The Thief of Light Theory
THE THIEF OF LIGHT THEORY:
I’ll say one last thing.
Though the magnitude of the ensuing destruction resulting directly from your actions will be neither possible or necessary for you to fathom, there nevertheless ought to be a silver lining.
The only question is whether you will live long enough to see it.
I’m not a gambling man.
But if I was, I wouldn’t bet on it.
Linkzeldi from Tumblr Here.
I like to do the theory thing once in a while. Though it’s rare that I write my speculation down into detailed, cited form like I am attempting to do here, I will nonetheless try to make my incoherent thoughts into a more easily followable line of speculation this evening. Or day. Whatever time you happen to be reading this. Before beginning take note, that this theory takes a lot of inspiration from other homestuck theorists, namely BlastYoBoots, so if it sounds like I’m repeating what they’ve already said in some parts, its intentional. Also, a great deal of this came with help from my best friend TheNeonWerewolf, who has a Tumblr you should all heap praise at.
So some things I'd like to point out.
A) Casey is alive and with John. ASDFGHJKl;
B) Lalonde is throwing some kitty thing into Problem Sleuth’s window (for the sillies who haven’t read it)
C) Jane’s room interior is purple which I don’t remember happening in John or Jade’s room.
D) Jake will probably go god tier much like Aradia did.
Steadily toiling day and night to breed the right frog because that was the strongest thought he had before he turned. His friends have to physically stop him to get his attention.
he finally breeds the perfect frog and sort of just… stops
Jane goes up to him and has to make herself place a hand on his fraying shoulder, but he doesn’t even feel it. He just stands there, facing his amphibious creation with dead eyes, and Jane wonders if this is it, he’s finally run out of life.
But then he makes a wheezing sort of noise, like a mostly-sealed bag being squeezed shut. It almost sounds like he’s trying to say her name. She steps between him and the frogs and makes herself meet his unmoving gaze. The locked muscles in his face twitch. He raises a stiff, diminished arm; Jane flinches but holds herself in place. He doesn’t touch her, though, but points to one of the many pumpkins lying around.
Jane steps delicately over and picks it up. Carved into one side in messy, uneven scratches, Jake has written ‘IM SORRY.’
On the other side, even sloppier: ‘MERCY IS JUSTIFIABLE.’