WHY ARE MY DAVE CHAPTERS SO SHORT AUGH

Whatever, I've never really RPed as him anyway, so I guess it makes sense, I just hope you guys don't think that I'm purposefully not giving Dave enough attention... it's just that I'm incapable of doing so.

Terezi chapter up next.

z/S

Dave Strider

The first thing you noticed was how teal and puffy her eyes were.

You had found the girl in a corner, glasses off, head in her hands, and clothing... well... it looked as if she had just kinda... thrown it on in a hurry. Her shirt was inside out and her pants were... I guess you could say askew? Her hair was slightly ruffled, and she was barefoot. But the first thing you noticed were her eyes, for she had obviously been crying. She hadn't looked up when you had approached, but she had greeted you.

"Hey coolkid." She had said, in a faint monotone. This immediately made you worry. Usually she greeted you with a lick to the face and a cheerful-yet-teasing "Hey Mr. Coolkid Von Nakkadoodlicious!", which had become an inside joke between the two of you after a remarkably shitty series of comics, 'nuff said.

You sit down next to her, mentally planning a questionnaire to throw at her. But before you can get a single thought out, the part of you that still thinks that it's cool to be obscure with a distressed girl around says "Hey, what's up?"

"Let's see, the ceiling, your ego, as usual, and... my level of depression. Yeah, those are some nice elevated things to answer your question with. Happy fucking wriggling day."

And yet she could still be snarky. That was a good sign, right? That she could still have emotions? "Well let's put 'noise' up there with it and have you tell me why the hell your depression is in an obviously elevated state."

She drops her hands and turns toward you, probably trying to decide whether or not you were being sincere. Then her face twitches, and she drops it back down to her hands.

"Karkat." she replies, in almost a whisper. If you hadn't been paying quite as much attention you probably would've missed it.

"Alright, lets go." you say, standing up. You offer her a hand. She looks up at you, or rather, smells up at you.

"Go where?"

"Don't girls eat ice cream when they're sad or something? We're going to go alchemize you some of that shit, then we're going to my room because your room is so fucking colorful it gives me a headache. Ok?" you state, in a rather 'duh'-like manner. But she actually smiles, and takes your hand, getting to her feet.

"Whatever you say, Nakkadoodlicious!"