A paragon in the field of creative writing once told me this: When you write fiction, you are joining a conversation that has been taking place for millennia.

We all seek to improve our craft, and in doing so, we engage in dialogue with the greats who have come before us since time immemorial. I like to think that this holds true on our site. We engage with each other, we engage with our readers, and most importantly, we engage with the artists whose work has had an impact on our lives. We pay them a show of gratitude.

Homestuck is a work of art, and to me that's largely because of its memorable characters. Like so many who've been here before me, I've been inspired to join the conversation with my own portrayal of these characters.

So sit down with me, if you'd like. I want to tell you a story.

%O%

Little Miracles:

A Familiar Speech

Monday, March 2nd 2015

The bedroom was dark, except for one small rectangle of light. It came from an open laptop resting on the covers of the bed. The glow was dim, compressed to almost nothing by the heavy darkness of the early morning hours. Around the room, shape and form were just barely visible. The pillows slumped against the wall, almost out of sight, and the silhouette of a lamp could just barely be seen, sitting on a bedside table. An alarm clock sat there as well, reading 4:13am in harsh red lines. Curves of light and shadow swirled over the bedsheets, playing with their messy wrinkles and folds. Beyond this illuminated bubble, blackness loomed over all that couldn't be seen.

But there was one thing that the laptop managed to highlight well: the figure of the boy using it, sitting cross-legged and hunched over the bright display. His name was Karkat. He'd just woken from a vivid nightmare, shot up from rest with a light dew of sweat coating his face. He had no plans of going back to sleep that night. So, naturally, he pulled out his laptop and started working on various programming projects of his.

Eyes squinted, mind drowsy, he gazed at the sea of numbers and symbols before him, trying to focus. It wasn't going well; even when fully cognisant, he struggled to make any of his code work correctly. But the work gave him something to do. It occupied his wandering mind, and that was all he wanted after such an awful dream.

Still, the constant stream of errors in his work was getting frustrating. Failure after failure, proudly announced by his damned machine. He got to a point where he simply slammed the laptop shut, bathing himself in darkness. With a sigh, he bowed his head to rest it on his palms, eyes shut. A half-formed thought drifted through his mind: this is all such bullshit.

He raised his head, and his hands slipped down his face. Thoughts distant, Karkat stared into the darkness. His eyes ached for colour, still unadjusted to the room. Wispy hues floated through his vision, imagined and intangible. He sat like this for more than two hours, deep within his own mind and consumed by shade.

But as time passed, the view in Karkat's window shifted from raw black to a silvery blue colour. Karkat watched the way it began to bring his room into existence around him. In the gleam of the approaching sun, his room seemed ethereal, and he was almost brought to a state of calm. But then life set into motion for the day.

Karkat's trance was broken by the screeching of his brother's alarm, and then by the creaking of his bed as Kankri moved to silence the din. He listened to his brother's movements across the hall. He heard the grumbling as Kankri struggled out of his comfy sheets and made his way to the door. There was the click of his doorknob, and a groan from the old wood as it swung open. Footsteps passed by Karkat's door, headed for the stairs. They were muffled, the kind produced when it's too early for shoes, which it definitely was.

Karkat knew it was time to start the day, but also knew he wasn't ready for it. After another moment of rest, he reached over and turned off the alarm on his own clock, to prevent it from buzzing later. Dragging his legs off the bed to plant them on the carpeted floor, he rose up and reached for his ceiling in a wide stretch. He could feel the tension from a lack of motion, and his back cracked a few times.

Wordlessly, and almost without higher thought, he lumbered out of his room and down the hall toward the stairs. As he passed through the hall, he took the time to look at the pictures hanging there. Old family photos were on display, and drawings from when the two were kids. Time really got away from him, he thought. All of a sudden, he was a junior in high school. Soon to be a senior. His eyes lingered on some of the sloppy drawings, and he struggled to believe that he had once created those things. In corporeal form, they far outlasted his memory.

Karkat made it to the stairs and started down. As he neared the bottom, the sounds of clinking silverware and a sizzle of bacon graced his ears. He came into the doorway, and saw his older brother Kankri tending to a pan on the stove, his back to the doorway. He hadn't even bothered to get dressed for the day yet. Kankri stood there clad in grey sweatpants and a white sleeveless shirt.

He must have heard the entrance of his brother, because Kankri turned around with a beaming smile. "Good morning, Karkat," came his greeting, all too chipper for 6:30 in the morning. Karkat just nodded to his brother, pursing his lips. He trudged over to the fridge and opened it, rummaging through for something worth drinking.

Kankri's smile faded somewhat. He'd always been more of a morning person than Karkat. Kankri really didn't know why he expected a different reaction from the boy. He shovelled some eggs onto a plate and moved to sit down at the small kitchen table they had. A chair hummed as he pulled it across the tiled floor and sat down. As he started eating, he watched his brother fumble with all the different containers in the fridge. "There's eggs in the pan, if you want any," he said between bites. "I made you some toast too."

"Thanks," Karkat mumbled. "I'm not hungry though."

At last he found what he'd been searching for. Karkat slid the carton of orange juice out from the back of the fridge, and poured himself a glass of it at the counter. Without any further acknowledgement of his brother, he left the kitchen to go get ready for the day. Kankri looked down at his food and sighed.

"Hey Karkat!" he called out, loud enough to reach him through the house.

"Yeah?" he hollered back.

"Do you at least want to take it with you? In case you get hungry at school or something?"

"Sure, I guess," came the reply.

Kankri nodded to himself, and stood up from the table to get a plastic bag.

Meanwhile, Karkat was in the bathroom just about to brush his teeth. He got about three brushstrokes in before he sputtered toothpaste and spit all over the sink. "Jesus Christ!" he shouted, scrambling to fill a cup with water and rid himself of the horrid taste in his mouth.

"You alright up there, Karkat?" Kankri asked from down below.

He huffed in annoyance. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fucking fine!"

"Language, Karkat!"

He just rolled his eyes and went back to his routine. He was annoyed with himself. Who forgets that orange juice and toothpaste are a terrible combination? He looked up into the mirror. You, that's who. Idiot.

Karkat finished cleaning up and went back into his bedroom to find some clothes for the day. He settled on a pair of jeans and a red shirt. The jeans hung low on his frame, and he needed a belt to keep them at a good height. He was just slipping on his black hoodie when his phone buzzed on the bedside table. He sat down on the bed and picked up his phone to read the new text.

'H3Y K4RK4T, HOWS 1T GO1NG? :]'

"Oh for Christ's sake." Karkat threw the phone onto the bed beside him, not bothering to respond. Talking to that girl topped the list of things he didn't want to do. Karkat knew he'd have to deal with her sooner or later, but that didn't mean he had to do it right away.

He shoved all of his books and notepads into his backpack, and finished the process by slipping in his laptop and zipping the bag shut. Karkat hurried downstairs to the front door, aware that he'd be running late if he didn't speed up his morning. He almost made it out of the house without Kankri talking to him. Almost.

"Karkat," he called out from the kitchen. Karkat froze in place, with pure annoyance. Kankri ceased his work of cleaning the pan from breakfast. "I've got that toast for you," he said, strolling out of the kitchen and into the living room with the little plastic bag.

"Yeah okay thanks." Karkat closed the gap and grabbed the bag. He turned around to head back toward the door, clearly rushed.

"And Karkat?" Kankri said.

Again Karkat stopped with a sigh. "What?"

"Make sure the car has enough gas in it, I've been driving a lot recently and I'm pretty sure it's getting—"

"Yeah okay, I got it!" Karkat resumed his walk, and in moments was out the door. It was going to be a close call already, having to pick up his friend and still make it to school on time. He really didn't need Kankri slowing him down.

Kankri listened to the front door slam shut, feeling it rattle the floor slightly. He drew in a breath. "Low," he whispered, finishing his sentence, though nobody heard it. More than ever, he felt the emptiness of the home. He slumped back to the kitchen to finish cleaning the dishes.

Karkat hurried down the little stone path that connected the front door to the driveway, heading for the car that he and Kankri both shared, a Ford Focus from 2003. He knew he was running short on time, but still took a quick glance at his watch to affirm that fact as he rounded the silvery hood of the car.

He put his bag in the back and hopped into the driver's seat, slamming the door next to him. As he turned the key and listened to the engine grumble to life, he saw that the car was indeed low on gas. Only had about a quarter tank left.

Great, I'm gonna have to fill it up on the way home, he thought. Karkat backed out of the driveway (barely missing a trash can) and took off down the road, searching the radio for some decent music as he sped along toward Gamzee's house.

From the kitchen window, Kankri watched his brother fade into the distance. He was busy scrubbing away at the pan he'd cooked with, trying to loosen some burnt egg matter from its surface.

%O%

Karkat didn't live too far away from Gamzee, and after twisting through a maze of back roads, he came to a stop in front of his house. It wasn't much different from his own; they both lived within the same vein of suburban sprawl. A few minutes passed, and the oaf had yet to come outside, so Karkat honked the horn as a signal that he'd be leaving soon if the freeloader didn't get his ass in gear.

That seemed to get Gamzee's attention, because he emerged from the house not long after. Karkat figured his honking had woken up the moron, because he stumbled out the door in jeans and a wrinkled t-shirt, his unbrushed hair flopping every which way. With a smirk, Karkat noticed that his socks didn't match, either. His book bag swung around by one strap on his shoulder as he reached around to grab the doorknob. He was shouting something back toward his father Kurloz. Karkat saw Kurloz begin to shake his head in annoyance before it was cut off by the closing door. Then Gamzee cut straight across the yard, headed for Karkat.

He pulled on one of the back door handles a few times, but it didn't budge, so he knocked on the window to ask for some help. Karkat rolled his eyes and lowered the window on that side.

"It's unlocked, stupid. The handle's stiff, you gotta pull it harder."

Gamzee nodded and pulled again, putting his back into it this time. With a loud clank, the door opened. He grunted as he threw his bag into the back seat. It landed sloppily and fell to the floor of the car, a few papers spilling out of an open pouch. Gamzee didn't even notice, he'd already shut the door and joined Karkat up front.

As soon as Gamzee's door closed, Karkat hit the gas, and off they went down the road. Gamzee's seat squeaked a little as he sunk down into it, and he looked over at his friend with that air-headed grin he always wore. He took note of the rings under Karkat's eyes, and his frown. He was clearly not in a good mood, but that wasn't a surprise.

"How's your morning been, bro?" Gamzee asked.

Just then, the car started beeping. It surprised Karkat for a second, until he looked down at the dashboard, then over at his friend.

"Gamzee, buckle your seatbelt for Christ's sake."

"Shit, oops," he mumbled as he sat up and messed around with the strap. Finally, he clicked it into place, and the car stopped beeping.

"What the hell man? You know that's fucking important, right?"

"Yeah yeah. It just slipped my mind, is all."

"Oh, you forgot something? Big goddamn surprise."

Gamzee just looked at Karkat for a while, his head tilted. "I'm gonna guess it hasn't been all that great."

"What?"

"Your morning, bro."

"Oh… Nah, it's been fine." Karkat grimaced and kept his eye on the road, not saying anything for a moment. "How's yours going?"

"It just started a few minutes ago. Good so far," he chuckled. He gave Karkat a thumbs up.

Karkat didn't join in on the laughing though, and Gamzee could tell something was on his mind.

"Okay, what all's the matter, best friend?"

Karkat looked over at him, feigning shock. "Nothing, why do you ask? Everything's fucking peachy. Don't worry your overgrown head about it."

Gamzee rubbed the side of his head, his hand lost in the mound of hair. "You been so motherfuckin' stressed lately, my bother," he said, frowning. "Like, more than normal."

Karkat was silent for a while, his hands gripped tightly on the steering wheel. "Didn't get any sleep."

"Again?"

"Yes, again!" he snapped. "I don't know what the fucking problem is. But I can't sleep sometimes, so I try to get some programming done or some shit like that. Of course that doesn't fucking go well either, so I wind up just laying in bed wondering why life is so goddamn hard, why I can't catch a fucking break. Same shit as usual…"

Karkat went on to tell Gamzee more about the troubles he was having. He mentioned that he also got a text from Terezi.

"Bro, you know what I think?" Gamzee asked, when he'd finally finished. Karkat knew what was coming, and he dreaded hearing the stale speech. "You need a miracle, my friend!" Karkat groaned. "And I'm sure one is fixin' to head your way! It's how karma works and all."

Karkat sighed again. "Gamzee, let's just pretend I actually fucking believe you for a second, okay? How long am I supposed to wait for this stupid miracle?"

"Maybe it's already happened, bro. You just don't realise it. Miracles are all crazy and wonderful like that. They happen all the time, all around us." His hands were involved in his speaking now, gesturing like an avid lunatic. "Little things pop up, and they have some big consequences."

Gamzee took a pause, the gears in his brain spinning whimsically. "Maybe it'll happen today, bro. Maybe a miracle will come crashing into your life, and maybe you won't even know it's happened."

"Maybe, maybe, maybe!" Karkat mocked his friend. "Just shut up already! All you ever tell me is this fortune cookie bullshit, I've heard it a thousand times!"

"Karma works in mysterious ways, I'm telling ya. When you least expect it, your life is gonna get flipped upside down. Let your brain all munch on that for a while," he finished, shifting himself in the seat so he could look out the side window.

Karkat couldn't have been happier that the conversation was over. He thought about what Gamzee said for a while, but mostly he was just thinking about how dumb it made Gamzee sound whenever that bilge came out of his mouth.

%O%

With a few minutes to spare, Karkat made it to school and parked in his normal spot. As he turned the key, he looked over at Gamzee, who'd fallen asleep leaning against the window. Karkat knocked him on the shoulder, and Gamzee woke up with a start.

"Huh? Shit, man, are we at school?"

"Nope, I said 'fuck it' and drove us all the way to Ohio instead," Karkat quipped as he got out of the car. "Hurry up, we're gonna be late."

Gamzee sat up and rubbed his forehead. Then he reached around and scooped up all his stuff, crumpling the papers and shoving them back into the bag. He climbed out of the car and waited for his friend to join him. Karkat locked the car and the two made their way across the parking lot to the doors of the school, ready to brave another day.

"Now remember, bro," Gamzee said as they reached the doors.

"Remember what?"

"There's a motherfuckin' miracle headed your way." With that, Gamzee opened the door, and he was gone before Karkat could form a reply that displayed his level of annoyance. Grumbling, he followed Gamzee's lead and flung the door open, walking inside.

He knew this day was going to throw a lot of shit at him, and he wasn't confident that a miracle would be one of those things.

%O%

Conversations only work well when both parties are speaking. So if you have the time, and are so inclined, I would love to hear your thoughts on the progress of this story. I'm already hard at work on the first chapter, so that will be showing up soon as well.