A/N: This is/was an idea I had for a fan adventure for the MSPA forums, but the doubting side of me said I would fail seeing as I'm a newbie to the form. Now, this will be my first HomeStuck fan fiction; saying 'be gentle to my frail newbie-ness' is soo typical. Lets just say; if I get good reviews/interest, I'll swallow the bullet and kill my drawing hand.
Also... how do people add color to there type here?
The words appeared on your screen completely out of the blue. No line that said who was trolling you or even something that would remotely be considered a conversation starter. The immediate answer in your head is to ignore this person; this was not the time for some unknown person to be trolling you. But the type grabs your eyes with there mockery of a color.
SS: Everyone in your party has died?
You only manage to stare at the red type on your screen, as if waiting for it to tell of who it was. Except it doesn't and the red letters seem blinding in there redness.
SS: It would seem that my assumptions are correct.
It is only then that you realize that this SS person has distracted you from what really needs to be done, which is not joining the cold bodies on the floor. You start to type a message but decide against it, stabbing the backspace button as a new message appears which only makes you stab the button harder.
SS: I see you are not among the dead.
SS: Yet. That is.
SS: You do know how hard it is to find someone. Alive.
Glaring at the screen is not helping the situation but you do it anyway. The distant sounds of your soon cause of death are temporarily blocked. The want to smash this mystery person's face into the screen is too strong; the only pull back to reality is the red which is the cause of your frustration. Another honk echoes and the need to run screams at the back of your mind.
SS: I would advise against that.
Anger quickly fades to confusion, as finally your fingers tap the keys...
GA: AGAINST WHAT FUCKASS.
SS: Leaving that spot.
SS: It was hard enough to find your location on this timeline. Karkat.
It doesn't occur to you that you are not on your own account or station. The font color would probably have been a hint but you are far too gone to care. Too gone to care that this person knows who you are despite everything. The only thing that seems to register is that if you don't move now, SS won't be the only blindingly red in this room.
GA: GOOD LUCK WITH THAT. THE SHIT HAS HIT THE WHIRLING DEVICE.
SS: I'm well aware of the smell of the whirling device.
Against the red words you do leave that room. Not even sparring a glance back to see if this mystery person knew about your disobedience.
SS: Such a pity.
SS: Such a problematic one you are.
The room goes silent except the distant honking.
= Be someone else
In another location or perhaps time. A certain troll gets a message from the red typing stranger. They are taking cover in a room, back pressed to a wall so an attack from behind is impossible.
SS: According to your comrade. Everyone is dead. Or should I say, dieing at this possible moment or time.
SS: Oh. Such a pity. You are not much of a talker are you.
Grey fingers type a response. One that doesn't matter what it's content is of because it went off the topic this SS seems to be getting at. However, this typed conversation seems to be going much better then the one with Karkat. But it's time to get back to business here.
SS: All that doesn't matter now.
SS: I can offer you something. Such a thing that in the human phrasing "would be hard to refuse."
Red type going silent for a small moment that seems longer then it is, causing the other to type a response of interest in this offer. Being told it wasn't something only a human would be interested in, that a human wouldn't be able to handle such an offer. The web is well weaved in this mystery person's words.
SS: I need someone of your blood color to pull off this so called miracle.
SS: It is within my power to save you.
SS: To save you all from certain death. Save you all from the darkness.
It's a lie of course. Unknown to the troll, blood color has nothing to do with this. This troll is wise to not fall hook-line-and-sinker for this possible trap. Asking all the right questions and getting vague answers. If something seems fishy, most likely it is and this reeks of too good to be true fish stink.
SS: Ha! Oh you are a cleaver one. You want to know why you. Simply because, like I confessed, I need you.
SS: The others have agreed. All I need is the final piece.
SS: All I need is for you to say you will.
SS: Be the unknown savior of your comrades. They will all be saved. What is there to lose?
Grey fingers hesitate over the keys for a moment. Sounds echo in the distance to remind you of your current situation. After much hesitation you blindly type your answer, not realizing that the other sent you a message not even a second before you hit the send button.
SS: Of course there is a price. I can save you all for a price. You will be your comrades messiah and all I ask is a small something in return.
Your eyes go wide at the realization that you agreed to this. You knew this was fishy!
SS: Wonderful! It is a pleasure doing businesses with you.
Fingers type frantically to protest but you can't take it back. You agreed to this.
SS: Oh, no, no. You agreed! Can't take it back. The wheels are already in motion.
SS: Now. I will perform for you. A real mother fucking miracle.
Everything goes black and you're vaguely aware of a voice soft and yet cruel, as your vision fades away.
"I'll be coming to collect your part of the deal later. For now. Enjoy this while you can 'merciful messiah'."