Man-D √ post 015 [fiction]
Title: The People You Never Forget
Rating: PG
Fandom: Homestuck, set in Soul Campaign's TYL!Verse
Characters: Dave Strider, Jade Harley, Rose Lalonde, John Egbert
Warnings: Descriptions of violence, major character death
Summary: The future is never what is expected, of course. You always expected it to be a lot different, and set somewhere else entirely. The time passes linearly in Death City. You were not prepared.
---
The time passes linearly in Death City. There is no need for stable time loops, no need for the powers of someone who has spent his entire life before he came here dabbling in time. Just ten long years go by, years that are spent fighting witches and gaining new scars. You can’t believe that ten years passed, and you weren’t sent home. Briefly you wonder if you were ever meant to go back. You wonder if BREW, somewhere along the line, forgot who was really from Shibusen and who came from different worlds.
Oh, there were good things, of course. John finally got up the courage to talk to Rose, when they got old enough, and even though the two never partnered, you know that he visits her every night. Rose’s partner -- someone you rarely ever talk to, because you have your own things to take care of -- is a nice enough girl, but she gives John and Rose the room for the nights and takes the couch. They don’t want to get married, it’s too risky. So instead, they enjoy each other’s company night after night, tucked in beside each other as if they might be separated in the morning.
John has turned out lanky but strong, like his father. It was the strangest day, to see your dorky friend change into a somewhat handsome and dorky man. You’re still not used to the fact that he is slightly taller than you, slightly skinnier and knob-kneed. You filled out, whereas John seems to have shrunk in ten years. His department is the front soldiers, and you worry about him when he has to fight. He’s not used for strategic missions so much as general battle, and that’s what worries you. Once, you could help him out. Now, as you both nod at each other in the hallways, you know he doesn’t need it. So you tell him to keep his paws off of your sister, and he laughs, and you go your separate ways.
Rose has turned out beautiful -- you knew she would, since it was in the veins and you turned out pretty damn perfect. Slender and tall, she graces the Shibusen officals with her presence as one of the few people who attained the title of Death Scythe before Shibusen was driven underground. Rose was always good enough to do that, though. You remember her as she was when she was younger, always scheming up one thing or another, and you wonder if this was ever in her plans. Probably not, you tell yourself. Rose still acts like she hates the place, even years after the fact. When she goes back to her world in the medium, she will probably cry in relief. If Rose cried any more, that is. Rose hasn’t cried since the day her first partner was blasted to pieces in front of her. The day that she realized that no matter how powerful, a Weapon is only as good as its Meister was the day she swore to you that she would never cry again.
Jade’s grown up as well. You remember the little girl, no longer so little and much more battle-worn these days, when you see her in the corridors. She is usually discussing military tactics with others of her group; somewhere along the line, they realized that her precision in battle made her an effective soldier. And Jade’s heart, the thing she gave so freely, made her the most endearing captain that any man could ever ask for. She smiles at her troops -- she calls them her family -- and tells them that everything will be okay. That even if it isn’t, they will get to go home. They believe her, faces shining with anticipation. They believe her as they step into battle with the witches, facing their own death and the death of their partners as well. And they are still smiling when you go to find the dead, the pieces of their body irreparably missing. You find their smiling heads, and though you can’t hear it, you know that somewhere Jade is crying for them. In ten years, she has never stopped crying for them.
Though it’s not your hand she holds when she needs one. Jade found herself a partner -- Matt, the boy who she practically jumped on her first day in Death City, has proved himself more than worthy, time and again. They have their moments, and sometimes they fight, but you know that when you spy them holding hands and walking toward the briefing room that they have made up. Jade doesn’t need you to fight her battles for her any more. With her Weapon partner and a smile on her face, hiding those tears, she can fight her own. Somewhere along the line, she grew up into a woman. Twenty-three years old and radiant, hair pulled back into a low ponytail, you are still impressed. She brushes off compliments from her men, telling them to get their heads in the game, to pay attention. They learn that flattery really doesn’t get them any closer to her bed soon enough.
You live on your own, and you’re fine with that. Dave Strider has never needed a partner, really, and though Jade has wielded you in the past, letting you become a Death Scythe as well (though ages after Rose), you still don’t like the feeling of being possessed. It chills you, to know that someone can understand your soul well enough to be in tandem with it. So you hide in your room, taking lone missions to the calming wavelength camp and the Varia on the outskirts of the desert, riding a motorcyle alone through the desert. You’re not worried about the witches attacking. Too many of them know you, and they remember. They remember how at seventeen, a girl with wild green eyes slaughtered one of their leaders, red blood dripping down her sword. Matt had been sick, and so you had stepped in, telling her you would keep her safe. And Jade told you that she loved you, that she hoped you would always be by her side. You would always be her knight.
Sometimes, when she can’t sleep, she leaves Matt’s side and wanders down the corridors until she reaches your room. Her knock on the door is always soft, tentative, as if you could possibly turn her away. You know that she and Matt are only platonic partners, but it still hurts to be the second choice, the option when all else fails. Still, you pull her inside and let her curl up next to you, her dark hair smelling of lavender, her favorite scent. You wrap your arms around her and she smiles, though you can’t see it, and tells you that she loves you.
Jade tells you that she loves you when she presses her lips to yours, softly, then again with more force, more intensity. She trembles, and you wrap her in your arms, telling her that it’s all right. It’s not her fault that hundreds have died. She cries, tears staining your chest, naming every man and woman she has sent to death. She knows them all by name, where they came from, what their stories were. And you sit there and hug her and let her cry. You listen, like a knight should. And you don’t tell her that when you found them, there was a note with them. Tell our captain that we love her. You know that it would only make her cry more, and you are sure that she already knows.
The night before the final day, though of course you didn’t know that at the time, Jade slips into your room again, curling up next to you and staying silent. You aren’t sure what’s going on -- you aren’t a part of the battles, generally only the aftermath. Jade shivers and rolls over to face you, eyes small without their usual spectacles. She tells you that she loves you before closing her eyes, letting you hold her. Letting you guard her.
That day, she would be gone. All of them would be gone. You would find Rose first, her meister only feet away from her, their hands clasped. Rose had told you once that she loved the girl, and you had never spoken of it again. But now you were certain you believed her. The look of terror on both women’s faces was nothing compared to the holes ripped through their bodies, the work of a modified witch or one of the few Shibusen deserters. You can’t bring yourself to tell anyone that they are your friends. You let someone else take care of them, and refuse to cry.
John is next, as you get closer to the building. You know that the mess of ashes was meant to be him, because his traditional dorky glasses sit askew in the middle, the only thing not affected by the magical fire. You assume that his partner was burned as well, though you will never know. John probably died doing something ridiculous, you say to yourself. And although you know that dying most likely means going back, you have to wonder if he is really gone. Your friend the dork, your best friend, is now nothing more than a pile of dust. There is nothing you could have done to prevent it.
Finally, as your reconnaissance team nears the center of the building, scouring for any leftover witches and taking them out one by one, you spy her meister. There are two halves to the man, the boy who used to be Jade’s favorite person. The witch’s soul is still in its same position, obviously left after Jade and Matt took her out. But one of the modified witches -- you spy the boy in the corner, half wolf and half human -- was not yet dead. Matt wasn’t someone you knew very well, but you feel bad for him, knowing that he would not survive and yet taking the fatal blow for his meister anyway. He was a good person, you tell yourself. He loved your own witch almost as much as you did, which was saying something. You loved her a lot.
She is glorious in death, though you knew she would be. She lays near the now defeated enemy, glassy green eyes staring into some unforgiving universe that you cannot hope to see. She is smiling of course, as were all of her men, as was her partner. They all smile when they die, and you know why. They smile for the dream of going home, for the dream of getting their lives back. But they also smile because they know they have not died in vain. Clutched in her hand is a piece of paper; you know that she always writes messages and holds them when she is afraid that she won’t live. She’s told you this before. But you can’t bring yourself to read it. You can’t even bring yourself to take it with you. Instead, you slide a colorful reminder off of her thumb (red, for you Dave!) and place it on your pinkie, leaving the room for others to find.
You’ll always be my knight, Dave. I love you.
That night, you wonder if it’s the right decision. It’s probably not what she would have wanted, but right now you are running out of options, and your time is drawing to a close. The war is not yet over, though it is slowly looking as if it is won. You do not have the time to wait. Your friends need you. And if you stay here, they will not win the game. SBURB seems foggy to you now, an ancient past, something out of storybooks. But you cannot live in this wasteland without them. The eyes of your friends and the pile of ashes remind you that you are needed, that the four of you must go together. You are the knight. You have to be there. If there is any chance that you could get home, you are willing to take it.
So you take Jade’s favorite gun, the one she gave you to protect yourself, and you pull the trigger.
Rating: PG
Fandom: Homestuck, set in Soul Campaign's TYL!Verse
Characters: Dave Strider, Jade Harley, Rose Lalonde, John Egbert
Warnings: Descriptions of violence, major character death
Summary: The future is never what is expected, of course. You always expected it to be a lot different, and set somewhere else entirely. The time passes linearly in Death City. You were not prepared.
---
The time passes linearly in Death City. There is no need for stable time loops, no need for the powers of someone who has spent his entire life before he came here dabbling in time. Just ten long years go by, years that are spent fighting witches and gaining new scars. You can’t believe that ten years passed, and you weren’t sent home. Briefly you wonder if you were ever meant to go back. You wonder if BREW, somewhere along the line, forgot who was really from Shibusen and who came from different worlds.
Oh, there were good things, of course. John finally got up the courage to talk to Rose, when they got old enough, and even though the two never partnered, you know that he visits her every night. Rose’s partner -- someone you rarely ever talk to, because you have your own things to take care of -- is a nice enough girl, but she gives John and Rose the room for the nights and takes the couch. They don’t want to get married, it’s too risky. So instead, they enjoy each other’s company night after night, tucked in beside each other as if they might be separated in the morning.
John has turned out lanky but strong, like his father. It was the strangest day, to see your dorky friend change into a somewhat handsome and dorky man. You’re still not used to the fact that he is slightly taller than you, slightly skinnier and knob-kneed. You filled out, whereas John seems to have shrunk in ten years. His department is the front soldiers, and you worry about him when he has to fight. He’s not used for strategic missions so much as general battle, and that’s what worries you. Once, you could help him out. Now, as you both nod at each other in the hallways, you know he doesn’t need it. So you tell him to keep his paws off of your sister, and he laughs, and you go your separate ways.
Rose has turned out beautiful -- you knew she would, since it was in the veins and you turned out pretty damn perfect. Slender and tall, she graces the Shibusen officals with her presence as one of the few people who attained the title of Death Scythe before Shibusen was driven underground. Rose was always good enough to do that, though. You remember her as she was when she was younger, always scheming up one thing or another, and you wonder if this was ever in her plans. Probably not, you tell yourself. Rose still acts like she hates the place, even years after the fact. When she goes back to her world in the medium, she will probably cry in relief. If Rose cried any more, that is. Rose hasn’t cried since the day her first partner was blasted to pieces in front of her. The day that she realized that no matter how powerful, a Weapon is only as good as its Meister was the day she swore to you that she would never cry again.
Jade’s grown up as well. You remember the little girl, no longer so little and much more battle-worn these days, when you see her in the corridors. She is usually discussing military tactics with others of her group; somewhere along the line, they realized that her precision in battle made her an effective soldier. And Jade’s heart, the thing she gave so freely, made her the most endearing captain that any man could ever ask for. She smiles at her troops -- she calls them her family -- and tells them that everything will be okay. That even if it isn’t, they will get to go home. They believe her, faces shining with anticipation. They believe her as they step into battle with the witches, facing their own death and the death of their partners as well. And they are still smiling when you go to find the dead, the pieces of their body irreparably missing. You find their smiling heads, and though you can’t hear it, you know that somewhere Jade is crying for them. In ten years, she has never stopped crying for them.
Though it’s not your hand she holds when she needs one. Jade found herself a partner -- Matt, the boy who she practically jumped on her first day in Death City, has proved himself more than worthy, time and again. They have their moments, and sometimes they fight, but you know that when you spy them holding hands and walking toward the briefing room that they have made up. Jade doesn’t need you to fight her battles for her any more. With her Weapon partner and a smile on her face, hiding those tears, she can fight her own. Somewhere along the line, she grew up into a woman. Twenty-three years old and radiant, hair pulled back into a low ponytail, you are still impressed. She brushes off compliments from her men, telling them to get their heads in the game, to pay attention. They learn that flattery really doesn’t get them any closer to her bed soon enough.
You live on your own, and you’re fine with that. Dave Strider has never needed a partner, really, and though Jade has wielded you in the past, letting you become a Death Scythe as well (though ages after Rose), you still don’t like the feeling of being possessed. It chills you, to know that someone can understand your soul well enough to be in tandem with it. So you hide in your room, taking lone missions to the calming wavelength camp and the Varia on the outskirts of the desert, riding a motorcyle alone through the desert. You’re not worried about the witches attacking. Too many of them know you, and they remember. They remember how at seventeen, a girl with wild green eyes slaughtered one of their leaders, red blood dripping down her sword. Matt had been sick, and so you had stepped in, telling her you would keep her safe. And Jade told you that she loved you, that she hoped you would always be by her side. You would always be her knight.
Sometimes, when she can’t sleep, she leaves Matt’s side and wanders down the corridors until she reaches your room. Her knock on the door is always soft, tentative, as if you could possibly turn her away. You know that she and Matt are only platonic partners, but it still hurts to be the second choice, the option when all else fails. Still, you pull her inside and let her curl up next to you, her dark hair smelling of lavender, her favorite scent. You wrap your arms around her and she smiles, though you can’t see it, and tells you that she loves you.
Jade tells you that she loves you when she presses her lips to yours, softly, then again with more force, more intensity. She trembles, and you wrap her in your arms, telling her that it’s all right. It’s not her fault that hundreds have died. She cries, tears staining your chest, naming every man and woman she has sent to death. She knows them all by name, where they came from, what their stories were. And you sit there and hug her and let her cry. You listen, like a knight should. And you don’t tell her that when you found them, there was a note with them. Tell our captain that we love her. You know that it would only make her cry more, and you are sure that she already knows.
The night before the final day, though of course you didn’t know that at the time, Jade slips into your room again, curling up next to you and staying silent. You aren’t sure what’s going on -- you aren’t a part of the battles, generally only the aftermath. Jade shivers and rolls over to face you, eyes small without their usual spectacles. She tells you that she loves you before closing her eyes, letting you hold her. Letting you guard her.
That day, she would be gone. All of them would be gone. You would find Rose first, her meister only feet away from her, their hands clasped. Rose had told you once that she loved the girl, and you had never spoken of it again. But now you were certain you believed her. The look of terror on both women’s faces was nothing compared to the holes ripped through their bodies, the work of a modified witch or one of the few Shibusen deserters. You can’t bring yourself to tell anyone that they are your friends. You let someone else take care of them, and refuse to cry.
John is next, as you get closer to the building. You know that the mess of ashes was meant to be him, because his traditional dorky glasses sit askew in the middle, the only thing not affected by the magical fire. You assume that his partner was burned as well, though you will never know. John probably died doing something ridiculous, you say to yourself. And although you know that dying most likely means going back, you have to wonder if he is really gone. Your friend the dork, your best friend, is now nothing more than a pile of dust. There is nothing you could have done to prevent it.
Finally, as your reconnaissance team nears the center of the building, scouring for any leftover witches and taking them out one by one, you spy her meister. There are two halves to the man, the boy who used to be Jade’s favorite person. The witch’s soul is still in its same position, obviously left after Jade and Matt took her out. But one of the modified witches -- you spy the boy in the corner, half wolf and half human -- was not yet dead. Matt wasn’t someone you knew very well, but you feel bad for him, knowing that he would not survive and yet taking the fatal blow for his meister anyway. He was a good person, you tell yourself. He loved your own witch almost as much as you did, which was saying something. You loved her a lot.
She is glorious in death, though you knew she would be. She lays near the now defeated enemy, glassy green eyes staring into some unforgiving universe that you cannot hope to see. She is smiling of course, as were all of her men, as was her partner. They all smile when they die, and you know why. They smile for the dream of going home, for the dream of getting their lives back. But they also smile because they know they have not died in vain. Clutched in her hand is a piece of paper; you know that she always writes messages and holds them when she is afraid that she won’t live. She’s told you this before. But you can’t bring yourself to read it. You can’t even bring yourself to take it with you. Instead, you slide a colorful reminder off of her thumb (red, for you Dave!) and place it on your pinkie, leaving the room for others to find.
You’ll always be my knight, Dave. I love you.
That night, you wonder if it’s the right decision. It’s probably not what she would have wanted, but right now you are running out of options, and your time is drawing to a close. The war is not yet over, though it is slowly looking as if it is won. You do not have the time to wait. Your friends need you. And if you stay here, they will not win the game. SBURB seems foggy to you now, an ancient past, something out of storybooks. But you cannot live in this wasteland without them. The eyes of your friends and the pile of ashes remind you that you are needed, that the four of you must go together. You are the knight. You have to be there. If there is any chance that you could get home, you are willing to take it.
So you take Jade’s favorite gun, the one she gave you to protect yourself, and you pull the trigger.