Dirk couldn't seem to keep his mind off Dave the next day, even though he knew it would be better if he did. He had always . . . wanted to know Dave, for who he really was, of course, and not as the brainwashed batter witch version. He knew it was incredibly stupid, but maybe if he was friendly to him, he'd feel better about all this? Maybe he could squeeze out a bit of the real Dave?
No. No memory forcing. No hinting. No flash triggering. That would only turn him into the asshole of the year. He wanted to be Dave's friend, not the reason he got a touch-up.
He took a deep breath, staring Dave down from his place at the cool kid's table with Roxy, John, and Rose. He was all by himself, staring at his lunch. Dirk took another deep breath and stood up, slipping away while his friends weren't looking. Carefully, he walked to Dave's table and sat across from him.
Dave peered at him with his bright red eyes and scoffed. "What do you want?"
Dave looked at his awkward. "I uhh . . . just wanted to say sorry . . . for everything yesterday. I want to start over, be friends maybe."
Dave laughed scornfully. "Us, be friends? Me, wimpy academic Dave Strider, be friends with strong, popular Jock, Dirk Stri– wait. This isn't about our names is it?"
Dirk opened his mouth to deny this, but Dave interrupted him.
"Oh my god. It is isn't it? That's why you saved me yesterday, isn't it?"
Dirk tried to think of an excuse, but he didn't want to risk spilling the full truth. "Y-yes . . . it is . . . sorry."
Dave rolled his eyes. "Name seeking is like memory forcing. It doesn't work. It just drives you off the deep end. Remember that girl last year who wouldn't stop talking about frogs and planets and space and dogs and stuff? She memory forced, and they dragged her off somewhere, and everyone had to get memory screened. I mean, are you trying to get a touch-up?"
"Well, no, but–"
"Don't be an idiot, Dirk Strider. I think it's better you stick with your friends, and stay away from me." With that he got up and left.
Dirk sighed and put his head on the table. So much for that.
0o0o0o0o
Roxy was always one for going to bed early, and Dirk was glad for that, because once a week he would always wait until she fell asleep, and sneak out of the house just before curfew got serious, to go to The Gate. What was The Gate? It was what separated the upper class human side of the Rebel City from the lower class troll side, and when the human curfew began, the troll curfew ended, meaning the guards did a shift change, and there was as small window where one could quickly and discreetly cross between sides. Dirk turned on the small silver device in his pocket, and his appearance shifted. His skin turned grey, and his hair turned black. His fingernails and eyes yellowed and his teeth sharpened. Out of his head appeared a set of curved orange and yellow horns. He took a moment to check himself out. He'd spent months on the device and he was pleased with what it generated now. He adjusted it to darken out the orange from his irises and added some orange streaked into his hair to blend into the crowd better. This was by far the stupidest thing he did on a regular basis, but he needed to find them, the trolls from the beta session, because If just one of them remembered, then maybe, just maybe, all of them could stand a chance.
0o0o0o0o
Karkat laid shivering violently on his little bed, his phone lying close to him, while he tried to reply to Sollux as often as possible. Image flashes. That's how it started, wasn't it? Then concepts, then feelings, and confusion, and madness? He was remembering. He was on a one way road to a touch-up, and there was nothing he could do about it, except lay in bed, and fake, and hope with all he had that Terezi would not find out.