Gristrift

AN (PLEASE READ!): I am sorry. I started this Fanfiction as an experiment, not really knowing what I was getting into. I am one of those authors who does best with a strict outline of everything that is going to happen (to use George R. R. Martin's terms, I am definitely an architect, not a gardener). This fic was started with only vague ideas of some of the major events. It has been annoying and painful to write at every stage and I have not set things up well enough. Plus, without the next cool thing to look forward to, I had to force myself to keep going instead of wanting to keep going. Therefore I am not going to finish this fic. This chapter and a couple others were written in advance (but not fully edited yet), so I will post them, as well as what I wanted the resolutions to the current plot threads to be. I apologize for backing out on you guys. I have learned my writing lesson and next time I won't try to "plan as I write."

"Ugh," said John the next day, "do we have to go back down to the gristrift?" His legs ached from going up and down all those stairs and from running around in the gristrift with a heavy suit on. His arms felt painful and rubbery from wielding the sword.

"Nah. Today's a training day. We ate enough grist for a while at breakfast yesterday. You should be able to go without and still use your powers since they just manifested."

They walked to the rectangular room outside their bedroom. It had changed overnight from a recreational area to a room full of strange machines. Several had dome-shaped hats with wires sticking out of them, which John assumed were for reading brain waves. Many were modified animal cages with hamsters and mice running around in them. A general hum filled the air, punctuated at times by beeps and clangs. Other clones wandered in and headed towards the machines, some alone and others in pairs or groups. Every group of younger clones had an older clone with them.

Condelle sashayed up to John and Dave and flipped her luxurious hair. "Wazzup my Gs?" she asked. They winced.

"Training, I guess," said John, looking at Dave for help.

"Horuss! Over here!" said Condelle. She snapped her fingers impatiently as he ran over. "You was the bougie working with Dave, right?"

John noted that judging by the context, she probably did not know what "bougie" meant.

"I am indeed him, most kind and gracious and sensual leader," said Horuss.

"You fucking flirting with me?" she asked.

"I did not mean it in such a crude manure. You must understand that sensual and sexual are two different items altogether. I would know as these are some of my favorite topics to ponder, excluding such topics as tasty carrots and apples and lush, green fields."

"Oh my God, shut the fuck up, Horuss. You get newbie here. Here, newbie, have a gun. He breaks into buildings. I set up a phone booth for him. I'll be watching later, so no funny business. Now I got some important shit to do today with Aranea, so fuck off." She walked off to an older clone whose face was mostly gray chitin with one eye completely sealed over.

"What's Aranea's power?" asked John, holding his new gun away from him and pointed down.

"Wire tapping. She's been hanging around Condelle a lot lately. Birds of a nobody can stand to be around them feather flock together, I guess."

"Okay, but consider this," said John. "Condelle might need some wires tapped, just like a hacker guy in a movie. Could that be it?"

"Yeah, but, like, why? She has all she needs as far as money goes because Meenah prints the damn stuff. She's never shown any interest in doing things other than keeping Skaia Institute going. There's no use speculating on whether or what she needs Aranea for because she never gives anybody a fucking clue about her motivations. Another unsolved mystery to chalk up to aliens, I say. Sneaky fuckers have their hands in everything."

Horuss led them to an old-fashioned phone booth in a corner of the room with a brain wave helmet hooked up to it.

"As much as I would like to test my superhero powers, I think I need somewhere with more privacy. Last time... myclothescameoff." The last few words were spoken in a low mumble.

"Oh, my," said Horuss. After an awkward pause, he continued. "That is probably because you have little control over your power and you can only currently transport your body through. Which is, of course, why you need practice. I personally used to only be able to horsenap people naked. They were naked because my powers were undeveloped and I was naked because I like the feeling of the wind over my withers." John was starting to think Dave and Eridan were right about Horuss being creepy. Creepy, but harmless. "I will work with Dave, thus averting my eyes, while you break in and out of that phone booth, then. You must strap on the helmet first. Try to think of your clothes and helmet as part of yourself."

John nodded and put on the helmet. A couple of large machines hid their corner from the rest of the clones, but John was still nervous that somebody would walk in. He reasoned that if they didn't care when Horuss was first practicing, they wouldn't care about him.

It took him a while to figure out how to make his powers work again. Horuss suggested recreating his feelings at school two days previous, which, when combined with frustration about not being able to get into the phone booth, finally worked. No clothes again and the helmet didn't make it, but at least he could get in. Getting out without walking out was a harder challenge because he had not broken back out of school. After a half hour of trying, he finally made it out, but he felt nauseous after doing so and had to sit down for a few minutes.

Meanwhile, Horuss told Dave to work on removing only certain evidence from a crime scene and leaving the rest. Horuss had received a memo from Condelle outlining a course for Dave on framing others, which John saw as an awesome way to play pranks. Horuss owned a sculpture of a horse penis and he waved it around whenever a point needed making. He insisted that he had no idea why others would think of it as gross, creepy, or even sexual.

"John, while I am still averting my eyes, I must ask a question. While in the gristrift, were you able to lay your eyes on a herd of the wondrous creatures known as arthours? They are all white and I would consider them the most delightful of pretty ponies. When you see them, you cannot help but delight in their frolicking, muscular, servile movements among the black grasses."

"Uh... I don't think so. All I saw were monsters," said John.

"Such a shame. Their beauty brings tears to my eyes. As a fellow horse, I really feel I can understand these gentle and beautiful beings."

"Haha gotcha. How about we talk about, say, how I just made a couple of the orange juice drops stay while I got rid of all the milk?" asked Dave.

A scream echoed through the room. John quickly gathered his clothes and put them on. The three of them rushed out of the enclosed area and into the general room.

A door slammed shut. In front of that door, dripping oil and grinning, an imp sauntered through the room. It wore a breathing mask and a scuba tank. "Eeeeeheeheeheeheehee!" It shouted, launching for a machine.

Whispers sounded through the room. Who could have done this? Who would want to? Did Condelle know? Did monsters cause yesterday's oil spill? If so, where were they now?

"Raaaraaraaaaaaaaaheeheehee!" The imp jumped on another machine and ripped it apart methodically.

An older clone who walked stiffly and had patchy hair because of the chitin stood up from the machine he had been sitting. He wore pointed sunglasses like Dave's and had a crude tattoo on his right shoulder. Without making a sound, he walked up to the imp and tore its breathing mask off. The imp immediately went into convulsions and began screaming. Blood streamed out of its nose. Within a minute, it had stopped moving and a pool of oil soaked the ground around it. The older clone walked back to his seat.

"Dave?" shouted a clone. "Are you going to leave that nasty goop lying around?"

"Yeah, actually. I think this evidence needs to stay. Might be helpful when we need to trace who did it."

Condelle burst into the room without Aranea. "Everybody to your rooms. Training is over. I will find who did this and they will get punished. Now, go. Shoo! Motherfuckers who stand around fucking gawking make prime suspects."

John reluctantly headed back to his room. Had this whole fiasco started because of his arrival at Skaia? After all, nobody said anything about oil or imps being on the wrong side of the gristrift before he got there. He resolved to figure out what was happening and stop it before it could hurt anybody.