A.N:: Still trying to get into some sort of updating groove, with limited success ._. I know that in the general scheme of fanfiction I update rather frequently but these basically come out as quickly as the dark recesses of my mind are willing to produce, that it not a comforting statement. Well... anyway... part 6 xD I'm attempting to stick to the path of patron-centric chapters before I go more into my prompts but I received my first request last chapter and it frankly made me much happier than it should have. No you cannot know just what character smush is clawing its way up to OTP status in my mind _ I'm doing my best to beat it back but there is no escape. NONE


Title:: Crimson Curtain
Word Count:: 1,662
Warnings:: Swearing for the sake of character -n-
Summary:: Dave Strider is nothing if not one very cool dude. He is the epitome of chill and all its other functions and to maintain this he naturally has a rule or two to follow, now if only Terezi would quit pestering him about matters of utmost secrecy.

Dave's fingers closed around the cool metal of yet another cyndrilical can and he lifted it up to his face lazily. He then regarded it with his usual flat expression before his lips twitched into a slight scowl as he squinted behind his tinted lenses.

"Can we turn up the lights in here or something?" The Knight muttered as he struggled to make out the small, uniform text labeling this particular can. "The citizens of the all mighty Cantopia will not be forced to deal with shittily unorganized can structures flaring up their eye-sores."

An amused snicker met him in response with Terezi as the source. She continued to scribble on the otherwise bland concrete floor with her fluorescent chalk, not bothering to lookup for obvious reasons at his complaint. "Well I'm obviously not the best judge of sight conditions now, Mr. Cool. So what exactly has got your metaphorical feathery ass all ruffled?

Dave snorted before plunking the can down beside his crossed legs with a resounding 'thunk'. "Said feathery ass is perfectly pressed and ironed as always, I'm appalled that you'd say otherwise." At the rather unconvinced dead-pan he received in response he rolled his eyes behind his shades before continuing. "Can't read the fucking microscopic print on some of these hunks of tin, and I swear by my platonic hatred of all things associated with plush puppet probiscus that there will be well sorted architecture. Jeez I can't believe I have to even define my hate, quadrant implications or whatever are a bitch."

"That they are, Cool Kid," The Seer mused with a grin sharp as a razor's edge and flashing just as dangerously in the sparingly lit room. If possible the fluorescent bulbs lighting the space had spontaneously decided to begin trudging down death row with sputters of suffering in its wake. It was getting difficult to see anything not directly in front of one's face and the clatter of displaced cans as WV accidentally toppled a constructed tower was a clear testament to that fact.

This had become an idle pastime of the three so far when Dave wasn't off spelunking with the other humans and the Knight found it ironically amusing. When you had so many cans lying around housing gog knows what why not embark on an adventure of creation? The vibrant chalk at her disposal also seemed to partially sate Terezi's color cravings so the Libra was less prone to slopping her saliva all over his face, this was a sizeable bonus in itself.

However, the lack of light was quickly becoming a hindrance and Dave found himself growing disgruntled by the effort it took to decipher can labels in any way. He opened his mouth to let another train of metaphor ladened drawling pour fourth but Terezi interrupted with her usual snarky yet also curious tone.

"Why don't you just, I don't know, take off those shades you're so attached to? Heh, they're probably making it a bit difficult," She remarked seeming almost sly in the way that she looked up towards him over her candy red lenses.

"The golden rule of cool: Never, and I mean not even when the pseudo apocalypse is goin' down, does a cool guy lose the shades. It just doesn't happen, capeesh?"

"Heh, now how did I know you would say that? Mr. Cool is getting predictable," Terezi's voice was teasing now, taking on a sing-songy undertone that effectively grated his nerves and caused him to cross his arms over his chest. "Not, dare I say, self-conscious are we?"

"To hell with that. To the lake of fire and fucking brimstone in the sixth circle of hades with that. It is law, something I am unfortunately helpless to change even with all of my extensive and elaborate talents."

Terezi gave a non-plussed 'mhm' in reply and continued to scribble idly on the ground. She had effectively hung a silent challenge up for all to see and for all his cool guy suave the cane-wielding, psycho, alien chick just had a certain talent for getting his aforementioned metaphorical feathers in a twist. He supposed it made their time together more interesting to an extent, or at least that was one way to put it.

"I see I've left you struck speechless, glad you understand the golden principles of cool a bit better," He continued in a slow drawl as he too returned half-heartedly to his task of sorting through the nearby assortment of cans. Terezi snickered quietly and Dave fought the urge to simply snap at the sharp-tongued troll, however that would be decidedly uncool and make him seem like no more than a little ecto brat sparking a tantrum.

"What? No more actual words to be exchanged?" He settled with grumbling and inwardly winced when he realized that the last few lines had been pretty much him babbling to the open air with how unresponsive the Libra was being. Said viper of a girl was now flashing him a knowing grin, fully aware of the slick little lizard she had caught in her claws. He had strolled into that one like the new kid into questionable stairways at the local public school and was met with no less traumatic consequences.

"You. Have. A. Secret. Don't you, Dave?" Terezi enunciated each syllable in the phrase with precision which seemed like a minor enhancement compared to the fact that she had actually used his name. Damn this was getting a bit too heavy for his liking. "I may be blind but I can see right through you."

"Oh yeah?" Dave challenged sharply with a burning glower lighting behind his shades. He could feel himself practically bristling as the less than ideal topic was skirted dangerously like some sort of fucking adrenaline junkie of a ballerina. "And just what am I hiding if you are so sure of yourself?"

"Heh, if I knew that then I wouldn't really be asking would I? I have my guesses that I would put a few solid boonbucks on but a true legislacerator doesn't rest until every last dirty detail is uncovered."

Silence fell over the small space as Dave simply dropped his dark gaze to the ground stubbornly and Terezi regarded him not unlike a hunter would watch its prey as it stumbled about unaware of the nearby danger. WV shifted from foot to foot uneasily in the far corner and the carapace glanced between each of the room's other occupants before he nudged his toe at one nearby can, and shuffled quickly towards to door to slip out.

"Why do you even have this deranged need to know?"

"Why are you hiding it if there's no reason I should be curious?"

Shit, Dave swore inwardly as he was once again countered in his attempt to simply brush aside the line of questioning. He was feeling more than degraded at this point and Terezi seemed to be drawing full enjoyment from every agonizing second.

She clucked her tongue before chuckling again and leaning her weight backwards, bracing herself on her hands, before extending one leg to kick over a nearby tower of cans. They plummeted to the ground and bounced about in a flurry of metallic clangs that echoed faintly in the nearly empty, enclosed space. "You're not doing a very good job of defending yourself here, Dave. In fact I think your silence is all the confession I need."

That got him, with an audible snarl he snapped out one arm to topple his own previous can project with a vengeance that sent the cyndrilical pieces ricocheting in multiple directions and rolling off into the shadows. "Fine then, Terezi. Can't contain your burning curiosity? Is it really gnawing at you like some slobbery canine with a slab of meat hanging in front of its nose? Well I guess I'm obliged to pull back the curtain on this elaborate ruse you've so smartly sniffed out, congratu-fucking-lations my psychotic companion."

Dave's voice only rose and grew more feverent as the words came pouring out and he clambered to his feet in the process. It took two short strides to cross the space between him and the troll and he angled his body forward to loom over her as one hand came up to grip the frame of his shades before, abruptly, tearing them off. A heavy silence immediately fell over the two.

"…"

"…"

"Heh, no real surprise there."

"… shut up."

"Oh I seem to have agitated Mr. Cool."

"I just- What the actual fuck, TZ?"

"I'm not all too clear on how your human hemospectrum works but you kinda made it obvious with that candy red text you're so fond of. Delicious."

"Che, you're really impossible. You know that right?"

"I try my suave friend. You should really keep those thing off by the way, you smell so nice."

"And here we are skipping non-consensually into creeped to the out territory again." Dave muttered as he moved to draw back from the Libra. She had begun to lean upwards into dangerously close to personal bubble popping territory and he had the sneaking suspicion it dealt with a desire to get a better whiff of his peepers. Gog help him if she planned to spring a taste test as well.

"I sure learned a lot, heh. Who knew Mr. Cool had his touchy points and could be so easily…wound up." And there was that teasing tone again that could only be countered by a perfectly crafter poker face, which he called up instantly.

"No, fuck no. A Strider is anything but easily "wound up", witness the air quotes for emphasis, so you'd better get the idea out of your think-skillet or whatever you guys call it."

"… heh, not a chance."

"I really may hate you."

"In what way, Dave?"

"Screw you and your implications, I'm not defining."

"Then I guess I'm free to assume."

"Yes, assume to your dark little heart's content."


A.N:: This idea of Dave being self-conscious over his fascinating irises is pretty much a universal head-canon now but I just had to bring it up, the fact that I've been trekking through a particularly amazing, Dave-centric fic called Obscura doesn't exactly help either ouo This is also a particularly suckish attempt at some semblance of a pairing but hopefully it'll fade in if you squint and perform a variety of other perspective altering head angling. Either way, thoughts? Characters you want to see shamelessly (but not really since I am the worst with secondhand embarrassment) smushed together? Crazy prompts that happened to worm into your head? I want to hear em' all :B

Reviews to a writer

Are like chicken soup to the soul

So then, mind passing me a bowl?

V

V

V