Hello! In light of the recent kick-starter, I had an idea about what it would be like for the fandom to play the game. A rather sad idea.
Anyway, this is testing out a different style of writing for me, as well as my first homestuck-related fanfiction. Feedback would be great!
And of course I don't own homestuck.
You trudge through a long hallway, not sure where you're going. People are on all sides of you, blocking the view of your surroundings. You can tell it's metal, hard and cold, uncomfortable on your already aching feet. It reeks of sweat and blood and people, the air heavy and moist. You take it all in, half dazed, trying not to think of everything that happened.
You remember how excited everyone had been. Excited. The word didn't even begin to cover it. It had been amazing. A miracle. Nothing could describe the shock and elation everyone felt when they found out.
Sburb was real.
It sounded silly. It still does. You had loved homestuck more than anything, the characters, the story, the fandom. And you weren't alone. There were millions of fans out there. Or there had been. You wonder how many are dead. A lot, you suppose.
It was so ironic too, how the fandom had predicted it all. It wasn't hard to piece together. A comic about a game. A game release about the comic. Of course there had been such musings.
"It's real," everyone joked. "Guys we're going to play Sburb." But they had been just that. Jokes. No one actually thought it would happen. Impossible.
You remember the jolt of excitement rushing through you as your computer screen flashed that iconic green house. You messaged you friends with enthusiasm, considered have a sleepover to play the game through the night. It fell through, but that didn't daunt your eagerness to play.
Then… then it got weird. The news gave warning of possible meteors to hit your town. Your lights flickered out, leaving the soft glow of you computer screen to lead the way in the dark. It's a coincidence, you had thought. A coincidence, but still so strange.
From there it was a blur. You fell headfirst into chaos. Meteors, fire, scrambling to keep your laptop, your lifeline, within reach. Strife, sprites, appearification.
You kept in contact with your friends as best as you could. It had happened to them too, and little by little realization crept up on you.
This was it. You were playing Sburb. There were no words for it.
You forget how long you have been following the crowd. Hours, maybe? Does time even exist any more? Does it matter? You don't know.
But either way, the dank metal hallway ends eventually, opening into a large room. A feeling of emptiness hits you as you get a glimpse of computers lining the walls. A laboratory. A meteor. You remember now. You're on a meteor, flying through space towards some unknown destination.
A girl in a violet god-tier outfit shouts directions and shoves a bundle into your arms. You stare blankly for a second, then glance to the side, seeing other kids rolling their bundles out. A sleeping bag.
How could they ever expect you to sleep? Only horrors await you when you close your eyes. But you don't have energy to protest and find an empty spot, kneeling on the icy metal to spread out the blankets.
"Hey!" Your friend called you and you grinned. Lindsay. Your Internet friend from across the world. Your server player. And even better, when you finally met her in person, it was in the Land of Balls and Grass. LOBAG. Sburb.
The world was serene, orb like shapes floating in mid-air and piled up in large heaps. Vegetation left a soft layer of green on everything.
Eventually you found out just how big this all was. A million people, they guessed. A million people playing Sburb, all at once. A million homestucks living their dream.
Or their nightmare. Reports of deaths popped up here and there, all vague, but still shocking. Information traveled slowly. Memos were used by those who took charge, but they tended to misinform, lag.
It wasn't real yet though. It still felt like just a game. The deaths were so distant, just a few people in a million, right? Couldn't that be an okay price for the chance to be part of this? That was what you told yourself anyway.
You fought strange demon monsters with Lindsay, little fanged things that would look much less viscous in cartoon form. Thankfully they weren't as hard to kill as they seemed.
Time was strange, and it felt like it didn't exist in a way. But little by little a sense of doom dawned on you. What were you doing? What were you trying to accomplish? You didn't even know who or what you were fighting, so what point was there in doing so? You tried talking about that, explaining that. Others had laughed.
Oh, yes, you guess they had just forgotten how many had died in the comic. Or maybe they thought that didn't matter. What meaning could a silly comic have?
They still didn't listen.
You remember how your best friend's body had looked bleeding on the ground. Red soaked the grass, staining it, poisoning it. And suddenly it was all so real. The way her eyes began to grow lifeless, the sticky scarlet creeping over the fabric of her shirt. The slight glow of a god-tier bed in the distance.
It was a blur after that, but one thing was certain: you didn't make it. Her dream-self dead, her lifeless body lying completely still, miles short of the sapphire stone slab that could have saved her.
You think you remember crying.
You turn under the thin blankets, the floor too cold and hard for them to be any use. Tears leak from your eyes, making the flimsy pillow damp, increasing your discomfort. You sit up and look around.
Hundreds of bodies, all laying down on the ground in this huge room. Some people are in small groups, huddling for comfort and exchanging stories. Some bodies toss and turn on the floor, unable to sleep. In the corner you see humanoid creatures with blue skin. You guess your session had aliens after all. It will be something to look into later. If there is a later.
Your eyes search frantically for someone you know, to no avail. It's dark, and here are hundreds and hundreds of bodies piled on the floor. Maybe a thousand. A thousand people all suffering and lost, and possibly alone. So much pain.
A thousand people suffering, but almost a million dead. You know they're dead. You can feel it. Maybe it's because you're the seer of doom. Not that it matters. You didn't reach god tier.
A million people, dead.
The guardians, your mom, dead.
And you had thought this would be fun.
Review?