towerofanimus | As we sift through the hour glass

Characters: Dave Strider and Open to anyone
Setting: Around the Tower
Format: Either
Summary: It's been forty years from Dave's point of view.
Warnings: Possible mentions of death. Mention of injuries. Dave not being able to talk. Time problems. Replies being made with

rememberstime.

[Dorm Levels]
A ~~young~~ man stands in his dorm room.

Hahaha. Except he's been doing this for forty years, so it's not all that surprising. Dave was more mystified over the fact that his Ninetales looks much too young. Hell, he's pretty sure she's in the exact condition she was when he first got her when he turned fourteen. She seems rather confused too, almost not recognizing him for who he is. It's only a brief moment before she's approached Dave and is licking at his hands and headbutting him affectionately.

Dave kneel down to inspect her thoroughly. He felt the strange pause in time. Of course he did. It's impossible not to have felt it at his level. Dave has basically mastered what he can of his aspect. Like a real knight of time.

This? This makes absolutely no sense, not that time ever really did. He inspects her for a minute longer before trying to check the time on the terminals.

Welp. That was a useless endeavor.

Dave beckons her to follow him, intent on leaving the Dorm and out to the other floors. Perhaps you're in the room or perhaps you were looking for Dave right as he's about to head out.

[Floor 38: Lounge]
Dave was sprawled out on one of the beanbags letting Missy run about the room. He usually chooses this floor over floor four, being farther away and making it a little more quiet.

He's got a pad of paper at hand and he's lazily sketching things out. Mainly, Missy, although it's hard when she was all over the place. Not having a camera lead to being out of a hobby. He's picked up drawing again to make up for the inability to take photos. It was a good way to pass time and it was something he could do quietly.

[Floor 3: Library]
He's used the library a lot more since he's gotten older, burying himself in as many books as he can and reading them. Right now? He's seeing if maybe there's anyway to gather information on the current predicament. He highly doubts it, but it's also nice to touch up on things like this anyways.

Maybe he'll just read a really shitty, raunchy, romance novel while he's here.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You've been in this tower for a little while. Shouldn't you be used to weird shit happening?

Dave doesn't seem all that bothered about their predicament. He thinks this is pretty damn awesome.

"That's beside the point!" Somehow, at least. And it is awesome! Weird, but awesome. You saw him, he cried, that's how awesome it is. But it's still weird. "I didn't say it was the bad kind of weird, though."

You get used to weird ass bullshit. Trust me. Your ability to handle dumb crap becomes incredibly high. It's a blessing but also embarrassing to admit.

Dave and his ability to handle stupid shit, the life.

"I guess so." He just shrugs, before pulling his hand away and cutting off communication. "Enough chitchat though. Can I get my hat back now?" Because he feels kind of naked without his hat. He can tolerate Dave's shades though. "And I'm thinking trying to find a beer would be a great fucking idea right now."

Dave lets out a silent chuckle and holds the hat out to Bro so he can take it back. Fine fine, you can have it back. You want your shades with that?

There's a bar on one of the lounge floors I believe.

"Then shit, let's go."

He takes his hat and puts it firmly back on his head. He can do without his shades, he kinda likes the way they look on Dave. It was a huge disappointment when Dave switched to the aviators anyway, so. Yeah, Dave can keep those a while. He turns and starts heading out of the room, nodding for Dave to come along.

Gosh, Bro. You're like the hugest dork. Sheesh. He likes his aviators. They're the same fucking pair that John had given him decades ago. They've been through a hell of a lot.

He follows after Bro, right on his heels.

He doesn't care how sentimental the aviators are, Dave. He likes you wearing HIS glasses. Pointy animes are better than aviators. Whether that makes him a dork or not is irrelevant.

And he leads the way to the bar silently, and when he gets there, he opens the door for Dave. "Ladies first."

Dude, no. Aviators are cool as shit. All the hot shots wear aviators. And he's a total hot shot. Or whatever.

Dave punches Bro in the arm and heads in. Fuck off man.

Yeah, keep talking that shit. You know scalene triangles are the fucking shit. What do you even call aviators? Their shape isn't even a fucking word. But scalenes? Yes. Hell fucking yes.

Ow. Not that he says that or anything. He gives no hint that it hurt at all.

"And now you know why I called you a lady!" He heads in behind him, shaking his head and trying not to rub at his arm.

Dave knows how strong his punches are, Bro. No amount of pretending will make him think that he's losing his touch.

He just flips Bro off. Man, he doesn't need your bullshit. They came here for a drink anyways.

Real mature, Dave. Which is why he's also throwing his hand up and giving you the middle finger back. Because he's the epitome of mature, too, thank you very much.

And they did come here for a drink, which is why Bro is going up and ordering one for the two of them. It's not long before he has them, and he's passing one over to Dave. "Cheers."

Dave takes it from Bro and takes a swig. And promptly kind of makes a face. Alcohol is just not his thing. Sorry, but if it doesn't taste as girly as lolita, then he can't fully enjoy his alcoholic beverages.

He's such a girly drinker.

"What the hell kind of face is that?" Bro asks, raising an eyebrow. He's judging you, Dave. He's judging you so hard right now. Seriously, what kind of guy can't handle a simple beer? Man up, bucko, this shit is all you're getting.

He just frowns at you. Dude, no. This taste like shit. He rather drink juice than drink this crap. Why couldn't you just let him have juice? Why did you let him think this was a good idea?

Oh my god, he regrets all his life choices up until now.

You're over reacting so much right now, Dave. Holy shit. It's just a drink, it isn't as if you're suddenly going to have to live off the stuff for the rest of your life. It's nothing to regret your life choices over. One drink isn't that bad. You can have juice later. Drinking with your bro is fun, isn't it? Christ. What a drama queen.

He is not overreacting. He just totally doesn't like drinking this stuff. Christ. He can totally drink with Bro with juice. Bro can have all the alcohol he wants and Dave can be a fucking sissy and drink juice. Even water. Sheesh. He just sticks his tongue out in disapproval.

Wow. Woooow. That's so fucking mature of you, Dave. But you know what? He's going to take it gracefully and just casually lift his drink up, sticking out his pinkie finger in a sophisticated manner as he heartily chugs his beer.

Oh my god. Just fuck you. He doesn't want this stupid drink. You can have your stupid alcoholic beverage. Dave shoves it in his direction. You can't make him drink it. Nope.

"Seriously?"

God, Dave, you're such a prissy drama queen. So you know what? To prove a point, he's going to grab Dave's drink and guzzle it down in a few big gulps. "That's how a man drinks, yo." And now he's going to grab his again and start back on it.

Dave just flips Bro off. You know what? He doesn't have to be a man you asshole. He was a great motherfucking princess anyways. Too princess for your shit.

Oh yes. You're the prettiest princess, Dave, it's you. Seriously, there's not a prettier princess out there. Next you'll be a fucking queen. "So anyway, your inability to drink aside... I dunno." He shrugs. "Tell me about yourself or something."

Dave responds with a lazy shrug. There isn't a lot to mention, he thinks. He's pretty much kept to his hobbies that he liked when he was thirteen. Sure, he got more invested in drawing, but was that worth talking about for more than a few minutes?

Wow, he is incredibly boring. Sorry, Bro.

As we sift through the hour glass

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