Rose lay back on the couch in the common room of the New York cell's apartment, contemplating her writing. On the coffee table next to the couch, a well worn and densely packed notebook sat open. In her lap, a small laptop computer. On that computer, a verbose word document she had been working on sporadically for the last three months, ever since their arrival. Their "life" story in book form. Too fantastical to ever pass as a true story. But she was sure a great work of fiction could be synthesized from it, given a little creative embellishment. At present, she was working on recalling conversations between her and Kanaya during the first session. But keeping the chronology straight after all these years was giving her a headache. And writer's block.
Also in the common room with her were two of the ex-trolls. Kanaya sat at the kitchen table, which was currently covered in red cloth, with a couple of sewing pins gripped between her teeth as she consulted a design sketch before making precise cuts to the fabric. She work a black long sleeve shirt and tan pants, but aside from the skin tone and horns looked very much like her old self. Karkat, who had taken significant effort to look more like his old self by dying his hair back to black, sat in a reclining chair in front of the television. He'd forgone the cancer-emblem shirt for a variety of tees with witty, expletive ridden phrases. On the TV, re-runs of "The Fresh Prince of Bel-Aire" on TV Land. Apparently, though human and troll Will Smith possessed similar personalities, the plots of the shows were wildly different, much to Karkat's chagrin. His complaints about the superiority of the troll version were a familiar distraction Rose had learned to tune out.
One of the bedroom doors opened and the rattling of plastic wheels drew Rose's attention. A black office chair rolled towards her with it's back towards her, but ground to a halt between Karkat and the television.
"Hi Karkat." The tan girl with long black hair swiveled in the chair to face him. "Whatcha doing?" Atop her head, white dog ears twitched playfully as she spoke.
"DAMN IT HARLEY." Karkat rolled his eyes. "WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?"
"The fuck is what?" She said innocently. In response, Karkat reached up, grabbed one of the ears, and pulled. Both the ears, as well as the hairband they were attached to, lifted off her head before he hasitly swatted his hand away and resettled them in place.
"Stop that!" She complained.
"LOOK, I GET IT. WE ALL MISS HOW WE USED TO LOOK." Karkat groaned. "BUT YOU DON'T SEE US RUNNING AROUND WEARING FAKE HORNS AND FACE PAINT ALL THE TIME!"
"Well, I don't wear them in public..." She defended. Sensors in the headband picked up small ticks in her inflection and biometrics, causing the ears to constantly match her outward emotions.
"YOU GO OUT IN PUBLIC?" Karkat fired back sarcastically. "NEWS TO FUCKING ME!"
"Says the grouchy pants who sits here and watches forty year old TV all day." She snarked back.
"Can you two lay off it for a bit?" Rose interrupted. "I'm nursing a migraine here." Jade shrugged and rolled her chair further across the room, while Karkat unpaused the TV.
"How's it going?" She asked her.
"Not so hot. I'm stuck on figuring out the order of the conversations. I've got the order for both of us..." She gestured at Kanaya, "but I can't figure out how to present it to the reader so that the time shenanigans make sense."
"Well, why not skip it and comeback later?"
"Your solution to my problem with non-linearity is more non-linearity?"
"I CAN'T FATHOM WHY YOU'RE WRITING ABOUT IT IN THE FIRST PLACE. WHAT'S THE POINT?"
"I like to write. It fills the time."
"IT. FILLS. THE TIME." Karkat crossed his arms. "MONTH'S NOW WE'VE BEEN STUCK HERE 'FILLING TIME'." He stood up and faced them. "WHEN WE SHOULD HAVE BEEN OUT THERE STICKING IT TO THOSE SKAIANET BASTARDS!" He pointed in the general direction of the city block housing their HQ.
"How?" Jade calmly stopped him. This was an argument that had happened before. "No powers, no resources, no weapons worth a damn and not even a plan!"
"AND WHOSE FAULT IS THAT?"
"No ones!"
"I believe Mr. Vantas is addressing a grievance with me." A distorted voice came from the television. Everyone looked at the screen. The show had been replaced by a black screen lit only by a white, calligraphic "S". This was how Scratch had contacted them during their brief time together after their escape, hacking a nearby electrical device, a feat that was surprisingly possible in the future decade they found themselves.
"HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN LISTENING YOU SICK FUCK?" Karkat demanded.
"Mr. Vantas, let me assure you... I'm always listening." There was an ominous pause. "Assemble everyone. We will be having a strategy meeting at 8 PM local time."
"NOW LISTEN HERE YOU WHITE TEXT DOUCHE-" The monitor turned off and Karkat threw the remote down with disgust.
"I'll text John and Vriska..." Jade told Rose as she pulled her phone from her pocket. "You get the others?"
"Sure." Rose answered, opening her chat client on the laptop. Scratch, her one-time mentor, still perturbed her quite a bit. Though he had turned out to be an indirect adversary during the session, that was still just a role in the story the AI had constructed for them. She still wasn't sure how much he ought to be trusted, although they didn't have many other options for now. Still, she and everyone else who'd directly interacted with him were wary.
That last comment about "always listening"... she wondered if it was truth or merely his melodramatic tendencies. Sheguessed Kanaya had the same thought, as an intense blush on her face had appeared and quickly faded at the mention. She'd ask later. After messaging the final two members of the cell, Rose closed the laptop and began reading through her notebook again. Maybe she would take Jade's advice and skip ahead. Things were much more interesting once she and Kanaya had met.
Dave: Be the Producer.