Yeah. This will be my first real multichapter that has exceeded two chapters.

Amazing.

Anyway, the chapters are going to be waaay short. Normally under 1000 words. I write these in the notes section on my ipod, so I don't exactly have a word counter, but when I uploaded them, I was like because I wrote the first ten chapters and the introduction in one gigantic note, so it looked a shit ton longer than it does now.

So, I'll shut up about that.

Going from the title, this is a [probably incredibly choppy and terribly written] biography of Karkat. As you can guess, a lot of this is guessing and going by other interpretations of what it would be like to grow up on Alternia. :3

...enjoy, I guess.

The Longwinded Biography of a God

The Introduction ...in which Karkat dies.

Karkat loosed a rather violent cough, falling back onto his pillows. Today was just not his day. Or his week, for that matter. He had been violently ill for the past four days, and was incredibly tired of it. He had almost literally coughed up his lungs, he could barely breathe. He was too dizzy to get out of bed, and his father was horrible at remembering to feed him and bring him water, which speaking of water, he really needed at the moment because his throat was so dry it hurt and he was most definitely dehydrated.

Karkat sighed and closed his eyes, wishing to be anywhere but there, anything but sick, anyone but him. He wished he could be some kind of superhero. Superheroes never get sick. Or maybe he could be a character in one of his beloved romcoms? It's rare for anyone relatively important to die in those, and Karkat had long ago deemed himself incredibly important.

Whatever the case, Karkat was still Karkat, Karkat was still at home, and Karkat was still undeniably ill. There was no changing that.

The sickly boy thought of opening his Pesterchum client and whining to anyone who would listen, but that was much too beneath him. Sure, he complained a lot, but with the amount of pain he was in, there wasn't a person in the universe who would have the patience to listen to him. Even he would get fed up with listening to his pitiful drivels, and that was saying something.

Another sigh left pale lips, and Karkat rolled over and pulled the sheets up to his chin. He shivered and coughed a few times. This sucked.

Sleep tugged at the poor boy's consciousness, but he was determined not to give in. Naps were for babies. Karkat hadn't taken a nap since he was six, and even now, nine years later, he was determined to keep it that way. There was no way in hell that he would sleep, nod off, or nap. Nope. Not a chance.

But the call was just so inviting. So dark, so peaceful, so... eternal. It just felt natural. Karkat couldn't help but be drawn into it. The sleep pulled him into it's waiting arms, whispering sweet nothings in his ear as he drifted off for the last time.