Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dave: Enter

 

"-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] --

“TG: ok im in

EB: in where?

TG: the medium

EB: oh, already?”

Dave clutched his sword tighter. Ow.

“TG: what do you mean already shit took 4 goddamn hours”

Dave looked up from his phone and saw the cursor flying about in the sky. It was a small wonder why. He was immediately regretting letting Jade be his server player. Ow. She was pretty awesome in most regards, but property damage was not something he could exactly take lightly. He had the feeling toilets and microwaves might be hard to come by in the medi-. Ow.

OW!

“Caw! Caw!”

“Motherfucker!”

The seppucrow had begun swooping around Dave’s head, pecking at him each time it flew by.

“What!” he shouted. “What do you want?”

“Caw!”

“What, are you hungry? My microwave is more lost in space than goddamn Wil Robinson! Don’t go getting any ideas either, my fridge is only stocked with war weapo –Ow!”

Dave rubbed his head.

“You are the worst thing that has happened to me today.”

The seppucrow flew up to its nest and perched for a moment, its bloodlust apparently sated. Dave looked back to his phone to continue his conversation with John.

“EB: huh, i guess time flew by while i was doing other stuff.

EB: how did it go?

EB: with you and jade i guess?”

“Ok, maybe the second worst thing.” He mumbled. The seppucrow seemed completely uninterested in his internal strife. It examined the Buster Sword in its nest, leaving Dave to his devices.

“TG: i dont want to talk about it

TG: imagine the worst day of my life

TG: just stood up and clinked a glass like it was about to give a speech

TG: then took a shit in my dinner and passed out with its pants down”

 

Dave suddenly felt red. Wait. Red?

 

“Jade, stop trying to pick me up, it won’t work!”

“Caw! Caw Caw!”

“Oh god, now he’ll never shut up.”

The cursor immediately flew up to the seppucrow’s nest. It then began flashing red again. Dave felt his stomach drop, as he realized what was about to happen. He had just enough time to open his mouth before shitty swords started raining from the sky in a maelstrom of death and shoddy workmanship. He barely had time to jump back before at least five of them landed at the exact point he had been standing. He had plenty of time to then mutter under his breath. “Jade, you can’t pet the stupid thing!”

The seppucrow immediately took off and began circling erratically, startled by the rapid destruction of its newly constructed and overly pointy home.

“Caw Caw Caw Caw Caw Caw!”

“Shut up!”

“Caw Caw Caw Caw Caw Caw!”

“No. Just. God damn it.”

Dave stopped paying attention to it. He was just giving the brainless asshole what it wanted. He looked back to his screen.

“EB: ew dog! ewwww!”

It took Dave a second to remember what John was responding to.

“TG: yeah

EB: so nasty! gross dude!!! “

“Caw Caw Caw! Caw Caw!”

“TG: stfu

TG: what are you doing”

“Caw!”

Dave turned to face the bird, which was now floating just above the broken AC, and was cawing at the cursor. The cursor had returned to the air and was remaining perfectly still. Jade was probably busy.

“Please. Just once. Shut the hell up!”

The seppucrow turned and promptly swept down to Dave. God. Damn. It.

“Caw Caw Caw!”

“Shut up!”

“Caw!”

“Shut!”

“Caw!”

“The.”

“Caw.”

“Fuck!”

“Caw!”

“Up!”

“…”

The bird was silent. For a moment, Dave relaxed. He sighed in release. In that fleeting moment, the seppucrow swept forward and nipped his nose.

“OW!”

“CAW CAW!” It screeched as it flew away triumphantly. Luckily it headed down to his and Bro’s apartment, where it would likely cause only marginally less destruction than Jade, but at least it would stfu for a few minutes. “I really need to figure out what that stupid thing wants…”

Dave returned again to his phone, where he could find more sensible conversation.

“EB: i'm in a rocket pack and i am about to blast off into space.”

“…”

“TG: ok

EB: it should be sweet.”

This day was going to be great. Dave suddenly realized that John had an annoying sprite following him too. The gears connected in Dave’s mind, and he realized that the seppucrow just wanted its other half.

“TG: i need some advice

TG: my kernelsprite which was this brainless feathery asshole with a sword in it

TG: turned into this bigger like ghostly feathery asshole

TG: with a sword in it

TG: it seems to want me to prototype it again

TG: not sure what to do

EB: hmm...

EB: have you asked rose?”

Dave momentarily considered heading downstairs to check if Rose had woken up, but then reconsidered. Rose wasn’t responding anyway. He wanted to figure out what to do with the seppucrow before he had to listen to its squawking for a second longer. He began pacing, but stopped when his foot hit something plush. He looked down at the remains of Lil Cal. He wished he still had some apple juice to pour out for his homie. He died the way he lived. By the hand of a flash-stepping ass-kicking bro-ninja…

He heard a clatter from the stairwell that sounded exactly like dozens of shitty swords scraping along concrete. Yeah, no, he was staying up here.

“TG: shes asleep for some reason

EB: wow, really?

TG: yeah i saw her there

TG: all tuckered out

TG: like she got smacked in the face with a pillow case full of the snooze wizards beard dander

TG: cause obviously its fuckin prime time for swiping some shuteye about now

TG: like a few hours into her magic stupid quest

TG: anyway what do you think “

He kept an eye on the open door. The seppucrow rose from the stairwell quietly enough, though that was likely only because it had a beak full of shitty swords it was eager to turn into another nest. It began to arrange them, but then noticed that Dave was eyeing it. It tried to caw at him, but choked on the metal. Dave tried to think of a witty comment, but at this point he didn’t want to risk the interaction.

“EB: i don't really know, i mean...

EB: it's supposed to be like your ghostly spirit guide or something.

EB: unless you have the remains of a wise old dead grandparent lying around, i'm not sure what to tell you!”

Dave looked up from the screen of his phone and into the eye of the now grounded bird brain. It was being quiet. He... was unsure of precisely how to handle this development. It cocked its head at him, and then looked at his feet. He slowly looked down. Two dead and terrifying eyes met his. That… that grin…

 

Fuck.

No.

“TG: ok fine but

TG: it seems to be suggesting something here

TG: and”

 

The sound of ghostly laughter came from somewhere. Thank god he’d already pissed away that applejuice. He looked down at Lil’ Cal again and watched as the puppet’s mouth slowly swung open.

Their eyes met.

 

“TG: i guess im kinda weirded out by its suggestion

EB: i don't know, just do what it says!

EB: it knows stuff about the game, so it probably knows better than i do...

EB: i gotta go!

EB: gonna blast off to the seventh gate.

EB: and, uh, win this game i guess. “

“…What?”

“TG: ok well it definitely sounds like youre fucking something up over there

TG: but alright later

EB: later.”

Dave turned to face the floating moron. It had begun picking at its feathers. Dave grinned as he reached for Lil’ Cal’s remains.

At least puppets couldn’t talk.

…Right?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
12/04/1995

A man stands alone at the edge of a deserted parking lot.

He has not moved for four hours. It is very late in the day, and so the sun beats down on the scene with more than a hint of sunset. As the city takes on a red tinge, the man begins to stir. He shifts his feet from left to right, as if nervously and mentally preparing for something important. Aside from this, his stoic frame betrays none of his thoughts or concerns. His shades shield his eyes from view, and his face seems devoid of any distinguishing features at all. If one didn’t know any better, they might mistake the man for a mannequin.

His hair is hidden under a dark hat, but it flares out at the edges of the cap in several spikes. It shines a white blond, barely distinguished from the unhealthy pale sheen of his skin. He wears a tight white T-shirt, revealing that despite the lackluster and sickly peal of his skin, he appears to be in the peak of physical health. His hands are dressed in black leather biking gloves. In his left hand, he gingerly holds a tiny pair of triangular shades. Completing his ensemble are a pair of black suit pants (freshly ironed), and a pair of black skating shoes. These shoes look well worn. It appears that the restless shifting is a frequent mannerism of the statue.

His face turns up, as he looks into the setting sun. He does not move, even as a dreadful scream fills the air. The wind picks up, and the man’s hat flies from his head. In a flash, he extends his right arm and grasps it. As night finally begins, a different glow fills the sky with the same red-shade of sunset.

The wind rises to a howl now, and a meteor takes shape overhead. The man does not move. The meteor grows larger. And larger. And larger.

And still, the man does not move.

The man appears terrified. He freezes to his spot. And then, the meteor hits.

Pavement explodes up from the impact site, and a dust cloud rises as a loud boom shakes the city. The glasses of nearby building windows shatter. A car alarm sounds in the distance. And as the smoke clears, the man already has gotten back to his feet, his hat already resting upon his head again. Indeed, it appears as though he was completely unaffected by the explosion, his black dress pants devoid of any dust or gravel. One might suggest that he never fell down at all.

He immediately enters the impact crater, charging forward with the resolute conviction of a mission, but stops short of the deepest point. He pauses.
There, in the apex of the inverted dome, sits a child.

A baby.

 

…Astride a dead pony.

The man stares at the baby for a moment. Then he acknowledges the animal. He appears surprised at its presence, and he kneels. He places his right hand on the muzzle of the animal, and pets. The child watches him. He watches the child.

Moments pass.

Then tentatively, gingerly, he extends his left hand. The child stares at him with a strangely confrontational yet passive look, as if to say, “Yeah? And?” The man stops for a moment, and then quickly lays the shades over the bridge of the child’s nose. The child does not move.

The man pauses again. That same fear evident in the moments before impact reappears in him again. In an instant he is on his feet, looking down at the child.

The child looks up at him. It does not make a sound.

The man kneels again, and scoops up the child in his left arm. The weight of it is unusual to him, and he clearly is nervous of it. Behind his dark shades and controlled features, his body tenses and tries to accept this new and unusual burden.

He looks the child in his eyes. Then, he gently lifts the shades from his own features, and the child looks into his eyes for the first and only time.

 

“…dave…”

 

Almost as an afterthought, the fifteen year old boy kneels and scoops the pony under his right arm and sets off toward home.

His baby brother is here.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Future Dave: Appear

“Ok, it’s never done that before…”

Dave knew how to take some pain. Ow. Growing up with his asshole of a brother had driven tolerance into his bones. But this was different. This-Ow- hurt. Time travel never hurt before. But then, he had this pain coming. He should have expected it for screwing up and creating a doomed timeline. The black abyss groped at him, its yawning grasp sliding off his skin like Vaseline drenched tentacles, trying to hold him to the doom. It left a black oil-like residue along his pure white tux that stuck to his clothes and slowly began to take on the consistency of tar.

 

Basically, it was fucking nasty.

 

Then, color returned to the world. And everything was red. That was to be expected in the LOHAC. He turned in midair to catch himself and managed to land on his hands and feet. Then, he closed his eyes and rose up. He took a breath. And then another. He was out. The pain was gone.

Ow.

“Ow! Fuck! What?”

Future Dave spun to face his attacker. All he caught was an orange blur racing behind a familiar broken AC. Good. At least he was in the right place. He’d forgotten that the kernelsprite used to do that, instead of just cackling endlessly.

“Yeah, he does that.”

Future Dave kept turning. He saw himself standing over next to the remains of Lil’ Cal. Other Dave didn’t seem terribly surprised. He gave a short wave. Future Dave gave him an upward nod. The unspoken lingo of the cool kid was based around such body language. Both Dave’s knew upward nods were for bros.

“Sup. I’m future you.”

Other Dave nodded back. “Oh. Sweet.”

Future Dave took in his past self. “You’re talking to John, right?”

“Ye-“

“Oh, no shit. I remember this. Tell him to stop whatever he's doing and listen up.”

Other Dave gave himself a thumbs up. “Sure… you got it.”

--------------------------------

“TG: WAIT

EB: what?

TG: dont go yet

TG: somethings up“

---------------------------------

Future Dave walked over to Lil’ Cal, and nudged him further away from the seppucrow with his foot. It looked saddened by this development. Well, tough shit birdbrain. Never. Again. “I’m gonna save you a pain in the plush rump and say don’t let the kernelsprite anywhere near that toothy motherfucker.”

Other Dave took in the new arrival. He looked like he wanted to say something but wouldn't. Future Dave broke the silence.

“Yeah, I know the suit’s pretty awesome, except for the black crap. Believe me, you don't want to touch that shit. But first things first. Tell John exactly what I say…”

“Ok.”

“Tell him don’t go or he’s gonna die.”

Other Dave began typing away at his phone. While he was texting, Future Dave looked around. Now where did the kernel sprite go?

The Dave behind him sighed. “He’s not buying your persuasive argument. For some reason. He thinks we’re trying to prank his gullible ass.”

“Why would we even bother with that shit though?”

“Right!”

Now Future Dave sighed. John. Why were you so stupid sometimes?
“Well, apparently he’s gullible enough to trust a leetspeaking troll and strap on a rocket just because she asked him to. But apparently can’t be bothered to believe his best friend who didn’t just strap him to a deathtrap. Seriously. I mean god damn.”

Future Dave was getting tired of this shit. He opened his sylladex and took out his phone. He wasn’t going to stand here playing fucking telephone with himself till John derped his way into oblivion.

“-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] --

TG: john stop being a tool and unbuckle yourself from that piece of shit

TG: if our friendship means anything youll listen to me and past dave

TG: this is future dave by the way

EB: hahaha!

EB: wow, you're really pulling out all the stops for this stunt!

EB: using your phone and computer at the same time to message me.

EB: you're kind of going through a lot of trouble actually, i don't know why you're bothering with this.

TG: yeah exactly why would i bother

TG: this sort of cornball horseshit is your cup of tea not mine

TG: dont make me track you down through time and stop you in person

EB: you can't track down through time WHAT YOU CAN'T CATCH!

EB: pchoooooo!

TG: oh god did you just blast off

EB: no...

EB: but that would have been sweet if i did just then.

TG: ok well just dont ok

TG: im turning this timeline over to past dave

TG: and helping you all stay alive and do this thing the right way this time

TG: just stay on the goddamn ground for fucks sake

EB: ok, i guess...”

Well, at least he wasn’t about to kill himself anymore. Future Dave had almost forgotten how dense John could be. That didn’t change the fact that he was smiling. He’d missed his friend. John was one of a kind.

He wasn’t about to lose him again.

Never. Again.

“Oh watch it, the goddamn bird is coming back.”

Future Dave looked up from his phone to see the seppucrow circling around for another attack.

“No worries. I got this.”

Future Dave tapped the eject button on the back of his fetch modus. All of his items flew out onto the roof of the building. He pivoted off his right foot and leapt up into the seppucrow. It was surprised by the maneuver and tried to change its trajectory in midair. Future Dave smirked. And that’s what you get, he thought as he collided with it in midair.

Suddenly, the world turned a blinding white. So bright that not even his shades blocked it. It burned his eyes worse than they had ever been burned before.

And he had thought that time jump had hurt. He was glad though.

This had to happen. And this time, no matter what it goddamn took, he was going to save them all.

Chapter Text

Davesprite: Exist

“Hey.”

“Sup.”

Davesprite stretched out his wings to get a feel for his new body. It was… strange. He felt really light. It was totally different from his dreamself. His dreamself could fly too, but he had always had some weight to him. That pull was almost gone. It was like he was almost suspended in space. It was weird. But kinda cool. Yeah, he could definitely work with this. A hole in his chest? Whatever man. “Once I get a better sword I could keep, I dunno, a cheeto in there.” He muttered under his breath.

 But wait, what was he doing? John was still at risk for getting his sorry ass killed until he could chase away the troll.

 “I am not in the mood for playing nice right now. Gloves are off.”

Davesprite booted up his glasses.

“-- turntechGodhead [TG] began trolling gallowsCalibrator [GC] --

TG: dont talk to john anymore hes an impressionable doofus
TG: your plan didnt work
TG: i mean it did
TG: but then suddenly it didnt
TG: so you might as well quit trying
GC: YOU SM3LL L1K3 OR4NG3 CR34MS1CL3S “

Yeah? Well… wait. What the fuck? Dave looked down and holyshitheWASorange.

….He could dig it. How could he have forgotten about that? Whatever. There were more important arguments to have with people that weren’t himself.

“TG: what
TG: youre aliens do you even have orange creamsicles
GC: OF COURS3 WH4T K1ND OF 4WFUL C1V1L1Z4T1ON WOULDNT 1NV3NT OR4NG3 CR34MS1CL3S
GC: NOT ON3 1D W4NT 4NYTH1NG TO DO W1TH
TG: ok pretty far fetched but whatever
TG: no more hijinks from you cause ill make sure they wont work
GC: W3LL OBV1OUSLY 1 KN3W 1T W4SNT GO1NG TO WORK
GC: MY FR13NDS H4V3 B33N T4LK1NG TO JOHN FROM TH3 FUTUR3
GC: YOUR FUTUR3
GC: WH3R3 H3S NOT D34D
GC: SO TH3R3 W4S NO W4Y WH4T 1 D1D W4S GO1NG TO K1LL H1M
GC: 1 JUST W4NT3D TO M3SS W1TH H1M 4ND STUFF
TG: i dont think youre following
TG: you DID kill him sort of
TG: then i went back in time to stop him “

Yeah, but a bit too late for him. And… Rose. No-

 Fucking-

Just. Shut up. Don’t think about that right now.

“GC: Y34H 1 G3USS3D TH3R3 W4S 4 CH4NC3 SOM3TH1NG L1K3 TH4T M1GHT H4PP3N
TG: alright but
TG: did you guess that by trolling john to his grave
TG: and making me splinter us off into an alt timeline
TG: that you were basically complicit in making our timeline go the way it was supposed to go all along
TG: where future me is now helping dave and we just keep playing
TG: and our actions ultimately lead to the trouble youre all in now
TG: thus leading you all to troll us incompetently
GC: OH
GC: NO >:[
GC: 1 D1DNT TH1NK OF TH4T
TG: well at least you got john to off himself so i guess youre not totally incompetent like the others
TG: like that awful rapper
GC: SO JOHN 4CTU4LLY D1D WH4T 1 S41D?
TG: yeah
TG: im telling you
TG: huge pushover
TG: he will do what you say
TG: unless it happens to be for his own good
TG: then all a sudden hes a tough nut to crack go figure “

Did he sound annoyed?

 

Oh, well that was just because he was fucking annoyed.

Davesprite finished the unnecessarily long and previously read conversation (found here) and closed Pesterchum. Okay, he thought he had this on the right track again. He was really scatterbrained though. Bird-brain must have some kind of mental… influence. Oh no.

No.
Hell. No.

It was okay. He just needed to make sure to check on everything he did to make sure he kept focused in the future. Fight his bird instinct to eat breadcrumbs and carry tiny cylinders and spaz.

Caw- No! Brain, if you pull that shit I’ll find a fucking astral squirt-bottle and dampen you into oblivion I swear to god, he thought. None of that shit.

Luckily, Dave spoke up and drew Davesprite's focus from his own mind.

“Who were you talking to?”

“Just telling a troll to step off.”   

In more than the obvious way. If she wanted her sadistic kicks it better be with someone who knew how to hold their own. John was good at many things. However, troll-flirtation (or whatever the fuck this was) would always wind up with him dead. Just like programming. Sad, but true. He knew this shit because he was fucking Dave Strider.

And no one messed with his homies.

Dave: Regard Less Annoying Ghost-Guardian-Thing

"Ok, cool."

Dave knew he was cool. A big part of the difference between thinking you were cool and actually being cool was being able to acknowledge your mistakes. He had had some serious doubts about this game. They were wrong. He was wrong. He was his own kernelsprite. That… was fucking amazing. The bird wasn’t annoying him anymore, and he had literally the best guardian he could ask for. He was ready to kick ass and take names.

“Hey, so now that you’re a sprite do you know everything about the game?”

Davesprite didn’t exactly seem as excited as Dave was. He looked kind of exhausted actually. Huh.

“ Well, I knew a lot anyway… because I’m from the future. But yeah, I know more stuff now. Like things specifically meant for sprites to clue players in on. But packaged in these… I guess riddles? I’m supposed to be cagey about it. But… I don’t really feel like it. Ask me anything and I’ll give you a straight answer.”

Davesprite turned to look at Dave.

“Ok. Here goes. Why are we so fucking awesome?”

“…That is the best fucking question anybody ever asked.”

Davesprite was smirking now, and the change in his mood affected his color as well. Confident that he had gotten himself out of his slump, Dave asked the question that was the elephant on the roof of his apartment building.

“Yeah. So, is everything cool with this John business? Is he gonna be ok?”

Davesprite’s glowing-shit stopped with this question and he turned to look out over the lava ocean like some kind of angsty archetype. “That’s up to him…”

He sighed. “If he decides to wise up and listen to us… if not then we’ll just bail everyone out.”

Dave barely made out Davesprite’s last words. “…yet again.”

“Ok…” This attitude wasn’t like him. He was him, so he was overly qualified to make this diagnosis.

Wait, what? Goddamn it. This was too confusing.

Also, diagnosis? That was lame. Well, except when Rose said it. But he needed to spit that shit out of his vocabulary.

Davesprite shivered, and his… fucking- pixie dust light or whatever- brightened again as he turned to face Dave.

“Okay, well all that gear should let you breeze through the first couple of gates, even at a low level. Later you’ll unlock the ability to bring your sprite down with you and we’ll take care of shit together. Til then, I guess, just mess around and let Jade build up or whatever. I’ll go kill some time.” Davesprite flashed especially brightly. “Maybe draw some comics.”

“Like what?” Dave didn’t like the idea of handing creative control over to anyone, let alone himself.

He repeated for emphasis, this two Dave bullshit was too confusing.

“I don’t know, what’s the last one you did?”
“I was in the middle of the nancho party arc.”

Davesprite’s light dimmed again. He was moody. At least this time he didn’t turn off to look at the lava-ocean like a goddamn cliché. “Oh yeah, I gave up on that halfway through.”

“That was sort of the point. Making a ten part story about nacho’s was always a terrible idea.”

“Let’s do some brainstorming later. Blow everyone’s minds.”

 

 

 

What happened next cannot be described in actual words.

 

 

 

Well, except fist bump.

 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Dave throws his bag down as he enters the apartment. Bro is standing by the door, waiting for him. Dave nods to him as he walks by. He immediately makes a bee-line for his room.

“Holy shit!”

Standing in front of the door is Lil’ Cal. The shimmering outline of Bro stands behind him, and Dave turns to face the clearer outline of his brother. “What, am I not allowed in my room anymore?”

Bro points to his left.

The bag is on the ground.

Dave looks back at him. “Seriously?” Dave gestures to the living room. Across the floor are hundreds of old issues of GameBro, cans of Mountain Dew, and broken marionettes. The TV is a tangle of AV cables and the pause music for at least three different video games are humming from the stereo system simultaneously. The only distinguishable music coming from it is the staccato bass of Battletoads.

Ba-dum Ba-dum Ba-dum dss dss Ba-dum Ba-dum Ba-dum dss dss.

Bro seems uneasy for a moment, but then reaffirms his stance and points toward the bag again. Lil’Cal crosses his arms and begins tapping his foot.

Dave slings the bag over his shoulder.  He turns back to where Bro was and bows to his highness. When he stands up, Bro is gone. Gee, there was a surprise. The jerk only showed up whenever he did something wrong. Lil Cal is perched on the top of the fridge, looking down on him.

“What, Mom?”

He charges past the lifeless stare and slams the door to his room as loudly as he can. He traverses the mess of his room to reach his computer monitor and turns it off. Without bothering to turn the lights on, he draws the curtain covering his closet mirror to the side, and examines his reflection. He makes to take off his glasses. He pricks his finger on the edge.

Ow.

He blinks at his reflection. His right eye is swelling up, and looks like it might be bloodshot. It was always hard to tell with his eyes, but it looks slightly more red than usual. He sniffles, but pulls himself together. He doesn’t know where Bro is.

And when he didn’t know where Bro was, that meant he was everywhere.

And he wouldn’t be caught dead crying in front of his brother. Striders did not cry.

Then again, Striders also were supposed to win their fights. Or at least his brother did. Dave puts on his glasses and closes the curtain. He heads to his computer, but something catches his eye. Mr. T is sitting on his turntable, staring at him.

“I wonder how you got in here…” Dave rolls his eyes. 

Dave slides into his chair, shuffles his mouse a bit to wake up his computer, and opens up his art folder. Thousands of terrible mouse-drawn pieces greet him. Terrible. All terrible.

Dave smirks. As he progresses to the more recent pieces, the art does not improve. He opens up paint, and begins a new project.

A chime rings out from his computer, and a Pesterchum window pops up. He answers it.

“—gardenGnostic [GG] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG]---

GG: hey dave!!

TG: hey whats up

GG: oh, you know me! I’ve just been napping aaaaall day :/

TG: haha sounds like you

GG: yeah, it’s a pain because ive been trying to get these seeds planted that john gave me last week

GG: i tried to do it while I was asleep but I was worried id break something!!

GG: :P

TG: thats cool

TG: because i know john and everything

TG: that guy

TG: hes such a person

GG: you should pester him sometime!

GG: I know you’d like him! :)

TG: im gonna be working on something

TG: but please keep going

TG: about people i dont know or care about

GG: are you okay?

TG: yeah im peachy

TG: im like a bunch of peaches just fell ass backwards off the back of a peach truck

TG: and into a barrel of more peaches

TG: that’s precisley how peachy i am

TG: why

GG: i just had the feeling like you might need cheering up.

TG: nope

TG: im totally fine

TG: i just had this idea

TG: want to get it down

GG: oh!

GG: OH!!

TG: what

GG: nothing! :)

TG: okay

TG: whatever

TG: the genius needs to work

GG: :D

--gardenGnostic [GG] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG]—“

 

God she was weird sometimes. When she wasn’t being awesome. But whatever. He had work to do.

As he started the strip, Dave’s free hand drifted to his swelling eye. Jeff and his “bro’s” thought they were so cool. They thought they had the jump on Dave Strider, just because he was alone. He only had his lame internet friends and his creepy freaking Boo Radley brother. He couldn’t do anything to them in the real world. They were so much better than him.  He was just a loser with stupid anime shades. They were the cool kids.

And they were right.

 

They were going to bee sooooooo rihgt.

 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Dave: Pester John

Well, somehow Davesprite’s tone of complete confidence wasn’t convincing Dave that John wasn’t about to dramatically explode like that asshole from any of his many, many shitty movies. As Davesprite vanished over the side of the roof, clearly intent on just letting John kill himself, Dave stared at his phone. He needed to do something about it.
Or else there might be three Dave’s running around, and that would be just too fucking confusing.

“-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] --

TG: did you blast off like a spazzy douche yet or what
EB: yeah, of course!
EB: there was no way i wasn't trying out this sweet ride.
TG: god dammit what do i have to do to make you believe me
TG: fist bump my future self til i got bloody knuckles and write you an even sappier bday note in my own blood
TG: on a back to the future poster”

Then it’d be hung from his wall, and he’d see it every day as a reminder to not make stupid decisions. Decisions like riding a goddamn rocket or ever watching any movie ever.

“EB: relax, i'm not going through the gate!
EB: i am just flying around, and having a good time in the sky.
TG: oh ok”

Well, now he felt like a tool. Shit.

“TG: so you believe me then
TG: about future me
TG: and like
TG: him turning into a floating sword bird
EB: um...
EB: ok, i don't know anything about that...
EB: but it doesn't matter!
EB: you're my best bro, and if you say not to go then i won't go.”

Yup. Bit of a tool. No, fuck it. He was right, John was wrong. He needed to hammer in just how stupid John had been being. He used his toolness for only the most altruistic purposes.

His phone beeped again.

“EB: hey, can you hold on?
EB: i'm getting trolled again.”

Goddamnit Egbert.

“TG: oh man and if weve just concluded anything its that talking to those dbags should be priority number one so yeah go right ahead
EB: ok, brb.
-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] --”

Against his initial instinct Dave decided to trust John to not do anything rash without consulting him first. John supposedly trusted that he had inside info on the future. Plus, the trolls had already killed John once. He doubted John was gonna be blindly dropping into any trollian traps anytime soon.

Now that he didn’t have to be paranoid about his friend’s imminent death by rocket or sneaky-bird kamikaze attacks from above, Dave took in his world for a moment. It seemed pretty weird. The lava ocean extended out as far as he could see. He could see giant cogs ticking away by themselves. Kind of… chill.

And hot.

“Cool.”

He heard a familiar sound from above and looked up into the sky. Bro was rocketing over what was left of their apartment building on his skateboard. He flew off to the south. Dave watched him go, but didn’t bother waving. He and his brother never spoke. Their relations had gotten much more neutral after he’d realized that Bro’s eternal silence was meant as a proposed ceasefire.

Dave rubbed his shirt where the record design had been cut in half. Lucky for him.

 

 

Oh shit! He’d almost forgotten about the sweet loot!

Dave gathered up Davesprite’s old sylladex and fetch modus. While he was at it, he captchaloged the remains of his old katana. The bit he had been using was only half of the blade, the rest of it was scattered in pieces around the AC. His only semi-good sword had just been prototyped by Jade in a profane avian resurrection ritual, and it was better than nothing. He gave Jade’s curser a glance. It hadn’t moved. She was probably just asleep. At least she wasn’t badgering him anymore. He allocted the broken cheap piece of shit to his Strife specibi.

 

Dave analyzed his new inventory.

 

The shattered pieces of his old katana landed in the lava with a sizzle. Fuck that piece of shit, sentimental boo hoo. Holy. Shit. Thisthingwasawesome. He allocated Caledswitch to his Strife Specibus instead.

Dave heard the rocket-board whoosh by to his immediate right. He turned just in time to catch Bro scooping up the remains of Lil’ Cal (without stepping off or breaking his stride). Bro continued off to the north, holding the puppets head up to his own face in what Dave could only assume to be an ironically triumphant taunt. They should get a room if they’re gonna be macin’ on each other all the damn time. Seriously, Mom. Jesus, it was like a goddamn Greek tragedy in this apartment sometimes.

Custody laws should have something to say about this display. Dave imagined that softcore puppetcest was at the very least frowned upon.

 

Then again, nothing about their apartment exactly screamed child-safe.

 

Or soft-core.

 

 

Dave shivered, and braced himself for reentry into the Land of Puppets and Dong. As he made his way down the stairs (cautiously), his phone beeped again. Dave checked it. It looked like he was pestering John, but he hadn’t opened up a window. Also, the color of his chumhandle was different. Weird. And also kind of annoying. Then he realized that Davesprite had probably started talking to John at his computer. Dave needed to remember to make another pester-profile for him so that he didn’t get notified every time a crow cawed or some shit.

Nonetheless, he did want to hear what the troll had said to John. It was probably just bitching about failing at murder so hard. Dave shrugged. That’s just how Striders roll.

No, stride.

Shit, he fucked that up.

“–turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] –

-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] –

TG: yo
EB: oh, hey.
EB: i think i pissed off your future self.
TG: what did you do
EB: i said he wasn’t the real dave. “

Phaha. His little pixie light probably went out. Better start clapping for Tinkerbell.

“TG: ahahahahaha
EB: i think i might have really hurt his feelings though!
TG: pff
TG: don’t worry about it
EB: why not?
TG: cause i wouldnt give a shit
TG: and hes me
EB: ok.
EB: i’m in rose’s room by the way.
TG: what
TG: really
EB: yeah, but she’s asleep!
TG: ok
TG: don’t go anywhere
TG: im coming down to the computer
EB: ok.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Davesprite: Check on Rose

Davesprite REALLY wanted to get to a computer.

He didn’t even bother with the stairs. He knew what their game was. Plus he could fucking fly, so he just circled around the side of the building and entered through the broken window.

“Ow!”

His wings slammed into the sides of the window, and he tumbled into his room less than gracefully. He sure was managing to get hurt a lot.

Davesprite collected himself and got to his… feet. Sprite anatomy was too confusing for him to deal with; nothing was getting a new name. He examined himself for damage, and saw that a tiny shard of glass had lodged itself in his left wing. He pulled it out quickly, and examined the cut. It wasn’t bad at all. He was leaking, but he’d be fine.

He looked back at the window confused. That shouldn’t have happened. Sprites were supposed to be incorporeal. He knew this shit. He was a sprite. Sprites knew most of the shit about the game, and they especially knew about sprite shit. They knew they could go through walls without turning into the goddamn Kool-Aid Man.

Davesprite re-examined himself. He looked at his wing again.

The tiniest shimmer of glowing orange leaked out of the cut. He caught it on his finger. It was just a drop.

Huh.

Well… Shit.

Well, he’d best try not to get hurt. Apparently the game didn’t want to give him all the super sprite powers. That was fair. Strider too strong, please nerf.

Though, he had basically sacrificed his sweet time powers for a few lessons in SBURB programming, but that just meant he had to be smart about how he went about the game. Anyway, he’d gotten his friends back, and that was worth anything.

He heard a rocket from the roof. There was Bro. Right on time.

There was another thing, he knew what was going to happen at least some of the time. He could easily use that to his advantage. He just had to be aware, which was an easy thing to do when your Bro had raised you to be a ninja. Some of the others complained about their guardians, but he didn’t want to hear any of it. Seriously, all Rose did was complain about her-

 

Oh shit! He’d almost forgotten about Rose!

Davesprite flew to his old monitor, grateful that flight at least made it easier to not trip on his cords. He opened the SBURB window and saw that she was asleep.

He suddenly realized that his heart wasn’t beating. Again, being a sprite was weird.

But back to the point, if Rose was asleep that seemed to bode well for his Rose. Maybe she’d made the jump to the new timeline after all. He wasn’t completely off the hook, but he breathed a sigh of relief.

Then her window exploded.

 

 

John came flying through her room spiraling out of control in his rocket pack. He made approximately three circuits of the room before landing on his ass in the corner.

 

That was the funniest shit Davesprite had ever seen. He needed to tell John. Luckily, Dave had Pesterchum signed in anyway. He opened a window and started to type to him, when he realized how confusing it would be if he sent him a message without distinguishing himself somehow. His wing ached and he turned to look at it. It was still leaking about the same amount. It… was the same color that his shades had changed his text to. That… was… huh.

Well, destiny had apparently decided his new color for him. He changed the color to orange and typed a message to John.

“-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] --

TG: wow ok
TG: youre a little early
TG: but thats fine i guess
TG: also you suck at rockets
EB: ARGH!
TG: what
EB: she tricked me again.
TG: who
EB: GC.
EB: she told me how to get to the 2nd gate.
EB: so i went through, but it took me to rose's house instead.
EB: another prank!
TG: dude you did go through the second gate
TG: i mean i dont know why you would listen to her again
TG: kind of moronic but thats a whole other issue
TG: she didnt trick you this time “

Seriously though, goddammit Egbert. Learn something.

“EB: oh...
EB: then, i don't really get this. “

Davesprite sighed. He sometimes forgot, not everyone is from the future and has intricate sprite knowledge of the game. Time to school everyone, dog. As he explained the game mechanics of the round-robin house exchange, he wrote that phrase down on a post it and put it up on the monitor for future use. With some mispellings, it seemed like a bad enough line. Fuck, it’d been ages since he’d had to write a strip. While he was at it, he wrote down the punch code he’d memorized for Hephestus’ hammer. He didn’t want to forget to give that to John.

“EB: ok...
EB: how do you know all this?
TG: fuck
TG: come on dude
EB: oh yeah...
EB: you're the orange dave.
EB: hey no offense, but do you think i could talk to the real dave for a second? “

 

…The.

...Fuck.

 

“TG: god dammit
TG: i am the real dave
TG: you know the one who saved your life
TG: im more real actually cause ive been through some heavy shit already hopping around on red hot gears and i-beams for like a year
TG: and grinding shit out for your ungrateful ass
TG: here look check out this code from the future not that you deserve it WIin189Q
TG: youre fucking welcome
EB: wow, calm down!
EB: i'm sorry, that's not really what i meant...
EB: i mean, of course you're a real dave, but what i mean is...
EB: the dave from my time is also my friend, and i guess he's in the same boat i'm in, not knowing stuff and all.
EB: and i'd feel bad keeping him out of the loop!”

Yeah, whatever. It’s not like that’s my goddamn job or anything. Keeping all of you in the damn loop.

Dave entered the room and looked over at Davesprite. Davesprite kept his back to him.

“Dude, stop pestering John would you? I need to put on my server-player shoes for a bit.”

Davesprite nodded. “Sure, I get how it is. Rose is asleep. She’ll, uh, be hard to wake up. It’s this whole thing. Remind me to tell you about the gates- actually, it’s on the pesterlog so just look it up there. I’m headed to the roof for a bit. Stretch my wings…” He stammered.

“Cool. I’ll let you know if I need anything.”

Davesprite cautiously leapt out the window, making sure to mind his wing this time, and flew up to the seppucrow’s nest. He sat down and opened up Pesterchum on his glasses to continue his conversation with John.

“TG: dave is here he wants to use the computer
TG: probably to help you scope out roses room and snoop and stuff
TG: i mean thats what i would have done
TG: if you were alive
TG: so im gonna go
TG: use these flappy ghost wings and tear shit up in space or something
EB: sure!
EB: hey dave...
TG: what
EB: in case i forgot to say so before...
EB: thanks for saving my life!
TG: yeah

-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] –“

“Whatever. Ass.”

 

The display automatically closed Pesterchum, and suddenly Davesprite was left staring out at the LOHACian landscape. He recognized each and every one of the grinding gears and cogs he could see. He sighed. He hated this place. It was too quiet. It was boring. And... lonely.

Not that he cared about that.

 

Ow! He’d accidentally jabbed himself with a sword.

That hurt.