Let's do a semi-not-really-quick update to begin to make up for spending months not updating this shit.
This one's gonna have an interesting AU. humanstuck It'll be pretty easy to follow though.
My name is Karkat Vantas, and I am the youngest prince of Prospit, a bright, lavish kingdom. I've lived my entire life with nobles and aristocrats alike hovering over me, deciding my every move. I have six older siblings (three sisters, three brothers) and all of them have done great things with their lives. But me? No. I'm not even allowed to leave the castle!
All because I have some kind of rare blood disease. Honestly, I've never been entirely clear on what exactly it does internally (and I'm pretty sure the royal doctors don't know much better than I do). All I know for certain about it is that I am beyond fucking tired of all the tests and medications that never help a god damn thing.
I just can't fucking take this bull shit anymore. So I'm leaving. Running away. It's not like past me has ever actually been anything more than a worthless, sickly piece of shit just sitting around waiting to fucking die anyways. But that's going to change. I don't know where I'm going or what I'm going to do, but the point is that future me will be doing something. I mean, I'm gonna die alone either way. I may as well at least try to do something with my life.
They didn't think I'd hear, but I heard the doctors talking to my dad. Saying I probably wouldn't even make it till winter. I'd always done what I was told, blindly trusting that these fuckers could actually do something- but now I know. I have to get out of here.
. . .
For hours, I've laid in bed, pretending to sleep soundly, so that I'll be left alone long enough to escape. Nonetheless, I'm checked on regularly until about three in the morning. That only gives me a few hours to travel by foot out of the kingdom without getting caught before the sun rises. This should be tons of fun.
I swiftly grab my knapsack, and go to the window, bringing the rope of blankets I had made with me. I tie one end to a piece of furniture and let it dangle out of the open window. It just barely reaches the ground. Taking a deep breath, I step out of the window and begin to climb down. Luckily, it's strong enough to hold me, and I make it down without breaking any bones.
I pull my hood over my head and rush away from the castle. Though my main objective is to get out as quickly as possible, I'm still cautious enough to keep an eye out for any criminals that could be out and about at this hour.
Luckily, I see no one. Not so luckily, I had to stop quite a few times to rest because of my illness, so dawn is breaking, and I've only just made it out of town. Peasants are starting to come out of their homes, and I'm still out in the open. Fuck!
Not knowing what else to do, I run into the forest as fast as my already tired feet can take me. When I'm certain I can't be seen, I come to a halt, lungs heaving from the abnormal amount of exercise. A wave of vertigo comes over me, forcing me to sit down. I put my back against a tree for a while, just focusing on breathing and rediscovering the difference between up and down.
After several minutes, my thoughts are clear enough for me to consider my situation... I'm not actually sure how to proceed with this shit. I had really banked on being able to leave quicker than that, thus getting out of the kingdom. But now? It has to be at least seven, and there's not a doubt in my mind that they've noticed my disappearing act. So scratch out walking through the village- I'd be caught and taken back to the castle for sure. Going back is obviously not an option. I guess I'll just have to try walking through the forest.
Fucking joy. I'm going to get devoured by wolves rather than die of a blood disease. Maybe, they'll take one bite of me, decide my blood tastes bad, and leave me alone. But if each and every one of them takes a bite before realizing I taste bad... I'd better get going.
Cautiously, I push myself to my feet and make my way deeper into the dense, dark forest. Within fifteen minutes of beginning my trek, I'm already pretty sure I've got blisters on the bottoms of my feet and I'm starting to feel kind'a lightheaded.
Nonetheless, I trek forward. I have to at least find shelter before stopping. So I walk and walk and walk and walk until I'm absolutely certain that past me was being a fucking moron for even thinking I could do this. God damn it I'm so lost. At this point, I'm so deep in the forest that I wouldn't know where to begin with getting out.
I stop, unable to continue. I lean up against a mossy tree. I yelp, falling backwards. A sharp pain hits the nape of my neck when I hit the ground. I sit up bewildered and pissed off. Stupid fucking nature.
I rub my neck, and look around. I fell... Through the tree? I climb to my feet, nearly tripping over the same fucking rock I fell on. I'm in a grove of some sort. Moss and vines are covering everything. Gnarly tree roots stick up out of the ground like out reached hands hoping to drag me below. The grass is grown above my waist, nearing my shoulders. The perfect place for a game of hide and seek. The center of it all is an enormous stone tower. It is just as covered with moss as everything else. Craning my neck upwards, I see that a ring of fog surrounds it, putting the highest point out of sight from my vantage. All in all, the place looks completely untouched.
I circle the base of the tower looking for a door, but find none. Frowning, I circle it again to find the same results. There has to be a way in. Could there be a secret entrance? I go around once more much more slowly, searching and exploring every single crack and imperfection. I claw at one crack; nothing. I push at a place where the wall appears to be crumbling; nothing.
Frustrated, I kick the tower, immediately regretting the throbbing pain in my foot. I growl out curses at the damned thing- and then stop when I realize the stones are moving. I further examine the door before proceeding inside. I had kicked in a slightly off-colored stone.
I step inside the ancient structure to find the dull gray stone continues to the inside. A spiral staircase goes up, up, and up all the way to a ceiling where a wooden panel resides. Ugh. I was looking for a place to rest, not this shit. I climb up the plethora of stairs, grumbling complaints as I go. Why must there be so many motherfucking stairs? This is literally the shittiest most dysfunctional design I've ever seen.
Once I reach the last stair, I push up on the panel, and climb up into a large loft. The walls have beautiful murals of flowers, stars, and people painted over the otherwise unadorned stones. An aclove takes up a decent portion of the far wall. It has one large floor-to-ceiling window with a bench. Next to the aclove is an empty bookcase, and (fuck yes) an enormous, plush, canopy bed.
I walk over to the pink bed and plop down. I've never been so happy to see a bed in my entire life. I quickly fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.
. . .
I awake to a steady thumping noise. Wearily, I lay in the bed, listening. The thump continues, merely growing louder. Damn it. Could it be the owner of this tower? I quickly sit up with that thought- and immediately become dizzy. I lay back down, the world spinning before my eyes. I shut them, but that simply worsens the feeling of motion. I reopen them. I try to sit up again. I'm somewhat more successful this time. I remain upright...
Never mind. I lean over the side of the bed and hurl. What a lovely way to wake up. Having gotten over my nausea, I sit back up and ever so carefully step over the mixture of blood and mostly digested food.
I walk to the window to see what the noise is. Outside is literally a knight in shining fucking armor. The knight has a purple plume so I know they're not from Prospit.
I lean out the window, watching to see what they'll do. For the next twenty minutes, they examine the base of the tower. Ha. Fucking moron. After another five minutes, I lose interest in the idiot trying to get in.
I look further into the loft to find a small bathroom and a kitchen. Nothing too special or fancy. I take a rag from underneath the sink to clean up the mess I made. Disgusting. I throw the rag into the bathroom trash.
Aimlessly, I wander around the loft. I find moldy bread, several warped pots and pans, a handful of lost, dirty paintbrushes, two hair brushes (still filled with ridiculously long blonde hair), and 792 multi-colored bobby pins. Other than that and the ornate furniture, the place is empty- as if it were abandoned.
The scraping noise of metal against rock sounds through the tower. I fling myself at the window with the intentions of calling out this fucker from Who-The-Fuck-Cares-Ville on being a piece of shit. I lean dangerously far out of the window.
The knight has now got his sword, a really shitty looking sword at that, jammed between the stones.
"Hey! Fucktard!" I yell. Can he even see me?
He looks around- left, right, behind. When he doesn't see the source of the hullabaloo (yours truly), he cautiously goes back to what he was doing. He gives his sword a swift tug, but it doesn't budge. I rest my head on my hand. This should be a riot. Sadly, his helmet is still on, covering his face. (I've decided it has to be a man or else they woud've been smart enough to not stick their sword into a motherfucking stone tower.)
I return my thoughts to the presence. The knight is now attempting to stand on top of the sword. Who the fuck even does that? I lean further out the window to get a better view of this moron.
He reaches up as high as he can, then jumps, desperately trying to cling to the sides of the tower. Of course, he fails miserably. He slides down, wrapping his arms around the tower. His legs don't even make it halfway around the base. I find myself snorting with laughter despite myself. He wildly looks in all directions- except up. This guy.
He desperately scrambles up, hardly maintaining his current altitude much less gaining any. He's coming dangerously close to sitting on the sharp side of his sword. I suddenly find myself wondering if his armor protects his crotch. Judging off of his silent, but no less desperate struggle, I would guess it doesn't.
I sigh. Clearly, this moron is either gonna figure out how to get in or he's gonna die trying. I may as well just let him in. I grab a blanket from the bed and wrap it around my shoulders; it's kind of cold outside. I nearly trip on it going down the millions of stairs, but whatever. The warmth is well worth the near-death experience.
I open the secret door (it has a much more convenient knob on the inside), and step outside. The fellow looks even more ridiculous from this angle, arms and legs spread wide, metal encased fingers attempting to claw into the stone. I creep up behind him, snickering under my breath. This is too fucking easy.
I snarl out in the deepest, most menacing voice I can manage, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
He squeals out in the most high-pitched, girly voice I've ever heard. He jumps off the building, swirling to face me. He fumbles to pull his sword from his sheath only to remember it's still stuck in the side of the tower. This is too fucking much! I laugh whole heartedly, something I hadn't done in quite some time.
Once he realizes his mistake, he snaps into a salute, then bows. "Shit. M'lady. My bad I totally did not see ya there. You were like-"
"Wait one fucking minute." I interrupt. "M'lady? Do you have any idea who you're talking to, you ignorant douche muffin?"
He stares at me, or at least it seems like he does. He removes his helmet to reveal a head of perfectly manicured, platinum blonde hair and an oversized pair of glasses. His porcelain-like skin is littered with countless freckles. He doesn't actually look like he could be much older than me, if at all. He's got a somewhat boyish face, without the slightest hint of a beard or mustache and his legs and arms are disproportionately long. Basically, he's six feet of damn good looking.
I force myself to frown. Can't be letting this guy imagine that I could have an inkling of anything other disgust and hatred for him. He called me his lady. Hell. Fucking. No.
He looks me over for just a bit longer than I had sized him up.
"I s'pose you're not the princess." I have to strain to make out what he's saying because of the thickness of his accent.
"Do I look like a princess to you?" I ask. Does this guy have eyes behind those lame ass glasses or is he blind?
He looks me over once more for all of two seconds. "Well, you're wearin' a pretty girly outfit, and you've got a hot pink blanket with butterflies wrapped 'round your shoulders. Not to mention, you've got really thick eyelashes, like you're wearin' make up or some shit. Can't imagine why the fuck you'd bother wearing make up if you live out in the middle a nowhere, but you know whatever floats your boat. And really it's for the best that your boat floats cuz we're goin' on a boat. By the way, in case you hadn't figured it out, I'm rescuin' you, and taking you back to my place. It'll be sweet as fuck. We can feast on apple juice and Doritos on our way there. Maybe we could even throw some down for the sharks."
Once he's finally said all he wanted to say, I jump in. "Okay. First of all, fuck you. I am not a girl. Honestly, are you blind or are those stupid glasses melting into your eye sockets? Clearly, I'm a guy, and my clothes are not even slightly girly. I'm not even wearing any motherfucking make up. For that matter, I don't even have any. There's nothing abnormal about my eyelashes, you moronic piece of shit. I don't even like apple juice, and I definitely don't like sharks, so you best just pack up your tin foil stick [I gesture towards his sword] and go back to where you came from."
"Ouch. Low blow, babe. This here is the best shitty sword you've ever seen. [He gestures towards his sword] I've been through thick and thin with Irony. I can hardly even imagine not liking apple juice of all the glorious liquids in the world, but I guess we could get you something different along the way to the ship. I'll introduce you to the sharks. You'll like 'em by the end of the trip."
"No. You're not fucking getting it. I'm not your princess. I'm not your 'babe', I don't give a fuck about your feast, and I sure as hell am not going ANYWHERE with you. Just leave me the fuck alone!"
"If you're not the princess, then what are you doin' hangin' 'round here?"
For a moment, I consider telling him. I could really use someone to talk to. Then again, even though he's not a Prospit knight, he could still decide to return me to the castle. You never know with strangers. Best to play it safe.
"None of your business."
He doesn't say anything for a bit, and God is it confusing as fuck. Because of his glasses, you really can't tell jack shit about what's on his mind until he spews it out. It makes me want to rip them right off his face.
"How long have you been here?" He inquires at length.
"Still none of your goddamn business." I cross my arms, and shift my weight to one leg, quickly losing my patience.
"Why are you here?" He asks without hesitation.
"Why are you here?"
"I was sent on a quest to save some nameless princess at this tower. Now that I know she ain't here, I don't really know."
I roll my eyes. "Then why don't you just go back?"
He frowns for half a second before returning to a neutral expression. "I've been exiled. Bringing her back was supposed to prove my loyalty or some stupid shit like that. So There isn't really anywhere to go back to."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
We both stand without really knowing what to say. In the awkward silence, my conscience starts to gnaw at the edges of my mind. He's gonna be all on his own in a land he's not familiar with. He probably doesn't have any Prospitian currency so he won't even be able to buy himself food. Hell, with how thick this forest is, he might not ever even make it out alive.
I sigh and carefully examine my nails, picking out the dirt. "Well, obviously, I don't actually own this shithole, but do you want to come in or whatever?"
He looks... relieved? I still can't really tell with those fucking sunglasses.
"That'd be sweet." He starts for the door, then stops and turns back to look at me. "So... What's your name, princess?"
Reaching the top of the staircase, I turn around and give him the best evil glare I can. "Karkat, and I'm a prince, not a fucking princess."
He raises a brow. "Seriously?"
"Yeah," I cross my arms. "So what ?"
"Like the prince of Prospit?"
"Obviously."
He scrutinizes me, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "You're lyin'. The youngest prince o' Prospit's s'pposed t'be 'round my age."
I scowl. "What the fuck do you mean by that, punk?"
"That you're short as fuck." A mischievous grin splits over his face.
"I am not! You're just freakishly tall, dickhead."
"Kitkat, you're, like, less than five feet tall."
"I'm 5'2". Don't make me change my mind about letting your dumb ass in."
"Just admit it: you totally dig my 'dumb ass'." His grin grows wider.
I sputter, my face lighting up with embarrassment. I search for some kind of comeback, but can't really think of a decent one. I throw a measly "fuck you" behind me before storming inside. I hear his laughter from behind me, despite his attempts to contain it. I go up through the trap door, and slam it back into place.
Muffled by the wood, I hear his half-hearted pleas, crippled by his stupid laughter. "Aw, come on. Don't be like that."
He starts to push up on the trap door, but I sit down on it, cross-legged. "Go fuck a cactus."
He pushes up on the door, lightly several times, pushing me an inch or so upwards. "Stop that!"
I cling to the handle, feeling as though I'm going to fall off. With one last push, I'm going way higher than an inch. I carefully look over the edge of the slate of wood to see that the cocky asshole is holding me up on one hand like a waiter carrying a platter.
"Put me the fuck down!" I yell right in his face.
The POS doesn't even flinch. "Nah," He lowers the door, picking me off,with one hand, and discarding it with the other. "I'd rather carry you. Honestly, you're so fuckin' light. It's like carryin' a kitten."
I cling to his neck for fear of him dropping me. "I hate you so fucking much right now."
"You're too fuckin' adorable."
"I am not." I pout. "Put me down."
"Hmm... Nah." He then starts to explore the loft, still refusing to put me down. He peers into the mostly empty kitchen. "How long have you been here?"
"I don't know. A few hours?"
"So, you don't actually live here or anythin'?"
"I might. I don't really know what I'm doing yet." I glare at him suspicion starting to creep in. "What's it to ya?"
"Well, I'm guessing you've run away for whatever reason. So, you probably ain't goin' back to the palace. Obviously I ain't goin' back to Derse. So. I was just thinkin'. I mean if you want to that is, um-"
"What?" I ask, confused.
"We could take off. I've got a boat, and we don't have to go to Derse or anythin'. We could go anywhere we wanna go. It'd be fuckin' awesome." He says, seemingly envisioning it in his mind. He comes out of his daydream, and clears his throat. "O' course, you don't gotta do nuthin', but..." He puts me down on my feet and shrugs. "If you wanna."
"And how the fuck do I know you're not just gonna drag my ass back to the palace?" I question.
"I won't. Pinky promise." The much taller boy daintily sticks out his pinky.
I squint my eyes at him, as if that'd make it easier to see if he's lying. Of course that doesn't help at all.
"Take off those fucking glasses. I can't tell if you're telling the truth or not with the craptastic plastic in the way."
"Yeah, no. Imma keep 'em on."
"Then I'm not going with you." I turn around arms crossed. I start counting in my head: One... Two... Thr-
"A'ight," I spin around to face him, maybe a bit too proud of myself. He shifts from one foot to the other. "Just don't be an ass 'bout it, 'kay?"
"Okay,"
"Pinky promise?"
"God, what the fuck is it with you and pinky promises? How old are you? Three?"
"Whatever, man. I could totally go on a badass trip 'round the world without you. I hear the clouds in Skai are gorgeous. Maybe I'll go check that out first... Yeah, then I'll go to Alternia. Man, I've got a bitch tits friend over there, Terezi. I could take her instead o' you." And with that he turns to stride confidently out the door.
I don't know what it is that possesses me, but I feel I can't just let him leave. Maybe it's the desire to do something with my supposedly short life, maybe it's curiosity about the world outside Prospit. Maybe it's just jealousy over this Terezi character, though why I'd be jealous of her is hard to pinpoint. It's not like I have a claim to this knight. Hell, now that I think about it, I never even asked what his name was. But in a sense I want to have a claim over him. Ugh that sounds so fucking pathetic. Whatever. I guess it doesn't really matter why.
Regardless of the reason, I grab his hand, vaguely panicked at the thought of him leaving me alone. "Wait!" He turns around, a clearly expectant look on his halfway covered face. "Pinky promise." I say, holding up my pinky.
He silently stares me down (God, I fucking hate it when he does that) as if waiting for something.
Whatever it is he was expecting must never come, because he gingerly removes the glasses from his face as if they're something precious. Though he's taken off the shades, his eyes are still closed.
I frown. "Come on," I poke him in the tum. "I don't bite. Just open your goddamn eyes."
And he does. Bright Crimson eyes stare down at me shyly. It's like there's rubies embedded into his skull. Why the fuck would you cover something as beautiful as that up?
I must have voiced my opinion aloud without meaning to because he's got the strangest expression I've ever seen (It feels like I could see straight through his eyes to his soul with the glasses gone). He seems to be caught somewhere between confusion and disbelief.
"You are talkin' to me... Right?"
It suddenly hits me over the head how stupid it was to say something like that. You don't just say shit like that to people! Nonetheless, it's too late to go back on it now. Besides, it's true anyways.
So, I try to just shrug it off for minimal embarrassment. "Yeah, so you promise then?"
Confusion. Processing. Realization. I can see it all on his face as if he said it aloud. "Oh. Yeah. Pinky promise. I ain't turnin' you in to your old man."
"Then I guess I could go with your dumb ass... Assuming you haven't changed your mind and decided to pick up this Terezi chick."
"Nah, I was just messin' witcha. I ain't seen Terezi since I was seven, and i di'n't even like 'er."
"Oh. Okay." It's completely unjustified, but I'm more than relieved. "Hey, what's your name, asshole?"
"Sir David Elizabeth Strider, but you can just call me Dave."
"Okay then," A suppressed smile starts to bubble up. "Lizzie."
He rolls his eyes. "Wow. What an original comedian. Someone get this guy a motherfuckin' mic, cuz he's goin' places."
"Thank you, thank you." I take a mock bow.
He rolls his eyes once more before going to put the glasses back on.
"Hey, wait." I say. He glances up, and gives me a questioning look. "You should keep the glasses off. Your eyes really are fucking pretty."
He just stares at me, but now I know what's going on his mind when he does that: everything. Confusion. Recognition. Suspicion. Processing. Worry. Denial. Uncertainty. Before, I had hated not knowing where his head was. Now, it feels as though I'm intruding by being here. With that thought I decide to step out of the room. Right as I'm about to step down onto the staircase, I see him pocket his glasses.
He turns to me, and playfully asks. "Now, where the fuck are you goin'?"
"I'm going to Skai. You coming, Dave, or are you gonna stand there and gape at the wall all day?"
"Oh? Do you suddenly have the capability to find my boat and sail her across the sea without me and whatever you've got in your bag there?" He gestures to the knapsack I had abandoned at the foot of the bed hours before.
Before I can even move to retrieve it, he's thrown it over his shoulder. "A'ight. Le's go."
"I can carry my own damn bag" I say as he approaches.
"Oh, really? Funny cuz I can carry your own damn bag as well."
"Dumbass." I step down, and descend the plethora of steps, knowing I wouldn't win this argument whether I tried or not. He's only a couple steps behind me. Once we reach the bottom, he trails around to the back of the tower where his horse is tied to a large, gnarled root.
He unties the horse, and introduces him to me as Sassacre. After greeting him, Dave helps me up onto him, attaches my small bag to the saddle, and climbs on himself.
"Hold on," he says. I link my arms around his waist, and we're off to our first adventure.
My name is Karkat Vantas. I still have a rare blood disease, and I'm still not sure where exactly I'm going to end up or what I'm going to do when I get there, but at least I know I'll have a boy with ruby red eyes to keep me company, wherever we go, whatever we do.
I think I said this would be a somewhat quick update at the top? Obviously that didn't happen. But I also didn't expect this to turn into a five thousand word one shot, so *shrug* Karkalicious769 is my special person who deserves many glomps and digital cookies.
