Dave Strider [au2] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
turntechtrainer) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-04-16 11:13 pm
turntechtrainer) wrote in towerofanimus2013-04-16 11:13 pm
Entry tags:
To deal with time is to accept you will die over and over again and no one will ever know.
Characters: AU2 Dave Strider, AU2 John, and you.
Setting: First in Room 1-12, then all over the residental areas.
Format: Whichever you want.
Summary: Dave fights a losing battle from within while his body goes about the programmed tasks of a basic worker unit. Being part of Group C is suffering.
Warnings: Malfunction could occur, there's a chance for it in every thread. Expect body horror, gore, possible injury in the event of a malfunction, death if you give permission for it, and mental trauma because Dave will be aware of what's going on half the time.
[Room 1-12]
He remembers bits and fragments of what happened to him while time burns him from within with raw agony that he can’t escape. It’s not as terrible as it probably should be. Half the time he doesn’t know it’s not supposed to be like this. The other part of the time he struggles for the right to even think behind his own eyes. His body is no longer his, but his mind is all he has left. Like hell he’ll give that up without a fight.
It’s like racing through time loops, only the places he goes are fairly mundane in a horrific sort of way. The bitter cynical part of Dave that’s so jaded from managing timelines understands he can do nothing but wait. It’s the hardest thing of all to accept, but as the hours pass he has no choice, but to at least acknowledge the fact.
During the night his mind shuts down. He doesn’t know what happened before he comes to and he doesn't want to. The less shit he has to think about the better. Dave finds himself at the foot of a bed. He doesn’t look at his bloodied hands, his eyes are fixed on the sleeping form tucked on to one side.
John.
The conscious part of his mind struggles hard for control even if it’s futile. Not John. Whatever is going on, he will not harm his best friend. The body doesn’t respond to him, only waits in silence and watches. Thin cables stretch down the back of his neck from the base of his skull, plugging into his skin and covered by his Godtier attire. He continues to wait as droplets of blood fall from his motionless fingers.
He waits. And he fights from within and no one not even himself can hear his desperate fight to make right what could go wrong. The schedule in his mind shifts, and somewhere someone is dying. He wonders what it says about him that he sees that as normal. Time pays back mistakes with death. That’s just. How it is.
One sucker down.
[Residential areas]
Dave strides quietly through the residential area, moving with specific purpose. He has a job to do, or so he feels compelled to believe. Inside his head, the boy sourly remarks on nothing. Anyone with the ability to read minds would hear the most random shit.
Yeah sure, just pick up that trash like it’s your job. Which fyi it isn’t. It isn't your room. Or the closet. Shit, how long has it been since I had to clean my own room? Two years and something months. That’s right.
Never did find that stupid pair of socks. The white ones. Not that they were white anymore. They got washed with some of Bro’s smuppets and turned green. Wait, I might have burned them in the sink after that. Like farewell you poor tainted suckers, you served me well.
Put them down gracefully.
There’s a shift in how he walks when Dave isn’t present behind his eyes, it’s a bit stiffer, like a butler busy ensuring the household is well tended to. He never speaks, and ignores all greetings. Sometimes in the back of the mind once again there is the steady running commentary.
I get we’re too cool for school but this is stupid. At least wave you fat nasty trash.
Setting: First in Room 1-12, then all over the residental areas.
Format: Whichever you want.
Summary: Dave fights a losing battle from within while his body goes about the programmed tasks of a basic worker unit. Being part of Group C is suffering.
Warnings: Malfunction could occur, there's a chance for it in every thread. Expect body horror, gore, possible injury in the event of a malfunction, death if you give permission for it, and mental trauma because Dave will be aware of what's going on half the time.
[Room 1-12]
He remembers bits and fragments of what happened to him while time burns him from within with raw agony that he can’t escape. It’s not as terrible as it probably should be. Half the time he doesn’t know it’s not supposed to be like this. The other part of the time he struggles for the right to even think behind his own eyes. His body is no longer his, but his mind is all he has left. Like hell he’ll give that up without a fight.
It’s like racing through time loops, only the places he goes are fairly mundane in a horrific sort of way. The bitter cynical part of Dave that’s so jaded from managing timelines understands he can do nothing but wait. It’s the hardest thing of all to accept, but as the hours pass he has no choice, but to at least acknowledge the fact.
During the night his mind shuts down. He doesn’t know what happened before he comes to and he doesn't want to. The less shit he has to think about the better. Dave finds himself at the foot of a bed. He doesn’t look at his bloodied hands, his eyes are fixed on the sleeping form tucked on to one side.
John.
The conscious part of his mind struggles hard for control even if it’s futile. Not John. Whatever is going on, he will not harm his best friend. The body doesn’t respond to him, only waits in silence and watches. Thin cables stretch down the back of his neck from the base of his skull, plugging into his skin and covered by his Godtier attire. He continues to wait as droplets of blood fall from his motionless fingers.
He waits. And he fights from within and no one not even himself can hear his desperate fight to make right what could go wrong. The schedule in his mind shifts, and somewhere someone is dying. He wonders what it says about him that he sees that as normal. Time pays back mistakes with death. That’s just. How it is.
One sucker down.
[Residential areas]
Dave strides quietly through the residential area, moving with specific purpose. He has a job to do, or so he feels compelled to believe. Inside his head, the boy sourly remarks on nothing. Anyone with the ability to read minds would hear the most random shit.
Yeah sure, just pick up that trash like it’s your job. Which fyi it isn’t. It isn't your room. Or the closet. Shit, how long has it been since I had to clean my own room? Two years and something months. That’s right.
Never did find that stupid pair of socks. The white ones. Not that they were white anymore. They got washed with some of Bro’s smuppets and turned green. Wait, I might have burned them in the sink after that. Like farewell you poor tainted suckers, you served me well.
Put them down gracefully.
There’s a shift in how he walks when Dave isn’t present behind his eyes, it’s a bit stiffer, like a butler busy ensuring the household is well tended to. He never speaks, and ignores all greetings. Sometimes in the back of the mind once again there is the steady running commentary.
I get we’re too cool for school but this is stupid. At least wave you fat nasty trash.
no subject
I am a unit. Units don't speak.
Ok, that isn't what he wanted to say. Something is better than nothing. His fingers jerk as if he is about to write more, but more never comes. He lets go of John's hand and takes another step back. He has work to do. The conscious boy frowns at the thoughts attempting to wash over him. So far he's made little progress in reclaiming his body. He'd just have to exploit any loop hole he can find.
And he realises he found one. Maybe he can get messages through. It's worth a try.
no subject
There are a few involuntary spasms as Dave finishes his message, but other than that John is still enough that the message comes out clear. Nothing about this is okay.
"A unit, what? How? Why I don't..." Understand? Well that's a given. Nothing about this makes sense. "Never mind, you probably don't know the answer to any of those do you? Christ this is so fucked up." He runs his hands through his hair, curling up a little bit. "The others! Dave, what about the others? Rose and the other Dave disappeared too. And Jade! Did you see any of them? Don't write on me again just... nod or shake your head."
no subject
The body won't let him stay any longer. Damn. He's running out of time. It takes every ounce of mental will he has to turn back and grab John's hand one last time. Units serve the tower. No matter what.
Then he let go. Not the message he wanted to give, but it would have to do. He turns to leave.
You are such an idiot but don't trust a damn person, ok? Especially me.