Chapter Text
The wind howled against the rooftop. Vriska Serket sat by the edge of the building; her feet swinging freely in empty air. John Egbert was reminded of a schoolgirl on a park swing. She was something wild and exotic and quiet all together in an explosive package.
She was like in the movies, when they disable a bomb and there’s a red wire and a blue wire. Except in this case every wire is the same color and there is a gazillion of them and Vriska is the bomb and she is always going to explode no matter what, and all you want to do is direct her so that she blows up in the right manner. And to do that you have to learn everything about her. And the excitement never stops.
The d8 had gone well, although not exactly where John had expected it go when it all began.
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Eight o’clock in the morning, Egbert Household. John wakes up in a bed that he thrashed in his sleep. His hand swings at three places before it closes in on his glasses. They go up on this nose. He put on his clothes. It feels really weird to put on clothes at an early hour of the weekend. The clothes feel all wrong on the skin. They fit wrong too. Even the air that you breath seems wrong. But today is a date. You’re supposed to be ready and stuff right? You’re supposed to open your window and yell at the world right? John sits on a chair and fumble with his sneakers in the half-dark. Yeah there’s just no way he’s gonna do that.
Eight o’clock and a half, at a castle-like hive. Vriska looks at herself in the mirror again. Human girls don’t look like that. This is going to go wrong. He’s just going to freak out. Can’t they just do this another day? No way, no way. Today is the day and they are going to do this. She tries her shirts again. She hesitates between two. That one is new and in perfect condition. That other one is new and in perfect condition too! Except she ripped off the left sleeve. She doesn’t have to do that. She doesn’t have a robot arm anymore. So why does she do that? Because it feels right. Should she go on a date with clothes that don’t feel right? No way, yeah!!!!!!!! But, but. Would a human girl wear damaged clothes on a date? Well she’s not a human girl. There she goes again to look at herself in the mirror.
A quarter before nine. John is walking outside in his neighborhood. The air is stiff and still feels weird to breath. The extremities of his limbs are tingling a bit. He should be jogging. Right? Like in the movies when the heroes are getting pumped up for the big day. To save the world. They are always jogging and stuff and doing a bazillion push-ups. Right? Ha. No way. John Egbert walks quietly on the cold pavement. Are footsteps always this loud? He reaches the end of the street. The boy pauses and looks around. Well. Let’s go all the way over there too, just for good measure.
Vriska’s hive, nine and a half. The girl is staring at a computer screen and typing in a bored manner. Why is she even speaking to him? Well probably because he’s the only one who’s online right now. Her finger slips back and forth the 8 key. She bares her fangs at what she is reading. No, she is not going to bring John to an alternian fine art museum. And no, for the last time, she doesn’t need to smooth her hair with Synthetic Hoofbeast Sweat mixed with Perfectly Generic Protein Sauce, half and half, with a drop of mind honey. Compounded and swirled at hive temperature. That’s stupid. He’s stupid. Is that really how he gets his hair to look like that? Wait. Would that even work?
Ten o’clock, in a quiet human house. John eats his two strudels as if they were the antidote that he needs to live. There are no peanuts in strudels right? He’s not going to get all sick on his date right? “John you are being stupid you eat strudels all the time”, says the inner Rose in his head. John hurriedly smashes the pastries down his mouth and then rakes with his teeth the cream left in the little plastic things. Why is he so hungry anyway? They still have some pop-tarts left in the cupboard, don’t they?
A quarter to eleven, at an alien mansion. Vriska is freaking out. This can be fixed right. Of course this can be fixed. She is going to fix this. she said she would come.
John’s room. John is exchanging words with a cool kid that is far away. The red text trickles down his screen. Oh come on. There’s no way he’s gonna do that! No, just, no. John takes another bite of pop-tarts and daydreams a bit.
Vriska’s room. A gray girl walks back and forth. It was a stupid idea, stupid stupid lame. But she is going to come and everything will be fine. So there!!!!!!!!
At the same time, John is plundering a large chest. Why did she vehemently say no to the fake arms? They’re a riot. Everybody loves ‘em. What does SHE know about a date anyway. She lives on a pacific island with a hellbeast! John looks at the plastic props and sadly puts them back in the chest.
A quarter and a half. An alien girl is walking in circles in her alien room. Suddenly she seems to relax, goes on her knees and rummages through a pile of broken black shells. She was pretty sure she had a few left? She saw one the other day? There it is! She snatches the magic eight ball in pristine condition. She walks toward a wall with nearly-dancing steps. Then she grins with all fangs and joyfully smashes it against the wall. She let go a sigh. She look at what is left in her hand as if it was an ugly thing that served its purpose. It is dripping. She dips a finger in the blue stuff and doodles a heart on a poster featuring a famous actor. Then she hears someone buzzing at the door and lifts her head with a gasp.
Eleven and a half, Egbert bathroom. John stands in front of the sink mirror. He happens to not be wearing a shirt. “I said”, says John with an unusual accent, “put the bunny. Back. In the. Box.”
Noon, Vriska’s house.
“I cannot believe you would be endeavoured to wear destroyed clothing on a preliminary attempt of relationship.”
“I don’t want you to meddle I want you to dress me!”
“I was just attempting to convey what I believe to be reasonable fashion advice”
“I don’t want to be late that’s all.”
“I assure you that we won’t but you are aware that we are going to need a substantial amount of time to work on your hair. I do not understand what you were thinking when you did that”
Noon and a quarter, John’s house. Pesterlogs are getting filled, and the entire chat log is red text. The last sentences:
“Okay I think we're good but one last thing before you go?”
“John?’
“Yeah?”
“No derping.”
Noon and a half, alien bathroom. A girl is getting her hair cared for and arguing.
“What do you mean, no spiderwebs? If you’re so great then what do YOU put in your hair?
Egbert residence. John goes down a flight of stairs and jumps the last two steps. Wait. Is that… Oh no. An odor of cake and burning fills the air. A kitchen door is opened.
“Dad what are you doing!”
“Son, I am proud of you.”
“No I mean it dad what are you doing?”
“Today is a special day”
“No it’s not! How do you even know that anyway!”
“I made you a cake”
“I… That’s great dad. Thanks. But can you put it aside so I can eat it later?”
“But it is for your special event.”
“I can’t bring a whole cake!”
“I made one for her too.”
“DAD I’M GONNA BE LATE”
At the same time, at the front door of a hive with towers and bridges.
“The make-up is fine right? Yeah?”
“I assure you that it is acceptable now that I personally reapplied it.”
“Right! Okay.”
“Then I believe that what comes next is that you walk out and you meet the invididual”
“Right! Okay.”
Vriska makes two steps before turning back. She spreads her skirt and holds it like it's something icky.
“This is how human girls look right?”
“I beg you please just go.”
One o’clock minus fifteen minutes. Next time he's leaving earlier. Next time. But damn damn damn he’s gonna be late, he’s totally gonna be late.
One o’clock minus ten, Vriska is seriously considering not waiting after that red light any longer. She can make it across the street between two cars. She totally can. Finally, green!
One o’clock minus five. John is heaving and puffing. So that’s why they are always jogging in the movies. Is that the meeting spot over there? Suddenly Johns wishes he was going more slowly. Or maybe at a complete halt. Or maybe walking backward.
Vriska is walking with hurried steps. She is holding her hair with both hands. Don’t mess them, don’t mess them, don’t mess them.
John’s legendary overbite burries itself in his lower lip. What if she looks weird? I mean, really, really weird. She’s an alien, she’s an alien, she’s an alien.
Vriska stops, turns around, walk away. I’m an alien, I’m an alien, aliens can’t go on a human d8, why would I think that this was going to work. Then the girl stops. Spins around. She walks forward again. A d8 is a d8. Yeah!!!!!!!!
There’s someone over there oh god oh god well of course there was going to be someone. Get a grip on your mangrit John. No derping.
Is that him over there? He’s wearing blue. It has to be…
Yellow spikes on the head? No. Antennas? No. Horns. Ooookay I didn’t expect horns. Okay Egbert stop thinking. You can do this.
“SORRY I WAS LATE”
“Are we?”
“Am I?
“Do you have a watch?”
“No, no I don’t”
“Hi.”
“Yeah, hi. Hello.”
“How you doing Vriska? You’re Vriska right?”
“How are you doing John? I mean, of course that’s me. And I’m doing good. Fine. Great. Better than great. Yeah!!!!!!!!”
“You look great.”
“I always look great. I’m the best.”
“That you are.”
John freezes for a fraction of a second. Then he snaps back into it.
“You wanna go over there?”