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

[shenunigans]

Somewhere in his heart, Dave knows that Albert feels his vibe. There is a look of understanding in that smile, not the usual confused expression he gets when he makes a weird, off the cuff comment. He nods to solidify the moment, but he moves on with the conversation as Albert takes it onward.

"That's deep." He adds helpfully, but there's an agreeable tone to his voice. "It's still depressing to know that every artsy, guilt-mongering apocalypse movie was a little bit right. Thanks, Al Gore." He glances up at the sky, as if expecting him to be there, then hesitates to look back at Albert.

"It's a long story. Like, hellishly long. What part in particular are you angling for?"

[silberfuchs]

"Less Inconvenient Truth and more Blade Runner but that's about right," he replies, momentarily glad that the rest of the cyborgs long ago had subjected him and the others that had been frozen to the several decades of pop culture they'd missed. He'd actually enjoyed Blade Runner. More than the Terminator series, anyway. That hit too close to home on some level.

"Considering I don't know the story at all I can't begin to guess. Maybe a Reader's Digest edition? Again, if you don't mind."

[shenunigans]

"When a Bruce Willis expy makes his way here, I vote we all listen to him and do exactly what he says." At this point, it's kind of nice to imagine some aged action hero with dreamy eyes coming in and fixing everything with nothing but his iron will and gritty comebacks. It could be any number of people here. It could be Dave, it could be Albert, but he's selected Bruce Willis as his sign of the times.

"Alright, well. I don't mind, but a lot of people don't really seem to believe it. Their eyes glaze over and they scrunch their faces like they're pretending to try to understand and then I say something innocuous and we change the subject." He explains, scuffing his feet before he inhales. "It started with a computer game. I didn't want to play it, but my friends peer-pressured me into it. The set up was kind of like.. Sims? Do you know Sims? Anyway, it was a game and we were able to guide each other through the beginning because it has some amount of control over you." He wiggles his fingers, like he's illustrating a puppet master. "The game destroys the world with meteors and shit. Sends you to your very own personalized planet and super-magic powers and together you're meant to progress through it and create a new universe. Through the whole thing people kept trying to contact us to talk, to troll if you will. Even before we started playing they were hassling us- turns out those assholes were the very same grey assholes we know and love. With the horns and the obnoxiously complicated social standards."

He takes a deep breath, aware that he's rambling but also aware that it's the only way to tell the story. "Something went wrong with their session, someone went rogue and some things glitched, the rogue asshole made it to our session and murdered our guardians for character development. My Bro and technically my Mom though I didn't know she was my Mom at the time but then I met her again later- anyway. Our session was glitching too and we were never going to make it if we didn't work together, which is unfortunate because trolls are trolls. Anyway, some events lead to me dying and resurrecting as the highest achievable tier for me- which is Knight of Time by the way- then a few of us convened on an Asteroid hurtling toward the next story arc. That lasted about, uh. 3 years? And naturally when things were starting to happen I came here."

He follows it with a shrug, just so Albert knows he's done. "That is the heavily edited version. A lot happened, I mean. A lot. If we were to condense everything we all did into one story it would probably be a choppy, unreadable mess that trumps the word count of three bibles taped together."

[silberfuchs]

If he had to choose, Albert would guess at it being Steve Rogers to lead the charge, but that thought too he keeps to himself in favor of listening to Dave's story. Which is what it is, of course. A story. It's too ridiculous to be believed. True, his own life sounds like something out of a science fiction periodical, but the entire universe being a computer game? It's just as ridiculous as Terezi telling him she'd created humanity.

Kids.

But he'll get nowhere by calling Dave a liar, or at least a very talented and imaginative weaver of fiction, which amounts to the same thing. After all, who's to say that this universe doesn't exist separate from his? After all, Bucky is from a separate reality where things are very similar to his and then there are people like Shepherd or Iron Bull from places or even realities that bear no resemblance that he can find. Even literary come to life here, Samwise and Eponine as examples. So what's not to say that Dave really is from the same insane video game reality that Terezi apparently created.

Or something. He remembers having some sort of similar revelation the last time they'd talked, at the birthday party.

Albert pinches the bridges of his nose for a moment, trying to dispel a budding headache. "That's quite a story, even abridged. This is how you became so knowledgeable about time travel, then? This 'Knight of Time' thing?"

[shenunigans]

At this point, Dave wouldn't precisely be surprised. Barely anyone really takes what he says into much serious consideration, not that he's ever tried very hard to be taken seriously. Albert has always come across like a no-nonsense guy, so for him to make an attempt not to write him off entirely is positive enough for now.

"Yeah, it has that kind of effect on you." Sympathy is sincere in his tone, along with a sort of amused tone. It's hard enough to believe he's lived it, some days. It would be easier if it were an elaborate fantasy and not an all-consuming existence that he will probably have to go back to at some point.

"That is exactly how that came to be a thing. I am all about alternate timelines and universes and setting up my own death for tricky time-shenanigans. It's a wonder why I do absolutely fucking awful here." He places his hands on his hips like he's about to give himself a stern talking to. "Maybe sixth times the charm, eh? Might be our lucky month."

[silberfuchs]

"Here's hoping." For Dave, anyway. Or he's still not sure. It's easier for Thirteen to grab them when they've died in the Arena, or so the story goes. He still hasn't decided if it's better to die and still give them that opportunity or to attempt to win and escape the Arenas altogether. Not that a win ever guarantees anything, but it's better than nothing, and as far as Albert knows Thirteen hasn't pulled anyone under the age of twenty. If that's a choice rather than a coincidence, Dave might be out of luck anyway which boils Albert's blood. Women and children first, that's what he's always held true for rescues.

It's all too complicated and frustrating to share, and there are eyes and ears everywhere in the Arena. He can't say any of it.

"I certainly won't stand in your way, if you're trying to win this thing."

[shenunigans]

For the little Dave knows about Thirteen, it doesn't seem like a place that would be interested in him. People like Carlos with his abilities or Cecil with his bravery and his inside knowledge were the kind of people they needed. Albert, Steve and some of the other Avengers were probably next on their shopping lists, but he doesn't full understand the motions of it all anyway.

"Yeah, well, I'm not going to push you out of the way either." He smirks weakly, just thinking about it makes him so damn tired. He had a drive to stay in and help his friends out when he started here, but he's getting so exhausted that the idea of winning is less and less repulsive to him. He just can't imagine killing anyone for it, which is the kicker. "With the way things are going, looks like you don't have to stab too many people to get the crown." He says that outloud, seemingly unaware that he hasn't verbalised most of what he'd been thinking about.

[silberfuchs]

"Should we call this an alliance, then?" He wouldn't mind, especially not since it'll make it look good in the Capitol, especially if Albert takes a fall for Dave or some other opportune thing to win him the Arena. Not that it's anywhere near a sure thing, not with so many still alive, which is a blessing and disappointment too considering how none of them deserve this.

Most of them. He has to remember Black Tom is still in the Arena.

"I'll watch your back if you watch mine?"

i'm about ready to wind this up if you are c:

[shenunigans]

"Alliance. Friendship. Broship. Whatever you want." He waves a hand airily, not particularly invested in the official term. If it came to it, he'd push for Albert to win, but he's well aware that his age makes people strangely compelled to protect him. He's just not used to it, given his upbringing, so he doesn't see the point in yielding to it.

"You got it. I'll be watching that broad, manly span of German pride for all the missiles. It's kind of a big target. Gotta be careful of that." He polishes that off with a confident nod, not addressing the fact that he just went into some strange detail there. Sometimes he likes to fling himself down a side road.

yup! Wrapping up is cool

[silberfuchs]

Dave's response gives Albert pause and he has a momentary mental aside with himself on the subject of Dave's sexuality for saying something so specifically physical, but instead of mentioning it he shrugs it aside. That would be an entirely inappropriate conversation that the Capitol would take to disgusting and untoward places. No thank you. He'll just have to let Dave struggle through potentially homosexual tendencies by his onesome.

He just had to make it weird. Teenagers.

"Right. Well. Speaking of being targets, despite our light hair, the clothing is something of a giveaway against the snow. We should probably move along before someone decides to use us as target practice." Gamemakers or otherwise.

[shenunigans]

"Yeah. I should probably find my girlfriend." He says agreeably, stroking his chin as he considers where she could be. His sexuality remains the colorful enigma it has been for some time and he remains completely unaware of the fact that there are people other than him confused about it.

He hops back, brushing himself off as best he can and readjusting himself. "I'd say keep frosty, but." He waves his hand in a circle through the air before freezing it so he's sort of waving at Albert. "I'll see you around. Or at crowning, maybe." With that, he steps off and back into the snow, wading roughly in the direction he thinks he came from.

and done

[silberfuchs]

Albert almost calls him back instead, tells him to group up with himself and Jet at the treehouse that they'll share their supplies and such and keep him alive, but something stops him. He's not sure what. Maybe because Dave had mentioned a girlfriend and far be it from Albert to stop Dave from finding her, or maybe because he just doesn't really know how to handle young people. Either way, Dave's let go with little more than a wave back and a "see you then."

Almost as if this was as simple as running into someone in the park instead of in the middle of an ice age deathmatch. It's strange and a little frightening what a person can get used to.