[Accidental Video --> Text] Back-dated to 5-ish this afternoon

[crowsicle]

[The feed clicks on to an aerial view of Siren's Port, just above the rooftops. The camera lingers only briefly on any sight before panning abruptly to something else without giving the viewer time to focus. It dips suddenly and a rooftop rushes up towards the screen, but there's a great flapping noise and the view slows to a stop about five feet above the roof.

Something orange can be seen near the bottom of the screen, but then the view lifts again to scan the dull, cloudy sky. The view is blocked again suddenly by the same orange streaked with liquid yellow--a hand? The view is jostled, and someone lets out a terse, shaky breath.

Whoever it is then seems to notice that the video is recording.] What the fuck.

[The video feed ends. This text hits the network shortly afterwards:]

ok
i call party foul
not only did someone bust a keg open over their moms priceless shitstain of an oriental rug but looks like they dropped the whole universe down on our upward gaping faces
president obama himself revokes the frats party license because its such a goddamn national travesty
whose planet is this even
is it the land of fuck and you because this isnt my stop im turning this bus around
seriously
wtf
this place doesnt belong here
im basically a feathery teenage game guide at this point and i got nothing that accounts for some crapsack frozen city popping up out of nowhere
so what asshole jacked this shit into their garage sale gameshark
whoever it is press left a b start select right now or im gonna pull a hard reset on their zit encrusted face
fistways
what im asking i guess
since i had my hands full retconning the universe for anyone whos still got the internet connection to read this
is whose shit do i need to wreck for this inconsiderate fubar

ok
i call party foul
not only did someone bust a keg open over their moms priceless shitstain of an oriental rug but looks like they dropped the whole universe down on our upward gaping faces
president obama himself revokes the frats party license because its such a goddamn national travesty
whose planet is this even
is it the land of fuck and you because this isnt my stop im turning this bus around
seriously
wtf
this place doesnt belong here
im basically a feathery teenage game guide at this point and i got nothing that accounts for some crapsack frozen city popping up out of nowhere
so what asshole jacked this shit into their garage sale gameshark
whoever it is press left a b start select right now or im gonna pull a hard reset on their zit encrusted face
fistways
what im asking i guess
since i had my hands full retconning the universe for anyone whos still got the internet connection to read this
is whose shit do i need to wreck for this inconsiderate fubar

Comments

text. text is safer.

[crowsicle]

[There is no way. There is no fucking way. He was THERE and he SAW IT and WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK but that was his voice and that was how he spoke and it hadn't been half an hour since Davesprite went back to that platform to scrape his pendant out of his pooling blood.

God.

He can't.]

fuck

somewhat

[plushrumpus]

Yeah, fuck.

[It definitely sounds like he's outside now. And moving fast.]

So how bad is it.

[crowsicle]

god what the fuck
were
you alive
fucking shic

[Typo stuttering.]

[plushrumpus]

[Fuck.]

What do you think.

[crowsicle]

are you alive now

[plushrumpus]

[He actually snickers at that.]

Same question, lil' man.

[crowsicle]

[DON'T LAUGH AT HIM BRO GEEZ THAT WAS A LEGITIMATE QUESTION GIVEN HOMESTUCK]

starting to wonder because
you know
i suddeply understand jack shit

whoops forgot to label this; ACTION

[plushrumpus]

[Oh hey, guess who's poofing up on the roof, all wrapped up in his leather Matrix jacket and everything, gazing across at Davesprite and holy jesus fuck his wing

... that fucker.]

Don't we all.

OH MAN SHIT JUST GOT REEEAAALLL

[crowsicle]

[Davesprite sees him and freezes. He doesn't even swallow and breathing is suddenly a thing that happens to other people because he is staring right across at someone he'd seen bleeding out on an alien planet with his own sword sheathed in his fucking corpse like some hideous Arthurian nightmare.

Davesprite wanted to help. He wanted to go down back to back with his bro like bros did, fighting the impossible fight and being fucking cool and

Bro died

And he didn't.

Davesprite turns fully to face him and take him in because the reality of this is slapping him in the face but he just can't grasp it, he can't even find the fucking handle to fly off of. He covers the wound in his stomach like it's incriminating evidence: proof that he just couldn't do what needed to be done.]

...

...Hey.

>8OOOO

[plushrumpus]

[what even happened back there—christ he really mauled you, was that wound fatal—I thought I told you to fucking run—why couldn't he just leave you alone you're still just a kid—fuck fuck fuck FUCK]

... you look like shit.

8||||

[crowsicle]

[His feathers rise a little--hearing Bro's voice while seeing him right there, watching him talk--it's like little icy shards in his heart are crystallizing out of solution into the realization that this is real. But he can't move yet. If he moves it'll all collapse and Bro will be dead again.

What the hell is that look on Bro's not-dead face.]

Not--[He has to stop, swallow hard.] Not all of us got your fucking magical powers of recovery. Apparently.

[Oh, god, now he can't stop thinking that maybe he was wrong and Bro was alive when he left him and he'd just left him there in that puddle of blood after closing his dead staring eyes shit christ motherfuCK]

[plushrumpus]

Yeah, turns out that came with the whole revival package. Sure, the evidence is still there, but it's pretty legit.

[He starts making his way over, quietly starting to study the damage, and attempting to set aside the ugly, clenched feeling in the pit of his stomach. And failing.]

[crowsicle]

[Davesprite startles and slips back half an inch before checking himself and feeling guilty for the lapse. It's--It's just Bro. Even if he's still afraid it's a trick or he's hallucinating from blood loss (if that's a thing that can even happen to sprites), he can't show how strung-out and spooked and frayed he is right now.]

So you were dead.

[The confirmation...doesn't actually make him feel any better.]

[plushrumpus]

[Nor does hearing that question come from the other Strider's lips.]

Yeah.

[He doesn't like thinking about it.]

Guessing you didn't.

[crowsicle]

Yeah. Turned out my ferry ticket wasn't good. Didn't get my fare back, either.

[He looks down. His feathers ruffle and then fall again, like a bird trying to calm itself. Without a sword to hold or a pocket to hide in, his free hand clenches convulsively.]

...You're all cool now?

[plushrumpus]

Pretty much.

[Bro crosses his arms.]

So, you wanna check out this universal Canadian healthcare everyone keeps raving about, or you just gonna walk it off?

[crowsicle]

[He glances up at Bro momentarily--fuck, he's still there, he's still real--then down at himself. What was anyone going to do with a stab wound like that? Or the ripped off wing? Standard medical procedure probably doesn't apply here.

Also he doesn't want to leave Bro for a minute.]

Can it still count as walking it off if I don't have legs?

[plushrumpus]

[Dunno, the hospitals here are probably a little better equipped to deal with unusual injuries, given the unusual population they have to deal with.]

Sure.

[crowsicle]

[Bro, all he wants is to go home.]

I'mma do that, then.

[Gaze still trained somewhere on a level with Bro's sternum, he floats towards him slowly, still afraid it'll all vanish like a soap bubble.]

[plushrumpus]

Your call.

[Not like he can blame the kid. He'd probably do the same.]

... might as well head back, then. Sirens go off in an hour.

[crowsicle]

Okay. [He'll follow Bro. Just like he always has.] Sirens're for what, the monsters? ...You seen them yet?

[God. Dave said he'd been here for six months. How long has Bro been here? How long has he been not-dead?]

[plushrumpus]

Yeah. Shit's straight out of Silent Hill.

[And they're off, traversing the rooftops with flashstepping ease, yet he still keeps close to the boy, ever-watchful. He doubts Davesprite's about to keel over or anything, it's just the principle of the thing.]

[crowsicle]

[Davesprite lets the conversation drop. That was really all there was to say on the matter, and everything else on his mind is just--too fractured, too raw to shape words around.

He's keeping up, but there's a tight set to the line of his mouth and the missing wing is definitely messing with his balance. His grace is less than effortless. And he keeps glancing at Bro, as if every time he looks down Davesprite's sure he'll disappear.]

[plushrumpus]

[Well if Bro's speed is anything noticeably slower than normal, it's on purpose. He can't claim to know the first thing about sprites, but if a torn-off wing and stab wound straight through his middle isn't enough to have Davesprite bleeding out and writhing in pain, he figures that's a sign that they're of slightly tougher stuff. Not like he's just gonna leave it alone, but hey. If the kid just wants to go home, that's his choice.

Fortunately enough, home isn't all that far off, and they land on the roof of their apartment building before long.]

So I dunno if you got the memo, but can probably guess another you lives here too. He and Little Miss Licks-A-Lot from planet Fake-Sounding Alien Name have been shacked up here for a while. [Bro unlocks the roof door, opening it and glancing back at Davesprite.] No hard feelings on that, I hope.

[crowsicle]

Yeah, they pestered me already. We're cool. [He shrugs.] Dunno when they got so chummy, but he knows what he's doing.

[If he's relieved to be done roof-hopping, he at least has enough cool left to try not to show it. Man, he is not in shape for any more adventuring, not for a while. He drifts after Bro, skin still prickling from the sensation that this couldn't be real.]

...Dave said it's been months.