Disclaimer: Homestuck and its associated characters and concepts belong to Andrew Hussie. I am merely borrowing the man's genius for the sake of my own story idea.
Blake: Enter
Blake sprinted up the stairs for the third time and opened the door to his roof. Making his way to the Totem Lathe, he grabbed a Cruxite Dowel from his Sylladex and slapped it into the Lathe, followed by the pre-punched card. He had abandoned his hat somewhere in his house, and sweat was beading on his forehead as the meteor barreled ever closer. Blake captchalogued the totem once it had been carved, then pulled out his phone.
SS: ok ive got this totem thing
SS: now what
CC: um this walkthrough says you put it on the alchemiter thingy
CC: i think it's that thing with the pedestal i put over there?
SS: yeah your right
SS: shit its gettin hot
CC: how much time is left?
SS: i got no idea
SS: that crux-thingy is downstairs still
SS: but im gonna just keep workin here
Blake placed the totem on the Alchemiter's pedestal. The Alchemiter scanned the totem, and then created a patch of gray cruxite grass.
SS: the fuck am i supposed to do with this
CC: well this walkthrough says their client person got an apple
CC: and they just sort of took a bite of it
CC: maybe eat the grass?
SS: what
SS: no fuck that
SS: ive got a better idea
Blake walked over to the side of his roof and slowly shimmied down the storm drain, landing in his backyard. He opened the shed where the tools for the lawn were kept and captchalogued a weed whacker.
SS: stairs please
Cherry extended a staircase from the ground up to Blake's roof. When Blake had reached the top, heat was already emanating from the ground, and the cruxite grass looked ready to catch fire. Blake quickly pulled out the weed whacker and revved it up. He'd barely cut through half of the purple grass before the bright flash of light temporarily blinded him.
Blake: Be Leslie
Leslie sat at her computer, watching as Matt attacked a few more Imps that had made their way onto his roof. If his skills in combat were any indication, Matt was adapting to the game rather well. Each swing of his sticks threw more and more oil onto the walls of the balcony, creating a demented Rorschach painting, and a steadily growing pile of grist was, well, piling up. Once that wave of Imps had been dealt with, Matt put away his sticks andpulled off his oil-stained suit jacket, tossing it onto the floor unceremoniously.
MH: have a second?
RR: Sure, shoot
MH: aside from your obvious combat experiences and what information we've collected from your sprite, have you noticed anything else that might help in beating this game?
RR: Well, I'm on some whole new planet
RR: Pretty sure the place is called The Land of Gusts and Windmills
RR: Catchy, huh?
MH: indeed
MH: and while it is interesting that the game brought you to a whole new planet
MH: have you learned anything substantial about the game itself?
RR: You see all these Imps, right?
RR: Does it look like I have time for research?
MH: well no
MH: I suppose that task will fall onto my shoulders for now
MH: you continue to bear the mantle of dashingly handsome ruffian
RR: Err…
RR: Does that make you the underappreciated, attractive sidekick or something?
MH: oh Matt, you flatter me
RR: Yeah yeah, whatever
RR: Shit, there's no stopping these Imps
RR: I think I'm just gonna have to head down to my front lawn to deal with this infestation
MH: I see a couple ogres down there
MH: try to be careful
RR: Yes dear
Matt: Deal with this infestation
It would be great to see Matt engage in a huge fight against a large number of Imps and Ogres. We could probably even find some great music to go with it. Unfortunately, we have to move the story along from Leslie's point of view.
Leslie watched as Matt prepared for the next wave of attackers. She looked over their last conversation and a small, wry grin worked its way onto her face. After a long year of trying, Matt was finally responding to her flirtations. Ok, yeah, maybe she didn't make conversation uncomfortable JUST so she could watch him squirm; she was allowed to want to know his actual feelings about her. Her train of thought was interrupted when Pesterchum alerted her to another person contacting her.
avianChivalry [AC] began pestering minervasHandmaid [MH]
AC: Hello Leslie.
AC: Tell me, have you started your session yet?
MH: Matt's in the medium, if that's what you mean. why do you ask?
AC: My sister has been squawking about somedream where a meteor strikes your house.
AC: And now she has taken flight into the forest, leaving me the job of warning you.
MH: I've mentioned that you two should stop living in the woods and start interacting with the rest of the world
AC: Honestly, there is never a moment where I do not have to pick up her slack.
MH: back to the meteor
AC: Oh, yes.
AC: Well she had another of her crazy dreams.
AC: She and that Prospit place she always dreams of. Honestly, I prefer my own dreams.
AC: But I digress. She dreamt that she saw you, standing in front of your house, with a meteor near about to strike.
MH: any other important details?
AC: Nothing you wouldn't already expect from an impending meteor strike. Red skies, trees catching fire spontaneously.
AC: Oh wait, she also said you were holding a kitchen knife, and your hands were covered with blood.
MH: interesting. I suppose I know what I might allocate to my strife specibus
AC: Interesting indeed.
AC: Might I say, you're being a lot more calm about this then I had thought you would.
MH: well I've been thinking
MH: Blake hadn't even installed the game, but a meteor was already headed to his house
MH: so I've been wondering if there isn't a connection between starting the game and the meteors
MH: or if the connection isn't specifically that the game summons the meteors, but rather provides a warning system for the player
AC: A truly interesting theory.
AC: But to be honest, I could not care less. I merely contacted you to give you fair warning about your impending demise, and now since that particular piece of business is taken care of, I have many other, more important, matters to attend too.
AC: Best of luck Leslie, but I am afraid I do have to fly.
avianChivalry [AC] ceased pestering minervasHandmaid [MH]
Ok, Leslie thought, maybe Matt was right about that guy. But this wasn't the time for thinking about her opinions of her friends. Now was the time to find a server player to get her in the game. Matt and Cherry were automatically out, since one was already someone else's server player and the other lost their server copy. That left Blake andthe two forest-dwelling twins.
Leslie: Pester Blake
minervasHandmaid [MH] began pestering shutterbugSlick [SS]
MH: Blake, please tell me you've made it into the medium alright
SS: hey les
SS: shit yeah im alright
SS: im on like some whole new world
SS: shit looks so motherfucking chill
MH: wait, would this world consist of a mountainous landscape dotted with windmills?
SS: uh negatory
SS: from what im seeing its like im in some giant bubble
SS: under the ocean
MH: really? Matt got transported to a very different kind of planet
MH: one which seems to be based upon the element of wind
SS: maybe the game does that on purpose
SS: like itd be to easy for all of us to be together on one planet so the games all like
SS: bitches youll each get a planet and youll all damn well like it
SS: you wanna see each other discover space travel
MH: that actually seems very likely
MH: though the planets might serve a bigger purpose than separating players
MH: it's also probably intended for us to meet up, but after we've leveled significantly on our own planets.
MH: but we can discuss this later
MH: do you have your client disk on you? and are you in a position to install and play it?
SS: yeah
SS: why you need to get started
MH: I was recently informed a meteor would be headed for my house
MH: so I thought it'd be a good idea for me to start playing
SS: well alright let me get this shit set the hell up
Leslie heard her front door open, then close seconds after. This meant Father was home, and she again thought of ways to grow closer to her guardian.
MH: go ahead and install the server copy and connect to me
MH: I need to go talk to Father. I'll be right back
Leslie slid the client copy of SBURB into her computer then turned and headed for the door. She was halfway down the stairs when she saw Father, dirty jeans and t-shirt and all, sitting on the couch. He had taken off his hard hat and steel toe boots, setting them neatly on the floor. He looked thoroughly exhausted.
"Hello Father" Leslie said, standing next to the couch with her hands behind her back. Father only looked her way and offered a slight nod and small smile. Typical, Leslie thought, Father may as well have not had a face for all the emotion he usually showed. Still, she was determined to try to strengthen their relationship, especially with the end of the world nearly upon them.
She was about to ask him about work when a sharp knock sounded from outside the door. In a flash Father was up from the couch and looking through the peephole before pulling the door open. On the doorstep stood a wiry man in a clean pressed suit, his jet black hair slicked back with gel. His face looked no over thirty, but his eyes appeared much older. His whole presence gave Leslie an uneasy feeling; there was something shifty about this man.
"Sal" Father said simply.
"Joel" the man replied, "Mind if I come in?"
Father nodded, but there was a few seconds of pause before he actually moved away from the door. Sal strolled inside and observed the inside of the house with an unreadable eye. He finally settled his gaze on Leslie.
"You must be Joel here's daughter. He's mentioned his little artist quite a few times."
Leslie nodded silently. Father had mentioned her to colleagues? Though she doubted this Sal was actually a colleague of Father's. Sal took a few steps towards the couch, and then decided to stay standing before turning to face Father again.
"I'm gonna be straight with ya here, Joel. You're late on your payments, and my boss doesn't like it when people are late with their payments."
Leslie noticed the color drain from Father's face slightly, but he still managed to keep himself expressionless. "Don't worry; I have your boss's money." He turned to Leslie. "On the kitchen table is an envelope. Could you go grab it for me while I talk with Sal?"
Leslie nodded then turned and quickly absconded from the room. What was Father doing with this suspicious character? She'd have to ask him later. Once she was in the kitchen, she picked the envelope up from the kitchen table and captchalogued it. She was about to go back into the main room of the house when a thought occurred to her.
Leslie: Allocate kitchen knife to Strife Specibus
That was a good idea. She opened a drawer and picked out a medium sized kitchen knife. She didn't trust Sal to not try something, so she set her Kind Abstratus to knifekind and tucked the knife into her Strife Deck.
She went back into the other room and handed the envelope to Father, who then handed it to Sal. Leslie eyed Sal suspiciously as he opened the envelope and inspected its contents. He closed the envelope back up and then looked at Father disappointingly.
"There's still about two hundred dollars missing."
Father paused, and then spoke slowly, carefully choosing his words. "Look, I've had to take some… pay cuts… at work. Just tell your boss that I'll have the money once I can."
Sal shook his head before reaching into his suit jacket. He pulled out a pistol and pointed it at Father casually. "Joel, you've given us that 'pay cut' story before. My boss is fed up. He gave me specific instructions to bring you in to see him if you couldn't make the full payment this time. And when he said 'bring you in', he meant dead or alive."
Leslie: Intervene
Before she knew what she was doing, Leslie equipped her knife and slashed at Sal's gun hand. Sal shouted in pain as the gun clattered to the floor and red welled out of the vertical cut on his hand. Leslie quickly captchalogued the pistol and then turned to abscond up the stairs. Father called after her before following her up the stairs.
Once Leslie got to her room, the walls jutted outward and a Totem Lathe, Cruxtruder and pre-punched card appeared. Leslie noted that the card containedsome sort of amulet before she captchalogued it. Pesterchum chimed, and Blake's name flashed on the computer screen.
SS: who was that fucker with the pistol
SS: i need you up here so i can place this shit
SS: oh ok there you are
MH: no time
MH: where's the alchemiter?
SS: front yard
SS: figured id save the grist and not make your room bigger
Leslie slid the pre-punched card into the Totem Lathe just as her dresser was dropped on top of the Cruxtruder. She grabbed the dowel that was launched out and placed it in the Lathe, then turned to the Kernelsprite.
Leslie: Prototype Kernelsprite with art supplies
Leslie tried to retrieve her art kit from her sylladex, but it was trapped under her phone, and then the pistol. Lacking a better alternative, she retrieved the pistol and flung the weapon into the Kernelsprite. She turned around to grab the cruxite dowel when she noticed her hands were still dripping with some of Sal's blood. She resolved to deal with the issue later and captchalogued the dowel. Leslie turned to leave her room again when Father burst through the door.
"What the hell is going on?" He demanded, shaking with furry and confusion. "Do you realize what that little stunt you pulled downstairs will mean for us?"
"Father, please", Leslie began, "There are more important things going on. I can assure you that harm probably won't come from my actions." Father didn't look any less furious, but Leslie only had a finite amount of time to enter the session, so he'd have to wait.
Matt: Ascend to the highest point of the house
Matt began to make his way up to the top of his roof and watched Imps follow after him. He threw one of his drumsticks at the first Imp, landing the weapon in the creature's chest. He rushed forward, pulled the stick free, and kicked the Imp back down the roof, taking its fellow Imps with it. Matt followed the trail of oil and collected the Grist just before a massive hand gripped the side of the balcony. With a mighty pull, the Ogre hefted its girth onto the balcony.
"Fuck."
MATT, I AIN'T NO MILITARY TACTICIAN, BUT YOU SEEM OUTCLASSED. YOU SHOULD MAKE A HASTY RETREAT.
Now the voice made sense. Slowly, Matt backed up towards the stairs that led higher up on the roof. The Ogre made a sort of grunting noise and started forwards.
RUN!
Matt quickened his pace just before a massive fist could crush him. He stumbled as another fist struck at his heels. He ran until he reached another edge of his roof. Below him, Imps raised their claws and slashed at the air like hungry children. The ground quaked and Matt knew the Ogre was close behind him. Another Ogre made its way across the front lawn, and Matt had a crazy idea that, with the right timing, just might work.
KID, IF YOU'RE THINKIN WHAT I THINK YOU'RE THINKIN, YOU BETTER JUMP QUICK.
Matt: Descend
Heeding the voice's advice, Matt took a few steps back and then launched himself off of the roof. He flipped his drumsticks into a reverse grip and tried to aim for the Ogre's forehead. If he was lucky, this would work.
The Ogre caught Matt mid-fall effortlessly. Well, shit.
The Ogre threw Matt back towards the roof, where the other Ogre was waiting to catch him. Matt found himself palmed like a baseball yet again and was slammed down onto his roof. He saw his health vial quickly drain. This wasn't good. His eyelids fluttered and he vaguely thought that needed help.
ZAAAP
"Arf!"
Wait, what?
Matt slowly opened his eyes and saw Monty hovering over him. The dog-sprite licked his master's face, and Matt's health vial recharged. Reenergized, Matt sprang to his feet and readied his drumsticks.
The Ogre that had almost slain him was sitting a few feet away, rubbing a large scorch mark on its head. Seizing the opportunity, Matt jumped and buried one of his sticks in the colossal thing's forehead. Matt struck again before the Ogre could retaliate, stabbing one of its eyes and pulling the other stick free to swipe across the creature's face. The Ogre exploded into copious amounts of Grist, and several Imps watching absconded in fear.
Matt swiftly collected the Grist, 26 units of Tar, 40 units of Mercury and 33 units of Shale, and breathed a sigh of relief. Then he noticed that his white dress shirt was thoroughly stained with oil. Great, now he'd have to find a new outfit, and there was still a shit-ton of Imps and Ogres storming his house. Matt returned to the balcony and looked through his sylladex. Now that he thought about it, it was probably a good time to alchemize a new weapon. He still lacked the Grist necessary for one of his previous weapon attempts, but maybe a different combination would yield success.
Matt: Combine drumsticks and Anti-Grav boots
The result drained all of Matt's Mercury and most of his Tar, but now he wielded a pair of Anti-Grav , it looked like they could trap a target in a gravity-free field, leaving them open for attack. It didn't look like they multiplied damage in any way, but they would still come in handy. The sticks looked the same as before, except that they were now cloaked in a field that gave them a distorted look.
Matt: Alchemize new outfit
Sadly, Matt lacked the Grist necessary to make a new outfit. He instead opted to revert back to his plain drumstick t-shirt and jeans. He was about to captchalogue the oily dress shirt and pants, but instead decided to simply toss them aside.
MATT, PICK YOUR SUIT BACK UP.
No way. That thing was stained with oil that's been God knows where.
YOU DON'T JUST THROW OUT A SHARP LOOKING SUIT, YOU IGNORANT PUNK. GO AND PICK IT UP.
Matt abjured the hell out of that particular command. No way was he going to don an oil-stained secret agent suit. The thought of donning a plain secret agent suit for no reason still mystified him.
THAT SUIT IS FINELY TAILORED AND STYLISH, KID. I STRONGLY DEMAND YOU PICK IT UP AND WEAR IT.
Abjuration. Total and complete abjuration. Matt felt his phone vibrate but that wasn't important. This voice needed to know that he would never, in a million years, wear disgusting oily clothing. It would not be a thing that happened.
Years in the future…
The Disgraced Deserter rubbed his face.
YOU'RE A FRUSTRATING ONE, KID. IF I COULD, I'D DEAL YOU A SENSELESS DRUBBING TO KNOCK SOME SENSE INTO YOUR HEAD.
The kid on the screen still refused. The Deserter almost pounded a fist against the console, but managed to cool himself down. If the kid didn't want to be well-dressed, then that was his problem. He could try his best, but in the end the Deserter couldn't force this kid to do anything.
OK, FINE. YOU DON'T WANNA WEAR THE SUIT? GO AHEAD AND NOT WEar it.
In his typing, the Deserter accidentally hit the caps lock key. There was a clunk sound as a compartment to his left flipped open. Its contents were spilled onto the floor: several canned goods, a length of rope, and a large grey book.
The Deserter inspected the labels of all the canned goods, stopping when he saw a can labeled "beef."
DD: Open canned beef
The mere idea almost made his mouth water, but first the Deserter would need to make use of a tool. He placed a hand at his side and felt something he'd almost forgotten: the short sword strapped to his hip. In a flash the weapon was drawn from its sheath. The handle was barely covered by a worn fabric, but the blade shone with a polished glint. The Deserter looked down at the can of meat; he would be eating well tonight.
Years in the past, but not enough to make a big deal out of…
Matt slowly calmed down. The voice had rescinded, finally leaving him alone with his thoughts. His respite didn't last long, though, since his phone vibrated. He opened Pesterchum to see who it was.
shutterbugSlick [SS] began pestering recklessRhythmic [RR]
SS: sup bro
SS: got a second
SS: I need to get the mad chats on
RR: I'm here, bud
SS: ok
SS: have you been hearin a voice or something
SS: or been having strange thoughts
SS: like since you started the game
RR: As a matter of fact, I have
RR: I thought I was just going insane
SS: nah bro im hearin it to
SS: then again maybe were just going insane together
SS: a couple of bros just ridin the crazy train
SS: ALL ABOOOOOAAAAARD!
RR: Yeah, but has your voice tried to make you do some stupid stuff?
SS: uh not really
SS: its mostly just been these angry thoughts in the back of my head
SS: i up and asked leslie about since shes in the game to but she didn't say she heard anything
RR: Leslie's in the game?
RR: Are you her server player?
SS: yup
SS: got my super hero on savin her from that meteor
RR: So does that mean…
RR: …you can see, like, everything she's doing right now?
SS: wait is my best bro havin some dirty thoughts
SS: feelin a little steamy on your windy planet
SS: gettin your x rated on
SS: you catchin my drift pally boy
RR: Yes, and that's a fucking disgusting drift you've got going there
RR: Like, I need some air freshener to clear up this majorly gross drift you just layuehgdceh
SS: …da fuq
Matt's metaphor was interrupted as a fist struck the back of his head. His phone bounced across the roof before falling into the rain gutter. Matt turned to face his assailant, but was met with only empty air. He turned again just in time for a pair of invisible claws to slash across the front of his chest. He staggered backwards as his opponent slowly phased into view.
The Shale Imp wiggled its bloody claws in glee at its prey's weakened state. Matt noted that the Imp's features were distinctly more… reptilian. On top of that, he noticed that one of the Imp's eyes was trained on him, while the other searched the rest of the roof for possible threats. Matt remembered Blake's pet chameleon, Rex. The Imp wasted no further time in lunging at its opponent, but Matt was able to bat the creature's claws away. The Imp took a step backward before fading into invisibility.
STRIFE!
Matt whipped his head in one direction and the other, searching for the Imp. He tried to listen for the sound of footsteps, but only heard silence. Even the voice that shouted at the edge of his perception was silent. Suddenly there was the soft tapping of feet against the roof, and Matt ducked just in time to dodge a slash aimed for his head. He held a stick in the direction the strike had come from, and there was a whoosh sound as the space a foot in front of him was drained of its gravity.
An orb of condensed space remained after the blast faded, and after a few seconds of waiting the Imp within revealed itself. Matt didn't spare a moment as he lurched forward, thrusting one stick into the Imp's head and the other into its chest. With the Imp defeated, the leftover Grist remained trapped in the gravity field. Matt collected his spoils, and the gravity field dissipated right after.
Author: Introduce last two characters
Hey, you can't give me commands! I'm in charge of the story here. If I want to keep characters shrouded in mystery for an extended period of time, then that's just what I'll do.
Matt: Be the other guy
That's more like it; let's keep the story moving with pre-introduced characters. Blake raised an eyebrow at the last bit of text Matt had sent. What just happened? He asked what was going on, but Matt had apparently gone dark. A few seconds later, and his status changed to 'idle chum'. Blake captchalogued his computer and looked out at his new surroundings.
Blake's house had been transported to the bottom of an ocean, but remained concealed within a bubble that separated him from the water. The water was a clear blue, showing the bare seafloor, and Blake could see other bubbles float by in the distance. Occasionally, the water's color would change to a yellow tint or light purple tint.
These observations made the name of Blake's planet pretty obvious, but the game decided to tell it to him anyway: The Land of Colors and Bubbles. Blake thought that the name was pretty simplistic, and that whoever had gone about naming this planet hadn't put much thought into it, but he didn't really care. In his opinion, this place was fucking awesome no matter what they named it.
Blake: Take picture of underwater landscape
Pssh, Blake had already taken three pictures of his new planet. Still, a fourth couldn't hurt. Blake retrieved his digital camera from his Sylladex and quickly snapped a photo of one of the distant bubbles. He was awed at the way the different colors reflected off of the bubbles. Oh yes, this one was a definite keeper.
"What happened to Matt?"
Blake didn't even notice that he wasn't alone any more. He turned and looked up at his sprite. Rex looked back down at him, flicked his tongue out, and then looked back out towards the ocean.
"His text ended with some weird gibberish and then he went offline. I hope everything's cool with him."
"You know, you could always ask his server player to check on him."
"That's… actually a really good fucking idea. How'd you think of that?"
"Chameleon's live longer then you'd think. Well, dwarf chameleons do anyway." The lizard flicked his tongue out again, and then faded into invisibility. Blake didn't remember Rex's camouflage ability being that good before the game.
Blake: Pester Leslie
Blake pulled his laptop back out and checked Pesterchum. Matt was still idle, but luckily enough, Leslie was online.
shutterbugSlick [SS] began pestering minervasHandmaid [MH]
SS: les
SS: could you do your best server player a favor
SS: its real important
MH: regretfully, my hands are somewhat full
MH: what's this favor? I might be able to help
SS: matts gone off the grid and im kinda worried
SS: seein as how you're his server player i was hopin you could up and check on him
MH: that is a little bit worrying. give me a moment
After about 30 seconds, Blake decided to get up and stretch. He left his computer where it was and took a quick three sixty turn. He thought he saw something, but dismissed it. He didn't notice the Chalk Imp reveal itself behind him. The Imp was about to strike at Blake when Rex appeared and attacked the Imp with his tongue. Blake turned around again when he heard the commotion and decided hey, why not get a little combat experience?
STRIFE!
Rex whipped the Imp a last time in the head, depleting its health vial to half, then floated backwards and disappeared. Blake stepped towards the creature, filling the empty space, and pulled out his electric guitar. He held the instrument like an axe and took a few more steps toward his opponent. Finally, the Imp lunged for Blake with one of its claws. Blake leaned back and let the claw pass in front of him harmlessly, then swung his guitar in an uppercut. The Imp's smile turned to a frown seconds before it was hit.
CLANG!
The Imp's health bar drained to zero and the underling exploded into Grist. Blake collected his reward before giving his guitar a look over. The thing should have probably been broken, but Mom had spared no expense in buying him the highest quality guitar she could find, and then having it reinforced with a titanium alloy. Now it was practically indestructible.
Blake: Level up
The astonishing flare Blake used in his victory sent him up the Echeladder just high enough to reach the next rung: FretStrummer. Blake rejoiced in his new found victory, storing the Boondollars he had been awarded in his Ceramic Porkhollow.
Blake: Check computer
Blake captchalogued his guitar and sat down in front of his laptop again. Apparently, in the heat of his battle, Leslie had finally replied.
MH: yes, Matt is fine
MH: it seems he just misplaced his phone mid-strife
MH: I'm using my power over his world to show him where it is. he should be back online momentarily
SS: thanks
True to Leslie's word, Matt's name lit up after a few seconds.
RR: Ok, I'm back
RR: Oh wow, that sure is some incoherent babble I left you there, isn't it?
SS: yes it is now what exactly happened that made you lose your phone
RR: First, did you by any chance prototype your sprite with Rex?
SS: well yes i did
RR: Then it's technically your fault
SS: hold up how does that fuckin work
SS: your accusin me because you got attacked or some shit
SS: how high do you have to be to DO something like that
RR: Since you used your pet chameleon, the Imps were given the ability to turn invisible
SS: …they couldnt do that before
RR: No. Prototyping is what gives Imps more unique appearance and, apparently, abilities
SS: shit bro im fuckin sorry bout that
SS: i got ambushed by one of those little bastards to and i thought the invisibility was just a natural thing
SS: my motherfuckin bad
RR: It's…it's cool man. You didn't know
RR: No harm no foul I guess, they're still pretty easy to manage in battle and holyfuckingshitwhatthehell?
SS: bro what happened are you ok
RR: Shit, one of those bastards has a gun
RR: Wait, more than one of them has a gun. They all have guns now what the hell is going on?
RR: Did you prototype with anything else?
SS: no but i dont know what les used
RR: Ok, I'm gonna try and not get shot and make my way inside before I verbally assault her
RR: Try and stay safe, bro
SS: dont worry about me man
SS: i scream safety over here
recklessRhythmic [RR] ceased pestering shutterbugSlick [SS]
Boy, Matt seems really steamed. Blake sure hoped Leslie had a good explanation for whatever she prototyped with. He hadn't seen Matt this utterly pissed off since the time he had met AC. Blake's thoughts were interrupted when Pesterchum chimed yet again.
cheeryCherry [CC] began pestering shutterbugSlick [SS]
CC: hey blake
CC: are you ready to start building your house up?
CC: that first gate isn't gonna reach itself :P!
SS: yeah im ready
SS: lets make shit happen
Blake: Be the other guy
Matt was torn between feelings of total horror and world consuming rage. On one hand, the Imps had guns now, and that meant Ogres had guns now too. That thought alone would make most people playing the game wet themselves. On the other hand, he was almost certain one of his friends was responsible for his enemies' new found weaponry, and he was determined to let her know just how at-fault she was.
Matt: Return to room. Discard drumstick t-shirt
Ok, maybe he'd give Leslie her due thrashing after he'd gotten out of his shirt. The thing was pretty decently bloodstained after his last fight, and he probably needed to dress his wounds. Making his way across the ladder and through the upstairs window, Matt rushed into the bathroom nearby.
Taking off and captchaloging his shirt, Matt opened the sink drawers in the hopes of finding bandages. His search was rewarded as he discovered something better: a large roll of gauze. He rolled the large bandages around himself several times, stopping after her decided the slashes were well covered.
Matt stepped back into hallway and was about to put his shirt back on when he heard the loud report of a pistol being fired. A bullet brushed against his hair far to close, and Matt quickly sprinted into his room before his assailant could get another shot fired. After he closed the door behind himself, Matt took the chair from his desk and used it to barricade the door. Heaving a heavy sigh, Matt pulled out his phone.
recklessRhythmic [RR] began pestering minervasHandmaid [MH]
RR: You are in so much trouble, you don't even fucking know
RR: I am so angry that my white hot rage would make the sun look like a heat lamp
RR: Are you listening to me right now? Leslie?
RR: Dammit, stop walking away from your fucking computer!
Matt was seething now. His rage was focused, though. He would rant at Leslie and she would be there to listen to him, and to see how very pissed he was. He decided that he would have to bring her back to her computer, and he knew just how to do it.
Minutes in the past
Leslie rubbed her temples in utter frustration. Father was scolding her for her actions, even though she'd saved the both of them from annihilation. Sal had taken off just after their entry into the medium, absconding to his car to escape the "crazy psycho girl with the knife who had the audacity to cut him and then steal his gun" and drove off. Now Leslie had nothing to do but look out the window at the landscape as father continued to scold her.
From what she'd been told about Matt and Blake's respective planets, hers seemed the most unique. For the most part all she could see was forest, but the leaves were colored a bright fuchsia. Through some areas of the forest, Leslie could see clearings and fields that reflected the light of the sun, making it look like the grass was on fire. Hills also dotted the less forested parts of the landscape, some of them marked with cave openings. The whole atmosphere of the planet was bright and inviting. The world's name floated through Leslie's mind as she pretended to listen to Father: The Land of Magic and Mystery.
"Are you listening to me, missy?"
Ugh, Leslie hated when Father called her missy. It made her feel so small. "Yes Father, I'm listening."
"Then do you realize how impulsive and stupid your actions were?" Father was red in the face. It seemed like his words weren't quite covering what he meant to say, and the frustration was just building up.
"I understand, Father, but that 'colleague' of yours had a gun. I'd have preferred not seeing bits of your insides splattered across the carpet." Leslie maintained her composure as best she could; Father couldn't keep this lecture up forever.
Finally, after a few more seconds of silence, Father seemed to calm down. "Now then", he started, looking out at the scenery, "where exactly are we?"
Leslie's response was cut off when her phone vibrated. Luckily, it was in the top card of her Sylladex, so she could easily retrieve it and check the message. It was from Matt, and read "I really need to talk to you. Go to your computer. If it helps, I'm not wearing a shirt ;)". Leslie's jaw went slightly slack and she felt her face heat up when she finished the last sentence. Matt without a shirt? Matt using a winky emoticon? More importantly, Matt without a shirt?
"I'll…uh…explain later. I need to…go help my friend really quick." Leslie absconded right up the stairs without waiting for Father to respond. Shirtless Matt was a thing that was happening, and she wasn't going to miss a second of it.
Once she got to her room, Leslie sat in her chair and stared into her computer screen. Sure enough, there was a shirtless Matt on her screen, but he looked thoroughly displeased. Something must have really ticked him off, and when she noticed the Pesterchum messages he left her, she figured it involved her. Still, she thought she'd try and push her luck.
MH: well someone's looking rather dashing ;)
RR: Don't you even fucking start with the flirting
RR: You see my face right now? Do I look in the mood for flirting?
MH: worth a shot
RR: Moving the fuck on
RR: Do you have any idea why I'm so pissed right now?
MH: color me intrigued, though I'm almost certain it involves me
RR: Ding ding ding! Someone get Leslie a fucking prize!
MH: maybe my prize can wait until after you tell me what I did
RR: Ask your goddamn Sprite
Her Sprite? Leslie hadn't seen her Sprite since she entered the Medium. She hadn't even had a chance to Tier 2 prototype it. All she had used was the…oh, right. Fuck.
MH: oh god
MH: Matt, I'm so sorry
MH: are you ok?
RR: Yes, I'm fucking ok, no thanks to you
RR: Never mind the fact that Blake, lacking knowledge of what prototyping does, accidentally gave our enemies the ability to turn invisible, but you knew full well what prototyping does, and yet you just threw a pistol into the Kernel without any thought as to consequences?
RR: What the fuck Leslie?
RR: I've almost been killed like three times today, and at least one of those times was your fault
RR: Honestly, what was going through your goddamn mind when you pulled that shit move?
MH: I…wasn't thinking
MH: I'm very, truly sorry, but did you think I did that on purpose?
MH: I would never do something that would bring intentional danger to any of my friends, least of all you
MH: I was losing time, and I had to prototype with something
MH: we don't know what happens when you don't prototype, and I didn't want to throw caution to the wind testing it out.
MH: but I'm insulted that you'd think I would carelessly put you in danger like that unless I had no choice
RR: …Shit
RR: Now I feel like a total asshole
MH: …
RR: Ok, ok, I get it
RR: I'm sorry I blew up at you like that. This whole situation is just a little stressful
MH: and?
RR: And I'm sorry I assumed that you weren't thinking. That was just a dick moved on my part
MH: …apology accepted
MH: now let's move on to other business
MH: your house needs to be built up so you can reach your gate
RR: First I'm going to try and put some things together that I can use to alchemize a better getup
RR: Do you mind working on the house while I do that?
MH: not at all. I suppose architecture could serve as an interesting experiment
RR: If you make my house collapse, I'll track you down and kill you
Matt: Start captchaloging
Matt's room was still pretty filthy, but it looked like the Imps hadn't bothered to go through his closet. As he opened the door, several items spilled out and onto the floor. The first thing he captchalogued was a toy sword. Certainly he could use that to make something useful. After that he found a rolled up Doctor Who poster. He captchalogued it and added it to his stack of posters. After that, Matt pushed some of his clothes aside to see what other loot might be hidden in his closet. He was rewarded with the discovery of a snare drum; a birthday present from Sis when he started high school, which was added to his quickly filling sylladex.
Matt: Leave the closet. Captchalogue items elsewhere in the room
First thing Matt noticed that he'd need was his laptop. He grabbed it, filing the last card. How had he not thought of grabbing it before? Stupid stupid dumb. After that Matt tried to grab his typewriter, but stopped when he noticed he didn't have any available captchalogue cards left. He'd have to make room in order to take the typewriter with him.
Matt: Discard gaming magazines
Those things had outlived their usefulness anyway. Matt booted the magazines from his sylladex and watched them spew across the floor of his room before grabbing his beloved typewriter. No way would any Imps interrupt his ability to write stories. His Sylladex now filled, Matt hastily left his room.
Outside, the walls were becoming progressively more coated in oil; a sign that more Imps had been there. Matt walked through the house cautiously, trying to listen for any movement that would give his invisible adversaries away. Once he reached the stairs he caught sight of some Imps by the front door that lacked the distinct reptilian features. They still had pistols, though, so Matt was careful to not to attract their attention.
Once he had neared the bottom of the stairs, Matt threw one of his sticks in the directions of the Imps. The stick missed its intended mark and instead clattered to the floor, but did releases a blast of anti-gravity. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Matt rushed forward and used his one stick to unleash a barrage of single handed blows upon the immobilized Imps. In the heat of the attacks Matt scooped up his other stick, switching to some furious two-handed combos. He finished the assault with a flurry, waving both sticks in the air and bringing them down in single swipes.
Grist bounced off the walls before settling into place on the floor. Matt collected his spoils; 57 units of Build Grist, 49 units of Shale, 43 units of Mercury and 50 units of Tar. Satisfied, Matt turned and opened the front door. The Imps and Ogres had left his front yard, probably in search of a way into the house. Matt took a few steps forward and then turned around to see the progress on his house. Already there were a few extra floors, and Matt could see how much closer to the gate the top of his house was.
RR: Someone's been a busy bee
RR: Say, could you give me a staircase to the same level as my balcony? I need to get to the Alchemiter
MH: sure thing. give me a second
There were a few seconds of delay before a staircase appeared from the roof to the ground. Matt dashed up the stairs and ran across the roof until he reached the balcony.
MH: stairs are surprisingly expensive. I think we should go back to ladders. I like ladders
RR: I almost fell off a ladder earlier, so I think we'll give those some distance for a little bit
Matt: Captchalogued items. Alchemiter. Make it happen
Oh, with much haste. Matt first decided to combine his current outfit with the Starkiller poster. The result was something called the 'Drummer's Training Gear' and consisted of a dark grey shirt with torn sleeves and jet black pants with frayed hems. The gauze Matt had on his chest was now on his arms, starting just after the elbows and stopping before the fingers. Matt's drumstick logo was relocated to the upper right corner of this shirt.
RR: Now this the attire fitting a true adventurous ruffian, is it not?
MH: I must agree. you look like quite the dashing, roguish young man out to have some wild and reckless adventures that will no doubt put you in all kinds of trouble
RR: Wouldn't have it any other way
Matt: Continue Alchemizations
Next up, Matt combined the toy sword from his closet with his Samurai Jack poster. The result was a surprisingly cheap 'Sword of the Hero.' This thing would probably be all kinds of useful if Matt had a swordkind strife specibus. Still, he could probably make use of it for alchemization purposes.
After that, Matt combined his snare drum with the Grimoire. The result? One 'Drum of Fluthlu.' He guessed that maybe playing on it would summon some sort of creatures from the Furthest Ring. Matt decided the smart thing to do would be to save this particular creation for emergencies only; there were some powers he wanted to avoid calling upon unless necessary. He was going to move on to the next alchemization when his phone went off. He checked Pesterchum to see who was….wait, no, not that asshole! Matt did not want to talk to that guy right now.
Matt: Be that guy right now
Good idea; Let's be on the other end of this conversation. But instead of this particular conversation, let's be on the other end of a conversation like this one. A conversation from when Matt and the other party were younger. A conversation from…
Years in the past, but not many…
