shitposting rave 5: discount rejects from every genre

I'M GOING TO THROW MYSELF INTO THE OCEAN AND INHALE

[he promptly rattles off something incredibly vulgar in alternian, making an effort to emphasize the various chitters and other bug noises. whether or not insecticons can understand him, they can definitely discern the gist of what he's saying, which is "get fucked"]

WOULD A MAMMAL HAVE THE PARTS TO DO *THAT?* THE ANSWER IS NO AND FUCK YOU FOR MAKING ME PROVE WHAT BRANCH OF LIFE I HAPPENED TO EVOLVE FROM. SHOULD I FLASH WHERE MY GRUBLEGS FELL OFF NEXT? MAYBE SUBMIT FOR GENETIC TESTING TO PROVE I'M NOT A HUMAN IN GREASEPAINT? PLEASE, NO EFFORT IS TOO COSTLY!

 

wasnt ants in mashed potatoes all the rage on earth for a while
that might not be gross if you can get your hands on some

ive eaten bugs on pizza and the crunch is unlike anything that should be on pizza
it haunts you

 

-manifests an image of a giant bug alien, about 6 feet. It's flickery like a hologram so nobody mistakes it for real-

Spoiler: Giant bug

That's a worker. They're one of the smaller ones.

-summons another. This one is 37 feet tall counting antennae-horns, and crushes the worker-illusion underfoot-

Spoiler: even bigger bug

That's a full-grown queen.

They're bugs. -they're trying very hard not to show the absolute loathing show. Xiticix are Bad News-

 

Ants are spicy. No other flavor to them except little pops of spice.

What. Who. No, no, you don't do that. If you're gonna do bug pizza do bug flour.

 

-a kencyr highborn woman stalks on in, mask covering eyes and all. her posture is perfect, yet stiff. her face is stern, unsmiling. she steps with a carefulness that speaks of remarkable self control, as though one wrong step may damn everyone. this may well be true as this is brenwyr, the iron matriarch. she stares at a titanic bug, flickering oddly. why does it do that? what is it? why are these bugs so big? who told them they were allowed to do that? her frown tightens.-

 

" Ever heard the term 'eat what you fear and become fear itself'? Perhaps that's one reason for them to do it. Will you cease referring to me as 'Queen'?? Anyway, it's where someone tells you to do something, kind of like a command, but no severe consequences if you decline."

 

-AND THIS ONE DOES NOT WEAR A MASK. WHY. brenwyr's nostrils flare. she takes in a deep, slow breath. measured. even. controlled. but the gall of finding a woman without a mask. unless it is not a highborn then whatever the fuck. no, no. it probably isn't. jumping at shadows again. the insult of the strange flickering bug goes unanswered for-

-a table is in the distance. it begins to rot. rapidly. and then it catches fire-

 

[Hivebite reels back a little at the insults, but is hardly detoured from his enthusiasm that this small creature he's talking to is a bug. He really should calm down, but it's not really clear if that particular word is in his vocabulary. He attempts to communicate to Karkat using his own sets of chitters and clicks, and just as it was for Karkat it's not necessarily clear. It does come off as him rambling about how much he loves bugs. Probably.]

[Hive is positively thrilled, rushing over to the hologram. It stands just 7 feet above his head, and he's grinning like a fool.] I didn't know bugs could get as big as me!!

I fear nothing, does that mean I eat nothing??

But... you are the Queen! And why would I decline a command from you, my Queen? There's no reason to! And declining a command should have severe consequences.

[He screeches in disgust.]

 

"Hey, could you not?" Angela scowls at this new arrival. "I'm comfortable, please don't burn the whole place down to the ground!."

 

-actually where in this in the first fucking place. what the fuck is this thing. it looks like some sort of titanic armored bug. WHY IS IT HERE. WHERE ARE WE. AERULAN??? WHO THE FUCK IS THIS BITCH TO TELL ME NO-

A single table is hardly the world.

-but we set something on fire again because we got too mad. this too is frustrating. the table explodes and the splintered remains continue to rot away-

 

Angela looks pained.

"We might be able to help you. What do you need?"

She summons a cocktail, something strawberry-flavored with quite a hefty punch of alcohol beneath the sweet. This was going to be a thing.

 

They do. Takes about a world to feed a hive though. -theeey don't sound happy about that-

 

As I've said, one table is far from a tragedy. Your concern is noted, but unnecessary.

-she continues to breathe in a slow, deliberate manner. the table is gone, but no one seems to be dead or injured. so that's a plus. the question of what is this and why remains. a lady does not ask questions but this is hardly the women's world. it's like the riding skirts. scandalous but pragmatic-

An explanation may be helpful, admittedly. Should you be able.

 

"No, Decepticons shouldn't fear anything except for the leader's wrath!" He straightens his posture and slams a servo against his own chest plate to resemble a salute. "I agree, but I am nothing close to a queen, I am merely a soldier. How many times must I explain this?"

 

It does take a lot to feed us!! [Hive doesn't seem to notice their distress.]

So... I should eat Megatron, is what you're saying?

You're my Queen, my Queen! I am your worker, I am your soldier! Command, and I shall obey. [He gives an over dramatic bow, always ready to please.]

 

"NO!!" ShockCollar shouts, realizing his own mistake. "DON'T DO THAT! I recognize my error, do not do such a thing!" Optics wide open in concern.

 

I see no error, but if you don't wish me to eat Megatron, then I wont! You confuse me, my Queen. [He rubs his head as if it's sore.]

 

"This is a space between the worlds. It's a place of truce, perhaps? Nobody can hurt anyone here. Most are from elsewhere and came as you did. You are not a prisoner, you will return to your home before too long." She shrugs. "It's actually a nice place to avoid your normal life. You might like it."

 

Thank you.

-this is an explanation. good. the rage begins to die down. reaching a simmer. she thinks of it some though and it flares a tad again. she finds a seat and sits down to calm herself some-

Though I can't believe outright that harm is impossible here. That is a matter of control. Which will be maintained.

We must dispense with pleasantries, for politeness' sake. I am Brenwyr, Matriarch of the House Brandan.

-she looks at angel intensely. demanding an answer. even polite patterns are intense. EVERYTHING IS INTENSE-

 

"And I'm Angela Ziegler, and I'm a doctor, a healer. Probably not like you have where you're from. So you're a noblewoman of some kind?"

She rests her feet up on a footstool that somehow hadn't been there before, and sips at her drink.