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Entry tags:
We're making this happen.
CHARACTERS: Rose Lalonde (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
knitwit) and Dirk Strider (splinterself)
DATE: May 23rd
RATING: PG13 for possible foul language!
SUMMARY: Rose is planning on improving her skills by grinding in a remote area. Of course, she naturally wants to stock up on goods at the weapon shops and item stores and it is here she runs into Dirk Strider.
There had been no true reasons why Rose Lalonde could find comfort in her surroundings. Not only was the eternal calling that pecked and pierced her brain giving her a headache, but it was urging her onward in her quest for knowledge on their situation. Her datalogs had been finished for the day and all she had to do was step back into reality -- or virtual reality -- and make her plans active.
The weapon store had been dealt with, a small upgrade was her prize after selling some useless items she encountered. The heavy book still traced against her hip from it's sling, but she was not weighed down too much. It swayed to and fro as she continued towards the dimly lit merchant booth that housed her current needs and wants: items.
Rose's vivid irises scanned the stock, attempting to navigate her needs and wants with the utmost calculations. Darn those calculations.
"If only there was some sort of walk-through I could read on this stupid item guide," Rose whispered under her breath.
It was tedious to navigate their little communicator, but she made due using the apps she needed. Perhaps when she wasn't aimlessly tired and the eternal sunset wasn't plaguing her vision she'd learn the electronic. Highly unlikely, but she still continued her search through the silly item bar.
knitwit) and Dirk Strider (splinterself)DATE: May 23rd
RATING: PG13 for possible foul language!
SUMMARY: Rose is planning on improving her skills by grinding in a remote area. Of course, she naturally wants to stock up on goods at the weapon shops and item stores and it is here she runs into Dirk Strider.
There had been no true reasons why Rose Lalonde could find comfort in her surroundings. Not only was the eternal calling that pecked and pierced her brain giving her a headache, but it was urging her onward in her quest for knowledge on their situation. Her datalogs had been finished for the day and all she had to do was step back into reality -- or virtual reality -- and make her plans active.
The weapon store had been dealt with, a small upgrade was her prize after selling some useless items she encountered. The heavy book still traced against her hip from it's sling, but she was not weighed down too much. It swayed to and fro as she continued towards the dimly lit merchant booth that housed her current needs and wants: items.
Rose's vivid irises scanned the stock, attempting to navigate her needs and wants with the utmost calculations. Darn those calculations.
"If only there was some sort of walk-through I could read on this stupid item guide," Rose whispered under her breath.
It was tedious to navigate their little communicator, but she made due using the apps she needed. Perhaps when she wasn't aimlessly tired and the eternal sunset wasn't plaguing her vision she'd learn the electronic. Highly unlikely, but she still continued her search through the silly item bar.
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Dirk couldn't think of a good metaphor and he was pretty fucking busy anyway. But it didn't feel like this was the first time they had met, which he supposed was kind of accurate given their shared ectobiological origins. It made him wonder what working with his bro would be like.
Taking Rose's suggestion under advisement, he opted to start with one of the legs, figuring it would make targeting a bit easier for her if she didn't have to worry about it moving about while she was concentrating. Maybe just a bit. Plus, he figured dodging the fists would be good practice if he ever ran into Sawtooth again. Not like that would happen, though.
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In fact, you could say the orb was...
toxic.
Anyway, the mass increased with the force of Rose's hands, guiding it ontop of the creature's head, high above. With Rose's eyes focused directly on the line she created. She wanted to pop that bubble like a festering -- well, let's not go into detail. She wanted that poison to infect the boss, trickling down his HP to the best of her ability.
It was then, a free punch towards Dirk would miss, yet send a fury of flames towards Rose, scorching her shoulder as she dodged just in time to avoid being turned into a burnt flower. She rolled into the straw grass surrounding her, groaning out at the small batter wound.
She winced, her hand clutching onto the raw and singed skin. It was a moment that she lost control, causing the vile purple liquids to pop and gush over the creature. It was doing damage, -5HP per second. Given the massive HP, it was pretty good considering what it was.
A little help for Dirk, if he was able to dodge the poisonous goop himself.
Goop on Dirk's face.
Better watch out.
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Dirk dodged. He fucking dodged! He sure as god damn Christ hope he wouldn't get hit by something like that. God dammit. How would he be able to face anyone if he was able to say, yeah, sure, he got bukkaked by his paradox relative because he was too slow, sup with you? Ain't no big deal.
As the steaming purple goo streamed over the boss' face Dirk took the opportunity to pull out and knock back a healing potion in a motion which was becoming disconcertedly too practiced for his own liking. Bleh. Still tasted like shit.
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Call her impulsive for once, but she wanted to make up for any "slack" with an abundance of high mana area specific spells.
Poison money shot or not: the fact she hit something with the toxic bubble was a relief. Even if she winced at the pain her arm was receiving. Her bag was lost in the motion, the small hip bag resting yards away.
"Just keep him busy for a moment," Rose sputtered from her dry lips, even if it was easier said than done.
With her seated position, everyone knew your characters gained extra fast restoration! So her mana was already doubling back. Just a little while longer and she could do the windy thing again -- or possibly the earthy thing.
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"Gotcha." It hadn't escaped Dirk's attention that Lalonde didn't exactly sound the best, but he wasn't exactly in a position to run over and check, not unless he wanted to actually broface the giant's brofist. It was dealing with the steaming pile of toxic ejaculation but was still deadly. Even if Dirk had to wonder what the fuck it was aiming at once or twice. Like right then. It appeared to be vacillating between trying to punch him and trying to deal with the toxic splooge.
...and damn that toxic shit was splattering while it flailed like a spazzy douche.
"I can buy us time. Take your time, Lalonde." Which was the closest he'd get to admitting that he'd feel terrible if he killed Roxy's mom shortly after meeting her.
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"I'm fine. Really, the epitome of the word. Just --" She stumbled to her feet, feeling her hands contort the ground while her energy dispelled from her form. The ground rumbled under the goblin, giving enough footing for him to stumble back onto his back. Can't stand while there's an earthquake, bitch. She was messy with her deliverance, groaning between her teeth. But, with the goblin tipped over -- his head was ready for the literal chopping block.
Go Dirk.
Do the slicey thing.
God damn. See this, Jas? This is me taking my dignity out behind the shed (again) and shooting it.
...what? Hey, look, listen, sometimes you can't always have several hundred words fervently describing the action in tense yet excited tones, filled with passionate descriptions about how the sword went snicky snack and blood splattered and comparisons to how the action was not unlike the felling of a mighty oak. Well, maybe a stunted oak that had tree rot and needed to go.
If it helps, reader, if it helps: hit up the nearest thesaurus and find synonyms for sword, neck, maybe silver and red. So, 'the argent blade swept downward like a flash of lightning, sundering the head from the body.' Or maybe, 'the quicksilver sword cut sharply, ending the gargantuan beast's life in an instant.' It's like Mad Libs. Be creative.
...what, shit? You still want more? Fine. This is all you get.
Out on the field fresh outta Mac Anu,
Soon as they stepped on the scene, they're seeing goblins screaming, scheming for Derse blood
The life of a Sburb player where dreams die and it's all out war
Boss fight? Man, shit's so slight that there ain't nothing to dread.
Go pap your ass while he cuts off your god damn head.
...alright, so the end is weak, but the dude's kind of busy right now.
beautiful soul
"Heh. Well, it seems we have a notch on our bedpost already. Not bad."
She stumbles a bit, clutching at her forearm. The sight was massively impressive. A buncha powder goblin leftovers with drops Rose refused to dig for and one giant dead and gone.
It was like a symphony of the masses,
A warzone claimed by the underwhelmed classes,
Heat and brimstone conquered,
And another chapter authored,
Between Derse and space with a reunion of the ironic,
Victory was brought upon as if it was nothing but tectonic,
Seeing hearts and prices with light,
A dedicated combination deluded into the one constant: to fight.
I'll write you goddamn sonnets if that's what you need.
(Normally he wouldn't bother, but come the fuck on, given how games work there was a decent chance the head would transform and they'd be busy with round two.)
"So it seems. We make for a pretty good team, Lalonde." He moved to offer a fis- no, he caught himself in time. Instead, he eyed her critically before taking out a potion and silently offering it to her with a slight nod of his head. Her call, it's there if she wants it, she can pay him back in potions sooner or later.
Don't make me bust out the modern day wooing rap music.
Either way, she was near him examining the scene with him.
"It seems so. Or perhaps Derse dreamers just have good genes." That may or may not have been ironic considering he was technically not-really her father. If Dave could gush about Roxy being his mother, then she would quietly dwindle her thoughts away to that conclusions about Dirk. Well, more-so Bro.
The potion was appreciative and between bloody fingers she would reach out to clasp it. Down the hatch it went and she could feel any wounds regenerating.
Quite the odd feeling.
"Is there a bag of loot he may have dropped? Before he kicked his figurative bucket." Oh, no sex this time, just death. Shhh.
...thinking about it, the only losers are everyone else.
He thought he might have seen something - the glint of something that wasn't a by-product of the goblin, nor blood nor toxic slime, but he wasn't sure. At the time he had been kind of preoccupied by trying to keep himself in one piece. He was also fairly certain that if he had been right that it was somewhere under the body. The lack of loot elsewhere implied it.
Fucking fantastic. There wasn't anything under the first arm he lifted. He got lucky, though. Under one of the legs (aka: not after rolling the body over) he spotted treasure. Of a sort. The level one grimoire wasn't likely useful, but that wasn't for him to decide, was it? With that in mind Dirk wedged it out and offered it to his fellow Derse dreamer.
"Here."
we are the stars.
She was off, taking a few steps towards her discarded pouch that she kept her items in. Of course, now with it in her possession, she planned to return the potion. But, that can wait.
"Ah. Thank you," She spoke softly.
Rose returned and glanced at the loot. It wasn't something she could find useful but she extended her hand to grip onto it. An honest smile returned to her face as she clutched the bounded book against her breasts, as if it was some shield on showing some honest non-snarky emotion.
"Shall we return? I'm not exactly sure if there is some supplementary quests but..."
She'd lift her hand to wipe away the sweat on her forehead, "I do believe I need a cold drink."
And no, not liquor.
Well, maybe she had grown on it when she was utterly bored...
Like a katamari.
It wasn't like he didn't think they could take another wave. Amazingly, he felt better about their chances than before they went out there. Rather, it was more that he found himself thinking...did he really feel like another fight today? No? Exactly. He had other things he wanted to do. Acquire a puppet. Sew a plush to throw at Jake's head. Sew another plush to throw at Dave.
And that drink sounded good. Because this place hadn't gotten any cooler since they started hanging around.
"I think I need one too. Lead on, Rose."
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It would be such a shame to have to battle for another hour.
So she was in utter relief that he wanted to move away from the now desolate battleground in exchanged for a hopefully more cultured and refined experience. Bar or not, she wanted to cool off.
Rose would pull out her relic, looking over the commands that were available.
>HELP
>MAP
>OBJECTIVES
>EXIT DUNGEON
...
>EXIT DUNGEON
The thin hand moved to grasp at Dirk's with no more then a second between the soft button click. Taking the lad with her, Rose would find her eyes adjusting from the brightness to the now infinite setting sun. An eternal twilight that played it's own beautiful story on the heavens above them.
Her fingers pulled from his and she'd tuck away the relic, sighing a bit.
"Much better. Do you know any place that sells refreshments not in bottle form?"
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He shook his head ever so slightly and turned in the vague direction of the shops, his expression smoothing over to something a bit more neutral as they walked. "I mean, I don't know if you noticed, but while there's places they're hardly in the same quantity you'd normally expect from a city of this size."
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Until he brought up the conversation on Derse.
"Agreed. They were rich with European Gothic influence in their architecture; a we mean business type of aura radiating from it's very radius."
Derse got it goin' on.
She was following behind him, her hands clasping behind her back as she walked; strolling moreso. A bit of lightness to her step as she traversed with her kind of father? She guessed?
"This place seems run down. Thrown together and such. There's many unused shops, doors and pathways not permissible. I'd suggest there is an update of sorts in the future," Rose noted, hm. There really was a lot of problematic areas of the city..
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And he paused in his gait, turning towards her and...hopefully not causing a Strider-Lalonde collision in the process. (If so, sorry. Insert apology here.)
(...insert insertion joke here.) One hand reflexively fell to the hilt of his sword in an action which was less the prelude to strife and more having something to hold onto. It still felt weird not having his juju around, and that was something he didn't exactly feel comfortable telling anyone, even Jake. "I don't really know what I was like in your universe, and I'm not sure I want to know, but in mine? My bro made movies. He ran a goddamn media empire." Here a metaphor threatened to loom its head and start running and Dirk forced it down. Not now. "Mac Anu makes me think of a movie set, down to the NPCs who don't really do anything besides add background scenery."
He tapped the hilt of his sword once and then...shrugged. "I know the game metaphor's more apt given the circumstances, but that's just what this place reminds me of. At least in Derse the carapacians did something. Anyway, it ain't far." He was leading them to what was pretty much a little hole in the wall a step removed from the main thoroughfares of Mac Anu, if not by much. It was small, shaded, and sold non-bottled drinks.
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His mannerisms caught her attention and as he turned, she sidestepped just in time to miss a collusion.
"You weren't my guardian. Dave's, naturally. I don't know what you were like and I respectfully acknowledge your distaste to unraveling that mystery."
Her face faulted once he mentioned his 'Bro' making movies.
"You've got to be shitting me," Rose spoke bluntly.
It took a moment or two to shake the cobwebs out before she cleared her throat. She better be a fucking God if Dave was making movies.
"I see. It has no personable and approachable sense. No charming Mediterranean coast villas. No bustling New York City activeness. No small farm town with one general store and a slew of colorful characters," Rose sided, rubbing the brim of her nose, "I accede with your sentiments."
Rose grew quiet as he shifted the conversation back to their little venture to find a drink. She would follow and observe, as if making a mental map leading here.
no subject
Oh, don't get the wrong impression, it was functional. The drinks were cheap and (more importantly) palatable. The seats were solid and the tables ample. It was hardly a rattrap in which they'd die shortly in. But it was just there. It didn't have excessive charm of any sort, it was merely functional.
There were a few reasons why Dirk had led Rose here. The main one being that it was somewhere they could get away from the main crowds, if but a little. Despite the fact Dirk liked there being people around, liked the fact that he could goddamn talk to someone without using a computer screen or building his own conversational partners, he still liked his space. Also, they'd be less likely to get interrupted here.
"So," Dirk said as they entered, "I'm sure you've got a few questions for me." Shit, might as well get it over with.
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Perish the thought.
There was a distinct lack of 'hustle and bustle', if one could even call the dwindling number of NPCs and players that. Rose didn't mind.
Following him, she was quick to take a small seat on the make-shift chairs for waiting customers, if some would use it. The small area was more or less for coming and going but two or so chairs seemed perfect for those essentially needing a rest.
"I do actually," Rose said with a small shift in gaze towards him, "I'd like to know something fairly simple."
She paused. It was hard to question. Especially considering all of the information they needed to defeat the batterwitch, Jack, and whatever else SBURB threw their way. But, she went personal.
"Do you know Dave considers his brother, whom is essentially you in theory, a hero? Before you get pessimistic, let me tie this directly to you: do you feel at peace meeting Dave? Because beneath that cliche cool guy demeanor, Dave is happy to meet you."
She left it at that. It wasn't a question, but she had to throw that out there. Closure, since she could pick up the fact he spoke in past-tense of his brother. It could mean multiple things, but she didn't kid herself on that.
Her gaze maintained it's noble state, a soft nod rolling off in confirmation that she wasn't lying.
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(Keep it cool, Strider.) He kept his gaze neutral, level, because what else could he do? Dirk sure as hell wasn't going to lose his cool over a question like that. Even if it was a pretty fucking complicated question.
"A hero? You're serious." That part netted her a bit of a stare, a slow blink lost behind his shades. It was an interesting thought for him to consider: a version of the most heroic figure in history thought that he was a hero. The legacy Dirk had inherited was, to him, a weighty one. Learning that on some level (even if it wasn't exactly him, just some version of him that had taken care of Dave and gone on to do he had no idea what) he had lived up to that Strider legacy was...nice.
If bizarre. Wasn't something he had ever thought he'd get confirmation of.
"I guess. I don't know." He shrugged, leaning back in his chair ever so slightly. "Sorry, Rose. It's kind of complicated. But I'll tell you this much: I'm definitely not disconsolate at meeting him."
no subject
Well, whatever male ego the boy had, she didn't feel like she had the energy to prod him. Especially since he was most certainly not Dave and probably would not take it in the same way he does.
"No problem. Don't worry about it, I won't bring it up anymore. He's not your Bro and I was suppose it was ignorant to assume you both should share some significant attachment to the idea."
She pauses, running her hand through her short strands.
This was a difficult topic.
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"It's fine. First: fuck, yes, of course I've got an attachment to the idea. One of the reasons we were going to play the game was the chance of resurrecting you guys, actually. I just wasn't expecting," he gestured at this point, a vague, loose wave which indicated the building they were in and by extension implied the city, "here."
This was interpreted as a gesture demanding service by the NPC, and after some formalities he acquired a drink. It was something vaguely exotic, after a sip (and a slight face) deemed too milky for his tastes, and ultimately forgettable, more gotten for the sake of trying something new than anything else. And it served that purpose admirably.
He pushed it to one side of the table before continuing.
"Second: when I came from, the most humans I've ever seen in one place was on Derse, and Rox spent most of that time drooling and sleepwalking, heading off to fuck knows where. All of this is new to me."
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Rose watched as Dirk was ushered a drink as if he was some form of royalty. Of course, he was, but it was merely the oddity to see such an occurrence. Fate was just too funny.
"Have them under your call, do you? Fitting," Rose would whisper with a soft chuckle.
Dirk was quick to continue and she was quicker to listen. She had a bit of condolences to the living situations. A sympathetic nod, but she wouldn't vocalize it: he seemed far too proud.
"I see. Well, I suppose the only way to handle a new situation like this is to make it worth your stay here."
She grew silent a bit, looking away.
This was all a bit to take in. Yes, another game, yes another chance to 'win'!
But, also another possible failure.
Her eyes kept focused away. She could feel the way the black tendrils of shadow crept from her skin in her past life. She could recall how each verbiage slithered from her throat into a mess of mysterious words lost in time.
It was rather blunt to know that games, and their horrors, were not new to her.
She'd rub at her wrist and forearms a bit, reassuring her that she was in proper mindsets for this.
"Well, you're not alone in this matter. There are plenty of people only a call away."
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...though technically with the responder would it be 3/5ths of a Strider-Lalonde reunion? On one hand it was derived from his brain waves, but on the other hand it was a fully cognitive, self-aware entity with a mind of its own. Well, likely it wouldn't matter.
Something that would matter:
"Rose. Got any questions about my session? The way I see it, we're going to have this conversation sooner or later so we might as well get it over with before things become too complicated."
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