JOHN: can i do a rose summoning too, or does it only work if i'm a whiny alien space squid?
ROSE: I don't see why not.
ROSE: Although you'd be handicapped by not possessing a veritably infinite number of attached limbs and assorted appendages with which to paint the occult geometry of my summoning circle.
ROSE: Or the ink sacs to produce the accursed pigments necessary.
ROSE: These are to be injected into the bones of your most fervent worshipers in place of their marrow, leeching their life and their flesh into the poison.
ROSE: And then, once their torment of eons has quieted, you may crack open their skeletal remains and use the bone shards and still flowing ichor as pen nib and reservoir.
ROSE: Some of the more subtle intricacies of the design might be overlooked otherwise, I can only imagine.
JOHN: i wouldn't worry about any of that. my drawing skills are way too shitty for it to matter very much.
JOHN: besides, there are a whole lot of my arms floating around in a bunch of places, and i can make wind tendrils and stuff? doesn't that count?
ROSE: A fair point.
ROSE: When I am asked about eldritch gods dwelling outside the bounds of reality, 'John Egbert' shall henceforth be the first name to jump from my lips.
JOHN: as it should.
JOHN: i'm definitely the best one, compared to those other guys.
ROSE: Yes, you are.
JOHN: okay, so after i draw all the skeleton math, do i have to put anything inside it?
ROSE: Like what?
JOHN: like... a spooky candle?
JOHN: that's what the witches in the craft movie had when they decided to summon a god.
ROSE: I can hardly allow my invocation ritual to be outclassed by Manon.
ROSE: One spooky candle is required at each point of the design, and every one must have a different novelty scent.
JOHN: so when i light them up, everything will smell like chocolate, and flower petals, and. uh. marshmallows?
ROSE: And gummy bears.
ROSE: And the subtle ozone tang of a basement filled with strange electronics.
JOHN: shaving cream.
JOHN: whipped cream that has been replaced inside a shaving cream bottle as a funny prank, which is a lot harder than it sounds actually.
JOHN: freshly baked cake.
ROSE: Store bought cake placed inside the oven to warm on a rustically pre-worn tin, and then forgotten until the fire alarm sets off.
ROSE: A kitchen recently freshened by the liberal use of a New Car Smell aerosol spray.
JOHN: that oil on my planet that got into every thing.
ROSE: The ocean mist.
JOHN: jade after she has just finished going swimming. :/
ROSE: The trolls' suspiciously rainbow hued coffee.
JOHN: trolls in general.
ROSE: Trolls in general, but each assigned their own candle so we can pad out the numbers.
JOHN: and because there are certain troll scented candles you would want to sniff out more than the others?
ROSE: I'm not going to comment on that, and you can't make me.
ROSE: Plastic novelty vomit, accidentally eaten and subsequently choked up by a household pet.
JOHN: a dudely man who has been sitting on a horse for waaay too long.
JOHN: apple juice.
ROSE: Howie Mandel's piss, replaced inside an apple juice bottle as a funny prank?
JOHN: hahaha, nice one.
JOHN: hey, how many corners does your magic geometry drawing have anyway?
ROSE: A lot.
ROSE: As I said, it is a ritual designed for the excessively tentacled.
JOHN: at least i can use my windy powers to help set all of them out, as long as i am careful not to extinguish them after the ritual starts.
JOHN: and to keep from having to smell that many different fake things at the same time, because i am imagining that it smells like a giant pile of random garbage that someone has set on fire.
ROSE: Then you'd be cheating the point of the ritual.
ROSE: Do you really expect to summon a god without SOME personal sacrifice involved?
ROSE: The loss of your ability to ever again enjoy your olfactory senses is getting off easy, really.
JOHN: okay fine, then i will use my cool powers to make things extra stinky, just for you.
ROSE: I appreciate it.
JOHN: what else should i bring?
ROSE: What do you think?
ROSE: How would you design a ritual to lure me?
JOHN: maybe a sweater.
JOHN: and it was originally bought from a fancy expensive store, but i have to borrow it to unravel it and then knit it back into the exact same sweater, to see if its owner notices.
ROSE: She noticed, John.
ROSE: That was one of my earlier masterpieces, from before I completely figured out how many armholes humans generally require.
ROSE: The point wasn't to see if she noticed, it was to see if she would admit to having noticed.
ROSE: She wore it to a physics convention in Milwaukee.
ROSE: Where she contrived to get herself drunkenly photographed on the front page of the local gazette, which she put in a huge gold filigreed frame and posted in the room with the "fun" centrifuges.
ROSE: It had the neck hole and one of the arms close enough to swapped that she was wearing it as a shirt with one short sleeve and a ridiculously oversized turtleneck.
ROSE: There were holes I'd revisited on finishing and tied off with dental floss.
ROSE: It wasn't meant to be worn in public.
JOHN: i bet your mom loved it.
JOHN: in a totally sincere, non-ironic way, and she wanted to show off how proud of you she was.
JOHN: roxy would have.
ROSE: Yeah, probably.
ROSE: I'm going to have to sit down at some point and recontextualize the bulk of my childhood memories.
ROSE: But for now, let's just put the garbage sweater in the garbage candle smog where we don't have to look at it.
ROSE: What else will be joining it?
JOHN: um... how about.....
JOHN: a book?
ROSE: Good call.
ROSE: No doubt a tome of dreadest prophesy.
ROSE: Not a fabled text, but one whispered of only in the isolation of silent crevasses by the strongest and most learned of the elder ones, as all others would have their aural sponge clots dissolved away by the brush of its merest rumour.
JOHN: no, i was thinking more like one of karkat's dumb romances you kept stealing from him.
ROSE: Did Karkat tattle on me? That snitch.
ROSE: Also... Damn.
ROSE: That might actually work.
JOHN: now i know the secret!
JOHN: i can finally talk to you whenever i want!
ROSE: And as a backup measure, in case the dank majyyks fail you...
ROSE: There's always my pesterchum account.
JOHN: so now what happens?
JOHN: since you've been summoned and everything. like, did you fight the horrorterrors' enemies for them?
ROSE: Of course. What kind of arcane diety would I be otherwise?
ROSE: A terribly fickle one, at best.
JOHN: what amazing godly power do you use?
ROSE: My talent for composing subtle, innuendo soaked satire featuring beloved children's media.
JOHN: oh, right, of course.
JOHN: i do not know why i have even bothered to ask.
ROSE: Me neither.
JOHN: does it work?
JOHN: do you defeat all the bad guys by reciting your poem about a comic book superhero getting arrested?
ROSE: You want me to decide that?
ROSE: Aren't you concerned I'm biased towards my own success?
JOHN: who else? i want you to win too.
ROSE: On the meteor, we'd traditionally solve such dilemmas generated through dramatic roleplay by spilling a few polyhedral randomization nuggets and divining our fate from their patterns.
ROSE: But unfortunately, I don't have any stashed away right now.
JOHN: i have some dice!
JOHN: we can use the ones vriska gave me!
ROSE: That sounds like a bad idea.
JOHN: no, it's fine.
JOHN: i combined them with a dangerous legendary weapon, in order to make it extra dangerous and legendary, and unpredictable.
ROSE: Oh well, in THAT case!
ROSE: What a relief!