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tallyhothere‌:

“Who knows.  Maybe it is a need for closure?  I’m not sure..half the time I have a hard enough time making sense of what goes on in my own head. What’s going on in his…an utter mystery.  But a best shot will be given…”   The gesture Dave gives is mirrored as you stuff your own hands into your coat pockets.  “If anything, I’m sorry for dragging you out into this whole muddy affair.  It’s just…well with all that is happening I had to try to do something.  No good comes from sitting idle and just feeling sorry for oneself. And all that nonsense.” In a sense, you can’t even be that upset at Dirk for it Goodness knows the idea that your dad was alive in another world would be enough to get you moving heaven and Earth to find him.  You sigh.  “Not sure.  I get the feeling the green mansion folks will probably bail him out…maybe?  Add more to his debt I suppose.  That or he’s just going to…I don’t even know how the system works here. It’s not like there’s been any laws but her laws back home which don’t really leave room for survivors.” You snap to a more chipper expression despite the sting to your face. “But! We’re going to work it out. My friends and I. I have confidence it will see through, one way or another.  Just! Sorry again for dragging you out to a rouse n tussle like this!  You seem like a relatively alright chap.”

“No need to apologize. Water under the bridge.”

Quickly, you scribble down your number on a pad of paper, stuffing the pen and pad back into your jacket as you hand the paper over to Jake.

“Here. If he needs help, gimme a call. Let him know we can meet up sometime when he gets out. Nice meetin’ you, Jake.”

With that, you turn to head home, thoughts heavy on your mind.

Double Pissed Bros

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Went record shopping today

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tallyhothere‌:

Glancing at the page, your head is a whirl of thoughts combined with just the general rattle from the punch prior.  You aren’t even sure if this is an answer or just…more questions.  God he probably is Dirk’s brother just because of how overly complicated they make everything. “He is…Dirk. Yes.  And yes, would have been a bit better up front.  Heh…will be a bit of an honest poke in that part of this whole thing was because he was supposed to be here himself. The idea being he’d have a chance to meet you face to face and try to get this whole git situation lock stock and barreled.” Ugh…you’re going to be so sore tomorrow…you wince as you shift your stance. “But I guess something happened. I’ll just level you with the details because I’m not one for this subtle dance and I got more exciting things to do than chatter my sauce-box all night.  He got pulled into this world, crashed right into some sort of Felt manor? Ended up boonfangled by them, running their bar which just got arrested tonight.” You take a step back. “My friends and I are here to rescue him, get him back to our dimension. But he doesn’t want to go until he knows if you are well…whoever you are.  And while it’s tempting to lie to him…that’s just not in me to do. So, that’s that. Rock and a hard place.”

You think this should be affecting you in some sort of way. You always imagined that you would find “Dirk” and feel an explosion of emotion. Like everything would come together for you. So either he’s not the right Dirk or you’re living in a fantasy world. As usual.

Still, despite the fact that there has been no miraculous revelation, it doesn’t sit right with you that the Felt got their grubby, green hands on another vulnerable person. And a Strider, at that. 

You sigh, stuffing your hands deep into your pockets and rocking on your heels. Hmmn. “It’s too bad he’s so hung up on this brother of his, who’s supposedly dead. I’d say, if he thought the guy was dead this long, just bury his shades and call it a day. Seems like he’s missing out on some real decent friends who actually care about him if he gets all hung up on which Dave Strider in all the multi-verse is his. I dunno. Maybe he’s too emotional to listen to reason. I’m sure you’ll give it your best shot.” 

You scratch your chin, squinting at Jake’s bruised nose. You’re starting to feel bad about it. Like, really bad.

“Does he need help getting out of jail or...?”

Double Pissed Bros

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tallyhothere‌:

That gets a groan out of you. “Ughhhhh… what is with Striders and their dedication to this beat-down beat-around the bush poppycock nonsense!  I swear!”  You give the snow a frustrated kick before rising to your feet and dusting yourself off.  Ow ow buggering hell everything stings now that the adrenaline is drying out. “Well then movie man, here’s a film pitch. Not that I expect you to believe any of it.”  You rub your nose with your sleeve, not pleased with the pullback and how red it is. Dammit, you’ve stained the coat you borrowed from Dirk.  “Once upon a time in another universe, there was another you. A movie-maker, creator of the Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff theater experience.  A delightful cinematic set of masterpieces designed to covertly warn the people of the tightening grip of the batterwitch.  The you of another universe was a hero, the one who stood up against the Hilaricaust ontop the white house before riding off into the sky…never to be seen again.” You fold your arms, and look at him. “But more than the legacy he left behind, he left a younger brother. Alone, in a flooded apartment building…in the shadow of a legend. A legend who sacrificed his life to be the last stand against the batterwitch herself.  Or so everyone thought…so he thought. Me too I suppose.” Shaking your head you sigh.  “I came here because I’m not from here.  I’m from that other universe and I’m going back soon.  I’m here to get my best friend back before I go.  But ever since he found out you’re here, he’s had it in his head that you may be his brother.  This “legend”. And he’s willing to risk being trapped in this snowy concrete jungle for the rest of his life to find out…so that’s why I’m here. To find out for him.  If this sounds like I’m trying to sell you a dog then by jove my deepest apologies and I’ll blue skidoo begone for good.  All I want is one solid answer to give him so we can be on our merry way.” And maybe a handkerchief for your nose, but you aren’t going to ask that.

Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff... haha, that’s funny. If you are from another universe, that is at least one thing you’ve carried along with you. It’s a childhood memory, after all. And it was always your dream to turn your shit drawings into a big screen movie for the masses. Hell, you have tats of the characters.

Maybe, you think, it’s pretty shitty that you remember these dumbass characters but you can’t seem to remember having a brother. But you’ve got an inkling you know who this brother is.

“Cool story, bro,” you tell Jake, “Sounds like this guy was willing to give up everything to save as many people as possible. That’s what they call a tragic hero in the book biz.”

With a heavy sigh, you hesitantly pluck your note-to-self from your breast pocket. Always on hand, well worn from all the opening and reading and folding back up... You unfold it and show it to Jake, careful to keep it just out his reach. You don’t trust him that much.

“I’m guessin’ this friend of yours is named Dirk. And he might be that weird kid that tried to ask me out for drinks...? Woulda had a better shot if he was just upfront from the start. But see, this Dave you’re talkin’ about? He was made of stronger stuff than me. He gave up everything giving it his best shot. Me? I couldn’t give it my all and I was so desperate not to lose everything that I tried to fuck with time to fix it. Lost it all, anyway.”

You point to the last line in your letter. ‘Find Dirk.’

“If I had a brother, and his name was Dirk, I didn’t wanna lose him. In a last ditch effort towards whatever the fuck I was doing, I tried to make sure the dipshit that is my current self knew that ‘Dirk’ was this all-important person I absolutely needed to find. So. Again. If you’re looking for some asshole who decided to kick back and have a timeline cruise, sippin’ Shirley Temples with a Hawaiian shirt and some flip-flops who don’t give a fuck about nobody but himself and his legacy, then you’ve got the wrong guy.”

Double Pissed Bros

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tallyhothere‌:

Your muscles tense when you register his footsteps, not sure if to expect a calculated kick or something else. But no kick comes, and you find yourself looking up at him as he offers you his hand. The words register and it makes you pause.  Do you have it out of your system?  Right now you feel like you ended up with more questions than answers and a mess of a face.  You frown and look at the sky, not bothering to accept the hand up yet. “…have you always been here? Since the beginning of you?  And I don’t mean this Derse place. I mean…here. All of here.”

You raise a brow at the question. Taking in a deep breath through your nose, you, too, look up at the sky. “That sounds dangerously existential, my guy. You’ll find I’m a simple-minded dude. All that deep shit in my movies is bull. But if you’re asking if I’m from this universe, or whatever, then your guess is almost as good as mine.”

Double Pissed Bros

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tallyhothere‌:

The only one more surprised the punch landed than him is you. Can’t really say it felt good…actually your knuckles are stinging quite badly along with the rest of your tenderized self.  But you weren’t even fully sure you could hit him. Not that you have much time to marvel or say much of anything, because now that you’ve gotten a look at his eyes you can see they are ANGRY as the dickens.  And you are the doorstop just standing there versus taking the opportunity door you just knocked on. He’s so damn fast, so fast that you know he’s swinging not because you see it but because you just know. Sure enough, you feel the impact and all you can see is but stars as you feel your feet leaving the ground.  The world spins and the sound of the thud registers before your body informs you that the wind has been knocked out of you.  Your face feels hot, and you can only assume your nose is bleeding.  If you’re lucky it’s not broken. But that’s hard to think about right now as you’re clock has been rung and it’s now twelve past midnight, time to remember how to breathe o'clock.

You stand over Jake for a while, watching him as he struggles to catch his breath, blood gushing from his nose. Your hand stings. That was not a cool, calculated hit. That was messy. A far cry from the chill little beat-down you had in mind when this whole thing started.

Circling Jake, you pick up your sunglasses, give them a wipe, and then put them back on your face where they belong. Your jaw is going to need some ice. You come back to stand in front of him, offering a hand up. 

“I don’t know who the batterwitch is. And I sure as hell haven’t been lollygaggin’. I work my ass off every day. So you either got me mixed up with someone else or you’re spittin’ some straight ignorance, there, Jake. Hope you got it out of your system.”

Double Pissed Bros

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tallyhothere‌:

Oh bugger.  The deflection was unfortunate…but almost expected.  Again it dawns on you that Dirk would most likely have replicated his own moves that he learned from his brother into that robot. Which means you are intimately aware about what is to come next.  As he goes on the offense, you accept that you are not going to get out of this easy…speed was never your strong suit.  And that was the Strider way of life.  For every hit you can deflect, three others get past. So instead you just buckle down, focus on trying to keep the worst hits away from where it really counts.  It hurts, a lot.  And you feel your knees buckle slightly as you turn to avoid one blow and receive two more.  He’s going to whittle you down into nothing at this rate.  Dammit, you can’t drop now.  Dirk’s depending on you. Roxy and Arq is depending on you! If you can’t figure out who this high-show pony is, you’ll risk Dirk wanting to stay behind to find out. “Gck!  As if I need to!  Worry about you! Taking me seriously!” you spit out through gritted teeth as you recoil from a well-timed shot to the chin.  “The man who faked his fight and death against the batterwitch. A hoax, a con man!  Giving people a martyr to die for and believe in while lollygagging in some other time and place!” You take a blind swing, knowing it will probably cost you leaving the opening but dammit if you didn’t want to try to land one solid hit on this chump.

Any other day, any other person, under any other situation, you’d have matrix’d your way away from that punch years before it was even sent sailing. The thing is: it’s not the punch that gets you. It’s the vague images that flash before your eyes as he speaks, blinding and bewildering you. There is a sharp, phantom pain in your chest and then a bright, physical pain across your jaw.

You can’t remember the last time you were hit so hard and so square in the face. From a swing as slow to you as a wagon on the highway. Your glasses fly off of your face.

You don’t know what you’re feeling or what you saw. All you know is, you’re irrationally angry. It’s the most intense emotion you’ve felt in the ten years you’ve been living on Derse. You’re not angry at Jake, you at least know that, but it isn’t going to stop you from taking it out on him. The retaliation punch you deliver him is intense. Hopefully enough to finally knock him down.

Double Pissed Bros

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tallyhothere‌:

There’s things to consider in all of this.  First off, the guy is far better at fighting than some random bluenosed bimbo, and definitely better than someone whose bread and butter was movie-making in a posh city like this. You highly doubt he would have learned to react fast from afternoon kickbox classes in between film shoots. Secondly, he didn’t draw his sword. So kudos for confidence and keeping it to fisticuffs.  Good form there. Points to him. But you’ll consider that later, after your instincts settle down because the most important thing is there’s a foot coming towards your face.  Thankfully you’re able to bring up your arm to take the full force…but damn if that doesn’t sting and will likely leave its mark down your arm tomorrow.  Finishing your slide, you roll back up and take a more defensible stance. Alright, time to remember you aren’t fighting lusus. Time to go back to the times you were stuck fighting that infernal training robot Dirk unleashed on your island for months.  Your main advantage here is this fellow doesn’t have a database of your moves memorized, so you go for a fake-out, taking a swing which leads into a side kick in the hopes you can psyche him into the second.

You respect a guy who can take a punch. Or a kick, in this matter. You land with the grace of a cat, spinning on your toes to prepare for the next move. Jake goes from defense to offense pretty quick, guarding his vitals but throwing a swing. You catch the tense in his thigh.

There isn’t a lot of power in the swing; you lurch your chest back to avoid it and immediately reach for that incoming leg. A swift strike to the calf is enough to bounce the kick back. Still, it’s a little stronger than you were expectingly. Shaking your sore knuckles, you smile. “Keep up the training, kiddo, one day I might be able to take you seriously.” You crack your neck one way and then the other before descending upon Jake with a flurry of blows. Give him a taste of the sort of speed he needs to expect out of a fight with Dave motherfuckin Strider.

Double Pissed Bros