82 lines
4.5 KiB
HTML
82 lines
4.5 KiB
HTML
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<title>The Homestuck Epilogues: Meat - Chapter 3</title>
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<div id='s3'></div>
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<div>
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<h1>Chapter 3</h1>
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<div class="o-story_text o_epilogue type-rg type-sm line-caption line-copy pad-x-0 pad-x-lg pad-b-lg">
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<p class="Command">> JOHN: Zap.</p>
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<p class="no-indent">You zap back into canon. It’s been so long,
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you’d forgotten what it feels like. The atmosphere smacks
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unmistakably of... How can you describe it? Relevance? Legitimacy?
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Funny how you never would have thought to put it that way until you
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left.</p>
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<p>It takes you a moment to recognize where you are, even though
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Rose’s instructions were very specific. A place bright and gaudy
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and filled with the stench of teenage ennui. It’s your old living
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room on the gold battleship, where you spent three years caught up
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in a lot of weird, furry romantic drama while learning to unlove
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everything you once held sacred. Three long, boring years. Years
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that, technically speaking, never even happened, now that you think
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of it. You have the very retcon powers that just brought you back
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here to thank for that.</p>
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<p>You barely have time to take in the sick, nostalgic feeling that
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all the globes and Tangle Buddies and avant-garde mime art evokes.
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The fridge pops open and out roll Aranea and Gamzee. Gamzee honks
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and his codpiece jiggles ominously. Aranea staggers to her feet,
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looking rather pleased with herself. Until she notices you and
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gapes in bewilderment.</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="aranea">ARANEA: What are you doing here?!</p>
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</div>
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<p class="Command">> Rose was perfectly clear about what to do
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next.</p>
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<p class="no-indent">You make a fist, and sort of flinch and look
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away when you do it. No matter how many years you’ve spent living
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on a planet with absolute gender parity, this feels wrong. Still,
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you hit Aranea pretty fucking hard, underestimating your own
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strength just as badly as you did the last time you clobbered a
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hapless Serket. She goes flying back, hits the couch, and KOs
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instantly into a pile of Smuppets. You then take her wrist in your
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hand, slide the ring off her finger, and pocket it.</p>
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<p class="Command">> Isn’t there something you’re
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forgetting?</p>
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<p class="no-indent">Gamzee stares up at you with his horrible,
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limpid eyes. There’s something serene, sinister, and sensual all at
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once about the look he’s laying on you. It sends a shiver up the
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whole length of your spine. Fuck no.</p>
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<p class="Command">> Do everyone a favor and put an end to his
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preposterous narrative relevance.</p>
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<p class="no-indent">You wisely decide that this clown will lend
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nothing valuable to the narrative whatsoever if he is allowed to
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remain outside of your childhood refrigerator. You put both hands
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on his chest and shove him into the fridge where he belongs. He
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goes easily, issuing only a pair of weak honks in protest. You slam
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the fridge shut and resolve to never think about Gamzee Makara
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again.</p>
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<p class="Command">> Zap to the next plot point.</p>
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</div>
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</body>
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