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

My hypothetical cat names are reserved for my hypothetical cats. [ who will PROBABLY NEVER EXIST regardless of pet rules at his apartment. ] I had water a few hours ago. Before Bro got home? I had some juice, too.

Okay. When we're done, I'd like you to have some more. Do you think you can stomach it?

[Blood loss = body needs water to create more. Also, hydration is very rarely a bad idea.]

Yeah. [ water is easy to accept. granted, he might not turn down food at some point either if only because there is a certain Lack of it at home right now. he ran through his stockpile and needs to restock? ] Need to, anyway.

[ he's...had blood loss a lot ok ]

You don't have other stuff to do?

Edited 2017-03-13 03:11 (UTC)

Nothin' on the agenda. [And if English sends him a call, he'll tell him to reroute it to Lalonde. Dirk, as far as he's concerned, is doing his goddamned job by helping Dave. Saving lives is why he took this job in the first place.

He finishes up the stitches and then cleans up the wound one last time.] Are there any other wounds? Scrapes, minor cuts. Anythin' that needs cleanin' out. It would be kinda not cool if you managed to die of an infection.

Edited (how do we both keep doing this) 2017-03-13 03:14 (UTC)

[ dirk get another of those measured glances before dave just pulls off his hoodie and shirt entirely. any cuts he has are, mostly, up top for the moment. he's pretty sure his knees didn't get skinned when he slipped, he'd feel that. after another second he takes off his shades (he managed to keep them on through the other removal through talent) so dirk can get at his black eye and a cut near his left eyebrow if he really wants. ]

Bro's swords and shit are all really well taken care of.

[ dave is the one with shitty weaponry?

also i guess i should mention he's pretty obviously too skinny and there are a bunch of, you know, cuts and scrapes from sword shit. some of the stuff is older scars, some of it is healing over scabs, but there are new things. oops. ]

Edited 2017-03-13 03:19 (UTC)

[Yeah. Well-taken care of weapons, and a neglected and abused brother. Dirk has to tamp down on his anger.]

Debris and dirt gets into weaponry in the course of a fight; you know that.

[Dirk starts with the largest wounds. These ones don't need stitches, so it's either a bandage or medical grade superglue after he cleans them out. He's precise and professional always; he has seen too much of this kind of thing not to be.]

[ the worst part is probably how nothing dave is given to fight with stands a shot in hell against bro's sword. too many of his own have broken under pressure. at every turn, he isn't given a single opportunity to succeed.

dave's holding himself still. his eyes, unshaded, flicker around but don't quite focus on anything, least of all dirk. this continues to be the first time he's ever allowed anyone to patch him up, and it's taking most of his concentration not to yank himself back. ]

I clean 'em. [ his wounds, he means. and most of his scars look like they healed okay. only the oldest ones are less-so, before dave learned his way around first aid. ]

You're really good at it. The newest injuries, after these, look like they'll heal nicely.

[If they aren't opened up again. If they aren't deliberately fucked with. There are a few injuries that Dirk is pretty sure were healing right and then got torn open and wrecked.]

[ another compliment. dave is still not sure how to handle them, but at least he has stopped freezing at every one. or he doesn't freeze at this one?

he's starting to become uncertain as to whether or not dirk actually has an angle. ]

I might have a week for 'em to heal, or more. Or a few hours or a day.

[ an Uncertain timeframe. ]

Do you expect your brother back tonight?

[Okay, that's the last of the injuries patched up. His next move is to go to get Dave a glass of cold water. He offers it to Dave but he's hovering; if Dave's at risk of slipping, he'll make sure that the glass doesn't fall. He is trying to strike the balance between respecting a jittery kid's autonomy and keeping him safe.]

I don't think so?

[ uncertain and unwilling to be firm because dave simply does not know. he doesn't even know where bro goes - ]

Where does he go? [ he'll take the water with both hands. that's...a little easier to grip, though he lowers the glass and balances it on his leg, not taking a sip yet. ] When he's not home, where does he go?

We never tracked him. You were our priority for that case, and you asked us to cancel it before we could move on to considering surveillance on him an option.

The Machine knows, but she's never flagged him as a number for us. and he hasn't ever come up in any cases other than yours.

[ he...kind of really wants to know, but also, dave isn't sure he wants to ask. for one thing, bro would notice surveillance even faster than dave had. for another, does it even matter? whatever it is has always mattered more in the long run.

dave...

takes a sip of his water, actually. it's cold. that's nice. ]

"She".

Lalonde calls the Machine a 'she.' If that's the gender identity that our AI overlord has expressed to her biggest fan, then who am I to question it? I say let it use Roxy's bathrooms too.

[Dave drinking is good! Dirk approves of Dave drinking. Now that he's pretty sure the drink is stable, he goes to shutter the blinds so that it isn't quite as bright in here. He's quick to get back to Dave's side in case a spell of dizziness occurs.]

[ well, okay then, if roxy lalonde says so who is dave to argue.

he starts to slouch back into the couch, careful to just kind of. gently rest his head, tilted, on the pillow. it's easier than trying to hold himself upright the entire way.

lalonde triggers something, but he's wandered too far away mentally to fully go "right, rose". instead, dave takes another sip of the water. ]

...I owe you one.

[ for...whatever this is? even though it had mostly been a call to make sure he wouldn't die on his bathroom floor. ]

Apparently not enough of one to tell me the name you'd give a cat.

[That's gently teasing. Dave's still drinking the water, so Dirk's good for now. He'll let him wait a bit before he tries to bring food.]

Technically, we never saved your number. This could be billed to English as working hours.

I didn't die. [ when his number came up, he meant. and yet he'd wanted to know if his number was up while on the bathroom floor trying to breathe right? because if it hadn't, he was fine. and if it had...

well, he'd manage to spite the number system, or something.

or maybe he'd just called because he actually needed help? it is a thought that shouldn't be disquieting, but is. ]

Bro doesn't get all...passionate aggressive or whatever your perpetrators do.

No, he doesn't. [Dirk's voice is very quiet. He is holding back on aggression and anger. The only emotion that comes through, really, is a certain resigned sadness.] He doesn't show any emotion at all. He's a thirty-seven year old man who regularly but unpredictably subjects his thirteen year old charge to armed violent combat where he has the best weapons money can buy and the other combatant has weaponry that can only be called 'pieces of shit.' This leads to injuries that could be fatal if not treated properly. He keeps weapons in the fridge and cherry bombs in the ice dispenser. He doesn't provide food or other basic care, let alone medical attention after combat. In terms of watching his brother, he uses around-the-clock video surveillance where it's uncertain whether he's even watching to know if something fatal, like a head injury, happens.

He isn't like most of our other perpetrators, but can you blame the Machine for thinkin' he's going to be the reason you die one of these days?

[ the really shitty thing is dave can't give the excuse but he loves me. that's a terrible excuse for abuse, and it isn't always true, but dave has never been able to bring himself to say it because honestly, he has no fucking clue what bro thinks about him. probably he hates him? that seems more likely than anything else, although sheer neutrality is also a possibility. he doesn't think bro would really let him die, but some of that is because it would probably be an inconvenience and then what would bro do with his spare time? the spare time not spent fucking off into the void, anyway. ]

He used to make sure I got food before I could get it for myself. [ what he ends up saying is a haphazard defense; dave's played the hype man for thirteen years, possibly trying to convince himself more than anyone else s to his brother's possible fraternal affections and that dave strider was Fine. ] And I learned the medical stuff like I was supposed to, on my own?

You did. You got incredibly adapt at lookin' after yourself for your age. Your own financial channel helped you with food, and you've mastered those chores you mentioned to me. You're better at handling combat situations than most trained adults, not to mention your counter-surveillance skills, and your assistance on that Latvian mob number proves that you can read people and situations skillfully.

The thing is, the Machine knows all of that, but she flagged you down because she studies how humans behave and predicts violent deaths based on that information. She saw your situation, assessed it as likely to lead to your death, and wanted us to try to stop that from happening. She'll probably send us your number again when she predicts that your brother's Strifes will increase in violence and thereby increase the probability of a fatality.

She can't read your brother's mind, just try to predict his actions. The numbers are... her way of telling us something unusual is happening and that it will be dangerous. That's basically how her core heuristics work. She's supposed to observe for anomalies and draw attention to them to protect human lives. My theory is that she predicted that not even the best-trained, most capable human being in the world could survive forever in your situation. That wouldn't fit what she knows of humans.

[ that's a lot of brutal truth in one go. dave's probably not in a place mentally or physically where he can really take it. even if he admits to anyone other than himself that bro probably doesn't love him, probably never has - what then? rose and john and jade all complain about their guardians, and they think his mild reports are jokes.

he knows, really, that if he ever said they weren't jokes the others would listen. but dave can't bring himself to do that. he doesn't want them to change how they treat him: normal, the only people in the universe who treat him completely normal, and it is a bastion in a sea of weirdness. even dirk and his friends are a weird unknown variable not approaching the mundane dave skirts with his own group.

but what about the whole love thing as a concept? if he admits bro doesn't love him, who does? his friends love the parts of himself he shares with them, the face he puts on and the dumb antics he'll throw at them. this is true. but dave doesn't have family beyond bro; that's the beginning and end. he's on his own to a degree now but at least he's on his own in a way he gets, a way he can handle. this fuck up was on him, not bro. wasn't it?

if he approaches any of the other thoughts being thrust at him, there's a very real chance his entire world will crumble to pieces. ]

I get better at it all the time. [ earnest, but quiet, as his eyes shut. he never put the shades back on. they were brushing against a cut awkwardly earlier and it's not like there's a point to it right now. ] I just fuck it up sometimes, that's all.

[ he feels like it's probably his fault his number came up at all. he's supposed to be better trained than that.

rose had been saying something, though, hadn't she? earlier. about bro. what was it? ]

You do get better all the time. Fuckin' up, though, that's the human condition.

[He puts his hand on Dave's glass. The reason he said all this is the same reason he compliments Dave, the reason Dirk told him he does: Dirk doesn't bullshit. Not when it counts. Dirk thinks Dave is smart and capable. He knows Dave is in an abusive situation. He has very carefully avoided that word but he isn't going to lie about the rest. He understands how the Machine works, so he knows why she picked this kid. She wants them to get him out of that situation.]

You're doin' good with the water. Do you think you could handle somethin' light to eat? I have crackers and bread, some fruits. [He'll go out and get anything he doesn't have after he's been with Dave long enough to be sure Dave isn't suffering from internal bleeding or otherwise at high risk.]

What fruits? [ he could probably put more actual fruit in his diet so as long as he's actually considering accepting the offer he may as well go for the thing that isn't usually there. crackers and bread keep longer, so he does have those semi-regularly. kinda. ]

[ as to the human condition: ] It's the worst I ever fucked up. This is probably the nearest I ever came to anythin' like death, and your machine didn't catch it - [ he pauses. ] Second nearest. But you didn't look me up six years ago. [ when dave was seven. ]

Oranges. Bananas, apples. One avocado.

I didn't have this job six years ago. What happened when you were seven?

[ hm. he wants an apple, but. that might be a little too hard to chew right now? ]

Can I have a banana? [ that should be easy enough. no resounding crunch when you bite in. as to when he was seven: ]

I got sick.

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this is over 400 comments and i'm 1 and half seasons into this show, i h8 u

yes and i'm proud

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