MIDNIGHT CITYSTUCK

Someone had thrown a grenade through the window of the Crew’s favorite greasy-spoon cafe.

“My money's on the Felt,” Boxcars grunted.

“No way,” Deuce objected. “Betcha it was some punk kids messin’ around.”

Droog shook his head. “It looks like an insurance racket to me,” he said. “Had to be some of Kingpin’s.”

Slick growled. “Can we all just shut the fuck up an’ find somewhere to EAT?! I'm starving!”

Droog rolled his eyes. “There's another diner two blocks over,” he said flatly. “Come on.”

He turned and started walking away, Deuce scurrying after him.

Boxcars shrugged and strolled after them with his hands in his pockets, and Slick scowled and trailed behind them begrudgingly.

The other diner was a small, dingy but surprisingly crowded establishment. When Droog pushed the door open, the wave of hot, greasy air created a sharp contrast to the unseasonable cold outside.

The bells on the door jingled, and someone in the kitchen yelled. “PAINT! WE GOT CUSTOMAHS!”

A harassed-sounding female voice snapped back. “Hold your horses, Jimmy, I'm- oops! Sorry, sweetheart- I'm coming!”

A short, buxom Prospitian emerged from behind a booth, balancing several loaded trays. She wore a yellow blouse, blue pencil skirt, and white apron. Her elegantly draped pink headscarf set off her round, pretty features nicely.

“Hi~!” she called out, panting. “Be with you boys in a sec!”

She then disappeared into the kitchen, where there was a clattering of dishes and a jumble of voices.

Slick realized he was staring at the place where she had vanished. He cleared his throat and turned around, only to find Deuce and Boxcars grinning wickedly at him.

“What?” he snapped.

“Ooh, you were starin’,” Deuce snickered, putting his hand over his mouth.

“Wh-” Slick sputtered, feeling his face grow hot. “No! No, I wasn't!”

“Yeah, you were,” Boxcars said, smirking. “And droolin’.”

Slick wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Shove it up yer ass,” he growled. “ ‘M just hungry.”

Deuce started giggling furiously. “Yeah- hee hee hee! Ya sure- SNRKT!- Sure are, boss!”

Slick gave Deuce a kick- not too hard, but enough to smart. Deuce yelped, stumbled sideways and knocked over a plastic plant.

“That was uncalled for,” Droog said, twirling an unlit cigarette around his fingers.

Deuce rubbed his side. “Yeah, boss, we was just messin’ with ya!”

“Go fuck yerselves,” Slick snapped. “I hear one more fuckin’- fuckin’ innuendo or whatever-”

“Gentlemen?”

Slick jumped and whirled, hand flying to the knife at his belt.

The pretty Prospitian blinked up at him. “Your table’s ready,” she said, adjusting her headscarf. The rosy lining of her joints flashed between her ivory shell plates. Slick swallowed hard.

“Thank you,” Droog said smoothly, pushing his way to the front.

She smiled and turned. “Follow me,” she said over her shoulder, setting off across the diner.

Droog trailed after her, and Slick, after a moment’s hesitation, followed suit.

Boxcars tapped Deuce, who was attempting to right the fake plant, gently on the shoulder. “C’mon, buddy,” he said.

Deuce looked around, blinking. “Huh? Oh!”

He patted the plant and scurried off after the others.

Slick's eye was fixed on the waitress’s hips as she weaved around tables.

Suddenly, she stopped at a table in the corner and turned with a flourish.

“Here we are!” she smiled.

He attempted to look away, but it was obvious from the way her eyes widened that he just wasn't quick enough.

Her eyes flicked up and down, then she smirked and gave a lazy wink. Dimples creased the soft shell around her lips, and Slick felt a flush of heat creep up under his neck plates.

“Well, you fellas just settle down here,” she continued, “and I'll be right back to take your orders.” She gestured to a chalkboard above the kitchen door. “The menu’s right over there; can I get you started with anything? Some coffee, maybe?”

“Coffee would be lovely, thank you,” Droog said, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

“Okay!” she replied brightly, pulling a notepad out of her apron and scribbling something down. “Well, I'm Ms. Paint, just call if you need anything--”

From the kitchen there was the sound of something crashing and a loud yelp. “DAMMIT, KACOLI!” the loud voice from earlier screeched. “YER SUPPOSED TA WASH THE DISHES, NOT SMASH ‘EM-”

“Oh, no,” Ms. Paint sighed exasperatedly, shoulders slumping. “I’ll be right back,” she promised, hurrying towards the kitchen.

“JIMMY! Don't SHOUT at her, she didn't MEAN it!”

Slick collapsed into the chair next to Droog. “Droog,” he whispered hoarsely, swatting the other Dersite’s shoulder. “Droog. Man. Droog. Did- was- she was- winkin’, right?”

“Stop hitting me,” Droog ordered, scooting over as Boxcars squeezed into the corner. “And yes, she did wink.”

“Yes,” Slick whispered, pumping his fist. Then another thought occurred to him. “Droog,” he hissed again. “Was she- was she winking at you or at me?”

Droog rolled his eyes. “Considering I wasn't the one who got caught staring at her ass-”

“I wasn't starin’!” Slick protested.

“-I’d assume,” Droog continued, “that she was winking at you.”

Deuce clambered onto the remaining chair and popped his head over the edge of the table. “What are we talkin’ about, fellas?” he asked.

“The cute waitress Slick’s carryin’ a torch for,” Boxcars answered, cramped uncomfortably in the corner.

Slick spluttered. “I'm not- I ain't- it's not a torch, okay?!”

“But you do think she's cute?” Boxcars asked, raising his brow ridges.

“A doll!” Deuce piped up, patting his hands against the tabletop excitedly.

“A skirt,” Boxcars agreed, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. His chair gave an ominous creak.

“A tight tomato!” Deuce said.

“A real looker,” Boxcars finished.

Slick buried his face in his hands and growled. “Will you stop fuckin’ TALKIN’ like that?! It's 2018, dammit!”

Droog pulled a newspaper out of his jacket and opened it with a flourish. “She is quite the choice bit of calico,” he said.

Slick rounded on him. “Diamonds, if you fuckin’ start I swear to GOD I'll--”

He caught a flash of pink out of the corner of his eye and straightened up. “Everybody shut up, she's comin’ back!”

Ms. Paint approached, balancing four mugs on one tray and a pot of coffee and containers of sugar and creamer on the other. “Here you go, boys!” she said cheerily, distributing the mugs and pouring steaming coffee into them. “Hot coffee comin’ right up!”

As she slid the mugs around, Droog kicked Slick's shin under the table.

“Agh!” he yelped. “What in the-”

Droog shot him a look over his newspaper.

“Oh, right,” Slick said hurriedly.

He leaned his elbow on the table in what was supposed to be a seductive pose. “Say, uh… You come here often, doll?”

She blinked and cocked her head slightly, and Slick started mentally kicking himself. Of COURSE she comes here often, ya fuckin’ moron! She WORKS here! Shit!

Then Ms. Paint snorted and started to giggle.

“You're cute!” she said, placing the last coffee mug in front of him. “But I hope you're not substituting compliments for tips, mister.”

Her hand lingered on the mug just long enough to be noticeable, then she tucked the trays under her arm and sauntered back to the kitchen.

Slick watched her go, a dopey grin on his face, then turned to the others.

They all looked back at him with disappointed expressions.

His face fell. “What?!” he demanded.

“Really?” Droog asked, folding his newspaper and putting it aside. “ ‘You come here often’?”

“I PANICKED, okay?!” Slick snapped back. “That's what happens when somebody fuckin’ KICKS ya!”

“Wow, boss, you have NO experience with redrom,” Deuce commented. “Well, I mean, even when we was hangin’ with K an’ his crew, you were SUPER awkward around ‘im- OW!”

He glared across the table at Droog, who pointedly ignored him.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Slick grunted, picking up his coffee cup. “An’ what about you?” he asked Boxcars. “Usually you're all over this romance stuff, yeah?”

Boxcars was rubbing his nasal ridge, eyes squeezed shut. Finally, he exhaled. “That,” he said flatly, “was one a’ the WORST displays a’ flushed courtship I've ever seen.”

“Aw, c’mon,” Slick objected. “It wasn't that-”

Boxcars cut him off with a wave of his massive hand. “It was… really bad,” he replied. “I mean- fer god’s sake, yer name is Spades Slick, an’ this is how you act around dames?! We should change your name to Spades Idiot.”

Slick scowled and took a swig of coffee. It burned his tongue and he choked, but managed to swallow it. “Hey,” he gasped, “ ‘S not like I've had much experience with dames who don't-” he gestured to his eyepatch and metal arm. “Y’know. ‘Sides, she thought it was ‘cute’, right?” He added, putting down the mug and making quotes with his fingers.

“Yeah,” Boxcars agreed, crossing his arms. “Apparently she's into morons.”

“Wh- HEY!” Slick shouted angrily, slamming his metal fist against the table. “I'm NOT a-- aw, fuck!”

His mug fell over, spilling coffee all over his lap.

“Oh, great job,” Droog congratulated him sarcastically.

“You shut up,” Slick hissed, jumping out of his chair. “Fuck- shit, that's hot…”

“My point is proven,” Boxcars announced.

“This is your fault,” Slick snapped at him, pointing accusingly. “Agh, fuck… Somebody gimme some fuckin’ napkins or somethin’.”

“There aren't any,” Droog told him, holding up the empty napkin dispenser.

“Shhhiiiitt,” Slick swore. “Fine, whatever…”

He began crabwalking towards the counter, cursing under his breath the whole way.

second-to-last section:

this section:

merry midwinter festival ya filthy animals have some goddamn slickpaint

unfortunately next update will be delayed as i have to go to california to spend time with my... very abrasive grandparents basically directly after christmas but by the time i get back hopefully i’ll have 2 or 3 additional sections done in advance because the only escape i have will be writing this

She wanted to gnaw on her lip, but her sharp teeth would macerate the flesh and ruin a perfect coat of $100,00 custom-mixed matte lipstick. Not that she’d paid for it, of course, but the thought was enough to make her resort to grinding one of her necklaces between her molars.

Fifteen years, she thought, mind boiling with rage. Fif-teen GLUBBIN’ years an’ they can’t even figure out how to remoby ONE lil’ scar?!

“Excuse me, your I-Imperiousness?”

She glanced over at the shrimpy scientist with blunt horns- probably a goldblood, according to the bioelectricity that tingled her fin tips- twitchier than a dying krill and twice as ugly.

“Water you want,” she said flatly.

The scientist shuffled their papers nervously. “Ab-about the procedure,” they stuttered. “Everything is going according to the sch-schedule-”

She waved a hand dismissively, bracelets jingling. “Except for the dam scar, amirite?”

The scientist nodded frantically. “According to the thaumaturges, there’s some kind of- of enchantment- most likely a blood oath- binding the- the subject and- someone else- together and aff-fording him- protection- from our attempts to-”

She groaned, rubbing her hand down her face. “Aw, shit,” she growled. “A glubbin’ blood-oath?! Are you cullshittin’ me?! THIS is why it’s taken so long to get this coddam project outta the harbor?!”

The scientist flinched.”Y-yes, your High- I mean your Imperious-”

“Clam up,” she ordered, and the scientist obliged, clamping their lips shut and turning yellow around the metaphorical gills.

She paced back and forth, hair trailing along the ground behind her. “Gahhhhh,” she muttered, gnawing on her thumbclaw, ignoring the hot pink nail polish flaking off into her mouth.

Suddenly, she brightened.

“So- this oath,” she said, walking up and pressing her nose to the lab window. “The other guy- or gill- or nonbuoynary, whateva- they’re still kickin’, right? Otherwise the glubbin’ thing wouldn’t still be in plaice.”

There was silence for a moment, and she looked at the scientist out of the corner of her eye. “You can talk now,” she said exasperatedly.

“Uh- yes,” they squeaked.

A nasty, sharklike grin spread slowly across her face, and the scientist took several steps back, trembling. “Soooooooooo,” she drawled, “all we gotta do is find the suckafish who bound themself to our lil’ guppy an’ krill ‘em, right?”

The scientist shuffled through their papers frantically. “Th-that appears it would do the, uh, the trick,” they agreed. “But how-”

She shrugged. “Figure it out, it’s what I pay you minnows for. Get the thaums to track ‘em down- maybe torture the shrimp so’s he glubs who his lil’ friend is. I don’t care.”

She checked her neon-piped diamond-encrusted watch. “Aw, crab- I gotta jetski.”

She strolled towards the exit of the corridor, heels clicking on the concrete floor, and waved again. “Take care of it,” she called over her shoulder. “I got an empire to run.”

Deep in the lab, someone started screaming.

...why am i so attracted to her she is a horrible, horrible person

also now THIS is the shortest section so far, hooray

Bit of background on the concept of blood-oaths in the MCSverse- they are not things to fuck around with lightly. It’s basically when two or more people magically bind themselves to a cause and/or ideal and to each other- it’s like the unbreakable oath from HP but also offering protection for the involved parties from the opposite of whatever movement or ideal they pledged themselves to. It’s basically impossible to break the bond between parties except in death, and even then quite a lot of the effects remain. Sometimes, when one of the parties has died prematurely, it binds their spirit to the other member(s) of the oath, causing the ghost of the deceased person to haunt the other member(s) incessantly, seeing as what they’re bound to literally flows in the veins of the other person(s).

Blood-oaths- the oaths themselves, not the people- can die if the ideal or movement the oathers pledged themselves to has died out or been squashed so thoroughly it has literally no chance of resurrecting, and all of the party members’ feelings toward that thing have become despair, bitterness, etc. However, the death of the blood-oath doesn’t exactly have the best effects on the oathers/oathees/whatever.

I’m not saying that’s why Slick is so depressed, but I’m also not exactly saying that the blood-oath that he may or may not have partaken in with [redacted] is going strong after all these years.

also why am i bothering with avoiding namedropping it’s BLATANTLY clear who the focus of this section is and if you don’t know who [redacted] is you probably haven’t been paying very much attention

to seal my fate i’ll just leave this here

The hideout was deathly quiet, the kind of quiet you only get when everyone's waiting for everyone else to broach the topic first.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Slick spoke.

“What the hell,” he said, his voice low and rough, “were you THINKING?!”

Karkat's eyes prickled with tears in spite of himself, and he looked down at his fists clenched in his lap.

Droog, sitting in the corner and wreathed by cigarette smoke, was as still as a statue. His eyes traveled around the room as if the tension in the air was visible.

Slick sat straddled across a backwards chair. His metal fingers tapped an aggressive rhythm on the backrest.

“I won't ask again,” he said. “I want an explanation for this- now.”

More silence. Sollux winced as Deuce, standing on a stepstool behind the couch, sponged the blood off the back of his neck. Aradia sat as still as her father, hair hanging in a shining curtain around her face, hands folded neatly in her lap. Tavros scrubbed his face with his hands, dry tear tracks running down his cheeks like amber slug trails.

“No?” Slick asked. “Okay, then I'll answer for you.” He stood up. “You absolute idiots snuck out past curfew to do some damn idiotic kid thing and practically gift-wrapped yourselves for our WORST ENEMIES!”

“It's NOT IDIOTIC!” Karkat burst out, jumping out of his seat.

“Then EXPLAIN it to me!” Slick roared, throwing his hands up in frustration. “What- WHAT could be SO FUCKIN’ IMPORTANT that you risk GETTING THIS ENTIRE FAMILY KILLED?!”

“JUSTICE!” Karkat screamed, going red in the face. Then he clenched his fists by his sides, glowering up at Slick through his bangs.

Slick's face crinkled, and he seemed to be struggling for words for a few moments. “What,” he said.

Aradia stood up. “What he means,” she said hurriedly, “is that Karkat was trying to do something good, and we just wanted to help him.”

“Aww, that's nice!” Deuce said, patting Sollux between the horns. “Good for-”

“Deuce,” Droog said warningly. “Not now.”

He stood up, tapping the ash off the end of his cigarette. “Define ‘something good’,” he said calmly.

Sollux looked up. “Gee, I dunno, does ‘thtanding up to a centuries-old thythtem of murder and injuthtice’- ow! Dad!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Deuce apologized. “I just don't want ya to get infected- I wouldn't trust Die to keep ‘is pins clean in a million years…” 

Slick rubbed his face. “You were going,” he said softly, “up against the Empire?”

“YES!” Karkat screamed. “YES, okay, I wanted to- to-”

Frustrated, he ran his hands through his hair. “Ugh, I don't know!”

“Yeah, clearly you didn't!” Slick snorted. “You just thought, ‘hey, let's- let's traipse off in the middle a’ the night to piss off the witch who loves to MURDER IDIOTS LIKE US!’”

Tavros shuddered and dug his claws into his pants fabric.

Aradia sat back down and stroked Tavros's back, then turned her head and glowered at Slick. “We were going to the mall,” she said, “to tear down her flag. That's all. Just a flag.”

Slick gave a sardonic laugh. “Just a flag?” he said. “Nothing- nothing is just anything to her. You don't know what she's-”

“Because you won't TELL US!” Karkat interrupted. “All our goddamn lives, you've been warning us to look out for the Batterwitch in our closets, without telling us WHY!”

Boxcars walked into the living room, carrying a somewhat dented wheelchair. “I, uh… heard all the yellin’,” he said.

He seemed to be about to say something else, but changed his mind and set the wheelchair down.

“It's gettin’ late,” he said. “Maybe we should get to bed, it's been a long night-”

“No,” Droog and Slick said in unison.

Sollux waved away Deuce, still hovering around him with bandages and antiseptic. “No, fuck this,” he said, getting up. “I'm going to sleep.”

“Me too,” Aradia said. “We’ve got school tomorrow. C’mon, guys.”

She stood up and moved towards the hall.

Quick as lightning, Droog's hand snaked out and wrapped around her wrist. “No,” he said. “We're not done here.”

Aradia tensed, standing straight as a ramrod.

“Sit back down,” Droog ordered. Aradia yanked her hand out of his grip and stalked back to the couch.

“Are you fucking serious?” Karkat demanded. “YOU guys were the ones who insisted we do well in school to stay off the radar and all that dumb shit! I have a chemistry test tomorrow that I'm gonna BOMB now!”

“Well, maybe you shoulda thought of that before you almost got yourselves KILLED!” Slick shouted, erupting out of his chair.

There was a tense silence. Slick sighed and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. “You're not goin’ to school,” he said.

“WHAT?!” Aradia and Karkat demanded.

“Aw, come on-” Sollux protested. “The fuck, dude!

“Not to school,” Slick said, over their continued arguments, “and not anywhere else- until we can fix this mess you got us into.”

“Are you fucking-” Karkat spluttered. “This is insane! This is fucking BARBARIC!”

“You cannot keep us locked up in here!” Aradia yelled, jumping up.

“We can,” Droog said, unfolding from his chair, “and we will.”

“No, we can't,” Boxcars objected. “They ain’t our property! They’re just kids!”

“This is to protect them,” Droog said.

“No, it's really, really NOT!” Aradia shouted, swinging her arms out wide. “This is punishment, this- this is DISCIPLINE!”

Droog slammed his fist into the wall. “And so what if it is?!” he demanded. “You are my daughter, Aradia, and I can discipline you as I see-”

“Oh, cut the BULLSHIT ALREADY!” Aradia screamed, face flushing. “Slick told me everything- you didn't even WANT me! You only took me because of my powers!”

Droog closed his eyes, and his face twitched. “That's not-” he began.

“Oh, I'm sorry, did I hit a NERVE?!” Aradia laughed hysterically. “I think this was the first time in my life I've actually GOTTEN to you!”

“Aradia, please-” Droog said.

“SHUT UP!” She screamed. Her hair began whipping in an invisible wind.

Karkat’s ears flattened against his skull, and the bases of his horns tingled.

The room filled with whispers- dry, fragile voices just below the range of hearing.

Aradia stood in the center of an invisible tornado. Her fists clenched, and she trembled almost imperceptibly.

“I trusted you-” she said, “I love you, Dad. Do you know what it felt like to learn that the man who raised you only took you in because he saw you as- as a tool? A WEAPON?!”

Droog looked at Slick. “You told her?” he demanded. “She had to know,” Slick replied.

Droog gave a rattling hiss and clenched his teeth. “And Karkat didn't?!” he demanded. “You had no right-”

“What?!” Karkat asked, looking wildly from Slick to Aradia to Droog. “Know what- tell me what?!”

Aradia growled, and the wind around her grew in intensity. The voices groaned and creaked, begging for something- anything- like a chill at the base of the skull.

The walls groaned and began to buckle.

“It's time,” Droog insisted. “They need to know- ALL of them.”

“They're. Not. Ready,” Slick snapped back.

“It's not about them, it was never about them,” Droog hissed. “This all happened because of your insecurities-”

“I'm... with Droog on this one, Slick,” Deuce said nervously. “Besides, it's- it’s been years, right? It probably doesn't even matter to her any-”

“It DOES!” Slick screamed. “You don't KNOW what she's capable of- you didn't see what she DID to him!”

Sollux got up off the chair and walked towards Aradia. “Okay, that’th enough,” he said, moving through the whipping wind like it was nothing.

The wind condensed into a stream of white mist, swirling around him and tugging at his hair and clothes with handlike wisps.

In answer, a flurry of sparks fizzled up around him, surrounding him like a second skin. The mist recoiled and dissipated.

“C’mon, AA, c’mon,” he said softly, putting his hands on her shoulders. She pinned her ears back and hissed, but Sollux just wrinkled his nose. “Ooh, thcary,” he said sarcastically. “I was there when you got into the liquor cabinet and barfed all over the hideout, remember?”

He put one hand on her back, and she slumped, but the whispering voices grew louder as the wind subsided.

“Murderer-” “I was here for days and days and days and-”  “I wanna go home, please, Ma, I'm sorry I'm-”

“Thtop that,” Sollux ordered flatly. He extended a hand and patted Aradia on the cheek. “Shoosh.”

She snapped at his hand, snarling. He rolled his eyes and wrapped one arm around her shoulder, continuing to pat her face with the other. “Shooosh,” he said again, drawing out the word so it sounded more like a breathy sigh. “Calm down, for fuck’s sake, and give ‘em a chance to exthplain.”

Saying this, he grimaced significantly at Slick and Droog.

Droog bit the inside of his cheek and turned to Slick, cocking a brow ridge. Slick let out a quiet rattle and turned to face the kids.

“You weren't born in a legal grub center,” he said flatly.

There was a pause. “That's it?” Tavros asked.

Boxcars grunted. “ ‘S not that simple,” he said. “See, the Empress-”

“Shut up,” Slick hissed sharply. Boxcars scowled. “Fer fuck’s- you're telling ‘em anyway, right?!”

“I'm not telling them everything,” Slick replied.

“Aw, come on!” Karkat protested, while Tavros let out a loud groan. “Goddamn, what does it take for you to respect-”

“Quiet,” Slick ordered. “We agreed, when we… took you in, that we wouldn't tell you until you were adults.” He looked over his shoulder at Droog, who shrugged.

Lowering his voice, he continued. “Wanted you to have a childhood first- ‘s much of a childhood as we could give ya in this hellhole, anyway.”

The kids looked around at each other, blinking. The room had grown quiet again, and a sense of momentousness hung in the air like Aradia's wind had before.

“There were some… people,” Slick said. “Criminals, freedom fighters, vigilantes- whatever you wanna call ‘em. They stood up to the Empire, and we-” he looked around the room- “the Crew, helped ‘em.”

Karkat snorted, and Slick shot him a look. “What?” he asked.

Karkat shrugged. “You don't exactly seem like the freedom fighting type, is all.”

“We're not,” Slick said. “There were… We had our reasons, okay?!”

Boxcars held his fist up to his mouth and coughed something that sounded like ‘crush’.

Slick whirled and pointed accusingly at him. “Hey, you wanna fuckin’ start something, asshole?!”

Boxcars put his hands up. “What, Boss? I didn't say nothin’!”

Slick turned his back on Boxcars and continued talking. “One of their projects was making a new brooding cavern.”

“Why?” Aradia asked, brushing Sollux's hands off of her shoulders and stepping forward. “What do the brooding caverns have to do with the Empire?”

“Uh, everything,” Deuce said, popping up next to her, eyes wide. “The brooding caverns are basically where the Empire starts. Did you know that they bathe eggs in nanomachine fluids to-”

“No they don't, shut up,” Slick interrupted. “But you are right about the caverns being where the Empire starts, in a manner a’ speaking.”

Droog shifted. “A fact that the Breeding Committee neglects to broadcast is that trolls are ridiculously inbred,” he said. “Only individuals with so-called ‘desirable’ traits are allowed to put their DNA back into the gene pool. Of course, with all the mutations and birth defects that come with inbreeding, there are fewer and fewer ‘desirable’ individuals left.”

“It goes farther n’ that,” Slick grunted. “They're killin’ wrigglers- too many of the same blood color, or unusually powerful psionics, or…”

His eye drifted to Karkat.

“Oh my god,” Tavros said quietly. “That's horrible.”

“It gets worse, believe me,” Slick said grimly. “But anyway. These… people were churnin’ out batch after batch a’ new wrigglers, healthy ones, an’ passin’ em off to lusii who normally wouldn’t have gotten a charge, or supportive adults- anyone they could find. Must’ve been three years into it when…”

He paused, closed his eye, and inhaled.

“She came,” he said, in an ice-cold voice. “Her an’ her- her cultists, her hired thugs.”

He stopped and looked down, clenching his jaw.

Droog looked over at him and exhaled. “It was a massacre,” he continued. “I wasn't there when it happened, but I saw what was left afterwards.” The crease between his brow ridges deepened. “There… wasn’t actually much to see, but it was more than enough.”

“They killed all the babies,” Deuce said in a soft voice. “All of ‘em.”

“Well, not all of ‘em,” Boxcars said, placing a hand on Tavros’s shoulder.

Slick opened his eye. “We- I- found ya in an old trunk, a few days after it happened,” he said. “Somebody musta got wind that she was coming and managed to stash you away.”

There was a long, heavy silence.

“So, wait,” Karkat said. “Why didn’t- why didn’t you just… give us away? Pass us off to some orphanage or grub center or something?”

Slick rubbed his face. “We couldn’t give you to any damn grub center,” he grumbled. “You’d’ve gotten squashed like a bug the moment they set eyes on ya. At that point, it was take you in or leave you to die.”

“We took the rest of ya ‘cause four guys an’ four kids seemed less suspicious than four guys an’ one kid,” Boxcars said. “ ‘Sides- we owed ‘em- those freedom fighters- a lot. So we applied as your co-guardians, an’ here we are.”

There was another pause.

“...That’s it?” Karkat asked flatly.

Slick frowned. “Whaddaya- whaddaya mean ‘that’s it’?”

“That’s everything?” Karkat demanded, getting up and beginning to pace. “That’s- that’s the reason that YOU-” he gestured to Slick, then to the other adults- “gave up- gave up SIXTEEN YEARS of your FUCKING LIVES?! Because of some obligation to a bunch of dead criminals?!”

“In case ya haven’t noticed, kid,” Boxcars spoke up, “we are criminals.”

“Guess there itth honor among thieveth,” Sollux muttered under his breath, and Aradia smacked him on the arm. “OW! AA-”

“What, are you sayin’ we shouldn’t ‘ave?!” Slick demanded. “We shoulda just left ya to get tossed in a grinder an’ squished into contraband grubloaf?!”

“NO!” Karkat shouted back. “I just- ugh.”

He sat back down and put his hands over his face. “All my fuckin’ life,” he said, “I just kinda- assumed- you guys were like, forced to take us or some… shit…”

Slick’s eye darted sideways to Droog, who looked away pointedly.

“And now,” Karkat continued, “with that fucking… fucking bombshell you just dropped on us…”

He sighed and put his hands on his lap, ears drooping.

“So,” he said suddenly, looking up. “You’re saying we’re descendants of these... “ he made quotes in the air with his claws… “ ‘Freedom fighters’, right?”

Slick frowned. “Yeah?”

“So we’re like...their legacy?” Karkat continued, getting up. “All that’s left of them? Their work?”

“I don’t like where this is goin’,” Boxcars said, but Karkat ignored him and started to pace again. “Then that means...”

“NO,” Slick and Droog said in unison. Karkat looked up. “But I haven’t even said anything yet!”

“Well, I know what you were going to say,” Droog said flatly. “That it’s your destiny to be a useless idiot and get yourself murdered by an ancient fish warmonger.”

“She’s not that ancient,” Aradia objected. “She’s only been alive since the French Revolution.”

“Ooh, only since the French Revolution,” Slick mocked, raising his hands to mime surprise. “Kid, the current Royal Circles weren’t even cloned then, an’ they live just as long as the fishtrolls.”

Aradia scowled. “All I’m saying is that the Grand Highblood’s almost twice as old as that, and they’re not even a seadweller.”

“An’ the freaky clown still worships the ground she walks on, what’s yer freaking point?” Slick snapped back. Droog got out of his chair, smacked him upside the head and shot Aradia a sharp glance. “Cut it out, both of you,” he ordered. “This is not the damn time.”

When he looked away, Aradia pulled a face at him and crossed her arms.

“The point is, she’s older than us, she controls half the world, and she hates any kind of rebels or insurgents- especially warmblooded ones,” Droog continued. “We did not take you in so you could die in the same fight your forebears did.”

“Well, what the hell did you take us in for?!” Karkat demanded.

“They gave us our lives,” Droog responded. “We couldn’t save theirs, so we saved yours. Satisfied?”

“Not really, no!” Karkat snapped back. “All you’ve said is that you want us to do what YOU say! How about what WE want, huh?!”

“If what you WANT is to get DEAD, we ain’t gonna LET ya DO that!” Slick yelled back.

“But I WON’T get dead!’ Karkat shouted back. “Why won’t you TRUST me?!”

“ ‘Cause you're just a KID!” Slick snapped. “You’re too young, Karkat! You think I’m gonna-- gonna let you run around out there doin’ whatever the HELL you want?! It’s too DANGEROUS!”

“I'm NOT a KID!” Karkat protested. “I can handle myself, you've SEEN I can handle myself!”

“There's always gonna be someone out there who's better than you!” Slick replied.

Karkat threw his arms up in the air. “That's fucking FLAWLESS logic there!” he shouted. “Then maybe YOU shouldn't do ANYTHING ‘cause there's someone out there better than YOU!”

“That's a risk I have to TAKE!” Slick shouted back. “I'm an adult, I understand the risks-”

“I’M almost an adult!” Karkat screamed. “If I had a LUSUS, I could've been EMANCIPATED by now!”

“Well, ya DON’T have a lusus, now DO ya?!” Slick shot back. “So that argument’s kinda POINTLESS!”

Karkat snarled and ran his hands through his hair. “WHY are you so INSISTENT on KEEPING me here like this?!” he demanded.

“It’s my FUCKIN’ JOB to KEEP YOU SAFE!” Slick said angrily. “I’M the adult here, NOT you, dammit!”

“NOBODY FUCKING ASKED YOU TO DO THIS!” Karkat screamed furiously. “YOUR FUCKING FREEDOM FIGHTER WAS DEAD WHEN YOU FOUND ME-”

“Don’t you dare,” Slick growled, curling his lip. “Don’t you fucking dare-”

Karkat gave a sardonic laugh. “What, you don’t want me to shit-talk your dead FLUSH-CRUSH?!”

“Don’t you DARE!” Slick repeated furiously. “Don’t you DARE- you don’t know anything, ANYTHING about him--”

“BECAUSE YOU WON’T TELL ME ANYTHING!” Karkat yelled back. “YOU TRY TO PACIFY ME WITH THAT PISS-POOR EXCUSE FOR AN EXPLANATION AND THEN HAVE THE NERVE TO INSULT MY INTELLIGENCE-”

“I CAN’T LOSE YOU AGAIN, KASS!!” Slick yelled.

There was a deafening silence.

“Uh-ohhh,” Deuce muttered.

Slick spluttered. “I- fuck- I mean- Karkat. I can’t… lose…you.”

“You’re a shit liar, Boss,” Boxcars said from the couch.

Slick ignored him. “Bed,” he ordered. “Now.”

“Hey, whoa, whoa,” Sollux protested, standing up. “Thlick, you can’t just drop that bombshell on us and exth-expect us to just-”

“I. Said. Bed,” Slick repeated, an edge of steel creeping into his voice. “NOW.”

“Whoa, okay, jethuth,” Sollux said, standing up and raising his hands defensively. “Look at me, I’m going to bed.”

He hurried down the hall, Deuce scurrying after him with a bottle of antiseptic and some plasters. “Sollux! Wait!” he cried. “I haven’t put on your band-aids yet!”

Boxcars put his hand on Tavros’s shoulder. “You ready to go to bed, big guy?” he asked, and Tavros nodded and made a noise of assent. Boxcars hefted him in his arms and proceeded after Sollux and Deuce.

Aradia got off the couch and stalked down the hall, giving Droog a scathing look as she passed. Droog winced slightly.

Finally, the only teen left in the room was Karkat. He approached Slick nervously, twisting his claws together. “Dad-” he began. “Were you really- I mean-”

“Go to bed, kid,” Slick said, turning to face the wall.

“Dad, listen, I-” Karkat tried again. When Slick made no response, however, he scowled. “Well- fine, then!” he snapped. “Fuckin’- be that way! See if I give a single flying SHIT!”

He stormed down the hall and yanked his door open, stomping inside.

“FUCK YOU!” he yelled, and slammed the door, making the hinges rattle.

“...Well,” Droog said at last, unfolding from his chair. “That went well, don’t you think?”

When Slick said nothing, not even a scathing comment or a swear word, Droog cocked a brow ridge and moved over to him.

Slick was hunched over his prosthetic arm, running his thumb over a clumsily welded ridge that slashed diagonally across his palm.

“..I told you to get a new one,” Droog told him flatly, crossing his arms. “That touching tribute’s gonna come back to bite you in the ass when you least expect it, mark my words.”

Slick turned to look at him, single white eye gleaming in the darkness. “...What the hell are we doin’,” he said, less of a question than a despairing statement.

“This was your idea,” Droog replied.

“An’ you’re one a’ the idiots who went along with it,” Slick shot back.

“Touché,” Droog said, nodding.

There was silence for another moment. “I loved ‘im,” Slick muttered. “Damn if he ever knew about it, the oblivious bastard, but I did.”

“I know,” Droog said.

“An’ I love the damn kid now, too,” Slick continued, looking up at the ceiling. “I mean- not like that, obviously, Christ- but I look at ‘im- I look at ALL of ‘em- and I see him. Y’know? I see… what he was workin’ for. His dream. His damn-” his voice cracked- “his fuckin’ stupid dream.”

Droog didn’t say anything. He just placed a hand on Slick’s shoulder, and Slick sat, motionless, the only light in the room the purple-edged spark of Droog’s cigarette.

Eventually a cold, metal hand came up to meet Droog’s warm but rigid one.

There was silence.

batterwitch_in_the_closet.png

anyway HOLY SHIT WE DID IT, 14 UPDATES AND STRAIGHT INTO ANGST-TOWN. We did it kids... we climbed this whole mountain...

Ayyyy i bet none of you saw THAT ship coming, am i right? Ha... ha...

how far down the rabbit hole do i even have to be to think of a ship like that. i mean, no shade to rp blogs/groups, obviously, i actually just made an rp blog of my own, but it’s like those rp groups that have like this one ship that you have no idea how it came to be, there’s like no basis for it in canon and it probably happened by just messing around in the rp and eventually it was just like ‘whoops, ok, our muses are dating now’

even though this is more angsty unrequited love, like straight-people-su-fanon pearlrose

additionally:

Karkat, the pissy 15-and-a-half-at-the-most: “I’M NOT A KID ANYMORE!!”

me, the cynical freshly 19-year-old: ‘shut up kid ur like 12. its past ur bedtime. take a damn nap.’

anyway, i have 1 more completed installment, but I’m gonna wait until next week to post it/really try to bang out some more in order to get on a semi-regular schedule! 

Until next time!

The kids were literally twenty feet from the van when Ace Dick and Pickle Inspector caught them.

“Hey, easy there,” AD said, jumping to block their path. “It’s okay- we ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

Karkat hissed and whipped around, but PI was already behind them. He gave a little wave. 

AD approached them, arms spread in a friendly gesture. “We’re here to help,” he said gently. “Why don’tcha come with us, and we’ll get you somewhere safe.”

PI came up from behind and placed what was supposed to be a comforting hand on Karkat’s shoulder. Mostly it just felt uncomfortable.

“There, there,” he said. “We’ll protect you.”

“Oh, god,” Sollux groaned, burying his face in his hands.

It seemed like they were about to get hauled off to Social Services when Hearts Boxcars burst in out of nowhere and punched AD in the face.

He flew a good six feet, hit a lamppost, and collapsed, groaning.

“Oh my!” PI yelped, jumping back.

“Dad!” Tavros cried ecstatically. Boxcars bent down and pulled him out of Aradia’s grip.

“Are you kids okay?!” he demanded, looking around at all of them. Tavros nodded. “Yeah, we're fine,” he said breathlessly.

AD struggled upright, rubbing his face. “Owwww, fuck,” he growled. “Whadda’hell…”

Slick, Droog and Deuce hurried up and attached themselves to their various charges.

PI hurried over to AD and helped him up. “Ace,” he hissed. “We might have a… situation…”

“No kiddin’,” AD said, straightening up and glowering at the group in front of him.

Somebody cleared their throat, and they looked around.

Problem Sleuth stood behind them, hands in his pockets.

“Um,” he said. “Do I even want to ask what's goin’ on here?”

“It, uh,” AD said, rubbing his nasal ridge, “looks like we found the kids.”

“I guess,” Sleuth agreed, pushing his hat back.

Slick bared his teeth and growled. “I thought I told you to stay outta my way,” he snarled.

Sleuth shrugged. “I was in the neighborhood,” he replied sarcastically. “Now what in the hell are you doin’ with these kids?”

“None of your fucking business,” Karkat snapped, and Slick cuffed him on the back of the head. “Shut up,” he ordered quietly.

Sleuth's eyes traveled from Slick to Karkat- to the spade on Karkat's sweatshirt- to the appliqué diamond on Aradia's blouse. Realization dawned on his face. “No way,” he breathed.

“Ah, fuck,” Slick cursed.

“What?” AD asked, looking from Sleuth to Slick.

“No way,” Sleuth said again. “No fuckin’ WAY!”

Then he covered his face with his hat and started choking with laughter.

“Sleuth, what on earth-” PI began, then glanced at the Crew. His eyes widened. “Oh my god,” he said incredulously.

Sleuth bent over laughing, clutching his stomach.

“WHAT?!” AD demanded, planting his fists on his hips. “Am I missin’ somethin’ here?!”

Sleuth straightened up, wiping his eyes. “Who let you,” he gasped, pointing at the Crew, “adopt KIDS?!”

AD choked. “WHAT?!” he spluttered, eyes bulging. “But-- They-- WHAT?!”

“Welp,” Boxcars said flatly, tucking Tavros under his arm. “That’s fifteen years a’ secrecy, right down the flusher.”

“No, but really!” Sleuth cackled. “How’d that go- just walk into the neighborhood brooding center and go ‘Scuse me, we’re here to steal some babies-”

A purple jet of flame missed his face by inches, and he yelped and jumped back.

Droog tapped the ash off of his mysteriously acquired cigarette. “Next time I won’t miss,” he warned. “Now get out of the way if you want to keep your shell.”

Sleuth raised a brow ridge. “Oh, so that’s how you wanna play, huh?” He raised his hands threateningly, and they began to crackle with neon-green fire. He grinned. “A good ol’ light-on-shadow duel, just like the old days, huh?”

Slick and Droog pushed their charges behind them. Boxcars assumed a protective stance, angling Tavros away from Sleuth as much as he could, and Deuce jumped in front of Sollux, arms spread and chest puffed out. “Don’t worry, Sollux!” he squeaked determinedly. “I’ll protect ya!”

Sollux rubbed his temples. “You’re uh, you’re really inthtilling confidence in me, Pops,” he sighed.

The green glow around Sleuth’s hands brightened and grew until it was almost blinding-

Then a very loud default ringtone went off.

Everybody looked at each other, blinking.

“Ah, crap,” Sleuth muttered, lowering his hands. “I gotta take this.” The green glow dissipated, and he retrieved his phone from his pocket and answered it. “Yeah?” he asked.

Presumably he had forgotten to take it off speakerphone, because the young feminine voice on the other end was loud enough for everyone to hear it easily. “Where the hell ARE you?!” it demanded. “I thought we agreed you wouldn't go all night on a case without notifying me or Mom!”

Sleuth groaned and slapped his hand against his forehead. “Oh god, sweetheart, I forgot! I'm so sorry-”

“Don't ‘sweetheart’ ME, Dad!” the voice continued angrily. “Twelve hours away from home and not a single call or text! She's been worried sick, you know how anxious she gets-”

“Honey-” Sleuth protested weakly. “Kannie, please, this isn't the best time-”

The voice escalated in pitch. “AND WHEN IS A GOOD TIME?!” it demanded, and Sleuth winced, holding the phone away from his head. “DICK CALLS EQUIUS EVERY HOUR, INSPECTOR MAKES AN EFFORT, AT LEAST, EVEN THOUGH HE’S FORGETFUL-”

Sleuth grimaced at AD and PI, who shrugged. Your fault, AD mouthed, and Sleuth flipped him off.

“SHE’S AFRAID YOU’RE DEAD OR WORSE!” the voice continued. “I HAD TO STOP HER FROM GRABBING HER LIPSTICK AND SCOURING THE CITY FOR YOU-”

Several car doors slammed. “Ah,” PI said vaguely. “Er… Sleuth?”

“WHAT?!” Sleuth demanded.

“They’re getting away,” PI replied, pointing at the van.

The engine revved, and the van barreled directly towards Sleuth. He yelped and managed to roll out of the way, dropping his phone in the process. The van drove over it, and it cracked, made a strange staticky sound, and began to emit a loud, constant beep.

“Ah, shit,” Sleuth swore, jumping to his feet and launching a barrage of green fireballs at the van. Purple arcane circles shielded the van from his assault, and the fireballs fizzled out.

The van bounced away, turning a corner and entering the infamous mazelike alleyways of Midnight City. Just before it vanished from sight, Sleuth glimpsed Karkat flipping him off from the rear window.

“Well, fuck,” he said, placing his hands on his hips. “That sure was a thing that happened.”

PI wrung his hands. “They have ch-children?!” he demanded incredulously. “What on earth… and why?”

“Who fuckin’ knows,” AD grunted, wiping his face on his sleeve. “But one thing’s fer sure, those bastards don’t do anything unless they get somethin’ out of it.”

“What are we gonna tell the Chief?” PI quavered, beginning to pace. “This.. this is the fifth time in two months they’ve gotten away!”

Sleuth shrugged. “Whatever,” he replied. “We’ll get ‘em next time.” He made a fist and drove it into his other hand in a determined gesture.

“That’s what you said last time,” PI objected.

“An’ the time before that,” AD added.

“And the time before that,” PI continued.

“An’ the time before-” AD began, but Sleuth cut him off. “Alright, alright, I get it! God!”

AD grunted and removed his hat. “Welp,” he said. “I’m goin’ home- that was enough excitement for one day.” He paused and scratched his neck. “Besides, I’m sure Junior made Equius stay up an’ watch Batman all night.” He shook his head. “Kid’s stronger ‘n an ox, and Junior still manages to wrap him around his lil’ claw.”

He turned and waddled away.

PI put his hand on Sleuth's shoulder. “Go home, Sleuth,” he said gently. “Go apologize to your girls.”

With that, he turned and followed AD away.

Sleuth pushed the brim of his hat back and watched the leprechaun corpses vanishing in soft flashes of light as the laws of the universe caught up with them. Any who were still alive had long since slipped into the shadows, leaving nothing but trails of blood behind them.

“Problem Sleuth,” he said out loud to himself, “you're losing your edge.”

The constant screech of the broken phone grated at his nerves. He pointed his right hand like a finger gun and aimed it at the phone.

A green fireball exploded from his fingertips and melted the already broken phone into slag, silencing it for good. He blew on the tips of his fingers and grinned to himself.

And with that, he walked into the shadows, leaving nothing but trails of blood, tire marks and a puddle of crackling metal behind.

YEAHHHH SECOND CHAPTER FINISHED    ҉*\( ✧∇✧ )/*҉     

and on that note, the next chapter is almost certainly gonna be long in coming because i am sO STUCK MY GOD and also school is a thing

unfortunately

being high school is suffering

aNYWAY just drop me an ask/IM me if you feel like it, i don’t really have anything else to say here but I love and appreciate all 28 of you for sticking with me through this crazy, agonizingly time-consuming clusterfuck! 

Slick was beginning to black out. His vision was going blurry, there was a pounding in his skull and he struggled for breath. Crowbar grinned down at him with a kind of vindictive pleasure, going fuzzy at the edges. “That's it,” he said, seemingly from far away. “That's it, you bastard, go to sleep…”

Slick struggled weakly, but it was no use. His skull felt like it was about to split open. He groaned, and his eyelid started to flutter shut.

A pair of white hands grabbed Crowbar from behind, yanking him off of Slick. The pressure on his throat vanished, and he coughed furiously, eye streaming and throat burning.

Problem Sleuth grappled with Crowbar, attempting to subdue the leprechaun. “You’re under arrest!” the Prospitian panted. “You have the right to remain-- stay still, ya slippery fuck!”

Crowbar grunted and drove his elbow into Sleuth’s neck. He wheezed, but didn't let go. Instead, he kicked Crowbar in the back of the knee. Crowbar’s leg buckled and collapsed. He grunted in pain and clawed at Sleuth's face, but his blunt nails slid uselessly across the carapacian’s face.

Slick pulled himself up, his breath making a nasty whistling sound in his throat, and pulled a card out of his jacket. It twisted into a long, slim knife.

He tackled Crowbar, and by extension Sleuth, to the ground, leaning all his weight on them.

“Ack!” Sleuth yelped muffledly from underneath Crowbar. “Hey-”

Crowbar screamed as the blade slid into his side, and blood gushed from the wound, splattering onto Slick's and Sleuth's jackets.

Slick stood up, wiping the blade on his pants leg, and grinned with satisfaction.

“Oh, shit,” Sleuth swore, rolling Crowbar off of him. The leprechaun grunted and clutched his side, blood staining his shirt and jacket and dripping off of his hand.

“You fucker!” Sleuth yelled, pointing at Slick. “I was in the process of an arrest!”

Slick snorted and aimed a kick at Crowbar. “What, this piece a’ shit? He ain’t even worth arresting.”

Sleuth snorted. “And you're the catch a’ the day, huh?” He crouched over Crowbar and began applying pressure to the wound. Crowbar pushed his hand away, struggling into a sitting position. “Get offa me..” he grunted.

“I’m trying to HELP!” Sleuth said incredulously. “Listen, I- I don't wanna be insensitive here, but I have no idea how your species- how you work, and I DON’T want a suspect dyin’ on me!”

Crowbar ignored him, pulling his hand away from the wound and wincing slightly. As the carapacians watched, the gash in the green skin began closing, as if it by invisible sutures.

Sleuth tried hard not to stare. “Uh.. Is- is that normal?”

While Crowbar and Sleuth were distracted, Slick hurried away quietly. He got about ten feet before Sleuth jogged up alongside him. “An’ where the hell do you think you’re going?!” he demanded. “I ain’t done with you yet!”

Slick flipped him off and sped up, panting. Sleuth followed close behind, pulling a pair of handcuffs out of his jacket pocket. “Fine, I guess we'll have to do this the hard way!”

He grabbed for Slick’s metal hand.

Slick whirled around, grabbed him by the lapels and slammed him hard against a nearby lamppost.

“Listen,” the Dersite growled. “I've got half a mind to slit yer damn throat and leave you here for yer friends to drag home, but tonight I ain't got any time to waste on your bullshit. So stay out of my way if you know what's good for you.”

Sleuth blinked. “Um-”

“SLICK!”

Slick looked up. Three other Dersites in suits were approaching. The one in the lead waved furiously.

“Will you stop SCREWING AROUND and get OVER HERE!” he yelled. “It’s TIME to GO!”

Slick cursed and released Sleuth’s lapels. Sleuth fell heavily onto the ground.

“Next time you interfere with Crew business-” Slick yanked his thumb across his neck. “Keep that in mind, detective.”

With that, he turned and bolted away.

Sleuth got to his feet, adjusting his jacket. “Rude,” he snorted, setting off after them.

for how short this is it should not have taken this long to edit

Anyway l have to go back to high school tomorrow, pray for me

Also not to be a validation-craving weirdo but i saw that somebody was on the blog for a good hour at least today AND also that 3 people were also online today, i know this because that’s the most people that have been on here since i installed that new view counter

also WELCOME TO MULTISHIP HELL MY FRIENDS, that scene with Slick, Sleuth and the lamppost was very homoerotic to write imo

i feel like everybody (at least every adult) will probably hook up with everybody else at least once, whether before, during or after the events which i am currently writing

also a brief summary of this and the next chapter (not to spoil anything but):

Slick growled and snapped at Crowbar. The leprechaun pushed harder on the horse hitcher across his neck, and he gagged, feeling his carapace creak. 

Crowbar panted, running his tongue over his thin lips. “Just stay down, ya bastard,” he said, giving one final push for good measure. Slick spat at him.

Crowbar punched him in the face. His head snapped to the side, and he tasted blood.

“I said-” Crowbar growled, punctuating every word with a savage shove, “stay- the- fuck- down!”

Slick winced and let out an involuntary groan as he felt one of the interlocking plates on his neck crack.

Crowbar pushed his hat back, breathing hard. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna kill ya,” he said, “not yet. The boss is gonna want a word with you- with all of you.”

If Slick could have swallowed, he would. The enigmatic ‘boss’, or even ‘bosses’, of the Felt, had become something of a horror story in the city, even outside the underworld. No one had ever seen them, but it was said that when someone had done something to really get in the Felt’s bad books, they would be taken to their ‘boss’, who never left the manor. Nobody knew what happened to them in there, but a few weeks later, the bodies would turn up.

Usually covered in radiation burns.

Meanwhile, Karkat tore frustratedly at Aradia’s bonds. “Fucking- hell- piece- of- shit- TAPE!” he yelled.

Against the building, Fin raised his hand. “Uh, can we go?”

“No!” Karkat snapped, pointing the gun at him and Trace again.

Aradia hung her head and groaned. “Oh for god’s sake! Boxcars, YOU do it!”

“I can't do that!” Boxcars protested. “My hands’re too big!”

Aradia stomped her feet angrily. “Just get this stupid crowbar off meeee,” she complained.

Giving up completely, Karkat bent down and began gnawing at the duct tape.

“EEeeeuuw,” Fin and Trace chorused, drawing back.

“GROSS!!” Aradia shrieked, pulling away from Karkat. “Don't get your spit on me!!”

Karkat stood up, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Well, what the fuck else do you want me to do?!” He demanded, throwing his arms out wide.

A pendant on a leather cord fell out of his collar and swung there, the silver Cancer symbol gleaming in the light.

“Just use your SICKLES!” Aradia shouted. “Oh my GOD!!”

Karkat looked down at the pendant. “Oh,” he said stupidly.

He reached towards the pendant and tugged. There was a flash of light and a frenzy of static, and then he was holding a gleaming sickle with a brown leather grip.

Aradia proffered her hands again, and Karkat crouched down and started to painstakingly slice away the tape.

Meanwhile, Deuce pointed a revolver at Die’s head.  Die was crouched over Sollux, still facedown and groaning.

“You get those pins outta my son right now, Die,” the tiny carapacian ordered, unusually in charge. “An’ don't even think about pulling any funny business- I may not be smart, but I know funny business when I see it!”

Die, sweating, pulled his pins out of Sollux’s skin in a seemingly random order,arranging them in a small pile. Their tips glistened with mustard-colored blood.

Karkat tugged his sickle through the duct tape, slicing through the last layer. “Okay, it’s cut,” he said, tugging the crowbar away from Aradia’s wrists. She winced as the tape peeled away, but gave a sigh of relief when the crowbar left contact with her skin. “Finally,” she sighed, yanking the last pieces of tape off of her wrists and massaging them.

Karkat grabbed her around the forearm. “C’mon, Dad said to get back to the van-”

“Aradia!”

Droog was bolting towards them, suit spattered with blood. Aradia shoved Karkat aside and practically flew towards him, hair streaming. They collided with an audible thunk.

Droog extricated himself from Aradia’s embrace with some difficulty and held her at arm’s length. “Aradia, what the hell were you thinking?!” he demanded, gripping her shoulders. “You know we don’t want you to go out after dark for this very reason! You could have been killed!”

She bit her lip, the color rising in her cheekbones. “I'm sorry,” she said futilely. “We thought we were doing the right thing, and-” her voice cracked. “Daddy, I’m so sorry- we never meant for any of this to happen!”

Droog hesitated, then stroked her cheek briefly. “Thank god you’re safe, at least,” he said tiredly. “Where are your siblings?”

“I’m right here,” Karkat snapped, crossing his arms. “Yeah, hate to cut this beautiful family bonding moment short, but we are still in the middle of an active firefight here, okay?”

Droog stepped back from Aradia quickly and brushed down his jacket. “Don’t think you two are off the hook,” he warned. “We’ll talk about this when we get home, but for now-” he walked up to Karkat and snatched the pistol out of his hands. “Give me that, you look like an idiot.”

“Hey!” Karkat protested.

Ignoring him, Droog gave the pistol a cursory examination. “We need to get you two somewhere safe- where are Sollux and Tavros?” “They’re with Uncle Boxcars and Deuce,” Aradia replied, gesturing towards the aforementioned family members. Droog nodded, holding the pistol at the ready. “Follow me,” he ordered, darting across the street. Karkat and Aradia hurried after him.

When they got there, Sollux was sitting upright, rubbing the back of his head and wincing. Deuce was fussing over him like a distressed hen, and Boxcars and Tavros were looking sadly at the pile of scrap metal that used to be a wheelchair. Die was curled up on the ground in a fetal position, immobilized by a Stretch Armstrong doll.

“Sollux!” Aradia cried, catapulting herself at him and wrapping her arms around his neck. He winced. “Ack! AA- pleathe- I’m gonna puke-”

Karkat stepped around the pair and approached Boxcars and Tavros. “You okay?” he asked, laying a hand on Tavros’s shoulder. Tavros looked up and nodded. “Yeah,” he said sadly. “Except, now, I, uh can’t really go anywhere…”

Aradia helped Sollux to his feet, where he wobbled unsteadily.

“Where’s Slick?” Droog asked. Boxcars looked up from the scrap pile. “Wasn’t he with you?”

Droog made a helpless gesture. “I haven’t seen him since we were fighting Eggs and Biscuits!”

“I just saw him!” Karkat interrupted. “He was fighting that Crowbar guy!”

“Ah, hell,” Droog cursed, looking around. “Okay, Boxcars, Deuce- with me. You kids- get to the van.”

“But what about Tav?” Boxcars protested.

“I got ‘im,” Aradia said, pulling Tavros off of Boxcars’ shoulder and tucking him under her arm like a parcel. Tavros yelped. “Aah! Aradia, you gotta warn me before you do stuff like that!”

“Sorry, Tav,” she apologized, patting him awkwardly on the head.

“Right,” Droog said. “Can you make it to the van on your own?”

Sollux furrowed his brows, concentrating. Red-and-blue sparks crackled around his horns and from his eyes, danced in the air for a moment, then fizzled out. “Agh!” he growled. “Fuuuck- I thtill can’t do anything! This thuuuuucks….”

Karkat reached towards his necklace again, which was now only half a Cancer sign, and pulled. The remaining half snapped off of the cord and lengthened into another sickle, the twin of the one already in his hand. “I’ll handle it,” he growled, brandishing his sickles in a dramatic pose.

Droog frowned. “Karkat, I’m not denying you’re good with those things, but aren’t they a bit… impractical for a firefight?”

Karkat scowled, ears drooping. “Aw, c’mon-”

“Dad,” Aradia interrupted. “Relax. I got this.” She raised a hand, which began to glow a misty white, and smiled. The same white light seemed to shine out of her eyes and mouth, giving her an eerie, ethereal cast. “Sollux isn’t the only psychic around here, remember?”

Droog seemed indecisive, but Boxcars got up and placed a hand on his shoulder. His knees buckled slightly. “Ugh- Hearts…”

“Relax, Droog,” Boxcars said bracingly. “They can handle it. Right?”

He gave the group a significant look, cocking a brow ridge.

Tavros nodded hurriedly. “Yeah, yeah! Totally!”

The other three made varying noises of assent, Karkat making a point of ‘casually’ showing off his sickles.

Deuce tugged on Droog’s pant leg. “C’mon, D! Let’s go! We gotta find Slick!”

Droog sighed. “Alright, alright…”

He took one last look at the kids. “Be careful,” he said sternly. Then he readied his gun, turned, and bolted off into the darkness.

Deuce hurried up and hugged Sollux around the leg. “Keep an eye out, Sol,” he ordered, unusually firm. “We’ll be right back!”

Then he relinquished Sollux’s leg and scurried after Droog.

Boxcars took a few steps after the others, then stopped and looked back over his shoulder.

Tavros smiled and gave him a thumbs up, and he returned the gesture.

Then he lumbered off, fading away into the shadows.

Sollux wobbled slightly, and Karkat jumped to support him. “Man, are we getting in the stupid van or not?!” he demanded. “Or are we gonna stand here until another one of those green assholes jumps out of the shadows and murders us all?”

Aradia rolled her eyes and hurried in the opposite direction, Tavros’s legs swinging in time with her steps.

“Hey-” Sollux spluttered. “Hey, AA, wait up!”

He and Karkat hobbled after her.

Droog doesn’t know how to show affection

also ELEVENTH SECTION, yay yay yay

It’s 2 am where I am right now and I spent the last like 3 days editing this section it was such a pain in the ass i’ll tell you right now nothing went like i wanted it to and eventually i just gave up