Note: The humans are now on their way to DOING ACTUAL SHIT. We are all so proud. Shorter chapter, but eh.
[H] Day and Night One
Planet Earth: 1.025 weeks of hardkore survival training after landing on Jade's Island:
Dave Strider has crammed many remarkable things into his relatively brief lifespan. He has mixed a shitton of sick beats. He has strifed the fuck out on 69% the skyscrapers of his hometown. He has dealt with many a crisis involving plushrump, microwaves, and takeout. The challenges posed by a simple trek through the untamed jungles of his friend's private, tropical island should pale in comparison.
Just as soon
As somebody
Fucking turns off the humidity and mosquitoes I mean what the legitimate fuck is wrong with this place.
"Yo, John," he said calmly, blinking sweat out of his eyes and tugging on the straps of his backpack, "Got any bug spray?"
From about five paces ahead the snappish voice of what appears to be a big green backpack responded, "No! Stop asking already!"
"Kay man keep your thong on I was just checking. Again. To make sure. Being eaten alive back here I'm not shitting you."
"Dave! I know!"
Dave slapped his neck and then gazed upon the black smear on his palm with satisfaction. Now if only he could destroy the x-million fuckers of this bloodsucking species that were still busily honing in on him.
The forests here were like nothing he'd ever encountered. Sure, there were parks, with the occasional, like, tree or something back home. Sure, he'd driven up north with Bro some summers to catch a reprieve from the stifling heat of the city, where such tree-beings were more numerous. Speaking of which, the heat. Jegus, Manny, and Jehosephat the heat. Dave could handle a hundred degrees, a hundred-ten, hell, one summer shit brushed a hundred-twenty and he was chill as a fucking iceberg. But this hellhole of an island was a whole 'nother story. The heat clung, like so many sweaty bitches just stifling your every movement. Jade claimed it was eighty-five Fahrenheit but this hellacious humidity made it feel like he was dying in the very pits of hell itself.
And then there was the foliage, trees tall and dark and shady, but when the heat is in the air instead of the sun like it should be, the shade made hardly any difference. The undergrowth was a tangle of barbs and roots and poisonous things that Jade cheerily pointed out as they went along. The trail was windy and barely a proper trail at all, rocky and uneven and narrow, leaves-of-three foliage edging in on the sides.
Maybe Dave was being a little harsh. The green canopy was beautiful, and the dappled light on brightly colored flowers could, objectively speaking, be considered striking. But being streaked with sweat and assaulted by what felt like the entire population of this island's gnats wasn't much conductive to optimistic thought.
Jade stopped. "Water break! But keep your packs on, guys."
"Thank that one holy baby what's-his-name."
"Jegus?"
"Yeah that guy. Jaade. You got any bug spray or what."
"Rose has it!" She poured some water into a plastic bowl for Bec, who lapped at it heartily.
"Rooooose."
Rose delicately patted sweat from her brow and took a sip of water. "It's in the pocket of my bag, help yourself." She gestured to the bulky mess strapped to her back. Tied to the main backpack via rope and stretchy cords was a bedroll, a tarp, a water pump, some cooking pots and utensils, a pistol, a hatchet, and a whole host of other awful survival shit. It was almost like she hadn't bothered to pack anything into her actual bag, opting instead to tie everything onto the frame.
Dave stared at her.
"Go on."
"The thing attached to your spine is a fucking eldritch abomination, you can't tell me to stick my hand in there and expect it to come back out alive, what's wrong with you."
"You will find the bug spray nestled safely under the climbing gear," she said, smiling lightly at him. Bequerel barked twice and appeared to grin, tongue lolling from his mouth as he panted heavily.
Oh.
Ohhhh.
Well played, Lalonde.
Well. Played.
But Dave fucking Strider wasn't about to go along with her shit. Oohhh no. He saw where this was going, and if Rose Lalonde thought she could take advantage of his itchy plight then she had something else coming-
Something bit him right between the eyebrows. He slapped it. The smear on his palm was easily as big as an engorged housefly.
When they set off again, the bugs wouldn't touch him, but he had about ten pounds of extra weight strapped to his back.
Fuck you, Lalonde.
Fuck. You.
They set up camp at the bottom of the volcano, as planned, laying out their bedrolls under a tarp on the smooth, volcanic stone. Dave went off into the trees to pump water from a nearby source, leaving the rest to deal with the rain tarp. Rain was a thing that happened here. In the summer. What.
"Let's use the outcropping here, and then attach the other corners to some rocks, that'll work. John, could you-? Yeah, there we go."
As the sun set they settled down around a fire, chowing down on trail spaghetti, which was about the same as regular spaghetti, except the sauce was cold because everyone was too impatient to heat it up.
"We made okay progress today, guys!" Jade said happily, "Tomorrow will be much harder, but-"
John made a weird sound in the back of his throat, which an objective bystander would've likened to the sound of a rat that had just been stepped on.
"You okay John?"
"Oh, uh, yeah just choked on this bit of, uh, carbohydrate. Noodles, you know how they are."
Jade nodded, as though this were a perfectly reasonable explanation. Rose and Dave had eye contact, which they quickly broke off before either one of them could break down in undignified snickers.
"So anyway I thought we could take our gear up there, maybe send someone down for water in the evening, that way we can camp out in a cave! Sooo cool. And that'll make an extra day or two of exploration easier to carry out."
Dave looked at John. "You want to carry the climbing gear tomorrow?"
John split his face into the most terrifying grin ever beheld by humankind. It is testament to Dave Strider's iron nerve that he didn't immediately recoil and scream for mercy.
Jade sighed. "Oh my gosh you guys! If you're all going to keep fighting about the climbing gear then I'll just carry it, you bunch of wussies!"
"Oh no, Harley. You know a gentleman like me couldn't let you do that. My chivalry would never recover from the shame."
She raised her eyebrow and pointed to her own pack, where a large shotgun and a rappelling harness were still tied securely to the frame.
He amended, "It can still recover from letting you carry that. I'm being all respectful and acknowledgin' of your badass stamina here. That shit weighs as much as John and Bec's fat asses combined, I swear."
John kicked a rock in Dave's direction and slurped up some more lukewarm spaghetti.
It was approximately eleven-thirty-five-and-fifteen-seconds-point-two-five when Dave Strider awoke with a start and rolled over on his sleeping pad. So okay, not that late, but bedtimes are early when you're camping and the convenient nuclear lamp in the sky goes out by eight, no ifs, ands, or butts.
He rolled over again, and again, and wondered just why the fuck he couldn't get comfortable when he'd been dead to the world mere moments ago. He sat up, thinking to maybe move the bedroll over a few feet, when he noticed Jade's empty bedroll. He swiveled his head around, searching and saw the silhouette of someone and her dog down by the ocean, staring out at the waves. A mere twenty-two-point-oh-three-seconds of climbing down the rocky slope later, and that someone and her dog were at a much closer spacial coordinates.
"'Sup."
Jade turned and looked over at him, half her face pitch-dark, the other half lit with minimal moonlight. She was standing in the water, loose pants hiked up her thighs like the dorkiest fucking balloon diapers ever conceived of, and he saw half her face grin a bucktoothed greeting. Jade, why are you so fucking perf.
"Hi Dave. Join me?" She gestured to the the water around her. Bec sauntered off down the beach.
He kicked off his shoes and cuffed his pants smartly a few times over, then waded in a little ways. The water wasn't as freezing cold as it looked. She slogged a little closer to shore to stand next to him, water dripping down her knees, and then turned and continued staring out to sea.
It was silent for a while, until she said, "You know, we're a thousand miles from any other people out there. We could be standing on the edge of the universe, look!" She kicks one foot, nearly splashes his immaculate pants with bright droplets, "Moonlight, right there. We're wading in the stars. The world's so big. So BIG! We're nothing! And also we're wading in the stars."
"Hello there CJ," he says, facing the ocean but watching her from the side of his eye as she stares down at her star-dipped toes, "You come here often miss Space Witch?"
The shadows on her face curve up at that, and she turns her gaze to the sky. He wants to touch her hair. But he can't. Contemplative Jade has her mind out to sea, has her soul out to sky. Also it would be so awkward. Wouldn't it? Is hair-touching like a taboo in this scenario, because it feels like it could be sacrilegious.
His hand touches her hair anyway, finger pushing a wild snarl behind her ear. Well shit, so much for that.
She turns her gaze on him, thick eyebrows and shining eyes and a quirky little smile.
"You're so small," she tells him, "And I'm so small. But we're gods, Dave! Look at this!" She kicks one foot again and this time the cuffs of his pants do get wet, "Tiny tiny ginormous gods!"
And then Becquerel chooses that moment to come charging back down the beach, splashing water and wet-dog-smell all over them as he passes. Dave stops touching Jade's hair and Jade just laughs and kicks water after that fucking devilbeast.
"Aww, Bec! Who's a good boy? Who's a good boy?"
Jade, no. No.
She hums and wades back out of the water, "I think I'll go to bed now. You coming?"
He watches her kick droplets of moonlight off her feet and roll down her pant legs. "Yeah. I'm coming."
;)
Following updates will be more intense, I promise.