Application- Paradox Space
[PLAYER]
Name: Sig
Contact: [AIM] napalmClockwork
[UNIVERSE]
An AU of the original human session wherein the elder Strider was ectobiologically created female.
[CHARACTER]
Name: Sis Strider
Role: Guardian
Species: Human
Age: Unknown- presumed late 20s
Online Handle: analogueEqualizer
Type/Speech: Sis types in a laid back manner with very little punctuation but always using capitalization for names places and anywhere else it might be grammatically correct
plus the occasional ironic emote (;
otherwise she pretty much just goes with the flow and types shit as it pops into her head
Strife Portfolio: bladeKind- If it’s got a blade and a handle, Sis can use it, no ifs, ands or buts about it. It’s also assumed that projectile weapons (throwing knives, ninja stars) also fall into this category as Sis tends to keep them in the Strider household in spades.
puppetKind- More of a diversionary tactic than anything, Sis uses Lil Cal to mess with her opponent’s heads while she messes up their world.
Psychic/Magic/Other Abilities:
+ Ninja speed- Sis is fast enough to use Lil’ Cal to fight Dave while only leaving a vague shadow of herself to be seen.
+ Ridiculous strength- She cut a meteor in half with a ninja sword and nothing else. Girlfriend is legit.
+ Combat skills- Sis is possessed of the ‘bladeKind’ strife specibus- which pretty much means if it’s got a blade, she can fuck your shit up with it. However, she’s also proficient with throwing weapons and using puppets (specifically, Lil Cal) in combat, and can and will switch between them at will at any given point in a fight. When she really wants to mess you up though, she sticks to a fairly basic ninjato and Lil Cal in tandem- though she has no problem sacrificing Cal for the sake of a fight.
+ Poker Face of Steel- This woman can say pretty much anything like it’s God’s own truth and still come off as the smoothest motherfucker on the planet no matter how ridiculous what she’s saying sounds.
+ Sylladex- Like most characters in Homestuck, Sis has a Sylladex in which she stores items. She can store anything in there. Anything.
+ Sis has actually weaponized her Sylladex- she and Dave both have the Hash modus, and both employ the use of strategic phrasing in their battles to launch the (usually sharp as shit) contents of their Sylladices at each other.
History: Your name is SIS STRIDER and ever since you can remember, you’ve had nightmares.
Not just any nightmares though- yours tended to alternate between visions of your own death (you knew it was you only because you saw it through your own eyes) and the end of the world, decimation coming in the form of meteor upon meteor from the sky.
Growing up with them was hard- it was hard and nobody understood, not even the parents that had so dutifully taken such good care of you, had been so proud of you when you turned out to be a ‘prodigy’- their little genius. They gave you everything they thought you wanted (mostly a lot of things you didn’t) and the best education an upper middle-class girl could ask for. You’ve always known what you’d eventually have to do though, and because of it you were always quiet, always slightly withdrawn, not attaching yourself to your ‘family’ any more than you needed to. Even back then, cool detachment was a strong suit of yours- you didn’t go out of your way to be friendly or unfriendly to those you grew up around- you simply were.
Sometimes though- sometimes you had dreams, and in those dreams, things you were meant to do, places you were meant to go and people you were meant to meet tended to come up. They weren’t always easy to understand, and sometimes you didn’t even bother trying- but you always, always, knew they were right, one way or another.
When you graduated (fourteen, valedictorian, Presidential Honor Roll and boy were your parents proud) though, you pretty much fell off the face of the Earth. Your savings accounts never knew what hit ‘em (money used to be so much easier to fuck around with) and neither did your parents, since you left nothing more than a note that said ‘Thanks for everything, you’ll understand eventually’. Except you knew they wouldn’t. They’d never understand, but that was probably for the best- ignorance is bliss and all that bullshit, right? Now- what you did between that day and the day you arrived at that record store to discover Dave sitting in that crater is a mystery to everyone- and you would rather it stayed that way for reasons you won’t divulge. Shit is complicated, too complicated- but needless to say that in your travels you ran into some people that you were always meant to know- though not to say you wanted to know them, when it came to some.
After Dave though, your life pretty much revolved around taking care of and providing for that newly-acquired charge- a task to which you took with a single-minded sort of intensity. The two of you weren’t rich by any means (not at first, at least), but they weren’t lacking either, your savvy with technology helping you to set up websites to make a pretty penny off of chumps with too much money and not enough social skills. Those alongside part-time jobs were more than enough to keep the both of you going at first, and to provide you with the beginnings of the small arsenal that would eventually reside in the Strider household.
When Dave was old enough to attend school, you started supplementing the income from the websites with a slightly more steady job DJing, leaving him with sitters until you thought he was old enough to stay at home by himself. At that point, Dave was beginning to become a rather self-sufficient little net-ninja in his own right, and you pretended not to notice when your little brother suddenly had more disposable income than a boy his age should. If the kid had game, why the hell not let him run it? Your gigs became more frequent and more distant, and you began to see less and less of Dave when you weren’t sparring with him or teaching him a lesson vital to his future survival. And while that worked out fine enough, you weren’t ever really too happy about it. But you knew, of course, that he’d have to get used to not having you around eventually- and why not sooner rather than later, right?
Still, just because you didn’t often let Dave see you didn’t mean you didn’t take every opportunity to see him, flickering and flash-stepping through the house to move things around and keep him on his toes. Maybe if you’d been around more, he’d have been a more sociable kid- but ‘sociable’ wasn’t going to help him any in the Medium- besides, he had all the friends he’d ever need in the other Players, why would he need anyone else? Codependency has no place with Striders- but you think you might have messed up in that regard just a little.
Your name is SIS STRIDER, and you are taking part in the END OF THE WORLD AS YOU KNOW IT.
To be honest, you’ve always been meant to help it happen. Funny how it’s not some big biblical apocalypse or natural disaster- though the meteors sure make it seem like it could be either. No, the end of the world is happening because of a game- a game you’ve been training your little brother to win. You won’t have much effect on the outcome- as his GUARDIAN you can only do so much- it’s his job as a PLAYER and as the KNIGHT OF TIME to make this shit happen.
That doesn’t mean you’re not going to do anything you can to make it easier on him and the other players- his three best friends.
In the end, that turns out to be taking on the session’s unforeseen Big Bag with a self-prototyped version of your little brother from a doomed timeline. It’s almost fucking poetic. The two of you work as a unit in a way you know Alpha Dave won’t be able to match for a while still- and while that fills you with pride it also worries you more than you’ll ever admit. But even a united Strider front can’t handle it when the last prototyping of the session happens, and the already nightmarish thing you’d been fighting becomes the thing your real nightmares have always been made of. You don’t back down, and neither does Davesprite, and while you both know it’s a mistake, it’s not one either of you cares much about, because it’s necessary.
Your name is SIS STRIDER and your job is done.
Personality: Sis Strider is the baddest broad you’ll ever meet, that most women will ever wish to be, and most guys will never, ever get. Or at least, that’s the way she’d put it if she was ever asked to describe herself.
In all reality, Sis is pretty badass- she’s calm, collected and cool at all times, sometimes infuriatingly so, never really deigning to react to things outside of a raised eyebrow or the odd upward or downward tilt of her lips. She tends to be smug and overall self-satisfied, very much aware of how talented, attractive and overall incredible she is. While most of the time it can be (and uh, usually is) irritating as Hell, Sis is also irrevocably charming when she needs to be. Usually, however, she finds that being as straightforward and blunt as possible actually suits her best, and she’s not really one much for sugarcoating anyway. Sis isn’t afraid of much either- hell the girl uses live steel and owns a rocket board- so it stands to reason that the things that scare most people barely faze her. She’s pretty smart-mouthed too, always ready with a witty retort or a sharp barb to counter anything thrown her way (disclaimer: the mun makes no guarantees that she is this witty). She has a bit of a mischievous streak, prone to playing pranks on her younger brother whenever the urge strikes- which is often- and using the cameras hidden around the apartment for various ‘other’ reasons to capture the incidents.
Speaking of her younger brother, Sis is (in her own, oftentimes roundabout way) fiercely protective of Dave, despite the fact that she pretty much beats the shit out of him on a regular basis in the form of ‘training’. The sibling rivalry Dave thinks they share is her way of preparing for what she knows is coming when SBURB happens, and isn’t actually an effort to one-up him in any manner. She doesn’t really need to, honestly- Dave’s good, but Sis will always be better, and she knows it. That doesn’t stop her from ‘encouraging’ him to try and beat her though- but it does make her conscious of the fact that she’s so aware of Dave’s shortcomings because she cares more about him than she’d care to admit. Caring isn’t really a thing that Striders are supposed to express, or at least that’s what Sis has always tried to impress upon Dave, her incredible poker face usually keeping her from showing very much emotion at all. Just because she won’t show it doesn’t mean she doesn’t feel it, and Dave is actually Sis’s main motivator for all the things she’s had to learn and do, and while some might take that to mean she doesn’t like it, that’s just not true. The things she’s had to do for Dave have never been a burden, and while they haven’t always been easy to do, she’s done them readily and without qualm.
Even if those things aren’t always likely to end well.
Sylladex:
- 1 'ninja sword' (previously in her chest)
- 1 Rocket Board
[SAMPLES]
Memo: sweet Jesus Mary Joseph and his Technicolor dreamcoat boys and girls
lemme see if I got this fucking situation right so I don’t have to keep myself guessing if this bullshit is even for real for any longer than I gotta
you brats fucked up and got your space player killed
and somehow this shitty little program you got running
is hauling in poor unsuspecting dumbasses plus yours truly in left and right
like a goddamn black hole of rampant bullshit and inconvenience
and as far as I can figure it we’re all stuck here until we make you guys that fucking not-really-metaphorical universe frog
so you fucknubs can get the fuck right on with your session and not die a hideous death via paradox space
because you can’t handle a little doom
well la-dee-fucking-da
cry me a river build me a bridge and get the fuck over it
I’m not even a player dumbshits good job
what the fuck am I supposed to do the entire time I’m here
host fucking dance parties for whatever retarded little consorts you have on these planets
why the fuck not it’s not like I got anything better to do
shit let’s have a rave
Action log:
===> Sis : Die
You’ve already done that, and frankly, you’re not really too keen on reliving the experience, and definitely not anytime soon.
===> Sis: Wake the fuck up
You’re already way the fuck ahead of this course of action, having skipped straight to ‘Sis: find a house or something’ and are now browsing the shitty intranet or whatever it is they have set up in this place for answers. So far, you’re not liking what you’re seeing.
===> Do an acrobatic fucking pirouette of the handle
What? No, fuck that, what are you, turning into fucking Dave?
===> …Do something productive?
Already done. You kick back in front of the shitty little computer they have in this place and wonder just who decided this was a good combination for a planet while you wait for the kids responsible for this clusterfuck to show their miserable little e-faces. Maybe you can be convinced not to school their asses on the proper way to beg a Strider for their assistance instead of these trans-dimensional timey-wimey bullshit ploys. In the meantime though, you sure would like a fucking drink. Maybe there was still shit in the fridge here.
Hopefully that something wouldn’t be a bunch of shitty swords, or else you’d have to call shenanigans on the universe.
Even if it would be ironic as fuck.