victory_road | 8 ∅ [Text/Action for Ecruteak Inn]

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8 ∅ [Text/Action for Ecruteak Inn]

[TEXT:]

currently taking your hottest exorcism tips
the top five submissions get a prize
the prize is whatever i get out of these boxes of abra jacks and if thats not your idea of a good time im sorry because theyre all i got stashed in this closet atm

if this is punishment for cultural appropriation at the festival im gomen
but can we maybe stop
onegai shimass

[ACTION FOR ECRUTEAK:]

[The great (???) thing about the ghost currently haunting Dave is that, for the most part, it stays out of sight, meaning that with everyone else distracted by their own phantasms, Dave managed to spend the whole day yesterday blatantly not acknowledging it, only twitching at its constant presence at the edge of his awareness. But after no sleep the entire night--negative sleep, probably, it's possible he will never sleep again, fuck every molecule of his being--he's just grabbed some foodstuffs, marched into the inn room closet, and settled in with his eyes shut, hugging the cereal boxes to his chest.

At least he can pretend Bro's not there, in the dark.]

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arent you supposed to convince me that hiding in a closet is the chumpable weenie option and save me with the power of love or something

DAVE IF YOU'RE SO FUCKING PANICKED THAT YOU RETREATED TO THE CLOSET TO BEGIN WITH DO YOU REALLY THINK I'M GOING TO LEAD THIS INTERVENTION WITH A STATEMENT LIKE "HEY STOP BEING A CHUMPABLE WEENIE"

im not panicked
im just
i needed a minute is all

DAVE

[For fuck's sake. This is why he fell so stupidly pale for you, you moron.]

OK FINE. YOU HAVE EMBARKED UPON AN IRONIC RETREAT, A PILGRIMAGE IF YOU WILL, THE DURATION OF WHICH YOU LEAVE IN THE HANDS OF FATE
THE DESTINATION: A FUCKING CLOSET. THE PROVISIONS: AN INDETERMINATE NUMBER OF ABRA JACKS BOXES.
THE MISSION: RELOCATE YOUR CHILL POST FUCKING HASTE.
DO YOU REQUIRE ANY ADDITIONAL SUPPLIES, SIR STRIDER THE HERMIT? BECAUSE YOU DIDN'T ANSWER THAT PART AND, LOOK, IF YOU DON'T TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT I'M JUST GOING TO GRAB WHATEVER

[p a u s e]

AND JADE, WHILE I'M AT IT.

no wait dont asdfklhg
JADE IF YOURE READING THIS IM FINE
JOHN THAT GOES FOR YOU TOO YOU JUST CONCENTRATE ON YOUR ANGER TANTRUM OR WHATEVER THE FUCK IT IS YOURE DOING OUT THERE
karkat just grab an aj and get over here already im making a fort

[... To call him out or not to call him out. Well—]

OK THAT'S AN ACCEPTABLE COMPROMISE. FOR NOW.
BUT YOU ARE GOING TO FUCKING TALK TO ME WHEN I GET THERE, DO YOU HEAR ME STRIDER? NO TALKING AROUND THE ISSUE OR BEING AN INSCRUTABLE DOUCHE OR WHATEVER.
I'M ON MY WAY.

[And he is, eventually. A few highly uncomfortable interludes during which he had to take unnecessarily circuitous routes to avoid his own ghost may or may not have taken place. Either way, he's soon at Dave's door, letting himself past Dave's door, and slamming Dave's door behind him because fuck off you stupid clown or he's never leaving the closet either.]

Dave, tell me that staying in there has at least been working for you because I'm getting really fucking sick of this.

Uh, define 'working.' Can you use it in a sentence.

[He's shut himself in a closet rather than deal constructively with the situation. How does Karkat think it's working.]

I know he's still there, if that's what you're asking.

[.... Mmph.]

Are you calmer. Than you were before.

[Or are they on the verge of another hysterical ablutionblock crying episode because, okay, he could live with that, actually, but he'd prefer Dave be, you know. Not abjectly miserable.]

...Yeah. I'm mostly okay, I think. It's just the obnoxious flickering ninja act was getting on my nerves.

[...]

Are you okay? Sorry for absconding.

... Okay.

[He takes a deep breath, then releases it slowly, finally deigning to look at the closet instead of glare balefully at the room at large. Dave's really shut up in there, isn't he? And, ha, "getting on my nerves," right, like that's the real issue behind all this. Just. Fuck Dave's lusus, seriously.

Scowling to himself, Karkat drifts further into the room and takes stock of the room, such as it is. Dave had said he was making a fort, which... has pretty obvious psychological implications that Karkat doesn't even need Rose to point out. All of them are fucking terrible.]

What have you got in there with you already? Do you seriously only have the fucking Abra Jacks boxes?

[Because Dave. Dave. You were doing so well at making piles before this, please say you're not really that distraught.

... and he didn't mean to avoid answering the question, really, he's just. More focused on Dave's mental state than his own right now. He's not the one huddled in a closet after all.]

[There's just a shuffle for a response for half a second, but then Dave nudges the door halfway open and gestures at his creation.]

What do you take me for. I'm an architectural prodigy, thanks.

[He's got most of cereal boxes stacked enough to make a small pillar. One end of one of the inn's non-festive yukata-bathrobe-things is draped over it, and the other has been weighted down by two sandals on top of the room safe. The result is an awning over a little triangular space where Dave's apparently been reading someone's (Karkat's) book with his PokéGear for a light.]

I can use my environment to my advan--hss.

[There goes Bro, flickering across the doorway behind Karkat, and Dave tenses up hard and then grimaces when he realizes he has, like he could kick himself for it.]

[Yeah, so that's basically impossible to ignore. Karkat tenses, too, but rather than turn his attention to the phantom Bro, wherever he's fucked off to, he takes a few careful steps forward and peers into the closet, making a big show of inspecting Dave's fortifications.]

Uh huh. Right. Like that wouldn't topple over the second Pounce rubbed a single fucking whisker against it.

[Or Sharru, except he would be destroying things more deliberately because Sharru. And, yeah, okay, bullshit about his Pokémon is only distracting in the short term, so don't mind if Karkat abandons all pretense in record time and just fucking gathers Dave up in a hug. They'll resume the actual conversation part/building the fort up some more later, shut up.]

[It takes a heartbeat, but Dave sags into that hug, letting over twenty-four hours of tension unwind out of him like the spooled tape in a cassette, tangled and useless. He breathes out unsteadily and buries his nose in Karkat's shoulder, his fingers in his shirt.]

...I don't want Jade or John in here 'cause I don't want them to feel bad they couldn't do anything while this fuckery was going on IRL.

[He talks low, like he doesn't want the ghost to hear them, either.]

They don't need to know.

[They're still liable to find out, or at least Jade is because she's not fucking blind, but Karkat is kind enough not to point that out right now. The last thing Dave needs is more stress, even if... seriously, what the fuck. Does he honestly think he can keep anything hidden from Jade? Neither of them can.

Karkat shuts his eyes and does his best to hold back a sigh. At least Dave is talking, even if he's being fucking stupid about it.]

I won't tell them. It's okay. [S l i g h t pause.] Besides, John's too busy losing his shit everywhere to notice anything. Not that I can blame him, I guess.

[Considering, well. Gamzee. And Bro. Seriously, why the fuck couldn't he have gotten his own lusus, at least then this random ass haunt bonanza could have had a consistent theme.]

Yeah. His dad, right?

[Christ, poor John. Had the dude ever really, like...he doesn't know. Mourned, or something? Of the four of them, he was the only one to ever really have an actual relationship with his parent.]

Shit. I should...

[Go see John. Try to fix this shit. But that means extricating himself from the warmth and safety of Karkat's arms and steeling himself again for the threat-flickers at the edges of his vision every time he turns his head. Means clinging with his toes to the last vestiges of his calm with Bro's presence looming tall over him.

Hm. No. No, nah, he's just gonna latch onto his boyfriend like a teddy bear and pretend the very idea of leaving this safe, dark place doesn't make him near sick with dread, thanks.

Dave swallows, breathes out sharply, and mumbles:]

This is so fucking stupid.

[No arguments there; just a wordless nod, a nuzzle. He will be your stuffed ursine comfort object, Dave, don't worry.]

It's okay. You can talk to him later, right? Or Jane can, I'm still not sure what the fuck is going on there.

[Damned human family structures. How do they have the same hatted lusus anyway if John and Jane are oh wait he doesn't actually give a fuck, glad that's been sorted out.

He nudges at the side of Dave's head with his own, hoping to distract him with... well, anything. What had they been talking about before all this again? Uh—]

Hey, I've still seen wigglers with more architectural prowess than you. Is this sad excuse for a fort really the best you can do?

[To be fair, the Jane-John Mobius Double Dad-around is bizarre even by human standards. Even by SBURBan human standards. Dave's not even gonna try to explain that one away, man.

Instead, he'll take that distraction gladly.]

Wow. What, are you gonna do me one better, Mr. Grey-and-Boxy-Is-My-Aesthetic? It's not like I got a lot of real estate in here to work with. Or materiel. That's military for shit.

[As he speaks, he sort of scoots forward and down until his arms aren't around Karkat's shoulders but his middle, and he's curled his body around Karkat like a quotation mark.

Congratulations once again on your affectionate cat boyfriend, Karkat. This is what happens when you give a needy wiggler an inch--he'll take a mile.]

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8 ∅ [Text/Action for Ecruteak Inn]

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