Even in death
Characters: Karkat Vantas hatchedtolead, Allen Walker tothelastbreath, and you.
When: June 2nd, evening.
Where: Nesreca graveyard
Rating: pg13
Summary: Karkat returns after a long silence from a time most dire.
Warnings: Mentions of death, blood, and swearing.
Life is very hard to create.
For Trolls when their homeworld existed - more so than most. You had to find partners first of all. Buckets were to be filled and given to the imperial drones and given in turn to the MotherGrub. She would mix all genetic material and the results...would still have to survive the intial stages of life. It is a harsh life that of a troll. One filled with bloodshed, hierarchy conflicts, and killing from the moment they give their first breath.
To be a troll is to be violent, consider friendship some twisted joke of nature and to be raised by something that can't even speak to you. If you're lucky enough to survive to adulthood, then you'd have been sent off world to battle in wars. Because in the distant past two ancient trolls lead separate rebellions against the system. Both failed.
Just like you did. But the sufferer and the summoner did not fail half as badly as the knight of blood. The species still survived long after those two. But the knight...was the last.
Karkat woke up slowly, his senses hazy as if he'd finally gotten some rest. He didn't wake with a gasp or a snarl or even a curse. Because for a brief second he thought he'd drifted off and woken up again. Until he looked down. His shirt was soaked with his blood. That candy red, freak blood. Karkat sucked in a breath as everything came flashing back to him. Jack Noir had found them. How and why didn't matter. Everyone was gone. Dead. Destroyed. All hope was lost before the Scratch. Or was that the instant of the Scratch? He didn't know but no one was around.
Just him and with everything clashing and tearing through his head, he put his head in his hands and let out a sob. Why. Why was he chosen to survive? Out of all of them why was he the angry fuck up for a leader that lead them into this, allowed to live?! It was too much. He didn't know how to take it. He wasn't sure he could take it and he didn't want to. It had been coming to this and he knew it - Sollux had fucking predicted it from the start. If only he had listened. Would it have even mattered if he did?!
He didn't know and right now he didn't care. He couldn't even possibly fathom any of this. Oh god what the fuck was he going to do? Oh god oh god oh god.
When: June 2nd, evening.
Where: Nesreca graveyard
Rating: pg13
Summary: Karkat returns after a long silence from a time most dire.
Warnings: Mentions of death, blood, and swearing.
Life is very hard to create.
For Trolls when their homeworld existed - more so than most. You had to find partners first of all. Buckets were to be filled and given to the imperial drones and given in turn to the MotherGrub. She would mix all genetic material and the results...would still have to survive the intial stages of life. It is a harsh life that of a troll. One filled with bloodshed, hierarchy conflicts, and killing from the moment they give their first breath.
To be a troll is to be violent, consider friendship some twisted joke of nature and to be raised by something that can't even speak to you. If you're lucky enough to survive to adulthood, then you'd have been sent off world to battle in wars. Because in the distant past two ancient trolls lead separate rebellions against the system. Both failed.
Just like you did. But the sufferer and the summoner did not fail half as badly as the knight of blood. The species still survived long after those two. But the knight...was the last.
Karkat woke up slowly, his senses hazy as if he'd finally gotten some rest. He didn't wake with a gasp or a snarl or even a curse. Because for a brief second he thought he'd drifted off and woken up again. Until he looked down. His shirt was soaked with his blood. That candy red, freak blood. Karkat sucked in a breath as everything came flashing back to him. Jack Noir had found them. How and why didn't matter. Everyone was gone. Dead. Destroyed. All hope was lost before the Scratch. Or was that the instant of the Scratch? He didn't know but no one was around.
Just him and with everything clashing and tearing through his head, he put his head in his hands and let out a sob. Why. Why was he chosen to survive? Out of all of them why was he the angry fuck up for a leader that lead them into this, allowed to live?! It was too much. He didn't know how to take it. He wasn't sure he could take it and he didn't want to. It had been coming to this and he knew it - Sollux had fucking predicted it from the start. If only he had listened. Would it have even mattered if he did?!
He didn't know and right now he didn't care. He couldn't even possibly fathom any of this. Oh god what the fuck was he going to do? Oh god oh god oh god.