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[parodeity]

DAVE STRIDER

consider this your warning about stairs. itll just keep happening bro. im telling you man

VOICE | TEXT | VIDEO | ACTION

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[parodeity]

[ i hope the meta text isn't asking dave that question because dave hasn't known what the fuck he's doing since john egbert walked into his dorm room back in september. so. what the fuck.

john actually speaking startles dave enough that he remember words are, like, a thing.

and he should use those words. to say other words? ]

...what's the title? [ a stall while he tries to deal with Feelings is good, too. ]

[windeity]

[Cool, good to know nobody knows what's going on. So he's actually a little startled himself when Dave asks that question and his eyes avert again back to the keys.

The title? The title is something he thought of in his head but nothing he's said out loud.]

It does not really have a solid title. I just wanted to get it right in time.

[parodeity]

[ something he wanted to -

dave had been holding the camera steady but he lets his left hand, holding it, slide to his lap, getting a great shot of the bench. his right hands scrubs up under his shades like he has a sudden headache. he still can't figure out a reaction beyond oh to the song but there's an immediate identifiable emotion to what john just said and it is "annoyed frustration" mingled with "sheer relief". ]

Oh my god. I hate you? I hate you a little bit. [ goddamnit. ] You're so - so -

[ he's still recording this because he hasn't bothered to shut it off so that's happening ig ]

This is why you've been ditching me and pushing me away off and on?

[windeity]

[There's a soft laugh but to his credit he does at least look a little guilty.]

I'm really sorry. I probably should have maybe said I was just working on your present but I wanted to surprise you which now seems pretty stupid but um. Yeah. The first song I wrote was finished around the end of October but then I decided it was not good enough so I worked on this one.

[parodeity]

I thought you were gettin' a little tired of me. [ it's an honest statement born entirely out of confused surprise. which. john kept up their regular appointments, but even so. it's hard for dave to tell or believe if john wants anything in the same way or to the same degree dave does, and he's always half uncertain when he reaches out to initiate any sort of contact because while they've established the sleep thing should maybe stay the rest is all...

dave being an idiot? ]

An IOU would have worked. You didn't...

[windeity]

What? Don't be crazy, I could never get tired of you. [And honestly he looks a little alarmed by the notion. The unfortunate thing is he likes Dave too much.

Idly, even as he's talking, his fingers begin playing a slow different song. It sounds like it is missing elements but he's going along with it anyway.]

...I wanted to. Write you something, I mean.

[parodeity]

There are totally signs for it. [ says the kid who...can't...see the potentially glaring signs for the opposite because he's so fucking convinced it's impossible, but. is this really what he is going to do on the night of his eighteenth birthday. he's going to argue with john about whether or not john, who is playing him music on a piano in a room they broke into, is sick of him or not.

apparently. apparently this is what he's doing with his life. ]

Were. Are? [ he doesn't properly raise the camera again still but his gaze shifts to john's hands instead of his face. ]

[windeity]

[He takes a breath because yeah, okay, he's going to prep for a fight.]

What signs, Dave? What are you actually talking about right now?

[parodeity]

...This isn't what I want to do right now. I mean, it isn't what I mean to do -

[ upset john. upset himself? argue about stupid things that are or aren't true, but. ]

I can't tell. If you do or don't like it when I touch you, outside of the context of the whole...thing we don't talk about. [ flaps his right hand, the one without the camera, vaguely. ]

[windeity]

[Haha what about no? He lets his hands go still but he stares at the keys again.]

...I do not mind it. It's a nice reminder that you exist.

[parodeity]

[ what if he just kind of laughs to himself because he still cAN'T TELL is that just tolerating it and thinking it's kind of nice or actually wanting to hold hands and whatever or what?????

jfc he's not going to ask it was already ridiculous enough to say the first time. ]

So...you wrote a song. [ just. moving on and way the fuck away from that half-admitted insecurity because what is actually addressing your issues. kit had good advice but dave still can't bring himself to take it.

what if you just talk to him?

what if instead dave suppresses everything and pretends it's fine ]

[windeity]

[Dave is too insecure and nervous to ask and John's too blindsided to know what to say so he nods to himself. He swallows down a weird lump in his throat and he lets his hands slide into an aimless little tune.]

...it's fine if you don't like it. I am not going to be offended or anything. [Is that what this is?] But I wrote a song and I just...[There's a pause.] When I thought about you, this is what I wrote, and when I wrote it, I thought of you. There is no in between here.

[parodeity]

[ okay let's just breathe and go...away from that and try to focus on...

how he still is not reacting right why is he this way. ]

No in between? [ and yet instead of saying any of the things he should he's just puzzled and trying to figure it out and john's an enigma on the best of days recently but. ] What do you mean? Just...

[windeity]

I need time. [He blurts it out after that, eyes staring at his knuckles and not at Dave and god wouldn't it just be easier to say something?] I...do not take this as I need time away from you because that is not it. I need time to figure out how to explain things.

[parodeity]

[ um. blurting something out at dave startles him but it's just leaning back a hair and nothing further. ]

...Okay. [ okay, john can have however much time he wants for whatever this is (and dave is not quite willing to guess in the same way he isn't quite willing to try to parse the language of music notes because he's Wrong).

he isn't sure he can actually ask for a timeframe because of all people dave is aware that figuring things out and needing time might take minutes or hours or days or years or forever. and if it means living in a weird limbo where he's uncertain of his every move -

that's pretty much life. and his entire childhood. his first childhood. whatever. he can do that, for anyone he cares about. and for anyone he doesn't. ]

[windeity]

I'm sorry, I...there is a lot? [And there's a nervous laugh.] I have a lot I want to say but I do not want to say it and make things worse so I need time to fully understand it. That's okay, right? I don't. I'm not sick of you. I don't want you to think that.

[parodeity]

[ a slow shrug. ]

You can take as long as you want. Days or years or...the rest of eternity. This [ he indicates the piano and the room and the space between them ] can just be one of those things we don't talk about until then or until never. I will add it to the list?

[windeity]

I am afraid of scaring you away. [May as well throw that out there, too.] But I am also afraid of taking too long because you jump to conclusions before I can even say anything sometimes and I cannot really blame you but this is important.

[parodeity]

The opposite is way more likely. [ just...saying... ] And I'm tryin' not to read any of your shit right now because I'm gettin' all the wrong signals and translations. So no conclusions are being jumped to.

[ except like probably the wrong ones but WHATEVER. ]

John. It's cool. Just...do whatever you need? And this never happened 'till you say it did.

[windeity]

Some things have changed and I want to make sure this is going to be okay. That's all. I don't want to make this worse because you do not need my bullshit on top of yours.

[parodeity]

I can handle everyone else's bullshit fine. [ like.

well ]

...I understand if I am not, uh, a great soundin' board or comfort or whatever though, that is a good call. I admittedly do make things worse? It is like, a talent, only not the kind of talent that you would put on in a middle school talent show or that your parents would brag about to their friends. Although I feel like an impressive talent for well and truly fuckin' up is perhaps bragworthy. Like wow my son Jimmy he just can't do a damn thing right with his life, set him lose anywhere and he will somehow make a mess of things, even if you drop him in a cornfield in Iowa. Or a cowfield. Are there cowfields? A pasture of cows.

[windeity]

It's not you fucking up, idiot. It's me. I am going to be the one fucking up by pushing my luck and not being able to stop.

...also I think a pasture is the word you want.

[parodeity]

Pastures sound so morbid though.

[ but he's frowning and looking at john like he should be able to Get it but he just can't. ]

You've got the devil's luck, and I have never once known you not to press it and somehow come up on top anyway. It is almost annoying.

[windeity]

[...there's an off-kilter grin as he tilts his head suddenly.]

So tell me something. Do you think I should push my luck further?

[parodeity]

I am thinkin' you will eventually do so anyway regardless of my opinion? I would appreciate it if you did not engage in boss battles without prep, but otherwise I figure you will do you.

[ WHO FIGHTS A BOSS AT LEVEL ONE. ]

But also I think you should do whatever makes you happy. As long as that thing does not actually kill you, as stated two seconds ago.