Alabaster: The Doomed Session - BACK FROM THE DEAD IN 2023

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WHAT THE HELL IS AN ALABASTER?

Alabaster: The Doomed Session is a horror story which started in 2011. It was once the longest Homestuck fan adventure; since, it was doubtlessly surpassed by other work. I started it as a hobby, to distract myself of more serious projects.
It is still in progress, close to completion! Join the ride if your heart is not too sensitive.





WARNINGS



FLASHING PICTURES
If you have epilepsy or photosensitivity,
some panels could cause health issues.
Please exercize necessary caution.

SHOCKING CONTENT
This story features disturbing material.
A full list of content warnings can be
perused below.

18+ only

CONTENT/TRIGGER WARNINGS:

SpoilerShow

- Violence
- Torture
- Mutilation
- Brainwashing
- Sexual harassment
- Sexual violence
- Parasitic pregnancy
- Death
- Body horror
- Mention of scatological details
- Slutshaming
- Bodyshaming
- Drugs
- Stalking

ALABASTER ON MSPFA

The main and true way to read all of Alabaster! Don't hesitate to visit it.






ALABASTER EXTRA MATERIAL
[concept arts, F.A.Q., fanarts, cosplays, etc]

[reserved]

Chapter 5





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In a half-immersed hive far away from the shores...



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A powerful, athletic, richly-clothed troll stands in her respiteblock. It just so happens that today, the 6th bilunar perigee of the 5th dark season's equinox, is the day of this young troll's destruction.



Enter name.



Your name is AUSIRA HEKATE.

Flowing through your veins is nearly the richest blood the hemospectrum has to offer, penultimate on the scale. As such, you are a SEA DWELLER, a sub-race of troll distinct from the commoners by mutation and habitat, a caste which rules over the entire species.

You bathe and gloat in the glory of your species, and you always make sure that in your surroundings, every cast behaves according to their rank and quality. From violet to burgundy, they are all parts of the beauty of the strongest space nation, the Empire bound to conquer every star and every planet.

You hold a fascination for FINE ARTS and all facets of CLASSIC AESTHETICS. It made you closer to some sensitive individual of the lowest blood than to other creatures of the highest castes, for often your fellow purple-veined companions can lack refinement. Particularly the fashion-endeared Vamuin Ikenga, whose antics are as demeaning as they are enraging.

You are especially skilled in PAINTING and POTTERY, but you train in all kinds of artistic activities. You also dive into HUNTING and SPORTS with a passion, making sure to offer the best performance possible in each physical field into which you venture.

Your trolltag is upbraidersRage and when.ever yʘu spe.ak, yʘu alwa.ys ma.ke a pʘint.



Ausira: Examine HORN ORNAMENTATION.



Your hive is full of refined decoration crafted by your Skylpe contact unsettlingMerchant. He often has trouble obtaining new material, so he cannot satisfy all of your requests... But a new party is coming. And after every party, the Artisan receives a delivery of new material.

You receive an invitation for every party, but you never come, for unsettlingMerchant is a rust blood and you do not endorse his delusions of grandeur.



Ausira: Examine EXQUISITE PAINTING.



Beauty... magnificence...

Your favorite painting is THE HIGHBLOOD FIGHTING HIS LUSUS TO THE DEATH, but you must admit DECAPITATEBALL CHAMPION FACING A MUSCLEBEAST is a close second.
You have countless other masterpieces, masterfully wrought scenes sublimating everything the Empire’s culture hold precious and sacred, but you spent a lot of money on those two and wasted numerous sleepless days contemplating them.

Ah... Decapitateball Champion...



Ausira: Look at the INFERIOR SURFACE DWELLER NEWS.





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Another noble framed by the populace. When will your people remember their values? When will such oppression of the rich be stopped?



Why look at INFERIOR SURFACE DWELLER NEWS when you can read SUPERIOR SEA DWELLER NEWS.



Finally some quality information.



Exposit on the HEIR APPARENT.



You personally do not like this prominent figure of the Nautical Aristocracy. It is rumoured that Feferi Peixes is reluctant towards the most fundamental aspects of politics, such as culling, large industrial companies, leaving the mother planet to children, culling, bloodism, culling, military conquest, culling and culling.

Such a feeble-minded individual cannot possibly hope to lead the Empire to further glory.

If she ever reaches the throne, you and the rest of the nobility will support her, of course. No matter her political divergences with the current statu quo, your loyalty cannot be questioned. You will surround her. Help to relieve her thinkpan from the most prosaic matters, with delicious drugs or other distractions worthy of her rank. Gentry will not let vulgar judgments and legislation sully the Heir’s hands, and her every order will be interpreted judiciously.



Sixth troll.



You cannot be PAST SECTRA because she's taking pics for Ophiuchus the Great!



Be the child.



You cannot be the child because the child is a canon character. Even an entire sweep before his adventure truly begins, he is outside your control.

This anonymous wriggler may possibly have a partially non-tragical life one of these days, after all.



Ausira: Hear noise.



Well, what is this? It seems something crashed on the roof.

What will you do?

(It's here!!!)

Ausira: Ready your strife specibus, but listen for movement before checking the roof. Ignore the clown messaging you.

Oh. My. God.

I just read this whole thing in the past 4 days or so. Just... wow.

What have you created? It's so terrifying, so tragic, and yet so beautiful.

Oh, right, um.

> Ausira: Bring your computer with you. Somehow. Surely you have extras lying around?

Oh. My. God.

I just read this whole thing in the past 4 days or so. Just... wow.

What have you created? It's so terrifying, so tragic, and yet so beautiful.

Oh, right, um.

> Ausira: Bring your computer with you. Somehow. Surely you have extras lying around?

(Right?? I've been following this for years, I can only imagine what it's like to experience the whole thing over the course of a few days!)

Well, this is one fanventure I did not expect to see back from the dead. And on a nice forum, too. Hello to any regular reading this. :)

(Right?? I've been following this for years, I can only imagine what it's like to experience the whole thing over the course of a few days!)

The experience is already approaching a one year old, but I still remember it as emotionally draining and extremely satisfying with sudden "what, it's on hiatus!?" when I reached the current scene.

Ausira: Send the caller a quick curt message that you're busy and check the disturbance immediately. You can't leave dead musclebeasts or idiots who can't pilot just rotting on your roof.

Ausira: Ready your strife specibus

MIRROR UPDATE: https://mspfa.com/?s=236&p=2428



Ausira: Ignore the clown messaging you.



It is not the most difficult mission. This terrible excuse for a highblood has been harassing you for months, trying to convince you he is fit to become your fated kismesis.

Well, he is a Decapitateball pro player. But you know he has no respect for the fine tradition of the sports, and merely started in order to seduce men and women of nobility.



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You despise him.



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NO. Not in such a way. Never in such a way.



Ausira: Have your lusus handle it.



You send your trusted caretaker to look after it. Without a doubt it is some kind of dangerous troll or animal - this is Alternia after all.





Ausira: Wait.



After half an hour, your lusus is not back from the roof.



Ausira: Grab your LASER CROSSBOW.



Your PRIORITY QUEUE flawlessly delivers your BATTLE ARMOR while your CROSSBOWKIND jumps right into your hand.



Ausira: Investigate roof. Whoever would be so crass as to BREAK (into) your elegant hivestructure?



What is this grotesque contraption ?

> Rise, rise from your grave once again you beautifull ever undying if maybe slightly rotting narrative !

>Well, were it not for the fact that all adults are hundreds of light sweeps away subjugating and destroying inferior species, you'd almost think a fighterp from her imperial condescendation navy just crashlanded on your roof.

Well this is the last thing I expected to rise from the dead.

Sometimes miracles happen. ;)

Ausira: Approach object with caution.






You walk towards the vehicle, holding your crossbow firmly, attentive to every sound.

This is not an ordinary kind of flying machine. It lacks shielding, spikes, and this weird overall structure... a trident?

Were it not for the fact that all adults are hundreds of light sweeps away subjugating and destroying inferior species, you would almost think a fighter from Her Imperious Condescension's Navy just crashlanded on your roof.

>Where is your lusus ?

> More importantly, where is the occupant? Investigate cockpit.

Ausira: Look for signs of your lusus.



It is nowhere to be seen; it is not significantly disturbing, though, for you know your lusus to often dive in the sea without warning. Plus, with its high-speed forelimbs, it is perfectly able to dismember even the strongest opponent.



Ausira: More importantly, where is the occupant? Investigate cockpit.



Nothing except an absurd interface.



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You discover with increasing stupefaction there is neither holograms or flight AI, only a flat screen and a bat-shaped wheel.

Furthermore, there are foot pedals mounted on clockwork, and the entire cockpit is extra-padded, as if it was built to accommodate a pilot with a lot of appendages.

What is this lowtech piece of junk?

maybe an ALIEN built it. a HOT alien

Would you prefer to:
1 - Stay a little more on the roof
2 - Get back inside
3 - Activate your deathtraps
4 - Get back inside THEN activate your deathtraps
5 - Other

You are a proud alternian noble and whoever piloted this is clearly either a primitive or a lowblood. Let the hunt begin !

activate deathtraps NOW

ALABASTER: THE DOOMED SESSION BACK


Surprise! Alabaster is back. I restored it and started writing/drawing again the story.

In order to celebrate its return, I started by offering an exceptional 100-panels update, wrapping up the Ausira flashback and advancing further.

LINK TO THE ADVENTURE UNTIL THE POINT OF COSMIC PAUSE: https://mspfa.com/?s=236&p=2571


As from now, I'm taking text commands for the adventure and F.A.Q. questions again. You can send them on this thread or on my Tumblr blog.
Also, Alabaster now has a Discord too!

Stay tuned for the next episodes and the end of the story! Have a nice read! :)

Ausira: Get back inside.





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Active your deathtraps





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Continue to ignore righteousPornstar.





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Ausira: Tie up enemy lusus.



So this parent isn't staying in its hive, it is accompanying its child on escapades. This reeks of an adult partnership, lusus and troll working with each other.



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You are not facing a kid. You are facing a grown-up about to join the army, or maybe one of the few full-blown adults who manage to avoid conscriptions for sweeps.

Sometimes these deviants can survive on Alternia for sweeps. The drones or the young troll cops always find them in the end, though.



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You will speed up the process.



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Your laser doors are programmed to let you and your lusus through. And only the two of you.

It makes the hunting of trespassers even easier.



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Hmmm. No one so far.



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All laser doors open slowly; you calibrated them at the best speed for maximum theatrical effects.



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You keep progressing in both curved and straight corridors. Nothing.

You should have checked on the cameras.



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You're just BOUND to find the intruder in the last room you visit.



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This is your POTTERY AND CERAMIC WORKSHOP.

This passion helps you to alleviate your constant urges of violence and genocide.



Ausira: Check oven.



Weird. The kiln is turned on.

You did not remember you had a piece in the works.



Ausira: Be patient.



You wait. The kiln is too hot to be opened right now, even for your resilient chitinous troll skin.

You spend five minutes nibbling on some expensive high-blood biscuits.

You find solace in your sea-dweller patience.



Ausira: Look at WORLD MAP.



Aaah... Your world. ALTERNIA. And its major continents, including the proud NACIREMA. You live in the Tbilisic Ocean, but most of your jurisdiction lies in Nacireman lands.



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The WORLD MAP, invaluable legacy of countless generations of highblood, is adorned in ceremonial WORDS OF WISDOM and presented here within a framing of ELEGANT FLYING LUSII and MAJESTIC MUSCLEBEAST TRIUMVIRATES.

From your personal hunting experience, musclebeasts have way more mundane shapes - the usual, a thin, rigid stallion towering over two round beasts -, but they are traditionally represented in Alternian high-caste art following unrealistic and exotic codes. And your decoration is nothing if not traditional.

You spend six full minutes contemplating the map.



Ausira: Look at TRAGICAL PRINT.



This is a representation from the classical demon tale THE BEAUTY AND THE MUSCLEBEAST. More specifically, the ending, where, after welcoming the restless souls of the Musclebeast’s victims, his loyal centaur lusus has to put down the cursed prince.

You spend two minutes meditating over the tale.



Ausira: Open oven.



The kiln will still be impossibly hot, but you need to verify.



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You find the consumed, shrunk, curled up remains of your mantis shrimp custodian. One head and one claw removed. Everything else turned to charred black leaves of fragility.

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Someone is gonna PAY for this.

You're gonna torture both the lusus and its owner forever.



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You will find the intruder.



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This is your TROPHY ROOM.



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Unsurprisingly, ultimately, the plic-ploc sound was coming from your lusus's head.

But where is the claw?



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Ausira: Meet Ophiuchus the Great.





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The claw.







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This is nothing. You're a primed hunter. You're a primed warrior. You're a primed killer.



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You will make short work of this troll.



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The door doesn't open quickly enough.



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- NΩ, nΩ. YΩʉ need tΩ lie dΩwn.



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- What a terrible accident.



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- DΩn’t wΩrry. YΩʉ are in my respiteblΩck.



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- I'll take gΩΩd care Ωf yΩʉ.



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- DΩ nΩt bΩther trying tΩ mΩve. YΩʉ are drʉgged, tied dΩwn, I pʉt wedges tΩ blΩck yΩʉr trΩchanters and needles in yΩʉr twisting spine lʉmp.



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- FΩr yΩur Ωwn gΩΩd, Ωf cΩʉrse.



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- Wake ʉp! I cΩme bearing stupendΩʉs infΩrmatiΩn...



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- I have lΩΩked in the sea, in the sky, in entrails Ωf fallen cΩmrades. I nΩw knΩw whΩ yΩʉ are.



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- YΩʉ are the reincarnatiΩn Ωf a trΩll whΩ jʉst died! That's why I cΩʉldn't pinpΩint yΩʉ befΩre... I did nΩt knΩw Aradia was gΩing tΩ meet her end.



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- YΩʉ dΩn't remember? Well, dΩn't wΩrry.



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- I shall prΩvide help with sΩme extensive surgery.



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- We will need tΩ take care Ωf thΩse fins. MΩst impΩrtantly. Aradia, yΩʉ are nΩt a sea dweller. YΩʉ never were.



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- YΩʉ will be the fΩcus. YΩʉ will gather the sΩʉl and energy Ωf all Ωf the Main Twelve.



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The pain is without comparison.

The anaesthetics fail to silence the sensations



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Mercifully, your consciousness drifts away.



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And so do your memories and personality.


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[ Theme: Vangelis - Titans ]





Renart: Land.



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Be the chapter character.





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In a derelict hive far away from the shore…



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A broken troll stands in their respiteblock. Their skin is deeply marked by scars of unknown origin. They do not remember much of it.

They know who disfigured them, and dealt with the problem in a satisfying if unfinished fashion. But they do not remember the details of her past ordeal, only an eternity of pain, mercifully blurred and drowned in overcoming indifference.

What will the name of this sad creature be?



Enter name.



That is NOT YOUR NAME.



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That is NOT YOUR NAME EITHER.

It has a nice ring to it, though.

GOTH CULTURE never really caught up on Alternia.

The main reason is trolls are a species living at night, almost entirely dressed in black, gifted with elegant and sharpened horns and teeth, having no problem with murder, suffering and elimination of the weak, subconsciously poisoned by terrible nightmares.

In such conditions, it is about as interesting to a young troll to turn their goth feelings on than to a British teenager to have tea with a bowler hat on.

But if GOTH CULTURE had caught up on Alternia, you would clearly be part of it. Two-timing it with EMO CULTURE behind GOTH CULTURE’s back, too.



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Your name is SALLIE. Trolls usually have a last name, but you forgot yours. Actually, you also forgot your first name. "Sallie" is just an useful nickname, with alien connotations fitting the discrepancy between you and the various delusions people mistake with daily joys.

You have a variety of DISINTERESTS, including LIGHT NOVELS filled to the brim with all kinds of monsters, TRADITIONAL THEATER, TROLL PHOTOGRAPHY, ULTRAVIOLENT KISMESIS PORN, PHILATELY and AMATEUR SURGERY. Often these disinterests intersect in colorful ways.

Your trolltag is undesiredRecollection and you sp≠ak i-n a mann≠r indicativ≠ o-f a fractur≠d and r≠stitch≠d p≠-rsonality.

What will you do?