ART/FIC: Untitled (Team Equius<3Karkat)
Jul. 23rd, 2012 12:34 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cravatsandpsychopaths posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
hso2012_r3s3Summary: Karkat contemplates the difficulties of leadership.
Characters: Equius Zahhak, Karkat Vantas, (mentions of) Nepeta Leijon
Ships: Equius<3Karkat
Category One:
Tags Present: none
Tags Not Used: No Cat.1 tags used.
Category Two:
Tags Present: none
Tags Not Used: No Cat.2 tags used.
Category Three (Optional):
Tags Present: none
(Two images stitched together. The image on the left-hand side is of Karkat, saturated in blue, with the caption "It's so cold." The image on the right-hand side is of Equius, saturated in red, with the caption "It's freezing cold.")
It’s a sad moment, you think, when of all people it’s someone originally from the other team (who adamantly refused to associate with you, who pulled away one of the only reliable players you could have had) who actually listens to you.
You were made to be a leader. You’ve known this since you were barely out of grub-state, but then the harsh reality of troll society caught up with you and fast, really fast, you learned to hide everything about you. The colour of your blood. The location of your hive. How much you actually care about others (a leader is useless without people to lead, okay, and if part of you wonders if this tendency to care in this bloodthirsty society is a default that came with your blood, you silence it the way you silence everything else: by being pretty fucking loud). And you wanted to hate them, the bluebloods, the sea dwellers, but in the end you couldn’t, because they didn’t choose to be born that way either and if you did, it wouldn’t make you any better than those who’d cull you just for your blood, and pride is all you have left. You refuse to fall to that level.
You can still get pissed at them, though. You get pissed at your idiot moirail for being always high (and then you get even worse when he’s not). You get pissed at Eridan for being such a fucking entitled little shit when it comes to people and for going on a murderous rampage at the worst moment possible. And you get pissed at Equius for groveling instead of taking initiatives, but you don’t have the heart to lash out at him because you know exactly how he feels (except not).
And really isn’t it the biggest fucking irony that this guy who’s bluest of the blue ends up looking up to you like you’re some kind of saviour of troll multiverse? This guy who was supposed to be your opponent, and who wanted to enter first but never led anyone because he was too busy smooching robots and then everything went to hell. You kind of feel sorry for him, having to deal with his team, and it reminds you that trolls aren’t really meant to work together, that you’re all way too good at blowing shit up and not good enough at protecting stuff, and as you wait on your miserable rock for certain death you think that it’s a miracle you even made it this far.
But you see. You see, because most of the time it looks like you’re the only one bothering to look, to actually pay attention to people, because you’ve studied them, friends and characters, from the shittiest movies to the best, until you learned how they work. And you see how much leadership makes him uncomfortable, not just in a sweaty way but genuinely, makes him tired and nervous and more likely to make stupid mistakes. You see how he struggles to do his duty, to uphold the caste system, to hate the lowbloods like you tried to hate the highbloods, how he tries so hard just in case he can please someone, anyone.
You think he’d make a much better bodyguard, with someone to protect and someone to take orders from, a job with a goal and a worth, and something for which his strength can actually be something other than a liability. And as much as you like Nepeta and think she’s as good a moirail for him as someone like him could actually hope to get, she doesn’t need his protection, and she doesn’t understand authority.
And you felt his gratefulness when your two fucked up teams joined in a retarded Mobius trip and you just took control, felt it enough for it to get on your nerves and for you to dismiss it with a wave of your metaphorical hand. You felt it, and felt the way it cemented over time and took root, and it’d almost make you pity the guy, because honestly when your choice of someone to order you around is Karkat Vantas, then your life is really, really sad.
You dismiss it, and try not to think about the way it feels like the two of you did a weird double reacharound, the leader born a freak that gets to direct someone and actually be trusted with decisions, and the soldier pushed into the limelight who can finally breathe with someone to direct his strength for him.
You want to tell him to calm down and take a break, to be less dumb than your stupid past self was and stop hurting himself for being who he is, but you’ve got a clown on the loose and an entire asteroid of trolls to keep safe and sane (or as sane as they can be), and you don’t have time to play therapist.
When you’ve finally gotten this situation under control you can finally sit his stupid ass down, tell him you’ll take over from now on and maybe teach him to like himself a little.
You’re bad at it yourself. But maybe at least you’ll be able to help someone else.
Characters: Equius Zahhak, Karkat Vantas, (mentions of) Nepeta Leijon
Ships: Equius<3Karkat
Category One:
Tags Present: none
Tags Not Used: No Cat.1 tags used.
Category Two:
Tags Present: none
Tags Not Used: No Cat.2 tags used.
Category Three (Optional):
Tags Present: none
(Two images stitched together. The image on the left-hand side is of Karkat, saturated in blue, with the caption "It's so cold." The image on the right-hand side is of Equius, saturated in red, with the caption "It's freezing cold.")
It’s a sad moment, you think, when of all people it’s someone originally from the other team (who adamantly refused to associate with you, who pulled away one of the only reliable players you could have had) who actually listens to you.
You were made to be a leader. You’ve known this since you were barely out of grub-state, but then the harsh reality of troll society caught up with you and fast, really fast, you learned to hide everything about you. The colour of your blood. The location of your hive. How much you actually care about others (a leader is useless without people to lead, okay, and if part of you wonders if this tendency to care in this bloodthirsty society is a default that came with your blood, you silence it the way you silence everything else: by being pretty fucking loud). And you wanted to hate them, the bluebloods, the sea dwellers, but in the end you couldn’t, because they didn’t choose to be born that way either and if you did, it wouldn’t make you any better than those who’d cull you just for your blood, and pride is all you have left. You refuse to fall to that level.
You can still get pissed at them, though. You get pissed at your idiot moirail for being always high (and then you get even worse when he’s not). You get pissed at Eridan for being such a fucking entitled little shit when it comes to people and for going on a murderous rampage at the worst moment possible. And you get pissed at Equius for groveling instead of taking initiatives, but you don’t have the heart to lash out at him because you know exactly how he feels (except not).
And really isn’t it the biggest fucking irony that this guy who’s bluest of the blue ends up looking up to you like you’re some kind of saviour of troll multiverse? This guy who was supposed to be your opponent, and who wanted to enter first but never led anyone because he was too busy smooching robots and then everything went to hell. You kind of feel sorry for him, having to deal with his team, and it reminds you that trolls aren’t really meant to work together, that you’re all way too good at blowing shit up and not good enough at protecting stuff, and as you wait on your miserable rock for certain death you think that it’s a miracle you even made it this far.
But you see. You see, because most of the time it looks like you’re the only one bothering to look, to actually pay attention to people, because you’ve studied them, friends and characters, from the shittiest movies to the best, until you learned how they work. And you see how much leadership makes him uncomfortable, not just in a sweaty way but genuinely, makes him tired and nervous and more likely to make stupid mistakes. You see how he struggles to do his duty, to uphold the caste system, to hate the lowbloods like you tried to hate the highbloods, how he tries so hard just in case he can please someone, anyone.
You think he’d make a much better bodyguard, with someone to protect and someone to take orders from, a job with a goal and a worth, and something for which his strength can actually be something other than a liability. And as much as you like Nepeta and think she’s as good a moirail for him as someone like him could actually hope to get, she doesn’t need his protection, and she doesn’t understand authority.
And you felt his gratefulness when your two fucked up teams joined in a retarded Mobius trip and you just took control, felt it enough for it to get on your nerves and for you to dismiss it with a wave of your metaphorical hand. You felt it, and felt the way it cemented over time and took root, and it’d almost make you pity the guy, because honestly when your choice of someone to order you around is Karkat Vantas, then your life is really, really sad.
You dismiss it, and try not to think about the way it feels like the two of you did a weird double reacharound, the leader born a freak that gets to direct someone and actually be trusted with decisions, and the soldier pushed into the limelight who can finally breathe with someone to direct his strength for him.
You want to tell him to calm down and take a break, to be less dumb than your stupid past self was and stop hurting himself for being who he is, but you’ve got a clown on the loose and an entire asteroid of trolls to keep safe and sane (or as sane as they can be), and you don’t have time to play therapist.
When you’ve finally gotten this situation under control you can finally sit his stupid ass down, tell him you’ll take over from now on and maybe teach him to like himself a little.
You’re bad at it yourself. But maybe at least you’ll be able to help someone else.
