A/N: Like virtually everything I write, this wandered off in directions I didn't anticipate. Also, while a drabble the other day beat it to actually being posted, this is technically my first homestuck fic, so feedback is appreciated.
The formatting's better over on my AO3 account - Lyraeon - if you're fond of having your dialoglogs actually look like dialoglogs.
Calling the meteor half-uninhabited was far from an exaggeration. Twelve trolls had been reduced to four trolls, two humans, and one Mayor before their three year journey had even begun. The effective number of absent rooms had only grown with Gamzee's chronic absence and a solid year of Kanaya and Rose only leaving each others' side for the sake of contact with their own species.
Space, therefore, was hardly a commodity. Just the same, any use of the rooms of their fallen comrades had to go to vote first. A majority vote was virtually impossible to achieve – Gamzee probably wouldn't have counted even if he had ever dared to show his face at the brief meetings – so in the interest of actually getting anything done, it merely took any two people agreeing on something to get a motion passed. (A footnote about it not counting if the two people in question were matespits had come and gone since Rose had already grown bored with the abuse of power.)
No one had had the heart to erase or paint over the drawings coating Nepeta's ex-block, though Karkat had threatened to after facing the awkward truth of the extent of the olive-blood's affections for him. That hadn't stopped the room from being stacked, floor to ceiling and wall to wall, with the best hard drives and cooling apparati that grist could buy.
As long as they were out in the outer ring, it seemed the meteor's computers could access the last dregs of either of their universes' internets. On a couple occasions, they'd even managed to stumble into those of other worlds with unfamiliar tongues, but the results were hard to replicate and of no interest to anyone but Rose, who had far better things to do with her time than play with Squiddlebook.
Dave and Karkat, on the other hand, had taken it upon themselves to use every available byte of bandwidth to download and back up their respective species' entire media library, in the interest of both cultural exchange and preservation. "Cultural exchange" in this case translating mostly to "the supreme boredom that results after a half sweep or so with no circadian rhythm and only the same five idiots and one sociopath to talk to over and over". Regardless, the notion of preserving every piece of art, literature, music, and cinema that they could point a connection at was one of the few things the entire group had agreed upon as a noble exercise. Restarting civilization with a half-century long media library seemed far more promising than restarting it with a couple hundred books and a faulty internet connection – not to mention the number of arguments that had been solved just by the ability to compare and contrast the human and troll versions of M*A*S*H's final season.
No one brought up that the project was founded on basis of facilitating exactly that sort of argument. Partially because that was the sort of thing you learned to ignore when dealing with Karkat's penchant for overreaction, but mostly because angering either of the project leaders was a sure fire way to get your favorite movie pushed back a few pages on the priority listing.
Between boredom and the Very Real Threat of their media library somehow getting destroyed even despite their efforts, Karkat and Dave had decided to work through as much of their collection as they could whenever the urge struck them. By now, that was often enough that Kanaya and Rose's latest "majority vote" had been mandatory daily exercise time just to ensure everyone would be in shape for their inevitable battle when they reached the other Skaia.
If either of the boys had bothered to calculate it – which they both had, just not out loud – they'd each wasted at least a fourteenth of their respective, increasingly bizarre lives just on sitting in the common room watching movies or TV together. During this time, Dave had learned two very important things: that Karkat had about as much understanding of (or at least, respect for) the idea that humans didn't do Quadrants as Dave did for the fact trolls did, and that he could exploit this fact for his own amusement by picking out the right movies.
Tonight's selection was one purposefully chosen to liven the place up a bit. Dave would never have picked out The Hangover and its sequel a favorite even ironically, but when viewed through the filter of one romcom addicted troll, it had just enough bromance and unnecessary genital cameos to be worthwhile. A third of the way into the second movie, he could feel his brain reconstituting from the sludge that five sweeps worth of a troll soap opera had turned it into over the prior week.
Laughter was most assuredly the best medicine, and trolling trolls was the best source of internalized, outwardly stoic laughter to grace any Strider's existence.
KARKAT: THIS IS DISGUSTING. THIS WOLFMAN IS A CLEAR CANDIDATE FOR CULLING. HE IS NOTHING BUT A DRAIN ON SOCIETY AND HIS SO CALLED FRIENDS.
DAVE: no man you gotta look harder
DAVE: clearly he just needs the right bro to make him function right
KARKAT: THAT'S WHAT I SPENT THE WHOLE FIRST MOVIE SAYING. BUT I THINK HE'S BEYOND THE HELP OF EVEN A GOOD MOIRAIL. BY NOW IT'S CLEAR NONE OF THESE ASSHOLES HAVE ANY INTENTION OF RESPONDING TO HIS PALE SOLICITATIONS, EITHER. AND NOW HIS MATESPRIT'S SIBLING IS DEAD AS A RESULT.
Dave glanced over his shoulder when he heard a soft chuckle from across the room. Rose had no interest in any of their movie nights, but as most of the library was in the same room, she'd often wind up eavesdropping while she read. It didn't take much guessing to understand what part of Karkat's ranting she'd taken as amusing; at some point in the last month or so, he'd finally accepted "the human concept of siblings" as a valid, albeit alien, social construct. There was still a slight strained inflection to his voice whenever he spoke the word – marriage and corpse party got similar treatment, while parents were still just called human lusus. But, much as matesprit and moirail had casually entered Rose's vocabulary, and irony was no longer a valid excuse for Dave saying thermal hull, Karkat was no longer resisting all influences of human culture.
KARKAT: IF MATESPRIT COMMITMENT CEREMONIES ARE SUCH AN IMPORTANT AND RESPECTED RITE OF PASSAGE FOR HUMANS, WHY IS DISRESPECT FOR THE ENTIRE CONSTRUCT AND FEAR OF EMOTIONAL LOYALTY A REPEATED THEME IN YOUR MOVIES?
DAVE: because men being emotionally shallow assholes is fucking hilarious
If anything, he'd become more adept at seeing the flaws in human culture than most humans. It might have been a cynicism thing, or a Hero of Blood thing, or just plain that it was easier to see for someone born outside the proverbial box to see the problems in it. There were times when he and Rose would just sit on opposite sides of the table, post-movie, and she would bait him into psychological dissections of movies, smiling to herself all the while as though she wasn't obviously using the opportunity to go Freud on him.
KARKAT: I'M SO GLAD THAT HAVING THE EMOTIONAL MATURITY OF A WRIGGLER IS SEEN AS A JOKE TO YA'LL. IT MAKES ME SO PROUD TO HAVE HAD A PART IN THE CREATION OF YOUR ENTIRE EXISTENCE. IT'S A TRULY FULFILLING SENSATION TO BE THE GOD OF A SPECIES THAT TRIVIALIZES RED AND PALE INFIDELITY.
DAVE: preach it dude
KARKAT: I THINK THERE ARE TEARS IN MY EYES FROM THE SHEER OVERWHELMING JOY I FEEL AT THE KNOWLEDGE THAT THIS FILTH IS THE SPRITUAL SUCCESSOR TO MY ENTIRE SPECIES AS A DIRECT RESULT OF MY OWN FUCKING LAZINESS. SURELY THIS IS THE PINNACLE OF EXISTING.
DAVE: you forgot the booyah
KARKAT: OF COURSE. HOW COULD I BE SO STUPID. BOO-FUCKING-YAH.
The chuckle that followed was much closer this time. Only a lifetime of dealing with Bro and Lil Cal saved Dave from the embarrassing jump in his seat that Rose's sudden presence directly behind them caused Karkat. Her face was one solid smile, her fingers tapping on the fake leather as she regarded their alien friend with all the revelry of a middle schooler with juicy gossip. Her ears had perked at a few certain words strewn throughout the boys' conversation, and now she had seeds of beautiful chaos to plant.
As she leaned ever so slightly toward Karkat's side of the couch, Dave suddenly wondered if Rose had inherited Bro's apparent ability to smell fear.
ROSE: For one who seems to constantly degrade our species' culture and label it as 'inferior', you seem rather quick to adapt to our vernacular and customs. Perhaps the taunts are just covering a dissatisfaction with your own species, possibly ushered by your blood color's stigma?
KARKAT: WOW, I DIDN'T UNDERSTAND A FUCKING WORD OF THAT BUT I'M PRETTY SURE A GOOD ANSWER IS FUCK YOU.
ROSE: I know it would be rather generous of me to credit all of your skills in the art of sarcasm to my ectobrother's influences, but it seems to me you've acquired a few other things from him as well.
KARKAT: IS SOMEONE WHOSE ENTIRE MOVIE COLLECTION CAN BE WATCHED IN ONE AFTERNOON EVEN FUCKING ALLOWED TO JUDGE OTHERS ON WHAT FILMS THEY ENJOY?
ROSE: The term you're looking for is bookworm, and I wasn't referring to Dave's questionably ironic taste in entertainment, nor his eternally questionable definition of the word ironic. Though, if you're admitting to enjoying this specific drivel, I've got a few fresh notebooks.
KARKAT: HOW ABOUT NO. ALSO, HOW ABOUT YOU GET TO THE FUCKING POINT.
ROSE: I was referring to the changes in your verbal patterns and inflections. The ones clearly influenced by one Strider, and perhaps by proxy through Terezi, since the rest of us have kept our own regional affects to ourselves.
DAVE: proxy what now
KARKAT: WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT LALONDE? YOUR PSYCHOBABBLE HAS GOTTEN SO THICK I DON'T THINK EVEN KANAYA'S CHAINSAW COULD HANDLE ITS GIRTH ANYMORE.
DAVE: haha girth good one dude
ROSE: I'm not surprised you haven't noticed, given that Dave himself does a good job of both hiding and denying his own cultural heritage. However, much like those accursed fish puns we're sentenced to in most dream bubbles, certain vernacular quirks can be contagious.
She turned her head toward Dave, her smile twisting into a smirk. He tried to stand his ground, even once Karkat turned toward him as well, wearing an expression that begged for explanation of the situation and he willed himself to camouflage into the sofa.
DAVE: honestly i have no idea what yall are even on ab-
ROSE: And there it is, right there. Make Strider sweat and he reverts to his Texas roots with impeccable speed, and apparently takes half the living members of an alien species with him.
DAVE: wait
DAVE: thats what this was about?
DAVE: you giving me shit for my stupid accent
DAVE: because if so we should talk about kanayas faux-british th-
ROSE: That was only part of my point. The rest, if you'll allow me to infer upon my observations from my, admittedly narrow, experiences with xenoculture over the last half a sweep, is that trolls do not take such mimicry of verbal or typing quirks lightly, and will consciously avoid it when possible.
DAVE: ok so?
She turned her gaze, with the addition of a raised eyebrow, toward Karkat instead, and whatever effort Dave had made to disappear into the cushions, he echoed in triplicate.
KARKAT: YOU'D BETTER NOT FUCKING BE IMPLYING THE COMPLETE AND UTTER HOOFBEAST SHIT I THINK YOU'RE IMPLYING.
ROSE: I didn't imply a single thing, beyond that vernacular is rather contagious. It's amazing, though, how easily one's subconscious fills in blanks it expects to be there. I suppose I did have a hunch, however.
KARKAT: WELL YOUR HUNCH IS DEAD FUCKING WRONG SO YOU CAN STOP PUTTING WORDS IN MY WINDHOLE NOW.
ROSE: All right, point taken. I can tell I've worn out my welcome for the morning. I'll leave you two to your movie night...
She crossed the room, pausing momentarily on the transportalizer.
ROSE: ...And feelings jam.
The couch narrowly avoided toppling as Karkat vaulted over the back of it, his sickle missing Rose by several seconds but his enraged shouting reaching her across the meteor none the less.
As Dave sunk lower in the couch, he pondered what the least bromance-y movie in his arsenal might be, because he suddenly had a lot of subtext to erase.