Chapter Text

1. Seer of Mind

(Post-retcon, <> Vrisrezi on the meteor)

You traced the rough grey fabric of your moirail’s coat. Her Thief of Light outfit was much softer, though she almost never wore it anymore. Only when she flew, but even that she could do without the orange-creamsickle clothes. The two of you were sitting on one of the couches in the library. Vriska was resting her head on yours, her luscious black hair tickling your neck. ‘Terezi…’ she mumbled.

‘Mmh?’

‘Your horn pricks in my skin.’

You shifted your head. She fell on your shoulder with hers. Now her horn was pricking in your skin. But that was fine. You moved again, flipping your legs sideways over the couch. Now she fell with her body on your lap. ‘Hey!’ she said. ‘What was that for?’ Her eight pupils glared at you from under her dark eyebrows. ‘You restless, Pyrope?’

‘A bit,’ you answered, cupping her face with a hand. ‘I can't help but wonder what could have happened if I had god-tiered? You know, as a fully realized Seer of Mind.’

‘So that's what you break your sorry head about?’ Vriska softly pushed her head against your hand.

It had been on your mind for some time. Maybe you had been able to stop everyone from going insane, after the twelve of you had been stranded on the meteor. Perhaps you could have prevented the deaths of Equius, Nepeta and Feferi. And you could have talked some sense into Vriska, before she'd killed Tavros. You knew she was sorry and quite sad about that whole escapade. One of the first things she had confessed when you became moirails. The third night of your moirallegiance, she'd come to your respriteblock in the meteor and you had talked until the morning. Well, you had mostly talked to her. After a great deal of shooshpaps and assuring her that she really wasn't weak, she'd calmed down a bit. Then you had heard the actual story from her. Tavros had decided, not completely unreasonably, that she needed to stop being such a jackass to everyone else. He’d attacked her, and instead of dodging him and settling down, she'd sort of snapped and had ran him through with his own lance. One quote of hers during that night still lingered in your head: “I'm just another cobalt blood. Too violent for my own good. What… what if I'm too dan-”

You hadn't let her finish her sentence. Too many shooshpaps and a hot cup of that gross coffee from the machines later, she had finally calmed down and accepted that she could always meet up with Tavros in the dream bubbles.

‘Don't sulk about that.’ Vriska said. You snapped out of your thoughts. ‘What would have made you better if you god-tiered? I know for a fact that it would have healed your eyes. That wouldn't be good, now would it?’

You shuddered by the thought. The sensations you would get from seeing and smelling the world at the same time would surely send your brain into overdrive. Vriska apparently sensed your discomfort. She swiftly picked your glasses off and stroked the skin under your blind eyes. Now you were the one leaning into her hand. ‘That would have terrible consequences, you're right.’

‘Furthermore, you can already read everyone here like an open book, so what benefits would a fancy green dress and laced shoes have?’

‘I'd be more powerful with my fraymotifs,’ you suggested.

‘Like you need those, you're already scarily good with that cane, and-’

The door clicked open. Walking into the library was the elegant figure of Kanaya Maryam.

Vriska perked up from your lap. ‘Hey Fussyfangs! Is Lalonde still grouchy?’

The Sylph turned towards her. You could smell her pissed-off demeanor. ‘No, she is not “grouchy”. She is very upset about the fact that you made a complete mess out of her room. Or her respriteblock, whatever you prefer.’

‘Pfft,’ your moirail huffed. ‘Oh please, what did I do now?’

Kanaya came closer. You were a little afraid that she would get her chainsaw out. ‘I think that throwing those bottles against the wall and calling her a “soporific substance addict” has not helped her as much as you want to believe.’

‘Come on, we can't have her go down the Gamzee-path.’ Vriska now jumped off the couch. ‘She won't listen if you just tell her to stop alchemizing that shit!’

‘Eh, could you please… stop?’ you carefully said. None of them listened. You knew Kanaya was tall enough to just look down at Vriska. And from the quick stripes of pavement grey you smelled, it seemed like the Thief was pricking her in the chest.

‘Next time I see her drink that junk, I'll throw all of it in the first load gaper I see!’ she yelled. ‘Aaaaaaaall of it!’

You got up and pulled Vriska away from the rainbow drinker. ‘For Gog’s sake, stop yelling!’ Shoving her onto the couch again, you said to the still enraged Kanaya: ‘I'm sure we can think of a way to make Rose stop drinking human soporifics without ruining her respriteblock again. Perhaps Dave knows what to do, he has known her longer than any of us.’

Kanaya went to see the Knight. And you sighed deeply when sitting down again. ‘That… wasn't necessary.’

Vriska threw her jacket on the floor in front of her and crossed her arms. She said something muffled about stupid lousy no good jadebloods. Then she turned to you again. ‘See? That's what I mean. Being a Seer of Mind with a dumb green dress doesn't make you better in… in calming the whole bunch down. Or in doing whatever a Seer is supposed to do. Making logical decisions or any of that nonsense. You're the most rational person I know already.’

You still had your doubts. ‘Before Rose became like this, she said that Seers act like guides. Who have I ever guided? What kind of guiding have I done in our session?’ With a snap of your fingers, you un-captchalogued your cape. The hood drooped over your eyes. Thinking about it, the hood of Rose’s outfit was about as big.

‘Why do you always ponder so much, Terezi?’ Vriska pulled you into an embrace. ‘You're fine as you are. The rest of the whole Seer-nonsense is bullshit. We already have one, Lalonde, and she's… supposed to be choosing the most fortunate path through the furthest ring. And you make sure we don't lose our minds again.’

With a tiny sharp-toothed smile, you reached behind your back to pick up a corner of your cape. Folding it around the both of you, you agreed with her. ‘I guess that is a good thing. Even though I could see that as “guidance of your minds”.’

‘Can it, Pyrope.’

You smelled a blueberry blush on your moirail’s face.

‘Don't overdo it,’ she said. ‘That's my job.’

~

That's my job…

It was. It was totally her job. It was so her job, to storm off to the dreambubbles. To think that she was capable of overdoing it so much. To attempt to stop Lord English with an army of rounded up spirits of the doomed timelines. A ghost of a god-tiered Nepeta shoots past you. Helplessly flailing, she gets sucked into the black hole. Just like so many before her. You turn your dragon-winged jetpack up a notch to resist the pull. It seems like you've flown around the black hole for years. And still you haven't found her. One time, only once, you've seen a god-tiered version of yourself. She had dark circles under her healed eyes, a permanent snarl on her face and cursed the living hell out of you before disappearing into the black hole. That hadn't been a pleasant encounter. A soft beep sounds from your pocket. John asks if you are okay. His goofy smile makes you feel a little better. You snap a picture of your surroundings and send it to him. “Okay” isn't the best word to describe how you feel now.

You smell a flicker of orange in the swirling black and green mass. Swooping closer, you're just in time to see a doomed Rose get sucked in. She was wearing Dave’s shades and a fedora. You try what you've tried at least 413 times. From the top of your lungs, you scream: ‘VR1SK4!!’

No reply, as usual. Coughing, you catch your breath. An Aradiabot flies over your head, you smell the mess of wires that her torn metal chest is. Maybe she helped you once fight the Black King. You have no feeling of sadness anymore. Aradiabots are the most common things you see here. You circle as close to the black hole as you can without getting pulled in. A little spot on your left side gets your attention. It's not moving towards the black hole. You fly over to it. As you get closer and closer, you smell the creamsicle of the Light outfits. Your heart jumps when you smell the blueberry wings, fluttering feebly. Never did you know that god-tier wings act even when the god in question doesn't seem to be conscious. When you firmly grab your Moirail's hand, her eyes flick open. ‘I got you, finally I got you!’

She looks up to you, seemingly too tired to speak. You see her wings stop fluttering. A sudden pull from the void in front of you makes her hand slip from yours. With a cry, you throw yourself forward, grabbing her hood and tunic. She hangs on to your hair with the little strength she has left. That hurts, but you flip over in the air and turn your jetwings up to their highest level. Shooting away from the black hole now, you swing Vriska sideways, so you can put one arm under her knees and the other under her shoulders. A fanged smile is on her lips now. Softly, she says: ‘Do you… remem8er me?’

A question you didn't expect. ‘Of course, I wouldn't have searched for you if I didn't. Now shoosh, we'll get home soon.’

‘Home… you succeeded? I never expected you bunch of idiots to actually c-create a new… universe.’

She's tired, you feel that because of the way she lets herself hang slack in your arms. You hope she isn't injured. You hope that the dreambubble with the fenestrated wall from which you came is still intact. You hope to get to Earth C soon. But hope you have. In fact, it was long ago you've felt this hopeful. You think back to what Vriska once said. That you didn't need to be a fully realized Seer of Mind to be powerful. You hug Vriska softly, as much as you can while flying. Even without god-tier level power, you fought two Jacks, without dying, even though Dave and Dirk were more powerful, in your opinion. And now, you're guiding someone home.