On the tough guy style I'm not too keen. [OPEN]

[shenunigans]

Who| Dave Strider and OPEN (plus a mingle prompt)
What| Various escapades of a Texan ass deep in the cold powder of anti-Satan.
Where| Through the forests, around the caves
When| Week 3
Warnings/Notes| Naughty words


A. Valentines Rewards:
Of all the commercialized affection days Dave has lived through, he's never gotten gifts quite like this. Or any gifts, really, but that's all in the past. His requests hadn't precisely been sincere, so he isn't disappointed when two parachutes drop down in front of him. One contains a themed scarf that he doesn't remember asking for, but he enthusiastically clucks to himself as he winds it around his neck. If Caesar Flickerman is watching, he doesn't want him to think he doesn't want his face wrapped snug around his body. The day only increases in hella-ness when Dave is also presented with what can only be described as a gargantuan bag of doritos.

For a while, he walks around under his five layers of jackets, blankets and scarfs with the bag tucked under his coats, open and kept in place against his chest with sheer force of will. Every so often he'll reach into his shirt, pull out an orange chip and eat it in a way he imagines to be inconspicuous.

Eventually, his travels take him upward and he uses a knife and sheer force of will to haul himself up onto one of the higher branches so he can pull the bag out and eat from it as much as he likes. He could say he's surveying the surroundings while he does this, but he'd be lying.

B. Snow Trekking Acrosstheuniverse:
Generally, Dave hates snow. Snow is overrated, Winter Wonderland is a barren wasteland of death and misery. Currently, Dave loathes snow. It's precisely crotch height and he is literally balls deep in shaved and flaked misery. It's a bad day to be 5'9, but he's thankful not to be any shorter than that right now. Maybe it would be easier to walk if he weren't wearing everything wearable, but then he would be cold.

The snow is making it damn near impossible to see anyone and he deeply regrets stepping off for some personal time. The isolation had been good. Briefly. Now he's surrounded by nothing but white as far as the eye can see, like he's in the middle of a suspiciously crowded Nickelback concert. One would imagine that the fact that he's entirely alone would be a relief, but he can't help thinking someone might spring out at him at any minute.

After a few minutes of aimless trudging, he gives in to temptation and starts to haphazardly sculpt what may be the world's ugliest snowman. Ugly stick arms, ugly rock nose and yet, he seems so empty. Dave stares into the white abyss of his snow friend's eyes before he very carefully pulls his own shades off his face and places them onto the snowman. He puts his hands on his hips, stroking his chin as he ponders.

"It's like looking in a mirror." He murmurs, then he takes a long step back before springing himself forward to violently and inelegantly pummel the snowman like a dog with a balloon. He stands up slowly and plucks his shades out of the snow, dusting them off before sliding them back on like nothing happened.


Snowball Fight: (feel free to do open prompts with this one)
It's a long walk back, but Dave finally feels like his numb legs have begun to lead him to a slightly more populated area. It's not necessarily a good thing, but it's leading him back to the meeting place he and Karkat had agreed upon. In retrospect, there wasn't much about that particular tree that differentiated it from the rest of them. Dave is in a constant state of sniffling, his nose is pink and his legs are damp and cold from trudging through snow all day.

There is no sense of Christmas cheer in him, but when he sees someone ahead of him struggling through the snow, he feels an overwhelming urge to pelt them with some snow. This is partly because he thinks it's someone he knows and entirely because he is near delirious from being cold and exhausted.

He scoops himself a sizable handful and with an exclamation of hup that is louder than he intended it to be, Dave starts a snowball fight mid-Arena.

Comments

B

[rediscover]

Anna, on the other hand, doesn't mind the snow. At least, not quite as much. Snow, she can do. Snow, she's dealt with. It may be up to her waist, but she's choosing to look on the bright side--it's also insulating her from the freezing wind. So she wades through snow drifts, out in search of abandoned supplies and maybe some food, if she's lucky.

Off in the distance, she spies a sort-of familiar form. It's Dave, if Dave weighed several hundred pounds and were shaped like a marshmallow. Coming a bit closer, Anna waves her arms at the marshmallow-Dave, excited to have found him at last.

"Dave! Over here! Haha, oh my gosh, what are you wearing?"

[shenunigans]

There is nothing remotely pleasant about being balls deep in ice, there is no bright side. There's only misery and sadness and isolation and crushing levels of concern for safety in amidst vast fields of bullshit.

Dave tenses when he sees a figure in the distance, not immediately recognising them but relieved to see anyone out here anyway. Once she calls out, it becomes very obvious that it's Anna both from her voice and gestures. Dave starts to slog forward to meet her halfway, raising a brow at her as if her question is the weird thing here.

"It's called a scarf, Anna." He points out, raising an arm with some difficulty so he can lift it up and give her a better look.

[rediscover]

Anna just rolls her eyes good-naturedly, and if she could, she'd be skipping toward him at full throttle. As it is, she can only wade enthusiastically, looking like a puppy hopping through a snowdrift.

"I know that," she calls, coming a bit closer now. "I meant--you must have, like, eight coats on. Don't you think that's a bit excessive?"

Well, it is Dave. She's pretty sure he has no concept of 'excessive'.

[shenunigans]

Oddly enough, Dave braces for impact whenever Anna starts to head toward him. He's preparing for the incoming missile for a long moment before he realises he actually has nothing to worry about. Which is good, because he doesn't think he'll be able to stand up if he falls.

"Oh? Do I?" He glances down, as if surprised to discover this before he glances up at her, trudging forward with longer strides. "Anna, we're literally balls deep in snow. The only thing that's excessive is the cold." He frowns, folding his arms over his chest as best he can despite his layers. "I spent way too freaking long in the land of unbearable heat and sweat and then I moved to a planet that was ninety percent lava. I am not equipped to handle this."

[rediscover]

Anna just rolls her eyes. "Nice language, Dave." Never mind the fact that thanks to the two Striders, she's picked up a few choice words of her own. Oops.

She stops just in front of him, seeming to hold herself back for all of three seconds, before she moves forward to give Dave a hug. "I'm glad you're safe," she whispers, shivering a little. She's still wearing the light jacket she'd been sent into the Arena with. Without even asking, she pushes her hands into Dave's pockets, seeking out a little extra warmth. "You're right, though. This cold is ridiculous. I bet even Elsa is feeling it."

Ayyy

[samson]

Cigarettes would have been another good thing to request, Brock finds himself thinking as he slides the snow goggles into place, the slitted lenses keeping a considerable amount of the brightness out of his eyes. The weather has been unpredictable in the Arena, but he figures he might as well play it safe; he'd rather ask for things he doesn't need than need them and be empty-handed.

He's tucking the remains of the parachute into his pack because he can probably use the material later, thinking about nicotine patches, when he notices a second one floating his way. Snowshoes, probably, and he waits for it to come close enough where he can snatch it out of the air.

But then the wind picks up and the parachute starts blowing away. Of course! Great. Brock swears, gets his shit together, and makes after it as fast as he can through the snow. It goes down in some trees, probably tangled up in some branches or something stupid, and he makes an aggravated sound as he gets closer.

[shenunigans]

At first, Brock is too far away for Dave to hear him. Not that he's paying as much attention as he should be, really, he's fixated on his chips for the moment. He treats each one with special care, savoring the cheese dust and eating with small, elegant bites as if he is the be all and end all critic of cheese-dusted corn chips.

It's the parachute that gets his attention at first, given that it almost flies into his face before tangling into the aforementioned branches. When Dave hears the cursing and the sound of snow crunching, it becomes clear that someone is after this useless crap. He does his best to peer down at the invader without coming into view and christ- he's big. Big and probably armed. Thanks to Molotov, Tom and logic, Dave has developed quite an aversion to being stabbed. He wants this guy gone fast, so he reaches out as best he can to start pulling the stupid parachute free.

A good idea would have been to roll his dorito bag up, tuck it away and reposition himself. Instead, Dave knocks the doritos out of his lap and in a frantic bid to grab them he loses balance entirely. Briefly he hangs onto the parachute in the branches but eventually it tears an he's falling fast with little more than an exclamation of "Frick!" before he hits the dorito scattered snow in front of Brock.

He's winded and a little out of it for a second there, then he pats his chest and his face and the snow around him frantically. "Holy shit, I'm alive. I'm alive and-" He moves to push himself up, only to find that isn't possible. "Aaaand. I'm just gonna chill here." He says vaguely, not entirely sure where Brock is. Just gonna chill here and kick his feet frantically.

[samson]

Brock can see the parachute tangled up in the branches, and he's close enough to squint as he sees it start wiggling around -- everything else happens too fast for him to react in time, and suddenly there is a person plummeting out of the tree, and there are chips, and Brock takes one more step before stopping and just staring at... all this.

Wow.

"Was that on purpose?" Brock says with baffled amusement, watching this kid squirm around and coming to the realization that he can't get up. He takes the opportunity to look around for weapons, making sure this teenager isn't about to stab him or something once he gets righted.

[shenunigans]

"No comment." Dave's answer comes fast, his legs giving up when he realises the snow is hopelessly smooshy and he can't get the grip he needs to start pushing himself upward. He has a knife hidden on his person, but there certainly isn't anything obvious in his hands or in reach.

He does, however, reach for a dorito and bring it toward himself, watching Brock for any sign of judgement before he just fucking eats it like the useless garbage he is. "Snow is the new salsa." He says, helpfully. "Are you going to help me up or kill me? Because if it's the latter, I'm not really interested in being knifed in the stomach again." Brock looks creative, he's just not sure if that's a good thing.

B

[silberfuchs]

Albert's hearing has always been good. He's wondered if it's to compensate for his eyesight; blank white eyes let in far too much light and on a snowy day like this his only saving grace is that its cloudy and the sun isn't reflecting off the blanket of white and blinding him. So it makes sense that he hears Dave first, barely more than a mutter but he can hear him comment about looking in a mirror and then as soon as the German turns his head, he's greeted with a flurry of powder as the American teen beats the ever-living snot out of his creation.

And here Albert thought he had issues.

He waits until Dave has his glasses back on before approaching, glancing down at the mounded remains of the Strider kid's victim as he makes his way over. "I'm not sure you get kill credit for effigies."

[shenunigans]

Dave's hearing isn't too shabby either, but it's not so good that he can hear the sound of Albert approaching. Particularly not with a scarf tucked up over his ears whilst he tears into a snowman. It's shameful that he even built it, the fact that he put his shades on it and went to town on it like it was a rival dojo is mortifying to himself. He just needs to pray that nobody heard him and..

Oh. Snap. Of fucking course.

Dave pushes his hands into his pockets so he can shrug and slump his shoulders as casually as possible while nodding in greeting at Albert. "Good thing he didn't put up much of a fight, then." He points out, but he moves on quickly and desperately attempts to find something else to talk about. "You blend in good here." He's not sure if that comes off like a compliment or an insult.

[silberfuchs]

So he doesn't want to talk about it, that's fine. And Dave's observation earns a thin chuckle from Albert, prompting a run of gloved hand through fine white hair. "Yes, I have built in cold weather camouflage. I hope I didn't startle you."

His expression sobers perhaps a bit quickly though, mind still on the tortured remains of the murdered snowman. "How are you holding up, Dave? I have some deer jerky to share, if you're hungry."

He always worries about the children in here, not just for supplies but for the psychological toll it takes. Most of the adults are at least equipped enough by this point to handle things, but children are at a disadvantage both physically and mentally with a few exceptions.

He tries not to think too much about Pruna.

[shenunigans]

"Likewise." Dave retorts, both because he's equally pale with only slightly blonder hair and because he's pretty sure anyone would be startled if they happened upon a frostual homocide.

He's too embarrassed to be specific, but luckily Albert is too cool to bring it up again. So far, he's proven to be chill as hell, so Dave doesn't respond too poorly to what he can only regard as coddling. He just offers Albert a heavy shrug, glancing around at the snow vaguely and pulling a face so he understands just how he feels about this.

The notion of food, however, perks him up for a proper answer.

"I've been better. I guess. Snow isn't exactly my element. I'm more a fire and brimstone kind of guy. Lava specifically." He nods, like that isn't a weird thing to be experienced with. "Sounds good. I bet jerky would go great with these." He glances from side to side before he slides a hand into the multiple layers of jackets and pulls out what looks to be a slightly rumpled, jumbo bag of doritos. "Want some?" He gives the bag an inviting shake, to solidify the validity of the invitation.

awww yis snowball fight

[a_minute_younger]

Gary might have a few inches over Dave, but his balls are not spared the same fate in this impressive collection of snow. Gary, at least, is trying to look on the bright side; he's cold, but he has many blankets and probably a fire and food waiting with his districtmates back in the forest, and most of the snow is collected in huge drifts that he can throw himself into when he's feeling bored.

The sleet is kind of miserable, though. Gary's just looking to find a nice tree to hide under at this point when Dave's snowball clocks him in the back of the head. There's a flash of instinctive fear on his face when he whips around, but it hardly lasts--Gary recognizes those shades from anywhere, even with the low visibility and under all those layers. He laughs to shake off any lingering uncertainty and, rather ominously, makes an I'm watching you gesture from across the clearing before leaning down to grab a snowball of his own.

"You brought this on yourself!" Gary warns, before chucking his snowball while making a diving leap for Dave's flank. Of course, with the sleet and all this movement, Gary's aim is horrendous; he's liable to miss entirely and hit a tree in the background. Or is that a person? Hell if he knows.

[shenunigans]

The moment Gary whips around, Dave realises he's made a terrible mistake. He's not sure how he managed to mistake him for anyone, then it occurs to him that his shades are slowly frosting over in this weather. Suddenly, Gary is making gestures and he knows what this means. Damn it, he did not mean to initiate Winter Wonderland Rumpus, he just wanted to get some attention.

Dave is also slowed in this weather, but Gary's warning signal gives him the good sense to duck downward rather than allowing himself to be brained by this ungodly, frozen anthrax.

"God damn it, Gary. You'll kill us all." He grunts, flicking snow at him rather than going the effort of making projectiles again. "Enough of these shenanigans."

[a_minute_younger]

Gary takes the flurry of snow like a splash of water to the face, guarding with his arms but ultimately blocking nothing. It doesn't help that the dive has left him mostly submerged. Recovery is slow and awkward.

"Never," he cries in defiance. To buy more time, Gary mirrors Dave's tactics and sweeps his arm, throwing a haphazard shower of snow in his general direction. "You've sullied my honor! We fight to the death."

[shenunigans]

Dave hunches and shields his face as best as he can when Gary does his most awkward and ineffective impression of an aggressive fish flopping around in the snow. He pulls his hands away to give the other boy a Look just so he knows how Done he is already.

"What are you, five? Act your age, not your score." He grumbles, patting snow off himself fruitlessly because it's getting everywhere anyway. "Sullied your honor? Really? I think this is a you broke it you bought it sitch, bro. You want your honor back, take it up with yourself." Dave is a ray of sunshine right now, idly kicking snow at Gary despite all attempts to remain uninvolved in frostual combat.

Snowball fight!

[smarterthanthem]

"Hey, Dave!"

In what may, and may not, be revenge for a certain incident in the mall arena where he threw a present at her head, Clementine darts out from behind a tree and hurls a snowball at Dave. She'd planned this manueveur very carefully, skirting round the edge of the battlefield until she found a suitable hiding spot ahead of where Dave would be. Now she has a small pile of snowballs ready made at her feet and intends to use them.

She'll keep her head out long enough to see if the snowball hits or not, unable to restrain a giggle before she ducks back behind the tree to pick up another piece of ammunition.

[shenunigans]

With a memory like Dave's, it's hard to remember every small vendetta his friends have against him. It's not a surprise, because he's a shit and he starts shit. It's just..Well. Okay. The snowball is a surprise, as is Clem's heightened ability to be sneaky as fuck.

He's glad to hear her voice, turning quickly and directly into the path of the snowball so that it hits him square in the face. He was something close to smiling, but now he's grimacing as snow falls from his face in small chunks. He doesn't bother to wipe an arm across his face to remove it, he's just going to furrow his brows and try to trudge toward the source of the sound.

"When I threw something at you, it was full of presents. Not disappointment." He drawls, peering around to look for her.

[smarterthanthem]

"It's only snow! Don't be a baby!" she can't resist calling back at him, even though it's going to give Dave a bigger clue as to where she is. Clementine hurriedly kneels down, grabbing a bunch of snowballs up to carry in her arms as she tries to move to another hiding spot, grin not leaving her face for an instant.

This was what snow was supposed to be about, snowball fights and building snowmen. That was what tv had taught her anyway, which is where the majority of Clem's experience with snow comes from.

Leaning around another tree with a snowball in hand, she sticks her tongue out between her teeth and takes aim to throw.

[shenunigans]

"Only snow." He repeats with a scoff, kicking at some of it as if to take a malicious stand against snow. "It's the powdery dandruff of Satan's scalp, Clem. Stop throwing it at me, it's getting in my mouth."

She might be having the time of her life, but Dave is pretty sure he's a few inches and a couple of hours away from being a crotchless wonder from rigorous iceburn. He doesn't tell her this, yet, but he would. Friends tell friends about crotch burn when they're being pelted with snow.

Her mistake is leaning around, because once he hones in on her he's far more alert this time around. He is braced for impact when the snowball comes his way and, in a rare moment of impressiveness, catches it when it flies at him and throws it right back at her.

"Knock it off, Clem." He calls out, holding his hands up in surrender. "I come in fucking peace. Happy?"

snowball fight

[carnagecarnival]

He's never gotten so many things sent in from the Capitol He's never gotten so many motherfucking notes. Some inconsequential; winking faces from Gary, a ridiculous smile from his moirail what got a headshake and a hand sign of a diamond done back skyward. Clara wished him warm. Porrim told him to show fangs and he flashed a wide grin full of them for it, before setting out on a hunt.

All what's left is this. Of course he didn't expect to have nothing thrown at him.

The snow splatters against his arm and at his face. He blinks and whirls. Of course.

"You know last you got throwing shit up at me it didn't got so motherfuckin well." He starts to reach down for some snow of his own.

Re: snowball fight

[shenunigans]

Dave's opinions and general relationship with Initiate have been tumultuous at best. He came in not trusting him, he gave him a reason to be wary, then they sort of came to understandings that were vague at best.

Even so, you don't get an opportunity like this every dynasty. He's not one for childish frolicking and general giddy self-fulfilling mischief and glee in the wake of all this freeze dried, white bullshit. HOWEVER, this is an opportunity that every petty little freckle on his stupid butt has awaited. He's barely aware of himself when he hurls the first snowball, then there's a brief moment in which he resembles a deer in the headlights when Initiate turns around.

Fuck that. He can do this. He scoops more snow again.

the big man HASS the rock

He jolts forward, flinging the freshly made ball into Initiate's face as a form of friendly warfare.

ahlly'yoop for the SLAM-DUNK

Re: snowball fight

[carnagecarnival]

The Initiate can just about say the same. What he knew of Dave prior to it all were about Jack and Shit. All he knew was some motherfucker went on looking for a strife and narrowly dodged getting his ass culled. The Terezi was taken.

Enemy of one's enemy he supposed. And the brother helped at him making necklace of Eridan's teeth and that, truly, was a good time. Dave had proven himself and he could hardly resist a game as like this.

The fear is fucking hilarious up at first. The determined look what follows is a challenge. His own snowball is maybe perhaps just slightly bigger than Dave's. He ducks Dave's shot quick and takes the chance for underhanded throw.

"HONK."

[shenunigans]

Every fiber of Dave's being rejects the idea of being hilarious. He is a manly and challenging competitor who should be feared and respected. Only his eyes are widening behind his shades when Initiate begins to scoop up snow with his shovel hands.

"Hey- yaoi antagonist- that's fucking cheating." He snaps, because his piddly little spoon hands don't stand a chance. Initiate throws fast and Dave is almost reminiscent of a bowling pin with a shot like that, it hits his leg and he scrambles to save himself, long legs akin to Bambi on ice before he steadies himself.

"Oh, it's on." His strength clearly isn't in his stupidly huge snowballs, so he'll focus on speedily crafting tiny ones to pelt at Initiate while stepping backward all the while.