Since I am new to this section of FF, I will offer confessions to help you all get to know me better in each chapter. For the first one, I am terrified of mosquito hawks. Yeah, those big ones that fly around and presumably eat mosquitos. I'm scared as hell of those things. They look like possessed, floppy little devils, flying at your face to consume your soul, and one day, they'll realize the reason they like eating mosquitos is because they taste like the blood of humans, and they'll come attack us all. So, yeah, I'm scared of those. And that ends this intro. ON WITH THE STORY!
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, or any songs used. But I like to think I do. If that counts.
The District Sleeps Alone Tonight
(The Postal Service)
[Smeared black ink... your palms are sweaty, and I'm barely listening to last demands. I'm staring at the asphalt wondering what's buried underneath.( Where I am. Where I am.) I'll wear my badge... a vinyl sticker with big block letters, adherent to my chest. That tells your new friends I am a visitor here...I am not permanent. And the only thing keeping me dry is…( Where I am. Where I am. Where I am.)]
YOU are a third person observer who happens to be looking into the small one bedroom, one bathroom apartment belonging to the lump under the covers. This lump is steadily breathing, allowing you to know it's asleep, or at least very relaxed. This makes you kind of a creeper, doesn't it? Shame on you. What will you do?
===BE THE LUMP.
YOU are now the LUMP. You are irritated by the sudden blip noise your computer makes, alerting you of a new message on your Pesterchum account. You are trying to fight the urge to go check it, because you know who it will be, and you always find yourself caught up in conversations with that person, and never get anything done. It occurs to you that you don't really have anything to do today, because you're off work, and your manager better keep his word that he won't call you in. When another blip goes off, you give up trying to fight the urge, and proceed to remove the covers from your person.
Whoa, holy fuck, you're not a lump. You're a very irritated looking young man with unruly black hair, horrible eyesight, and clothes much too big for you on. Your hair is currently a mess, partially because you just woke up, but also because it always looks that way. Your EYEGLASSES are on the bedside table, and you place them on the bridge of your nose so you can actually see. Your name is JOHN EGBERT, and you're about to gather enough energy to go check your damn computer. As soon as you look around your awesome digs.
Your walls are covered in movie poster memorabilia. You are Nicholas Cage's biggest fan, in a totally heterosexual way. His likeness is displayed all over the walls of your bedroom, and no, you don't think it's weird having his stare always on you, despite what others might have said on the subject. You aren't really into explaining why you like these movies, but you get asked more often than not. Another blip reminds you of why you're awake. Sighing, you make your way to the large PC in the corner. It's a bit of a dinosaur computer, but you like it, because it's all yours, and comic book peddlers can't be picky. Especially since you're also a full time student. The Pesterchum account is already on display, and sure enough, it's your best bro messaging you.
-turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 10:37—
TG: hey egderp
TG: john
TG: dude
TG: i have news so insane it will blow your lame ass posters off your walls
TG: for real wake up you sleep enough as it is
Laughing slightly, you type a reply, feigning anger.
EB: WHAT?
EB: i do NOT sleep that much. you never let me sleep.
EB: i hope you get buried in smuppet ass again.
TG: not cool man you know how messed up that experience made me
TG: i hope betty crocker marries nick cage
TG: and they make weird ass awful actor/chef babies after doing it all night long and send you pictures
EB: EWWWWWWW! okay, stop! what do you want?
TG: i have news for you
TG: i didn't tell you last night because it's a surprise but i'm on a plane right now headed your way
EB: wait, what? you're coming to washington? dude! i wish you had said something! why are you coming here?
TG: it's sweet as fuck really
TG: i got a gig at a huge nightclub there and figured it was worth the trip because they're paying me a shitload
TG: plus you're there so i can see you too you know be a cool bro and what not get you in the club for free
TG: you have an apartment downtown right
EB: you're only getting me in the club for free if i let you stay with me, right? such a noble knight you are, dave.
EB: what were you going to do if i said no?
TG: you wouldn't say no
TG: not to me
TG: i gotta turn my phone off now so stay awake for my call
TG: jesus you sleep too much
TG: later
-turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 10:48—
You stare at your screen in disbelief, even though turntechGodhead has now gone offline. Of course, you've long since known him by his real name, DAVE STRIDER, a completely awesome dude beyond compare, yo. Or so he tells you. You've been his online chum since you were both eleven years old, and you met in an embarrassing videogame forum. He was talking bad about your favorite game at the time, and you argued with him for about an hour before you gave up, because he started throwing mad rhymes at you. After that, he would occasionally pester you about other topics, obviously hoping to rile you up again. And then, after all of that, you would pester him back just to see what was up, because honestly, he was the coolest fucking guy you had ever met, even if you hadn't actually met him in person. But apparently, that was about to change.
You look around your apartment, which you keep clean, because you wouldn't want Nick Cage looking at your dwelling with disdain. Okay, so maybe his eyes constantly being on you does affect you more than you'd like to admit, but you keep it to yourself. As said, you live in Washington, about an hour north of Seattle. You lived with your father until you started school, because you wanted to experience life on your own, though you still visit your dad often. Truthfully, you've taken to living alone very well, and are thinking of getting a pet. Something cool to freak your dad out for all those years he tortured you with Betty Crocker's incessant cake mixes. You've forgotten how often you would walk around the house just to find another cake on the floor, next to a misplaced can of shaving cream. Since you got your own place, you've never once said the name of the Crocker witch, but Dave likes to throw it at you every now and then just to poke fun.
You know it's weird to have had an internet friend for so long, but you actually have a few of them, and have known them even longer than Dave. Your best gal pals ROSE LALONDE and JADE HARLEY had been in your acquaintance before you even joined that gaming forum. To your joy, Dave had become one of the group, and the four of you often had insanely long conversations together. Oddly, Dave has only kept in contact with you, but Rose and Jade never seemed to take it personally. In fact, they seem to understand his busy lifestyle more than you do, because you won't ever let him even think of forgetting you. You're selfish like that.
Now raises the question you've been dreading while staring dumbly at your own Pesterchum page. What will you do once Dave gets here? You're a bit of a geek, which you're more than certain he's aware of. You're a little pissed he didn't tell you ahead of time, but that's part of his ironic charm. While you fret over this, the observer gets a little bored, and leaves you to ponder.
Now, WHAT WILL YOU DO? ===BE THE OTHER GUY.
You don't know what that means. You've never been another guy. You're always been you, and you're a badass motherfucker if you do say so yourself. And you do.
Your name is DAVE STRIDER. You have a wide range of interests, most of them revolving around music, games, and internet comics. You're a self-made entrepreneurial genius, and have managed to use your turntables to pay your bills, and then some. As if that isn't enough, your highly sought after HELLA JEFF comics have put more scratch in your bank account than you know what to do with. Your odd sense of IRONY has made you somewhat of an enigma among your peers, and your only true friend lives in a different state than you. You can't even begin to grasp the irony of that situation. Like, the situation refuses to have you grasp it. Seriously, it's all over the place, being wicked sweet with that irony, and you're too much of a fucktrumpet to understand it. But that's a story best saved for another poorly drawn Hella Jeff comic. You always make sure to send those to your best bro, John Egbert.
And since you're such a made man, and you're so fucking cool that you don't even know how you're not freezing to death by this point, you've decided to go and visit your derpy friend you've had since you were eleven years old. This ranks up there with the craziest things you've ever done. You've never met this guy, but you decided to make this trip to see him. Yeah, you have a gig at the biggest nightclub in the state, and you're dragging John all the way to Seattle once you get there, but that's not why you decided on that city. It was all to see the Egg-man himself, but you'd never let him know that. After all this time, you decided to meet the lucky guy at the other end of your monitor. Your BRO hassled you for it a bit, but he hassles you a lot less since you moved out of his apartment. Between your entrepreneurial god-ness, and his totally wicked innovative…ness, the two of you have managed to build separate empires. His is built on his SMUPPETS more than his comics, but you dare not visit that site if you can help it. You were completely buried in them once, and it was a traumatizing experience Eg-jerk still likes to torment you about. You keep track of your brother's works, as he does with yours, but you never talk about it, because that would involve feelings and shit, and that's just not your thing. You think you talk less to your Bro than you do with John, but that's never bothered you. Egbert is much more needy. Almost like a pet. And you've been looking for a pet, now that you think about it. You might just keep him, if he's good.
You smirk at this thought before you can stop yourself. Lucky for you, behind your awesome aviator shades, a gift from your best bro, you can hide most of your expressions, but that's not the full reason you wear them. They look wicked sweet, all up there on your nose, just chillin' and shit. The shades are the only gift you've ever cherished, but you'd also never admit that. Egbert would probably have a goddamn field day.
You lean back in your seat, still waiting for the plane to take off. They told all the passengers to turn their phones off, but seem to be taking their sweet-ass time to take off. You wish you had brought your Mac with you, but you wanted to travel light, and your iPhone is more than enough. Plus, John has a computer. You can't help but wonder what kind of setup he has at home. It's probably some ridiculously huge dinosaur he loves more than anything else. He's like that. You know more about him than you thought you could know about a person, but it's time to see his grown-up goofy face in person. He had sent you a picture once, but it was with your birthday shades, and he was barely in it. You were able to make out his face while he was pointing to the poster of the movie that made the shades iconic, but he probably didn't even realize he was in it. He had never seen you in pictures, unless he kept up with your magazine articles about your amazing awesomeness, since you were all hot shit now with your ironic empire. A cool dude like you has no reason to be nervous about anything, so you chalk up those rad butterflies in your stomach to being little dance freaks or something. It's time to relax and think of all the dorky things Egbert probably does in person, since you have a list in your mind.
You always imagined him as the same little nerd in the photo, small and mousy with big, wide blue eyes. He had unruly black hair, thick rimmed glasses too big for his face, and an overbite. He looked like a poster child for the Harry Potter series, but it was another thing you liked about him. You had caught yourself asking for more recent pictures, but quickly deleted the messages before they were sent, since John would have probably taken it the wrong way. You can't help but wonder how he's changed in appearance since that picture was taken, and are admittedly very excited to see him in person. This is going to be a good trip, you decide.
Oh, and you still have that picture, but for sentimental purposes. Yeah.
[You seem so out of context in this gaudy apartment complex. A stranger with your door key, explaining that I am just visiting. And I am finally seeing why I was the one worth leaving. Why I was the one worth leaving. (Where I am. Where I am. Where I am.) The district sleeps alone tonight after the bars turn out their lights. And send the autos swerving into the loneliest evening. And I am finally seeing why I was the one worth leaving. Why I was the one worth leaving. Why I was the one worth leaving… Why I was the one worth leaving…]
-Sachi-sama began pestering readers at 17;22—
Sachi: Hello, new fandom! I'm very excited to make your acquaintance! I've been involved with Homestuck for a while now, but just got the urge to post a story. I'm a little obsessed with DaveJohn at the moment. They're just so cute together! And of course, I had a hard time deciding which POV to tell it from, so naturally, I chose both. I hope you all enjoy the story! Review for love! I respond to all reviews in every new chapter.
-Sachi-sama ceased pestering readers at 17:25-