(Author's Note: Hello y'all, Louie Carolole's older sib here. Louie's unfortunately suffering burnout at the moment, but he was real insistent I help him crank something out for this group. I feel he's grown attached to the community, and all that. Anyway, I think it's nice he finally found a good place to express his imagination, and I've tried to be supportive of him the last few years. Wouldn't be a good sister if I didn't, eh?

So. This bit of writing's technically from me, I guess, so I'll change up the name a bit to suit. Ideas are from him, but actual translation into understandable words are from me. To be honest, though, the only knowledge I have of this canon is from the wiki, so don't expect characterization masterpieces.

So yeah. Hope you understand, and I hope y'all enjoy the piece.

-Lou Carole)

(Disclaimer - Homestuck, Y'gatha Mesome's home continuum, belongs to Andrew Hussie. Y'gatha herself belongs to that one aspiring artist on the wiki's Discussion page, whoever owns the throwaway account of No1r413. World One belongs to whoever or whatever created World One, a topic that is still hotly debated by World One-ers to this day. The PPC belongs to Acacia and Jay, wherever they are. The Emergencies referenced belong to those who created them in the first place, though I'm not entirely certain who they were. Pokemon belongs to Gamefreak and I guess Nintendo. The Cthulhu Mythos belong to H. P. Lovecraft. I only own the characters of the half-flesh robot, Mr. Matterhorn, and Torchic 04.)

(Content Warning: Contains cooking with fire, chopping with knives, zombie-robots, metal limbs popping off, a reference to a very Not-Safe-For-FourMoons character, large Homestuck bug aliens, and ligma.)

"Pew pew pew! Y'gatha Mesome obliterates your entire fun sucking wet blanket continuum with her muse of all aspects powers!"

Y'gatha Mesome grinned, baring glitter-caked fangs at the two unfortunate souls in front of her. Her insectoid wings buzzed loudly as she hovered ominously in mid-air, and her pupiless eyes glowed with an ever-changing array of light. The raw power of a Muse of All Aspects flickered around her claws, and her smile grew wider as she thought of the fear she was causing the sad mooks in front of her.

Neither soul gave her more than a sidelong glance.

The older one, an overweight, elderly man with more wrinkles than a crumpled tuxedo in a dog park and a graying beard flecked with unidentifiable meat, raised an eyebrow.

Y'gatha stared at the two as they shuffled around their strange little working area, pulling glittering meat from wooden boxes and moving them around and chopping and slicing and generally doing Cafeteria work without a care in the world. This didn't please Y'gatha very much, and she cleared her throat.

"Pew pew pew-"

The older worker slammed the cleaver they were slicing with down with a loud thunk and spun his head around to stare at her.

"What is it?" he asked."Surely you can wait a little, eh? Souffle won't be ready ‘til lunch hour."

The younger worker, a scrawny but comically top-heavy woman with metal where some of her skin should've been and rotting, sinewy muscle where the metal wasn't, poured a few drops of Bleeprin onto a tray of meatloaf and started spreading it with a rubber spatula.

"To be fair, lunch break doesn't really... exist around here. Time is weird, and all that." She idly scratched the pair of dry, raggedy rodent ears on the top of her head with a metallic claw. "But still. Main courses aren't ready yet."

Y'gatha looked from one worker to the other, slowly feeling like she wasn't being taken seriously.

"Y'gatha is not here for souffle," she proclaimed, drawing herself up. "Y'gatha is here to obliterate your entire fun sucking wet-blanket-"

The older worker clicked his tongue loudly. "You said that already," he remarked, chopping at a stick of butter. "Can't go attracting the ire of the Department of Redundancy Department now, eh? Ho! Ho! Ho!"

"Besides," added the younger worker. "You're already a bit iffy on that front to begin with. There's been a lot of people wanting to destroy HQ before, from what I've heard, so this almost seems repetitive." She picked up the tray of meatloaf and walked over to the oven.

The older man tilted up his chopping board, sliding his sliced butter into a small bowl, chuckling as he did so. "I'll say. But hey, at least it's something, eh? Normally work's boring as all get-out, so anything's a nice change of pace." He picked up a few shakers of salt, pepper, and black glitter and began sprinkling it into the bowl.

He adjusted his glasses and turned to the other worker. "Take for example, Slorp. You remember Slorp?"

"Slorp?" hissed Y'gatha, striding forward and standing in front of the old man, arms crossed. "What is Slorp, and what does it have to do with Y'gatha's story?"

The younger worker slid her tray of meatloaf into the oven and slammed the door shut, before tapping away at the timer. A whip-like, hairless tail awkwardly poking out from the back of her uniform twitched slightly, sending flakes of dead skin floating to the ground. "Don't remind me," she said. "I was cleaning meat out of my wires for weeks after that."

"And we were cleaning your limbs out of the meat! Ho! Ho! Ho!" The man casually sidestepped Y'gatha and opened up a drawer.

"...Yeah, and that. Made the cleaning a lot harder than it should have been, let me tell you that."

"Y'gatha-" Y'gatha tried again, but neither Cafeteria worker seemed to be listening anymore.

The older agent chuckled again as he pulled out a whisk and began churning the spiced butter. "But believe me, it was worse before then. Were you there when the Macroviruses showed up?"

The younger agent blinked, stepping away from the oven. "Um. I don't think so, no." She headed over to a large refrigerator, pulling out a few containers.

The old man nodded. "Well, believe me, it was a wild time back there! Ho! Ho! Ho! Giant bugs, sister. Giant bugs. They crawled into people and did giant evil bug things and generally made a mess of everything. Lots of chaps died." He pulled out a jar of sugar and began heavily coating the top of the butter mix.

"I almost died!" he continued with a grin. "Ho! Ho! Ho! And when that was over, the Sue Factories invaded!"

He put the jar (which for whatever reason had transformed into a bag) of sugar to the side and picked up a bird-creature passing by. "Oh, hello there. Torchic, Ember." The small orange chicken-thing in his hands obliged, shooting a burst of fire at the sugared butter.

The rat-like younger worker blinked again. "Ah, was that when-" She shot a sidelong glance at Y'gatha. "Erm. Hey, how good are you at keeping secrets?"

Y'gatha scowled. "Y'gatha will obliterate-"

"Yeah, good enough." She turned back to the old man. "That's when I started working here, right?"

The man laughed. "Ho! Ho! Ho! In a sense, yes." He turned to Y'gatha with a conspiratory grin. "One of the Sues there, she was. Don't even know if she ever got sent for a de-glittering session or nothing. Ho!"

The Torchic in his hands started squirming a bit, so the man put it down. "Ah, yes. Good Pokey-man." He patted it lightly on the head. "Good work, here."

The Torchic took a moment to proudly puff out its chest, displaying the tiny bird-sized pore fungus flash patch taped to its feathers, before spinning on its heel(?) and trotting off.

The younger woman pursed her lips. "Right. Not that it matters, of course. Nobody seemed to mind me working here, and I'm frankly fine with it. Better than soldiering, at least. Limbs come off less frequently, too." As if on cue, on of her arms popped off with a metallic click and fell to the floor in a sad heap of rotten flesh and rusted metal.

"...Screw you, Ironic Overpower."

"Ho! Ho! Ho!" boomed the old man, adjusting his inch-thick glasses.

"Excuse me, Y'gatha is still important!" shouted Y'gatha. Neither agent reacted.

The younger worker bent over and picked up her disembodied arm before roughly jamming it back in place with a sound that was a combination of wet meat squelching and the hair-raising screech of metal on metal. "Anyway," she said. "Could you pass the sugar?"

"Ah, sure. Sorry about that, I'm just finding everything dreadfully funny today. Ho! Ho!" The man picked up the jar of sugar and tossed it across the kitchen. It nearly clocked Y'gatha in the head, and she ducked away, hissing.

"Thanks." The younger woman caught the jar in one metal claw and set it next to a carton of milk and a packet of table salt.

"So," she added, pouring some sugar into a bowl. "Y'gatha, was it? What're you here for, again? Where're you from?"

Y'gatha pulled herself fully upright. "Y'gatha is from the Discussion page on your Wiki, here to obliterate your entire fun sucking wet blanket continuum! You utter buffoons do not even know you are but puppets under control of-"

She was interrupted by a glob of butter being flung onto her face.

"Nope!" the old man said with a grin, swinging a large measuring spoon by his side as Y'gatha hissed and began wiping off her face with her claws. "Not doing another Swan Song, thank you very much. One was enough!"

"Don't know what you're talking about, but I fully agree. Fourth wall breaking's a real touchy subject, especially here of all places." The younger worker mixed in the packet of table salt and a pinch of cornstarch, before unscrewing the lid of the milk carton. "So. Y'gatha. Before you go to try and blow up the place, how about you get to know the people a little? I promise they're a lot better than they seem at first."

The old man chuckled. "Believe me, I know. Ho! Ho! Ho!"

The woman continued. "It doesn't have to start with violence, you know? Talk to people. Explore the place. Maybe take a look around before you raze it all to the ground. Besides, who knows? You might even wind up attached a bit."

"Hold up, where are our manners?" said the old man. "We never even introduced ourselves!" His gray, raggedy beard twitched as he grinned, and he held out a glitter-and-blood-stained hand. "Ligma B. Matterhorn, at your service! Well met, and ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn! Ho! Ho! Ho!"

He gestured over to the younger worker, who had gone to mixing at her bowl of ambiguously-edible Cafeteria slime. "The anime ratgirl over there is Koratta Tesso. Don't mind the rusty metal bits and rotting flesh, she still has more soul than a good amount of folk I've met here! Ho! Ho! Ho!"

"Lies and slander," Tesso deadpanned, pouring the off-white slime from the bowl into a saucepan. "Anyways, welcome to the PPC, enjoy your stay while you can."

Y'gatha blinked, horribly confused and feeling angry. These idiots weren't giving her the attention she craved, the respect she deserved with her powers, they weren't scared or-

Of course.

They weren't Agents, that had to be the issue! The conflict between Sues and the PPC always seemed to revolve around Assassins and Disentanglers and Floaters and the like, not background extras like Cafeteria workers.

Y'gatha grinned. It was time to find some real targets.

The old man raised an eyebrow at her. "So. You staying for the souffle, or..."

Y'gatha cackled, wings buzzing louder as she raised herself off the ground. "No souffle!" she screeched. "Y'gatha is off! Y'gatha is powerful! Y'gatha will be respected!"

In an act of spite, she raised a hand and fired a bolt of multicolored energy into the kitchen, blasting several prepared dishes and containers of ingredients to pieces. She cackled again as her eyes glowed bright, lighting up the walls like a disco ball.

"Pew pew pew! Y'gatha Mesome obliterates your entire fun sucking wet blanket continuum with her muse of all aspects powers!" she roared one last time, before blasting out of the kitchen, out of the Cafeteria, into the halls of HQ, leaving behind only the echoing of her mad laughter.

The two cafeteria workers stood in silence for a bit.

"Well, then," the older one said, shrugging. "Back to work, I suppose." He picked up his bowl of freshly-made butter-and-glitter crème brûlée and put it to the side.

The younger one sighed. "She didn't even say goodbye." Her tail flicked in agitation, and a few more flakes of dead skin scattered off. "Rather rude, even for a Sue."

"Eh." The old man shrugged and pulled out a jar of Bleeprin, scattering some pills into a measuring spoon. "Could've been worse, as far as big dramatic shenanigans go. Could've been another Key to Canon thing, or another Swan Song." He tumbled the pills into a small baking tray and dumped a tub of cookie dough on top of them, ignoring the splotches that flew out of the pan and into his beard.

"I... I don't know what those are, but alright." The younger worker bent down and started picking up the broken glass and shards of metal scattered from Y'gatha's energy blast. She looked up at the old man. "Anyways, should we just pretend this never happened?"

"I have no idea what you could possibly be talking about. Ho! Ho! Ho!"

(Author's Note: Once again, we return. Turns out? Bro really liked what I wrote and demanded to help make ideas for more. I supposed it couldn't hurt- I never did like leaving things on a cliffhanger.)

(Disclaimer: The Dojo and matching manager belong to Soap and Alleb. Luxury belongs to Jay and Acacia. Melpomene was originally written by Tawaki, ended up on the "up for adoption" page, and I don't know whether this disclaimer holds up as strongly for them anymore. Doesn't hurt to put it down, anyway.)

(Content Warning: Contains uncomfortably-worded threats [blaming Louie for those ones], innuendo, and a singular chancla.)

Y'gatha glided down the hallway, scanning back and forth. She knew - she wasn't sure how, she just knew - that where the Generic grey halls were, there'd eventually be Agents. It was only a matter of time.

She turned a corner and came across a small doorway labeled as a Dojo. Grinning to herself, knowing there must be Agents in this place of violence and feeling this was as good a place as any to start her line on conquest, she looked in and opened her mouth to scream her signature chant.

"Pew pew pew! Y'gatha Mesome obli-"

A few seconds later, Y'gatha found herself retreating down the halls under the unrelenting, painful blows of the Dojo's owner. To be more specific, the chancla she wielded with force and finesse greater than anyone, glittery Warrior Sues and power fantasy Stus included, Y'gatha had ever known.

Y'gatha fled, her wings carrying her faster than they ever had in her life as the short, deadly woman's yelling and cursing faded away into the distance. She turned another corner, barely making the turn with her speed-

And came barreling into another person, sending them both collapsed on the floor in a pile.

Y'gatha took a moment to regain her vision, but it was then she noticed the person she was pinning to the ground.

She was a blonde, ditzy looking woman with a short ponytail and the sort of vacant expression one normally had after one-too-many shots of dogwater mead. She also happened to be wearing clothes that showed what Y'gatha thought, even by her own glittery standards, was far too much skin for the late morning.

But the most important detail was the badge. Emblazoned with a three-eyed rubber duck, Y'gatha remembered the symbol from her Factory training. A Bad Slasher - which meant an Agent. This was what she had been waiting for.

"Oh, hello there!" the woman chirped, somehow unfazed by Y'gatha, destroyer of fun sucking wet blanket continuums, pinning her to the floor. "This wouldn't be a preposition, would it?"

Y'gatha stared for a split second, completely stunned by the complete lack of fear response.

"Excuse me?" she finally said.

The blonde smiled and tilted her head coyly, fluttering her eyelids. "Last time I checked, usually the pinning comes after the clothes come off. Did you miss a step?"

Y'gatha stared at the woman for a moment.

Five seconds later, Y'gatha was blasting away down the corridors again, as far away from this mad Agent as she could get.

She needed to find someone better to get a reaction from. Someone volatile, defensive, easy to rile up, she needed-

There.

Y'gatha threw herself to a stop in front of the wandering Agent, grabbed her shoulders, and screamed:

"PEW PEW PEW! Y'GATHA MESOME OBLITERATES YOUR ENTIRE FUN SUCKING WET BLANKET CONTINUUM WITH HER MUSE OF ALL ASPECTS POWERS!!!1!"

The Agent, a tall anthropomorphic tabby cat, looked startled for a half second before composing her expression. She slowly, meaningfully gripped her hands on Y'gatha's shoulders, clenching hard enough that the Suvian actually winced, and pushed her away.

"Y'gatha Mesome," she said, spitting each word out like she was trying to kill Y'gatha with sheer speaking force alone, "Needs to get some help, preferably away from here, before someone drives several unmentionables up her orifices."

Y'gatha grinned inwardly. Finally she managed to get a rise out of someone! She leered and leaned forward.

"Y'gatha destroys-"

Two seconds later, Y'gatha was on the ground, twitching in pain and desperately trying to keep from screaming.

"I did warn you," the Agent said, casually waving the ludicrously high-tech screwdriver she'd just used as an improvised taser. "I don't have the time nor patience to deal with yet another sack of furless flesh gone off the deep end."

She put away the tool and strode on past Y'gatha's prone form, continuing down the halls. Then she paused.

"If you want someone who'll actually treat your attention-seeking babbling with the respect it deserves, go find a Flower. It'll be cleaner that way; I'm sure the Janitorial Division has enough to mop up as it is."

She let out a quiet chuckle, then disappeared around the corner.

It took Y'gatha several ensuing minutes for the convulsions to stop. When they finally did, she pulled herself up, one thought echoing through her head:

The Flowers. Of course.

She staggered against a wall for support, wincing as another quick aftershock ran through her exoskeleton. Even through the pain, she found herself grinning again.

It was time to confront the final boss.