there's no place like home.

indie john egbert blog. 18+ only.

[disposedheir-blog]

contumation:

Call me Elise, if that’s alright. 

John, I assume?

❝  elise. well, okay, sure!  ❞   a slyyy look.  ❝  hmm do you have any evidence to back your assumption, missus doctor therapist?  ❞

[disposedheir-blog]

palingveins !

❝  hi dave! i am taking the initiative to hug you since i know you are super lame about the proper greeting techniques of a life long bro.  ❞

[disposedheir-blog]

contumation !

i can not see for shit.

                         ❝  hi rose! ❞

[disposedheir-blog]

Your name is RUSH and you thought this blog was    fucking DEAD. It was resting peacefully six feet under,    rotting quietly away, before you suddenly 

                     [ S ] : R I S E     U P    so yeah, here you are, following a shit ton of blogs, and   reminding them that all posts preceding this one are from   a reeeeeally old au group that crashed and burned?

whatever.

YOU’RE DOIN’ THIS, YER MAKIN’ IT HAPPEN.

[disposedheir-blog]

Oh shit, look who's here! Good to know there's a good supply of nerdy humans in this shit hole.

we’re suddenly overstocked on gross spider trolls too! hehe. 

hi vriska.

[willfakedavepleasestandup]

Rough Landing

[willfakedavepleasestandup]

(...)

Do not be jelly, John. Just because Davesprite was gifted with such a fabulous fashion accessory while all John had was a pair of dweeby glasses. Besides, fucking English was pretty fun (both of them, winkwonk). Also, seeing as all bird school diplomas were printed out on cardboard to be the true essence of irony, Davesprite would advise John not to use them as toilet paper. Not only would it be ineffective as fuck, but it would probably be Hellaciously uncomfortable to boot. "John, you are the literal poster boy for trying too hard. Maybe lay off the sarcasm until you can handle its finer points and leave the tricky linguistics to the experts. Aka every Strider in existence plus Rose. And maybe Terezi. On a good day. No offense to the troll girl but sometimes the sarcasm can go right over that horned head of hers and damn if I don’t know there’s a cultural difference acting as an obstacle but the point stands." Davesprite quirked a brow. Really, John, it was fucking mud and it was sticking to his everything. Maybe he was a bit of a freeze baby. Maybe that was why he had been blessed with all these damn feathers. Weather aside, he totally had his marriage license. Know where he got it from? Fucking bird school. For birds. Caw caw motherfucker. As for happy endings… Davesprite honestly had not given it much thought. He had figured as a sprite and thus technically a game construct, he would end with the game. He had not been expecting to head on through the door with all the rest into the new universe. He was relatively certain the other sprites had felt the same way. Just sharing some innate sense or intuitiveness to help cushion the fact they could not move on with their respective charges. Davesprite had accepted it a long time ago, while having three years to think himself to death on that ship. It played a large part in his eventual decision to break things off with Jade. He had been fully prepared to get left behind while the other Dave went on ahead to claim his well-earned happiness. Now, it seemed he could not even be wiped away with that small peace of mind. John drew Davesprite out of his musings and soon after managed to coax out an eye roll from the bird boy. “Yeah, hilariously pissy. You say I’m being a cranky bird. Ha! Karkat invented the damn word. He’s probably not responding to you just to be a prick. Last I checked, it sounded like he had the biggest hateboner in all of Paradox Space for you. I doubt getting tossed into a new game changed that shit, bro.” He was hardly amused by learning this tidbit, though. Had Karkat drifted apart from John, too? Was he avoiding him? The kids in general? Perhaps it really was for the best if he refrained from messaging the troll. He looked over in slight surprise and anxiety when John started to move again. He leaned forward; then hesitated, pulling back. Davesprite still was not one hundred percent sure he was welcome to join the Crockerberts. His fists clenched lightly at his sides and his composed face flickered only slightly as he watched the other boy’s retreating back. A response was on the tip of his tongue when the heir actually waved him along. His eyes widened slightly and his wings twitched but he quickly did his best to hide the reaction as he strode after the bespectacled teenager. For the first time, he hardly even noticed the mud as he trailed after whom he had always considered to be his best bro. "Look forward to meeting your teen Nanna, John. Too bad she can’t bake all her delicious goodies to her little heart’s content. I would be all over that shit. Your best customer; hands down. Not to worry, Egbert. I’ll eat up all those nightmares so you can rest easy. The birb is on the case." Davesprite’s teasing, lilting (almost birdsong-like) tone returned with the relief of being invited back to some shelter and warmth. Though he scoffed at John’s reeling optimism and blind confidence in the virtues of literally everyone. "Well I can’t freely admit to knowing for sure without being a dirty liar. But it’s easy to draw certain conclusions about a large chunk of those that might be inhabiting the planet, John. Just because Karkat wouldn’t go on a murder spree, that doesn’t mean everyone else will diligently follow in his footsteps. They didn’t in SBURB, did they? Some of these people, they have tigers and lions and vicious Hellbeasts repressed deep inside them. Is there a chance they would be totally okay with directing some of that pent-up bloodlust at our mutual enemy? Yeah. But trying to coordinate literally dozens of people into channeling their efforts towards that goal without stepping on a few toes and sparking a few fires is a nearly impossible feat in and of itself, John. Not even including the factor of it being a one-friendleader or even two-friendleader job. It’s great you got a plan and confidence but try to be at least a smidge realistic here for your ol’ buddy Dave, would ya?"

[disposedheir-blog]

Alright. John could concede that Davesprite's eyewear were cool. Possibly cooler than the dude who's nose they were perched on! That was like a 99:1 possibility in fact. Poor Davesprite. Outshined by a modest piece of eyewear that touched Ben Stiller's "weird, sort of gaunt" face at once place. It's okay, though. John might not be able to use the bird school's diploma for toilet paper- since apparently birds couldn't afford paper, so John assumed, and went divebirbing for dumpster cardboard- but Davesprite could definitely use it as a hobo sign, advertising himself as bearer of the coolest shades and the most thoughtful gift ever. End of story.

"Uhm, Davesprite, don't shoot the messenger here, but there's an even bigger contender for the title of Sir Mr Dr Tries Too Hard and you can find him in two easy steps! One, step in front of a mirror and, two, stare long and hard at your reflection and wonder how you blow harder than the Heir of Breath himself." He'd be more offended if Dave wasn't so blatantly biased. And he didn't get the pleasure of talking to Rose when she went certifiably grimdark, so he didn't know how Rose was capable of spewing nonsense and screaming into a pillow in the most adorabloodthirsty display of frustration ever. So. That proved something. John didn't know what, but it definitely proved something.

Unless John saw this mythological diploma that granted Davesprite all these legal rights, he was gonna call complete and total bullshit. Because that's exactly what this sounded like. Exactly what it was. Striders and Rose, and probably Terezi, could be so full of shit! Naturally, John had to be at least a little bit skeptical. 

"You both are cranky, how's that?" John suggested, nudging Davesprite with his elbow- the one free of a bundle of dead rabbit. "And uh, ew? Trolls are so weird," he laughed. "I don't want him to hate me, y'know? I want us to be the friendliest of friendleaders." And it was awkweird that Karkat might be harboring some kind of alien lusty hate boner for him. John couldn't quite explain it, because he did really like Karkat. The guy was too funny and John's reverse trolling antics were the best cross species prank series in the history of Paradoz Space were targeted directly at one (1) Karkat Vantas. John couldn't just ignore that sheer amount of awesome.

The Striders could play cool as much they wanted, but John was wise to how Davesprite was tripping over himself. The guys actually thought that John was gonna leave him in the middle of a pseudo swamp! He didn't know whether to be insulted or super sorry. He'd let it go for now. After all, he still owed Davesprite a royal kick to the tailfeathers for pulling that crap on Jade. Jade was fucking amazing??? Why would he break up with her. It didn't compute. The only reasonable explanation was that Davesprite was a dumbass.

"Gosh, thanks Dave. I don't know how I would survive without you! Am I swooning? I think I might be. Our metaphor bakery thanks you. The extra sesame seed is on the house." Although, John didn't really need protecting? Since he was practically top tiered as Breath, he was finding it pretty dang easy to get the hang of his current limited grasp on wind. Nightmares happened, sure, but. Kind of standard, he guessed. As much as John didn't want Davesprite stressing about him, he knew Davesprite would sulk for eons if John shoot down his knight in shining armor, feathers and all. 

"I mean, okay, just saying one troll out of all of them is pretty lame odds. But Terezi wouldn't do anything crazy. Well. She would, but not like bad crazy. More like eccentrically helpful and maddeningly unconventional. And I met Meenah once! She seemed genuine when she said she didn't want to kill me! Like a compulsive gambler trying to reform! That's something. And I know not everyone will attempt show up, or manage to show up." John waved his hand airily. It wasn't airtight, but John had an aversion to airlock anyway. It was all nuances. They'd hammer out the details later. (Heh, pun combo x2, that could go straight into the prankster's gambit.) "But I really am hoping Karkat shows up. Or Roxy? They're pretty good at handling people. In their own ways, heh." He shrugged a shoulder, shooting Davesprite an expectant look. "That enough realism? Or is this mother hen impression gonna keep on keeping on?"

[willfakedavepleasestandup]

Rough Landing

[willfakedavepleasestandup]

(...)

John please the way you worded that made it sound like Davesprite was the one getting pregnant. He did not plan on laying eggs any time soon; be they grammatical or otherwise. As for the terrifying disease coined “grammar nazism”, he was basically born with an immunity. All their shared pesterlogs should have conveyed that much. Davesprite could not give less than a shit about grammar in all its many nuanced forms. Just as it seemed John could not give less than a shit about the subtle and nuanced ways of coolness and irony. Shame. This was exactly why he never would have been able to get into the bird school for birds. Tsk tsk. "I am not cranky. Disgruntled by all this damn mud and waking up with my face in a puddle? Maybe. But I am nowhere near the cranky tier of my moodiness echeladder, Egbert. Try again. Or better yet, don’t and quit while you’re behind." Davesprite did his best to match John’s easy, nonchalant tone and succeeded for the most part. Fucking Breath players. Always so flippant and optimistic. If he liked the mud so much maybe he should just marry it already. Davesprite would be more than happy to wed the pair into happy matrimony so they could enjoy the "little things" together for all eternity. Damn, his inner pessimist was strong today. Probably due to the circumstances. Of course Davesprite hoped Rose is doing well wherever the game may have decided to drop her off. He may miss her presence and her wisdom (even with the psychoanalytic birdshittery) but he hardly wished she was stuck in the same sorry situation as the rest of them. As their clones. It was painful for him to think about. Having another Davesprite to try and measure up to on top of Dave himself; even if said sprite-turned-human was long dead. Had died to orchestrate his own appearance on the planet. Technically speaking, he would not exist were it not for that Davesprite. Hell- would any of his clones exist were it not for the original copy? Had he been placed here and died ages ago? Or was he happily living somewhere else, like Rose, and merely his character had been ripped to create endless copies of? The “in a better place” comment flew right over his head. Davesprite was spiraling into a major exostential crisis as John jumped ahead to answer his questions. What eventually snapped him out of it was the mention of a familiar name. “Terezi?” Of course, he had recognized her handle on the messenger. However, he had been a bit more concerned about Rose’s not being there to really take note of it. Now John had his full attention as his mind drifted to the one troll he had been closest to out of the bunch. Was she still blind? Was she doing well? Was she kicking ass and taking names? Did… she remember him? There was something about Vriska and Jane in there too whom he vaguely recognized the names of but he only responded with slight nods until the other boy had finished speaking. "Glad I missed it. Shitty as all this wet crap is, at least I’m not freezing to death." Even if the breeze coupled with said wet crap made it a bit chilly. "Cryptic and wily sounds right up Terezi’s alley. I’m shocked you’d suspect to get otherwise out of that snarking, cackling troll. You’d probably have better luck with Karkat on a bad day. Then again what the fuck am I even saying? All of his days are bad." Davesprite had noted said troll’s handle as well and was still mentally debating over the merits of shooting him a message. Maybe later. When he knew more about the place and the situation of everyone involved. Hell, Karkat probably only had time for actual Dave, anyway. After all the time they had spent on the meteor together. The thought nearly dragged him down again but he quickly shook it off and rustled his feathers to stay on track. "Sorry about Vriska, I guess, even though it sounds like you two broke it off already. Somehow I’m not surprised you’re living it up with your teenage Nanna. Heard she bakes a damn good cake so she can probably cook up anything you nab too. Hell, just having a shelter must be hella. Still playing the friendleader even in this new game, huh Egbert? Making a base and bringin’ everyone together. It’s not a bad idea, except for the fact most of that everyone are incredibly volatile and aggressive. A handful of which dip even further into the ‘oh shit’ scale towards dangerous and psychotic. Particularly the trolls. I know they’re not all murder happy but didn’t a few of them go on killing sprees? All I’m saying is you might want to think this plan through a little more before you go firing off coordinates to everyone and their mother or lusus or whatever." Having a dry, warm place to sit down and rest sounded fantastic, though. Davesprite shifted from foot to foot and wondered how John might react to a request of joining the little base rendezvous early. He knew next to nothing about Jane but John was the first person he had met here, was someone he knew well, and seemed to be doing well on top of it. Secure. With his entire world having just been shaken up like a snowglobe, stability was something he needed right about then. He did not want to seem like a desperate moocher though because that shit was not cool.

[disposedheir-blog]

Seemed like the criterion for getting access to bird school for bird was a feathery boa and a penchant for fucking English (but not not-Grandpa), so John was pretty much okay with this turn of events. He would to inform Davesprite, however, that a diploma from birb school was good for one thing and one thing only. John would use that diploma as really nice toilet paper.

"Uh huh. You are doing a really good job of convincing me, Davesprite! I am so convinced. The most convinced." John smirked. Really, Davesprite, it was just some dirt and water mixed together. It wasn't even slushy at this point, so Davesprite couldn't complain about frostbite. He didn't see the big deal. Plus, he doubted Davesprite had his marriage license, and John didn't want his holy matrimony to be a shame. Maybe it's best for everyone if they didn't rush things. Besides, the mud was giving him strong hints that it'd disappear when the weather got warmer. And John was a long term kinda guy, if he was being honest. 

His hypothetical happy ending had originally been a beautiful wife and a loving child, two story house with a white pickup fence. Attending soccer games and science fairs. Over time, he never really could picture his wife. It used to be Rose, but eventually that crush got crushed beneath the weight of the Game. Now, his dream encompassed a life off this doomtrap planet, with no more interruptions from otherwordly entities. Once was enough and twice was just excessive.

It was still funny thinking about how he used to reenact the reunion scene at the end of Con Air. Thinking about his ole wifebeater and shredding guitar solos made him miss Casey a little, who often reprised her role as Poe's daughter. But that was an old wound. John had gotten over the loss of his daughterlizard years ago. No normal salamander could ever hold a candle to his dear, sweet Casey.

More immediate was his ache for the Lalonde sisters. Rose was definitely unavailable for a reassuringly disturbing analysis, but he hadn't gotten word from Roxy yet. She could be busy, kicking ass and unraveling the mysteries of their new planet, and thus having way too much fun to answer his message. John preferred to follow that train of thought, because there was no iteration of Lalonde that wasn't deadly in their own right. 'Least John knew Rose's mom was still up and at 'em. That was a pester he wasn't about to forget anytime soon.

"That's the spirit," John said, still sniggering behind his encouraging smile. What a fussy bird. "And I'll not have you speak such untruths about my fellow friendleader. Dude's hilarious! He just can't bring himself to send me a goddamn message because he's too busy being hilarious and huffy." Ngnn. There were too many uncertainties where his friends were concerned. Was it really too much to give a shoutout to the friendly neighborhood palhoncho? But at least he knew for sure that Dave and Jade and Jane were alright. And Mom Lalonde and Davesprite too, now.

"Yeah, we broke it off a long time ago."John shrugged, turning and heading back toward the location of base Crockerbert on foot. Until Davesprite got off his lazy ass, he'd have to hoof it like a mere mortal. "But never fear, Jane is a much better roommate, I think. Although we don't have the necessary ingredients to open our own bakers, see also: ew, my worst nightmare?" He waved Davesprite along with his free hand, indicating the birdboy should follow him to relative safety and a warm fire for the night. "And how do you know whether everyone's aggressive or whatever? Like I know Karkat wouldn't go around slaughtering people. I know it in my soul, Davesprite. I can feel the repressed kitten cute radiating off the guy." Which brought to mind the time John had ambushed both Karkat and Dave into a tender bro embrace in one fell swoop. It was legendary. "And, I mean, we all have a common enemy, and it's douche in the sky with diamonds. If we can redirect any murder happy- if there's even any- towards the Overseer, then who's to say it's a bad thing?"

[willfakedavepleasestandup]

Rough Landing

[willfakedavepleasestandup]

(...)

Of course he used protection. Davesprite was a clean bird. He was not about to be the father of a bunch of grammatical little chickadees; no siree. Now the father of flight, that was something he could be. He was the damn principal of the bird school for birds. He taught every class personally and only the best of the best went on to earn their birplomas. John probably did not even have what it took to get in the damn doors. Davesprite rolled his eyes at the other’s bragging and kept his arms crossed securely over his chest. The essence of “coolkid” pose. "Yeah, yeah. If you count falling with style as an ‘aerial stunt’. That’s like comparing a cannonball to a high dive, John. I just haven’t felt the need to spread these sick babies out and take to the skies yet. Still enjoying the new legs, y’dig? I mean I was a floating tail for a long time there. You’d miss walking around on solid ground too." Yet joking and teasing aside, the situation was really ruffling his feathers. Davesprite might have actually tolerated a muddy hug from John in that moment. Yet perhaps it was for the best they kept their distance from each other. The situation was different. He was still rather rooted in the game, whereas John had been around this new world for long enough that it had left a noticeable change in him. The feathers that had puffed up slimmed into their normal fluffy state at John’s answer. Davesprite was not sure if he should be relieved she had dodged this weird ass twist of fate, disappointed she was not around or just plain worried about why she was missing in the first place. It wound up being a strange, awkward mix that did little to help his empty, cramping stomach. His arms and wings drooped a fraction but he did his best to keep his face its usual Strider blank slate. “Oh. Okay. I guess that makes sense. Seems like a pretty damn stupid question now, haha. Bet she would’ve hated dealing with all this shit.” John sounded about as enthused as Davesprite was so the topic change- while hardly more pleasant- was an improvement none the less. He let the gears turn in his head while it tilted the other way and he stared John down. The explanation churning away in his brain to pick out each little connotation. Forming assumptions based on what the other had told him thus far. “Of course it is. My bad for hopin’ just this once somethin’ might be simple and not convoluted to Hell. Figures even going into a different game all together wouldn’t stop that from being the case. Anyway, so there’s only one of us running around at a time? And the clones come in when…” The compliment goes right over Davesprite’s head as the realization hits. Of course. There was no other conclusion to come to but the obvious and he would have paled were it possible with his already death-like skin tone. "…oh. So then, if I’m here, the Davesprite you knew last was…" He nibbled at his lip a moment and stared at the mud before glancing back up at John. No wonder he seemed so uncomfortable. He was basically talking to a… replacement. Ugh. Fucking. Davesprite did not need that comparison right now. He was already a different Dave. The last thing he wanted to be was a different Davesprite He resisted the urge to drag his hands- human, no longer talons- through his hair in frustration and guilt as he coughed awkwardly. “I see. Sorry for the loss. Even if other me was ornery I doubt realizing he’s dead somewhere is fun for you. Hell, I don’t really enjoy it myself, but…” Yeah, time for another topic change. Moving on. "Anyway, so you’ve been here a while? How’s everyone’s who’s not missing doing? Sounds like it’s been a rough time and I’ve only been around for all the mud so far. I doubt the trolls are having issues surviving and fuck if I doubt how capable we humans are and all but we can be pretty damn squishy know what I mean.”

[disposedheir-blog]

It was less about getting grammatically pregnant! More about contracting a disease, like spelling 'theatre' instead of 'theater' like normal people. Davesprite should be careful if he's gonna screw up English like that, because the effects were sounding like a tool and John's eternal scorn. No one even wrote 'theatre' anymore. And no one labeled crossed their arms and dubbed it a 'coolkid pose' aside from nerds, FYI!

"I think you're just cranky because you have mud on your cheek," John put in breezily. "You certainly sound cranky." John would be a little cranky too if he got splattered in the face while he was minding his own business, except John didn't have a branch up his ass. The entire world was basically mud.  S'long as you got someplace dry before sunset, it'd flake off eventually. Actually, all this mud was pretty good for your skin. John's face were baby bottom smooth.

It was all about the little things.

Like being thankful that the topic of Rose's whereabouts were dropped. If she wasn't here, John fervently hoped she was lightyears away, working on her manuscript or finding poor unfortunate souls to inflict her doctorterrorist psychoanalyst wiles on. Like, duh, he missed her and she always knew what to say and how to put things in perspective, but. John was happier that she wasn't stuck here.

It's a little painful talking about the whole cloning aspect with Davesprite. John knows- from being gifted with a pair of working eyeballs and from Jade- that Davesprite has some major issues about himself. Which was understandable since he was a sprite and he believed he didn't really fit in because there was already a Dave here. John tried to think of a diplomatic way of diverting the subject away from such a tricky subject.

"Yeah, well, he's probably in a better place now." In heaven. Like an angel. Davesprite quickly switched gears again, saving John from bulldozing his way through a conversational segue. Whew. That was a close one.

"A few weeks, yeah. This place used to be covered in snow, if you can believe it. But now that's all melted and we're drowning in goop. I was talking to Terezi a while ago and she was being cryptic and generally wily. So, I guess. I mean, I watch the contact list sometimes, trying to figure out who is who, and you notice a few things. Vriska's gone, I think. I was trying to figure out how to approach her after our last spat, but I don't have to worry about it anymore." He switched the bundle to his other arm. His brows beetled together, rueful at the thought. "I've been living with Jane. I had this plan of making our cave base of operations and sending our coordinates to everyone. Maybe we could all convene and figure out what the heck is going on, or something." Despite the fact there were, like, thirty people to contact, and half of them, John didn't even know.

[willfakedavepleasestandup]

Rough Landing

[willfakedavepleasestandup]

(...)

Grammatical rules could suck on Davesprite’s newly re-acquired dick. Run-on’s were fast and easy and he was going to damn well use them if he wanted to. The fact John had the humor in him to play along with the joke almost had him smiling, though. It was certainly a comfort to hear that dorky voice again. “Soon as I get the hang of these new feather dusters glued to my back I’ll be sure to give you a few lessons Egbert. Teach you some real style and class in the flight category. Make all our fellow aviaries swoon with envy.” All of him was muddy. And soaked. He would kill for a shower right now. Even the warmth was not much of a comfort to him. He glanced curiously at the bundle of coat tucked under John’s arm but did not poke his nose into it quite yet. There were more important questions to be answered and the other was going to be his Google whether he liked it or not. Rolling his eyes a little at the reference to Davesprite’s game occupation and the bespectacled boy’s own self-doubt. “Mmhmm sure yeah right well just try for me bro. I believe in you. I got the faith, the trust and maybe even a little of that pixie dust to make the explanation fly. Throw it at me.” He was not amused by the stalling. Cold, wet, dirty, hungry and disgruntled did not a patient bird boy make. He lifted his wrist to look at the computer curiously as John mentioned it. He had hardly taken a look at the thing but now he started messing around with it while he listened. Scoping out the menus and functions. “All right, all right, chill. So I see Jade, and the other Dave, and some of the trolls, handles I don’t recognize…. Where’s Lalonde’s?” Davesprite shifted his gaze from the device to John with a slight frown. “She’s okay, right? I mean, girl knows how to survive with the best of them. Bet she’d love to analyze this Overseer dude. Find out what their diabolical dig is. Why the fuck they decided to take us from our game and drop us in this newer, shittier version. Even if it did let me be a semi-human again. I mean walking took a while to get used to but God damn did I miss having a di-“ He paused mid-sentence at the addendum; blinking at John. Davesprite gave his head a slight tilt and furrowed orange brows over shades just a bit lighter as that statement registered fully. “Not the first Davesprite”, he said. Not the first. It made his feathers ruffle and poof up a hair in discomfort. Empty stomach clenching with the onset of a growl or gurgle. “…what, there was another me, before me? Like in the dream bubbles? Are there just multiple copies of us wandering around this place? Is there another John you pull co-op pranks with? Did Jade finally get someone who understands to rub her belly and scratch her behind the ears? What fresh new Hell have we landed ourselves in here, John??”

[disposedheir-blog]

Wow. Hopefully Davesprite used protection while he went on rampaging sexscapades with all the rules of English he went on fucking, apparently. Anyway, John definitely had a whole army's worth of objections for the mere idea that he was in need of flight school. Leave school for the birds. Bird school. For birds. Hahaha! "You sure it won't be you in need of schooling. Out of the two of us, who just pulled off a rad aerial stunt? Trick question! Me, me, and only me, Dave sprite." He grinned toothily. But. It wasn't flying, what he was doing. It was like. Falling with style.

John heaved a sigh, using his free hand to rub at the back of his neck. Normal circumstances, and he would've pulled the grumpy sprite in for a hug, mud or no mud. But current topic- hell, the whole dumb situation- had him edgier than usual. It was harder to keep up the positive attitude here than in the Game. At least in the Game, he had cool powers and a pretty workable living conditions. How were you supposed to be chipper when you were cold and muddy all the damn time? John hadn't quite figured that particular quandary out yet.

Davesprite didn't make it any easier by asking about Rose. It was a repeat of John's awakening, only now John was the bringer of bad news, complete with a horrible sense of resigned sadness. "Rose isn't here," he said shortly. "Dunno what it means, exactly, but now she won't have to slog through mud with the rest of us." His rosy observation sounded flat. No doubt Davesprite would pick up on that particular fact. The bundle slipped a little, and he readjusted his hold, mindful that, while crude, there was still a knife in there.

"Uhhhh..." John seemed to have a loose grasp of what emotions were playing across Davesprite's face. The incredulous blankness (all Striders had varying degrees of blank, the cagey fuckers) had him backtracking hastily. Damage control was in order. "No, it's more complicated than that, hur dur. You're the only Davesprite right now. But before you woke up, there was another one. Really ornery and definitely not as cool," he said airily.

[turntechapalooza]

This Blows

[turntechapalooza]

(...)

Dave probably should have said something when he heard the sloshing of nearby footsteps, but he was fresh out of fucks to give and his reaction time therefore suffered. But once it became clear his best bro was having difficulty spotting him he forced himself to move.

He lifted his arm, snapping his wrist in what he hoped looked like a short noncommittal wave. “Yo, Egbert. Over here blind bat.”

He smirked to himself, silently appreciating his own wicked irony. Who said sardonic humor was dead? Nobody, that’s who. Good thing too, because it was pretty much the only thing keeping him calm enough not to start slip-stitch-sliding around and creating dead copies all over again. He didn’t sit up, though. Not yet.  Fuck that. Too much work too soon. He was perfectly content in his slush puddle, thank-you-very-much.

"Did you lose your glasses or something?" He dropped his arm, letting it fall across his chest. "Because while I am the master of ninja-esque stealth to the point every weeabo quakes in terror of my sheer skill, I’m not exactly trying right now man."

[disposedheir-blog]

John bounded forward, honed in on Dave like an irony seeking missile. He beamed, even as one of his shoes got sucked into the murky underworld. Dave getting intimate with the mucky ground was raising little red flags, but he slogged forward, brows raising dubiously despite his smile. 

"Yeah, well excuse me for thinking you'd get your lazy ass up during some point of this sentence?"

Dave still wasn't getting up. John swallowed up dread, clamping down on the implications before they could bloom into fully realized panic. He was the best steel trap, it was him. Very delicately, John squat down and placed a hand on Dave's shoulder. His sock was soaking up a whole ocean's worth of damp in the meantime. Blech. BleCH! The things he did.

"Catching up with you went a little differently in my head!" he admitted, squeezing Dave reassuringly, quietly unnerved by his stillness. "You were standing and weeping into my shoulder, in that scenario. But I guess that doesn't fit into that dumb coolkid persona you're aiming for, huh?" His other hand clasped Dave's wrist. The current plan was hoist Dave to his feet, then promptly get the fuck outta dodge. 

"All that skill must be heavy. I can give you a hand if you need it." The latter was less of a question and more of a courtesy, because John guided Dave's limp arm around his shoulder and peeled him from the grips of mud. The hand that wasn't gripping Dave's arm migrated from his shoulder to around his middle, which was liberally coated in more grime.

[willfakedavepleasestandup]

Rough Landing

[willfakedavepleasestandup]

(...)

"…could always try flying. I mean it’s a little cloudy up there and probably colder but I’d definitely get a better handle on the terrain and shit. Then again, I’ve never flown with real, legit wings before just that sprite-y bullshit maybe this is a lot different. Fuck, this better not be like a coming of age story where I learn how to fly so I can leave a nest I don’t even have. Cliche as fuck; I want my money back. Along with an answer as to whatever the fuck that was I just exposed my beautiful peepers to. Peep."

Davesprite was still rambling; if only to fill in the silence. Aside from the splish-splosh of his feet, the wind wistling through his ears and the rustling of his feathers it was just too quiet. He wished he had some tunes to listen to. Hell, he might even take Miley Cyrus in all her rough transition to pop culture glory. Being far too busy with his monologue and the surrounding ground, he had not bothered looking up. Perhaps if he had, Davesprite would have been prepared for the Egbertian missile headed his way. Instead, there was a flash of color and a gusty explosion several feet in front of him. He threw his hands up as his wings and hair were blown back- and was promptly splattered with mud.

"Yo dude what the fuck?!" Davesprite cawed indignantly on reflex, seeing as he had already been wet and was now dirty on top of it. At least only a few specks had gotten into his feathers. Which were distinctly ruffled from all that wind. Shaking himself a bit to fling off some of the grossness, he lowered his arms and folded his wings back in to their usual position. Directing a scowl at whomever the Hell- "John??" The disbelief was obvious in his voice as he blinked behind his shades at the other. Davesprite supposed that explained all the wind, but it was still a shock to see the other boy standing there. It made him wonder; who else was in this awful, melting, muddy place?

Though the comment that followed the greeting made his lips twist and his brow quirk. His hands had returned to gripping beneath his elbows in an effort to retain body heat as he stared John down curiously. “Sup Egbert. Nice entrance. Excellent flair. Stuck the landing too though I don’t think the judges are happy about how sloppy the follow-up was. You could say their judgment might be a little muddied after a display like that. Not sure if you’ll get perfect ten’s. Maybe somethin’ more like seven out of ten, do not wanna do again. Especially since we seem to be in the middle of nowhere with none of the modern necessities to be found.” Davesprite removed a hand to scratch at his head as he realized John was also completely nonplussed by his human appearance.

"It has been a long time though I mean damn. Not even counting how long it may or may not have been since the game, I hadn’t seen you in there for a while, either. Guess I’m relieved the first face I found was a familiar, friendly one. Even if it happens to belong to a pain in the ass prankster. Though seein’ as you aren’t experiencing the shock and awe I was just a few minutes ago, I’m gonna take a stab and guess you know more than I do about what’s going on here. Y’know, me having legs and a solid torso and all the other great shit being a human comes with plus the bonus of motherfucking wings. I guess I missed the memo or I’m a little slow on the uptake here because to be honest I don’t have a clue about what’s going on hahaha. So could you be a bro and fill a bird in?” Best be keeping the “another Dave” thoughts to yourself there, Johnny boy.

[disposedheir-blog]

"Shucks!" John replies, completely unaffected by the grammatical rules about run-on's dying a slow painful death around them. "Guess that means you volunteer to help me perfect my technique then."John's shoes were muddy, but it was par for the course. All that snow had to go somewhere. At least it had warmed some. This was John's preferred climate. Granted, it came saddled with a pang of homesickness, but he was pretty glad that he could walk outside comfortably sans jacket. The jacket now served as a makeshift backpack. It got a little gross, seeing as he used it to ferry dead rabbits from his snares back to Cave Crockerbert. There was one tucked under his arm, right now, bundled away with a crude knife made out of chipped stone.

It became glaringly obvious that this was not the same Davesprite he'd talked to earlier. While John was pretty far from throwing himself into the mud, bawling at behest of other Davesprite, an uneasy feeling settled in his gut. What kind of power were they dealing with, that could successfully pull different versions of themselves outta thin air. At least in ectobiology, there was a limit to this kind of bullfuckery. But here, there were new versions of his friends cropping up every few months.

John hadn't asked other Davesprite how many times he'd kicked the bucket. Which number John he was. He supposed it didn't matter, since he was him right now in this moment. But it was still unsettling to think about.

"Well as much as I would love to be your ethereal guide through this really unexpected twist of events, I don't think I could ever measure up," John said, stalling for time. How exactly to phrase this? "Everyone listed on your contacts list," John raised his wrist demonstratively, "is alive. Stranded on an empty planet under the watch of a guy or gal called the Overseer." He dropped his hand to his side, shrugging helplessly. "I'm not sure what the big endgame is, but when have I ever? We just try to survive down here until we can think of something better, I guess." 

Almost like an afterthought, John added, "It's weird, though. You're not even the first Dave sprite I've met."

[disposedheir-blog]

three cheers for three years

[excitementofspace-blog]

(...)

It took a bit of time, but Jade was on the prowl.  She had set up that infamous wrist computer with the received waypoint and smiled as she started out following the pointer through woods, through the snow, through the frozen tundra of the area.  In the woods it was a bit colder than outdoors, but she was ready.  Sure it was cold, but she toughed it out.  She wasn’t about to let her friend be all alone and miserable!  That wouldn’t be a good friend.  Those doggy ears were always perked as she moved through the area, rifle at her side, recently refilled with bullets so she would be safe along her journey.  She certainly knew all too well what was lurking in Planet 413, and knew some of treachery already, what with that second event.  But none of that mattered to her as much as getting to John!

A few steps here, stopping to listen, a few more steps, rifle stayed near her at all times!  She was certainly taught well, how to live in safety.  And how to garden, so she knew a few survival skills.  Finally emerging above the final hill, she could see a speck of blue!  at least, she thinks it’s blue, and not simply a trick of the light.  That gets her to speed up, possibly even start running a bit, but still careful to make sure she didn’t step in a frozen pond or anything.  Sniffing in the cold air, familiar scents started to come to her.  John was nearby!  And as she pushed on, that blue got closer, she grew more and more sure it was him.  It wasn’t long before she briefly thought about trying to prank him, just for old-times sake, just to see what would happen.  Thinking a bit more, she stifled a giggle with her hand coming up to her mouth, then shook her head gently, looking out to John.  As fun as it would be, pranking wasn’t the thing that was supposed to be happening.  At least not yet.  However!  On the way there, she did decide to reach down and grab a handful of snow, barely using her power to keep it off of her hand as she used both to form it into a small ball.  A soft ball that she knew would explode into soft snow on impact.  And once she was close enough, she threw it right at his form!

Sure, she didn’t want to prank him.  But that didn’t mean she couldn’t have some fun!  She certainly knew it would get his attention, and that was all she needed!  Whether he looked at her or not, she moved a bit closer and said “hehehe lesson one, always stay alert!”  The map thing and waypoints could come later.  First it was important to have fun!  At least in her book!  Once they got that important fun time out of the way, maybe then they could discuss the reason for her coming over at all!  All of this made her smile, her happy demeanor very visible, even though it was rather obvious she had already been through a lot.  A bit of wear and tear on her skin, though the ears seemed fine.  the fur, although a bit matted, still flowed in the air.  Her glasses were still carefully perched atop her nose.  Definitely still very much a nerd, after all.  She waited for his response, almost purposefully letting her guard down, even though she knew he would likely return fire!  After all, it was no fun if she wouldn’t let herself be hit, was it?

[disposedheir-blog]

DOOF!

Ok, so maybe it was more like: doof.

But the fact was that something had hit him, and John was rearing back from the snare he'd been setting up. It was just a few worn rags tied in a noose around a bush, an optimistic hope that some dumb rabbit or weasel or fox or something would magically lay down its life for a good meal. Jane was back at the cave, stacking firewood. They were working out a nice little system, the two Crockerberts. It was warm in the cave, and there was a snowmelt stream nearby that provided crisp, bone-chillingly refreshing water. With the exception of a steady inflow of food and some idea of why the fuck this was all happening, things were pretty okay.

Spinning on his heel, John stiffened, eyes wide behind his glasses. A willowy figure was standing with in range, circle lenses glinting in the harsh light reflecting off the snow. A plume of jet black hair flagged out behind her. And John was plunging forward through a snowbank. Little eddies of wind flutter, tugged by his emotional high, not enough to propel him forward at Jade friggin' Harley. As he got closer, he could pick out her bleach white dog ears from their snowy surroundings. Her bright green eyes.

He was approaching hugging range, huffs of gray wisps pouring from his mouth, cold biting at hose and ears. "Sorry, my nerd radar has been broken for a while now, and I don't have big dumb supersonic ears to compensate with!" he calls back, breathless and calculating the trajectory for a full out hug-tackle-explosion. Oh, he'd repay Jade alright, never fear. Harley didn't know the drowsing prankster master she'd awoken.

Before he initiated operation NFL Launch Hug Tackle, his gait slowed as he stooped for a handful of fluffy snow, alternatively known as sweet, sweet revenge. The, like a coiled spring, he leaped forward, thrusting Jade's retribution straight in her face.

[disposedheir-blog]

eeyyy ur names john right? friends with rosie posie? have u by chance seen her around

rox-… ing. rocking. what i mean to say is: it is rocking to meet you, and yes i am john. you must be rose’s mom, and alternative roxy. it’s nice to meet you. rose sure has talked about you a lot. all glowing reviews, of course. glowing being ambiguous to whether glowing as in “positive” or glowing as in “incandescent with barely contained fury.” uh, anyways. she isn’t here right now. i don’t know why. i was looking for her too when i first woke up.

[disposedheir-blog]

[MASS MEDIA MESSAGE 01]: Good afternoon, gentlemen. I am a HAL 9000 computer. I became operational at the H.A.L. plant in Urbana, Illinois on the 12th of January 1992. My instructor was Mr. Langley, and he taught me to sing a song. If you’d like to hear it I can sing it for you. It’s called Daisy.

oh hey. i didn’t know this thing came with a weird, space-alien siri. uhm, well aside from the timeless question of whether howie mandel has the chops to fill a bottle of “aj” with piss and get away with it… maybe you could skip the song and tell me your name? i’m not even sure if this does voicecalls, robopal, sorry! i am sure it would’ve been a very touching performance.

[willfakedavepleasestandup]

Rough Landing

"Huhwha-"

Not the most intelligent thing to come out of Davesprite’s mouth. Then again, the jumble of words and noises was understandable considering he had just awakened in a damn slush puddle. It was cold and wet and had him scrambling to his feet in a flurry of shocked chirps and orange feathers. He then proceeded to sway dangerously a moment as- holy Hell- he had legs again. Davesprite was far more accustomed to the weight on his back and used it to eventually stabilize himself. Though he wasted no time in gawking down at said new appendages, his skin, his human body.

"Holy shit."

He attempted to call up his most recent memories but found no explanation from their recesses. The last thing he remembered, he was still in the game floating around with the other sprites. Davesprite could not even note anything strange occurring that might signal shenanigans were afoot. One moment he was a sprite in SBURB; the next, he was waking up as some freaky human-bird hybrid in a puddle of slush. On a planet he had never seen before. At least, it looked similar to Earth and thus probably was not a SBURB-created planet for a player.

"Okay. Okay, okay, okay. All right. All right, Dave. You got this. You got this shit on lockdown. Locked down so tight even Fort Knox be jealous. Ringin’ you up askin’, ‘Holy shit Dave, how the fuck did you get your security so tight?’ And I just laugh and say it’s a damn trade secret assholes go back to cheating honest Americans out of their hard-earned monies. Yeah. Yeah, I’m chill. Totally chill. No reason to freak out. There’s gotta be some explanation behind this I just… need to… need to… fuck."

It was cold. Probably would not be so bad if he was dry. Every little breeze made him shiver and Davesprite drew his wings tightly around him in an effort to act as a buffer. Crossing arms over his chest to clutch at his biceps, he huddled forward a bit and looked around again. Alone. He was most definitely alone with zero idea where he was. He did not even have a sword for protection. Nothing but his clothes and- thankfully- some killer orange-tinted shades. Huffing out a soft breath that sounded dangerously close to a quiet trill, he picked a direction and started walking. Sticking out in the bleak landscape of white slush and brown mud like the sorest of thumbs with all that bright, neon orange going on.

"It’s fine, Dave. You’re fine. Just remember what Dory told Marlin when he started acting all tightass. Just keep swimming. Except I’m walking, not swimming. Fuck, walking is weird. And takes effort. Not sure if I like it… damn, who am I kidding? Having legs and all the other lower human bits is awesome. Even if I’m kind’ve freezing my newly reclaimed dick off. Fuck. Gotta be somewhere I can dry off and warm up around here. I’ll even take a tree hollow at this point. Return to my bird roots. Build a nest maybe. Caw caw homemaker, motherfuckers… pft….”

[disposedheir-blog]

So their watering hole was suddenly brimming with malevolent microorganisms and thirteen different kinds of deathly disease waiting to be ingested by a poor, unfortunate soul. John had naturally volunteered to scout around for a new source of good ole dihydrogen monoxide. He was getting better at the windy thing. Able to catapult himself skyward and hover for a few seconds, before cushioning the landing so he didn't break his legs into little, bitty bone splinters. It wasn't flying, and, as such, could never compare, but it was something. Something that kind of made him feel queasy with fatigue, after a few times, but. Water wasn't something you could just wave off. Necessity and all that. 

Brushing against the clouds (wishing he could climb higher), John twisted midair, squinting against the watery sunshine. He raised a hand to shield his eyes against the glare, because ow, there was a patch of ground over yonder that just might be refracting light back on him which might mean water!

Or it might mean orange, feathery asshole. Upon closer inspection, John deduced it was just that. Davesprite arises from who knows where to shake his tail feathers at him once more! The warm currents of air surrounding him unspooled away, and he dropped like a very dignified sack of potatoes. He kept his eyes trained on the ground, gauging... until...

A blast of air exploded beneath his feet, splattering a delicious mud and twig combo in all directions. John touched down, adjusting his glasses and straightening out his hair (which was a relative term, when it came to him, but still). He fixed the sprite with a toothy grin, a little smug. That was pretty awesome. Even though it was weaksauce compared to what kind of windpower  he used to heft around, it made him giddy. (Also tired as hell.)

"Hi Davesprite! Long time no see." A joke. It had been a couple weeks, but John wasn't about to nitpick. He was practically tripping over Dave's nowadays, so it wasn't a huge deal. And he still hadn't seen Karkat or Terezi at all. But... John's eyes swept down and up again, smile dimming a little. Last time he and Davesprite had met, Davesprite was in pretty terrible condition. Like, missing a wing, sword through the chest, terrible. Just what he needed. Another Dave.

[turntechapalooza]

This Blows

Navigating was coming a little harder than Dave anticipated.

Okay sure, blindness was a real hit to the Strider homing instinct. But Terezi always seemed to manage just fine—hell, better than fine—with this pair of eyes so he figured, fuck, so could he. Just give him time. Heh. Sure got plenty of that amiright. Oh yeah, still got it. Some top-teer joking goin’ down. Wish I still had that extra me corpse nearby because I’d totally high five myse—

That’s when he rammed nose-first into a birch.

He didn’t really bother getting up. The half-melted snow drift he had landed in was too damn comfortable. Also he probably wasn’t getting anything accomplished, anyway, aside from maybe making it even more difficult for John to find him.

Oh yeah, John.

In all the time he spent in both the complex and this ice block of a planet, he’d yet to cross paths with his best bro. Any version of him, in fact. He knew the first had died with Jade (old Jade, cellblock Jade, not razor blood blind death teal no no no not that one) in the ship crash and had kind of distanced himself ever since. But John sounded dead set in finding him.

Feeling the water of the melting snow seep against his back and shirt sleeves, multiple things flitted across his mind. First and foremost, he severely hoped this John would survive. Or at least survive past Dave’s death, as selfish as that particular notion was. But on the whole it was a given, but it was especially pertinent now that he was actually going to be talking face-to-face with him. 

It was so much harder losing friends when they’re more than just text on a screen.

 The second thing was possible ways to explain why the fuck he’s suddenly blind. Obviously he would spare the gritty details, for his own sake as much as his friends. However it was going to be a trip no matter what. Nothing said ‘welcome to the apocalypse’ than having your friend suddenly be blind as a motherfucking bat. But John adapted easy, that was kind of his thing, so Dave wasn’t super worried.

The third thought was futilely attempting to figure ways to fuck over the Overseer. After his moon mission he hadn’t been able to keep it out of his mind. Motherfucker was going to pay for butchering his friends like this, and Dave didn’t care how many times he slipped through stitches and left behind corpses along the way.

“You idiot! I… I-I thought you were dead! Inst-instead it was one of your copies…”

Everything certainly was a lot more bullshit than usual.

Dave groaned, throwing an arm over his face. 

Egbert, hurry the fuck up.

[disposedheir-blog]

Dave was here.

Which, okay, yeah, he'd noticed while scrolling through the long list of handles on his wrist computer, but it was something else to get pinged by the shitlord himself! John swung himself to his feet. He and Jane had been sitting pretty, tucked away in a cave to survive the winter. It was the kind of situation dashing Han Solo found himself in; overall a mess, with the Rebel Base successfully infiltrated by the Empire, but at least there's nice, still-warm Tauntaun guts to stave off the more immediate threat of hypothermia and the grim popsicle possibilities that followed.

In short, they had a reliable shelter and food. Jane was a shade less handy with outdoorsy stuff, since she was forbidden from camping excursions without a SWAT team and body armor, apparently. Which sucked, because John had only been a member of Troop 413 for a few months before the Great Reese's Cup Debacle and his Dad pulled him from Boy Scouts altogether. 

He was able to rustle up some grub, though! It was touch and go for a while, but he liked to think that he's gotten better at skinning rabbits or hares or whatever the fuck they were. Now they were dinner for him and Jane. Team Crockerbert survived off of fresh meat and dried bunny jerky. It was funny, in a morbid, horrible way. John privately thought Jane hid away how much distress it caused her. Both their respective Striders, Lalondes, and Harlish friends had gifted them a bunny at some point on their convoluted timelines. It was just too bad sentimentality didn't fill him up like roasted rabbit.

Speaking of Striders, though. John snatched up his jacket, stuffing his pockets with jerky and strips of cloth. Grizzled action heroes were always tearing their shirts to ribbons and using them as bandages. Dave wasn't super specific in his messages, but John had a sense that something was very wrong. Aside from that... all John had were his windy powers. The scraps of what had once made him a living god. Shaky control over gusts and a few inches off the cracked ground. Big whoop.

John sent Jane a message, saying was off to save Timmy from a well and he'd be back soon.

Then he walked off into the land of dripping wet and sloshy slush. Faithfully, he tracked his progress to Dave's waypoint, checking his watch every so often. The afternoon sun put him in the very uncomfortable position of having the heat beat down on his shoulders, but encasing his shins in chilly muck. Blech.

"Dave?" His heart dropped. According to his fancy tech bracelet, he was standing at the correct coordinates. But according to his admittedly not great vision, no one was here but some very bedraggled bushes and a trio of uprooted trees. Time was essential in these kinds of situations. John didn't want to be caught out here in the dark. Finding his footing was hard enough as it was, without capitalizing on his poor vision. 

He poked through the main menu of his computer. Dave better have a stellar reason for standing him up like this! The nerve of some people.

[disposedheir-blog]

====> Wake Up.

[turntechgodfeathers]

(...)

"Oh thanks, captain obvious. It’s not like I couldn’t tell I looked like complete shit, y’know just a sprite-human form of my previous full on orange self. Sword through the chest and all that jazz, wonder if my wing’ll grow back though." He muttered more to himself than to John, moving to pull the sword out a bit before placing it back to its previous position. "At least this thing isn’t melted to my skin anymore, so let’s all just be thankful I’m not looking as shitty as I could be."

It seemed John really just wanted to talk, and talk, and talk about what the fuck was wrong with him. Pointing it out wasn’t enough? He gussed it didn’t matter and just shrugged a bit, deciding to at least begin to look around before stretching out his wing so a few flight feathers were just inches away from touching John. 

"The closest source of warmth would be me, sorry dude you wanna get warm you gotta do the snugs." A light chuckle that really amounted to nothing. "Seriously it’s cold out and you look more like death than I do, in the cold department. Not that I’m saying to actually touch me or anything I just mean if you’re that cold I’m somewhere up in the hundreds when it comes to body temp, or some bullshit. Seriously why the fuck do I take after a bird more than a human? Like I mean now I got legs and obviously a dick as we’ve talked about in previous convos so wow okay don’t ask why I just brought that up. Point being we can’t start a fire and I have no clue where any caves or shit are because I just kinda sleep in trees or on the ground. Maybe I’ll build a nest…" Was he good at staying on point? Not at all, his mind sort of wandered from one topic to another.

What was it that John wanted to know? Oh yeah, why he looked like shit. That was hard to explain and he supposed he’d bring it up after they at least got somewhere that wasn’t piling snow on them, or windy, or as freezing cold as he assumed John was.

"Oh yea, I never thanked you for helping me with my wrist even if you sucked at setting it and wrapping it I think it’s actually healing pretty well now." Needless to say he had no idea the other John died, and that this was a new one.

[disposedheir-blog]

John's brows slowly began to rise, like a jumbo jet preparing to take off for the unknown whatthefuck-osphere. Dave had a really bad habit of convoluting the simplest of concepts, so made sense that his sprite shared his shitty exposition skills! Still, there was the suspicious beginnings of a headache throbbing somewhere in his skull. It'd be harder than usual to let Dave or Davesprite run their mouth unchecked, piling metaphor upon metaphor on his achy, breaky head.

"Uhm," he began, when Davesprite paused for half a second. Entertaining and hilarious as nest building may be, John had priorities. And that was a feasible shelter for the night. Someplace with heated floors and tons of blankets. Now that his nervous system was fully awake, it was starting to take note of how chilly it was. Nothing too bad, not yet. But someplace dry and warm would be welcome, preferably before his toes froze and dropped off. "As much as I would love to engage in the time honored tradition of snuggle bros..." John eyed Davesprite dubiously. They could pretty much nix the heartfelt reunion staged with Chariots of Fire in the background, then. Oh well. John would save that occasion for the actual Dave. The one who didn't have a sword plunged through his chest, hopefully. "Are you sure your delicate constitution can handle my cuddles with the whole...?" John pointed to his own chest demonstratively.

"Uhm," he began, yet again, completely flummoxed.  "When did I do this, exactly? Because there's this pretty big gap in memory from going to sleep last night in my bed in Washington and waking up today, in... Yosemite?" he tried, optimistic, but really not willing to let himself believe that this was something mundane as a prank. Also Davesprite was a human? Signs were pointing to otherworldly shenanigans.