Things that aren't supposed to happen, but happened anyway.

"About the hemospectrum," Feferi paused for effect. Good, just like she was taught. Eridan stood by her side while Karkat looked on from offstage.

All she has to do is follow the script that she and Karkat painstakingly wrote together. He hates politics and would rather be doing his dream job of thresecutioning with his matesprit, but this is the only thing his lowblood status can get him. Nowadays, lowbloods can be appointed higher statuses, but they still can't ascend naturally. He is a campaign manager, whatever that is. It's a process. It's also a ridiculous premise, since Feferi invented the job, but it earns his keep and prevents his immediate culling. He owes a lot to the naïve Troll, but who's complaining?

"Things have to change," she continues. Oh, shit. The crowd begins to murmur. "This hierarchy is corrupt!" No. Stop.

Eridan reaches forward, gently pulling on her arm. "Fef, not yet!" he pleads. As a "vice", or second-in-command, whatever they call it, he has no guts when it concerned his moirail. What a shitty choice. Vriska the pirate would have been a better choice. Or whatever she calls herself nowadays; the Explorer or something. It's too soon to call herself a legend; she's barely out of her hometown, which just so happens to be the town next to Karkat's.

She gently shoves him away as the murmuring escalates into arguing and shouts.

That fucking idiot! Karkat drags his hand down his face in the facepalm of century. As her advisor, he constantly advises her not to propose such big changes until after she takes the throne. At this rate—

"It's unfair to all, even myself! I know it sounds crazy now, but if I become a martyr that day, I will be fighting for all of you, glub damn it!" She finishes, pounding on the podium. But instead of an angry mob of lowbloods overtaking the stage, there were cheers and chanting.

Dumbfounded, Karkat stares out into the crowd, where horns of all shapes and sizes bounce like waves in the ocean where her Imperious Condescension hails from. As violent as modern society is, he is actually surprised they can all assemble like this peacefully. Giving the situation one last look-over, he deems it safe to emerge and herd the politicians off-stage.

Karkat Vantas
Age: 8 ½ sweeps
Occupation: Manager/grubsitter
Blood Caste: [REDACTED]
Legacy: The youngest Troll ever to do this shit

Karkat Vantas returns to his shared hive just before dawn, as usual. There are two things he wants right now, the second being sleep. The first greets him at the door. Rather, she startles him into a panic attack.

"Karkat!" she shouts, making him jump into the stratosphere.

The first being her.

"I wasn't worried at all!" she says a little too loudly and flinging her arms around him. He calms down and returns the gesture, burying his face in her hair.

"I thought I was going to die out there, Terezi," he mutters, holding her tight. He inhales through his nose memorizing her scent. "Fucking highbloods and their sense of entitlement."

"I'm going to ignore that," she mutters back sarcastically. He doesn't even consider her a highblood on a normal basis. She is also a sweep-and-a-half older than he is. Why should that even matter?

He quickly mutters an apology, then continues. "I'm not looking forward to tomorrow's speech."

"The highbloods tomorrow, right?" she confirms, parting from him.

"I'm going to lose sweeps off of my already unknown lifespan for sure." He follows her to their block, where he sheds his simple suit marked with Feferi's insignia on the back, and his own on the front, identifying him under the protection of her caste. His job comes with some perks. Eridan's publicity clothing is marked the same way, except flashier. Symbolically, this is supposed to prevent backstabbing. They both change into their slime-clothes, which Terezi can actually afford, special outfits that can be worn in cocoons, which are made out of slime-resistant material.

"Did you cancel your hate date tomorrow?"

"Why wouldn't I Karkles?" She smirks and raises an eyebrow.

"Because maybe I need a moirail if I survive tomorrow's event?"

"Didn't you dump him?"

"I did."

She stares at him incredulously in his general direction, not quite on-target.

"Who else is there?"

She draws her mouth to the side.

"Fuck, I don't know! And stop staring at me like that, you're making me feel like you have pale feelings for me or something!" There was a time that he wanted her in every quadrant, but those days were long past.

She saunters forward seductively. "And if I did?" She takes his hands in hers, making him flush a deep red.

"Fuck you! You're just as flushed as I am!" he protests.

At that point, she cackles and leads his hands to his face, smacking either side lightly. He could have sworn she whispered for him to stop hitting himself.

The two awaken with a jolt, to a desperate banging on their hive door. He peels himself off her like he usually does and glances at the time. He could have slept for another hour. His eye twitches instinctively. Whoever this is had better have a reason for waking him up before the crack of sunset. Not even bothering to wipe off the slime, he puts on some two-day-old soiled pants that needed to be washed anyway. The insistent banging continues.

"Okay, okay! God! I'm coming!" he shouts. Terezi is already up and heads into the bathroom, muttering that she might as well just get the work day going. Karkat mutters slews of curses instead. Peering through the primitive visual portal, he grimaces, too tired for this shit. He flings the door open, shading his eyes. "What do you want?" Fresh grubs on a stick, it's bright.

"I'm worried about Fef," Eridan mumbles.

"What, no commentary on how a lowblood of my status was rude just now?" Karkat snides.

"I'm searious, Kar!" he begs. "She's goin' to get herself culled if her Imperious finds out! Plus you know I'm not like that anemonemore." It takes all of Karkat's self-control not to roll his eyes.

He sighs. "Knowing her, she probably already knows and doesn't care."

"Can this actually work though? A new gowernment?"

"Look, Eridan, come inside, you're already sunburned, we'll talk there."

Eridan complies and Karkat shuts the door.

"I've already come to terms with this. It's not going to be perfect, dumbass! It's a theory at best, and it's already been attempted with terrible results."

"I just can't help feelin' that this is a bad idea." Eridan looks off to the side.

"I know what you're going to say. Just say it."

Eridan narrows his eyes, now eye-to-eye with Karkat. "You shouldn't have giwen her that book."

"You mean my ancestor's journal? I didn't! I just showed it to her."

"Why?!"

"I didn't expect her to run with it! It was also stolen from me multiple times by certain females, and through an overcomplicated series of events, physically got into her hands! It's not my fault she knows how to read!"

"You should hawe just burned the dam thing!" he yells, throwing his arms in the air.

"And destroy all that was left of my ancestor?!" He pauses. "Actually, that might not have been such a bad idea."

"Save your glubbin' ancestor-hatin' story for someone who cares. I'm supposed to be her moirail and I'm doing an awful job of it!" Karkat notes the changing timbre in Eridan's voice at the latter part of that sentence.

"Speaking of moirails, why did you come here? I'm not some cheap pale whore."

"I thought you were my friend."

"Friends don't tattle on moirails. Just talk to her, she'll understand." There was no conviction in his voice, and Eridan picked up on that.

Eridan sighs and dramatically collapses on the only sofa in the hive. "I'll just sleep here until the sun goes down." He drapes his arm over his eyes, his sunburn already almost healed. Karkat sighs and retrieves a towel damp with slime.

"Here, it looks like you haven't slept all day." Karkat drops it on Eridan's arm.

He hears Terezi stepping out of the shower, warns her that Eridan is around, and then showers himself.

"Feferi, do me a favor?" Karkat asks. He and Feferi sat alone in the soundproof room behind the stage. The outdoor bandshell amphitheatre they rented was filled to the brim with highbloods, and there were even more crowding the ground level. It was nowhere near as primitive as the rickety stage they were on yesterday. This one made the one yesterday look like a wooden crate.

"Yes Karkat?" she answers with fake glee. She is nervous, but hiding it well.

"Please don't die."

"I won't."

"No surprises."

"Glub!"

"No surprises."

"But I planned one just for you!"

"No. Fucking. Surprises."

"Everything that we rehearsed, right?"

"Yes. Thank you."

She looked about the room. "Where's Eridan?"

Shit. Karkat hadn't seen him since he left the hive. He kicked himself for not dragging Eridan's sorry seadweller ass with him to the rally. "I don't know."

"He'll be here," she tried to assure herself. She was obviously distraught. She needed her moirail and he wasn't around.

"Yeah, sure," Karkat said under his breath. He wasn't even sure himself.

As if on cue, the moirail in question busts in with a small box in tow. "Sorry I'm late, Fef! I had to get this thing!"

"You're late!" she scolds, standing up quickly. She couldn't hide her nervousness anymore, and her lips started to quiver.

"I'm so sorry," he says softly, stroking her cheek with his free hand. "I saw this and the pet store man refused to let it go without me payin' for it." He holds up the box between them and opens it. After he does so, she gasps and reaches inside, pulling out a perfect glass orb filled with water… and a tiny cuttlefish swimming inside. It couldn't have been older than a baby. She smiles widely and puts her face against it.

"It's perfect," she whispers. She pulls Eridan down and kisses his cheek at the base of his fin. Karkat wished he would have a consistent moiraillegence like this. Instead he has… well, Gamzee.

Karkat looked at his watch, suddenly aware that they were on a schedule. "Okay, break it up. Feferi, let's get this over with."

"Okay, Crankat!" she replies, all of her fear outwardly dissipated. Karkat's eye twitches again.

"About the hemospectrum…" So far, Feferi has kept her word and kept the speech a carbon copy of yesterday's. So far, the crowd has been calm. Karkat figures that it's due to the two highest of highbloods on the stage.

The highest that he can see among the crowd are some scattered purple-bloods. One of them wasn't paying attention to the speech at all, scratching at his face and squirming where he sat. He made eye contact with another purple-blood and the other one shook his head slightly. If Karkat hadn't been looking right at him, this exchange would have gone unnoticed. The first purple-blood directed his gaze to the stage once again. Karkat put his hand on his sickle and began to carefully sneak up on the purple-blood.

As he makes his way down, he bumps into a road block. He looks up at the Troll to see if he can pass by unscathed and not give away his position. It was another purple-blood, easily two heads taller than Karkat's average stature. They lock themselves into a glaring contest, sizing each other up, the sound of Feferi's amplified voice fading. The tall purple-blood scoffs and looks back at the stage. As soon as he does, evidence of some white makeup that had been missed while washing it away confirms Karkat's fears: subjuggulators. He grips the hilt of his weapon, slowly backtracking to the stage. He can practically feel his anxiety levels maxing out. They were so off the charts, he couldn't even remember his own name; fight or flight, and both are impossible. All that's left now is alarm.

"As a member of the highest caste, I find this completely unfair!" Feferi continues. The highbloods begin to chatter now. Karkat needs to get to her fast, give her the signal to end the speech quickly.

Karkat gives a wave, getting her attention, and then runs his thumb across his neck.

She blinks, an affirmative action. She faces the audience again. "Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not in the next sweep, but eventually, I have plans to incorporate Trolls of every level so that we may all be on equal ground!" The crowd gets louder.

Karkat looks over at the audience to locate the subjuggulators, but every single one has dissolved in the crowd, which was now on its feet. Shit!

Now that Karkat is thinking about it, the location is optimal for a public execution by angry mob. The bandshell was in a bowl, a valley, and the only way to get out was through the crowd. He gulps nervously, mouth suddenly devoid of all moisture.

They're all going to die.