lucybox | whatever

whatever

EPISODE 1: meeting
EPISODE 2: the latvian mob
EPISODE 3: a concussion
EPISODE 4: bench talk
EPISODE 5: break-in

[ what would someone following the number connected to dave strider notice during recon? well.

dave strider, thirteen, gangly and edging on getting taller but way too skinny, angular and bony in a way that says he could stand to eat more food more often. he constantly wears shades. he equally constantly wears long-sleeved shirts and jeans in the houston heat. dave is too careful to ever let that shirt ride up enough to show what's underneath, and he never lets his shades get jostled off his face in public.

the kid has more of an online presence than his brother. he runs a webcomic with an avant garde sense of style and some truly disturbing strips that occasionally seem to correspond with times his number has come up; he sells shit on the site sometimes, t-shirts or book compilations or keychains. the money isn't saved but tends to get spent on groceries. he trolls internet forms at random but does seem to speak regularly to at least three other kids, and has for at least three years. these conversations are all mostly superficial even though the kids are close. the deepest he ever gets in them is with rose lalonde, who lives in new york. sometimes they talk about his dreams.

to each of them he only has positive things to say about his brother, whom he idolizes.

the other half of his computer use seems to go to online school, which dave does all right on. he only occasionally misses deadlines, but more frequently turns shit in ahead of time. he participates haphazardly on the forums as required, but aside from an odd sense of humor and a decent grasp on the subjects, he doesn't say anything worth reading.

following dave in person is harder. he doesn't leave the apartment often except to go to the store, or occasionally the library. he has hung out in the park once or twice but always goes home the second his cellphone buzzes with a text. his interactions with other people are limited; he's polite and casually friendly and charming to the grocery store employees and the librarian, and he doesn't turn people away when they talk to him exactly, but he never discusses anything of note and always excuses himself pretty quickly. dave doesn't like to be touched and doesn't let it happen, never needing to flinch back because he moves faster than that, and doesn't let himself get in the position where someone will try to touch him.

at the store he gets apple juice and bread and peanut butter. or junk food that keeps longer, kept at the back of his closet. nothing he has to refrigerate or heat up. at the library he gets art and film books or photography collections or comics or shit like my teacher is an alien or animorphs or pretty much anything. he doesn't usually check them out to go back home, unless it's a thing for school. when he signs his name on anything it's a careful angular scrawl and he likes to do it in red - dave always keeps a red pen in his pockets. at the park he tends to sit on a bench with good sightlines and sometimes he'll feed birds bits of torn bread and sometimes he'll scroll through shit on his phone (tumblr, random sites, pesterchum) but mostly he just kind of sits there and listens to music.

he downloads a lot of music. sometimes he mixes up new shit and uploads it, sending it to his friends or occasionally just keeping it to himself. dave maintains some social media accounts but is weird about them. there are disjointed quotes or phrases and oddly angled pictures and he seems to treat them like some sort of joke only he gets, but he's almost dedicated to them like he doesn't seem to be to a lot of shit. there's a blog he used to update but doesn't any longer about tony hawk and other things and every glimpse into his mind through his words is unclear and a little off.

a lot of the time he seems to be in the apartment alone. he isn't always, despite appearances, and he knows it. there's a ton of surveillance equipment inside the apartment and dave treats the cameras and recording devices with a casual weariness and wariness. his brother is constantly monitoring both dave and the equipment; fucking with that would probably be a bad idea for anyone paying attention, but it might be possible to jack some of those frequencies, if you're careful.

inside the apartment he mostly stays in his room. when he comes out he's nervous and cautious but nothing ever shows on his face. even in the sanctity of his own room this is true; dave doesn't emote when he can help it and even when he jumps when a trap goes off, his expression doesn't change an iota. when he speaks his voice is low and too-texan, but he doesn't usually unless he's outside of the apartment and has to. there is no point, since his brother seems disinterested in speaking to the kid. he rambles in his interactions with other people online but in person always cuts them short, seemingly uncomfortable with talking for too long.

the one activity that takes up most of his time, however, is training. at any hour of the day or night dave might be called to the roof. bro owns the entire building, and no one has ever called in anything about the striders. if they have, it was taken care of quickly and quietly and nothing ever got to the people who might have done something with it. bro watches everything and this is how things go: dave goes up the stairs with a sword in hand and once he's at the top it starts and then it keeps going until it's over. sometimes it goes on past that. it can take hours on end or only a few minutes, and there isn't any way to predict which it's going to be. eventually dave's left alone and he lies on the roof for a bit until he picks himself up and goes back inside the apartment. he patches himself up quickly and efficiently and doesn't complain at all. the most he has ever done is inform john egbert he got his ass kicked, and john assumed dave was exaggerating like dave always does.

here's another thing to notice: dave strider is used to being watched. he's paranoid about it, trying to read from every tiny clue in his life what will happen next and coming up blank. so when there's an extra pair of eyes he notices after a few hours, and he doesn't like the feeling. he picks himself up off the roof and ignores a broken wrist and too many cuts to count and probably a few cracked ribs in order to lean over the edge of the railing, eyes scanning surrounding buildings with a tense little frown.

it's pointless to tell bro. it might be bro. is he supposed to confront the change or ignore it? it's impossible to tell when bro wants him to roll with something or dig his heels in, and if he can't figure it out quick before the inscrutable time limit runs out, bro will probably be disappointed. and also maybe mad? it's hard to tell if bro ever gets mad or anything else at all, but dave would like to avoid that eventuality and measure up, so...

so.

right.

he can't spot who might be watching him but he didn't expect to. he can never spot bro in the apartment, either. so maybe he needs to change the location? maybe this is counter-surveillance training. it's not the usual so it has to be something else, after all. he's too tired to think it through but that doesn't really matter because there's probably a time limit and he shouldn't be too tired for it so he can't be.

the next day dave will completely disregard his usual daily schedule and leave the apartment. his injuries are taken care of even if he's oddly careful about his wrist, a makeshift brace involving a wrist watch making it casual. dave can always make his walk seem easy and relaxed no matter what he's hiding. he doesn't go to any of his usual locations. instead he goes to the movie theater, wastes precious grocery money on a ticket for a random action movie, and immediately ditches through an emergency exit in the theater once he's zipped in.

he loiters around out of sight to see if he can catch anyone coming out after him.

there are a dozen other little trips and traps like that planned if his simple first-ditch effort doesn't work as he zigzags around the city with absolutely no gameplan, testing the waters to see what comes up. there's no possibility of waiting for probably-bro to explain himself, because bro doesn't do explanations. so. time to figure out the rules as best he can and hope it's what he's supposed to be doing.

the lack of any ominous texts to his phone is either encouraging or terrifying. dave can't be fucked to figure out which it is, exactly. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

So far, yes.

[lmao dirk is. changing directions to walk towards Dave's apartment now.]

Ok. [ ok. good to know. probably not gonna die then? presumably?

haha shit. ]

Does that mean I could like jump off a building and not die, or would doin' that spit out a number?

[ for the record he is not considering jumping off a building. ]

[....!!]

No number for two reasons. One, suicides aren't considered crimes. Two, only premeditated acts get numbers. Crimes of opportunity are outside our scope.

[Nngh he's kinda hovering here on the edge of pushing but he doesn't want to push too far so he decides to play it a little longer. If Dave can ask, then Dirk doesn't risk alienating him by being too aggressive or intrusive. So: wait.]

Uh, [ another pause as he tries to work it through. ] So, [ hm ] If someone didn't plan to hurt me and that killed me would it not be premeditated then?

[ look ]

[MAKING MY WAY DOWNTOWN WALKING FAST

*WALKING FASTER*]

The syntax on that one is a little unclear, so I'll break it down. If someone intended on killing you through neglect, your number would come up. If someone did not intend on killing you but did by accident, your number wouldn't.

[ uhhhhhhhh. ]

So, like, [ hypothetically ] hypothetically speakin' you wouldn't, like, have a warnin' if I [ what word to use? ] fell and hit my head and stuff.

[ technically, he did fall and hit his head on his own. the reason he slipped was something that had some help from one of bro's quick visits and quicker strifes. somehow dave is never sure if the marathon sessions or the hour-long or less sessions are better.

shit. ok. he'd let it just happen out of sheer general apathy but his friends would be wrecked and rose had been saying - things. lately. ]

Hypothetically, no.

[FAST WALKING INTENSIFIES??? it's sonic in here

he's resisting jogging though,, he doesn't want to alarm dave]

[ this call is not as reassuring as dave was hoping it was going to be. THANKS, DIRK. ]

Do you have medic trainin'?

[ beyond wrists. okay shit he should get out of the apartment because he can't let anyone else into the apartment, then bro really would maybe consider killing him which dave still finds pretty highly unlikely. bro is incredibly intense about his privacy and dave is not actually sure he should be risking this phone call but he'd figured maybe the reassurance he wouldn't bite it would like, make the word a shinier place or something.

dirk failed to deliver on this? ]

[HE WAS RIGHT TO START MOVING]

Plenty. Even for hypothetical head injuries.

No hospitals.

[ to confirm but like. ok he can...get himself out of the apartment after struggling into a hoodie. standing is still questionable but dave's done worse to himself so he can manage that, too. he read somewhere you're supposed to stay awake with head injuries and he's wandered mentally a few times in the conversation but so far he doesn't think he'll pass out?

mostly because he thinks he'll be ill first but w/e. ]

I can't let you in the apartment either Bro has cameras and shit? I think some of them are livefeeds for his site but I've never bought a subscription 'cause I super don't want to know and also I'm not, uh, into puppets? I'm not sure why there is a subset of the internet that is, in that way. Like. Why can't they be into puppets in a less perverted way, and just have like innocent hand puppetry shows tellin' fairy tales to good kids?

[ a few of those words were slurred but he gets through the tangent, giving his best try at Composed and In Control ]

No hospitals.

[He has hit the front door of the building.]

I'm at the building now. I can meet you outside your apartment, if that's okay with you. I can do an initial check there, but I'll probably have to bring you back to my place.

[ dave takes that as permission to just sit down next to the wall near his apartment, hard. ]

Yeah, ok. I'd tell you which one but you already know.

[ because stalker. or superhero. or whatever dave has settled on for the day. he would tilt his head back to rest it against the wall but that seems monumentally stupid when he cracked it against the bathroom sink earlier, too hard. there's. definitely blood on the back of his head? it's hard to tell what other injuries he might have with the too-large hoodie he threw on, but there's some blood on the knee of his jeans, too, like he slipped in some earlier and fell in it. ]

Idk where Bro is since he left - an hour ago? I think? - but I don't think he's comin' back tonight so that should be ok. [ unless he gets a text and it isn't but bro typically doesn't check in on him that often when he's in his weird ghost phases. ] All my chores are done, and all. I mean, if I had chores. I don't? Sometimes I assign myself chores but it's not like I can do most of 'em besides laundry.

Which ones do you assign? [It's to keep Dave talking as Dirk slips into the elevator. HE STILL HAS RECEPTION Englishmobile is great phone coverage or whatever.]

Laundry. Cleanin' my room. Those are normal ones, right? Uh. I feed the crows sometimes. They're like pets only I don't own them and also they do whatever the fuck they want, although I guess the latter applies to pets, too?

[ still slurring words here and there but he's trying to stay on topic. ish. ]

I'd do dishes but I don't think we own any?

Those are normal ones, yeah. Have you named any of the crows? I used to hang out with the seagulls where I grew up. Gave 'em nicknames based on their patterns.

[The elevator goes ding on the top floor and Dirk immediately heads for Dave. When he sees him, he kneels down beside him.]

Can I pull down your hood? You can tell me about the crows while I check it out. [He's already pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket (don't ask why he has one) and also the sandwich was trashed on the walk here? Sorry sandwich.]

Yeah.

[ just don't. jostle him because there are other injuries he is less willing to draw attention to right this second. he's not sure if dirk has to check his pupils or whatever but his shades are, as per usual, in place.

mostly he tries to hold still.

ALSO, SOMEDAY DIRK WILL EAT A SANDWICH ]

Uh. Mostly stupid puns. Eminwren. Kanye Nest. Bluejay-Z.

[He's very careful with pulling down the hood. He has to use his fingers to inspect, and he's careful. the test is if the skull bone has fractured in or if it's a surface thing. Either way there's almost definitely a concussion to deal with and hopefully not any other internal bleeding. Luckily, his team is all prone to serious bodily harm and can't get normal medical attention, so he should have what he needs. If he requires back-up, he'll try to get the kid's okay to bring in Lalonde.]

Grouse Springsteen?

[ there's a brief snort of laughter before dave freezes. it's a wince without wincing. ]

No, but maybe I'll add it to the rotation. [ there doesn't seem to be a fracture, but he definitely knocked his head enough for the whole. bleeding a bit thing and dazed thing. dave thinks he maybe passed out for a second or two but has yet to volunteer that information. it's the worst he's ever hit his head, since he's usually good at defending himself from cracking it in a fight.

so go figure he'd concuss himself after one. god. ]

For the record I tried askin' google if I was gonna die before I asked you but google always thinks I'm gonna die so I decided I'd get a second opinion.

Your skull hasn't caved in, so that's a good start. [He takes the handkerchief and does a quick wrap to bandage it up. It's not ideal but it will do to slow the bleeding for now. He tugs the hood back on and then pulls back to face Dave. He pulls a finger out and holds it in front of Dave.]

I need you to take your shades off, then try to focus on this and follow it. When did it happen and what are you experiencing? Slurred speech, easily distracted. Feelin' dizzy and havin' a hard time stayin' awake?

[IF DAVE COMPLIES, he will move the finger slowly. He wants to see how well Dave can focus and track the movement.]

Edited 2017-03-12 12:36 (UTC)

[ it takes a few seconds. dave does eventually reach up to pull his shades off, but he's not. super happy about it. his eyes are weird and it means a black eye is more visible when it exists. he does currently have one. the light is not super great on his eyes right now and there's a wince, but hey.

he tries to track dirk's finger but has some difficulty. it is a good effort? but. ]

Before I called you. I don't know how long. Fifteen minutes? Or more? I don't know if I passed out. [ after he hit his head, although he has no idea what dirk is assuming about the origin of this particular injury. ] Dizzy. Nauseous? My head feels - blurry. Like there's cotton wrapped around every thought or - whatever. Lots of little lost lambs millin' around aimlessly waitin' to be slaughtered. Or sheared? What do you do with lambs?

[Dirk barely has time to register the eyes, or even the black eye. Priority is to the head wound.]

That depends on if they were bred for fleece or for meat. You can put your shades back on. Thanks.

[Okay. He's going to have to move Dave, and that is going to suck. And... he'll have to take an elevator. That sucks more. But the stairs would be worse, so, fucking elevator it is.]

It might be a concussion. Not awesome, but also not likely to be fatal. We're gonna go down the elevator, and then I'm going to get a cab to take you back to my place. I'll get the back of your head patched up properly and I'll keep an eye out for more severe systems. All clear?

Edited 2017-03-12 12:53 (UTC)

[ ... ]

I got cut. [ so, ] And I slipped in my blood before I could stitch it?

[ he wasn't going to mention it but he doesn't know how close dirk's apartment is and maybe he should so dirk can do a patch bandage job or whatever.

he will slide his shades back on, though, although it takes him like two tries to get them on straight. ]

Show me where.

[Also that. Gives Dirk a sense of what happened: strife, injury, slipping in blood, head wound.]

[ he has the timeline down exactly. dave was in the bathroom trying to patch himself up and things did not go As Planned. dave hesitates again but tugs up the hoodie and his shirt. right side, deep cut. it's still kind of bleeding but hadn't soaked through to the hoodie yet so w/e!!! ]

[Okay. Fuck. He knows the kid's brother has sewing equipment for this smuppets, but Dave wouldn't let him in despite Dirk's own precautions with that apartment. But. Building full of people.]

Okay. I'm going to break into the apartment beneath yours for something to temporarily stem the bleeding. [Superglue is not going to be great on a cut like that even for a temporary fix. It'd be tough for a wrap, too and the thread wouldn't be adequate. He'll see what he can find.] I'll stitch it up when you get you to my place. I'm going to call you; stay on the phone with me while I'm downstairs.

[Dirk takes out his phone and dials Dave; then switches to the earpiece.] I hear crows are smart. Tell me about yours while I get this shit.

[He will move as soon as he sees Dave is going to lift up his phone and keep talking. He cannot let Dave out of sight if he doesn't have a means to know immediately if he goes unconscious.]

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