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PLAYER
Name: James
Personal Journal: ”truebluehorror”E-mail: jhr061000@utdallas.edu
AIM/MSN/etc: AIM - nathander2007
CHARACTER
Name: Spades Slick (a.k.a. the Troll Session’s Jack Noir)
Canon: Homestuck
Timeline: Shortly after getting stabbed in the eye by Snowman while fighting Sawbuck and Crowbar of the Felt.
Personality:
Spades Slick is not a nice person. As the archagent of Derse, it was his job to try and win the war with Prospit, Derse’s rival planet, as well as answering to the Black Queen, who he hated. On the ruined planet of Alternia, where he’d eventually be exiled, Spades essentially created and runs the reformed civilization there, that he crafted in the image of a Noir film. In both cases, Spades shows himself as an incredibly cruel, merciless, and calculating being. His first and foremost desire is to exert control, first in showing that no one controls him but himself and secondly in having others answer specifically to him. And anyone who tries to take either of these away from him, either by expecting to attempt to command him or by disobeying him, can expect to be taken care of by the Dersite and his crew.
While Spades usually flexes and shows his power through acts of physical aggression, prefer to make sure his opponents can never come back because they’ve been deep-sixed, he’s demonstrated that he’s capable of using subterfuge and playing politics to get what he wants, although he only ever seems to do this is outright aggression simply has no chance of getting the job done. An example of this would be the alliance he formed with Karkat Vantas during the trolls session of Sburb/Sgurb, where he formed a plot with the young troll to find a way to banish and exile the Black Queen by sabotaging her prototyping ring, which was advantageous for both parties involved. Really, Spades just enjoys crushing his enemies, and if he can’t do it through the preferred physical means, he’ll do it through subtler ones if that becomes possible.
Along with his cruelty and exceedingly violent tendencies, Spades is also incredibly impulsive. He does what he wants whenever he feels like it, and will stop doing it the moment it no longer provides him with any interest. This tends to lead to some incredibly childish behavior, such as one moment where he pretended his Cast Iron Horse Hitcher was a real horse and, using Snowman’s Lance, pretended to joust. While he usually doesn’t seem to give much thought to these random outbursts (and he doesn’t, to be fair), he is self-conscious of them and at least tries to do them in private when given the chance. Which isn’t to say he hasn’t been caught on multiple occasions. This also includes the horrible, horrible puns that Slick is notorious for that he constantly tries to crank out as one liners. Despite being god-awful at them, he doesn’t seem to understand the idea of giving up on them.
Despite all this, it is possible for Spades Slick to care about others, or at least tolerate them. He’s exceedingly loyal to his crew and, while he most likely wouldn’t bat an eye if any of them died, he himself would never intentionally betray them or permanently hurt them (though temporary is just fine). This goes along with the idea that Spades will do what he likes when he likes and will stop doing it when he no longer wants to. The fact that he continues to hang around with his crew and work with them suggests something more then him using them just for their utility.
The same would, in an odd way, appear to apply to the troll kids who he helped during their sessions and proceeded to observe later when he found himself stuck in Lord English’s Vault. While he appears to profess a complete hatred for them, there are indications he seems to actually at least somewhat care about them or at least what they’re doing (as observed by the fact that he continues to observe them). This applies especially to the trolls leader, Karkat Vantas, who seems to idolize Slick. In turn, Slick does sympathize and empathize with Karkat, if not seeing him as a sort of surrogate son. Of course, Spades Slick being who he is, he would never express this in any relevant or decipherable way to anyone but himself, one of these ways apparently being the fact that Spades doesn’t fatally stab Karkat despite apparently using Karkat as a pin cushion whenever he likes.
First Person:
[Slick had to admit, he was not particularly fond of finding himself in a town he didn’t know. Especially when he had been working on running some assholes out of his town. It could be time shit, he supposed, and all things considered probably was. He’d searched the entire area for Sawbuck when he first found himself on the train, practically tearing everything that he could apart to try and find the fat load.
When the train had stopped, he’d proceeded to do the same at the stop, knocking over trashcans and benches and anything he physically could. He didn’t really expect to find Sawbuck this time; he just did it because he fucking felt like it.
Eventually, he finally noticed the pocketwatch communicator. He narrowed his eyes at it, flicking the communicator open and just looking for a moment.]
Fuck is this thing supposed to be, some kind of goddamn video phone?
Doesn’t matter, don’t give a shit. Anyone can hear this, you’re going to tell me where the fuck this is and who had the balls to drag me here, and you’ll do it right now, you know what’s good for you. Much as I’d love to bash everyone involved in this goddamn head in, guess I’ll be a nice guy for now and try to keep the ass beatings you all deserve. So I’d suggest you lay out what you know on the table. Now.
Third Person:
The smell of cigarette smoke and whiskey was, if asked, one of the few things Spades Slick really cherished. They were gritty sensations, and by god if grit wasn’t something he could get behind and love. Even better when it was the first thing in the morning.
He rubbed his brow a minute before finally taking a swig of the alcohol, enjoying the burning sensation in his throat. Last night had been an utter bitch. Some little band of assholes had thought it would be just a delightful idea to try and steal from one of the warehouses of illegal black market merchandise the Crew kept. Spades supposed there was no real reason for it to be illegal; after all, he could damn well make legal whatever he wanted in this city. But he had to admit, the idea of still doing dirty business just appealed to him. It was the kind of shit any mobster worth his fedora was supposed to do. Spades could swing with that.
Spades could also swing his Cast Iron Horse Hitcher hard enough to bust open the heads of some of the little fucks who’d tried stealing from him. He allowed himself a small grin at that. Stupid motherfuckers certainly wouldn’t be trying that again. Doubted they’d ever hear from them in any way, either - it’s kind of hard to talk from the bottom of a reservoir.
And that’s what you get. For trying to take something that isn’t yours. For trying to take something that was his. This was his town, and that included everyone and everything in it. It was his turn to goddamn call the shots, but he wasn’t going to do any of that royalty bullshit. Just good old ruling through fear. Yeah. Entirely different from what Snowman had been doing.
That bitch. And here he had thought that once he’d exiled her ugly, bitchy ass, he’d never have to deal with her, or see her again. But no, of course not. He had to go and get exiled himself, on the same planet with her. Which wouldn’t have been so bad if he could’ve just killed her but of course misery had to keep company so she had to be, of all things, immortal as well as being on the same planet. It was a beautiful slap in the face and utter bullshit all at the same time. There had to be some way to fuck her over, to get her out of his way entirely so he’d never have to see her or waste time thinking about her ever again. But how? No matter what the fuck he did, she always screwed him. Always found some way to outmaneuver him, even when it looked like he’d fucking beaten her. He’d fucking beaten her! He had! Why was she able to turn being disgraced and exiled into a victory?! How the fuck was that fair?
The glass of whiskey soon found itself sailing through the air before smashing against the wood tiled wall of Spades room. The chair Spades had been sitting in soon found itself joining the chair. The desk would have too, but Spades wasn’t so insane as to try and fling that piece of shit. So he simply toppled it over.
When he was finally done, the room was a mess, broken glass and wood littering the floor, a small covering of feathers from one of Spades pillows. Spades himself was breathing slightly more raggedly then usual. Not really because of the physical exertion, but from trying to push the bitch out of his mind before he went on another tear.
He went to his closet to get his coat and hat and get dressed. He had some business to attend to; some protection money was due today, and he aimed to collect it. Especially in his current mood. It’d be good for him, to have something that could scream as a target.
With a collected, if somewhat quick walk, Spades exited the room, locking the door behind him.
Name: James
Personal Journal: ”truebluehorror”E-mail: jhr061000@utdallas.edu
AIM/MSN/etc: AIM - nathander2007
CHARACTER
Name: Spades Slick (a.k.a. the Troll Session’s Jack Noir)
Canon: Homestuck
Timeline: Shortly after getting stabbed in the eye by Snowman while fighting Sawbuck and Crowbar of the Felt.
Personality:
Spades Slick is not a nice person. As the archagent of Derse, it was his job to try and win the war with Prospit, Derse’s rival planet, as well as answering to the Black Queen, who he hated. On the ruined planet of Alternia, where he’d eventually be exiled, Spades essentially created and runs the reformed civilization there, that he crafted in the image of a Noir film. In both cases, Spades shows himself as an incredibly cruel, merciless, and calculating being. His first and foremost desire is to exert control, first in showing that no one controls him but himself and secondly in having others answer specifically to him. And anyone who tries to take either of these away from him, either by expecting to attempt to command him or by disobeying him, can expect to be taken care of by the Dersite and his crew.
While Spades usually flexes and shows his power through acts of physical aggression, prefer to make sure his opponents can never come back because they’ve been deep-sixed, he’s demonstrated that he’s capable of using subterfuge and playing politics to get what he wants, although he only ever seems to do this is outright aggression simply has no chance of getting the job done. An example of this would be the alliance he formed with Karkat Vantas during the trolls session of Sburb/Sgurb, where he formed a plot with the young troll to find a way to banish and exile the Black Queen by sabotaging her prototyping ring, which was advantageous for both parties involved. Really, Spades just enjoys crushing his enemies, and if he can’t do it through the preferred physical means, he’ll do it through subtler ones if that becomes possible.
Along with his cruelty and exceedingly violent tendencies, Spades is also incredibly impulsive. He does what he wants whenever he feels like it, and will stop doing it the moment it no longer provides him with any interest. This tends to lead to some incredibly childish behavior, such as one moment where he pretended his Cast Iron Horse Hitcher was a real horse and, using Snowman’s Lance, pretended to joust. While he usually doesn’t seem to give much thought to these random outbursts (and he doesn’t, to be fair), he is self-conscious of them and at least tries to do them in private when given the chance. Which isn’t to say he hasn’t been caught on multiple occasions. This also includes the horrible, horrible puns that Slick is notorious for that he constantly tries to crank out as one liners. Despite being god-awful at them, he doesn’t seem to understand the idea of giving up on them.
Despite all this, it is possible for Spades Slick to care about others, or at least tolerate them. He’s exceedingly loyal to his crew and, while he most likely wouldn’t bat an eye if any of them died, he himself would never intentionally betray them or permanently hurt them (though temporary is just fine). This goes along with the idea that Spades will do what he likes when he likes and will stop doing it when he no longer wants to. The fact that he continues to hang around with his crew and work with them suggests something more then him using them just for their utility.
The same would, in an odd way, appear to apply to the troll kids who he helped during their sessions and proceeded to observe later when he found himself stuck in Lord English’s Vault. While he appears to profess a complete hatred for them, there are indications he seems to actually at least somewhat care about them or at least what they’re doing (as observed by the fact that he continues to observe them). This applies especially to the trolls leader, Karkat Vantas, who seems to idolize Slick. In turn, Slick does sympathize and empathize with Karkat, if not seeing him as a sort of surrogate son. Of course, Spades Slick being who he is, he would never express this in any relevant or decipherable way to anyone but himself, one of these ways apparently being the fact that Spades doesn’t fatally stab Karkat despite apparently using Karkat as a pin cushion whenever he likes.
First Person:
[Slick had to admit, he was not particularly fond of finding himself in a town he didn’t know. Especially when he had been working on running some assholes out of his town. It could be time shit, he supposed, and all things considered probably was. He’d searched the entire area for Sawbuck when he first found himself on the train, practically tearing everything that he could apart to try and find the fat load.
When the train had stopped, he’d proceeded to do the same at the stop, knocking over trashcans and benches and anything he physically could. He didn’t really expect to find Sawbuck this time; he just did it because he fucking felt like it.
Eventually, he finally noticed the pocketwatch communicator. He narrowed his eyes at it, flicking the communicator open and just looking for a moment.]
Fuck is this thing supposed to be, some kind of goddamn video phone?
Doesn’t matter, don’t give a shit. Anyone can hear this, you’re going to tell me where the fuck this is and who had the balls to drag me here, and you’ll do it right now, you know what’s good for you. Much as I’d love to bash everyone involved in this goddamn head in, guess I’ll be a nice guy for now and try to keep the ass beatings you all deserve. So I’d suggest you lay out what you know on the table. Now.
Third Person:
The smell of cigarette smoke and whiskey was, if asked, one of the few things Spades Slick really cherished. They were gritty sensations, and by god if grit wasn’t something he could get behind and love. Even better when it was the first thing in the morning.
He rubbed his brow a minute before finally taking a swig of the alcohol, enjoying the burning sensation in his throat. Last night had been an utter bitch. Some little band of assholes had thought it would be just a delightful idea to try and steal from one of the warehouses of illegal black market merchandise the Crew kept. Spades supposed there was no real reason for it to be illegal; after all, he could damn well make legal whatever he wanted in this city. But he had to admit, the idea of still doing dirty business just appealed to him. It was the kind of shit any mobster worth his fedora was supposed to do. Spades could swing with that.
Spades could also swing his Cast Iron Horse Hitcher hard enough to bust open the heads of some of the little fucks who’d tried stealing from him. He allowed himself a small grin at that. Stupid motherfuckers certainly wouldn’t be trying that again. Doubted they’d ever hear from them in any way, either - it’s kind of hard to talk from the bottom of a reservoir.
And that’s what you get. For trying to take something that isn’t yours. For trying to take something that was his. This was his town, and that included everyone and everything in it. It was his turn to goddamn call the shots, but he wasn’t going to do any of that royalty bullshit. Just good old ruling through fear. Yeah. Entirely different from what Snowman had been doing.
That bitch. And here he had thought that once he’d exiled her ugly, bitchy ass, he’d never have to deal with her, or see her again. But no, of course not. He had to go and get exiled himself, on the same planet with her. Which wouldn’t have been so bad if he could’ve just killed her but of course misery had to keep company so she had to be, of all things, immortal as well as being on the same planet. It was a beautiful slap in the face and utter bullshit all at the same time. There had to be some way to fuck her over, to get her out of his way entirely so he’d never have to see her or waste time thinking about her ever again. But how? No matter what the fuck he did, she always screwed him. Always found some way to outmaneuver him, even when it looked like he’d fucking beaten her. He’d fucking beaten her! He had! Why was she able to turn being disgraced and exiled into a victory?! How the fuck was that fair?
The glass of whiskey soon found itself sailing through the air before smashing against the wood tiled wall of Spades room. The chair Spades had been sitting in soon found itself joining the chair. The desk would have too, but Spades wasn’t so insane as to try and fling that piece of shit. So he simply toppled it over.
When he was finally done, the room was a mess, broken glass and wood littering the floor, a small covering of feathers from one of Spades pillows. Spades himself was breathing slightly more raggedly then usual. Not really because of the physical exertion, but from trying to push the bitch out of his mind before he went on another tear.
He went to his closet to get his coat and hat and get dressed. He had some business to attend to; some protection money was due today, and he aimed to collect it. Especially in his current mood. It’d be good for him, to have something that could scream as a target.
With a collected, if somewhat quick walk, Spades exited the room, locking the door behind him.