Beforus!Eridan: so, in reality, wwe do not learn, and wwhat wwe call learning is only a process of recollection-
Beforus!Karkat: DO DO DO DO!
Beforus!Eridan: oh goddamnit not you again
Beforus!Karkat: WHAT’S UP, FUCKERS?
Beforus!Karkat, holding up a featherless chicken: HEY CHECK OUT THIS PERSON I FOUND!
Beforus!Karkat, still holding up the chicken: ISNT IT SUCH A HUMAN?
Beforus!Karkat: LOOK AT HIM, WOW!
*He just, throws it on the floor.*
Beforus!Karkat: WHAT A GUY!
Beforus!Karkat: ANYWAY, LOVE TO STAY AND CHAT, BUT I FOUND SOME TRASH OUTSIDE THAT LOOKED DELICIOUS!
Beforus!Karkat: SMELL YA LATER, DELIBERATOR
*Beforan Kanaya raises her hand.*
Beforus!Eridan: *sigh* yes my student
Beforus!Kanaya: Yeah Uh What The Fuck
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“can’t you blink out of here?”
“no.”
“why?”
“plot convenience.”
"what do you mean, plot convenience?"
"You mean you don't know?"
He looked at you, genuinely shocked. The line between his eyebrows deepened as he realised you really were being honest with him.
"Five, you're scaring me."
He flopped down on top of a crate and studied his shoes for a moment.
"I thought everybody knew."
You shook your head, feeling the fear build and twist in your guts. He let out a long breath and looked up at you from tired, green eyes.
"None of this is real. None of it. This entire universe, everything about us is fiction. So I can't blink us out of here. The Author forbids it."
"What are you talking about?"
"I' sorry to tell you, but we're fictional characters. Notice how weird it was that we'd suddenly get locked in here? What the fuck are we even doing in the basement of a JC Penneys, right? Yeah, none of that was by chance. The Author planned it all."
"Five, this isn't funny."
"No. It isn't. We're perpetually trapped at the end of the pen of a sexually frustrated megalomaniac who retreats into the world of fiction as an escape from the fundamental disappointment of her own life." he said, like an asshole upon whom I shall have my revenge.
Five sighed again, knowing he had just secured himself a beating but squaring his shoulders nevertheless, taking control of the situation for the sake of others, despite his own despair. That's one of the things I like about him.
"We seem to be in a classic 'locked in' scenario right now," he said, "so I'd estimate there are roughly three roads we could go down."
He held up one finger on his right hand to illustrate.
"Number one: we have an argument, make up and come out of the experience knowing and respecting each other better. That is the best case scenario, but it's risky because it can also lead to scenario two-"
He lifted a second finger, grimly.
"The sexual tension ramps up, perhaps it's through the argument we started in scenerio one, or perhaps not but, essentially, before we escape we at least have to confess our love for one another, but almost certainly have hot sweaty sex.-"
"Five-"
"And Three: we're actually in the horror genre and one of us murders the other after a terrifying game of cat and mouse."
You stared at him, mouth agape. Hot sweaty sex? A game of cat and mouse? What on earth was happening here?
"I know this is hard to hear," he continued, "but you gotta accept it. It's easier for me, She has me drinking a lot as a coping mechanism for the terrible things She makes happen to me. It's bad writing but it does dull everything."
He looked down at his shoes again, considering how unwise it was to point out the clumsiness of My one-note attempts to portray dysfunctional coping mechanisms but, having already thoroughly incurred My wrath, found that he didn't care.
Looking at him warily, you ventured to comment once more.
"Five, are you...are you prescribed any meds?"
"The Author will decide, I have no control over Her. Now listen, I vote we just try to make one of the plots happen. It might get us out of here faster. I'll start by calling you a cunt and then you argue back, okay? It's the only way to appease The Author."
Partly to give yourself a break from this madness, you took your eyes off Five and looked slowly around the basement. Your eyes stopped on a particular item, hanging on the opposite wall. One that made everything fall into place.
You were locked in a basement with a trained killer suffering from psychotic delusions. And over there on the wall...?
Why, there was a fire axe of course.
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