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Fandom [Homestuck] The Children of Abraxas

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  1. Action
  2. Adventure
  3. Anime
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  5. Magical
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Eidolon Astronaut

Vast Dilettante
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Somewhere on the planet ALTERNIA, on the night of the 3rd bilunar perigee of the 5th dim season, four trolls are sequestered in their HIVES. Tonight, these four will play a game that drastically alter the rest of their lives, though they don't know that yet.

Somewhere nearby each of their hives, a PACKAGE is supposed to be delivered, containing a copy of SGRUB.

Sgrub, for convenient reference, is a game that does not yet exist.

Who will you be?

> Be Mavrik. - SerbianMounted SerbianMounted
> Be Nynfae. - Noivian Noivian
> Be Yorick. - Squad141 Squad141
> Be Annlei. - SpectrumCrow SpectrumCrow


Drinker of coffees
> Be Nynfae.

Hah, First! Suck it, Losers!

Ahem. Where were we?

You are NYNFAE IPOMAE, and today is the day that is gonna change your life, though you don't know it yet. Yes, you mean day. It is currently daytime. Sunlight filters through the many hexagon-shaped windowpanes, stained and tinted in many different colors of the rainbow, coloring the already colorful botanical garden that dominates the bottom half of your hive. Why are you fine in the sunlight? You are a JADE-BLOODED troll, and as such, are IMMUNE TO THE DEATH RAY that is the ALTERNIAN SUN. Well, at least, you're one of the few of your blood caste who are immune.

Since you are awake in the daytime, your HOBBIES AND INTERESTS include more daylight-centric activities like GARDENING and BOTANY. You also enjoy managing the INSECT POPULATIONS that live within your hive. Particularly, your favorite types of bugs are BUTTERFLIES. You actually take great pride in your SWARM, and often partake in making CLOTHING AND COSTUME to match their aesthetic. You even dabble into creating FUNCTIONAL COSTUME WINGS and other INSECTOID PIECES for the purpose of attempting to fit in. You may have also taken inspiration from other beasts that roam the planet, though their designs do not interest you quite as much. Finally, you also dabble in CARTOGRAPHY, if only because the particular section of the planet you live in is more or less UNCHARTED and UNINHABITED, aside from yourself. It'd be a good idea to be able to find your way home, should you ever decide to go out exploring.

Today, though, you've received information that there should be a package arriving somewhere, at some time. Where and when, you have no clue. So you try not to bother yourself worrying about it. Instead, you scroll through CHITTR while taking a break from your sewing machine. You need to get on to pruning the various vine plants so they don't climb up the glass walls and obscure too much light from the undergrowth. The sound of various creatures create a natural background droning as your eyes scan the logs of younger trolls talking about petty topics. 'L00k @ my ha1r!' 'Ha you 7ook rEdicu7as' 'Geet oof myy hoomee paagee yoouu loowblooood.'

You can't help but sigh and roll your eyes. Of course, young trolls on Chittr like being insensitive. You tap open a response to the poor rustblood being bullied. 'You look Phenomenal, sweetie. Don't let The Others get you down. ;}' Surely you'll get negative backlash for your comment, but that's unavoidable. Everyone has a negative opinion on everything on that blasted hellsite. You needed a cheering up.

Opening up your direct messages, you thought briefly about who to talk to in a time like this.

Messaging: druiadaKickflips [DK]
BA: Mavrik, esteemed Acquaintance. How is your Night? Better than Mine, I Hope.
BA: This site keeps getting Worse by the Night. I Swear, some Trolls have no Sense of Manners.
BA: What have their Lusii been Teaching Them?

Be someone else?
> Be Mavrik.
> Be Yorick.
> Be Annlei.
> Be Mavrik

First is worst, second the best!


The attention of narrative is vastly shifted as Nynfae's message soars through Chittr to one of her, as the 'cool lowbloods' call it: 'mutuals'. The gray walls of Chittr colored in a rainbow of hate speech, sensitivity policing and for some reason ALWAYS a portrayal of eastern highblood dance pop break through to a carefully cultivated LOW ENERGY timeline. Photos of Lusii with bandages around recently stitched up wounds, delicious hivecooked meals and skate ramps with graffiti written in Alternian always colored a soft bronze scroll as a message pops up not a few moments later.

DK: your lusus.....like, Taught you Things?
DK: i dunno, afTer you Told me To jusT....like, uh.....
DK: block, Trolls i didn'T like, i jusT kinda blocked anyone That wasn't sharing picTures of food
DK: hmm.......i'm hungry now.....

Oh, shit man.....you should like, totally introduce yourself.

We open up to a goofy looking bronze blood lounging in his respiteblock amid a number of PLUSH PALS. Your name is MAVRIK TUMMUZ, and today is going to be the most important day of your life, even if you're too baked to realize it. You are a young troll interested in FAUNA and FLORA alike, an interest you share with your jadeblood friend we've already come to know. Though your fauna tend to come in the form of the magnificent beasts known as LUSUS NATURAE or 'custodians' to the common troll. You run a sort of makeshift veterinary station where you take in sick and injured lusii and raise them back to health so they can survive the DEADLY WILDS of your region of Alternia.

You are a SAVANTE when it comes to cooking, a skill necessary as you are MANY MILES removed and hidden from the nearest CULINARY DEPOSIT. Not to mention you also, on account of your aforementioned work with lusii, do NOT EAT MEAT. To your right is your FOUR WHEELED DEVICE, a vehicle you use to shred and grind on your MAKESHIFT GRIND STUDIO, a park of old cement and abandoned building materials that were implemented IN LIEU OF BUILDING MORE ONTO YOUR ACTUAL HIVE. You have a fondness for RECREATION of all kinds, including sampling from the MUSHROOMS and KALE that grow around your HIVE. You are now HUNGRY, but don't want to bother with COOKING.

What will you do?

Be someone else?
>Be Yorrik
>Be Annlei


The Purple Soul
> Be Yorick

You suppose it's a good a time as any.

You are now YORICK DEVRIM, and you are currently sitting on the floor of your RESPITEBLOCK with several pieces of SKETCHING and WRITING MATERIAL, your back leaning against your RECUPERACOON. Surrounding you are other general PERSONAL EFFECTS you enjoy keeping in your respiteblock. These include a shelf containing of your personal STORIES that you've written in your spare time, as well as some manuals and series of books you enjoy reading from time to time. A deck of PLAYING CARDS missing their JOKER CARD lie slightly scattered to your right, and to your left are a small assortment of your favorite TABLETOP GAMES, all of which you've thought up yourself. An unfinished MARIONETTE lies on the counter by the respiteblock door, as well as the latest issue of GAMEGRUB. Two POSTERS hang above your, both of characters from BOZO'S BIZARRE ADVENTURE, the only Purpleblood media you can stand because if it's interesting themes and surreal but not overbearing concepts. Leaning against the other side of the block is your STRIPESTAFF, your current weapon that you made with help from FLUTTERBEAST, your LUSUS, a few sweeps ago.

You are currently wearing your JESTER REGALIA, as it is most of your EVERYDAY DRESS. This is because Jester's are close enough to clown's that your own CASTE will not shun you, but far enough that you can distance yourself from most of their ideals when not around a BLOOD SIBLING. In your CAROUSEL MODUS, you carry a jar of FACEPAINT in case you ever encounter such trolls, though you would never have it otherwise.

You already had your daily meeting with Flutterbeast, who seemed as normal as they would be any other day. You played CLUSTERTHEFT, a game where you are trolls robbing a stemcluster museum. You nearly lost (mostly because of your appreciation for some of the artifacts) before remembering that they never existed, winning from frustration of never seeing such items of beauty. You had put it back in your GAME ROOM with the rest of the games you own and mostly create, in the large hive you reluctantly have. You were naive taking advice from a fellow PURPLEBLOOD, and now you're pretty sure the architecture of your hive resembled a LOONEYBLOCK. Luckily, you've spruced it up in time, and now you can find it somewhat homely, especially your respiteblock.

It seems you spaced out when introducing yourself... You feel a tad embarassed.

It appears as if there is only one troll left.
> Be Annlei
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==> Be Annlei

You are now Annlei Istune, a seadwelling troll. Tonight is an important night, but you don’t know that yet. To you, tonight is just like any other; one to be spent preparing for what you’ve put your entire heart, mind, blood, sweat, tears, EVERYTHING, into: Becoming the Empress.

You stand on a platform, just above the waves of Alternia’s ocean. While sparring against some old, beaten dummies, you begin to feel your muscles ask for a break. You better than to push it.

==> Annlei: Sit
You sit. Congrats. This bench has caught your tired muscles more times than you can count. You’ve trained here for as long as you’ve lived… you wonder where your next training ground will be.

Resting one elbow on your thigh, you decide to check your phone and scroll through the ramblings of other trolls. You tend to not make a habit of it, it makes it harder to kill their lusci if you put any faces to them. But you can’t help but look from time to time…. And to say hi to your small group of trolls you would consider friends.

Hmm… you haven’t messaged Yorick in a bit. How about you check in with him?

Messaging: fragmentaryZealot [FZ]
ES: -(- hey -)-

ES: -(- havent said hi in a while -)-
ES: -(- s() hi -)-

ES: -(- have y()u heard anything ab()ut a package f()r y()u -)-

ES: -(- heard s()mething ab()ut ()ne c()ming t() me but idk h()w itd get all the way ()ut here -)-
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The Purple Soul

You put down your WRITING UTENSIL, and open your CAROUSEL MODUS. As it slowly spins around you, you notice one of the cards buzzing. Retrieving your PALMHUSK III, one of the newest mobile communication devices, you open CHITTR. You quickly take a peek at your HIVEPAGE, scrolling past the usual dreg (and the recent Highblood CHITTR group that's been targeting you as of late), you see some nice pixel art, an update for your favorite online adventure game, ZETASIGN, some trolls flaunting their FLARP cosplay, etc. It all seemed in order, save the small blipping dot in the corner of the screen. Opening your messages, you see it's from one of your online friends, talking about the package.

FZ: 'hello!'

FZ: 'i suppose it has been a while, it's nice to hear from you.'
FZ: 'oh, the package?'
FZ: 'yes, I heard it's arriving soon here.'
FZ: 'though you do raise a good point on the one you'll be getting.'
FZ: 'i suppose E. PARSER will have some kind of drone deliver it?'

FZ: 'don't take my word on it, though.'

You reminisce on the situation with aforementioned package. Your mutual acquaintance with a few of your other friends, one E. PARSER, pulled together a sort of 'Last Hurrah' between the group due to the soon-to-be-departing of each of them into the vast empire, away from their home on Alternia, which, to be blunt, was a bummer. The troll on hand had mentioned delivering a sort of GAME to everyone to play together as a sort of celebration, and though they neglected to name the game, you were certainly excited.
==> Be Annlei

As you wait for a response, you stare into the dark waters that surround your hive… you really don’t want to deal with her. You’ll have to get her something soon, but you can at least finish this conversation. Turning your head back to the dim screen, you see a response.

Maybe you’ve been a bit too quiet lately, but you have to prepare for the big day. You can’t die. You won’t.

ES: -(- yeah pr()bably -)-
ES: -(- but if it d()esnt c()me im g()nna be pissed -)-
ES: -(- itd be nice t() d() s()mething with y()u guys bef()re i bec()me empress -)-

ES: -(- we’ll see if it c()mes ()r n()t. ill keep y()u updated -)-
ES: -(- tell me when y()u get y()urs ok? -)-
ES: -(- ill pr()b have t() deal with s()me r()yal junk f()r a while -)-

ES: -(- maybe ()ur packages will arrive at the same time like its fate -)-
ES: -(- l()l n()t seri()us. but iw()uld like t() hear if y()u think the game is w()rth being ()ur final hurrah -)-

Putting your palmhusk into one of the pockets of your shorts, you grab your strife specibus. Not a training spear. A real weapon. For hunting royal junk.

⇒ Annlei: Take care of your duties


The Purple Soul
FZ: 'i certainly hope it gets there in one piece.'
FZ: 'i know i'm excited about the game itself, but without you guys there's really no point'
FZ: 'i wonder what kind of game it's gonna be. maybe like some kind of RPG?'

FZ: 'that'd be a fun twist.'

You remind yourself, yet again, that you don't recall when Parser said the package would be coming. Where it be, anyways? Maybe near the front of your hive? The roof? By the lake? Getting up you decide to choose a location and hope that's where it lands. Though, if you're wrong, theirs no harm in double checking the other areas, right? You stand up, putting your MATERIALS on the counter close to you, and grab your STRIPESTAFF in case any trolls find themselves nearby when you exit your hive. After that, you adjust your JESTER CAP, the bells slightly jingling, before exiting your respiteblock and heading down the stairs.

Entering the MAIN ATRIUM, you take a second to look over what you have there at the moment. While from what you gleaned from other Purplebloods, rooms like this were designed for heavy training or trophies, you made it something different. Sitting against wall closest, next to where a hole for the stairs is, is an average-sized STAGE made from the wood of the surrounding jungle-forest, with large purple drapes resting neatly over most of the object. In front of the stage are a few TABLES, which have various WORKINGS on them. Several of your WRITTEN works, some WRITING UTENSILS, a few UNFINISHED MARIONETTES next to DESIGN PLANS, a GUIDE ON HOW TO TAKE CARE OF WORKERS, some books on profiles of LESSER KNOWN HIGHBLOODS of the GREAT REGIME, various strings and woodworkings, and several KEYS.

Parallel to the atrium are most of the rooms in your hive on the first floor, including your GRUBBLOCK (though you aren't feeling very peckish), your GAMEBLOCK, and your STORAGEBLOCK. In between all of those, lies your front entrance.
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Drinker of coffees
Wow, this nerd hasn't done something in a while.​

BA: Does your lusus Not teach you Things?
BA: Regardless, I should perhaps heed my own advice and also block those who bother me.
BA: But I Cannot stand those who Put Themselves Over Others. They are Ignorant and Uncouth.
BA: And if They refuse to listen to Those They Perceive to be Lower than them, perhaps Someone like Me can instead Influence them to become better?
BA: But I cannot do so if they are blocked.

Contrary to your initial intent, your conversation with Mavrik has not succeeded in calming you down. If anything, it riled you up more. Well, that's nothing a little pruning can't fix.

You relocate your PALMHUSK into you CHRYSALIS modus, not really caring that you won't be able to take it out again until it finishes metamorphosis. You instead don your weapon of choice, SHEARS. They're like scissors, but much, much sharper. Your pair are exceptionally big, suited to trimming out large plants, or large sections of plants. Now, to tackle those pesky vines...

Nearby, you'd set up a small platform to allow you access to a pulley system that helps you scale the massive glass walls of your hive. Strapping into a harness, you flick on the small motor to slowly pull yourself up and across the thick glass panes, slowly walking along with your feet on the wall. Upon reaching the section you intent to snip, you flick off the motor and begin trimming away. Tiny butterflies flutter about from flower to flower, and you are very careful to not cut off any part of the plant they are clinging to.

Briefly, you wonder about the package your mutual friend had said was supposed to arrive today, an attempt to distract you from the seething anger from Chittr. At least knowing when to expect the package would have been a plus. Up on the wall, with nothing but your thoughts and butterflies, you can't help wondering about what the game might be, but come to the conclusion that in the end, it wouldn't really matter, as long as you're playing with your friends. Taking a moment to turn and overlook your lush and well-populated garden, you sigh, wondering what exactly will happen to this place once you're forced to leave the planet permanently. It would become overgrown, perhaps, or wither away into nothing, returning to the barren expanse that the plateau was before you'd arrived. It's saddening, really, to see that all the hard work you'd put in to make this place a proper hive, only to be forced to leave once you've grown old enough.

Ah, well... it can't be helped. Maybe things would change if Annlei actually became empress.​
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⇒ Annlei: Hunt

You never liked this part. Tearing an innocent lusus away from it’s troll and life, just to be sacrificed to some elder god that happens to be your mom- Not that you know what a mom is.- is cruel. But that’s what Alternia is; Cruel. You do your best to ignore the cries of the clickbeast, but the sound itself disturbs the ocean around you, not to mention your ears. A part of you almost wishes that it bothered you more.

Dragging large creatures' corpses by net like this used to be quite the ordeal, but over the sweeps you’ve grown strong enough to do it with relative ease. Violet blood covers your cutlass, leaving a small trail behind you that quickly dilutes into the sea.

Eventually, you come face to face with your caretaker. She dwarfs you in size, she dwarfs castles in size. Despite this, you’ve always felt you have space, that she isn’t breathing down your neck. Probably because if she tried to even think about entering your hive, she would crush the entire structure under one of her tentacles.

Untying the net, the clickbeast drifts towards her parted lips, the violet blood of the beast releasing further. Luckily for you and all of Alternia, she’s never raised her voice in many lifetimes.

As you turn away and begin heading home, you decide to open up Chittr and post something.

What will you post?
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DK: noT.....really?
DK: he's sorT of.....a liTTle biT jusT.....uh.....laissez faire abouT The whole......parenTing, Thing
DK: he's also noT That......well, how would i puT This.....smarT
DK: and why is iT your job to educaTe people anyway?
DK: they all kinda seem.....eh, like.....assholes? doesn'T seem worTh iT to me

You continue messaging your friend before you descend from your second story block down to your meal preparatory. You decide to eat some leftovers in the cold cocoon from last night's dinner. Kale never exactly goes bad, anyway. Perhaps it's a good day to check in on your lusus and seeing how he's doing with some of the new arrivals? Suspiciously there have been fewer and fewer lusii wandering through your part of the woods lately. Perhaps because they've just been getting better at not getting themselves stuck in traps or accidents, or because they all sense something bad is coming. But that's probably just your anxiety talking.

You decide to wander over to your earth pit where you grow all manner of wonderful vegetables and assorted green foods. Though green isn't exactly the right words to describe them. The soil around your hive is known for having a strange affect on just the coloration of all the things that grow from it. That's why even in the dark seasons they remain their lovely bright autumnal shades, though such a word would be foreign to your alien tongue, we recognize it as shorthand for yellow, orange, vermillion and so on. Some say that it was caused to be this way from the blood of countless of your ancestor's followers and their lusii being slaughtered here, their bodies helping to regrow the forests that were cut down in the conflict.

....but that's not something you choose to dwell on.

> Mavrik: do a lil' dance!

You elect to do a little dance because no one's watching. You find it silly and amusing, and then fall on top of a pile of leaves. You feel like there are a number of very important things you should no doubt be getting on right about now, but you can't really recall. Besides, who cares if you faff about for a bit? It's not like anyone's watching in anticipation. Hm, maybe you should go play with cowdad for a bit to pass the time? He's been getting much better at the 'which hands holds the treat' game lately. Though you aren't sure how.​

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