The Misadventures of Being Tavros in Altergrabah (WIP)
A lone cloaked figure walks down a gold-covered hallway. All around the room treasures sparkle and shine: rupee filled crowns, silver bracelets, and golden eggs, to name a few. But, the figure does not care for these. No, they have eyes on the lone golden lamp situated within the palms of a large statue of a golden monkey. It glistens similar to the other treasures but there is a smudge. The figure makes mental note to clean that off once they have the chance. There is so much loot here, perhaps they could just take a piece. Quickly they dispel the thought from their head as they hurriedly snatch the lamp from the statues open hands. No traps go off or alarms sound. The figure lets out a sigh of relief; things could have gone dreadfully wrong. Content with their newly found piece of gold, they begin to leave the hallway and exit the cave, planning to take the same path as they had used to enter.
And then the cave collapsed.
=> Be the conniving Grand Vizier to the Sultan of Altergrabah
You are not conniving, you are just trying to figure out how to take control of the power that should be rightfully yours. Well, you shouldn't say "trying to figure out" because you know how to do it. Sort of. You know you need that lamp and that the stupid thief you sent in to retrieve it completely failed. Of course, you had briefly considered that as a possible conclusion. The old peddler back in the market had told you that only a "diamond in the rough" could retrieve the lamp you seeked. What the hell does that even mean? Either way, you're pretty sure that street bum you had pulled off the street was no diamond; just rough. And maybe a little bit drunk? Yeah, probably not what the peddler meant. But oh well, soon enough you, and your bumbling assistant, will obtain the lamp and then nothing will dare to stand in your way.
=> Do the introduction thing in that one style with the random, yet significant capitalizations of words.
NO! It's not time for you to be introduced yet. Your role is simply too big and important to have a lazy, poorly written introduction about you. Plus, you have a loooooooot of also really important business to attend to right now. One could even say you have a lot of metaphorical irons in a metaphorical fire, but who is actually cool enough to say that to you? Not your friends; those jealous bitches don't tend to talk to you much, as if you care. Of course, you'll also toss out your bumbling assistant because, well, he is a bumbling assistant and what he is is lame. Now, as you already said, you're busy. Go bug someone else.
=>Fine, be the absconding street urchin
You are too busy absconding as quickly as your rather short legs will carry you to wonder why you are trying to be yourself. Your name is TAVROS NITRAM and you are what many call a "STREET RAT" or something. You were not always a STREET URCHIN, at least, you're pretty sure that you weren't. You are not quite sure because you think that you can remember living with your parents before they passed away, leaving you an ORPHAN at age six. Since then you have been living in a small room tucked away in the outer reaches of ALTERGRABAH. You do not mind the fact that it is small because it is only you, well you and your best friend, TINKERBULL. TINKERBULL is a small MONKEY that you found sick in a back corner near one of your favorite fruit stalls. You promptly decided to take him back to your home and nurse him back to health. Since then he has grown quite attached to you and watches over you like a GUARDIAN. Currently though, you realize that you should not be thinking about Tinkerbull, no, you should be trying to figure out how to avoid being killed by the city guards.
The sun beats down hot on Tavros' back as the mid-day heat begins to finally take it's toll. He isn't sure how long he's been running or how many turns he's made since they began chasing him. Honestly, all he did was borrow some fruit. Okay, well, uh, maybe he wasn't borrowing since he didn't intend to return it. He would if he could! But, he kind of, um, lacks the necessary funds to make that desire become a reality. That is, the desire where he is indeed returning fruit of similar value to the vendor that he had originally borrowed the fruit from. Either way, Tavros had thought that he was quite subtle with his pilfering of a ripe, yellow banana from the stand.
At least, he was subtle until he tripped over Tinkerbull (this was not the first time, nor would it be his last) and went sprawling into the display of fruits. Then they all just, sort of, fell...everywhere and the guards saw.
So Tavros fled faster than he had ever fled in his life (Like tripping, this was a common activity he was well versed in. If there was an Altergrabah Desert Games event for it, Tavros would win all of the available metals whilst still running away). Tinkerbull hopped into step behind him, running beside his feet with a few more bananas in hand.
"Tinkerbull! I told you we were only taking the one banana!" Tavros groaned. He didn't like to take more than what he really needed or that he thought would be missed. But then again, all of the vendors fruit was on the floor, so how could he miss it? Tavros' stomach growled.
Yeah, he'd let this one go.
However, the pack of guards behind him did not appear to be nearly as forgiving as he was.
Expletive! Expletive! Expletive! They were gaining on him, following every turn and dip that he made with perfect accuracy while still accelerating towards him. Each time one of his feet hit the sandy floor, their feet had already hit twice or three times more. The chase continues from alleyways to rooftops as Tavros takes bold leaps across the gaps, feet chasing each other through the air as he basically flies to the next roof. Had this been any other situation, Tavros probably would have made several very tough high-pitched squeals because, ohmygosh he definitely just flew like his favorite hero from that storybook his parents almost certainly read to him. The added adrenaline of just clearing a ridiculously perfect jump adds to his drive and he manages to shake the guards off by ducking into a herd of sheep. They pass him by unaware and he has to bite his hand to keep from giggling.
Oh, ew, his hand tastes terrib--Ugh! Bad sheep! Very, very bad sheep! Tavros grumbles to himself, shaking his hands of the wet clay he so gracefully had shoved his hands into upon hiding. A majority of it falls to the floor in a little pile of soft clay, but enough remains to make him want to rinse off his hands at the Market Fountain. Oh, wait, the guards. Maybe he can slip back in unnoticed with a hood on or something? Yeah, that'll work. Tavros sees no flaws in this plan. Nope. None. Whatsoever. So, he decides to head back.
=> Be the unaccompanied young woman in the Market Square that wishes to purchase some of the delectable commodities this diligent merchant before you is selling.
Man, you don't even know what the fuck all that noise even means. You just wanted to buy some of that sweet ass bread on the table, but this angry looking motherfucker is demanding some money back. And you would be all up and giving it to him if you hadn't of forgotten that shit at home; no pockets in this hood thing any motherfucking way. You tried to explain that to the brother, but he just kept on screeching about 'ungrateful beggar temptresses always trying to take what's his and never trying to stop being a beggar' or some other mess like that. Fuck if you know, you're high as a kite off that hit from your hookah you took before bringing your silly ass in here. Man, that was a motherfucking miraculous hit; made you feel all floaty and shit, like you were all up and flying on a motherfucking carpet or something. That would be fucking bitchtits, wind blowing through your hair in the cool night sky and being able to stare at all the little ant looking brothers and sisters below you. A motherfucking miracle, man.
=> Stop daydreaming about flashing your ass to the entire city of Altergrabah whilst getting your chuckle on like a laughsassin.
Yeah, you figure you might as well stop dreaming about that fucking pipe dream and focus back in on your tiny vendor brother. Oh, shit. The angry looking motherfucker is screaming for the guards all of the sudden. What'd you even do to him to get him all riled up and red in the face; bro looks sunburned as shit the way his face is burning.
=> Look at hands, numbnuts.
You glance down at your hands to notice that, wow, you've been eating the bread this whole time. You try to remember when you motherfucking bought it when you catch a word of the yelling motherfuckers rant:
'No, you asshole. You didn't buy the fucking bread, so stop eating it and pay right now before the guards come over here and slap fives with your hands after they painfully detach them from your useless body so slowly that you cry for mercy to what ever bigger asshole let you wander around this square by yourself. Because for fucks' sake, who let's their woman walk around alone? They must have the most damaged brain to ever develop into it's sorry existence. So damaged that all the world's top scientists would not be able to identify just how such a horribly demented mind could even exist thus leading to years of fucking heated debate over whether or not it was a consequence of a poor series of evolution or whether God decided to fuck with the world by sending this one unreasonably damaged individual as a plague upon it.' And the angry little bro just keeps on going too, you don't even know where he's keeping all that motherfucking air, but you decide to let him keep going until he's done.
=> Be the angry little bro that just finished his novel of a rant.
No. Fuck this shit. You do not wish to introduce yourself as KARKAT VANTAS the SHORTEST vendor in the Market Square. You are not going to specify how you sell SWEET BAKED GOODS from your meager stand and often have to deal with people like this woman in front of you. You absolutely can not stand her and just how dumb she is; what is she? High? Either way, you don't want to have to deal with this camel shit right now because it is hot and you tend to have a thin TEMPER when it's hot. Which is always because you live in the desert like a fucking idiot. You're torn from your brief moment of lament over not packing up and heading out to cooler pastures by the woman speaking yet again. What the actual fuck is wrong with her voice? It sounds man-ish and--wait a second. Did you just accidentally do an introduction paragraph for yourself?
=> Discover that you are but a pawn in the grander story, then proceed to flip your shit.
Nope. You're not playing into this any longer. No shit shall be flipped today. Not a single one.
=> Freak out now. No stand shall remain un-turned.
Oh, but look, asshole! Your stand remains perfectly un-turned with all of your delicious goods on top of it. When you said you weren't going to play along anymore, you meant it. You're not the author's marionette; you will not dance at the flick of the wrist like some dumb little...puppet. You have free will over all that you do and no one shall tell you otherwise.
=> Karkat: Stop breaking the fourth wall and talk to the woman.
What was that? Ignore the ugly woman and go back to selling cheap bread at a fraction of the cost of your neighboring competitors? The very best bread around made from premium wheat and baked to perfection in a traditional brick oven? Why, you think you'll do that right now!
=> Quit this nonsense. Now.
Karkat watches the woman with unmasked annoyance, unamused by his current loss of product and the fact that he probably wasn't getting repaid in the slightest. He turned his head to the side, simultaneously breaking the subconscious stare-off and letting out a small sigh before quietly grumbling to himself. She was alone and had stolen from him, the correct thing to do would be to tell the guards. However, and this part nagged at him the loudest, she obviously lacked any malicious intent and didn't really seem to be in her right mind. But, it would be a crime to not report her crime and he really didn't want to have to see the head Legislative Judge; that woman was batshit insane. Ugh.
"Woman." Karkat said, addressing her with the anger barely contained in his voice.
She glanced at him confusedly before speaking, "Bro, I--."
"Just listen. I will not report you to the authorities as long as you provide some form of payment or whatever by this time next week. You had better be fucking thankful too because I could have just got your thought deficient ass locked up as we speak and spared myself some of this trouble." Yeah, he felt pretty magnanimous. Hero to the suffering or something. He'd think about a good title later when he wasn't having to deal with her.
"Alright, that's pretty motherfucking nice of you, man. But, I just gotta let you know: I ain't a sis." She--er, he grinned, slightly pointed teeth exposed. Damn, she had some canines on her.
Er--Him. He. Wait...What?
And then the cave collapsed.
=> Be the conniving Grand Vizier to the Sultan of Altergrabah
You are not conniving, you are just trying to figure out how to take control of the power that should be rightfully yours. Well, you shouldn't say "trying to figure out" because you know how to do it. Sort of. You know you need that lamp and that the stupid thief you sent in to retrieve it completely failed. Of course, you had briefly considered that as a possible conclusion. The old peddler back in the market had told you that only a "diamond in the rough" could retrieve the lamp you seeked. What the hell does that even mean? Either way, you're pretty sure that street bum you had pulled off the street was no diamond; just rough. And maybe a little bit drunk? Yeah, probably not what the peddler meant. But oh well, soon enough you, and your bumbling assistant, will obtain the lamp and then nothing will dare to stand in your way.
=> Do the introduction thing in that one style with the random, yet significant capitalizations of words.
NO! It's not time for you to be introduced yet. Your role is simply too big and important to have a lazy, poorly written introduction about you. Plus, you have a loooooooot of also really important business to attend to right now. One could even say you have a lot of metaphorical irons in a metaphorical fire, but who is actually cool enough to say that to you? Not your friends; those jealous bitches don't tend to talk to you much, as if you care. Of course, you'll also toss out your bumbling assistant because, well, he is a bumbling assistant and what he is is lame. Now, as you already said, you're busy. Go bug someone else.
=>Fine, be the absconding street urchin
You are too busy absconding as quickly as your rather short legs will carry you to wonder why you are trying to be yourself. Your name is TAVROS NITRAM and you are what many call a "STREET RAT" or something. You were not always a STREET URCHIN, at least, you're pretty sure that you weren't. You are not quite sure because you think that you can remember living with your parents before they passed away, leaving you an ORPHAN at age six. Since then you have been living in a small room tucked away in the outer reaches of ALTERGRABAH. You do not mind the fact that it is small because it is only you, well you and your best friend, TINKERBULL. TINKERBULL is a small MONKEY that you found sick in a back corner near one of your favorite fruit stalls. You promptly decided to take him back to your home and nurse him back to health. Since then he has grown quite attached to you and watches over you like a GUARDIAN. Currently though, you realize that you should not be thinking about Tinkerbull, no, you should be trying to figure out how to avoid being killed by the city guards.
The sun beats down hot on Tavros' back as the mid-day heat begins to finally take it's toll. He isn't sure how long he's been running or how many turns he's made since they began chasing him. Honestly, all he did was borrow some fruit. Okay, well, uh, maybe he wasn't borrowing since he didn't intend to return it. He would if he could! But, he kind of, um, lacks the necessary funds to make that desire become a reality. That is, the desire where he is indeed returning fruit of similar value to the vendor that he had originally borrowed the fruit from. Either way, Tavros had thought that he was quite subtle with his pilfering of a ripe, yellow banana from the stand.
At least, he was subtle until he tripped over Tinkerbull (this was not the first time, nor would it be his last) and went sprawling into the display of fruits. Then they all just, sort of, fell...everywhere and the guards saw.
So Tavros fled faster than he had ever fled in his life (Like tripping, this was a common activity he was well versed in. If there was an Altergrabah Desert Games event for it, Tavros would win all of the available metals whilst still running away). Tinkerbull hopped into step behind him, running beside his feet with a few more bananas in hand.
"Tinkerbull! I told you we were only taking the one banana!" Tavros groaned. He didn't like to take more than what he really needed or that he thought would be missed. But then again, all of the vendors fruit was on the floor, so how could he miss it? Tavros' stomach growled.
Yeah, he'd let this one go.
However, the pack of guards behind him did not appear to be nearly as forgiving as he was.
Expletive! Expletive! Expletive! They were gaining on him, following every turn and dip that he made with perfect accuracy while still accelerating towards him. Each time one of his feet hit the sandy floor, their feet had already hit twice or three times more. The chase continues from alleyways to rooftops as Tavros takes bold leaps across the gaps, feet chasing each other through the air as he basically flies to the next roof. Had this been any other situation, Tavros probably would have made several very tough high-pitched squeals because, ohmygosh he definitely just flew like his favorite hero from that storybook his parents almost certainly read to him. The added adrenaline of just clearing a ridiculously perfect jump adds to his drive and he manages to shake the guards off by ducking into a herd of sheep. They pass him by unaware and he has to bite his hand to keep from giggling.
Oh, ew, his hand tastes terrib--Ugh! Bad sheep! Very, very bad sheep! Tavros grumbles to himself, shaking his hands of the wet clay he so gracefully had shoved his hands into upon hiding. A majority of it falls to the floor in a little pile of soft clay, but enough remains to make him want to rinse off his hands at the Market Fountain. Oh, wait, the guards. Maybe he can slip back in unnoticed with a hood on or something? Yeah, that'll work. Tavros sees no flaws in this plan. Nope. None. Whatsoever. So, he decides to head back.
=> Be the unaccompanied young woman in the Market Square that wishes to purchase some of the delectable commodities this diligent merchant before you is selling.
Man, you don't even know what the fuck all that noise even means. You just wanted to buy some of that sweet ass bread on the table, but this angry looking motherfucker is demanding some money back. And you would be all up and giving it to him if you hadn't of forgotten that shit at home; no pockets in this hood thing any motherfucking way. You tried to explain that to the brother, but he just kept on screeching about 'ungrateful beggar temptresses always trying to take what's his and never trying to stop being a beggar' or some other mess like that. Fuck if you know, you're high as a kite off that hit from your hookah you took before bringing your silly ass in here. Man, that was a motherfucking miraculous hit; made you feel all floaty and shit, like you were all up and flying on a motherfucking carpet or something. That would be fucking bitchtits, wind blowing through your hair in the cool night sky and being able to stare at all the little ant looking brothers and sisters below you. A motherfucking miracle, man.
=> Stop daydreaming about flashing your ass to the entire city of Altergrabah whilst getting your chuckle on like a laughsassin.
Yeah, you figure you might as well stop dreaming about that fucking pipe dream and focus back in on your tiny vendor brother. Oh, shit. The angry looking motherfucker is screaming for the guards all of the sudden. What'd you even do to him to get him all riled up and red in the face; bro looks sunburned as shit the way his face is burning.
=> Look at hands, numbnuts.
You glance down at your hands to notice that, wow, you've been eating the bread this whole time. You try to remember when you motherfucking bought it when you catch a word of the yelling motherfuckers rant:
'No, you asshole. You didn't buy the fucking bread, so stop eating it and pay right now before the guards come over here and slap fives with your hands after they painfully detach them from your useless body so slowly that you cry for mercy to what ever bigger asshole let you wander around this square by yourself. Because for fucks' sake, who let's their woman walk around alone? They must have the most damaged brain to ever develop into it's sorry existence. So damaged that all the world's top scientists would not be able to identify just how such a horribly demented mind could even exist thus leading to years of fucking heated debate over whether or not it was a consequence of a poor series of evolution or whether God decided to fuck with the world by sending this one unreasonably damaged individual as a plague upon it.' And the angry little bro just keeps on going too, you don't even know where he's keeping all that motherfucking air, but you decide to let him keep going until he's done.
=> Be the angry little bro that just finished his novel of a rant.
No. Fuck this shit. You do not wish to introduce yourself as KARKAT VANTAS the SHORTEST vendor in the Market Square. You are not going to specify how you sell SWEET BAKED GOODS from your meager stand and often have to deal with people like this woman in front of you. You absolutely can not stand her and just how dumb she is; what is she? High? Either way, you don't want to have to deal with this camel shit right now because it is hot and you tend to have a thin TEMPER when it's hot. Which is always because you live in the desert like a fucking idiot. You're torn from your brief moment of lament over not packing up and heading out to cooler pastures by the woman speaking yet again. What the actual fuck is wrong with her voice? It sounds man-ish and--wait a second. Did you just accidentally do an introduction paragraph for yourself?
=> Discover that you are but a pawn in the grander story, then proceed to flip your shit.
Nope. You're not playing into this any longer. No shit shall be flipped today. Not a single one.
=> Freak out now. No stand shall remain un-turned.
Oh, but look, asshole! Your stand remains perfectly un-turned with all of your delicious goods on top of it. When you said you weren't going to play along anymore, you meant it. You're not the author's marionette; you will not dance at the flick of the wrist like some dumb little...puppet. You have free will over all that you do and no one shall tell you otherwise.
=> Karkat: Stop breaking the fourth wall and talk to the woman.
What was that? Ignore the ugly woman and go back to selling cheap bread at a fraction of the cost of your neighboring competitors? The very best bread around made from premium wheat and baked to perfection in a traditional brick oven? Why, you think you'll do that right now!
=> Quit this nonsense. Now.
Karkat watches the woman with unmasked annoyance, unamused by his current loss of product and the fact that he probably wasn't getting repaid in the slightest. He turned his head to the side, simultaneously breaking the subconscious stare-off and letting out a small sigh before quietly grumbling to himself. She was alone and had stolen from him, the correct thing to do would be to tell the guards. However, and this part nagged at him the loudest, she obviously lacked any malicious intent and didn't really seem to be in her right mind. But, it would be a crime to not report her crime and he really didn't want to have to see the head Legislative Judge; that woman was batshit insane. Ugh.
"Woman." Karkat said, addressing her with the anger barely contained in his voice.
She glanced at him confusedly before speaking, "Bro, I--."
"Just listen. I will not report you to the authorities as long as you provide some form of payment or whatever by this time next week. You had better be fucking thankful too because I could have just got your thought deficient ass locked up as we speak and spared myself some of this trouble." Yeah, he felt pretty magnanimous. Hero to the suffering or something. He'd think about a good title later when he wasn't having to deal with her.
"Alright, that's pretty motherfucking nice of you, man. But, I just gotta let you know: I ain't a sis." She--er, he grinned, slightly pointed teeth exposed. Damn, she had some canines on her.
Er--Him. He. Wait...What?