lucybox | slams hands on table best friends

slams hands on table best friends

[ dave strider ends up choosing cinematography to study because, fuck, why not? it's almost graduation when he finally decides, and it's sort of at random. it's not that he doesn't like video-taping shit (he does) or that he isn't into special effects and sound stuff (he is) but there's a lot of shit dave is into and he wasn't sure how to translate that to college. he loves music; he loves dance; he's really into the film shit and his shitty comics, but he definitely can't do art because the shitty comic quality isn't shitty on accident. but he consults with his siblings and he thinks about it hard and he makes a decision.

and god, it was easier to be excited about that decision before memories and past lives and powers came into play, but it's still kind of cool. dirk hated college but dave likes the idea of it. he likes the routine normality that it seems to suggest, the way he feels kind of grown up and like a half-competent adult when he packs up his shit and heads off to university. it's still in the city so it's not like he's really gone, but it's enough of a distance to allow him to pretend.

these days, somewhat to his surprise, dave wants to pretend. rose doesn't remember a thing about anything going on and his parents probably never will, and it's strange and too much like playing pretend every day to live there. he can't tell them about anything. he can't even tell roxy, because he doesn't want to mention most of the things he knows to anyone. even the tiny things are seeming more and more dangerous, because then it's just a chain of memories, all the way down the line, and eventually they'll all remember the shit he doesn't say, but -

but. well. he can, for now, pretend to be an ordinary kid at college. he has a schedule? he has a mini fridge. he has a room, and he's carefully pinned up a few posters and sorted all his things. he's mindlessly listening to music with his earbuds in when the door opens, and he tracks the movement even behind his shades and sits up. ]

Yo - [ he's absolutely never met the guy who just waltzed into his (their) room but dave absolutely knows him. he reflexively reaches up to adjust his shades. okay. shit. that's john egbert - or...someone? maybe his name is different? but it's john, egderp, the dork who really likes mc...whatever and hates cake and who gave dave these shades, once upon a time, and he's here and really a real live person and ok dave maybe stop staring you're being weird.

shit he's in kindergarten again? how the fuck did you make someone your best friend back then. did you just go up and say "mine" and call dibs? does someone else have dibs???? can dave fight them for dibs -

STILL STARING, DAVE ]

Uh, [ internal screaming ] I'm Dave. Sup.

[ an attempt was made. i guess. ]

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[Okay. He just. Lets that happen because whatever, bye phone. He looks fairly nonplussed about this and instead uses his now free hand to brace himself as he leans back.]

No. [Whether the "no" is to deserving custody of his phone or brain teasers he doesn't specify at first.] I mean not really? Some of them make my head hurt but what does that have to do with breaking thirteen phones?

Absolutely fuckin' nothin', so maybe I should revise that to "do you want your existational crisis now, or with lunch?"

[ since like having it eventually is probably non-negotiable. ]

[...what.]

What? [Please help him.] I don't think I want either of those scenarios so pass. What are you talking about?

Pop quiz: what is a horse.

[ ...as long as he has john's phone he's going to be a nosy little shit and go through his photos actually dave what the fuck. ]

[An irritated noise. John's photos are of, recently, his trip across the country to get to the city, things in the city, a stupid selfie of him on campus probably right before coming into the dorm, and Seattle. There's maybe one photo of him and a girl with long dark hair and one of him and his Nanna but otherwise it's mostly just Things.]

What the fuck do you mean what is a horse? A horse is, like, a four-legged giant animal that people ride and oh my god. [Yeah. Yeah okay.]

You should have another cupcake, that might help the existational crisis.

[ or at least it will let john have another cupcake! win/win, right. dave stops snooping for a moment to watch the entire, you know, reaction of "OH MY GOD". ]

I could also ask you to think real hard about fruit, but I'm nice so I won't. Except technically I guess I just did? Oops.

[But he doesn't want another cupcake??? He wants to know why the fuck he's remembering horses and salamanders and like, he's still John Egbert, even if Dave says he wasn't really asking a thing he's probably going to do the thing even if it's ill-advised. He thinks about fruit almost fleetingly, and though he doesn't know what Dave's expecting what John ends up whispering is:]

Fruity Rumpus Asshole Factory. [That gODDAMN SHITTY BANNER. He doesn't remember much about the context, just that. It had fruit on it? And the fruit had faces? Just like the fruit here has faces and oh my god what is happening.]

[ dave. groans? ]

Don't remind me about that one, that was literally a trainwreck of a conversation?? [ SOMETIMES HE MANAGES TO FORGET ABOUT IT, AND THEN ]

What conversation? [He recalls the banner but not the conversation, doesn't remember the group chat, doesn't remember arguing about troll girls and their flushed feelings for him and this boy who was his best friend. He remembers nothing but the clear visuals and it's then he looks at Dave with a very bewildered sort of look.]

Who are you.

If I tell you, it'll set you off. [ remembering, he means. in response to "what conversation". maybe. it's never clear, because once he told rose about a conversation and she remembered something else entirely. before she forgot it all.

"who are you" is a harder question. these days, he isn't really certain himself. is he the kid who grew up in an apartment in houston with a guy wearing his brother's face? the one who didn't like to be touched because what he got was constant strifes and nothing good, up until some turning point that maybe involved the guy dying.

or is he the one who grew up here, surrounded by his family, never touching a sword until the age of seventeen when the dumb welsh thing found its way to him? ]

I'm...Dave Strider. [ knight of time. hero of rhyme. rose's brother, dirk's brother, john's best friend, but most of them don't even remember it from the flipside, or don't remember it to the degree dave does. it is a uniquely lonely experience to know so much more than everyone else but to still not know enough. to know enough to know this life is better for pretty much everyone, and holy shit how selfish is he to want back some of the things that were on the other side, too?

not the pain, which he gets all the time. but the small bright lights that grounded him. maybe they'd make things better on this side, too.

his fingers tap out a tune on his knees, a nervous tic he doesn't bother to conceal; his expression doesn't so much as twitch. ]

We were best friends once upon a time.

[He sits up slowly like he's afraid to set Dave off, calm and careful not to spook him even as he scoots back on his bed to give him another contemplative look.

Maybe this was too good to be true? Things were going too well. Like. Whatever happened was probably just...you know. Strange things. His brain being fucked up from a long day of travel, that's definitely right. It doesn't make sense to him to have this boy he's never met claiming they were best friends once, claiming things will set him off, staring at him like he's not sure John's even real.

And yet. There are things about him Dave seemed to instinctually know, something only a person who really did know him somehow could on first glance. A Dave that made sense.

'Hey no offense, but do you think I could talk to the real Dave for a second?'

That line. He said it to...no. That makes no sense and he frowns again in his confusion. This would be where if everything were easy and perfect he'd immediately remember that this was someone he met when they were probably like eleven years old and were internet friends. He would remember TG, TT, and GG and how they would chat and screw around and that they were his best friends, people he would do anything for, people he fought for and loved harder than most. They were his best friends and now Dave's claiming the same and John doesn't remember any of it.]

...okay, Dave. [His tone is measured and calm, again, not sure how to immediately react. But then again, he doesn't outright call him crazy either. He follows this rabbit hole instead.] What makes you say that?

[ dave's lips twist in a wry smile and it's more present than any of the other ones but lacking any actual joy. ]

I shouldn't've said that part. [ obviously. but okay, what made him say that? beyond the fact it was true, there's a lot he can't say. he's not going to tell john about standing on lohac watching the fireflies in the sky. he doesn't want to bring up anything that leads to death and pain and trauma, because holy shit no one needs or wants that. if he leaves it well enough alone, maybe everyone can just...avoid those parts.

it is physically difficult to reach up and make himself remove his shades - his eyes are an impossible red but that's not the point - carefully folding ben stiller's stupid glasses up neatly and then holding them out between the two of them like some kind of peace offering. ]

Don't break 'em. They're not like your phones, they're irreplaceable. I got 'em for my thirteenth birthday, and the person who gave 'em to me told me I should get out from beneath my bro's shadow. And that I might actually be as cool as I thought I was.

[ seriously don't break them though. ]

[It's the "once upon a time" that gets him because. That's implying there were other times? That makes no sense. He knows his name is John Egbert and he's grown up in Washington his whole life. His dad raised him with his Nanna for a long time before his dad left and never came back. He likes movies, jokes, and he can play the piano and guitar. He has never met a boy named Dave Strider and yet he also can't bring himself to say that Dave's out of his mind or anything.

It's crazy. The whole situation's very crazy and unreal like some really shitty sci-fi movie and he feels so many things prickling at the base of his skull and he doesn't want to acknowledge them. Acknowledging them isn't going to help now.

Still. He tracks Dave's movements and there go the shades and--]

Whoa. [Egbert you fucking idiot, don't say anything! Whatever's going on is already, clearly, complicated. (Why does Dave have blood red eyes, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck.) However a hand comes up and he takes the glasses in the most delicate manner possible, holding them and looking at them.]

And...that person was me. Or a different me? I'm sorry, this is confusing. [Still crazy, but he's listening.] I'm going to ask some questions, I think, even if the answer isn't good. I don't care if you shouldn't've said it, how do you know that's true?

[ a shrug, like the answer isn't actually important, because without the shades his defenses are a poker face sans the sunglasses and a very carefully even tone, like he isn't aware this could shatter. ]

Honestly? You'll find people on different sides of the debate. A few people - usually newer, but some older ones, too - think it's all, like, elaborate brainwashing. Which, sure, a total possibility. Other people think it's just hallucinations, which I think is kinda in the same category as brainwashing. Others think the memories - hallucinomemories, flashbacks, whatever term you wanna use - come from a past life. Personally, I go with my gut.

[ he's talked about it with dirk multiple times. the last time, dirk had said it was a past life. gut instinct. ]

It probably helps that I remember so fuckin' much of it, though. [ blandly, like that isn't a big deal, either. ]

[So this is someone who's remembering too much. Is reincarnation really a real thing that can happen? Flashbacks and alternate lives and loops and memories of conversations and things of the past.

It sounds...strangely familiar, but not enough to grasp. Not yet. Not now. He fiddles with the shades, careful not to even smudge them as he mulls on that.]

Okay. [Okay.] How long has this been happening to you? And how long have you known about me? [He'll come back to "why is this happening to me now" later.]

Edited (wtf) 2017-05-07 11:45 (UTC)

[ ok he could be a cagey asshole but since john is the one asking: ]

Since February. For the first part. The first time I saw you in a memory was actually that month, too, but I didn't know your name 'till March.

[ and it's like august or september or wtfever now ]

And your eyes have always been that color and that's why I gave you these? [...tact, Egbert. There's a wince once he realizes what he's said.] I mean that doesn't matter. March was, like, almost six months ago. I didn't even know I would be coming here six months ago.

[...nopenopenope don't ask, don't ask, don't--] What else have you seen, Dave?

No. I mean, they haven't been here, they used to be hazel. They were before, but that's not why you gave 'em to me, I never fuckin' cared about the color. [ that's whatever. it's weird but it's what he expects to see now. taking the shades off is less about the weird color and more about...removing defenses.

he'd worn long sleeves and pants all the time, back then. and shades. armor, for the knight who never wanted to be one. what else has he seen? too much of his own life, and too much of other people's. bro is still a forbidden subject, and he never knows how to feel about breaking down and telling dirk. regret? relief? it varies wildly between the two. ]

I've seen...a lot, I guess. Pretty sure I'm still reignin' king of most memories for everyone from the same before as us. I don't really, uh, update everyone on them anymore, it'd take up all my time and I'm not Maid of it, so. D'you mean about you in particular, though?

Oh. [Again, it doesn't matter. It was mostly because he was trying to understand with this giant bomb in his lap. He isn't sure if he should still be holding the shades or not. They're Dave's and John gave them to him but he kept them on for a reason but now he has them because Dave them back and ahhhhhh.

Okay. One thing at a time.]

So there's a lot of us here from the same before. [Is that correct to deduce? He's unsure, but he's pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around his shins, leaning his chin on his knee.] That is what I mean, but whatever you think I should know, maybe. I still don't understand what is happening or why this is happening, but maybe hearing that will make sense.

Uh. Kinda. I mean - my bro, my eldest sister, a guy I don't really like, one of my childhood best friends, the dude my bro likes, and a pretty cool middle schooler. Fuck, I guess she's a high schooler now. So seven. Eight with you.

[ he counts them off on his fingers, though he doesn't...say any names...? dave, why. ]

We need like a welcome guide but basically that app on your phone? Like. A few hundred people have it. Only people with it notice shit like the horses, and they get back...memories, physical changes, powers, whatever. I'm pretty sure groups of people are from different "befores" but don't quote me on that bullshit in case I'm egregiously wrong.

[ he's not sure what other warnings to give, really? he still knows fuck all, he feels like. ]

You were a cool dude. I mean, from talkin' to you now, I'm pretty sure that's still super true even if there are differences. [ like the pastry thing. ] Terrible taste in movies, but still probably one of my top favorite people in the universe. [ "because i love him" "i know" why is dave strider an embarrassing mess of a friend. ] Like, just awful taste in movies? Con Air is not an acceptable movie, Egbert, but there was somethin' almost admirable about all those defenses of it I remember sittin' through.

[He's doing his best to try and pull memories out, associate names with people and it's not entirely clicking as it continues to miss its mark. He looks at the phone again, staring at the offensive app before he clicks the button at the top to plunge the phone into darkness again.

Hearing all of this is overwhelming if he's honest, and yet at the same time he can sort of accept this? Well okay no it's still bugshit bananas and he's not sure how to cope with a past him and a past Dave and knowing they were friends and hearing that Dave thought he was cool and knowing he apparently felt the same? It's a lot and he's confused but he also knows that if what Dave's saying is true it's going to keep happening.

All of this circulates in his head, but instead what he says is:]

We're still getting matching filthy wifebeaters, jackass. Even if that movie is pretty terrible. [In this life, anyway. The words are quiet and he's just going to stare at his knees instead. He's juggling fragments that make zero sense in context but are sliding into place somewhat with this explanation.] So an app is making all of this happen to us. But I don't know if I'm the same me you knew before or if there are other mes and yous out there and this sounds stupid. Right? The whole thing is stupid.

[ okay, that's a specific, and it gets a startled noise out of dave that doesn't quite make it into becoming words. he definitely remembers remarks about the stupid filthy wifebeaters thing. didn't he write a letter once? something about larping con air or something stupid.

john's this naive pinocchio guy who tumbled ass backwards off the turnip truck and - ]

Ghostbusters. [ right, another terrible film he remembers john-from-before being into. it doesn't really matter if he is now or not, or maybe it does, and dave's first instinct even prior to memories was not the most comforting when it came to comforting people. he's not sure if he should reach out or not, particularly since john has only known him for less than an hour.

he keeps trying to not think about that part too hard because it hurts even though he's grateful john egbert exists. ]

You're whoever you are, dude. I don't think it actually matters if you like Con Air or hate baked goods or if it's the other way around. If you go on shopping trips for nosehair trimmers and ask me to help plan your demise or if you never use your damn phone to text people really. If you're a suicidally heroic idiot or a film student.

[ like, it matters, but - ]

You're still a person I want to know. [ he doubts that's, like, useful at this juncture? so it's said rather hesitantly. ] Whether it's stupid or not. You had a pretty happy life up 'till some ridiculous bullshit, so I don't think it'll be that bad for you. Like, uh, rememberin'. If that helps to know.

[Yeah that's how he felt, too. He remembers fragments of a letter but not the full thing or the present, he doesn't remember hours of conversations and it's sort of frustrating. He wants to understand, and there's a wry smile at his lap and his hands instead of directly at Dave. The cascading effect has started on its own, it seems.]

Little Monsters. [Since they're naming shitty films past!him liked. Or likes? He's not clear on that part and though he hears and appreciates what Dave's saying he has to wonder.]

Why would I go shopping for nosehair trimm--you know what, never mind. [He finally looks up, and he offers the glasses back. He believes him, mostly. For once, he's grateful he had enough forethought not to say "what about you?" Since. That implication is kind of there even if he can't glean anything from it.] ...we have a whole year to get to know each other. But whatever's going on with this app and whatever you're remembering and whatever I think I might remember could just speed up that process. There's no way around this?

[ dave takes the glasses automatically, but. scowls at john for "little monsters". ]

...You complete asshole, you ruined my aj? "What about Howie Mandel" what about I kick your ass. [ THAT, OF COURSE, HE REMEMBER CRYSTAL CLEAR. @ JOHN EGBERT: HOW DARE YOU RUIN THE IDEA OF UNTOUCHED AJ FOUND IN THE CLOSET? dave unfolds the shades and shoves them on his nose, and that lets him relax, a little, because he's used to the shield. ] The only way out is to randomly get booted from the app and forget everything you remembered. That's what happened to Rose, months ago.

[There's an apologetic smirk because yeah, he remembers that now, too.] Sorry that thirteen-year-old me thought that was the funniest thing in the world. [Not that sorry though seeing how he's still smirking about it.

This time he notices. He doesn't know what to make of it, but he notices Dave relaxing a bit and it helps.]

Ugh. That sounds even more annoying than remembering all of this stuff in the first place. [With this in mind, the name "Rose" means something with a little more context now.] Dirk and Roxy are still on the app though? What do you think happened to Rose?

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