Note: So I decided that we haven't been paying enough attentions to the humans. And voilà.

It's been a little difficult keeping up with my usual updates. D: The first several chapters had been already mostly written out, but now I'm working completely from Scratch each week. From Scratch. AHAHAHAHA- okay I'll shut up now.

I hope you enjoy!

I own nothing of Homestuck or Harry Potter. I am not making money from this, nor am I intending any copyright infringement.

Chapter 11:

There was something wholly terrible and evil about sunlight. Daytime was the traditional stage setting for any good horror story worth mentioning, and there were countless spine-chilling tales about trolls who'd wandered out of their hives in the middle of the day, searching for adventure. Of course, that didn't mean Vriska couldn't appreciate the beauty that sunlight brought to the world; it did have its own sort of loveliness to it that the usual night couldn't quite achieve. The way the air seemed to thicken in daylight, the dramatic dichotomy between the shady darkness and vivid color, the eye-searing fire of... No. Forget that shit. Vriska, like most trolls, would always be more comfortable under the subtle, discreet light of the stars and moons.

Some troll would surely find it amusingly ironic that she was the Hero of Light, with a bright yellow sun emblazoned across her chest whenever she awakened her God Tier form, but Vriska herself didn't see much point in irony. At least, not when she was the butt of the joke.

Her shadow flew beside her, the sunlight leaving a dark spot of shadow with blue wings on the side of the castle as she flew directly upwards, windows of each floor passing as she went. Finally, she reached a window at the top of a tower, and lighted gently on its sill before turning around to survey the grounds below her.

A bell reverberated through the air, and some students began to file away from the scorch marks on the grass, although the bulk of them remained, staring blankly like milkbeasts on stupidity drugs as Terezi was taken away on a stretcher.

"Ha," Vriska said to herself, "The psychotic bitch."

She sat down on the windowsill and pulled out a small handheld communicator. She recognized the usernames of all her troll comrades (minus Aradia), but the window that let her reach the humans was unavailable. Her eyes widened as she went back in the pester logs and found them all to be blank. All of them were gone.

"John..." she whispered, gripping the communicator in her hand until her fingers ached. She tried searching the usernames she knew of... ghostyTrickster and ectoBiologist, but came up blank.

She nearly threw the handheld away with all her might, but instead captchalogued it back in her deck and turned to step into the room.

The room was filled with all manner of strange, spindly objects, while the stone floor was covered with a faded, but perhaps valuable carpet. The walls were nearly entirely coated with strange and rather ugly paintings of sleeping humans, and where they didn't cover one wall was a large bookcase filled with dusty books. Upon this bookcase was resting a pointed, tattered hat. On a whim, she floated up to it and set it on her head.

What're you doing here? asked the hat, quite suddenly and without provocation. Well okay, she'd put it on her head, but that didn't mean she wanted it to talk to her. Geez. Did inanimate objects have no decency?

"Noooooooothing," she said shiftily. She'd done stranger things than talk to a crummy wizard's hat.

I don't think I've sorted you... said the hat thoughtfully, Are you a student at this school?

"Not that I know of."

Hm, well, the Headmaster did say that twelve trolls would attend as students, and as of now only ten have arrived. It would follow that you are the eleventh, unless there are more trolls of your age group wandering around the countryside of which we are unaware.

"Yeah?" Vriska lifted the brim up the Hat away from her eyes and landed back on the floor to examine the assortment of items on the desk placed in the middle of the room. It was covered with mostly pointless things: a few letters, a couple books, some feathers, a bottle of ink, and a small, spherical white ball... Wait, was that what she thought it was? She picked it up and examined it, rubbing her thumb across the smooth surface. It certainly looked like what she thought it was.

Would you like me to sort you into your proper House so that you may join your classmates? asked the Hat.

"I have a better idea."

Vriska stared down at the cue ball, slightly wary, for the last time she'd been in close contact with such an item, it had quite literally exploded in her face. One does not easily forget an experience that cost them their left arm, eye, and copious amounts of blood.

What 'House' would the hat sort me into? She asked, focusing her vision eightfold on the white ball in her hand.

Almost immediately, a single word emerged within. Slytherin.

And what the hell is a 'House,' anyway? Suddenly she had a thousand questions ready to fly. Old habits die hard.

It is one of the four student groupings of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, said the words in the ball.

She frowned. Am I at this school now?

Yes.

"You would sort me into Slytherin, so I guess that's where I'll go," she said vaguely to the hat, slipping the cue ball into her sylladex for safekeeping.

Is that so? responded the hat, not sounding the slightest bit surprised.

"Yeah."

Suddenly, the door shifted, and Vriska's wings whirred back to life, propelling her up into the tall, stone ceiling. She landed softly on an arching beam and peered down below at the intruder.

An old human strode into the room and began searching her desk. After a few minutes, she pulled out a wooden rod similar to the one Terezi had used to burn out her eyes. Vriska ducked back behind the beam worriedly, but kept her eyes on the human, as he or she (it was impossible to tell from this angle) waved the rod in the air. Almost immediately, the cue ball in her sylladex fell out of its card and soared directly at the human's head. Vriska grasped for the ball as it fell through the air, but missed, the tips of her gloves just brushing against it as it fled from her. Hissing softly to herself, she ducked behind the beam again and watched as the ball fell onto the person's head with a painful doof. An instant later, she hid completely behind the beam as the human looked up at her. Her heart pounded with excitement as she crouched on the beam, careful not to let a single corner of her clothing become visible to the human below...

"Get down from there this instant, Miss Vriska Serket. We have some matters we must discuss."

She peered over the edge of the beam, the brim of the hat drooping over her eyes, and frowned down at the old human.

"How'd you find me?"

"My cue ball came from somewhere, and I'm certain I would have remembered if I had left it up in the ceiling for safekeeping. Besides, your wings were clearly visible on either side of that beam. Now, please come down, I have some questions for you that need answering."

Vriska pulled her head back and smacked her forehead against the beam in front of her. Her wings, goddamnit, how could she forget her wings? One simply does not forget their wings. But she was sure that her Luckiness Gambit was too high right then for things to be going wrong. Was losing the cue ball and being discovered sneaking around this human's quarters somehow beneficial? The fates had the worst sense of humor. She smacked her head one more time for good measure and fluttered down to the floor of the room on her treacherous wings.

"It just doesn't make any sense," Hermione said as the trio trotted to Charms, "How could Terezi have predicted all that? She must have known beforehand."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Come off it, Hermione. Just because someone is good at something you're not is no reason to get all bitter about it."

She acted as though he hadn't spoken, and continued to huff up words as they ran. "And why would she point Fiend Fyre directly into her eyes? I'm shocked her wand was even willing to attack its own owner!"

"Probably to spite Vriska, right?" Harry replied as they skidded around a corner and made for the least tricked-up staircase in the South Wing, "I've never seen anyone so committed to outdoing their opponent like that. Trolls are bloody insane."

Hermione suddenly stopped midway up the staircase, and it was not because she'd gotten a foot stuck in a joke stair.

"Come on, Hermione, we're going to be late!" said Ron, "Isn't that the worst crime possible after forgetting a homework assignment?"

Hermione ignored him entirely. (Years of practice and all that jazz.) "They must be Kismesis! It makes sense, doesn't it? Remember what Karkat said on the train about..."

Ron groaned in exasperation. "If you think I actually paid attention to a word he said about all that weird quadrant stuff, you're full of hippogriff shi-" (Hermione shot him look.) "-ipments. Hippogriff shipments, right Harry?"

They picked up their speed and just barely made it on time to Charms, but it seemed like Professor Flitwick had not yet arrived. The students that had showed up early milled about in the hallway in front of the Charms classroom awaiting the arrival of their teacher and babbling amongst themselves about the fiery showdown that had taken place by the lake during the lunch break. It wasn't every day that explosive flames of such magnitude took hold of the castle grounds. (Although to be fair, the Pyromagicians United Club did have a spotless record of accidentally incinerating something ancient and priceless at every one of their bi-montly meetings since they started three years ago. Of course, the club was dissolved three years ago after just two meetings, when a passing teacher decided that it was all very unsafe. It was a good thing, too. Someone could've been burnt down the castle or something. Not that it mattered later, when the Battle for Hogwarts leveled a full third of the school to pure rubble. Still. Out-of-control-conflagrations: generally not a good thing. Let's just agree on that and move on already.)

"Were you there? You went down to the lake, right?" Neville asked of Harry.

"Er, yeah..."

"It was bloody FANTASTIC," Ron said enthusiastically, "You should've seen the size of the Fiend Fyre. A troll came falling through the air on a dragon! A real live, er, dead dragon. Then Terezi went up to her and they got in this massive shouting match like you wouldn't believe. I swear, half the students crapped their robes when Terezi pulled her wand, and you should've seen the look on McGongall's face, I thought she was going to chuck a corpse clear over the Forbidden Forest..."

"Ron..." said Hermione testily.

Ron jaw snapped closed immediately, and the eavesdroppers (otherwise known as Everyone In The Vicinity) quickly pretended to continue their own conversations.

When Flitwick finally arrived, he apologized for his lateness, explaining that he'd been needed for repairing the front of the school. Then he, like the rest of their teachers, described the importance of the seventh year and the NEWT examinations, bluh bluh bluh, and then predictably gave out a massive homework assignment that made everyone (except Hermione) groan with a sense of impending physical pain. They were expected to figure out a charm that would "do something creative with a cup of water," without using any incantations they had already memorized in their past six years of magical study.

"And no cheating by going to the library and looking up a tricky spell," he said with a wink, "I'll know if you have. Write a paper at least seventeen inches long on your approach to the problem to be handed in three weeks time, and I'll pick someone at random to give a demonstration the day you hand in the essay. For the next class, read chapter one of your assigned textbook, Charms Theory; it should help you with your assignment."

Everyone (except Hermione), moaned profusely about the workload as they walked to dinner that day.

"Can you believe it?" Ron complained, "How are we supposed to figure out something like that for Charms? Couldn't he at least give us more guidelines than 'do something creative with a cup of water'? Unbelievable!"

"You know what's really unbelievable? The size of that fat hole you call a mouth," said a voice cooly from behind them.

"Oh, shut the mothergrubbing f*** up, Draco," Ron grumbled without even bothering to turn around, "I'm not in the mood to make jokes of the throbbing little skinnyass nooksucking pustule you call a face."

Draco was stunned into silence for long enough that the three Griffindors had the time to walk calmly down to the end of the hallway and turn the corner out of sight. They then broke down into girly little giggles.

"I wish I could've turned around and seen his face," Harry chortled, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, "But that would've ruined the effect."

"You've spent far too much time around Karkat, Ron. That was excessive. You know Draco's just sore about everything that happened last year. I'm sure the Malfoys suffered during the war too," Hermione said in a quasi-disapproving (and not at all convincing) tone as she reigned in the snickers that were trying to escape her lungs.

"Mind you, we saved his sorry little arse last year. Twice," muttered Ron, "He oughtta be more grateful. At the very least he could hold off on the stupid taunting."

"I think he doesn't know how," Harry said reasonably, just as they reached the Great Hall.

In the Ravenclaw common room after dinner, Sollux and Kanaya were comparing the notes they'd taken in Potions. Slughorn had demanded a long essay on the topic of Sleeping Potions and their various components, and neither of the trolls were planning on putting off of their assignments. Yay for being role model intelligent, hardworking, blood-sucking students. Or maybe that was just one of them. Unless Sollux had something he wasn't ready to admit yet.

For the moment, however, Sollux brought up a topic completely unrelated to potions.

"Spill it, KN," he said, looking up from Kanaya's piece of parchment and fixing his gaze on her glowing face, "What's bothering you?"

"Pardon?"

It was usually pretty difficult to tell when Sollux rolled his eyes (what with him appearing to have no pupils and whatnot), but in that moment Kanaya was reasonably certain that she'd just been on the receiving end of a massive eye-roll. Or perchance he was just rolling his head slightly towards the ceiling before looking back at her. She couldn't be completely sure.

"Just because I don't particularly like dealing with other trolls, doesn't mean I'm a complete shitpan when it comes to picking up on emotions. You're distracted and uncomfortable for some reason," he broke off for an extended pause, squared his shoulders with resignation, then continued wearily, "Do you need another drink?"

She shook her head quickly "No, No, I'm Quite Alright. Karkat was kind enough to donate a large quantity of his blood to me this morning."

"So what's grubbing you?" Sollux pressed, sounding more eager to carry on the conversation now that he was sure that it wouldn't end with Kanaya's fangs lodged in his jugular.

She glanced over her shoulder, but the rest of the Ravenclaws were busy with their own various activities. Sighing, she shifted a little closer to Sollux and lowered her voice.

"Karkat has been having difficulties with Gamzee again."

"Right. I remember the message you sent me a couple nights ago. So? Did the MoThErF***Er finally snap his shit and bite someone's head off?"

"No. Karkat got him under control. It's just that..." she broke off for an extended pause, squared her shoulders with resignation, then continued wearily, "Well, they are each other's moirails now."

Sollux's expression flickered suddenly in understanding. "Did you have a pale crush on one of them?"

She sighed again. "Karkat."

"Thought so."

"He has always been a close friend of mine, and I have always thought that I might be able to help relieve him of some of his... stress."

"Stress is a pretty tame way of referring to the fang-gnashing rage KK's always in. Try and hold a conversation with him, and half the time he starts off with telling you what a pain in the f***ass you are," Sollux snorted, "and the other half of the time he just skips straight to the point and tells you to go away and f*** the first bucket that crosses your path."

She gave him a withering stare.

"2orry. Go on."

"...Fine. Please Refrain From Making Such Insensitive Comments In The Future. I have not been able to help myself from pitying him in a way that I'm fairly certain is pale. The thing is, I am fully aware that Gamzee is desperately in need of a capable moirail, and Karkat is, no doubt, the most well-equipped troll based both on his apparent calming abilities and the simple coincidence of geological location. Although I find it questionable as to whether or not Gamzee is suited to pacifying Karkat in return, I can still see that they are the best for each other in their diamond quadrants, especially concerning the current situation of us all."

Sollux stared at her wordlessly, as though waiting for her to get to the "heart" of the matter. (Terrible pun x1 combo!)

"It's just... I Am Incredibly Frustrated With My Own Habit Of Falling For Others In Ways That Invariably Ends Up Unrequited. Am I Doing Something Wrong?"

"Well, I wouldn't say that, Kanaya. Look, I'm not going to pretend that I'm an expert in this shit, that's KK's deal. And I'm not going to say that you and Karkat would be the best palepair right now. Frankly, I agree with you that Gamzee desperately needs a hardass moirail. But from what I can see, you're ridiculously passive when it comes to your quadrants. Seriously, I've hardly seen you do squat to pursue anybody you're interested in. It might do you good to be more open about how you feel. That's not to say you should start pulling an Eridan all over the place, but you do understand what I mean?"

"Yes." She looked away and down into the fireplace.

"Good. You feel any better?"

"Almost Marginally So."

"Then my work here is done. Come on, we have magiic two learn," he said, with a touch of sarcasm. She smiled slightly, and the two of them turned back to their books. Some time later, Kanaya broke the silence, and the heart-to-heart (or "diamond-to-diamond"? ...No. Nevermind.) officially came to a close.

"Are you sure he stated that monkswood is the desired ingredient?" Kanaya asked, releasing her copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi from her sylladex and letting it fall to her lap, "I could have sworn that he mentioned something about dragonsbane, but it is altogether possible I misheard..."

"He probably said wolfsbane. Monkswoof and wolfsbane make that f***ing nasty sleeping potion called the Bucket of Death or something," replied Sollux, his glasses flickering with the light of the fire beside them.

"Draught of Sleeping Death, Sollux. Please try to avoid such crude jokes," Kanaya said, her face scrunching with distaste.

"Hey, it's not my fault they want us to boil all kinds of random shit in cauldrons. Come on, KN, you have to agree that cauldron is totally a euphemism for a misshapen pail, god. Humans are dii2gu2tiing."

Kanaya pursed her lips. "To be honest, I have the sneaking suspicion that humans do not make use of receptacles when it comes to procreation..."

"Stop right there, Kanaya," groaned Sollux, holding up both hands, "I know you were the one in charge of the Maitrorb and everything, but I really don't want to discuss procreation right now, human or otherwise."

"Point taken. Truthfully, I am rather uncomfortable with the subject, myself. Shall we move on?"

"What's this? Are you trolls talking about procreation?"

The two trolls turned to see who'd spoken. It was a young man in their grade, with an impish grin on his face that looked as though it were permanently stuck there. Beside him was a girl that Kanaya recognized as being named Padma Patil, and another man she recognized as being Anthony Goldstein. The nameless man took a seat in an empty armchair beside them, uninvited, and leaned forward as though getting comfortable for a long, intellectual discussion.

"No," Sollux stated flatly, "Now go the hell away."

Padma giggled, and the man's grin widened further.

"I am sorry, I do not recall your name," Kanaya said politely.

"Surname: Boot. Given name: Terry."

"Ah, yes. In case your own memory has failed you, I am Kanaya Maryam, and this is Sollux Captor."

"Anthony Goldstein," said Anthony Goldstein.

"Padma Patil," said Padma Patil.

Oh, the redundancy. But Kanaya knew that introductions were an important aspect of polite conversation with humans, so she nodded in confirmation to the statement of their names. Of course, trolls usually didn't bother with introductions and skipped straight to the unannounced stabbings, but cultural sensitivity was probably the best way to go when living amongst an enormous hive of humans.

"KN, we are not making conversation with these people," Sollux hissed irritably, "Especially not if they're fixated on the topic of sordid receptacles."

"The heck?" questioned Anthony, "I thought Terry said something about procreation. Let's get back to that."

Padma rolled her eyes. "Men," she said knowingly to Kanaya. Kanaya stared politely back at her with a blank smile on her face. Rule of Thumb: When it doubt of what the f*** a human is trying to communicate, smile and hope they're not proposing something discomfiting. Works nearly 100% of the time.

"Sordid receptacles? Could you explain what you mean?" asked Terry, his beaming smile growing still wider.

Sollux shook his head. "Yeah. And by 'Yeah,' I really mean, 'No, hell no, and hell f***ing no.' But good for you, Kanaya! You finally found someone who likes discussing the mystery of humans and buckets. I'll be over here, well out of the way, trying to find some sort of word printing device in my sylladex. Because I'll be f***ed if I'm going to write this essay by hand."

With that said, he pulled a thick, heavy card down from above his head and started typing letters onto the keypad on its face, hacking into the directory of his sylladex.

"Wait, what?" said Padma, doing a double-take at the suddenly appearing card.

Neither Kanaya nor Sollux felt much like explaining anything.

So they didn't.

Or, well...

Some time later:

"Trolls cannot reproduce independently as humans do," Kanaya said in a monotone, "We need a mother grub to process the genetic material and lay the eggs. A brood may hatch thousands of grubs, which take a more recognizable shape once they pupate into wrigglers."

"That's actually pretty interesting," Padma said thoughtfully, "So a society of trolls is kind of like a colony of ants, or bees?"

"That is one way of looking at it," Kanaya shrugged, "I myself tend to think that human communities are like hoofbeast herds, so I suppose your idea may be a valid assumption."

Anthony Goldstein meanwhile, had long since fallen asleep in another armchair, after choosing to make economical use of his time.

"You didn't explain what buckets have to do with all this," Terry pointed out.

"2hut up already, we're not explaining this shit to you." Sollux pressed down on a few keys, and paper started printing out the side of his husktop, the words marching across the parchment in orderly rows.

"Whoa, look at that! It almost looks like that Muggle thing called a printer," Terry exclaimed.

"Hold on..." Padma said, turning to face Kanaya, "So do you trolls have a mother grub with you somewhere?"

Kanaya looked down at her hands, clenched tightly in her lap. In her mind's eye was blinding-hot, swirling lightning bursting with green, and she stared into the grey eyes of someone she'd once called comrade. Darkness filling half his face, fangs slightly bared, and a gut-consuming rage blossoming inside her ribcage with an explosive force to rival the destruction of their hopes...

"No," answered Sollux, "A f***ing idiot apparently blew our only Maitrorb into pieces. So before you ask: Yeah, our species is pretty much f***ed. If our species were a squeakbeast and our situation right now were a hammer, that squeakbeast would be a shitty little smear on the carpet of life, and the hammer is still making a living of pummeling the smear into oblivion."

There was a slightly awkward pause after that.

And then Goldstein woke up and groggily asked where the clubs were hidden, and all the awkwardness of the situation neatly transferred onto his shoulders. How convenient.

Somewhere in a Time that is Hard to Place:

Aradia stood beside a glowing Kanaya in a rather small dream bubble depicting the countryside where Aradia's hive had been situated. The grass around them was freshly dug, and they both watched as a younger Aradia played a happy game of Fetch-The-Priceless-Artifact with her lusus.

"It always makes me sad, seeing myself so happy and unaware like that," commented the older Aradia, "It's strange to think that she's dead, but hasn't remembered it yet."

They turned away and hid themselves more securely behind the corner of Aradia's hive, allowing the dream Aradia to continue playing, blissfully unaware.

"I Have Some Bad News," Kanaya confessed, after a moments pause, "I believe I was killed."

"That may be true, but your role is not over yet. You'll return to the lab when you wake up, and continue helping our friends." Aradia gestured at Kanaya's glowing face, "Just look at yourself. You're living up to the fate to which you were always assigned!"

Suddenly, their scene changed, and the hive collapsed into fresh, smoking rubble. Aradia's lusus was crushed, and the dream Aradia floated over to the others, her eyes glowing mechanically red and the rest of her body transformed into a robot.

"I remember," she said simply.

God Tier Aradia nodded sadly in response.

A moment later, the scene shifted, and Terezi appeared.

"Terezi!" exclaimed Aradia in surprise, "Have you fallen asleep?"

"Huh? What the H3LL?" yelled Terezi, her eyes flicking around to take in her surroundings, which were the forests by her old home, "Where's the Spider8itch? She was right..."

"0h my G0d," the dream Aradia whispered, "0h, n0."

"What is the matter?" Kanaya asked urgently.

"Take 0ff y0ur glasses, Terezi."

Terezi complied, and a long, tense silence ensued.

"Aradia," said the dream Aradia sternly, "I am the 0ne wh0 t00k the ~ATH b00k in which Gamzee wr0te his p0rtion 0f the c0de with everyb0dy's bl00d. Y0u must retrieve it fr0m 0ur planet's m00n right away. D0c Scratch has it. Get Kanaya t0 send y0u 0ff. She's at the t0p 0f her echeladder, but she d0esn't have much time. She might awaken any minute. Put the b00k s0mewhere the rest 0f us will be able t0 find later."

"Why? What's so important about this book?"

"We b0th kn0w the answer t0 that. Unless y0u are n0 l0nger as receptive t0 the whipsers 0f the H0rr0rterr0rs 0f the 0uter rim as y0u 0nce were. The b00k may h0ld answers. But we d0n't have much time."

Aradia bit her lip nervously. "But if I were to send the book back, wouldn't we have it right now?"

"We might. However, because y0u are n0t the Her0 0f Space, it may take y0u a great deal 0f time t0 catch back up with 0ur p0siti0ns here. The 0uter rim is n0t t0 be taken lightly."

"But..."

"We. D0n't. Have. Much. Time."

Aradia took a deep breath, and then let it out. "Alright. Kanaya?"

"I'm not altogether certain as to whether I'll be able to successfully transport you back to our planet. I am, of course, at the level where I am capable of wrinkling space and shortening distance, but I have never attempted the transport of objects as massive as people, not out of the outer rim, nor through such large..."

"Just do it, Kanaya!" Aradia snapped, her eyes bright, her usually friendly expression touched with a manic look that aged and darkened her face, "I need to know what's gone wrong."

"If you insist," Kanaya said hesitantly, and lifted her glowing hands in the air. The landscape around them began to shift again, and at the same time, the air in front of them rippled, looking as though the surface of a plate of water had folded back in on itself, surface touching surface and creating the illusion of a hole.

Aradia immediately stepped forward cautiously reached her hand toward the ripple.

Just as she was about to step through, Kanaya suddenly disappeared, and the hole snapped closed, sucking Aradia away with the mingled sounds of of an inverted cannon shot and a scream.

[carcinoGeneticist started trolling centaursTesticle]

CG: EQUIUS
CG: BECAUSE YOU'RE SHOCKINGLY THE LEAST LIKELY OF US TO TAKE THIS THE WRONG WAY OR TURN IT INTO SOME KIND OF CIRCUS SHITF***ERY THAT RESULTS IN ANOTHER APOCALYPSE, I'M ORDERING YOU TO KEEP AN EYE ON ERIDAN.

CT: D→ What.

CG: YOU HEARD ME.
CG: WITHOUT SOMEONE TO TALK TO, THE LITTLE SHIT WILL TRIP OVER HIS OWN F***ING GALAXY-SIZED MEDICAL CASE OF NARCISSISM AND INTO A PATHETIC LITTLE HOLE OF MISERY.
CG: AND THEN MAYBE GO CRAZY ENOUGH DOWN THERE TO PULL A TEXTBOOK RAGICIDE WHEN HE CRAWLS BACK OUT.
CG: IT WOULDN'T BE THE FIRST TIME.
CG: I THINK.

CT: D→ You are ordering me to keep the seadweller company?
CT: D→ Is that what is happening here?
CT: D→ I...

CG: DON'T SAY YOU NEED A TOWEL.
CG: I SWEAR. I SWEAR I WILL PULL A WHIRLING DEVICE OUT OF MY ASS, POINT IT IN YOUR GENERAL DIRECTION, AND SHIT IN IT UNTIL YOU'RE GAGGING ON THE SWEET TASTE OF HATE STINK.

CT: D→ Abso100tly, sir.
CT: D→ I will try my best not to entice your e%crement.
CT: D→ Is there anything at all else you would like to order me to do.

CG: MY GOD, EQUIUS.
CG: MY
CG: F***ING
CG: GOD.
CG: THERE ARE NO WORDS IN EXISTENCE THAT CAN BEGIN TO DESCRIBE YOUR BULLSHIT INSANITY.
CG: JUST TROLL ERIDAN FROM TIME TO TIME, MAKE SURE HE'S NOT ABOUT TO PULL HIS WAND ON ANYONE.

CT: D→ His wand?

CG: YES. HIS WAND. HIS MAGIC TWIG. WHAT ARE YOU, AN IDIOT?
CG: DON'T ANSWER THAT.
CG: JUST MAKE SURE HE DOESN'T FLY OFF THE HANDLE. I'M NOT GOING TO DO IT; HE'S A PAIN IN THE ASS. YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE OF US WHO HE HASN'T PROPOSED TO, KILLED, OR BEEN KILLED BY. I HAVE MADE ALL KINDS OF LEADERLY CHARTS AND DATA GRAPHS AND ET F***ING CETERA TO ASSESS EVERYONE'S CAPABILITY, AND YOU'RE THE LEAST WORST IDIOT FOR THE JOB.

CT: D→ Pardon me if I come a% as being disrespectful or unc00perative,

CG: A%? WHAT THE F***?

CT: D→ Across.
CT: D→ As I was saying, it seems to me as though you are attempting to set up myself and the highblood in a moirallegiance.
CT: D→ I already have a moirail, and I care for her very much, you f001ish lowb100d.
CT: D→ I mean,
CT: D→ Fiddlesticks.
CT: D→ ...I need a towel.

CG: I'LL JUST PRETEND YOU DIDN'T SAY THAT TO KEEP THIS F***ING CRAPPY EXCUSE OF A CONVERSATION AS CIVIL AS POSSIBLE.
CG: I'M NOT SETTING YOU UP WITH ERIDAN, GOD. I WOULDN'T WISH THAT DESPERATE LITTLE F***ER ON ANYONE'S ROMANTIC QUADRANTS. WHAT KIND OF ASSHOLE DO YOU TAKE ME FOR?
CG: DON'T ANSWER THAT.
CG: THIS IS TO KEEP THE MURDERS AT A MINIMUM, ALRIGHT?
CG: MY NIGHTMARES HAVE BEEN PRETTY F***ING TERRIBLE, TO BE HONEST. THE MOST GRUESOME HORRORTERRORS EVER CONCEIVED HAVE BEEN RAPING MY THINK-PAN MERCILESSLY, AND I'M STILL SLIGHTLY ADDICTED TO SLEEPING POTIONS SO IT CAN'T REALLY BE HELPED. ADDICTIONS SUCK BULGEASS.

CT: D→ Your e%pressions are as vulgar as always. I really do not approve in the slightest.
CT: D→ But I suppose one with b100d such as yours are simply fated to act without intelligence or dignity.
CT: D→ In fact, you act quite becomingly for one of your station in society.

CG: SHUT THE F*** UP AND QUIT ACTING LIKE "SOCIETY" IS SOMETHING THAT APPLIES TO US ANYMORE.
CG: LAST TIME I CHECKED, WHICH, BY THE WAY, WAS RIGHT THIS F***ING INSTANT, HAVING ELEVEN REMAINING MEMBERS OF OUR SPECIES AND A DEAD HOME PLANET PRETTY MUCH MEANS THAT ANY "SOCIETAL" STANDINGS ARE MOOT POINT.
CG: SO MOOT THAT IF YOU WERE TO ALCHEMIZE THE FANCIEST F***ERY OF A MICROSCOPE EVER TO EXIST IN PARADOX SPACETIME, AND THEN TAKE A LOOK AT THESE SO-CALLED "SOCIETAL" STANDINGS, YOU'D SEE THAT THERE'S NOTHING THERE. NOTHING.
CG: BECAUSE THE FACT IS, THERE NEVER WAS ANY TO BEGIN WITH. THE HEMOSPECTRUM IS A SHITTY MADE-UP ASSFART OF A FANTASY THAT HIGHBLOODS INVENTED TO FEEL BETTER ABOUT THEIR OWN SAD, SAD, LIVES. AND IT'S EVEN LESS IN EXISTENCE NOW. IT'S EXISTENCE IS NEGATIVE.
CG: SO SHUT THE F*** UP ABOUT HOW I TALK AND JUST DO WHAT I TELL YOU, WITHOUT WHINING LIKE A LITTLE WRIGGLER ON THE RECEIVING END OF A CULLING FORK TO THE SHAME GLOBE.

CT: D→ I...
CT: D→ I need...

CG: I'LL CUT YOU OFF THERE BEFORE YOU SAY SOMETHING THAT MAKES ME VOMIT MY ENTRAILS ONTO THE SCREEN.
CG: ANYWAY, JUST KEEP ERIDAN FROM GOING OFF HIS ROCKER, AND WITH SOME LUCK WE'LL ALL SURVIVE THIS SHITTY JOKE OF A SCHOOL LONG ENOUGH TO FIGURE OUT WHY THE F*** WE'RE PRANCING AROUND A MAGICAL CASTLE WITH A BUNCH OF GIGGLY HUMANS.

[carcinoGeneticist ceased trolling centaursTesticle]

CT: D→ ...I really do need a towel.

Hermione closed the book before her with a frustrated thump.

She was in the library with Harry and Ron, who were using the books to study up on their Transfiguration. She, however, was searching the shelves for any information about the trolls. There were not very many students in the library at this hour, and some of the lamps had already been extinguished in the far ends of the library. Harry glanced up at the sound of the closing book, while Ron continued to scribble off a few more sentences on the subject of human transfiguration.

"Any luck, Hermione?" asked Harry tentatively.

"No. But it doesn't make any sense. Surely if Professor McGonagall had a way of knowing where the trolls are from, there must be a way to read up on it? I can't find a single, stinking book on the subject!" she huffed, aggravated, and bent over to pick up a fresh book from the stack she'd piled next to their table.

"Oh, hello there Hermione, Ron, Harry," said a voice from behind the latter two. Hermione heaved up a book and set it on the table, glancing up to see who'd spoken.

"Hullo Luna," Ron said absently, "Hey, Hermione, was it the Intestina curse that was outlawed as a form of torture in the seventeenth century?"

"Yes, Ron. It says so right there in the book in front of you. Just read it for yourself."

"Asking you's easier, everyone knows that."

"Hermione, you look like a Whacky Batwinger's been sucking on your blood," Luna interjected seriously, "I have a tonic for that if you need it."

Hermione clenched her jaw and willfully focused her gaze on Luna's cork necklace so as to avoid rolling her eyes out of her head. She really wasn't in the mood for Luna's ridiculous notions of imaginary creatures. There were books to be read. Many, many books.

Harry smiled and said patiently, "No, it's not a Whacky Batwinger. Hermione is just cross because she can't find any books about the trolls."

"Oh! That's all? Just look up Skaia or Alternia. My father printed an article once..."

"Thank you, Luna," Hermione said hastily before the Ravenclaw could get completely carried away, "Actually, we should all be getting back to our common rooms, before curfew, so we'll see you later, alright?"

"Sure," nodded Luna, smiling. Suddenly, her eyes bulged out with excitement and she held up one finger to indicate that they should wait a moment. Luna then gazed upwards, squinted one eye completely shut, and delicately reached her forefinger up into the air, her tongue poking out of her mouth in apparent concentration.

Hermione glanced down to raise her eyebrows at Ron in a what-do-you-expect-from-her sort of way, and consequently missed an an impressively loud blast that made both her friends jump in their seats. Quickly, she looked back up at Luna, whose face was covered in soot in a way that suggested that something had just exploded in her face. She was now clutching a thick, black book that was spattered with various colors.

"Wait, what just happened?" Hermione demanded, as Luna carefully blew some dust off the book.

"Gamzee gave me a a spare sylladex this summer," Luna said serenely through her mask of ash, "It's a Surprise Modus. I never really know what will happen when I pull something out of it, but I set my Strife Specibus to Wandkind, so I don't have to worry about losing my wand anymore. It's quite useful, actually."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared up at her blankly.

"Anyway," Luna continued briskly, "Here you go, Hermione. This book came in one of the captchalogue cards. I don't think Gamzee even knew he had it, to be honest, but I hope he doesn't mind if I lend it to you. Since you were trying to find out about the trolls, it should be quite useful."

Hermione took the still-sooty book and stared down at it, feeling as though this perfectly routine excursion to the library had suddenly taken a very surreal turn. When she looked back up, Luna had absconded. No, Luna had left. Not even Hermione was pretentious enough to use the word 'abscond' in her casual stream-of-thought consciousness.

"Get your things," Hermione snapped bossily, slipping the book into her bag, "We really should go back to the common room."

"Hold onto your skirt, Hermione. Lemme finish this sentence first," Ron responded, quickly grabbing his quill and scribbling down a few more words onto his parchment.

Halfway through their usual clambering back through the Portait-Hole into Griffindor Tower, Nepeta pitched herself at them from the other end of the room, knocking all three of them straight back through the hole and to the stone floor of the hallway.

"Merlin, Leijon! What are you doing?" Ron groaned, sitting up and rubbing the back of his head as she hopped to her feet and bounced around them.

"You three are furiends with Karkat, right? So you clawly know where he hiss, right? Where hiss he?" she cried, giving them no time to answer between queries.

"Are those cat puns you're making?" Harry asked blankly, his face looking as though it couldn't quite decide what kind of expression it wanted to make.

"Hiss gone," she wailed, "What if something pawful happened? I haven't seen him in furever!"

Hermione made an long-suffering sort of noise in the back of her throat and got to her feet, hoisting her book bag onto her shoulders. "You had lunch with him, Nepeta."

She hissed loudly, her hair standing on end.

"You don't understand! The last time we all got sepurrated, everyone went crazy and started killing each other!"

The three of them stared blankly at her. So many blank stares had been given that day, one would think they would have run out, but apparently that was not the case. Blank stares may well be an inexhaustible resource. Shocking.

"What...?" Ron finally managed.

"Yeah! We purr all dying! We need Karkat as a leader to keep us furom purrdering each othfur!"

"...Purrdering," said Hermione flatly, "Really."

"Blimey, Karkat was your leader?" Ron asked, a grin spreading across his face, "That idiot?"

Ron was narrowly saved from decapitation at the claws of a suddenly irate Nepeta by the timely appearance of Karkat. Thank goodness for timely appearances.

"Nepeta, put your f***ing claws AWAY. And don't jump on me. I SAID DON'T F***ING JUMP-" Nepeta jumped on him. "-Well then fine. Just keep up that insubordination and we'll be well on our way to getting ourselves thoroughly f***ed over as usual. You know what? Nevermind. I was a crap leader anyway, do whatever the f*** you want. But seriously, keep your claws in their deck."

"What claws?" asked Ron.

"The ones she was about to ejaculate out of her Strife Deck and surgically lacerate your flimsy piece of skull with," Karkat said flatly, not even attempting to get out from beneath the purring Nepeta perched on his head, "You really shouldn't antagonize her, she's not quite right in the head."

"You're one to talk," muttered Ron, plenty loud enough for everyone in the vicinity to hear. Karkat swelled with preparatory air, his teeth gnashing together like a meat/flesh grinder.

"Er, anyway," Harry interrupted, gesturing toward the common room, "After you."

End of Chapter 11

Note: Sorry, I don't think this chapter has much in the "funny" department. D: Ugh so frustrating. It also feels kinda... Off. Again a lot of dialogue, and I'm not sure if I really achieved what I was going for. I've passed my two-week threshold, though, so I figured I really needed to post something new. I just hope it's good enough.

And you know how I said the human kids might not show up here? I lied. They won't play much of a part, but we might see a little them anyway down the line. :P Waaay down the line.

Review pleeeeeeeease? :3 (Yes that was eight e's. So you don't have to count.)