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)
thearena2015-02-16 12:48 pm
shenunigans) wrote in thearena2015-02-16 12:48 pm
Entry tags:
On the tough guy style I'm not too keen. [OPEN]
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.
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.
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"Okay. Sure. Fine." She echoes his words right back at him. "How about all that snow, huh? So cold. So wet. Normally I'd blame Elsa but for once it's not her making the weather do crazy things."
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"How is she, by the way? Fanning her face? Asking why everyone is shivering?" He can only hope and assume she's Not Dead given Anna's approach to the conversation.
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Anna shrugs at Dave's mention of Elsa. "I'm not sure. I haven't found her yet. But I haven't seen her face in the sky yet, so I assume she's okay...wait, have you seen her?"
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Mostly, Anna's scared that she won't be. It's irrational, but what if she doesn't care?
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Anna manages a smile. "I'll see you again, though. Maybe all three of us can join up."