Inkstuck

Your name is Rose Lalonde and you are planning your ‘Jack-Attack’.

It’s a terrible name, but Kanaya, John, Dave and Whisker all liked it. Which means you have to put up with it.

All four of them look so smug sitting there on the couch in front of you. You hate it.

“Alright, listen up. We need to plan this attack. First of all, we need Jack’s location.”

You’ve decided your knitting-needles are an excellent substitute for a laser-pointer. A thin trail of purple yarn hangs from the end of the right one. Whisker keeps batting it and toying with it. It makes you seem slightly less cool.

Behind you are multiple detailed maps from all over the world as well as blank pieces of paper.

“Well Rose, I believe that his location is possibly the most important thing to consider before Jack-attacking him.” Kanaya says, looking over a map that’s in her lap.

“But he teleported away! How are we supposed to know where he went?” John is peering over Kanaya’s shoulder at the map.

“Knowing that coward, he’s probably left a trail of bodies in his wake.” Dave crosses his arms and looks away.

You turn your knitting needles to Dave.

“You know what he’s like the most out of all of us. Do you think you’d be able to tell where he is?”

“With what? All I know is that he will kill anyone who gets in his way.” Dave backs away a little at your needle, but sits firm against John.

You nod in agreement. “He will. But perhaps we could use that to our advantage? Kanaya darling, could you check the news? There may be something we can use to pinpoint his location.”

“Already on it honey.” Kanaya has her laptop out on her lap and is typing away furiously.

After a few minutes of furious typing noises, Kanaya turns the laptop around so that its screen faces you.

On it is a series of articles. Each shows the descriptions of stab victims—or murdered citizens.

When you look closer at the article, you start to make connections.

“It starts here, in Washington. An elderly woman was stabbed and killed on the fourth of May.”

“That’s when I read Dave out!” John bursts out, looking around wildly with a horrified expression on his face.

“Then the killing tides gradually move across the country, until they reach…a place quite near here actually, what a convenience.”

“So, what’s the plan of Jack-attack?” Dave leans back on the couch, putting his arm over the shoulder of a distressed looking John.

“Well since we now have some idea of where he lurks, we’re going to go after him.”

“Obviously. But before we figure out exactly how we’re doing this, I want you all to know this.” Dave unsheathes Caledfwlch and places it on his lap. It shines dully in the living-room light. “Jack is mine. I’m killing him. Caledfwlch hungers for his blood on its blade—I can feel it. I have been hunting him for months. I will stop his heart like he stopped my brothers’.” His voice lowers, deadly serious.

John pats Dave's hand with an expression of concern on his face.

“Right, well we got that cleared up!” You say, clapping your hands in an attempt to dispel the sudden foul atmosphere. “But we still need a plan.”

“Do you have any ideas?” Kanaya asks, still half-immersed in her laptop.

“Of course I do. I have many plans. All of which will probably work.”

“Just tell me one. I know how many plans you get at once and it will dissolve into one huge, confusing mess all at once.”

“Well first of all, two of us—preferably you and myself—will do stakeout and search around the general area we think Jack is in. Then, we gather weapons and storm that castle. Kind of an improvisation thing. I’ll work it out further as we plan more.”

Kanaya nods in agreement. “That could work. And I’d love to spend some good quality time with you.” She winks and you can’t help but blush.

Unfortunately for you, Dave has now put his mask-of-asshole back on and is raring to be an even bigger asshole than ever. “Ayyy yo John that’s slang for ‘they gonna bone’.”

“But Dave, they’re both women, they don’t bone. They make mammaries in-between the sheets.”

“Patting Cats.”

“Feeding the Pussies.”

“Becoming Breast Friends.”

“Drowning in Each Other.”

“Eating Out—In Style.”

“Eating Out—In the City”

“Eating Out—Underwater Adventures.”

“Eating Out—Date Nig—“

“—Anymore lesbian sex jokes and you will regret it.” You interject, jabbing a knitting-needle their way.

They shut up after that.

Your brilliant plan to ‘Jack-Attack’ has only just begun.

Your name is John Egbert and you think making food is actually really therapeutic.

Especially when you’re stressed about letting a deranged killer into the world. You mean, Jack stabbed an old lady.

A poor, defenceless little old lady!

It’s all your fault.

You smash the knife down hard on the tomato you’re currently chopping up to make a salad. It’s a little more forceful then you thought it would be and tomato juice splatters all over the walls.

“You are being a little aggressive with those tomatoes. What did they do to you?” A familiar and vaguely amused voice speaks up behind you.

“Tomatoes know what they did.” You say bitterly, turning to face Kanaya.

“Still no reason to splatter my kitchen with tomato juice.” Kanaya muses, looking at the tomato-dripping walls with disdain.

“S-sorry…I’m just a bit upset.” Your stutter comes back, much to your annoyance.

“I can see that. The evidence is literally written on the walls.”

You chuckle a little sheepishly and rub the back of your head.

“Anyway love, what’s bothering you?” Kanaya asks, picking out a piece of lettuce from the salad bowl.

You look down at the ground, staring down at the linoleum tiles as if they show some great secret.

“John lovely, you don’t look very well. Tell me what the matter is.” Kanaya insists, a gentle forcefulness in her voice.

“I-It’s just…A-all those people. T-they died because of m-me.” You manage to stutter out before the tears star coming.

You hear a gasp of shock and hear the swishing of long skirts. In your peripheral vision, you see the familiar red, green, white, black and gold of Kanaya’s skirt.

She kneels beside you and rubs your back as sobs rack your body.

“It’s all my f-fault. If I h-hadn’t read Dave and J-Jack out…then they wouldn’t be d-dead.”

“John honey, no. Don’t think that. Look at me.” Kanaya lifts up her fingers and raises her chin to your eye level. “You didn’t brandish the knife. You didn’t kill those people. Jack did.”

“But I let him into this world.”

“Under the directions of your mother, who, from which I can tell, is a terrible person.”

“W-well yes b-but”

“No buts. Alright? It was not your fault. Jack was the one that killed them.” Her arms wrap around you in a bone-crushing hug. You hug her back with almost no hesitation.

“Thanks Kanaya.” You say, pulling away from a very long hug. “I feel a little better now.”

“That’s fine lovely. I hate to see it when the people I care about cry.”

“….You care about me?” You whisper, shocked.

You’ve only known Kanaya for less than twenty-four hours and she already cares more about you then your biological mother. You can’t understand it. What’s so good about you?

You’re nerdy and ugly and fat. You get reminded of these facts every time you look in the mirror. You have extremely low self-esteem because of years of abuse by your mother.

No ones’ ever really liked you before you Read Dave out.

Kids are cruel, especially to kids who are different. Mother was especially cruel. After your father died, mother showed her true colours. You’d rather not think about what she did to you.

But then you Read Dave out, and he stayed when you passed out when he could’ve tracked Jack down. Behind his asshole façade, you can tell he really cares about you.

Kanaya let you into her home and life just because you said you had nowhere to sleep. The two of you could’ve easily attacked her—Dave even had a sword on him at the time. (Dave has his sword on him all the time, just like you have Inkstuck on you all the time.)

Rose accepted you into her household just like Kanaya. Sure she’s more than a little nosey, but she means well.

They’re kind of like the mother(s) and best friend you never had.

“Of course I do, and so does Rose. We care about you very much.” Kanaya smiles down at you

You figured that they somewhat liked you, but hearing the proof from Kanaya’s mouth is enough to set you off again.

But these are happy tears this time.

“Thanks Kanaya”

“Don’t thank me for caring about you.” Kanaya replies, hugging you again. “We chose to care about you.”

“Oh god, you’re crying. This is like a scene from a really bad porno. Like; ‘old lady takes pity on young crying boy who has a boner deficiency’” Dave takes this opportunity to completely ruin your heartfelt moment. He saunters through the kitchen doorway.

“Old Lady?” Kanaya questions, offended. But her outraged tone is ignored.

“Boner deficiency?” You ask, giving Dave a weird look. He shrugs, grabbing an apple from a nearby fruit-bowl and taking a bite.

“I dunno Egbert, erectile dysfunction or some shit? Don’t expect me to know. Grew up without computers and all that shit.”

“Well how do you know what porn is without computers?”

Dave gives you a look.He lifts his shades up onto his head, cocks his head to one side and stares at you with an annoyed gaze.

“Egbert. I was a knight. Yeah we served the king, but others served us, if you get my drift.”

The look on you face must be one of pure disgust, because Dave starts laughing. His face screws up a little in the cutest way. His shoulders shake and he has to clutch his stomach to stop himself shaking too much. Once he’s done, he speaks up again.

“Why the face Egbert? Shocked that I can get some and you can’t?”

Now you’re laughing uncontrollably. You must look a sight—cheeks damp from crying, eyes red and sore and your entire body is shaking with laughter.

“Hey! I’ll have you know all the ladies are clamouring after my dick. I open the windows of my house and it’s just like that scene from ‘Life of Brian’. All these ladies are standing below, ogling my fucking dick as it hangs there in all its glory.”

“How do you even know what Monty Python is?”

“No idea. References I don’t even get pop up in my head all the goddamn time. Probably Rose plugging in all that shit so I can be more like her brother or some shit.”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you spot Kanaya nodding in agreement and muttering to herself.

“Anyway, Dave. What are you in for? I thought you were helping Rose with her plans and stuff.”

“I gotta get food because Rose needs a break.”

“From you or from planning the Jack-attack?”

“Probably both.”

You chuckle a little at that and hand him two sandwiches.

“Here. These should help. I’ll make some hot chocolate or some other drink if you’d like.”

He reaches to take them and smiles at you. Your fingers touch as you hand over the sandwich plate. The two of you stand like that for a few minutes—hands touching and staring into each-other’s eyes.

His eyes are so pretty and expressive. They’re not just a startling red—they’ve got hints of subtle golds and sunset oranges and rose pinks. These colours are mixed in with what seems to be every shade of red.

They say that the eyes are the windows to the soul. If that’s true then Dave’s soul is the most beautiful soul in existence.

They’re absolutely wonderful.

He leans forward a little bit, with intentions you can’t see clearly. You can feel his breath against your cheek. You can see individual pores on his skin. The two of you are so close your lips are almost brushing.

Then, he stops and dark glass falls over his eyes again, shielding his true emotions from the world. He pulls back and takes the sandwiches.

“Umm…thanks. For the offer. I think Rose needs a caffeine fix. I’ll be fine though.” He mutters, seemingly apologising for something before hurrying off.

You turn to Kanaya, at a loss for what to do.

She smirks, looking at your blushing cheeks.

“So, Dave huh?”

“Shut up…” You blush harder, but smile anyway.

She nudge you with her elbow and begins to help you with your cooking. While the two of you work, Kanaya semi-interrogates you on your crush. You don’t mind.

You guess you have lunches to pack for the lucky two (Rose and Kanaya) who get to stake-out together.

Better make them the best sandwiches ever.

Your name is Dave Strider and planning these kinds of things are pretty boring.

Well, you’re not planning. Rose is.

But it’s still boring. Especially when Rose won’t let you draw on the whiteboard ‘Because I said so’.

So you have to sit down and listen as she drones on and on about possible Jack locations and what to do once we find him.

You took a break half an hour ago and now you’re right back into it.

Speaking of your break, it was possibly the most mortifying situation you have ever been in (and you’ve been in a lot of mortifying situations before.)

You and John brushed hands on a fucking paper plate of sandwiches like this was some shitty fucking fanfiction. You stared into each other’s eyes and it was the most cliché bullshit to have ever cliché bullshitted.

He stared at you like you were something special, like you were something beautiful.

You had to remind yourself for the millionth time that you can’t try anything.

You nearly kissed him.

You didn’t mean to—you were caught up in the shitty fanfic aura and before you knew it you were leaning forward and he was so close you could almost taste it. You nearly did taste him, but you have more self-control than that.

You couldn’t do that to him.

So you ran off and embarrassed yourself even further.

Honestly, you’re pretty pathetic.

“Dave! Are you even listening? This is very important to know if you’re the one to kill Jack.” Rose folds her arms and glares at you, Whisker batting a bit of string dangling from her knitting needle.

“Totally. I kill Jack. That’s the plan.” You nod as if you understand everything (you don’t).

Rose sighs and walks over to the couch, sitting beside you. She buries her face in her hands as one would bury a human corpse into the Earth.

“You weren’t listening to a word I said—were you?”

“Nope. I was not.” You admit, shrugging at her.

She nudges the empty coffee cup with her feet. “You were a little pre-occupied before, but ever since you came back from break, you’ve been acting jumpy and distant. May I suggest there’s trouble in paradise?”

“Trouble in Paradise? What the fuck? John and I aren’t dating.”

“I never mentioned John.” Rose says, and you can hear the smirk in her voice, the cocky mother-fucking bastard.

“Shit.” You mutter under your breath as you probably turn redder than a tomato.

Rose laughs and places a manicured hand on your knee. “I see you have feelings for him. And you’re too shy to admit them. Or perhaps you are being internally homophobic? Well Dave, let me say that being gay is perfectly okay. I myself am homosexual—and so is my wife. You may be in denial now but—“

“What the fuck Rose? It’s not my ‘internalized homophobia’ or whatever. It’s something entirely different. And I don’t like him like that!” You push yourself off the couch, ignoring her amused stare. In a huff, you walk out of the living room. Preferably, you’ll end up somewhere in the house that’s far away from meddling sort-of-sisters, cute boys and concerned meddling mother figures.

“Denial is the first step to acceptance David.” She hums after your retreating back.

You only stick the middle finger up in response.

You hear her chuckles echo behind you as you walk away.

You can’t love John. You just fucking can’t.

You were born and belong in different worlds. If you weren’t—oh if you weren’t.

You’d protect him from his mother and those asshole bullies if you were born in this world. The two of you would stay up all night texting each other. You'd go on more road trips. You'd binge watch TV shows and actually get the references you continuously spout out. You would have sleepovers and hang out and maybe kiss under the stars or somewhere equally romantic.

You’d show him the Mysterious Singing Cliffs on the Dersian shoreline and the Crystal Fortune-Telling Caves of Prospit if he was born in your world. You’d teach him magic, and he’d teach you to cook exquisite meals fit for a king. You’d go adventuring together. You'd save innocent villagers and be heroic assholes.

But you weren’t born in the same world, so you can’t do all that. You have to leave him behind to continue your shitty little adventure called life.

The very thought of leaving him makes you feel incomprehensible rage and sadness.

But you have to leave him…

 You don't belong here.