Okay, first, some cursory information. I wasn't actually going to start this story, as I figured I should finish my current stories and do a drabble vote, but I figured that between my burn out writing Yugioh Sex Monsters and Hiveswap being released, I figure now's a better time than any what with the fandom waking up like some great and terrible elder god from the shadow dimension.
As I said in the summary, you shouldn't need to know much about Homestuck to be able to enjoy this, as the majority of everything will be explained, plus in order to streamline things, a little bit is going to be edited. The only thing I can't explain in the story without it being super obvious and cringey exposition is the troll romance. I figure I'll explain it now for two reasons: it was explained with essentially an AN in the actual webcomic, and since I'm going be to altering what they are slightly, both Homestuck fans and newbies alike should hear this.
The basic idea is that there are four different kinds of romantic love, each with an associated color and symbol. Red love, associated with the heart, is basically everything you think of normal romantic love.
Black love, associated with the spade, is a hateful romance with a rival or even a full on enemy who has just enough positive traits that you want to like them, but just can't because of their negatives. If the feeling is mutual, the result is spicy hate sex.
Pale love, associated with the diamond, is less passionate than the others, to the point that it could be confused for just really good friendship. Two people who need help in their own lives pair bond and help each other get through life. In canon it was never anything more than that, but I maintain that sex can be apart of it as a means of stress relief and affection, just nothing more than that, and it isn't mandatory.
Finally is ashen love, associated with the club. This is a three person relationship, typically resulting from a blackrom relationship that's gone too far into the dangerous end of the spectrum and needs someone to step in and settle them down. Yes, I'm also implying that ashrom can be sexual between all three participants, for the same reasons as pale.
There, now Homestuck readers know what I'm doing and non-Homestuck readers understand what any of this is. Now allow me to address the Homestuck readers quickly before I get to the story: I already know what all twelve of the character's classpects are, and what they're all a symbol of. I want to see if anyone can guess it for the different characters before it's actually said in the story. There's your challenge, let's see how many of you can get it~
Alrighty, now let's start what will likely be one of my longest stories ever!
Brendon Morisum got up from his bed, wondering if today he and the others would finally be playing 'the GAME' as the others all addressed it. He wasn't sure why so many of the others were so antsy about it. It did sound cool, true, actual virtual reality, but his friends/acquaintances weren't just showing excitement. Some of them seemed almost.. worried. Oh well, it isn't like he didn't already know they were weird. Then again, he supposed the world they lived in was itself generally weird to begin with.
Brendon lived right at the edge of the human kingdom, his house so close to the boarder of the troll kingdom that more than once he'd seen trolls walk passed his house before recognizing they were in the wrong kingdom altogether. He wondered why the different locations had even been named 'kingdoms' in the first place if there was no king and they were directly next to each other. He guessed the Creators had just thought it sounded cool back when they'd appeared generations ago.
They were all gone now. In fact the last of them had died just a few years back saving the earth from a planet buster. What exactly the planet buster had been was still unknown, but with all of the Creators gone, humans, trolls, consorts, and carapacians had been left to lead themselves. He'd had to learn in school about how long ago, the species lived on different worlds.
Trolls, the grey skinned, striped horned humanoids with different blood colors that determined what powers they could have and where they were in the class structure had lived on a planet called Alternia. Granted, the blood color class system had been strictly outlawed on earth by the Creators. Some still tried to follow it, just out of instinct, but a personal heart rending and ear maiming lecture screamed from one of the Creators put an end to that real fucking fast.
The Consorts were supposedly the anthropomorphic crocodiles, salamanders, iguana, and turtles that were from.. somewhere. Where exactly was unknown to history, but considering the trolls being aliens, it wasn't hard to assume they were from another planet. His reasoning for thinking that that's 'supposedly' what they were was the that he'd never seen them. The human kingdom, or at least his part of it, was just far enough away that he'd never had to interact with them. And from what some of his friends said about them, he wasn't missing much.
Finally was the carapace kingdom, home to people that looked remarkably like chess pieces. Some were white as snow, others black a ink, all had hard, carapace like skin; hence the name. Some seemed to identify as 'Dersites' or 'Prospitans', but not even they seemed to know why they did this. 'Tradition' they claimed, terms passed down from the old days. What old days they meant were unknown to anyone still alive.
Stretching out as he stood, Brendon checked his inventory. The technical terms were fetch modus for normal items, and strife specibus for weapons, but he liked to use the word 'inventory' because it was just more convenient, and it pissed off his Kismesis which was always a plus. He used wallet modus, which was, in his opinion, the best kind of fetch modus. No need to solve puzzles or remember codes. Just open it and take something out or put something in. Plus it could contain a shocking amount of stuff. He could hold a car inside of it if he wanted.
He had two kinds of weapons in his strife deck. He'd started with just axe-kind, as people needed wood cut and were willing to pay money to have someone else split it for them, hence your only having a simple wood cutting axe in it. You had also gotten shotgun-kind the moment he'd been old enough. He'd never been in any kind of danger that would actually require a weapon of that kind, and had never actually fired the very basic shotgun he'd been allowed to get, and didn't even had it loaded, but he loved the idea of the weapon, probably because he had a thing for mafia stories.
There may or may not have been a poster of 'The Midnight Crew' , the most famous gang in history (in his personal opinion at least) in his room complete with had carve figures of all four members, but the only person who'd ever been in his room to know about them was sworn to secrecy, and there were some lines not even pitch lovers crossed.
Speaking of which, he could see his computer light going off in response to him receiving messages on PesterChum, a chat website that he estimated to be slightly older than God, but that his friends had convinced him to start using. Well, more like one friend who was the mutual friend of everyone else had convinced them all to use it. He had to admit, while he was pretty sure they were the only ones on the planet actually using the sight, it did seem to deliver messages faster than any other method available; which was saying a lot.
He went over, figuring she might have messaged him. It wasn't exactly her style, she was more of a 'bonsai tackle' kinda girl, but she did occasionally message him; usually to let him know she'd stored some more of her crap in his house while he'd been asleep. He still had no idea how the hell she got in and out of his house so easily when she was the most accident prone, hippo footed clutz he'd ever seen whenever he was actually seeing her. He half suspected she was just pratfalling to keep him fooled.
Upon opening up the sight though, he saw that he only had messaged from Jeff, Dustine, and Mutosi, known respectively as DecaTective, Chil4Dayz, and MighWay online. He logged in as FamiliaSyndicatior and looked at the messages that had piled up in front of him. It seemed Jeff was trying once again to keep the peace in the middle of an argument. They did indeed have a mutual friend capable of such a friend, but Jeff was not that mutual friend.
MW: No, Fuck this, I'm done, Get bent assholes,
DT: He didn't even say anything about you, he was just mentioning your culture.
CD: Truth, your ancestors were all the fuck out of whack. Either slaves or slavers, not your fault, just saying you know?
MW: Eat, Shit,
FS: Okay, not that I'm on her side or anything, but I thought we agreed to not mention troll culture around her.
MW: Why specifically not around me?,
CD: 'Cause you got that rustblood complex girl.
MW: The fuck d'you just call me?!,
DT: He is not making fun of you. All he did was mention for the record your blood color. He only brought up the history because you got onto him for saying 'rush blood' earlier, when that hasn't even been an insult in, like, three generations now?
MW: Well I still don't fucking like it!,
FS: Some one wanna tell me how this conversation started?
CD: DT was just trying to tell us about the game.
FS:... someone wanna tell me how the hell you got from that to talks over whether or not CD is a racist?
DT: Please, trying to work backwards like that will only leave you with two things: Fuck all and a migraine.
MW: Bite me,
FS: Well, if I may attempt to derail the argument, what about the game?
DT: Oh right, I've got everyone's copies out. We can start playing later today, just as soon as I'm sure everyone has theirs. I've still got to work out who the team leaders will be.
MW: About that, You never said anything about team leaders until today, I thought this was gonna be a free for all,
DT: No, it'll be two teams of six, and the team leaders get to decide the teams.
MW: Well I can fucking guess that you'll be one of the team leaders, What'll it take to make me the other?
CD: *cough* slut *cough*
MW: I will kick your dick in with telekinesis.
FS: MW, save the spade flirting for LS, CD, stop egging on, DT, either get OP on here or say what you need to say quickly.
DT: Well, I know that the two teams are essentially meant to be role playing as the 'hero' and 'villain' teams. I know I'm not the team leader, and I don't know who they'll be. I'm not actually deciding.
MW: Then who is?,
DT: Secret.
FS: Oh hell he's talking to them again. You promised you'd stop with that after they nearly walked you off a cliff.
DT: Okay, I've explained this to you already, that was someone else using their account. I wouldn't have even found the game if not for them, so yes, I'm talking to them and they're gonna tell me who the team leaders are.
MW: And since none of us know who they are or if they're even real, I look forward to finding out how you ended up team leader,
DT: No, one of the few things they were able to tell me so far is that I wouldn't be a team leader, which is kind of a relief if I'm honest.
MW: Whatever, I'm out. [MighWay has left the chat]
CD: Fuck she's grouchie, why you think that is?
FS: She's pitch for your redrom, so you're basically her rival.
CD: :/ / / me and LS aren't really a think.. like, on our best day pale maybe? Even if I did have a thing for him, I don't really think he's into humans. Like I said, I don't mind. Gotta go. [Chil4Dayz has left the chat]
FS: On a scale of one to ten, how far into denial would you say he is?
DT: Not my place to say.
FS: Whatever, so when is this game-
FS: Shit, she's coming through the window again, gotta go [FamiliaSyndicator has left the chat]
[DecaTective has left the chat]
Brendon managed to turn around from the computer chair just as his blackrom GF came hell for leather through the window.
Furlok Rustus woke up with a yawn; which turned into a cough the moment her yawning caused her to inhale hay. She still regretted incorporating hay into her midden-hive, but she supposed that it, like almost everything she brought in here, did help with the artistic flow, which was good. As a teal blooded troll, she didn't have much in the way of powers, but she did have some acute senses that-while failing to keep her out of harms way-did help her create.
Furlok got up, checking her sketch modus. She drew a clock on it, and the clock shed stored in it appeared, showing her the time. She grinned, she had just enough time to check in on some friends and work on her masterpiece before she went to surprise her Kismesis. She went over to her Grubtop, and logged into PesterChum. Part of her wished the old site, Trollian, hadn't been outlawed. Supposedly it allowed you not just to chat across distance, but across time. Sounded cool.
Three of her friends were already on, Aspico, Java, and Risura, or as they were known online, OmniPale, Born2Fly, and LuckyStar. She smiled, Aspico was always great to talk to, Risura was usually a riot, and Java was actually pretty cool, which wasn't something she normally said about people so deep into the human kingdom she practically forgot trolls, consorts, and carapacians existed on occasion. She logged on as ParkourPainter.
OP: I'm not saying you need to talk about iT, I'm only saying it might helP. Wouldn't you agreE?
BF: She's totally right you know~
LS: I.. I dOn't rEAlly knOw. I mEAn, I gUEss I cOUld trY tAlkIng tO hIm, but yOU gUys knOw hOw hArd It Is fOr hIm tO tAkE thIngs seriously.
OP: I'm certain he would take something like this seriouS, If only to avoid hurting your feelingS. Even if he doesn't feel that waY, He does still care about you a loT.
PP: WG talk!ng about Ri!ura's turbo crush on Dust!nG?
LS: ... ):(
OP: Must you be so blunT?
PP: !f ! don't, thGn who w!ll?
BF: QK, me, or in a pinch, FS?
PP: ]XP
OP: If you absolutely must knoW, We were discussing possible quadrant matchupS, I find it important to know where everyone standS, And so long as it isn't on anyone in this chaT, I figured it would be safe and comfortable ^^
PP: What !f somGonG that somGonG hGrG l!kGs jo!ns thG chat?
OP: It's quite unlikelY, I've had this chat made semi private so that only those I'm decently certain are not romantically interested in any of us in any quadrant or vice versa will be joininG.
PP: So ! takG !t wG won't bG s#!ng a cGrta!n soc!al buttGrfly !n thG chat today~
BF: / / /
OP: As a matter of fact nO, Though it truly would make these conversations safer if I could get definite confirmation from any of yoU.
PP: !t's a good causG, but !t's hopGlGss, no-roms are too cagGy for this.
OP: I don't wish to be rudE, But this is difficult enough as it iS. Perhaps you could log off now and we can chat about how your art is going later oN?
PP:... you two arG lucky shG's amaz!ng. [ParkourPainter has left the chat]
Furlok felt she had better things to do anyway, like working on her masterpiece for example. She left the computer and walked across the admittedly filthy floor. She told herself it was organized chaos, and while the clutter did help her think, the truth was that without a lusus, the animal creature assigned to help raise and look after a troll, she could only be asked to clean up so much.
Any time she felt lonely in her warm midden hive, built in memory of the lusus that had taken care of her in the early years of her life, she channeled it into painting, and what she was working on now required a lot of loneness, and anger, and confusion, and power to finish. In truth, she wasn't altogether sure what it was she was painting, but she was sure she could have it done before the game started.
She retrieved her paint brush from her strife specibus. Yes, she used paint-brush kind, and she'd heard no end of mocking about it; mocking that usually ended after a strife battle and a brush strike to someone's eye. She dipped it in the already prepared paints and got back to work, her brushstrokes forming the curves and point of a long, powerful tail.
She could only work on this for so long before she got a headache, usually resolved by rubbing her horns. They were dull, and flat, almost looking like small, rodent-like ears, as many soon to be paint covered trolls had pointed out to her in the past. Even her Kismesis had; and if he hadn't, they might not have ended up together. They definitely wouldn't have if he hadn't strifed her to a draw.
She got a shiver thinking of that first fight, his axe narrowly missing her foot as she brought her knee into his chest, her paint brush crashing against his head and covering his face in a deep teal. She'd wanted to bite his tongue right then and there, but it was another week of strifes and online arguments before either of them worked up the nerve to actually mention a possible pitch relation, thanks entirely to Aspico. They'd been spades sine the first hate-date.
She tried again, futilely, to get a little more work on the masterpiece done, but the flow was gone for the moment. 'Only one thing to do while I pass the time,' she thought with a grin, putting her brush away as she climbed up the ladder in her hive that led to her roof. It was shaky and uneasy, do in part to be very loosely instructed from anything and everything, but it supported her wait long enough for her to leap onto the fence that separated the human and troll kingdoms.
And it really was just a fence, as no one actually wanted any division between the groups, and just needed some kind of marker to know where one ended and the other began. Furlok held her balance on the fence for a few seconds before taking a leap into the air, actually managing a twirl as she gracelessly plummeted towards the wall of the house, missing the roof by mile.
Despite her failure, and despite her knowing now too late to fix it that it was in fact a failure, she still let out a triumphant shout of, "Parkour!" As her face smashed into the glass of the window. Said window didn't shatter and cover her face in cuts like it had the first three or so times, but rather spun as her momentum turned it inward, its hinges set to work almost like a dog door that sent her tumbling into the bedroom.
"Fucking nailed it." She said as she looked up, seeing Brendon, her admittedly well muscled Kismesis already on his way over to her, checking her to make sure she was okay. She'd told him in the past that it was awfully red of him to worry about her like that, to switch he'd slapped her across the face and reminded her that regardless of the quadrant, it was still love of some kind. She's slapped him back, and they'd proceeded to ruin his sheets.
Apologies for no lemons this chapter. Expect spicy blackrom sex at the beginning of the next chapter. This isn't the kind of story that will have lemons on a regular basis, it'll be story and character focused with lemons in it, so I figure I should give small warnings when lemons do happen in case someone's reading this and not in it for the lemons.