Dave Strider (
wheremakingthishapen) wrote in
mayfield_rpg2012-02-12 01:53 pm
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Entry tags:
freestyle rap-off: first verse
|action|
[Dave wakes from what feels like a particularly refreshing nap, the first one he's had in days... which surprises him, because they're usually filled with horrible monsters his sister would describe as eldrish? eelrelish? Some obscure five-dollar word she's always using in her conversations with him. Whatever the case, it's the first indication that he's not where he's supposed to be, which was on a meteor rocketting through the Furthest Ring at nearly the speed of light. The second is the fact that he's actually on a bed, and a comfy one at that, not a pile of disturbingly decapitated plush dragons. Instinctivelly, he reaches out for his shades... but they're nowhere to be found. That's the last straw, he thinks to himself; paradox space has fucked with me for the last time. He hops out of bed and throws open the curtains, flooding the unfamiliar room with light. Pictures of individuals he's never met line the walls, their poses indicating that they've known each other for quite some time.
Maybe one of his friends is around somewhere, one of the smarter ones that seem to be blessed with knowledge a cool kid like him is insultingly denied almost all the time. He makes his way down the hallway - how does he know his way around the house already? - and finds the phone. Somehow he knows what to do; he guesses it could be some more time shenanigans (isn't it always), but in the back of his mind he's pretty sure it's something worse.]
|phone|
Uh, hey. Rose, you out there? John? Jade? Karkat? Terezi? Hell, I'll even take the murder troll and the glowy one whose name I can't remember right now, no offense. Um, what the hell happened? Is this the new session already? It doesn't feel like it. Plus I can't find my circus pjs; don't get me wrong, they were goofy as shit, but I'm starting to miss them. It's like they were my captor and I've got Stockholm Syndrome for them: "Oh man I should make fun of you because you look like shitty cosplay but for some reason I want you all over my body like two people getting their grinds on". Except not that graphic 'cuz doing it with clothes is probably illegal here.
Anyway get back to me. Later.
[Dave wakes from what feels like a particularly refreshing nap, the first one he's had in days... which surprises him, because they're usually filled with horrible monsters his sister would describe as eldrish? eelrelish? Some obscure five-dollar word she's always using in her conversations with him. Whatever the case, it's the first indication that he's not where he's supposed to be, which was on a meteor rocketting through the Furthest Ring at nearly the speed of light. The second is the fact that he's actually on a bed, and a comfy one at that, not a pile of disturbingly decapitated plush dragons. Instinctivelly, he reaches out for his shades... but they're nowhere to be found. That's the last straw, he thinks to himself; paradox space has fucked with me for the last time. He hops out of bed and throws open the curtains, flooding the unfamiliar room with light. Pictures of individuals he's never met line the walls, their poses indicating that they've known each other for quite some time.
Maybe one of his friends is around somewhere, one of the smarter ones that seem to be blessed with knowledge a cool kid like him is insultingly denied almost all the time. He makes his way down the hallway - how does he know his way around the house already? - and finds the phone. Somehow he knows what to do; he guesses it could be some more time shenanigans (isn't it always), but in the back of his mind he's pretty sure it's something worse.]
|phone|
Uh, hey. Rose, you out there? John? Jade? Karkat? Terezi? Hell, I'll even take the murder troll and the glowy one whose name I can't remember right now, no offense. Um, what the hell happened? Is this the new session already? It doesn't feel like it. Plus I can't find my circus pjs; don't get me wrong, they were goofy as shit, but I'm starting to miss them. It's like they were my captor and I've got Stockholm Syndrome for them: "Oh man I should make fun of you because you look like shitty cosplay but for some reason I want you all over my body like two people getting their grinds on". Except not that graphic 'cuz doing it with clothes is probably illegal here.
Anyway get back to me. Later.
no subject
Dave? It's Mr. Egbert - John's dad. You probably don't remember me, but if you'd like to come over, we can talk about this over a slice of cake.
no subject
Oh, hey, Mr. Egbert. Yeah, I remember you; John used to ramble about you all the time. What's your address? I'll be on over in a few.
no subject
no subject
[Dave cracks open the front door and steps outside. A gentle breeze brushes by; the temperature hasn't been this nice for him for a long time. With address in hand, he starts making his way to Mr. Egbert's house.]
no subject
[By the time Dave gets to 311 Miller, there is already the scent of cake wafting out the slightly cracked window of the kitchen. Was Dad already working on baking something even before he answered Dave's call?]
no subject
Dave knocks on the door and greets Mr. Egbert with a curt nod but a slightly reserved stance. One never knows when he'll need to Strife with an adult, after all.]
Hey, Mr. Egbert. Did... did you just finish baking that cake? John told me you were good in the kitchen, but damn, if that thing tastes half as good as it smells you could probably put the Batterwitch herself to shame.
no subject
Things Dave may also have noticed on his way inside: the giant statue of Zazzerpan the Learned out on the front lawn. Since that's also pretty much a dead giveaway that Rose and her mom live here.
At any rate, Dad answers the door wearing oven mitts.]
Just now, yeah. You've got good timing. Come on in, have a seat.
[And as Dave makes his way through the house, he will also probably notice that the place is
tastefullydecorated with statues and paintings of both harlequins and wizards. Mom and Dad got them back at the same time, and they've been making the place feel like home. Dad whistles to himself as he heads back toward the kitchen to take the cake out of the oven.]no subject
Seeing the harlequins and wizards dominating the house, however, creeps him out a bit. Not so much as if they were smuppet rumps and probiscuses, mind, but nevertheless, he feels their stares penetrating him. He was warned about stares, however, so he should have seen this coming.]
Uh... thanks. Love what you've done with the place?
[Dave pushes aside a large harlequin plush and takes a seat. He turns toward it suddenly, expecting it to flash-step around and try to harass him. He needs to remind himself that that's not Cal, however; it's just a creepy clown.]
no subject
Thanks. It's a bit of a joint effort between the two of us, I guess you might say. We're still working on it, but I'm happy with how everything's turning out.
[Dad sets the cake down on the table, carving off a slice for Dave and one for himself.]
Dig in. Hope you like chocolate.
/threadjack
I'm sure you'll find the cake exquisite, considering it was made by the most skilled baker in town.
Re: /threadjack
Hey, Ms. Lalonde. Sorry about the whole "surprise, you've got a son" routine; should have figured Rose wouldn't have mentioned anything about it before, what with her being harder to crack than Fort Knox.
[Picking up a piece of cake, Dave nods to Mr. Egbert and takes a bite. To use a cliche but apropos phrase, his taste buds take an acrobatic fucking piroutette - of joy - off the handle and right into his pleasure lobe.]
no subject
[Dad laughs, sliding a plate with a piece of cake on it over to Mom's seat at the table before she's even fully settled.]
Just chocolate today. Didn't have time for anything too special.
no subject
[She takes a thoughtful sip of her martini.]
And it may be one better left for another time. I believe it's a more pressing concern at the moment for Dave to receive a proper explanation of his current circumstances.
no subject
Eventually he finishes his meal, absentmindedly wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.]
Yeah, that'd be a great place to start. We can put off talk about genetic surprises for another... time. [Dave pauses for a bit, but realizes that he cannot physically duplicate the custom sunglasses emoticon he'd normally use after such a "pun".]
So, first things first, since you guys seems to be all up ons the haps here... where exactly are we? I'm starting to think it's not related to Paradox Space like we know it, right?
no subject
[Dad gestures to mom. They're gonna tag-team this explanation.]