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rokkettodanoop looks like i cliffhangered again. Lucky for caitlin, it continues from the last one. Unlucky for caitlin, idk when I'll be able to finish this /cackles off into the sun
Summery: While listening to his playlist again, Sollux lets his mind wander back to all that he'd lost and the very little that he'd gained. After that he has a hallucination that inadvertently coerces him into revealing something astonishing.
Word Count: 2285. we're up to 8850 total from these
part sollux part araida part equius
Sometimes when he wasn't sleeping, he would listen to his music and play out stories to go along with the songs. He would make up, he would remember, for all essential purposes, he'd dream.
Clap hands daddy comes
With a pocket full of plums
Don't Cry
Most days I'm okay
Come steal my
Heart
He wondered how his life would have turned out if their race had been allowed to continue. If the game had never taken place, would he have grown up? Would he have wasted his evenings coding viruses, and calling Aradia, and watching the stars with his lusus? Would he lived through to old age, only to die at 30, maybe 35 sweeps being used a spaceship-battery? Or would he have joined a bunch of rebels and fought for equality like his supposed ancestor had?
Clap hands daddy comes
With a pocket full of plums
Don't Cry
Flashback, twisted up
I'm so close to giving up
Don't Cry
No, if he knew himself well enough, he knew he'd more than likely end up killing himself in a freak psionic accident before he could even be of any use to anyone. Hell, maybe he'd relent to Aradia's pestering and finally join in on one of her and Tavros' flarp campaigns only to lose and get fed to Vriska's lusus.
Forgive me if I cannot try any harder
You make it seem like everything I do means nothing at all
As complications go this can't get any sweeter
Don't Cry
But it was nice to think he could have lived a long life with Aradia, and Karkat, and that he could have made a difference, or had someone who cared enough to miss him when he was gone. He didn't really have that luxury now. Sure there were people who cared about him, but... well, he couldn't die, not really, so why would anyone get worked up over the possibility of it? Can't worry about death of you're not even sure if you can die.
The song changed to something more upbeat, but casual. It was a pretty good transition of his mood and thoughts, actually, easing him into all that he'd managed to fuck up. There had been so much to do, and so many wrong turns he could have taken, he was still in denial that he'd actually managed to make it to now. First the game, creating that had been a disaster; even letting Vriska know he existed was bad too, that had led to Aradia's death, and he sure as hell wasn't over that yet, no matter how many times she told him it wasn't his fault, because it was. It clearly was, and if he'd had any psychic strength to his name, he should have been able to block the control... or at least get as far away from the mind honey, or something, christ.
You're a beautiful
A beautiful fucked up man
You're setting up your
Razor wire shrine
And then when the game had started, and he got jealous, of all things. It had really been a dick move, leading Feferi on like that, but... to be honest, it was more unconscious at first, so it wasn't like he'd outright thought 'I'll make Feferi think we're dating to make Aradia jealous' or anything dumb like that. He wouldn't even have gone through with the idea if he'd consciously thought it. It was just that everything had made him so angry... And then when she came to him and hugged him, and exploded...
He felt his heart clench tightly, his jaw tightened, and for all intent and purposes, he was crying. The only thing missing was tears, but lack of eyes made tears a bit of an impossibility. He could bleed from his eye sockets-- but bleeding from the eye sockets and crying weren't really the same thing.
He cleared his throat a bit, taking a breath and coughing slightly when dust entered his wind chute. Even with the air ducts, it had started to get a bit stuffy, so he'd cracked the ceiling panel ever so slightly once he made sure no one was about the nutrition block. There was no need to open it all the way, he didn't want his position to be given away so soon. He wasn't even really sure what he was doing up here, but it was comfortable, and warm, and while he didn't exactly feel safer, at least he didn't have to put up with pretending that everything was alright and hunky-dory.
Well, that wasn't really fair, everything was alright; at least, it was now. He'd noticed that the biggest change losing his eyesight had brought him was how he went about things. Before hand, if he had a problem, he complained, and whined, and got the opinions of a million different trolls before attempting to muddle through it. Now, he just shrugged it off, and fixed it. There was no need for anyone to worry about him-- they had more than enough to worry about.
Perhaps that's why he'd gone into hiding like this; so he could get out of their way and stop being a burden. It had certainly been a thought that had crossed his mind on more than one occasion. If he were about, then someone would have to watch out and make sure he didn't kill himself, someone would have to make it so that he didn't get in the way. All his hiding did, was let everyone else get on with their lives without having to worry about someone keeping him out of the way. Sollux had done that job for them.
There was a lull in his music where it reshuffled itself, and he took the time to wander further back. He opened his eyes, found it took more effort than he'd have liked, and let them slip closed. Looked like he would be sleeping again soon.
He took a step but then felt tired
He said "I'll rest a little while"
But when he tried to walk again
He wasn't a child
And all the people hurried fast real fast
And no one ever smiled
Oh, ouch, there went his heartstrings. Nothing like thinking about all your friends dying because you couldn't see enough of the future to save them. God, how many people had died, because of him? Died because of all this... crazy bullshit he'd unearthed. Aradia, Tavros, Vriska... Gamzee went crazy, Eridan went crazy, Karkat almost had to kill or watch as someone else killed Gamzee, and Sollux knew he'd have never been able to live through that...
He could see it now... Nepeta crawling through the air ducts, seeing all the destruction, keeping to her stealth, staying safe like she'd been told... watching her moirail confront someone who up until then had been completely harmless... watch as he was killed without a thought...
They started off beneath the knowledge tree
Then they chopped it down to make white picket fences
They marched along the railroad tracks
And smiled real wide for the camera lenses
They made it past enemy lines
Just to become enslaved in the assembly lines
The sharp taste of copper pulled him out of his heartache, and he tugged his bottom lip into his mouth, tongue running over the wound before sucking a bit. It stung, but then, he'd worried it pretty hard between his jaws, so there was no real surprise. His chest heaved, bringing in air and forcing it out with a streamlined efficiency. In, out, in, out, in out. His hands shook, reaching up to wrap around himself, to use it as some sort of... anchor. He swallowed hard and forced himself to his hands and knees, feeling over to where his pile was and pulling out one of the pillows to hold onto. He needed to hold onto something, he was shaking so badly... he curled around the pillow, buried his face in it, inhaled the faded scent of iron and fire.
Red then, it was red. Strider red, because this one he'd taken from the time god's room. He'd taken pillows from all the kids-- they could make more, it wasn't like it was that hard, it was just easier for him to steal them then admit he needed help to make one of his own. It didn't matter anyways; neither of the kids would have understood why he wanted what he did, not like he would, but the trolls would notice, and they'd look at him, and even when blind he could tell if someone was watching him, could tell someone was judging him with their eyes. He didn't want to find out if it was harder to know who was shooting him what looks, or if it was harder to not know at all.
But that didn't change the fact that this specific pillow was red, and while he'd retired his whole duality shtick way back when Ampora had knocked his eyes out, he was sort of regressing right now, and old habits probably wouldn't have helped, but it was either that, or find some way to knock himself out so he didn't have to deal with all these feelings.
So, red, Yes, red, the pillow was red. And what red lacked, was blue. His hands stumbled, waving out into the pile, grabbing a pillow, holding it to him, breathing in the scent of lilacs, and tossing it away like the plague. Then apples, and candy, and orange soda... pillows, cushions, none of them were blue, where was the blue, he knew he'd taken something from John's room, or Jane's. they were always decked in blue, and, FUCK, where had it all gone--
And then there it was, soft, cushy, with a soft scent of fresh air and motor oil. He held it tight, sitting on his knees, taking deep breaths, stumbling for the red, holding them tight and letting them balance him, letting them ease his tension. He'd almost forgotten what had gotten him so worked up in the first place.
"I was wondering that myself, actually."
Sollux tensed for the briefest of moments, because when had anyone gotten in here why had I not heard them how did they sneak past-- but then his shoulders slumped, and he chuckled into the pillows, and he felt the sobs rising, or at least they would be if he'd had anything to cry with... but none of it mattered.
Hah, it figured. His fingers dug into the soft material, anchoring himself to it, to the wind and fire; to the present. These two pillows always had been his favorite. They reminded him of the past without actually pulling into its depths. It's reminders were warm, comforting. Reminders of oil, iron... reminders of a world he'd created for himself in the corner of the meteor's controlblock, awaiting the death he was so sure Karma would reap from him.
"What are you mumbling about?" Came the voice again, and he shook his head. Damn, when he wanted to make himself hurt, he didn't pull out any stops.
"It's simple," he murmured, humoring himself by turning to vaguely face the direction his head was telling him it was coming from. His throat was a bit raspy, but clearing it didn't seem to help that much. "In my isolation, I've let my collective negativity swallow be whole like a voracious hissbeast with its prey, and in the process decided that my fucking up everything was not enough to torture me with, and went ot the new low of conjuring up a hallucination. That would be you,"
"You... think I'm... a hallucination,"
"Apparition, illusion, delusion, figment of my imagination, take your pick," he answered, leaning back against the wall, the cool of the metal seeping past his thin shirt and running laps up and down his spine. "Basically you're here to remind me that I suck, and have no real purpose anymore,"
"No real-- " there was a sigh, and Sollux could swear he was pinching the bridge of his nose. "Why me though?" He asked after a moment. "Surely Araida, or Peixes would fit this purpose, neigh, Ampora, if we are speaking of black matters,"
Sollux chuckled; christ, even when he was there to tear his heart out and rip it into proverbial pieces, he couldn't not be infuriatingly adorable. Neigh. "You know, Zahhak, for phantasmagoria crafted from my psyche, you're pretty clueless on what exactly I'm talking about," His head fell to his shoulder, and he held the pillows closer to him, taking in a deep breath to settle his nerves. Even if a figment, it was still rattling to actually be admitting this outside of his hidden dreams and longed for reality.
"When you hate yourself as much as I do, you build walls. The only way to hurt me is to get passed them. Aradia can do it, Karkat can do it, but for you, it had always been different," He was smiling, he knew it, and it hurt so much to know that he was so close, and so far, all in one breath, in one go.
"Nothing hurts quite like the slander of someone who you pity more than anything. Add on the fact that their death was ultimately the conclusion of several horrible life decisions on your part?" The lyrics floated up form his headphones, resting on his shoulders and making him shake only just a bit harder. God, it fit him so well. A warm pin was running down his cheek.
Blue lips
Blue veins
Blue, the color of our planet from far far away
"That rips out your soul. Real simple stuff."
Summery: While listening to his playlist again, Sollux lets his mind wander back to all that he'd lost and the very little that he'd gained. After that he has a hallucination that inadvertently coerces him into revealing something astonishing.
Word Count: 2285. we're up to 8850 total from these
part sollux part araida part equius
Sometimes when he wasn't sleeping, he would listen to his music and play out stories to go along with the songs. He would make up, he would remember, for all essential purposes, he'd dream.
Clap hands daddy comes
With a pocket full of plums
Don't Cry
Most days I'm okay
Come steal my
Heart
He wondered how his life would have turned out if their race had been allowed to continue. If the game had never taken place, would he have grown up? Would he have wasted his evenings coding viruses, and calling Aradia, and watching the stars with his lusus? Would he lived through to old age, only to die at 30, maybe 35 sweeps being used a spaceship-battery? Or would he have joined a bunch of rebels and fought for equality like his supposed ancestor had?
Clap hands daddy comes
With a pocket full of plums
Don't Cry
Flashback, twisted up
I'm so close to giving up
Don't Cry
No, if he knew himself well enough, he knew he'd more than likely end up killing himself in a freak psionic accident before he could even be of any use to anyone. Hell, maybe he'd relent to Aradia's pestering and finally join in on one of her and Tavros' flarp campaigns only to lose and get fed to Vriska's lusus.
Forgive me if I cannot try any harder
You make it seem like everything I do means nothing at all
As complications go this can't get any sweeter
Don't Cry
But it was nice to think he could have lived a long life with Aradia, and Karkat, and that he could have made a difference, or had someone who cared enough to miss him when he was gone. He didn't really have that luxury now. Sure there were people who cared about him, but... well, he couldn't die, not really, so why would anyone get worked up over the possibility of it? Can't worry about death of you're not even sure if you can die.
The song changed to something more upbeat, but casual. It was a pretty good transition of his mood and thoughts, actually, easing him into all that he'd managed to fuck up. There had been so much to do, and so many wrong turns he could have taken, he was still in denial that he'd actually managed to make it to now. First the game, creating that had been a disaster; even letting Vriska know he existed was bad too, that had led to Aradia's death, and he sure as hell wasn't over that yet, no matter how many times she told him it wasn't his fault, because it was. It clearly was, and if he'd had any psychic strength to his name, he should have been able to block the control... or at least get as far away from the mind honey, or something, christ.
You're a beautiful
A beautiful fucked up man
You're setting up your
Razor wire shrine
And then when the game had started, and he got jealous, of all things. It had really been a dick move, leading Feferi on like that, but... to be honest, it was more unconscious at first, so it wasn't like he'd outright thought 'I'll make Feferi think we're dating to make Aradia jealous' or anything dumb like that. He wouldn't even have gone through with the idea if he'd consciously thought it. It was just that everything had made him so angry... And then when she came to him and hugged him, and exploded...
He felt his heart clench tightly, his jaw tightened, and for all intent and purposes, he was crying. The only thing missing was tears, but lack of eyes made tears a bit of an impossibility. He could bleed from his eye sockets-- but bleeding from the eye sockets and crying weren't really the same thing.
He cleared his throat a bit, taking a breath and coughing slightly when dust entered his wind chute. Even with the air ducts, it had started to get a bit stuffy, so he'd cracked the ceiling panel ever so slightly once he made sure no one was about the nutrition block. There was no need to open it all the way, he didn't want his position to be given away so soon. He wasn't even really sure what he was doing up here, but it was comfortable, and warm, and while he didn't exactly feel safer, at least he didn't have to put up with pretending that everything was alright and hunky-dory.
Well, that wasn't really fair, everything was alright; at least, it was now. He'd noticed that the biggest change losing his eyesight had brought him was how he went about things. Before hand, if he had a problem, he complained, and whined, and got the opinions of a million different trolls before attempting to muddle through it. Now, he just shrugged it off, and fixed it. There was no need for anyone to worry about him-- they had more than enough to worry about.
Perhaps that's why he'd gone into hiding like this; so he could get out of their way and stop being a burden. It had certainly been a thought that had crossed his mind on more than one occasion. If he were about, then someone would have to watch out and make sure he didn't kill himself, someone would have to make it so that he didn't get in the way. All his hiding did, was let everyone else get on with their lives without having to worry about someone keeping him out of the way. Sollux had done that job for them.
There was a lull in his music where it reshuffled itself, and he took the time to wander further back. He opened his eyes, found it took more effort than he'd have liked, and let them slip closed. Looked like he would be sleeping again soon.
He took a step but then felt tired
He said "I'll rest a little while"
But when he tried to walk again
He wasn't a child
And all the people hurried fast real fast
And no one ever smiled
Oh, ouch, there went his heartstrings. Nothing like thinking about all your friends dying because you couldn't see enough of the future to save them. God, how many people had died, because of him? Died because of all this... crazy bullshit he'd unearthed. Aradia, Tavros, Vriska... Gamzee went crazy, Eridan went crazy, Karkat almost had to kill or watch as someone else killed Gamzee, and Sollux knew he'd have never been able to live through that...
He could see it now... Nepeta crawling through the air ducts, seeing all the destruction, keeping to her stealth, staying safe like she'd been told... watching her moirail confront someone who up until then had been completely harmless... watch as he was killed without a thought...
They started off beneath the knowledge tree
Then they chopped it down to make white picket fences
They marched along the railroad tracks
And smiled real wide for the camera lenses
They made it past enemy lines
Just to become enslaved in the assembly lines
The sharp taste of copper pulled him out of his heartache, and he tugged his bottom lip into his mouth, tongue running over the wound before sucking a bit. It stung, but then, he'd worried it pretty hard between his jaws, so there was no real surprise. His chest heaved, bringing in air and forcing it out with a streamlined efficiency. In, out, in, out, in out. His hands shook, reaching up to wrap around himself, to use it as some sort of... anchor. He swallowed hard and forced himself to his hands and knees, feeling over to where his pile was and pulling out one of the pillows to hold onto. He needed to hold onto something, he was shaking so badly... he curled around the pillow, buried his face in it, inhaled the faded scent of iron and fire.
Red then, it was red. Strider red, because this one he'd taken from the time god's room. He'd taken pillows from all the kids-- they could make more, it wasn't like it was that hard, it was just easier for him to steal them then admit he needed help to make one of his own. It didn't matter anyways; neither of the kids would have understood why he wanted what he did, not like he would, but the trolls would notice, and they'd look at him, and even when blind he could tell if someone was watching him, could tell someone was judging him with their eyes. He didn't want to find out if it was harder to know who was shooting him what looks, or if it was harder to not know at all.
But that didn't change the fact that this specific pillow was red, and while he'd retired his whole duality shtick way back when Ampora had knocked his eyes out, he was sort of regressing right now, and old habits probably wouldn't have helped, but it was either that, or find some way to knock himself out so he didn't have to deal with all these feelings.
So, red, Yes, red, the pillow was red. And what red lacked, was blue. His hands stumbled, waving out into the pile, grabbing a pillow, holding it to him, breathing in the scent of lilacs, and tossing it away like the plague. Then apples, and candy, and orange soda... pillows, cushions, none of them were blue, where was the blue, he knew he'd taken something from John's room, or Jane's. they were always decked in blue, and, FUCK, where had it all gone--
And then there it was, soft, cushy, with a soft scent of fresh air and motor oil. He held it tight, sitting on his knees, taking deep breaths, stumbling for the red, holding them tight and letting them balance him, letting them ease his tension. He'd almost forgotten what had gotten him so worked up in the first place.
"I was wondering that myself, actually."
Sollux tensed for the briefest of moments, because when had anyone gotten in here why had I not heard them how did they sneak past-- but then his shoulders slumped, and he chuckled into the pillows, and he felt the sobs rising, or at least they would be if he'd had anything to cry with... but none of it mattered.
Hah, it figured. His fingers dug into the soft material, anchoring himself to it, to the wind and fire; to the present. These two pillows always had been his favorite. They reminded him of the past without actually pulling into its depths. It's reminders were warm, comforting. Reminders of oil, iron... reminders of a world he'd created for himself in the corner of the meteor's controlblock, awaiting the death he was so sure Karma would reap from him.
"What are you mumbling about?" Came the voice again, and he shook his head. Damn, when he wanted to make himself hurt, he didn't pull out any stops.
"It's simple," he murmured, humoring himself by turning to vaguely face the direction his head was telling him it was coming from. His throat was a bit raspy, but clearing it didn't seem to help that much. "In my isolation, I've let my collective negativity swallow be whole like a voracious hissbeast with its prey, and in the process decided that my fucking up everything was not enough to torture me with, and went ot the new low of conjuring up a hallucination. That would be you,"
"You... think I'm... a hallucination,"
"Apparition, illusion, delusion, figment of my imagination, take your pick," he answered, leaning back against the wall, the cool of the metal seeping past his thin shirt and running laps up and down his spine. "Basically you're here to remind me that I suck, and have no real purpose anymore,"
"No real-- " there was a sigh, and Sollux could swear he was pinching the bridge of his nose. "Why me though?" He asked after a moment. "Surely Araida, or Peixes would fit this purpose, neigh, Ampora, if we are speaking of black matters,"
Sollux chuckled; christ, even when he was there to tear his heart out and rip it into proverbial pieces, he couldn't not be infuriatingly adorable. Neigh. "You know, Zahhak, for phantasmagoria crafted from my psyche, you're pretty clueless on what exactly I'm talking about," His head fell to his shoulder, and he held the pillows closer to him, taking in a deep breath to settle his nerves. Even if a figment, it was still rattling to actually be admitting this outside of his hidden dreams and longed for reality.
"When you hate yourself as much as I do, you build walls. The only way to hurt me is to get passed them. Aradia can do it, Karkat can do it, but for you, it had always been different," He was smiling, he knew it, and it hurt so much to know that he was so close, and so far, all in one breath, in one go.
"Nothing hurts quite like the slander of someone who you pity more than anything. Add on the fact that their death was ultimately the conclusion of several horrible life decisions on your part?" The lyrics floated up form his headphones, resting on his shoulders and making him shake only just a bit harder. God, it fit him so well. A warm pin was running down his cheek.
Blue lips
Blue veins
Blue, the color of our planet from far far away
"That rips out your soul. Real simple stuff."
