Dave Strider (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shenunigans) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2014-07-28 01:45 am
shenunigans) wrote in thecapitol2014-07-28 01:45 am
Entry tags:
Mmm watcha say
Who| Dave and OPEN with some closed prompts
What| Dead one day, back tomorrow. Accepting that you're probably not okay is hard.
Where| D9, D6 and the roof top
When| Just after the mini-arena.
Warnings/Notes| N/A
It's no surprise that he wakes up with a jolt. He'd passed out the moment his body slammed against the water and he'd been colder than he's ever been in his whole life. He can still see Clara's face ingrained in his fucking memory like a broken Etch A Sketch and he doesn't understand why he would feel guilty. He did a good thing, a great thing, he's too nervous to find out if Clem and Clara made it without him, he thinks he'd do anything to avoid seeing their reactions.
Feeling around on the bedside table finds him his shades and he presses them on his face like it hurt to be without them. It's not even that he's self conscious, not anymore, it's just that having that little reminder of the present his best friend gave him is pretty damn important at this point in time. He feels more like himself with them, because he doesn't really want to remember who he was in the arena. He clung to his brother, threw a guy overboard, nearly drove himself to killing someone else and sacrificed himself for a girl he'd spoken to three or four times. The last part, he thinks, he probably wouldn't change, but he could do without hearing about it.
Despite the wide variety of viable and fashionable clothing, he's opting for a stylishly worn shirt and red pajama pants that no stylist would ever hope to see him in. His clock print boxers stick out the top because he's too cool to pull his damn pants up and he drags his feet out of his room in search for people to distract him from his pity party.
There's a letter taped to his door and he tweaks it off, wondering who else saw it before he tucks it into the waistband of his pants and makes his way to his first self appointed task of the day.
[District 9 Suites]
Once Dave is back from his morning trip, he descends upon the couch shamelessly and claims it as his own. He's sprawled across it with a game controller resting on his stomach, but he isn't playing anything. He'd just prefer to be out somewhere he can see people rather than holed up in his room feeling sorry for himself. He's dreading some of the conversations, but he's confident he can derail them into something inane.
[The Roof]
By the time Dave makes it up here, it's well and truly night but not too dark. The view is pretty good, and if you squint, it doesn't look too different from home. It's relaxing to sit out here alone, even if he feels something like a stoner and a loner doing it. He feels a little more zen than he did, but deep down there's a niggling feeling. It's the guilt of feeling settled here in some ways and the discomfort of being jerked around so much. There isn't really a middle ground for it, you either settle or you fight it so much that things will never be the same. It's a tough pill to swallow, but if you can't be deep the day after you were meant to die then when the hell can you?
What| Dead one day, back tomorrow. Accepting that you're probably not okay is hard.
Where| D9, D6 and the roof top
When| Just after the mini-arena.
Warnings/Notes| N/A
It's no surprise that he wakes up with a jolt. He'd passed out the moment his body slammed against the water and he'd been colder than he's ever been in his whole life. He can still see Clara's face ingrained in his fucking memory like a broken Etch A Sketch and he doesn't understand why he would feel guilty. He did a good thing, a great thing, he's too nervous to find out if Clem and Clara made it without him, he thinks he'd do anything to avoid seeing their reactions.
Feeling around on the bedside table finds him his shades and he presses them on his face like it hurt to be without them. It's not even that he's self conscious, not anymore, it's just that having that little reminder of the present his best friend gave him is pretty damn important at this point in time. He feels more like himself with them, because he doesn't really want to remember who he was in the arena. He clung to his brother, threw a guy overboard, nearly drove himself to killing someone else and sacrificed himself for a girl he'd spoken to three or four times. The last part, he thinks, he probably wouldn't change, but he could do without hearing about it.
Despite the wide variety of viable and fashionable clothing, he's opting for a stylishly worn shirt and red pajama pants that no stylist would ever hope to see him in. His clock print boxers stick out the top because he's too cool to pull his damn pants up and he drags his feet out of his room in search for people to distract him from his pity party.
There's a letter taped to his door and he tweaks it off, wondering who else saw it before he tucks it into the waistband of his pants and makes his way to his first self appointed task of the day.
[District 9 Suites]
Once Dave is back from his morning trip, he descends upon the couch shamelessly and claims it as his own. He's sprawled across it with a game controller resting on his stomach, but he isn't playing anything. He'd just prefer to be out somewhere he can see people rather than holed up in his room feeling sorry for himself. He's dreading some of the conversations, but he's confident he can derail them into something inane.
[The Roof]
By the time Dave makes it up here, it's well and truly night but not too dark. The view is pretty good, and if you squint, it doesn't look too different from home. It's relaxing to sit out here alone, even if he feels something like a stoner and a loner doing it. He feels a little more zen than he did, but deep down there's a niggling feeling. It's the guilt of feeling settled here in some ways and the discomfort of being jerked around so much. There isn't really a middle ground for it, you either settle or you fight it so much that things will never be the same. It's a tough pill to swallow, but if you can't be deep the day after you were meant to die then when the hell can you?
no subject
But does he want to talk about it? Should she try? That's the part she doesn't know. Anna and Dave are different in the sense that Anna doesn't mind talking things out, but Dave has always been a bit more withdrawn. She hadn't been able to get him to open up too much about his powers and how they've caused trouble in the past, so she knows he's not the type to talk about things too openly. Times like this, she doesn't know what to even do.
"You, having trouble focusing on...Vidy games?" That feels wrong, but she continues anyway, reaching out to press a hand to his forehead. "You must be sick!" She's trying to joke with him, anything to lighten the mood a little. She opens her mouth, almost deciding to ask him if he's okay, before deciding against it for now, so she closes her mouth and just smiles at him, hoping he doesn't notice what just happened there.
no subject
So he decides he shouldn't be worrying her like an asshole, not when she looks more ill and tired than he's seen her before. If it makes her better to focus his attention on her, he'll allow it, plus the hand on his forehead is kind of nice. "Yeah I know, me and my vidy games is tight." He won't correct her. "Got a lot on my mind, I guess. That one was a toughie, surprised I made it as long as I did." He says candidly, moving his feet off her to search for his spare controller so he can gesture for her to take it. "You wanna play a vidy game?" Can you resist the way his brows waggle?
no subject
To be honest, she's a little hesitant. She's never touched one, unless unplugging it to make Dave stop playing it counts. But... this could be something the two of them can do together. She isn't quite ready to go out and face the Capitol, so staying in and dabbling in vidy might be fun. It helps that his little eyebrow waggle is irresistible.
"Oh, well. Why not?" she says, breaking into a small grin. "But you have to teach me. I've never played them before!" Big shocker there. "What will we play?"
no subject
Perhaps, if she were to see how fun they were, she'd stop unplugging his controller or turning the games off midway through when she knows what a bitch it can be to get through them. He rests the controller by her and moves forward to sweep his hands over the console the Capitol has provided. It's way fancier than the shit he had at home, but he's figured it out for the most part.
"Errr..." He scratches his chin thoughtfully before he grunts as an idea hits him. "A racing game- duh. Gonna be easier than that time you cross-countried on that bike." He sits back and nudges her with his elbow. A line of animals dressed in swanky racing gear appear on screen and Dave instantly chooses the bird, showing her how he does it as he does. "Just flick the little stick thingy across and hit the green button when you figure out which one you want."
no subject
"I didn't know they made racing vidy games!" she says, and there's a definite eagerness in her tone now as she takes the controller and gives it an intense look over. By the time she's studied it, he's made it to the character select screen.
Hesitantly, Elsa moves the stick. It's a strange thing to witness the screen move with her actions, but she lets out a giggle and nudges it again. After a moment, she gets the hang of it. "Hmm... Who to pick?" she muses aloud, biting her bottom lip thoughtfully. It takes her a minute or two, because she's really giving it some thought- it comes down between the Polar Bear and the Penguin.
In the end, she picks the bear because it's bigger and obviously that means better, and she feels like it's a little less predictable than a cutesy penguin. "Okay- green button, there- Oh, are these the racing tracks? Can we do that one-?"
She's of course pointing to the ice stage. Of course.
no subject
He watches and is entirely unsurprised by her choice and he snorts. "Look at it, it's so fat it has fuzz-rolls over the side of his sweet wheels." His crow is awesome and not obvious, she's the obvious one. She goes on to be even more obvious with her interest in that track.
"Wow really, Elsa? Ice? Are you sure?" He flicks her a taunting glance from the corner of his eye before he selects it. How the hell could he say no to that face? He'd be a vidy game tyrant. He selects it and the screen flashes up with the instructions, which he gives her a chance to read before the countdown begins.
"Prepare to meet your maker." He practically hisses that out as he accelerates forward, his swish car followed by a puff of smoke.
no subject
Gosh.
"You talk a big talk," she says, feeling herself slipping into a bit more of a competitive state of mind. "But you're underestimating me, Dave." It feels weirdly good to sound all confident and, in words she doesn't use, badass. She's quick to accelerate too in her own puff of smoke, quickly passing the NPC racers. It's obvious the two of them are gonna be head to head for a while.
In a spur of the moment decision, she rams her bear into his racer's car.
no subject
Hell, he might be prouder than he is annoyed that she's pretty damn good, good enough to ram him like that. It certainly has an impact, given that the little bird is better for speed than strength.
"Woah- animal abuse. Careful there, Elsa." He shoots her a side look and mutters to himself like she's really thrown him, being discreet about shooting up the side and zipping over the sneaky speed patch so he zooms ahead. "THAT'S more like it."
no subject
But now? Now she's really getting into it. "Hey!" she lets out, almost scandalized at the way his racer shoots forward when it hits that speed patch. "I think you're cheating!"
The race continues much like that, with Elsa doing whatever she can in order to get ahead. As it happens though, she finds herself staying just behind Dave most of the time, no matter how hard she works to get ahead of him. The two of them have a fairly easy time staying ahead of the NPC racers, so it really comes down to the both of them. She's not a sore loser or anything like that, but there's something inside of her that's sort of panicking as they near the final lap and he's still ahead of her. A sort of feeling like she might throw the controller if she doesn't win.
But she isn't a sore loser, no.
In a spur of the moment decision, she realizes that if she can't win then she doesn't want Dave to win. So she gives into that urge to throw the controller, only to turn to Dave and reach forward to dig her fingers into his sides and wriggle them, the goal being to tickle him so much that he can't focus on the race anymore. "You aren't going to win if I can help it!"
no subject
He feels pretty confident that he'll win and he just finds it endearing that she's so eager to try anyway. He doesn't notice when she has her realization because he's busy WINNING, so the hands on his sides are unexpected enough to draw an offended squawk at him as he tries to wriggle away. His driver lurches to the side and he raises his controller upward as if winning will somehow make this stop.
"NOW WHOSE CHEATING? HUH? NOW WHO? SORE LOSER. WOW. STOP THAT. I'M WINNING- AUGH. I'M STILL WINNING."
no subject
In fact, her tactic changes when he lifts up the controller. She moves her fingers up and digs them under his arm, figuring that if she can tickle him there then he has a better chance at making him drop the controller. Her ferocity is only fueled when she glances over at the screen and sees her bear sitting there as other racers pass by, with Dave still in the lead.
"If I can't win, then neither of us can!" Her voice is determined and a little growl-y as she just tickles him all the more ferociously.
no subject
He tries to reach for it, but that ain't happening soon and racers are zipping past to claim first prize. He lets himself fall from the couch to his knees on the floor, holding his arms out in front of him dramatically.
"No. Why. Why do bad things happen to good people? I was so close. I was there." He isn't even going to acknowledge you, Elsa. You have betrayed him.
no subject
When she hears what he's saying, Elsa starts laughing, as it all hits her just what's happened. She'd been so caught up in the competitiveness of it that now that she's won, it's just catching up to her. "It's just a game, Dave!" she says- hypocrite. She took it just as seriously as he is. "Come on- do you want to play again?"
She sounds fired up and ready to go.
i think we can end this here?
He dead eyes his controller, but eventually scoops it up and crawls into a chair away from her. "I won't go easy on you this time." Which is as good as a yes. By the time they're done here, they'll both be hardened video game addicts. Probably.