Revisions to Paperwork

It was over.

Right?

It was over.

Vriska rocked a little in the corner of her room, isolated in she wasn’t quite sure what crevasse of the meteor lab, arms wrapped around herself.

Herself.

“Kilter”, she corrected herself. This was a ship now, for all practical purposes sailing towards its destination. She wasn’t sure what meaning that Rose human put to the name she proposed, and Vriska was goddamn sure that nobody on this “ship” knew how to steer it, but every nameless ship is lost to history, so she would stick with the name.

The humans, outnumbered 6 to 2 – well, 4 to 2 if it came down to certain numbers – were adamant about not being overruled in things. She could respect that too.

She.

Vriska had to stop putting this off.

~

“Terezi?”

She was in her own room. It was odd – they knew the humans well enough to boss them around, but there were several layers of ice between that and just… hanging out. A desk. Writing somthing with her rather sloppy script.

“Hm?” She half-turned back towards the bluebood.

“Do you…” If it was a doorway, Vriska would have nonchalantly leaned against the frame. A transportalizer pad gave no such option, so she momentarily tried to balance on one foot. “You know, when I god-tiered, it blew out my sylladex. Or I wouldn’t… Do you still have a copy of the paperwork?”

“Paperwork?”

“Scourge Sisters.”

“Oh! Um… sure. Though,” she was distracted a bit, sniffing about her own sylladex, before producing a flarp book. She pulled a few loose pages out from beside the back cover – densely covered with troll legalese, “I don’t think there’s really anybody to accuse us of assembling against the interests of the Empress anymore. But if you wanted a copy we can just pop over to the alchemeters,” She started to stand up from her chair, but Vriska pushed her back down.

“They need. A revision.”

Terezi froze. 

“No, no, Sisters of the Scourge is still a thing. But. I was let in with an exemption.” Vriska took the stack of pages and flipped though to the second to last – the signaure page.

Twelve signature lines.

Eight filled in with dry blood – their own, for authentication purposes.

Six crossed off, solid black lines though ridges of thick ichor.

Terezi Pyrope

Vriska Serket*

The last page was exposed to the air, and what counted for Terezi’s gaze. It started with a asterisk.

“It was boilerplate for the ‘sister’ part. You know I never would have-“

“Terezi. Since I’ve god-tiered, have I looked – smelled, different to you?”

“I though you were padding a bit more-“

Vriska started to rip at her shirt, “This isn’t any shade of anything, Ok? OK?” And a large pair of rumbleshpheres popped into view.

“WH4T. HOW.” unceremoniously, Terezi reached out to check them – Vriska started to dodge away… then let her.

“The dreamer bodies. On Prospit. I never stuffed there. That was all me. And Derse – do you remember how Feferi’s face looked? She practically wasn’t a sea-dweller. That was how she wanted to look.”

“So now…”

“So somthing carried over, and now nobody can even. Question. I’m a girl,” Vriska stuck her face in Terezi’s, their noses touching.

Daring.

“I never did. Karkat might blow his top, but I never did.”

“Karkat blows his top if his sandwiches are assembled upside-down.” Vriska took a moment to try and put her hastily removed shirt back on. It was intact enough to do it’s job.

“Then. How do we handle this?” Terezi turned back to the paperwork.

“I did die,” She leaned over the desk, “It took an enraged robot to do it.”

“Then,” Terezi took out a set of tools – a worn legal seal on it’s wrap – and selected a thick black pen. She stuck out the only other name still on the list, pulling it’s thick stroke through the asterisk. She then selected an already-cerulean handled blood pen to give the other troll, who pricked the back of her hand for blood with one of it’s points and wrote her name – ungarnished – with the other.

“Now you can make me a copy.”

“Scourge Sister.” Terezi offered a fist.

“Scourge Sisters.” Vriska returned a fistbump.

___

We’re far past Post-coming-out implications.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25173865



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