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Rose: Be the Tentacle Therapist!
It's been another long day researching in the library of the meteor, with little reward and greater frustration. It seems more questions than answers tend to be discovered in my efforts to better direct our future actions. By counting days on a calendar Dave set up via his alchemizer, that it's been approximately two years, or a sweep, as the trolls call it. Sighing, I close the latest tome before me and eye up Kanaya, who looks equally as tired. Even her luminescence seems to be a bit dimmer than usual, though her outfits are always in good taste and bright colors. To be honest I'm glad she chose to assist me in the search for knowledge. The current situation seems less bleak with her around. I place the book back on a shelf and turn to her, "I believe our futile searches for the day are at an end, Kan. Would you like to accompany me to the kitchen?" She looks up, smiling wearily, "Perhaps tea before bed would help us rest. Remind me to speak to Karkat before I return to my respite block." I raise an eyebrow wryly, "Feel the need for shouty capitalized letters, then?" Kanaya blushes a lovely shade of jade, " No-no, I just wish to inform him of our progress, it's been a few weeks since I have updated him." Yes. Because getting yelled at before bed is so relaxing. I just smirk and shake my head. "I hope he isn't praying for miracles," The smart ass remark is out of my mouth before I realize, too late, that miracles are still a sore subject, "Oh, gog, sorry Kan!" Her smile is as weak as water, "There is no need for apology, Rose, it is just sarcasm." I still berate myself mentally as we walk down the hallway.
The meteor is eerily quiet at this hour, though granted there is little way to distinguish "hours" in the vast void of space. It seems a majority of our compatriots have returned to their respective rooms for the night. The metal of the floors creak beneath my feet as we make our way down the hall, making us both jump. We look at each other and laugh, though our fears are quite valid. Kanaya had filled me in on the gruesome events that occurred prior to their arrival to the green sun during the first few days we agreed to work together. A member of their party, whom I've yet to meet, had a major breakdown, no thanks to Dave's introduction of the ICP, which seemed to be a direct conflict, or considered blasphemy to, his clown cultist religion. The Bard of Rage hasn't been seen in two years, though in the dead of night one might hear a honk, or husky chuckle. Breakdowns are all fine and good, I suppose, unless they turn you into a raging psychopath with a split personality. Not that I have much room to speak after my Grimdark episode, but at least most of that destructive energy was put to good use. For decent enough purpose... I shake myself out of the memories of the loss of my mother as Kanaya looks at me quizzically. Shrugging, I occupy my mind with new thoughts, its been awhile since I've psychoanalyzed anyone, but maybe...
A honk squeals in the distance as we turn hurriedly into the nutrition block, I mean kitchen, gog damn it! Terezi and Strider are sitting at the table laughing hysterically over a large brownish glob in the center of the table. Its undulating mass reminds me of the horrorterrors I once worked for before going grimdark. The acrid stench burns itself into my nostrils, as it busily sizzles and pops its way through the silver serving platter it sits upon. "Strider, what in gog's name is that awful mess?" He wheezes with laughter, choking out, "We've...been...hahaha...alchemizing Alternian and Earth food..." he pants with a few more outbursts of laughter before continuing, "This is a steak with grub sauce." Kanaya puts on a disapproving face, interjecting fussily, "Make sure you clean it up before it burns a hole in the table!" Terezi screeches harder with laughter, "We know! It already ate through the plate!"
As if in response to her speech, the unholy concoction promptly bursts into flames, which only makes the two buffoons cackle louder. None of us see Karkat enter the room, "WHAT THE FUCKALL IS THIS MASTERFUL FUCKUP OF SHITHIVE FLAMING FAILURE FUCKERY?" We all start and turn, guiltily, to the doorway where Karkat stands, mouth agog with a mixture of shock and rage on his face. Strider is the first to answer, " Chill out, man, I've got this." He quickly pulls a metal bucket from his sylladex and covers the flaming abomination. Kanaya turns her face away with horror while Terezi, finally hoarse with laughter, shakes violently with unspoken mirth. Karkat lets out a string of expletives that shake the very walls of the room. "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU JUST DID THAT! YOU IGNORANT FUCKING FUCK! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOUR MANNERS! YOU'RE SO SPECTACULAR AT FAILING AT LIFE THEY SHOULD GIVE YOU A GOG DAMN MEDAL! 'HERE'S TO THE MOST FUCKIEST OF ALL THE FUCKASSES! GAZE UPON THE MIGHTY GLORY THAT IS HIS HEAD ENSCONCED SNUGLY IN HIS OWN BONE NOOK!' YOU KNOW WHAT? NO, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOUR MANNERS, AND FUCK THE BUCKET YOU WERE SPAWNED FROM!" The girls gasp at Karkat's virulent speech and watch in shock as he launches himself at Dave. Strider laughs tauntingly, scooping up the extinguished mess into the bucket, deftly placing it back into his sylladex before absconding out of the room. "Come on Karkles, let's race!" Karkat sputters out strangled sibilants before giving streaking out of the door. Their expletive laden banter fades the further into the meteor they go.
I'm quite sure Dave will find a way to empty the contents of that bucket onto Karkat's head prior to the end of the night. Kanaya gives Terezi a disgusted look, "Why do you always have to rile him up like that?" Terezi let out a bark of a laugh," Hehehe, It's a joke, Kan, Karkles has to learn to take one!" Kanaya shakes her head, "I thought you cared about him." She storms out of the room before Terezi can form a reply. I walk to the shelves in the back, ignoring her. Finding tea is easy enough, but where the hell are all of the cookies?! After a few futile seconds of search, I give up and alchemize a batch of jam thumbprints, piling them on a tray. I turn back, placing the cookies on the center island. I had quite forgotten that Terezi was even in the room. She glances sheepishly in my direction before giving chase to her friends, "It's just a joke..." I don't say anything in reply, there's no need to. She slinks out, shame-faced.
Alone. Being alone on the meteor is never a very comfortable feeling, even when you're just in the kitchen. Despite my mounting discomfort, I head over to the stove to set water to boil. Dave and I have taken turns going back into our servers and capchtaloging different foods to make, since there is little else to eat here outside of troll food. Most of it has a slimy consistency, and if not then it stinks of fish or worse. At Terezi's urging, Dave had tried grub-sauce, and had spent the entire night sick, screaming about the ants that had invaded his nasal cavities. I'd like to think I can learn from the mistakes of others.
I haven't eaten much today, but to be honest I'm not terribly hungry. I suppose it has something to do with being god tier, more power means fewer human needs? I don't know. The kettle starts to squeal, and I quickly take it from the stove top. I realize how quiet the area has fallen. Even Karkat's vehement curses have fallen into silence. I know it's irrational, but I feel as if I'm being watched. Eyes peer from me from every corner of the room, the creeping darkness, the empty crevices of the Void where the horrorterrors float outside of time and space. Unfamiliar sounds make me jump in my skin. I alchemize a mobile coffee mug, dump in my tea, and hurry back to the library. It's too far to go back to my bedroom alone, the library is the only room on the meteor that locks from the inside. I truly wish Dave hadn't antagonized Karkat. I wonder if his need to do so is connected his continual conflicts with his brother, or if it is perhaps his only way to cope with his loss. It would make sense, really. Traditional childhood psychology states that children, especially males, tend to cope with loss and express pain through physical means. It makes my heart ache for him with a sense of mutual loss. My own mother's death presses heavily on me in the silence.