emberkeelty:
hootlord replied to your post: Also I would like to point out
I’m desperately hoping PM is part of the ultimate system break. That would just make my Homestuck forever.
WV too! He’s the revolutionary! I want PM to kill Jack and save WV then they go together to the new session and lead a rebellion of ALL OF THE CARAPACES against THE GAME ITSELF. It will never, ever happen but IT IS WHAT I WANT.
…And on that day of days, when the Maid and the Page, the Bard and the Mage were to enter, when four gods would descend from the Furthest Ring and realign the planets, on that day, an angel appeared on the battlefield.
(On Derse, there were reports earlier that day, of a green and white figure that tore through the sky and headed straight for the Veil — but since no one has set foot in the cloning chambers since the beginning of time, not as far as anyone alive can remember, this is surely a lie.)
But there were too many witnesses on Skaia for anyone to discount this: That an angel appeared, scarred and maimed and dressed in rags, with a fallen soldier in her single remaining arm, and in the looping vines that grew from her waist she bore two swords, white and black.
(And there are those who swear blind that the soldier was dead, and miraculously opened his eyes and came to life when she set him on the ground, and there are others who say he had been alive all along, but the truth of the matter cannot be known.)
And with two armies at their back, with gods and heroes at their sides, they stood before the kings and queens, and the angel and the soldier said, No more. They said, The game is done.
It was not a bloodless revolution, for there is only so much that two people can do, but no one who heard the soldier speak that day — or who saw the angel’s expression when they first set foot on Prospit, and such a strange look of recognition and longing and loss it was — not a single one of them would have thought twice about following them into hell.
(And much later, when they replaced the purple and gold with blue flags and white suns, and when the amassed crowds watched them shatter the kings’ sceptres, if a parcel mistress thought that there was something very familiar about the angel’s face, she would tell nobody about it.)
