~Confrontations I~
The sun was high overhead as John stepped out the doorway,
using his hand as a shade from light above, he fumbled awkwardly with his keys
as he tried to get them back into his pocket almost desperately, eager to be
off. For some reason, John delighted in going to work; making the customers
feel happy and welcome was an incredibly rewarding experience, even if the pay
was less than he might desire. Stuffing his keys into his pocket, he felt a car
key digging into his thigh, though he ignored it and marched down the steps.
John wore a light windbreaker, predictably a light blue
colouration, which hung loosely over an incredibly worn t-shirt, which was a
faded black tee-shirt and coupled with a pair of loose fitting jeans. Stuffing
his hands in his coat pockets, he set off toward the bus stop at the base of
the hill. The row houses on either side of the road were quiet, as most
residents having left for work hours ago. John breathed out a content sigh and
stopped at one of the cross walks, only to see a familiar face staring over the
road before them.
Her hair was a magnificent blonde, though it was obscured by
a beanie sitting on the back of her head. She wore a pair of tight fitting
black jeans a white shirt, covered by a loose fitting purple cardigan. Her hands
were folded behind her back, and she seemed totally oblivious to the fact that
she was standing –right- in the middle of the sidewalk, forcing young men and
old lady alike to walk around her. Many seemed as though they’d push by her,
but as they drew closer, they would sharply turn and avoid making contact.
John hurried forth, raising an arm, waving, and called out;
“Rose! What’s up?” The poised young woman turned to face John, nodding. Though
she didn’t actually speak until he was a few feet away from her, “hello, John,
and I see you’re energetic as always. For someone who was out partying, I’m
rather surprised.” Rose looked John up and down, “you dressed like that at
that… mix down, didn’t you? Even I
know that’s social suicide.” John had always admired how poised Rose was when
she talked. She never made a fool out of herself, and always kept her emotions
controlled, something John readily admitted to envy.
“I did not! I wore
that new shirt, y’know, the one Jade helped me pick out. And I’ll have you know
that I did make a friend. His name is
Dave Strider. He’s Dirk’s little brother. I didn’t even know Dirk had a little brother, let alone one
that’s so…” John trailed off, making a swirling motion with his hands. Rose
nodded thoughtfully, that look of hidden intelligence glinting in those grey
eyes. “I see… Though I was aware Dirk has a little brother.” Rose commented
idly, though for a moment it looked like she was about to say something more,
she looked away and spoke once more after a long break, “who are we closing
with tonight?”
John frowned, pursing his lips, and decided to drop the
topic at hand. Having known Rose since infancy through their relation of his
cousin Jake English and whatever Rose had to do with Dirk Strider, he was all
too aware that Rose never gave the whole truth or every truth. “I think it’s
Gamzee, though for all we know he could just not show up and bar the doors with
garbage cans again.” John chuckled at that thought, fondly remembering the many
times that they had made the shop into a shithole,
at least according to Karkat, one of their less than pleasant coworkers.
John’s thoughts were interrupted as a rickety bus rounded
the corner. Rose canted her head toward the bus and once it stopped, “An
interesting turn of events, this…” she mused, receiving a rather confused look
from John. “Interesting, indeed…”
~
Dave pushed himself upright, his back popping, desperately
trying to resist the act of waking up at two in the afternoon. One hand wiping
sleep from his eyes, the other fumbling around for a pair of since discarded
pair of aviator sunglasses, he groaned, “fuckin’ hell, what time is it…”
Pushing already strewn sheets off his person. Though, a dreaded voice
interrupted his sleep, with a fully annoying English accent.
“Well, I think it’s two o’clock, Shit, mate, you sleep a
lot!” Dave instantly scrambled for his sunglasses and slapped them on with such
haste that the nose clip bent on his face, and groaned again. Though, his
flurry of movement only seemed to amuse the one and only Jake English. “Oh
Dave, why hide your eyes from me? Blimey, I see your brother’s eyes daily, no
need to hide from me of all people.” Jake continued to ramble on about what an
amazing and unique eye colour Dave’s family had, though the freshly woken blond
had all but stopped listening.
Firstly deciding that criticising Jake’s attire was in
order, he silently made a list of what was wrong. Jake wore a skin tight green
sweater whose sleeves went halfway down his forearms, covering his strong
biceps and midsection. Donning a pair of, in Dave’s opinion, far too short
shorts for a man of Jake’s masculine physique and size, worse yet, he wore a
pair of knee high leather boots, laced all the way up. “… So Jake and I, we’re
at Rose’s mom’s place and she’s just completely blitzed; I say, it was
hilarious!”
Dave, pushing himself to a stand, ran a hand through his
hair. “Jake.” He spoke once, though the strong brunet didn’t seem to hear him.
“Jake.” He repeated, louder. Though, much to his annoyance, Jake kept on talking.
“JAKE!” Dave shouted, causing Jake to jump abruptly; “aye, mate, no need to
shout!” Dave’s left eyebrow twitched at that, though he quickly composed
himself, “why are you in my place? How did you get in? And moreover, why are
you dressed like a Russian fighting lesbian?” Though his questioning only
seemed to amuse Jake, and he began to laugh broadly.
“A Russian fighting lesbian? That’s pretty clever, Dave. And
Dirk’s in the other room, something to do with those delightful dirty puppets.
Anyways, I cooked up some breakfast; Dirk should be halfway into it, so if you
want some; better get out of bed. Also, you might wanna change outta your
skivvies.” Jake rambled aimlessly. Having realised that he was wearing nothing
but his boxer briefs, which barely served to cover anything, and subsequently
pulled on a pair of ratty sweatpants and a sleeveless tee-shirt. “Better! Let’s
go to breakfast, yeah?” Jake nodded eagerly, and threw open the lopsided door
to Dave’s room which had fallen closed while Jake rambled aimlessly. Dave
shambled through much akin to a zombie, only to find Dirk standing on his ratty
counters.
Dirk appeared to be hanging puppets with phallic adornments attached on some sort of
mobile straight out of smuppet hell. The tall blond seemed so terribly pleased
with himself as he did so, a little smirk playing at the corner of his lip.
Below him and dangerously close to being stepped on was a plate of half eaten
eggs, bacon and pancakes, along with an entirely empty two plates. “Bro! Get
the fuck down!” Dave barked, storming over. Bro hopped down and stood, smiling
an insincere smile at his little brother whose brow was knit in anger, “you
don’t like it, Davey? I’m hurt. I put a lot of work into this mobile work of
art.” Dirk cooed, going to ruffle Dave’s hair, though the latter smacked the
former’s hand away irritably, and immediately regretted the decision. “Touchy,
I thought you’d be grateful after I got you such a great friend. You know,
that, uh… Jake, what’s his name?” Bro looked over Dave’s head to Jake, who
seemed like he was trying to be absorbed into the wall in order to avoid the
ugly confrontation of Striders. “John Egbert is his name, Dirk.” Jake said
quickly, English accent butchering both names horribly.
“Right! John Egbert. From what I saw you two hit it off
really well, or am I wrong?” Dirk turned back to Dave, only to find the younger
Strider all the more angered. “I don’t need your help in my social life and I
certainly don’t need you trying to fix me up with dorky little shits who fawn
over me like a god and had teeth like a beaver. And for the last time I’m not
gay!” Dave’s temper slipped out, practically shouting the last sentence, and
immediately regretted this as well. Dirk tsked sadly, and sauntered over to
Jake, slinging an arm around the brunet. “Don’t you want to be happy like us,
Davey? Just admit it and you’ll be better for it.” The elder blond announced
confidently.
Dave scoffed irritably and shook his head, “I’d rather be
dead than like you, Bro. Now get those damned puppets down before I get my
sword.” Dave’s words only elicited a groan from Jake, who whined “can’t you two
just get along and eat breakfast together?” Dave waved a dismissive hand at
him. Dirk rolled his eyes, and sauntered forward, placing a hand on Dave’s head.
“Little Davey, calm down, you might wanna calm down, there.”
His tone was lighthearted, though Dave knew far better than to take the tone at
face value. From the slight tenseness of Dirk’s hand to the slightly more
straight angle of his spine, Dirk was growing angered, and Dave decided that a
slight repose from their hidden rage was necessary and… desired. Dave’s hand twitched
and his arm swung upward, catching Dirk’s stationary wrist in his long fingers.
Thumb and two forefingers pressed deeply into the soft, sensitive tissues below
the wrist itself, causing Dirk’s hand to spasm.
However the elder Strider wasted no time in returning the
gesture of pain to Dave. With his free right hand he grabbed Dave by the collar
and raised him deftly into the air. Dirk’s right wrist was freed as Dave went
swinging for his. “You know, Zeus was the youngest of his family and yet he
supposedly ruled his brothers and sisters, and even before that, overthrew his
father, Kronos…” Dave spoke evenly as his fists met nothing but air, Dirk
lazily dodging him, before sending a knee clear into Dave’s stomach, dropping
him in the process. The younger blond crumpled as he hit the ground, though
after a slight repose, spun his right leg out, catching Dirk at the shins and
throwing him to the ground. Jake stumbled forward, going to catch Dirk, though
the elder Strider shook his head, angrily, “stay out of this, Jake, it needs to
be done” Dirk caught himself with his hands, jumping back up to his full height
and throwing his weight into a hard punch toward Dave’s face.
Dave raised a hand, going to catch the punch as it was sent
right for his face. Catching the fist was no hard work, though stopping the
immense strength of his elder brother proved simply too much to handle for the
younger Strider, and his own knuckles crumpled into his face, digging deeply
into his cheekbone. With a cry of anger, he shoved the hand away and stumbled
backward. Though he couldn’t simply let Dirk get away so easily. Dave stumbled
backward, feigning grave injury, a smirk of satisfaction coming over Dirk’s
face. Dave feigned placing a foot forward, still playing his stumbling game.
“Kronos was a monster, Bro… he ate his children. Our father was a monster too.
Maybe it’s my lot in life to finally surpass you…” Dave said quietly, voice
still as monotone as ever. With his left hand he grabbed Dirk by the forearm,
wrenching him down. Raising a long leg into the air, he connected his foot with
Dirk’s chin, and with the sickening crunch of teeth, blood began to flow from
his lips as the elder Strider simply stood there, bent at the waist.
Dirk slowly raised back up, his mouth a bloodstained gory
wreck, hidden behind a cacophony grin. “Well well well, you really are just a
shit, aren’t you Dave? I go to all this effort for you, and you kick me in the
teeth… The irony is disgusting and…” He began to chuckle a bassy chuckle,
“fucking kids, no damned gratitude nowadays…” Wiping at his mouth with the back
of his hand, he continued to speak, whipping the gory mess to the ground with a
rather unsightly splatter. “You’re on your own, Dave. Good luck, you’ll need
it.” Jake quite suddenly bolted forward, placing an arm around Dirk and
practically dragging him toward the door. “Jake, I’m fine. I’m almost… proud.”
Jake pushed the door open and hurried the bleeding Dirk out
the door, casting a mixed look toward Dave. Was it fear he saw in his eyes?
Admiration? Empathy? Dave couldn’t say. It was as though those two had been
hiding something from him all his life? “Damnit… Damn it all to hell!” Dave
stomped off toward the dirty futon in the living room, taking a seat with a
loud thump, and simply sat there in silence.
Minutes passed in silence as Dave sat there, his mind
meandering over what he had just done. He had let his cool slip and gotten into
a fight with Dirk, and this would definitely bite him in the ass.
A soft knocking came from the front door.
“Yep. There it is. Jaws a-snapping.” Dave mumbled, pushing
himself to a stand. Making his way to the door, another knock came, “Alright,
alright, calm your shit, I’m coming…” Rubbing at his cheek, he opened the door,
only to see one of the last people he wanted to see.
“Hi, Dave. Jake told me you wanted to hang out?” John Egbert
stood before him, a nervous smile tugging it at his lips. Dave groaned loudly.
“Fuck.” The blond groaned.
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