![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
[Oh my godddd.]
Karkat, if you even think about setting a minimum word count on our feelings jams, I'm gonna upend an entire thing of fries over your head. And that would be an unforgivable waste of good fries.
[Also, an unforgivable waste of calm Karkat. Who knew this asshole would make such a good blanket, seriously? Dave returns to running his hands over the plane of his back, distractedly interested in the change between bone and muscle under his palms, slow and even.
God, Dave likes cuddling. Shit. He's gonna turn into some kind of snuggle junkie.]
Just saying as much as we're comfy with should be fine. We're both basically grown-ups here, I think we can handle that much. And if on any given day either of us doesn't want to, for whatever reason, I think that's fine, too. Yeah?
[Is that reasonable? He has no idea, what the fuck do normal, well-adjusted people do about this shit, oh wait normal well-adjusted people don't have to deal with this shit to begin with.]
Karkat, if you even think about setting a minimum word count on our feelings jams, I'm gonna upend an entire thing of fries over your head. And that would be an unforgivable waste of good fries.
[Also, an unforgivable waste of calm Karkat. Who knew this asshole would make such a good blanket, seriously? Dave returns to running his hands over the plane of his back, distractedly interested in the change between bone and muscle under his palms, slow and even.
God, Dave likes cuddling. Shit. He's gonna turn into some kind of snuggle junkie.]
Just saying as much as we're comfy with should be fine. We're both basically grown-ups here, I think we can handle that much. And if on any given day either of us doesn't want to, for whatever reason, I think that's fine, too. Yeah?
[Is that reasonable? He has no idea, what the fuck do normal, well-adjusted people do about this shit, oh wait normal well-adjusted people don't have to deal with this shit to begin with.]
[
You know what? Fuck their deposit. The next time something like this happens, he's breaking the fucking door down.
Karkat stands rooted to the spot for several seconds, his jaw slack as the full extent of what Dave had done during his latest spectacular fit of self-destruction sinks in. Shower running, clothes still on—the wall of steam he'd been expecting to hit him hasn't come, which only makes this worse, but at least registering that makes Karkat's next move clear.
He stumbles into the ablutionblock and all but falls to the floor next to the ablution trap in his haste to shut off the water and throw his arms around his moirail, completely failing to give any shits at all that he gets soaked in the process. He should have done this twenty minutes ago, why hadn't he done this twenty minutes ago, is he fucking braindead? Dave—
He buries his face against wet hair, takes a moment to try and calm his breathing, and gives up in record time before pressing a kiss to Dave's temple and resting their heads together.]
Dave. Shoosh.
[Another kiss, then a very uncoordinated attempt to pap this hopelessly pitiful moron's face. There's no real way to tell just yet if Dave has been crying, but since Karkat has resolved to treat him like he has anyway, if not better, it barely fucking matters. He just wants to know.
He makes no move to pull off the shades yet, though, instead pressing another kiss to Dave's forehead because fuck you, he doesn't need a reason.]
Shoooosh, it's okay. I'm here, it's okay.
[He's here and Dirk isn't. In fact, Dirk is never fucking coming here if Karkat can help it, but more on that later.]
Pale for you. Shoosh. Don't be sorry, just—just let me take care of you. Please? You're drenched, idiot, I—fuck, we need to get you out of these clothes. Where's Missy Elliott? Dave?
You know what? Fuck their deposit. The next time something like this happens, he's breaking the fucking door down.
Karkat stands rooted to the spot for several seconds, his jaw slack as the full extent of what Dave had done during his latest spectacular fit of self-destruction sinks in. Shower running, clothes still on—the wall of steam he'd been expecting to hit him hasn't come, which only makes this worse, but at least registering that makes Karkat's next move clear.
He stumbles into the ablutionblock and all but falls to the floor next to the ablution trap in his haste to shut off the water and throw his arms around his moirail, completely failing to give any shits at all that he gets soaked in the process. He should have done this twenty minutes ago, why hadn't he done this twenty minutes ago, is he fucking braindead? Dave—
He buries his face against wet hair, takes a moment to try and calm his breathing, and gives up in record time before pressing a kiss to Dave's temple and resting their heads together.]
Dave. Shoosh.
[Another kiss, then a very uncoordinated attempt to pap this hopelessly pitiful moron's face. There's no real way to tell just yet if Dave has been crying, but since Karkat has resolved to treat him like he has anyway, if not better, it barely fucking matters. He just wants to know.
He makes no move to pull off the shades yet, though, instead pressing another kiss to Dave's forehead because fuck you, he doesn't need a reason.]
Shoooosh, it's okay. I'm here, it's okay.
[He's here and Dirk isn't. In fact, Dirk is never fucking coming here if Karkat can help it, but more on that later.]
Pale for you. Shoosh. Don't be sorry, just—just let me take care of you. Please? You're drenched, idiot, I—fuck, we need to get you out of these clothes. Where's Missy Elliott? Dave?
[Whoa, whoa, Karkat, holy shit, Dave's too shattered to keep up with this flurry of activity. He blinks and suddenly the water's off (he was waiting for it to turn warm), he blinks and Karkat's kissing his head like he's just washed up miraculously from a shipwreck.]
What? I...
[He's shivering so badly his teeth are chattering, and he seems to realize he still has his clothes on. That's weird. He doesn't normally do that. What was he doing, even, when...how long has he been in here?
He's not in trouble, so he slowly lets his trembling arms uncurl, gets them out of the way by wrapping them around his chest. He'd hold Karkat instead, but Dave's sopping, cold droplets of water beading at the ends of his hair and falling between them. He tries to remember where he saw Elliott last.]
N-napping...? In her Pokéball, 's...'s on the nightstand. K-K-Karkat, you're getting wet...
[He doesn't sound like he's been crying, at least. If there's any 'at least' to get out of this situation.]
What? I...
[He's shivering so badly his teeth are chattering, and he seems to realize he still has his clothes on. That's weird. He doesn't normally do that. What was he doing, even, when...how long has he been in here?
He's not in trouble, so he slowly lets his trembling arms uncurl, gets them out of the way by wrapping them around his chest. He'd hold Karkat instead, but Dave's sopping, cold droplets of water beading at the ends of his hair and falling between them. He tries to remember where he saw Elliott last.]
N-napping...? In her Pokéball, 's...'s on the nightstand. K-K-Karkat, you're getting wet...
[He doesn't sound like he's been crying, at least. If there's any 'at least' to get out of this situation.]
[Eminently reasonable, yes, which is precisely why Karkat falls silent for several seconds before giving a single nod. He has completely fucking exhausted any and all stalling tactics he might have used. That's just perfect. There's no guarantee that Dave will decide to start this brand new policy of backing off less right now, though, so it's probably fine? Maybe it really is fine. Maybe he won't have to talk about it.
... Fuck, fries sound really delicious right now. Why had he stopped eating? Oh, right, because he'd fucked up a perfectly satisfactory feelings jam by getting his goddamn insecurities all over the place. Someone needs to invent PokéTrollian so he can get back to yelling at Past Karkat for being so impossibly horrible at everything ever.]
Yeah. We can do that.
[It's late and probably unnecessary (Dave should have been able to feel the nod even if he couldn't see it), but Karkat has a pressing need to hear anything at all that isn't the perpetual bullshit monologue running through his think pan 24/7. Just. Anything at all. Even one of Dave's stupid raps would work, god.
He sighs and gives his moirail a nudge.]
Come on. We're wasting the fries anyway by not eating them.
[Ignore the fact that he's the one who's, you know, on top of Dave and could easily wriggle free if he wanted to. Choosing between more cuddle time with Dave and Happiny Meals is a serious fucking dilemma.]
... Fuck, fries sound really delicious right now. Why had he stopped eating? Oh, right, because he'd fucked up a perfectly satisfactory feelings jam by getting his goddamn insecurities all over the place. Someone needs to invent PokéTrollian so he can get back to yelling at Past Karkat for being so impossibly horrible at everything ever.]
Yeah. We can do that.
[It's late and probably unnecessary (Dave should have been able to feel the nod even if he couldn't see it), but Karkat has a pressing need to hear anything at all that isn't the perpetual bullshit monologue running through his think pan 24/7. Just. Anything at all. Even one of Dave's stupid raps would work, god.
He sighs and gives his moirail a nudge.]
Come on. We're wasting the fries anyway by not eating them.
[Ignore the fact that he's the one who's, you know, on top of Dave and could easily wriggle free if he wanted to. Choosing between more cuddle time with Dave and Happiny Meals is a serious fucking dilemma.]
[Yeah, no, Dave is not implementing Operation: Suck Less At Moirallegiance, Just Apply More Sincerity (a.k.a. Operation SLAMJAMS) today, let alone right now. He's blown his weekly allotment of standing up for himself--no, shut up, it still counts even if he's holding his ground for Karkat's sake, you don't know his life.
He glances uselessly at Karkat--he can't see anything from this angle--then to the side. This is equally useless. He huffs a little breath and pats Karkat's back once, then rubs it again a little more briskly. Not to soothe, just affectionate.]
Welp, you're gonna have to feed me, bro, because I have lost visuals on the target. All I got on radar is fuckall and a side of shit. I must've sunk under the titanic weight of the asshole on top of me.
[Piles are trolls' gift to man, but they do not exactly provide the kind of buoyant support of mattress springs.
Anyway, Dave isn't doing anything to extricate himself from this situation, titanic asshole or not. He's still petting Karkat's back, actually.
His stomach growls.]
He glances uselessly at Karkat--he can't see anything from this angle--then to the side. This is equally useless. He huffs a little breath and pats Karkat's back once, then rubs it again a little more briskly. Not to soothe, just affectionate.]
Welp, you're gonna have to feed me, bro, because I have lost visuals on the target. All I got on radar is fuckall and a side of shit. I must've sunk under the titanic weight of the asshole on top of me.
[Piles are trolls' gift to man, but they do not exactly provide the kind of buoyant support of mattress springs.
Anyway, Dave isn't doing anything to extricate himself from this situation, titanic asshole or not. He's still petting Karkat's back, actually.
His stomach growls.]
[Karkat somehow fails to be reassured by the lack of overt tears. He is reassured by the fact that Dave seems to be capable of forming complete sentences, but since he's only barely managing that much, yeah, fuck, he is getting this idiot warmed up ASAP and not in the goddamn ablution trap. Just. No. Dave has lost all shower privileges and that's fucking final.]
Try and guess just how much I fucking care about getting wet right now. Go on. Guess.
[For once in his life, he doesn't mean to sound angry, but holy fuck, Dave, what do you think his priorities are right now? Just for that, he's going to hug this asshole even tighter before finally making an attempt to get his legs under him and think, vaguely, about actually standing.]
Come on. Up. I meant it about the clothes, Dave, and I can't get them off of you if you're sitting like this.
[He pulls his arms reluctantly away, too, but offers both hands just in case Dave needs help getting up. If he's been sitting in that cramped position for, what, it would have to be ten minutes if that's when he last held his PokéGear, then he probably does.]
Try and guess just how much I fucking care about getting wet right now. Go on. Guess.
[For once in his life, he doesn't mean to sound angry, but holy fuck, Dave, what do you think his priorities are right now? Just for that, he's going to hug this asshole even tighter before finally making an attempt to get his legs under him and think, vaguely, about actually standing.]
Come on. Up. I meant it about the clothes, Dave, and I can't get them off of you if you're sitting like this.
[He pulls his arms reluctantly away, too, but offers both hands just in case Dave needs help getting up. If he's been sitting in that cramped position for, what, it would have to be ten minutes if that's when he last held his PokéGear, then he probably does.]
[Nooooo. He doesn't wanna. Getting up means uncurling and losing all the body heat he's trapped, and it means abandoning this secure, defensible position, and it means stretching out and exposing all the softer places he could be hurt--
And also. Speaking of exposure?]
Why are you t-trying to get me naked...
[The words are flat enough to mimic his usual low-impact speech patterns, but there's neither casual ease nor put-on nonchalance to be found here. At best, Dave sounds faintly, genuinely puzzled, but mostly blank. It's weird. He feels blank, or somehow very far away, or something. Disconnected. Has this happened before, he can't remember.
(Yes. When Ashley was telling him about the dollhouse. Maybe other times, too. Something reminds him of LOFAF.)
But anyway, he recognizes Karkat's serious voice--no, a subtype. The herding voice, the...the firm-gentle leader voice. He must have a good reason for wanting Dave to strip down, but, yeah, he's not making the connection here. Reluctantly, he starts to uncurl, stretching one leg out and then the other, but he really doesn't want to sit up, really doesn't want to let himself go. He looks up through dripping hair for a towel, so he can at least be a little dry before he risks unfolding his arms.]
And also. Speaking of exposure?]
Why are you t-trying to get me naked...
[The words are flat enough to mimic his usual low-impact speech patterns, but there's neither casual ease nor put-on nonchalance to be found here. At best, Dave sounds faintly, genuinely puzzled, but mostly blank. It's weird. He feels blank, or somehow very far away, or something. Disconnected. Has this happened before, he can't remember.
(Yes. When Ashley was telling him about the dollhouse. Maybe other times, too. Something reminds him of LOFAF.)
But anyway, he recognizes Karkat's serious voice--no, a subtype. The herding voice, the...the firm-gentle leader voice. He must have a good reason for wanting Dave to strip down, but, yeah, he's not making the connection here. Reluctantly, he starts to uncurl, stretching one leg out and then the other, but he really doesn't want to sit up, really doesn't want to let himself go. He looks up through dripping hair for a towel, so he can at least be a little dry before he risks unfolding his arms.]
[Does he even need to point out the ~*irony*~ inherent in Dave calling him fat and requesting to be fed in the same breath. Because wow. Wow. Sure, Dave hadn't actually used the word "fat," but "titanic weight" is pretty fucking unambiguous and fuck him anyway, not everyone could be a pool noodle.
Karkat is pale enough for this asshole that the highly audible growl from his stomach stays any acerbic remarks to this effect, though; he huffs quietly instead and reluctantly starts peeling himself away. He is the one who'd brought it up, so—]
You're lucky I'm feeling magnanimous enough to not abscond with both of these and finish them off myself.
[He's trying to grumble and for once it isn't working. Focusing on how fucking aggravating it is to reach over grab the Happiny Meals sort of helps, but settling in at Dave's side again is ruining even that and asjdfklghlhasf what kind of troll is that easily pacified?
Vengefully, he steals one of Dave's chicken nuggets and eats it right in front of him. Hah.]
Are you going to sit up or what?
Karkat is pale enough for this asshole that the highly audible growl from his stomach stays any acerbic remarks to this effect, though; he huffs quietly instead and reluctantly starts peeling himself away. He is the one who'd brought it up, so—]
You're lucky I'm feeling magnanimous enough to not abscond with both of these and finish them off myself.
[He's trying to grumble and for once it isn't working. Focusing on how fucking aggravating it is to reach over grab the Happiny Meals sort of helps, but settling in at Dave's side again is ruining even that and asjdfklghlhasf what kind of troll is that easily pacified?
Vengefully, he steals one of Dave's chicken nuggets and eats it right in front of him. Hah.]
Are you going to sit up or what?
[He's moving. Thank god he's fucking moving. Too bad that's literally the only positive thing Karkat can say about the situation; Dave doesn't even seem to realize that being soaking wet is a bad thing, much less that Karkat is trying to help. Case in point—]
I'm trying to get you dry.
[Why the fuck else would he want Dave naked? Don't answer that. And he's trying to sound patient, really he is, but with how much effort it's already taking to conceal his worry, be soothing, his voice is getting lower and tighter with every new way Dave reveals how completely not fucking okay he is.
It had taken only one text-based conversation to reduce him to this. Karkat doesn't even want to know what meeting Dirk in person would do.
He follows Dave's gaze after a second or two, spots the towels, and wastes precious time internally berating himself for not thinking of that sooner before going to fetch one for him. Dave is moving sluggishly enough that he doubts he'll be able to dry himself completely, but at least he's mentally "here" enough to draw logical connections that Karkat is obviously too fucking incompetent to even consider.]
Dave? Here, this—you wanted this, right? We still need to get your clothes off, but—look, if you can do this yourself, I'll go and get you new clothes from the respiteblock, but if not, I have to stay and help. We can just take off your shirt and pants and leave your underwear, but we need to dry you off completely before we can get you warmed up. Okay?
I'm trying to get you dry.
[Why the fuck else would he want Dave naked? Don't answer that. And he's trying to sound patient, really he is, but with how much effort it's already taking to conceal his worry, be soothing, his voice is getting lower and tighter with every new way Dave reveals how completely not fucking okay he is.
It had taken only one text-based conversation to reduce him to this. Karkat doesn't even want to know what meeting Dirk in person would do.
He follows Dave's gaze after a second or two, spots the towels, and wastes precious time internally berating himself for not thinking of that sooner before going to fetch one for him. Dave is moving sluggishly enough that he doubts he'll be able to dry himself completely, but at least he's mentally "here" enough to draw logical connections that Karkat is obviously too fucking incompetent to even consider.]
Dave? Here, this—you wanted this, right? We still need to get your clothes off, but—look, if you can do this yourself, I'll go and get you new clothes from the respiteblock, but if not, I have to stay and help. We can just take off your shirt and pants and leave your underwear, but we need to dry you off completely before we can get you warmed up. Okay?
[Towel. Towel towel towel. He takes it and notices the tactile sensation of terrycloth, fluffy-thick while rough, too, all the little, bumpy loops of thread against his fingers. Clumsy with his shaking hands, Dave unfolds it over his head, takes a moment to register the palpable difference between towel-in-hair and towel-on-skin. He rubs it jerkily across his scalp a couple times and then, more carefully, wipes and presses it against the back of his neck.
Right. He can feel that, he's here. Here-not-there. Not that there is a there, not one that he can think of. It was just...white noise, mental static. No. Here-not-nowhere.
Shit, he's freezing.]
Want new underwear, too. I-I can do that myself.
[He glances briefly at Karkat, then down again as he dries his ears, works his way towards his face. Well, thank god his modesty is intact. What would they even do without such a vital facet of his base personality at play, it's not like that's a mild inconvenience in this situation or anything.]
Y-y-you can help, with everything, but. Undies, j-just me, please. T.Y.
[A dick joke really ought to follow, or something about Dave Strider magic alone time, but he can't get the part of his brain that handles hilarious and inappropriate phrasing for human and troll anatomy alike (a very large and important mental organ--haha, mental organ, but he's not even in a headspace to appreciate that) to engage. Tragedy. Jesus, what's wrong with him.
He shivers.]
Right. He can feel that, he's here. Here-not-there. Not that there is a there, not one that he can think of. It was just...white noise, mental static. No. Here-not-nowhere.
Shit, he's freezing.]
Want new underwear, too. I-I can do that myself.
[He glances briefly at Karkat, then down again as he dries his ears, works his way towards his face. Well, thank god his modesty is intact. What would they even do without such a vital facet of his base personality at play, it's not like that's a mild inconvenience in this situation or anything.]
Y-y-you can help, with everything, but. Undies, j-just me, please. T.Y.
[A dick joke really ought to follow, or something about Dave Strider magic alone time, but he can't get the part of his brain that handles hilarious and inappropriate phrasing for human and troll anatomy alike (a very large and important mental organ--haha, mental organ, but he's not even in a headspace to appreciate that) to engage. Tragedy. Jesus, what's wrong with him.
He shivers.]
[Aw, look at that betrayed frown, Karkat.]
Dude--was that my last one?
[He rolls onto his front and grabs the box to check, then turns the frown up to eleven at Karkat's smug chicken-thieving face. The fiend. Dave whines and throws himself across Karkat's legs, even if these are his just deserts.]
Duuuuuuuude. You do only love me for my nugs.
[...And then he retaliates by trying to go after Karkat's fries.]
Dude--was that my last one?
[He rolls onto his front and grabs the box to check, then turns the frown up to eleven at Karkat's smug chicken-thieving face. The fiend. Dave whines and throws himself across Karkat's legs, even if these are his just deserts.]
Duuuuuuuude. You do only love me for my nugs.
[...And then he retaliates by trying to go after Karkat's fries.]
[The shiver is all the hint Karkat needs that he should go and grab another fucking towel already, but even if Dave saying shit like "T.Y." means that he has to be feeling better, he can't bear the thought of leaving his side again. Dave has to be doing better. Please let this be better.
Sniffling not-quite-inaudibly, Karkat reaches for his moirail again, this time to assist with this whole highly fucking tedious drying business. From what he's just seen, it doesn't look like Dave has the dexterity needed to do a thorough job, and while Karkat's knowledge about these things isn't the most comprehensive, he's pretty sure that the head is one of the easiest places to lose heat from. Dave's hair is still dripping, and with the shades in the way, too...
He hesitates but eventually decides to carry on with drying all that fluffy blond hair without dislodging Dave's aviators. Maybe once he's graduated to full on nonsensical rambling, Karkat will deem it safe, but not now.]
Okay. I can do that.
[Rub, rub, rub goes the towel against Dave's head. Karkat may or may not be using the opportunity to massage his moirail's scalp and neck, just because.]
Shooooosh. Do you want to try standing up next or should we take your shirt off instead? I can get you a fresh towel, too, so you won't be cold. Whatever you think you're ready for, okay?
Sniffling not-quite-inaudibly, Karkat reaches for his moirail again, this time to assist with this whole highly fucking tedious drying business. From what he's just seen, it doesn't look like Dave has the dexterity needed to do a thorough job, and while Karkat's knowledge about these things isn't the most comprehensive, he's pretty sure that the head is one of the easiest places to lose heat from. Dave's hair is still dripping, and with the shades in the way, too...
He hesitates but eventually decides to carry on with drying all that fluffy blond hair without dislodging Dave's aviators. Maybe once he's graduated to full on nonsensical rambling, Karkat will deem it safe, but not now.]
Okay. I can do that.
[Rub, rub, rub goes the towel against Dave's head. Karkat may or may not be using the opportunity to massage his moirail's scalp and neck, just because.]
Shooooosh. Do you want to try standing up next or should we take your shirt off instead? I can get you a fresh towel, too, so you won't be cold. Whatever you think you're ready for, okay?
[Dave's hands linger uselessly for a second after Karkat takes charge of hair-drying duty, but then he lowers them into his lap with a relieved, shuddering sigh. Okay, yes, Karkat is much better at this bodily coordination shit right now than he is, and also that feels nice, that feels...the press of hands and thumbs says come back, come back, but like he doesn't have to hold onto anything when he does, like he can just chill and let someone else handle him. All right. Karkat's got this.
He nods numbly, but a flicker of a frown creases between his eyebrows, because he realizes none of those were yes or no questions.]
Shirt. Y-yeah.
[Treated like this, his hair really is coming up fluffy, like someone put a duckling through a dryer cycle. Now that the sun's coming out again,, he's starting to develop pale freckles, too, almost unnoticeable, dusted over his cheekbones and the back of his neck.
He touches his shirt idly, then looks down at it, bemused, and pulls the wet fabric slowly away from his skin.]
Was, was I in here long...just waiting t-till the water warmed up, would've been r-right out, promise...
[A soft sound by the door--Wart's placed two more towels and a change of clothes just outside before retreating.]
He nods numbly, but a flicker of a frown creases between his eyebrows, because he realizes none of those were yes or no questions.]
Shirt. Y-yeah.
[Treated like this, his hair really is coming up fluffy, like someone put a duckling through a dryer cycle. Now that the sun's coming out again,, he's starting to develop pale freckles, too, almost unnoticeable, dusted over his cheekbones and the back of his neck.
He touches his shirt idly, then looks down at it, bemused, and pulls the wet fabric slowly away from his skin.]
Was, was I in here long...just waiting t-till the water warmed up, would've been r-right out, promise...
[A soft sound by the door--Wart's placed two more towels and a change of clothes just outside before retreating.]
Edited 2016-05-23 00:56 (UTC)
[—Oh you asshole, he's barely touched those fries, why are you such a douche. Karkat is already at a disadvantage, though, because not only is he slower than Dave but he's also busy trying to stifle his snickering at what is unmistakably a pout on his moirail's face. The retaliatory fry larceny is just the mucus on the grubloaf, and the moment Dave succeeds, he gives up on trying to contain his laughter completely.]
You—[SNRK] you are such a fucking wiggler sometimes.
[Pfffthahahahahasldfjghk fuck, why is laughing weird. He's not doing it especially loudly, and he could probably stop if he really tried to, but oh my god, Dave, what even was that.
Still smiling, he fishes out one of his own remaining chicken nuggets and offers it.]
Haha, here. We cool?
You—[SNRK] you are such a fucking wiggler sometimes.
[Pfffthahahahahasldfjghk fuck, why is laughing weird. He's not doing it especially loudly, and he could probably stop if he really tried to, but oh my god, Dave, what even was that.
Still smiling, he fishes out one of his own remaining chicken nuggets and offers it.]
Haha, here. We cool?
[He holds onto his tuberous hostages with put-upon, stubborn resolve, but, fie! That crunchy golden surface glistening with fucking fryer oil, the aroma of miscellaneous poultry parts whose provenance was better left unquestioned...Fair chicken nugget doth draw the Goode Knight's eyes, and Dave is but mortal; he falters.
His gaze flicks from the chicken to Karkat's face and back, and, yeah, that's it, his determination crumbles like the cheap piece of shit it is, and he's not even mad, though he pretends to be.]
Fiiiiine.
[He relinquishes the fries. It's because this is fair reparation for Karkat's TREASON and not because Dave made him laugh and feels like a superhero, okay. But even before he can take a bite, Karkat's (awesome, amazing, fucking adorable) smile catches, spreads on Dave's face, too.
He takes a small, smiling bite, chews and swallows politely, and then gestures with the rest of the nugget.]
Just so you know, that? Total wedlock ritual. We're human married now, hope you're cool with that. Tax benefits, hurrah.
His gaze flicks from the chicken to Karkat's face and back, and, yeah, that's it, his determination crumbles like the cheap piece of shit it is, and he's not even mad, though he pretends to be.]
Fiiiiine.
[He relinquishes the fries. It's because this is fair reparation for Karkat's TREASON and not because Dave made him laugh and feels like a superhero, okay. But even before he can take a bite, Karkat's (awesome, amazing, fucking adorable) smile catches, spreads on Dave's face, too.
He takes a small, smiling bite, chews and swallows politely, and then gestures with the rest of the nugget.]
Just so you know, that? Total wedlock ritual. We're human married now, hope you're cool with that. Tax benefits, hurrah.
[Karkat falters, then abandons his task completely, his arms snaking back around Dave's shoulders instead because fuck this, fuck everything, how could he have let things reach this point? If he'd just insisted on seeing Dave sooner, or better yet not left him alone for any length of time at all, then maybe—maybe he wouldn't be like this, in this state. Or, if he was, at least he wouldn't be freezing, soaking wet, and possibly developing human hypothermia, however the fuck human hypothermia even works, Karkat doesn't know, he is the worst moirail, he's fucking useless, he should have KNOWN—
A muffled sob forces its way past the lump in his squawk blister, and hastily, he unwraps his arms from his moirail again and tugs the towel off with them, hoping to distract him. As far gone as Dave seems, who even knows if it's necessary, but either way, this is so not the fucking time to cry all over his moirail and not help.]
T-twenty minutes. [Not that he'd been staring at the clock that whole time. He'd checked the one on his PokéGear, too.] Dave, you didn't even turn on the hot water.
[His tone is gently chiding, or trying to be, but his voice is as unsteady as the hands helping Dave pull his shirt off. Fuck, he should have grabbed that second towel by now, what is wrong with him?]
Hey, can you manage? I, I think I heard Wart, so.
[Doing something helpful, probably, who knows what. Karkat would look, but his vision is kind of blurry right now for reasons. God, keep it together, Dave still needs taking care of, try not being worthless for once in your fucking life.]
A muffled sob forces its way past the lump in his squawk blister, and hastily, he unwraps his arms from his moirail again and tugs the towel off with them, hoping to distract him. As far gone as Dave seems, who even knows if it's necessary, but either way, this is so not the fucking time to cry all over his moirail and not help.]
T-twenty minutes. [Not that he'd been staring at the clock that whole time. He'd checked the one on his PokéGear, too.] Dave, you didn't even turn on the hot water.
[His tone is gently chiding, or trying to be, but his voice is as unsteady as the hands helping Dave pull his shirt off. Fuck, he should have grabbed that second towel by now, what is wrong with him?]
Hey, can you manage? I, I think I heard Wart, so.
[Doing something helpful, probably, who knows what. Karkat would look, but his vision is kind of blurry right now for reasons. God, keep it together, Dave still needs taking care of, try not being worthless for once in your fucking life.]
[Oh. Uh, wow. Jesus.]
Twenty...
[Okay, yes, he's definitely cottoning on, now. Karkat is trying not to cry, he lost track of twenty entire minutes, something is wrong with him and he should wake up. How does he wake himself back up.
Karkat asks him something. Shit, focus, how long does it take to process a question?]
Yeah, o-okay.
[It's not like he has much to really manage. Sitting on his ass in the shower is not rocket science, he can probably handle it for another two seconds. No, he has bigger fish to fry than managing whatever he's supposed to manage in here, Karkat's eyes are wet and his voice is all funny.]
Karkat. [He's still shivering and also half-naked now, but he tries to steady his voice out anyway, firm it up.] Karkat, I'm okay. It's j-just water.
Twenty...
[Okay, yes, he's definitely cottoning on, now. Karkat is trying not to cry, he lost track of twenty entire minutes, something is wrong with him and he should wake up. How does he wake himself back up.
Karkat asks him something. Shit, focus, how long does it take to process a question?]
Yeah, o-okay.
[It's not like he has much to really manage. Sitting on his ass in the shower is not rocket science, he can probably handle it for another two seconds. No, he has bigger fish to fry than managing whatever he's supposed to manage in here, Karkat's eyes are wet and his voice is all funny.]
Karkat. [He's still shivering and also half-naked now, but he tries to steady his voice out anyway, firm it up.] Karkat, I'm okay. It's j-just water.
[Yeah, like he can't detect when Dave is bullshitting him by now? Or, okay, not always and neither of them are even trying to be serious at the moment, but Karkat still raises an eyebrow tries to suppress his smile into something a little more indulgent. The result is just condescending enough to make him look alarmingly like Kankri, but he is blissfully unaware of this.]
Doesn't being human married mean we have shared ownership of each other's stuff? So I'm fucking entitled to all your chicken nuggets from now on, Dave. All of them.
[You are the instrument of your own undoing, or rather would be if this arrangement didn't go both ways. On that note, doesn't Karkat have a few unclaimed nuggets left somewhere? Hmm.
His expression softens into something unforgivably fond, and suddenly self-conscious, he glances down at his deep-fried tuber strips. Yum, grease. Human food isn't that disgusting sometimes.]
You're wearing the dress, right?
[... He may be feeling a little too gooey at Dave in general to try that hard at continuing the joke, human marriages are his weakness okay, Dave knows this.]
Doesn't being human married mean we have shared ownership of each other's stuff? So I'm fucking entitled to all your chicken nuggets from now on, Dave. All of them.
[You are the instrument of your own undoing, or rather would be if this arrangement didn't go both ways. On that note, doesn't Karkat have a few unclaimed nuggets left somewhere? Hmm.
His expression softens into something unforgivably fond, and suddenly self-conscious, he glances down at his deep-fried tuber strips. Yum, grease. Human food isn't that disgusting sometimes.]
You're wearing the dress, right?
[... He may be feeling a little too gooey at Dave in general to try that hard at continuing the joke, human marriages are his weakness okay, Dave knows this.]
[He's unsteady as he rises to go and see whatever Wart was up to, but after pausing a moment with his back to Dave and and his glance nuggets on the floor, he finds it within himself to walk... sort of in a straight line to the pile left behind. Those are... more towels, right? And—
He wipes furiously at his eyes, then rolls up his sleeves. There's not quite enough water on him to ruin Wart's work, but like fuck is he taking any chances when he's already screwed up everything else.]
I know. It's just water.
[Ha. Hahaha. Oh, god, he can't start laughing now, this is the bad laughter, the kind that'll only make the tears worse. He can't scare Dave. He doesn't want to.
Karkat lingers near the doorway for a second to try and calm himself, then turns and heads back. His face has already crumpled and he knows it has, there's barely anything holding him together now, but he has to get these fucking towels to Dave and put the clothes somewhere they'll stay dry until Dave can change into them and—]
It's—just water. J-just water and, haha, twenty fucking minutes of basically drowning yourself. Yeah, that's normal! That's perfectly fucking healthy, I always recommend sitting in the ablution trap while it spews frigid piss water at you when you're having a fucking breakdown! Isn't that what you're supposed to do?!
[He barely remembers where he wound up dropping the clothes, only that they're safely out of the way, and he's still clutching the towels way too tightly to himself as collapses next to Dave again but fuck it, whatever, it isn't hard to unfold one and drape it around his moirail, keep him warm, keep him safe, like moirails are supposed to do.
He's supposed to keep Dave safe. Dave is a danger to himself, Dave isn't safe, and where the fuck was Karkat when he was hurting? Dave isn't supposed to get hurt, goddammit, this should never have fucking happened!]
He wipes furiously at his eyes, then rolls up his sleeves. There's not quite enough water on him to ruin Wart's work, but like fuck is he taking any chances when he's already screwed up everything else.]
I know. It's just water.
[Ha. Hahaha. Oh, god, he can't start laughing now, this is the bad laughter, the kind that'll only make the tears worse. He can't scare Dave. He doesn't want to.
Karkat lingers near the doorway for a second to try and calm himself, then turns and heads back. His face has already crumpled and he knows it has, there's barely anything holding him together now, but he has to get these fucking towels to Dave and put the clothes somewhere they'll stay dry until Dave can change into them and—]
It's—just water. J-just water and, haha, twenty fucking minutes of basically drowning yourself. Yeah, that's normal! That's perfectly fucking healthy, I always recommend sitting in the ablution trap while it spews frigid piss water at you when you're having a fucking breakdown! Isn't that what you're supposed to do?!
[He barely remembers where he wound up dropping the clothes, only that they're safely out of the way, and he's still clutching the towels way too tightly to himself as collapses next to Dave again but fuck it, whatever, it isn't hard to unfold one and drape it around his moirail, keep him warm, keep him safe, like moirails are supposed to do.
He's supposed to keep Dave safe. Dave is a danger to himself, Dave isn't safe, and where the fuck was Karkat when he was hurting? Dave isn't supposed to get hurt, goddammit, this should never have fucking happened!]
[Ahhh, shit damn, he recognizes this. His hands come up automatically to hold the towel, but he's hardly aware of it. It's Karkat he's watching, Karkat who needs him to jury-rig some kind of makeshift normalcy before everyone here loses all their shit at once.]
I'm okay.
[He remembers how to move his hand. Reaches for Karkat's, takes it in his trembling fingers, moves it up so he can press his cheek into it, the warmth of his palm. His gaze flicks back up to Karkat's face, even if it's hard to see from behind his wet glasses.]
I'm stupid, but I'm okay. Y-you can't drown in the shower.
[Probably? Probably. Well, maybe if someone tried really hard. Also, an adult human would have to be submerged in ice water for thirty minutes or more to develop even mild hypothermia, so Dave's probably fine on that count, too.
He starts to lift his other hand, but it hesitates midway between them. Dave frowns, slightly, lips parted as if he's about to say something, and then he tips his head down, brings his hand up to his own face.
He takes his glasses off himself because he can't freaking see through them, fumbles them with a little clatter into the tub, leaves them there. No, he's got to focus on Karkat, on taking his face in both hands and guiding him carefully to Dave's shoulder, to wrapping damp arms around him because the last thing he ever wants is for Karkat to be upset and alone.]
Karkat, you're crying...
I'm okay.
[He remembers how to move his hand. Reaches for Karkat's, takes it in his trembling fingers, moves it up so he can press his cheek into it, the warmth of his palm. His gaze flicks back up to Karkat's face, even if it's hard to see from behind his wet glasses.]
I'm stupid, but I'm okay. Y-you can't drown in the shower.
[Probably? Probably. Well, maybe if someone tried really hard. Also, an adult human would have to be submerged in ice water for thirty minutes or more to develop even mild hypothermia, so Dave's probably fine on that count, too.
He starts to lift his other hand, but it hesitates midway between them. Dave frowns, slightly, lips parted as if he's about to say something, and then he tips his head down, brings his hand up to his own face.
He takes his glasses off himself because he can't freaking see through them, fumbles them with a little clatter into the tub, leaves them there. No, he's got to focus on Karkat, on taking his face in both hands and guiding him carefully to Dave's shoulder, to wrapping damp arms around him because the last thing he ever wants is for Karkat to be upset and alone.]
Karkat, you're crying...
Uh, yes? Karkat, you're perfect, don't change, but you do not have the legs for it, just saying. I'm gonna be a goddamn vision. I vote Jade our best man and John the maid of honor, if he can stop crying slash singing Journey songs long enough to perform his bridal party duties.
[Dave considers everything he's just said, then digs out the toy from his Happiny Meal. It's a Grumpig spinning a lasso, and he opens it with a fake solemn expression that doesn't quite hide the wannabe grin that keeps tugging at his lips.
The lasso doesn't come out, so he just takes Karkat's hand and slips the whole thing over one finger, cowboy Grumpig and all.]
With this ring, I thee wed, et cetera. There, now everybody throws rice and stuff and we take off in our getaway limo. After an undisclosed number of days in which we do unspeakable things to my wedding dress, we return to our private island, where I carry you across the threshold into a mansion packed wall-to-wall with nothing but spicy Cheetos and Cameron Crowe movies. You cry a little and then we cuddle and you tell me I'm very pretty. We adopt three babies and all their first words are "fuck." The end.
[Dave considers everything he's just said, then digs out the toy from his Happiny Meal. It's a Grumpig spinning a lasso, and he opens it with a fake solemn expression that doesn't quite hide the wannabe grin that keeps tugging at his lips.
The lasso doesn't come out, so he just takes Karkat's hand and slips the whole thing over one finger, cowboy Grumpig and all.]
With this ring, I thee wed, et cetera. There, now everybody throws rice and stuff and we take off in our getaway limo. After an undisclosed number of days in which we do unspeakable things to my wedding dress, we return to our private island, where I carry you across the threshold into a mansion packed wall-to-wall with nothing but spicy Cheetos and Cameron Crowe movies. You cry a little and then we cuddle and you tell me I'm very pretty. We adopt three babies and all their first words are "fuck." The end.
[ > Be Karkat.
Houston, we have a problem.
The problem being that his head is on wrong. Metaphorically? Physically? No. Spiritually? He feels like it's spinning but he remembers that sensation before things go pitch black so this isn't a head spin. It's wrong still. The wrong everything. Hair (too dark), eyes (red?), hands (too small)...
Dirk hid in the bathroom. Clumsily, he tripped. He fell on his(?) face before he got there. The balance is all wrong. He doesn't move as quickly. The door doesn't open as smoothly as he expects because his(?) hands were shaking. They're still going. Wrong wrong wrong. He doesn't know this face but he knew the other occupant of the room. Dave was there so he has an idea who his(?) body belongs to. He thought Karkat was a troll. This must be a game rule that switched that. Sure. It's easier to not be an alien.
This is someone he knows enough to not be lost completely. And there's Dave. Grounding Dave. Only Dave took four steps and a timeline away from him. Was Dave even ready to talk face to face? Talking over devices is one thing but talking in person is another. Not to mention Dave is probably going to freak out he's the body-snatcher of his moirail (platonic-boyfriend?). This is going to put several wrenches in their progress. Things read well-enough but he still has doubts Dave might be okay with this. (He's not okay with this.)
If that's even Dave being Dave. He hopes it is. He hopes it's him.
After staring in the mirror for a while, he sinks with his back against the door. The first thing he thinks to do is contact Karkat (Himself?). Please don't let a complete stranger have his body. He can't be a stranger to himself. After a confirming reply, he sighs (wrong lungs). Okay. He's going to have to go past Dave to fuck off. ]
Hey. [ Do they talk through bathroom doors? He did it with Jake. That's normal bro behavior, right? ] You up in there... [ "SAY FUCK A LOT" ] Fuckhead?
Houston, we have a problem.
The problem being that his head is on wrong. Metaphorically? Physically? No. Spiritually? He feels like it's spinning but he remembers that sensation before things go pitch black so this isn't a head spin. It's wrong still. The wrong everything. Hair (too dark), eyes (red?), hands (too small)...
Dirk hid in the bathroom. Clumsily, he tripped. He fell on his(?) face before he got there. The balance is all wrong. He doesn't move as quickly. The door doesn't open as smoothly as he expects because his(?) hands were shaking. They're still going. Wrong wrong wrong. He doesn't know this face but he knew the other occupant of the room. Dave was there so he has an idea who his(?) body belongs to. He thought Karkat was a troll. This must be a game rule that switched that. Sure. It's easier to not be an alien.
This is someone he knows enough to not be lost completely. And there's Dave. Grounding Dave. Only Dave took four steps and a timeline away from him. Was Dave even ready to talk face to face? Talking over devices is one thing but talking in person is another. Not to mention Dave is probably going to freak out he's the body-snatcher of his moirail (platonic-boyfriend?). This is going to put several wrenches in their progress. Things read well-enough but he still has doubts Dave might be okay with this. (He's not okay with this.)
If that's even Dave being Dave. He hopes it is. He hopes it's him.
After staring in the mirror for a while, he sinks with his back against the door. The first thing he thinks to do is contact Karkat (Himself?). Please don't let a complete stranger have his body. He can't be a stranger to himself. After a confirming reply, he sighs (wrong lungs). Okay. He's going to have to go past Dave to fuck off. ]
Hey. [ Do they talk through bathroom doors? He did it with Jake. That's normal bro behavior, right? ] You up in there... [ "SAY FUCK A LOT" ] Fuckhead?
[Wart is many things. Positive things, even, most of them! He is very brave and very tolerant and has probably more common sense than the rest of team RWPYstuck combined.
He is not, naturally, Dave Strider.
Except he is, right now, and that's. Awful? Yes. Awful is the right word. Dave can't hear, he can't skim the surface of the minds around him, can't feel when something hits a wrong note and his services are needed, and also, oh my god, how is he supposed to let Karkat know what's going on without super freaking him out?
He's still frantically creating and discarding plan after plan when suddenly Karkat stumbles out of bed and vanishes into the bathroom. Wart waits, rolls over to make sure he's really gone, and then hops out of bed just as quickly to grab the nearest Pokéballs and open all of them at once. Out come Missy Elliott, Hutch, Wiglaf, Huggybear, and...]
Shit. Thank FUCK.
[Dave shakes himself (shakes Wart?) off and looks around, one palm to his head.]
What the hell...whoa, Jesus dicks.
[He looks down at himself, then Wart gets his attention again, gesticulating wildly, obviously upset and panicking. Dave blinks, because he can feel it, and he can feel his other Pokémon's varying levels of curiosity and worry, and...]
Where's Karkat?
[Wart points to the bathroom door, and then the question comes through. All six of them freeze, and Dave frowns.]
Okay, what the fuck, that is not Karkat.
[Wart nods, clears his throat, and then calls back in as passable an imitation he can do of sleepy Dave:]
No. What do you want.
Hahahaha, holy shit, not bad, dude.
He is not, naturally, Dave Strider.
Except he is, right now, and that's. Awful? Yes. Awful is the right word. Dave can't hear, he can't skim the surface of the minds around him, can't feel when something hits a wrong note and his services are needed, and also, oh my god, how is he supposed to let Karkat know what's going on without super freaking him out?
He's still frantically creating and discarding plan after plan when suddenly Karkat stumbles out of bed and vanishes into the bathroom. Wart waits, rolls over to make sure he's really gone, and then hops out of bed just as quickly to grab the nearest Pokéballs and open all of them at once. Out come Missy Elliott, Hutch, Wiglaf, Huggybear, and...]
Shit. Thank FUCK.
[Dave shakes himself (shakes Wart?) off and looks around, one palm to his head.]
What the hell...whoa, Jesus dicks.
[He looks down at himself, then Wart gets his attention again, gesticulating wildly, obviously upset and panicking. Dave blinks, because he can feel it, and he can feel his other Pokémon's varying levels of curiosity and worry, and...]
Where's Karkat?
[Wart points to the bathroom door, and then the question comes through. All six of them freeze, and Dave frowns.]
Okay, what the fuck, that is not Karkat.
[Wart nods, clears his throat, and then calls back in as passable an imitation he can do of sleepy Dave:]
No. What do you want.
Hahahaha, holy shit, not bad, dude.
Edited 2016-05-25 01:23 (UTC)
Nothing.
[ Crap. He answered. He's in there. For the sake of not having a meltdown and deciding to stay on the floor staring blankly into space, he forces himself to stand. What does Karkat usually sound like? How should he stand?
He ends up looking at the mirror again. He's standing straight. He doesn't know if that's right or not. Does Karkat brush his hair in the morning or should he leave this mess? Shouting and cursing a lot doesn't exactly give him a lot to go on. Can it be excited yelling or always angry? Or just a volume issue?
He makes a few faces in the mirror. None of it looks right to him but he isn't sure what right would be. It's a pretty cute face though. Damn. Why is Dave being platonic with this?
Probably not the right thought to have here...
He ends up with the same blank face he carries on his own face because he doesn't even know how to properly keep one of those stupid faces up if he tried. Neutral is safe, right?
He opens the door. How do you approach this? He couldn't even explain himself when he had other problems. This is going to go terribly. But. It's Dave. Should be Dave. That sounded how he'd expect Dave to sound after waking up, in any case. "We should talk." "Text me and see what happens." "Remember Freaky Friday? Lindsey Lohan was reasonably good in that but The Parent Trap still remains my favorite performance."
Wait. What's Dave doing in here? ]
Why the fuck are the Pokemon out? [ Should he have yelled that? ]
[ Crap. He answered. He's in there. For the sake of not having a meltdown and deciding to stay on the floor staring blankly into space, he forces himself to stand. What does Karkat usually sound like? How should he stand?
He ends up looking at the mirror again. He's standing straight. He doesn't know if that's right or not. Does Karkat brush his hair in the morning or should he leave this mess? Shouting and cursing a lot doesn't exactly give him a lot to go on. Can it be excited yelling or always angry? Or just a volume issue?
He makes a few faces in the mirror. None of it looks right to him but he isn't sure what right would be. It's a pretty cute face though. Damn. Why is Dave being platonic with this?
Probably not the right thought to have here...
He ends up with the same blank face he carries on his own face because he doesn't even know how to properly keep one of those stupid faces up if he tried. Neutral is safe, right?
He opens the door. How do you approach this? He couldn't even explain himself when he had other problems. This is going to go terribly. But. It's Dave. Should be Dave. That sounded how he'd expect Dave to sound after waking up, in any case. "We should talk." "Text me and see what happens." "Remember Freaky Friday? Lindsey Lohan was reasonably good in that but The Parent Trap still remains my favorite performance."
Wait. What's Dave doing in here? ]
Why the fuck are the Pokemon out? [ Should he have yelled that? ]
[Hutch the Umbreon's ear twitches, and he moves to stand between Dave/Wart and Wart/Dave and the Karkat-who-is-not-Karkat. Wiglaf, more timidly, glances between his two friends, and then races up to sit on Wart-in-Dave's shoulder, whiskers starting to spark a little.
Wart considers his situation, then stands in a decidedly un-Dave-like way, chin lifted proudly, hands at his sides.]
...Lie detectors.
[Dave, on the other hand, looks at Wart (looks at himself?? this is weird), shakes his head, and pats his arm with a sigh. Wart glances down with a questioning expression.]
No, dude, you tried, but, protip? Hands in the pockets. Chill dudes always got to have their hands in the pockets. Also, you forgot to put my shades on.
[Dave starts to walk over to get them, but realizes something. Stops. He lifts a hand, and the aviators rise from the nightstand, float across the room, and then fall neatly into his hand.
HELL. FUCKING. YES!
He puts them on, and Wart's face is such a better poker face than his own, this is awesome.]
Mind telling me who you are and what you're doing in my lawfully McWedded palebro's body?
Wart considers his situation, then stands in a decidedly un-Dave-like way, chin lifted proudly, hands at his sides.]
...Lie detectors.
[Dave, on the other hand, looks at Wart (looks at himself?? this is weird), shakes his head, and pats his arm with a sigh. Wart glances down with a questioning expression.]
No, dude, you tried, but, protip? Hands in the pockets. Chill dudes always got to have their hands in the pockets. Also, you forgot to put my shades on.
[Dave starts to walk over to get them, but realizes something. Stops. He lifts a hand, and the aviators rise from the nightstand, float across the room, and then fall neatly into his hand.
HELL. FUCKING. YES!
He puts them on, and Wart's face is such a better poker face than his own, this is awesome.]
Mind telling me who you are and what you're doing in my lawfully McWedded palebro's body?
Page 39 of 57