==> You are THE OFFICE OF PARADOXES.
Four Operators, one room, endless paperwork. The node hums with static logic and post-it notes of doomed timelines.
Inside the cramped yet infinite office:
- Ultimate Zen leans over a chalkboard scrawled with math and eldritch doodles, balancing a teacup in one hand.
- Uncle Sweetbro is using a broken paper shredder as a footrest, muttering about “new synergy paradigms.”
- Gamzee H slouches across three chairs, sipping from a Faygo-stained coffee mug while scrolling through five terminals at once.
- Mewlinda Nepeta prowls between cabinets, batting at errant memos and rearranging them by scent rather than file code.
The air smells faintly of ozone, copier toner, and paradoxical citrus. A vending machine labelled “LOST & SNACKED” rattles ominously in the corner.
A filing cabinet with infinite drawers waits, slightly ajar, as if listening.
A giant window looks out onto nothing — pure black Furthest Ring dotted with faint neon threads.
A battered typewriter on the central desk clacks by itself:
T
H
E
It pauses, waiting for more.
What Will You Do?
The Real Homestuck?
That's the friends we made along the way!
mIrAcLeS ):0)
https://www.reddit.com/r/TheRealHomestuck/s/2gCp8ku8rH
TYPEWRITER: Spontaneously generate the complete works of WILLIAM SHAKESPEAR.
"This is StuckUnderHell, nor am I out of it." - Mephistopheles
TYPEWRITER: Spontaneously generate the complete works of WILLIAM SHAKESPEAR
The battered typewriter rattles like a jar of dice on a marble floor. Keys hammer in impossible patterns. Papers flutter up from the bin, twist mid-air, and slot themselves neatly into place. In seconds, the desk is stacked with thick, leather-bound tomes stamped with a gold sigil:
“THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM SHAKESPEAR (PARADOX EDITION)”
You flip one open — the words are all there, but slightly wrong, sentences bending around themselves, characters appearing in scenes they shouldn’t. Hamlet monologues in binary. Juliet speaks in hexadecimal. The stage directions hum with static and misplaced references to Skaia and Grist caches.
Mewlinda Nepeta tilts her head at the stack, sniffing the air. “Smells like Elizabethan paradox.” Ultimate Zen adjusts his glasses, watching the lines rearrange. Uncle Sweetbro pokes a page and it squeals. Gamzee H chuckles under his breath, scrolling something on one of his monitors.
The Office falls quiet for a beat, the weight of a million misquoted iambs filling the room.
What Will You Do?
The Real Homestuck?
That's the friends we made along the way!
mIrAcLeS ):0)
https://www.reddit.com/r/TheRealHomestuck/s/2gCp8ku8rH
ULTIMATE ZEN: draw pentagram on floor.
"This is StuckUnderHell, nor am I out of it." - Mephistopheles
ULTIMATE ZEN: draw pentagram on floor.
Ultimate Zen kneels on the worn tile between filing cabinets, chalk in hand. His teacup hovers in the air beside him, perfectly balanced. With slow, deliberate strokes he sketches a five-pointed star laced with equations, glyphs, and strange numbers that loop back into themselves. Each line of chalk pulses faintly, humming with low static like a dial-tone from nowhere.
The vending machine flickers. The infinite filing cabinet shudders as though something is crawling just behind the drawers. Mewlinda Nepeta’s ears twitch. Uncle Sweetbro mutters “oh no bro we’re doing the star thing again” and scoots his chair back.
Gamzee H tilts his head, grinning lazily, Faygo mug in hand. “Y’all ever just vibe so hard you break the floor? Honk."
The pentagram glows a faint violet. Tiny motes of text lift from the chalk, letters breaking apart, rearranging in midair.
What Will You Do?
The Real Homestuck?
That's the friends we made along the way!
mIrAcLeS ):0)
https://www.reddit.com/r/TheRealHomestuck/s/2gCp8ku8rH