Sister, sister, can she hear your shouts?
Mother, mother, can she save you now?
Father, father, he can't save their lives
Brother, brother, he must get the knives

== John: Panic

You're been freaking out a lot recently. Your name is John Egbert and you are the heir to your father's throne. However, you think and have always thought that this is a horribly unfair system, because you've seen the peasants and that's not an okay thing to do to people. They're human beings, for heaven's sake, not cattle.

You had a very strange introduction to the Underground, however. It stands out in your mind like nothing else.

Two teenagers knock on the door.

"John?"

You stop dancing to the music in your head and answer, "Yes?"

"Are you wearing pants?"

It must be Dave and Karkat, two squires with whom you've made an acquaintance. Last time they barged into your room, you were in the middle of changing for a fancy dinner and you weren't wearing pants. This time, however, you are, so you open the door.

"Hey, John, we've got something to talk to you about," Dave says. You hope that neither are horribly ill or something. Or is this about your older sister, Jane?

Dave continues. "You don't agree with this, do you? How they oppress the peasants and shit? Cuz—"

Karkat cuts him off. "Do you want to join the Underground and overthrow the monarchy?"

Your jaw gapes open and you stare for a long, long moment. You can't believe that the thing you've been waiting for has been right in front of your eyes this whole time!

"Shit," Karkat mutters under his breath. "We are so screwed."

"No, no," you say, shaking your head. "Of course I'll join!"

"Cool," Dave says. "Meet us by the castle gate tonight and we'll go to the meeting. You've got magic, by the way. Rose said so."

"WHAT?"

"According to Rose and Terezi, there's sixteen people in the government who have magic in their blood and therefore see what's wrong. We've got to find them and tell them."

"So…I've got magic? Does Jane? What about Jake? Wait—did Jade have magic? Is she really dead? Wow!"

"Jade's not dead. She's a witch and she glows when she uses her powers. See, there's like two levels of magic: there's the level at which you can't hide it and you know you've got it, and there's the level when you're totally clueless and then one day we find you and you flip the fuck out," Dave explains. "That's you, Jane, Jake, and Dirk, so far."

"Whoa."

"Yeah."

"So," Karkat interrupts. "Are you in?"

"Of course!" you grin. Your smile stretches from ear to ear. You've found it. It's time to take down the monarchy.

The main problem right now, about two weeks after the Meeting, is that your father has come up with a new policy to do with taxes. You know it's only because he needs to gain favor from the peasants, keep them all pacified. But you can't let that happen; your job, therefore, is to sabotage this plan. It's a bit paradoxical, that you have to abolish anything that can help people for the next sixth months so you can get rid of this horrible government.

You feel uniquely qualified to talk about how screwed up the monarchy is here.

After all, you're part of it.

You're supposed to be there when your father announces the edict, and you and your sister, Jade, have worked out a plan. You'll pretend to fall and hit your head and she'll use magic to make you look like you've really injured yourself. Other Magicals in the crowd will whip up a panic at the near death of the heir. Except of course that it's not your near death, but hey, it works.

"The Third Edict of the Egbert Family," your father begins. "Taxes upon the peasantry—"

So he's going to get right to the point. Well, you don't let him get any further. Remembering what Jake coached you on, you let your knees loosen and buckle, causing your legs to collapse and the rest of you to follow. You throw out your arms to protect yourself when you truly fall offstage and onto the floor. You feel the false swellings on your head and your left knee and the fake blood trickle down your face. It feels enough like real blood that it's unpleasant and freaky, but not enough to make you throw up.

You don't handle blood well.

Your mother rushes over to you and starts chafing your wrists. She brushes the "bruise" on your forehead and you groan, exactly like Jake taught you. You use your own magic to gently push her towards panic, and it works. "He's dying!"

Your father follows her example, which is very lucky for you because you really have no more than a dribble of magic that hibernates in your subconscious. "Bring him inside immediately! We will enact the edict when he is healed."

It's Jane's job to talk your parents out of the edict. She is a maid after all, one who seems pure and innocent. She can use her charm and the fact that she is the only girl left after Jade "died" (you later discovered that Jane and Jake knew that she was still alive and did not tell you, making you very annoyed) to get your parents to do just about anything. If she can get them to repeal the edict, that will be a huge step to gaining peasantry support.

You feel sort of guilty about the fact that you're prolonging the suffering of a good percent of society for another six months, but there really is no other way.

You keep your eyes closed as your mother carries you inside to your room. You try your best to be limp, but it's hard when you really want to tell your sobbing mother that don't worry, you're fine, you swear, it was all a trick, please don't worry. She worries so much about your safety, about your brother's and sister's wellbeing. You know she goes by Jade's gravestone on the anniversary of the day she ran away and cries. Jade knows, too, and that is why she doesn't go to work that day.

Maybe when this is all over, you can tell your parents that she's still alive.

For now, you are letting one arm dangle off your bed and your head loll to the side. Your mouth is hanging half open and you don't like it. You understand why people prefer consciousness.

Your mother, clearly nearing desperation, slaps your face. You jolt, because she can slap hard!

"John? John, are you alright?" she pleads.

You make some sort of jumbled sound. Jake taught you well. It seems to run in the family, good acting. Rose and Dave and Roxy and Dirk, your distant cousins, are also excellent actors.

"John Egbert!" your mother screams. "Wake up right this instant!"

You're feeling really guilty by now, so you open your eyes and murmur, "Mother?"

"John? Oh my heavens, John, you're all right!"

"'M fine, Mother," you say. "I think I fainted."

"I was worried about Jane fainting from her corset, but maybe I should be worrying about all those layers you wear! Do you need to take off your jacket?"

"No, Mother, it's okay," you say. "I think I'm just tired."

"Then sleep, dear. I'll talk with your father about when we can enact the edict. I'm sure you want to be there."

"I really do, Mother."

"Then I'll make sure you can. Get some sleep, love, and we'll talk about this tomorrow."

Mission accomplished.

You feel like a real action hero from one of the books you read on the many days when you sit idle and wonder if maybe you'll have something interesting to do. Lessons with Jane and Jake from old Mr. Urbano, who can't tell you apart from Jake and Jake apart from Jane, don't count as interesting. Jane and Jake know it all already; it's a wonder Jane isn't married yet. Hell, it's a wonder Jake isn't married yet; all the girls his age court him. You're just sixteen, so your parents are probably going to give you two or three more years. You honestly have no clue who the girl will be, but you used to think about it a lot. That is, until you found out you'll overthrow the monarchy and you won't have to get married unless you want to.

Marriage seems to be playing a big role in this whole thing.

Probably because you have never met a single person who actually wants to be with the person they're married. As far as you can tell, the only reason people have children at all is to keep the family name going.

It makes you sick.

You wait until your mother leaves, then your spring up and throw three stones, then one stone, then four stones, out the window. You get the same reply against the outside wall and it seems the plan has worked. No one noticed the injuries disappearing and all is well.

This is enough of a task without people being observant.

Rocks clatter against your shutters again, except this time it's four, then one, then three. You open the shutter a tad and it's your twin sister, Jade. She's waving frantically. Just as you throw open the shutter the rest of the way, she throws another rock and you duck to avoid it. It lands on your bed and you pick it up.

Emergency. I'm not even kidding, John. Mission compromised; Duke Scratch suspects us, the stone reads in mess, magically done handwriting.

Shit.

Duke Scratch, the highest-up of all the dukes, is one of your main enemies. The only two worse than him are Her Imperious Condescension (Her Majesty) and Lord English of Medici. If he suspects, you're screwed.

You scribble a reply on a piece of paper, attach it to the rock, and throw it back down.

I can't do anything about that! Ask Makaras or Amporas.

I know. Kankri's doing that. I just have to warn you: be careful. Be even more careful now.

I will, Jade. You cross out Jade's name in case someone sees this random piece of paper she'll probably burn later and throw it down one more time.

Good luck, brother.

And good luck to you, sister.

You miss the days before Jade ran away and you thought she died. You grew up with a twin; losing that was the single most traumatic event of your entire life. One set of twins and one younger sibling isn't fun.

You miss when you were little.

You miss when you were little, and you sung nursery rhymes about the disease. Ring around the rosie, pocket full of posie, ashes, ashes, we all fall down!

You miss when you were little, and you sang songs about losing your head. Here comes the candle to light you to bed, here comes the chopper to chop off your head!

You used to sing songs and nursery rhymes, used to sit in lessons and learn a thing or two and not mind that you might be John or Jade or Jake or sometimes Jane to Mr. Urbano, used to have a twin sister to talk in code to, used to whisper secret through the walls to all your siblings.

Then you found out about what really happens in the villages.

You found out that for every hundred stalks of corn a farmer grows, forty-five go to your father and the other men of the palace. When a man dies, your father gets half of his possessions. A man or a woman, you remind yourself. It's just that your whole family is made of men who work and women who don't. Since meeting the Magicals, who have (of sixteen) three men, you've really come to realize how dumb that whole thing about women being weak is.

More rocks hit your shutters. Dammit, you were about to fall asleep, too! You open the window and stick your head out, hoping you won't get a real bruise to match the fake ones on your forehead and right arm.

It's Roxy down there this time, hopefully with information. Since planning this shebang a week ago, you've had no communication from the others. It doesn't help that the magical Underground is spread over three castles: one with the Zahhaks and the Makaras (two closely related families); one with the Amporas, Tavros, and Aradia; and yours, which has Mituna, Dirk, Karkat, Dave, Michael (whose real name is apparently Latula), Jake, Jane, and you. So you have about seven people you interact with on anything resembling a regular basis. You really hate it; isolation does not suit you. You want to be a Magical, with proper powers and a place in the plans that's not just defending the secret and sabotaging your parents until you overthrow them.

"Come up," you call down to Roxy, who's waiting for your response.

You suddenly wonder something. What will happen to your parents when the revolution really happens? Will they survive? Will you?

What will happen if they don't?

You haven't though about this.

You know the whole system is deeply screwed up, but they are your parents. They, your mother especially, care for you every day. They taught you how to walk, how to speak, how to eat, how to ride a horse, everything. You couldn't watch them die. You could never let them die, no matter what they've done or what they will do. They're not Duke Scratch or Lord English or Her Majesty.

Just because they're in the wrong, doesn't mean they deserve to die.