I took way longer than expected writing this chapter. First it started with a fiasco involving a frayed charging cord, so I had no proper way to actually type out anything decent. And then came what I'll call The Realization. I was just sitting, minding my own business, and then my brain was all like, "yo, nd, whatcha even gonna be doin with dat fic a yours?" and I was like "no idea, brain." And then my brain was all like, "well i seeya got da mayor all up in dat business, and a bunch of other peeps, but ya forgot about lil hal and davesprite." and so I was like "OH WOW HOW COULD I FORGET TWO OUT OF MY THREE FAV CHARACTERS." and then I had to come up with a way to put them in. AR was easy to plan for, but Orange Creamsicle was REALLY hard. But then my mind came up with an EXTREMELY BRILLIANT PLAN that may or may not include random science bullshit and a doggie-jade. I originally had no long-term plan for this story, but now I have it planned UP TO THE VERY LAST PAGE. Weeeeell, maybe not THAT much, but it's way more planned out than anything I've ever written, ever.
I hope you're happy. I'm not sure if I am or not.
-ND
PS- Wow I can't believe I actually made that author's note. I typed it out at about 5 in the morning after pulling a near all nighter. I would edit it, but am much too lazy. Or maybe just because I feel like you guys should be aware of my mild insanity as early on as possible.
PPS- Just as a heads up (I really should have put this in the first chapter, but whatever) there will probably be little to no romance in this story. Sorry if that disappoints anyone, but I feel like I really am not suitable to write about anything even slightly romantic due to me being an aromantic and having no idea how to relationship x.x. There will, however, be a bunch of angst (probably, or maybe it'll end up being a bunch of fake angst to serve as a pseudo-plot) and bromance fluff because Dave and the Mayor are just adorbs ^.^
PPPS- There is a LOT of swearing in this chapter. Just a warning. And there's a fairly sizeable one sided rap battle.
Mayor- Go... Oh wait...
What was that? You wanted to make the Mayor go do something, eh? Well, too bad for you, because you can't. At the moment, the Mayor is unconscious. Why, do you ask? I'm not going to tell you, that would be spoilers! No one likes spoilers. Unless you do. But if you want any spoilers for this, then too bad. No hints from the omniscient being just yet.
Narritive- Switch to the other guy.
The narrative is now following the actions of said other guy who will be important to the story. Not the blue-text human, you twat, the red one that we haven't met yet.
This unmet human's name is Dave Strider, as I'm supposing you guessed it would be.
At the moment, this Dave Strider can't stop thinking about how much the situation was fucking over his head he was literally drowning in situation and gog what the fuck was he supposed to do here oh god oh fuck.
Dave had just found a very familiar-looking fellow (familiar to us, not him) passed out next to the club from which he had just left work and the guy had a cat on his head and by God that's a lot of blood.
The guy (or kid would be a better term, he looked hardly even legal) had a hole in his fucking stomach and he was bleeding all over. Well, it was more of a really deep gash, but still. Dave quickly checked the pulse and the breath of the kid, really relieved when he found that the little dude was still alive. Wow, they must have a lot of blood.
Of course, the sensible thing would be to call for an ambulance, but Dave was a paranoid little bastard who hated hospitals, and plus the kid looked homeless, he had one of those hobo-thingies and a fucking trick-or-treat bucket with cans in it for fuck's sake. Dave doubted the kid had enough money for medical bills, and he sure as hell knew that he and his Bro didn't either, it's not like DJing brought in tons of money or anything, and and even though Bro's thing brought in quite a bit of money, Bro refused to lend any money unless either Dirk or Dave beats him in a strife, which had only happened once before. And his and Dirk's apartment was literally two buildings down (and, well, up a fuckload of stairs, but the elevator worked, so...) and Dirk was pretty good at patching up wounds, anyways.
We, you as readers and I as the storyteller, are very lucky that Dave Strider did not do the reasonable thing. If he did, that would be the end of that, and there would be no story for me to tell.
But instead of calling for an ambulence, Dave decided to bring the kid back to his apartment.
But first, he needed to stop the bleeding.
Dave was usually much better at this type of thing with a katana, but since carrying shity swords around was apparently "not good," all Dave had on him was a knife he kept hidden in his sock. Good enough.
The cat apparently hadn't gotten the "dude im trying to help your human here chill" memo, because almost instantly after Dave took the small weapon out, the kitty shot onto all fours, still on the guy's face, and hissed at Dave. The thing's fur was standing on end and hopy shit the things tail glows.
And that wasn't an exaggeration, either. It wasn't like street lights getting reflected off some shinny-ass patch of fur, the yellow tip of the cat's tail was a light source in itself.
"Woah, freaky firefly-kitty," Dave said in an attempt to keep his cool despite the fact he was under a metric buttload of pressure mixed with a hearty helping of mindfuckery, "calm your tits. Your bed is bleeding out, and I just gotta get some fabric."
Surprisingly, the devil-cat seemed to calm down after that, allowing Dave to make a sort of makeshift wrapping out of a sweatshirt sleeve. He almost was going to use the blanket-poncho thing, but figured it had some sentimental value or something. The shirt would have to do.
Dave bent down and pulled the kid upright, propping him up against the building behind him. As he did so, the cat, for some reason, climbed onto his shoulder.
Before actually picking the guy up and carrying him back to the apartment, Dave took out his phone and called someone who he really didn't want to call at that moment but he really had to if he wanted to give the little guy any sort of a chance.
The phone rang for a while before his intended callee, who was probably sleeping when he called, the lazy fuck, actually answered the phone.
"Sup, Dirk. I'm in a bit of a pickle."
-o-o-o-
In an amount of time that Dave really didn't think was nearly quick enough, he managed to carry the kid bridal-style to his apartment, the cat still on his shoulders, where Dirk was waiting with the first aid kit. Dave laid the kid's limp body on the futon, and his brother almost immediately went to work.
Dave really would have preferred to not get his twin bro involved in the fiasco, but fuck, the guy really needed stitches, and Dirk was like a God with the needle and thread, both on skin and plush (which Dave really didn't want to think about at the moment)
Dirk, as expected, was mother-hening over the kid, being as careful as, well, a mother hen. That guy was such a softie.
"Dave. What happened."
And just like that, the moment was gone. Dirk had apparently sewn the kid up in hardly any time at all and had placed an actual bandage on the wound. Now that it was stitched up, it was kinda apparent that he had overreacted just a bit. He hadn't been bleeding too bad, as the makeshift wrappings had hardly even been soaked by the blood yet.
"No idea."
"Who is this guy?"
"No idea."
"And why is there a cat on your shoulder?"
"Because the thing's either a demon or our new guest's guardian angel-cat. Or maybe both. Or neither. Shit, Dirk, it freaked out when I approached the guy, so I told it that I was just trying to help and then the cat just fucking climbed onto my shoulder."
Dirk let out a snort and muttered, "Of course that's the one you answer."
"Damn straight."
"Right. So, how about we quit worrying about whether or not that cat is a spawn of Satan and start worrying about the fact that there is a homeless kid unconscious on our futon instead of in a fucking hospital."
Dave shrugged, only to be meowed at by the cat for unsettling its perch, and replied, "Kid looked homeless, and I'm pretty sure that homeless dudes don't have swimming pools filled with cash for medical bills. It would probably be more like a Faygo bottle filled with pennies. And unless you've been keeping all the hard dough to yourself, or if you can somehow pull off the miracle of the century, a miracle so fucking gigantic that Jesus himself would come back to life just to give you a brofist, and beat Bro in a fight, we can't really afford all that fancy medical crap to save some guy we don't even knew when you are perfectly fine at medical work and can do it for free because you're a sucker for this kind of thing."
Dirk gave him a Strider Look. To anyone but another Strider, that look would be hardly any different than his normal expression, but Dave knew it was Dirk's "That's not all, isn't it" look. Dave shot his best "Yeah of course there is and we both know you know and it doesn't matter right now so just drop the fucking subject before I decapitate every headed object you have" look right back at him.
The subject was dropped.
Instead, Dirk pointed at the stick on Dave's back and asked, "What, did you bring the guy's stuff here, too?"
Dave nodded sharply and laid the hobo-stick thing and the pumpkin bucket on the ground.
"Let's see what this guy has on him."
TG: yo
TG: eb are you there
TG: who the hell are you even
TG: are you another hobo
TG: god please don't be another hobo
TG: wait but is the guy actually a hobo even
TG: why would a hobo have a phone eb
TG: eb answer me
TG: i dont know who this guy is
TG: who is he
TG: goddammit i should have the right to know at least the name of the dude whos unconscious on my futon
TG: oh
TG: wait
TG: dude's got a sash
TG: nope
TG: dudes not a hobo
TG: hes a mayor
TG: thats fucking amazing
TG: eb why didn't you tell me you were friends with the mayor
TG: common eb
TG: don't make me start rapping at you
TG: because that's never something you should make me do
TG: see this im spewing all these sick fires
TG: enough to turn your brain into a sacrificial pyre
TG: all those eldrich gods aint got shit on me
TG: got them all bowin down onto one knee
TG: wont even try to stand up cuz they all know
TG: my sicknasty beats are bounds n leaps over their broodfester throes
TT: Dave, stop rapping at EB.
TT: It's starting to get pathetic.
TG: dude i thought we both agreed that i would interrogate eb first
TG: it was going to be a super ironic good cop bad cop thing but with more sunglasses and rap battles
TT: Just think of it as me rescuing you from sinking into the pit of sincerity, because I think we both know that you didn't make up the plan "just for the ironies"
TG: woah woah woah
TG: back it up there
TG: beep beep beep
TG: just for your fyi
TG: it was all for the ironies
TG: its always for the ironies
TT: You assigned us code names.
TG: so what
TG: they were ironic code names
TT: ...
TT: Sometimes I wonder how it could be possible that we are the same exact age.
TG: uh dur we arent the same age dude
TG: im like a full minute older than you
TG: howd you even get into here anyways
TG: this is a private chat
TG: emphasis on private
TT: First of all, that's a lie, you have no idea which of us came out first.
TT: Secondly, If I can create an independent computer program based off my own brain I think I can hack into a simple chat client.
TT: It wasn't even that hard to do, really.
TG: you asshole
TG: you have intruded upon the sacred grounds that is the
TG: private
TG: chat
TG: and you will die by burning at the stake due to the disturbance of sacred ground
TG: that is how people who desecrate stuff are killed right
EB: ...
EB: wow
PPPPS- So, quick explanation: Dave doesn't know any of the trolls or other kids yet, Dirk and Dave are twins and split the rent on an apartment in Houston because Bro thinks that they should learn to fend for themselves instead of relying on him for everything even though he's pretty rich, and Dave doesn't like hospitals for a reason to be revealed later.
PPPPPS- I can't write for Dirk, apparently, and am hardly any better at Dave. It'll probably improve over time. Maybe.
PPPPPPS- Yup, my toe's broken x.x
