Hokay! Adi still has a full week to go before she’s done with the chrysalis portion of her metamorphosis into SUPER LAWYER, so the betareading of chapter 7 of BT won’t happen until then.
In the meantime here’s the (unbetaed) end of that big middle beach scene, and i won’t be posting the rest on tumblr, only on AO3 with the rest of chapter 7.
the whole of chapter 7 so far on the kink meme: http://homesmut.dreamwidth.org/39716.html?thread=43705636#cmt43705636 (i’m getting less and less comments over there as time goes by, wow, emo. *prods kink meme back to life* *phoenix down phoenix down*) scroll down to 104 for the newest stuff.
Karkat squirmed a little, glared up — not quite at him, as if he couldn’t really meet his eyes right now. I maintain it’s the most perverted way to heal someone ever. (John’s mouth on — ngh (pinnedstop) bruised lips why such stupid teeth ow)
Could be worse could be other body fluids OH LORD I asked you not to go there!
Auuugh. Now his brain was stuck. He whimpered, laughed nervously, scratched the back of his head. Karkat was groaning in shared shame.
But why kissing are we in a fairytale now! Space explorer wakes cryofrozen crew of lost vessel with their warm lips?? What the fuck. Humans are so what the fuck.
"No, buddy!" John protested, and tried to gather everything he’d been taught about how nanites and human anatomy worked and condense it properly. Human saliva would give you an infection if I spat it directly into a wound! It’s full of nasty stuff like bacteria and everything.
So normal cleaning-licking would make things worse? Thank you for that glorious mental picture you are never healkissing me again not even if my dick is about to fall off okay this is so gross.
Haha yeah right I bet the second your dick is in peril you’d be begging me to smooch you oh Jesus my brain why.
Okay, okay, shit. Uh. Shit. Okay, Rose was staring at them with both her eyebrows up but it wasn’t like she could read thoughts (except for how he was sure she totally could and was merely keeping it hush hush). John just needed to throw thoroughly unsexy things at it until he could unthink it. Like, uh. Science! Yes, he was going to throw all the science.
(Karkat had a hand covering his eyes and was muttering under his breath. It was mostly plans to go visit the monster no doubt lurking in the lagoon in the spirit of neighborliness and plead with it for a swift death in exchange for his snackable body, make sure to chew properly okay thank you.)
Anyway you need to counter the mouth bacteria with your own stomach acid (that stuff chomps down on almost everything) or else things get way more gross! And cutting yourself open to bleed on someone, euuugh. First it hurts and wastes nanites/body fluids and second hello viruses and even nastier stuff! Seriously for emergency nanite transfer mouth to mouth is usually better. Unless you need treatment like ten seconds ago then it might start being worth taking the infection risk to get the nanites in the wound faster but ew.
That was very (boringunsexy) scientific, good job.
All in a day’s work.
"You two make the most hilarious faces whenever you get into one of your little chats," Rose commented as she watched them, chin propped in her hand and eyebrows arched. John stuck out his tongue at her.
"I’m done," Dirk said, and dragged himself up. John bounced up as well. Walk now? But then Dirk put his hands on the small of his back and arched his spine. “Going back home, I need a better computer. Rose?"
"Aw, man." John was a bit sad to see Dirk go, and didn’t know if he wanted Rose to stay or follow him. It’d be nice to hang out. It’d be nice too, to have private time with Karkat (private time outside of walls, where they didn’t have to see the guards, where they could truly talk.) But that was too tempting to be good, the unwilling empathy, wanting to just keep bouncing thoughts to each other about everything and nothing. He was sure he could do it for hours on end, easy.
He was sure it wouldn’t be smart at all. Maybe they should go home too, or maybe he should at least hand Dirk the headsets back if he wasn’t using them for a good, non-socializing reason.
"Rhoz," Karkat said, and John said “Stay, please" because that was what Karkat wanted to say and Karkat didn’t want to mess up the words.
John had no clue on Earth why. He blinked at the alien, who was getting up as well, shoulders squared and face sober, thoughts locked up.
Rose paused, looked back at him, at John, quickly, as if to ask why. John shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know — ah. He has questions."
Dirk and Rose exchanged a look of their own. “Want me to stay?" he asked. Rose looked at Karkat.
"No, you can if you want, he’d just rather — yeah, I’m sorry you can’t talk to Rose alone, I am the official voyeur, it is me." Why Rose? he sent. Karkat sent him back a burst of frustration and colors, of all things.
"Very well. I’ll see you later, Dirk." She turned toward the two of them. “Let’s walk, if you two don’t mind. My legs are cramping from the cockpit."
John picked up the towels Dave had left behind and draped them around his neck, and they started walking off, John in the middle, Karkat wave-side (John noticed that because Karkat was thinking vague thoughts of being downhill and backed up against the sea. The beach was pretty wide; so paranoid!)
Spoken like a long-legged hopbeast. Okay, telling you now John, I didn’t want to talk about this with you in the middle because it might hurt I’m not that much of an asshole yet. He sneaked John a glance, squared his shoulders. It’s. About Jane sort of?
"Oh. Okay. He says it’s about Jane." A pause, as the notions came clear. “About PTSD. About how we handle it. I could have answered that for you, buddy."
"Do you want a rundown on treatment options?" Rose asked, eyebrows arched slightly in surprise. “That’s… Not really my domain, but I can—" Karkat shook his head.
"No, I want — hnrr. What do we — what do-you-do…"
"… With people injured… that badly?" John said, feeling his way through the notion. “Who can’t hide it."
Rose blinked. “Well — ah. Generally? Or the Skaialabs policy?"
The word ricocheted from Karkat as John’s-people; the alien nodded. “Un. Sskaia."
"Mind, there’s not much of a difference. Alright…"
She made another thinking frown, forehead briefly wrinkling, and smoothed her face into a patient, understanding expression that was more like her public speaking face than her real one.
"We consider that hiding it, while an understandable reaction, is counterproductive as it leads to reduced performance and prevents the person from being treated. The longer such issues are allowed to run unchecked, the deeper they may entrench themselves. So a lot of people don’t hide it to start with."
"But can — oh god, Karkat." John tried not to wince, and knew he hadn’t managed when Karkat flinched, glared at him, defiant. “I thought we’d made it clear last time. There is never a time when we humans say okay, this isn’t worth the trouble, we’re just gonna finish them off. I mean some assholes might say or do shit like that but the point is they’re assholes!”
Rose cleared her throat, looked straight ahead at the barely visible silhouette of the mountains over the sky, black on purplish blue. She still had her Professor Lalonde, PhD face on. “Actually. Euthanasia might be performed—" John frowned at her for confusing the issue "—but only in cases where our current understanding of medicine doesn’t permit us to save the patient’s life, and they are in the process of dying regardless of what we do, and dragging it out does nothing but prolong their suffering. But it has to be a sure thing, and they have to make the decision themselves."
Karkat was nodding slowly, and John could feel him slotting the info in his brain — one piece here, one piece there — but he wasn’t allowed to see the big picture.
"It’s the same with mental and physical injuries. Lifelong debilitating injuries are to be eased as much as possible. If necessary there will be painkillers and nurses and aides, but yes, there are humans out here who are so weakened they can’t leave their beds and haven’t for years, and we still, as a species, opt to take care of them." A little frown. “There are caretakers who fail in their job or who don’t have the means to deal with such a strain, but as a whole, that’s how it’s supposed to go."
"Huhn."
They walked a little farther in silence.
"What if I was injured," John said without thought, because it was what Karkat wanted (him) to say.
Rose paused to stare at Karkat — then John then Karkat again, eyebrows rising quizzically; it was weird because he was the voice but he wasn’t the speaker. He pointed to Karkat in silence. Rose’s brow started to furrow a little bit. “You would be treated until you are healed, of course."
"No, bad question. I’m — he’s unique." John stumbled a little, translating the rapid-fire notions Karkat was throwing through him, focused and locked down tight. John was finding himself saying things, and then feeling their emotional impact once they were already out of his mouth; it was strange. “What if you captured a hundred of us, and some were injured."
"You would all be treated until you were healed. Even if there were a thousand of you. We wouldn’t — Karkat, if you leave an untreated wound alone it might kill them, it might not heal right—"
"I know!" the alien growled out of his own mouth. “I know but don’t — I, why —"
"Why do we care," John finished for him. “Uh. It’s just — you’re sentient beings, dude. Killing in combat is, it’s one thing, but once the battle is over then why — there’s no reason…"
But how do you even make sure what happens is everyone magically nicecoddling in alien land ?? you can’t even tell me that, you don’t believe it! How do you check what everyone’s jailer/owner/taskmaster is doing?
"So your people do kill all enemy combatants then," Rose said, and stopped walking. “We weren’t entirely sure. You’ve been cagey about this."
Karkat stopped in turn to stare back at her, a storm of guilt and frustrated anger at feeling judged rising in his head, too fast for John to sort out.
No, stop, calm down — Karkat, calm down —
I’m fucking calm! — no, wait, it’s not your motherlicking fuckdamned business how calm I am in the first place! He turned to Rose, fangs bared, though his hands stayed fisted at his sides. “Yes. Kill. Kill and kill and—"
Karkat. “They don’t have the resources onboard a ship, prisoners could fuck it up, too — delicate? Balanced? Routines, uh, no space, sabotage, hard vacuum too close by — Karkat, you’re thinking too fast, slow down, man—"
I don’t want to slow down, I don’t even want you to know that! (yes I do, yes, no, fuck (you’ll never get them back I’m sorry))
A message was blinking in his glasses. From Noir; John closed it without reading, he didn’t want to think about what that asshole wanted to say, no doubt it wouldn’t help anyone’s blood pressure. He grabbed Karkat by the shoulder, turned him so they were face to face, forced away the awareness of how close Karkat had been to slashing his wrist open out of pure reflex. “If you don’t need me to calm you down then good! Calm your own tits, right now."
A long, low hiss left Karkat’s mouth, but he simmered down some.
"Mnh." Sorry.
"It’s okay." John let go.
Sometimes good workers, they keep them for slave work on conquered/Empire-now planets, Karkat offered weakly, though it was followed with (none of your guys would be there yet you’re too new no one’ll check what uses we can get out of you until your planet’s conquered.)
"Oh." Rose was scowling at him and pursing her mouth, so he told her in turn, “He says they keep some conquered population for slave jobs sometimes but we haven’t been conquered yet so they’re not checking if we could be useful yet. Heh. Cool. So there’s no way any of our men are still alive, then," he added, strangely disappointed even though he had known that was the most likely possibility from the start.
Hell, before they figured out the aliens weren’t their biomechs they’d thought the mechs might be eating them.
Same thing that almost happened to you, dissected alive until useless, discarded? John asked. All of them who survived the battles.
"Unh. Maybe. A-lot, no." Karkat looked away. His arms were crossed over his chest, high, shoulders hunched like he was cold. War leader seen pretty one maybe? This one I keep for me. You look so much like us/people.
John sputtered. “Wait — what? They can — you’re telling me some of your people keep, keep aliens, like, personally? To do—" he started to ask, stupidly — he’d heard enough to know he didn’t want to get more details.
He got them in the form of shreds of memory not suppressed fast enough, Karkat being led to a room full of (sex platforms lay down here good boy I foughtbled to havekeep you shh I’ll be nice don’t fight.)
John shuddered. Oh god so sorry so sorry no never that I was just reallyreally stupid —
If you had, well, I do owe you, Karkat replied almost fatalistically, but behind that was a burst of something odd and warm, rueful; (of course I’m safe with you.)
Oh.
Oh.
"John."
It — was perhaps a good thing that Rose had interrupted him, because he — that feeling — he didn’t know what to do with it.
"Uh — yeah, sorry." He flicked her an entirely automatic smile. (Stuffed it down.) “Some of their higher-ups are allowed to keep personal prisoners? As. Uh. Staff."
"Bedroom staff?" she asked acerbically. John winced. Like there was any way to hide that bit from her.
"Uh. Yeah. Not only, also as normal staff, if they can be trained. Or, uh — shit, as gladiators? Well, hell."
Treated better/don’t live as long. Karkat shrugged despondently, looked away. They make their owners money so outside of matches they’d be nicer. Not on my ship anyway too small shitty but the more inner fleet maybe.
Squinty-eyed thoughtful, Rose started them walking again, toward a bunch of dark rocks emerging from the sand. John and Karkat followed on automatic, John’s head bowed and Karkat kicking at the sand with each step.
You lookfeel so surprised, Karkat added tentatively a second later, and looked away.
"Uh yeah, buddy, I — we don’t do that stuff. I guess we — used to? And some cultures, it took longer to stop in some places, and then some people pretended to stop and wriggled through legal loopholes and called it different things but it was really pretty identical, and I…"
A pause to breathe.
"It’s been like centuries since that kind of thing was stopped, though." You thought that’s what I was doing with you.
Karkat growled, raked a hand through his hair, glowered at him. “No!" —yes, at first yes, I, kind of yes but you were, I just — I’m not insulting you damn it it’s just different! You and your smugbarfing higher judgemorals—
"Dude, slavery! Hell yes I’m judging!" Argh, now Karkat’s mental wall felt like a porcupine, nothing coming through but spikes. “It’s not like I mean to, okay, sorry, we’re just taught that way." It’s bad so bad, bad everywhere, wars and racism and stuff —
"Remind me to ask for permission to teach you two more about the Greco-Roman types of slavery," Rose mused. “Not that they were objectively good either, but. Regardless, we humans have a lot of higher morals that we do not actually manage on a day to day basis. Don’t let John shame you. He’s a bit too much of a hopeful idealist, and he doesn’t know as much history as he should for a comprehensive view."
Karkat made a noise like “hah" mixed in with a horse’s snort, and hissed something under his breath. John pouted.
No but seriously just in case you still thought that, you don’t belong to me no sentient being is allowed to own someone okay!! You’re a prisoner you’re not …
(War loot,) Karkat instinctively completed for him. John choked on nothing. Okay now he was thinking of pirates. No shut up (why am I on a boat in a skirt??) I know you didn’t think of me like that! I just — I just thought you’d. Well. Finders keepers? And you captured me and back home once the Empire was done with me you’d have first claim? And your people would never recognize me as free/citizen anyway so being nice (pretending I’m free/lying like I’m your equal) was the best you could do maybe?
"War loot," John repeated for Rose’s benefit, a mite dazedly.
“Awrrghst!”
Whoops. “Okay, no, don’t tear our your hair, there’ll be a hole and your horns will be cold — ow, you didn’t have to kick me either!"
Karkat threw his hands in the air in frustration and kicked sand at his legs, glaring. Did everything else I said just zap through your skull without encountering any brain matter at all???
Looks like!
"Ffffsst." (good jolly hornfuck do I hate you sometimes.) If you can’t own people/your first claim isn’t worth jack shit then why were you even allowed to keep me??
Huh, okay, yeah, that was a good question.
"I… think because otherwise you would have gone crazy or something? I mean, you were kind of catatonic and they couldn’t wake you up and obviously if you stayed with them you’d never get any better and likely you’d get worse and die, and then everyone would have lost everything they could learn about you. Apart from, like, stuff about your skeleton. So there wasn’t a lot to lose by letting me kidnap you?"
John frowned some more, lips pursed doubtfully. Either the adults had hidden even more from him than he already assumed they routinely did, or there really hadn’t been much pressure to return Karkat to the labs once he was awake and emotionally stable again.
"Rose, why did they let us keep Karkat? I mean apart from the technical reasons like political head games and probably General Harley blackmailing people and things like that. Well, I’m assuming. I don’t know."
Rose had her hand over her face and was groaning quietly. “Yes, John, this is indeed the conversation I wanted to have with someone whose security clearance was revoked on an unsecured beach surrounded by government officials. However did you guess."
"Aha, so there is another reason!" John said, as Karkat’s attention perked up like a hunting dog finding game.
Good. Not perfect generous altruistic reasons then. Good.
Good why?
Karkat nudged him out and tucked his thoughts back behind his mind shield. “Rhoz? I. I want. Rgh."
"Why don’t you ask me the word?" John grumbled.
"No, a lot fuck you."
Rose chuckled. “That’s not polite."
Karkat grunted at her. “I know."
"Do you know how to be polite, though? With us it’s alright, as we aren’t very formal at the best of times, but with others it wouldn’t be."
"Mn. No. I want ask that. Poleeth? Po-li-te. That, later yes, I…"
"I will need to know," John said for him; it was about the only thought surfacing clearly enough.
Good alien best dictionary.
Haha, fuck you. “And no kidding you really do."
"Fuck your shit face — no Zhann, stop. No." I’m warning you —
John started waggling his eyebrows, but Rose beat him to the punch. “Mmmm, kinky."
"Oh my god, Rose," John groaned. “No. Bad. Stop."
You were right she is evil. Why did she give you/us that mental picture (now I know what this shit word means for sure wasn’t sure guess that’s good??)
"See it as gentle corrective punishment for continuing to talk over my head no matter how many times I ask you to keep me in the loop." Her eyes narrowed somewhat playfully (but still evilly) at John. “My apologies for making you collateral damage, Khrkat."
"No, I’m bad with Zhann. Bad a lot." He gave her a little apologetic bow, lips pressed down quite firmly to keep from smiling back.
"You would say ‘I’m sorry’ there. Just ‘sorry’ in more casual situations."
"Sorrh-ey. Sorrree. Hm. No that’s bad."
John shrugged. “Still has an accent, but it’s understandable. Don’t fret, buddy."
Guess what I’m thinking about your generous advice. (Is this beach endless or what god my hip sockets hurt so much sand.)
Noo, I bet it’s rude and crude and I’m way too delicate and refined to hear pffff. "You want to go home?"
"No, I — Rhoz. I, nrgh."
"There’s still something you need to know."
"Yes, I." He paused there in the sand, frowning deep, brain a whirl of thoughts. If I do this — but I don’t know that word — maybe from that angle…
I can translate, in case you forgot!
No, I don’t want your answer, I want hers. You’ll think your answer even if you’re trying not to color it with your thoughts I don’t want that.
"Dzeneral Harley… Doc-tor Lalonde. Hm." That (quietgentlesoft) man with the brown/dark skin who was he?
"Doctor King? Who was working on your mech?"
"Yes Doctor Kin-gh. Unh." He made a vague, upward gesture with his hand. “Noir no, why — who?"
Rose was watching him attentively. John blinked and tried not to feel miserably confused.
Karkat turned to the wave-flattened, damp sand, gestured at them sharply to follow. A dot — “Sstrider." A line aiming up, toward… “Harlee." A dot. “Noir." A line, toward nothing. “Who? Not Dzeneral."
Rose’s eyebrows arched up as she bent over the schema to stare more closely. “Ahh. You want the political landscape."
“Yes."
She bit her lip briefly, thoughtful. “People involved in the war?"
"Infol—vol-ved in me. Alien." (Prisoners of war.) "Me and me and — hrm."
"Other prisoners?"
Karkat nodded; Rose stared at him for another very long handful of seconds before she decided herself with a sharp nod.
"Well. There’s Skaialabs — that’s us. We’re independent. I don’t think we will be allowed to interfere quite so much with others of your people, should we acquire any; we’re supposed to concentrate on planetary defense and scientific and technologic advancement, and you’re a bit of a special case. We can justify keeping you around for study; we couldn’t justify acting as mere jailers."
Karkat frowned, feeling a bit uneasy. John’s people had proved themselves safe, and he — slammed the door in John’s nose before he could get to the end of that thought. Ow. John rubbed his nose, even though the sting was purely imagined.
"There’s the United Nations of Earth, or UNE — that’s a joint military organization. Each of the militaries comprising it often come with their own agenda, of course."
"What a clusterfuck," John told her from Karkat.
"Pretty much. And then there would be the International Committee for Ethics Oversight, or ICEO."
(Oh yes that’s it.)
John didn’t need to translate for Rose; the way Karkat’s spine stiffened and his irises flicked huge for a brief instant were telling enough.
(yes yes yes tell me more everything I need to know more) “What, that?"
"Hm. It’s composed of civilians, and — yes?"
"Ci-vi-lians." Karkat shook his head in slow bewilderment. He’d grabbed the definition from John as it went through Not-military. Not-military, what then. (this is gorgeous/can’t ever work long-term sorry but.) “No sorry bad. Talk."
"The military, while extremely—" she rolled her eyes faintly —“important, is often so preoccupied with efficiency that it forgets to keep unnecessary cruelty in check."
She doesn’t think it is/should be important? Karkat asked.
Nah. It is important (also self-important.) It’s also a huge pain in the ass.
Rose gave a philosophical shrug. “In the spirit of fairness, it’s by nature insular and prepared for violence, so some unsavory habits and ways of thinking will seep in. It’s also fairly secretive, of course, which is necessary, but which makes it hard to keep some behaviors in check, as we don’t see them happening. So… There are committees working to make sure that they still respect the laws and charts of ethics — what’s good, what’s bad, what’s never allowed, etcetera."
Karkat made an interested grunt, head tilted to spur her onwards.
"What never allowed?" he parroted, checking lightning-quick with John’s brain that the sounds matched the meaning he wanted and that he wasn’t repeating a chunk of grammar-mangled meaninglessness.
Just a little mangled!
Dictionaries don’t editorialize, Karkat retorted with a little mental prod.
Rose sighed. “Disturbingly little some days."
She stepped over a rock, onto a second. The trail of rocks emerging from the sand didn’t quite reach the waves yet, they could have gone around… John shrugged, and hopped up after her, sure-footed even in the dark from clambering over that rock since he was eight years old. Karkat followed with an ease John had seen in the other pilots and maybe Bro and pretty much no one else.
Rose reached the top and found herself a hollow to put her butt in, patted the rock beside her meaningfully.
It’s a good place here we played so much all the time. King of the castle! (King John pushing Dave off in the waves at high tide splash oh no Roxy got behind me welp salty.) Little hide-hollows and butt-crannies everywhere too big now heh.
(that’s almost cute) don’t tell me those things, John (too attached already how much worse do you want to bet it gets.)
"From the army side," Rose continued once she was comfortable and Karkat had found himself a spur of rock a little lower to cautiously perch on, “there would be a lot of pressure to… Well. Torture for the sake of torture is expressly forbidden, but there’d be pressure for invasive medical research and aggressive interrogation, and — let’s say, if we capture another of your people and they prove more hostile and less manageable than you’ve been it’d be hard to bargain for them as well."
John wasn’t sure if she saw Karkat flinch and his eyes flick away in shame, but he sure felt it.
Shut up John nothing that wasn’t true (so manageable/docile/obedient what a good domesticated pilotwarrior I’ve been.)
The way Rose was looking at him, it didn’t matter if she’d seen it, because she knew it’d been there anyway. Her frank, direct stare didn’t falter any as she continued. “At the same time our medicine is advanced enough that we don’t need to cut a hundred of you open to understand how you work. It would just be easier, for some people who are very invested in continuing to see the lot of you as nothing more than space monsters to eradicate."
John sighed, stretched out his legs in a crack of the rock. Talk about a fun beach excursion. “He understands."
"I want to be clear — if we capture more of you, experimentation will be happening. You’re right; you’re safe because you’re unique."
What about once he’s not unique anymore, John thought, and then no, fuck them, before he could smash it down. He hated the conversation, wanted nothing more than to wander down the beach and push Karkat in the surf and have a sand-throwing battle and forget it.
He wanted to pretend the situation didn’t exist, because he had that luxury. Karkat didn’t.
I’d say I’m sorry for making you sit here and translate but it’d be a lie I’m not sorry. I need you here translating it’s inconvenient for you for me it’s my life. You can deal with shitty things just fine once you decide to stand your ground anyway you’re not that weak so just do it.
John bowed his head and pretended fiercely he hadn’t caught the undertow of Karkat’s words; (I need you knowing what I might have to fight (I need to know you’d fight for me.)) It would be too embarrassing for the both of them.
"But not as much?" John asked, and then paused to make sense of the notions Karkat was sending. He wasn’t sure either, it made things complicated. “I mean, if that ethics group thing supervises. Not as much torture?"
"I assume they would do their best to keep it to strictly necessary levels, yes. But political games and the urgency of our situation means there can be no absolute guarantee."
"Yes," Karkat replied, quiet and a little subdued. “I know, that." We’re not that different.
"So. Have I given you all the information you needed?"
Welp. That’s her you’re about to pay me back tenfold face. It was nice knowing you Karkat!
Karkat shoved John in the back a little; John’s heel slipped and he pitched forward, only stopping as his tennis shoe landed in a shallow, algae-laden puddle at the bottom of the gap.
"Shit. Zhann?" Didn’t want to do that hell now it looks like I’m trying not to answer (and so clumsily too.)
John pulled his foot back up and held it in the air as it dripped, festooned in mushy green strands. A little animal prickled its way up his ankle; his hand shot forward to capture it.
"Here, have a crab." He went to put it down Karkat’s shirt, but Karkat grabbed his wrist; the animal plopped free of John’s loose, non-crushing hold and ended up on a bare gray knee.
"Zhann stop you shit dumb face. Rsst." He sighed, head bowed to stare at the tiny crab wandering warily on his thigh.
(oh it has dad pincers.)
"Rhoz… Hn. Good. Yes." Ethics versus military. Hah.
John repeated it for Rose, who waved it off. “Of course the situation is much more complicated than that."
"Politics often are," John translated absently, watching Karkat watch his clawtip be caught in a thumbnail-sized crab’s grip. He was strangely delicate with the little beast.
Rose leaned in to watch, hands on her lap, politely interested. “So which side will you be playing for which end, then?"
The night felt so still around them suddenly, it was like the sea breeze paused for a moment, like even the trees and Noir’s men amongst them went statue-still. Karkat and Rose stared straight at each other, wordless, intense, and John was left staring at them in turn.
Rose — mindgame-happy as she was, John knew all too well that she had no real problem with blunt force trauma as a problem-solving method either, whenever her patience ran out.
All he could read from Karkat was a fierce resolve not to bend.
"Guys—"
Karkat gave a quiet snort, and his lips quirked up in a crooked, vaguely cynical smirk.
—
JH: sir? hope i’m not disturbing you. do you have some free time for a meeting? like, face to face.
JH: karkat wants to talk.
HS: Most frabjous!
HS: Right on schedule. :B
JH: uh. schedule?
HS: Good job my boy.
— Hass Harley [HS] signed off! —
JH: i suddenly understand twice as much nothing.