Hi guys. A little explanation:
So the account 'CardCarryingVillains' belongs to five people, one of which is me. We all go by card suits (except for Jokers, but Jokers is a special case), and I am Spade. Believe it or not, we decided upon this system before any of us had discovered Homestuck, and the irony has not escaped me. The reason I'm explaining this at all is because I'm pretty sure at least one of the others is going to post Homestuck fanfic at some point, and as much as I like confusion, I also like getting credit where credit is due.
So. I am Spade. I'm a little off-kilter. I feel like my first ever post on this account should have been a blackrom fic and not a fluffy crackfic, but I'm too lazy to go write something else just to satisfy that stupid impulse. I have an essay to finish.
Enjoy your crack.
Misery Pities Company
Kanaya: Commiserate.
You are Kanaya Maryam, and this may be one of the more outlandish things you've done since starting Sgrub. You're in the Land of Wrath and Angels, for one, and this is a place that your allies fear to tread. It's not because of anything natural the game spat at you all, truthfully. Everyone's too scared of LOWAA because of what Eridan did to it, genocidal prick that he is. But somehow you're there. And somehow, not only are you there, you're there and you're inside of Eridan's hive. In a pile of scarves. With Eridan. Having a feelings jam.
"No, but seriously, Kan," he complains, crossing his arms. "I can't believve she'd just break up wwith me like that."
"I Cannot Fathom It Either," you agree, but honestly you feel terribly sorry for Feferi for having to put up with Eridan as a moirail for so long. You respect her now even more; already so because she is a princess, but doubly now because she didn't go insane trying to deal with… this.
"An' noww she's hangin' all ovver Sol an' it makes me so fuckin' angry… I guess I really messed up."
You look back on the beginning of this conversation and remember exactly how you got here. In all honesty, you had no desire to stay in LOWAA for more than the five minutes it would take you to locate and pass through the other gate, but Eridan had been waiting for you there, intercepted you, and decided that the pair of you needed to "hang out more, Kan, you'vve been avvoidin' me".
"Please Elaborate On What You Mean By Saying That You 'Messed Up,'" you request, glancing over at Eridan. He's been complaining about how nobody loves him and that Feferi finally broke up with him (you saw it coming) and complaining about Sollux in general (you're pretty sure he's going to come back to you a few days from now and ask you to auspistice this for him). But now he's getting into something that seems a little more… deep? You're not sure what word you would use for the look of self-loathing on Eridan's face.
"I told Fef I wwas flushed for her," he mutters. "After she broke up wwith me as my moirail. 'Cos maybe if she wwas done bein' that, she'd wwanna try another quadrant wwith me… but I guess not." At this, you feel a slight wave of sympathy, because this reminds you just a little bit of yourself. And you're tired of hearing Eridan whining, so you'll put a temporary stopper on it by voicing your own similar issue for a bit.
"This Reminds Me Distinctly, Although Not Exactly, Of My Relationship With Vriska," you begin.
"You mean your girl-crush," Eridan confirms with a nod, more to himself than to you.
"I Thought I Told You It Was Paler Than That," you complain. "Well, At Least From Her Point Of View It Is." You flush slightly green.
"Wwell," his eyebrows raise and he rolls onto his side to look you in the eye. You stare resolutely up at his ceiling. "This is a neww devvelopment. You're actually flushed for Vvris?"
"Unfortunately."
"An' she still sees you as just a moirail?"
"I Do Not Even Know If It Is Still Even That," you admit. "Lately She Has Been… Distant. And Besides, I Understand Your Feelings On The Matter Of Feeling Flushed For Someone Who Pities Someone Else." You're tempted to turn over and see the look in his eyes as he turns this over in his head.
After a minute, he says, "Wwait… Vvris is capable of pity? I alwways thought she couldn't feel anythin' but blackrom for anyone." A pause, and then, "Wwait, wwho's she wwaxin' crimson for?"
"Tavros," you groan. Eridan cracks up. "Remarkable Though It May Seem."
It takes him a minute to quit laughing, but when he does, all he says is, "I actually feel sorry for the lowwblood."
"Oh, Me Too."
"But you understand my feelings then," Eridan confirms. "Howw I feel about Fef likin' Sol instead of me. Only I think it's a little different for me 'cos you an' Tavv don't really havve much connection, and Sol and I sorta… despise each other on a levvel I'd like to think of as kismesis."
Oh, god.
"I'm Not Auspisticing For You, Eridan."
"I havven't evven asked, you bitch."
"Sorry. I Am Just Tired Of Filling Everyone's Ashen Quadrants For Them."
"At least you havve any quadrants filled," Eridan pouts. "Fef left me an' noww I'm seriously wworried I'm gonna go nuts."
Oh, dear. That hadn't occurred to you. The purpose of a moirail, after all, is that they keep one from completely losing their shit and succumbing to the natural rage that all trolls feel. Except for maybe Tavros (but you don't really want to think about him right now, thank you very much). In any case, highbloods are more susceptible to these fits of insane rage, and as Eridan is one of the highest, you can now see a distinct reason to worry.
You are beginning, through your vague understanding of Eridan's psyche and interests, to see why Feferi managed to put up with him so long. Someone has to keep him from going on a genocidal rampage. Despite the fact that Eridan has claimed before that in the event that he does in fact kill everyone that he will spare you, the whole idea of a cape-sporting hipster with weird hair and a bizarre accent turning himself into a one-troll apocalypse is not only ridiculous, it's ridiculously scary and ridiculously likely. You would prefer that it not occur.
You decide that, until someone else attempts to step up to the plate, coated with superglue and fragile though it is, you should probably act as Eridan's pseudo-moirail.
It's better than galactic-scale genocide, you tell yourself. Eridan's not that bad, is he?
"Eridan," you say, and you mentally re-label yourself insane, "If It Is Alright With You, Perhaps We Could Attempt To Be Moirails."
It disturbs you that the look on his face is even brighter than the Alternian sun.
"Really, Kan? You'd do that for me? Wwoww, wwhat did I evver do to deservve someone evven pretending to showw pity for me?"
You're a little put off by the fact that Eridan noticed so immediately that you're not being completely honest about your feelings. But nonetheless,"I Have No Idea," you admit, and you truly don't.
Despite the fact that you seriously can't believe you put aside your own feelings to make sure Eridan doesn't go even more insane than he already is, you must admit that he's very comfortable to curl up with. He leans over so your shoulders are touching and his fingers brush against yours. His hands are cold compared to yours.
"Sorry," he says, almost inaudibly. "I'm sort of an attention wwhore, aren't I?"
"At Least You Realize It," you say, practicing your sarcastic tone of voice for when you finally encounter Rose face to face.
And it takes a few minutes, but eventually you start talking to each other. And not just about Vriska and Tavros and Feferi and Sollux, because in all honesty neither of you particularly want to dwell on the things that make you sad. You talk about the game, and you talk about how it's sort of disturbing that there are only twelve trolls left in the whole of existence. You talk about how curious everyone is about Karkat's blood color (Eridan offers to cut him open in his sleep so we can all see once and for all what color he bleeds. You tell him that Karkat is his leader just as much as he is yours and should not be disrespected in that way. Besides, Karkat would kill him for it). You talk about how frustrated you are and how you honestly really don't like auspisticing that much. Eridan finds it funny how up in arms you get about it.
You comment on his fashion sense and he actually agrees to let you come up with some designs for outfits to make him ("You can be my royal wwardrober," he says, almost jokingly). He tells you all about history and famous leaders and conquerors over the ages. It surprises you how much he knows. You talk about everything and nothing and some of it is amusing and some of it is touching and poignant and you had no idea that as soon as you got Eridan off the topic of quadrants and killing, he would make for such interesting conversations.
Eventually, you forget what you were discussing because you've been laughing for so long.
"We Should Probably Continue With Our Progress In The Game At Some Point," you mention once you've caught your breath.
"Wwe probably should…" he agrees sadly. "But this wwill happen again?" he asks hopefully, trying not to pout as you pretend to think about your answer.
"We'll See," you shrug.
By which you're not completely sure if you mean We'll See Each Other Again Soon.
Reviews are fed into the quantum transducer and used to generate plots.
-Spades