Dave Strider (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shenunigans) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thearena2014-06-18 12:49 pm
shenunigans) wrote in thearena2014-06-18 12:49 pm
Entry tags:
All the other kids with the slumped cake mix
Who| Dave, Bro-zombie and OPEN with a closed Terezi prompt
What| Dave gets separated from Elsa, his brief luck is running out fast.
Where| Around the town, peeking around stores.
When| Just before Hellrena 2
Warnings/Notes| Manpain and zombie murder, naughty language watch out kids
Thus far, the Arena had probably gone a little too well. Granted, Dave got off to a bumpy start and he had watched Curtis the scientist die in front of him, but he was okay. More importantly, so was Elsa. He'd like to think he doesn't get attached easily, but they're Districtmates and they quickly stuck together through the crucial moments of the Arena. The hellish heat had nothing on her ice powers, and he could fight well enough to keep her safe from most things. Most, being the unfortunate keyword. They'd been shifting from house to house, rationing out the packs they'd been sent, but the fact that the two of them were coasting was enough to lead a couple of those dogs to their house.
Dave had protected Elsa as best he could, but eventually they'd split in different directions. He was sure he saw a flurry of blonde following him, he hadn't dared to turn around. It was only after he'd dived into the small window of an rundown old bookshop that he'd realised he wasn't being followed by her, or anything, he thought.
Of course, he wastes no time scrambling back out and searching through the fog for her, he isn't stupid enough to call out her name, but he lets out the occasional concerned murmur. A figure approaches him, and it is blond, but it certainly isn't Elsa. That is motherfucking Bro Strider in this post apopaloptic wasteland, looking fresh to fucking death. Or from death, really, as the case may be. Regardless of how strange he looks, Dave is quick to grab him by the wrist and jog him along with him, because that's clearly the natural thing to do.
Something is off, way off. He just can't bring himself to do anything about it, he won't abandon Bro and he won't kill him just for being a bit off. He probably just needs food, which Dave doesn't have, guess they're a two man search party now. Dave tries to be quiet, but through the piercing silence he occasionally tries to make conversation with Bro, who doesn't reply- but that's nothing new.
What| Dave gets separated from Elsa, his brief luck is running out fast.
Where| Around the town, peeking around stores.
When| Just before Hellrena 2
Warnings/Notes| Manpain and zombie murder, naughty language watch out kids
Thus far, the Arena had probably gone a little too well. Granted, Dave got off to a bumpy start and he had watched Curtis the scientist die in front of him, but he was okay. More importantly, so was Elsa. He'd like to think he doesn't get attached easily, but they're Districtmates and they quickly stuck together through the crucial moments of the Arena. The hellish heat had nothing on her ice powers, and he could fight well enough to keep her safe from most things. Most, being the unfortunate keyword. They'd been shifting from house to house, rationing out the packs they'd been sent, but the fact that the two of them were coasting was enough to lead a couple of those dogs to their house.
Dave had protected Elsa as best he could, but eventually they'd split in different directions. He was sure he saw a flurry of blonde following him, he hadn't dared to turn around. It was only after he'd dived into the small window of an rundown old bookshop that he'd realised he wasn't being followed by her, or anything, he thought.
Of course, he wastes no time scrambling back out and searching through the fog for her, he isn't stupid enough to call out her name, but he lets out the occasional concerned murmur. A figure approaches him, and it is blond, but it certainly isn't Elsa. That is motherfucking Bro Strider in this post apopaloptic wasteland, looking fresh to fucking death. Or from death, really, as the case may be. Regardless of how strange he looks, Dave is quick to grab him by the wrist and jog him along with him, because that's clearly the natural thing to do.
Something is off, way off. He just can't bring himself to do anything about it, he won't abandon Bro and he won't kill him just for being a bit off. He probably just needs food, which Dave doesn't have, guess they're a two man search party now. Dave tries to be quiet, but through the piercing silence he occasionally tries to make conversation with Bro, who doesn't reply- but that's nothing new.