Fair warning, this fic will be much, much darker and more graphic than Little Fly. And takes place hundreds of sweeps since the last story left off.
Tavros had spent the whole day completely quiet. Sitting at the window of his respite block, staring out at the gradually dimming sky. It hurt his eyes a bit, but it was the last day he was ever going to see anything, and he didn't want to spend it sleeping.
It was conscription night. Tonight, at midnight, all the of-age trolls on Alternia were to take shuttles to the Rainbow Fields, named so for the muddled stain the earth had taken on after countless thousands of sweeps of it being the place where all newly adult trolls were sorted, conscripted, or, for a good many of them, culled right on the spot. The earth was stained with the blood of Trolls who hadn't measured up, mostly red, and brown, and tonight, Tavros's blood would join those stains.
It served no purpose trying to escape, or not showing up. His hive would be raided, and his death far worse if he dared to disobey the empire. And so, after a sleepless, practically motionless day of waiting, Tavros wheeled himself out of his windmill and through the field of sourwheat that surrounded his hive. It took almost an hour to reach the nearest shuttleport, but after that the trip was over painfully fast.
It was almost midnight when Tavros arrived, and found himself huddled within many hundreds of lowbloods like himself, many with disfigurements or injuries. Dronebait, in other words. It was strange how those destined for death seemed to find and flock to one another, with almost no words spoken between them. As it was Tavros simply bowed his head and waited for the Empire Motherships to arrive, uncaring of the occasional jostling of his chair by the other conscripts. He didn't even bother looking for any of his friends, it would only hurt more, in the long run to see them, to know that they were all destined for so many grand adventures, and his last adventure would begin and end tonight, on the end of a Culling Drone's sharpened spear.
Elsewhere, Gamzee Makara was also waiting. Lying on his back, watching the sky. He'd been there for a few hours already, and a veritable circus of Indigos had sprung up around him while he waited. Everywhere he looked he saw his Clown brothers and sisters, jamming together, braiding each other's hair, sitting in singing circles and chanting wicked mirth to the messiahs in miraculous unison. It was a thing of beauty he ain't ever witnessed before in all his sweeps and he loved every second of it.
Only thing missing were his best bros in the world. He knew Karkat wouldn't be showing up, not with his secret miracle blood which probably wouldn't sit all that good with the drones or the empress, but maybe Tavros...
Gamzee sat up, dislodging a pile of flowers a dreamy looking clown-sis had been laying on his shirt. She gave him an admonishing look and he shrugged.
"Sorry sister, gotta go find somebody." He apologized, and with a wave he went wading through the sea of indigo. The purple soon gave way to blues, and eventually to ceruleans and teals. By the time he was among greens he barely got jostled at all, the crowds of trolls parting for him like an ancient mythical sea of red Faygo.
"Tavbro? You around here?" Gamzee started calling once he'd reached the edge of the browns, but he didn't get to search for more than a second before shouts and gasps started rising in the crowd and a huge shadow rose over the Rainbow Fields. Gamzee looked up.
Gigantic ships the size of cities loomed above them, and from their gullets smaller Conscription pods emerged and began to descend upon them.
The adults had arrived.
The Grand Highblood piloted his own personal ship, commanding it gracefully to the ground. He looked over the trolls, separated by blood colour and waiting uneasily to either be killed or be commanded to board the larger shuttle ships.
He sighed to himself as he landed. He both enjoyed and hated doing this, though it was mostly hate. It was boring, for one thing. Stand around, look over the potentials, kill those that are unworthy, or watch a drone kill them. Motherfucking boring.
He landed his shuttle, exited the craft and into the midst of brownbloods, a large portion looking like dronebait. Figures he would land right close to this group. The drones were already flying down on their own, but hadn't yet gone through the flocks of wrigglers. He made his way along the lines, but a flash of Indigo caught his eyes. What the motherfuck was one of his blood colour even fucking doing here, mixing with rustbloods.
He stalked forwards, the wrigglers hastily making way for him. He nearly stopped short at seeing his own horns on someone else. Looks like he motherfucking managed to get another descendent. He could already feel that attachment he always felt whenever he saw a new capricorn.
He hadn't been pailing anyone but the Summoner for the last several sweeps, huh. His little fly wasn't in any quadrants, at least, none that were motherfucking requited. They sure as hell weren't Kismesises, but he guessed it had been enough for the drones to accept after all. Hah.
"The fuck you doing here, get back with the others."
Gamzee was stunned into silence and stillness the second the pod doors opened and the Grand Highblood emerged almost right in front of him. He recognized the enormous adult as his ancestor in seconds, besides them having the same sign, the resemblance was motherfucking uncanny.
"What?" Gamzee muttered in response to the Highblood's order. "Uh, yeah right. Sorry, just lookin' for my bro."
Gamzee stumbled backwards, as if to hide himself in the crowd, but it kept parting. Leaving him in a hollowed radius of at least ten feet in every direction no matter which way he went, and still there was no sign of Tavros.
This was because Tavros was content to make himself hidden, in his chair he was at least a foot shorter than everyone around him, and he bowed his head. His horns would be the only thing to give him away now. He had heard the whole exchange, and was stuck still with fear. It wasn't that he didn't want to see Gamzee, he was one of his best friends...but he didn't want Gamzee to see him get culled. Which was almost certainly about to happen.
The Grand Highblood considered his descendant. He was so motherfucking thin, and it looked like he was on something as well, he could smell the sopor from here. He narrowed his eyes. He was looking for a brother, in a bunch of brownbloods?
"Did it look like I was giving you a motherfucking suggestion?" He reached out to grab at his descendent, snagging him by the horn, and jerking him back towards the group of Indigos. "Get back with the others. I got plans for you motherfucker."
He did have something planned in mind, mostly keeping the shit under his wing and in his sight, if he managed to survive the drones. Hopefully he wasn't a fucking screw up like so many of the others had been.
The drones were going through the crowds now, pushing troll's either one way or the other. Screams sounded, and blood was starting to spill. Gamzee was worried, but let himself be pushed by the wave of greens and blues back to his group of indigos, who were on their feet now, being examined by drones passively, the majority being passed over on their way to the lowerblooded trolls. Gamzee couldn't stop his eyes from darting from brownblood to brownblood, searching for a flash of metal, a glimpse of a chair wheel.
Tavros was still frozen, unmoving, but he heard the screams starting up from all around him, felt the warm blood splash onto his face and lap from nearby. He didn't look up, he was too afraid, but he felt and heard the sounds of metal and claw slicing through the air, just over his head. Any second now, any second a drone would spot him and that would be it.
He closed his eyes, trying to let his mind drift. He wanted his last thought to be of something beautiful, the mythical fairies in his childhood stories, dancing together in fields of grain by twilight. Tinkerbull curled up with him in his chair, humming to him as he fell asleep. Rapping and laughing with Gamzee and forgetting, just for a minute, that he was awkward and broken and weak...
Flying, in his dreams...
The Grand Highblood watched his decedent go. He had some muscle, but could use some more. Needed to put on some more weight if he was going to look like anything respectable. He turned his attention back the rustbloods being slaughtered around him. He was getting blood on his clothes, but it didn't bother him, was kind of nice actually. He rather liked the feeling of it, and the smell.
A brownblood had run in front of him, trying to escape a drone, and ran into him. He grinned as he grabbed the thing by its head and chest, and ripped it clean off, delighting in the sound of its bones breaking and the flesh tearing. He had fucking missed this, had no time to play around and break anyone in the last few perigrees. Too much goddamn paperwork.
He was still holding the pieces when he got a good look at what looked like his little fly. He had been behind the troll who had tried to run, sitting in a fucking four wheeled device of all things, eyes shut tight, accepting his fate. The horns on his head were unmistakable, as was his face. The hair was different than his ancestor, but he had spent too long around his little fly to not notice the resemblance.
He'd got one too. HAH.
Oh, how he looked like the Summoner. His pretty little fly with torn wings. It brought a grin to his face. He had been his for so many sweeps now, and he was still fighting. It was muted, but still there, hiding under his skin, flaring now and then. It kept things interesting and kept him coming back, though it had been at least a sweep since he had last paid him a visit.
The drone that had been coming for the brownblood he had just culled stopped its pursuit, and had turned its attentions on the troll in the chair.
The head went flying horn first, piercing the drone's head. It made an angry buzzing sound, turning to its attention onto him. The body flew into it a second later.
"Back off, that little fucker is MINE."
He couldn't help the bloody grin on his face as he advanced, knocking the drone aside and going to inspect the little wriggler that looked like his fly.
"It's your MOTHERFUCKING LUCKY DAY rustblood."
Tavros still had his eyes shut tight, he heard the booming voice of the older troll that had reprimanded Gamzee, but he didn't look up. Certain the voice was not for him, and even if it was, it wouldn't be anything good. Let the adult cull him if he wanted, Tavros was ready. But he was staying in his happy place, nobody could take his imagination away from him.
There he was! A lot of the brownbloods had been cleared away and finally, Gamzee could spot Tavros. Sitting within a few feet of his ancestor, who was staring down at Tavros like he was a meal and advancing...
"Oh, shit." Gamzee muttered and took off in a stumbling run through the crowd back toward Tavros, unknowingly dodging the scythe of a drone who had gotten too good of a look at the green that stained his teeth and claws.
His fly's descendant seemed to tense more, trying to shrink down in his seat, like if he was small enough, he would leave him alone. How motherfucking precious, and how unlike his ancestor. It made the Highblood tilt his head in mild confusion. His fly would be spitting curses at him, and little oaths, which they both knew would never be fulfilled. At least this one wore his expressions just as his ancestor did, plain on his face.
He wondered how his fly would react to seeing his descendent played with.
He crouched down in front of him, a too toothful grin on his face. He grabbed the little thing by the hair, fingers hardly finding purchase. He would have to have it grow its hair out, what fun was a toy with no good handholds. Though those horns were always a good one, he'd found.
"Look at me, motherfucker."
His fear was so delicious, and he even smelled like his ancestor, he felt a slight shift in his sheath, but his bulge stayed put otherwise, now wasn't the time, but he was definitely going to have fun with this little thing.
Tavros flinched, crying out as his hair was grabbed. The vision of the moonlit field faded from his mind and he was brought crashing back to reality. His eyes snapped open and he screamed again. The troll holding him was huge, and terrifying. His face was painted, like Gamzee's, and in fact he looked a lot like Gamzee, but where his friend's face was kind and calm this adult troll was manic, and harsh. His teeth were gigantic and his eyes were dark with rage.
"I...I..." Tavros stuttered. He wanted to say 'let me go', or even 'if you're going to kill me just do it', but he didn't have the guts, not even when faced with the inevitability of death.
Gamzee had just about reached them when Tavros was grabbed and hauled out of his chair, and his blood-pumper caught in his wind tube.
"Hey, hold up a second! Hold up!" He called, and without thinking he grabbed at the hem of his Ancestors ribbed tunic. "Put him down, motherfucker!"
Tavros's eyes widened when he saw Gamzee over the Highblood's shoulder. What was he doing back here, he was going to get himself killed! Tavros was a lost cause, didn't he know that? Why would he come back?
"Gamzee, d-don't! G-get out of here, run!" He managed to squeak out. His words coming easier when not looking into the Highblood adult's eyes.
The Grand Highblood started growling when he felt the hands on his clothes. He narrowed his eyes and looked over his shoulder at the troll who DARED bother him while he was looking at this little fucking miracle. He reached back and snagged the troublemaker by the hair. He was drawn aback when he saw that it was his descendant. The toothy grin returned within seconds though, especially after the shitblood yelled.
"There a reason I fucking should?", his voice was low and gravely as he said this. He still hadn't put the rustblood back in his chair, but he humoured his descendent. He saw the drone coming for Gamzee from behind him, and pulled his descendent a bit closer by his hair. The drone changed its course, deciding that the Indigo would be killing it.
Gamzee's eyes watered as his hair was pulled, and his eyes switched between Tavros's frightened expression, and the mirthmaniacal grin of his Ancestor.
"Yeah, uh..." Gamzee panicked and swallowed before saying the first thing that came to his mind. "He's... my quadrant, sir. He's my motherfuckin' Matesprit."
His throat felt dry as soon as he'd said it. It was a lie...even if he'd often wished it wasn't, and it was a desperate chance, at best. He didn't even know if it'd do anything, but maybe, if his ancestor cared enough about Gamzee to want to keep him alive, he'd care just enough about him to keep his Flushmate alive too? He hoped Tavros would understand. It was just to keep him alive.
Tavros was open mouthed. Stunned. Gamzee had just lied to an adult, to a gigantic, monstrous, highblood adult. He'd told them they were matesprits, but they weren't! Gamzee knew Tavros didn't...feel that way, about him. So what was he saying? Why was he-
Then Tavros caught it. The first glimpse of the Highblooded troll's symbol. It was Gamzee's. This was Gamzee's ancestor. And Gamzee, he was...trying to save Tavros's life. Tavros felt a rush of pity but it was quelled almost immediately by fear and the pain flooding his scalp.
The Grand Highblood's eyes took on a different sheen at that. Was this little thing REALLY trying to lie to him? Fuck, yes it was. His little shit had a hell of a set of vestigial fat-sacks on him to try and pull that. But it gave him some interesting ideas. He had some time off after this, and he was going to motherfucking USE it.
"Your, matesprit eh?" He chuckled, but let the disabled troll drop. He noticed the legs landed all askew on the chair. He vaguely wondered if it would even be able to feel anything, then decided it didn't fucking matter.
He turned to his descendent, pulling him closer to his new toy. "Get your fucking asses on my ship. You saw where it landed?" He pointed it out anyway. It was fairly close. There were less drones, but none between the two and the ship.
The other adults had taken an interest in what he was doing, but didn't stop him, none were fucking higher than him.
Gamzee stood stunned in his tracks. Had he just said, get your ASSES on the ship? Like, both of them? Eagerly he nodded and circled around behind Tavros's chair. He began pushing it toward the Highblood's ship without any further backtalk, eager to get out of the range of the drones and their culling prongs. Damn, he couldn't believe that shit had worked. Must be the miracles.
"You alright, Tavbro?" He muttered behind Tavros. Who had his head bowed and his hands folded in his lap. He seemed catatonic and hadn't even budged when Gamzee started pushing him. He was quiet for a few long moments before he answered.
"...You shouldn't have done that. You could've gotten in trouble."
"Worth any trouble I get into if it keeps your ass alive and kickin', bro." Gamzee replied. "Minus the kicking I guess, actually, sorry."
Tavros was silent all the rest of the way to the ship. Inside there wasn't much room. Enough for maybe 20 or so trolls if they stood. There were a couple of Indigos already on board, they stared curiously at Tavros, wondering what he was doing on a highblood conscription pod, no doubt. Tavros avoided their eyes.
What would the highblood do to them? He couldn't possibly have a use for a crippled lowblood like himself. Not even if he DID buy that matesprit story, which Tavros doubted. Gamzee tried talking to him, but Tavros barely heard him and eventually they were both just standing there, in silence. Waiting.
There was only a bit more he had to do. The final overlook for each section. Killing those the drones missed, or those that weren't fast enough to move. There were more of the lowbloods getting on than he usually let through, his mind was elsewhere.
He was thinking about what he was going to do to the little fly with broken legs, and what he was going to get his descendent to do... This was going to be motherfucking delicious. He would have to do paperwork for his descendent himself, but that was fucking easy. The hard part would be getting him for adult life.
He debated if it would just be easier to kill the little shit, but the thought didn't stay long. He liked the idea of having another little him running around, it had been a while since he had an apprentice. He would have to train him, get him off Sopor and functioning. It was not uncommon for ancestors to take their decedents under their tutelage when they became aware of them. His little shit's education would just happen a lot sooner than most.
It was almost no time at all before he was back on his ship, he stopped short at how empty it was, and how they were not motherfucking there. He growled, there was another ship close by, they had probably gotten on that one. Motherfuck. He'd even fucking pointed it out.
He ducked back out. There was another shuttle, where they were putting the Indigo bloods on. Thank the mirthful messiahs it hadn't left yet. They would have just culled the fly's descendent when they docked. He stormed his way onto the ship and looked around, easily spotting the two.
"What part of GET ON MY MOTHERFUCKING SHUTTLE did you little shits not understand?"
He reached forwards and grabbed his descendent by the horn and gave him a good shake, shoving him towards the door. He grabbed the other with one hand curling around the rustblood's throat and shoulders and lifted him up. Not enough to choke, but it probably wasn't comfortable.
"Get fucking moving." He left the chair where it was.
Gamzee stumbled out of the ship awkwardly, his eyes on Tavros, who squirmed and writhed, his breaths short, painful gasps. But he kept quiet, not wanting to ask any of the questions on his thinkpan in case it would come back to hurt them. But why weren't they going with everyone else? He didn't want any special treatment or nothing.
As his chair disappeared behind the sliding doors, Tavros held back bitter tears. Now he wouldn't even be able to move. He could do nothing except struggle to breathe as he was carried outside.
The Highblood followed his descendent off of the ship, ignoring the other Indigos that were chattering behind him. When the young troll seemed unsure about what way to go, he pushed him towards his ship, watching him struggle and stumble. There would be a lot of work to do with this one.
He glanced at the brownblood in his claws, who shifted incessantly. He licked his lips. Motherfuck did he ever look good gasping like that. He smiled when he stepped back into his blood spattered ship, some of the tension leaving him. The cockpit was small, with only one extra chair. He grinned and dropped the lowblood in it. "Matesprits should share a fucking chair. Don't you think?" He ignored them as he took his own, turning on his ship, and getting it ready to take off.
He set his course for his flag ship instead of the normal docking ship that drifted in the sky above. It would take them some time, even at the fastest speed. He cast a look at the two wrigglers. He would have to amuse himself with those two, maybe even work on his fucking descendent a little bit. But later.
"Buckle up." He gave no other warning before lifting off.
Gamzee looked around for any other place to sit but was quickly knocked off his feet. If he didn't strap himself in he'd probably get injured or something.
Tavros had his hands clamped to the seat on either side of him, balanced precariously, he glanced sideways up at Gamzee.
"Gamzee, please. I won't feel it, anyway. Just...just come sit down." He said stiltedly, fighting down a blush.
Gamzee's face was bright purple as he sat on Tavros's lap and pulled down the safety straps over both of them. Trying to ignore how warm Tavros was under him, and even if Tavros couldn't feel it, Gamzee sure could. The G forces that pushed him further down as they rose didn't help either.
He stared out the viewing-window and let out a slightly nervous giggle when he felt Tavros bury his face in his shoulder-blade.
"You alright, Tav?" He whispered, trying not to be overheard by the Highblood, his voice mostly covered by the sound of the jets.
"I, think I might be sick." Tavros muttered.
"Don't worry." Gamzee replied. "I ain't gonna let nothing bad happen to you bro, I promise."
It broke Tavros's heart a little to hear just how much Gamzee believed what he was saying.
"...Thanks, Gamzee."
The Grand Highblood guided the ship out of orbit, passing the conscription ships. He sent out a ping to it as he passed, sending off a message, covering his sorry ass.
His thoughts darted back to the two at his side. He didn't look at them or even acknowledge them. He had thought about talking to them, as he pushed the ship faster, the auto-pilot controlling the craft, but decided against it. Let those little fuckers stew a bit. They could get their motherfucking talk on when they make it back to his ship.
He chuckled a bit, dark and low and growly. If he had been younger, and not in control, the chucklvoodoos would have flooded the cabin.
The Summoner's ward looked scared enough already. Motherfucking tasty.
After what seemed to Tavros like a very long time, the flagship came into view. First as a distant pinprick in the dead-black of space, then closer, until it was apparent how immense the ship really was, at least as big as a large city. Immense and, even from the outside, obviously meant for Highblood passengers. There was a dark indigo iridescence to the metal hull, it's sharp curves and points expertly designed to appear both menacing and capricious.
"Woah..." Gamzee whispered. Still seated on Tavros's lap. He'd relaxed over the course of the trip and now his full weight rested comfortably on Tavros, not that he could feel it in his legs, but against his chest it was...kind of nice. As terrified as he was, and as sure as he was that an even worse fate than being culled in the Rainbow Fields awaited him aboard that ship, at least he was with Gamzee, and at least it looked like Gamzee would be fine. Tavros had to admit, he hadn't been sure Gamzee would survive the drones, what with his obvious Sopor addiction. But he had, and...so had he, apparently.
Gamzee suddenly turned to the Grand Highblood, tearing his eyes away from the miraculous ship excitedly.
"Hey, Sir? You the captain of that bitch?" He asked. Tavros's eyes widened and he buried his face in Gamzee's shirt again. The Highblood might be Gamzees ancestor, but he was unpredictable and frankly, Tavros was already more scared of him than he'd ever been of anyone.
He couldn't help the dark grin on his face, hungry and eager as he neared his ship. The Summoner was down in the bowels, waiting for him, and he was going to bring him a gift.
He tilted his head at his descendent as he asked his question. The brownblood had buried its little head into the others back, trying to hide its face. Couldn't hide those miraculous horns, though. He bet they probably had a similar taste to his little fly's.
His descendant was cute, he guessed, getting all excited over a ship. He liked that enthusiasm.
"Of course I'm in charge of that fucking ship. I'm the Grand Highblood you little shit." He was grinning widely, it could have been mistaken as something friendly.
He watched those horns move. "You are going to carry your little matesprit when we get to the ship. Follow me, and don't ask any motherfucking questions."
Tavros flinched and blushed but he felt Gamzee nod. For the rest of the trip he kept his head in Gamzee's shirt, up until they docked and it was time for them to get off the pod and onto the Highblood ship.
