I actually wanted to do a more depressing piece, but it ended up looking like what you see now. Perhaps your sadstuck fic could inspire that next piece! |D Not that I'd churn it out anytime soon, since I'm so on/off with drawing...
If you keep track of AO3 submissions it may pop up sometime. My problem is mostly my lack of confidence in Dirk headvoice. Characters like him and Rose are so intelligent that it's hard for me to write them, even if he's pretty much my favourite character.
Here is a little teaser!
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Something connects with your head sharply and you wake with a start. Looking around, you immediately spot something out of place in your room. Yellow. They are clothes just like yours, but more on the feminine side, and wearing them is a friend you are just now meeting in person for the first time. You're about to crack a smirk at her, say something witty and impressive, but the look on her face holds your tongue.
She looks as if she’s been holding back tears, and the dark paths that stain her cheeks tell you she’s been crying. Her hands wring erratically at the front of her dress, bunching the golden material in her small fingers, and she bites her lip when you meet her eyes. You feel like she can tell when you do even from behind your shades.
Her mouth opens, but the choked sound she makes is not any word you recognize. She tries again, and this time you hear your name, half-choked out as fresh tears spill down her cheeks. “Strider...”
An unknowing pain clenches tightly at your chest. You know Jane to be nothing but a strong, no-nonsense woman; that is what terrifies you most when you see the despair in her eyes. The depth to the emotion that has led her here to you; a journey you know is not a wise one to take, not unless there is a very good reason to.
A shiver runs through your body. She’s stalling, and you can tell it’s from guilt, from worry, and it makes you feel sick. She’s looking anywhere but your eyes, and when she finally speaks her voice is so quiet that you float a little closer just to make sure you’ll hear.
“It’s... it’s Jake.”
You feel like the blade of one of your shitty swords has run you through the heart right up to its hilt. Everything connects frantically--Jane’s demeanor, Prospit, the dream she told you about before. No. You don’t believe it. Every waking and sleeping moment you have spent playing this goddamn game has been devoted to making sure that dream would not become a reality. You’ve been so meticulous, allowed no room for error--
You retch, the taste of bile stinging your throat; even as frantically as you try to convince yourself that this is a dream (it is), that this can’t be real (it can). “You’re lying. You’re fucking kidding me.” You can’t help the crack in your voice, the way it sounds like it’s coming apart at the seams.
She’s sobbing now, her head hung in hopeless defeat. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” You laugh. It’s the most pitiful sound you’ve ever heard, but you are pretty sure the world is crumbling around you, so what do you care?
“This is a joke. This is such a fucking joke.” You’re at the window in a flash, looking out at Skaia’s horizon, a split-second away from taking flight from this tower like a goddamn lunatic. “Haha, so funny, Jane. So fucking funny.”