Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Your name is FINN JEREMIAH SPADES, but most people just call you FINN.

Pfft.

What a dumb name, am I right?

Don't nod your head in agreement, you judgemental, condescending, thoughtless bastard! Of course it's not a dumb name!

Finn is a universally known GREAT fucking name. It's a name that just rolls off the tongue with effortless ease and little-to-no cognitive thought. It's a name befitting both males, females and even the classes' pet rabbit that everyone had in grade school.

Now, the other parts of your name...well...let's not talk about those right now, okay? They make you feel a little sensitive at times and you don't currently have the luxury to pretend that you don't shed a little tear when a poker joke gets thrown around. Okay, yeah. That's one hundred percent irrelevant right now. In fact, it's so irrelevant that it's absolutely not something that will be discussed further in detail at some point in the near-and-likely future. 

Obviously.

Namesakes aside though, let's just pick up where we left off. Now...where were you again? Oh, right! You were introducing yourself and then got lost on a tangent, spiraling down the rabbit hole of a bootleg Wonderland that was primarily created from insulting one's pride and dignity.

Alright, alright, alright. Let's get back to the real shit.

Your name is FINN and you absolutely hate the month April with a passion. After all, having this month even exist is what put you into this predicament in the first place. Well? Isn’t it? Yeah, exactly. We’ll get to those details later on. Better keep up now, it's awfully easy to get lost in translation.

Anyways, in case the memo didn’t get across...today is Monday, APRIL 13th and it's an unbearably hot day. You have the AC cranked to the max but it’s not doing much to cool down your apartment. Eh, but what would one expect whilst living in the infamously tropical and rural AEOLIAN ISLANDS?

You heave out a dramatic sigh as you look around your studio.

The walls are painted a deep RUSSET shade, a running theme of dark orangish bronze and dusty red coating nearly every surface in sight. A truly beautiful color, your favorite color in fact. Well, other than the just-right shade of pleasant, picturesque PEACH that is. A single large stain-glass window is left ajar, letting in a sea-salt breeze from the south-eastern side of your room. Several small SKELETAL WINDCHIMES that were crafted from deceased critters, quietly jingle with each billow of wind in an oddly comforting manner. To the left of the stained-glass window and boney windchimes is a single desk with a large antique looking computer. A sturdy cushioned chair completes the set-up, tucked neatly underneath the desk.   

On the walls there are several posters and paintings of different VULPINES since FOXES were so fucking cool and majestic. They have that luminous fur that can come in so many different hues and colors, not to mention their intellectual prowess. Ahh, and the adorable little noises they make- yeah you get the picture. You’re a little obsessed with vixens, but who could really blame you?

Aside from the multitude of vulpine creations in your room, you have other INTERESTS. Like for instance…several decent sized stacks of TAROT CARDS that line your shelves. You consider yourself to be somewhat of a CERTIFIED CARTOMANCER but you don’t want to seem too arrogant. Hmm, well…you do tend to overcharge the reading sessions that you offer to the public, so maybe being arrogant wasn’t the issue. Hey! Don’t give me that disgusted scowl. It’s not like anyone would know if they were being scammed. And if they did know... well ...then they sorta deserved it, right? Duh. 

Believe it or not, there are quite a few customers that put their unshakable faith into the cartomancy talents of a seventeen year old SELF-PROCLAIMED TAROVERSA. Oh right, just in case you don't know what that odd word entails, it's basically a fancy title for someone that exclusively reads tarot and all that mumbo-jumbo mystical bullshit.

Hey, what did I say about that look?

It’s not like taroversing is something that should be frowned upon. Some people are just that adamant in wanting to get their future read by a deck of fancy all-knowing-somewhat-mystical-most-likely-a-hoax-of-some-kind-but-maybe-not cards. Even if they're some schumky tourists or elderly neighbors, don’t judge them for their hobbies.

Ah, speaking of cards...there are roughly about six different decks that you can see from your bedside alone. Yeah, shocker right? That’s not even counting the ones that are hidden around the rest of the apartment in every possible nook and cranny.

Arriff!

Your desktop chimes out with a familiar noise, shaking you from your two-dimensional thoughts.

 How odd. It looks like someone’s PESTERING you online. 

>>What will you do?

You climb out of bed carefully, making sure that there are no hidden colorful cards waiting to slice your tender skin from underneath your covers. 

Ouch!

Nevermind. 

Looks like one tarot card had caught the underside of your forearm, leaving a long scratch on the poor unsuspecting limb. You scowl as you nimbly pick up the card from your bedsheets and angrily flick it towards a nearby bookshelf. It lands perfectly where it was meant to, firmly sandwiched in between two large textbooks titled: A FIELD GUIDE TO ASTROLOGY and CARTOMANCY FOR IDIOTS. 

Arriff!

The desktops chirps out another fox-vocalized bark.

You let out an annoyed sigh as you debate whether or not to rise from the comforts of your bed. You ultimately come to the conclusion that you'll have to get out of bed at some point today anyways and begrudgingly begin to make your descent off your oh-so-comfy bed. The desk is placed in the right-hand corner of your room about five to ten feet away… ugh …so freakin’ far.

Shoving aside a few tarot decks you let out another dramatic sigh after finally reaching your destination. With a soft plop your butt is now fitted snugly into your computer chair and all is right in the world. Huh, wait a sec. Was that a pair of FUZZY DICE laying on your desk? The same pair of stupid fuzzy dice that you had received as a gag gift from your AUNTIE SPADES?

The horror! The shame! The audacity!

No, no, no! Nothing was right in the world anymore. Everything was ruined .

She knew how much you hated those things and yet she still put them in your room. Ugh, honestly! That woman was really something else.

The only LUCK you had with 'real' cards was metaphysical luck. AUNTIE SPADES found it hilarious that you never inherited her GAMBLING GENETICS, but you really couldn’t give two fucks what that old hag thought. Those dice were going and that was final! You let out an angry huff as you launch the offending item somewhere into the corners of your room before directing your attention back to much more important matters.

Like your prehistoric PC.

Your computer hums as you power it on, green eyes staring at a loading screen in slight interest as it slowly reboots.

Who would be pestering you right now at 4:00 AM on a Monday morning? 

You were honestly too tired to guess right now, so while you waited for your screen to finish loading, you decided to mess around with the closest deck of cards atop your slightly cluttered desk. Nimble, long fingers shuffle through the CARDS OF FATE with near-motionless grace and ease.

THE MAGICIAN now lies in front of you, meeting your gaze head-on. 

A robe-wearing vulpine humanoid creature is painted across the card emitting an air of mystery to it. The fox-like creature is holding a long white candle in one clawed hand above its head while the other furry hand is hanging loosely by its side. A table resembling an altar can be seen in the left corner, covered in mystifying objects that rest atop its wooden surface. A chalice, a sword, a staff and a star-printed circular object of some kind can be seen from the altar-like table that is seated in its appropriate position, towards the bottom left corner of the card. Above the robed vulpine humanoid is an eye-catching infinity symbol.

This particular card symbolizes a multitude of things. It can symbolize energy, potential, manifestation of one’s desires, alchemy, a need for change and even the altering of universes and metaphysical realms. 

Huh. 

Interestingly enough, that’s the THIRD time you’ve drawn that particular card from one of your many handmade decks.

You absentmindedly wonder if the world is trying to tell you something before you turn your attention back to the now fully loaded computer screen. The background is currently set to a beautiful autumn field with vixens hidden in golden leaves and russet themed flora. A true masterpiece of art. You admire the beautiful background for a moment or two before begrudgingly hovering your mouse over a familiar app.

Arriff!

You have three new messages awaiting you when you finally click open your PESTERCHUM app.

Chapter Text

ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering vicariousVixen [VV]

EB: hey finn!:B

EB: fiiiinnnn

EB: did you get the beta installed yet?

VV: Oh shit! Sorry John, I got distracted with one of my decks again and forgot to reply.

VV: My sincerest apologies, comrade.

VV: Also, sadly no update on the game as of yet...buuuuut...I heard that there's a much more important matter at hand! 

VV: Happy birthday my beguiling young warlock!//^w^//

EB: ew, gross. 

EB: don’t call me a warlock. i’m nothing like those metaphysical scammers!

EB: jeez

EB: and thank you for the birthday wishes finn!:B 

VV: Haa~  

VV: Ya know what’s weird? There hasn’t been a single ungodly noise in the kitchen for the last two hours...

VV: Maybe Auntie went on another unexpected gambling trip. That would actually explain a lot.

VV: Heck. At least NOW I can serenade Mothman without Auntie clanging around in the kitchen, throwing off my groove and all that shit.

VV: Can you imagine it Eggs?!

EB: uhh, no?

VV: A romantic rendezvous during forbidden hours of the night. The two of us partaking in the most pure, vile, carnal and base instincts.

EB: oh man!

VV: Gives me shivers just thinking about it.

EB: haha i don’t even have words for half of the things you say 

EB: but ok, be careful! 

EB: and good luck?

ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering vicariousVixen [VV]

Ah, well that was just great. Fantastic really! 

Poor Eggs usually gets unreasonably spooked whenever you bring up your totally reasonable crush on MOTHMAN. He thought that you were trying to prank him when you first mentioned your slight obsession (crush) on the disaster harbinger but after a while he seemed to have caught on to your antics with mild concern and dismay.

Yes, you’ve absolutely one hundred percent tried to summon the mythical moth deity in the past, and no! You are not ashamed. But you were kind of disappointed when not a single winged figure appeared after you went through the trouble of buying those really expensive candles that another one of your online friends, Rose, had recommended. 

Oh well.

Eh. Whatever. Reading cards was good enough for you when messing around with the metaphysical realm and mysterious shit of similar nature. You weren’t too eager to delve any further than taroversing if you were being completely honest.

>>What were you doing again?

Oh, right!

Today was one of your online friends, John Egbert’s, birthday. You’re really glad you weren’t a total tool and forgot because that wouldn’t be very friend-like. Luckily for you (and everyone else), you are a very GOOD FRIEND.

You let out a little chuckle as you recall the package that you sent your nerdy friend. You knew exactly what kind of expression he’d make when he opened it. Oh man, he was definitely going to love it! The package should be arriving at his doorstep any minute now, you just know it.

Arriff!

Another ping from your desktop snaps you out of your musings as you raise a brow inquisitively. 

Huh.

Looks like another one of your friends had just hopped online.

Hmm…hmm…hmm…

Well! No point in loafing around, might as well check in on him while you’re still sitting at your desk. Not like you’ve really got that much else to do.

You grin as you open up the app once again, this time hovering over a very familiar scarlet chumhandle.

This would be an excellent way to pass the time!

Chapter Text

vicariousVixen [VV] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG]

VV: Hey chucklefuck!//^w^//

VV: Don’t drink that, it’s a hazard to your sanity.

TG: dude

TG: man it still creeps me out when you chat me up with my bros text color

TG: but i get it over it when you start talking 

TG: since you're literally nothing like the dude

VV: Haa~ just fuckin with ya. Your AJ is fine.

VV: Probably.

VV: Also stop badgering me about that! It’s not my fault your bro can’t compete with my big dick energy. He needs to pick a different color cuz I’m not budging on this.

VV: Anyways, has John been pestering you about the beta too?

TG: are you suggesting someone put piss in my apple juice at the factory

TG: cuz egderp said the same thing and let me tell you

TG: my ambrosia goodness is perfectly intact 

TG: crystalline clean

TG: so clean

TG: the fucking cleanest

TG: sparkling like a goddamn marble statue having the sun hit it just right at that sweet spot of a three o clock shadow

TG: pristine fucking clean dude

VV: Haa~ yeah you got me there cool kid . I’m sure you only drink from the fountain of youth and all that ironic hipster shit slang that y’all Striders use.

VV: Oh yeah! Did ya install the beta yet? Bc honestly I’m not too sure if downloading it on my stone-age PC is the best idea.

VV: The thing’s hecking ancient.

VV: Like fuckin’ primordial bro.

VV: I’m talking like...older than your shades here.

VV: No wait…more like…hmm…

VV: Stone-age regression of homosapiens sort of ancient, ya feel? 

TG: woah

TG: hold up 

TG: did you just diss the shades bro

TG: that’s a strider’s legacy that you just ever so casually dunked on

TG: someone like you couldn’t even begin to comprehend the sheer ironic pleasures and sick fires that behooved these shades

TG: ouch 

TG: gotta say dude, feeling a little wounded here

TG: and you have the audacity to call us friends smh

VV: Oh heck, did I hurt your delicate little ego? Awwww...that’s fuckin’ adorable Strider!//^w^//

TG: hold on a minute

VV: Gasp!

VV: But obviously a mere mortal such as I couldn’t compare to someone of your sheer godliness. I am but a humble peasant wistfully gazing up at your petticoat tails, hoping that one day I might be able to catch more than a sliver of a glimpse at your pious beauty!

TG: damn right, now you’re talkin’

VV: Pfft. You know I’m just messin with ya right? <3

VV: Ok, well this has been enlightening but I must bid you adieu. Got a hot date with Mothman to set up in the kitchen while Auntie’s out so I’ll catch ya on the flip side. Well, unless I accidently launch myself into another dimension when I’m trying to set up a hot date with the harbinger of disaster! But I’m gonna press F for doubt on that one ahahaha

VV: Ciao, my favorite shades!//^w^//

TG: what

vicariousVixen [VV] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG]

Well that was pretty damn fun!

Even if you didn't get your question answered it was still nice talking to your pals. You feel much better now that you’ve thoroughly roped the two boys into the never-ending cycle of cynical-and-somewhat-mystifying-mildly-confusing-yet-somewhat-entertaining humor that you’re infamous for. Most of your friends online already know about your odd sense of humor, but because they’re GOOD FRIENDS they don’t say anything about it.

Most of the time. 

DAVE STRIDER, the red themed text user that you were pestering a few minutes ago actually has a sense of humor that often rivals your own. Or should you call it irony? Who knows with that kid. He’s got a unique persona, that’s for sure. And he’s one of the few people that can appreciate your sardonic humor. Most of the time. Sometimes he can be a bit slow on the uptake, but you can’t really blame him for it. Sometimes it's difficult for even yourself to fully comprehend the level of intellectual prowess you’ve been bestowed.

Haa~ you’re freakin’ hilarious. Hah . Knee-slapper right there.

Right, going back to the topic of Dave.

He’s a pretty cool guy even if he probably hasn’t taken off those weird dusty old aviators JOHN EGBERT sent him for his thirteenth birthday. Yeah, you were almost a hundred percent certain about it, as was John himself. Strider had started going off on a tangent on the topic saying something about them being a ‘staple point of irony’ or maybe it was more something along the lines of ‘shades were a babe magnet.’

Hah! Who freakin’ knows with that guy.

You thought that it was simultaneously hilarious and just a tad bit concerning.

Honestly, that freakin’ guy. 

Then again he is the same chum that holds a dangerous amount of respect and admiration for his older brother’s puppet monstrosities. Yeah, the same older brother that unfortunately shares YOUR chat color. The dude totally riffed off you! Who cares if he's older and ‘acquired’ it first? Freakin’ lame! Honestly you were kinda surprised that he didn't change it after you created your account, but you chalked it up to him doing it for shits and giggles. Or as Dave would say, 'irony.' Must be in the Strider gene pool or something for him and his brother to constantly toe the line between coolness factor and cringeworthy dismissal. Either way though, you suppose it pretty much fits the picture of whatever ‘cool kid’ vibe that he’s got going on.

You fondly recall the package you sent him for his birthday last year, chuckling lightly at the mental image you conjure. Yeah, he might have a totally suave and picturesque ‘cool kid’ persona down to a T, but he absolutely lost his Coolness Factor when the package you sent in the mail for him arrived. Dude was like a lovestruck pre-teen girl getting asked to Homecoming. Fuckin’ hilarious shit. You know this because you were privy to his borderline meltdown via pesterchum literal seconds after his gift arrived. Man, you were really glad that you saved those messages into a blackmail folder because otherwise no one would have believed you.

Ah, those were some good times.

Rrrrit! Rrrrit! Rrrrit!

You blink out of reminiscing and look back at your computer. That was a completely different sound bite then the one that you had set for receiving pesters from your friends.

Huh, what was that sound configured for again?

You frown, trying to remember what the cheerful vulpine chittering signified. 

Hmm...maybe you could find out by scrolling through the toolbar at the bottom of your screen? If only you could remember where the damn notification box was placed. A single peach colored exclamation mark blinked from the furthest application on your toolbar as you swivel your mouse to click on it. 

Oh sweet! It looks like the beta that John sent you finally finished downloading!

Wait a sec…beta…game download…fox chittering…

Fuck! Of course now is when you remember. Your ADHD was really kicking your ass lately, wasn’t it? Damn.

You had set the voice configuration to a cheerful fox’s chitter for when any of your downloads were done processing. If the computerized vixen had a reason to be chittering about something, then a successful download seemed like it would fit the bill rather nicely. Those things took forever to install and run on your prehistoric PC. That's likely because it had first belonged to Auntie though and the lady was basically older then the dinosaurs so…but Auntie had given it to you as a house-warming gift when the two of you had first started out your lives in the U.K. She had gotten herself an expensive looking new model from one of her gambling buddies at a ‘reasonable downrate’ or whatever, so you got stuck with the hand-me-downs. But hey, you weren’t gonna complain too much…after all…at least you had a computer, even if it was still kinda stuck in the Stone Age. But at least you were able to change the voice configurations pretty quickly. And all of them were set to different fox noises which was fuckin’ awesome as hell. Plus you had also set the computer up with a bunch of other cool shit too.

Oh right, you were fondly recalling the sound configurations you had installed before you got lost on another tangent. Well duh, of course the sound you heard earlier was the download notification noise! Man, sometimes you wonder how you are ever able to get anything done with your accursed short attention span but there’s no sense in worrying about it now.

>>What will you do?

Well you might as well open up the game download and start running it, right? Hmm…but you should probably let your friends know beforehand so they can give you some pointers. They’ve likely already gotten their sides up and running so having a guide might not be a bad idea. 

You proceed to click open Pesterchum, seeing if your friends are still online. 

Huh, well would ya look at that. 

Both Eggs and Shades are idle. Damn. Tough crowd, huh? Might as well pop up a chat with each of the boys and let them know that you’re ready to join in on the fun of playing a universally poorly-rated game.

Hey, don’t look at me, that’s just what the Game Bros review entailed.

You let out an indignant snort at the mere thought of sniveling critics, fingers flying across the keyboard as your lips twisted into a sly grin.

Haa~ looks like today might not be as boring as you thought it would be.

Chapter Text

Additional Information:

General Concept Idea of Finn's Design 

• Unruly thick ginger hair at around shoulder length in most parts (fringe/grunge)
• Dark green eyes usually ringed with shadows and darkened rims (eyebags)
• Light dusting of freckles
• Pale skin
• Usually dresses in a 'gypsy bohemian style'  
• Roughly around 5'3" usually on the smaller side
• Roughly around 105 lbs. with an athletic and limber frame
• Loves foxes and vulpines
• She has a bit of an issue with impulse control and bursts of anger but is usually pretty calm and collected
• Has trouble focusing on one thing at a time, ADD and everything under the ADHD umbrella
• ...And more to come later...

Chapter Text

>>Be the other kid.

You don’t want to be someone else, this is your narrative, dammit! You’re not giving up control without a fuckin’ fight. 

>>Don’t be difficult and just give the reins over. It’s like, two minutes. C’mon. 

You frown, not liking this idea.

Who’s coming up with this bullshit right now? Certainly not you.

You’re not sure if you like this line of thinking…but maybe it’ll be fine if you just do whatever this omniscient voice is telling you to for the time being. Just maybe. Ahh, fuckin’ hell. As much as you hate the idea…you’re a fairly generous girl.

You let out a loud and dramatic sigh as you decide to try to be the bigger person for once in your life and begrudgingly hand over the reins.

…But only for now…

This better not be something you’ll regret…or else.

--

Oh man, that was actually a little bit difficult. Sweatdropping just a smidge at the tenacity of young Finn. What a scary girl.

Who would have thought that Finn would end up being so passive aggressive within the first couple of minutes of narrative? Yeesh. She’s a tough one. Well, it was needed for plot progression, so it should be fine if she doesn't have the mic for a chapter. But still! That ginger kid was kinda strange, huh? Something about her just feels a little off.

Then again…most of the other brats are pretty similar in that aspect…

Agghh. Whatever.

All these hooligans are tied up with each other in some sort of way with all their overlapping strings of fate and all that jazz.

But...either way...better add her onto the chart just in case. Always better to proceed with caution.

Especially when these hooligan brats are involved. 

Chapter Text

>> Be the other kid. 

Your name is DAVE. Last names aren’t important but if you insist on knowing…well, shucks. Your full name is DAVE ELIZABETH STRIDER. No one knows your middle name aside from one of your best buds John Egbert so whoever’s reading this must be feeling pretty special right now, huh?

Yeah, it’s whatever though.

It’s not like it’s that big of a deal or anything so try not to burst a vein and have an aneurysm all over the place. That would be a fucking mess to deal with and no one would be around to help with the cleanup. Maybe look into some life alert or whatever it is that those wrinkly ass elderly citizens get all up in. 

Yeah.

Anyways.

It’s a ridiculously hot APRIL day and you’ve already got your BEDROOM WINDOW open to let some air in.

Man, hopefully it’ll start to cool the place off but you’re not holding your breath. It’s TEXAS after all. HOUSTON, TEXAS. Sure would be fucking rad to live literally anywhere else but it’s not like you really have any other options available right now so you’ll just have to suffer through the sweltering heat.

Maybe you’ll crank up the FAN in the corner of your room. Who knows how much further it’ll actually be able to crank up before shitting out. Not like you really care either way though, just as long as there’s a steady breeze instead of this stouffer’s oven knockoff bullshit you’re currently baking in. 

Arguably the only thing more cranked than the cooling systems right now would be your FLY BEATS. 

Which brings us to your variety of INTERESTS. A cool dude like you has a plethora of them. 

You have a penchant for spinning out UNBELIEVABLY ILL JAMS with your TURNTABLES AND MIXING GEAR. Bro had tossed them to you after he picked up a hobby of collecting suspiciously plump-rumped puppets and doing whatever other weird shit. 

You like to rave about BANDS NO ONE'S EVER HEARD OF BUT YOU. Because for some reason no one shares your impeccable music tastes, which you find difficult to understand. How could anyone diss on Juice Frog’s sick drip? Wack. 

Anyways, back to the shit that you like.

You tend to collect WEIRD DEAD THINGS PRESERVED IN VARIOUS WAYS because really, how else were you supposed to keep ‘em presentable? In your AJ BOTTLES? Goddamn. Really know how to make a guy feel self-conscious doncha? 

You are also an AMATEUR PHOTOGRAPHER and operate your own MAKESHIFT DARKROOM. It’s in your closet because you didn’t have any other space to set up your sweet skills in.

Shit, did you remember to close the door?

Oh well, you’ll just worry about it later. Hopefully nothing gets knocked over in there though.

Last time you left the closet door ajar shit got wild. A tidal wave of SMUPPETS blew through like Hurricane Katrina, just whammied on ya, no bars held.

Crazy shit right there dude. Crazy shit.

You maintain a number of IRONICALLY HUMOROUS BLOGS, WEBSITES, AND SOCIAL NETWORKING PROFILES. You could mention Sweet Bro & Hella Jeff but you’ll save that for another time. Another thing to take note of is that you absolutely won't hesitate to drop some PHAT RHYMES on a mofo and REPRESENT when the inspiration to do so strikes. 

Speaking of phat rhymes and blogs, you should probably check in with your buds online.

>>What will you do?    

Well obviously you’re going to fling your window open and take a swan dive off the building.

Duh.

You nod at a hidden camera placed somewhere towards the left side of your bedroom confidently assuring the audience that everything would be just fine and no plush rumps would be injured in the process.

With a fluid movement only a Strider could possess, you are now standing in front of your computer table.

It’s a mess. 

Half-eaten bags of Doritos are strewn across the table, their tantalizing aroma wafting towards your nose. A few bottles of AJ are cluttered together near your desktop. All of them are empty. If you narrow your eyes and focus really hard you can pretend that the eerily familiar looking colorful rumps taking up residence near your mini fridge don’t exist.  

Cha-ching! 

Oh, word. Just when you were about to grab a katana off your wall and take care of the unwanted infiltrators, it looks like someone decided to send you a message. It was probably Egbert. That nerd had a knack for pestering you at your darkest moments. Weird as it was, it wasn’t entirely unwelcoming…not that you would ever admit that…but still.

You open up the PESTERCHUM app, expecting to see a notification pop up in your inbox.

Nothing’s there.

Huh, weird.

You could have sworn you had heard the chime of an incoming message but maybe you misheard it.

Oh well, while you’re here you might as well check on the dork.

Chapter Text

turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB]

TG: hey so what sort of insane loot did you rake in today

EB: i got a little monsters poster, it's so awesome. i'm going to watch it again today, the applejuice scene was so funny.

TG: oh hell that is such a coincidence i just found an unopened container of apple juice in my closet it is like fucking christmas up in here

EB: ok thats fine, but i just have one question and then a word of caution. have you ever seen a movie called little monsters starring howie mandel and fred savage?

TG: but

TG: the seal on the bottle is unbroken

TG: are you suggesting someone put piss in my apple juice at the factory

EB: all im saying is don't you think monster howie mandel has the power to do something as simple as reseal a bottle?

EB: try using your brain numbnuts.

TG: why did the fat kid or whoever drank it know what piss tasted like

TG: i mean his reaction was nigh instantaneous

EB: it was the 15th day in a row howie mandel peed in his juice.

TG: ok i can accept that

TG: monster B-list celebrity douchebags are cunning and persistent pranksters

TG: also fred savage has a really punchable face

TG: but who cares about this lets stop talking about it

TG: did you get the beta yet

EB: no.

EB: did you?

TG: man i got two copies already

TG: but i dont care im not going to play it or anything the game sounds boring

TG: did you see how it got slammed in game bro????

EB: game bro is a joke and we both know it.

TG: yeah

TG: why dont you go check your mail maybe its there now

EB: alright.

ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG]

--

Looks like John is going AFK to check for the game that everyone’s been raving about.

‘Sburb’ or some lame ass shit like that.

You honestly don’t care, but if it’ll pass the time and get Egbert off your back maybe you’ll look into it. 

Maybe.

Cha-ching! 

Okay, now you know you heard that one. Clear as the metallic grating tell-tale sign of your Bro’s blades. Who was chatting you up at this time of day? Hopefully not Rose. She’s always trying to psychoanalyze everything and you really don’t need that shit in your life right now. 

Cha-ching! 

Alright, alright, alright. Let’s see what this is all about.

Damn. Whoever’s pestering you sure is impatient aren’t they? 

Clicking open your inbox again you are greeted to the surprising sight of glowing ORANGE text.

Chapter Text

vicariousVixen [VV] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG]

VV: Hey chucklefuck!//^w^//

VV: Don’t drink that, it’s a hazard to your sanity.

TG: dude

TG: man it still creeps me out when you chat me up with my bros text color

TG: but i get it over it when you start talking 

TG: since you're literally nothing like the dude

VV: Haa~ just fuckin with ya. Your AJ is fine.

VV: Probably.

VV: Also stop badgering me about that! It’s not my fault your bro can’t compete with my big dick energy. He needs to pick a different color cuz I’m not budging on this.

VV: Anyways, has John been pestering you about the beta too?

TG: are you suggesting someone put piss in my apple juice at the factory

TG: cuz egderp said the same thing and let me tell you

TG: my ambrosia goodness is perfectly intact 

TG: crystalline clean

TG: so clean

TG: the fucking cleanest

TG: sparkling like a goddamn marble statue having the sun hit it just right at that sweet spot of a three o clock shadow

TG: pristine fucking clean dude

VV: Haa~ yeah you got me there cool kid . I’m sure you only drink from the fountain of youth and all that ironic hipster shit slang that y’all Striders use.

VV: Oh yeah! Did ya install the beta yet? Bc honestly I’m not too sure if downloading it on my stone-age PC is the best idea.

VV: The thing’s hecking ancient.

VV: Like fuckin’ primordial bro.

VV: I’m talking like...older than your shades here.

VV: No wait…more like…hmm…

VV: Stone-age regression of homosapiens sort of ancient, ya feel? 

TG: woah

TG: hold up 

TG: did you just diss the shades bro

TG: that’s a strider’s legacy that you just ever so casually dunked on

TG: someone like you couldn’t even begin to comprehend the sheer ironic pleasures and sick fires that behooved these shades

TG: ouch 

TG: gotta say dude, feeling a little wounded here

TG: and you have the audacity to call us friends smh

VV: Oh heck, did I hurt your delicate little ego? Awwww...that’s fuckin’ adorable Strider!//^w^//

TG: hold on a minute

VV: Gasp!

VV: But obviously a mere mortal such as I couldn’t compare to someone of your sheer godliness. I am but a humble peasant wistfully gazing up at your petticoat tails, hoping that one day I might be able to catch more than a sliver of a glimpse at your pious beauty!

TG: damn right, now you’re talkin’

VV: Pfft. You know I’m just messin with ya right? <3

VV: Ok, well this has been enlightening but I must bid you adieu. Got a hot date with Mothman to set up in the kitchen while Auntie’s out so I’ll catch ya on the flip side. Well, unless I accidently launch myself into another dimension when I’m trying to set up a hot date with the harbinger of disaster! But I’m gonna press F for doubt on that one ahahaha

VV: Ciao, my favorite shades!//^w^//

TG: what

vicariousVixen [VV] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG]

--

After seeing the soft orange text drift away you let out a dignified scoff.

This freakin’ dude. Finn was definitely a-one-of-a-kind type of guy. 

You’ve been friends with the sporadic individual for quite some time now…well ever since he had been passed judgment on at least. Turns out that Egderp had found the kid online when he was off doing some nerd shit that nerds do. He had brought the poor lad into your circle of friendship like a sacrificial lamb. Oh man, you were honestly kinda taken by surprise when that happened. The dude didn’t even know what he was getting himself into when he had first started chatting your group up and you had to admit that maybe your online comrades weren’t the most sane people to be buddy-buddy with.

Don’t get it wrong now, you love the shit outta ‘em...but they’re all a little...unique. Not that you’re one to talk, but that’s a different case.

You got a pass because you’re fuckin’ cool. So yeah, you don’t need anyone harping you on that shit.

Surprisingly though, Finn wasn’t thrown off by the amount of weird, wacky shit that your little online circle was infamous for. Maybe because he had his own vices (not that you could judge the kid at the time) but hey, like-minded people tend to flock together, so maybe it was nature calling. Ya know like White Fang and shit. 

First there was freaky-wizard-shit Rose with her borderline Criminal Minds skillset. Then narcoleptic, space-case bubbly and furry-inclined Jade. Self-assured, cool kid with your incomparable Strider style and freshness, you (Dave in case you didn’t get the memo.) And of course the Nic Cage fanboy, ghost-loving and poster child of geeks John.

You had thought that this ‘Finn’ kid would run for the hills after he had finally been integrated into the group, but he didn’t. It seemed like all your guys’s shenanigans and personas did nothing to deter the kid from continuing to talk to y’all and slowly but surely Finn wormed his way into all your digital hearts. 

Nowadays you could confidently say that Finn was one of your best bros -aside from John of course. And honestly? You felt pretty good about that. You and the kid had hit it off nigh instantaneously. And yeah you call him 'kid' even though the two of you are the same age, but he just had this innocence to him that reminded you of a pure-hearted little kiddo. Egbert did too but Finn had a different sort of air to him. You don't really know why...he just kinda...did. Not that Finn was innocent - he most certainly was not- he just had this feeling of kid-like curiosity to 'em, ya know? Naivety and shit.

Either way, Finn was a pretty cool dude.

Even if the dude had this crazy obsession with anything of the vulpine nature or salivated at the mouth if there was any talk of something bearing resemblance to a two-dimensional handheld cardboard object. You were also pretty sure the dude was actually into cryptids but you weren’t 100% sold on the idea yet. It could be for ironic purposes...right? Maybe? The dude said ‘hot date with Mothman’ like three different times. 

You get the distinctive feeling that it may not be for ironic purposes.

It seemed a little too similar to the puppet situation with your Bro and you didn’t really wanna go there right now or anytime in the foreseeable future. 

Whatever.

You can’t really judge a homie for his preferences and if he wants to put his dick inside the harbinger of destruction then that’s fucking awesome for him. You’ll be cheering him on from the sidelines while the world falls to ruin, making sure to throw him a juice pack and a towel after the dirty deed. Because that’s what bros do.

Obviously. 

...Speaking of bros...

You shouldn’t be surprised about anything that your chum does, but for Finn to diss on your shades? Your shades bro! The kid probably didn’t even bat an eyelash. You bet so many boonbucks that he didn't even bother mulling over his careless words.

The audacity .

That right there is what a true friend looks like.

Ah, man. Honestly.

What a guy. What a champ.  

You briefly ponder for a moment what Finn was up to now, probably something shady knowing the dude. That would make sense with his whole hodge-podge persona goin' on, not that you minded it or anything. To each their own and all that jazz.

You brush the thought away.

That’s not important right now. 

What is important is that you’re feeling hella thirsty right now and ready to move on from monologuing like some anime protagonist.

Take these reins back Narrator, there’s no need for me to be holding ‘em. 

Strider Out.  

--

Chapter Text

>>Be the other kid.

You’re getting a little irritated with this nagging, but whatever. Might as well roll with it. 

It’s Finn time.  

The spotlight shines down on your five foot three frame, zeroing in on bright red curls and forest green eyes. There you are, sprawled across the cushioned desk chair in all your saccharine teenage glory. Basking in the sunlight streaming in from the window like an overgrown cat. Yep, that’s you.

A pile of colorful cards spread in a half-flush rest atop your desk, pale freckled hands skimming the rectangular objects in a thoughtful manner. 

Alright, that’s probably enough descriptive monologuing. You may be a teenage girl but that doesn’t mean you have to wax poetry like a lovesick fool. Dramatic sentimentality isn't exactly at the top of your list of importance.

Moving on.  

You’ve just gotten done pestering two of your buds online and you were feeling pretty proud of yourself. It was a tricky talent, being able to get people riled up without actually riling them up. A talent that you were oh-so-lucky to possess. It actually came in handy more than you’d think but we can touch back up on that topic later. 

John and Dave, or as you had dubbed them rather affectionately ‘Eggs’ and 'Shades’ were rather amusing to chat with. Well, aside from rapid firing nerd facts and questionable innuendos that the two throw your way, that is. 

But hey, who were you to judge? 

You had VICES of your own, so it would be a bit hypocritical to pass judgment on others, now wouldn't it? 

Exactly.   

Rose and Jade were pretty fun to converse with too but most of the time it was best to speak to the girls in small increments. 

Jade usually forgot to respond to any of your messages since she had the attention span of a jack russell terrier, but she was a sweet girl at heart. Even if she pinged you a month after you had asked her if she had any plans that afternoon, cheerfully responding that she was going to give her dog another bath.

Time efficiency may not be the space-fanatic’s strongest suit, but you weren’t one to hash on the matter.

Rose on the other hand was surprisingly good about responding to your pesters. 

A little too good actually. 

She was an interesting chick, following up a joke of yours with something that usually would result in why humor was so commonly used to mask attachment issues and deep-seated insecurities.

Let’s just say that you’ve come to the realization that your friend may need to lay off on binge-watching Criminal Minds and Psyche. 

>>Check the game’s status instead of being a filthy procrastinator.

Woah, no need to be so rude .

…You were gonna get there...eventually...

Yeah, alright so maybe you were a bit of a procrastinator, what of it? You still got everything done at the end of the day so lay off on the attitude, will ya?

Now if only that damn game would hurry up and run its diagnostics so you could finally play with your friends. It’ll definitely be a new experience for you, seeing as the only kids your age were all a bunch of hooligans that graffitied the STREETS OF SICILY like a bunch of filthy degenerates. 

Of course you are nothing like those heathens, so it didn’t particularly bother you.

Still...remembering the public disfacing of so many local monuments and once-nice-looking back-alley walls did sorta grate your nerves. 

Just a little bit.

Like, c'mon guys...it’s Sicily. SICILY! A vast and wide land that was known for its beauty in impressionable architecture, tasty food and renaissance arts. It just kinda defeats the purpose of being labeled as ‘top-ten-places-to-travel-to-for-hopeless-romantics’ when you can’t even walk a block down the streets without a free gallery viewing of shittily drawn dicks and uncreative insults.  

Ugh, seriously. 

Now don’t get the wrong idea here. Art comes in many different forms and graffiti is technically an art form...but...is it? Is it really?

No, no- just listen for a minute.

Art in its most basic structure is meant to be viewed by the public eye. Admired by society. Praised and critiqued by connoisseurs. And yet all those fuckers could think of when inspiration struck was inverted dicks and some wack-ass-shit that looked like it was written in prehistoric wing-dings? 

Pathetic.  

As someone who was a practitioner of sorts in The Arts™ ( Hey! Crafting, painting and viewing cards counts! They’re all handmade with careful precision and love, so don’t go getting any holier-than-thou attitude over there. I saw that! ) you’d be damned if anyone told you that the shit those cretins painted the town with belonged underneath the same umbrella as Picasso. 

No way. Not in any of the seven circles of Hell. 

Pfft. Modern art? Yeah right!

As if those douchecanoes even went to art school, much less college. You highly doubted that they even passed high school. Graduating with an actual diploma in their grubby little shit-stained hands?

Not likely.

Those childish taunts and crude gang tags deserving of a pedestal beside Vincent Van Gough?

Absolutely not!  

Disgrace wouldn’t even begin to touch the tip of the iceberg on that subject. Just picturing the scenario in your head made you gnash your teeth in disgust. Oh man, you were starting to actually get a little heated. 

It’s probably a good idea to avoid the subject for now. 

After all, you tend to be rather VOLATILE when something gets you going, and it never tends to end well. Auntie said it was a common symptom for someone with ‘IED’ but you most certainly did not have ‘anger issues’ or ‘impulsivity’ so the point was invalid. 

Obviously. 

You were kind, passive, peaceful... most of the time.

Oi! Can you name one teen that never had their moments that’s not from the eighteen hundreds? 

Mhmm. Exactly.

Now most of the time you were pretty lax, but you never claimed to be a saint. C’mon, be rational here! It’s not like you were raised Catholic. 

So yeah, even you had your ‘moments.’

Sometimes there was this irrational inferno that just kinda...slipped out...at times. Like when you rage-quit and absolutely demolished your beloved Tamagotchi (and maybe there was a minor cast and a few fractured bones) but that’s not really all that important in the grand scheme of things.

Like, c'mon! Be reasonable here. Everyone has their moments, okay?!

Argh!

This is the kind of shit that induces migraines and borderline passive aggressiveness.

Look.

The point trying to be proven here is that you were starting to feel that familiar wrathful kindling in your gut when you were reminiscing about the shit-tier art that young hoodlums throw around town like motherfucking Oprah does to her bees- and it was probably best for everyone to just...

Drop.

The.

Fucking.

Subject.

...

Anyways!

Let’s go check up on Sburb’s status upload to ease the RAGE that was starting to burn inside your veins like a righteous and unforgiving inferno. 

Who knows, maybe the game might actually be ready to run when you check again! It really didn’t make sense for it to take so long to queue up but you weren’t a computer expert, so what did you know? But either way, you should probably check in with your friends first before running the beta. They knew more about that sort of stuff than you did after all.

You briefly wonder what Eggs and Shades are up to, glancing over at their idle icons with an arching brow of curiosity. Hmm. Maybe you should pester them again.

Eggs was probably goofing off with his Dad bashing on baked goods or something equally lame. 

Shades was a little more difficult to guess, but if you had to take a stab in the dark you’d say he’s likely ‘dropping fires’ or whatever lingo he used for mixing tapes.

You remember the first time he had sent over a mp3 file, opening the link and fully expecting something with shitty audio and a couple ‘ironic’ one-lines. Instead you were greeted with something completely different. The guy wasn’t actually that bad? In fact he was almost sorta... good?

Ahaha, yeah. You hadn’t expected it either, but hey you weren’t complaining! Your buddy had talent and that was pretty cool when you think about it.

Hmm...speaking of cool…

Oh right! You really need to convince Dave to join the rest of the gang in playing the game. It just wouldn’t be the same without your favorite pair of shades around.

You’re sure that if you and John teamed up in bullyi -err- pestering the youngest Strider, he would cave eventually.

Hey...wait a sec...that was actually a fuckin' brilliant plan!

How come you hadn’t thought of that sooner?!

You grin impishly, emerald eyes shining with mischievous intent as you sink further into your computer chair. 

It was time to scheme.

--

Chapter Text

>>Be the other kid.

Well if you’re insisting, then alright!

You were a bit preoccupied with BAKED GOODS and awful DAD JOKES along with the occasional FLYING PIPE- but why not get this introduction out of the way while you have a moment of reprieve?

Yes, that’s an excellent idea!

Your name is JOHN. That’s short for JOHN CHARLOTTE EGBERT, and no! It’s not a girl’s name! Don’t laugh- that's a mean thing to do when someone is introducing themselves. Have a little human decency won’t you?

Jeez.

Anyways, aside from running for your life from that accursed CROCKER CONCOCTION- you were having a pretty good day so far. Definitely not the worst, but there could always be something to spice things up. Like PRANKS or a good ‘ol NICK CAGE film in the background but beggars can’t be choosers. 

It’s Monday, APRIL 13TH which means that today is your birthday, hence the baked goods war happening downstairs.

You’d like to say that this was surprising- but sadly it’s not.

Your DAD is notorious for his devout admiration for BETTY CROCKER products. The same products that you absolutely, vehemently, positively despised with a passion. BAKED GOODS are the bane of your existence and you can’t be convinced otherwise, end of discussion. 

>>Stop rambling and get on with it already.

Alright, alright, alright. Jeez! So impatient. 

As you were saying before being interrupted, your name is JOHN EGBERT and today is your SIXTEENTH birthday. You're pretty excited in all honesty! You had already gotten quite a few packages in the mail but you weren’t able to go out and grab them yet due to the absolute WAR ZONE going on in the hallway and KITCHEN.

Man, your DAD could be a little scary sometimes, huh?

You had been watching the LAWN with your TRUSTY BINOCULARS since two days ago in hopes of spotting a certain GAME PACKAGE that you wanted to play with your chums. But alas! No rectangular disk, floppy or otherwise, had been delivered yet. Huh, but it seems that in lieu of said game there was a suspiciously large ORANGE BOX with what appeared to be CARTOON FOXES drawn all over it and had been crammed haphazardly inside of your already overflowing MAILBOX.

You had your bets on who that could be from.

If it was orange and had messily scribbled foxes on it, then the sender was pretty freakin’ obvious. 

Finn was one of your best online buds and he had already messaged you earlier this morning about the BETA download for SBURB along with some well-timed birthday wishes. Oh man, that guy was so freakin’ great! Last year he had gotten you a super cool Nic Cage tee-shirt that you may or may not religiously wear at any given moment of the day.

Hey, Nic Cage is a heck of a guy, alright! A legendary cinematic hero even.

Ah, man if you started thinking about The Cage then you weren’t gonna be able to even step a single foot downstairs to grab Finn’s latest birthday gift.

>>Subject change, hurry along now young man!

Quick! Think of what Dave got you last year, what was it again? Oh right! A lawn flamingo pinata with actual grass shavings inside! The irony was astounding even if you didn’t really understand how it worked.

Man, your friends were really out there, but that’s alright. As long as they’re happy then you’re happy!

Du-Du-Du!

Oh man, that was coming from your PC. Better go check it out real quick and maybe afterwards you could go retrieve all the birthday gifts that were flooding your mailbox.

You grin as you swivel your chair, grabbing a MONOCLE and a BEST PRACTICAL JOKES book from your seat and setting them on the desk before getting comfortable.

Looks like you got another message from Finn and oh- a couple more unread messages from your online friends. A flurry of RAINBOW TEXT boxes quickly begin to fill your monitor as you bite into your lower lip in excitement before clicking your mouse over the colorful notifications.

What you saw was something you couldn’t even describe in words.

Oh man, oh man, oh man!

Honestly, it was a really great freakin' way to start off the morning of your birthday.

Now if only you could get your buddies to agree to play that game with you once you got it through the mail... hmm ...what would the Ultimate PRANK MASTER do if he was in your shoes?

>>Scheme young lad, scheme to your heart's content!

Snickers and little chuckles of DEVIOUS laughter rang out as you adjusted your GLASSES across your nose, mind already racing with a cacophony of bad ideas.

Oho, you knew exactly what to do.

Chapter Text

>>Be the other scheming kid.

Ahh, what luck~

You already had a whole pyramid scheme running, but that wasn’t the scheme that you needed to focus your energy on right now, was it?

No, no, no.

You’re Finn Spades, so of course you had schemes for days. Years even! But the scheme that would bring the most enjoyment in this exact moment would be the BECKON & TAUNT OPERATION.

You had most of the kinks ironed out- now all that was left was the execution of your ingenious plan.

Oh man, you were so freakin’ excited to sit back and watch the CHAOS unfold that you couldn't help but grin in sadistic glee, steepling your hands together above your keyboard. 

Criiick! Crack . Criiick!  

The sound of your knuckles cracking echoed across your studio, a mischievous snicker following shortly after. 

It was time for the SCHEME MASTER to get to work.

Chapter Text

vicariousVixen [VV] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG]

VV: Guess what!!!

TG: dude

TG: there is a tsunami of plush rumps covering up my dopeass keyboard

TG: not to mention my nectar goodness absconded to the groves of eden where there's richer vegetation than our cruel god’s green earth could ever offer

TG: and you want me to waste my valuable time playing a guessing game

TG: smh 

TG: and here i thought you actually valued our bromance dude, i cant believe this

TG: im gonna have to get a wholeass reality tv series aired for this treacherous betrayal in order to cope

VV: Hahahaha

VV: You’re on thin fuckin’ ice Strider :3

TG: ha im sure you wish you could ice me but lets face the facts finnster

TG: i just got too many sick beats and hot irons droppin’ like grandads on life alert for you to nary blemish a single ivory hair atop my head

TG: you cant even captchalogue that shit

VV: sigh

TG: reap what you sow finny, this is where your antagonistic tomfoolery gets you

VV: bigger sigh

TG: anyways whats up

VV: My guy, what even goes on inside of that head of yours? No wait. I sense I’ve made an error. 

VV: I don’t wanna know what goes on up in there, it would probably scar my delicate psyche.

VV: But I was gonna tell ya that I got Sburb up and running finally before ya sidetracked me. Isn’t that fuckin’ awesome?! We can finally all play together now <3

TG: dude

TG: that games fucking lame, you and egderp are hyping it up like y’all the prom power couple standing on stage doin’ a fancy ass speech to sway the young and susceptible crowd

VV: gasp

VV: You take that back right meow!

VV: *now

TG: bro

TG: was that a cat pun

VV: MOVING ON

VV: Are ya gonna play or nah? Just so ya know, I happen to have quite a few mp3_audio clips that desperately want to reach the surface of the interweb...

TG: dude you still have those?

TG: not cool

TG: you know bro would beat my ass for that lameass ponzi shit

VV: Time’s a wastin’ Strider =^w^= Tick tock, tick tock~

TG: sigh

TG: and here i thought Rose was the one i had to look out for

TG: smh

TG: fine you win this time you conniving lil’ shit but no promises it'll even run seeing the less-than-stellar review that GB left

VV: Awww I love you too~ ya better start downloadin’ asap Shades!

TG: just know ill remember this blatant blackmail attempt finny-boy

TG: i got a lot of time on my hands when im not catching ladies and droppin' sick beats 

VV: Ofc! I’ll be back on in a lil’ bit while ya do your thing and brood for a bit before ultimately forgiving me =^w^=

TG: what

VV: Ciao for now<3

vicariousVixen [VV] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG]

Haha, wow that was a lot simpler than you thought it would be!

What luck that a certain shade wearing blonde happened to be such a pushover huh? What luck indeed!

A sly grin twists its way across your lips as you let out an AMUSED CHUCKLE, fingers flying across your keyboard in a black and orange flurry of movement- far too quick for the normal human eye to perceive. 

Now, who was next on the docket?

…Hmmm…

Eggs should be easy enough as long as you promise him a prank or two in the near future…Jade was a bit of a hit-and-a-miss with her rather ill-timed replies…and Rose…well…it might be best to not touch that subject. The gothic blonde was pretty fuckin’ scary even to you, and that was saying something.

An involuntary shiver shot up your spine as you quickly darted a glance skywards, paranoia striking at a most inopportune time. 

Yeah, best not try to use any reverse psychology tactics or blackmail on Rose Lalonde, lest one wishes to strike a deal with the devil. Might as well keep steady with the original plan and go full-steam ahead and knock out the mentally susceptible ones first and deal with the intellectual geniuses last.

Your lips twitch once more, a knowing smirk on your face as your mouse hovers above a familiar blue box. 

The sound of cracking knuckles and joints echoes across your room as you press down on the mouse once more, snickering in anticipation and wicked glee.