Chapter Twenty-Five
Possible trigger warning: Thoughts of suicide.
Thanks to demonwindy for reviewing.
= Be Rose Lalonde
You are Rose Lalonde.
You are currently resting on the shore of a rainbow ocean, lounging on one of the many beaches on LOLAR. Any minute now, Kanaya should get in touch with you and relay the location of your quest bed. Then you and your travel companions will head there.
And then you will kill yourself.
That's the plan at least. Stated in the most basic and straightforward manner possible. Sugarcoating your inevitable demise will only delay the process at which you come to terms with your fate. It's best, in your opinion, to face the challenge head on, combating whatever seeds of doubt surface as they appear. Namely, what if this plan doesn't work?
You've been wrong about game mechanics before, with disastrous results. What if this is no different? What if you die, but do not resurrect? What if you perish for good?
"Well then that would be it for you." Is the simple answer. You'd be dead and it would be up to John and everyone else to save your mother, along with the rest of your universe. Their likelihood for success would most likely decease, of course, but then again you wouldn't have to worry about screwing anything up again.
You would be released from these earthy bonds, embraced by the cold tendrils of death, and… set free. Would the Horrorterrors still plague you in death? It seems unlikely, since you don't remember their influence whilst you lay slain by the hand of Jack Noir, although that may have been due to your proximity to John. Another question on a long list of questions, which buzz around in your head like a hive full of disgruntled bees.
How does your best friend fit into all of this? You wonder. Could it be a side effect of his windy powers, the ability to literally blow away the evil incidence of elder beasts? You don't know and you aren't about to ask him about it. You've gotten enough concerned glances and comments already today without bringing up the presence of demonic voices in your head.
As you lean back in the sand, feeling the heat of two suns caressing your face, you think about death, escape, John, your mother, Horrorterrors, and Kanaya. Predominately though, you think about your last conversation with the female troll before your departure. Remembering her nervous smile, the perfect swoops of her hair, the immaculate fangs protruding from her upper lip to glimmer in the daylight. She really was an exquisite creature, whose physical appearance was only rivaled by her intellectual endowment.
"What are you thinking about?" John's voice rouses you from your thoughts.
"Hmmm." You hum in response, buying time. "Just plotting my next foray into the world of literary works. I'm thinking of writing a book, if you must know."
"Really?"
"Yes."
You turn head to face him. He's sitting cross-legged by your side, a look of sincere curiosity directed towards you.
"You're sure that you're not thinking of anything else?" He asks.
You blow a stubborn strand of hair out of your eyes.
"Positive." You say plainly. "Why? Do I look as if my mind is otherwise occupied?"
"You're forehead is winkled up like an accordion." He grins, poking you firmly between the eyes. When did he get so close? "That only happens when you're having a hardcore philosophy jam inside your head."
You frown, disappointed that he's picked up on an apparent tell that you've been unaware of until now. It seems that your usual calm, stoicism has been jeopardized as of late. Not a hard idea to fathom, considering the trials you've endured up to this point.
You debate whether or not to admit to John what you were thinking. Not the garbage about Kanaya, but your thoughts on death and peace and escape. If anyone were to know anything about the afterlife, it'd probably be him. He's died the most out of anyone.
"Can I pick your brain for a moment?" You ask.
"Sure."
You flop backwards onto the sand and after a second he joins you. The pair of you look up through half-lidded eyes towards the bright sky.
"Do you remember anything about death?"
"What do you mean?"
"Like, what was it like to die?"
He exhales heavily, thinking.
"I dunno really." He pauses. "Why are you asking? I mean, you died too, right? On Jack Noir's castle."
"You're correct. I have indeed experienced death and resurrection." You roll gently onto your side to set your eyes on him. "But it was almost like a dream, since the Horrorterrors were clouding my thoughts. I was conscious one second and then conscious another. I remember being stabbed and then you waking me up. It was like anesthesia, artificial sleep that erased all thoughts in between life and death from my memory."
John's lying with his head resting upon his laced fingers. His head flops over to the side and your gazes meet.
"You're nervous about dying, huh?"
"Not exactly, just curious." You admit. "Were you… afraid? Or was it just peaceful. Or…"
"If you're asking if there's an afterlife, then…" He chews his lip. "I don't think there is one. I mean, you can believe whatever you want, but when I was dead everything was just black."
"Black?"
"Yup, there was nothing." He swallows hard and looks back towards the sky. "I don't want you to be afraid, but honestly I don't think dying is really ever going to be a pleasant experience. At least compared to being alive. When I died, there was just nothing, no light, or time, or space, or anything. It was just me."
"Oblivion." You mutter to yourself.
"Yeah, I guess." He hears you.
"Is that what Vriska is going through right now?" The second the words are out of your mouth, you regret them.
John stiffens in the sand and for a moment, you're afraid that he might lash out at you. What a stupid thing to ask. Of course he's worried about his Matesprit, and the idea of her floating in eternity isn't going to put his mind at ease.
"I don't know." He says quietly. "Last time I saw her she was in my dream house or whatever. She seemed… fine, I suppose. I just don't know. I guess anything could have happened since the last time I saw her."
"I'm sure she's fine." You're quick to placate him.
"Mhmm." He appears to be only vaguely aware of what you've just said. "I just wonder sometimes, you know? Like if she won't be there when I finally get the ring, or that she'll be really dead when I get there, or maybe so much time would have passed that she…" He pauses again. "That she might not even give a shit about me at all."
He's being really open to you right now about his insecurities. So much so, that you feel like a shitty person for wanting to keep yours hidden from him.
"I don't belive that for one second." You say, reaching out to find pat his arm. "I think that right now you're Vriska's only hope of coming back to life. She won't forget about that. She won't ever forget what you're doing for her."
He looks at you again, his face still twisted with a frown.
"Yeah." He sighs and changes the conversation rather quickly. Or, more accurately, redirects it back towards its original trajectory. "So you're thinking that everything would be easier if you were dead, right?"
"I'd be lying if I said the thought didn't cross my mind." You answer honestly, surprised by his perceptiveness. Yet more proof that you're not really all that of a mystery to John. That you never really have been.
"Well then listen to me right now." He rolls over so that you're now both facing each other. "Take it from someone who's spent a lot of time dead: It sucks. Like, a lot."
You can't help the smile that tugs at your lips, watching him lie in the sand and grin at you.
"I'll remember that." You say, feeling quite light for the moment.
"You better." He reaches forward and pokes you between the eyes again, causing you to realize how stressed your forehead had become again. "Trust me, Rose. You don't need to worry about this quest bed stuff. Everything will be okay."
"Alright. I trust you." Because if you can't trust him, then you really can't trust anyone else.
A soft beep in your ear informs you that you've just received a call. You tap a slender finger on your headband and the lens flicks out over your right eye.
"Hello?" You answer."
"Rose, it's Kanaya." Replies a lyrical voice. "I, um… How are you?"
You smirk, while John looks on quizzically. He mouths 'who is it?' and you respond 'Kanaya'. The female troll is going to have to learn to not be so awkward around you in the future, if she does truly wish to spend more time with you that is. Until the day where she grows more comfortable though, your endure her incredibly endearing unease.
"I'm well." You chuckle. "And yourself?"
"Oh." She seems surprised that you understand common conversational etiquette. "I'm… also well."
You wait for her to continue, growing more and more amused with every passing second in which you spend in silence.
"Kanaya?"
"Yes! Yes, what is it?"
"I assume there is a reason for this call."
"Oh, of course. I have a location for your quest bed."
"Ah," You sit upright and give John a thumbs up. "Alright, where is it?"
"About ninety meters north of your location and one hundred and forty meters straight down."
You blink, look northward, and frown.
"So you're… saying that it's- underwater?" You speak slowly, deliberately so that you won't have to repeat yourself.
"Oh," Kanaya puffs for the third time, her voice rather high pitched and breathy. "There's water there? Sorry, the viewfinder installed on this husktop is rather outdated. It's barely giving me an image at all."
"But you're certain that you have the location of my quest bed correct."
You look to John. He's listening enraptured to fifty percent of your conversation. He appears to have gotten the gist of it though and he looks more puzzled and concerned than unhappy with Kanaya's results. You can tell that he's already thinking of a way to get your little party down to the bottom of the rainbow tinted ocean.
"Most definitely, what this program lacks in elegance it most certainly makes up in accuracy. Your quest bed should be exactly where I specified."
"Well I guess one thing that comes from this is that I won't have to worry about stabbing myself or something equally barbaric. I can simply down myself on my quest bed."
Kanaya is silent for a moment.
"I, uh… that was a joke." You add quickly.
"I see. Haha." Her laugh is an octave higher than her regular voice and obviously forced. Maybe you also have much to learn when it comes to social interaction. Even with all of your psychology textbooks, you still have a great capacity for 'foot into mouth' interaction.
You sigh.
"I'll see you soon, Kanaya."
"Likewise," She responds. "We're heading back to recollect team one as we speak. Be ready at the pick-up location in… I'd say about forty-five minutes."
"That's quick." You comment. In a way, it's probably for the best that your death will be under a time crunch, less chance that you'll get cold feet. "We'll be there."
You hang up after a quick salutation, sparing yourself and Kanaya from any more opportunities to reenact more cliché adolescent inelegance (a word you'd never thought you would have associated with Kanaya).
"Was that Kanaya?" It's Equius, stomping across the sand towards you. "Do we know where we're going yet?"
"Yes, it was her." You stand up, brushing loose sand from your skirt. "How does the perimeter look?"
"Not a soul in sight, no imps or anything. Not even those little turtle creatures." He says.
"Your consorts are gone?" John asks. "Where'd they go? Why would they leave?"
"I'd assume they left for the same reason that we must ultimately all come. Jack Noir has set up shop here for the time being." You answer. "And as for the 'where', I have no idea. Hopefully somewhere where they'll be safe."
"Would Jack Noir have, I don't know, rounded them up? Or something?" John looks worried. He's probably imagining a hundred different ways that Jack Noir could prepare LOLAR turtle soup.
"Doubtful." You're unsure yourself, but you change the subject. "It appears that my quest bed is at the bottom of the ocean." You nod your head towards the sea behind you."We'll have to descend to reach it."
Immediately Equius looks unpleased at this news. He wipes a layer of sweet off of his brow.
"I'll admane… I mean, I'll admit," He shifts nervously. "I don't do well with water."
"What does that mean?" John asks. "You can't swim? That's alright, buddy. I'll just fly us down there, no problem."
You stomach performs a practiced somersault at the prospect of more flying, but really what had you expected? John will leap at any chance to stretch his metaphorical wings. You're not looking forward to bursting his bubble by refusing his offer.
"No. It isn't that. It's just." Equius seems to be struggling with his words.
He's afraid. You can see all the signs easily missed by others, namely John. He's afraid, and he's hesitant to admit it.
"We'll need you on the shore to keep watch." You say firmly. "John and I will go down and return shortly. Be ready to move though when we arrive. We'll only have minutes to reach our rendezvous point by then."
"Yes, good plan." Equius nods quickly. "I shall be the best lookout ever. Of all time."
He stomps away again towards a nearby sand dune without another word, leaving you and John alone on the beach. It's for the best, you decide. You'd rather have Equius being useless on the surface than panicking underwater. You're going to have a hard enough time keeping your own panic levels under control as it is.
"Is it a good idea to leave him up here by himself?" John asks, indicating Equius's receding figure.
"He'll be fine. This will only take a few minutes." You kneel down and begin untying your shoelaces. "I expect that you'll be able to supply us with some breathable air, yes?"
"Yeah, totally." You don't have to look at John to know he's grinning, definitely excited to be using his windy powers again. "That won't be a problem at all. I've actually been wondering whether or not I even need to breathe at all since… Wh- what are you doing?"
You've just begun tugging your sweater up and over your head.
"Insuring that my only set of functional clothes aren't completely ruined." You can't fight the smirk that tugs at your lips. "Don't be silly, John. It's just underwear."
He turns away, face burning, when you stoop low again to fold your clothes onto a neat pile atop your sneakers. As an afterthought, you retrieve your needle wands from your skirt's pocket and tuck them away safely in your bra. You don't know what might be at the bottom of the ocean, so it's best to come prepared with your weapons.
You straighten up, hands on your hips.
"Well?" You ask.
"Well what?" He shoots back, still not looking at you.
"Are you really going to leave me alone, isolated on a symbolic island of near indecent nudity?"
"I'm not stripping for you." He replies crossing his arms.
"It's not stripping, John. It's just irrational to get your clothes wet when it's dubious as to when you'll receive any new ones."
"It's just water, it's not like we're swimming in sewage."
You wrinkle your nose at the thought. Maybe he's right? Maybe you were a little too quick to slim down to your knickers, and have thus made it awkward? You don't know. It seemed like a good idea at the time. You don't know why he's acting so nervous, considering that you probably have about as much sex appeal as a dead, dried up, rotting house plant.
Before you can say anything else though, John speaks once more.
"Screw it." He starts unbuttoning his shirt and kicking out of his shoes. "Just… turn around or something, okay?"
You roll your eyes and turn away.
"Oh come on, John. There's no reason to be bashful. You and I are a couple of professional heroes after all." He snorts from behind you, but you continue. "I mean, you're like a brother to me." He snorts again, louder and harder. You turn to face him. "It's not as if- aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh."
Your jaw hangs open and a low tone escapes from your throat like a sour note from the strings of a poorly tuned violin. John is built and all of the sudden you feel very subconscious, standing there in your modest under things.
"Is… er, everything okay?" He asks, halfway though unbuckling his belt.
You mouth shuts with a sharp clack off teeth against teeth. The dull, stretched out note emanating from your mouth goes silent and you just nod like a mindless bobble head. Why couldn't Dave have accompanied you on this trip? Sure his skills would have been near useless when trying to reach the bottom of the ocean, but at least you could have had a nice laugh at whatever snazzy briefs he was wearing.
With John though… there are too many conflicting emotions and old, childhood fantasies. You shake your head, forcing yourself to think of Kanaya. Prim, concise, elegant Kanaya, with her long flowing skirts and sculpted hair and OH MY GOD ARE THOSE LITTLE GHOST SLIMES?
John shivers in his signature boxers, looking for all the world like the most adorable dweeb in the universe. He could have been a footballer in another life, or maybe a medieval knight who gallivanted across the grassy knolls, slaying evil wizards and laying comely maidens.
You think you've just gotten inspiration for a second book, possibly a sequel to one which you've already plotted out quite extensively.
"Are we doing this or not?" John's rather snippy right now, isn't he?
"Yes, of course." You muster all of your professionalism and lead the way towards the water. It's fairly warm on your toes, a little like bath water. That's good in your opinion, since you're not much a fan of the cold.
John wades in next to you, causing quite a lot of disturbance as he trundles through the shallow.
"So just stay where I can see you and we should be fine." He says. "What, uh… are you going to do when, you know… when we get down there?"
"I was thinking I'd just drown myself." You respond evenly, automatically, like a robot.
"Oh."
"Yes. Oh, indeed."
He rubs the back of his neck in that awkward way of his.
"Do you want me to fly us down there?"
"No. I think I'll swim if it's all the same to you." There's no point in doing something you dislike, like flying (even if it is underwater), before doing something you'd usually want to avoid, such as dying.
"Sure, whatever you want." He says without argument.
With a deep breath you submerge yourself. The water closes around your head, but your force your eyes to remain open. You expect to feel the warm water rush for your nose and mouth, hoping to flood your airways before you even reach the bottom. However, the water molds around your head leaving a pocket of air between yourself and the ocean. It's almost as if you're wearing an invisible helmet.
You twist in the water to look at John. He's wearing a similar air hood, looking quite ridiculous, like an astronaut in his underpants. You tap your head set again and he answers on the first ring.
"Pretty cool, huh?" He answers.
"Will we have enough air?"
"Yeah, don't worry." He motions for you to continue forward. If you didn't know any better you'd think that he's almost urging you to hurry up and die.
You start to swim, paddling easily through the water towards your destination. Your mother had enlisted you in swimming lessons, along with other customary activities offered at the youth's center in your town. You'd performed well, as always, learning to move about in the water with easy assurance of your survival. Until now at least.
You decide to think about something besides your mother or death.
"Do you know what this reminds me of?" You say suddenly.
"That one scene in Star Wars Episode One: The Phantom Menace when Qui Gon Jinn and Obi Wan Kenobi swim down to the Gugan City on Naboo to ask for help against the Separatist federation?"
"… No."
"Oh, okay then."
"I was thinking about the second task in the Triwizard Tournament in which Cedric Diggory and Fleur Delacour both try using the Bubble-Head Charm to retrieve their hostages from the bottom of the great lake."
"Nerd."
"Like you're one to talk. At least Harry Potter is good."
"Star Wars is good!"
"No, John." You say. "No, it really isn't."
You hear him mutter something about 'the original trilogy', but you're no longer listening. You've just gotten the first look at your quest bed. That was quick. It's an odd sight against the ghostly pale sand which covers the ocean floor. The bed is a slab of orange rock, with a stylized symbol carved into its face resembling a sun. The whole construct is surrounded by a loose ring of rose-colored coral.
You try to get your breathing under control.
"I suppose…" You drift down to the rock. It's smooth and cool beneath your feet in stark contrast to the water around you. "I suppose that you can take away this helmet now."
There's a long pause, but you don't turn to look at John. You know he's still there and you know what he's thinking.
"You know that you don't have to do this right." He says after a while. "I mean, there's probably some way that we can beat Jack Noir without you having to be God Tier or whatever."
You've thought about it, trying to continue on your quest without making this little detour. However, without whatever God Tier powers going through with this might afford you, it's likely that you'll be more of a liability than an asset. And you are very, very tired of being a liability.
"No. We came here to do this, so we're doing this." You turn to face John, donning your firmest, most effective brave face. "Come on, John. Make this easy on me."
You position yourself, lying flat on your back, looking up towards the streaks of sunlight filtering down from above, and wait to die.
"You look like a princess." John says. "Well, I mean." He coughs. "Like sleeping beauty or something. I don't know. Just pretend I'm not here. Haha."
You reach out and flail your hand until he catches it.
"It'll be fast." You blurt quickly. "Just stay here and make sure that I stay on the bed, okay?"
"Got it. I'll be right here." He rubs a thumb over your knuckles once, twice. "Are you ready?"
"Yeah, yeah I'm ready."
He counts to three and then removes the hood of air from around your head. You don't hold your breath. You close your eyes, and die. Then, for the first time in forever, you feel free.
= Be John Egbert
You are now John Egbert. Which means you've just watched one of your best friends die. You looked away as she went from calm, to calmer, to deadly still.
You think that you might want to throw up.
Thoughts and images flash through your head. A castle spire, a decapitated father, a black monster, and a dead Rose. She'd been just as still then as she was now. So tranquil, so at ease with herself.
You hated it then and you hate it now too, possibly more.
What's worse is that she's wearing nothing but a bra and a pair of panties. Talk about confusing! One second you're worrying about whether or not she was frightened before she died, and then the next you're prying your eyes away from the supple curve of her chest. Your mind and body is a flurry of depression and hormones, culminating in a very confused and slightly turned on John Egbert.
You grip her hand a fraction tighter and turn to examine an odd bit of coral surrounding you. It's a pale pink, almost peach-ish in color, forming a rough circle around Rose's Quest Bed. You watch it shimmer in the light almost like it's moving slowly, undulating like the body of a great worm.
Then the coral ring bucks like a horse and out from the ground rises a long, powerful looking snake-like creature. Rose's Denizen.
"Oh, fucking shit." You breathe. You're nearly certain that a little pee just leaked out of you.
The giant beast twirls in the water, spiraling around you in a giant coil. You can feel the current moving along with it, tugging you and Rose away from the bed. You call upon some of your windy powers to keep you from moving with an anti-current. You have to keep Rose on the bed for however long it takes for her to resurrect.
Maybe if you get lucky, the Denizen won't notice…
"Who disturbs my slumber?!"
Shit.
One end of the snake swivels around to face you. Two small, beady black circles are pointed in your direction and you guess that this is supposed to be the creatures face. Your thoughts are confirmed when a slit beneath the eyes opens, displaying rows upon rows of razor sharp teeth, and the beast speaks again.
"Who are you?!"
"Uh… John?" You answer uncertainly. It's times like these when you wish that you had a cooler name, or at least one that was more… you don't know, heroic.
"What do you want, John? Why are you in my domain?" The giant sea serpent's voice sounds like a thousand steel gears grinding against each other.
"Her Quest Bed is down here." You motion dumbly towards the sill motionless Rose. "We just came to…"
"That is her!" The Denizen interrupts you. "You've brought the Seer here?! Why?! Why would you do that?!"
The monster's voice is tinged with a tone that you peg as disbelief.
"Look, Mr. Denizen sir." You begin. "We're trying to defeat Jack Noir and we need her to be in God Tier to do that, so…"
"I am a woman!" The serpent interrupts you again.
"Wh- what?"
"You called me Mr. Denizen! When I am clearly a member of the female gender!"
"I, uh… er." This is honestly the most uncomfortable encounter you've ever had with a massive sea beast. "I'm- sorry?"
"You come down into realm, wake me from my hibernation, insult me with incorrect suffixes, and all you can say is 'SORRY'?!"
"What do you want from me, lady?! Can't you see that I'm in the middle of something here?!" You raise the hand still clasping Rose's and wave it a few times. You're starting to grow annoyed.
"What do I want from you!?" The Denizen repeats, multitude of teeth flashing. "Isn't it obvious player? I want you to DIE!"
STRIFE!
Like a bolt of lightning, the head of the serpent lunges down straight for you, intent on sucking your into her mouth and ripping you to shreds with those fangs. You were worried that it would come to this. You release Rose's hand and use what air is in the water to propel you downwards, beneath the Denizen. Once you've dodged the attack, your rocket upwards and put as much force as you can behind an uppercut to what you guess is her neck.
The Denizen's head snaps backwards and she somersaults away from you, carried aloft by a windy current of rainbow water.
"Come on, Rose." You speak to your friend as the Denizen recovers. "Come on, come on, come on."
The human girl is still asleep though, pressed against the stone slab, hair floating around her like a golden halo. There's no time to admire your friends natural beauty though, since the Denizen is already launching a counter attack.
You have a decision to make. You can stay here and try to fight the giant snake beast, most likely winding up dead. There isn't much air in the water for you to manipulate and fuck are you an idiot for forgetting your hammer on the beach!
Your second option is to lead the Denizen away from Rose. The monster didn't apparently approve of Rose's ascension into the God Tiers and you don't blame her, since Rose was technically supposed to kill her. However, instead of going after Rose, the snake beast is currently fixated on you. You can lead the Denizen to the beach and then double back for Rose, who would hopefully have resurrected by then.
You go with the second and obviously superior choice, at least in your mind. You turn tail and flee, flying back towards the beach with all the speed you can muster. The hot breath of the Denizen, like boiling water, is on your heels and you would absolutely hate to be killed at this moment, not only because you'd probably be dead for good due to your heroics, but also because there's a chance you might encounter Vriska again dressed in nothing but your underpants.
She's seen you in less, sure, but there's just something about the idea of popping up half naked that makes you think it would be really embarrassing.
All that aside, you're currently pushing yourself to the limit, streaking towards the beach at a high speed. The bubble you created around your head is steadily growing smaller and more warped the faster you go. You don't know how much longer you can keep this up or how much farther the beach is.
What the crap? It was totally not this far away earlier. But then again, there's always something about things that you want that make them seem further away than they actually are. That's a philosophy discussion you'd like to run by Rose later if you're both still alive then.
You end up with a face full of sand as the ocean floor begins to shallow out. You adjust your course, heading upwards and hoping to Jesus or Jegus or whoever exists that the Denizen doesn't catch you.
With an explosion of water and sound, you erupt into open air. You're surprised at how much better fresh air tastes compared to the recycled stuff you were feeding yourself underwater. It causes your head to go light and your world to spin, and before you know it you're skidding across the beach like a hockey puck on ice.
An earth shattering slam behind you reminds you that the Denizen is still giving chase. You bounce over the ground once more and finally roll to a stop.
"Pants." You think quickly. "Find your damn pants!"
You're on your hands and knees, almost to your feet when something very large and very heavy slams into your back. Another mouthful of dirt is forced down your throat as you're slammed into the ground and the air rushes from your lungs. You crane your neck to see that the Denizen is grinning down at you hungrily.
"Riddle me this!" Her voice crackles on dry land like static. "And I might let you live! HAHAHA! What walks on four legs in the morning, two legs in the afternoon, and three…"
"A man." You respond quickly, coughing chalky sand onto the ground.
"A… wh- what?"
"A man." You repeat. "The answer to the riddle is a man."
"What the fuck?!" She roars. "You didn't even let me finish!"
"Oh shit, I'm sorry. I just thought you'd want my answer."
"How did you know it?!"
"It's actually a fairly common riddle." You try to get up, but she's still pinning you. "I've, uh, heard it before. Actually, I think everyone has at some point."
"Jegus." Her mouth twists in frown. "How long have I been asleep?"
"I don't know." You struggle feebly under her mass, and then sigh when you find no escape. "So do you… do you want to ask another one?"
She appears to think for a while.
"Okay. I shall ask you another!" Her horribly simplistic face comes down closer to yours. "What is black and white and read…"
"A newspaper."
"GOG FUCKING DAMMIT! WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!?"
Before you can respond, a loud scream of rage bellows from somewhere over your head. A streak of grey and black flash before your eyes and suddenly the Denizen is no longer coiled above you. There's another monumental crash as she collides with the beach again some distance away from you.
You don't know what saved you, but you're not about to stick around to find out. You push yourself to your feet and instantly wobble back to the ground. Your legs feel like jelly and your spine feels like a bendy straw. Needless to say you're definitely going to have some bruises after this.
A hand wraps around your shoulder and hauls you to your feet. You cry out in surprise.
"Easy there, John. I am here to help."
"Equius! Thank god you're here!"
"I came when I heard the commotion. Is that Rose's Denizen? Where is Rose? What happened to your pants?"
"No time to explain! I gotta get back in the water to find Rose. Can you keep the Denizen busy?"
He looks over towards the writhing monster who is quickly regaining its senses.
"I'll do my best, although I do not think there is much time before we're supposed to meet at the rendezvous point."
"I'll be back as soon as possible. I promise." You pat him on the shoulder and stagger towards the water again.
You can hear the Denizen moving mountains of sand as it starts to writhe once again. Equius had sure given it a good punch, but will he be able to hold it off long enough for you to get back to Rose? You supposed there's only one way to find out.
You're up to your knees in the water again when it happens. Far off, towards the center of the ocean, a geyser of water erupts into the sky. It seems as if the whole world comes to a halt to watch the shaft of water arc towards the sun. As you look on, a lone figure descends from the sky, tearing towards the beach at an impressive speed.
"What the…" You watch in awe as the figure flies over your head and fires a beam of magic directly into the Denizen, right before she was about to reengage Equius.
The enormous sea serpent cracks like a whip and screams before exploding in a shower of grist, which then proceeds to rain down upon you like hail. You're not looking at the burnt crater where the Denizen used to be, or at the heap grist pooling at you feet, you're looking at the figure, who's slowly gliding to the ground right in front of you.
It's a girl, dressed in orange, with a sun on her chest and a fire in her eyes. She clutches needle wands in her hands and wears a smirk of the smuggest mirth on her painted lips.
"Hello, John." Rose winks. "You can close your mouth now."
You shut your jaw with a sharp clack.
"Heh, nice pajamas." You grin.
"Nice boxers."
Bluh bluh, Huge Witch.
Next time on John: Try to Understand! Dave and Jade have a lover's quarrel and Kanaya gets her meat grilled (whatever that means).
Rose's Denizen was kind of a chump bitch, but then again, every fight can't be awesome. Or at least that's my excuse. Fun Fact: almost every fanfic I read in which John's boxers are shown, he's wearing ghostbuster themed pantaloons. It's almost like it's canon, am I right?
Remember: "No matter what anybody tells you, words and ideas can change the world."
Thanks for reading.
- Mike