thecapitol | [OPEN]

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[OPEN]

Who| Karkat + YOU, later Karkat + Signless
What| Karkat isn't dead anymore. He's trying to find Signless to clear up a few things. (Unfortunately, Signless is busy learning about Rome.)
Where| inside the Training Center
When| after Karkat dies during Week Seven
Warnings/Notes| hells of swearing

Karkat... isn't dead anymore. Which was weird, because he quite vividly remembers dying and he doesn't remember anyone resurrection kissing him (not that he knows if that kind of shit would even work outside the Medium.)

The point was, however, that if he isn't dead then neither is the Signless probably and that meant that Karkat actually has the chance to clear up a few important things with the older troll--especially about that unintentional shoosh-pap, but about their shared mutation too.

Unfortunately, Signless evidently isn't part of the same "district" that Karkat had been assigned to, so in order to find him Karkat is going to have to venture out into the Training Center's common area.

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It's only natural that the Signless's explorations should eventually lead him here. This building is huge, bigger even than the communal hivestems he sometimes saw from a distance on his travels, which is good because he doesn't like staying in one place for too long and a large area to wander in is exactly what he needs.

It took him a while to leave his room, though. There was so much there to explore -- he now smells strongly of cinnamon, thanks to whatever the hell buttons he pushed when he was messing with the shower -- and finding an outfit to his taste took forever, and then he had to go back and find shoes he didn't hate too (very difficult) when a frightening alien woman told him he was not allowed to leave his rooms without them, this place was not a barn.

He's got on a loose black tunic top, annoyingly strappy black sandals, and black pants that are just a bit too shiny for his taste but the closest he could find to leggings. He'll have to have a talk with whoever stocks his closet. Later, though. Right now he's got someone he really should be talking to.

"Karkat?"

Karkat turns around. "There you are," he says, with mixed exasperation and relief. "Holy fuck, I've been looking all over for you. There's a couple more of us, both lowbloods--some maroon kid I've never met before and this adult who looks like this yellow kid I know and he claims he's the fucking Condesce's helmsman. And Cuthbert's here."

He looks Signless up and down. God, that outfit was ridiculous, although at least it was a nice sensible black. (Karkat had had a bitch of a time himself finding anything to wear in his closet and had ended up with billowy black silk pants and a soft grey sweater.)

"Look," he says. "Is there anywhere we can go that's private? I need to talk to you about shit. Especially what happened just before we died--because I didn't mean what I did. I was just trying to get you to stay quiet."

Edited 2013-05-05 17:16 (UTC)

The sweater reminds him forcefully of Kankri -- Kankri Alpha, anyway. At least it's not red, though he has a feeling Karkat wouldn't be comfortable in red, knowing what he knows now about him.

"What floor are you staying on? I'm all the way up at the top, but we could probably talk privately in your room." He smiles softly. "And I know you didn't mean it, not like that. You're six sweeps, you can do better than me."

He resists adding that Karkat really does need a moirail, though, because those anger issues aren't going to talk about themselves.

"They said it was the District One Suites," Karkat says, as he leads Signless back to the elevator. "I've got a respite block, but there's no 'coon, just a soft slab. They gave me money for culling tributes, so I guess I'll get stuff for it later. Maybe we could go out and get you another fabric 'coon later, since that asshole who killed us probably has it now. After we talk."

He doesn't address what Signless said about him doing better. He's not entirely sure that as a mutant he really deserves to fill any of his quadrants, even the conciliatory ones.

And anyway, everyone he's ever felt sort of pale for is gone and he has no idea if he'll ever see them again--or if the demon that destroyed their door killed them too.

Edited 2013-05-07 03:41 (UTC)

"I think I'd like that," he says, following Karkat into the elevator. He isn't sure if he likes that you can see out of it as you rocket upward; it's a little dizzying. "Another fabric 'coon. The slab is alright -- I've slept on far worse, you know, I never had a recuperacoon through any of my early moults."

He's rambling, a little, maybe, but he doesn't want to address every single little thing that's wrong with 'they gave me money for culling tributes', and he knows he will if he lets the words start coming.

"I wanted to get some novels," Karkat says, "but the humans have this messed up writing system, I can't actually read it. Maybe there'll be a place with movies, though. Actually, a big place like this probably has a movie hive. That could be cool, going to the movies before they go to grub. Do you like movies?"

He's purposefully trying to keep the conversation light until they can get to his block and actually talk about the important stuff.

"I did, a long time ago," he says. It's not entirely true -- Alpha Kankri hated the movies, would pick apart everything he ever saw until he had nothing left he could feel comfortable praising and no one that wanted to listen to him because he'd ruin it for them too. Of course the Beta Kankri never had a chance to get anywhere near a movie except for once or twice at the outdoor movie projection lots that he and his mother would watch from a safe distance, even if it was hard to hear the sound.

"You and I should go to one, while we have time, before the next arena starts up. Something happy. It'd be silly not to take full advantage of the time we have here, after all."

The District 1 Suites aren't too far up; the elevator doors swish open again and Signless steps out into a floor that looks very much like the one he came from earlier.

"Which respiteblock is yours?"

"This one," Karkat say, leading Signless to the one he'd been assigned. For all its luxury, it's very plain and impersonal. "And yeah, we should." He wonders if the humans have any romcoms.

He closes the door behind them, then turns to face the Signless. Breathes slowly out.

"So you saw. When that douchebucket killed us. I'm like you."

The Signless gives an involuntary wince. He'd been trying ever since they'd been brought back to life to not to think about watching Karkat die.

"I saw. It explains a lot, really, looking back. Why you stayed with me and protected me, instead of just culling me like another troll might have." He crosses to the bed and sits on the edge of it. "I never thought I'd get to meet you; I figured I'd be dead before you hatched."

Karkat stares at the Signless. Who is not making any sense whatsoever.

"What do you mean, you thought you'd be dead before I hatched? You knew I was going to be hatched? How? Why? WHAT THE FUCK IS EVEN GOING ON?"

The Signless looks at him impassively, though his hands are fiddling almost nervously with the hem of his oversized shirt. If he's wrong, or if Karkat isn't from the time he needs to be for this conversation to make sense, he'll have a lot of uncomfortable explaining and apologizing to do.

"Before you came here, you played a game, didn't you? A game that ended the world?"

Karkat nods, still staring at the Signless. His meat tunnel feels very, very dry. It's an effort to reply.

"Yeah. Sgrub. But how--"

How the fuck does Signless know anything about Sgrub?

"I played Sgrub too, once, a very, very long time ago. A universe ago." His hands stop twisting and instead clutch each other very tightly. He seems to be debating something for a moment, and then stands and begins to strip the fluffy comforters and blankets off the bed and toss them to the floor, along with the pillows. It makes a serviceable pile.

"This is going to be a long conversation, but it needs to be had, before anything else happens." He sits in the makeshift pile. "We might as well be properly comfortable for it."

Karkat stares at Signless in the pile. Shit. Shit. He's not in a quadrant with Signless despite the shooshpap--he's not entirely sure he'd want to be in a quadrant with Signless (although the older troll is kind of palely pitiful in his crack-panned way)--but on the other hand, he has a feeling that this is going to be the kind of discussion that he's going to need to reassurance of being in-pile for.

Discussion, fuck. With the way things were going it was looking to be a fucking full-blown feelings jam.

Karkat sits down next to the Signless, making very sure that he isn't touching the older troll.

Edited 2013-05-08 00:41 (UTC)

The Signless obligingly gives him a moment to get situated before he starts. This is going to be a long story; Karkat is going to want to be comfortable.

But how does he start? There's so much to explain and he doesn't know which direction he should tackle it from or how much he should leave in or leave out. He takes a deep breath, and just talks.

"A very long time ago, another group of twelve trolls played Sgrub. They were from a planet called Beforus, and Beforus was a peaceful and kind place where highbloods took care of lowbloods, if not always with understanding, at least with compassion and good intent. But the trolls didn't play the game well. They fought with each other and led in too many different directions, and ruined their chances of winning. So they made the choice to reset the game in hopes that a different group of trolls might be able to win it instead. They would exist in the reset universe, but wouldn't remember their previous lives."

It's so strange, telling Kankri's story -- his own story -- to someone else in such detail. He always left out most of these parts when preaching. It feels almost refreshing to be able to tell the entire thing.

"I was the Seer of Blood in that session, and I think the powers it gave me must have manifested on Alternia, because as I grew, I began to have dreams and visions of who I had been before. So I knew you would hatch eventually and play the game like I had. I knew there would be at least one other like me, because that had been the deal. That you would play, and you would win, because we failed."

Karkat doesn't say anything for a long time. He just stares at Signless.

He wants to believe him. He does. Even though the very idea of this-- this-- Beforus goes against all he's been taught about how the world works--about how trolls work.

(It sounds like the kind of place that Feferi wanted to make. That most of them were secretly hoping the world created with the Genesis Frog would be like.)

"We won," he says finally. "I was our leader. I whipped them into shape and kept them on track and we practically made a power run out of it. We'd just defeated the Black King earlier that evening when I met you--you should have seen it, we were a well-trained fighting machine--and we were going to open the door into our new world."

He takes a deep breath. "And right when I was reaching for the knob, this barkbeast carapaced demon thing appeared out of nowhere and cut the door in half and I got snatched up by the capitol humans."

He lets the breath out in a long sigh. "So you see, it doesn't matter that we won, we were still fucked anyway."

Edited 2013-05-08 05:29 (UTC)

He was their leader. He was their leader and he did well, and they won. The Signless feels an immense upswell of pride for this young troll, sweeps younger than he was when his group finally decided to reset, but it's almost immediately replaced by grief. It doesn't matter that we won, we were still fucked anyway.

Without thinking, he reaches out and enfolds Karkat in a hug. They're in a pile, and there are a lot of emotions swirling around, and it feels warranted giving the weight of what they're discussing.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I thought the reset would help, but it just made trolls violent and hateful and didn't even let you win, not really. Even across universes I'm an awful leader."

He gives Karkat's cheek a somewhat mopey pap. Even his work on Alternia was for nothing, if Volanz and what he managed to piece together from things the Psiioniic said to him are any indication. All he ever wanted was to not fail someone, for once. To have made at least one good decision that had lasting good effects.

God dammit.

"Shooooooooosh," Karkat shooshes and he's surprised to find that he really means it this time, that he wants to calm and quiet Signless not because their lives depend on it but because he doesn't want the older troll to hurt. His diamond is overflowing with unexpected pale pity and he doesn't even protest the hug. "Shooooooosh."

He paps Signless back firmly, on the cheek, and says, very tenderly, "Shut the fuck up, dumbass. It did help, we did win, that demon and the Capitol just fucked things up afterward."

Edited 2013-05-08 05:55 (UTC)

The Signless goes quiet, closing his eyes and momentarily just basking in the feeling of proper pale care. All the stress and worry he'd been ignoring in the arena and trying to hold back since he revived in the Capitol abruptly crash down on him and he hugs Karkat just a little bit tighter.

His moiraillegiance is dissolving -- probably already broken, if he's honest with himself. One of the trolls he cares about most in the entire universe hates him for reasons he doesn't even fully understand, and it's not even romantic hate, which might be a salvageable relationship. He's going to die here, over and over, alone, and he's going to have to watch his descendent die too with the knowledge he could have had a good life otherwise.

"You aren't angry with me, are you? For when you died?" For not doing anything. For not even crying out.

"Dumbass," Karkat murmurs back, his face finding the hollow where Signless' neck meets his shoulders and his hands sliding into Signless' hair to ruffle it into something even messier than usual. "You were the smart one. I was the one who got culled because I wasn't satisfied with just hiding from him. If anything, you should be angry with me for getting you culled. I'd hoped you'd be able to get away and find Cuthbert--but since he was culled too, it wouldn't have helped."

Karkat hugs Signless back tightly--and why not, they're in pile, they shooshpapped, they've fallen into a moirallegiance or something very like it and there's part of him that marvels how very romantic this is, how much like one of his movies or novels.

"Shooooosh," he shooshes softly, just because he can.

Signless rests his chin atop Karkat's head, eyes still closed.

"I'm not angry. You did what you thought was right, to keep me safe. You stayed with me when you didn't have to, when I was probably more of a risk than anything. It's because of my blood, isn't it? Because I'm like you?"

It would be a good reason to pity someone, he thinks. Being so similar in such a strange and dangerous way. Maybe that's why Karkat's shooshing him. Maybe that's why he doesn't mind.

Karkat nods, nuzzling Signless' neck as he does. "Yeah. That's why I stayed in the beginning. Because you were like me. I'd met someone else with our blood before, but he was a carapace, you were the first troll. Fuck. You're more like me than I even knew. You're the other grub my color, aren't you? I made them in the ectobiology lab. Two dozen trolls, two of each caste--each modern caste, no limebloods--and two like us. Two mutants." He starts laughing hysterically, hiccuping and sobbing as he goes. "Fuck. And here I thought ancestors were highblood bullshit."

"Shooooosh," he murmurs, rubbing between Karkat's shoulder blades with one hand in what he hopes is a comforting manner. "We're not, no. Everyone you played with had a counterpart, in the past of your universe and the present of mine. You probably knew a yellowblood, just like I know the Psiioniic, just like the other Kankri knew Mituna."

He sighs and shifts a little. Just talking about the Psiioniic makes his throat feel tight, makes his temples ache.

"Sollux," Karkat murmurs. He's rubbing Signless' head, in the space between his horns. "A lispy annoying asshole." He sighs. "One of my best friends. I miss him. I thought that Helmsman guy was him at first, you know?"

If he looked as much like Signless as Sollux did to the Helmsman, maybe it was no wonder that Doobie had mistaken him for the older troll.

"They're genetic duplicates," says the Signless, his voice oddly subdued. "So that makes sense, that you'd mistake one for the other."

He wishes this Mituna were like the Beforan Mituna, right now. He was damaged, yes, but through his own bravery, and he was sweet and kind and... no, no, he promised himself he'd never compare, he'd never try to make his Alternian friends be the ones he remembered in his visions.

If anything, he misses the Alternian Mituna he remembers. The one that was abrasive and sarcastic and awful but the best troll he'd ever known. It's so strange hearing him called the Helmsman. The images it brings up, the idea of his best friend strapped into one of those awful battery setups... he shivers.

"I hate that name. The Helmsman. I hate that that's what he's become."

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