Happy 12th Perigree's Eve and Merry Gristmas!
I want to wish a special holiday prayer to those affected by the tragedy at Sandy Hook Elementary.
On a less somber note, we have more Strider angst and Suffy semi-sad background... Oh, wait.
I do not own Homestuck. That privilege belongs to Santa!Huss. But maybe he'll be nice and grant my Gristmas wish for my ships' safe voyage?
They were all there; all of them, moaning, bleeding, dying. He had to do something. His body wouldn't move. Karkat rolled onto his back, coughing up his beautiful, hideous blood. Dave ran, scraping his knees as he skidded to the troll's side. There was so much bright red blood.
"You'll be fine." He didn't believe it for a second.
Ruby red eyes turned dull. Dave placed a hand over the wound, over his heart where Noir had stabbed him.
"Don't die." He looked at the others. Red overwhelmed jade, teal, mustard and rust. Karkat coughed again, grabbing Dave's hoodie, grabbing Dave's attention.
Useless, he was so useless; they were going to die because of him.
"Strider," the Cancer croaked, pulling him closer. His grip was weak, it was barely a tug.
And then he blinked, and ruby red turned to pristine white.
"Can ghosts eat or drink?" Dave asked before removing the last bottle of apple juice from the refrigerator. At this point, he figured that since he was out of bed and really didn't want to discuss why he was up the Signless would be sitting in what had become his 'usual' spot.
"We can, though we don't enjoy it as much as the living. Thank you for the offer, though." The ghost declined politely.
The young man was actually impressed that the troll had managed to tease out the fact that, yes, it was as close to a polite offer as he was going to give. "Karkat still refuses to talk to you?" he asked, genuinely curious. The Ancestor had actually stopped by several times that Dave hadn't got to meet with him. From what he understood, the older troll would spend time with two or three of the other teens before departing once more. He also understood that Dave was the only one who had gotten any alone time with the guy.
Dave took the sigh as a yes, and then asked the question that had really been eating at him since their last conversation. "If you died a martyr, and you didn't… fill your bucket with your girlfriend or whatever the troll equivalent is, how is Karkat related to you?" He settled onto a stool and waited for the explanation. He figured if he could keep the conversation away from anything to personal about himself, he might not have to act like a broken coward again and run away. He didn't want the troll to think he was vulnerable, which was the only reason he had decided to go to the kitchen despite knowing the troll would be there.
The Signless, unlike his high strung Descendant, didn't flip the fuck out at Strider's casual use of the word 'bucket.' "I owe that to Ms. Pyrope's Ancestor. She was a staunch supporter of mine, and was the only one still hidden from, and therefore in the good graces of, the Highblood. As a legislacerator, she had the opportunity to remove my corpse from the court, under the guise that she would be feeding it to her lusus."
Dave's lip twitched slightly, which was better than wrinkling his nose. "That's… weird. Did she actually do that?"
The moonlight reflected off of his horns as he nodded. "Yes, but not before collecting two vials of my blood. Foreseeing the need, she had also previously collected some blood from my love. This was very clever of her, and what she did next was even more tricky and dangerous, since she would have to get my blood to the Imperial Drones unnoticed.
"She had a purple-blood as an acquaintance, whom she convinced to let her spend a few days at her home at the same the Drones would be making the rounds to collect genetic material. Redglare made sure she was the one who answered the door when the Drones arrived. The purple blood had a Matesprit and Kismesis of her own, which the Drones already knew, but Redglare managed to convince them that she had just recently joined the trio to form a complete chain of concupiscent relationships. After being handed the four necessary buckets and told that she had an hour, the Drones left, and she set to work.
"She gave the proper buckets to her acquaintance and the romantic partners, keeping the other two hidden. She then took the two extra buckets to the guest room that had been provided for her and filled them each with a vial of my blood. Into the one reserved for Matesprits she added my lover's blood, and into the one meant for Kismesis she added her own. Though we had never had that sort of relationship, I am glad that she had the foresight to provide her own genetic material for the next generation.
"When the Drones returned she collected the other two buckets and returned all four of them to the collectors. They didn't see anything unusual about the coloration, considering it was three purple bloods and a teal blood, so the genetic material was approved and sent to be added to the slurry."
Dave mulled that over in his head for a moment. "So you just fill the bucket with blood? That's it?" he said. He knew Karkat was insecure about his blood color and even touchier when it came to reproduction, but seriously, nothing the Signless said merited one of the younger trolls rage attacks.
"Blood is the only acceptable substitute," The troll deadpanned.
Dave nodded solemnly to acknowledge that he hadn't missed the ironic humor that the troll had just hit him with, since Dave had picked a rather innocuous detail to latch on to. He had to admit he was impressed, and more confused than ever as to how trolls were actually supposed to reproduce.
But that was a question for another time (never). At least the ghost hadn't acted squeamish giving the explanation. Dave took a brief moment to imagine what kind of face Karkat would make it he casually heard his Ancestor talking about the troll equivalent of sex with Dave. It would have been somewhere between absolutely livid and ragetastic. He made a mental note to ask the Signless to recount the tale again when Karkat was present.
If the troll would ever even bother to go see his Ancestor. Dave frowned. Other than the time he had caught Karkat spying, he doubted the younger troll had seen the older one, or vice versa. If Karkat would just listen to what the ghost had to say, Dave wouldn't have to keep dealing with him and all of the suppressed emotion the dead troll was forcing him to face.
"Dave?" the troll asked, extending his hand. Dave flinched back, feeling the pain welling up again. The troll was reaching out to him in more ways than one, and he just couldn't handle it.
The Signless refused to retract his hand, though he didn't extend it further, thankfully. The Knight's attention caught on the shackle that was placed in a sliver of moonlight stretched across the island top. It was still shining, clean save for a few streaks of dried blood. Between the manacle and the skin was even more blood. It was practically trapped in place by a giant scab, and Dave wasn't certain, but it looked a little wet, like the wound had opened up when the hand had been extended. Offered, the younger Strider amended.
Dave bit his lip uncharacteristically (but then everything he did around the Signless was uncharacteristic, wasn't it?) before asking "If ghosts can eat and drink, do you guys bathe too?"
The hand remained where it was, but it trembled slightly and the troll chuckled softly. "Only when we come across a dream bubble with running water."
