"Build a hive?" exclaimed Jhonen.

"For the Wenndi," said Kurlie.

"For Wenndi?" Jhonen said, aghast. "Why, she is only a girl!"

"That," explained Kurlie, "is why we are her servants."

― Troll J.M. Barrie, Pupa Pan

Your name is TAVROS NITRAM, and you are dreaming.

You are aware of this fact, if only dimly. You have to keep thoughts like that in the back of your thinkpan, hidden away where you keep all the painful things. You deal with enough of that when you're awake. Now is a time for sleep and dreams and freedom.

You're back in Neverland and the sun has just set, leaving a warm, pink glow on the horizon. The stars twinkle and flash and laugh and you laugh with them. It's a beautiful night and you're going to enjoy it.

You perch on the very edge of the cliff at the southern end of your island, looking down at the ocean crashing against the rocks below. A deep breath of salty air and a grin later you leap off the edge and begin the fall down, down, down.

The breeze turns into a gale as the wind rushes past your head but you just laugh as the water looms. You fling your arms out and miss the waves by inches, twisting upwards into flight. The wind exhilarates you, and your grin grows wider than ever.

Time is hazy on your island but the glow in the sky never fades as you zoom from one place to another. Darting around trees, skimming the waves, dancing between stars, you relax. You breathe freely. There are no chains to bind you here, no one you must obey.

You are happy; and your happiness is what makes you soar.

Hovering above your island, the breezes holding you knocking some nearby seagulls off course, you look down as if at a map on your land of treasure and adventure. Then an echoing boom reverberates across the water and a shockwave sends you tumbling.

You catch yourself quickly and look around, searching your map for the source of the disturbance, quickly spotting the ship on the horizon. There is a crashing sound from below as a large tree had been knocked over, splinters from the shattered trunk causing their own destruction.

With a frown you whizz towards the ship, zipping low and fast along the ocean until your back is pressed flat against the blue-tinged boards of the ship. The ship flying a black flag.

You nimbly fly up and perch in the rigging, peering down at the gambligants below. The smell of gunpowder smoke drifts past and you know what caused the noise and the destruction of your forest as soon as you see the cannons. Clambering around on the ropes you move in an attempt to see who is at the helm.

A woman is at the wheel but the only features you can make out are the wide-brimmed hat with a violet plume and a coat the glimmers as blue as the ocean during a storm. Then she looks up.

Then you are spotted.

The ropes in your hands immediately become sticky and and taut, winding and binding your legs, your arms, your torso. You have still not broken eye contact with the blue, blue eyes of the captain, only now she seems so much closer.

The rigging, the webbing, stretches all over the ship now, glistening drops beading along it as the stickiness oozes and traps the unlucky trolls who came too close. The spider picks her way slowly up towards you, chitinous shell a glistening blue, the feather from the hat becoming a violet streak across it's thorax.

Instead of eating you like you thought it would the spider ignores you, going around to each member of it's ex-crew and violently killing them, sometimes stabbing with a pointed claw, sometimes eating their heads. Sometimes it just bit and let it's poison do the work. Those screams were the worst.

A rainbow of colors spattered across the deck, the gory show of deaths seemingly for your sake. Eventually the last scream gurgled out and the spider once again turned to face you. It clambered over the strings of its web and you close your eyes, not wanting to see your fate.

When nothing happened you dare to peek. In front of you stands Vriska, wearing the captain's clothes. No, she is the captain, you're not sure how you didn't recognise her before. She laughs at your cringing then pulls you up so you are standing even with her on rigging that is hempen once more.

"Silly little Pupa, do you really think I would kill you just like that?"

You are frozen in fear. Somehow, when she is like this it is far worse than the hideous spider that had slaughtered the crew.

"C'mon, Pupa, smile! Think happy thoughts! Isn't that what makes you flyyyyyyyy?"

With that last word she draws you close for a kiss- passionate, but as filled with venom as the bite of the spider. Then she lets you go.

You fall, but this time the wind will not catch you. The boards of the deck fall away beneath you as you hit them and you tumble into an endless void. Laughter echoes in your head as the poison seeps through your body, your veins.

Your mind.

You wake to find yourself being rolled through a bright series of ship corridors in your four wheel device.

Turning your head, you see it is Vriska pushing you along. As you look at her, she smiles and winks, then holds a finger to her mouth, motioning for you to stay quiet.

You guess you are escaping? That's probably a good thing, you figure. If you'd stayed in custody, Terezi and her subordinates would have eventually gotten to torturing and executing you. Even if you'd explained that you didn't want to live a life of crime, that Vriska had kinda made you join her in her adventures in illegality, they probably wouldn't have listened to you.

Besides, Terezi probably thinks the whole blinding her thing from your FLARP days was something you went along with willingly. You weren't given much choice in the matter, in actuality. None, really.

But then again, your life has never really been in your control. Certainly not since you met Vriska, sweeps ago.

As she rolls you along, you hear the sound of someone running. Vriska must hear it too, as she picks up her pace. The sound is getting closer, and you think it's coming from a hallway intersecting with yours, in the direction you are headed. You look back at her again as she pushes your four wheel device. She doesn't look particularly worried. The footsteps stop as a troll rounds the corner.

"Hey! Thtop right there or I will blatht you!"

Vriska finally stops, turning slowly to meet the other troll with a grin. You crane around in your seat to try and get a better look. There is a yellowblood, sweaty from sprinting down here as if he knew you were escaping. He doesn't look very strong, physically, but his fist is wrapped tight around a pair of bi-colored glasses and red and blue sparks seem to be crackling from his eyes.

"Sollux, isn't it?" Vriska asks, honey dripping from her words.

"Put your handth where I can thee them and kneel on the ground, Thpider," continues the other troll, Sollux, ignoring Vriska's words.

"Fine, fiiiiiiiine," drawls your matesprit, raising her hands to her head. You close your eyes and cringe slightly, knowing what's going to happen next.

Sollux's body jerks and stiffens, suddenly ramrod straight and still. The sparks from his red eye increase intensity but the blue ones die out. You look up to Vriska to see her brow furrowed, deep in concentration, and after a few more seconds of mental battle the mustardblood and the cereluan both seem to relax.

"Tricky little wiggler, this one. He might actually be skilled enough to beat me if he didn't get so cocky." Vriska smirks as Sollux walks down the corridor in front of you, limbs dragging along like a puppet's.

The three of you continue down the hallway until you reach the shuttle docking station. Sollux lazily keys in the code, making the doors whoosh open. Vriska wheels you inside and as you pass the officer he flops down asleep as if his strings had been cut.

You clamber into the shuttle, using your strong arms and the many surfaces available to heave yourself into the co-pilot's chair, Vriska folding up your four-wheeled device and planking herself down in the other seat.

The shuttle door slams behind you. Vriska is fiddling with the controls, and you feel the vehicle lift off the shuttle bay floor. The door to the shuttle bay opens into the abyss of space, and you're away.

Vriska keeps pressing buttons and flipping dials, piloting the shuttle. You can't make heads or tails of these controls, but Vriska sure seems to have it figured out. She never did get around to teaching you to fly a spacecraft. Vriska doesn't tell you much, usually. She's got "soooooooo many irons in the fire", as she puts it. She's kept you alive, and she does pity you. That's about all you expect from her, at this point.

On the other hand, you worry that you might fear her more than you pity her. Just maybe.

After Vriska punches in coordinates to Tarvinia with her left claw, then switches on warp accelerators, she swivels her chair around and kicks her legs up on your lap. She looks you dead in the eyes and you try unsuccessfully not to flinch. You don't think she's going to be happy with you. You haven't dared speak with her since you attempted to flee while she was being arrested.

Instead of bursting into an angry rant, however, she laughs with near-hysterical glee. Her feet kick up and down in your lap. Thankfully it doesn't hurt; you've been unable to feel your legs since she made you jump off a cliff, sweeps ago.

"Hahahahahahahaha! Wow! That was crazy!"

You manage to reply, but you stumble over your words, as usual. "Uhh, what are you, well, referring to?"

"What do you think, Tavros? That was the closest I've eeeeeeeever gotten to being captured. I really underestimated her!"

"Vriska, we did get, um, captured."

"Well, yeah, but we escaped again didn't we? That means the two cancel out."

"Oh, well, okay. I just didn't know it worked like that."

"Of course you wouldn't, but I do. It's why I'm the leader and you're just a follower."

You slump in the seat slightly, eyes fixed on the floor. It's not the first time she's said something like that, but it doesn't hurt any less each time. She notices your glum look and makes an attempt to cheer you up, pinching your cheeks and speaking in a wiggler-voice.

"Aww, come on Tavvy. Where's that brave smile of yours?

A flare of anger surges through your body, giving you a brief spurt of courage.

"D-don't call me Tavvy. I don't like it when you, uh, um…" You trail off under her cerulean stare, the last words of your outburst fading into nothing.

There's an awkward silence for several seconds as her calculating gaze roams over you before she tosses a lock of hair over her shoulder and turns back to the shuttle controls. You are silent again.

"Don't think I don't care about you, Tavros. After all, what would a captain be without her crew?"

You feel a stab of pity in your chest, reminding you of why you're her matesprit, before memories of your dream surface. The hideous, bulbous creature slowly and methodically culling the trolls on the ship, the screams of agony, the blood of the crew. The kiss.

Vriska suddenly leans over and gives you a peck on the cheek, then goes back to piloting without saying anything more. You are not sure if the spreading blush on your face is from surprise or shame.

The flight back to Tarvina takes a full night and day, which pass largely without incident. Vriska pilots the ship with her left hand as the shuttle drops down through the planet's atmosphere. You're fairly sure you remember her being right-clawed, so this strikes you as strange.

When she's zooming the ship though the city, between communal hive stems you realize her steering is noticeably sloppier than the last time she was piloting through a crowded city. As she parks the ship by her hideout, you finally get yourself to ask about this.

"Vriska, why aren't you, uh, using your right claw to, well, pilot the shuttle?"

She lets out a sigh, and then turns back to look at you. Her brow is arched, and she looks exasperated.

"Tavros, really? Were you not watching the duel between me and Terezi at all?"

"Well, uhh, I did close my eyes for a, well, a bit of it," you mutter out, ashamed.

Frowning, she lifts her right arm, and puts her palm out in front of your face. Her fingers move, but with a degree of awkwardness. She clenches them into a fist, but slowly, and without grace. You think she might be in pain, but if she is she's hiding it pretty well.

"While you were busy not paying attention during the duel, Terezi had knocked me down and stomped on my right wrist."

You flinch, and she continues, nonchalantly. "It'll get better eventually but for now it's pretty badly fucked up."

She exits the shuttle, and walks into her lair. You wheel yourself out, attempting to keep up with her pace, without success.

When you enter the lair, you see Vriska grab her husktop and put it in a bag. She continues to pack several other items of presumably some sentimental value as well; an old, weathered journal with her symbol on it, and an odd white sphere particularly stand out to you as strange. You don't know what the deal is with either of these, but then again, you haven't asked.

"Hey Tavvy, grab whatever you're gonna bring with us. Sooooooooner the better! Can't bring any of your pets with us, though."

"Wait," you begin, "Where are we, uhh, going?"

She turns to look at you, and gives you a wide and wicked grin, her eyes gleaming with a sort of dark enthusiasm.

"We're going to Alternia."

After plucking the sphere back out of her bag, Vriska sits back in her chair, staring intently at the white orb for a couple minutes. You don't have a clue why, and when you ask, she shushes you. When she's done, she announces she has a plan for how to get to Alternia.

You don't question why you are heading to the homeworld. It's an insane - adults have been banned from Alternia for as long as any troll alive can remember, since early in the reign of Her Imperious Condescension. There's probably a fair number of military ships guarding the system, as they are always picking up trolls when the turn eight sweeps and are assigned to a career. Vriska doesn't seem worried, as usual. You're not entirely sure she's capable of worrying.

First, Vriska says she needs to hijack a ride to get to Alternia. She says she's sure that Terezi has reported her escape and the theft of the shuttle so she figured it "better to catch a new ship to get there."

Naturally, her plan is to hijack a military vessel, belonging to the Threshecutioner corps. "to get into the Alternian system easier". Stealing a military vessel is generally a plan that could be regarded as 'totally mental', but the hijacking of a Threshecutioner ship with only one good claw is closer to being 'a foolproof way to die swiftly but not painlessly'.

She brings the Fluorite Octet, the odd white sphere, and a couple of daggers and a small pistol with her. When she leaves, she tells you she'll be back in about 4 hours and 13 minutes.

You are reasonably certain she is going to die there, and for some reason, you don't know how you feel about that.

You wait in the lair, communing with your animal friends. You say goodbye to them, from the miniature barkbeast to your trusty trained cholerbear, just in case Vriska does somehow come back and drag you off to Alternia. You don't want to say goodbye to your pets, especially not your poor old friend Rufio. But Vriska made it clear that they wouldn't be coming along to Alternia.

It occurs to you that you're going to be losing your pets, or you will be losing Vriska, and stranded here in the harsh cityscape.

Now you really don't know how to feel.

Actually, wait. You've figured it out. You feel sad.

Vriska returns in a bit over four hours. You didn't time it, but her approximation of her return time seems startlingly close, possibly spot on.

She steps out of the spaceship's hatch with blood of indigo, brown, and green staining her jacket, and spinning a war sickle in her left claw. She appears to be uninjured.

"Hey, Tavvy, my plan totally worked! Let's get outta here!"

You roll yourself onto the ship, and the two of you leave for Alternia.

Your dreams trouble you over the next five days, as you travel across the stars. You dream of walking the plank. You dream of nights you've spent with Vriska. You dream of falling. You dream of wings, and a lance, stained in cerulean. You don't tell Vriska about any of this.

When you wake, you quietly wait for the next part of whatever Vriska is planning to unfold. Vriska doesn't tell you, and you don't ask. She does her best to keep you happy, which is to say there is occasional snogging and the like. Vriska is passionate, and she cares about you, cares for you. Sometimes you wish she'd give you more space.

On the sixth night the stolen ship arrives in the Alternian system. An incoming hail from a huge subjugglator vessel asks what exactly this Threshecutioner ship is doing in the system. Vriska bluffs her way elegantly through the conversation, skillfully posing as the the late captain. She explains with surprising politeness that she and her troops are here on official business, to put down a group of young Culler supporters on the homeworld quickly and quietly.

The Subjugglator captain seems to accept this, and checks to make sure Vriska has the necessary authorization codes to enter the Alternian system. She rattles off a seemingly meaningless set of digits, but judging by the response of the much larger vessel's captain, it was in fact the correct code. The Subjugglator captain wishes Vriska good luck with her mission and cuts the communication.

Vriska accelerates the stolen vessel, bringing you farther into the system. Soon you see the homeworld, and she brings the vessel down into its night sky, with the two moons of Alternia on the horizon.

You feel a pang of nostalgia for when you were young and life seemed full of wonder and possibility. Gazing out the front viewport from the back of the ship, you see she's landing the stolen ship near the coastline, in a rural area.

Then it occurs to you. You know this coastline, these cliffs.

The ship lands, and you look over at the hive of your youth.

After the two of you have unloaded your supplies and Vriska's weaponry, you settle back into the familiar setting.

It's strange, being at your old hive. You haven't had a real one since Vriska decided you should go with her on her 'daaaaaaaaring adventures'. She's had plenty of hideouts and lairs over in the last sweep, but none of them felt like a proper hive to you.

You roll your four wheel device into your rumpusblock, walls still adorned with Pupa Pan posters, your old FLARP books are collecting dust in the corner. Memories of nights spent playing fiduspawn and days filled with dreams of adventure arise. You think you liked adventures more when you were not actually having them.

Vriska saunters into the block and takes a seat across from your four wheel device, kicking her legs up onto the table in an exaggerated motion.

"I've been thinking, and I think it's finally about time I let you know about aaaaaaaall the irons I've got in the fire."

"I know that you've, um, got a lot of, well, irons in the fire, Vriska."

"A lot doesn't cover it, Tavros. I have soooooooo many irons in the fire right now, you have no idea. But you are about to. Lucky you!"

"Wait, so you're, um, actually going to, well, tell me your plans?"

"Of course I will, Tavvy. Anyway, it's not like like you wouldn't find out soon anyway. Not with what's about to happen."

You gulp at the sinister sound of the last statement. In quieter moments you forget just how dangerous your matesprit really is. You shake those thoughts out of your thinkpan as you notice Vriska entering her story-telling mode, this was where you had to pay attention.

"Okay, so you know about the Culler, right? Of course you do, only stupid wigglers don't know about him at the moment. Well, through various sources," here she waved her claws mysteriously. "I've found out who he is!"

"Wh-who?" you stutter. She waves the question off dismissively.

"It doesn't really matter right now. What matters is where he is and how he's culling everyone. And I know for a fact he's not using psionics for that second bit, but I'll go more into that later. First, can you guess where he is?" She spreads her arms out wide and you glance nervously around the block before taking a guess at her question.

"Al-ter-nia?"

"Correct! Well done Tavvy! I knew you had some brains between those big-ass horns of yours after all. Well anyway, the Culler is still just a little wiggler stuck on this stupid rock of a homeworld and he thinks he can make things better for himself when he gets off it by culling left right and centre. It really is pathetic, don't you think?" You just nod and she continues.

"Now, I don't really know how, my sources are being idiotically vague on the topic, but he's got his claws on a special notebook that lets him cull anyone he likes, no matter how far away they are, as long as he's got some pretty basic information on them."

Your jaw must have dropped open in question because Vriska makes that waving gesture she uses when she wants you to keep quiet.

"I mean, there's a whoooooooole bunch of rules that come with it, but they're easy enough to deal with for someone like me."

"So, uh, what are we going to, um, do?"

"Duuuuuuuuh! We're going to steal some of those notebook pages! Silly Tavros, didn't I make it obvious enough for you?"

"Uh, well, yeah, I guess so. But, um, why not just, y'know, uh, steal the whole notebook?"

"Because the Culler can still be useful to us, dum-dumb. And he won't be able to do anything to me, since he doesn't know my name or what I look like or anything! Yeesh, I can't believe you can still be so stupid after spending so much time near me. Oh well, I guess genius just doesn't rub off on some trolls." She stands up and starts to saunter out of the block, storytime obviously over.

"It would rub off if you had any to start with," you mumble under your breath. In a swoosh of dark hair Vriska turns back to look at you, scrutinising the face of innocence you wear.

"What did you just say?"

"I-it would good if you got the pages quickly? That way we can, um, sort out the plans for what to do next, er, faster."

"Huh, I think you mean so I can sort out the plans faster. Honestly, Tavros, do you ever actually do any work around here? No, don't answer that. Just stay here and play with your fidosaurs or fipospores or whatever. I've got some things to do and I don't need you distracting me."

With that she strides out of the block, leaving you alone in a room that is at once both so familiar and so alien to you. With a sigh you wheel yourself over to a pile of cards and plush hosts, picking up the wigglerish game.

"It's fiduspawn," you mumble in annoyance.