Hitched Breath
Ugh. Why does my head hurt so much?
Why am I so cold?
…
Where am I?
This wasn’t his room. This wasn’t even a room. He jolted upright, head swinging back and forth rapidly to take in his surroundings. No planet he’d ever seen before. Well, not that the surrounding trees were indicative of any particular planet. The main distinction was the moon, if one could even call it that. Large, red, clearly sinister. No moons were that large and red without being suspicious as hell. good moons were small and white, or blue. Bad moons were big, red, or black. Yes, a blacklit moon. Those were the really scary ones, because black wasn’t even a color that could glow.
Moon shit aside, it was raining. And - back to moon shit for a second - despite the heavily overcast sky, the moon was STILL VISIBLE. Innumerable red flags, really. It wouldn’t have been so bad that it were raining, if it weren’t for the fact that he were outside, sitting in a muddy puddle like a chump. He did not like doing things like a chump. He stood up and looked down at his damp, soggy, dirty clothes. Fuck. Not a good start to the day, really. That was totally ignoring the fact that he wasn’t wearing his pajamas. Er, his god tier outfit. They doubled as pajamas, just roll with it.
The point of the matter was that he was wearing a set of clothes that he had not even seen in a while. He gingerly removed the green jacket from his body, shaking out some of the excess drippage and holding it away from himself. The black shirt underneath was a bit damp, but not soaked. Lucky. Jeans were jeans, so they’d probably be okay with some time.
He had his glasses on, which was good. He tried to float up into the air to get a better view of the area, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. It was hard to explain, really. Usually when he used his powers they just sort of happened. It was like moving his arm, or shaking his head. Or walking. Just another body function. But that feeling of capability was no longer there. If he focused and tried really hard, nothing happened. He couldn’t fly, he couldn’t disapperate into the breeze, nothing.
That was bad. This was getting bad. It started bad, but it was getting worse. He clutched his head, feeling the wet strands between his fingers. Don’t panic, stay calm. You need to talk to somebody. Anybody. Where your phone? There’s nothing in your pockets. There’s a watch. What the hell is this? Some weird waypoint thing, like some kinda video game bullshit. Pesterchum. Good. Names? Friends, yes. Others. Not friends. Strangers. How weird.
Were there any more surprises he was supposed to know about? He twisted his body, examining every inch of his self that he could see. The only other oddity he could note was a barcode tattoo on his arm. And if that wasn’t ominous as fuck, nothing was.
Regardless, it was time for him to pick a name from those recognisable and see who knew what was going on. Maybe Rose, or Jade, or-
*brring!*
— turntechGodhead [TG] has begun pestering ectoBiologist [EB] —
TG: oh shit look what the dog dragged in?
—-
And with that, he was on his way. How had Davesprite fucked his wrist up? He’d ask when he got there, he supposed. John was sure that the story behind it was hilarious. He’d activated the waypoint sent to him and a little arrow appeared to point him along. Lovely.
He hadn’t even been walking for two minutes when the messages started rolling in. Rose, Terezi, real Dave, some girl named Jane. It was nice to know that he’d have nice company here. And Terezi. Talking to them helped the walk go by quicker, and he almost forgot it was raining until a crack of thunder sounded fairly close by, startling him. He nearly dropped his jacket in surprise, which would have been… inconvenient, to say the least. He tightened his grip on the article, shaking some of the excess water from his head.
After a short conversation with Rose, he took a short detour to gather some relatively dry sticks. He gathered a good armful, wrapping his jacket around them to keep them safe. Lucky for him, the outfit he was currently wearing had a belt, although it would not for long. He kept Rose’s advice in his head as trekked onward.
Not too long later he’d found him. Davesprite, although it was a little weird to call him that when he wasn’t really much of a sprite what with the legs and all. Yes, the wings were still there. Clearly. But at this point he was basically just a birdman, yes? But calling him Bird Dave would probably be insulting, although possible not as insulting as Fake Dave. But he wasn’t doing that any more either. So for now, Davesprite he would have to be, just for differentiation’s sake.
From the direction he’d arrived, Davesprite had his back to him, just standing there. He took off his glasses and cleared them up a bit, then replaced them on his head and cupped his mouth, trying to make his voice more audible over the pouring rain.
"caw! caw!"
Alright well he wasn’t sure how bad his wrist was, but it didn’t look too great- in fact staring at it he could see the bone protruding in a less than stellar sort of way. With a sigh he managed to shove it back into place- but decided to just hold his arm limp at his side for now. It wouldn’t do very good for him to actually put it to use. Good thing he was ambidextrous otherwise he might have lost the use of his dominant hand- as he used his left only slightly more than his right so the transition wasn’t particularly different.
There were a lot of people messaging him though and that was just a bit annoying in his own mind- of course he messaged John first which lead into some long-ass conversation, there was Rose who he shuddered at the thought of responding to, and Jaspersprite. Which he was okay, though his instincts told him to just bolt from the conversation- part of him just kept with it. Maybe because he always kind of liked cats? Well he also liked dogs too, there was really no preference between the two for him- maybe cats because they were more self-sufficient, though dogs were rather loyal and you could get them to do just about anything.
Wow ok no that was kinda going into weird Jade territory for him- could he have gotten her to do anything? Probably, he was fairly certain that dog part of her was just as loyal to her friends as Bec was to her. The thought alone made him feel a bit creepy, but he wasn’t the manipulative type- more so just the really fucked up line of thought kinda guy. Yeah. Very fucked up actually.
With a sigh he ran his right hand through his hair, wet bangs being shoved aside and most of it managing to be slicked back by the rain- though odd strands fell into his face and a few falling over his shades. His feathers were soaked through too- though they managed to repel more water than they soaked up thanks to their natural feathery oils. At least he still had a few eggs to eat- though no fire to cook them with or a way to even cook them at all. He’d hidden them in a tree nearby- just somewhere to keep them for now.
After a few messages he had given John his coordinates earlier- as easily as he could set his own wrist in place actually setting it was a different story. He could use his own clothes as a bandage to keep it in place- rip off a piece from his jeans or shirt or something and have John manage to wrap it in place. Y’know assuming he actually meant well and would help, if he was still pissed off over the whole ship thing it might be a different story- except that happened like three years ago technically? Maybe four of five for himself? Honestly he wasn’t sure of his age he just knew he wasn’t sixteen anymore. Something older.
And that’s when he heard it, a fucking annoying ass sound coming from someone who he regretted inviting out. Had he really dazed off that much? It’s not like his thoughts really traveled all that far anyway? Okay maybe they did, or maybe John was actually close by. It’s not like Davesprite was ALL that far from the Drop point. Well he kind of was but he was there just a few hours ago so it’s not like he was that far off.
"What, want me to say caw caw motherfucker again?" He muttered, turning around and lifting his wings once more a bit higher over his head, keeping them curved around him as a makeshift umbrella and to keep somewhat warm.
"Sup?"
John chuckled quietly to himself, shaking his head slowly. Maybe that was a bit of a dick move, but hey it was just a joke. Perhaps a bad time for a joke though, considering what he was here for. Like, medic work. Doctoring. Doctor Egbert, at your service. Or maybe more like Nurse Egbert. Private Egbert, Army Medic? Something of that nature, except for the fact that he had no fucking clue what he was doing.
Sup, Dave Sprite says, as if he don't know what's up. "Oh, nothing much. Eating cake, hanging out. Nice sunny day we're having, huh?" Dripping with what is definitively not sarcasm. "Anyway, I got some advice from Rose... As you already know, I guess." He grimaced, glancing down at his wrist and thinking about the fucked up intrusion on his conversations. "If you're ready to do this thing, I am. Actually, scratch that. Even if you are ready to do this thing, I most definitely am not."
