#starring-perceptor

replied to your

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Like my response when Aki was upset about Lanq was...

pretty sure it’s because all the people who are in charge now are the ones that have all the toxic loathing and none of the restraint to keep their vitriol to themselves

My toxic loathing takes the form of sitting at a smoke filled bar, nursing my fourth whiskey of the night. I have both arms on the bar, and I’m playing with the edge of the ashtray in front of me, a cigarette hanging limply from my mouth. As the bartender comes to check up on me, I merely nod, tired. I’m okay. I’ve been okay for a while.

Right about the time the nicotine and alcohol hit me hard, I’m ready to go home. As I call for an Uber, I try to sober up a little in the chilly night air. My Uber takes 10 minutes longer than projected. I’m cold by the time the beat up old Chevy pulls in front of me. The window rolls down.

The driver is John Egbert, and he stops to stare at me. Then he quietly reaches over to the passenger seat and pulls an egg carton into his lap. He opens it. Inside are 8 brown, speckled eggs. He holds one up, as if to show me. I blink. 

He throws the egg at me. It hits me square in the glasses. He then drives off.

procedure

In which Vixxen tries to teach Bucky how to do human things, like building a TV stand from shitty IKEA instructions

“Okay, how does this go again?”

Unpopular opinion: Korrasami wasn’t rushed. I’m literally watching through the series right now and the writers have been building that shit since season 2 - they literally spend all of their spare time bonding and being together. Even if they didn’t ultimately end up as a couple, they were obviously getting quite close, but nobody would have said their friendship was rushed if things hasn’t escalated. Like. How exactly was this rushed. I am not seeing rushed.

OMG THIS!

“What are you doing?”

Kankri looked up from his book to see Kurloz deeply focused on his sketchbook. It wasn’t unusual for Kankri to see his palemate working on something in there but it was a little odd that he kept glancing up at Kankri every couple of strokes. 

Seeing Kankri had looked up, Kurloz’s stitched lips pulled up into a frown. He raised his non-dominant hand to sign even as he continued to draw. 

Stop moving. 

Kankri blinked and his cheeks went bright red, the color spreading straight to his ears as he realised what Kurloz was doing. With a flustered huff he went back to reading, glancing up to see the little satisfied smile on Kurloz’s lips as the original pose was back.

It was almost half an hour later that Kurloz got up. Kankri’s ears twitched and he looked up, almost excited to see how his diamond had portrayed him. There, on the page, sat a much more graceful, elegant Kankri than the Vantas had ever seen himself to be. All long lines and sleek curves, even his nubby little horns look beautiful, his lower lip bitten full and soft by his constant worrying. Kankri admired it, then his ears drooped. “I don’t look like that,” He said. “The real me–”

The real you looks exactly like that to me.

Kurloz smiled as he signed out the words and Kankri blushed straight to the tips of his ears. He gave a flustered grumble and butted his horn against Kurloz’s jaw in a stubborn show of affection. Kurloz chuckled, patting his hair gently.

“Shooooosh.”

“Don’t you fucking shoosh me.” Karkat’s eyes were bright red and burning with fury as he looked at his best friend and the resident psion of their group, Sollux. “You lispy little nooksore, did you seriously think for one goddamn second that I’d let you get away with more stupid, nonsensical self-sacrificing bullshit?!”

Sollux sat on a log and poked idly at a nearby drone hull with his psionics. The thing was well and truly dead, thanks to the veritable tornado he called his best friend and his sickles. He huffed lightly.

“I didn’t think-”

“No, you clearly didn’t!” Karkat’s voice was rising to a shriek now, high and enraged. His eyes and cheeks were wet but Sollux seriously doubted that Karkat even noticed the red tears streaming down his face. “You clearly were not thinking! If you were thinking you wouldn’t have notified the goddamn helmshunters to your coordinates and walked out to meET THEM LIKE A FUCKING–”

Shooooosh.” Sollux stood up this time and carefully edged towards his best friend. The other was still steaming mad, furious even, and still wielding his sickles. Sollux was smart enough to realise that even he was in danger if he made the wrong move while Karkat was riled up like this. “Deep breaths, alright? I wasn’t going to actually go with them. Do you seriously think I’m that stupid?”

Karkat’s teeth bared and he gave a spitting little snarl. “I think you’re that reckless.”

Sollux inched backwards for a moment, hesitant. He didn’t like getting close to trolls that could easily rip out his throat, but this was Karkat, and right now, Karkat needed him.

“Come on.” He said. There was a pleading little note to his voice, quiet and pitiful, trying to appeal to Karkat’s paler tendencies. He moved slow so the antsy troll could telegraph his every movement, reaching out for Karkat’s cheek. “Deep breaths. Shooosh, Karkat. See, they’re dead-”

“Thanks to me.” He was growling now, but at least Karkat was starting to relax. 

“-thanks to you, but I could have taken them out myself. I was going to before you showed up.”

“Bullshit!” Karkat spat, and Sollux flinched. “You’re curious, aren’t you? Ever since you found out about him–”

Sollux looked away. “…Maybe I was waiting until I had proof before I did anything.” He admitted. Karkat snarled again and his fists clenched on his sickles. Sollux had to fight the urge to move back, freezing up out of pure fear. He normally wouldn’t be afraid of Karkat but the other was this close to being in a rage and Sollux was far too close for even a delicate optic blast to be anything short of deadly.

“By the time you had proof you’d be hanging in those wires right beside him, you insufferable idiotic smear!” Karkat hissed. Even in the situation that stung; Karkat wasn’t normally one to call his friends down to the dirt even with his colourful vocabulary. “Is that what you want? Is that what you think he would want?!”

Sollux sighed softly, swallowed, cupped Karkat’s face and wiped away the fresh tears. Now that he was touching the other again he could tell that Karkat was trembling violently. 

“You’re right.” He said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

Sollux’s hands brushed against the bases of Karkat’s horns as they arched off his forehead and Karkat let out a warbling chirp. Under all that rage he’d been terrified and Sollux’s heart throbbed with pity.

The Signless didn’t really know what to think of the crudely written card and clearly wild picked flowers that were hovering an inch from his face.

Tentatively, he plucked the card from the air, hoping that there was enough control of the psionic energy around them not to shock him. He breathed a sigh of relief when all he got was a pleasant little tingle. Unfortunately, the control over both the flowers and the card went out at once so he had to scramble to catch the loosely tied bouquet before he could read what had been written.

Kanny, The card read in childish handwriting. Some words were scratched out, clearly misspelled and retried.

Mew wanted two wriite the card but II iin2ii2ted. (The S’s were all backwards, how cute. Meulin would have to correct Mituna on that later but right now Kankri couldn’t help but adore it.) We’ve been fiightiing over who 2hould be your mate2priit and we can’t wiin 2o we’re a2kiing you two choo2e.

Mew 2ay2 that come2 off weiird. Whatever.

The Signless chuckled softly and shook his head, looking around. From one corner of the camp he could see Mother cooking by the fire, humming softly, and their ring of tents. From the other, a row of thick trees and the river. Behind a set of bushes he spotted two bright pairs of eyes - one red and blue, the other bright olive - that widened the moment he took a step towards them.

“You two don’t have to hide and watch, you know. Which one of you figured out that I like forget-me-nots?” He asked, an amused tone to his voice. 

Instantly both of them stood up, Mituna comically towering sticklike and bony over the short, muscular woman. “She did,” He said, sounding like he was admitting defeat. Meulin glowed with pride. 

Kankri shook his head with a smile. “And you wrote the note?”

“I did.” This time it was Mituna’s turn to grin, all fangs behind his thin lips. Meulin pouted, signing. I had to correct his spelling.

“I noticed.” There was no mocking in the Signless’ voice, only understanding. He looked between them both. They wanted him to choose, but really, how could he? “So, you really want to know which one of you I would take as my matesprit?”

Both of them nodded eagerly. Kankri smiled, taking both their hands and leaning up to kiss first Mituna, then Meulin tenderly. Both of them looked stunned and Kankri had to laugh, shaking his head.

“So, you mean --” Mituna started, and Meulin finished, though her voice was a tad loud in her excitement.

“Both...?”

Kankri nodded, still laughing. Their faces were priceless. “Really, you two, you should have seen this coming a mile away. Especially you, Meu.”

Meulin huffed and folded her arms, but when he pulled the both of them in for a tight embrace, neither one of them complained.

The fist hit Cronus’ face before he could even think to react.

When his therapist had told Cronus he needed to learn how to get his feelings out constructively, he didn’t think this was what she meant. But hell, this definitely helped. 

The crowd around the pavement ring was baying for blood as he went down with a solid thud and an ‘oof’. That stung. The left side of his jaw radiated pain and he rubbed it as he got up again. His opponent, a person much taller and much more threatening than him who went only by Dualscar in the ring, smirked at him lightly.

“Just stay down, boy. Give up.”

“Not bloody likely.” Cronus rolled his shoulders, subtly adjusting the ace bandages under his bloodied white tanktop before squaring off again. His wrapped hands rolled into fists and he raised his arms in a boxer’s guarding stance. 

Dualscar laughed and lunged again, but this time he was ready. He ducked and weaved, aiming a sharp jab at the taller man’s ribs. He was blocked by the hardest slap he’d ever felt in his life. It knocked him to the ground again and he gave a grunt as he rolled across the cement.

Along the sidelines Cronus could see his best friend looking at him nervously, hands clenched into fists at his stomach in worry. Horuss gave him a thumbs down; pull out now, you can’t keep going like this. Four matches is enough, don’t ruin it.

Cronus looked away.

“You’re outta your league, boy,” Dualscar taunted. “Come on, now, you mighta beat the other whelps here but you’re not gettin’ by me.”

Cronus spat onto the concrete and there was blood in his saliva. He wiped his mouth and looked up at the gloating fighter. It was then that he noticed a wide-open weak spot and his expression turned from sullen and angry to a wild, almost sharklike grin. Hunger burned in his eyes. 

A shiver went down Horuss’ spine as he saw that feral look in Cronus’ eyes. Cronus stood up again and cracked his neck. While Dualscar wasn’t looking he pounced, landing on the other’s back and driving his heels straight down against the other’s lower spine. The larger man let out a yelp and went down like a stone. In any legal ring, that would definitely disqualify him.

But this wasn’t a legal ring. Anything went here except weapons and the short Ampora was going to take advantage of that.

“Get offa me!” Dualscar growled, his face firmly mashed into the cement. Cronus’ grin only widened. He knelt down, pinning Dualscar. Both of them knew it; knockout was the only way to win. He pulled Dualscar’s head up roughly by the hair, a bloodthirsty look in his eyes.

“Nah.” He said, clicking his tongue and giving the older man a wink before slamming his head down into the concrete with a sickening crunch.

“Was that really necessary?”

Horuss was still grumbling as he drove not one, but two bruised and bloody bodies back to their house. Cronus Ampora Sr. had one hell of a migraine and would likely have to stay up all night to stave off a coma from his son’s final move, but he was glowing with pride. Cronus Junior looked no better, the left side of his face swollen under his ice pack and his nose once again broken from a previous fight.

“Oh, totally!” He said, giving a faint wheeze in an attempt to laugh. “About time I got a win over my old man. What do you think, huh, Pops?”

“I don’t say I’ll be doin’ much thinkin’ about anything til this concussion goes away.” He said, but there was a grin on his face nonetheless. “But good job. Now pay up.”

Cronus matched his father’s grin with one of his own. He reached down between his feet in the car, grabbing his backpack. Inside was a thick envelope with a sizable wad of cash; Cronus’ winnings for the night. He split it three ways; giving one stack to his father, and one to Horuss. 

O - Space or starsU - Coming home

It was the most agonizing pain Porrim had ever felt - and then, the most ecstatic joy.

Ascending to godhood was supposed to hurt, of course - after all, one had to die in order for it to happen - and Porrim had prepared herself for the worst. But even the worst hadn’t been, in her imagination, the gut-roiling white-hot agony that she felt as her life slipped from her body.