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You feel your body hit the concrete. Finally, you’ve stopped falling, took long enough. A warm sensation overcomes you, the feeling of blood soaking through your shirt. This is fine, you’ll just head back up the stairs, maybe text your friends along the way, and bandage your wounds. Thirteen flights of stairs to get up to make it back to the apartment, you’ve had worse. Your Bro is probably already waiting for you, wondering why it's taken you so long to get back up. Maybe he wasn’t wondering about you at all. You won’t disappoint him by taking the elevator up, that's not what your training is for after all, taking the easy way out. If he knew you took the cowardly way, he would most likely make you strife with him again. Your cheap piece of shit katana was already damaged beyond repair, so you would have no chance at winning. You never won them even when it wasn’t snapped in half though, so it wouldn’t make a noticeable difference.
Checking your pockets, you notice that, yep, your phone is also shattered, again. Also fine, just means you have to wait til you make it to your computer before you can tell your friends you're not dead yet. Your shades are also no longer perched on your face, probably snapped in half ten floors up, and abandoned as you flew down. Disappointing, they were a birthday present for your last birthday, your twelfth. At least the first version of them were; those are long gone by now, shattered and replaced a hundred times over.
You gather the remains of your shit and try to soak up the blood gushing from the cuts on your arms and ribs. Don’t want anyone asking questions as you make your walk of shame, not that people tend to care anyway. Even if they did, they wouldn’t get it, they never will. It’s not your fault you and your Bro have such a unique lifestyle. It’s not going to be your fault when in ten years time they're going to be dead from a scrape to the knee, and you’ll be a strong badass, just like your Bro. God, how you wish to be like him. He took you under his wing when you were small, making sure you were well-prepared for anything that came your way, not his fault you're such a total screw-up. You would hate you if you were him too.
The trek back up the stairs begins. Floor 17 to 30 while slowly bleeding out.
==>==>==>==>==>==>
God, you were hungry. Bro hadn’t arrived home yet, or at least you didn’t think he had. You couldn’t be entirely sure, he can be scarily quiet sometimes. May as well check the fridge in the meantime to check if anything non-metallic had shown up while you weren't looking. You leave your room and head to the kitchen to meet the fridge in all its glory. On it, held in place with a small magnet was a handwritten note, directed at you.
Dave. Roof. Now.
Fantastic, he was home long enough to leave you a strife note, telling you to come to the roof to train. You gently open the fridge and swiftly grab a short sword before the rest of the weapons collapse at your feet. Placing it in one of your cards, you make a quick stop to your room and grab your trusty katana. No way to know how long the note has been sitting there, and Bro wasn’t the most patient person. Roof it is. One quick thing first.
-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] --
TG: dude
TG: something important came up
TG: i gotta go for a bit
EB: again?
TG: again
EB: annoying.
TG: i know right
-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] --
Gotta keep your friends updated.
==>==>==>==>==>==>
You can finally see the apartment, right next to the stairs to the roof. Bro isn’t waiting for you out here, which is always a good sign. It means he trusts you are strong enough to make it back up, he doesn’t need to watch for you like you’re a child. You go to open the door, but find the handle won't move. Great. He locked you out. Just another one of his tests. Underneath your neighbor’s doormat was a sole bobby pin, looks like you’re breaking into your own house, again. You had done this before, apply tension to the lock, shimmy the pin in and feel for the clicks. He changed the locks every so often so you could never memorize the sequence, a new test every time. Click, click, click, mistake, try again. Click, click, damn it. Click, click, click, click, success. The door opens with a light orange-red glow. You enter the apartment slowly and carefully, watching for where your bro is at, lest you be ambushed. You spot him, he's on his futon next to the TV. The TV is dark, but you can vaguely make out that he’s busy playing games. Though, he spots you in the reflection and gives you a small nod of acknowledgement, and you the same, before you race to the washroom to clean yourself up.
You run the faucet and throw water over your face, washing some of the dried blood off you. It stings the cuts on your arms and snaps at your calloused hands. You look in the mirror, your face looks wrong without your iconic reflective shades, it's not what a Strider should look like. Bro’s shades never broke, you can’t remember the last time you saw him without them. You instinctively reach for the cabinet under the sink, where the medical supplies are stashed. There were supplies of all types; bandages, lotion, creams, gauze. Most of it was untouched, just proof that you were strong, and didn’t need it. Today was a little different though, the gashes on your arms were worse than they usually are, Bro clearly didn’t hold back. Here you are standing though, so that's an accomplishment. You grab some bandage and messily wrap up your arms and hands. You’ll make sure to clean them well and put them right back where you got them, don’t want Bro to think you’re weak now, do you?
When you are sufficiently washed up, you head to your room, which you thankfully haven't been locked out of. The blue shine of your computer’s screen coats the room. Cries of friends wondering where you've been are plastered on its glass. On your bed, a shiny new katana, a box of cheap fries, another new flip phone—pre-installed with all your data—and the reflection of yourself in the mirror shades staring at you. You knew it would all be waiting for you, the same care package always is after a strife. How your Bro can afford to keep buying you a new phone, but not stock the fridge with more than swords, is a question you ask yourself often. You do admit the irony is good, funny even, but still. You toss the shades on and bring the fries to your desk.
-- ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] --
EB: dave!
EB: where are you!?
EB: you said you’d be gone for a bit.
EB: not hours!
EB: don’t tell me you're off strifing again!
TG: guess what john
TG: youd be damn right
TG: the amount of right youd be would be insane
TG: off the charts
TG: youre so off the charts youre in the negative charts
EB: aaghhhhh!
EB: that sucks!
EB: i had to strife with my dad today too.
EB: i would say similar levels of insanity.
EB: i've been thinking...
TG: you have??
TG: nuts
EB: you know what i mean.
EB: i kinda want to make a memo.
EB: like between the four of us.
TG: what for
EB: to chat.
EB: and stuff?
EB: i don’t know.
EB: seems fun though
TG: i mean sure dude
TG: do what you want
EB: i think i will.
TG: sweet
TG: ill just be chilling here til then
TG: i guess
-- ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] --
It appears Rose had noticed you were online, she began pestering you while you were busy with John. You switch to speaking with her while John makes the suppositively sweet group chat. Rose can be a bit of a pain but she's always looking out for you at least. Always keeps up with the comics you post online daily, most of your friends do but she enjoys them the most. She enjoys investigating them to get to your conscience. It scares you a bit.
-- tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] --
TT: Hello, Strider.
TT: It appears you returned at last.
TG: sure as hell have
TG: i was busy training with bro
TG: training to be the coolest of us
TG: not that i need to train very hard
TG: i already own the title
TT: Apologies accepted.
TG: johns making a group chat
TG: was this your idea
TT: The terminology is “memo”.
TT: And no, it was not.
TG: i dont care what its called
TT: I don’t believe that.
TT: You try to hide behind your irony and sarcasm.
TT: I see right through you Strider.
TG: again with the psychoanalyzing stuff
TG: why do you feel the need to do this
TT: Your psyche is a complex web of intrigue I feel the need to dissect.
TT: For Joy.
TG: fantastic
TG: love that you do this stuff
TT: Memo’s up.
-- tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] --
You can’t help but at least give the impression of a smile. As much of a snarky ass you can be, you do enjoy their company. They’re about all you have here in the apartment.
-- ectoBiologist [EB] opened memo with tentacleTherapist [TT], turntechGodhead [TG], and gardenGnostics [GG] --
EB: hi everyone!
EB: i don’t think we’ve all spoken together as a group?
TT: I don’t think so, no.
GG: no we havn’t :D
GG: im very excited!!
EB: me too jade!
TG: sup yall
GG: hi dave! :)
TT: How is everyone's day going?
EB: decent!
EB: i just wish my dad would stop making so many cakes.
EB: he insists on strifing with me to give them to me.
EB: its so over the top, he can just hand them to me!
EB: hes so dramatic sometimes,
EB: and i’m like,
EB: STOP WITH THE CAKES!
EB: you know?
GG: same!
GG: no grandpa i am perfectly safe going out!
GG: stop trying to give me your gun!
GG: i am protected!!!!
GG: his strifes are the worst!
GG: so much bickering
TT: Nothing new with myself and my mother.
TT: I am content with our current relations.
TT: If content meant slightly peeved but tolerable.
Watching your friends talk about their guardians makes you feel grateful for your Bro. They have all these problems with them but your Bro? You can barely think of a flaw.
TT: Strider?
EB: yeah dave, what’s new with you?
TG: oh nothing much
TG: strifed with my bro
TG: almost won
TG: it was sick as hell
You were nowhere close to winning. The gashes on your arms soaking through the bandages made that very apparent. They didn’t really know what your Bro was like though, and you sure as hell weren’t going to tell them. What if they got freaked out and left you? Then what would you spend hours doing on the computer? There’s only so many semi-ironic comics you can make in a day before you run out of material.
TG: bro got me a new phone
TG: that was sweet
GG: lucky!
GG: ive always wanted a phone
GG: grandpa won’t get me one though :(
TT: You seem to get a new one every week Dave.
TG: yeah
TG: hes just cool like that
As you go to say something else you hear the sound of footsteps approaching your door at a rushed pace. A surge of adrenaline hits your skull and you send a quick message to cover your ass before running to the door.
TG: one sec
TG: brb
Your door opens before you can make it over there. The warm orange glow seeps in. There stands your brother, looming over you. He asks if you want the rest of his fries and that he’s heading to bed. Bed? Already? It’s not even- a quick look behind you to the window reveals that it is in fact dark out. How long have you been on the computer? You accept the fries and say a quick “night” before your door is properly closed again. You head back to your desk, the blue light of your desktop being the only thing lighting up to your room now, the burning eye of the sun long set. Its warmth only to cloak you again in the morning, for now, the chill will have to do.
TG: im back
TT: Hello again Strider.
GG: hi!!
GG: johns gone to say goodnight to his dad
TT: It’s been so lonely here.
TT: Just the two of us.
GG: it was an excuse for us to chat though
GG: we dont do that enough
TT: We really don’t.
TT: We would not pass the Bechdel test.
GG: :(
TG: im glad you lovely ladies have been enjoying yourselves here
TG: what time even is it
TG: i look away from the computer for one second
TG: and boom
TG: suns exploded
TG: and im like
TG: damn you couldn’t even wait til i finish my sunbathing
TG: gotta get my tan on
TG: you feel?
GG: what would we ever do without you dave
TT: You really could’ve ended at the second message.
TG: answer the question
TG: one of you
GG: its nice and sunny here
GG: i think about 5?
GG: suns just starting to switch places with the moon
TT: I may or may not be awake at 1 in the morning.
TT: I got busy.
TT: Doing very important things I may add.
TT: I think for Egbert it’s 10pm.
TT: He’s just getting ready for bed.
TG: well that was unhelpful
GG: damn timezones D:
TG: wait i have a clock on the computer
TG: goddamn its 12am
GG: are you feeling sleepy
TG: nah im too cool for that
TG: 2cool4sleep
TT: What are the chances he falls asleep at his desk?
GG: very likely :p
TG: you underestimate me
TT: I think I estimate you the proper amount.
TG: nah
TG: do you think john is coming back
GG: i think he fell asleep already
TT: Seems like an Egbert thing to do
TG: of course doofus egbert would be the one to make the memo then be the first to clock out
TT: Jade, how is Bec doing?
GG: hes doing very well
GG: still incessant and very protective
GG: but hes a good dog!!
GG: best friend :3
TT: I’m glad.
TT: He seems like a good boy.
GG: he is!
GG: you know one time, one of my plushies got lost but then
GG: guess what
GG: bec came back the next day with it in his mouth!
GG: i love him so much!!!!
TT: I can see that.
TT: If we ever get to meet up you should introduce us.
TT: Right Strider?
TT: Dave?
The purple and green flashes by your eyes, not quite being processed in a meaningful manner. All you can feel is the growing warmth of the computer screen and the weight of your eyelids on your eyes. The stillness of the house was comforting, a kind of dead you could only find at night. No strifes, no confrontations, no worry about what, or who, may lay around the corner. Sitting, basking in the blue light, you feel at home, at peace.
Your eyes finally gently shut, the light fully enveloping you as messages still hurry across the screen. When your world is so red, you can forget how blue everything actually is.
TT: And he's idle.
TT: Told you he would fall asleep.
TT: Classic Dave.
GG: :p