Post by Dave Strider on Jun 24, 2014 10:19:45 GMT
Karkat:
It's long past curfew in the fourth year boys' dormitory, and Karkat has yet to fall asleep. He's been lying in bed and staring up at the ceiling for over two hours now, though that in itself wasn't all that unusual for him. His chronic insomnia meant he often had long nights where all he did was read trashy romance novels or complete his homework assignments. The only thing different about tonight was the fact that he'd gotten an awful letter that day from someone he would have never expected to hear from again. Apparently his father had sent him and Kankri a letter- one that had cut quick and deep. He didn't know whether or not to show it to his older brother- who hadn't had the chance to see it yet, thankfully, as an owl had brought it directly to him rather than wait for the morning at breakfast. While the contents hadn't exactly been coherent, he could tell the tone of the letter had been of regret but... well, it was fifteen years too late to fix his mistakes with Karkat, and another year for the ones he made with Kankri. He wouldn't forgive him. Ever. That much was settled for him. Still, his indecisiveness over what to do with the damn thing was killing him, and all the bad memories that were the result of his father's actions were starting to crop up again and dig him deeper into his anxiety. He twisted and turned on his bed, alternating between worrying more over it all and trying to think of things to distract himself. He was terrible at the latter, unfortunately... but Dave was always good at it, as obnoxious as he found it sometimes. He considers speaking up to see if the taller boy was still awake, knowing he often spent time working on his personal projects late into the night too, but he didn't want to disturb their other roommates. He does sit up, though, drawing back his bed curtain to peek out into the dark and see if he could tell. He just wanted someone to talk to... and it wasn't like he had any better options at the moment.
Dave:
Dave sat on his bed, surrounded by bed curtains that formed a small walled off space for himself and his projects, as he did nearly every night. Tonight’s focus was on his comic that he drew for the school newspaper, in which he submitted a few panels once a week. Many wizards had confronted him about it, questioning the poorly drawn art, barely readable grammar, and the meaning behind it in general. Purebloods, seriously. Dave spends an entire twenty minutes on each comic, which is more than enough time if you ask him, he’s a busy guy. And this skepticism for something he pours his heart and soul into? Where is the justice.
Though tonight, Dave wasn’t feeling it. Whether he was out of ideas or just couldn’t focus, he doesn’t know, but tonight is not the night for producing his usual comedy gold- it merits like a silver medal, at best. He gathered his pens and sheets of paper together, stacking them on his lap then reaching his hand through his bed curtains to set them on his night stand. A moment later, he heard the sound of pattering then rolling, which he heard stop about…. Of course, right under bed. Great job Dave, you dropped a pen again. Hope no one was awake to see or hear that. That could be embarrassing.
Dave let out a light exasperated sigh, and quietly slipped out through his bed curtains. He lowered himself to the floor, muttering quietly in his typical self-monologue while ducking his head and upper left half of his torso under his bed to reach around and feel for the rogue writing utensil, “C’mon pen, why you gotta be like this. You have one job. And in the pen world it’s like a job that majority of other pens can do, know your place dude. You can’t expand beyond your pen-lihood ways, this ain’t fuckin’ manifest destiny. Don’t snub your decorative duty, the fuck man, artistic license my ass more like artistic license to kill I /own/ you.” He continued quietly rambling to himself as he ran his hand across the floor, still in search.
Karkat:
Karkat is only mildly relieved when he sees Dave up, feeling a little envious of Strider's complete lack of worry or unhappiness. Honestly he didn't think Dave had any sort of problems, aside from running his fucking mouth all the time.... but Karkat did that too, so it was pretty damn hypocritical of him to hold it against him. He's still sort of anxious about even saying anything to Dave, not wanting to wind up burdening the seemingly care-free boy with his stupid issues and not really knowing how to approach him when he needed some kind of help. He never asked Dave for help with anything, so there was no set precedent to this. He hesitates before thinking to hell with it, getting out of bed and standing where Strider was bent over looking for his pen, apparently. Nudging him with his socked foot, he whispers as quietly as he can so he doesn't wake up the others. Which is to say he speaks at about what everyone else considers normal decibel.
"Psssst! Dave! ... Are you busy? What the fuck are you doing down there? The bogart under your bed is going to eat your ugly goddamn face if you keep sticking your vertebral lump where it doesn't belong. "
Dave:
Dave’s shoulders twitched, and a small yet solid thump could be heard from him hitting the back of his head on the underside of the bed. He hissed, muttered a quiet profanity, then paused a second before smoothly sliding back out. He stayed down on one knee, leaning against his mattress, playing it off as if the pen-incident had never happened. Fuck that pen anyway. “Huh? Oh, I was just doin’ my comics. Same old news, nothin’ of import to be told about. Still as hilarious as ever.” Dave stood and leaned against one of his bedposts, his calm disposition now back in full swing, “Anyway let’s talk about you. You’re up especially late, what brings you over to my bedstead during this fine night?”
Karkat:
Karkat had winced unseen when Dave hit his head, not having intended him to hurt himself and belatedly realizing he should have probably waited until the other boy had been out of harm's way. He stifles the urge to apologize, though, knowing Dave wouldn't appreciate having the slip up pointed out. No one liked weakness pointed out, even if there was no one that could quite deflect it like a Strider. He still gives him a look, knowing Dave knew he knew what he did though. Something like that. Whatever.
"Uh huh. So hilarious. Maybe to you and your brothers with your whacked out sense of humor, but I still don't understand what the fuck is happening half the time. And, uh... as for why I am gracing your bed with my oh so magnanamous prescence... I think maybe it's better if we, um. I mean. You know it's... Fuck me in the ass, shut up." He looks flustered, having a hard time getting the request worded right. Without, you know, giving Dave a clear shot at making it sound like he's making a goddamn pass at him. Stupid. "... I think we should get on your bed together. And put a silencing charm around us. If that's okay." He's turned a little red in the darkness of the room, still whispering loudly as he shifts his weight from one side to the other. Fuck it, the most Dave could do was laugh.
Dave:
A blond eyebrow was raised. Dave knew Karkat wasn’t like /that/. And he sure as hell knew that the request to sit on his bed in full privacy wasn’t any Vantass charm being thrown at him, something was up. But that doesn’t mean that he had to pass up an opportunity like this, it’d be a damned disgrace to. There will be no dishonoring the Strider family tonight, not on his watch. “Well shit Karkat…” Dave pushed the curtains adjacent to him open and lied across his bed on his side, propping his head up with one arm and running the other over his thigh dramatically. “I mean my bed is open, like grand opening of Walmart open with needy greedy moms and free samples and a full staff if you feel me, but I wasn’t ever expecting to see you in line to check out the merchandise. Like what even are the odds of this serendipitous moment. I mean the silencing charm isn’t necessary, I don’t really consider myself a screamer fyi but I guess if you know you can’t keep your volume down then by all means work the magic to prepare for my magic.”
Dave paused for a second to let his words process in the other’s head before immediately sitting up, kicking the wall of curtain the rest of the way open, and moving onto one edge of the bed. He had hoped that his comment, although hilarious and worth a fist bump from a certain sleeping brother, hadn’t upset Karkat enough to where he wouldn’t state his business. Maybe he should have saved that for later… Eh, too late now. “But seriously man, what’s going on?”
Karkat:
Karkat had grown increasingly irritated looking throughout Dave's spiel, exasperated even though he knew it was coming. The pink of his face was no longer purely from embarrassment, anger making his face flushed in the dim light leaking through the windows and Dave's small light source. "Your fucking nonstop motormouth is going on, obviously. God I knew you were going to do that. Every. Fucking. Time. Unbelievable." He grumbles, no real heat in his words aside for a small note of irritation.
Crawling into the bed on the empty side, he studiously does not look at Dave's face, used to avoiding it with Dave anyway since it wasn't like he could tell what any of the Striders were fucking aiming their precious eyeballs at. He gets comfortable, pulling some of Dave's blankets into a psuedo nest around himself before waving his wand at the curtains with a murmer. They shut and he puts a muffliato charm on them, settling in. His legs cross and he makes sure they aren't in danger of touching, the habit a subconscious one that he's grateful Dave never tries to push or question. "... I just wanted to maybe talk a little. If you plan on being up some more. I mean I can go if not. Shit. I probably should have asked first. Well whatever you're fucking stuck with hearing my bullshit now because I'm not moving from this spot any time soon." He picks up a balled up piece of paper- apparently a failed comic- and throws it at Dave halfheartedly.
Dave:
Catching the crumpled paper ball, Dave reacts with an over exaggerated jolting motion, “Aw shit look out, Gryffindor beater comin’ through. Careful dude, if it were anyone of lesser coordination and straight up athletic grace than I, you might’ve taken some poor chumps head off. I mean with those enormous guns you’re sporting and all.” Dave tossed the balled-up comic page over his shoulder, finishing up his lighthearted sarcasm to move onto what he’s assuming to be a more serious topic. He wasn’t entirely sure what this was about, and he doesn’t know how much he’ll be interested in what he has to say, but Karkat was pretty alright in his book. So now was the time to channel Rose and her Lalistening, it’s not like he had anything better to do anyway (though he’d never admit that). Dave sat in an uncharacteristic silence- too tired to ramble much yet too awake to go back to sleep anytime soon- waiting for Karkat to say whatever was on his mind.
Karkat:
Karkat picks at his pajama bottoms, still not looking up as he tries to find the words for what he wants to say. Without the bullshit or the cursing to detract from his intent. He wasn't really... angry. Well, maybe a little. In comparison to his usual levels of frustration, he appeared rather melancholy. The bags under his eyes seemed a bit more pronounced, his shoulders slumping a bit from their usual hard, stubborn set.
"... I got a letter from my dad today." He answers in a quiet rasp, his voice as hoarse as always. "Fucking deadbeat asshole sent me a letter somehow. Well- sent me and Kankri one. I guess it couldn't get to him or I was closer to it delivered it to me but I- I probably wouldn't have even opened the piece of trash if I had known it was from that inflamed shitsquatting asstrumpet. Fuck!" He growls out half heartedly, feeling something twist in his stomach at saying it out loud. He felt small again and worthless, unable to connect with anyone. The only one he ever had any sort of lasting relationship he'd had so far was with his brother. And that was more because Kankri was stuck with him, for the most part... or maybe it was the other way around.
Dave:
Dave pulled his crossed-legs up closer to chest level so he could loosely hug his spread knees. Karkat’s dad? What? This is the guy Dave had heard about a couple times, but never in much detail. The only thing he really knew about Karkat’s family other than Kankri was that he came from foster care and had a douchebag of a father. “Shit, are you serious? Your dad? That shit is fucked. How’d he even find you? Are you telling Kankri?” Woah Dave, hold up. Keep your cool, playing 20 questions is for lame people who are all too eager. Keep it cool. Gotta stay cool around this guy… But damn, Karkat’s dad is trying to get ahold of him. Dave figured it’d be serious, but he didn’t think it’d be something like this. He knew Karkat had issues but he had always figured that the dude just bitched about the same old thing, nothing that could still affect him now. Maybe he really didn’t know Karkat that well at all, or at least less than he thought he did.
Karkat:
"No, of course I'm just fucking kidding! I'm joking with you, Dave. This is all an elaborate prank that includes pulling your rabbit out of a hat and getting you to eat wasabi pellets that are shaped like your dumb fluffy hop beastie's ass droppings. Jesus christ of course I'm serious!" He hisses defensively, curling up into a ball and yanking his hood over his head. "And hell if I know how he found us. Maybe he just had an unfortunately correct guess that he pulled out of his chagrin chute and sent off the fucking bird.... I don't know if I'm telling Kankri though. Not like there'd be much point. Nothing will change. It's not like he gives a fuck about us after all these years anyway. One drunkenly scribbled chicken shit letter doesn't mean anything. Nothing. At all. Period." He mumbles, sounding more like he's reciting something he's already hashed out with himself than abruptly making a decision on the matter. He tugs on the ends of his sweater's hood strings anxiously, tightening it up around his face.
Dave:
Dave watched the hole of Karkat’s hoodie shrink in size around his face, trying to think of a less irritating response. As much as he liked to rile Karkat up, now was not the time for such douchebaggery. “Alright alright, you’re serious, I got it. But that doesn’t really sound like nothing, your grumbling is off the charts and I don’t know if rocking a cotton-blended hoodie mask is gonna help much, unless you’re planning to, like, mug me.” Seeing Karkat playing with his hood strings reminded himself not to fiddle with anything, or else he might come off as nervous. So, instead, Dave did the next best thing, which was running his hands through his hair. “I mean I’m not judgin’. Being around people who don’t care fucking bites, I get it.” Did… He just admit that? Shit. This isn’t therapy hour for you, Dave, your life rocks, remember?
Karkat:
Karkat peeks up at him finally, loosening his strings a bit at that little tidbit. Did Dave know? Or was he just saying that to placate him and get him gone sooner? He's inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt, if only because... well, he was at least listening to his bullshit. ".... Do you get it, though? I mean... you have your family. I mean sure, they're all your brothers, but... you have more than one, and... you've always had a home, right...?" He grumbles, pulling the hood from around his mouth so he can hear him a bit better since he complained. He sounded a little envious, really, but he hid it as best he could. He just couldn't help it. All he had until a few short years ago was Kankri, and his older brother was frankly pretty fucking unreliable when it came to handling shit. He didn't really blame him, though. The situation was shitty and... well, he shouldn't have had to deal with it.
Dave:
Dave pauses, not really sure how to answer. If he went on, he'd be bashing on his bros, who are chill as all hell. So chill, like ice fuckin' cold. To the point where when touched the nerves think AH SHIT THAT'S HOT at first. Like, that chill. But cold people aren't always that warming... Or caring. Or noticing. "Well... Yeah man, I have my bros, and I have a house." If he didn't go on, he'd just seem like an asshole who thinks he understands Karkat's fucked up past. "I don't how it feels to not have those at hand, but I mean the not caring thing, especially from someone like a brother who shouldn’t shut you out, that shit is just...” he stops and considers whether he should add onto that. For someone who rambles about himself a lot, doing it now sure felt wrong. “Not something anyone should deal with. So keep going on about you dude.”
Karkat:
Karkat gives a quiet hum, a look of understanding coming over his face as it dawned on him. Well, of course his brothers would probably be sort of emotionally disconnected. It made sense since... well, real feelings weren't exactly ironic, nor was sharing them with one another in heartfelt shows of affection. He looks back down once he figures it out, though, not wanting Dave to be able to look at his eyes when he has the advantage with hiding his. There's empathy in his own, though, along with an enormous amount of hurt and frustration. "I guess you do get it... Fuck... Sorry, I didn't think... I don't know. Just." He rubs his eyes hard, wanting the ache to go away and maybe trying to hide his face some while he continues. "Ngh... I feel fucked up.... I KNOW I'm fucked up. I'm not... like other people... Kankri either, really. I don't know how to deal with people. It's a fucking miracle half you assholes put up with me and somehow let me call you all my friends. I don't know how to talk to people and react like someone normal and- and it's his fucking fault. If he had kept us... if we'd had someone actually sit down and take interest in us and our welfare beyond a getting a pittance of a paycheck at the end of every month for letting us live under their roof, maybe we wouldn't be so fucked up. And now he's- now he suddenly feels sorry because he had a bit too much to drink and- he doesn't, though. He regrets having us, obviously, but not- not giving us away. Because if he did, and if our mother did, we wouldn't be like this!" He vents, spilling everything and growing more and more tense and angry by the moment. His voice is thick with the strain of keeping himself from screaming, muscles taut and shaking slightly as he grips his hair from under the hoodie and tugs hard. He had a horrible habit of hair pulling, which was part of the reason he didn't even bother ever trying to fix his thick black locks. Whenever he felt too angry he'd tug hard on it, the pain keeping him grounded and mussing up his horrible perma-bedhead even more.
Dave:
Wide eyes watch behind dark shades, and Dave was extremely thankful that his sunglasses hid them. He shifted on the bed, watching the other beat himself up over this. Does mentioning your own life help make someone feel better, or does it just make you come off as a self-absorbed asshole that wants to overshadow everyone else’s problems? Dave has been the latter. He has been that guy, and he knows it. He starts to think about whether that makes him even more fucked up, but stops suddenly in mid-thought to respond to Karkat’s situation.
“Woah, Karkat, deep breaths dude, stay with me here. Man of course you aren’t like everyone else, you are one weird little person. But so is John. And Rose. And Jade. And my bros, and their friends, the whole fuckin’ shebang. But they’re my best friends, weird is good yo. If you weren’t how you are now, do you still think people’s lives would be the same? I mean people like you man of course you are adorned with friends, even if you shout and shit all the time. You get some mad respect for it. Do you seriously think someone that fucked up would be willing to save a dumb ass first year who fell in the lake? Or run across the entire castle and back just to bring me my text book that I needed for my big exam- which I got an A on, by the way, I slaughtered that shit.” Dave paused for half a second- shit, is Karkat going to think it’s weird that he remembered that he did that? He shakes it off and moves on. “Or even stay all night in the hospital with your weirdass bro who like bees a lot to make sure he was as comfortable as a pig in a plush ass blanket? And you know how much those hospital beds suck, the mattresses are shit, remind me to talk to them about haulin’ in some Tempur Pedics later. But anyway no man, I don’t think we’d have Karkat the sick wicked fuckin’ pre-canonized saint here if things were different. Like how are you even you after all the shit you’ve gone through. I know your old man is a magnificently super-sized prick, but as far as I’m concerned you are the most humane of us all dog. Man your past is whack and uncool but you are truckin’ on like the little wizard that could. I mean you have amigos by the dozen around here and that’s gotta count for somethin’, right?” Holy shit. Dave marvels at how much he spoke, even with trying not to say a lot. He considered adding something else to the conversation in case he fucked up, but he decided he spoke enough as it is.
Karkat:
Karkat hisses through his teeth, eyes pink and wet with stubbornly unshed tears as he has what amounts to a mini meltdown on Dave's bed. He stops tugging so hard on his hair, looking over at him doubtfully and doing his best to keep the stupid trembling of his chin to a minimum. He feels stupid for even telling him all this horse shit, but... what Dave said did make him feel kind of better. He did, by whatever miracle, have friends, and people who cared about where he was and how he was doing, even if sometimes they were dumb and obnoxious about it. He appreciated it. He did. And he wanted to be a good friend back and worked so hard at it because he was tired of feeling lonely and isolated. It was selfish in its own way, he thought, but then everyone was a little selfish, right...?
He wipes his eye again with his knuckles, setting his mouth in a hard line as he forced down his anxiety over it all. Just because his father had abruptly tried to get in touch didn't mean shit. He was happy here, with his friends and Kankri and his grandfather, and... he was starting to get better, maybe. Compared to first year when he snapped and verbally tore into anyone who tried to get close to him, he'd mellowed out a lot. He could handle some of the smaller day to day touching with people without feeling overstimulated and nervous about tainting them with whatever the fuck was wrong with him. ".... Right. Yeah. It does. It counts for a lot. Thank you. I know we sort of started off rough when we first met, but.... for what it's worth... you're pretty much the best friend I've ever had. Didn't really have the time to get to know people before Hogwarts, and... well, I mean you put up with me more than anyone else... Shit, this is getting so fucking corny.... Shut up." He says preemptively, voice turning a bit warbly towards the end before he covers his face with both hands and groans at himself, shivering some. God he was such a fucking wreck, look at him. Spilling his guts to Dave fucking Strider and then crying over it like a diapershitting tool. Ugh. He does his best to wipe his face clean quickly, glaring at him through blurry eyes and daring him to comment on it.
It's long past curfew in the fourth year boys' dormitory, and Karkat has yet to fall asleep. He's been lying in bed and staring up at the ceiling for over two hours now, though that in itself wasn't all that unusual for him. His chronic insomnia meant he often had long nights where all he did was read trashy romance novels or complete his homework assignments. The only thing different about tonight was the fact that he'd gotten an awful letter that day from someone he would have never expected to hear from again. Apparently his father had sent him and Kankri a letter- one that had cut quick and deep. He didn't know whether or not to show it to his older brother- who hadn't had the chance to see it yet, thankfully, as an owl had brought it directly to him rather than wait for the morning at breakfast. While the contents hadn't exactly been coherent, he could tell the tone of the letter had been of regret but... well, it was fifteen years too late to fix his mistakes with Karkat, and another year for the ones he made with Kankri. He wouldn't forgive him. Ever. That much was settled for him. Still, his indecisiveness over what to do with the damn thing was killing him, and all the bad memories that were the result of his father's actions were starting to crop up again and dig him deeper into his anxiety. He twisted and turned on his bed, alternating between worrying more over it all and trying to think of things to distract himself. He was terrible at the latter, unfortunately... but Dave was always good at it, as obnoxious as he found it sometimes. He considers speaking up to see if the taller boy was still awake, knowing he often spent time working on his personal projects late into the night too, but he didn't want to disturb their other roommates. He does sit up, though, drawing back his bed curtain to peek out into the dark and see if he could tell. He just wanted someone to talk to... and it wasn't like he had any better options at the moment.
Dave:
Dave sat on his bed, surrounded by bed curtains that formed a small walled off space for himself and his projects, as he did nearly every night. Tonight’s focus was on his comic that he drew for the school newspaper, in which he submitted a few panels once a week. Many wizards had confronted him about it, questioning the poorly drawn art, barely readable grammar, and the meaning behind it in general. Purebloods, seriously. Dave spends an entire twenty minutes on each comic, which is more than enough time if you ask him, he’s a busy guy. And this skepticism for something he pours his heart and soul into? Where is the justice.
Though tonight, Dave wasn’t feeling it. Whether he was out of ideas or just couldn’t focus, he doesn’t know, but tonight is not the night for producing his usual comedy gold- it merits like a silver medal, at best. He gathered his pens and sheets of paper together, stacking them on his lap then reaching his hand through his bed curtains to set them on his night stand. A moment later, he heard the sound of pattering then rolling, which he heard stop about…. Of course, right under bed. Great job Dave, you dropped a pen again. Hope no one was awake to see or hear that. That could be embarrassing.
Dave let out a light exasperated sigh, and quietly slipped out through his bed curtains. He lowered himself to the floor, muttering quietly in his typical self-monologue while ducking his head and upper left half of his torso under his bed to reach around and feel for the rogue writing utensil, “C’mon pen, why you gotta be like this. You have one job. And in the pen world it’s like a job that majority of other pens can do, know your place dude. You can’t expand beyond your pen-lihood ways, this ain’t fuckin’ manifest destiny. Don’t snub your decorative duty, the fuck man, artistic license my ass more like artistic license to kill I /own/ you.” He continued quietly rambling to himself as he ran his hand across the floor, still in search.
Karkat:
Karkat is only mildly relieved when he sees Dave up, feeling a little envious of Strider's complete lack of worry or unhappiness. Honestly he didn't think Dave had any sort of problems, aside from running his fucking mouth all the time.... but Karkat did that too, so it was pretty damn hypocritical of him to hold it against him. He's still sort of anxious about even saying anything to Dave, not wanting to wind up burdening the seemingly care-free boy with his stupid issues and not really knowing how to approach him when he needed some kind of help. He never asked Dave for help with anything, so there was no set precedent to this. He hesitates before thinking to hell with it, getting out of bed and standing where Strider was bent over looking for his pen, apparently. Nudging him with his socked foot, he whispers as quietly as he can so he doesn't wake up the others. Which is to say he speaks at about what everyone else considers normal decibel.
"Psssst! Dave! ... Are you busy? What the fuck are you doing down there? The bogart under your bed is going to eat your ugly goddamn face if you keep sticking your vertebral lump where it doesn't belong. "
Dave:
Dave’s shoulders twitched, and a small yet solid thump could be heard from him hitting the back of his head on the underside of the bed. He hissed, muttered a quiet profanity, then paused a second before smoothly sliding back out. He stayed down on one knee, leaning against his mattress, playing it off as if the pen-incident had never happened. Fuck that pen anyway. “Huh? Oh, I was just doin’ my comics. Same old news, nothin’ of import to be told about. Still as hilarious as ever.” Dave stood and leaned against one of his bedposts, his calm disposition now back in full swing, “Anyway let’s talk about you. You’re up especially late, what brings you over to my bedstead during this fine night?”
Karkat:
Karkat had winced unseen when Dave hit his head, not having intended him to hurt himself and belatedly realizing he should have probably waited until the other boy had been out of harm's way. He stifles the urge to apologize, though, knowing Dave wouldn't appreciate having the slip up pointed out. No one liked weakness pointed out, even if there was no one that could quite deflect it like a Strider. He still gives him a look, knowing Dave knew he knew what he did though. Something like that. Whatever.
"Uh huh. So hilarious. Maybe to you and your brothers with your whacked out sense of humor, but I still don't understand what the fuck is happening half the time. And, uh... as for why I am gracing your bed with my oh so magnanamous prescence... I think maybe it's better if we, um. I mean. You know it's... Fuck me in the ass, shut up." He looks flustered, having a hard time getting the request worded right. Without, you know, giving Dave a clear shot at making it sound like he's making a goddamn pass at him. Stupid. "... I think we should get on your bed together. And put a silencing charm around us. If that's okay." He's turned a little red in the darkness of the room, still whispering loudly as he shifts his weight from one side to the other. Fuck it, the most Dave could do was laugh.
Dave:
A blond eyebrow was raised. Dave knew Karkat wasn’t like /that/. And he sure as hell knew that the request to sit on his bed in full privacy wasn’t any Vantass charm being thrown at him, something was up. But that doesn’t mean that he had to pass up an opportunity like this, it’d be a damned disgrace to. There will be no dishonoring the Strider family tonight, not on his watch. “Well shit Karkat…” Dave pushed the curtains adjacent to him open and lied across his bed on his side, propping his head up with one arm and running the other over his thigh dramatically. “I mean my bed is open, like grand opening of Walmart open with needy greedy moms and free samples and a full staff if you feel me, but I wasn’t ever expecting to see you in line to check out the merchandise. Like what even are the odds of this serendipitous moment. I mean the silencing charm isn’t necessary, I don’t really consider myself a screamer fyi but I guess if you know you can’t keep your volume down then by all means work the magic to prepare for my magic.”
Dave paused for a second to let his words process in the other’s head before immediately sitting up, kicking the wall of curtain the rest of the way open, and moving onto one edge of the bed. He had hoped that his comment, although hilarious and worth a fist bump from a certain sleeping brother, hadn’t upset Karkat enough to where he wouldn’t state his business. Maybe he should have saved that for later… Eh, too late now. “But seriously man, what’s going on?”
Karkat:
Karkat had grown increasingly irritated looking throughout Dave's spiel, exasperated even though he knew it was coming. The pink of his face was no longer purely from embarrassment, anger making his face flushed in the dim light leaking through the windows and Dave's small light source. "Your fucking nonstop motormouth is going on, obviously. God I knew you were going to do that. Every. Fucking. Time. Unbelievable." He grumbles, no real heat in his words aside for a small note of irritation.
Crawling into the bed on the empty side, he studiously does not look at Dave's face, used to avoiding it with Dave anyway since it wasn't like he could tell what any of the Striders were fucking aiming their precious eyeballs at. He gets comfortable, pulling some of Dave's blankets into a psuedo nest around himself before waving his wand at the curtains with a murmer. They shut and he puts a muffliato charm on them, settling in. His legs cross and he makes sure they aren't in danger of touching, the habit a subconscious one that he's grateful Dave never tries to push or question. "... I just wanted to maybe talk a little. If you plan on being up some more. I mean I can go if not. Shit. I probably should have asked first. Well whatever you're fucking stuck with hearing my bullshit now because I'm not moving from this spot any time soon." He picks up a balled up piece of paper- apparently a failed comic- and throws it at Dave halfheartedly.
Dave:
Catching the crumpled paper ball, Dave reacts with an over exaggerated jolting motion, “Aw shit look out, Gryffindor beater comin’ through. Careful dude, if it were anyone of lesser coordination and straight up athletic grace than I, you might’ve taken some poor chumps head off. I mean with those enormous guns you’re sporting and all.” Dave tossed the balled-up comic page over his shoulder, finishing up his lighthearted sarcasm to move onto what he’s assuming to be a more serious topic. He wasn’t entirely sure what this was about, and he doesn’t know how much he’ll be interested in what he has to say, but Karkat was pretty alright in his book. So now was the time to channel Rose and her Lalistening, it’s not like he had anything better to do anyway (though he’d never admit that). Dave sat in an uncharacteristic silence- too tired to ramble much yet too awake to go back to sleep anytime soon- waiting for Karkat to say whatever was on his mind.
Karkat:
Karkat picks at his pajama bottoms, still not looking up as he tries to find the words for what he wants to say. Without the bullshit or the cursing to detract from his intent. He wasn't really... angry. Well, maybe a little. In comparison to his usual levels of frustration, he appeared rather melancholy. The bags under his eyes seemed a bit more pronounced, his shoulders slumping a bit from their usual hard, stubborn set.
"... I got a letter from my dad today." He answers in a quiet rasp, his voice as hoarse as always. "Fucking deadbeat asshole sent me a letter somehow. Well- sent me and Kankri one. I guess it couldn't get to him or I was closer to it delivered it to me but I- I probably wouldn't have even opened the piece of trash if I had known it was from that inflamed shitsquatting asstrumpet. Fuck!" He growls out half heartedly, feeling something twist in his stomach at saying it out loud. He felt small again and worthless, unable to connect with anyone. The only one he ever had any sort of lasting relationship he'd had so far was with his brother. And that was more because Kankri was stuck with him, for the most part... or maybe it was the other way around.
Dave:
Dave pulled his crossed-legs up closer to chest level so he could loosely hug his spread knees. Karkat’s dad? What? This is the guy Dave had heard about a couple times, but never in much detail. The only thing he really knew about Karkat’s family other than Kankri was that he came from foster care and had a douchebag of a father. “Shit, are you serious? Your dad? That shit is fucked. How’d he even find you? Are you telling Kankri?” Woah Dave, hold up. Keep your cool, playing 20 questions is for lame people who are all too eager. Keep it cool. Gotta stay cool around this guy… But damn, Karkat’s dad is trying to get ahold of him. Dave figured it’d be serious, but he didn’t think it’d be something like this. He knew Karkat had issues but he had always figured that the dude just bitched about the same old thing, nothing that could still affect him now. Maybe he really didn’t know Karkat that well at all, or at least less than he thought he did.
Karkat:
"No, of course I'm just fucking kidding! I'm joking with you, Dave. This is all an elaborate prank that includes pulling your rabbit out of a hat and getting you to eat wasabi pellets that are shaped like your dumb fluffy hop beastie's ass droppings. Jesus christ of course I'm serious!" He hisses defensively, curling up into a ball and yanking his hood over his head. "And hell if I know how he found us. Maybe he just had an unfortunately correct guess that he pulled out of his chagrin chute and sent off the fucking bird.... I don't know if I'm telling Kankri though. Not like there'd be much point. Nothing will change. It's not like he gives a fuck about us after all these years anyway. One drunkenly scribbled chicken shit letter doesn't mean anything. Nothing. At all. Period." He mumbles, sounding more like he's reciting something he's already hashed out with himself than abruptly making a decision on the matter. He tugs on the ends of his sweater's hood strings anxiously, tightening it up around his face.
Dave:
Dave watched the hole of Karkat’s hoodie shrink in size around his face, trying to think of a less irritating response. As much as he liked to rile Karkat up, now was not the time for such douchebaggery. “Alright alright, you’re serious, I got it. But that doesn’t really sound like nothing, your grumbling is off the charts and I don’t know if rocking a cotton-blended hoodie mask is gonna help much, unless you’re planning to, like, mug me.” Seeing Karkat playing with his hood strings reminded himself not to fiddle with anything, or else he might come off as nervous. So, instead, Dave did the next best thing, which was running his hands through his hair. “I mean I’m not judgin’. Being around people who don’t care fucking bites, I get it.” Did… He just admit that? Shit. This isn’t therapy hour for you, Dave, your life rocks, remember?
Karkat:
Karkat peeks up at him finally, loosening his strings a bit at that little tidbit. Did Dave know? Or was he just saying that to placate him and get him gone sooner? He's inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt, if only because... well, he was at least listening to his bullshit. ".... Do you get it, though? I mean... you have your family. I mean sure, they're all your brothers, but... you have more than one, and... you've always had a home, right...?" He grumbles, pulling the hood from around his mouth so he can hear him a bit better since he complained. He sounded a little envious, really, but he hid it as best he could. He just couldn't help it. All he had until a few short years ago was Kankri, and his older brother was frankly pretty fucking unreliable when it came to handling shit. He didn't really blame him, though. The situation was shitty and... well, he shouldn't have had to deal with it.
Dave:
Dave pauses, not really sure how to answer. If he went on, he'd be bashing on his bros, who are chill as all hell. So chill, like ice fuckin' cold. To the point where when touched the nerves think AH SHIT THAT'S HOT at first. Like, that chill. But cold people aren't always that warming... Or caring. Or noticing. "Well... Yeah man, I have my bros, and I have a house." If he didn't go on, he'd just seem like an asshole who thinks he understands Karkat's fucked up past. "I don't how it feels to not have those at hand, but I mean the not caring thing, especially from someone like a brother who shouldn’t shut you out, that shit is just...” he stops and considers whether he should add onto that. For someone who rambles about himself a lot, doing it now sure felt wrong. “Not something anyone should deal with. So keep going on about you dude.”
Karkat:
Karkat gives a quiet hum, a look of understanding coming over his face as it dawned on him. Well, of course his brothers would probably be sort of emotionally disconnected. It made sense since... well, real feelings weren't exactly ironic, nor was sharing them with one another in heartfelt shows of affection. He looks back down once he figures it out, though, not wanting Dave to be able to look at his eyes when he has the advantage with hiding his. There's empathy in his own, though, along with an enormous amount of hurt and frustration. "I guess you do get it... Fuck... Sorry, I didn't think... I don't know. Just." He rubs his eyes hard, wanting the ache to go away and maybe trying to hide his face some while he continues. "Ngh... I feel fucked up.... I KNOW I'm fucked up. I'm not... like other people... Kankri either, really. I don't know how to deal with people. It's a fucking miracle half you assholes put up with me and somehow let me call you all my friends. I don't know how to talk to people and react like someone normal and- and it's his fucking fault. If he had kept us... if we'd had someone actually sit down and take interest in us and our welfare beyond a getting a pittance of a paycheck at the end of every month for letting us live under their roof, maybe we wouldn't be so fucked up. And now he's- now he suddenly feels sorry because he had a bit too much to drink and- he doesn't, though. He regrets having us, obviously, but not- not giving us away. Because if he did, and if our mother did, we wouldn't be like this!" He vents, spilling everything and growing more and more tense and angry by the moment. His voice is thick with the strain of keeping himself from screaming, muscles taut and shaking slightly as he grips his hair from under the hoodie and tugs hard. He had a horrible habit of hair pulling, which was part of the reason he didn't even bother ever trying to fix his thick black locks. Whenever he felt too angry he'd tug hard on it, the pain keeping him grounded and mussing up his horrible perma-bedhead even more.
Dave:
Wide eyes watch behind dark shades, and Dave was extremely thankful that his sunglasses hid them. He shifted on the bed, watching the other beat himself up over this. Does mentioning your own life help make someone feel better, or does it just make you come off as a self-absorbed asshole that wants to overshadow everyone else’s problems? Dave has been the latter. He has been that guy, and he knows it. He starts to think about whether that makes him even more fucked up, but stops suddenly in mid-thought to respond to Karkat’s situation.
“Woah, Karkat, deep breaths dude, stay with me here. Man of course you aren’t like everyone else, you are one weird little person. But so is John. And Rose. And Jade. And my bros, and their friends, the whole fuckin’ shebang. But they’re my best friends, weird is good yo. If you weren’t how you are now, do you still think people’s lives would be the same? I mean people like you man of course you are adorned with friends, even if you shout and shit all the time. You get some mad respect for it. Do you seriously think someone that fucked up would be willing to save a dumb ass first year who fell in the lake? Or run across the entire castle and back just to bring me my text book that I needed for my big exam- which I got an A on, by the way, I slaughtered that shit.” Dave paused for half a second- shit, is Karkat going to think it’s weird that he remembered that he did that? He shakes it off and moves on. “Or even stay all night in the hospital with your weirdass bro who like bees a lot to make sure he was as comfortable as a pig in a plush ass blanket? And you know how much those hospital beds suck, the mattresses are shit, remind me to talk to them about haulin’ in some Tempur Pedics later. But anyway no man, I don’t think we’d have Karkat the sick wicked fuckin’ pre-canonized saint here if things were different. Like how are you even you after all the shit you’ve gone through. I know your old man is a magnificently super-sized prick, but as far as I’m concerned you are the most humane of us all dog. Man your past is whack and uncool but you are truckin’ on like the little wizard that could. I mean you have amigos by the dozen around here and that’s gotta count for somethin’, right?” Holy shit. Dave marvels at how much he spoke, even with trying not to say a lot. He considered adding something else to the conversation in case he fucked up, but he decided he spoke enough as it is.
Karkat:
Karkat hisses through his teeth, eyes pink and wet with stubbornly unshed tears as he has what amounts to a mini meltdown on Dave's bed. He stops tugging so hard on his hair, looking over at him doubtfully and doing his best to keep the stupid trembling of his chin to a minimum. He feels stupid for even telling him all this horse shit, but... what Dave said did make him feel kind of better. He did, by whatever miracle, have friends, and people who cared about where he was and how he was doing, even if sometimes they were dumb and obnoxious about it. He appreciated it. He did. And he wanted to be a good friend back and worked so hard at it because he was tired of feeling lonely and isolated. It was selfish in its own way, he thought, but then everyone was a little selfish, right...?
He wipes his eye again with his knuckles, setting his mouth in a hard line as he forced down his anxiety over it all. Just because his father had abruptly tried to get in touch didn't mean shit. He was happy here, with his friends and Kankri and his grandfather, and... he was starting to get better, maybe. Compared to first year when he snapped and verbally tore into anyone who tried to get close to him, he'd mellowed out a lot. He could handle some of the smaller day to day touching with people without feeling overstimulated and nervous about tainting them with whatever the fuck was wrong with him. ".... Right. Yeah. It does. It counts for a lot. Thank you. I know we sort of started off rough when we first met, but.... for what it's worth... you're pretty much the best friend I've ever had. Didn't really have the time to get to know people before Hogwarts, and... well, I mean you put up with me more than anyone else... Shit, this is getting so fucking corny.... Shut up." He says preemptively, voice turning a bit warbly towards the end before he covers his face with both hands and groans at himself, shivering some. God he was such a fucking wreck, look at him. Spilling his guts to Dave fucking Strider and then crying over it like a diapershitting tool. Ugh. He does his best to wipe his face clean quickly, glaring at him through blurry eyes and daring him to comment on it.