"Didn't mean to make your heart Blue" || [6/...]
— OPLA!Buggy x F!Reader
“On sunny days I go out walking, I end up on a tree-lined street. I look up at the gaps of sunlight. I miss you more than anything."
— Mitski, "Francis Forever"
Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live action) x F!Reader
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 7
Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends.
The crew arrives at the Baratie, and several things go down in a matter of hours. Decisions are made, both stupid and not so stupid. Old and new faces come back into your life, and unable to deal with the events in Orange Town, you handle it in the worst best way possible: through the bottle.
Warnings: Canon typical violence, fem!reader, LA!Verse, slight canon divergence, alcoholic indulgence on a catastrophic scale (drink responsibly ppl), blackouts, morally grey reader, violence, mentions of everyone (marine, fish people, pirates, etc.) having a past beef with Reader/"Cross-Hairs", Buggy POV in the end,
A/N: So, since this chapter was delayed, I think it compensates due to the fact that it is approximately 7k words long.
The chapter jumps a little between the events of the Baratie, but there's a reason for that: the reason being that the Reader is shitfaced for most of the time during this chapter.
Also, shout out to @ay0nha for putting up with my rambles during this period, really appreciate it XD
It hurts. Everything hurts. That’s the first thing he feels.
His feet, his back, his torso, but especially his head. It’s like a hamster is running on a wheel inside the bones in his skull, squeaking, chirping, driving him insane from the inside.
The wheel is pounding, and pounding until all he wants is to chuck that fucking hamster into–
“Hey, he’s waking up!”
Shanks? Why is he in his head? Fuck, he takes it back. The hamster can stay, rent-free, for as long as it fucking wants to, as long as it isn’t fucking Shanks—
“Buggy?”
On second thoughts, that voice doesn’t strike any sense of irritation with him. In fact, he finds it comforting, like the morning sun shining atop the ship deck. He doesn’t mind listening to that.
“Buggy?”
His eyes open, and he thinks he's seeing the sun for the first time. The sun and the moon, in fact, at the same time. Golden, blinding, warm, and cold, but he wants to watch them until his vision turns white and all sense of sight abandons him.
It’ll suck to be blind, but damn, what a hell of a way to go.
The more he stares, however, the more everything else falls back into place. He realizes it’s not suns he’s staring at, but two sharp eyes and a concerned face that makes him feel just as warm.
He’s in a bed, he finally discovers. There’s a pillow under his head, a fresh sheet up until his midsection which strangely smells of vinegar, inside a room he just now remembers is the Oro Jackson’s de-facto ‘infirmary’ which really is just an old storage space that was refurnished when they first got the ship.
There’s something wrapped around his head, tight but not too tight that it’s squeezing. It’s been done by precise and sturdy hands; a professional, someone who knows what they’re doing.
He blinks once, then twice, and everything around him finally settles. Including everyone perched around the bed.
“Ah, Buggy, my lad!” It’s hard not to recognize the booming voice of his captain, who proceeds to lean over him with his hands pressed around his biceps until the massive mustache trickles his chin. “Thought you were a goner for a moment!”
He kind of wishes he was one because the strength of Gol D. Roger is not to be underestimated. His ribs squeeze and it's hard to breathe, but out of respect for his captain, all that leaves his throat is a guttural groan that he hopes conveys the message clearly enough.
Gol D. promptly removes himself from his poor apprentice with his hands raised, and when he steps back, Shanks takes his place next to the bed. “Gods, Buggy! What were you thinking? You could’ve been killed! Rayleigh said you were lucky it was just a concussion!”
That’s when it dawns on him. Riiight, there was a scuttle. Some asshole pirates trying to ambush them, they picked the wrong fucking targets. Some … guy was flying over him? Did that happen, or was it just a fever dream?
He remembers kicking someone in the balls, and then … and then …
Lightning. Making its way for him as the darkness embraced his vision. A line of gold, straight as a sword, narrowing in on him.
Did it catch him before the darkness did?
He hopes so.
“Lay off me, will ‘ya!” he shouts at his friend, trying to get up. However, the fucking hamster wheel in his head keeps spinning until he settles back down against the pillow. “I was doing good!”
“Yeah, until you weren’t!” Shanks disputes and grabs his fellow apprentice by the collar of his sleeve. “I told you to fucking move, but it’s like you spaced out! She had to carry you all the way back here with your head all bleeding!”
Carry him?
He glances at you, finally. You’re sitting there, hunched slightly over the bed with those eyes looking at him, and he’s thinking you fucking carried him? It’s not that he’s ashamed, not at all, but if anything, he was always hoping the roles were switched.
He’d be the one carrying you. With your strength, he imagined it would be quite the weight to uphold, but he would do it. For you, he would move the seas if he could, Devil Fruit or not.
“Buggy, are you alright?”
You’re the one talking this time. Not the captain, nor Shanks, just you. The lighting is here, and he feels his skin prick. It’s electric. Cold. Warm. All and nothing combined. He could listen to it – feel it – for hours, days, maybe even years without ever growing weary of it.
He puts on his best brave face and scoffs, forcing his arms to cross themselves despite the surge of aches that rush through his body doing so. “Of course I’m alright! I’m Buggy! I bounce back, always!”
“Still,” your hands fall on top of his, and he feels his body freeze. “I was worried.”
“’Worried’?” Shanks cackles and gestures to you with his thumb over his shoulder. “You should’ve seen the damage she left behind. The entire place was smithereens, I tell you, Buggy! She knocked over those assholes like frickin’ chessboard pieces!”
“What did I always tell you?” Gol D. slams a hand on top of your shoulder, knocking you slightly forward. “She’s got eyes sharp enough to cut through steel, and pirates too, apparently.”
You laugh awkwardly. “I didn’t cut through them, really. I just … knocked them a little over.”
Shanks cackles. “Don’t be humble. You should’ve seen the guy who knocked you out. I swear, none of his bones were where they were supposed to be. He won’t be walking, or doing much of anything, ever again.”
Buggy can imagine it, but also not. He looks at you now, and he sees his concerned friend with those kind eyes that contain both the sun and the moon. He’s always known you’re strong – the strongest person he knows of save for his captain, but not unkind. Not cruel. Not sadistic.
Yet, if what Shanks just said carries any weight, it confirms what he’s always known.
You’re a beast, and beasts only follow their prime instincts. They don’t allow others to harm what or who they consider theirs.
And it means that you consider him yours.
Maybe in a different way than he’d prefer, maybe in a way that’s different from the kind he harbors towards you, but it still confirms he’s yours.
He will never want to find himself on the opposite side of that. Of you. Never you.
When he looks at you again, looks down at where your hand is pressed on top of his, he takes it in his own.
“I’m fine,” he finally says, his lip tugging in what is supposed to be a smile. “Remind me not to get on your bad side, though.”
You chuckle softly, and he smiles. Fuck, how can he not? He remembers it all so clearly. The way your dimples are shaped, the length of your hair, the soft tint of your lips.
“You? Never.” You finally say. “Never you”
---
You reflect on how it's weird that some things change whereas others don't.
Flowers prosper and bloom and die. The sun ascends, stays up for a few hours, then descends back into the horizon.
Friendships grow strong, stay strong, then they aren't.
Some things change, some don't.
Baratie being among the latter.
It's bright enough inside to momentarily blind you, just like it was a little over ten years ago. Save for new faces with the employees and some design choices, the overall place has stayed the same.
There are people there of prestigious backgrounds - both pirate and not - and you think of how receptive the restaurant must've been to make both parts come together without any regular scuttles.
A neutral ground for all to come and enjoy the feast. Well, that is the principle, but not everyone abides by it.
It’s been a while since you last visited the establishment, and last time, you were banned for life.
Frankly, you don’t recall much of the events; too drunk on rum at the time.
What you do remember is that it involved a few broken bottles of Baratie’s finest wine, some mashed-up furniture, and cutlery, a rival captain who wouldn’t take a “fucking get lost” for a “no”, and it ended with you standing surrounded by a bunch of broken bodies of your own making.
Needless to say, Zeff was pissed.
More than pissed, actually. He was fuming.
He probably still is.He has a thing for grudges if he’s still alive.
Maybe … Just maybe the old man’s chewed off something more than his leg and kicked the bucket? That’d be a sight to see considering he only has one remaining foot.
"My name is Sanji. What can I get for you?"
The waiter - Sanji - is fine, not going to lie. A good fighter, too, if his little display seconds ago is a testament to that. A bit too young for your preference, with a nose too small, and hair too bright and blonde. Not quite blue colorful enough.
All in all, not a bad look at all. Just for the aesthetics, though. A solid 7/10, you conclude.
"One of everything, please!" Luffy requests enthusiastically.
For whatever reason, Sanji does not seem to share your general affinity for the restaurant. That’s odd. Most people who work here tend to boast about their occupation in the famed restaurant.
Though, if you have to make a guess, Zeff is likely a contributing factor behind that disdain. He’s tough on people, even tougher if he likes someone.
As discontented as Sanji seems, however, it does not keep him from trying to withhold his flirtatious demeanor with Nami. A Casanova, it looks like. Funny.
"Waiter, can I get a beer and something for my friends?" Zoro asks, fed up with the one-sided dalliance going on between your shipmate and the waiter.
"Two beers!” Usopp promptly adds. “though, I usually have three."
"And one milk!" Luffy chimes in.
"Three beers and a milk," Sanji notes. His eyes land on you, and that signature smile falls to his lips. "And for the ladies?"
You’re already here, you think to yourself. Why not make the most of it? For nostalgia’s sake.
"A bottle of Baratie's Finest," you request, your chin resting in your palm. "Not the kind you keep for customers, though. Pick one from Zeff's private stash, if you can afford to smuggle it past his bushy nose?"
"A classy beverage for a classy lady, I see." A mischievous glimmer shines in his eyes and smile. "Although that stash is off-limits, what kind of a man would I be if I refused a lady her desired beverage?”
You tilt your head a fraction to the side. "I'm sure he won't mind. At his age, he needs to watch his liver."
"That is true,"
Quite frankly, everything else evades your attention the second the waiter arrives with your order. Sanji brings you your meals, and your pricey bottle of Baratie's Finest, and it’s the Red Apple edition.
Perfect.
You eat, and eat, and drink, and then drink some more, not even stopping to concern yourself with the price tag.
The food at the Baratie's has not been in decline when it comes to quality above all else. It's delicious, and not a lot of places have earned that kind of claim in your life.
The food is good, but the drinks are ethereal.
One glass turns into two, and two promptly becomes three. So forth, and so forth. Anything to dull the tightness lodged in your chest.
A tightness that has not left you alone in the past couple of weeks.
You've developed a pretty good tolerance over the years, and after several more units, you begin to feel the tickle on the edge of your hands. Baratie’s Finest indeed.
After five, the feeling settles on the tip of your spine.
After seven, you start to wonder what went wrong. It's a dangerous area to indulge in, especially if liquor is involved, but you don’t stop.
What went wrong?
What did you do wrong?
In another life, you would've traveled the world with them, doing nothing but drinking, fighting, exploring together.
Instead, you’re here, drinking with a crew yet still feeling like the loneliest asshole in the world. It’s not your crew.
You lose a smidgen of focus, and in the grand specter of things, focus is something you could do well with less off.
You can afford to think less, feel less, and know less. Life has been full of ups and downs, and quite frankly, you've grown weary of it all.
Fuck, maybe Luffy’s onto something? Maybe you are sad?
… Nah.
Once Zoro orders another beer, you go as far as to share your bottle with him. His face scrunches at the taste and he coughs several times, but he admits that it’s good.
As you sit there on the edge of the couch, sipping your beverage and tasting your food, Sanji arrives to collect the bill. You know Luffy doesn’t have a berry to his name yet, and so you wonder how long it'll take before Zeff notices.
More specifically, how long it’ll take him before he realizes he's missing something from his private collection?
“Who the hell is Monkey D. Luffy?!”
Speak of the Chief… and he shall appear.
This time, you do not interfere when Luffy attempts to bargain for his lack of cash. You simply sit back and observe.
As much as Luffy tries, he does not have the words or mind suited for this kind of business yet. It’s Capitalism at its finest.
“You eat, you pay!”
Thoughts and dreams can only get you so far in life, but at the Baratie, it’s coin.
When Zeff grabs Luffy by the front of his shirt, the chief's eyes turn to you, and holy hell, is he furious.
“And what in the blazing hell are you doing here?!"
“Zeff,” You greet him and raise your beverage his way, a tilted smirk on your face. "It’s been too long."
"Not long enough! I thought I told you to get fucking lost last time? The damages you did cost a fortune!"
“In my defense, it was the other guys that started it.”
He gives you such a dirty look that his jaws clench. “Don’t give a shit. Why are you here?”
You twirl the bottle around in your hand. "Just enjoying the ambiance, as always. I was in the area, and so how could I pass up the chance to try your scrumptious meals again? Or drinks, for that matter?"
On cue, you raise your - or rather his - bottle closer up to him.
It’s stupid, the rational part of your brain argues. One does not fuck around with the Chief of the Baratie, but among the few joys you have left in life, this remains one of them.
His eyes narrow in on the bottle and there he is.In the blink of an eye, he snaps it out of your hand with such fast precision that you're almost caught off-guard.
Zeff narrows in on the mostly empty flask like it's personally insulted him and his entire lineage. “Where did you get this?"
"It was on the menu."
"It sure as shit was not! How could you—" He freezes like a thought suddenly dawned on him, and if a man can become purple from anything other than oxygen deprivation, Zeff's current mood is the closest thing to it. "Sanji. Why that snot-nosed, little—! ... When I get my damn hands on him."
It seems that whatever vendetta Zeff has towards his employee, it outweighs the one he has for you tenfold, which says something. Without another word, he yanks Luffy by the scruff and all but drags him with him to the kitchen.
Ordinarily, you would’ve intervened on behalf of your captain, but with Zeff now preoccupied, it’s your chance to rob the bar of a few more beverages.
And in your dictionary, “a few” is the equivalent of “a shitton”.
"Wow," Usopp murmurs with a low whistle. "That guy really hates your guts."
"What are you talking about? I’m his favorite customer." You raise what remains in your glass to them. “Anyone want another one?”
"I do," Nami relents.
Zoro laughs, probably for the first time since you’ve met him. "Now you're talking."
Maybe, just maybe, you’re beginning to like these people.
With a couple more drinks, maybe you’ll be able to tell.
———
“You know, I kind— I kinda assumed you were an asshole when we first met?”
Usopp’s struggling to stand on his feet, legs bent slightly forward as he makes a half-assed attempt at ordering another drink. You can’t tell if the bartender is electively ignoring him or not, and truth be told, you don't blame the guy if the former applies.
Between the two of you, you’re more adept when it comes to dealing with liquor. Sure, your lips are a little looser now and the bright lights are starting to hurt your eyes, but all in all, you’re not even half as drunk as you want to be.
Seriously, fuck me sometimes. You just had to go all out when you were younger. Days and nights spent pouring bottle after bottle left your liver hardened rather than weakened.
Now, because of the high tolerance you stupidly developed, it's come here to bite you in the ass and keep you from getting wrecked.
“Oh?” Your sarcasm couldn't be any more discernible than it is now as you eye your crew mate. “What made you reach that conclusion?”
Usopp twirls around, horribly off-balanced, and slaps a hand over your shoulder.
A little too personal for your liking, but you let it slide for now.
“I mean, for starters, you—,” he hiccups. “You always have that look about you. Like someone just pissed in your ale.”
You give him an unimpressed but vaguely piqued once-over. “Descriptive. Go on,”
“And soso— And so I and the guys are wondering if you’re like that because some clown broke your heart or—,” he hiccups again. “Or some— something? Did he piss in your ale?”
You shrug his hand off at once. You don’t want to think about him, now least of all. "No.”
Not even a second later, his arm his back over your shoulder and he leans closer. It's probably meant as a comforting gesture, but given how absolutely wasted he looks, you perceive it with a grain of salt.
"Y-You can tell the great Capt— I mean, the Great Usopp, alright? We've all been there before, I—I'm ssssure. I mean, Zoro doesn't strike me as much of a ladies' man, but he's probably got stories, too."
The bartender finally stops by and leaves a beer bottle in front of you on the table, completely ignoring your companion, and disappears to make his next rounds.
You take the flask and flick the cork off with your thumb. "Well, if you really want to help, —"
You turn around so that your back hits the bar counter, twirl Ussop around with the guidance of your hand and shove him lightly towards where Nami and Zoro are sitting. "— Talk to the others first about their heartbreaks."
If he wants to object, he's too drunk to for it. Instead, he recollects his limited stance and all but wobbles over to the corner where your other companions are seated.
He’s their problem now, but it’ll be an interesting display.
You recline against the bar counter to chug your beverage in peace when a voice suddenly speaks up from next to you.
“I thought you were retired.”
With how loud the music is, it might have slipped your notice completely. Then again, the owner of said voice has always had that thing about him.
He could whisper, and the entire room would’ve heard.
You glance up at your side, and you’re halfway tempted to smile when you see who it is.
“It’s been a while, Hawk-Eyes.”
Everything from the feather on his hat to the cross around his neck and the pointy way his beard is trimmed has stayed the same. Not a scar, a bruise, or blemish to spot on him.
In ten years, he looks to have aged only one. Some people are fortunate in terms of youth, and you would definitely consider Dracule Mihawk one of them.
“Cross-Hairs.” He inclines his head to you, a silent courtesy reserved only for those whose company he tolerates. “I believed you abandoned your life behind the mast years ago.”
You take another generous gulp from your bottle before you respond. "So did I, but life finds a way, doesn't it?"
"Indeed." He peeks over his shoulder to where your companions are seated, his countenance less than impressed. Then again, that's just his face by default, so hard to tell with him. "And last we met, you were a Captain."
"Last time we met, you almost cut my right arm off." For emphasis, you pull back your sleeve to show off the straight scar that separates your upper arm from the rest. It's faded, old, and never noticeable unless you decide to wear anything short-sleeved, but it's there all the same.
He doesn't apologize. Of course, he wouldn't. Instead, he raises his sparse glass of wine to you. "Nothing personal."
You raise your bottle to him in turn. "Of course not,"
Clink!
You drink your respective beverages in companionable silence. However, even with your halfway inebriated state of mind, you can't help but think of the reasons for his presence.
You have your suspicions, and you're not shy about voicing them.
"This isn't your usual scenery." You say. “What makes one of the great Warlords of the Sea seek out a place such as this? Business or pleasure?"
"Business," he answers curtly, as though he'd prefer to do anything but. "I'm looking for a captain."
“It’s not Shanks, I take it?”
“No, it’s not. It’s a captain by the name of Luffy.”
It doesn't surprise you. It should, but it doesn’t.
The lengths the vice-admiral is willing to go to retrieve his grandson, which apparently includes hiring a Warlord to do so, doesn’t surprise you in the slightest. Unbreakable willpower is a family trait, after all, if you've learned anything from Luffy.
It wouldn’t suffice with a gun; he had to send the entire fucking arsenal.
Still, at least it’s Mihawk of all people. It shouldn’t be a source of relief, but had it been anyone else, be it Kuro or Axe-hand or Bu-...
Your fingers subconsciously dig into the fragile, empty bottle you’re holding.
The point is, had it been anyone else, you would've intervened. You have intervened, several times by now, but not tonight.
Tonight, you're here to drink and forget, then drink some more. You don’t have the sobriety to worry about much of anything anymore.
"Garp must truly be at his wit's end if he employs you for his endeavors." Once you retrieve the bottle at your disposal, you pluck off the cap and swirl it lazily in your hand. The lights from the bar dance around the transparently brown rim, like a shooting star with no exit and no entrance to the rest of the universe. Forever stuck. "Seems excessive to send you of all people after something so seemingly simple."
"From what I've heard, this particular quarry is something of a wildcard."
"If you’re here, I’m sure of it."
Mihawk tilts his chin up, eyeing you curiously in your peripheral vision. "Are you saying that you're acquainted with this Luffy?"
"I'm saying no such thing. It's just mere speculations on my part." Another fistful of alcohol travels down your esophagus. "You're only employed when it's truly serious, and the vice-admiral is known for only getting involved in those kinds of matters. It adds up, is all I’m saying."
“I hardly consider it dire. It's more a means of killing some time on my part." He does not take his eyes off of you, and even in your current state, you can tell that something is brewing beneath those sharp eyes. "However, if said captain has you in his arsenal, then I feel like some investigation is warranted. After all, the Captain of the Cross-Haired pirates is not particularly known for her tendency to submit to others."
You quirk an eyebrow at him and circle your finger around the bottle rim, pondering on the subject yet not biting at the metaphorical carrot he dangles in front of you. "Technically, it’s just like you said: I'm retired, and the Cross-Haired pirates are no more. I’d think most people are aware of that.”
"The Marines believe otherwise,” he counters calmly. “The Cross-haired pirates may be disbanded, but their captain’s bounty remains on the posters. The vice-admiral was quite adamant that, while he wants the boy alive, he’d prefer it if you weren’t."
“I see.” The vice-admiral should learn to take a fucking number. “Tell me, have you elected a means of execution, or is it the dealer's choice?"
"I recall he mentioned something along the lines of wanting your head on a spike."
"Crude."
"I agree."
"Then," you raise your glass. "Am I to have my last drink here tonight?"
He shakes his head. "No, I'm here for the boy and nothing else."
You'd expect him to be forward with his line of questions; demand you just give Luffy up and be done with it, not side-stepping the subject like he's doing now.
If he suspects something, he'll sniff it out like a bloodhound until he gets what he's searching for, regardless of how many cards or people fall around him. You’ve not exactly been subtle about your affiliations with his quarry, something you’ll berate yourself for come morning, but it all depends on how this plays out now.
"I won’t give you the answer you seek. You’ll have to do that on your own.”
You're not friends, but you're not necessarily foes either.
For as long as you’ve known the swordsman, Mihawk's only ever had a beef with Shanks for reasons undisclosed even to you. Even after you parted ways with your red-haired crew mate, Mihawk never seemed to have anything personal against you despite the rather brutal nature of your previous encounter.
If anything, there's a certain level of respect veiled between you, one former pirate to another semi-former one, and it’s something you hope he'll honor just this once.
To your relief, he decides to not push the matter, but the interest lingers in his eyes.
It's not easy to notice, but you make it a habit to take note of limited details. "The boy must be something special to have earned your loyalty like this, Cross-Hairs."
"I suppose you'll have to find out for yourself."
"Perhaps so," he concedes.
You chug the rest of your drink in one go, put the empty bottle on the tabletop in the space between you, and push yourself off the counter. "For what it's worth, I wish you good fortune with your endeavor. However, I’ll warn you; if anything happens to the kid, I'll get involved.”
“Duly noted.” Once again, he dips his head to you. "And Cross-Hairs,"
"Hmmm?"
You glance at him from over your shoulder, but his gaze is fixated on something else this time. Something on the other side of the bar, to the borders of the waters. If he sees anything, you can't tell what it is, and he doesn’t share.
Not explicitly.
"There is unrest brewing in the seas," he finally reveals, casually as if he's discussing the current state of the weather. "I'd suggest you keep your feet dry for now, at your convenience."
You don't know what he speaks of, but whatever it is, you'll follow. He is not a man who prides himself on his capacity to proclaim falsehood. If he tells you that the sun is green, you'll believe it, and you make it a habit not to believe in a lot of people.
That applies to this warning too.
"I'll see you around, Hawk-Eyes."
You need another drink.
———
You slip in and out of consciousness a couple of times throughout the night, never coming to the same places twice, with a belly full of rum, beer, and whatever else with enough alcoholic percentage to knock out a horse.
At one point, you're in the restaurant munching on some bread rolls.
At another, you're puking your guts out in the bathroom stalls.
At the third, you're chugging even more liquor straight out of the bottle while a bunch of people cheer you on.
The circle goes on and on and on until it spins out of control like a zoetrope. Faces flash in front of you, one after the other, never the same two times in a row.
It's alright, you tell yourself, as long as you forget.
You forget about blue eyes, blue hair, and red noses.
You forget about Gol D. Roger and the time you spent on his crew.
You forget it all, if only for a few hours.
Next time you come to, you're still miraculously standing on your feet. You’re currently in the kitchen on the Merry, and currently listening to Nami telling a ridiculous story about how Zoro challenged Dracule Mihawk to a duel.
What a funny story.
In fact, it’s so funny and so outlandish that you can't help but snort. Since when has Nami been the kind of person to tell jokes?
Maybe Usopp's tendencies have rubbed off on the standoffish young woman, or maybe she's smoked something along with her drinks?
Fuck, you have to ask her where she got the stuff.
It takes a few moments of awkward silence until you realize that no one is joking, Nami least of all. The room is still, and as if all alcoholic content has left your blood, it dawns on you last of all.
Oh hell no.
You slowly turn to Zoro with a deadpan look in your eyes, and despite the urgency, you ask him as calmly as you can, "You challenged Dracule Mihawk to a duel?"
He bobs his head and continues polishing his swords. "Which he accepted,"
You blink, and blink, hoping that this is just a fragment your beer-and-bottle-drenched brain has conjured to fuck with you, but Zoro remains where he is and so is everyone and everything else.
Fuuuuuuuck…
You thought he was one of the smart ones, too. His sense of navigation doesn't work for shit and if anyone can get lost on their way to the lavatory, it's him. Still, you withheld some semblance of hope that he would exhibit the same kind of recklessness as his captain.
Turns out, it has all been for naught.
You rub your temples hard enough to sting. With a nasty headache developing, you decide to pop the question. "Cremation or burial at sea?"
"... What?"
"Pick one or the other, I'll see to it that arrangements can be made."
"I'm not going to die.”
"You are a fly to him." Nami grimaces. "Something to be swatted and forgotten,"
"Not if I win." Zoro is steadfast and determined, like every new pirate on their first voyage.
It’s a look you remember well. In a way, the young swordsman kind of reminds you of Mihawk himself, and if there's one thing you can link to both, it's that annoying stubbornness that never yields. Even when the odds are against them.
"You're not going to win," Nami tries.
Zoro remains infuriatingly unconvinced. "You don't know that."
"You won't." This situation, to your chagrin, sobers you up enough that you can't blame the liquor on your next actions or words.
You take a step towards him, and with an iron fist, grab him by the front of his shirt and force him to face you. He's unamused. “I think I liked you better when you were drunk,” he murmurs.
"I want you to get this, really get this.” You snarl. “Once you go against Mihawk, and there's no coming back for most. He's not known as the World's Greatest Swordsman for no reason, and as good as you are, take it from me. He'll end you."
He inclines his head to the side with deep-rooted skepticism. "Sounds like you really know the guy,"
"It doesn't matter whether I know him or not."
"Everywhere we go, we make enemies, and for some reason, they've already got a grudge against you, Captain Cross-Hairs."
With one hand clenched against your offending wrist, he starts to list off his other hand. "Since you know just about every asshole we come across, you might as well tell me about Mihawk's preferred method of execution. Will he chop me in half, or is he excessive like the damn clown and goes all the way with splitting someone into pieces?"
You feel your nails begin to pierce through the fabric of his shirt, inches away from leaving open gaps. You're not their guardian or their mentor. You're not the one supposed to keep the crew at ease or lead them towards certain victories.
That's the captain's role, and you're not it. Not on this ship, with this crew.
Your only purpose here is to keep them from killing themselves on their first voyage, but if they're so determined to do it themselves despite the warnings you provide, then it's not on you.
Pulling him a few inches closer to you, you look him straight in the eyes, and that's when you see it. The aforementioned stubbornness that follows each and every young pirate you've come across in your life. The notion that they're invulnerable; unkillable.
Nothing can hope to end them.
You remember what it was like, that feeling, and it almost breaks you to see it in front of you like this.
You know aggression won’t do it for him, so you try an approach you haven’t tried in years. Bargaining.
“What will it take for you to pull back from this?”
“He’s coming for Luffy. I’m his first mate, it’s my duty to protect the captain.”
To protect the Captain…
That's how you know that there's no convincing the young swordsman to stand down, not this time.
He's persistent, exceedingly so, and if there's one thing you've learned during this voyage with these people it's that hell hath no fury like a straw hat pirate determined.
This is not on you, yet it doesn't make it any easier to let go of him. But you do.
Taking a deep breath, you uncurl your fingers and let him step back.
"Fine."
You need another drink.
Glancing over your shoulder, you meet Luffy’s concerned gaze. “This is your call, captain.”
You don’t need to be here for this. You’ve done your part, and now it’s his turn to do his.
You give Zoro a pat on his back, just one. It's not meant for comfort, it's not an act of sympathy either.
It's just a pat, like the kind you give your friend when they're about to gamble away all their savings over a game of cards. It’s the “fuck around and find out, but do it yourself”-kind of gesture.
Heaving a sigh, you sidestep him and let your fingers fall off his shoulders. "It's been fun, Zoro."
And the worst part about this all is that you mean it, truly. It has been fun to sail with them, share a few beers, and joke at the expense of others. Your time on this ship has been fun.
Like old times.
You won't go as far as to call Zoro a friend, you never do, but it's close enough that you'll probably miss him in the long run.
Zoro looks at you, his countenance indecipherable. "Say that to me again when I win this fight,"
"I can't." Because you won't.
---
The water forces its way into his lungs at such speed that it feels like he's swallowed buckets by the time they finally come up for air. He harks and coughs and tries to get as much of it out, but he doesn’t feel any lighter.
Get it? Lighter, because he’s just a head now and— alright, forget it.
For once, he's happy his head is disjointed from the rest of his body because if it wasn't, he'd probably sink to the bottom of the ocean from the fluid in his belly alone.
The taste of salt and sand stays like a sour afterthought on his tongue, and as much as he tries to spit it out, he can't be rid of all the grains. "Fuck! Give me a warning next time, will ya?! Kinda vulnerable to seawater and all that!"
Whatever fish-guy has him strapped to their back this time does not dignify his complaints with a verbal response. Instead, all he hears is a couple of snickers, like their humor is fuelled at his expense.
Assholes, the lot of them.
It takes some time for the tangy scent to abandon his nostrils, but once it does, it's immediately replaced by the fine scent of something divine. Something delicious.
It smells of food. Actual fucking human food. Not whatever Arlong and his litter gorge on, which he personally believes to be carcasses of dead sea animals they happen to catch on the shores of their island.
It's honest-to-god cooked, seasoned, edible food.
Buggy can feel his mouth water, and for once, he cannot blame it on seawater.
They're finally at Baratie.
The finest restaurant in all the East Blue, renowned for its excellent taste and unrivaled quality. Only the richest of the rich get to dine here, and while he's not exactly flowing with berries at the moment, he’s famished.
“Hey, Lips!" he yells out as loud as he can through the shitty bag. "How about you order me some hot dogs once we get a seat? A clown's gotta eat!"
The only sort of response he gets is an elbow to the bag, which incidentally clashes right into his nose. "FUCK!"
"Shut up!"
There's scuttling to be heard, doors opening, and a shitton of gasps echo from all around him. They have an audience, he deduces, and not a particularly receptive one at that.
Arlong makes a spectacle, something about "serve" and yish and yash about dinner and last meals as they get a seat.
Fuck, what he would give for a meal.
For the first time in what feels like forever, he feels solid ground settle under his neck. Though it's a pleasant reprieve from being thrown back and forth like a yarn ball caught in a cat’s game, he won’t consider it much of an upgrade. He's fucking hungry, damnit!
"Who are you, old man?" Arlong speaks, and Buggy hears uneven steps approach them.
An unfamiliar voice answers. "My name's Zeff, and I own this place."
Right, the Chief. Maybe he can ask him for some crumbs since his captors aren’t exactly on the generous side.
"Well, I'm Arlong, and I own the East Blue."
"No one owns the sea. Not even a fish man."
Ooooh, burn! Suck on that, shitface!
"Listen up!” Arlong exclaims when the chief’s negotiation tactics fail to appease him. “I'm looking for a pirate in a straw hat! Goes by the name of Luffy!"
The saw-nosed motherfucker truly has to be even more extravagant than himself, Buggy admits to himself with no short amount of begrudging compliance. Fishface even goes as far as to threaten the poor diners with having them for dinner instead, by the sounds of it.
Buggy can appreciate the message it conveys; he’s used it himself, but he refuses to find any common ground with his captor, so he buries the sentiment ten feet down into wherever the hell his body is.
He listens as the diners lose their appetite, all the while Arlong begins to gorge on whatever he has on his plate. For a while, all he can make out is the sound of meat being torn off something and the occasional cry from one of the diners in the distance.
Even from miles and miles away, Buggy can feel his stomach twist painfully due to the lack of food in it. Oh, it’s hell on earth to smell everything you want yet being unable to even grasp it. And here his captors are, toying with him, torturing him with it.
Seriously, fuck them.
He’s about to demand to get something to chew on when Arlong’s other henchman — Kuroobi or some shit like that — beats him to it. "Hey, boss, I'm feeling for a bottle right about now."
Arlong laughs. "Don’t have to tell me. Take what you please. I don’t think that one will mind sharing one of hers.”
“And get one for me too while you’re at it,” Lips supplies.
The henchman cackles and gets up to his feet to retrieve what he’s looking for, but not before lightly kicking the bag that is Buggy’s current prison cell in the side.
“HEY!”
“Sorry.” He apologizes unapologetically.
Buggy grinds his teeth together and tries to think of something — anything — to keep his mind off his ever-rising hunger. When he gets his body back, he'll take some bottles and shove them right up these fuckers a—
CRASH!
Buggy hears the sound of something breaking from the opposite side of where the fish man just headed. Countless gasps ring through the restaurant’s interior, bouncing on the walls, and he hears the henchman’s painful wails from a distance away.
He’d laugh - he does laugh, because it seems like someone didn’t want to share their precious drinks and decided that full-on attacking one of the fish people was the appropriate kind of response.
It’s impressive, he thinks. Very much so. Oh, he’d pay to see that again, and he’ll have to give that person a fucking kiss, just for making his day a little bit better.
It’s a shame he can’t see the—
"Fucking get lost."
Buggy feels his head freeze in the bag.
He recognizes that voice. The morning sun shone atop the ship deck. Warm. Cold. All of them at once.
He's finally found you.
---
Taglist: @kurinhimenezu, @carpinchootaku, @ay0nha, @teh-vampire-bunny, @lokiscure, @internationalsuper-spy, @detectivesparrow , @yuriwk , @notyuralycat , @angeli-fucking-cat, @machinema7k , @shuujin, @avatar-lover, @gingernut1314, @autumn-slaves. @marvelouskatie, @floristoflillys, @dizzyenby, @redpool, @deliri-yum22, @aemondsb1tch, @ackroxia, @gayandfairycore (If you want to be tagged for this story, just send me a message or leave a comment :))
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Love is Stored in the Cat: A Nepeta Leijon Character Study
I guess these are a series now! I also have a request for Feferi in my inbox that I'll get around to eventually.
SO! Dear, sweet Nepeta.
Nepeta is the troll that is most against the existence of the hemocaste.
I believe the Ultimate Self speech was originally going to be from her, not Davepetasprite^2.
She's bad at shipping.
These all make her extremely impurrtant!!!
So furst of all, I'm going to start with the same disclaimer as my Eridan essay (go read that first!!! It sets up a lot of ideas that I'm expanding on here), which is that the things Hussie says are going to be lowered in value, because he likes to play coy about plot stuff. I'm also not counting anything but the actual text as canon, and even with in that text, I'm counting everything after GAME OVER as soft canon - a suggestion of what would have been, often truncated for time, often a deliberate middle finger to the shitty fandom.
Okay, so with that squared away!
Nepeta Says Fuck The Hemocaste
I'm not going to bother doing a deep dive on Nepeta's characterization, because fur the most part, I think the fandom more or less gets her right - she wears her heart (h33h33) on her sl33ve, after all! She's a very sweet little catgirl who loves roleplay and shipping, who is also a vicious hunter of wild beasts and lives in a cave. She's very nice and friendly, but has a tough streak and a spine.
She also says fuck the hemocaste, why does that even exist:
CT: D --> Your fraternization with the base classes have 100sened your morals, can't you see this
AC: :33 < no! i dont care, they are fun
AC: :33 < and i dont know anything about classes or bases or blood color, it doesn't matter!
AC: :33 < what does gr33n blood even mean! it doesnt mean anything to me and it shouldnt mean anything to anyone else!
This is a radical stance not outright shared by any of the other trolls. Aradia calls highbloods "hateful sn0bs" that she and Tavros shouldn't have "ever had anything t0 d0 with", the highbloods are, of course, all casteist to varying degrees, and even Karkat seems fairly accepting of the class divide, at one point taunting Vriska that her rejection from the blue team is "ANOTHER INFURIATING VICTORY FOR GUTTER BLOOD OVER ARISTOCRACY". Not to mention his long-held dream of becoming a threshecutioner.
Even Feferi, despite saying to Eridan that "W-E AR-E NOT B-ETT-ER T)(AN ANYBODY!!!!!", is actually perfectly comfortable with the caste system's existence, comparing having to stop using her royal typing quirk to "peasant-IFICATING" herself - and let's not forget that a Beforus under her rule had its caste system 100% intact.
This means that Nepeta is the ONLY troll who has said, in no uncertain terms, that the caste system should not exist. It's stupid, it's bad, and it doesn't meowtter!
AND SHE'S RIGHT.
But she's never able to fully express this opinion, which brings us to:
A COMPLICKATED RELATIONSHIP WITH EQUIUS
Now, before I say anything, I must insist that I do believe these two work as good moirails. That does not, however, stop them from being 13, and therefore, being poor to each other the way 13-year-olds sometimes are. I don't think they should break up; I think they should re-examine certain dynamics, and I think they need some space to breathe apart from each other.
Equius has a lot of problems, which I won't get into overmuch here, because... that's a whole essay on its own (are you people seeing a trend yet). But with regards to Nepeta specifically, he's extremely controlling and protective, to the point where she's a little scared of him before the game begins:
AC: :33 < well it does sound like it will be a lot of fun but i think i should get purrmission first
GC: BL4R!!!!!
GC: TH4TS SO STUP1D
GC: H3S NOT TH3 BOSS OF YOU
AC: :33 < i know!
AC: :33 < but still im kind of scared of him and i think purrhaps its best to just run it by him first so there isnt a kerfuffle about it or anything
She's also afraid to tell him about her crush on Karkat, since she knows he doesn't like Karkat:
AC: :33 < well
AC: :33 < i have never told anybody this not even my moirail
AC: :33 < heh, actually hes the LAST guy i might tell, he so wouldnt appurrve X33
AC: :33 < but yes i have liked somebody for quite some time, but alas he doesnt know it
By the time they end their game, she's gotten over this fear, seeing as she spends many hours curled up with Equius in a pile of robotics parts, but it still must be noted that they have some issues in their relationship that were never resolved, primarily on Equius's end. What this means for Nepeta, however, is that in addition to setting her up as the most outright anti-classism troll, the comic sets her up to be socially isolated due to her moirail's paranoia about letting her associate with both lowbloods (seeing them as bad influences) OR other highbloods, seeing them as dangerous.
He's not entirely wrong - his refusal to allow her to participate in FLARP kept her from winding up entangled in the horrible chain of revenge, as Tavros alludes:
AT: iT'S PROBABLY FOR THE BEST,
AT: tHAT YOU LISTEN TO HIM,
AC: :33 < i dont know
AC: :33 < you think so?
AT: wELL,
AT: iF YOU DIDN'T LISTEN TO HIM BEFORE,
AT: yOU MIGHT HAVE PLAYED GAMES WITH US BEFORE,
AT: aND SOMETHING BAD MIGHT HAVE HAPPENED TO YOU,
AC: :33 < hmm purrhaps
But he's still wrong. And it's probably an uncontrolled manifestation of his Heir of Void abilities - he's both consciously and unconsciously hiding her from other people.
This isn't to say she doesn't stand up for herself! Many of her discussions with Equius are pseudo-arguments, and she does get her way often enough, managing to get him to roleplay with her, and managing to get him back in the roboti% pile to talk about his feelings about Aradia. She also talks to the humans explicitly against Equius's orders, although she's keeping it a sneakret from him:
NEPETA: :33 < but equius already furbid me from doing that :((
NEPETA: :33 < not that i am listening to him, but shhhhh! :33
KARKAT: WAIT, HE DID?
KARKAT: OK, THEN AS YOUR LEADER I ORDER YOU TO RP WITH THEM AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE. BE AS OBNOXIOUS ABOUT IT AS YOU CAN.
NEPETA: :33 < yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!
But the fact that she has to tiptoe around him like this speaks to them having issues in their relationship that go unexamined and unresolved, especially since it's clear that Nepeta really would like to be friends with more people, were Equius not getting in her way. So, even though I do think they are good moirails for each other - they clearly genuinely, deeply care about one another. But they could use some relationship counselling.
In fact, Jasprosesprite^2 outright calls her lonely:
JASPROSESPRITE^2: Or the girl who likes ships! Cause they made her less lonely. ;3
So, she's anti-hemocaste and lonely, two character traits that were set up and never resolved. And beclaws this is Nepeta, in her honor, I'm going to talk about a third:
Her Unrequited Crush On Karcat
She has the BIGGEST flushed crush on Karkat. It's seen on her shipping wall twice, once with the word OTP on it.
And, despite never discussing it with her moirail, Nepeta mentions it once to Jaspersprite, and once to Jasprosesprite^2.
Now, I'm not really here to debate on the validity of KatNep - I think it's fine, even if I don't personally ship it, and don't personally think it would work out (there are lots of indications that they wouldn't work out, including Jasprosesprite^2 outright saying so). However, her crush on Karkat is both complicated and creates some interesting setups for her character. I am going to discuss it fairly critically either way, so KatNep shippers have been warned.
A lot of her feelings about Karkat - and about shipping in general - wind up being heavily interlinked with her status as a Hero of Heart, so I'm going to expand on it more there. But what I will note in this section is the fact that, despite Nepeta insisting twice that she doesn't think Karkat knows about her crush on her:
NEPETASPRITE: :33 < it was karkat
NEPETASPRITE: :33 < but i never told him and im pretty sure he never found out how i felt!
He tooootally did:
KARKAT: OK, BUT TO BE FAIR, I'M PRETTY SURE SHE'S STILL OBSESSED WITH ME.
KARKAT: IT'S A VERY UNFORTUNATE, VERY RED AND VERY UNREQUITED SITUATION I'VE BEEN TRYING TO TIPTOE AROUND FOR A LONG TIME, OK?
Interpret that how you will for shipping purposes, but I want to propose that this is a reflection of their statuses as Heart and Blood players. Heart, despite its players' obsessions with romance, is not the romance aspect, Blood is. Karkat displays this very same romantic acumen when he tells Dave that he's known Terezi and Gamzee were a thing for a long time, despite everyone else on the meteor trying to keep it a secret from him. Heart is, instead, about identity, feelings, motivations, souls, and self. In other words:
Nepeta Is Kind Of Bad At Shipping
Let's take a look at those shipping walls.
Let's break this down a little. Nepeta's ships are not entirely wrong, but even the successful ones are kind of wrong. Here's what I mean. We've already discussed how Equius and Nepeta's moirallegiance has some... issues in it. If we go down her list of ships that actually do happen, most of them have some issues in them!
Aradia expresses her regret for getting together with Equius in the Ministrife. Kanaya and Rose suffer some major relationship problems when Rose starts drinking, to the point Karkat feels a need to step in as an auspice. Karkat and Gamzee fail, as Karkat is not calmed by Gamzee, and Gamzee stops listening to Karkat. And while Sollux and Feferi seem to be fairly healthy, after they both wind up in the Furthest Ring, he's pretty much always next to Aradia - he and Feferi don't even get to exchange words with each other once they're in the Furthest Ring. Purrsonally, I think he and Feferi are meant to end up as moirails, but shhhh.
So what's happening here? Well, this goes back to her identity as a Heart player. Heart is concerned with feelings and motivations.
They simply want to understand the one thing we all are stuck with for our entire lives, i.e. our own minds. Forging an identity is extremely important to the Heart-bound, and every decision and action goes toward building a coherent narrative of their own story. That isn't to say Heart-bound don't care deeply for their friends and allies; they just have a tendency to assume that everyone is as concerned with identity as they are.
Nepeta's shipping has also been associated with her isolation and loneliness. When you put this together, it implies that Nepeta's shipping is about her desire to understand others, and much of her ships are based on one of the parties having feelings, regardless of compatibility, feasibility, or broader implications. After all, despite the fact that she has pretty terrible romantic acumen, she IS able to instinctively identify that Eridan's advances toward her were insincere:
NEPETASPRITE: :33 < well ok i guess eridan hit on me a few times
NEPETASPRITE: :33 < but his advances always struck me as cr33py and insincere
And that Karkat secretly LOVES and RESPECTS his friends:
JASPROSESPRITE^2: On the contrary Nepeta. You deserve someone who will RESPECT and ADORE you.
NEPETASPRITE: :33 < well... yes
NEPETASPRITE: :33 < i always hoped to find someone like that some day
NEPETASPRITE: :33 < i dunno maybe youre right but in spite of whatever problems he might have i always felt like i saw something in him that made me think he could be that purrson!
Or knowing that Equius loves to play games, and still feels sad about Aradia exploding:
AC: :33 < i s33 right through your stupid act, who are you trying to kid!
AC: :33 < look how you go out of your way to use words that have x's in them so that you can use your silly purrcent signs
AC: :33 < or use these absurd words that you can shoehorn a '100' into, even if its not strictly replacing 'loo'!!!
AC: :33 < you are so transpurrent
AC: :33 < i can tell you like to play games, d33p down you are a guy who likes to play games!
AC: :33 < i can smell a guy who likes to play games from so fur away with this nose, you have no idea X33
NEPETA: :33 < she was so happy, just like she used to be, and she said she would s33 you soon!
EQUIUS: D --> That's a nice thought, and thank you for sharing it
EQUIUS: D --> But it was only a dream, and will surely have no consequence in reality
NEPETA: :33 < equius?
NEPETA: :33 < are those f33lings i an detecting with my wiggly whiskery nose?
EQUIUS: D --> Maybe
Because feelings, and not relationships, are her actual domain.
And speaking of Heart powers...
Nepeta and the Ultimate Self
So from this point forward, I'm going to assume you're more or less agreeing with my take that at some point after Game Over, Hussie - for whatever reason - gave up on his original ending, and wound up truncating his ideas so he could finish the comic faster. I go more into detail about that here.
So, in this hypothetical original ending, I firmly believe that the speech about the Ultimate Self would have come from Nepeta. First, let's take a look at what the "Ultimate Self" entails, as it appears within the comic:
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < everything that ever happens to every version of you is an important part of your ultimate self... like a superceding bodyless and timeless persona that crosses the boundaries of paradox space and unlike god tiers or bubble ghosts or whatever, it really IS immortal
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < but in your physical form there are all these partitions in your mind that prevent you from remembering any of that which makes your existence f33l totally linear
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < which is probably for the best!
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < in a regular body s33ing all that would be too overwhelming
...
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < and after it sinks in for a while you start coming to this understanding of a greater self
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < maybe i "got it" quicker though because of the two people i was and their aspects
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < understanding heart is all about the nuances of a distributed self
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < nepeta never got to make much headway with her aspect but shes finally gettin the chance
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < the time aspect is all about running into different versions of yourself so you kinda get confronted with it in a really literal way that can be disturbing
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < obviously davesprite stuggled with that too, but now its fine
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < hes fr33 from worrying about it all and what it means for his place in reality
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < because he can s33 now all his selves have relevance in painting the full picture of who he truly is
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < im not COMPLETELY sure because im not like some sort of ASPECT MASTER but
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < my avian slash feline intuition tells me that all roads will lead you here eventually
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < gaining the d33pest possible understanding of any aspect will bring you to the same final conclusion about your ultimate self
Now, I believe - and I hope you'll agree - that it's kind of lame, narratively, for Davesprite to have been set up with so much angst about not being the "real Dave," and for Nepeta to have all her issues with loneliness and shyness, and for these two specific iterations of each other to have never interacted, but suddenly getting double-prototyped fixes all of their problems, and they achieve Ultimate Selfhood despite being two total strangers to each other. So let's instead break down the more salient points about what Ultimate Selfhood entails, divorced from the fact that it's Davepetasprite^2 doing the narrating:
Every player in the game possesses an "Ultimate Self," an ultimate culmination of all their experiences and memories, specifically referred to as a "persona"
Normally, people are not aware of this, because it would be too overwhelming to deal with so many memories and iterations of each other.
Everyone will achieve Ultimate Selfhood eventually as the final culmination of their understanding of their aspect.
Heart is all about the nuances of a distributed self.
Let's talk about that last one some more, and by that I mean, let's see what Calliope has to say about it:
TT: I don't know why it had to be this way for me. Juggling these two waking selves at once.
TT: I guess I'm used to it, but it still makes for a pretty intense existence.
TT: Do you even know what the deal with that is? Like is there any precedent in your readings?
UU: i don't know aboUt precedent, bUt it makes plenty of sense to me as the type of path one might expect for a hero of heart.
UU: a path rUled by the heart aspect can be a joUrney of splintered self.
UU: that is, the player's being may exhibit the same kind of fragmentation which certain classes coUld caUse in others.
UU: i think this is what has triggered yoUr dUal-awareness between waking and dream selves, thoUgh it woUld not sUrprise me if the symptoms manifested in even more ways than this.
Now, Dirk has a clawmplicated relationship with his alternate selves, given that he's a Prince, but Nepeta wouldn't have the same struggles, or at least, not to the same degree. The problem is, hampered by Equius and her own shyness about discussing her thoughts and feelings with others:
NEPETASPRITE: :33 < i get so shy and worried what people might think of me if i say how i f33l
NEPETASPRITE: :33 < im always so scared that they wont f33l the same way or just think im stupid or pathetic or something
She never actually gets to explore this part of herself.
But What If... She Did?
The way I imagine the original ending going is that each troll that gets saved by John's interference in the timeline then asks John to help them fix their own mistakes, thereby saving somebody else. Each successive trip through the meteor brings new character development, and also riddles the comic with progressively more password pages, which I think would be really funny. And throughout all this the Game Over team is searching for Vriska, Meenah, and the treasure, and resolving their arcs that way, so it's not like they would be replaced - they're the ones who get to kill LE. The process, in my mind, goes like this:
Terezi asks John to save Vriska, and prevent her from getting too spades with Gamzee, as these are her two greatest regrets.
Vriska obviously had great regrets about killing Tavros, both pre- and post-retcon, so she asks for his death to be prevented.
Tavros staying alive means that he and Gamzee wind up hashing out some stuff - Gamzee mentions that he feels "So aT ChIlL WiTh yOu" while talking to Tavros, and Tavros reciprocates the friendship and also - interestingly - acknowledges Gamzee's religion, calling it beautiful even if he doesn't necessarily believe in it. This is interesting because Karkat's inability to do so is explicitly one of the reasons their moirallegiance broke down. So having Tavros back, alive, means that he and Gamzee would likely end up in some sort of relationship, probably pale despite flushed leanings, and would bring Gamzee back into the fold.
Gamzee would then be like, yeah, wow, that time I killed Nepeta and Equius was pretty bad, huh? Especially since his decision to hang onto his friends' bodies and prototype them is often interpreted as him genuinely feeling bad about his dead friends (he tells Kurloz to shut up when Kurloz mentions all the dead friends, and his religion seems to be about a paradise he wants to share with his friends anyway). So he'd ask John to prevent him from killing them, resulting in the two of them getting to live.
Things get much more hypothetical from here, since so much of the character dynamics would have changed, but I think by this point, Equius might command ask John to let him say goodbye to Aradiabot before she explodes, which he expresses feeling very sad about. However, in doing so, John and Aradiabot end up in the same room, and when she realizes that he has the ability to change the timeline without repercussions, she'd seize him by the arm and demand that he take her back in time, to before she died. After all, she expresses regrets about her reckless actions, and how she always felt like it was all one big setup.
She would take Aradia's place in the Vriska revenge chain, being once more freed of her robot chassis, and from there, would trick Doc Scratch and the Handmaiden into thinking everything was still going according to their designs. Meanwhile, Alive!Aradia would be hanging out at Equius's place, borrowing his void powers to avoid notice, coordinating a new timeline that keeps the beats of the original (too much deviation causes unpredictability, and an paradox'd timeline offshoot without John's direct interference would still become doomed), but allows them greater freedom and the ability to overcome the machinations of Doc Scratch and associates.
This would also prevent Sollux from becoming so self-loathing, since it's no longer "his fault" that Aradia dies, although he winds up in that hole again after Feferi gets killed. Now that his Aradia is alive, he wouldn't feel like he might as well stay in the bubbles because his closest companions are there, so he'd make it to the end, and would ask John to prevent Feferi's death.
Eridan still dies; he's so disconnected and isolated from all his friends that his course of actions is largely unaffected even by everybody else's timeline tweaks. But before Feferi can suggest bringing him back, Karkat would butt in.
The Friendship Troll should be the one to demand that ALL of their friends be revived, especially if they had everyone except only one guy, and Karkat and Eridan are heavily implied to be moirails anyway. The course of Karkat's fixes are so comprehensive, and primarily romance-based, that the end result of this final loop is everybody not only being alive, but god-tiered, with appropriate character development.
Now, where Nepeta's Heart powers would play into all of this is that she would start to notice something going on. After all, Heart players are sensitive to their splintered selves, and (Nepeta) is probably much closer to Nepeta than regular doomed timeline offshoots. As the loops continue, and Nepeta has more and more time to talk to people, and meets her dead alternate selves, and even meets (Nepeta), she starts to awaken to her Ultimate Self - to come into possession of alternate memories.
And if the Ultimate Self is a very soul-y kind of concept, such that Heart players have a natural advantage in coming to understand it, then isn't it a natural fit that a Rogue of Heart - one who steals from Heart or steals Heart for others - would be naturally inclined to share the wisdom of her alternate selves, and even the very concept of the Ultimate Self, with her friends?
Because the Ultimate Self is actually, in my opinion, a pretty good narrative device. It turns the sadness of the dead and doomed timelines into something littersweet instead, and makes it so any weirdness regarding time travel and not really knowing your friends anymore will eventually be resolved, even if off-screen.
It's not really narratively satisfying when Davepetasprite^2 suddenly comes into being and reaches enlightenment, but imagine if instead it's a post-character development Nepeta comforting Davesprite on his relevance, or Jade on her loneliness, or John on not really knowing these new post-retcon versions of his friends? It would feel a lot better, since in this hypothetical, she would have reached that point after on-screen character development. Being able to share her true self with her friends on the meteor - by necessity, since what else are they going to be doing for three years - leads to her finally being able to fulfill her role as a Rogue of Heart.
Also, at some point during these repeated meteor trips, she dates Karkat (whether that's successful or not, I'll leave to reader interpretation - you already know where I stand), fulfilling Jaspersprite's musing that she might only be able to date Karkat after she dies.
So that's two out of thr33 of her outstanding plot hooks resolved... okay. So, I try not to make these essays into ship propaganda, but hear me out:
Hate Is Stored In The FefNep
Okay, so, remember that thing about how Feferi is actually a huge casteist hypocrite? Well, let's also note that the comic, post-Murderstuck, seems to put Nepeta and Feferi together a lot - they're a Commodore and Rear Admiral in the ghost pirate army, respectively, and they also wind up as Fefetasprite. So I think it's not entirely out of left field to say that these two were implied to have SOMETHING going on.
And that something... is a difference in political views.
I mean, let's be real, there's a reason Fefetasprite is the most explode-prone after Tavrisprite. Miss "The Hemocaste is Stupid and Shouldn't Matter" vs. Miss "I Love Being A Princess And Call Jade Hornless and Finless (Derogatory)"? Come on, tell me you don't see it.
Without getting too much into Feferi, this hypocrisy, and unwillingness to check her privilege (so glad I found an excuse to use that term unironically), are probably her greatest character flaws - ie, the things you would expect the story to address about her. Meanwhile, one of Nepeta's flaws, which she laments to Jasproseprite^2, is that she feels too shy to talk about her feelings to other people, leading to her having never expressed her views on the hemocaste to anyone but Equius.
I think that they initially think they'd be friends. Each one of them would go "oh man, this other girl is soooo cute, I wish I could talk to her more often!"
And then, once they do, they realize they fucking hate each other. Nepeta would go "X00 < you are such a hypocrite who f33ls like youre better than all of us!!!" and Feferi would go "You're suc)( an uneducated glubbing P-EASANT! 3X0" and then they'd claw each others' eyes out. It would be so funny, and if a homestuck ship isn't extremely fucking funny, then why are we even here.
But more importantly, this would further them along into resolving each others' arcs - Feferi would be forced to grapple with the greater implications of classism, and Nepeta - who is shown having a spine the most in defiance of somebody else - would grow more aggressive about being open about her feelings in defiance of Feferi. Even Equius would get roped into it in a positive way - you can just imagine him going "D --> Can I really believe my auricular sponge clots D --> Nepeta, you are finally taking interest in politi%" and be 100% on board with teaching her so Feferi won't be able to call her uneducated.
And then for flushed, I dunno! Karkat's an option, and Jade and Jake also both love the fuck out of furries, and Tavros seems nice. But yeah I'll die on the fefnep hate ship. Guys it would be so funny.
Thank you as always for reading! Let me know if there's a troll you want to hear me ramble about next.
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