1/3/2015:Rewrote Ch 1. Read it it's much better.

Karkat stumbled out of his sprint ragged and winded. He rose to the sight of his house and all it's shitty glory. It's owner, his father, would call it "lived in" but as far as Karkat was concerned the bastard was just too lazy to get a real house. Dirt was more present than grass in the lawn and the paint had peeled long ago. When he knocked the old wood from the door whimpered in protest. He hoped for the door to open without retort just this once.

"I don't want your shit!" A voice yelled.

"Let me fucking in dammit!" Karkat replied

"Who the fuck is me and why should I let your loud ass in my house."

"Your son."

"I haven't fucked no bitch long enough ago to have a son this uppity."

"DAMN IT JOHNNY LET ME IN."

At that the door opened. A man glared with his single eye at him. "Johnny" was his father, a man of many masks; to the crew, Spades Slick; to the world, Jack Noir; to the Family, Don; and to the ones he loved, Johnny Midnight. He built this city from the ground up. Right now however he seemed to be cooking (destroying) something. His clothes were on. Must have been a good day. Karkat went against voicing that thought as he let himself in. Experience taught him not to open his mouth as it went against family tradition. Instead he waited for Johnny to get ready. He knew better to walk into the nasty consequences derived from any other action.

He sat in the conversation room. A knife was cut off from the destination of his face by a habitual catch. Long ago Johnny decided only pussy ass pansies disguised as fathers had something as fucking boring as one on one sit downs with their sons, so they talked about their days through knife fights. Both decked in their favorites, Karkat his turtleneck and Johnny his suit. "Ain't gonna make the tension high. Then you ain't my fuckin son." Had been Johnny's words about the decision. As he stared at the way the light shone on the blade Karkat wondered why he worried what his thoughts were. Before he could entertain the thought he was cut off. By a knife.

The metal slid off as he tried his best to block. As much as he hated to admit Johnny was a lot better than him still. As much as he found enjoyment in the heat of battle Johnny lusted for it. The sight of Karkat's blood didn't make him flinch and even worse spilling his blood just made him laugh. Needless to say it took some time for Karkat to get the whole story out as he tried to still win.

"Ah, no wonder you smell like something I would fuck for 50 bucks." He yelled.

"Wai-Wha" Karkat said

Taken aback Karkat couldn't react to the right hook dead to the kidney that was sent his way. The knife clattered on the floor. Stopping mid swing Johnny smiled. The match was over. Karkat lost yet again.

"Sounds like you found yourself the Dame? Amirite?" Johnny said. A cocky grin spread on his face as Karkat let a pained groan be the answer. Him and his fucking dame talk. Karkat regrets every second since showing him the thing that got that stupid shit started.

It had been a simple way to get Johnny to stop talking shit about his love for romcoms. When he was watching a mafia one Johnny happened to slip by. For the first time he asked Karkat to start from the beginning and was absorbed in what he was watching. Taking the chance to legitimize his hobby he said he watched romcoms to find the Dame for him like the girl in the movie was for the don. Johnny saw the light after that and joined Karkat in watching the movies, to discuss the girl in every romcom to see if they matched their ideal girl. While it was one of the few bonding moments that didn't involve a chance at knife to the jugular it resulted in each other knowing their tastes to a decent point. Karkat now started to realize the nightmarish results that decision could make in his future.

"So how has your every busy lady life been going." Karkat said.

"I uh met someone recently." Johnny replied.

"Wait did I hear that wrong."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean."

"Someone implies that it was not a group but a single person. And met implies you didn't fuck them."

"Where is the problem wise ass."

"You-you don't do that."

"Well fuck you maybe I do, the fuck you know kid."

"This bitch must be real speci-"

"HEY! She is a fuckin lady and deserves nothin less. None of that talk when addressin her."

Karkat was about as dumbfounded his aching body would allow for him to convey. He swore if he looked out the window at this very moment he the sight of flying pigs had to greet them. Death approached and the end was fucking near. Though at a loss of words for a bit the body gestures got his emotions across.

"W-Whatever stop that shit it's fucking creepy. We got other shit to talk about besides Ms Paint."

"Ms! Sounds like I will be hearing a lot more about this dame in the future."

"IF YOU DON'T FUCK OFF I WILL STAB YOU, LITTLE SHIT!"

Raising his arms in surrender, Karkat let Johnny off at that. The man was slow to walk to his fedora and dusted it off. Donning the hat was the signal that this would be talk about the Family. The Midnight Crew had developed to become the Midnight Family once Slick had properly built this city from the ground up from the dainty town it used to be. After the incident that caused him to bring Karkat under his wing all opposition had been crushed under his thumb. By the look on his face, Karkat figured the keyword in that thought was had. Slick seemed to begroan the next topic as he procrastinated. Slightly turning away, and avoiding eye contact, and biting his lip, and playing with his nails, and taking off his hat, and scratching his head, and putting it on again, and still nothing left his lips. Karkat's patience had ran out.

"Just fucking say it."

He sighed. "Getting rumors flowing through the streets. Now I know what this means for you kid but I swear to you it's probably bullshit."

In an uncharacteristic show of warmth Slick put his arm around Karkat's shoulders awkwardly. "The Felt."

At that Slick clenched his teeth not to shout as nails drew blood as the kid clawed into him. In his eyes he saw the thing he worried about. Instead of their usual brown it was a bright red. How the kid did this was a fucking mystery and he had only eyes like that in the one man. The only person he found more persuasive than him. Last he checked that poor bastard was without a doubt dead. Yet the eyes were staring back at him. What he did know was that when the brat got passionate, which tended to be the mention of Felt, he got like this and was impossible to ignore. On your side he set your blood on fire with the same burning passion but against him it was like the cold steel of death striking you down. Slick saw potential. Right now though he needed to stop this shit.

"Don't worry kid it's probably nothing. Just thought you should be given a warning. I won't let my confidence blind me again." Slick really didn't like doing shit like this but the affectionate shoulder squeezing he added made the red cool back to its somber brown. This kid was making him soft. Oh well, maybe this is the sign I need to show that my time is running out for this kinda thing.

"Just have fun with the dame. I have to go talk to the crew. Don't die." He said. Clock was about to strike 12 soon. With his usual parting Slick left Karkat in the house alone. The pang in his chest told him that right now, the kid needed Johnny. Yet the weight of the old fedora on his head reminded him that right now he was Spades Slick, and he had a job to do.

My Spades Slick will probably always be OOC but my excuse is that raising a kid and not having opposition for so long as dulled his razor sharp hate for everything that breathes. In general both the Felt and obviously the Midnight Crew will be different for the sake of story.