Ｄｅｌｉｒｉｕｍ

by dioscuricCaligina

It's a revolving joke. This must be a joke. Please be a joke. You want it to be a joke. It's not though, and it never was. There was nothing you could do, frozen in your chair in shock. Your name is Karkat Vantas, and what you expected to be a romantic evening had turned for the worst. You were face to face with a furious killer, trapped. Great. [Rated PG13 for language and gore]

1. Act One Prolouge

Back again! I was bored, so I decided to write my ol' fanfic from last year. There's some plot changes, and weird perspective stuff. Have an interesting time reading it, fellow. [Also, I changed the title to Delirium for now.]

DELIRIUM

[prologue]

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you know better than nothing is off to a decent ending, ever. Even a single day of remaining acervuline in your hive is too much to ask for.

Your horrid excuses of friends also happen to be your only friends, and you're always unsure of what to do with them, so you are typically the base of the conundrum against your will. How ironic, huh? It was a practical listlessness, a duty of yours as a once designated leader.

Peace doesn't happen on Alternia, or in the universe. Peace is a complex and foreign concept used to make you feel like complete and utter shit for what you had and engrave a restless dream in the cloud not a single troll or human or anything would have the audacity to endure once they discover the path is not sugar and sweets.

So you guessed a decent leader wouldn't brainwash their inferior members with that of which was never going to occur, and instead you guided them the only ways you knew how, and some of those pricks honestly have no idea how difficult and arduous it is to direct a full band of six clusterfucks, whether or not they listened.

And the only particular coaching you could execute a majority of the time was through an alloquy of aggressive grey text.

Not to mention the end of your efforts came to result in their capricious minds as much as nonsense as it was to you. There was no honest savors in a little lone boy trying to pull this nightmare together in just his scarred hands. But that's how it works on Alternia; you either keep your shit pulled together as much as possible or you just die.

The strict assets of survival on this planet means you either obey to the exactly codone correlations of a madwoman or you die. And you weren't going to let down and lose everything.

Six sweeps. You had gone for a little over six sweeps that millions wouldn't be able to abide, and you weren't going to become one of them. As much as a pain it was, you were going to prove that batterwitch wrong one day and outlive the odds to your best potential.

And you stuck with that philosophy, always and always.

All until the day of your death.