Hello, everyone! So I finally uploaded something. It's a miracle! -shot- xD

At any rate, I'd been wanting to try a "2nd-person story," writing with "you" instead of "he" or "I," which is pretty common in Homestuck anyway.

It was a bit difficult, but I rather like how it turned out~ I hope you enjoy it as well. ^^

Homestuck belongs to Andrew Hussie.


No, no, no! That will never do!

You slam the can in your hand down and hold your head in your hands.

You've been working diligently for hours on rebuilding your glorious town.

The citizens are very grateful, but there's so much more work to do.

And this silly can just can't seem to find its place in the community!

You pick up the can gently and hold it to yourself, patting the top with your free hand.

Oh, perhaps on top of City Hall?

You carefully hover the can of TaB over the spire on the roof of City Hall, but it falls off as soon as you place it.

In a flurry of rage you fling the can into the air and place your hands over your eyes.

Oh the shame! The agony! You cannot help this poor can find its calling. Woe is you!

The can hits the ground with a metallic clang and rolls a bit.

You expect to hear it continue its perilous journey of rolling away, but it seems to stop abruptly.

You look up to see the white-carapaced one sitting cross-legged in front of you, just behind City Hall.

How long had she been there?

Your eyes wander to the runaway can in her hands. She looks at you quizzically.

What are you doing? she seems to ask, though she remains quiet, as usual.

You try to explain as best you can through hand motions and gestures, but she doesn't seem to catch on.

With a silent sigh you grab three cans that are laying at your side, set two of them next to each other, and hold the third firmly in your two very-capable-architect hands. You motion for her to watch carefully, which involves some flailing of your free hand in her face and then pointing to yourself. Quite a silly spectacle, really.

She nods, confirming she is watching you very carefully.

Your can-holding hand shoots forward and slaps the TaB can firmly on top of the two you'd placed earlier, creating a sort of pyramid out of soda cans. It is pretty, you think. Very symmetrical. You'd have to use this design a bit when rebuilding the Can Town museum.

She blinks and holds her can a few inches from her chest, staring at the one you had just slapped down.

You wave your arms to get her attention and point to the can in her hands.

She perks up in realization and moves in to place her can on top of yours.

You'll make an architect out of her yet!

She lets the can drop down on top of yours and you both stare as it wobbles back and forth, back and forth...

THUNK!

You watch her can fall from its precarious perch onto the ground and roll away.

She is crestfallen. You can see it in her eyes.

To show your support you applaud her. Really, it was very good for a first try!

She doesn't seem to believe you, though she accepts your round of clapping with an indifferent smile.

You reach forward and take her hand, and with your other hand you pick up the fallen TaB can.

With your hands on hers, you guide the can to the top of the pyramid and set it down gently with a soft clink sound.

You hold that position for several seconds, when the slight movement of her fingers tell you it's time to let the can stand on its own.

And stand on its own, it does! How proud she looks.

Of course you did most of the work. But you decide not to tell her that.

You stare at the cans for awhile, surprised they are still standing.

You are so focused on this that it takes several minutes to realize she's staring at you.

You look up and meet her gaze, but her narrowed, black eyes start to unnerve you after awhile.

You lower yours and start to reach for another can, but she grabs your wrist before you can reach it.

In a flurry of surprise you jerk your arm free of her grasp and scurry backwards a few inches before you notice the hurt expression on her face. No frown, as her mouth is covered (much like yours), but once again you can see it in her eyes...

You slowly scoot back to your original sitting place and hold out your arm to her.

She brightens a bit and gently closes her fingers around your wrist as to not startle you again, and stands upright, bringing you to a standing position as well. She is considerably taller than you; you have to extend your arm to full length to keep your arm linked with her fingers. The gesture is foreign to you, and you silently question why you like it so much as she leads you out the door of the small pod you make your home in.

The sun's reflection on the sand blinds you momentarily, and you use your free hand to provide shade for your sensitive eyes. The female leads you across the desert-like clearing to her own temporary home. She releases your wrist and motions for you to wait outside. You nod as she disappears behind the door, and you hold your wrist which her fingers had been so tightly clenched around. You missed the feeling already, and no matter what you couldn't explain to yourself why.

She reappears finally, and it's a good thing, too because the sun was starting to make your carapace itch.

She pushes a small wire box on patched-up wheels. You recognize it from when you first found each other.

Whatever is inside is a mystery; it's covered with some sort of colorful fabric, colors you haven't seen in ages. However the fabric is considerably torn and battered, and you wonder for a moment where she got such things.

Apparently sensing your confusion, she points to the bright, pastel-colored strips of fabric, then pulls on the dull, grey fabric that covers her shoulder. The fanciful clothing was once her own.

Oh, you think. You haven't the slightest idea where your old clothes are, with its purple, green, and red hues.

You probably threw them away. No need to reawaken bad memories.

She purposefully starts pushing the cart out into the sandy clearing. You follow a few feet behind her, fiddling with your fingers as you try to decipher what on earth could be in that cart.

She stops short and blinks a few times, then looks around. You follow her gaze, and see that you have reached a place that seems to be equidistant (that's a fancy word you learned from one of the manuals in your pod) from everyone's 'homes.'

You stare mesmerized at the horizon, wondering how long it goes on, when you hear the swishing of fabric behind you.

She has tossed her colorful covering to the side and pulled something out of the cart.

Upon closer examination, it is a long, black, metal object that glints in the sunlight as she turns it in her hands.

And then it hits you.

It's a sword.

Did she bring you out here to kill you?

No, that's silly! You're friends!

Aren't you?

Aren't you?

Suddenly you have your doubts.

You're about to turn and run when she drives the blade of the sword into the ground and returns to her cart.

You decide not to flee, but you still hang back to watch.

Next she pulls out two small metal spades, possibly debris from her pod, and sets those down next to the sword.

She takes out two old, rusty mailboxes as well, then pushes the cart off to the side.

You must've been staring, because she starts to wave her arms around to get your attention.

You jump out of your stupor and stumble forward a few feet, but after a single glance at that sword, you shrink back.

She rolls her eyes and advances on you, grabbing your arm once again before you can run away.

You don't put up much resistance as she half-drags, half-carries you back to her metal possessions and plops you down in the sand beside them. You stare at her dumbly. Why has she brought you out here?

As if to answer your question, she takes the sword and begins striking deep into the ground with it.

You flinch with every stab, but the more she works, the more you realize the sand has started to stick to the sword.

Looking down into the hole her weapon has made, you see the sand beneath the top layer is quite wet and sticky in consistency. She takes a mailbox and begins filling it up with the new sand, using one of the spades to transfer the stuff from ground to mailbox, ground to mailbox, until it was finally full.

The mendicant snaps her fingers in your face a few times, making sure you're fully awake and watching.

You nod and watch as she narrows her eyes at the ground, then suddenly flips the mailbox over and slams it on the dry sand, all in one quick movement. You stare in wonder as she lifts the container up, leaving a perfect, mailbox-sized cylinder of sand in its place.

Without asking you grab the other mailbox and clutch it against your chest in excitement.

All this time, surrounded, by an effective and beautiful building material! What a discovery!

You simply must try it.

You leave the spade alone and instead start shoveling sand into your mailbox with your hands.

It's full in a matter of seconds with how quick you work, and you flip it over.

Wait. Where do you place it?

It takes you a few seconds, but you finally decide to build your tiny sand mound next to your friend's.

You slam the mailbox on the ground, just as she did, and look up at her expectantly...

Is she laughing?

Yes, yes you're sure of it! Why is she laughing at you?

This time it's her that leans forward and covers your hands with hers.

Together you lift up the mailbox to reveal...

Nothing.

You free your hands and snatch the mailbox from her and look inside.

Where did the sand go?

You look up at her with the most distressed expression on your face.

And she's smiling.

And pointing.

You follow her finger to a spot beside you, where a rather dilapidated pile of sand lays.

You stare at it for several seconds, when it finally registers.

It must've fallen out while you were choosing your building site.

And there she goes, laughing again.

You guess you should be annoyed, angry even.

But you're not.

In fact, you're laughing, too.