Why update regular stories when you can distract yourself with mostly-written oneshots found within the depths of your documents?
So yeah I just kind of finished and polished this a lil' bit today. Woo for medievalstuck Davesol, am I right? No? Okay then.
Dave Strider looked up at the tower in front of him calmly.
As an important part of the police force to the Kingdom of Skaia, he was typically the one tasked with the dirtier jobs, while his brothers were sent off to command armies and build soldier robots and the like. But Dave honestly didn't mind. He preferred doing his stuff solo; he wasn't a natural leader like Bro or his friend John, nor was he a good follower, so being sent on independent missions like this was the perfect fit for him.
He regarded the towering stone block in front of him warily, sweeping his eyes across every crack and speck of dust clutching to the building, scanning the grass around it for anything out of the ordinary.
It looked perfectly stable, even with its intimidating curved structure; hardly any cracks or chipped parts could be found, and though there was an open slit for a window, he couldn't see anything inside the tower except pitch-colored blackness.
It was strange. Suspicious. He'd been sent out to investigate the tower on the basis of frightened travelers arriving in their kingdom, babbling of a demon that lived out in one of the denser forests, skirting the furthest outer ring of Skaia's reach. As the official police force, it had been up to someone within the law to go and drive whoever or whatever it was out in order to appease the frightened humans and guarantee safety to all in the land. However, though it was kept up fairly well, it didn't look like anyone lived here.
Oh well. As the investigator, he'd be forced to go inside and look around anyhow.
With a soft exhale, he unsheathed his sword, broken right before he was given the mission when his younger brother challenged him to a sparring match and then proceeded to give him no time to replace the shitty weapon.
Sometimes he really, truly hated his brothers. It was like they actually wanted him to fail a mission and die.
Even so, Dave had some practice fighting with broken blades, and so held it out in front of him like any regular, non-broken sword before moving towards the narrow wooden door of the tower. Of course, it was locked, but it wasn't hard to break apart the wooden boards and cut himself a nice hole into the door.
He ducked inside, glancing about himself at the dark room he found himself, noting the only light came from the hole he'd just made, and standing perfectly still as he waited for his eyes to adjust.
Dust motes floated lazily through the air, the stone walls and flooring capturing all the moisture in the air and causing the rock to look slick, the room itself permeated by a dank, moldy odor because of it. A rug riddled through with holes and mud splatters was dumped into a pile in the middle of the round room, dusty metal chests creating a rough circle around it. He tried to open one, even attempted whacking it with his sword, but he couldn't get any of them to reveal their innards, so he gave up and moved to what he thought resembled a stairwell.
And indeed, it was a stairwell; a curved, wall-hugging stairwell made out of the same damp, slippery stone as the rest of the building, with no railing or grips to hang on to whatsoever, forcing Strider to hug the wall so he didn't slip and fall off.
It was made worse because he couldn't see shit. The further up he went, the farther he traversed from his only light source, and it didn't take him long before he was plunged into total darkness.
Even so, he refused to take off his shades. They were both too ironic in the dark and too cool to ever even consider taking off. Striders weren't Striders without their shades. It's just how the world worked. End of story.
His legs began to ache the longer he climbed those stupid stairs, but he hadn't had any indication of doors since he began climbing up, even moving to trail his fingers over the cold rock walls, but alas, no door or entrance was yet felt and/or seen.
However, as a Strider, he wasn't about to give up. Striders always kept going, even when there was nothing to go on.
It was a good thing he decided to keep at it, too, because it was only a few minutes more before he reached the top of the winding stairs, his only sign of a door before him being the crack of light hovering on the ground. The only thing that gave him pause was the fact that this light was far from normal. This light alternated in its colors, so instead of being the expected, warm colors from a regular candle, it flashed from crimson to royal blue and back again, crackling loudly as it did, the smell of something burning creeping away from the room to tickle Dave's nose.
Oh, hell. He really hoped a dark, satanic magician didn't live here.
His grip tightened around his sword's handle, muscles tensing for the briefest second before he forced himself to relax again. Striders didn't do anxiety. He'd stay cool about this.
Dave inhaled softly, mentally preparing himself before tiptoeing up to the door and slowly, SLOWLY, turning the knob. The door opened with a soft click that made him wince, swinging open silently into a room lit only by the red and blue light coming from a cloaked figure further in to the room.
Whoever it was had their face hidden within the shadows inside their hood, the only skin revealed being the person's hands, lit up eerily with the strange, alternating lights encasing those slender, long fingers and bouncing around the room, moving the furniture and gently carrying books full of strange symbols through the air. There were no windows, but many a book, unbound stack of papers, and stone table full of foreign ingredients Dave thought he'd only ever seen in Jade's alchemy labs.
Carefully, he stepped inside, his footfalls so soft they made no sound; however, as soon as he was completely inside the room a burst of light flashed behind him, and then the door slammed shut, the click of the lock ringing ominously in his ears.
Shit.
"Who are you, what do you want, and why do you think I can help you?" the figure demanded without turning, continuing whatever it was he was doing, floating all of his furniture over and around his head as it was.
"My name is Dave Strider of Skaia's police force, and I'm here about the people's complaints of haunted forests and paths when trying to reach my kingdom. As one of the police, I'm required to guarantee the people's safety, even if they're only coming to my kingdom, and are not in it." What a mouthful. He always hated that they trained him to say everything. Like, really. That was all he knew about this case, except that this voodoo-y dude probably was the cause of the hauntings.
He really hoped this guy didn't like, kill a bunch of people and send their souls to haunt places. Dave didn't do the whole dead-people thing, and he didn't plan to ever start.
"And I care about thith why?" the guy lisped, his annoyance clear in his tone.
"Well, from all of this black magic shit I see going on, I can only assume you're the cause of everything. Meaning I kind of need you to stop."
"Why thould I?"
"Aren't you just full of questions, Mr. Voodoo. Look, you don't stop all of this trolling-people-with-your-awesome-powers stuff, I'm going to be forced to take you down." He flexed his fingers against his blade's hilt, preparing to make good on his word. He had the feeling this guy wasn't just going to stop because Dave told him to.
The magician slowly turned to face him, and when he did, Strider internally gasped. This guy was seriously screwed up. We are talking horns, discolored skin, and a mouthful of fangs. Yes, that's right. Freaking fangs that the human bet could easily tear straight through his preciously normal bones and grind him into dust. And the magician's eyes? There were no pupils, no irises, no whites. One eye was completely crimson, and the other completely blue, with matching tentacles of electricity crackling about his candy corn-colored horns and clawed fingers.
Most people would have screamed. Maybe even thrown up. But as a Strider, and as the best Strider, Dave didn't lose his expressionless mask, continuing to stare dead into the freak's eyes without so much as flinching. He had to say, he was rather impressed with his own ability to stay cool.
"What? Not going to thcream?" the guy questioned, raising a dark brow. "Motht humanth shriek like little girlth ath thoon ath they catch a glimpthe."
"I'm not most humans."
"Tho I thee."
For a second, they stood like that, neither moving as they seized each other up, eyes trailing from head (or horns) to toes and back again. Assessing. Readying themselves.
When it began, it began so suddenly that Dave feels dizzy just thinking about it. One second they were still squaring up, and the next, he felt a burst of energy knock him back into the door hard enough to send the wood splintering around him, and he was still flying back, scraping his knees across the top stair. He tried to catch himself, raking his fingers along the floor and walls behind him, but all that managed to do was tear the skin of his hands into raw, bloody messes of pain.
He kept going, and now he was beginning to panic. The stone material of the stairs disappeared, and now he was hovering in dark air, nothing but space below him, though he was sure if the whole tower was lit, he'd see the hard floor a couple stories below him. He wondered if he fell right then if it would be long enough to kill him.
He decided he'd really rather not know.
"I thought you were thuppothed to be taking me down, Thrider?" the magician asked with a smirk, holding a red-and-blue encased hand up, letting his odd magic crackle across the other's body to let him know why he wasn't falling.
"Well excuse me if someone decided to cheat. Honestly, I'm disappointed in you, Mr. Voodoo."
"Thmartath," the guy growled, a sound so low and animalistic it only further made the point that what this mysterious male was, it wasn't human.
At least Dave had somehow still managed to keep a hold on his sword. He grasped it so tightly in his hand, he could feel his bleeding fingers smear his fluid across its leather grip, turning it slippery and warm against his flesh.
He watched as the other began to slowly and dramatically close his fist, the closer his finger curled, the less energy Strider felt holding him aloft in the air. It was obvious to him that this one seriously meant to kill him, and he'd be very well damned if he didn't plan to bring someone down with him.
As soon as the last finger was curled and the electricity released him, Dave used the flat of his blade to reach behind the guy and force him forward, off the top of the stairwell and into the air with him.
"Shit!" came the horrified shout, but he wasn't quite done yet.
They were both barreling down together now, the air wiping at their clothes and ripping at their hair, dank and cold as it was, and using all of his strength, Dave fought the currents violently pulling and tugging against him, wrapping his arms around the magician, legs following suit, so he was clinging to the other's body while the not-human thrashed and yelled, trying to get the human to let him go.
But it didn't work, Strider wouldn't release the other, and he felt the resignation almost as if it was his own when the other gave in.
Electricity crackled across the magician's body, buzzing where it touched Dave's skin, an involuntary shudder dancing down his spine as they began to slow through the air, before stopping entirely, the sound of shoes touching down to stone the human's cue to jump off and prepare to have his ass kicked by magical powers.
Only, when he did just that, fumbling for his broke sword, arms covered in goose bumps and shades crooked on his face, he found that the magician wasn't readying himself for round two. In fact, the creep was just kind of staring at Strider like a kicked puppy, those strange powers of his dimly lighting the small area around them, illuminating the dude's face in an almost frightening glow.
". . . Are we going to go again, or are you going to continue staring at me like a baby whose candy was just stolen?" he asked after a long, awkward minute of silence.
"You thuck," the dude spat, before turning away from him and floating back up the stairwell, his lights following him and leaving Strider blinking at the newfound darkness. "What? Hey! Where are you going? We were in the middle of something, you know." When the other didn't so much as give him a second glance, he frowned. "Aw, come on, Mr. Voodoo! You can't just leave me hanging like this. We're in this together now. Bound for life. This shit just got matrimonial."
The other finally paused, the electricity crackling around him like crazy. The human prepared himself for a fight again, thinking he'd ticked the other off, but instead of looking angry when he turned around, the magician only looked interested and slightly amused. "You thure you want that, Thrider?"
Dave raised an eyebrow. Was this guy trying to call him out on what he just said? Oh, now it was on. "You know it."
"Good. We'll make perfectly good enemieth, I'm thure." And with that, the dude just floated away.
It was then that he remembered he didn't even get Mr. Voodoo's name. Oh, well. Looks like he'll just have to stick with the new nickname, then.
Mr. Voodoo seemed pleased to see Dave the next day, especially when they had an epic battle of sword versus magic. He seemed equally happy the next day. And the next day. And the next. Soon it became an everyday thing, and when Strider's partners on the force asked him where he was going, he'd just say, "Taking care of the forest ghosts. What else?" They tried to pick on him for it, but as a Strider, most of their teasing fell flat against his own witty comebacks. He was the wittiest of them all. It was him.
The only problem was that his new sparring partner was a little weird about touch.
Dave learned this the hard way when one day, when the magician knocked away his sword with his magic ("They're called pthionicth," Mr. Voodoo hissed,) Dave decided to improvise and proceeded to tackle his rival to the ground.
The not-human was taller than him, but not as muscular, so Strider was actually able to pull it off quite well. The element of surprise probably helped, but you know. It wasn't like he needed it or anything.
"Wha—what—" the magician sputtered, electricity crackling loudly in Dave's ears.
"Got'cha," the human smirked, feeling pretty good to have finally knocked the freak down. He had been beginning to fear it would be as impossible to win against his newfound rival as it was to win against Bro, but he'd never knocked Bro down once. At least he knew he could get this guy on the floor, if not often.
However, such thoughts were blown from his mind when Mr. Voodoo suddenly screamed, "GET OFF ME!" and threw the human from him with such force he crashed into the opposite wall, his head knocking back against the stone hard enough that stars flashed behind his eyes, and he crumbled to his knees, the world around him swaying dizzily for a few blinks.
"Dude, what the hell?" Dave demanded, struggling to sit up, back leaning against the wall for support.
"Don't . . . don't touch me. I don't want to be touched. Just . . . don't." It was as much of a hiss as it was a whimper, and so he decided it was probably best not to try tackling the magician again.
Unfortunately, his rival ended up giving the human a concussion so bad that he actually fainted at that point, but he thought it was pretty obvious that he wasn't going to be making any move to touch the not-human any time soon. Even if it was kind of funny watching his self-proclaimed nemesis clean and patch up his wounds.
"You can't touch me again, okay?" Mr. Voodoo whispered as he dabbed an alcohol-soaked cloth against the back of Dave's head.
"Yeah, yeah, I get it," he grumbled, growling when the alcohol made his wound sting.
He thought he felt claws run through his hair, but he wasn't entirely sure. "Thorry for giving you a concuthion. I gueth I didn't realithe how fragile humanth were."
The knight snorted. "You sure about that? Because at the time, I was pretty sure you were trying to kill me on purpose."
Did he see the magician cringe out of the corner of his eye? No, no surely not. They'd been at each other's throats from day one. This was their understanding. "I probably thould have. Would have thaved me a lot of trouble."
"Aw, you know you would have missed my irresistible Strider charm."
This time it was Mr. Voodoo who snorted. "Yeah right! The only thing I'd mith would be kicking your lily-white ath."
"Big talk from someone who cheats with magic."
"Hey, a kid'th got to uthe all of hith rethourtheth, you know?"
There was a minute of comfortable silence between the two as the magician finished cleaning his rival's wound and began wrapping his head in bandage, being careful not to further injure the human with his claws.
"Question," Dave announced.
"Anthwer."
"If you aren't human, than what are you?"
The not-human shrugged half-heartedly, eyes trained on the roll of bandages in his skinny hands. "We're mothtly called trollth, but we have a couple different nameth."
"So, there's more of you? Like a lot more?"
The magician grinned at his companion's obvious unease, amusement and mirth dancing in his odd eyes. "Oh yeah. There'th tonth of uth everywhere. We're a pretty tough thpecieth, not to mention nocturnal, tho we can live and thrive practically anywhere. Motht of uth don't like athothiating with humanth, though, tho your kind probably hathn't heard too much about uth. Or theen uth, for that matter."
"Do you all have magic powers?"
"Pithionicth, and no. That'th mothtly mutanth lowbloodth like me."
"Hmm. So you're a mutant lowblood troll. Good to know. Alright then, one last question."
"Go for it."
"What's your name?"
At this, Mr. Voodoo's grin widened to the point that Dave would bet money his cheeks were hurting. His giant fangs dug into his black lips, sending little beads of mustard-colored blood smearing across his teeth and mouth. "I'm not going to anthwer that quethtion."
"Aw, why not? You've been keeping me in the dark for like, two weeks. It's just a name."
He scowled down at the human for a minute, but one look at the irresistible Strider face and he caved. "Ugh, FINE. You can call me . . . Thollux."
"Thollux?"
"Thut up, you know what I mean."
Dave smiled in his coolkid lopsided-kind of way, and though he didn't realize it right then, turning back to face forward so Sollux could finish wrapping him in bandages, he had just bonded with the troll like no one else had in a long, long time.
This was the start of something either beautiful or utterly tragic.
Okay, so he didn't mean to do it. Really, it was an accident.
He tried to visit the tower, honestly he did, after all he went every day, but his commanding officer told him no. Dave had to go on a new mission, a week long quest that involved him acting as bodyguard to a nobleman running an errand in a neighboring kingdom.
Usually Dave wouldn't mind, but his meetings with Sollux were daily. Both of them had gotten all too used to seeing each other every day, hanging out or sparring or bickering amongst one another, just the two of them in that stupid old tower. To suddenly have it all stop, without the middle Strider brother able to send his rival any kind of message to tell him he couldn't show for the next week, it was cruel. Brutal, almost.
It might not have been quite as bad, had Dave not come back to Skaia only to find the forest around Sollux's tower in ruins.
The entire forest was charred into blackened stumps, the grass burnt or dying from the suffocating amounts of ash burying its once lush greenness, the tower a mess of cracks and broken stones now. He had seen enough of his companion's psionics to know what the effects of their power looked like, and knew without a doubt that it was the troll who'd done all this.
"What in the heavens . . ." one of his partners gaped, face pale and eyes wide.
"I'm going to go investigate," Strider announced quickly, earning many a startled look from the small group of knights who'd been on the job with him. "Go tell the commanding officer I'll handle this, alright? I'll be back sometime later."
"Are you insane? Whatever did this will burn you alive!" the nobleman they had escorted cried.
Dave did his best to ignore him, "Go, quickly! Get out of here! And don't forget to give the commanding officer my message!" With that, he rode off, bumping his heels against his horse's sides to spur her on, leaning forward to help with speed. He had to find Sollux now, before the magician did any more damage. He was already going to be in a heap of trouble if someone found out that he was the one doing all of this; he didn't need the troll accidentally killing someone on top of everything else.
He could hear Sollux behind the tower, screaming curses as the sound of his strange magic rang louder than Strider had ever heard it. His troll companion must have been about to go in to magical overload or something from the terrible sounds of it.
With a nudge, he steered the horse around the cracking stone to find Sollux suspended in mid-air, still lisping swears as two bloated rays of light flooded from his eyes, destroying anything it was directed at. A few feet away glimmering and muddy in the dirt were the troll's red and blue glasses.
Dave wasn't sure what was going on or why, but he made a guess, jumped off his horse, which promptly whined and fled back to the forest, and he snatched the dirtied spectacles, turning to look at his floating rival, who seemed to be doing his best not to look at the human below him. So, the hard part of the most likely useless plan starts now, huh? Good. Striders were perfect at probably useless things.
He squared himself up to the troll, repositioned the glasses in his hands, scooted a bit closer to the suspended magician, and then threw the seeing devices at the other's face.
In his defense, they did hit their target—and in the eye, no less—but they didn't quite set on his face the way he'd hoped they would. Damn, would that have been cool. Or even beyond cool. It would have overshot "cool" and landed sweetly into "freezing" it would have been so beyond cool.
Oh well.
Sollux quickly pulled the lenses on, falling limply back to earth, though not before Dave could rush over and help soften his fall—with his body. Yup. Totally the plan the whole time.
At least he wasn't shooting magic from his eyes anymore, Dave noted as he looked the other over, tilting his head at an awkward angle, since he was, you know, laying under the magician. On the ground. And Sollux wasn't even moving to get off of him, despite the fact that he hated physical contact.
"Wher' deh hell 'ave you been?" Sollux slurred, glaring at the human through his colored lenses.
"Had a job," Strider grunted back, placing his hands on the troll's shoulders in an attempt to tell the other to get off. If Sollux got the message, he ignored it.
"You didn' think to—to tell me?"
"Didn't have the time. My commander told me I wasn't allowed to go anywhere beforehand and kept an eye on me until I was leaving just so I wouldn't go anywhere before my job was done. Sorry to hear you missed me so much," the last part was meant to be a tease, with Dave smirking up at Captor, but the other didn't seem to take it as nicely as Dave meant it.
"You athoe."
"Asshoe? Creative."
"That wath a dick move."
"Dude, I told you. I tried to go tell you bye, but—"
He didn't have time to finish before black lips covered his own, a clawed hand slapping over the back of his head to keep him there. Strider squirmed, trying unsuccessfully to pull away as Sollux worked his mouth, causing Dave to gasp in surprise when a fang cut into his lip. The troll took advantage of the moment to shove his-forked, apparently—tongue into the human's mouth, moaning filthily enough to make Dave imagine John and Jade blushing however-many-miles-away from the noise.
And just like that, Sollux shoved Dave into the ground and jumped off of him so fast the knight half wondered if he'd accidentally stabbed him.
"What." was all that escaped the human's mouth.
"Thit. Thorry, I don't—okay, tho I wath kind of—er, I'm a bit drunk, okay? Gog, jutht—jutht deal with it." It was obvious Sollux was embarrassed, but over which part of the past ten minutes, Dave wasn't sure. He felt as though he won the award for rescuing the fair maiden, only to find out the fair maiden was actually a dude. A magical troll dude.
Or was that even better? Certainly more usefu—no, no, bad Dave, that's not how you think of friends. Friends do not manipulate and use each other. No.
"Thay thomething, Thrider," Sollux was beginning to sound a bit nervous, so Dave took pity on him and sat up, running a hand through his newly-soiled hair.
"I told you once you wouldn't be able to resist the Strider charm."
"Thut the hell up."
And so all was fine once more. Or it was until Sollux told him he was drunk on honey of all things, because come on, who wouldn't take advantage of that information to tease their companion to the point of having the troll flip his shit and start throwing everything in sight? Certainly not Dave Strider.
The commander was not pleased to hear about the massive damage dealt to the forest, but he did seem rather impressed to hear that the youngest Strider was the one to stop the "beast" who terrorized the plant life. Terezi Pyrope, on the other hand, who acted as one of the advisors to the King and handled many of the legal affairs, was very blatantly skeptical.
"So you're telling me that some sort of animal killed thousands of trees and squashed a whole nomadic camp?" she questioned in her gritty voice, raising a dark brow.
"It was a pretty big creature," Dave lied, shrugging.
"You don't seem all that concerned or shocked."
"Does any Strider?"
It was his best and admittedly only defense at that point, but luckily, it was a pretty good one. Most of the guard was appeased, but Pyrope still didn't seem convinced. Dave decided it was probably best to lay low and stay out of her sight for the time being, but this meant he had to be more covert on his trips to Sollux's tower.
However, on one of the nights he attempted to sneak out of the walled kingdom of Skaia, he heard a familiar voice grumbling into the buzzing night air outside the walls, and when he creeped closer, he saw none other than Pyrope herself trekking through the trees, her white cane sweeping in front of her so she could walk without tripping over roots and stray plants.
She wasn't wearing her usual outfit—a skintight teal and red suit that hugged all of her nonexistent curves nicely, a fancy teal hat that symbolized her high position amongst the knights and soldiers, and some wicked boots that even Dave could appreciate—but was instead clothed in all black besides her glasses and cane, the hood of her cloak drawn up to the point that without the cane and voice, he wouldn't have recognized the woman as Terezi.
He wasn't sure what she was doing outside the kingdom in the middle of the night, dressed like a spy or thief and alone in the forest, but he decided it was best not to increase her suspicions by alerting her to his presence, so stayed where he was, crouching behind a tree.
Luckily, she didn't seem to be going in the direction of Mr. Voodoo's home, but Dave didn't want to risk leaving her out here only to accidentally stumble into her when he attempted returning back to town. So he followed her, making sure to stay silent, listening to her muttered complaints of the uneven forest floor. She never changed direction, never started wandering towards Captor's place, which made Dave feel a little more relieved, though it only increased his curiosity. Where was she going?
The answer came as they reached a break in the trees, revealing a roughly circular area that was more grass and rock than anything else, with a large, collapsed mound of boulders that might have once been a small shelter, reaching taller and wider than any person Strider had ever met, but not quite big enough to hide the dragon that hid behind it.
What.
It was the only comprehensible thing he was able to think as he took in the giant, snow-white reptile curling around the column of rocks, wings thick and sharp as it stretched them, nuzzling the side of its head into Terezi's, who giggled.
What.
As if to add to Dave's astonishment, the nuzzling dragon accidentally knocked Terezi's hat off, revealing a pair of twin candy-corn colored horns.
Holy shit. He needed to talk to Sollux. Like, now.
"Are you thure you thaw a dragon?"
"Positive."
"And the had hornth?"
"Yeah. Just like yours, but you know, less."
Sollux stared at him for a good minute or two before sighing and scrubbing his hands over his face. "I'm thorry thrider, but I'm pretty thure you're jutht theeing thingth."
"Excuse the hell out of you? I run all the way here just to deliver the news that you aren't the only troll in Skaia, and you decide not to believe me? When all I have is the noblest intentions? Captor, I thought we were passed the stage of petty lying to each other." Dave draped a hand over his heart in mock-hurt. "I thought we had something here, Mr. Voodoo."
"Are you ever going to thtop calling me that?" the troll asked with what Strider thought was an eye roll. It was hard to tell when each eye was the same color throughout the entire "ocular orb" as Sollux called them.
"Don't change the subject. We are talking about this thing where I tell you something and you decide not to believe me despite the fact that I've saved your ass twice now."
"Oh, have you?"
"I could have turned you in, Captor. I could have stabbed you right in your bony back and taken your head to Skaia's police force as my prize. I could have been rich off your head, dude. But did I do any of that? No, because I was under the impression that we were best bros. Apparently I was mistaken." Dave didn't lose his poker face once; a skill carefully honed and taught by Bro Strider, the most ironic of the Strider family. Bless his puppet-loving soul.
"Ugh. I'm not in the mood for your bullthit today, Dave."
"Please. Every mood is the mood for a Strider's bullshit."
Sollux turned away from him to glance back at the book propped open in his lap, sharp, spidery symbols of what Dave could only assume was the Troll Language sprawled across the yellowing pages. The troll sighed and shook his head, "Look, thorry, but I jutht have a hard time believing that one of your thuperiorth ith not only a troll, but ownth a pet dragon. I mean, theriously? You honethly ecthpect me to thay, 'Oh, no! We thould go vanquith the villian tho my thecret can remain thafe!'"
"Woah, slow down there. I never said anything about killing anyone."
Captor gave him a look. "Are you kidding? That'th what trollth do. Thomeone cometh clother, we kill each other to keep them off our territory. It'th juth how it workth."
"You better be joking with me, Thollux, because that's some seriously messed up shit coming out of your mouth."
"No jokes here, Thrider."
Dave shot him a critical look, more a raised eyebrow and a displeased twist of mouth than anything, due to his shades and his naturally unexpressive face. "Why? Wouldn't it be easier to, oh, I don't know, pair up or something? I mean, you'd have someone who could watch over your lightweight ass and keep your honey in check—"
"It'th called mind honey."
"—so you don't flip out like you did last time. Seems like it would be more helpful having another troll around." He finished it with a shrug, leaning his hip against Sollux's desk and crossing his arms over his chest. "Besides, your crib is trashed. It would be awesome to have someone around to pick up this dump."
Sollux glowered at him, a cloud of red and blue engulfing the clothes strewn across the stone floor and sending them flying into another room. It had the decency to close the door, at least.
"Cute, Captor. Real cute. And exactly my point."
"Well if it botherth you tho much, why don't you thtick around? It'th not like you do anything productive when you come over."
Fair point. However, Striders didn't clean. They made ironic quips, rapped like bosses, and beat the shit out of anyone who said otherwise. They were not housekeepers or maids, even if Dirk got off by dressing like one from time to time.
Don't ask; Dave was still mentally scarred.
"No way. Striders don't do domestic stuff."
Sollux had the nerve to look up at him and raise a black brow. "What? Too good to clean? Wouldn't that mean your hive lookth about the thame ath mine? Becauthe that would make you a hypocrite."
"Nah, I live in the barracks with the other good little soldiers of Skaia. Not much to clean there, except for the meat hall."
"You live in the what?"
"Barracks. Like, I don't know, an inn, but only for soldiers and free?"
Sollux looked at him like he suddenly grew another head. Right, because trolls don't live together, and so wouldn't have any cities, and so no army or soldiers. It only made sense he wouldn't know what barracks were, or the general concept of them. How long have trolls lived under rocks anyway?
"Never mind. It's kind of difficult to get unless you live in the city."
Sollux frowned, blatantly unhappy by that statement, but he didn't ask anything else. Instead he turned back to the book in his lap, clawed finger dancing lightly over the page. It was weird that he could look so deadly but be so gentle, even if he had to in order to not rip his precious tomb of knowledge. What was weirder was how Dave was quickly becoming used to such things, though he guessed it only made sense with as much time he spent with the Gemini as he did. Soon he'll be able to read Troll and steal the ever-hidden socks he knew were around here somewhere.
For some reason, that thought made the young knight feel restless, and with nothing else to say and Sollux ignoring his presence, he straightened and headed for the door, calling out a half-hearted goodbye as he exited the tower, figuring if Mr. Voodoo didn't want to heed his warning, then it was all on the troll when Terezi showed up.
Which she would. Eventually.
"Hey, Sol buddy, I've got a question."
"Don't call me that."
"Yeah, yeah, right. So, your alcohol-honey. I have a question about it."
"Okay?" Captor did not seem very eager to hear Dave's question, but he continued on anyways.
"So, I understand that it makes you high off your rocker and everything, and probably aggravates your creepy troll-magic, but—"
"Pthionicth!"
"Yeah, whatever. My point is, you seemed to kind of understand what was going on after you mouth-raped me, so I was wondering—"
"It wath a kith, athole!"
"Let me talk, would you? Jeez, I swear, it's like I can't even get a word in edgewise. My question is why you suddenly got your head back. Is it like some magic potion, like, the only cure is to be kissed by a sexy human male? Because that's the only thing I can make of it. Unless it was just already wearing off by then, and it was all a huge coincidence."
Sollux made a constipated, extremely unhappy face that twisted up his dark mouth and wrinkled his noses, a few fangs poking out between his lips. "Kind of? Look, thith ith going to thound thtupid, but I did thome rethearch after I . . .uh, yeah . . . and anyway, I think I found thome thtuff over it."
"Really?" Dave questioned, curious despite himself. He leaned his hip against the magician's desk, torso bent over so he could take a closer look at one of the books propped up on the troll's lap. Unfortunately, it was written in that weird Troll language, so he couldn't make heads or tails of anything on the entire two pages he could see. He really needed to make Sollux teach him Troll later. "What did it say?"
Captor cleared his throat, face a bit yellower than normal—blushing? Maybe? But why would he be? "Pretty much what you jutht thaid. Human thalivia can calm uth down when we conthume too much mind honey and the like."
Dave sat back, bracing his hands against the tabletop, and whistled. "Knew it. Strider kisses are the cure to it all."
"Yeah right," Mr. Voodoo rolled his eyes at him and closed his book, a cloud of blue pisionics spiriting the tome off into another room.
"Do I detect sarcasm, Captor?"
"Do you, Thrider? Do you?"
"I think you're asking me for a strife, bro. You really want to go there? We both know I'll hand your ass to you on a silver platter. Or maybe I'll make it special, order a sweetass blue and red platter just for you so your utter failure to beat me will match your eyes."
"Cute, Thrider. But all I hear ith talk without any action to back it up."
Dave hopped off the desk, turning to face the smirking magician standing up from his own seat, facing each other with matching excitement neither would ever admit to. "Oh, it's on now, Thollux. Get ready to get your alien pussy beat."
A few days later, the commander decided that it might be better to play it safe than sorry. With all due respect to Dave, they just couldn't sit back and allow another terrorizing assault to befall their hapless citizens traversing the forests and paths outside the great walls of Skaia.
He watched her closely, observing the tight tension in Terezi's shoulders and flat line of her mouth when the squad suggested searching through the closest surrounding land for any creatures that may harm the innocents. A dragon would probably count as a potential threat to others' health, so Terezi was probably internally freaking. Question was, should Dave offer help here, or should he sit back and watch so he, himself, didn't wind up with a hand chewed off by a mighty beast?
The longer the conversations and plans went, the more frustration became apparent in Pyrope's body language. No one else seemed to notice, absorbed as they were in plans, but Dave caught it. He could tell she was worried about her pet reptile.
He'd never been much of a hero, but he decided that just this once, he might be able to handle the title. So he suggested that he and Terezi head the search themselves, him so he could keep Sollux a permanent mystery, and Terezi to protect her dragon. The relief that worked over her when the commander and squad agreed made Dave just the smallest bit proud of himself for standing up like that, so he turned back to his free-style rap with a content little buzz in his chest.
Unfortunately, relieved though Pyrope most likely was, she was apparently incredibly suspicious of Strider's reasoning behind it. He didn't realize she had followed him to Captor's tower until it was too late.
"What the hell is this?" She squawked, stepping out from the tree line with a disbelieving expression.
Uh-oh. "Pyrope? What are you doing out here? Didn't your mother ever tell you not to go wandering alone after gorgeous young men into the wild side of the unknown?"
"No."
"Well, I'm telling you now. Go back to the Kingdom and forget you saw any of this."
Unfortunately, Terezi didn't even have time to deem your polite request with a response before Mr. Voodoo flew out the front door of the tower, encased in sparking blue and red power, eyes flashing and electricity crackling. "Thrider, I hope you're ready—who the hell is this?"
The two trolls both froze, eyes locked (or so Dave assumed. It was hard to tell as everyone was wearing some form of eyeglasses) and mouths slack open with shock. This would probably be Dave's only moment to explain himself, so he rushed his words, stumbling over his tongue in his hurry to speak. "Woah, woah, woah. I didn't bring her here, okay? She followed me of her own accord after I helped her out. Totally not my fault here. Sollux, do not harm the little lady troll. I repeat, do not harm the little lady troll. Terezi, do not attack the glowing cloud of voodoo powers. I repeat, do not—"
"Tho, you're the famouth advithor to the king," Sollux said, voice rising to overpower Strider's, face carefully blank.
"And I assume you would be the beast that destroyed a portion of forest some time ago?" Terezi inquired, raising a dark brow.
"That would be me."
"Hmm."
Dave glanced between the two of them, made a decision, and began strolling towards Terezi, announcing, "Okay, yeah, this was fun. Really. But I think Pyrope and I will just be going now, preferably right now, back to Skaia, away from any troll territories or the like—" He had just rested a hand on one of Terezi's shoulders when he was roughly yanked back by the collar of his shirt, tough leathery lips crashing on to his own with all the force of an explosion.
Sollux pulled back, sparks darting through the air like crazy, a low, loud buzzing filling the space around them.
"Dude, what—" Dave started, hand going up to touch his tingling mouth.
"Just stating my claim is all. Bye Dave, Advisor lady." Captor gave them both a nod of acknowledgement, shooting them a quick smirk before he was zooming back into his worn little tower, leaving the two of them standing awkwardly outside.
"I didn't realize you were such a lady's man," Terezi voiced, sounding surprised.
"What can I say? It's a gift."
After that incident, Pyrope was much more pleasant to be around, and as a bonus, she never followed Dave out of the Kingdom of Skaia again, though she kept asking him if he wanted to meet her pet dragon formerly. Yeah, no thanks. He really didn't feel like being used as dragon chow food.
Sollux, on the other hand, would be getting a face full of weapons.
Dave carted a sweet array of the different weapons he planned to use to beat the ever-loving mind honey out of the troll, every thought to make the magician bleed in his head. The floor would be so covered in yellow when Strider was done they would have to replace the flooring to get it all out. It would be so stained with Captor blood that anyone else who set their eyes on the tower floor would mistake it as gold instead of cracking stone.
Unfortunately, Sollux had different plans.
The troll was waiting on him when he finally lumbered into view, dropping the various tools of violence onto the grassy ground when he spotted his troll companion hovering through the air again, watching Dave curiously.
"Thollux," Dave said by way of greeting.
"Thrider."
"I hope you're ready to have your plush gray rump handed to you today."
"And if I'm not?"
"Then you better prepare yourself right now, because I will be delayed no longer. Like what the hell, Captor? What was that stunt you pulled yesterday? You can't just pop a kiss on a dude and say it's to 'claim' them. That shit is so outside of the cool book I'm surprised you aren't burning with your own immense lameness." Not Dave's finest, no, but it was a bit hard for him to think clearly at the moment with the dull, rhythmic throbs of irritation pulsing through his skull.
Instead of answering his rant with words, the magician mutely drifted over, shoulders hunched and arms all skinny and long, head bowed, and he brushed his lips across the top of Dave's head. Strider jerked back, mouth tightening into an unhappy line as he looked up at the troll above him.
"Stop, man. That's not what I came here to do."
"Well, I gueth there'th been a change of planth," Sollux answered casually, shrugging once before he dipped back in to brush his weird mouth across Dave's.
"I'm going to beat the hell out of you."
"Mm'kay."
"Seriously."
Captor responded with another, deeper kiss, lips moving sensually, hotly against the Strider's, clawed hands gently palming the human's lower back, guiding him closer. Dave grunted, swatting at the hand grumpily. "Hell no. That is not how you persuade a lady, Mr. Voodoo. Kiss me like you mean it."
So he did.