#dra88le

You close out of trollian and your conversations with three of the people that had been some of the closest to you, and three of the ones that had lied to you the most.

At first, you thought the dreams you were having had been some sort of ploy to break you down, make you lose your mind, paranoid even. But in a sudden wave a realization, the dreams had a whole new meaning. It wasn't some sort of premonition, or just a play on one of your biggest fears, it was a sign. 

A sign that screamed you have been so, so stupid.

You pull out one of your desk drawers to pull out the map you had kept from the clone fiasco and smooth it out on the desk, trailing a finger over it until you reach a coastline, tapping it with a grin.

All your life, people called you a bad person. But none of them could ever understand. They talked about you behind your back, did horrible things to you, but still you persisted. You tried to be nice to them. You tried to be their friends. You tried to show them that what you did was for their own good. You tried to save them all. And how did they repay you? By being ungrateful.

You roll the map back up, adding it to your inventory as you race outside, taking off into the sky to fly towards your destination. Your plan was formulating into your head perfectly, step one already forming itself in the distance in the shape of a coastline.

You knew what they thought of you all too well, but you still kept trying. Some even had the gall to lie to you and say that you matter to them. And you believed it. Now, though. Now you were tired of trying, tired of lying to yourself. 

If they wanted a bad guy, you’d give them one.

 You finally spot in the distance what you were searching for. A ship, and it was full of other trolls. You fly in a bit closer to observe the scene. A group of lowbloods, and by the looks of it, they were having the time of their lives on whatever voyage they were going on. You smirk as you pull a cutlass out of the air, flying down to land in the middle of the ship.

What.

The fuck.

She looked around at the war-zone in her nutrition block with a blank face. There was broken glass. Food was everywhere. On the floor, on the walls, and was that food on the ceiling, too?

……..

She stepped over all the food to reach the sink and got herself a glass of water, then headed back towards the stairs. She’d think about dragging everyone involved back to the nutrition block to help her clean up later. 

She had managed to drag herself up the stairs of her hive and into her respiteblock and was now sitting in front of her computer. She didn’t even bother to turn it on; she just stared at her reflection on the black screen instead. Her face was still twisted into an expression of disbelief and fear.

She looked pathetic. 

Whatever.

She brought her hands up to her face to rub her eyes, trying to erase that look. She placed her elbows on the desk, rested her forehead on the palms of her hands, and closed her eyes with a short sigh.

You’re not much use to your group anymore.

She couldn’t stop hearing it. Over and over, it kept repeating in her head, even long after the battle had ended. He was right. There was nothing she could do to help her friends that were still around. There was nothing she could do to save her friends that were gone. She was useless.

She felt a sting of pain in her right arm for the first time in a while. She barely opened her eyes to look over at her bloodied arm. That’s right, she had been shot. How could she have forgotten that? The hole in her arm wasn’t very large, but it was still letting out a small, steady flow of blue blood. Maybe she’d get lucky and she would bleed out. No, she doubted that. It was barely bleeding now. Still, she was in no hurry to stop it.

Whatev8r.

Why hadn’t he killed her? He could have easily put a bullet through her head. But he didn’t. He just left her there, a broken shell of what she used to be. She hoped that he would come back. That he would have a change of heart and would finish the job. 

It was pure torture to leave her like this. She had never felt so miserable in her life, so pathetic, so weak. She didn’t know what to do anymore. It used to be, “When in doubt, fight through the pain.” But now she was lost. She had plenty to fight for, plenty to protect, but without that will to fight, all those things were lost as well. She no longer cared about fighting to save the friends that needed her help. Why care about something that you can’t do anything about?

Wh8tev8r.

She folded her arms onto the desk and let her face fall onto them. She closed her eyes again and let that pathetic expression return to her face.

Some training couldn't hurt you. Right?

The great and most feared Marquise, Spinneret Mindfang was your role-model and you've learned everything about her from her journal. You wished to follow her steps and be just as great as her but there was an itty bitty problem:

Quadrants.

You figured out that it'd be the best if you tried to have same sort of relations as she did starting with the blackrom you used to have with Eridan Ampora since the two of you were little (2 or 3 sweeps old? You never bothered to remember). However, this ship sunk once he became a desperate freak once his moirail broke his heart. In all honesty, you couldn't care any less about him and if it wasn't to be just like your very own idol you'd never consider to have him in a quadrant from the first place.

She has been in some sort of relationship with a jade-blood who was her slave which you got fixed, at some point! At least it looked like so for you. Kanaya used to be your moirail until, well, you suppose this ship has sunk too at some point because after what happened in the game she has been ignoring you and denying your existence. You never understood why. Did you hurt her? That something that you will never know becasue as said now you lost contact with most people of your timeline.

The most complicated part was the redrom.

As you know and read those pages over and over, your dearest idol used to have a matespritship with a bronze-blooded rebel. She described him in her journal like a girl would write down about some prince-like guy in her diary, despite the tragic end of the relationship. It was heart-warming, it was nice to read but you could never understand flushed feelings and you could never figure out how are you supposed to have red feelings for a weakling dork like Tavros.

For once you were tensed that something wrong will go between the two of you and your fate would be similiar to the same as your ancestor. You could not allow that, no.

To start with you felt a bit black towards that brown-blood and you could never figure out why. Maybe because he had so many things you could never have? He had a nicer lusus, much more friends and of course, many liked him despite how much he stuttered and made a fool out of himself. You assume that jealousy made you feel slightly black towards him and yet, to be just like your idol you tried your best in getting him to feel red towards you.

Oh how hard you failed with this.

It all started out as an innocent game, you wanted only to mess around with him to show him that you "like" him. And it ended up by crippling him. You soon realized that matespritship is unlikely to happen between the two of you and lost hope. Possibly that blackrom would work too?

So you told yourself over and over, trying different excuses but, there was no use.

You grew on violence and was familiar only with hatred. That's why every time you've caused him more pain, more suffering and more trouble.

And what? He always forgave you and it annoyed you to no end.

You were a monster.

Hateful monster that wanted to make him to hate her.

But no use, he was scared of you, yes.

But he never hated you.

You used to have plenty of mixed feelings about Tavros. Both black and red. Red because hey what if he will grow up to be just like his ancestor? All cooooooooll like and not such a nerdy doofus?

And black because he was the only one who could never hate the biggest bitch that turned his life into a living nightmare.

It is all in the past now though, as looking up at some deceased grandmama with an exciting life led you nowhere and even worse, made your life and emotional system more screwed up than it was before.

The definition of this word was nowhere to be found in Vriska's vocabulary, despite how much she wished to understand its actual meaning - no matter how much she tried she couldn't understand it.

Life taught her not to give a second chance to those who are weak.

Upon the cruel playground there was one simple rule:

Eat or be eaten