols of intergalactic peace, remember.  Try not to look like you wanna kill me in front of the ravenous hordes.”  You get a huff out of him at that one that you hope is laughter, and turn side-on to him, closing your eyes in the face of the wall of cameras.  It’s a bit of a dick move but you can’t quite resist leaning one arm on his shoulder, grinning broadly as you bring your head to rest atop your wrist.  You can’t see what his face is doing but the sound he’s making is all kinds of horrified, and his body is stiff as a board.  He smells like cinnamon and aniseed up close, and you kinda don’t care how pissed off he is with Dave Strider right now. You've always enjoyed your conversations online a bit more than is strictly platonic, but man there is something about this guy's physical presence that is really doing it for you.

But then the photo-op is done and you feel Rose’s arm link with yours again, leading you finally, finally away from the photographers and into the security of the theatre’s foyer.  It’s still crowded and noisy, but you can at least open your eyes and greet people as you pass through, shaking a few hands and dishing out a couple of high fives to the industry elite on your way through the crowd, to the private room waiting for you.

Dirk’s already been and gone, you can tell – he must have snuck through here when Jake showed up to take the chance to rest his own eyes and dodge his ex simultaneously.  Rose turns the light off as she leaves, and you are alone, in the dark, and it’s never felt so good.

You take a moment to just sit there with your own company as your eyes recover and your ears stop ringing, before the inevitable curiosity gets the better of you and you can’t resist pulling out your phone.  You mean to just make a douchebag post or two and skim the hashtag on a few different social media sites to see how the photos are coming out, but just a couple of scrolls deep you get a very unexpected Pesterchum notification.

-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling turntechGodhead [TG] --

CG: I’M DEAD.
CG: I’VE DIED AND THE DARK CARNIVAL HAS SENT ME STRAIGHT TO HELL’S PIT.
CG: IS THIS SOME KIND OF TRIAL?  A GAUNTLET YOUR CELEBRITIES HAVE TO ENDURE TO BE CONSIDERED WORTHY OF THEIR FAME?
CG: I DIDN’T THINK THAT WAS THE WAY HUMANS DID THINGS, BUT CLEARLY I WAS MISTAKEN.
CG: THE CARPETS ARE RED WITH THE BLOOD OF FALLEN SOCIALITES, IT MAKES PERFECT SENSE NOW.
TG: oh dude youre at the premiere right
TG: hows it going
TG: whats dave strider like
TG: is he tall
TG: is he handsome
TG: what does he smell like
TG: can you steal me some of his hair
CG: SHUT UP RIGHT NOW.
CG: STOP DRIBBLING YOUR HIDEOUS WORD SLUDGE.
CG: I DON’T KNOW WHY YOU NEED TO VOICE EVERY SINGLE THOUGHT THAT OOZES OUT OF YOUR IDIOCY BLADDER, BUT IT’S REALLY NOT HELPING RIGHT NOW.
CG: I’M IN A CROWD OF HUMANS AND I’VE LOST MY MOIRAIL AND SHE ISN’T ANSWERING HER PALMHUSK.
CG: I NEED HUMAN ADVICE.
CG: NAMELY: HOW THE FUCK DO I GET OUT OF A CROWD OF HUMANS.

You blanch slightly at the thought – crowds of humans are bad enough when you’re also a human, but there’s no doubt people are paying real close attention to the first troll they’ve ever seen.  You’ve gotten to know Karkat well enough to know that he’s not the kind of dude to feel at ease in the spotlight, and there’s a lot of pressure on all of you for this to go well.  You can’t imagine where would be important enough for his moirail to fuck off to, but you need to get him out of there before anything happens.

It’s a diplomatic responsibility.  That’s all.  TG would be rescuing him as a friend, but right now you’re Dave Strider, and Dave Strider would rescue him for purely impersonal reasons.  You tell yourself that, while trying to figure out a way to even make that happen.

TG: well shit
TG: listen if theres one thing big crowds of humans hate its little narrow staircases with keep out signs
TG: if you see a little narrow staircase with a keep out sign and hustle your walk cylinders right over there people will assume youre allowed and they arent
TG: should be enough to give you some space to breathe at least
CG: OKAY I SEE IT.
CG: THIS IS A REALLY CONVENIENT FEATURE TO BUILD INTO ALL YOUR ARCHITECTURE.
CG: A FREAKOUT CORRIDOR.
TG: yeah dude we love our human freakout corridors
TG: got em everywhere
TG: get your plush ass down to the conveniently provided freakout corridor and chillax until youre feeling calmer
TG: or until your moray eel texts you back
CG: GOT IT.
CG: THANKS.

-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased trolling turntechGodhead [TG] --

Okay, cool.  So, he’s coming this way.  You can handle this.  You can handle this like Dave Strider, Famous Douchebag, who has nothing to do with turntechGodhead, Chill Guy, Karkat’s Best Human Friend.  No stress.

You wait what you hope is an appropriate amount of time for Karkat to cross the lobby and make his way down the quiet hallway your private room is off before you open the door, pretending you were just heading out to get a glass of wine or something.  Thankfully he’s there, and you do your best to keep your relief off Strider’s usual pokerface.

“Hey, Karkles.”  You greet him, giving an easy smirk.  “If you wanted to get me alone, all you had to do was ask.”

He growls, and you don’t think about how that makes you feel.  “Fuck the fuck off, Strider.  My pan feels like it’s going to explode from all the noise and lights, the last thing I need is you charging in to hit the button and blow my nub to smithereens.  Just leave me alone and let me catch my fucking breath in the freakout corridor, so I can go and track down my runaway moirail.”

As much as you enjoy a casual flirt with your best alien bro, you hadn’t been even remotely prepared for how you would react to him in the flesh.  Sure, troll accents and mannerisms are hot on screen, but there’s something just slightly uncanny valley about how he moves, and it’s fascinating.  Not to mention what that rumble in his chest is doing to you.  Against your better judgement, you step back and hold the door wider.  “It’s quiet in here, come in for a moment.  No funny business.”  You can’t quite resist adding with a cocky smirk, and to your relief it doesn’t put him off.

Karkat gives a small, low sigh as he enters your private room, tension in his shoulders un-knotting, and you close the door behind him, doing your best to be as Extremely Normal as possible.  Yep.  Normal.  You can totally handle this, normalstyle.  So normal that the world's most average motherfucker would look over and say "damn that dude makes me look like a weirdo by comparison".  That normal.

“Why the fuck are you sitting around in the dark?”  He grumbles after a moment, slumping into a chair and fussing with the waistband of his stupidly high pants.  You wish you thought they looked dumb, but there’s a Harry Styles quality you can’t quite be mad at, even though Karkat bears absolutely no resemblance to the pop star in any other way shape or form.

“I’ve got really sensitive eyes, dude.”  You can’t hold it back, even after spending years avoiding letting the public know.  “It’s why I wear the shades.  I always need to sit in the dark for a while to recover from all those fucking camera flashes.”

“Oh.”  He looks... almost contrite?  You didn’t think he was quite capable of that.  It strikes you that he’s never interacted with or even really thought of Dave Strider as a real person before – he’s a cardboard cutout just like he is to everyone else – a vessel to idolise... or loathe, in Karkat’s case.  But this is new to him.  TG is a person.  Dave Strider isn't.  “Well, you would fucking hate the sun on Alternia then.”

You chuckle, surprised at the remark, and drop back into your own seat.  “Pretty sure I would hate a lot of things on Alternia.”  You smirk, glad that he can’t see your eyes as you study him.  He’s so handsome, you’re almost mad about it.  Is this what all the stupid blackrom movies are about?

Karkat snorts again, and makes this strange buzzing trill noise at the same time, from somewhere deep in his chest.  You need to hear that noise again.

Unfortunately, he’s not interested in more conversation.  He pulls out the most bizarre cellphone you’ve ever seen in your life and falls silent, claws clacking slightly against its surface.  You’re surprised when a moment later a familiar handle pops up on your own phone.

-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling turntechGodhead [TG] --

CG: UGH.
CG: YOUR ADVICE ALMOST WORKED, BUT NOW I’M EVEN MORE FUCKED.
CG: STRIDER FOUND ME FUCKING *SOMEHOW*, AND NOW I’M ALONE IN HIS PRIVATE ROOM WITH HIM.
CG: HE WAS JUST SITTING HERE IN THE DARK LIKE A FREAK.
TG: oh shit youre with the big man himself
TG: dont know which one of you im more jealous of
TG: you should make out with him
TG: ask if i can have a pair of his underwear
CG: ABSOLUTELY NOT, YOU DISGUSTING FUCK.
CG: HE’S SHUT THE FUCK UP, AT LEAST.  I HAD EXPECTED SOMEONE SO TALENTED AT PUKING ALL OVER THE SCREEN WOULD BE EQUALLY INCLINED TO PUKE WORD-VOMIT ALL OVER NEARBY VICTIMS.
TG: aw dont worry baby you still have me for that
CG: I HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA WHY I EVEN TROLLED YOU.  FUCK OFF.
TG: damn now striders gonna be jealous youre hateflirting with some other guy right in front of him

You’re distracted from the familiar comfort of riling Karkat up by another message alert, and it answers a whole lot of your concerns all at once.

-- tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] --

TT: Dave, we have a situation, in which I must admit my own culpability.
TT: After leaving you to your respite I struck up a rather fascinating conversation with Karkat’s plus-one, Kanaya.  We’ve had a couple of polite interactions online, and I had been hoping for the chance to get to know her better.
TT: However, our discussion led us to a quiet seat, and somewhere in the throng we must have lost Karkat.
TT: Kanaya is quite upset, she feels an intense duty to keep him safe during such a stressful event.
TT: Any resources you can offer to ensure he’s found as quickly as possible would be a great relief.
TG: jesus i cant believe youre such a big lesbian it almost caused an intergalactic incident
TG: karkat is fine dw
TG: were in my private room he needed a spot to chillax for a moment
TG: hes just sitting there on his phone he was flipping out a bit at first but hes fine now
TG: just sitting there quietly hating me
TG: my charms are working perfectly
TT: Thank you.  We’ll be right there.
TT: Do try to keep it in your pants.
TG: no promises dog

-- tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] --

You look up at Karkat, still frowning deeply into his weird alien phone.  “That was Rose.”  His head snaps up abruptly as you break the silence.  “She’s with, uh...”  You glance down at your phone, knowing you should really have learned this in advance. “...Kanaya.  They’re on their way.”

He nods and makes a few clicking noises in the back of his throat.  (Are they involuntary?  Your head is spinning with possibilities.)  “Yeah, Kanaya just messaged me to say the same.”  He rumbles, failing not to let on just how relieved he is. 

You nod in return, clickless.  “Cool.”  As silence falls again, you flip back to your other chat window.

CG: I WOULD RATHER BE FISTFUCKED IN THE DISGUST NODULES THAN HATEFLIRT WITH EITHER OF YOU
CG: FUCK SORRY FOR VANISHING, KANAYA *FINALLY* ANSWERED MY MESSAGES, SHE GOT DISTRACTED BY A *GIRL*.  I’M SURROUNDED BY THE WORLD’S HORNIEST IDIOTS.
CG: SHE’S COMING TO RESCUE ME FROM STRIDER, THANK FUCK.
TG: congrats
TG: hey whats up with you saying horny anyway
TG: do your horns get bigger when youre boned up or what
TG: like the only horn we got is the one in our pants know what im sayin
TG: but you got like actual horns
TG: whats up with that
CG: IF THIS TURNS INTO ANOTHER ATTEMPT TO DISCUSS THE LEWDER PARTS OF OUR ANATOMICAL DIFFERENCES I WILL FIND WHERE YOU ARE AND SHIT ON EVERYTHING YOU LOVE.
CG: I’M ON THE SAME PLANET NOW, THE THREAT IS MUCH LESS EMPTY.
TG: damn ok
TG: ill learn about the flapbeasts and buzznuggets someday

The comforting rhythm of familiar bickering is interrupted by your door opening, Karkat’s moirail entering the room in a rush of green and sequins.  She’s clinging to Karkat and they’ve switched languages, growling, clicking, and rumbling in a way you recognise well from movies, but can’t distinguish any words in for the life of you.  Aliens, man.  Aliens.  Her hands are in his hair, fussing and soothing, and his are stroking slow circles on her shoulders.  You’ve seen enough films to know that this is outrageous PDA between moirails, and it’s not something you’d expect from Karkat.

The culture really must be rubbing off on you, because it flusters you enough to actually look away.  Rose is still standing in the doorway, and you make a beeline for the familiar company of your sister.  “So, got a thing for trolls, huh?”  You murmur, careful not to tease her loud enough for the trolls to hear over the buzzing and trills of their own conversation.  She swats you on the arm a little harder than is sporting, then gives the spot an apologetic rub when she sees you bristle instinctively, hand dropping to the sword that isn't on your hip anymore.  Hasn't been for years.

“Sorry.”  She says quickly, before moving on with a shake of her head.  “And it’s not trolls, she’s just... a fascinating person.  I was enjoying the opportunity to get to know one another properly.”  Unlike you Rose doesn’t seem to have any qualms about observing the intimate display of conciliatory soothing, and before you’re even really thinking about it you’re pulling her back out into the freakout corridor.

“Give them a minute.  That’s, uh...”  You clear your throat, feeling your cheeks heat a bit.  “They’re doing, like, the moirail equivalent of making out, basically.  Didn’t take them for the PDA sort, but I guess being separated on an alien planet would freak anybody out.”

You can see Rose’s curiosity rising to near-unbearable levels at the revelation that she had been witnessing something so uniquely alien, but she restrains herself to responding with a nod.  “Those movies have been good for your cultural sensitivity.”  She says with a knowing smirk.  “Perhaps I ought to ask Kanaya to watch some with me, while she’s here.  Or recommend some literature, instead.  I do find the whole premise of “rainbow-drinkers” quite intriguing...”

You roll your eyes, swatting her on the arm partly in teasing and partly in forgiveness for earlier.  “Keep it in your pants, Lalonde.  They’re only here for a week.”

Her protests are cut off by Karkat and Kanaya joining you in the hallway, clearly a little flustered by their displays of affection.  Their fingers are still laced tight though, and you bite back an impulse to take Karkat’s other hand.  You are so fucked.

“Sorry about that.”  Karkat grumbles, and there’s a slight trill to his voice that wasn’t there before.  You wonder what it means.  “Unsettling situation.”

Kanaya nods, her voice softer and buzzier than Karkat’s low rumble.  “This whole experience has been.... disorientating, to say the least, and it was distressing to be separated.  We appreciate the privacy.”

You give her a nod of acknowledgement, and behind your shades your eyes slip to glance at Rose’s flustered expression.  “It’s cool.”  You say, linking arms with your twin and wondering what it looks like to the two of them.  “Can’t blame you needing a moment to prepare before witnessing one of my masterpieces.”

Karkat groans, clearly having forgotten why he was here in all the noise and chaos.  “Cull me.  Do I really have to sit through that technicolor visual enema again?  I survived the carpet gauntlet, can’t I just stay in this fucking room until it’s over?”  He rumbles something additional to Kanaya, and she clicks and chirps a few times in response.

“I’m rather looking forward to it, actually.  I must admit I’ve never seen any of your films before, and I’m quite curious to see if I pick up on the messaging and symbolism that stood out to Karkat on his first watch.”  There’s a slight quirk to her lip, and whatever the two of them shared, she’s clearly teasing him for it now.  He rumbles again, but she doesn’t pay it any mind.

“I’m curious to hear your takes on it.”  Rose doesn’t take her eye off Kanaya as the four of you begin making your way back to the lobby, some more willingly than others.  You tune out the flirting as it becomes more blatant, sharing a long-suffering glance with Karkat at one point, but then the pair of them are shown to their seats, you’re shown to yours, and before long the culmination of the last few years of work melts away all the stress of the day.

It’s late.  It’s ridiculously late, and you’ve had a couple too many at the afterparty.  (Rose was preoccupied enough with Kanaya that you didn’t have to worry about keeping her away from the bar, so you cut loose a little.  You’ve earned it.)  You’ve just collapsed into bed when you see your phone’s screen light up on your bedside table and despite your need to sleep you can’t quite resist the urge to pick it up, especially once you see who the message is from.

-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling turntechGodhead [TG] --

CG: I’M GOING TO SAY SOME NICE THINGS FOR A SECOND, DON’T SHIT YOURSELF.
CG: I WANTED TO THANK YOU, FOR TODAY.  THIS IS HARDER THAN I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE, AND IT REALLY HELPS, HAVING A HUMAN I CAN ASK FOR ADVICE.  
CG: I KNEW YOU WERE ALIENS, BUT IT’S EASY TO UNDERESTIMATE ONLINE.  I’M GALAXIES AWAY FROM HOME, SURROUNDED BY PEOPLE WHO MAKE NO SENSE TO ME, IN A SITUATION THAT I DON’T HAVE THE FIRST IDEA HOW TO HANDLE.  IT’S INTENSE.
CG: SO THANK YOU, FOR SOMEHOW MANAGING TO BE THE ONLY MEMBER OF YOUR SPECIES I CAN TOLERATE.
TG: dude im touched
TG: i love you too
CG: SHUT YOUR SQUAWK BLISTER, I ALREADY REGRET BEING NICE TO YOU.
CG: I ACTUALLY MESSAGED FOR A REASON THOUGH.
CG: I’M HERE FOR A WEEK, AND FEFERI WANTS US DOING STUPID PRESS MEETINGS AND WHATEVER ELSE, BUT SHE LEFT US SOME RECREATION TIME ON THE SCHEDULE.  TO SEE THE WONDERS OF EARTH OR SOME BULLSHIT.
CG: BUT I WAS WONDERING
CG: FUCK
CG: I MEAN, WE’RE NOT EXACTLY GOING TO BE ON THE SAME PLANET AGAIN ANY TIME SOON.
CG: I THOUGHT IT MIGHT BE NICE TO DO A MOVIE MORNING IN PERSON?
CG: OR MOVIE NIGHT, I SUPPOSE.  THOUGH THAT SOUNDS STUPID.  IT DOESN’T EVEN ALLITERATE.
CG: WHATEVER, IT’S NOT LIKE THE TIME MATTERS.

Fuck.

TG: shit dude id love to do a movie night but im in texas
CG: WHAT’S TEXAS?
CG: IS THAT ONE OF YOUR MOONS?
TG: dude youre full of shit
TG: youve watched plenty of our fucking movies you know about texas
TG: look its just a long way away from la is all
CG: YES BECAUSE A DIFFERENT LOCATION ON THE SAME PLANET IS GOING TO BE SUCH A LONG JOURNEY FOR A GUY WHO TRANSPORTALIZED HERE FROM FUCKING SPACE.
CG: WHERE IS HUMAN TEXAS?
CG: I’M SURE I CAN TRANSPORTALIZE THERE.

Fuck.

TG: no can do dude
TG: i guess i gotta let you in on my secret
TG: im fugly
TG: ive been catfishing you all along 
TG: cant let you cast your gazeorbs on this hellacious mug
TG: ive got a reputation as a suave and sexual motherfucker to maintain
CG: THAT MAKES NO SENSE.  I DON’T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK FISH HAVE TO DO WITH IT, BUT WHY WOULD I CARE WHAT YOU LOOK LIKE?
CG: I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU LOOK LIKE.
CG: YOU’VE NEVER EVEN TOLD ME YOUR NAME.
CG: WHY HAVE YOU NEVER TOLD ME YOUR NAME?  I JUST CALL YOU TG IN MY HEAD.
CG: WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR NAME?
TG: you got me lol its tg
TG: nah its lame
TG: doug smith
TG: see boring lame ass name
TG: been hiding it in shame cause theres motherfuckers out there like dave strider with outrageously sicknasty cool names
CG: WHY WOULD I HAVE ANY OPINIONS ON THE COOLNESS/LAMENESS OF YOUR HUMAN NAMES?
CG: DOUG SMITH IS FINE.
CG: REMINDS ME OF DUXEE MYTTEE FROM IWARBAASDFAUCWCPTT ETC ETC ETC
TG: the purple douchebag?
CG: THE PURPLE DOUCHEBAG.
CG: SO REALLY NO MOVIE MORNING?
TG: no can do
TG: sorry bro 
CG: OH.

FUCK.

CG: NO.
CG: THATS COOL.
CG: WHATEVER.
CG: MAYBE NEXT TIME I TRAVEL ALL THE WAY ACROSS THE FUCKING UNIVERSE WE CAN HANG.
CG: “get our bro on” OR WHATEVER.
CG: NO ONCE-IN-A-LIFETIME OPPORTUNITIES ON OFFER HERE.
TG: idk what to say dude
TG: im sorry
TG: i just cant

-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] has ceased trolling turntechGodhead [TG] --

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you are in hell.

That’s the only explanation.  At some point you died, and the Dark Carnival sent you rocketing right down into something far worse than fire and brimstone, because there’s no other circumstances in which it makes sense for your life to wind up here.  A woefully underprepared human is doing a terrible job of concealing both her fear of you and the bags under your eyes, stammering apologetically about not having any troll-appropriate cosmetics.  Apparently products don’t adhere to your skin the same way.  Which – whatever.

Kanaya is standing to the side looking profoundly judgemental of your dreadful mishmash of a makeover, and as you glance over you spot another worried looking human with a clipboard enter the room, open their mouth to speak, and trail off entirely at the sight of Kanaya towering over them, all grey skin and sweeping fabric.  

“You... um.... you’re needed on set, Mr. Vantas...”  The clipboard human stammers, and the makeup human looks overwhelmingly relieved to take their hands off you, standing well aside as you escape the torture device they call a makeup chair, and follow the clipboard human towards what might as well be the gallows.

The block is garishly lit, though not quite as bad as the red carpet the night before.  There are just about as many cameras though, all pointed threateningly at a desk and loungeplank which you’re fairly sure is going to be the site of your impending death.  You’re thankful that at least the rows of seats behind the cameras are empty.  The show has eschewed its usual live audience for security reasons – whether that’s for your benefit or the audience’s, you’re not sure.  You had never expected humans to be quite this jumpy around trolls, and it’s a strangely comforting reflection of just how uncomfortable you feel.

A suited human with the biggest, whitest teeth you’ve ever seen on this planet looks up from his notes, beaming at you with every single one of them as he makes his way over. 

“Karkat!”  The man is far too loud and trying far too had to be affable, and you stare at his extended hand for a long moment before remembering this is a thing humans do sometimes.  So much platonic touching, and you have no idea what kind is appropriate in these circumstances.  You pat his hand uncertainly, and you can tell from his expression that you’ve gotten that one wrong.  Great start.

“So great to have you here!”  The confusion disappears in an instant as the man lowers his hand, smile ratcheting even wider.  You almost want to bare your own teeth – this man is getting beyond grin territory into something closer to a threat.  “Now, I’ll be going fairly easy on you today, so there’s nothing to worry about.  All of our questions have been vetted and approved by diplomatic officials on both sides, we’re not here to throw you any big surprises.  All you have to do is relax and be yourself, and this whole thing will be a breeze, got it?”

Yourself.  Perfect.  Absolutely the worst thing to be in these circumstances, no problem.  You’ve never had any kind of media training – Feferi did a lot to keep you out of the press entirely throughout the peace talks, and while you’re absolutely certain that had been the right call in the moment, you desperately wish that somewhere in there you had managed to squeeze in some preparation for what’s happening now.

But the host whose name you’ve already forgotten is still grinning, so you do your best to grin back and nod, jaw clenched and tight as you answer.  “A breeze.  Yes.”  You nod again, and the man laughs as if you’ve told a joke.

“Fantastic!  Great, well, have a seat!  We’re just waiting for Strider, and we’ll get straight into it.”  He pats you on the shoulder and you fail not to flinch, scuttling away to the loungeplank in embarrassment as he goes back to his notes.  You glance helplessly at Kanaya, and you can see her hands clenching and unclenching with the instinct to stroke your hair and cheeks until you settle.  Just seeing her is a balm, and you manage to relax your grimace and unclench your hands, bringing one of them up to cover your eyes from the searing stage lights.  It’s almost peaceful if you can ignore the chatter and scurrying of humans readying themselves to record.  Almost.

“Theeeeeeeere he is!”  The host’s voice somehow manages to get even louder, and you begrudgingly uncover your eyes just in time to see Strider effortlessly grabbing the man’s hand and pulling him into a ridiculously over the top arm clench/back pat combo move.  Did the host expect you to know how to do that?!  You’ve seen it in movies, of course, but more and more you’re realising you have so little context for what those movies are actually portraying.  How do humans keep all these different platonic touches straight?

They’re chatting now, and then Strider’s shades are pointed at you.  Fuck.

And then they aren’t?  He looks around the room and huffs slightly.  “Dude, look, I know you’ve gotta make it look good for TV, but trolls are nocturnal.  Their eyes are mad sensitive.  Can we get some mood lighting up in this bitch, in the name of cultural respect?”

Your jaw slackens slightly as he speaks, and as the humans begin bustling around and tweaking settings and adjusting the lights to something much more bearable, you can’t take your eyes off him.  Apparently done with the host, Strider crosses the room and drops onto the loungeplank next to you with a soft huff.  He looks far more normal when he’s not wearing a bright red suit that looks like it was made for a magician for wrigglers, but there’s still something so closed off about him.

Even when he smirks at you it doesn’t feel real, and you flinch away slightly when he nudges you with his elbow.  “Benefits the both of us, bro.”  He says in an undertone, and somehow it sounds simultaneously like he’s letting you in on a secret and like he knows something you don’t.

“Yes, you told me about your stupid sensitive eyes.”  You grumble, doing the decency of keeping your voice down enough to avoid the other humans hearing.  “I didn’t realise asking them to turn down the lights was an option.”

He laughs, and it's nothing like you would have expected him to.  It’s not the small chuff of amusement you’ve heard him do in public – it’s a real laugh, with some strange twang to it, and it seems to bubble out of him from a completely different place than the stony exterior.  

“Dude, anything’s an option if you’re the coolest guy in the room.”  He’s not even trying to keep the smile – an actual smile – off his face now, and you’ve never been more conflicted about a person.  You had idly played with thoughts of sizing him up for some kind of holiday blackrom fling, but somehow in person Strider seems to constantly vacillate between being the world’s biggest douchebag and a fairly likeable guy.  One you might almost consider becoming “bros” with.

“I mean, you and Kanaya are the only aliens on this fucking planet, whatever you want you get.”  He carries on, lounging comfortably against the back of the sofa, and his gaze turns to your moirail for a second, giving her an odd little two fingered wave in greeting.  You look over almost guiltily as you realise Kanaya has seen all of this take place, and she can read you like noone else.  She looks amused, and you’re almost dreading that conversation more than this interview.

“My sister is super into her, by the way.”  Strider continues to ramble, drawing your attention back to himself.  “Wouldn’t shut up about how stimulating their discussion last night was, which, gross.  I know it’s not a thing or whatever on Alternia, but man, I do not wanna hear about what gets my sister horned up.”

You pull a face, shaking your head quickly.  “Not something I want to think about my moirail either.”  You add, wondering if that’s how Dave feels about Rose.  You kind of understand the premise of siblings, in as much as you’ve seen them in movies, but you aren’t sure if it’s taboo to want them in any quadrant or just the concupiscent ones.  Between the incest thing and the gay thing, you find it hard to believe that humans think they have any room to complain about quadrants.

“But... I’m pretty sure she feels the same.”  You add, trying to keep your thoughts on topic.  “I mean she ditched me entirely the first time she even met Rose, then spent the whole afterparty practically glued to her.”  It’s... hurtful, if you’re honest.  Just a little bit.  This thing with Kanaya is so new, it’s not even been official for a full fucking day yet, and you know your time with these humans is limited, but... rushing off to find another quadrant-mate so soon after filling one, it’s... it’s hurtful, yeah.  And leaving you essentially alone in stressful situations multiple times in the same day...

“Cool.”  Strider is grinning again, and you guiltily remember that Kanaya wasn’t the only one who’d been considering other quadrants on this trip.  Strider definitely isn’t the adversary you expected though, and you haven’t even spoken to TG since he rejected you so blatantly last night.  Not that you’re flushed, really, but... well, it would be nice to test those waters in person.  Or... would have been.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a sudden increase in the volume of the humans rushing all around you, and you realise in horror that whatever adjustments they had needed to make to the cameras to account for the darker lighting are finished, and there’s no more escape.  This thing is hapening. 

“Given the new public awareness of the revolutionary themes in your past work, do you expect to take a different approach going forward?”  Thankfully so far the host has mostly been directing his questions to Strider, possibly giving you time to ease into this whole scenario, and you’re... somewhat grateful.  The less time you have to spend actually speaking the better, but having to listen to Strider drivel on and on in the most frustrating monotone imaginable is... blech.

“I mean, I’m always trying to push the needle, man.”  Strider says, and it’s almost like he has a special “obnoxious” version of his voice he puts on for interviews, nothing like the more relaxed, real way he had spoken to you.  “Obviously I’m still in the early drafting stage, and even if I wasn’t there’s not a ton I could give away.  I will say though, I’ve been trying to broaden my influences and branch out from what people expect.  “They can’t perceive one colour in the slurry of many...”, you know?”

You snap bolt upright at that, eyes wide, nerves forgotten.  You know that quote, know it well.  You watched that movie with TG just a few days ago, and the thought sends a small pang through you that you do your best to ignore.  

“You’ve seen In Which A Group Of Highbloods All Wind Up, Through A Series Of Unlikely Mishaps, Sharing The Same Mustard-Blood Between Their Quadrants.  When The Helmsman Conscription Comes, The Higbloods Conspire To-?”

Strider cuts you off, voice animating again as he drops the TV drawl with something approaching an actual grin.  “Dude, yes, obviously I’ve seen it, you don’t have to say the whole fucking thing.  I watch troll movies sometimes.”

“You’ve actually seen real cinema, and you still shit out that oversaturated drivel?”  The words are out of your squawk blister before you can stop them, and you immediately freeze, antlerbeast in the scuttlebuggylights.  You’re fairly sure that insulting Strider was one of the things you were definitely fucking not supposed to do on TV.  Strider looks delighted.

The host laughs it off thankfully, turning the full force of all those teeth onto you.  “That actually brings me nicely on to my first question for you, Karkat.  Being a critic of cinema from not just one but two planets, how does Earth fare compare?”

Oh cool, one of the worst questions he could have possibly asked, outside of outright diplomatic secrets.  “I... I mean, I try to let my blog speak for itself.”  You answer lamely, cursing yourself inside your head.  Idiot, idiot, idiot douchebag, making trolls look bad on human TV.  “I... guess it’s not a secret that I don’t have a high opinion of most human media in general.  We’ve been making movies for a lot longer than your “Hollywood” has even existed, so we’ve had hundreds of sweeps to perfect the art.  Some human movies are... fine, considering how primitive they are.”

It’s a bad answer, and you can already tell Trollian is gonna blow up with indignant messages from your higher-up friends as soon as this thing airs.  The host doesn’t look fazed in the slightest, but Strider has that little almost-smile still plastered onto his smug face.

“Bro, you try to give a cliché TV answer and still somehow manage to completely shit-talk us, I love it.”  He sounds unnervingly sincere again, and you grit your teeth and think of Feferi as you bite back every cutting insult you would love to pour directly into this douchebag.  There’s something infuriatingly familiar in the way he talks to you, like he knows you, like he has the right to make those kind of stupid remarks in a friendly way.  So much for thinking he’s not as bad as he seems.

Thankfully, the host steps in to cut the tension.  “You’ve had a very sudden rise to public prominence on Earth, Karkat, but those on Alternia may already be familiar with you being hatchmates with the Empress.  How do those political ties affect your presence here?”

You can’t quite believe Feferi okayed this question, but... well, it’s the kind of thing people will be wondering.  Better to address it than not.  You take a deep breath and think of all the meetings and briefings you sat through during the coup, as Feferi had been rallying trolls to unseat her ancestor and take the throne.  You had listened to so many people you knew as loudmouth idiots speak with such grace and clarity, surely for once in your miserable fucking life you can manage to do the same.

“Look, I’m not a diplomat or a spy or a politician or whatever.  I’m nobody – I’m some douchebag with a blog.  Your planet has millions of those too.  I’m not here because I’m Feferi’s hatchmate, or on some kind of coordinated peace negotiation.  I’m here because some bullshit I said online got wildly out of hand, and both planets thought it’d be a good display of unity to send some douchebag with a blog to the other side of the fucking universe.  If there was any kind of deeper purpose to my visit, chances are it would fly right the fuck over my nub anyway, because I am, fundamentally, some douchebag with a blog.”

The host’s grin never falters but to your right, Strider actually laughs.  You’d never admit to how many of his interviews you’ve sat through in a rage-induced fervor trying to understand this maniac, and in all that time you’ve never seen him act the way he does around you.  He’s always been suave, flat, controlled, smooth.  It’s a big part of why you had your hackles up (and were mildly interested in the spades department) when you met him – he’s always seemed so manufactured, and you wanted to tear that to shreds and watch him crumble.

He’s not crumbling now though, he’s just laughing.  Like he’s a person.  Like you’re friends.  It’s... disarming, and you’re not sure what to do with it.  You manage to pinch back an answering chirrup, and gird yourself against the task at hand.  Surely, just a few more questions to go.

It feels like a thousand more questions go by before the host is finally, wonderfully wrapping up this whole affair.  You’re free.  You did it, you sat through a whole stupid TV interview with stupid Strider, and nobody died, no desperately unsalvageable diplomatic blunders were made, you barely even bickered with the idiot whose fault this all is.  Kanaya gives you an approving nod before you’re whisked away to take photos with Strider and the host, and you notice that at some point Lalonde has arrived, settled in to the seat next to Kanaya with a smile that makes you think she’s in on some kind of joke that you aren’t.

But you’ve got more to worry about than smirky broads and their mysterious horseshit, as you’re forced into a variety of humiliating poses with Strider and the host, taking far more promotional photos than they could ever possibly need.  You do your best to smile, and take comfort in the fact that even if humans take all your bared fangs as a threat, the host’s blinding gnashers are somehow still outshining yours.

With that finally, finally done, Strider steps off to talk to someone on production and you take a moment to retrieve your palmhusk, figuring it’s best not to put off the inevitable Eridan of it all.  How he wound up as Feferi’s chief diplomat, you’ll never understand.  How he’s managed to be good at the job, you’ll definitely never fucking understand.  After maturing out of the seadweller supremacy bullshit, he’s actually gotten decent at dealing with humans, and finding the most mutually beneficial ways to handle whatever problems arise.  

You suppose finally sorting out his quadrant woes did a lot for him.  He was insufferable for a while there, and the desperate pale-flirting while you were fuck-deep in the dregs of the nightmare that was being Gamzee’s moirail definitely hadn’t helped your opinion of him.  Not to mention The Incident with Kanaya.  But over the course of the coup Eridan rekindled things on the pale side with Feferi, and between that and finally making all the black-flirting with Sollux official, he’s somehow turned into what you almost might consider a tolerable dude.  How the three of them in their black-pale-red triangle wound up being one of the most stable relationships you’ve ever seen is one mystery you would love to never have explained.

-- caligulasAquarium [CA] began trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG] --

CA: alright kar 
CA: kan says youre done so lets hear it
CA: howw much am i gonna regret not fuckin findin time to givve you media trainin
CA: i can wwork wwith wwhatevver damage your fuckin gaper has caused long as i knoww about it in advvance
CA: this wwhole thing wwas a terrible fuckin idea
CA: kar youre krillin me here
CA: is fef gonna havve to make another fuckin statement about you bein a huge asshole
CG: CALM DOWN FUCKHEAD THEY WERE TAKING PHOTOS OF US.
CG: EVERYTHING IS FINE.  I PROBABLY MADE MYSELF LOOK LIKE THE BIGGEST ASSHOLE IN TWO GALAXIES, BUT WHAT ELSE IS NEW?
CA: oh thank fuck
CA: only so many apology eelmails a man can draft kar
CA: really didnt wwanna bust out the “karkat showed his nook an bulge on tvv an called the human president a slurry-brained grubfucker” one
CG: GLAD TO KNOW YOU THINK SO FUCKING HIGHLY OF ME!
CG: OH THAT KARKAT HE CAN’T KEEP HIS SHIT TOGETHER EVEN REMOTELY FOR A SINGLE HOUR!
CG: BETTER BATTEN DOWN THE HATCHES AND PREPARE FOR ARMA-FUCKING-GEDDON CAUSED BY HIS PAN FUCKING SELF-DESTRUCTING IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE FUCKING HUMAN RACE!
CA: wwhoa kar calm dowwn 
CA: you knoww i gotta prepare for wworst case scenarios for fuckin evverythin 
CA: the “fef wwent condesce-mode cause i fucked up as a moirail an is on the rampage tryna burn this wwhole fuckin alliance to the ground” one wwas a doozy to wwrite lemme tell ya
CG: RIGHT RIGHT SORRY.
CG: YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO GET USED TO YOU BEING COMPETENT AND REASONABLE.
CA: “wwoww eridan thanks for bein right there to savve my ass if anyfin had gone wwrong!”
CA: but hey ill take the compliment 
CA: noww stop bein a nooklord an go play nice wwith the humans some more
CA: ill check in again in the mornin
CG: FINE.
CG: AND THANK YOU.
CA: noww thats more like it

-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] has ceased trolling caligulasAquarium [CA] --

You sigh and pocket your palmhusk quickly, not really willing to look through whatever the rest of the assholes you call friends have had to say since you got here.  That’s a future problem.  You start heading back towards where you last saw Kanaya when there’s a rush of movement, and Strider is suddenly in front of you, faster than you thought humans could move.  You fail to quash the chirp of alarm as you jump back, arms taking a defensive position.

He raises his hands in front of himself and shakes his head, stepping back slightly.  “Sorry dude, didn’t mean to scare you.”  You force yourself to relax and step closer, and he lowers his hands in relief.  “Can we chill for a moment and give them some space?”

You frown, wishing you could read his stupid face behind those stupid sunglasses.  You knew intellectually that humans don’t subvocalise, had reminded yourself over and over not to strain to hear it the way you had when you started watching human movies, but as weird as it is on most humans, it's downright unsettling on Strider.  His eyes are shielded, his face is flat, and he is completely and utterly silent.  “You mean Kanaya and your human sister?”  His lip twitches slightly at your use of the word human, but he doesn’t rise to the bait.

“Yeah, Rose is pretty busy being a huge lesbian.”  He pauses.  “Which is cool, I’m over here being a huge bisexual, so...”

You frown slightly, trying to remember which one that is.  “So... you’re being normal?”  You ask after a moment, and his face goes on a whole journey in the span of a few seconds.  He looks overjoyed, then sad for a second, and then he’s laughing.

“Hell yeah I’m being normal, bro.  Wish everyone saw it that way.”  He sounds wistful but extends a fist, and you stare down at it for a moment.  Another stupid human hand gesture – which one is this again?

Strider solves your confusion by reaching down with his other hand and taking your wrist, grinning as he lifts your hand and bumps your knuckles with his own.  “Bro fistbump.  Because we’re bros now.”  He clarifies, clearly extremely pleased with himself.  It’s stupid and you want to call him stupid, but you can’t fight the need to dig into... whatever it was that had his stupid, douchebag walls cracking.

“What do you mean, you wish people thought it was normal?”  Your voice is a little rougher than you expected, and you see him clam up for a moment, but before you can even begin running your mind through all the different ways you’re a stupid worthless asshole who ruins everything, he’s softening again, running a hand through his hair.

“I dunno man, some people really don’t.  My bro-”  He cuts himself off quickly, and you watch those doors start to close again with a shake of his head.  He doesn’t put the douchebag face back on though – he just looks tired. 

“Some people think there’s only one right way to be a man, and being into other dudes is a flaw that’s gotta be excised.  That’s all.  Nice to hang with someone from a culture where that’s not even a thing.”  There’s something so small in his voice, and you can’t take this rollercoaster anymore.  You can’t.  When did you become so fixated on this terrible, pathetic man?

He shakes his head again quickly, and the douchebag is back like nothing ever happened, smirking like a piece of shit as he leans against the wall.  “Look, you and Kanaya should come to dinner at mine tonight.  Rose really wants to get to know Kanaya better, while she’s here.”

You hesitate.  It’s getting towards the time when you and TG would usually watch a movie and you’ve got that itch, to just be alone talking shit with the one person who doesn’t care about your status right now.  But... Kanaya really seems to like this Rose human, and as frustrating as it is so soon after making your own relationship official, you can’t bring yourself to even consider letting her down.

Besides, you’re not talking to TG right now.  And Strider is proving to be an addictive kind of enigma.  You’re nodding your head before you even really realise it.

“Sure.  Fine.  Dinner.”  You’re not prepared for Strider’s grin to return at the words, and you’re glad beyond belief that there’s no chance he knows what the small trill in your throat means.

-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling turntechGodhead [TG] --

CG: I’M NOT TALKING TO YOU RIGHT NOW.
CG: BUT IF I WAS TALKING TO YOU I WOULD BE MESSAGING TO LET YOU KNOW THAT MOVIE MORNING IS OFF FOR TODAY.
CG: IT COULD HAVE BEEN A BEAUTIFUL FUCKING BRO-DOWN FOR THE AGES, BUT NO.
CG: I’LL BE HAVING DINNER AT STRIDER’S INSTEAD, MAYBE I’LL EVEN BRO DOWN WITH HIM.
CG: HE ALREADY TAUGHT ME HOW TO DO A “BRO FISTBUMP”.
CG: JUST ANOTHER EXPERIENCE YOU FUCKED YOURSELF OUT OF ON THE ONE CHANCE WE’LL EVER HAVE TO HANG.
TG: fuck dude
TG: idk who to be more jealous of 
TG: you getting to bro down with strider or strider getting to bro down with you
CG: EITHER WAY, IT’S YOUR FUCKING FAULT.
TG: dude i told you im sorry
TG: if i could hang in person i would
TG: i swear
TG: youve got no damn idea how hard i wanna bro down in front of some straight trash cinema
CG: OH NO, ITS NO BIG DEAL, I JUST SHARED SOME REALLY FUCKING VULNERABLE SHIT WITH YOU AND YOU THREW IT RIGHT BACK IN MY IDIOT FACE WITH THE SHITTIEST EXCUSE ANYONE HAS EVER GIVEN ON ANY PLANET EVER.
CG: WHICH WAS MY MISTAKE I GUESS.
CG: NOT LIKE A HUMAN COULD EVEN ACTUALLY UNDERSTAND WHAT SHARING LIKE THAT MEANT.
CG: SO WHATEVER.
TG: fuck im sorry
TG: look
TG: i know how dumb bullshit cliche this sounds but its one hundred percent me
TG: my life is really complicated right now
TG: and youre like the only part of it that isnt
TG: but if we meet youll get all tangled up in my mess
TG: and i dont wanna put that on you
TG: thats all i promise
CG: I SEE.
CG: BEING ON AN ALIEN PLANET IS SUCH A WALK IN THE PARK, I CAN SEE WHY YOU THINK A LITTLE BIT OF COMPLICATION WOULD BE TOO MUCH FOR ME.
CG: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR CONSIDERING MY FEELINGS, DOUG.
TG: fuck

-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] has ceased trolling turntechGodhead [TG] --

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Your name is Dave Strider, and every single thing you’ve done for the last month has been an exercise in stupidity so profound that you kind of want to bleat like a goat and take a shit on your turntables.

You really hadn’t meant to let the Strider persona slip on camera like that, but being around Karkat is infectious – it’s scarily easy to just forget the armor you’ve built to defend yourself when he’s right in front of you being just as grouchy and earnest as he is online.  Dave Strider, Famous Douchebag doesn’t stand a chance around him.

It makes you insecure in a way you haven’t been since you were a teenager with a doomed crush on John.  You’re kind of freaking the fuck out, but you would be freaking the fuck out so much more if your sister weren’t busy freaking the fuck out right in front of you.

“Does my lipstick look okay?”  Rose asks for the fourth time in the last half hour, and you love her so much.  You’ve settled yourself gently between her and the liquor cabinet, and intend to keep your flat ass parked right here until the guests arrive.  She’s trying, she is, but when she’s nervous... well, you know all too well how burdens from your upbringing weigh heaviest when you’re vulnerable.

“Still perfect, Rose, relax.  The Hot Alien Babe Express is very much pulling up at Lalonde Station, you’re just waiting for the all aboard.  Not like the lipstick’s gonna last long anyway if things go right.”  You smirk, and there’s a flood of relief when she laughs. 

“You always find the most graphic way to make me feel better, Dave.  Thank you.”  The smile is sincere, and it’s enough to push your own insecurity back down a few notches.  Like if Rose can feel okay about this, maybe you can too.  You chance a glance at your phone, but the last relevant message on any of your accounts is some idle public bickering with Karkat, which had cheered you up more than you wanted to admit.  

You’re setting it down again when your phone rings.  Someone is calling you.  On Pesterchum.  You didn’t even know Pesterchum had a fucking voice call function.

Wait.  It doesn’t.

But Trollian apparently does.

You have no god damn idea why Karkat is calling TG, but you’ve already hit the accept button before your brain has really processed that that’s what’s happening.  You’re also standing, now?

“Uh, howdy there?”  You modulate your voice slightly, and hope he won’t notice.  You don’t know how well trolls can tell the difference between human voices, and if you really play up the Texas twang, he might not recognise Dave Strider’s voice on the other end of the phone.

The sound of the laugh Rose fails to choke down upon hearing your cowboy-ass accent is indescribable, and you flap a hand at her dismissively and quickly abscond to the other room before she can pry.

“Doug?  This is Karkat.”  He sounds a little different over the phone, and you realise after a second that the receiver isn’t picking up all the nuances of the buzzing in his throat.  He almost just sounds like Some Guy With An Accent.  “Firstly, fuck you, I’m still not talking to you.”

Never mind, he still sounds exactly the same.  “Secondly, I’m calling because I need more human help, and we're in a hurry.  And making calls to Earth actually fucking works when I’m on Earth, as it turns out.”

“Well, butter my backside and call me a biscuit.”  Yep, definitely too southern, and you’re glad you’ve apparently managed to escape Rose’s hearing.  No chance she would have let you live that one down if she heard it.  “What kinda human help you needin’ there?”

You hear something that might be a chitter of frustration, but it just doesn’t sound the same over the phone.  “Stop fucking hitting on me you bulgehuffing piece of shit, you already made it clear you don’t actually want anything to do with me.  Which, whatever.”  Ouch.  “Also shut up.  Listen.”  He pauses, takes a breath, and starts again, and you think he thinks he sounds calmer.  “Apparently it’s human custom to bring a gift when you’re going to a human dinner party, but I have no fucking idea what.  We can’t just go wander the shops willy fucking nilly because we have constant fucking security up our seedflaps.  What is an appropriate and acceptable human gift we can acquire quickly and safely?  The internet said soporifics are customary, but that seems... presumptive?  I mean, humans all drink soporifics all the time in your movies, but to us it’s... I don’t know, taboo isn’t quite the right term, but...”  He cuts himself off with an agitated chirp, and you take the chance to step in.

“Nah, nah, you’re plumb right there.  Ain’t no reason to bring human soporifics.”  Your cowboy accent is getting shittier and shittier by the second, and you’re going to have to start using this stupid bullshit southern slang as TG now so it won’t be obvious that he talks differently than he types.  Or maybe Karkat won’t notice – it’s all human bullshit to him.  “I reckon it don’t amount to a hill o’ beans what you bring, Dave Strider’s a highfalutin’ Hollywood director, he’ll be happy enough with the present of yer presence.”  You imagine the face John would pull if he could hear you, and you wish you could dissolve into thin air.  That’d be great right about now.

“Do you think I could get away with not even fucking giving him that?”  Karkat grumbles, and you do your best to pull yourself out of this cowboy-induced shame spiral and fucking focus.  “No, but apparently it’s polite to bring an offering.  And-”  His voice lowers, and you hear a quick scuffle of movement.  “-my moirail, Kanaya insists.  She’s... ugh, she’s trying to court his moirail in her red quadrant, even though we’re only here for five more fucking earth days.  And she really wants to make a good impression, so we have to find something fucking perfect.”

Huh.  You had wondered what Kanaya thought of you and Rose at the premiere, and apparently you have your answer.  What you don’t have an answer to is his actual question.  “Well, uh, if yer mwaaaah-rail's tryna court Strider's sister, human romantic tradition'd be flowers 'n' whatnot - she’d prob’ly be happier ‘n a pig in shit about that.”

Karkat pauses, and you realise that genuinely hadn’t occurred to him.  “Oh.  Duh.”  He clicks, and you melt just a little bit.  “Right, well.  We’ll find a flower shop then, I guess.  Thanks.”  He pauses.  “Also, fuck you.  We’re still not talking.”  That chitter is back, and you can’t hold in a laugh.  You don’t even know if he heard it or not, because the call is disconnected  and you cough instinctively, exorcising the ghost of spaghetti westerns past from your lungs.

Rose isn’t in the lounge room when you return, and your blood freezes for a second when you realise the bottle of ciroc on the middle shelf of your liquor cabinet is on the bottom now.  You left Rose nervous and alone with booze.  Shit.

You sigh heavily as you approach the bathroom door, knocking with your forehead rather than your fist.  “You can come out.”  You’re tired.  You’re both tired of this familiar dance, her just as much as you.  There’s no point in making it shameful, not when she’s already unsettled, not when she’s got a date she needs to keep her shit together for.  “Rose, let's- let’s go cook.  I’m not gonna give you any shit, just... finish your drink somewhere other than sitting on the fucking toilet.”

It’s quiet for a long time, almost long enough that you wonder if your dumb ass has been talking to an empty room.  But then the door is opening and her head is high, but her gaze just isn’t as sharp as you can tell she wants it to be.  She studies you for a long, quiet moment, then sets her empty glass down on a side table with a sigh.  “It’s not your job to protect me from myself, Dave.  I’m fine, it was just one drink.”

And it was just one drink - she’s still perfectly put together, if a little looser than before.  That’s the thing.  If it had been anyone else helping themself, they would have.... had a drink.  Rose hid in the bathroom to have a drink.  Because you both know she has a problem.  And you both know she isn’t ready to address it.  And you both know that you don’t know what to do about that.

So, you shrug.  You can’t make her decisions for her, and making her feel shittier on a day she’s so antsy about isn’t gonna fix anything.  Instead you change the subject, letting the drinking go for now.  “That was Karkat on the phone.”

It works, because her defensiveness melts away into a squawk of laughter.  “And he called you on your cowboy line?!”  She cackles as you flip her off.

“Nah man, he was calling TG.  I panicked.  Can’t have that douchebag sound like this douchebag, so... TG’s a yeehaw man now, I guess.”  You shrug, and she melts back into her chair, laughter unwinding all the nervous knots she’s been tied in.  

“Oh dear...”  She tries and fails to sound aloof through the giggles, and you don’t try to hold back your answering smile.  No Strider façade for her tonight.  

You and Rose have both long since given up any hope of figuring out quite how kitchens work.  Your apartment has one of course – a nice one, even.  Hella expensive.  But beyond stuffing it with chips and instant meals and the finest of takeaway leftovers, and definitely no swords or explosives, you’ve never really known what to do with it.  Rose did try a bit back when the two of you were roommates right after ditching your respective guardians, but she never managed much beyond “classying up” your instant ramen by adding an egg.

Trolls are apparently made of hardier stuff than humans and don’t need to worry about things like food poisoning - or even poison-poisoning - but you still don’t want to subject your guests to a display of your own capabilities, so you’ve arranged catering.  It’s basically instant food, really.  There are containers of things with instructions on what to do with those things, and when.  Just... more elaborate instant meals.  Yep.

Between the two of you you do your best.  You really do.  And it smells... like food.  Mostly.  (There’s one little tray of... nibble things that you both forget is in the oven until much too late, rest in peace to... whatever those were.)  You feel a little proud, then realise that you’re feeling proud of a dinner party someone else cooked for you.  But hey, you successfully warmed things up. It counts.

And just in time too – Rose abandons you to figure out where your nice plates are kept when the doorbell rings, and echoing from the hallway you can hear her chattering far more animatedly than usual, with the occasional remark from Kanaya, and Karkat’s deep grumbling buzz which you really have to stop fixating on, even as it manages to thrum its way right through to you in the kitchen.

You somehow manage to find dishware that... kind of seems right, at least, and before long the four of you are settled in in the dining room, all gathered around one end of your stupidly long dining table, with a bouquet of soft purple flowers sat in the middle.  Sure, it was nice when you were just having Rose over for dinner and the two of you could sit at opposite ends of a fucknormous victorian dining table and snip at each other like assholes from one of her stupid historical novels, but having normal company over just makes the table... kind of embarrassing, honestly.

You make it work though, and before you know it you’re setting a plate in front of Karkat and dropping into a seat next to him, Rose having apparently already settled very comfortably in next to Kanaya.  Karkat gives a small irritated click, eyeing you grouchily.  

“Why the fuck is your mealslab enormous?”  He asks, and damn it, what is with this guy managing to break your poker face within seconds?  You can’t fight back the grin as he continues.  “I know you’re far too huge an asshole to have this many friends.”

“Shit, you don’t know me like that.”  You smirk, taking a sip of your apple juice – no booze at this table tonight.  “You’re forgetting I’m a rich, famous asshole.  I can have as many people around for dinner as I like.  And here you are, getting a private show – aren’t you special?”

He trills slightly and grumbles.  “Like the most pitiable rustblood in culling season.”  And you can’t believe it – you’ve seen enough of his movies now that you get his idioms.  The cackle that escapes you is strange enough that even Rose and Kanaya look over for a moment, but you ignore them.

“You’re a real Elmola Topifa alright.”  You smirk, and relish every moment of his face journey.  “Yes, I told you, I watch your dumbass movies sometimes.  That one sucked.”  You add, purely to keep the journey going.  Truthfully, you had enjoyed it – one of those beautiful movies that was so terrible it worked its way all the way around back to being kind of great.  You even took a few notes while watching.

The movie pales in comparison to the rant you receive for dissing it though, and dinner is just all around better than you had expected.  It’s easy, just like talking to him always seems to be.  Rose and Kanaya seem to be getting along well too, and as you’re finishing up dessert you realise the two of them have gotten very close, and Kanaya has started making a soft chirp that you swear you recognise.

To your surprise, your instincts are proven correct when Karkat leans over and elbows you, muttering under his breath.  “We should give them some space.”  You nod in agreement and wordlessly scoop up the plates, giving Karkat the excuse of helping you tidy up.  You ditch the dishes in the kitchen, mildly wondering what the maid will think.  You keep your place fairly neat, there doesn’t tend to be much for him to do, but you’re sure he’s never once seen more dishes than a couple of glasses and a cereal bowl in that kitchen before.  You snicker slightly as you imagine him calling up to tell you someone broke into the house and made a three course meal last night.

You don’t even realise you’ve been leading Karkat up onto the roof until you’re already up there.

You don’t like rooftops.  You wanted the penthouse; wanted the room with a view, all of that, but rooftops... something about the way the wind hits up here, the distant muffling of traffic from so far below, the sound of birds flying by... it’s too familiar.  Why did you come up here?

You’ve walked near the edge of the roof in almost a trance, idly considering just how long it’s been since you were up somewhere like this, without ever letting your mind actually land on the memory of the last time.  One hand twitches up towards your ribcage, and-

There’s a hand on your shoulder and you see white as you whirl around, reaching for a sword you don’t fucking have on you, fuck, and taking a defensive stance. Your eyes are so wide it almost hurts.  

When you collect your thoughts Karkat is in front of you in an answering defensive stance, though he looks more confused than ready for a fight.  “Dave?”  He asks hesitant, so hesitant, and it’s enough to drain all the tension from you at once.

“Fuck.”  You gasp, letting all the tight-wound knots in your muscles unravel as you sink to the ground, sitting in an ungainly heap.  You know Karkat has never thought you were cool, but even the slightest hints have no doubt been erased for good now.  

His stance relaxes too, and he moves hesitantly as he takes a seat next to you, and his face is so gentle you feel almost sick.  It reminds you of Dirk, when he found out.

“Sorry.”  You swallow, looking out over the city rather than at him.  You are blowing it so bad with this foxy slunt.  “I, uh... I hate rooftops.  Dunno why the fuck I brought you up here.”  You run a hand through your hair, and glance back over when he lets out a surprisingly mellow rumble.  

“It, uh, it’s fine...”  He mumbles, and for some reason you want to tell him everything.

“My bro-”  You pause, hand resting unconsciously on your ribs, thin fabric separating it from the deepest scar that’s ever torn you open.  “He, uh.  He used to kick my ass, a lot.  On the roof of our apartment building.”  It’s more honest than you’ve been with anyone outside of the family (plus John and Jade) in as long as you remember.  “Freaks me out being up here.”

He nods, and that rumble is getting louder.  “...I can get that, yeah.”  And you believe him.  The way Alternia pre-revolution is portrayed in films is... grisly isn’t a strong enough word, and you can’t believe things have really improved all that much in the decade since - not in a society so, so much older than your own.  

“Tabloids would have a fuckin’ field day if they saw this.”  You can’t help the chuckle that escapes you, resting one arm on your knee and stretching your other leg out, foot dangling over the edge of the roof.  “Dave Strider, pussy-ass bitch boy nearly attacks alien guest from space, restarts intergalactic war.”

He snorts with laughter, and it occurs that you’ve never even for a second had any fears that he would run off to the tabloids with anything you’ve told him.  You haven’t felt this comfortable around a stranger since meeting Dirk and Roxy for the first time.  “Good thing they’re not here then.”  He pauses, silent for a moment.  “I saw your human brother, at the premiere.  Why do you keep him around, if he was that awful.”

You shake your head quickly, head whipping around to look at him.  “No, nah man, not Dirk.  Dirk’s cool.”  You hesitate, but you’re already this deep.  Fuck it.  “Bro was actually my dad, but he made me call him Bro, because... being a dad was lame or whatever, I don’t know.  Bad for his image.”  You look back out over the horizon, and Karkat is still rumbling, and something about that keeps you talking. 

“It was just me and him, when I was growing up.  Wasn’t until I met Rose that we started putting pieces together, and we didn’t know about Dirk or Roxy at all until Bro died.”  Something inside you is cold, like it always is when you think back on everything.  “It’s, uh, I know it’s weird to you, but we usually all grow up together, familystyle.  That’s how humans are supposed to work, stronger together.  But our... our parents had problems.”  Understatement of the fucking millennium.  

“They were bad for each other.  Real fucked up when they had Dirk and Roxy, barely more than kids.”  Younger than you are now.  Much younger.  “Hooked on- on human soporifics.  Dirk and Roxy got taken away, Rox wound up in foster care... Dirk too, until he ran away.  Some kind of bad situation, he won’t talk about it.  Found a place to squat and pretty much raised himself.”  

“They had us a few years later, me and Rose, but something was different that time.  Our Mom was... she sorted herself out just enough to get the fuck away from Bro, they each took one of us and... I got unlucky.”  You shrug, and Karkat's rumble is being broken up by clicks now.  And how long has he been sitting that close?

“Bro would kick my ass every chance he got, drag me up on the roof with a sword and just go to town, said he was making me strong but that was bullshit.  He was just beating up a kid.”  Something changes in Karkat’s tone, a strange chitter that puts you on edge, but you’re talking now, about stuff you haven’t talked about in years, and you’ve never been great at closing the faucet of bullshit that comes out your mouth.  “Filmed porn in the house too, real creepy shit.  I didn’t really get it until I was a teenager, but... fuck, man, it was fucked up.”

Karkat is clicking louder now, rumble drowned out almost entirely, and it’s enough to shut you up and draw your eyes to him.  He looks queasy, and you slap on a quick smile.  Shit.  “Shit.  Sorry, didn’t mean to give you the whole tragic backstory.  Just... being up here, I guess.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose in clear frustration and the rumble is gone now, chitter almost... frantic?  You reach to touch his shoulder without thinking and he flinches away, and shit, you have fucked this.  “Sorry, dude, I’m chill, I promise.  Strider personal story vault closed and locked.  Didn’t mean to get so real.”

When Karkat responds there’s something scary about it, hearing him without any venom in his voice.  You want it back.  "Look, I'm going to throw you a fucking bone, because despite being the literal worst person I have ever met, you're not actually a bad guy. It's not your fault you're from such a primitive culture that you don't understand what you're doing, so I'm being very gentle right now." He is clearly being so controlled in a way you didn’t think he was capable of, and... You really didn't think you had fucked up THAT badly. 

"Ever since our first blindingly terrible interaction online, you have been constantly fucking vacillating which quadrant you're flirting with me in. Which - I won't pretend I'm not flattered, I suppose. I - fuck, since I'm expressing my entire embarrassment gland right now I might as well admit I had... Kind of entertained the idea of a little black fling while I'm here. Just thought about it." He adds quickly, giving you a sharp look. 

"But you've been bouncing between black and red in the same fucking sentence ever since I got here, it's exhausting. And... look, I've seen your terrible movies, I know humans are awful at romance, I was just fine chalking it up to your primitive culture, but now you're trying to flip pale on me and I can't - my fucking moirail is right fucking downstairs, I'm not going to cheat on her!" 

Even in the dark, you can see the awkwardness and fear on his face. He's exactly as upset as he sounds, and you feel awful. And you have no idea how to fix this. You don't know where exactly the line between comforting a friend and pale flirting is, but you really don't want to cross it again.  Whatever had possessed you to start talking about Bro, that shit is locked the fuck back up.

“Sorry.”  It sounds more sincere now, now that you know where he’s coming from.  “I didn’t even think of that.  It’s... I mean, you know it’s not a thing for us, but... I get it’s a thing for you.  Should have been more considerate.”  You mean it, and his clicks settle down as you see him relax.

“It’s fine.”  He sighs, and he sounds sincere too.  “I know it’s just... human stuff.  I’d overlook it in the interest of... cultural sensitivity or whatever, if that wouldn’t mean cheating on Kanaya.”  He admits, and you see an opening to drag him back onto more comfortable ground.  

“You thought about a different kinda fling with me though, huh?”  You smirk, and you know it’s the right thing to do because he shoves you and you don’t even flinch, swaying with laughter instead.  

“Don’t act like you didn’t know you were flirting with me online.”  He snaps, and you laugh harder.  “Publicly!  In front of your millions of fucking followers!  And then you invited me all the way to fucking Earth, of course I thought about it.  If you were going this far for a booty call, it’d be rude not to think about it!”

You cackle, elbowing him raunchily in the side and not thinking about what the new chirping sound he’s making is doing to your stomach.  “How ‘bout it then, Karkles?  Wanna do it like they do on the discovery channel?  Boldly go where no man has gone before?  Conduct some xenobiological research?”

He slaps you in the shoulder again, and your giggles die down.  “Our moirails are right downstairs, dipshit!”  He snaps, and if that’s his only hesitation... “And I don’t... hate you.”  He sighs and the chittering fades, along with your involuntary reaction to it.  “Not like that.  I mean...  I do, you’re infuriating, but...”  He cuts himself off with a series of gurgles and clicks that you don’t need a translator to recognise as swearing.  “...it’s complicated.”  He settles on, and you know just how he felt talking to TG.  

“...Is it because I keep vacillating?”  You ask hesitantly, and his face is all the answer you need.  “That’s – I mean, I don’t mean to.  It’s just... human stuff, you know?  You know what we’re like.  It’s... kinda all the same thing.”

He pinches his nose and chirrs again, and you’re starting to pick up some actual distinctions, after being around him so much.  That one is definitely frustration.  “I know, I understand your human stuff.  It’s – it’s complicated.”  He repeats.  “Kind of.... I’ve always...”  He starts talking about something in Alternian, then cuts himself off with a growl and a louder chirr.  “I can’t really talk about it, I’ve just... it’s complicated.”

You nod, and realise he might have been getting close to moirail stuff again.  God damn it.  “It’s cool.”  You say instead, really not willing to push that button again tonight.  “Don’t gotta say more.  We can just stay best BFFs forever.”  You grin and wrap an arm around his shoulders, and then he’s scowling and slapping you away again, and everything feels... okay.

He’s so easy to talk to, just like he is online.  You shoot the shit about movies, pretend you haven’t seen a few you know TG has, just so it doesn’t get suspicious.  He cusses you out for not thinking Qunbii Cadrol is the greatest redrom actress of all time, you pretend to think Shallow Hal is a masterpiece to piss him off, he insults the Love Actually soundtrack, you deliberately butcher his favourite quote from the first movie you watched together.  It’s comfortable, it’s fun, and time is passing far quicker than you realised.  When you look up and the moon is higher in the sky than it should be, you take a quick glance at your phone and wince.

“Man, as much fun as it is dissing your bullshit opinions, it’s like midnight.”  You say apologetically.  You want to invite him to stay the night, but you're pretty sure he and Kanaya need those sleep cocoon things.  You deliriously wonder just how expensive it would be to get one installed, before remembering it’d be basically impossible to even acquire.  Getting a hotel fitted for troll ambassadors was probably hard enough as it was.  “We should check on the girls...”

He sighs, looking as bummed out as you feel.  As you go to stand up, he puts a hand on your wrist for a second.  “Hey, uh... thanks.”  He says slowly.  “There’s... I’ve usually got plans this kind of time of day, but there’s shit going on there right now.  It was nice having something to do, other than sit around feeling shitty and worthless thinking about that mess.  So.  Thanks.”

Your heart does something there, and you can’t for a second figure out what it is.  You’re... flattered and upset that he’s missing TG so much.  You’re jealous of yourself, but also feeling smug at having beaten yourself for his attention.  It’s a clusterfuck of the highest order, so you shove it all down and shoot him the fingerguns, before standing and reaching down to help him up.  “Glad to help, dude.  Any time you need someone to bitch at, you know where I’ll be.”

You hear the thrum of soft conversation as you head downstairs, and you’re quietly relieved that your sister hasn’t elected to get xenosexual in your guest room.  If anyone’s gonna be exploring alien anatomy in your apartment, you want it to be you.  By the sound of things they’re in the living room, and you’re heading that way when you hear what’s unmistakably a sob.  Your sister sobbing.

It freezes you in place – you’ve only ever seen Rose cry when she’s wasted, and shit, Kanaya doesn’t know to keep her away from the fucking drinks, and she’s still so nervous, and you’re a terrible brother.  Karkat stops when you do, and somehow he looks even more horrified than you feel.  You can’t imagine why until you pick up another sound underneath the sobbing – the same low hum Karkat had started making on the rooftop.  Oh fuck.

You don’t waste any more time, bracing yourself for what the fuck ever you’re going to intrude on, and stride loudly into the living room.  If you get there first maybe they’ll compose themselves, and Karkat won’t have to see­-

Rose is definitely wasted.  She must have hit it hard after you left and she’s curled in tight to Kanaya, crying against her shoulder.  Kanaya is holding her close, fingers frozen in place where they had been petting softly through Rose’s hair, apparently unable to stop herself rumbling even while staring at you like a deer in headlights.

At both of you.  Karkat caught up quicker than you hoped, and he makes some kind of explosive cracking sound you’ve heard in movies before, but it’s so much more visceral in person.  You and Kanaya both wince, and it’s loud enough for Rose to finally realise they aren’t alone anymore.  She looks up pitifully, makeup smeared, and Kanaya yanks her hands back in horror.

“Karkat, I-”  She starts, and he’s already taking a step back.  “Wait, I didn’t-”

He’s gone and you want to go after him, but you’re pretty sure that’s the worst possible thing you could do in these circumstances.  Instead you head over to where Rose is sitting, bleary-eyed and confused, and pull her away from Kanaya gently.  “Go talk to him.”  You say, and she’s out the door like that.  

Rose is blinking up at you, and you get it a little, the way trolls talk about pity.  It’s not romantic, not to you, but your heart could burst for your sister.  You’re mad, you’re disappointed, and you’re so worried about her you feel sick with it.  She had been better, recently.  She had been better.  “What happened?”  You manage not to sound too mad, you think, and she sags into you the way she never would sober.

“J’st got nervous...”  She mumbles, heavy and tired.  “Thought I’d r’lax a lil, just a wee one...  an’ then another wee one... an’ she’s so nice, I like her so much, Dave!  So we were talkin’, an’ I started talkin’ about Mom, an’ then I was crying, so embarrassing, an’ she was just comforting me Dave, I don’t get whass wrong!”

How did you wind up the culturally sensitive one?  “It’s troll stuff, Rose.  Just – I’ll explain in the morning.  Let’s get you to bed.”  You pull her to standing with an arm around her waist and she sways against you, and it was definitely more than a couple of “wee ones”.

“I needa piss...”  She mumbles, yanking a snort of laughter out of you, and you nod. 

“Good thing you’ve got a whole en suite all to yourself, c’mon.”  You support her out of the living room, and do your best not to listen to the argument happening in your front entrance.  You couldn’t understand it anyway, but there’s a real distress in the clicks and growls echoing through your apartment that you feel like you shouldn’t be privy to.

You deposit Rose in her guest room and entrust her to do the rest, closing the door quietly on your way out.  The troll noises have gotten even louder and more upset before going silent, and after a beat you hear your front door open and close.  Quietly – Kanaya, then.

Sure enough, after taking a breath to steel yourself you enter the dining room to find Karkat sat at the head of your stupid table, exhausted and sagging, head in hands.  He doesn’t even look up when you enter, just chitters in greeting.  You take a seat near him, letting out an uneasy sigh.  “I put Rose to bed.  She’s gonna feel awful about this when she wakes up.”  It seems a much safer place to start than jumping to comfort, given the circumstances, and the way he nods tells you you’re right, even if he doesn’t lift his head from his hands.  “I, uh, I get what you were saying now.  Upstairs.”

He nods again and does lift his head, and shit, his eyes are puffy and he’s wiping away what you think for a second is watery blood before you remember troll tears, and will this whole alien thing ever feel normal?  “Guess I shouldn’t have worried so much.”  He grumbles as he wipes his eyes, and he sounds miserable.  He’s quiet for a moment, then runs a hand through his gnarls of hair.  “Fuck it.  It’s – this whole thing was really new.”  He mumbles, and he’s starting to make that low, pale buzz again and you wish you could make it back.

“I mean, we had been flirting for a while, but we only made things official literally fucking yesterday.  Which – shitty timing ahoy!  It felt sensible, we’re practically the only trolls on this entire fucking planet, of course we would want to be there for each other.  But we’re – we’re also surrounded by humans, and you’re...”  He flaps a hand at you, and you nod in understanding.  “So like, realistically, something like this was bound to happen.  It was already weird how much she had been ignoring me for Rose.  But- fuck...”  He buzzes lower, and despite how crap you’ve always been at comforting people, it feels instinctive somehow with him.

He doesn’t hesitate even for a second when you touch him on the shoulder.  He leans in to you instead, resting his head on your shoulder, and you remember all the pale scenes you’ve seen in movies; remember what he said looked good and what seemed over the top.  You settle for something platonic enough by human standards, even if it’s... probably borderline raunchy to him.  You run your hand slowly over his hair, never sinking your fingers in, and apparently it’s the right move.  He goes boneless in your arms, humming even louder than before.

“That sucks.”  You say gently, and you wonder idly what this is going to mean for this black/red emotional rollercoaster you’ve apparently been putting him through.  A problem for tomorrow.  “It definitely seems like it was the right timing for you guys, but... humans being humans, of course we’d fuck it up.”  He grunts, and it’s almost a laugh.  “Dumbass primitive one kinda relationship havin’ species.”

He does laugh then, but it chokes off into a sob.  “I just – I thought I could get it right with her...”  He continues, and you keep stroking his hair, wondering if trying to hum to match his buzz would help, or make things weird.  “My last moiraillegiance was... people almost died, it was a disaster.  He was a highblood – one of the clown fuckers.  You’ve seen how dangerous they are.”  You have, and you wince at the thought.  He was really trying to handle all that?  

“He freaked out on our friends, went on a rampage right in the middle of the rebellion.  I – I tried, I fucking ripped myself apart trying to keep him together, but it didn't do any fucking good.”  He shakes his head, nuzzling deeper into your shoulder.  “It was a mess.  And things in other quadrants haven’t been better, and I thought... maybe, maybe for once in my miserable fucking life, something might go right, but...”  He’s limp and tired against you, and when you do give a little hum, he relaxes even more.  Score one, Strider.  “It’s... it’s fucked.”

“It’s fucked.”  You agree, before falling back into your low hum.  You don’t know how long the two of you sit there, no more sound other than the soft hum you’re doing your best to echo back to Karkat, and it’s comfortable, it’s easy.

“I – fuck...”  He says eventually, groaning as he pushes away from you to sit up.  “I’m too tired to think about what a mess this is.”  He gestures between you, and you nod in agreement.  “Ugh – I want my recuperacoon so fucking badly right now, but... I don’t think I can deal with seeing her again.  Especially-”  He glances at you, then looks away, and you do not want him feeling guilty for this.  Not right now. 

“Hey, I got you.”  You smile, then pause.  “Actually, I don’t.  I’ve got no fucking slime beds.”  

He snorts with laughter and shakes his head.  “I can make do with a pile for one night.  If you’ve got an empty block and some spare shit I can make one.”

You do, thankfully, have plenty of space.  Dirk and Roxy are technically staying with you while they’re in town for the premiere, but Rose asked if you could have the house for the night (she was definitely planning on getting laid in your guest room, gross.) so they’ve been abducted by the egharlcrockglish cousins for... whatever batshit shenanigans that lot get up to.  Rose must have really laid the persuasion on thick to get Dirk to hang out with his ex, but you’re not exactly complaining right now.

You set Karkat up in Dirk’s guest room and bring him a bunch of blankets and towels and shit, which he scrabbles together into a big lump in the corner.  He still looks miserable, and when he looks up at you once the pile is finished, you realise with a small hiccup in your chest that he’s considering asking you to stay the night with him.  And you want to, you want to give him that comfort, you want – shit, you want him so badly, in so many more ways than he’ll ever want you at once.  A lump grows in your throat and you clear it quickly, before he can... finish whatever thought he’s thinking.

“I’ll see you in the morning, man.  It’ll... you’ll... figure out where to go from there, yeah?”  He looks disappointed for a second, then his shoulders drop and he nods, looking like you just took a difficult choice off his hands.  Which, maybe you kind of did?

“Yeah.  See you in the morning.” 

You see him in the morning.

Rose isn’t up yet, thank god, but Karkat’s already found his way to the kitchen by the time you drag yourself out of bed and he’s poking around at random, presumably trying to figure out if you have anything analogous to food he’s familiar with.  Given that you don’t have a ton that’s analogous to human food, it feels pretty unlikely.

He hasn’t noticed you watching him fondly from the doorway yet, clicking in frustration as he seemingly gives up and pulls out his weird lumpy alien phone.  A moment later, to your surprise, your normal flat human phone buzzes silently in your pocket.

-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling turntechGodhead [TG] --

CG: GOOD USELESS HUMAN MORNING.
CG: IF I WERE TALKING TO YOU, I WOULD TELL YOU THAT I FOUND A MUCH MORE ENJOYABLE WAY TO SPEND MY EARTH EVENING THAN WATCHING MOVIES WITH YOU.
CG: BUT I’M STILL NOT TALKING TO YOU.
CG: MORE IMPORTANTLY, WHERE IN EARTH NUTRITIONBLOCKS DO THEY KEEP THE GRUBLOAF?
TG: dude you had a good evening and now youre in an earth nutritionblock
TG: this is your most successful attempt to make me jealous yet
TG: how big is dave striders hog
TG: whats it smell like
TG: any ass tattoos
TG: on either of you actually

It feels... strangely perverse to be messaging him as TG while you’re standing right behind him as Dave.  He still hasn’t noticed you though, and this is too much fun to resist.

CG: CONGRATULATIONS!  YOU SENT MY DISGUST NODES INTO OVERDRIVE, NO FUCKING BREAKFAST FOR KARKAT AFTER ALL!
CG: IF THE EARTH NUTRITIONBLOCK I WAS IN *WAS* STRIDER’S, WHICH I *DID NOT FUCKING SAY IT WAS*, IT WOULD BE FOR ENTIRELY NON-SEXUAL REASONS.
CG: SOMETIMES A GUY JUST CRASHES AT HIS WORST HUMAN BRO’S HIVE FOR NO REASON.  PLATONICALLY.
CG: PLEASE NOTE THAT STRIDER IS NOW MY WORST HUMAN BRO WHO I DON’T CRASH WITH.  NO LONGER YOU.  BECAUSE YOU WON’T FUCKING LET ME VISIT.
TG: arent you also not crashing with me though
TG: im just sayin too many nots and donts got away from you a bit there
CG: FUCK YOU.
CG: JUST TELL ME WHERE THE HUMAN EQUIVALENT TO GRUBLOAF IS SO I CAN GO BACK TO NOT TALKING TO YOU.

“What’re you looking for?”  He looks so incensed that you can’t resist needling him out loud, quickly setting your phone on the counter so it won’t look like you were just messaging him.  Even though you totally were.

Startling him was almost certainly the wrong move, but you don’t regret it, seeing the insane journey his face goes on in the seconds after you speak.  You can only imagine what’s going on in his weird little head. 

“Nothing.”  He snaps and glances away, apparently giving up on whatever tirade was building in there for a second.  He looks... shy, almost, and it hits you that after that comfort sesh last night, you’re... kind of dealing with the aftermath of a one night stand, only without any of the good bit.  Well, the bit that you would think of as the good bit, anyway.  Not that what happened wasn't good, just definitionally... ugh.  Too much alien shit too early in the morning.

“Bread’s in the pantry if you want toast.”  You gesture as you cross to the fridge in search of aj, deliberately not brushing against him as your paths cross.  Even now you tense a little any time you need to open a fridge, and you’re glad he seems far too preoccupied to notice the intuitive jump back you do, even though you know there’s nothing in there but aj and whatever leftovers you’ve got lying around.

He’s really preoccupied, actually, and as you’re pouring yourself a glass it occurs that he paused halfway to the pantry and hasn’t moved since.  He’s just staring down at the counter.

At your phone on the counter.

At your conversation on your phone on the counter.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, fuck, shit, fuck.

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