capeandcowllogs | A Night in West Egg

He's a friend, why wouldn't I be looking out for him? Especially considering his company at the present is putting on a pretty shitty show at the moment.

[He feigns looking down his nose without actually showing his eyes, somehow managing to remain looking completely impassive in regards to Vriska's insults.]

You're desperate enough to wave the fact that you're getting attention from a kid like Egbert in my face. Christ. You could use a hobby. Maybe knitting. I'd say ask Lalonde, but she flew the coop. Not that she would've given you the time of day either.

[WHAT'S THAT? GIVING FUCKS? DAVE'S NOT SURE WHAT YOU MEAN. He lets the silence hang for a minute before speaking in a matter-of-fact tone that's disgustingly final.]

So. I guess you're fucked.

[She rolls her eyes, scoffing and looking at him in an equally degrading fashion. There's too much sass in the air, it's almost palpable.]

Oh please, don't act like you don't already have reservations about me prior to this little encounter. That's why you've been watching us since we got here.

Is that the only reason you showed up? To keep tabs on John?

[She arches a brow.]

I hate to break this to you, but Egbert is capable of taking care of himself. Or maybe you're forgetting whose from the failed timeline here.

Edited 2012-06-17 06:47 (UTC)

[That last comment nearly causes him to shatter the empty glass in his hand.

Focus, Strider, stay cool, you've been through worse than this bitch. The most she gets out of him is a wrinkle of his nose and a tiny little exhale.]

Pretty wild accusation, Cinderella. You're paranoid because you're actually a shitty person.

[He says it slowly -- he has to, or he might actually snap.]

Egbert dragged my ass here just like he dragged your's. Unless you actually thought you were special, or something.

[All of that rage is forced into the most smug of smirks, which for Dave Strider, is barely a smirk at all. Perhaps that's why its so infuriating.]

Dragged your ass here, maybe. Asked you to keep and eye on him and his date? I seriously doubt it.

[She's pretty sure she's gotten under his skin, which frankly makes her feel pretty fucking smug herself. She matches his expression.]

Talk about wild accusations, you don't even know me, and you've already got your mind made up.

[She shrugs.]

But no, see. I've got your number, Strider. I know why you're keeping such a close eye on John. You couldn't save your own John, so now you're projecting. Let me give you some advice. No matter how much you project onto this John, it's not going to save the one you lost.

John is past needing a fucked up sprite's protection.

Its not hard to see that you're paranoid. I don't need to know you.

[To avoid snapping the glass in his hand, he casually tosses it behind him, aiming for the trash but missing without really giving a shit. The air in the room just got about 30% colder.]

Cute, but you forget. There wouldn't be a John for you pine after like a helpless puppy without me. There's one John. So keep trying.

[He waits for Vriska to say something or to make a move, but his hands are free -- he's waiting until she's not quite prepared for the swing he's about to take.]

And you have me to thank for him not dying permanently now. I'm the one who helped him reach god tier, so maybe you should act a little more grateful for the troll that actually saved his ass in the long run.

[She's done looking at him, so instead she inspects her nails like this is the least interesting conversation she could possibly have.]

If not for me Jack would have killed him for good.

Like I said, John doesn't need you to look after him. He doesn't even need me to look after him anymore. So why don't you quit underestimating him and let him deal with his own shit without your shadow getting in the way?

[About half way through her little speech, Davesprite throws his fist straight to her face, accelerated in speed thanks to his control over time.]

You don't get to brag to me about that bullshit.

[His brow furrows angrily.]

Friendship is just one big convenience for you.

[FUCK. She stumbles back from the blow, and holy shit that hurts but wow she is feeling pretty fucking good because she just made him lose his cool.

Her head is swimming a little and she spits a mouthful of cerulean onto the floor before she lunges forward at him, slightly hampered by the lack of movement the dress allows for. Her hand goes for his hair to grab a fistful and slam his stupid head back against the wall. Her expression is something a little more manic than it had been previously.]

Still talking like you know allllllll about me! You don't, so just shut the fuck up!

Edited 2012-06-17 21:04 (UTC)

[She lets him slam him, forcing himself still, only reaching up to hold his sunglasses in place and to wrap his free hand around her throat to push her off.]

Did you stop your friends from killing him the first time? No? Because you didn't care, or because nobody listens to you when you talk? Either way, its not rocket science to figure you out.

[He moves to shove her off of him.]

Because Terezi's a dumb bitch and I didn't know she was going to!

[Her face contorts and she wrenches away from the hand, only to move forward again to slug him across the jaw.]

At least I made sure he wouldn't die for good a second time!

Oh ok, I guess I forgive you.

[He takes the punch with a grunt and catches glasses to put them back on his face. Dave rubs his jaw tenderly and clears his throat.

And then he flash steps to grab her shoulder and her weave to shove her straight ahead into the wall for revenge's sake.]

Thought about it. Changed my mind, since being oblivious isn't really a valid excuse.

Edited 2012-06-17 21:37 (UTC)

[FUCK OFF she does not have a weave!! She snarls when he grabs for her hair, and the air is knocked out of her when she slams against the wall. This is such bullshit and goddamn her face hurts.

She hikes her dress up to get some mobility and twists around, pulling her hair out of its bun. Her leg? Definitely swinging out to nail him in the side.]

What's your excuse? Being a fucking failure? Because you sure are great at that!

[Dave is done talking. This is literally the absolute worst subject anyone could possibly poke and prod at. However, he isn't quite expecting that swing around (considering her dress) so he takes the kick and half stumbles, his skin briefly flickering orange as he recovers from the lost air in his lungs.

He pivots and aims for her jaw, using the momentum from his recovery to speed up his swing.]

[Her head snaps to the side, and she rubs her jaw for a second before throwing herself back at him. She aims a fist for his gut while also trying to headbutt him, because there totally won't be consequences from that for herself, right? Right.

Unfortunately she can't use her other hand to try hitting him too because it's too busy holding up the fabric of her skirt, but it's no big deal. She can do plenty of damage without a second hand.]

[Dave is quick enough to catch her fist, the momentum shoving him back enough to cause his shoes to squeak obnoxiously on the floor. When she headbutts him, he goes a bit cross-eyed. While troll skulls may have been more designed for that sort of thing, he was still human.

He slips slightly, nearly losing the grip on her fist, but he holds it stubbornly. Dave's legs fall out completely from under him, changing instead to that bright orange tail he was so familiar with. Unfortunately for Vriska, he's also much quicker like this.

Still dizzy, he yanks back on the fist he's still holding, jamming her straight in the stomach with his free hand and shoving her away from him shortly after. Now that he's in sprite form, he's very winded.

Also aggravating the wound in his stomach. Vriska will enjoy a bit of fresh, golden blood on her dress from when he had pulled her in, despite the fresh bandages.]

[She crumples to the ground, gripping her stomach as both her head and gut bloom with a new pain. She coughs up another mouthful of blue. But instead of spitting it at the ground, she hops back to her feet and spits it at him in a show of complete and total Maturity. Much like the rest of this fight has been.

And then she charges as him again, grabbing his bandage to use it as leverage to throw him back into the nearest wall.]

Edited 2012-06-17 23:48 (UTC)

[It takes every ounce of his willpower not to bark in pain when she shoves at his wound. His tail wraps itself around her legs, one of his hands snapping around the wrist on his bandage as he shoves her back again, seeking to trip her with his tail.

He's forced to fold his wing to keep himself balanced without knocking anything or anyone over. If someone hadn't noticed them before, someone is bound to notice them now.]

[The trip up works, but she's not going down by herself. She grabs at his mantle to forcibly drag him down with her, and then rolls them over to straddle him so she can have more control of the situation.

Her fist collides with his face again now that she's got her bearings on the situation.]

[It took Hank a moment to close the distance once he noticed the fight, and a lot of other attendants for him to bound over, but he wastes no time in dropping in a hand to scoop up and hold the girl from dishing out any further beating.]

And just what is going on here?!

[At first glance, he doesn't recognize either of them. Whether they're students or not is something his three-month absence couldn't answer, but looking closer at the orange birdboy he realizes he has a face he'd seen in detention rather often. Why he's a bird is anyone's guess.]

...Mr. Strider?

[Scathach was right behind Hank. She had heard the commotion from across the gym, and had deftly dodged between students who were still dancing or gawking. Her arms were around the... winged boy just seconds after Hank grabbed up the girl. She was about the same height as him, but her arms locked around his middle and wing like a vice.]

I would also like an explanation.

[Her voice was calm, but the Irish lilt was very pronounced. Probably not a good sign.]

[When Dave is dragged down, he loses most of his advantage. He shoves violently at Vriska until Hank pulls her off and he's forced to release his tail's hold around her legs. He swipes blindly at her face, claws out, trying to grab some part of her to rip her out of Hank's grasp. He likely only succeeds in either smacking her or scratching her somewhere above the neckline.

When Scathach grabs him, he thrashes briefly until he realizes where her arms are and forces himself to bite his tongue to keep from outwardly displaying his pain.

When he speaks, however, its very strained -- your arm is on the huge bandaged and bleeding hole in his stomach, Scatty. This whole gym is going to be covered in gold by the time he leaves.]

Yeah, that's me. [He coughs when he tries to sit up and only ends up hurting himself more.] Easy on the goods, lady.

Edited 2012-06-19 01:38 (UTC)

[ And of course, what would a fight be if the catalyst that unintentionally started the whole mess wasn't there to see it? Nothing, that's what! John is standing a good several yards away, having stumbled onto the scene in time to see Vriska punch Davesprite in the face before the two of them got ripped away from each other.

And man, he sure doesn't look happy about this mess.

His shoulders slump slightly and he looks back and forth between Vriska and Davesprite, before taking a look at the people that broke them up. They seem to have it covered, and Davesprite will probably need someone to call an ambulance for him, what with how he's bleeding as heavily as he is.

Plus John doesn't really want to be in this room anymore right now. So he'll turn around and slip out, fumbling to grab his phone as he goes. ]

[Dave's hand catches the left side of her face, and she screeches at the unexpected pain and she's already trying to lunge for him again except oh wait someone has a really firm hold on her. She can feel blood bubbling up from the fresh scratches, and it's not long before cerulean is trickling down into her eye. At least he missed her eightfold eye, but not by a lot. She might actually kill him if he damaged that.]

Let go!

[She struggles until she catches sight of John in the corner of her eye and she goes rigid. That look he's giving them? Yeah, it hits her harder than anything Dave had done in the last five minutes. She wiggles, trying to see if she can use the blood all over her dress as a lubricant to slip out of his grip. She has to go after John, she just has to.]

Let me go!!

[Hank tries to tighten his grip, but all that blood is definitely a source of concern. She was bleeding, as well, but her wounds were minor enough not to take priority.]

Scatty, I think he's bleeding! Trade with me, but be careful, she's quite the little spitfire.

[She almost immediately noticed the wound, and swore in Gaelic. A student this injured shouldn't have come to prom--he should have been in a hospital. But she shifts her arms, intrigued by the yellow blood but not enough to waste time asking about it. The redhead nods, and picks him up as gently as she can (still restraining the wing) to hand him over to Hank.]

This is your area, yes. Give me the girl.

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