I haven't really felt like writing lately, but here's another chapter for those who actually like this story. I hope I'm not boring anybody. And... these alpha trolls. I just don't know what to do. Kankri... Kankri you are adorable but please shut up and quit insulting your friends. But even worse is that Dave/Terezi is canon. I mean, I think they make a great couple (their personalities mesh very well), and if any of my readers shipped it I'm happy for them... I just like TerKar (I don't even know what the hell the ships are called or how to properly combine names) matesprits better, and DaveKat kismesis. But I think canon-wise Kar still likes Ter so I doubt he wants anything to do with Dave (unless this is the fodder that fuels the black hatred) In short,my ships have sunk.
I do not own Homestuck. That belongs to Hussie. If I owned it, all of the ships would be canon and everyone would get along and not fight over them like every time Hussie updates.
Dave rubbed his eyes to wipe away the sleep as he casually meandered down the hallway. Walking in the dark while wearing sunglasses was bad enough; he didn't need the bleariness associated with waking up after a restless sleep. Used to navigating in the dark, however, he managed to find the kitchen without tripping or bumping into the walls. It was only marginally brighter in here thanks to the windows, but it was more than enough additional light for the Strider.
The refrigerator light was almost too bright as he opened the door. He quickly snatched the carton of orange juice and shut the door, shutting his eyes against the stinging sensation. When his eyes finally recovered he glared at the orange juice. On the meteor, Jade had to conjure up their food, and despite her skill with her power over Space, apple juice remained elusive.
He opened the container and sniffed tentatively. Gamzee hadn't been seen in quite some time, and subsequently the drinks usually didn't have slime or Faygo mixed into them. Still, every now and again Kanaya would flip out because the drinks had been tainted, signaling that Gamzee was indeed still present, if not accounted for. So it didn't hurt to be cautious when dealing with liquids. Not that he had ever stopped being cautious after Egbert pulled that monster-piss shit. Had that really been almost three years ago?
Dave nearly dropped the juice when he heard someone settle onto a stool at the granite island. Not that he showed it. Instead he turned around calmly, expecting to see the juggalo, but was instead met with a white gaze.
"Greetings, Mr. Strider," The Signless said, his quiet voice sounding almost loud in the silence of the night.
Dave nodded, knowing the troll could see him even in the dark. Trolls apparently had pretty awesome night vision. "You're early," he stated as he pulled up a seat across from the ghost. He took a swig out of the carton, not bothering with a glass when there was only a little bit left and he fully intended to finish it.
Dave caught a flash of white as the Signless smiled. His already upset stomach rebelled against the acidic juice. "The sun neither rises nor sets here. It was not my intention to catch you at this hour. But I am glad I did."
The human slouched a little lower. He could go back to bed without seeming too rude, since it was only three in the morning, but that would be like running away, and he had too much pride for that, even if the troll made him nervous. "Why's that?" he asked. He wondered if the guy had been creeping around and watching his descendant sleep.
"I was hoping to talk to you."
Dave was glad he hadn't tried to take another drink, or else he might have spat it out. Which would not have been cool. The spit-take was a low form of comedy, and he would never do it, not even for ironic purposes. "I thought you were here for Vantas?" it came out as more of a question than a statement.
Dave watched the troll nod. "I would like to be able to speak with Karkat, yes, but that does not mean I cannot desire to talk with you as well."
That set off several warning bells in the Knight's head. He was beginning to think, undignified or not, he should get out of there. And yet he stayed, forcing his expression to remain neutral. He knew what would come next. In order to try to get the conversation going, the Signless would ask what Dave was doing up at such a Gog-awful hour. Giving himself some time to prepare, he finished off the orange juice before replying, "About what?"
"About anything you like," the troll replied, throwing Dave for a loop. The ghost had clearly granted him a way out. The Signless didn't want Dave to discuss anything he was uncomfortable discussing. The Knight wasn't used to people making such a concession, especially when his behavior was highly suspicious.
His fingers squeezed the empty carton a little more tightly. It was his turn to say something. Normally not at a loss for words, Dave was surprised when he couldn't think of anything not related to the nightmare that had driven him to the kitchen in the first place. For a few moments his mind raced, trying to settle on a non-personal topic. The Signless waited patiently, showing no signs of irritation as Dave tried to gather his scattered thoughts.
Eventually, though, he managed to latch onto an idea. "Why are you so nice?"
If it wasn't even as uncool as a spit-take, Dave would have facepalmed. That was probably one of the worst things he could have said, short of bringing up his brother. As it stood, the only indication of his inner distress was a twitch of his eye behind his sunglasses.
The flash of teeth moved as the troll explained. "It is what I believe in, what I spent my life trying to encourage." His tone was low and soothing. It somehow managed to relax Dave and agitate him further.
"You spent your life being a perfect Mr. Nice-Guy?" Dave snorted, though he regretted it when the flash of the troll's smile disappeared. He shouldn't feel guilty. He was an expert in wiping the grins off of people's faces for one reason or another. Disappointment was nothing new.
"I lived my life trying to change the way the different blood castes viewed each other. My motivation was not always pure; being a mutant red-blood myself, I was subject to the worst of the discrimination, and had the most to gain from a social revolution. There was also a time when my faith in trollkind wavered. But I truly believed that there could be harmony and peace between my fellow trolls, a lifestyle that would benefit everyone from the rusts to the magentas. As you have seen and heard, I failed in my mission. No one is perfect, Mr. Strider."
Instead of bitterness or irritation, the ghost's voice was… seeking, Dave realized. Not seeking pity, but seeking to connect, to make Dave understand. But Dave didn't understand, not really, not after everything that had happened to him.
"Some are just less perfect than others," he responded. Bitterness laced his tone despite his attempts to remain calm.
There was a sigh, and then two large hands were surrounding Dave's. His body jerked at the sudden contact and he tried to pull away, but the Signless held on, firm and gentle. "No one is more or less perfect than anyone else. Some are weaker, others are less intelligent, and others still lack the vision to see where their true worth lies."
There wasn't enough air. Trying to get air past the knot in his throat wasn't working so well. This troll wasn't real. There was no way this was happening to Dave right now. Striders were not the subject of pity. They were supposed to be the object of admiration or ironic jealousy.
When he yanked his hands again the Signless let him go, doing nothing to stop Dave as he stumbled off of the stool and retreated back to his room abandoning both the troll and the juice carton. In his rush he nearly tripped a few times, but he managed to make it to his room without incident, softly closing the door behind him so as not to wake anyone.
Lying on his bed, the Knight tried to even out his breathing. He wanted to claw at his hands, the rest of his body, escape, be anywhere else but here. But he was trapped, a prisoner of his own body and the obligation to save the universe, existence, he didn't even know what.
It was too much.
He slipped his sunglasses off and carefully set them on his bedside table. There was still time to catch a little shut-eye before everyone else was up. Too bad he knew he wouldn't be able to fall asleep.
It really bothered him that he couldn't tell if he was relieved or disappointed to find the Signless was gone when he ventured out again.