Work Text:
[S] Begin.
You are DAVE STRIDER. You are currently on your roof, clutching a shitty sword. Your opponent is waiting for you a short distance away.
> Dave: Listen.
Listen to what, exactly? There are a lot of things to listen too right now, including meteors raining down around you, cars honking in the streets below, the very subtle WOOSH noises of a flash stepping ninja bro...
==>
I'm not a fan of puppeteers
Oh. That. The words that just sounded out of absolutely nowhere.
...What exactly was that? Sure you don't like puppets, but WHERE THE HELL DID THAT COME FROM?! Did you just hallucinate that you heard that? Is your brain just trying to come up with new sick rhymes to drop later on?
You shake your head and refocus on the task at hand. Namely, strifing with Bro. Or Lil Cal, which is far more likely actually.
> Dave: Be a Dave in the future.
You are now a Dave in the future. In fact, you are currently DREAM DAVE IN THE FUTURE. Lil Cal is staring at your back. God, even in dreams, he's creepy as fu-
==>
But I've a nagging fear
What the... your brain is doing it again. You mentally tell your brain to stick a lid on itself and shut up for the moment, rap lyrics can wait until later.
> Dave: Be a Gamzee.
The hell is a Gamzee?
> Gamzee: Listen.
You are now a SOBER GAMZEE MAKARA. You are MOTHERFUCKING pissed off at one MOTHERFUCKING DAVE STIDER, and you are about to expose him to your MOTHERFUCKING CHUCKLEVOODOOS as payback for what he has done...
HONK
==>
Someone else is pulling at the strings
Huh... clearly your MOTHERFUCKING THINK PAN isn't quite clear of that MOTHERFUCKING SLIME YET. You could have sworn you just HEARD SOME MOTHERFUCKER SPEAK.
> Be someone less creepy.
You are now a meteor heading for a certain town where a certain boy is about to take a bite of a certain apple.
==>
Something terrible is going down
Through the entire town
You would think that these song lyrics sounding from out of thin air is incredibly odd, but seeing as how you are, in fact, a meteor, with no ears nor brain to hear and understand it, you do not. You continue to plummet towards the town below.
> Be a non-inanimate object.
You fail so hard at being a non-inanimate object that you are now TWO inanimate objects. GAME DISCS, to be precise. You go by the names SBURB-S and SBURB-C.
What will you do?
==>
Wreaking anarchy and all it brings
...Yeah, okay. You can do that. Give it a few hours and you'll have it done.
> Try again to be a non-inanimate object.
You succeed! You are now ROSE LALONDE. Congratulations are in order, but you'll have to get them some other time, seeing as how you're currently preoccupied running past a burning forest in an attempt to recharge your laptop in your cat's mausoleum while meteors rain down from the sky.
...Rather odd situation you're in, you.
==>
I can't sit idly, no,
You completely fail to notice the brief song lyric over the noise of burning forest and the meteors hitting the landscape.
You're quite the rebel to just... NOT HEAR IT like that. Even the meteor had better manners!
> Stop switching and pick a character to stay as already!
What's that? Switch characters already? Well alright then!
You are now JOHN EGBERT, and you are currently checking your mailbox. It appears you have been preempted by your LOVING PARENTAL FIGURE, who must have taken the mail inside. A STRONG WIND blows up, making your yard's single tree look like it's about to fall over.
...Wait, since when did it have leaves again?
==>
I can't move at all
You fail to hear the tune over the gusting weather!
...Two in a row. REALLY? This is quickly becoming downright ridiculous.
> Be an alien, any alien!
Sorry, but you've only got a choice between being Karkat and being Karkat two seconds ago. Seeing as how they are basically the same Karkat, you are now KARKAT VANTAS. You are currently swearing up a storm over the alien you have just discovered is at fault for the loss of your prize. You loathe him with every fiber of your being. There is no possible organism, living or dead, which you could ever possibly hate more than you hate the blue, buck toothed THING whose image is currently taking up your computer screen. Songs will be sung of-
==>
I curse the name
JESUS FUCK WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!
It happened again. It FUCKING HAPPENED AGAIN. Great, just what you needed! MORE SHIT TO DEAL WITH! OF COURSE! JUST PILE ON MORE FUCKING PROBLEMS UNTIL WE FINALLY REACH THE ABSOLUTE PINNACLE OF SHIT MOUNTAIN! THIS IS JUST WONDERFUL!
Now the others are staring at you, having seen you suddenly cut off your rant. Surely they heard that too?! But nobody else is freaking out, so apparently they didn't! WHAT THE FUCK?!
> Nepeta: Ask him what's wrong.
No no no! You're not part of this, go away!
> Hey wait, go back to being Nepeta!
Oh, fine. You'll be her again in 3...2...1...
==>
You are now JOHN EGBERT, and you are currently helping set up what is basically a giant universe reset button, otherwise known as THE SCRATCH. Oh hey! You're being pestered... no wait, trolled, by Karkat!
carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling ectoBiologist [EB]
CG: ATTENTION WORTHLESS HUMAN.
CG: THIS IS YOUR GOD SPEAKING.
...and so on and so forth. The wall of grey text continues to expand for a while. You say hi to him, but he doesn't seem to know you... Oh gosh, this must be your first conversation! This is going to be amazing! You ponder how to respond and start to type-
==>
The one behind it aaaaaaallll...
You pause, having heard the verse clearly this time, as opposed to how you totally missed the other one this morning. You wonder what that was, and hope it was nothing to worry about...
CG: WELCOME TO THE TROLLOCAUST. THE PAINSTAKING GENOCIDE OF YOUR FRAGILE SELF ESTEEM WILL BE MY SWAN SONG.
CG: HEY FUCKASS, WHY'D YOU STOP RESPONDING?
CG: I'M NOT FINISHED WITH YOU YET.
EB: sorry!
EB: i just thought i heard something
EB: sounded like a song...
CG: OH GREAT! JOIN THE FUCKING CLUB!
CG: NOW WE CAN ALL COME TOGETHER AND LISTEN TO SONG LYRICS THAT NOBODY ELSE SEEMS TO HEAR!
EB: wait, you heard it too?
EB: oh no, we're out of time!
EB: i have to go put this plan in to motion.
EB: see you soon karkat!
CG: WAIT
CG: WHAT
ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG]
> John: Be your ectobiology twin.
Alright, that's a reasonable request. You are now JADE HARLEY, and you are currently ASLEEP. Your dream self is roaming the beautiful planet that you've come to know as PROSPIT. You pause for a moment to admire the-
==>
Oh for fucks sake cut it out with the dashes. We KNOW what's coming by now!
==>
Discord, I'm howlin' at the moon
And sleepin' in the middle of a summer afternoon
Woah, that's new! You've never heard music seemingly show up out of nowhere while dreaming... too bad it only played for a few seconds, that sounded pretty cool!
> Be... Bec Noir, maybe?
The guy is a little busy cutting apart the door to a universe right now, so you’ll have to settle for being the trolls beneath him instead, alright?
Wait, you cannot be all twelve trolls at once! It is simply impossible to be that many beings at once!
> Be Vriska.
You are now VRISKA SERKET, and you are ROYALLY PISSED at the flying barkfiend that just cut your prize in half! He’s gonna pay for tha-
==>
Discord, whatever did we do
To make you take our world away?
...were those SONG LYRICS?! What kind of enemy uses-
Before you can wonder about this any further, Aradia shoves you all in to a transportalizer pad. You will later discover that the other trolls heard the strange song too, but will all swiftly forget about it, most of you chalking it up as one of the monster’s abilities (albeit a weird one). At least, you’ll forget about it until Karkat claims to have heard it again...
> Be the White King.
You cannot be the White King because the White King is dead! You can be... his scepter, maybe?
Hey, take it or leave it.
> Take it.
You are now THE WHITE KING’S SCEPTER. You are very happy as a scepter. You do many scepter-like things, like... scepting, or something. Yes, that is totally a word.
==>
Discord, are we your prey alone
...No?
Who’s Discord?
> The scepter is boring. Be the Black Queen.
Nope, can’t do it bro! She’s dead too. You can, instead, be her snazzy ring. And no, you can’t be Jack, who is holding the ring, until he puts it on! And by then it will be too late. So hurry up and be the ring!
> Be the ring.
One Ring to rule them all
One Ring to find them
One Ring to bring them all
And in the darkness, bind them
> Not that ring.
Oh, fine.
You are now the Black Queen’s ring, and you are none too pleased about this turn of events. That finger is getting closer, and it looks way too big for you to fit on. This isn’t looking good.
==>
Or are we just a stepping stone for taking back the throne?
Well... yes, Mr. Noir. I have to assume you already know this, seeing as how you cut off my mistress’ finger in the first place. You know, power of the queen goes to they who wears the ring and all that?
Oh, that wasn’t you singing. My bad. Huh, and I was just about to compliment you on your singing voice...
> Be the revolting carapaces.
Could you BE any more insulting?! Who just up and calls an entire GROUP of sentient beings revolt-
> NOT THAT KIND OF REVOLTING.
Oh, okay. Sorry!
You are now... no no NO you CANNOT be all of them at once! You've heard this before, quite recently in fact! It's not like that ever stopped being a thing, okay?
> Be all the revolters. ALL of them.
You are now the revolters.
What the- how did- how does that-
Okay, FINE. You are now ALL the revolters. Good luck trying to figure out which you is thinking what!
==>
Discord, we won't take it anymore
Alright, so it's not THAT much of a challenge, since pretty much all of you thought something along the lines of "What the heck was that?" in response to the sudden music.
Unfortunately, you cannot be ALL the revolters anymore since you cannot process all the input you are receiving from your various brains!
> Be WV.
You are now a grieving WARWEARY VILLEIN. The battlefield, covered in black, white, and red, lies before you. You fall to your knees and weep for your now dead fellows.
==>
So take your tyranny
That MUSIC! You heard it before the slaughter as well... does this mean that you shall soon die as well?
You struggle to your feet and wander away.
> Be... oh, who cares by this point. Try Jack again.
You are now SPADES SLICK, and you've just shot someone. You're not even sure who it was, but it was likely one of the many people you HATE. Seeing as how you hate PRETTY MUCH EVERYONE, it's a safe guess. A gangster like you shouldn't care about anyone but himself. That's something you've believed since even before you made this city.
==>
Away!
You ignore the voice. It was only there for a second, but you already hate it. It doesn't like you much either, so it ignores you in kind.
Ah, hate.
> Be whoever.
You are now the planet ALTERNIA and its TWO MOONS.
What? Yeah, you can be a planet. It's not usually recommended, but you can do it!
> Alternia: Listen.
Discor-aor-aor-aor-aor-aor-...
You don't have ears, but you're still aware of the weird techno synth music that is somehow playing in the vacuum of space. Will SOMEBODY turn that racket down?
==>
...ooord...
Oh, it's gone now. Thank you, whoever or whatever did that.
> Be the past.
Okay, this has to be your most inane suggestion yet. Since "the past" is relative to the present, and paradox space works by having every moment ALREADY HAVING HAPPENED, this could mean literally ANY TIME EVER. Besides which, (and one would think this to be obvious), you CANNOT, IN ANY WAY POSSIBLE, BE A NONPHYSICAL CONCEPT. IT DOES. NOT. WORK. THAT. WAY.
Let's try being someone who is IN the past instead.
> Be a someone in the past.
You are now the jade blood in the past that goes by the title DOLOROSA. You have just found a small, candy red wriggler, apparently having been abandoned by the drones due to his mutation. This isn't right- mutation or not, he should at least have the right to live.
Perhaps... you could care for him. He does not deserve to die simply because of the color of his blood, but no lusus would ever take him on with a blood color like his...
==>
I'm fine with changing status quo,
What? Music?... Yes. Perhaps it is time to change the status quo. You will raise this child as your own, and he will live on despite all odds...
> Be somebody, anybody.
Hey, if you're not going to pick anyone, the story will pick for you.
==>
You are now THE DISCIPLE. You have recently lost everything you ever cared about. The rebellion has failed. Your friends are all either dead or enslaved. And the leader of the rebellion, the one you loved so much you would die in his place if you had the choice, has been chained to a rock to bleed out in front of a crowd who will watch, but do nothing to help. You carry his leggings in your arms as you walk through the wasteland. They are slowly becoming stained with faded olive green...
==>
But not in letting go
You can't let go... You must ensure that his legacy lives on. Then... maybe you can... rejoin him...
> Be the tortured yellow blood.
You are now the... er, are you sure you really WANT to be this guy? Given his screams, that must be pretty painful...
> What does it matter.
Guess you have to be him eventually anyways. So, you are now THE PSIIONIIC.
Ahhh... it... hurts...
It hurts...
it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts
==>
Now the world is being torn apart
Your MIND is being torn apart, which frankly you find more important at the moment. You can't even hear the music over the sound of your own screams.
it hurts
> Be someone who isn't in terrible physical or emotional pain.
You are now NEOPHYTE REDGLARE, and the only reason you aren't in pain is because you lost all feeling below your neck a minute or two ago. You're hanging from the gallows, the ones SHE was meant to hang from. You really should have expected this from her... how foolish of you.
==>
A terrible catastrophe played by your symphony,
Music?... A surprisingly... appropriate... line...
DEAD
> Be someone who isn't in pain NOR dead.
You are now THE GRAND MOTHERFUCKING HIGHBLOOD. The blood of recently culled trolls drips from your arms. Soon they will adorn your throne room, each death making its appearance ever more MIRACULOUS.
==>
What a terrifying work of art!
Indeed it MOTHERFUCKING is.
> Be someone whose viewpoint isn't scary, depressing, or downright SAD in any WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM.
You apparently still don't get it- you cannot control who you are going to be. The song will go where it likes, when it likes, and there is nothing you can do to stop it.
> Fine.
Good. You are now A HAND.
Yes, just the hand. You don't even get to know who you're attached too. It's grey though, so probably a troll hand. There are drips of multicolored liquid on you, which is most likely troll blood if the last few characters you had the pleasure of being were anything to go by.
==>
I can't sit idly
Well, you're a hand. You can't really "sit" in the first place, so that's not really an issue.
> Be tormented.
You are now THE SUFFERER, and for once in your life you are FUCKING ANGRY. You were so close... you thought you could change things... you could make this planet a better place... but in the end, it all resulted in ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOTHING...
==>
No, I can't move at all
You give your final sermon. The Vast Expletive is unleashed upon the crowds.
==>
I curse the name
Why...
Why... did it have... to be this way...
DEAD
> Be the one behind it all.
You CANNOT be LORD ENGLISH!
But then, did you really expect you COULD be him?
> Be the pawn.
Hopefully you meant that metaphorically, because you aren't going back to being a carapace. You are now THE HANDMAID. You have just illustrated the events that will cause the Sufferer's rebellion to fail. You hate your life. And you can't even commit suicide. You've tried, and get stopped every time by the overgrown puppet with a cueball for a head.
> Handmaid: Try again.
Can't possibly hurt. You raise your one of wands to your throat.
==>
The one behind it aaaaaaallll...
You have the distinct impression that music was meant to be heard by someone else. In the split second in which you're distracted, your "guardian" appears and snatches away your wands. Shit.
> Go back to being someone in the present.
Sure thing! The past is getting boring anyways. And it's always so depressing, who'd even WANT to be in the past?
You are now JANE CROCKER. You appear to be in some sort of pitch black area, brightened only by the bright red glow of... honestly, you're not quite sure what it is. GCAT is directly behind you for some reason. When did he get here?
==>
Discord, I'm howlin' at the moon
Before the words can reach your ears, you are suddenly interrupted by being GCAT! You steal the sound waves from the air and fling them in to the far reaches of space. Some of them will eventually make it to The Furthest Ring, travel backwards in time, and cross paths with the planet Alternia, where they will proceed to annoy the planet itself for several whole SECONDS. Ambitious sound waves, these ones were.
> Jane: Be Roxy.
You attempt to be Roxy.
==>
FISSION MAILED!!!
==>
You are now a bruised, beaten up JAKE ENGLISH. Gosh darnit, that robot of Dirk's is strong enough to beat you even on its easiest setting. You hope your glasses aren't cracked.
==>
And sleepin' in the middle of a summer afternoon
You hear the tune and sit up. You weren't sleeping, you were simply resting your head after being pummeled by a robot! Honest!
Wait, music? What? Does some of the fauna here sing and you've just never heard them before? It was one of those butler horses, wasn't it. You knew they could talk!
> Try to be Roxy again.
You try to be Roxy but are instead shoehorned in to being some buildings.
Really? Buildings?
...WHY?!
==>
Discord, whatever did we do
To make you take our world away?
Inanimate and non-sentient objects, blah blah blah, can't hear, blah blah blah, move on, BLAH.
> GOD DAMMIT BE ROXY!!!
You are now HER IMPERIOUS CONDESCENSION. You appear to practicing your audition for the WORLD'S TOP TEN CREEPIEST FACES TV SHOW. Obviously this is not what is actually happening, but it SURE AS HELL looks like it!
> Condesce: Stop smiling like that!
Why should you? You rule this planet, you can smile ALL YOU WANT.
==>
Discord, are we your prey alone,
Or are we just a stepping stone for taking back the throne?
You smile even wider, if that's even possible. So, he's finally here... it's time then.
> Be Dirk.
You are now ROXY LALONDE.
Wait, you... GOD DAMNIT. No fair!
You are currently running from the drones that are trying their hardest to kill you. Your huge hangover headache is not helping you in this endeavor at all.
Shit, you're trapped in between two of them! How to get out of this one...
==>
Discord, we won't take it anymore
A single verse of song sounds from nowhere, distracting the drones. You take your chance and run for it as fast as you possibly can while your head is still spinning from alcohol.
> Be the only character left.
You are now DIRK STRIDER. You are currently on your roof, clutching a long-ass sword. Your opponents are advancing. They're only a stone's throw away now.
==>
So take your tyranny away!
Sounds like you left your music on downstairs. Sweet, you'll have music to fight to.
[s] End.
Hahahahaha... soon...
Soon...