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Chapter Text

You can't help the way your eyes track the trolley rolling down the aisle. Can't help the way your throat clenches, fingers beginning to tremble. You know better than to ask the flight attendant for what you need - you've already heard someone else try the same, and the rebuke the troll had received had been loud and clear.

Your name is Roxy Lalonde. You are eighteen years old. You just woke up from a nap. You have been on this private plane for eight hours, without any access to alcohol since your mom's publicist dropped you off at the gate. You think you might be about to go into withdrawal, surrounded by strangers.

Talk about a bad way to start your so-called summer “vacation.”

The plane is big: big enough that you were able to get a row to yourself. From the looks of it, you're not the only one sitting alone, either -- all of the other passengers, who seem to be kids your age, tended to either bunch close together, or get seats far away from everyone else.

The woman pushing the trolley seems to notice your gaze, because as she passes you by, she holds out a small water bottle and a plate of breakfast food. She doesn't speak, and there isn't a name tag on her sky blue blouse, just the same green spirographic logo you saw on the outside of the plane, the same logo stamped on the blankets and headphones and all the rest of of the bits and bobs you'd expect to see stamped Delta or Spirit. You knew you were being sent somewhere swanky, but you didn't realize it was private plane swanky.

You give her a smile, trying to be nice. It wasn't her fault you were being shipped away.

ROXY: tank u
ROXY: *thank u

She smiles back at you, nodding slightly. You try to keep your fingers still as you take what she's offering, and if she notices the effort it takes, she doesn't comment. You quickly busy yourself wrestling the tray up so you can put down your food, and she continues on her way, down towards the back of the plane.

Ding-dong, comes the sound of the intercom.

PLANE-MAID: May I have your attention please?

You turn towards the front of the plane. Another flight attendant, taller than the first, is holding a little device to her mouth, the black wire spiraling up and behind her.

PLANE-MAID: Good morning everyone!
PLANE-MAID: I'm an employee of Skaian Summer Sanctuary, and I'm here to welcome you on your first step towards healing!

The plane erupts into noise - boos, hisses, snickers, complaints. The flight attendant patiently waits for it to die out.

PLANE-MAID: Now, now, don't be like that. Healing can be beautiful!

Someone yells out at her. You can’t exactly make out what’s being said, but you think it’s something about not wanting to be here. Her eyes narrow. You almost recoil at the sight of them, flinty and unyielding.

PLANE-MAID: now listen. i understand this may be difficult for some of you to understand but
PLANE-MAID: all of you are here for a reason
PLANE-MAID: maybe you hurt someone, maybe you hurt yourself
PLANE-MAID: some of you had a little trouble with the law
PLANE-MAID: some of you are struggling with substance abuse
PLANE-MAID: you're all suffering in some way
PLANE-MAID: someone in your life wants you to get better
PLANE-MAID: either that, or you're part of the juvenile offender deferral program, and we're your last chance before they start charging you as an adult

There's a brief pause, and you look around nervously, seeing the teens around you in a new light. You thought everyone was in the same boat as you, and this was just rehab for rich kids. What the hell is this place?

When the woman speaks again, her voice is chipper once more.

PLANE-MAID: We can't fix you all in a day, of course.
PLANE-MAID: Which is why the Skaian Summer Sanctuary is a three month intensive program!
PLANE-MAID: We operate out of a private island, where there's no distractions to get in the way of your healing journey.
PLANE-MAID: Thats why those of you with psychic gifts have been, temporarily, I assure you, liberated from the burden of them!
PLANE-MAID: The psychic suppressors on your horns are not harmful.
PLANE-MAID: Quite the opposite, really.
PLANE-MAID: They're here to help put everyone on equal footing.

She pauses for a moment, and you glance around. There's a troll sitting diagonal to you, and you can see a silver bracelet-thingy around the base of the horn. The troll tugs at it, her face scrunched up in distaste.

PLANE-MAID: Our program director believes that too much outside influence can be harmful.
PLANE-MAID: My associate is coming down the aisle with a trolley cart.
PLANE-MAID: She's going to collect the rest of your electronic devices.
PLANE-MAID: Where we're going, you won't be needing them.

Another wave of shouts sweeps the plane, and you're right there with them.

ROXY: uhhhhhh wtf???? Nah, naaaah, nope!!

Even as you're speaking, you're scrambling, shoving your plate onto the seat next to you so you can leap up and grab your bag from the overhead compartment. You yank it down, feeling dread in your throat. The rest of your devices, the woman said.

The bag is too light, and even as you paw through everything, you know what you won't find. Your laptop, and your phone, are both gone. From the indignant shouts around you, the others have realized the same.

PLANE-MAID: We've already taken the liberty of confiscating anything we considered contraband from your bags last night.
PLANE-MAID: Rest assured, we didn't go through your pockets.
PLANE-MAID: We trust you to behave maturely and turn whatever else you have over.

One of the other teens stands up, bag in hand. It's the same troll boy who tried to ask for a drink earlier, and his hair is a wild halo around his head.

GAMZEE: HeY, mOtHeRfUcKeRs, I dOn’T mEaN tO bE mOtHeRfUcKiN pReSuMpTiVe AbOuT sHiT.
GAMZEE: i GeT yOu, YoU wAnT uS tO bE oN mOtHeRfUcKiN jOuRnEyS oF tHe MiNd.
GAMZEE: HeAlInG aNd ShIt.
GAMZEE: sO i DoN’t WaNt To Be ThRoWiN oUt AcCuSaTiOnS aBoUt NoThInG, sInCe YoU’rE sO cLeAr AbOuT yOuR mOtHeRfUcKiNg PoSiTiVe InTeNtIoNs.
GAMZEE: BuT dId YoU mOtHeRfUcKeRs HaPpEn To CoNfIsCaTe My SoPoR sUpPlEmEnTs WhIlE yOu WeRe SwEePiNg FoR oUr SwEeT eLeCtRoNiC lOoT?

Silence in the cabin. The Plane Maid stares this kid down, and you feel like the air pressure increases by itself.

She stares.

He stares back. One of his eyebrows slowly raises itself to meet his forehead.

Finally, though, it seems like something cracks:

PLANE-MAID: Our program doesn’t exactly believe in the -- the use of prescription medication as decided by external doctors--
GAMZEE: you
GAMZEE: MOTHERFUCKING
GAMZEE: idiots.

He fucking leaps for her, and all hell breaks loose.

He grabs her by the arms and screams in her face incoherently. Almost immediately, two men rush from the employee zone, grappling for the teen, who thrashes wildly. The clown boy’s fist slams into a nose, and someone shrieks as blood splatters anyone sitting near the front.

Meanwhile, his buddy who he’d been sitting with stands up, confused outrage flickering on his face.

KARKAT: YOU MORONS SERIOUSLY TOOK HIS MOOD STABILIZERS?

A heavyset troll guy joins the fight, attacking one of the men from behind and stopping him from grabbing the lankier boy's arms. The man turns around and shoves his assailant into the wall, and the boy's head hits with a thump.

AERONAUT-RUFFIAN: back to your seats!

You're standing, hands shaking, stomach weak. You're surrounded by crazy people, and you don't know what to do. The ruffian slaps the boy across the face, and he looks dazed.

ROXY: jeus christ STOP FUCKING HITTIN HIM
ROXY: WTF IS HAPPENING

You shout, but you're just one voice among many. You surge forward, panic moving you faster than your thoughts are moving. What are you going to do?

JOHN: WELCOME TO CON AIR, MOTHER FUCKERS!

It seems you're not the only one who wants to do something, because half the people around you do the same, standing and running towards the front of the plane. The aisle isn't wide enough for you to push past them all, and you curse your choice of seat near the back.

You are close enough, however, to see someone slip past the fight and into the employee section of the plane. It isn't one of the flight attendants, it's another teenager. You aren't sure if it was a troll or just a human with black hair, but whoever they are, they're up to no good. And the adults, more concerned with their hapless attempts to contain the eruption of violence, don't notice.

????: I'M TURNING THIS THING AROUND!

You don't know how, but you hear their words. You gasp, stumbling into the row to your right, your own seat now several rows behind you. A young woman with electric blue eyes shrieks and scrambles away from you, squishing herself against the window seat.

JANE: are you real?

Holy shit. You know that voice.

ROXY: gutsyGumshoe? No fucking way!

You gape at your online friend, whose chest is heaving with panic. Somewhere behind you, you think you hear crying. And up ahead, something electronic is wailing, the sort of noise that has you buckling your seatbelt and jamming the button for the little mask thingy. It takes a few tries to pop out.

JANE: tipsyGnostalgic, how the heck are you here?
JANE: why the heck are you here?!?

You feel the plane shudder, and somehow, it gets even fucking louder. People are shrieking in fear, and your head is lanced with pain with each vocalization. You struggle for words, eventually giving up and launching yourself sideways, letting your lanky figure propel you close enough to Gumshoe that you can grab her seatbelt, shoving it into place.

ROXY: got 2 tipsy, girlfronnd
ROXY: friend* lol
ROXY: u know how it is

You try for a saucy wink, but it doesn't seem to land. Might as well be direct, you think, grimacing as the plane shakes again.

ROXY: get ur oxygen mask out! Someone's fucking w/ the pilots!

You pitch your voice to carry, and as Gumshoe manages to get her mask down, you look around. Half the people on the plane seem to be standing, but some of them are diving into seats, or maybe falling into them, as the plane seems to buck under them.

JADE: we're losing altitude!

Someone screams, and you whip your head back towards Gumshoe, back towards the window. Sure enough, the clouds are whipping past, and a klaxon begins to blare, red lights flashing.

WINGMAN-VETERAN: brace, brace, brace
WINGMAN-VETERAN: seatbelts on, chest to knees, hands on ankles!

There's a new voice over the intercom, and you gasp, mask forgotten, hastily complying. Your breathing is shallow, dark spots flashing across your vision. You hear a sob beside you, and you struggle to hold back your own. You don't have the oxygen to spare on tears, and the shaking is getting worse. You hear the sound of a body crashing to the floor, and you squeeze your eyes shut. You-

When you wake up, your feet are wet. You jerk up, gasping as the motion sends a twinge of pain through your back. You reach for the spot, feeling the edges of a long cut across your shoulders, your shirt sticky with blood.

ROXY: gumshoe?

You look to your friend, finding her slumped over, unconscious. You unbuckle your belt, reaching over and shaking her. It takes a few horrible moments before she wakes up.

JANE: Oh my god...

You help her unbuckle, and the two of you stand on unsteady feet. Your head is spinning, and you don't know whether to blame the withdrawals, the impact, or the blood loss. From the way her eyes widen as she glimpses your back, you know it's bad, but you don't have time for the pain.

JANE: We're in the ocean

You look down at the water lapping at your feet. It's tinged pink, the color sinking into your white sneakers.

ROXY: fuck
ROXY: now wut?

As though summoned by the question, a younger girl appears, standing just in front of your row. She's human, with long dark hair and round glasses. She's got a military backpack on her shoulders, and an airplane seat cushion in her hands. There's blood on her face from where her glasses have cut into the bridge of her nose and her cheeks, and bruises are already forming there.

JADE: airplane cushions double as flotation devices. Grab yours, and quickly!

You do as she says, finding that the cushion pulls up easily. You scoot into the aisle, taking a few steps back, giving Gumshoe room to get out. You look toward the front of the plane, and gasp. The water is much deeper there, and you can see why - the nose of the plane is gone entirely. One of the male employees is splayed out over the edge, and the water is dark and red around him. You gulp, turning away.

JADE: the nose sank already, and we aren't far behind
JADE: if your bags are easily accessible and you're strong enough to swim with them, grab them now.
JADE: we're leaving out the back
JADE: the adults-

The girl's voice breaks.

JADE: none of them were in seats
JADE: i checked anyway, but

Her face is pale, and she swallows roughly.

JADE: there's nothing we can do for them
JADE: so I'm focusing my efforts on the rest of us

You don't know this girl from Adam, but you have the overwhelming urge to hug her. She can't be older than fifteen, you think, and yet she's level headed, putting herself in further danger to make sure everyone else can get out. It's very brave.

You wipe away the tears welling in your eyes, and smile at her.

ROXY: what can i do to help?
ROXY: im roxy, btw

You gesture at Gumshoe, who is now standing between you two. She has a shiny red hardtop suitcase by the handle, her seat cushion tucked under her arm.

ROXY: this is my friend-
JANE: Jane Crocker, of Crocker Corp

You raise your eyebrows, impressed. No wonder she never shared more than her voice and her screen name.

The plane shudders again, and the younger girl looks sheepish as she replies.

JADE: jade.... harley
JANE: Of the Skaianet Harleys?

Jane (Jane! You know her name!) speaks sharply, and you inhale through your teeth. This shitty rehab is run by her family's company. Shit.

JADE: try not to hold it against me until we've gotten somewhere safe, okay?

Jade's eyes go to Jane's suitcase, then she speaks hesitantly.

JADE: that's going to be too bulky to swim with

Jane pats the spoon logo on the suitcase proudly.

JANE: It's a top of the line CrockerCase WaterProof CarryOn 3000, with the new-and-improved floatation shell, rated for 35 pounds of luggage and a 200 pound traveler to boot.
JANE: Don't worry about my bag
JANE: What can we do to help?

You're pretty sure that Jane just straight-up quoted an ad at you, and Jade looks like she wants to protest further, but the plane makes a sharp noise of tearing metal, and you hear a splash that shakes the plane and sends a new surge of water to cover your ankles.

You all look towards the sound, and watch through one of the windows as the left wing of the plane begins to sink.

JADE: i was near the front, so I've already gotten everyone above your row up and out.
JADE: but you guys can help me with the last few?
ROXY: sure!

You agree easily, turning towards the back of the plane. The door is that way, and so is your bag. You're trying not to freak the fuck out, but you don't want to be in this death trap any longer than you have to.
You hustle back to your row, pulling your bag up from where it fell on the floor. It's soaked, and some of your clothes are spilling out. You shove them back in and zip it as best you can manage.

FEFERI: Oh s)(ell, I don't think I can swim with you and the c)(air!

The next row is empty, but when you get to the one after that, you find a troll girl standing over a troll boy, her hands on the handles of a wheelchair. Her horns are tall, curving in than back out again. The boy's horns jut out from the sides of his head. He has one of those psychic suppressors on his horn, but she doesn't.

TAVROS: oH, uHHHHH, oKAY....
TAVROS: i GUESS WE CAN, lEAVE IT, iF WE HAVE TO?

The boy's voice is soft and hesitant, and he doesn't seem like he really wants to leave it.

ROXY: uh, not 2 interrupt or anything, but I have an idea

The two trolls turn to look at you. You gesture at Jane, who has come up behind you.

ROXY: my friend's bag floats, so why don't we put ur chair on top of it?
ROXY: it folds, rite?

The boy nods, and the girl has to edge into the row opposite to avoid his large horns.

TAVROS: tHAT WOULD BE, rEALLY NICE OF YOU, tHANKS

He gestures at his legs, and you notice a large bruise on his arm.

TAVROS: i CANT GET AROUND WITHOUT IT

You nod in understanding, and look at the troll girl hesitantly. How is she going to swim with him, without him dragging her down?

FEFERI: Great!
FEFERI: Now, )(op in so I can get you to the door.
FEFERI: Seadweller strengt)( isn't much to write home about until I'm acshoally in the water!

She giggles, which is totally out of place for the situation, but you see the gills on her neck as she moves to help the boy into his chair. He has a small, ratty backpack, which he clutches to his chest. The girl has a big rubbery bag that she's draped from the handles of the chair.

You all progress slowly towards the exit, hampered by the fact that the boy has to tilt his head awkwardly to avoid clipping his horns on the seats and the girl's hesitance as she pushes his chair. You start to chew your lip anxiously.

ROSE: Hello?
ROSE: A little help here?

The voice comes from the bathroom, located behind the exit, in the tail of the plane. It's muffled, both because the door is shut and because the trolley is leaning against it, presumably trapping her inside. You look down at the way it's tilting, and wince.

The woman who'd been pushing the cart is underneath it, and her face is totally underwater.

JADE: jane, help these two with the chair,
JADE: roxy, help me move...
JADE: the blockage

Jade gives you orders, and grateful she's taking charge, you listen, worming past the trolls to get closer to the bathroom door.

ROXY: we hear u!
ROXY: r u hurt?

There's silence for a moment, and then a choked sound, half laughter and half a sob.

ROSE: I'm not telling you until you open that door!

The voice has an edge of panic to it, and you wonder what she's thinking. Does she think you'll leave her behind if you know she's injured?

ROXY: we're working on it!
ROXY: trolley cart is in the way

Jade comes up next to you, and you both try to get the cart upright. The body underneath it makes the task difficult, and it takes a few minutes of finagling to get the surprisingly heavy cart up and out of the way.

The girl on the other side slams against the door, and it opens just a crack, before being stopped by the weight of the body on the floor.

You look down at it, and feel bile in your throat.

The woman's head is at an unnatural angle, and blood swirls around your feet as you step towards her.

ROSE: Why can't I open it?

The girl's voice is shrill, and your force down your disgust. You have to help her.

JADE: one more obstacle!

Jade's voice is calm and reassuring, and she puts her hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently. She pitches her voice into a whisper, so the trapped girl can't hear.

JADE: it's okay
JADE: nothing we will do is going to hurt her
JADE: she's just...
JADE: like a really heavy mannequin
JADE: and right now, there's a kid behind that door
JADE: she's scared, maybe hurt
JADE: and she needs our help
JADE: all we have to do is move her
JADE: just a few feet
JADE: and then we can get the door open

You marvel at Jade, at her strength. You really don't want to touch the body, but she's right. You can't leave this girl behind.

JADE: i'll take the arms, you get the legs

You nod, unable to speak, and gingerly make your way towards the feet. Jade clears her throat, then pitches her voice up.

JADE: hang in there, okay?

You lean down, gently grabbing the woman's ankles. You try not to think about it.

JADE: on three

You brace, listening to the count down.

JADE: three
JADE: two
JADE: one
JADE: up!

You both lift, not very high, but enough that you're able to shuffle forward as Jade backs up. You're both bowed over, and you try to focus on keeping pace with her.

In the end, it doesn't take very long to get the bathroom clear, and you gently set down your cargo a few rows past the back exit, where Jane is waiting. You quickly turn your back on the body, and come back towards the exit. The trolls are long gone, but the wheelchair is folded, with seatbelt straps tying it and a few extra seat cushions to the cargo.

JADE: it's clear!

No sooner than she speaks, the bathroom door bursts open, and a girl stumbles out, clutching her arm to her chest. You think it might be broken, but she curls up defensively, and you don't get a good look at it. Her eyes flash like amethysts.

ROSE: How, exactly, are we getting out of here?

She looks ready for a fight, and you put your hands up placatingly.

ROXY: gotta swim unfortunately
ROXY: lemme just,,,

You reach into a row and find another cushion, which you pull up and offer to the girl. She looks down at it as though it might bite her.

JADE: hey guys?
JADE: water's rising!
JADE: so maybe you should take the floaty
JADE: and we can all get the heck out of here!

The girl takes the cushion, and joins Jane at the open door. You hastily follow, retrieving your own cushion and bag.

JADE: everyone know how to swim?

You all make varying noises of assent and line up together, looking out at the water. You can see, some distance ahead, a few orange shapes - you think it's the long horns of the troll boy, jutting out to the sides.

Beyond them, maybe the same distance ahead of them as they are ahead of the plane, you can see the golden sands and green trees of an island. There's people on the shore - you can't tell how many from this distance, but presumably it's the rest of the passengers.

ROSE: Well, this should be fun.

The blonde clutches the cushion to her chest, and jumps in, kicking with choppy, erratic motions. She's clearly not a good swimmer. She also doesn't wait for you guys, but you can't really begrudge her. You have the feeling you'll catch up with her pretty soon.

You sling your bag across your shoulder, hissing at the fresh stab of pain from your injuries. You'd almost forgotten the cut, with all the chaos.

You jump in, shoving away from the plane as you fall. You hit the water with a splash, and gasp.

ROXY: fuck thats cold!

You tread water, turning around and reaching back at Jane. The air outside the plane is warm and balmy, which makes the contrast with the water all the more surprising.

ROXY: slide the suitcase in, i'll hold it until you're ready!

Jane and Jade kneel down, together pushing the suitcase over the lip of the plane door. There isn't much of a drop into the water at this point, but you don't want the wheelchair to get soaked, so you're careful to stabilize the package.

ROXY: well shit, it rly does float!
JANE: Told you

You slide the suitcase through the water, treading backwards to give the other two room. They both jump in, and you're honestly a bit surprised at how quickly Jade pops back up, even with her bulky bag.

JADE: i'm going to catch up with her
JADE: she might need a bit of help

The younger girl had swapped her glasses for goggles when you weren't looking, and she looks at you both with a serious expression.

JADE: the shore can't be more than a mile out
JADE: shouldn't take more than half an hour for you guys
JADE: the goal is to keep moving
JADE: you're gonna get cold and you're gonna get tired
JADE: but you can't rest for too long
JADE: even in the summer, hypothermia is a risk
JADE: got it?

You didn't even think of that. You just figured you were being kinda a wimp about the water temp.

ROXY: got it!
JANE: Understood
JADE: great
JADE: see you at the shore

Jade begins to swim away from you both, making long, practiced strokes. You realize belatedly that the seat cushion she took is clipped to her backpack - she's not relying on the floatation device at all, probably because she can actually swim worth a damn.

JANE: Let's both use my suitcase, and push it along in front of us

You look over at her, seeing how nervous she looks. It... is a lot of stuff for one person, now that you think about it.

ROXY: good idea!

The two of you maneuver the suitcase in front of you, and you push your cushion under your torso, unsure where the hell else to put it, and put your arms through the straps. Jane does the same, and then, you start swimming.

You haven't caught up to the younger girls. Apparently, pushing a big fuckoff suitcase with a wheelchair strapped to it is a bit hard to do quickly. Who knew!

You'd started off trying to talk to her, but Jane didn't really seem interested, and soon, your breath was too labored to keep up a one-sided conversation.

You've also started to really feel the weight of your bag. It was easy enough to ignore, at first, but now the strap digs into the injury on your shoulders and weighs you down like a rock. You can't remember what was in it anymore, but you're seriously considering abandoning the fucking thing.

JANE: Can we-

She takes another gulp of air, then continues.

JANE: Can we stop, just for a beat?
JANE: I need a breather
ROXY: we aren't supposed to...

Even as you say it, you're slowing down. You need a breather too.

ROXY: just for a min tho, kay?
ROXY: you heard jade

You haven't been paying super attention to how far away your goal is, and it's not like you've been keeping track of time, either, so you take the opportunity to lean around the bulk of your package. The shore is much closer, thank fuck, but when you look back at the plane, you don't think you're closer to shore than where you came from. You're only halfway there.

The realization makes your stomach sink. You're operating on fumes, having missed out on breakfast. Your limbs are shaky with exhaustion, with withdrawals, with fear, with pain. You're not sure you have another span of that distance, and the bag on your shoulder is dragging you down further.

ROXY: ykno what?
ROXY: im adding my bag to the pile

You gently let go of the suitcase, and begin the arduous process of untangling yourself from all these straps. Your clothes drag heavily, and the bag is actually under the cushion straps, so you have to, for a precarious moment, free yourself from it entirely in order to get the bag off your shoulder.

And suddenly, you're treading water without anything to hold you up, and the strap of your heavy fucking bag is in your hands, dragging you down.

It happens so fast.

One moment you're treading water, trying to figure out how to sling your waterlogged bag up and on top of the stack of crap.

The next, your head slips beneath the waves and you're going down.

It takes you far too many seconds to get a grasp on what's happening, your limbs slow to respond as the weight of it all drags you further into the depths.

You thrash, trying to fight back, but you aren't making headway, and your lungs begin to burn. Your jerky, panicked movements dislodge your shoes, and they quickly sink out of sight. You didn't know it was so deep...

Fuck it. Who needs clothes anyway?

You release the bag, and just like that, you feel so much lighter. You kick, and this time, you feel it, feel the force propelling you upward. You reach up, focusing on the light above the water, kicking and paddling and trying to keep the air inside just a little longer.

There's a hand reaching down, another face staring at yours.

Your fingers brush against hers, and Jane heaves, pulling you those last precious feet up and out of the water.

You burst from the surface, mouth gaping on instinct, and you gasp for air, sparkles dancing in your eyes.

You crash down, and for a moment you fear you're going under again, but Jane has you by the arm, and drags you bodily onto the suitcase. You cling to it, shaking all over, and try to catch your breath.

JANE: Thank god
JANE: I thought you were a gonner!

You taste the air in your lungs, and croak out a response.

ROXY: i think i almost was, tbh

It takes much longer to make the second leg of your journey, even without the weight of all your shit. But eventually, your tired legs brush against the bottom, and you're able to, finally, stand up.

The slope is slow and gradual, and you spend a good couple minutes dragging your feet through chin height, then chest height, then waist height water.

FEFERI: You made it!

The troll girl, the seadweller who carried the boy on her back, trots into the water to meet you when you're in the home stretch, the beach a handful of yards away.

She grins, seeming way too chipper, and gently tugs the suitcase from your shared grasp.

FEFERI: I'll take this, you gills look like you could use a break!
ROXY: you can say that again!
JANE: Thank you

The two of you stumble after her as she carries the suitcase, humming a tune. While she strides up the beach towards the big-horned boy, you two pause as soon as you get to dry ground, flopping down on the sand just past the waterline.

JADE: here, split this

Jade is kneeling down next to you, holding out a small disposable water bottle. You both reach for it at the same time, and Jane sheepishly acquiesces, letting you take the first sip.

God, you needed that.

It takes every ounce of your restraint to not drain the bottle yourself, and you allow only two sips before passing it to your friend.

While she drinks, you look around.

The beach is scattered with bedraggled teenagers. Some of them are sitting in groups, others pacing in the sand. Others still lay down on the sand, and you're not sure if they're just exhausted or... something else. You see blood, and bruises, and a few makeshift splints. You hear quiet sobs and angry whispers.

You turn back, facing the shore.

In the distance, you can see the plane. There's not much left above the waterline, and it is sinking faster as you watch. The cabin must be full of water, by this point.

Beyond the plane, you don't see anything. You stand, leaning forward, squinting at the glare of the sun reflected off the water. The horizon stretches out into the distance, until the sky blurs into the waves and all you can see is blue.

You're stranded, you realize suddenly. Stranded who knows where, in the middle of the pacific. Stranded on your way to the kind of place where you aren't expected to call home. How long, you wonder, until someone notices? How long until your mom thinks to worry?

Your knees give out, and you flop back down. Jane presses the water into your hand, and you clutch it, overwhelmed with the enormity of the situation.

You're stranded, and you don't know how you're getting home.

Chapter Text

????: I'M TURNING THIS THING AROUND!

You've fucked around with flight simulators before this. Not in preparation, no, you haven't been allowed to touch computers since you got arrested. More so out of boredom, and a brief phase where you wanted to be a pilot. Now you can add hijacking a plane to your list of crimes against the government. Would this be considered an upgrade from trying (and succeeding) to leak the weapons specs from top-secret military documents in a Helldivers II Discord to win an argument? Or is plane-jacking about on-par with that? Either way, you're walking away from this shit still labeled as much of a domestic terrorist as you were when you were escorted onto the plane however fucking long ago it was.

Cronus is behind you wrestling with the co-pilot. You had already knocked out and thrown the pilot out of the seat and hopped into the cockpit. The sun is right in your fucking eyes, only just barely mitigated by your shades. Speaking of, the only reason you were allowed to bring them at all is because they're prescription. Your parents had to get a copy of it from your optometrist so this sketchy-ass “Troubled Teen Camp” couldn't take them like they did with the other kid's mood-stabilizers. Fucking ablist pricks.

CRONUS: howv's it comin’, doll?

You blow your box-black hair out of your eyes and turn off the ACFS, grabbing the yoke and pulling as hard as you can to turn this motherfucker around. Holy shit this is harder to move than you thought it would be.

DIRK: Fuck off Ampora, give me a minute to figure out the controls. This ain't exactly a Cessna!

That was three hours ago. If it wasn't fucking obvious enough, you crashed the damn plane and nearly drowned for your trouble. As much as Cronus is an irritating fuckstick about being “humankin” or whatever, he's still a seadweller. You would be fifty leagues under the sea right now if he hadn't grabbed your unconscious ass out of the captain's chair and dragged you to an exit. Now you're nursing a pounding headache and picking at a pathetically small bag of on-flight complimentary Skaianet branded peanuts Crocker had fished out of her fuck-off huge suitcase.

JADE: okay! now that everybody is present and accounted for, who all has some kind of training or knowledge about surviving in the woods?
JADE: anything is helpful right now. if you were in some kind of scout troop, or did camping for fun, whatever! i need to know what everybody can do so we can teach everybody else!

An otter of a boy about your age, maybe a little older, raises his hand from where he sits on a fallen log.

JAKE: I might know a thing or two about surviving in the wilderness?

The Harley girl beckons him forward, and a few others start to go with her before another girl, a troll this time, stands up with a frustrated expression on her face.

VRISKA: Hold on a second! Why the hell should we listen to a thing you say? Has no8ody ELSE read Lord of the Flies?

You grab a nearby stick from the ground and throw it at her, nailing her right between the eyes.

DIRK: Lord of the Flies isn't an accurate representation of how a bunch of dipshits like you guys actually react to being stuck on a deserted island, dumbass.

The girl glares at you while she rubs her forehead, and you revel in the smug satisfaction of having left a mark on her. Your internal gloating is interrupted, though, when you feel an ice-cold and slightly scaly hand wrap around your shoulders. You know who that hand belongs to, so you smack him away from with a glare. It only earns you a low and amused chuckle from the freak who hasn't left you alone since you met him in juvie.

When Harley and the other kids who know how to not die on a deserted island get together in a huddle, you and Cronus join another group of kids hanging out in a circle. One of them, a troll guy with a red mohawk, appears to have been tasked with starting a fire. He's beside you again, and you have to smack his webbed hand away from your leg when it gets too close. Unfortunately for you, your consistent hostility doesn't seem to have deterred him.

CRONUS: so what's your tale, nightingale?
CRONUS: that's an open question for all'a yous
CRONUS: what're ya in for?

The kid trying to start the campfire, or smoke signal, grins when a couple sparks land on the dry leaves he had gathered. He pockets the rocks and looks up to answer his question.

RUFIOH: 1 m1ght’ve… acc1dentally started a forest f1re.
ROXY: y the fukc would jadey let u b in charge of startng the fire if ur in 4 arson?
ROXY: *fuck

The boy gestures to the successfully made campfire and raises an eyebrow.

RUFIOH: probably because 1 can actually make one?
DIRK: This was such a bad fucking idea.
RUFIOH: hey… 1m not tak1ng any cr1t1c1sm from the peanut gallery. espec1ally not from the komeda k1nn1e. how'd you conv1nce them to let you keep them anyway, osama b1n laden?
DIRK: Fuck you, they're Kamina shades. And they're prescription. Also, Osama Bin Laden wasn't the guy who hijacked the plane on 9/11, dumbass.

The group stares at you in silence for a second, until someone is brave enough to speak up. It's the boy who was sitting with the purple troll who lost his shit on one of the flight attendants.

KARKAT: SO IT'S YOUR FAULT WE'RE IN THIS FUCKING MESS?!
DIRK: It's not like I went out of my way to crash it, I was trying to turn it around!
KARKAT: YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO FLY A PLANE, WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!
DIRK: Yeah, I fucking do. Or at least enough to crash one without everybody dying in the process. Give me a fucking break, I'm just as stuck here as you.
CRONUS: both pilots, plus the muscle, and the flight attendants died. that's still six people baby.
DIRK: Fuck you, you freaky motherfucker. Don't fucking call me that. We aren't dating.
CRONUS: you need ta cut it out wvith all that xenophobia before ya get ta pissing me off. you knowv i dont like people mentionin’ my species.
DIRK: I really don't give a flying rats ass about your fetishistic obsession with pretending to be a human-
JOHN: why would you get triangle glasses?

The group goes silent again as the kid who made the stupid Con-Air reference speaks up. His eyes widen at the sudden attention, and he raises his hands defensively.

JOHN: fighting each other isn't gonna solve anything, we should be more worried about making a smoke signal and trying to survive until we can call for help.
JOHN: i'm just trying to be friendly!
JOHN: so why would you get triangle glasses? also i wanna know what you're here for too.

The shorter shouty troll looks like he still wants to tear you a new one, so you're quick to take the olive branch when it's offered.

DIRK: Because style, duh.
DIRK: And I leaked classified military documents to a Helldivers II Discord server.
SOLLUX: oh my fuckiing god ii 2aw that happen. that wa2 you?
SOLLUX: diidnt you get 2watted for that?
DIRK: Yeah. They took my computers.
SOLLUX: ii thought you fuckiing diied.
DIRK: I might as well have. They wouldn't even let me watch Netflix in the hotel room when I was being taken to the airport. I'm going through fucking tech withdrawals.
ROXY: u an me both, buster. goddam

The tension in the small group ebbs away while the mohawk guy, who you come to learn is named Rufioh, like the fucking character from Hook, gets the fire really starting to go. You're pretty sure his parents / lusus whatever the fuck hate him, giving him a name like that.

Pretty much everyone present has to fend off unwanted advances from Cronus, so at least it's not just you telling the creepy wannabe greaser to hit the curb with that shit. You also find out the reason why he's here is because he fucked around and played Grand Theft Auto V with motorcycles in real life one too many times.

A while later, the Skaianet heiress and her ragtag group of wilderness survival nerds come back to grab Cronus.

JADE: hey, cronus right? weve figured out theres not a whole lot of animals we can hunt on the island, so you and the other seadwellers are being tasked with fishing until we can come up with a better solution.

Cronus scoots a little closer to you and tries to come up with some lame-ass excuse of why he should be exempt from it, but you shove him away again and stand up.

DIRK: Just fucking go help get fish, dude. I still couldn't give less of a fuck about your humankin excuse. You're a seadweller, you can breathe underwater. Try not to get eaten by any giant worm lusii on your way out.
CRONUS: star wvars giant wvorm lusii, or dune giant sand wvorm lusii?
DIRK: Fuck *off*, Cronus.

He grins, his mouth all razor sharp piranha teeth that doesn't help the whole predator vibe he has going for him, in both senses of the word. He stands up from his spot and finally saunters away without any more attempts to argue with you. Jade turns to you next, and you hope whatever the fuck you're tasked with is something you can somewhat enjoy, and preferably with people you don't hate.

JADE: okay so youre dirk right?
DIRK: Yeah.
JADE: i couldnt help but overhear youre good with computers?
DIRK: You could say that.
JADE: is anyone else here good with computers too?

The fidgety girl across from you who looks like she's trying not to puke raises her hand, as does the dude who had heard of you and another- you assume he's a goldblood- who has looked like he's been tweaking since you saw him at the airport. You don't know what the fuck he's on, and you're a little scared to ask because it's been over a day and he still hasn't come down from it.

JADE: okay great!
JADE: while the seadwellers are fishing, theyre gonna be going back to where the plane crashed and see if there's anything worth trying to salvage.
SOLLUX: theyre probably all waterlogged.
JADE: well, it still wouldn't hurt to try!
SOLLUX: whatever.
SOLLUX: 2o you want the four of u2 two take a look at what they fiind.
JADE: if you wouldnt mind. ill be joining you later with it, im just gonna be mainly focusing on getting some kind of camp set up first.
DIRK: So what I'm hearing is you didn't want the four of us to be sitting here with our thumbs up our asses while the rest of you worked. Did I get that right?

Your smart-ass question earns you a glare from the younger girl, and you raise your hands in surrender.

DIRK: Just making sure.
JADE: i want you to see if you can make a signal with what they find.
DIRK: Fine.

Chapter Text

You strut away from the little squad of humans, musing passively to yourself about whether or not you’ll be able to land anyone for your quadrants. You could see a delicious blackrom in your future with Dirk. He’s pretty cute after all.

You wave to Eridan and Feferi. They make an adorable pale couple. You don’t even want to hit on Feferi, just because Eridan would get upset and throw a weird tantrum, so it’s really not worth it. Plus, you kind of want to invest as much time as possible in developing that kismesitude with Dirk. Seriously, that’s got so much potential.

Meenah scowls at you, obviously disgusted by your very existence, but you shrug it off.

CRONUS: Alright ladies, are wve ready?
ERIDAN: i'm standin right here, shitlord
MEENAH: Literally shut the fuck up, both of you.

The fuchsia blood faces you fully now.

MEENAH: That skianet heiress said we're looking for tech and fishing, so I think you shoald go get the tech
CRONUS: Awvwv, wvhat the fuck, Meenah?
CRONUS: Don't wvant to risk fallin in lowve wvith me?

She flips you off before wading out into the salty water. Despite only having just arrived on the island, she’s already fashioned two crude tridents. One is kept for herself while she passes the spare to Feferi. You coo at the interaction, dodging the hostile jab from Meenah before wading out on her heels.

It doesn’t take your little group long to split up. Meenah heads straight for the deep waters while Eridan and Feferi start looping around the island. You’re left on your own to go scavenge around the airplane.

For a short while, you swim slowly. The water flowing through your gills is comforting, familiar. You were hatched to swim, and you feel most at home down here. The light reflects across your strong arms with a gentle glow. There’s a school of small fish flitting across your view. They approach, curious, before getting startled by some bubbles and darting away. There’s movement that catches your eye deeper in the water. A long sea slitherbeast lusus lazily swims in a slow current, flanked by regular sea slitherbeasts. They look up to see you passing by. There’s no hostile reaction, just passive curiosity.

The sea floor is covered with a scuttle of crabs. They’re too small to eat. You do realize that they could make good bait for later fishing attempts, so you mentally note where they are in relation to the plane. Just ahead of you, the plane looms. It’s still mostly in one piece, surprisingly. The huge hole everyone swam out through is still just as large and jagged edged as you remember. You easily fit back into the metallic coffin.

Inside, you’re greeted by a school of small fish, crabs, starfish, and even a few medium sized fish. They’re eating the corpses, you soon realize. That’s… morbid. You exhale through your gills sharply. The fish dart away from you in alarm.

Looking around, you realize you don’t know where to start. You forgot to ask what exactly you were looking for, aside from tech. Are you supposed to search every inch of the plane? Is there a specific piece of technology that the heiress wants you to find? You suppose you’ll start in the cockpit and work your way to the tail. The door is open as you approach. You shoo a couple vibrant fish out of your way as you start scanning for anything of use.

You’re not really sure what might be useful, so you yank on everything to see what comes loose. To your surprise, the radio mics come free with very little trouble, and so do a couple random knobs and levers. There’s a small tear in the console of the plane that you’re able to jam your claws into and rip some more wires out. That’s one armful you’re ready to deliver back to Dirk and his little techie group.

The trip back is just as calm as the swim out. You deposit your armful of miscellaneous tech before returning back to the plane. You check the cockpit one more time for anything of particular note, but the little opening in the console yields nothing more. You return to the main segment of the plane to look in all the overhead cabins.

Each little bin is rummaged through thoroughly over the course of the next few hours. You’re pleased to find a completely waterproof bag still lurking in the bins. You leave the pleasure of opening and sorting through it to Dirk while you return to your looting. On one of your trips, you’re greeted by Eridan and Feferi, who are dropping off - to your mild amusement - some of the same types of medium sized fish you’ve been seeing in the plane. You don’t encounter Meenah up close, but you do almost get speared along with a very decent sized fish that she apparently was hunting.

At long last, you reach the tail of the plane. Bolted to the wall is a large orange cylinder with a reflective silver label. You don’t bother reading the label at all. It looks… important. Dirk would be pissed if you leave this behind and it’s actually useful in some manner.

You wrap your claws around the cylinder and pull experimentally. It’s bolted in extremely well. Props to whatever troll or human did this, because you’re not able to even make it wiggle slightly. You’ll have to go find another troll, one stronger than you, to get this thing off. Preferably without alerting Dirk that you’re having trouble getting it. While it would make great material for a blackrom, you’d rather not have him find out so that any blackrom insult material is gathered during the blackrom. It makes perfect sense in your head.

You make it back to the island and stop by to at least check on the four techie nerds. Dirk is busy braiding your ripped out wires into a longer strand, completely focused on it. Sollux is distracted by some sort of retro gaming console as he unscrews the backing. It must have been in the waterproof bag you dropped off, because it’s completely dry. The other two are chatting to each other as they dissect the radio mics you’d delivered initially. They’re all too focused on their assorted tasks to even notice you. Good.

You turn and walk off briskly. No time to waste. If you can get the orange thing onto the shore, maybe it can be of some sort of use. You scan the beach as you walk. There’s only one troll kicking around that you can see, and they don’t seem to be a seadweller. As you get closer, you glance at his outfit to see if you can guess his blood color. He’s facing away from you, so you can’t see his shirt’s symbol and his outfit is solid black. The guy’s about twice as tall as anyone else, but he’s long and lanky. All the same, he’s your best chance. You notice his pants aren’t solid black like you assumed; rather, they’re black with purple circles. They kind of look like pajama pants. Land Dwellers are so weird, you swear.

CRONUS: Hey, are you busy wvith anything right nowv?

He turns around to fully face you, revealing a purple symbol. Purple blood then. Fuck yeah, they’re usually strong as hell. You mentally pump your fists even as you adopt a semi-flirty look.

GAMZEE: i motherfuckin might be. what’s all the hustle and bustle about, my wicked brother?
CRONUS: I need your help getting something out of the plane.
CRONUS: It’s bolted to the fuckin vwall.
CRONUS: I thought you might be able to help.
GAMZEE: WELL. YOU UP AND CAME TO THE RIGHT MOTHER FUCKER.
GAMZEE: lead the way.
CRONUS: … yeah, okay.
GAMZEE: HONK :o)

His long legs easily let him keep up with you as you stride back to the water. He seems nearly as home in the water as you are, minus gills and webbed hands. The swim out is wordless, and you dive nearly in unison to enter the plane. You lead him to the tail and gesture at the orange cylinder. He inspects it leisurely, as if he’s got all the time in the world. You tamp down your impatience. If you rile up the purple blood, he’s strong enough to put you down like an errant barkbeast. Probably. You’re not gonna risk it.

He floats for a second with wild hair forming a halo around his head. His eyes sharpen as he reaches up and yanks. The cylinder remains bolted to the wall. The wall, however, is now in his claws.

He nods lazily at you before the two of you swim for the surface, wall and cylinder doing nothing to slow him down. Gog, he’s strong.

GAMZEE: so, my wicked brother, is this the motherfuckin box we all up and swam down here to get?
CRONUS: Yep. Thanks a ton, dude. Couldn’t havwe done it wvithout your help.

His eyes narrow as he smiles at you, all sharp teeth.

GAMZEE: THE JOB AIN’T DONE TILL WE UP AND GET IT BACK ONTO THE SAND, NOW IS IT?
GAMZEE: i don’t see you all volunteerin and shit to carry it.
CRONUS: Do you… wvant me to carry it?
GAMZEE: NO.
GAMZEE: just pointin out. job ain’t done till it’s done.

The swim back is just as silent, but he hands you the prized object and meanders off lazily once you hit shore. You proudly lug it back to Dirk and co, pretending not to be struggling in the slightest.

CRONUS: Oh Dirk, I got you a little somethin somethin
DIRK: What is it?
CRONUS: I actually don't knovw. Looked important, so I grabbed it

He stands up, cracks his back, and looks at your trophy.

DIRK: Oh my gog.
DIRK: I could kiss you.
CRONUS: Please, by all means, go for it. Vwhat is it, though?
DIRK: It’s the black box for the plane.
DIRK: Basically, it should be transmitting a rescue signal right now! Let me see it!

You help him set it down in the sand. Blackrom be damned, you’re starting to think this could be your redrom. Maybe that purple blood could fill your black quadrant. Dirk looks the “black box” - it’s orange and a cylinder, but whatever - over thoroughly before groaning.

DIRK: It’s not transmitting. Someone managed to hit the sensor so hard it never realized it’s been under the water.
DIRK: Maybe we can fix it, though.
DIRK: Thanks, Cronus. We’ll head back to camp soon; we’re gonna look the box over and see if we can’t get something figured out.
CRONUS: Aight, but don't make me come lookin for you.

You leave Dirk, the goldblood, the hacker girl, and the random guy to their technobabble as you strut back towards the main camp site. On the way, you can’t help but think. What - or who - could have hit the thing so hard it stopped working? And why?

Chapter Text

Everyone has something to offer in this world. That’s what your lusus always told you, anyway, in his own snuffly, moo-filled way. Some offer brains, other brawn. Some are speedy, some are sneaky. Some are friendly, others nasty. But they all have their place in the grand scheme of things.

So it is on the Island. Over by the trees, you can see Equius cracking coconuts, pouring the water inside into the salvaged bottles. By the rocks near shore, Feferi is showing Jake how to tie a net to catch fish. Above the high tide line, Terezi is “watching” the fire, occasionally throwing in a log to keep the smoke going. Under the shelters, Kanaya is examining Rose’s cast. And you are…

You are sitting here. In the shade. Like you have been. For the past several days. Doing nothing.

It’s not like you think you are useless, or think you lack talents. You actually have a really important talent that could help everyone.

You reach up and touch the psychic suppressor at the base of your left horn. It’s a small band, barely noticeable from the outside, blending in against your hair (which you wish you could shave again - it’s starting to grow in around your ‘hawk). It’s such a little thing. How can something so small make you so miserable?

In your spot in the shade, you curl up a bit smaller, trying to fall asleep and dream about flying again. But you’re not alone.

VRISKA: Heeeeeeeey Tavros!

You jerk into alertness and push yourself upright. Vriska is grinning at you from behind a tree.

VRISKA: Did I wake you up? It’s not cocoon time, dum8ass!!!!!!!!

You have your two-wheel device with you, but it’s nearly useless in the sand, so you haven’t been using it much. It’ll be of no help here.

Vriska comes out and sits next to you. You cringe.

TAVROS: uH, i WASN'T REALLY SLEEPING
TAVROS: i THOUGHT YOU WERE, oUT EXPLORING THE ISLAND, fOR TREASURE OR SOMETHING,
VRISKA: I finished that aaaaaaaages ago! Keep up, pupa!
VRISKA: Isn't anyone keeping you up to d8?
VRISKA: Or have you just 8een so useless sitting here that everyone forgot you even exist?

You swallow dryly.

TAVROS: i'VE HAD VISITORS, sOMETIMES
VRISKA: Uh huh.

Vriska flops onto her back in the sand, staring at the gently-waving palm fronds against the sky with her good eye.

VRISKA: I'm so 8oooooooored. this place is so 8oring i could die.
TAVROS: i'M SURE YOU CAN FIND SOMETHING TO DO, sOMEWHERE ELSE ON THE ISLAND

For a moment, Vriska doesn’t say anything. Will she take the hint?

VRISKA: Look, Pupa, we need to make this place a little more exciting. And I think I know exactly what needs to happen.

She sits up and looks at you, smirking slightly. Your heart nearly stops. Oh, no.

She leans forward, eyes focused intently on your face. Oh shit, shit, not again.

VRISKA: Aren’t you curious? Don’t you want to try?

She’s in your personal space, oh no oh no she’s putting her hand on your face oh god she’s pulling you close. You manage a small, distressed squawk.

TAVROS: vRISKA, wAIT!

Then, a moment before you two make contact, she shoves your head down into her lap and grabs your horns. You yell and struggle, and then go completely still as you feel something very, very sharp make delicate contact with the back of your head.

VRISKA: Hold still, Tavros!!!!!!!! If you wiggle around too much I might end up scalping you and that'll 8e such a shame.
TAVROS: wHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO, tO ME
VRISKA: Just gonna cut the damn suppressor thing off. Jeeze! I'm doing you a FAVOR.
TAVROS: bUT IT'S STUCK, tO MY HORN
TAVROS: tHE PAMPHLET SAID IT WON'T COME OFF WITHOUT UH, a SPECIFIC ANTI-AGENT THAT RELEASES THE BINDING,
VRISKA: You're such a dwee8. Are you really gonna let those stupid dead people from the Skaian Summer wh8ver tell you what you can or can't do?
VRISKA: I know I can't get the 8and off. That's why I made this saw.
VRISKA: To cut off the whole horn!

That’s when you start screaming for help.

TAVROS: hELP, sTOP, vRISKA YOU'RE GOING TO KILL ME, iF YOU
VRISKA: Don't 8e such a wiggler. Equius only has one horn and he's fine.

You feel the saw make contact with your horn, flush against where it meets your scalp.

VRISKA: Now try not to squirm so much.

You take a deep breath to try and brace yourself but-

GAMZEE: WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!?

Vriska jumps to her feet, dropping you face-first on the sand like a hot root-tuber.

TAVROS: oW,

Gamzee hisses at her.

GAMZEE: what were you doing with tav-bro?

Vriska shouts back at him.

VRISKA: S8X, DUH!!!!!!!!

You pick your torso off the ground as you hear the footsteps of her retreat, and try to wipe the sand from your face and eyes. You blink at Gamzee, who looks like he might be ready to pursue her.

TAVROS: wE UH, wEREN'T HAVING SEX, oBVIOUSLY

Gamzee picks up the saw - really just a piece of seashell, maybe from a large sea snail or clam, that she’d chipped and sharpened into a jagged edge. It had seemed much more large and dangerous when it was pressed against your head. Gamzee looks at the make-shift tool for a long moment, then glances again after Vriska.

TAVROS: pLEASE, dON'T GO AFTER HER,
GAMZEE: WHY THE MOTHERFUCK NOT?

You’re not sure why not. Maybe you just don’t want to enable more violence on Gamzee’s conscience.

TAVROS: i'D JUST, lIKE SOME COMPANY RIGHT NOW, iF THAT'S OKAY,

Something in Gamzee’s expression softens.

GAMZEE: okay.

So he sits with you. For a while.

Chapter Text

A while really isn’t that long on a desert island. At some point, sand leeches into your clothes and every vague depression in proximity is a crab waiting to pince a chunk out of you. Before you know it, Tavbro’s elbowing you, and you haul your friend up while doing your best not to give away how much you’re definitely plotting Vriska’s painful death.

He indicates again when he finds his chair, and you set him down again. Your pace is too fucking slow, but that’s what happens when you try to push wheels on sand. You’re angrier than you should be for something that, in the end, is expected behaviour from someone like Vriska. Maybe it’s the weight of the situation and how inescapable everything feels that’s finally hit you, because it's like you’ve cleared through a murky haze and are feeling everything a little more sharply than you did… maybe before the plane, even. You might like the feeling more once you’re not reeling from your sort-of-hatefriend attacking your other friendbro.

TAVROS: ,,,sO, now what? sHOULD WE GO LOOK FOR THE OTHERS?
GAMZEE: for motherfuckin what exactly, she just tried to stab you
GAMZEE: WHAT IF THE OTHERS AGREE
TAVROS: i KNOW THAT ARADIA WOULDN’T, sHE AND THOSE HUMANS SHE’S WITH ARE TRYING TO KEEP IT TOGETHER, fEF TOO I GUESS

It’s not like you’ve got many other options here. Didn’t generate a lot of goodwill with that sobering breakdown on the plane, haven’t had the chance to since crashing. Tavros leads the way, but as night falls both of you know you’re really just looking for the first artificial light you see. Just as you’re about to start really worrying, you see a huge makeshift pot (warped plane hull, you’d know that sinful fucking logo anywhere) on a giant flame warming the surprisingly cool evening and a crowd of semi-familiar humans and trolls sharpening spears and cooking anything from fleshy leaves, to coconuts and fish on smaller fires. No trolls with psiionics seem to be lacking a horn, so you feel a little better about how much energy it took out of Tavros to get here.

FEFERI: T)(ere you are!
FEFERI: Bass's nearly everyone, I t)(ink!
TAVROS: tHANKS FEFERI,,, wHAT ARE YOU GUYS WEARING,
FEFERI: O)(, our regular clot)(es need a was)(… blood, slime, you know )(ow it is.
FEFERI: )(alf t)(e group is in wit)(drawal so we need all able fins on deck!!

You groan. When you were thinking about ‘generating goodwill’, pushing back a bunch of motherfucker’s hair wasn’t your first idea. That’s one more of your weird hatefriends accounted for, though. Once Tavros has a corner to spend the night, you take Aradia’s job of watching the boiling water. The pink blonde human assures you all the salt’s been filtered but you’ve gotta make sure the fire gets everything else. What-the-fuck ever, at least nobody seems to be wary of you.

…In all fairness, everyone was on the brink of a breakdown. You aren’t fucking special.

GAMZEE: WHAT PLAN DO YOU GUYS EVEN HAVE
PINK-HUMAN: tbh a rlly big fler
PINK-HUMAN: *flare
PINK-HUMAN: if im gonna hav a rich mom n my death wuld give the razzi pazzi a headache its mah dodgone doodie to exploit it
PINK-HUMAN: fef too ig

You can’t fault that.

PINK-HUMAN: buuut 1st we goootta get these psii inhibitors off
GAMZEE: without mutilation
PINK-HUMAN: EXACTAMUNDO new friend!!! :3
PINK-HUMAN: im roxy wbu
GAMZEE: GAMZEE
SHORTER-HUMAN: Wouldn’t a big enough fire do the trick? For the flare, I mean.
SHORTER-HUMAN: I’m not sure how long we can last while we discover a magical knife
ROXY: plane wreks got magnesium righ
ROXY: big white hot ballz
ROXY: i dont remember mush of hs but in middle school we burned ribbons of the stuff
ROXY: in the words of golgothasTerror it was wizard mate (i’m stealin that)

You tune out the discussion, pour out the water into the many water bottles in the pit to your left, all waiting to be filled. You’re nursing a headache bigger than the mess you’re in, which is a new one. The clarity you’ve had since sitting down with Tavros is new and appreciated, but seeing more of your friends still here is also making your anxiety flare up. If they’re here, and you all don’t figure something out something quick and zippy, they’re going to die. And you, with your grandstanding highblood fucking supremacy, will watch it happen, bit by bit. That means you just don’t have a choice- none of your friends are dying, not if you can motherfucking help it.

Shit, not this again. You redirect your thinkpan the best you can to take in your surroundings, the sleeping humans, Shorter Human laughing at something Roxy said, Tavros helping Aradia carve the tips of the fishing spears two of the trolls who crashed with- a blueblood and another brownie- use for getting dinner. You focus on the charred feeling of the whole fish you eat with a side of coconut flesh. Bland, yes, but cooked and hot and actually filling your stomach like nothing has since long before you left, something sacred. You go to one of the humans to clean off your fish stick, and they share coconut water with you. None of these people want you dead- they want to be off this island as much as you and minimise the losses. Vriska is another sitch entirely, but this isn’t the kind of place that leaves someone like Tavros behind. For all your (probably withdrawal-induced) panic, you can work with that.

Leaning against Tav’s chair with a slightly calmer bloodpusher, you manage to get some sleep.

A crumpled bottle of water being chucked on your nugbone is not an ideal way to greet this joyous day, but it’s how yours begins. Karkat has been here this whole time, except he stuck to night shift unlike your splendiferous ass that’s groaning to motherfuck every time you leave the makeshift tent he and the humans set up. You catch up over careful sips of mediocrely filtered water, though Karkat murmurs (speaks at a normal volume) that it’s mostly for the humans’s sake.

It seems that ‘A FUCKING HUMUNGOUS FLARE’ is the idea the tent’s come to consensus over. Very reasonable and nothing like taking shell blades to everytroll’s horns. You swear to fuck that if you see Vriska in even mid-range of Tavros again, you’ll take that blade to her eye and see how she feels about it.

TAVROS: tHAT'S,,, rEALLY KIND OF UH, uNNECESSARY,

Fan-motherfucking-tastic, then. You do your best to keep your calm, scrunching the plastic blanket roof in your prongs. Your mission today is to return to the site of the wreck with your travel party- Shorter Human (Jane, apparently.), Tavros and a rustblood, Aradia, to grab plane scraps and see if there’s magnesium there. This plus kindling plus any other mirthforsook firestarters you all scrounge up should hopefully make a flare big enough to see from… however high up surveillance planes are.

The weather makes you almost wish for that gossamery human skin, it’s like your adult molt really wanted to arrive a few sweeps early because you feel like you’re liquifying under your hard shell of an outer body. Sips of water are sparse, cleaning it is a long chore and there’s only so much- Roxy’s risking dehydration today to give the other scout group her backup bottle. Still, after many rest breaks, one food break after finding some coconut trees and getting Tavros’s chair out of a sandjam thrice, your group makes it to the site of the wreckage.

Only for the balmy, exhausted silence to be broken by a howl.

???: aa!!

A scrawny troll stumbles out of the wreckage, two sets of tiny horns breaking through sweaty, shaggy hair. They’d collapse at Aradia’s feet if it weren’t for her quick timing, but she looks like she’s seen a ghost. This might be the happiest you’ve ever seen someone upon finding a ghost, though.

ARADIA: sollux! you're alright! Oᗜo

There he is, no way he actually died in the motherfucking crash. At least Roxy’s water bottle is being used for something.

Chapter Text

Your name is JANE CROCKER, heiress to the Crocker Corp Baking and Tech empire, and you’re currently sitting on the sand next to a wreckage, a tentative fire lit for you to huddle around while the strange ghost boy you just stumble across tells his story, or well. The story of how he tragically lost his life during the plane crash, oh boy.

SOLLUX: i was sent here because 0f the juvenile 0ffender deferral pr0gram? my case w0rker said that it was either this 0r getting tried as an adult f0r the last illegal thing i did during my m0st recent manic epis0de.
SOLLUX: i was like sure, shar0n, put me 0n the plane t0 a private island with a bunch 0f 0ther pr0blematic kids and let's see if the warmer weather actually helps my c0ld, dead bl00dpusher gr0w three times in size.
SOLLUX: nevermind that the first thing the skaianet's g0gawful team did was c0nfiscate my antipsych0tics. y0u kn0w, the pills that specifically prevent me fr0m behaving batshit.

Gamzee, the tall purpleblood, just hums when hearing those words.

GAMZEE: I fEeL yOu, BrOtHeR, tHeSe MoThErFuCkErS tHoUgHt ThAt It'D bE a GoOd IdEa To TaKe My OwN mEdS oFf My MoThErFuCkInG pErSoN fOr ThE sImPlE fAcT tHaT tHeY wErE sElF-pReScRiBeD.
GAMZEE: NoW, dId ThIs MoThErFuCkErS eVeN aSk Me WhY i HaD dEcIdEd To SeLf MeDiCaTe WiTh SuCh DuBiOuS sUbStAnCeS lIkE tHe SoPoR sLiMe I wAs BaKiNg AnD iNgEsTiNg? NoT aT aLl.
GAMZEE: DiD tHeY cOnSuLt An AcTuAl MoThErFuCkInG dOcToR oN tHe EfFeCtS oF wHaT wOuLd HaPpEn To A mOtHeRfUcKeR dEpEnDeNt On SuCh SoPoR iF tHeY wErE tO sUdDeNlY cOmE dOwN fRoM tHaT sTuFf? AlSo No.
GAMZEE: Am I cUrReNtLy On ThE tHrOwS oF wHaT's OuGhT tO bEcOmE a MoThErFuCkInG tErRiBlE ePiSoDe Of WiThDrAwAl, WhIcH i'M oNlY bArElY mOtHeRfUcKiNg HaNdLiNg RiGhT nOw? AbSoLuTeLy YeS.

Gamzee leans back, the fire shining off his adolescent gray eyes.

GAMZEE: WhAt I'm TrYiNg To SaY, mY gHoStLy BrO, iS tHaT pErHaPs It'S bEtTeR tHaT yOu MeT a QuIcK dEaTh Do To SuCh A gRuEsOmE hEaD iNjUrY iNsTeAd.

There’s something wild about the boy, like there’s just an ocean of barely contained rage there, merely hiding beneath the surface. It makes you feel somewhat uneasy to be around you.

But then you remember how gently the purpleblood handled Tavros right after the Vriska situation, and you find yourself thinking that perhaps he's not as bad as you think he is.

SOLLUX: h0nestly? yeah, man, can't argue against h0w shit g0ing thr0ugh withdrawal is, especially when it's antipsych0tics.
SOLLUX: i saw s0me truly h0rrend0us visi0ns 0f utter d00m and despair when there was a sh0rtage 0f the pill i was taking 0n my state. was basically left 0n a catat0nic state f0r a few days, i ended up d0ing a l0t 0f stuff 0ut 0f desperati0n, which is, incidently, h0w i ended up in the usa g0verment watchlist.
SOLLUX: n0t my fault that my dealer 0nly t00k crypt0.

The ghostly troll flashes you all a toothy grin. Though maybe it can’t be called toothy when he lost his fangs when his head slammed against the seat in front of him, causing his death, as previously mentioned.

Aradia gives him a fond look. Sollux notices it, and scratched his neck, a bit embarrassed.

He turns to Gamzee.

Sollux: f0r what it’s w0rth, s0rry y0u have t0 g0 thr0ugh withdrawal.
SOLLUX: especially when stranded in the middle 0f a deserted fucking island.

Gamzee returns him the smile, even if it’s more tired than anything.

GAMZEE: ThAnKs, MaN, tHe SeNtImEnT iS aPpReCiAtEd.

The group falls into silence. You glange quickly at the wreckage, and you squirm against the sand, sharing a glance with Tavros.

You all know full well why you’re stalling to enter it- or at least the part of it that ended in the island. You don’t know what sort of malfunction causes a private jet to split into several pieces, one of them ending up miles and miles away from the section of the plane that sank into the ocean. It’s really not like any jet malfunction you’ve ever heard or seen before.

There's a foul taste in your tongue and a knot in your throat. The same that's been following you all around the island and shore since you discovered that your dear friend Roxy is here. She wasn’t meant to be here, you weren’t meant to be here. Yet, due to some twisted trick of fate you’ve both found yourselves here, with a plane crash that's starting to look less and less accidental.

Point is, Sollux is dead, you're talking to his ghost. And as any clever detective would be able to deduce, that means that Sollux’s body is still somewhere in the wreckage. Sollux’s body, and who knows how many other bodies of dead teenagers.

So if talking about your past and the reason you’re all here buys you some time to not go in there, well. You're all happy to keep talking.

As long as no one asks you why you’re here, oh gosh.

TAVROS: sO, uH,,, yOU AND ARADIA ALREADY KNEW EACHOTHER,
ARADIA: 0h yes were childh00d friends 0f s0rts! alth0ugh its been sweeps since i last saw him
ARADIA: we l0st t0uch after i g0r ad0pted by the spades family

Tavros just blinks.

TAVROS: wAIT, sPADES, aS IN, tHE sPADES SLICK,
ARADIA: yes the very samee 0u0

Your eyebrows go up. While your family hasn’t really interacted with Spades Slick ever since he decided to branch out from the rest of the Noir conglomerate, you do remember your dad periodically complaining about the man.

An oil tycoon who’d struck gold with a hefty contract, you did admire his business savviness. Although perhaps it was more due to the wise council of his husband, Diamond Droog.

SOLLUX: h0w did y0u end up with the skaian summer sanctuary, if y0u d0n't mind me asking? fr0m what i remember y0ur f0lks were pretty 0kay as far as strange human c0uples ad0pting tr0ll children went.
SOLLUX: they seemed certainly better than the assh0les i ended up with.
ARADIA: 0h theyre pretty nice all things c0nsidered and i have been quite happy living with them
ARADIA: there was just 0ne issue

You felt curious.

JANE: Yeah?
ARADIA: s0 dad recently f0und 0ut that p0p had lied ab0ut s0mething inv0lving an 0ld pitch fling 0f his
ARADIA: this all happened years ag0, bef0re they were even t0gether, but dad was quite angry that p0p hadnt t0ld him the truth 0f what was really happening
ARADIA: n0rmally i d0nt mind all 0f their arguing it is h0w they shiw each0ther affecti0n but this had been g0ing 0n f0r weeks and i was gr0wing quite ann0yed
ARADIA: s0
ARADIA: i decided t0 take matters int0 my 0wn hands

The troll girl gave you all a wide smile, and it seemed creepy, somewhat? You can’t explain why, but something feels off about her degree of excitement and the thing she’s describing.

SOLLUX: aa.
SOLLUX: what did y0u d0?
ARADIA: i st0le a funeral hearse with the c0rpse b0x inside it was quite fun and it had the intended effect
ARADIA: dad st0pped being angry with pop because he was n0w angry with me the tw0 even behaved like quite the married c0uple while they were talking with the c0ps that g0t me arrested
ARADIA: p0p was p0sitively fuming but i think he c0uld sense why i had d0ne such a thing s0 instead 0f gr0unding me until i turned 12 sweeps he just arranged t0 send me here
ARADIA: and i think it was w0rth it because i g0t t0 rec0nnect with an dear friend!

Sollux just chuckles, staring at Aradia as if she's something else. You would agree with that. Though as far as reasons for being here, you think that grand theft auto and possible property damage is better than the attempted manslaughter that sent others of you here.

That some of you have attempted now that you're stuck on this island.

You stare at the wreckage and think of Roxy. You think of the water bottle she gave up for your group, so you’d be able to venture here and find the flare that the tent has agreed is your best chance of getting out of here.

You furrow your brows, determined now that you think of a dear friend of your own. Even if you feel like she's here because of you. Even if you feel as if everything that’s happened- the plane crash, the deaths, the Vriska attacking Tavros’s horns with a shell blade, the people going through withdrawal – well. If it feels like all of this is somehow your fault.

It isn’t. You just have to believe that it isn't.

JANE: I’ve decided to venture into the wreckage. Now, none of you have to follow me there, believe me, I’m more than capable of going inside there and getting everything we need.
JANE: CrockerCorp really does care to make sure that all their heiresses are physically fit, hoo hoo!
JANE: I don't know if there’s more of your friends inside there, and I know we didn’t know a lot of the people that died in the crash all that well if at all, but.
JANE: But I feel like we owe it to them to at least give them a proper burial. And we owe it to the people back in the tent to at least try and get out of here.
JANE: I'm getting us that flare. I’m getting us that flare if this is the last thing I do.

Tavros and Gamzee stay quiet for a little while, but Aradia stands up, feeling compelled by your words.

ARADIA: ill start digging s0me pr0per graves then!
GAMZEE: I'lL aDmIt ThAt Im FeElInG dIzZy LiKe A mOtHeRfUcKeR aNd Am ReAdY tO eMpTy WhAt ReMaInS oF mY aBdOmInAl SaUsAgEs AnY sEcOnD nOw.
GAMZEE: BuT i'M gOiNg WiTh YoU iNtO tHe WrEcKaGe :O)

You and Gamzee go inside the part of the plane that fell, with Sollux’s ghostly form directing you through the bodies and shards of glass and metal. The fracture patterns of the aircraft confirm what you were suspecting, that the accident that stranded you here was caused intentionally. You don’t know whether you can share this information with your peers, you don’t even know if you can share this with Roxy. You don’t think she’d be as happy to sleep with her head resting on your chest, her limbs curled up with yours on the tent if she knew the truth.

You find the flare. You find the blackbox of the ship, which you take with you under Sollux’s ghostly instructions. Something about people being able to trace the location of a crash if the box is still intact.

Hauling it out of the wreckage leaves you and Gamzee sweating and exhausted. He goes back inside and starts pulling out the corpses.
He also says a prayer of the Mirthful Church. He talks a bit of what it was like growing up with them, and just how he ended up here too. You start to feel guilty that you can't share with them what they’ve shared with you.

You grab everything that seems useful, then meet with the other scout group before going back to the tent. When you come back, Karkat and Rose have managed to fashion some sort of evaporation gizmo that means you guys will have a more formal water supply. Feferi also found a proper stream, an hour or so walk from here, and the others also managed to get more food.

You stare at Roxy while everyone shares the meal, and you remember what the Condesce told you before sending you here. You find yourself happy, once again, that you get to be away from her. Just for a little bit. Just this once.

Chapter Text

The dusk air feels cool on your skin. You didn’t have any cold weather clothes (even if your luggage wasn’t sitting at the bottom of the ocean you hadn’t thought to pack any) so you shuffled through the dark undergrowth without anything to protect you from the elements. It would’ve been smarter to wrap up in a blanket but that would’ve disturbedRoxy and you couldn’t explain why you were going out so late.

So off you went, shivering as you snuck to the renedez-vous point in nothing but scavenged pajamas. Hopefully those two won't keep you waiting.

You’d agreed to meet by the river. It was an easy landmark and a safe enough distance from the camp that nobody could accidentally overhear you. Despite that, you were careful that you weren’t followed.

And once you were there-

JANE: Uh…
JANE: The solution to the question of two times three is…
JANE: Be-pronged your comprehension?

A dark head surfaces from the bubbling water. You resist the urge to fall back in terror as she crawls out onto dry land.

FEFERI: )(ello my fellow lady-in-hatching!
FEFERI: Ugh wait t)(at was a terrible pun…

She holds out her hand, beaming on the while. You decide to swallow your pride and shake it in the name of diplomacy. Her skin is clammy and wet so you awkwardly wipe your hands on your trousers.

JANE: It’s good to see you Ms. Peixes!
FEFERI: Please, call me Feferi!
FEFERI: Or Fef, whichever one you prefer! 38)

You don’t know her well enough to be comfortable doing that. Instead, you shoot her a quick smile and look around for the third member of this clandestine meeting.
She’s not far off. Carrying a stick behind her like a makeshift spear and grinning widely, the third heiress on this island slinks towards you.

MEENAH: waters up babes

You both stare at her blankly.

She sighs.

MEENAH: whats up
JANE: According to the rules we set yesterday, you have to say the code phrase first!
MEENAH: gill you know its me chill out

You weren’t in a very “chilling” mood, not since you had to bury the bodies of those unfortunate enough to die in the crash. How could she be so jovial at a time like this?

Unless…

JANE: You had something to do with all of this?
MEENAH: aye dont put this shit on minnow
MEENAH: i was gonna quit remember?

That part is true, you quite remember the media kerfuffle that had occurred when the elder Piexes announced she was exiting the race for the throne. Mostly it had been about the way she had done so. Hijacking a rocket and fleeing to the moon wasn’t the normal way abdication was done, but you suppose there was no normal way to abdicate as heiress.

The two human heiresses before you had passed away under… suspicious circumstances.

The one good thing about being stranded is that you didn’t have to worry about playing the Batterwitch’s games.

(Don’t tell anyone you called her that! Roxy really is rubbing off on you.)

JANE: Well, that doesn’t mean you’re innocent just yet!
JANE: How do we know that you didn’t cause this crash to make sure Crockercorp couldn’t make you come back?

She thinks about that for a while and stares at the ground.

MEENAH: whale shit you got me there
JANE: And it’s only a matter of time before I reel you in!
FEFERI: ((STOP IT WIT)( TH-E PUNS T)(IS IS S-ERIOUS!!!))

With nothing but a look,you and Meenah decide to put your squabbling to rest to focus on the task at hand. You both know you’ll start arguing again later, hopefully in civilization and not the uncongenial wilderness you’re currently trapped in.

FEFERI: Alright, back to business!
FEFERI: Since we already talked about the sabotage, let’s move onto our second order of business: W)(o do we tell about t)(is?
MEENAH: nobody (nobuoy)
MEENAH: we kinda dont need to
MEENAH: we re all supah prepared we can totally take the fucker ourselves
JANE: I’m going to have to agree with Meenah on this.
JANE: Not because I believe that we’re more capable than our friends, but because we shouldn’t worry them unnecessarily.
JANE: Despite getting along enough to make survival easier, tensions are still high between our respective groups.
JANE: We should identify the cause of the crash and only inform the others once we’ve dealt with it ourselves.

She doesn’t look happy to hear that.

FEFERI: But t)(ere trapped )(ere wit)( the )(ijacker too!
FEFERI: We can’t not tell t)(em t)(ey’re in danger! T)(at would be stupid!
FEFERI: And we’re too important to )(unt for t)(em wit)(out the ot)(ers noticing!

That is true. You got lucky with Roxy once, but can you count on that twice?

JANE: Well then, who do you have in mind? Remember they need to be able to keep a secret.
FEFERI: Well, t)(ere is someone we can ask…
FEFERI: Someone w)(ose is quite experienced wit)( fis)(ing up the trut)(! 38)

You find yourself sitting inside a treehouse in-between a miffed Meenah and a prostrating Feferi, the latter of which had just finished explaining your plight to one of her peculiar friends.

FEFERI: And that’s w)(en we swam to you!
FEFERI: (Wow I am really off my game today…)
FEFERI: So, by royal decree-
FEFERI: Canoe )(elp a couple girlies out?

The detective remains silent. You begin to feel nervous about this whole suggestion. You should’ve remained steadfast in your beliefs, who knew if this troll was really as trustworthy as Feferi said? After all, she is friends with that navy blue troublemaker. What if they had been the ones behind-

TEREZI: 1LL DO IT

What-

JANE: R-really? You’ll investigate the case?
TEREZI: W3LL 1 W4S 4LW4YS PL4NN1NG ON 1NV3ST1G4T1NG TH3 CR4SH
TEREZI: BUT B31NG H4ND3D 4 L3AD BY 4 COUPL3 OF MYST3R1OUS BRO4DS 1S 3V3RY L3GISL4C3RTORS DR3AM SO Y3AH 1LL DO 1T

You don’t know what to think. Could this little girl (you can’t remember how trolls measure time but you do know that Feferi and her friend group are a few years younger than you) be trusted with such an important task?
You aren’t alone in being skeptical of this kid detective, for Meenah has decided to stop stewing in her thoughts and finally speak out.

MEENAH: yo i dont mean no disrespect
MEENAH: but youre pike what?
MEENAH: 3 sweeps old or somethin pike that?
MEENAH: look we re not talkin about finding somefishies lost lunchbox
MEENAH: this is big kahuna shit
MEENAH: this aint aint PG13 ya herrin me?

Terezi smiles back.

TEREZI: TH4NKS BUT 1 C4N HOLD MY OWN F1SHSTICKS
JANE: It has to be one of CrockerCorp’s more notable enemies.
JANE: More specifically the dastardly Marquise Spinneret Mindfang!
JANE: We flew over her territory to get to the camp and she’s known for terrorist attacks against the empire.
JANE: She knew we were here because of a leak in our midst, more specifically her look-alike descendant!
TEREZI: GOOD GU3SS BUT YOUR3 WRONG
JANE: Bwu-uh?
TEREZI: F1RST OF 4LL BLOW1NG UP TH3 PL4N3 TO T4RG3T YOU GUYS 1S 4 DUMB 1D3A
TEREZI: H3R “K1DS” W3R3 ON TH4T T1N C4N TOO R3M3MBER?
TEREZI: SH3 WOULDV3 K1LL3D TH3M TOO 4ND CONS1D3R1NG TH4T SH3 N33DS SOM3ON3 TO T4K3 OV3R TH3 BUS1SN3SS SOM3D4Y TH4T WOULD’V3 S3T H3R B4CK TOO
TEREZI: 3SP3C14LLY 1F SH3 W4NT3D TO R3PL4C3 TH3 3MPR3SS

Before you can propose a revised version of your theory, Terezi continues. Her cane taps like a metronome as she spaces the floor, firmly setting the pace of the discussion.

TEREZI: S3CONDLY TH3 M4RQU1S DO3SNT WH4NT TH3 3MPIR3.
MEENAH: and how the halibut do you know that

She smiles, the grin on her face somehow getting ever wider.

TEREZI: C4US3 SH3S 4 P1R4T3
TEREZI: 1F TH3 M4RQU1S W4NT3D TO B4BYS1T 4 BUNCH OF L4ND SH3 WOULDVE ST4RT3D OUT DO1NG TH4T
TEREZI: 1TS NOT L1K3 4NYBODY WOULDV3 TOLD H3R NO
TEREZI: BUT 1NST34D SH3 TOOK TO 1NT3RN4T1ON4L W4T3RS 4ND M3SS3D W1TH TROLLK1ND FROM TH3R3
TEREZI: 1 DONT KNOW WH4T SH3S 4FT3R BUT 1TS NOT TH3 3MPIR3
TEREZI: VR1SK4 1SNT TH3 CULPR1T FOR TH1S CR1M3 31TH3R
TEREZI: SH3 C4NT K33P H3R MOUTH SHUT TO S4V3 H3R L1F3
TEREZI: 1V3 B33N W1TH H3R S1NC3 TH3 CR4SH 4ND SH3 H4SNT BL4BB3D ONC3

Drat! You thought you had something

TEREZI: BUT TH4NKS FOR D3B4T1NG M3
JANE: Err… you’re welcome?
TEREZI: Y34H 1T PROV3S HOW B4DLY Y4LL N33D MY H3LP.

She turns to Feferi, matching her growing smile.

TEREZI: L1K3 1 S41D B3FOR3-
TEREZI: 1’LL T4K3 TH3 C4S3! >:]

SOLLUX: why are we here?

True to your word, it’s dawn and you’re still up. Wait too long and the trail will get cold and you’ve already wasted enough time already.

You told the heiresses that you’d handle the rest of the case yourself and would only bother them “1F 4BSOLUT3LY N3C3SS4RY”. In the meantime, they should pretend that this whole meeting never happened and let this junior legislacerator work her magic.
Yet despite all of that, you decided to rope Sollux in at the nearest opportunity. You’re a troll of your word, but he was essential to investigating the more “techy” parts of the plane.

TEREZI: TO LOOK FOR CLU3S OBV1OUSLY >:[

The scent of Appleberry blast intensifies. He must be pissed right now.

SOLLUX: Terezi this place is a fucking death trap
SOLLUX: I might not have to worry ab0ut that shit anymore but you still d0.
SOLLUX: We already have the b0x, just g0 back and wait f0r the not crippled survivors.

There’s a worried edge in his voice as he talks. Criticism has never stopped you before and he knows that but can’t resist saying his piece even knowing you won’t listen. It’s kinda cute.

TEREZI: R3L4X 1’LL B3 F1N3
TEREZI: 1 M4Y NOT B3 4 GHOST BUT 1 C4N HOLD MY OWN >:]

The inside of the plane is overwhelming. So many smells and most of them bad. You try to filter out the dead from the living, hard as everything here’s gone stale.

Ugh, it’s not working. If anything the offending smells are getting stronger.

Think Terezi! If you were a hijacker, where would you hide your things.

…Or where would you leave them?

You make a beeline for the cabin. The plane couldn’t have fallen if the pilot-drone was alright. If there was sabotage the evidence would be right there!

Like everything else on the plane the cabin’s completely trashed. However aside from the smell of rotting drone it is easier to sort scents over here. This place smells of batteries and-

TEREZI: …dr4gonfru1t?

You pick up the tablet. It feels like a normal CrockerCorp device, complete with an engraved trident on the back. Could this belong to one of the heirs?

No. Meenah only has the supremacy-suppression tiaratop, Jane’s stuff is at the bottom of the ocean, and Feferi doesn’t care for tech. Plus if it did belong to one of them they would’ve retrieved it before hiring her. Aside from Meenah (who you don’t know that well) they’re all through and observant with their actions. A sloppy heiress doesn’t survive for long.

You sniff it. Nothing, the battery’s dead.

TEREZI: H3Y SOLLUX COM3 H3R3
TEREZI: TURN TH1S ON3 FOR M3

This he does without complaint. He smelt different too, more curious than anxious.
Licking the screen, you take a look at its contents. Flavored seltzer and a lot of bleach. Someone’s been deleting messages, but wasn’t able to finish the job before the plane crashed.

And you’ve caught them red handed.

???: Once I have proof that the job’s been done I’ll send a drone to the plane’s location.
???: Don’t think about the news coverup, I’ll manage that.
???: Do what I paid for and it’ll all go on without a hitch.
???: The upcoming administration will give out a handsome reward for this sacrifice.
???: So please-
???: Stand proud, for Ψou are strong!

Chapter Text

You’re still not sure why you agreed to accompany TZ into the wreckage of the plane. Sure, you don’t really want her to die, but she shouldn’t be in here in the first place. You can explore just fine now that you’re… dead, but she could have at least let you look around first. Yet here you are, reading over her shoulder, seeing exactly what got you in this situation in the first place. Exactly who set up the hijacking.

You can’t be certain who they are, but the fuschia text with a distinct typing quirk isn’t a good sign.

SOLLUX: Wh0 is that
SOLLUX: It’s n0t FF.
SOLLUX: Is it that 0ther girl? Meenah I think

Terezi gives the tablet a decisive sniff, shaking her head.

TEREZI: NO
TEREZI: 4T L34ST 1 DON’T TH1NK SO. W3 SHOULD CH3CK W1TH F3F3R1
TEREZI: SH3 SHOULD KNOW TH3 OTH3R DR4GONFRU1T’S TYP1NG STYL3
TEREZI: SH3 M1GHT 3V3N KNOW WHO OUR MYST3RY SABOTU3R 1S >:]

You consider this for a moment. TZ has the box, she can go wait for the others safely. Showing the tablet to FF is… well, maybe not the greatest idea, but the best you have right now. You do wonder, though.

What else was left in the wreckage?

SOLLUX: 0k
SOLLUX: Let’s get 0ut 0f here then
SOLLUX: Y0u g0 back t0 the meeting sp0t and wait for FF.
SOLLUX: I’ll g0 find her and tell her what y0u f0und

She grins at you again, sharp and toothy.

TEREZI: L34D TH3 W4Y TH3N, 4PPL3B3RRY BOY

You’re on your way back to camp, arms full of fish for the others, when he finds you.

SOLLUX: Hey FF

You startle, nearly dropping your catches.

FEFERI: GLUB! S)(oallux!
FEFERI: Don’t sneak up on me like t)(at!
SOLLUX: S0rry

He motions for you to follow him. You do so, walking back towards the camp, looking straight through his ghostly form. You’re still not used to that. Spectre or not, though, he’s still your friend!

SOLLUX: I was l00king f0r y0u actually.
SOLLUX: TZ f0und s0mething in the wreckage.
FEFERI: Wait, for eel?
SOLLUX: Yeah
SOLLUX: It seems like the pers0n wh0 t00k d0wn the plane didn’t have time t0 delete all their messages
FEFERI: HOLY SQUID R--E--ELY?
FEFERI: WHO DID IT TH--EN?

He turns back to you with a heavy sigh.

SOLLUX: We f0und a Cr0ckerc0rp tablet, FF
SOLLUX: The messages were in fuschia.
SOLLUX: N0t y0ur quirk, 0bvi0usly, but we d0n’t kn0w Meenah’s
SOLLUX: So TZ was h0ping y0u might rec0gnize it.

Your face falls. A fuschia took down the plane? This could be an entire political conspiracy! You and Meenah are both potential heirs, Jane too in a way.

FEFERI: Are you shore it’s not just a human with fuschia text?

He shakes his head.

SOLLUX: N0, it has a typing quirk
SOLLUX: We 0nly have the very end 0f the c0nversati0n but the w0rding is als0 weird.
SOLLUX: Can y0u check it

You quickly nod. This is important!

FEFERI: Of course!
FEFERI: I do hope it’s not Meenah though. That would be R---E---ELY awful!

You… You really, really hope it’s not Meenah. The island is dangerous enough as is.

SOLLUX: Yeah it w0uld be
SOLLUX: C0me 0n. TZ is at base camp.

You're not sure what to make of the scene you stumble upon once reaching camp again.

Several people are scattered around as is the usual by now, chatting in smaller groups. There's fish cooking over the fire, and a couple more fruits in the food pile. Roxy is nowhere to be seen, which is a real shame. However, the group next to the fire quickly draws your attention.

FEFERI: WHAT!?

You whip your head around to see one of the tealblood girls (Terezi?) alongside Feferi and that poor ghostly troll boy. At least he stuck around after… that whole fiasco. More importantly, though, is the bright red tablet the main girl is holding.

JANE: Is that a Crockercorp tablet?

Feferi turns, eyes still wide from whatever it is that she saw.

FEFERI: UM. Y--EAH. You might want to sea this, Jane!
FEFERI: Terezi, show her please!
TEREZI: 4LR1GHT?

She spins the tablet around, showing you… fuschia messages?

TEREZI: TH3S3 4R3 FROM WHO3V3R H1R3D TH3 H1J4CK3ERS

Oh. Oh no.

You scan the messages. They're going to cover it up, the hijackers will be handsomely rewarded, typical. The last message stands out to you, though. One glance and you know exactly why Feferi is so worried.

???: Stand proud, for Ψou are strong!

You- That’s HER typing quirk. SHE’S behind this?

JANE: Holy shit.
FEFERI: That's H----ER, right? I'm not going crazy?
JANE: No, that's her. Oh my god.

Holy shit. Holy SHIT. This whole situation might be (at least partly) your fault. Oh god.

SOLLUX: What
SOLLUX: Wh0 is it
TEREZI: Y34H WHO S3NT TH3S3
TEREZI: W3R3 NOT M1ND R3AD3RS YOU KNOW

Feferi gives you a weary look. You just nod. They have a right to know. She returns the gesture, the most solemn you think you've ever seen her.

FEFERI: It's… it's Her Imperial Condescension.

Chapter Text

JANE: I can’t believe it! I really can’t!

You pace around the camp, clutching in your head in trembling hands. You clench your teeth, completely flabbergasted by this turn of events.

SOLLUX: II2n’t 2he liike… a ma22iive biitch? II don’t get why you’re surprii2ed. You’re the one2 who told u2 that anyway2.
FEFERI: S)(OALLUX! W)(at the fuck?
SOLLUX: What? IIt2 true.

You look at the pair with a wary glare before looking at the ground beneath your feet. You hold your arms to steady yourself in preparation for the bombshell you’re about to drop.

JANE: You see… Her Imperial Condescension… Is my great grandmother!
TEREZI: W3 KNOW
JANE: What?
FEFERI: W)(AT? I didn’t know! Did I miss t)(e minnow or somefin?
TEREZI: YOU T4LK 1N YOUR SL33P, 4 LOT. 4ND M4YB3 YOU TOLD US B3FOR3 4ND 1 JUST FORGOT B3C4US3 1 L1CK3D PO1SON OR WH4T3V3R
JANE: Well… Shucks buster!
FEFERI: Wait just one second! S)(e’s MY ANC—ESTOR! Does t)(at make us… Cousins?

A silence falls over your group as all of you, minus Terezi, who is busy eating a crab, stares at Feferi.

SOLLUX: FF you really need two bru2h up on your human famiily term2
FEFERI: W)(ale it’s not my fault )(uman families are confishing…
JANE: We don’t have time to discuss who’s related to who and why here! Why would she send hijackers to a plane I was on?
SOLLUX: Diid you mii22 the part where II called her a biitch?
JANE: Hey! She acts like a bitch on camera, but she’s actually nice!
TEREZI: WO4H, 1 DON’T B3L13V3 1T. R34LLY, 1 DON’T, WH4T THE FUCK?
JANE: Well, uh, maybe I’m exaggerating a bit. She’s nice to family! She wouldn’t send hijackers to shoot me down!
FEFERI: Maybe s)(e didn’t know?

All of the sudden, it comes to you. As you stare at the Crockercorp tablet you find a code hidden in the fuschia messages. A secret code you came up with as great grandmother and granddaughter. One she meant for you to find. The reason you were all shot down, the very start of this whole adventure, it was all caused by…

JANE: This… All of this… It’s because I forgot to send her a christmas card!
ROXY: say wut?

You whirl around at the sound of the voice. You hadn’t noticed in your decrypting of the secret message, but Roxy was right behind you. She must have snuck up on you while you were busy!

ROXY: janey you… you didn’t give your great gams a christmas card?

Sollux falls into a wheezing fit behind you. Coughing and spluttering he shouts.

SOLLUX: THAT2 what you’re worriied about? Not that 2he’s apparently related to the conde2ce, not that the conde2ce TOOK U2 DOWN IIN THE FIR2T PLACE. But that 2he diidn’t 2end a chrii2tma2 card. Of cour2e, why not, that make2 2en2e.
ROXY: woah damn, i didnt catch that part.
SOLLUX: Fuck off
ROXY: so uh what r we gonna do?

You place your hands behind your back and begin to pace. In a commanding voice you order.

JANE: Get everyone on the island! They need to hear all of this. Even if they hate me… They need to know why we’re all here! We’re having a meeting!

Roxy and Feferi salute and run off, while Terezi doesn’t look up from her digging in the sand. Sollux just sighs and walks away, hopefully to get people. This meeting will decide the future of your group. It’s critical that you all are together, as you plan to get off of the island, and let Her Imperial Condescension face justice!

Chapter Text

You’re Roxy, and you arrived back just in time for the meeting.

You, Feferi and Sollux all gathered pretty much everyone (who survived) for the meeting. Making this the first time you see a lot of people since the initial scramble after the crash.

JANE: Is everybody here?
ROXY: everybody who survived ofc
JANE: Okay!
JANE: So… Everyone’s probably wondering why we are gathered here.
TAVROS: iM ASSUMING ITS FOR AN ESCAPE PLAN, rIGHT…
JANE: Not quite!
JANE: I know some people here don’t trust me too much, but you need to hear me! Just this once!
SOLLUX: jane there2 only three people here who arent aware.
SOLLUX: could you cut two the cha2e already.
JANE: So the Condesce is my great grandma and she was the one to hijack the plane!

Awkward silence ensues as John, Jade and Tavros (the only ones who didn’t know it by this point) exchange glances. While Sollux just stares at you for some reason.

JOHN: i’m not too surprised to be honest.
ROXY: yeah i wasnt either
JANE: So our current goal right now is to make a raft and escape the island.
ROXY: i dont think thats we planned btu okay
JANE: How else would we escape, then?
ROXY: i dunno
ROXY: mayb if we just hijacked a boat or something
JANE: Be serious!
JADE: anyways, how will we build this raft?
JANE: Terezi and Sollux will gather wood.
JANE: By sunset we should have enough wood to have a raft that’ll fit everyone!
SOLLUX: iim goiing two be real wiith everyone.
SOLLUX: there2 no way iim gatheriing that much wood iin2iide a few hour2.
JOHN: i could help!
ROXY: i would also help but my backs fucked up from the crash
TEREZI: W3 SHOULD STOP TH1S M33T1NG 4ND 4CTU4LLY ST4RT G4TH3R1NG WOOD
JOHN: let’s go!

And suddenly this meeting is over. It ended just as it began. With lame losers.

Anyways after watching three members of your group go into deep into the island for potentially the last time. You decide to start up a chat with Jane.

ROXY: so do u ACTUALLY ahve a plan or were u bullshitin it up
ROXY: i wont judge if u were
JANE: Well, I can’t say I had it all actually planned out.
JANE: It was more improvisation than anything.
ROXY: okay
ROXY: but do u know what we will do after we arrive at that island
JANE: I don’t care if they’ll listen to me but I need to make sure they all know Condy was the one who hijacked the plane!
ROXY: yknow what
ROXY: i love the way ur so determined
ROXY: and the way ur always so bossy
ROXY: and

Your (incredibly cheesy and inconvenient) love declaration gets interrupted by Sollux and the others returning with the wood necessary to actually build the raft.

They claim they found a bunch of trees conveniiently chopped down, a2 iif we were meant two fiind them there. You think nothing of it.

When it’s time to build the raft itself everyone works together in some sort of harmony that you’d never expect from a bunch of teens sent to a troubled teen retreat. Maybe being put in life endangering scenarios peaces everyone here down a bit? Who knows!

All you know is that the sun isn’t even showing signs of setting by time the raft’s finished. And that’s hella good.

Right when your friend (mayb not just a friend but thats for latersies) is about to get the raft onto the sea a troll starts objecting.

TAVROS: hEY, i KNOW THIS IS AWKWARD TIMING,
TAVROS: bUT MY WHEELCHAIR, jUST CONSTANTLY ROLLS OFF THE RAFT,
TAVROS: wOULD ANYONE MIND, jUST, hOLDING MY WHEELCHAIR IN PLACE DURING THE WHOLE RIDE,
JADE: dont worry!!!
JADE: ill do it for you! :D
TAVROS: tHANKS,

If there’s anything Jade’s kindness ever neglects it’s basic weight distribution. You’ll pay the price for this later.

But for now, thing are looking pretty good for the fact you were in a plane crash just a few days ago.

The raft holds itself surprisingly well for the fact it was made by a bunch of people who are a not a day over 16 at best.

You just sit off at the edge facing the actual retreat, which is pretty visible by this point compared to how it looked only a few minutes ago at the island, with Jane.

You’re almost drifting off until you hear a splash.

oh shit.

Jade, the girl who saved you back in day zero, is currently drowning alongside Tavros, the first one you ever helped.

You try to pull her back in.

You struggle.

And you ultimately succeed, in a way.

You manage to save Jade, but Tavros’ a goner.

You don’t even get a single break from this as the raft starts unmaking itself.

You hold onto a piece of wood that Jade and Jane also hold themselves to, while the trolls and John seemingly are left scrambling.

All you can think is how tf we r makin our way to this fuckin island janey.

And your habit of thinking out loud has finally fucked you over this time.

Chapter Text

The raft pulls apart, and your ragtag crew is all but dropped into the water. Not the best case scenario, and definitely the worst.

ROXY: shiz hold on everyone!

It may be a little redundant to shout, but you know that if you didn’t then at least one person was going to forget and fall back under. You’re all floating with your own individual debris, and the water is freezing.

There’s no way the current will take you all to the island before the cold sets in. You’ve come all this way only to lose.

Sollux goes down right next to you as he loses his grip on his piece of the raft. There’s just not enough space to help pull him back up and onto yours.

People start dropping like flies around you, and the only person close enough and still out of the water is Jane.

ROXY: janey this aint looking good

That’s a given. It could’ve gone with you saying. From the way Jane gives you a sour look, you know she feels the same way.

JANE: We’ve got this. Just keep a tight hold.

You know she’s looking at you so she doesn’t see everyone scrambling and thrashing in the water around you.

Eventually, it’s just you, Jane, and Jade. Three is better than none, and your maybe-soon-girlfriend is one of them. As sad as it is to lose everyone else you couldn’t be happier with the people you’ve been left with. The three of you huddle together, trying to remake the raft from the three logs you have left available when Jade manages to drift a little closer.

You can’t breathe easy just yet, hands wound tight around the plant fibers you all were using as rope to keep them secure this time.

You all sit in silence, and even though you can’t tell what the others are thinking, you know that you’re thinking about all the people you’ve lost. The friends you made, and already knew, that are all gone.

It’s just you, Jane, and Jade.

ROXY: soo

You break said silence.

ROXY: how longgg do we think this is goin to take?
JANE: Drifting as we are? No idea.
JADE: maybeeee an hour??
JADE: less if we’re lucky!!
JADE: or if we start trying to paddle

Jade’s idea is a good one, but you don’t want to risk letting go of the makeshift ropes keeping your considerably smaller raft together. Jane, thankfully, takes it upon herself to be the one to let go. She slides her hand through the water, and you trace the waves that lap at her wrist and up her forearm.

When the water level dips, the droplets on her arm fall slowly with gravity.

You’re transfixed.

It’s only because you’re so focused on Jane, that you notice quickly when she starts to topple. She falls into the water and you let go of the fibers to hold onto her hand in hopes of being able to pull her back up.

You didn’t see what did it, but a hand pushes against your back as Jane gasps for air below you.

Your head turns to Jade, who sits with a smile on her face and an arm stretched out.

JADE: i really thought it’d only take one push for you too!!

Her chipper grin doesn’t fall as you keep a tight hold of Jane.

ROXY: what do u mean?!
ROXY: why would u push me at all!?
ROXY: janey don’t let go-
JADE: isn’t it obvious?? :D

It isn’t. Not at first. Jade always flew under the radar, she saved you. She was so nice.

ROXY: …it wasnt actually condy

All that answers you is the cold ocean water. You cough, with water in your lungs after being submerged for all of a few seconds, before you’re holding onto Jane like your life depends on it.

Jade waves at you as the raft starts to drift further and further away with only her on it.

It’s just you, Jane, and the ocean.

She’s getting weaker next to you, and it’s all up to you to try and keep the both of you afloat.

ROXY: janey

You’re a goner, the two of you are goners.

JANE: yeah?

Her voice is weak, and she’s coughing a lot more than you are.

ROXY: it was real nice to meet u properly
ROXY: like real nice

You tried before, and you failed, but you won’t get another chance.

ROXY: and i really like like u like love type of like like
JANE: That’s so many likes Roxy.

She laughs, the noise strained and bitter.

ROXY: hell yeah it is

You’re getting weaker.

ROXY: so
ROXY: so what do u think?

You both finally slip under, and you can’t reach back up.

All that answers you is the cold ocean water.

Chapter Text

When Tavros’ head slips under the waves, he thinks to himself: wELL, i GUESS THAT’S IT,

Tavros holds his breath with all his remaining strength. He’s not sure why. He can’t swim, he can’t even tread water. He can’t do shit. And he doubts the seadwellers are going to save him. He still holds his breath.

He misses Tinkerbull. He wants to say goodbye.

He had heard, that in these kinds of situations, your life is supposed to flash in front of your eyes. So that’s what he expects to happen: maybe like some kind of home movie compilation of all his shittiest mistakes: getting into FLARP; trusting Vriska; letting those guys on the PETA message boards talk him into liberating a few thousand chickens. Getting on board a flimsy handmade raft in high seas.

Tavros’ lungs are burning like he swallowed coals, but he holds his breath for all he’s worth. Maybe Feferi will…?

Then he sees it. For a split second, he thinks it’s his life actually flashing before his eyes. But it’s not. It’s an explosion. A red-and-blue psionic explosion, deep in the water, the shockwave rippling towards him like in one of those crazy action movies. When it hits, it’s an electric shock straight through the pan. It fucking hurts, worse than his lungs. It blows the air straight out of him in a cloud of bubbles.

Unable to speak or breathe, through his psionics alone, Tavros screams.

And, before he blacks out, before death sinks him forever, Tavros hears an answer. Something huge, and powerful, swimming up at them from far in the depths. Help us, Tavros thinks desperately, weakly, at the distant creature. Help-

And that is all.

The wake begins at 0800. Crockercorp’s nothing if not punctual, and I’m a bit impressed that they kept it up even while in a Corpo war. The remaining heiresses hadn’t missed the ceremony either. Interesting. Looked like neither was involved in battle preparation, or perhaps the death of one of their own took priority.

(Note to self: Ask Terezi about them after the funeral.)

The oddities keep coming as I survey the ballroom that has been hastily reformed into a wake. The trademark CrockeRed is restrained, being only the accent in this unforeseen situation. Black had taken the floor in its stead, a trend that the attire of the heiresses similarly followed. The youngest wears a black dress with a scallop-edged collar, the eldest a dark suit. Their ties are the only part of their funerary uniform they both share, CrockeRed with a trident in the middle.

She gives pause and turns to stare at the picture looming behind her. The deceased heiress, Jane Crocker, beams at us from beyond the grave. The sight moves many to tears, Miss Feferi included.

I’m no noob legislacerator, so I approach the sight with a calm think pan. I recognize the photo. It’s from one of her many photo-shoots, this one used in an PR campaign to promote Crockercorp’s human offices. Miss Crocker had symbolized that the infamous mega-corporation was changing how it did business. No longer destroying the environment or using psionics and chucklevoodoos to manipulate consumers from the shadows, they were finally treating the humans as equal partners instead of cattle to be reaped. Of course that hadn’t been the first time the Batterwitch had tried appealing to humans, nor had Miss Crocker been the first human used to sell that lie, but it’s looking like she would be the last.

(Note to Casey: However my files lack information on Jane Crocker the individual. Do you have any pertinent information on her?)

Eventually, Miss Feferi returns to her speech. With a grim look on her face she returns to making claims about the dead that no one but herself could verify.

It’s a little saccharine but it’s hard to argue against the truthfulness of her claims. After all she’s the reformist heiress, the one whose extensive charity work had gotten her in hot water with her old lady. More specifically it had been the injustices they had revealed to the general public. Until she had sponsored that niblet-based grubloaf substitute, nobody had known that Crockercorp was fixing cavern trial results to meet grubstock demand. The paparazzi had theorized that she had been sent away so they could repair the damage she’d done before she made it even worse but I had darker suspicions about the true reason for her sudden disappearance.

(Note to self: Investigate Crockercorp before it goes under.)

A hand-off occurs. Meenah Peixes is now the owner of the mic and I admit I lean forward in anticipation. She’s the troublemaker, the heiress who stole a rocket rather than bow down to her queen. If anytroll had dirt on Crockercorp, I’d bet on Meenah to disturb it.

For a while she just stares at the small black device, an unreadable expression fixed on her face. Then Feferi takes her aside and whispers something and that’s enough to snap her out of her trance.

(Note to Casey: What was that about? Can you check if your cameras got a clearer view?)

A true orator of the modern age.

She looks down again. I’ve spent hours of my life surveilling our heiresses but I don’t think I’ve ever seen Peixes Jr. be this… vulnerable before? Perhaps I’m falling for an expert argument but it seems like island life has caused a change in our party-girl’s bloodpusher.

(Note to self: Further investigation into the disaster is top priority.)

She’s clutching the mic like a lifeline. Pink tears roll down her face like waves. This is a simple closing eulogy anymore, it’s personal.

Looks like I had misread her earlier. She hadn’t been drowning in the blues but restraining pure red rage.

She throws the mic to the ground and stomp off, the press hot on her heels with a flurry of questions, comments, and flashing lights. Me, I take advantage of the situation and slip away.

So, the crash wasn’t an accident. Looks obvious looking back on it. Its passengers included the children of so many important figures, both troll and human. It wasn’t a question of if it had been planned, but by who. All I know for certain is that it wasn’t us.

For now I’ll keep tabs on the girls and see if I can find Crockerp’s list of suspects. The flight manifest needs to be looked over too. I trust that you have insiders who can get a copy into our hands? Without the black box it’s the only lead we have on what could’ve happened.

Casey, when you get this message, I want you to interview some of the remaining survivors. I’ll be checking up on them but it looks like my hands will be full for quite a while and I can’t risk the trail going cold.

If you need anything, you know where to find me.

—From the notes of Legislacerator Redglare

I fidget with the papers in front of me as we prepare to go live, reviewing tonight’s major case. Seems like a pretty tragic story, and quite a few big names are involved. A wild ride of a plot for sure, and probably one we’ll be reporting on for a while.

The crocodile behind the camera signals for everyone to get in place. I fold my hands in front of me on the table, scarf settled gently around my shoulders. The "On Air" sign flickers to life as the introductory tune of our station plays. Go time.

"Good evening, this is Casey Von Salamencer of Rabbit-Box News, here with a breaking news story regarding the location and livelihood of a group of missing teens. Roughly three-dozen passengers and crew members were presumed dead until now, as their plane never arrived at their destination - an island camp for troubled youths. Among them were several big names - Feferi and Meenah Peixes of Crockercorp, Jane Crocker (also of Crockercorp), and Skaianet heiress Jade Harley. Skaianet runs and operates the camp and its transport, purportedly a facility for rehabilitation and growth - something these campers proceeded to receive the exact opposite of."

"Today, at 11:28 A.M. Eastern, several human and troll youths arrived at the mainland on whaleback. Reports from the authorities have confirmed their identities to be those of some of the presumed-dead passengers. Among them were the Peixes twins, though neither Jane or Jade appear to be present. Anyone not among the small group present appears to be deceased, if reports are to be believed. Their plane had crash-landed near a small island, where many were miraculously able to survive for weeks before an escape attempt gone wrong ended many of their lives."

"Additionally, once reaching the mainland, two of the survivors were turned in by their peers. One had reportedly attempted to assault a now deceased passenger, while the other reportedly either outright killed or tricked another survivor into dying. Both are in police custody, and will be put on trial in the following days."

"The rest of what happened on the island is unclear as of yet, with survivors set to give their testimonies and provide more detailed information in the days to come. We’ll provide updates on the story as more information comes out." I pause as the turtle holding the cards fumbles for the next set. He manages to get one flipped up before it becomes too awkward. "Now, for our next story…"

Jade Harley, "heiress" of SkaiaNet, watches the newscast with interest. She shifts her weight on the old couch that her grandfather, the nominal CEO of SkaiaNet, had once pushed down into the bunker in which she shelters. It creaks as Bec jumps up to sit with her. She absentmindedly runs her fingers through his fur. She can’t feel the implants below his skin, but that’s good, it means everything is still integrated smoothly.

So, the survivors are firmly putting the blame on CrockerCorp. Perfect. She’d been a little worried when she’d learned of the survival of so many of her fellow passengers, but it looks like the tablet she’d planted was doing its job. The rival company is not likely to recover from a scandal this magnificently decimating.

Jade turns down the volume and turns on the closed captions as an angry-looking Meenah and a sad-looking Feferi come on screen to give a eulogy. Only a little while longer in hiding, and then Jade, too, can "miraculously" survive, talk to the press, etc. She just needs to make absolutely certain that no one saw what she did to the plane, or to Jane and Roxy. She’s pretty sure no one did. Or at least, no one who’s still living.

She has an explanation for her survival as well, one that’s even almost true! She presses her tongue gently against the homing chip embedded in her molar, then lets out a deep sigh. Waiting for Becquerel to pick her up had been a harrowing ordeal, but at least it was over. The genetically and cybernetically enhanced First Guardian of the FutureⓇ model 1.0, had found and retrieved her after only a few hours of clinging to the single floating log that remained of the ill-fated "raft." She can claim that the psionic blast from Sollux’s second death activated the chip, which had been "malfunctioning" since the crash. Anyway, iIt’s proprietary how the chips work, so that should be enough to satisfy the press.

It’ll give a boost to the company stock, too!

Humming the tune to Everything’s Coming Up Roses, Jade scratches Bec between the ears. The idea that the CEO of SkaiaNet would put his own granddaughter and heiress in mortal danger, just to try and frame a rival company, is unthinkable. Everyone knows the CEO adores the girl. Everyone knows the man is still alive to do so.

Everyone is wrong.

Jade is getting somewhat bored with the eulogy, wondering if they’re even going to mention her. After all, she’s "dead" too! Drowned along with the others! And she helped them all out after the crash, right? Isn’t that worth at least a mention?

Maybe she’s looking too much into it. Just because she trusts no one but Bec doesn’t mean everyone else is equally paranoid. Even though they should be. Her grandfather taught her that, and she smiles fondly at his stuffed skin in the corner. Good ol’ grandpa. Always there with words of wisdom for her.

So, Jade Harley, the real and acting CEO of SkaiaNet, leaning against Bec and watching the last two heiresses she has to worry about insincerely eulogize people she never really knew, drifts off to an untroubled sleep.

He scratches his neck absently as he goes back over the events leading up to where he is now, locked in a psych ward after pleading insanity at his court case. Since there was a bomb on board, his attempt and successful plane-jacking was viewed not as a felony, but as a life-saving maneuver that allowed for there to be many more people who escaped the island with their lives. He's only mildly disappointed that he can't claim to have that on his record, but if it had been? He can only imagine how much longer his sentence could have lasted.

Even if the wording of this shit is vague as hell. "Until he is deemed mentally fit to rejoin society" Dirk's pasty white ass. And since Serket decided to follow by his example and plead insanity at her trial, they got fucking stuck together. He wants to strangle whoever thought that was a good idea, but if he said that out loud then it would only make this crappy situation worse.

Surviving on the back of a moving whale was, in short, a living hell. There was no reprieve from the sun, the wind, or the salt spray. You all had to crowd to the front of the whale so as not to be on top of its beating tail, so goodbye to personal space, too. If you had to take a leak or a dump, you hung off the side of the whale and let loose. If you had to eat or drink, too fucking bad. If you even thought about sleeping, you’d better hope one of your friends held onto you, or you’d fall off.

Your lips were parched and cracked, you were sunburnt, and you’d lost your shades in the chaos of the sinking raft. No one was really talking, you were all too thirsty and haggard.

Only a select few of you were capable of drinking seawater, and those few were tasked with swimming alongside the whale, looking for food.

That said, some of them were more welcome than others.

He smiled at you.

You’d seriously have rather died than do that. He couldn’t do anything too horrible when he was right by the whale, in front of everyone else. You knew he was just looking for an opportunity. Even then.

You didn’t respond. Eventually, he gave up and slipped back under the waves. So far, the only fishing success the seadwellers had found was a jellyfish that Feferi produced. No one wanted to eat it.

Guess it was hard to catch fish by hand, when you were out in the open sea and also had to keep up with the whale.

It was quiet for a while, save for the sound of waves and the whale’s deep breathing. Rufioh was sitting up at the front, right by its blowhole, deeper in concentration than you’d ever seen him, keeping the whale going straight and at the surface. This kind of whale, Feferi had informed you all, could dive miles deep and hold its breath well over an hour. So if it decided to go down, you were all going down with it.

Near the beginning of the ride, Rufioh would fly up, looking for any nearby ships you could hail. Nothing, so far. He’d also tried calling some fish or birds to come by, too, so you all could actually eat something, but he had also admitted that he was completely shit at the whole ‘communing with animals’ thing, and had hardly ever practiced the skill before. Tavros had been much more practiced. You think Rufioh might have felt guilty about that, but there was nothing to do about it. He was as weak and dehydrated as the rest of you, anyway.

Then –

With a grunt, the seadweller heaved himself out of the water right next to you, even though there wasn’t really space, elbowing aside Karkat and Rose to rub shoulders with you. He lifted up a foot-long fish by its tail in triumph. It was a weird looking fish, with the front of its soap-white belly swollen like it had swallowed a grapefruit. The rest of its body was gunmetal gray, but its face just kind of ended blunt and flat, not pointy like most fish. Like it had swum into a wall until its nose squashed.

Cronus looked altogether too pleased with himself for your tastes. Especially for someone who had just caught-

Pufferfish are deadly toxic, full of tetrodotoxin. You knew this. They are a delicacy in Japan, regardless, where specially trained chefs cut out the poisonous organs and skin and serve the tasty flesh. Cronus, apparently, didn’t even know what they looked like.

So, before Rose, who looked strained and exhausted, could say anything more about the fish, you cut in:

He bit into the raw fish like it was an apple. He ripped out a hunk of flesh and swallowed it thoughtfully.

He took another bite. And another. Fish blood dribbled down his chin. It actually did look disgustingly appetizing.

You locked eyes with Rose. She knew. Her eyes were wide but she didn’t say anything.

Then Cronus leaned against you. On the whale’s back, there was nowhere to go.

He ate the whole damn fish.

No one else seemed to be paying attention, which was good. Either they knew too, or they were too miserable from exposure and exhaustion and boredom to even realize what was happening.

Cronus patted his stomach.

He rubbed his lips, then sighed, stretched, and placed his hand very deliberately on your opposite hip. He was being unusually bold, but then again, there was nowhere for you to go.

You did not want to get into a fight, right there. There was no space, no breathing room. You were both unarmed. And you were so fucking tired that a part of you just wanted to let it happen.

He was acting odd, though. Kept touching his face, his mouth. He noticed you looking.

He paused at his own slurred speech, looking surprised. This time he took both his hands (thank god) and rubbed his face vigorously.

He sat there, staring at his hands. He bit his lip, hard enough that it started to bleed. You almost wanted to ask, but refrained.

Then he leaned forward and projectile vomited.

There was a fuss.

Cronus, who looked like he was feeling quite ill by then, dunked himself in the sea with shaking arms, to try to wash off the vomit. He slipped trying to clamber back on, and had to ask Gamzee for help getting back up on the whale. He was talking slowly, his words slurring. He probably didn’t know why his arms and legs were so shaky and weak.

For a while, he lay next to you, draped across the whale’s back, drooling, sweating, and periodically dry-heaving. He was taking up too much space but you all let him, not wanting to get vomited on. None of the others knew what was wrong with him. None of them really knew what to do.

After a few hours, Meenah and Feferi returned. You weren’t sure where they’d been. Foraging deeper than Cronus had been willing to, it turned out. Feferi was holding another, larger jellyfish.

She pointed at Cronus, who hadn’t heaved or made any noise for a while.

Rose elbowed him, and he didn’t respond.

You peered closer. He wasn’t breathing.

There was a fuss. Terezi demanded an explanation. You said he ate a poisonous fish. You said you couldn’t have stopped him. She said she doubted that, but admitted she couldn’t prove anything.

Then, you all dumped Cronus’ body off the whale and watched it sink.

Fucker. Good riddance. You made a promise to yourself, right there, that you were never going to regret this, whatever consequences there might be.

Dirk groans loudly and rubs his face in irritation. He could have skipped this whole mess if he hadn't plead insanity. He could be in a shitty prison cell right now, serving his sentence instead of being stuck in a psych ward with three assholes, two of which he's not entirely sure whether or not they're a figment of his imagination or actually there. And if they ARE real, he doesn't know why out of everybody they decided to haunt him. They hardly even talked except the one time!

And why the fuck are there two of them? He's pretty sure Sollux had been one guy, not twins. Genuinely what the fuck is that about?

Apparently he had been zoning out again, because he hadn't been watching out for the third prick in the room. She has had enough of this dick ignoring her, so she's decided to take off her slipper and get some good old fashioned payback for the time he nailed her on the forehead with a stick.

Dirk huffs and walks further into his and Vriska's shared room to climb into his bed, and tries to ignore the sounds of the goldblooded ghosts trying to make his already bad migraine worse with their incessant nagging.

It’s been two months since the disastrous flight. One month and one week since the disastrous rafting attempt. One month and four days since the survivors were rescued, dehydrated and delirious, from the back of a whale. And since then, Gamzee hasn’t rested, not one day.

There’s too much to do. Too many hearts to reach. Too many crowds to speak to. Too many people who need to hear his message. It’s like a motherfucking torrent of righteous testimony has been unclogged from Gamzee’s squeal pipe, and he just can’t motherfucking stop.

It’s a miracle, is what it is.

Miracles on miracles, even, that people actually listen. That there are those folks, even now, that come to hear him speak, that carry signs that say the most justified shit like Justice for Tavros and No Haven for the Homicidal and Crazy Is Still Culpable.

It’s not even hard. He can just let his yap blaster loose and they motherfucking flock to him, like it doesn’t even matter what he motherfucking says. And then he just adds a touch, just a taste of the ol’ ‘voodoos and–

There they go chanting his name. Damn motherfucking straight.

When Gamzee speaks, he talks about Tavros, yes, plenty, but also about other cases, about that guy, the one with the pointy shades, who killed Cronus. About other killers who went to cushy padded rooms with art therapy and nice meals, all because they claimed they were crazy and were good enough motherfucking actors to fool the shrinks who looked at ‘em.

Anyway. Gamzee has a cause, and that cause is banning the insanity plea. He’s focused, tireless, dedicated. His chucklevoodoo psionics, the gift of his bloodline, help to manage the crowds. Fear is a powerful motivator.

Ever since Sollux, may that brother rest in power, sent off to the Dark Carnival, the ‘voodoos swirl through Gamzee’s mind, day and night. He can reel it in when he’s got to, but it took a while to get his learning on how. He feels kinda bad for the humans that were around him those first few days after he popped his chuckle-cherry. Humans don’t sleep in sopor. Wouldn’t surprise him if they still felt the echoes of it. Even the jury, when he testified against Vriska, about how dangerous and violent she was, about how she tried to mutilate her companions during their time on the island. That whole courtroom got a facefull of leaky ‘voodoos and there weren’t motherfucking nothing anyone could do about it.

His case won, anyway. Didn’t need help. Didn’t even need Karkat. Not that anyone’d seen a motherfuckin strand on Kar-bro’s hide since they’d all got saved out of the drink. Heard he’s wrapping his horns in tin foil these days. Poor fuck'll die a virgin for sure. But that doesn’t matter. Gamzee doesn’t need anything or anyone to prop him up.

Oh, what? The drugs?

Nah. Stone cold sober for two months now. ‘Cept of course for them pills they give him prescription. Legally medicinal and everything. Motherfucking miracles.

Gamzee don’t even sleep in sopor anymore.

It’s not like it used to be. Not like falling into the cool embrace of sopor, or the human tranquilizers, or the other stuff he’d shove in his body by any means he thought were all motherfucking quickest like. That shit rotted his pan so numb and sweet, and it wrapped his eyes and ears and horns and all in such a thick motherfuckin fog he couldn’t get his think on motherfucking nothing. Couldn’t hear his purpose. Couldn’t sense what was right in motherfucking front of him.

And now? Now it’s all so motherfucking clear. You can’t put that bitch back in the box.

Waves. Shaking. Screaming. The feeling of the not-altogether-solid raft beneath you rapidly disintegrating into so much driftwood. Falling. Pain. Terror. The ground rushing up to meet you - the sea, the waves- the back of a whale -

Rose Lalonde wakes from the nightmare gasping, in a cold sweat. She sits upright in bed, then puts her face between her knees and just breathes, the way her doctor told her, for several long seconds. After a minute, she feels well enough to go to the restroom. She glances at the clock. 4am.

Rose splashes water on her face. Her doctor says the psychic explosion that freed the trolls from their psionic shackles seems to be the cause of these ongoing, vivid nightmares/recollections. Unfortunately, knowing their cause doesn’t make bearing them any easier. She wonders if Dirk, the only other human survivor, has them too.

Rose reaches with her right hand for a towel to dry her face, then pauses a moment while her conscious mind catches up with her body, and reaches with her left. She’d left the prosthetic on top of her dresser. It was human-made, and uncomfortable to sleep with.

She’d be getting a troll-made one soon, though. Equius said he’d make her one. So that is something to look forward to.

Rose walks back into her room and flicks on the light. If the past is any predictor of the future, there is no way she’s going to be able to get back to sleep.

Instead, she opens her laptop. Dave is offline, no doubt. He managed to skip the flight entirely and got sent to juvie instead, the lucky bastard. His communication privileges are highly regulated but he didn’t have to survive on an abandoned island or nearly drown. No point in messaging him.

As for Jade, she is very busy, Rose knows that much. Since her miraculous survival, she hardly ever has time to chat on Pesterchum anymore. It’s only 11pm in her time zone, but it’s not a surprise she’s not online.

The last name on her chumroll is….

Well, offline. Never coming online again.

Rose Lalonde feels cold. Empty, inside. She does not feel like crying, nor like speaking in tongues and lashing out. She wonders if maybe that’s a sign of improvement. Or maybe just another sign that something in her mind is deeply, fundamentally, wrong.

A ping. Someone from the Trollslum (not an insult, but just an indicator that the user is using Trollian) has messaged her.

Hunt-and-peck typing with one hand is ridiculously slow, thinks Rose in irritation. Nepeta has already kept going.

Rose can’t help it, she’s smiling. Still not going to sleep, though.

Oh no, now Rose misses Jaspers, too. Maybe she should ask her mother for a new cat.

Rose closes her computer and sits, for a time, in the dark. She’s sure Nepeta didn’t mean anything by it, bringing up Rose’s trauma. She might have been trying to be cute, or trying to diminish the magnitude of the event or make it seem less frightening and traumatic. Regardless, Rose did not feel ready for such head-on confrontation with her nocturnal spectres.

Then again, if Nepeta was awake, then…

Rose logs off. It’s a good reminder, she acknowledges, that she’s not the only one with problems. That the world does not revolve entirely around her own needs.

Rose laughs so hard she cries.

KANAYA MARYAM, NYC Highschooler
08/01/2021

Student Working Towards Advancing Maternal Care For Both Trolls And Humans

Experience
  - Survived On A Desert Island Surrounded By Teenagers In Withdrawal, Did Not Kill Any Of Them, Showing My Immense Propensity Towards The Etiquette Required Of Specialists In Maternal Care.
  - Currently Researching The Ins And Outs Of Possible Ghost Fertility, Hypothesised Through Their Ability To Duplicate At Minimum Due To External Factors. Paper Approximately Due By November.
  - Head Researcher Working To Create Improved Models Of Chainsaws For Labour. Lab Trials In Process at Cloudnine Laboratories, NYC.

Education
  - Interned At Skaia Medical Labs, Brooklyn NY. Shadowed The Doctors And Nurses Present. (Relevant Contacts 1, 2, 3)
  - Currently Interning At Cloudnine Maternal Solutions, NYC, Bookkeeping & Administration In Patient Residential Areas
  - Starting At John Hopkins University In The 2023 Fall Semester

After a few long moments, Rose manages to catch her breath.

KANAYA MARYAM, NYC Highschooler
04/13/2022

Student Working Towards Advancing Maternal Care For Both Trolls And Humans

Experience
  - Survived On A Desert Island Surrounded By Teenagers In Withdrawal, Did Not Kill Any Of Them, Showing My Immense Propensity Towards The Etiquette Required Of Specialists In Maternal Care.
  - Published Paper On The Ins And Outs Of Possible Ghost Fertility, Hypothesised Through Their Ability To Duplicate At Minimum Due To External Factors.
  - Head Researcher For New Models Of Chainsaws For Labour at Cloudnine Laboratories, NYC. Field Trial Complete.
  - Home Birth Expert.
  - Currently Researching The Continued Care And Viability Of Troll-Human Hybrids. Paper On The Topic Of Early Wriggler-Infant Development Expected In April 2025 Or Upon Infant Expiration, Whichever Happens First.

Education
  - Interned At Skaia Medical Labs, Brooklyn NY. Shadowed The Doctors And Nurses Present. (Relevant Contacts 1, 2, 3)
  - Currently Interning At Cloudnine Maternal Solutions, NYC, Bookkeeping & Administration In Patient Residential Areas
  Starting At John Hopkins University In The 2023 Fall Semester

I scramble back to my stool, struggling a bit to climb it while still holding my hasty-at-best script. Rushed as it may be, this is the biggest story we’ve had since that errant plane crash (the investigation of which remains ongoing, but slow). I fiddle with my scarf and nod at the croc behind the camera (Henry, was it? Why am I thinking about this, it doesn’t matter now just read the script-) sets the intro going.

"We interrupt your nightly programming to bring you a breaking story - new details appear to be coming in as I speak. At tonight’s 15th Annual Crockercorp-orate Gala, tragedy struck when crockercorp CEO Meenah ‘Condesce’ Peixes (Senior) attempted to cut the grand cake. The cake reportedly exploded directly in her face, killing her and two others instantly as well as injuring many with the shrapnel. According to our sources," said ‘sources’ being frantically written cards in scribbly handwriting from the poor iguana tasked with speeding to transcribe them, "The cake was a lie, and was actually a massive shrapnel bomb frosted with what appears to be shaving cream. The caterers for the event are currently in police custody and being brought in for questioning."

"The remaining Crockercorp heiresses, Feferi Peixes and her sister Meenah Peixes (Junior), appear to be unharmed. They have been taken into protective custody alongside some of the higher level guests from the event, and will not be open for interview for some time. More information to come as we receive updates on the situation." As soon as the last notes of the outro-slash-ad-break jingle play, I set my head on my desk. Good grief. I stay there for several long moments, frustrated. This is an absolutely wild story, and I can’t help but wonder if it has something to do with the previous plane crash. It could very possibly be from-

My internal monologue is interrupted by a poke in the shoulder. I turn to see the camera-dile, holding two cups of coffee. It’s nearly 7 pm. He apologetically explains that new information on the possible identity of the bomber is being brought in as we speak, and that he figured I'd need the boost. I gratefully accept the caffeine, thanking him for his consideration.

I get the feeling it’s going to be a long night.

Not much is known about Aradia Megido of the Slick family, as she has remained outside the public eye since the rescue. She was welcomed home by her very worried fathers, who hugged and embraced her, and she was content to return home to them while working on an only archeology degree, seemingly completely moving on from the horrors witnessed on the island.

When pressed for an interview, at first, the reporter team was served with a politely worded email, a note of thinly-veiled threats and a Cease and Desist letter, not necessarily in that order. Nevertheless, the necessity to have another witness to confirm everything described by the less trustworthy sources was all consuming, and a certain salamander reporter found a way to sneak into the Slick personal state, to finally get that interview.

The reporter and her team were greeted by two men wearing hats, one of them holding a pocket knife, glaring daggers at them.

The reporter insisted upon the importance of Aradia’s testimony. She played a key role in the court cases, not to mention the criminal investigation opened after the April the 13th events. The person responsible has finally come to light, after the FBI managed to trace an internet forum thread where user ‘pipefan413’ asked for the best way to fashion a bomb out of a cake, some nitroglycerin and 14 cans of shaving cream.

The father of the deceased John Egbert who also died during the raft incident, has been charged with murder and domestic terrorism. The reporter asked for the oil barons’ opinion on the topic.

The couple provided the reporter with the loosely stapled together set of documents that was Mr. Egbert’s ‘political manifesto’. Some would label it as the ramblings of a grieving madman, but Droogs and Slick reassured this reporter that the man made a couple of good points.

It would be quite an inflammatory piece if it were to be published, which is why they decided to entrust it to this very reporter.

With the condition that she stops trying to interview their daughter and never sets foot in their property ever again.

Glancing down at the papers that smelled like fondant and buttercream frosting, the reporter thought about it for a second. She mentally debated about which of the two choices would make for a better inside scoop.

A glance into Mr. Egbert’s mind won out.

She bid farewell to the men and moved on to her next stop, the document now firmly in her possession, beckoning her to read it.

I’ve read the whole thing what must be a dozen times, by now. Every inch of it, every single frosting-scented word. I've analyzed every paragraph, every message. I see now. I understand.

My coworkers have been concerned for my stability. Henry the camera-croc tried to stage an intervention after they found my theory board in the back storage closet. I explained it to him, but he couldn't understand. No matter. I will make them see.

Mr. Egbert was right. The violence towards those poor children, the deaths of both his son John and the sole human Crockercorp heiress, it was all because of her! She couldn't stand the thought of having a human heiress, so decided to take her out alongside Skianet's in order to ensure her bloodline and corporate power! She knew they would survive, they're seadwellers for Sufferer's sake! The most durable of any trolls!

He was merciful in his sparing of the Peixes heiresses, truly. They may have known of their mother's schemes, but he gave them the benefit of the doubt - they're only teens, after all. Their corporate ambition, though, is dangerous now that it rests solely in their hands. Perhaps more so than in those of the senior Peixes!

I see this story for what it truly is, now. Corporate greed and wealth are the most vicious and horrible motivators, ones that drive nearly every horrid decision in this nightmare we call a country. We must stop these corporate wars before they can start, tear down the walls and the weapons. Create a new system, one where nobody has to suffer at the hands of our corporate overlords!

The time has come for revolution!

Excerpts from the Review of the Diary of Eridan Ampora, as found on the r/FUCKEMBIRDS subreddit:

The rest of the summary is complete and utter lunacy, and it does not deserve further comment.