It has been 1 year, 254 days, 3 hours, 45 minutes, and 6 seconds since you set foot on this goddamned meteor. Being the Knight of Time has not been a blessing recently.
You have watched every movie, read every book, and browsed all of the art anyone brought on. You have built Can Town with the Mayor. You have subjected Can Town to a full-scale disaster. You have rebuilt Can Town with a new Center for Meteorology and Disaster Watch. You have dated 3 people (as much as you can date on a lonely rock) and broken up with all three of them. You are tired. So. Very. Tired.
Sometimes you wonder if it's worth it. So what if you manage to jumpstart the null session? What are you going to do after that? You have posed these questions to everyone here. No one has had an answer.
So lately you've taken to sitting on a chair and drawing. Drawing the scene in front of you. Drawing your meteormates. Drawing the fossils you've alchemized. Drawing the people you miss. Drawing the people you don't miss. It's taken a lot of paper, and a lot of pencils. You're thinkimg about getting Rose to whip up some oil pastels for you, just to shake things up. You'll ask her later.
You've taken to bringing along an extra sketchbook into dream bubbles. You'll offer it to whoever comes along, and the two of you will sit and sketch each other. Not always, though. Sometimes one of you will draw something that's on their mind, but that's fine with you. You like seeing what they're thinking of.
It has been 1 year, 254 days, 3 hours, 46 minutes, and 17 seconds since you set foot on this goddamned meteor, and Karkat has decided to join you in your sketching chair. You offer him the extra sketchbook, which he accepts silently. Clearly something is wrong when Karkat Vantas is silent. But you soldier on with your drawing of a rad bird. It's got some sick plumage. It's one of your sillier drawings, you must admit.
Karkat clears his throat and practically throws the sketchbook at you, running out of the room immediately after. You inspect the afflicted area for wounds to blame Karkat for. You can't find any. So you look at his borrowed sketchbook.
MEET ME IN THE PIT, MOTHERFUCKER.
You have taken to calling a crater on the meteor The Pit. Until now, you hadn't realized anyone else was also calling it that. So you carefully replaced the wax paper in your sketchbook and stood up to follow Karkat to The Pit.
Upon reaching The Pit, you find a furiously blushing Karkat (and by "furiously", you mean he looks positively furious that he's embarassed) holding his hand out to you, like he's been waiting for you and it's your goddamned fault this is taking so long. So you take his hand calmly (like a cool guy) and let him pull you into The Pit, where he gestures to you to lay down.
You find it odd that he hasn't said a single word to you. You lie down next to him, and the two of you stay there, staring up at the occasionally interrupted blackness, for a few hours.
It has been 1 year, 254 days, 5 hours, 20 minutes, and 54 seconds since you set foot on this goddamned meteor, and the occasionally interrupted staleness of life on a giant hunk of rock has just been interrupted.