My Birthday was on Thursday (10/11) and I wanted to do something fun and silly for it. So i decided I wanted to do something that we used to do with our World of Warcraft guild, called Corpse Darts. Pretty much what you do is go to the highest point you can, and jump off. Whoever’s body falls closest to the target wins!
So I made a platform with a bunch of bunk beds on a Quetzal, and then we flew to the very top of the map and tried to land on a Tek Teleported (the target). Allaea, Eric, Dave Bro (aka Reject) and I all did the jumping, and Dawn was our referee on the ground letting us know how we were doing. It was a lot of fun, but all of our health was high enough that we didnt die on impact, so we had to go chase down different dinos and such to finish the job so we could go again.
Check out the next post for the action shots while we were playing! It was a lot of fun!
The scene was immediately familiar, a vivid memory from years ago. He made his way up the stairs in his old apartment building, a note clutched in one hand and a sword in the other. He was on his way to fight Bro for the Sburb beta disks.
Bro.
He was dead, he had been dead for years now, and Dave felt apprehensive at the thought of seeing him again. His brother, his father, his teacher. The guy who used to kick the shit out of him on a weekly basis. The asshole that used to leave plush rump puppet booby traps all over the damn apartment. The raging douchebag who just fucking had to have a billion shitty swords taking up space in the fridge and in the closets and pretty much anywhere else he could think of to shove them. Dave opened the door to the roof and all he could think was one thing: He really fuckin' missed his brother.
The fight began immediately, and Dave was ready for him. He was faster now, and he could keep up with Bro's onslaught. He managed to block all of his initial attacks, and even managed to take a swing or two himself. He was still no match for his brother, but he was fighting back, still on his feet, and he hadn't taken a hit. That should count for something. Bro flashstepped behind Dave and he was only just barely able to block the blow from behind. He spun fast around, his sword meeting his brother's with a loud clang. To his surprise, he was smirking at him. "When did you get so fast, kid?" Without waiting for an answer, he flashstepped again and this time Dave was too distracted to block in time. He took the blunt side of the Katana hard to his right shoulder, almost knocking him over. He regained his balance quickly, ready for another attack, but it never came. He stood there for almost a minute before he finally lowered his sword.
"Bro?" He looked around and he saw Bro leaning against the AC unit, head down and arms crossed.
"You lost this fight."
"You remember?"
"Yeah, I remember."
"You kicked my ass."
"I always kick your ass, little man." He looked up at him, face completely blank. The perfect poker face. "Bigger little man." He paused. "Am I dead?"
"…Yeah." Dave answered, a little hesitant to say it.
Bro stood in silent contemplation of this for a moment, and then he looked at Dave. "Are you?"
"No."
"Good." Dave could not ignore the implication of affection behind the response.
"Things have been pretty fucked, Bro, but me and the others, we're still fighting. Gotta admit, it's weird you not being around." Bro raised one eyebrow, and Dave glared at him beneath his shades. "Don't give me shit for that, you've been dead a while, it's expected that I have some lingering affection for the man who raised me." Bro smirked at that.
"You look like you've done alright without me." He paused for a moment, and then continued, "You grew up good, kid. I didn't expect anything less." He walked up to Dave and held his hand out and Dave took it in his, palm to palm, and he pulled him into a hug (the quintessential bro-hug). Bro, hand still grasping Dave's firmly, looked him straight in the eyes through their shades. "I'm proud of you, Dave."
Dave did his best to keep a straight face, but hearing that broke something down inside him he had not known existed. With one final squeeze, he freed his hand and turned around. "I don't want to see you again, so don't get yourself killed, Kid. I'm serious, I will kick the shit out of you if I see you again." Be careful.
"Yeah sure." Dave responded. "You goin' somewhere?"
"Where is there to go?"
Dave picked his sword up and looked over to his brother. "Bro. Roof now."
He turned at that and smirked. "You're in the shit now, Kid. I'm not gunna go easy on you."
"Don't insult me, old man. Stop trash talking and strife." He gripped the sword in his hands, his body situated in a perfect fighting stance.
yeh tried to draw from the rp from earlier. started shading but all my motivation has seeped from every pore in my body so bleh. basically, dave was suffering a psychotic episode and bro was bein a huge sweetheart and calming him down. it was hella fun and i was real mad when my internet disconnected. man. oh well. live if life.
I LOST CONNECTION IM SO UPSET WOW ?????? ALRIGHT WOW WAY TO GO INTERNET IM GONNA FIST YOU WITH A CLEET
omg it was so much fun ima cry
YOU ARE NOW TALKING TO A RANDOM FUCKASS. SAY SOMETHING, ASSHOLE!
▼: There was a soft rapping on the door, gentle and careful. He had tried the door before, he had struggled furiously with it at times, this was his newest approach. Calm and collected, walking as if the floor was made of glass. One wrong step and he'd get more than a nasty cut, he could lose the little guy. He shut his eyes, adjusting his glasses absently with one half-gloved palm. "Yo, you still in there, little man?"
▲: "No." was the only response, and it was barely audible. Dave's voice sounded rough and raspy, as if he'd been using it constantly. But with who? Dave curled up tighter on his bed, knees brought up to his chest, arms wrapped around them. 'Don't let him in, he's after you'. The younger blonde shook his head, hugging himself tighter. He just wanted to be left alone, alone forever.
▼: "Right, what are you even blocking this door with?" He put his back to the door, leaning against it but cocking his head to the side enough to be able to hear the quiet responses. His arms laced across his chest, hanging loosely and ineffectively over his front. The flared collar of his bleach-white shirt brushed at his angled jaw as he pushed out a silent sigh, staring off to the side and awaiting some sort of response.
▲: Dave groaned a bit, knowing that this was Bro. If anyone could bust this door down with the brute strength of a thousand angry bulls, it was him. Feeling exhausted and worn, Dave stood up and wobbled over to the dresser, pushing it aside with quite a bit of difficulty. "Nothing, now," he snaps. He didn't mean to snap, his voice just came out that way. Before the older man could walk in, Dave climbed back onto his bed, hugging his knees again. It was his best source of defense right now, seeing as he could barely hold his sword anymore.
▼: Bro leaned down, swiping at the shitty microwavable meal plate he had sat down on the carpet, cautiously shouldering open the door after twisting at the knob. He looked inside, one sweep of his eyes taking in the room before settling on the younger boy tangled up on himself in the bed. A guilty grimace crossed his face before he wiped it off, stepping in and lifting the offering with one hand. "Brought you something to chow down on."
▲: Dave looked at the food and nearly felt he was going to vomit. Turning his head away, he hugged himself tighter. 'It's poisoned, poisoned, poisoned!' "I'm not hungry," he responded, dropping his gaze to the other picture he was working on. Another clock. Even he didn't know why he drew so many clocks. Something about time running out, time's up... Dave looked up at Bro again, a flat expression on his face. "What do you want, anyway?"
▼: "Yea' well, I already ate some shit so I'll leave it in here for when you are hungry." He had to be hungry, there wasn't a single way he wasn't starving to death in here. But you can lead a horse to water... or drag it to a hospital kicking and screaming, shove an IV in it, and force some kind of nutrition into it. He didn't want it going that far, but like hell he'd let him waste away before hand. He kept his gaze on the newest clock, quicking one brow above the shades but saying nothing to respond to his question. He set the food on a random surface nearby and wandered a single, non-threatening step in that general direction of the bedroom. His hands slipped into his pockets, half hanging out of them and letting tension fall out of his shoulders to seem as passive as possible. "Man I had no idea you had this kind of talent, I mean your comics were pretty goddamn hilarious but these are good."
▲: Dave kept his eyes steady on the taller man, said eyes narrowed behind his shades. What kind of game was Bro playing at, anyway? There had to be some sort of plot behind his actions. Dave knew that the second Bro left the room, said microwave meal would be garbage in a heartbeat. Then, Bro approaches. This sends an electric shock of panic through the boy, but he attempted to remain as nonchalant as possible. The better he behaved, hopefully the sooner Bro would leave. "It's not great. Kinda stupid. It's a clock, what's so great about clocks anyway? I don't know." It took Dave a moment to realize how jumbled his sentence must have sounded, but he didn't care. Just keep looking at Bro, make sure he doesn't try anything.
▼: "I don't know either. What /is/ so great about clocks?" He asked, keeping his gaze off the other and angling his body away, looking at the rest of the clocks. He figured less interest in Dave might unsettle the other boy a bit less, so he wandered towards one of the walls, giving him a bit more space. He wanted answers, but he could be patient about it. For now.
▲: "Time's runnin' out," Dave said quietly. The older man walking away did settle the boy just a bit, enough for him to unfurl himself from the fetal position he had been in. His hands played nervously with the sheets on his bed. "They told me so. Over the computer. They said so, so now it's my problem." He swallowed thickly, wincing as the sounds of angry screeching hit his ears. 'Giving yourself away! Stupid! Stupid!' "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," whimpered the boy hurriedly, almost sounding frightened.
▼: He expression tensed at that, fingers curling just a fraction where they rested against the dark fabric of his pants. He exhaled silently through his nose, saying nothing for a short beat. "Man, weird gig. Runnin' out for what, exactly?" He processed what Dave said slowly and carefully, one question at a time, heading over to study one of the clocks and keep any more pressure off the almost frantic kid in the bed. Worry spiked, anxiety burning hard between his ribs and threatening to spread, dislodge his composure. He swallowed roughly, orange eyes keeping themselves locked on the picture.
▲: "Don't know yet. Have to find out," Dave's voice had grown louder. He was trying desperately to talk over the screaming in his ears. Drowning, he was drowning in the noise, and he was panicking. "I don't know, not sure yet. Needa find answers. In the clocks. They tell me things. Numbers, the time, they do." Man, breathing was getting hard. Dave's chest heaved a few times, trying to get air. Was he literally drowning? No, he couldn't be, he was in his room. Had his room filled with water? No again, or else Bro would be drowning too. "Are you okay?" Dave asked suddenly, standing up off of his bed.
▼: He noted the raise in pitch, and heard him stand. He looked over towards him, tipping his head. "Yea', little man. I'm fine." He didn't ask another question about Dave's reply, but was unsettled all to hell. The fuck as that supposed to me? What he wouldn't give to know how to help his brother more... "Why, are you doin' alright?"
▲: "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." 'Liar! Liar! Liarliarliar!' Dave began to pace, rubbing his upper arms with his hands as if he were cold. He began to look at the pictures himself, though unsure as to why. It seemed to calm Bro down. Maybe it'd work for him? "You know, it's kinda cold. Have you ever wondered what it's like to drown?" The boy turned to face Bro, walking up to stand right in front of him. Red eyes were wide and full of fear and confusion, visible even behind his shades at how close he was. "I'm drowning right now, I think."
▼: He nodded once. "I can help warm you up, y'know. I've wondered what drownin' might be like, yeah but." He shrugged his shoulders carefully, looking down and feeling something sharp tear into his chest at the look in Dave's eyes. "I'm not drowning, and I'm one hell of a swimmer. I'll pull you out, eh? Keep your head above the water." He shifted, retrieving one hand from his pocket and lifting it in an invitation for a half hug.
▲: He didn't unwrap himself from his self-hug, but did rest his forehead against Bro's chest. "There's too many people in here. Can we go to another room?" God, he's fucking exhausted. All of the screaming and fighting he'd put up with in the past few days. In all honesty, Dave could care less if Bro decided to turn his back to him right then and there. He was tired of fighting. He just wanted to sleep. "Do you think drowning would be nice? Or painful?"
▼: He wrapped his arm around Dave's shoulder, pulling him a fraction closer to him and moving to guide him towards the door carefully. "Yea, I'll got some blanket slaying around too. Drowning's not fun, but you don't gotta worry about that right now, alright?" He wanted more than anything to carry this kid into the kitchen over his shoulder like when they were younger, plop him on the counter and wipe his forehead to cool his temperature, pour him apple juice to help his throat - but this wasn't physical, and you couldn't wrap up something wrong in someone's head like if sparring went awry and they earned a few nicks and scars.
▲: Dave followed tiredly, not completely aware of where Bro was taking him. Taunts rang through his head. "My head hurts," he managed to choke out, his shoulders beginning to shake. No, damnit, no, he wasn't going to cry. Not in front of Bro. He couldn't. 'Stupid crybaby! Go ahead and cry! Watch him leave! He's gonna leave!' The younger blonde scoots closer to Bro, nearly completely leaning against him. Dave hadn't been this vulnerable looking since he broke his finger back in the second grade, and even then he tried to maintain a tough composure. It was harder now, though, for some reason.
▼: His breathing shivered unsteadily for a moment, head shaking a small fraction absently. "Here, I'll get us something to drink - fresh apple juice ready to go. Shit is good, nectar of the gods, right?" He tried out a half grin, trying to lighten the mood, let Dave see him more comfortable. He was all about being the support the younger blonde needed. He moved them both to the kitchen, retrieving two glasses and pouring the golden liquid into both of them with one hand, never pulling away from his brother.
▲: Apple juice sounded pretty good. Dave held the glass in both shaking hands. "Thanks," he mumbled, staring at the drink in his cup. 'Poisoned poisoned!' Attempting to ignore the nerves that caused his stomach to lurch, he attempted to take a sip. And another. And another. It tasted odd on his dehydrated tongue, or maybe it was the poison? No, Bro wouldn't poison him. He wouldn't. The glass was a little more than half way empty when he set the glass down. "Sorry," Dave whispered, staring down at his feet.
▼: Bro sipped idly at his own glass, watching Dave and shaking his head when he set it down. He lifted his free hand to ruffle Dave's hair softly. "Nothin' to be sorry about. You can keep it around with you for later, whatever you want." No pressure, he thought to himself, no pressure and no demands. Be there and keep him out of trouble, but don't push him away from where he's willing to go. "How 'bout we kick it on the couch for a bit? I stashed some blankets over there I think anyway."
▲: Dave had visibly relaxed, and he gave a small nod. "Sure, sounds cool to me." 'He's gonna kill you kill you kill you!' That caused him to wince slightly, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. The attempts to ignore made the blonde seem rigid and expressionless though, even more so than usual. "Are we gonna watch TV or somethin'?" He attempted to ask, failing at keeping his voice calm as it trembled just a bit.
▼: "Yeah sure, I bet there are some awful movies on, 'less you wanna watch something else specifically." He kept a pace away, eyes off, and movements fluid. Nothing sharp or quick, just gracefully smooth and quiet. Unobtrusive was his goal, unimposing. He moved to the other room to search out the couch, humming idly as he did so, acting as if nothing was particularly out of the ordinary.
▲: Dave gave a sharp nod before following, trying not to seem too suspicious of his guardian. Once in the living room, the younger blonde sat on the couch and curled up into that fetal position again, knees brought up to his chest. He was in a room with more windows, now, and a television that could possibly have a camera installed. That set his teeth on edge. "Wh-what're we gonna watch, again? Oh, bad movies, right."
▼: "We don't have to." He mentioned gently, glancing to the blinds. "Would you like me to close those? It can be a little bit bright outside, I know." He smiled and tapped at his shades before gripping them and slipping them off. He folded them up and placed them off to the side. One less thing to distance the two of them at least.
▲: His own red eyes widen a bit at the removal of the shades. To anyone else, it wouldn't be that big a deal. Yeah man, taking off sunglasses, big whoop. That wasn't the case here. Bro removing his glasses was probably more rare than finding a dinosaur walking in your front lawn. Needless to say, Dave was a little shocked. Deciding to reciprocate, he too removed his shades, setting them on the same table that Bro's were propped up on. "Y-yeah. If that's cool with you, I mean."
▼: He hide a relieved smile behind his back, heading to tug at the blinds to block out some of the light, or anything else that Dave might find offensive about them. " 'Course it's fine with me." He spoke casually, but felt miles better. This was progress, he was doing /something/ right. Bro turned back and rubbed at his eye with one hand, unused to really ever having them off when it wasn't during a shower or being unconscious. "So, any requests on the watchin' front or should we just browse whatever the hell there is to offer?" He wasn't sure what would be good for Dave, and what might set him off, he just resolved to be very careful about it.
▲: "We can just browse," he said, trying to keep any hints of suspicion out of his voice. Because, to admit, he was suspicious. Why did he take his shades off? Deciding to try and trust him, though, Dave scoots a bit closer as the man sat down next to him. He hadn't watched TV in... Well, quite some time. It was one of the very first things he grew wary off, a couple months back. He decided he could trust Bro, though, at least for now.
▼: Bro settled down comfortably next to him, looking at the TV and snatching at the remote. He nodded quietly, kicking is feet up on the coffee table and resuming as non-threatening a stance as was possible. He flicked the TV on, keeping the volume low and flicking through a few channels lazily. "Gotcha. How y'feelin'?" He drawled quietly, keeping the question's tone light and unassuming.
▲: Dave remained curled in that position, staring half-lidded at the TV. He felt vulnerable without his shades. People always commented about how readable his eyes were, and that bothered him. Now, Bro could read him like a book. THat set him a bit on edge, but he tried to calm down. "I-I'm aight, I s'pose. Kinda tired. Can't sleep, though."
