Chapter Text
In the beginning, Karkat had been the leader. It hadn't meant much, back then; you were all filled with hope and spite and the knowledge that you were going to change the world, and who was in charge hadn't seemed to matter to anyone but Vriska and- and- nevermind. It hadn't meant much to all of you, but to Crockercorp he had been the obvious target. They had gotten him when he was alone, sent a single video afterwards. He hadn't been able to get out the order not to give in to any demands between screams. You would have done anything, but the ransom never came. The Condesce had no plans to give him back.
Vriska had taken command after. No one else wanted it now, and she was a good leader, by some standards. She certainly got everyone to do their jobs. You weren't her biggest fan, but you try desperately to remember every boast, every insult now. You woke up one morning and she was gone. Not just gone- erased like she had never existed. Even your teammates with digital memory banks had forgotten her. (You had tried to remind him, you'd been so sure there must be something left- Vriska was one of the people he was closest to, which was a bit sad if you thought about it. He had just stared at you blankly and told you to stop being silly.) You understood, then, that Karkat had been an idle taunt, a warning shot. This was a true show of power.
After Vriska-
After-
(Equius, it's me, it's Nepeta, I know you're in there, I don't want to fight)
Feferi had been next, the only one of you who still believed you could do this. You remember creeping through the vents of your hideout late at night, unable to sleep, when you heard voices coming from the common room.
"We know he's still alive. That bitch wouldn't have killed him if she could keep him to gloat. I have to save him, if there's any chance. Even if there isn't."
"He wouldn't have wanted you to go on a suicide mission! Please, just stay. I need you here."
"I don't care what he would have wanted, FF. I hate him."
He never came back. Feferi announced that she was going to challenge the Condesce, as was her birthright. You were still reeling from losing them when your hideout was found.
Eridan had sold you out, and you thought you were all dead until Gamzee started laughing. He tore through the drones like they were flesh and blood rather than metal. When they were all destroyed, he turned to you with that same hungry look in his eye, and you ran and ran.
Kanaya barely survived fighting them both off. By medical standards, she didn't. You used the gift you got from- the gift you got to bring her back, clawed open her chest and attached it to her bloodpusher. It was remotely disabled within a few days. Of course he left an override. The same override, apparently, that he left in Tavros' bionic legs and wings.
After Terezi left to find out what happened to Vriska, it was just you and Aradia's Uploaded ghost. Your power banks had been damaged in the attack, so she couldn't run for more than a few minutes at a time. In the end, it was up to you to lead the scattered remains of the rebellion. You needed help, powerful help. And you knew just how to get it.
-
"Skainet is the second-largest corporation on the planet, just behind Crockercorp," Aradia's hollow voice rings out. "Its owners still care about money above all else, of course, but they may be willing to cooperate to take down their biggest competitor."
You hum in acknowledgement and try to figure out how to get your tail through the dress pants of your suit.
"Current heir of the company is Jake English, said to be incredibly charming, a huge fan of action movies, and dumber than a moobeast," she continues. He'd said the Upload would retain her personality. He'd said a lot of things. "All you need to do is find him at the gala, make sure he's infatuated with you, and say whatever gets him to agree to help us. It shouldn't be difficult."
"I hear that a lot about about plans that end with somekitty dying!" you say cheerfully, since one of you has to be.
"You seem to be Okay with that."
You ignore her and step out of the stolen limousine. The people around you are dressed in a constantly shifting array of RGB colors, and they all appear offputtingly human. You know that it's because they're rich enough to get biomods that can't be detected, but you can't help but flinch when you feel eyes on your ears and tail. No time to be self-conscious, Nepeta, you need to find English.
You glance around the room, and- huh. Aradia was right about the first step, at least. Jake English is in a green and gold suit that almost seems to glow, not because of the lights overhead, but because of the person wearing it. He's stunningly beautiful, in a way that you'd think had to be surgical if it weren't for the buck teeth, the glasses, the scar on one side of his forehead. You find yourself walking towards him without thinking, much like the crowd around him must have. Okay, step two is looking more difficult. What do you have that could set you apart from this crowd of impossibly beautiful people?
You know the answer immediately. He likes action movies, right? The women here are all dressed up and plasticine, but you're lithe and ready for a fight, even in this stupid suit. You stalk towards him, eyeing your prey. This, at least, you know how to do. You reach the center of the throng, where English is animatedly telling a story about hunting... Gazelle? You thought those were extinct. Okay, you can work with this. Opposies attract, but your cutest ships all had interests in common! You just need to share what you know about hunting.
"I was raised by feral cyborg meowbeasts, and they taught me how to catch and eat rats," you say. All the fancy people turn and gape at you. Even English's ever-present blinding smile is gone, replaced by an expression of pure shock. Fuck! Why did you say that? You're going to get kicked out of the party!
Then, to your surprise, his face shifts to a far more genuine grin. "Golly! Imagine that! I once met a button man who had a biomod that let him eat small animals and hack up the bones like an owl! Can you do anything like that with your..." He gestures towards your more cattish parts.
"Only better balance and hearing. It's great for acrocatics and stealth, though!" Okay, you didn't ruin this, and English is more interesting than you thought. Win-win!
"Well, aren't you just the cat's meow! Grins and gives a sly but not overly familiar wink." What? What is he... Oh. My. Gog. Forget Skaianet, you may have just met the perfect man.
You look around. The crowd has mostly dispersed now, though you catch a few of them giving you dirty looks. Oh fuck yes.
"The mighty lioness apurreciates the fine gentlecat's pun, and the compliment! She brings back a gazelle carcass to show her catitude, since she's heard that he's fond of them."
He's confused for a moment, but recognition soon spreads across his face. "Alan Cumming, who is a lion and not a human, is mighty fond of the gift! He wonders if the beautiful lioness would like anything in return?"
You think for a moment. "She would like to get out of this ballroom, as all the noise offends her sensitive hearing, which she needs to track purrey."
"So you brought the carcass to the ballroom? How daring! I've got quarters just upstairs. Let's ankle before anyone notices I've gone."
You grin, all teeth, your victory smile. Step two complete, and three is going to be more fun than you thought.
-
When he said he had quarters, he meant a full apartment, bigger than any you've set paw in before. You tell him as much, and he tilts his head.
"I've noticed that you've got a bit of a tic, there, if it's not rude to point it out," he says. "I've tried to remove the more antiquated jargon from my speech several times, but it never seems to stick! I can sympathize, is what I'm saying."
"Tried to remove it? I'm doing this on purrpose to hiss people off!" You're a bit offended, honestly.
"Oh! My apologies!" and he does seem to mean it, "I just assumed we had a tad of overlap. Got to give the people what they want, you know." He flashes another brilliant smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. You need to save this.
"No, I... I get it. I feel like I have to be this cool, cute rebel sometimes. There's a lot of pressure on me, for- for reasons, to be someone who's never scared and always defies authorkitty. That's kind of the pawpposite of your purroblem, but they feel kind of the same, don't they?"
Shit. Why did you say that. You haven't told that to anyone other than- don't think about him, you need to keep it together. Be cool, Nepeta. Oh, no! Now he knows you're not really cool! He's staring at you! Do something!
Before you can, he starts to talk. "Well, I guess it is a bit- a bit stifling, sometimes." He's no longer looking you in the eyes. Is that good or bad? You can't remember, so you just go with good because it makes you feel less itchy. Shit, he's still talking! "I'm not really cut out for a nine to five, you know? Honestly, I'm not even really good at these damned daft parties. Everyone always says I'm a charmer, but I feel like I haven't a flea's brain what's going on! I get so tired of all the people making noise and staring at me, I hate it when they stare at me, like I'm another display piece. Sometimes I wish- oh, I'm going on again, aren't I."
You are literally sitting on a concupiscent platform and this still couldn't get any more pale. You need to change the subject. You don't. "You wish you could be a hero, right?"
He stares at you with something like awe in his eyes. "How in the dickens did you know that? Oh, I shouldn't even need to ask. You're a clever little thing, you know that?"
No one's ever called you clever before. The closest you've gotten was karkit- Karkat saying you were "ONLY SLIGHTLY BELOW AVERAGE INTELLIGENCE, WHICH IS BETTER THAN I CAN SAY FOR THE REST OF YOU CHUCKLEFUCKS." You had been so happy he'd said that, back then. It had felt like something monumental. You've barely known Jake for an hour and you already feel that same glow, that same warmth in your chest, your eyes- wait, your eyes?
"Er, would you care for a handkerchief? A token of affection for my knight in shining armor?"
You know he's just flirting to try to relieve the tension, but you can't help but sob and fall into his arms. They're warm. That makes you cry harder for some reason. Hit sits there, holding you awkwardly, until the tears dry. You need to get back on track.
"Mew want to be a hero, don't you? I know how. Those reasons I mentioned earlier- it's because I'm a leader. The leader of the rebellion. And we need your help." I need your help, you don't say.
"Jiminy fucking cricket, a rebellion? Against what? And you want me to help? I will, of course, whatever you need. Gosh dandy! I knew you were someone special, but that really isn't what I was expecting."
"We can talk about that in the morning," you say, your strung-out nerves protesting against any more talk. "For meow, I think we both knead a break."
"I couldn't agree more," he says, obviously lying. He leans down to kiss you and cup your cheek! This guy is not getting the flushed memo!
You pounce and pin him to the bed.