Jane's POV Chapter 1
Author's Note: This is a doomed timeline I can do whatever I want! Or is it the alpha timeline and I'm secretly Andrew Hussie? The answer is probably the first one. Probably. I can still do whatever I want, either way. Fanfiction is like that.
Several days have passed since the Tricksters incident. Something about the timeline feels off, like an event was supposed to be taking place around now. Roxy said that our young parents should be arriving soon, it has been long enough, so maybe that is it? I really can't wait to see dad. Was he a cunning prankster? Master baker? Dad also could have been boring, clean, and average like all of his friends he spoke to on the PDA. I have to assume the worst with this, or else I will be let down again. Still, no matter what he is like, he will be dad. That is the part I simply cannot wait for.
We decided to prepare for their arrival in the most logical way possible: throw a party. Okay, I suppose that would be a little irresponsible of us, that's why we are ALSO trying to ascend the god tiers. Not everyone is talking to each other frequently, which is problematic, but I think we're making progress. I mean, we were even all in the same room just yesterday.
Roxy and I bake on occasion, other times I teach Dirk the wonders of food that isn't junk. I still haven't gotten him to give up the several bottles of orange soda per day. Today, however, I have a prank to pull. It may not be my finest work, but it should teach him a thing or two about his obsession. As the saying goes, "old habits die hard," or something like that.
Before my arrival, Jake and Roxy had been using the countertops in the kitchen for decoration making. A small mess of glitter and markers littered valuable surface-space. A flush came from the restroom and Roxy marched out, paused at the doorway., and walked over to greet me. She was wobbling, not because of alcohol, but from the ridiculously high pair of heels she was wearing.
Roxy tore the shoes off of her feet, "And alchemy fails again. Ugh, remind me to combine these with a pillow or something." The nail polish she wore magnified the gloss as she held a heel in the air. They were both the color scheme of the rest of her outfit. All voidey.
If they had been decorating in here… Oh no, "Please tell me you didn't drink any of the orange beverages in the fridge!" I looked around frantically for the pitchers I prepared this morning.
"No way, Dirk's orange soda is the GROSSEST. I think he's going to die from some sort of sugar coma."
"Did Jake?" I continued rummaging through the contents of the chest of whimsy.
"Noooooooooooooo, buuut we may have moved it to make room for the cake you left out."
"Where?!"
"Why?"
"I made them for a prank. You know, to teach Dirk a thing-or-two about drinking so much soda. It's really just a joke to pass time, but I don't want it all going to waste."
"Awww, that's actually kind of cute."
"Roxy!" She attempted to muffle her laughter. "Not funny. Where are the pitchers?" I sent her to retrieve them while I cleaned up their mess in the kitchen. Since I came to the house a bit earlier than Dirk would, I laid out some baking supplies and set out a few glasses. Roxy returned and she begged for a few minutes to stay to see his reaction, and at first I maintained a stubborn no, but she broke me and I had to let her. However, I forced her to practise her invisibility while she was at it.
We finished just in time, because a moment later Dirk strode (Strider puns are the not-so-literal best) into the room. He was wearing his typical glasses, and god tier outfit. As he approached the nearby table he brought his hood down.
"Sorry I'm late, what I miss?" He asked as he washed his hands- my policy in the Crocker household kitchen when you're going to cook or bake.
"Grammar, Dirk. What did you miss?" I sighed. "You haven't missed a thing."
"Alright, alright, I will attempt to speak the english language…" Dirk paused for ironically dramatic purposes. "properly."
I pointed a whisk at him from the counter. "Very good." Roxy gradually moved an object behind Dirk. Suppressing laughter I asked "What are we doing today?"
He noticed my line of sight and swiftly turned around, "What?" Roxy had already made the object disappear. What was it anyway? A perfectly generic object, perhaps? "Anyways, we're making ironic ice sculptures. How'd you forget?" His grammar came and went, which to be perfectly honest, I didn't mind one bit. It was just rather delightful seeing him laugh at my constant corrections.
"Why were we doing ice sculptures again? Excuse my insolence."
"Irony. And to make Bro proud."
I adjusted to a horrid posture and pushed my glasses up in obvious mockery of him. "Making him proud… ironically?" To complete my act I took a huge drink from a nearby glass of (secretly) carbonated kool-aid.
"One-hundred percent." He followed my example and picked up a glass I had laid out. Dirk gave a little cheers motion and winked behind his dark shades. There was absolutely no way to stop him from chugging the entire glass. Similarly, I couldn't stop him from spitting the entire cup's contents into the sink. Perfect.
"Oops, sorry, I forgot to mention the kool-aid." I laughed and laughed without end, not bothering to stick with my words act of innocence.
He acted offended and clutched at his throat, "You're a monster!" to no avail he dug a bottle of Crush out of the chest of whimsy, uncapping it and taking an almost-cautious sip. He spit that out as well. "What is this, poison?!"
"I don't know, it's your drink." Actually, it was orange juice.
He methodically smelled every single orange drink in the kitchen, searching for one of my previously placed cups to be orange soda. The only caffeine, however, in the room was in my glass, sinisterly modified through alchemy to be blueish. Right about then, Dirk approached the chair next to me with a look of defeat.
"Given up?" I asked tauntingly.
"What did you do?" He already looked exhausted without orange soda as fuel. It was making me feel guilty about the prank. However, guilt couldn't stop me from laughing.
"You know, someone has to be worried for your health. Consider this your first lesson." He could teach irony, I would preach personal health. I do remember when he tried to teach me his ways of irony.
Being younger and still obsessed with Jake, I had been glad for any distraction. Even if we did just end up sitting down, watching TV, and eventually washing dishes that had piled up. That was the problem with irony, I made sure to mention, if you want to do something big you end up doing something small, likewise for the other way around. Still, it wasn't like I minded far too much. He had responded to my complaints with some sort of smug remark. It was the first of several meetings filled with hanging out, washing dishes, and pretending we didn't realize it wasn't ironic anymore.
Now, he started to laugh. "Says the girl who makes and eats cakes 24/7." Isn't it ironic? I could hear the unspoken words on the end of the phrase without listening. Suddenly, he stopped. If only he had thought about his word's impact ahead of time. If only anyone did.
Caliborn's taunts echoed in my head, taunts from his recent decisions to keep harrassing us. I was the main victim. Somehow, with Dirk's word in my head, and Caliborn's reverberating through my skull, they didn't sound that different. Everything started to blend together. Including the floorboards as my feet charged across them.