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curls up and cries oh man that roleplay was really great and ahhh i feel like i did something wrong but??? thank you to whoever it was that rped this with me it was tons of fun on my end and im sorry if you didn't enjoy it that much or i made you uncomfortable or you just got bored thank you anyway. uvu

▲: Dave crouched in the corner, gripping his side tightly as blood leaked through his blackened fingers. Pain rippled through his side and he choked back a small whimper, furling his large black wings around himself. Suddenly, though, the bedroom door slammed open. Red eyes shot up in fear, staring at the man who stood at the doorway. There was a string of curses that hung in the air before the man ran out and came back in only moments later, holding a kit that presumably had first aid equipment in it. The blonde teen scooted further into the corner, pressing himself into the wall as much as he could. "Pl- please don't hurt me," he choked out, mentally cursing himself for sounding like a frightened five year old.

▼: Now that Dirk had the first aid kit and he wasn't mentally panicking over the fact there was some fucking thing in his bedroom, he could get a good look at the scene. The kid was young, probably upper teens. Blonde. Familiar looking, way too familiar but Dirk didn't want to linger on that too long. There was the matter of the large, black wings he sported. They moved, too real to be even the most well-made prop. Dirk had seen some really good fucking cosplay wings but no, the movements were too smooth and graceful. He was scared, it showed in his wide, red eyes. Dirk held out a hand. "Chill, kid. I ain't gonna hurt you, but that scratch looks hella nasty. I just don't want you bleeding out in my room, okay?" He took slow steps forward, trying to appear as nonthreatening as possible. Wounded animals were dangerous, no matter how docile they were. When he got close enough he knelt down and opened up the little kit he brought with him. Originally it had held bandages, gaze, and medical tape. Now it had that along with a shit ton of other thing. Gotta be prepared for anything when you hated the hospital. "C'mon, relax and move those pretty wings of yours so I can get a look here. I won't hurt you."

▲: Fear was thick in his mind, making his shoulders and wings tremble ever so slightly. The way the other blonde examined him caused him to shrink further into himself, despite the pain that shot up his side as he did so. Still, to be perfectly honest, Dave really didn't have it in him to fight. Sure, his claws could leave pretty damn nasty wounds, but where would that get him? Abso-fucking-lutely nowhere. So when the man approached, Dave tried his best to calm himself down but keep himself on gaurd, just to be on the safe side. "Bullet wound," he rasped, voice hoarse from pain and lack of water, "didn't land, but grazed m' side pretty bad. Hur's like a lil' bitch." Despite being locked in a lab for three years, his Texan accent hung thick to his voice. It caused him slight irritation, but he forced it to the back of his mind. He decided to comply, lifting one of his large wings up and away from his body, exposing the bloody wound that grazed his ribs-- Not deep enough to be fatal, but deep enough to hurt like a piece of shit and bleed quite a bit as well. Lifting his wing caused pain to shoot through Dave's side, but he promptly ignored it.

▼: Bullet wound? Damn, this kid had gotten into some heavy shit. Right here in Texas from the sound of it. He was a local, but Dirk was pretty sure he had never seen some kid walking around spouting a pair of wings. He disregarded that for a moment, leaning forward to look at the wound up close. Nothing serious but yeah, it probably hurt. Thankfully wouldn't need stitches. Dirk grabbed a few gaze pads, working on wiping some of the blood. He had invested in a tube of antibiotic cream with painkillers in it and was seriously happy about it. He used another gaze pad to smear that stuff all over the large gash, before pressing even more gaze on there and using copious amounts of medical tape to get it to stay. Then he moved back, scooting away to give the kid some breathing room. "That a bit better?"

▲: The smell of the antiseptics was enough to send Dave into a wave of panic, images of the lab flashing through his mind. Breathing became difficult for a moment, but he forced his mind to focus on the here and now, because he wasn't in that place anymore he was away and safe and fine and everything was a-okay. Swallowing thickly as the cream was rubbed against the wound on his side and bandaged thoroughly, his red eyes stayed fixed on the man, just in case he wanted to try something stupid. "Yeah," he mumbled, claw-tipped finger grazing over the bandage for a second, "Yeah, it is. Th.. Er, thank you." He tried to stand up, but pain caused him to stumble a bit and he had to lean heavily on the wall for support. "I should probably be goin'. Y'know, places to go, people to meet. The whole shabang."

▼: "Oh no you don't." Dirk stood, hands hovering in case the kid decided to tip over. "You've lost quite a bit of blood there, kiddo, and you're pretty hurt. I don't think someone with wings like that would blend in too well with the masses, y'know? Whoever shot you would have no problem finding you again." There was something horribly familiar about the boy he was currently harboring and even though it was pretty much impossible, something screamed inside Dirk's head that he couldn't let the boy just run off, potentially risking his life. "You can stay here. Rest up, heal and get your strength back. It's not like I'm gonna hurt ya, what would be the point after trying to patch you back up?"

▲: Dave desperately wanted to be stubborn, wanted to be the old, stubborn Strider kid he was. But that kid had broken about two years ago, leaving the seventeen year old to just give a small nod, still leaning heavily against the wall. "Alright but uh. Just... Don't call the cops or nothin', aight yo? I can't," he shuddered slightly, red gaze dropping to the ground, "I can't go back there. An' tha's just where I'll go." Biting his bottom lip, he took a shaky step forward, wincing as his talons left small tears in the carpeted flooring. Shit, that was gonna suck. "Hope you don't like carpeting. And uh, mind if I get your name? Safety reasons. Can't be too careful." It was highly unlikely this guy was one of the sick fucks who had 'tended' to him these past three years, but he still couldn't be too careful. Besides, the guy looked... Vaguely familiar. After being drugged, tested on, and completely drained for the past three years, his memories were admittedly pretty blurred.

▼: Worried and paranoid, that summed up the kid pretty well. Whatever he went through obviously wasn't too pleasant, and Dirk didn't blame he kid at all for being suspicious. "I won't call the cops," he promised. "Not everyone is a heartless fuck, if I didn't want you here I wouldn't turn you in, I would just tell you to get the fuck out." He was potentially getting himself into danger. These people had guns, if this kid was trying to escape from them, it was possible he had some sort of tracking device and those people wouldn't have any problem killing a witness. But Dirk had swords and he knew how to use 'em, better than those fucks probably knew how to use their guns. He stepped forward, wrapping an around around the teenager and helping him get to the bed without straining his injury. "I don't care about the fuckin' carpet. I've been meaning to replace it, you're doing half my work for me by rippin' it up. Name's Dirk, anything I should call you?" He helped the kid sit down on the edge of the bed. "Go ahead and lay down if you want. Get some rest or whatever."

▲: "Dave," he mumbled, running a clawed hand through his messy blonde hair. It was choppy, still recovering from when he had his head shaved completely about a year ago. Still, he was damn fucking thankful to have his hair back, no matter how messy and probably gross it was. The name Dirk rang a bell in the back of his mind, but he shrugged it off as coincidence as he was set on the bed. And holy shit it was the most comfortable thing in the damn world. After sleeping in a dog crate, Dave was pretty sure if he laid down on this bed he would never get up again in all of his life. So, he settled with sitting up, not really tired enough to rest anyway. "Thanks again man. I uh, you don't hafta do this. I mean, it's probably gonna be shit as hell dangerous, and I ain't wantin' to get some stranger mixed up in my business or nothin'."

▼: Dirk's blonde ran cold at the name. Okay, that was just too many damned coincidences. He was round his lil' bro's age, same blonde hair and red eyes. Same fucking name. Dirk slowly sat down next to Dave, trying to keep his expression carefully blank. He shouldn't get his hopes up, Dave didn't seem to remember him anyway. Maybe it wasn't his little brother. "Nah. Nah, it's okay. Don't worry 'bout me, I think I can handle whatever someone throws at me. Don't worry about me." He licked his dry lips, feeling shell-shocked by the whole situation. If this was Dave--/his/ Dave--what had the kid been through? "Hey, uh. Mind if I check out those wings, though?"

▲: Dave felt the bed sink next to him as the man sat down, his face looking almost suspiciously blank. He forced himself to swallow his suspicions, though, knowing that they'd do him no good. He was practically helpless in his current situation. "You sure man? These guys are pretty sick. Kidnap kids and turn 'em into freaks." A dry, harsh laugh escaped from his throat before he wrapped his arms around himself, a little self conscious now that he was put under the spotlight. Giving a small nod, he slowly unfurled the wing closest to Dirk, thankful that it wasn't the one on his wounded side. It was about seven to eight feet in length, with large, black, sleek feathers coating it. They were pretty damn powerful looking, too. "Sure man. Just uh, be careful 'round the base. Place is sensitive as hell."

▼: Kidnap kids and turn 'em into freaks. Dirk's jaw clenched. This was his little brother, this was his little brother who had been kidnapped three years ago, kidnapped and fucking experimented on. His sassy, snarky little shit of a brother had been turned into a skiddish, paranoid experiment. Dirk scooted himself back so he was behind the outstretched one, trying hard to keep all emotions from his face as he raised a hand and ran it along the top of the wing, fingers trailing over the smooth feathers. "Sensitive how?" he questioned, keeping to just the wing tips for the moment, trying to distract himself from his twisting stomach.

▲: Red eyes locked on the clenching of the man's jaw. Nervousness made him fidget slightly, wondering if it was something he said, something he had done, if he was going to be turned in- Dave gave a small shake of the head, trying to get those damn thoughts out because fuck, he needed to be able to trust this guy or he was going to be completely screwed over. The hand on his wing tickled slightly, and it took most of his focus to not recoil and snort and squirm at the feeling. "Dunno. Jus' sensitive. Depends I guess. They hurt pretty easily." His other wing was tucked tightly behind his back, the feathers bending back slightly as they came in contact with the bed. It was uncomfortable, but it was even more uncomfortable to hold it out and hurt his side more.

▼: "I'll be careful, then," Dirk promised. He was a curious person by nature, especially when it came to his brother. His childhood was spent dabbling with robotics and science. Maybe there was a way to reverse this? But he doubted Dave would want to go through the trouble, he had been through so much already. Dirk carefully felt along the bones, trying to remember old seagull anatomy studies he had done. He slowly got closer to the base, being careful not to press too hard, just trail his fingers over the surface of Dave's skin. They looked like they were attached to his shoulder blades, making them sturdy enough for him to fly without ripping out his spine. Probably hurt his wound more by flying. "When you're all healed an' shit, you don't have to leave." He didn't realize the words had left his mouth until they did. Oops.

▲: As the hand trailed closer to the base, a shiver went down his spine and he had to bite his lip to keep from squeaking or making any other sort of embarrassing noise. The base was sensitive in more than one way, as some of the more cruel scientists had figured out during his time there, but like hell he was going to spill that to a guy who looked twice his age. At the offer to stay, Dave looked at the other blonde, tilting his head slightly before dropping his gaze back to the ground. "I uh..." his voice was low and he rubbed his upper right arm with his left hand, "I'd love to stay n' shit. But I really should go. I mean, they're probably trackin' me, an' I needa find someone and say bye to 'im, and... I mean, I appreciate you helpin' me and all. But I think it would be best for everyone if I just, I dunno, flew to the top of Mount Everest and buried myself fifteen feet into the snow or some shit like that."

▼: No no no no no no no no no. Dirk's fingers paused, feeling mild panic creeping in. If this was his Dave, why didn't he recognize him? Maybe it wasn't his Dave, maybe it was a different Dave but it was close to his Dave and he couldn't lose the kid twice. He couldn't lose this kid. "Hey, I've been in some deep shit before. Nothin' new. Don't worry about me, I can take care of myself and you no problem. Let 'em try to come get you." He was trying hard to be calm. That was how he could convince Dave to stay, by being calm and offering logical reasoning. "I don't think flying to Mount Everest would be a good idea, if you're that worried about shit just stay here. I can check you for trackers and shit, remove any I find. No problem. I could help you find anyone you want, I have information networks. It's called the internet. Who ya lookin' for?"

▲: The man next to him seemed... Frantic. Desperate, maybe. Deciding that the guy had helped him, and was offering even /more/ help, Dave gave a small shrug. "Fine, if ya wanna risk yourself like that, be my guest. Don't pin the blame on the birdkid when batshit crazy scientists burst through your door and shoot ya in the skull though." To be fair, the teen had relaxed quite a bit, causing him to loosen his tongue and be a tad more snarky than he probably should've been. Still, there was something about this dude that sort of... Relaxed him? "And that'd be great, but I think I'd like to hold on that. Surgeries have become kind of a shitty topic for me." A bit of excitement fluttered in his stomach when he heard that the guy knew how to find people and he sat up a bit, red eyes gleaming hopefully. "Uh, I'm lookin' for my brother. You'd probably know him. Used to run a creepy puppet porno site. Went by Bro." Then, a sort of uncomfortable feeling settled in his gut, one he'd had many times in the past few years. "I dunno if he's still alive or not. But I mean, it'd be rad if you could help me out. Do you know how far from Houston we are, by the way?"

▼: Having Dave assent to staying relaxed Dirk a little and his fingers started gently running up and down the younger's back, less exploratory and more soothing. Whether it was soothing for him or Dave was yet to really be determined and probably didn't matter too much. It helped that Dave was starting to seem more like /Dave/ and less like a scared little kid. Then there was the moment when he was told who the kid was looking for. /Him/. That affirmed it, it was Dave. His Dave. His baby brother, his precious lil' bro. A sort of strangled sound left Dirk's throat and he reached up, ruffling Dave's hair and leaning against his back, tempted to hug him but not wanting to freak him out. After being in captivity, being stuck in a tight hug wouldn't be too pleasant, he was respectful.

▲: Dave bit his bottom lip in nervousness as the man was very, very quiet for a very long time. His red eyes looked up to see golden ones wide and seemingly in shock, and that sound that came from his throat made the teen even more nervous. Once the hand came up and ruffled his messy blonde hair, he couldn't help but scoot away a bit, eyes wide and thick eyebrows raised. "Uh, you uh. Never answered my question." He leaned forward slightly to get a better look of the man's face, head tilted a bit. "Are you okay dude? You seem kinda... I dunno. Out of it all of a sudden. I can leave ya alone if you want. I mean, I know the concept of a puppet porno site might be kind of odd, but no need to get choked up about it. I'll get you an autograph or somethin'."

▼: He was freaking Dave out, he could see that but it was little hard to form words. He had his baby brother back after three fucking years, what was he supposed to besides sit there in shock and awe? He shook his head, hands dropping into his lap so Dave wouldn't feel too threatened or weirded out by his actions. "Nah, I don't need a fuckin' autograph," he finally choked out when he found his voice. "Dave, don't you remember me? Dirk? Bro? Your bro, you little dickmunching shit." The insult was said fondly and he reached out a hand hesitantly, wanting nothing more than to pull Dave into a hug but once again not wanting to upset the kid too much. So instead of grabbing Dave like he instinctively wanted to do, he just rested his hand on Dave's back, between his wing, and gave it a small squeeze. "You do remember me, right kiddo?"

▲: Another few moments of odd silence hung between them. It was broken, though, when the man next to him seemed to have found his voice again, and his next words sent Dave's stomach plummeting. His red eyes widened to the size of fucking saucers and he pulled back again, this time in shock instead of fear or nervousness. "You're..." a disbelieving tone hung heavy in his voice as he blinked a few times, wings trembling, "Bro? How... But I... Bro?" Great, now it was /his/ turn to not be able to speak properly. Instead, his mouth opened and closed a few times before he stood up. Suddenly, for some unknown reason, there was this... Rage that poured into his veins. The base of his wings bristled and a snarl appeared on his face as he lunged at the man, a clawed hand hooking around his throat and pinning him to the bed, wings half-way outstretched and fluffed out slightly. "Listen here, you piece of shit," he growled, eyes gleaming dangerously, "If yer fuckin' lying to me right now, I swear to god I will rip out your intestines and hang them on the wall in front of your eyes. So you'd better not be pullin' my leg, fucker."

▼: Dave's name was on repeat through Dirk's head. It was a weird, numb feeling. He was happy, but not as happy as one would think. It didn't quite sink in that this was his brother, Dave back in his life, safe once again. He had been through a lot but that was okay, his big bro would take care of him now and make sure he was safe. He couldn't help the slow grin that spread across his face as Dave seemed to make the association, until... Dirk found himself pinned back, talons digging dangerously into his skin with a very angry bird boy hovering above him. He was shocked silent yet again, a hand wrapping around Dave's wrists though he didn't pull or try to get away. "I'm not lying," he stated clearly. "Dirk Strider, commonly known as Bro. Owner of plushrumps.org and making of everything puppet porn. Dave. C'mon kid, you know it's me." The ending was pretty much pleading, all of his bravado from the beginning completely disappearing.

▲: Dave was on him for a few heavy moments, fighting a mental war with himself. A part of him desperately wanted to believe the man, wanted to know he was back home and back to safety with his only living family member. But another part of him had learned to not trust anyone in these past few years, that even the most convincing people could turn up working for /them/. Hell, if anything, the drugs and torture he had endured could have led him into a shock-induced psychosis. Or maybe he was in a coma, this was all a dream. Whatever the case may be, he let off of this man-- his brother-- and settled on the bed next to him, running his hands through his hair disbelievingly. Tears were pricking at his eyes. "I- I'm sorry," Dave rasped, voice cracking ever so slightly.

▼: He wasn't sure if Dave believed him or not, but the kid got up off of him anyway. Dirk laid where he was, trying to calm his racing heart. All thoughts of not hugging his little brother were gone as soon as he heard the broken apology. He was sitting up and wrapping his arms firmly around Dave in a second, tugging the younger close while being mindful of the wings and his injury. Best not to hurt the fucking kid but he couldn't /not/ hug him, not hold him after seeing his anger and fear and now sorrow. "No, don't. Fuck. Dave, I'm sorry. I should have found you. I should have went after you and not stopped until you were back at home but I didn't know where to start lookin' and the fucking police did shit. I should have... I should have stilled tried. God damn I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry."

▲: The guilt and pain laced in his brother's voice was all it took for Dave to break down. He buried his face into Dirk's shoulder, sobs beginning to wrack his malnourished frame, his arms wrapping around the man and clawed hands clinging desperately to the fabric of his shirt. The claws punctured holes into said fabric, but the teen couldn't bring himself to care, too focused on trying to keep breathing as he sobbed against the man. "N- no," he choked out, trembling and sniffling and whimpering almost too heavily to talk, "'S not yer faul'. They're hidden real well, a- an' I'm pretty sure they've got the gov on their side." The thought of having been saved earlier on was a nice one, but it was too late for that now, too late to focus on could-haves and might-haves. He turned his head to bury into Bro's neck next, freckled face wet with tears. "I wish I- I coulda told you. O- or somethin'. Escaped sooner or found a way to message you. But I'm... I'm here now, y'know? So that's... Pretty r- rad as hell, right?"

▼: Dirk wasn't crying and he wasn't close to tears. He wasn't really a man for tears, besides someone needed to be strong for Dave and that was pretty much his fucking job description and the one thing he took seriously. He soothingly rubbed at the base of Dave's wings, humming out little shooshing sounds at the kid sobbed and spoke through his tears. "Yeah. Yeah, you're here now and you're save and I don't give three flying fucks if the whole US government comes after me, I'm going to make sure no one ever hurts you again, got it? You'll be okay. I promise, I'm going to protect you and shit like this won't happen again. I got ya, kiddo. You're okay."

▲: Dave cried for a few more minutes, but it eventually died down to just small sniffs and whimpers here and there. His grip on his brother slackened a bit, biting his bottom lip as his mind was full of tears but with the rubbing at his wings, made it sort of hard for him to concentrate on crying. He tried shifting his arm to stop the man from rubbing there, trying to do it casually as he pulled away slightly to rub at his face. "So uh," he said slowly, trying to mask the fact he had just been blubbering like a baby for about five minutes, "how... how've you been? I thought I heard cartoons runnin' on downstairs when I crash landed into your room like a fuckin' angel fallen from grace."

▼: Dave's shifting did very little to deter Dirk, who was more concentrated on relaxing Dave and trying to comfort him, which he felt like he was doing pretty good at since Dave had stopped crying and seemed to be calming down. Dirk let out a small, tense-sounding chuckle at the question. "I don't know, to be honest. I was doin' better than you were, that's for sure but without you around there was really no point for shit, y'know?" He glanced towards the bedroom door with a smirk. "Yeah. Yeah I was watching cartoons on a whim, nothing serious. I've been okay but I'm a whole hellva lot better now."

▲: This time, he tried with a little more gusto to move his hand at least to his lower back, just anywhere from where his wings connected to his back because /oh fucking god/ the last thing he wanted to do was pop a boner in front of his brother after crying his eyes out. Dave tried to choke out a laugh, but it sounded forced, sounded like he was trying to stop some other noise from coming out of his throat. "Nah man, I've been fine. Haha, hey, I learned how to fly. I'm pretty sure I'll beat yer ass in strifes now, huh?" A light smile tugged on his lips, trying to mask the semi-uncomfortable arousal also portrayed there.

▼: Unfortunately for Dave, the strain in his voice and his wiggling around just made a worried look cross Dirk's face and he shifted closer, rubbing more as if that simple gesture would fix everything. "Oh yeah, 'cause crashing through my window is an expert display of flight," he muttered, joking but still very clearly worried. "We'll see about the strife thing, gotta wait until that gash is all healed. You okay kiddo?" He just wanted Dave to be okay. He just wanted Dave to relax and smile and not look so fucking tense and worried and uncomfortable.

▲: Dave tried to pull his wings as tight into his back as possible because fuck it if he was going to get a hard on while wearing this flimsy as fuck hospital gown. That uncomfortable feeling was already forming in his lower abdomen, and when the man rubbed harder, more frantic, he had to cup a hand over his mouth to suppress the moan that managed to slip from his lips. His face grew almost as red as his eyes and he drew away a bit more, biting down on his finger. "Stop rubbing," he finally muttered, trying to be as demanding as possible. "An' shut up, my flying skills are great. You try flyin' while bleedin' out and havin' every move of yer wing cause your side to ligth on fuckin' fire."

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