oculusriffs | ic contact for reverienet

Entry tags:

game: reverie

ic contact for reverienet

TG: this is going to be fucking stupid isnt it

[want to get in touch with Dave? you can leave a TEXT, VOICE, or VIDEO message — or alternatively, he shouldn't be too hard to track down in person. it's a hunk of junk space house. in space. he's around here somewhere.]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

[samurai ... yeah, no. not even ninja, honestly? but the wavy, mottled hair look isn't a bad one — hell, if one were to ask Dave, he'd say that Ryuji wears it pretty damn well. the weird body horror inspired earcuffs aren't too shabby either.]

[but that train of thought's pretty much entirely thrown off the rails and flung into a brick wall at Ryuji's question. his shoulders slouch just the slightest, arm still comfortably settled in place on Ryuji's shoulder.]

What?

[.........]

I mean, you can get cow pies for free. You just need to drive northwest a bit.

Don't think you'd actually want to be served one though, dude.

[This almost has all the charm of being in a natural museum, staring on at artifacts of the distant past, like a civilization that's been long gone, and holy shit, are cowboys cavemen in that analogy? From their current perspective, this was all, what... 500? 600 years ago?]

What, what?

[The place actually looked a lot more like Destinyland than a hootin' nanny type of square dance hall, so he's not even really sold on the whole thing. Ryuji loves roller coasters though, and as much as theme parks were typical hot spots for dates, there's nothing like the thrill of being dropped from a really high place and spun around upside down a few times. His friends didn't really agree with that so much. Or, at least, their stomachs didn't.]

Man. I never learned how to drive. Sure, like, Joker was in charge of the catbus and everything, but I was just sittin' shotgun the entire time.

[What's wrong with cow pies????]

They sound effin' delicious. An entire pie made outta beef. That's like. The best of both worlds. Dessert and dinner all rolled up into--- [...] Dave, what the fuck is a cow pie?

[this is one of those moments where Dave's mostly impeccable ability to keep a straight face is a blessing.]

[because he genuinely had no idea Ryuji didn't know what a cow pie was, and this revelation has been delivered to him bundled up in extra layers of "what?" and "oh god, oops, ran into a language barrier" and "holy shit lmfao."]

Okay, hang on to the word catbus for a few more minutes, 'cause I've got questions.

But a cow pie is just shit. I didn't even think about that not — translating correctly? Is that what happened there. I think that's what happened.

[sorry ... the dinner Ryuji's thinking of is just a plain old meat pie. but hey, he knows where to get those, too.]

What's a "buzzkill"?

Yeah! Did you find someone who can pilot? It's been pretty hectic lately, so I haven't wanted to ask...

[Catbus.]

[Catbus. Okay, held. Maybe he'll try to draw a picture of the Mona bus one day for Dave.]

[Okay, so you date a hot American guy and some things are bound to come up a little wonky in the differences department from time to time. And sometimes you might think that eating cow shit is a delicacy without knowing it's actually made out of cow shit to begin with, so Ryuji's just standing there, staring at a picture of Houston and.]

FORREAL?

[He feels like he's a kid again, mistaking the difference between the creature that moos and the word delicious, and as he ducks out from under Dave's arm, he turns to him and proceeds to blow his lid.]

THAT'S SO GODDAMNED DISGUSTING.

[And immediately, he brings his hand up to his mouth, wincing. For the record, no, no he doesn't eat shit!!! Not that that was ever really brought into question, but he points down to his skateboard with a tablecloth drawn over it, not far from the towels spread out.]

Dude.

DUDE.

I made us a picnic and everything. It's got, like, 4 types of toast. D'you know how effin' long it took to try and tell a replicator about different types of bread!?

[in all fairness, Dave pretty much just texted it and blazed on ahead without offering any context clues on what the hell a cow pie actually is. he's suddenly struck with the urge to come clean about the hootin' nannies, too, as he turns his gaze to the picnic skatetable, and.]

[................]

That's. [that's really fucking sweet. it's more than Dave thinks he deserves, cow shit aside. but. surely the replicators wouldn't have ... actually...]

[....................]

[it seems Dave and Ryuji have found themselves in another shituation.]

[and he's kind of having a hard time reading it, to be honest. he's not quite sure if Ryuji is mad at the toast or at him. both would probably be fair?]

Wouldn't the machine have just made whatever you were figuring it was, and not an actual. [you know.]

An actual steaming turd pile wrapped up in a pie plate?

[It's okay, Ryuji will go right for it. Man, of course this would happen to him. Either way, he's effectively considering all the ways to send his skateboard out into space to join its brother out there in the hall of shame vis-a-vis bad food replicator mistakes.]

I dunno and I'm way too goddamned scared to even look.

[So... not everything is exactly perfect, which is pretty unrealistic to think that he could work the finer details out to allow it to be that way, but as he moves his hands upwards across his face, he rubs his eyes and drags downward again.

And starts laughing. At himself. Them. Cow pies, whatever.]

Guess we're gonna have to stick to... just desserts...

[Dave might not be the best person to ask about slang and memes up to early 2009. he has a bad habit of obfuscating with vulgarities.]

oh man
you know how like you sometimes find a bottle of aj in your closet
wait are androids capable of drinking apple juice
well
just say youve got your favorite drink on lock here
and then your best bro messages you and hes like
what if howie mandel just took this giant blue monster piss in your aj dude
and youre trying to block that bullshit out so you can quench your thirst
but stupid fuckin monster howie mandels just this stupid fuckin monster intrusive thought harshing your beverage enjoyment
thats a buzzkill

anyway im the pilot in this hypothetical field trip

[Dave's sort of on the same wavelength, there, because he'll probably later suggest they give the cow pies the usual treatment. except this time it'll allegedly be ... literal shit ... going down the toilet.]

[this is, at least, completely in line with everything else they've done the past few months.]

It's cool, dude. I mean, I'm pretty sure you were giving me a rundown on a whole list of Japanese slang at the same time, and I didn't even throw you a bone on half the shit I was talking about.

Kinda makes me wonder about the other phrases out there that're like that. And I might be wondering about the desserts, too.

I think it's the sorta thing where you don't know until you hit 'em?

[Yeah, this is completely an extension of their uszh. There's a ton of stuff he could try to teach Dave about when it comes to his home, but nothing comes to mind so apparently strong that it strikes him in any direction.

And it gets him to thinking about how different culturally they really are? Ryuji's only really ever known other Japanese people, but standing in a hall filled with pictures of America, those sort of differences are a little more apparent than usual. Not that any of that actually mattered here, up in space, after all. It's not like either of them are shining beacons of the refinements of their respective home environments.]

Aight.

Can I ask my hot American boyfriend to teach me more about his slang, then? [Ryuji smiles, albeit a little sheepishly. Comes up pretty much every time he mentions the b word to begin with, but he's getting better at it for sure.]

Oh, yeah. Dessert. Man, I kinda wish I still had some twizzlers to share with ya, but. Spoiler alert, it's a cupcake. I tried to ask it to, like... draw a heart on it?

[Oh, boy. Biting down on his bottom lip, he shrugs, and bends down to the portable picnic basket he's got going on. Underneath the cloth is what looks like some sort of baked goods pie, but he sure as shit (...) ain't touching that, instead opting for a cupcake in a small container that has a flat, cylindrical displacement of icing.

He pops it open to show Dave, and lo and behold, it... sure is a cupcake. With an anatomically correct looking heart on top of it, scanned in some way like it was 3D printed on.]

...Yeah

Yeah, of course — only if I get to ask to the same of my Japanese boyfriend.

[and he's tinged very slightly pink when he goes ahead and responds in kind. it's for a lot of different reasons, but not being coy with the b word is probably the most blatant one. the instinct to obfuscate his intentions, the urge to hide what he's actually thinking, is always there, but the desire not to right now is overriding it. and it's a word he thinks Ryuji deserves to hear.]

[repeatedly, even. that was just a warmup pitch.]

[but then he's presented with a cupcake with a human heart printed right on it, not unlike one he probably had in a jar on his shelf at some point before he traded up for something even more questionable, and how was Dave Strider not on a government list somewhere?? and, well, he does seem pretty damn fascinated with the replicator's accuracy. Ryuji may or may not think he's struck out with how weirdly the cupcake turned out, but honestly, it's also just about the right level of weird for Dave.]

You ... really put a lot of thought into this, huh? [he doesn't mean it incredulously. if anything, it's surprise in his voice, swirled with the occasional pleased note. birthday dinners on a meteor or birthday gifts in the mail are one thing — having someone think of him enough to put together a space date among photographs of your hometown for no reasons he can surmise other than Ryuji was just thinking of him is ... well.]

[well, one of the other reasons why he's still flushing is probably pretty obvious now.]

[Generally speaking, there's a recipe for getting Ryuji to follow anyone around indefinitely or catch his heart in a box, and it's pretty simple. Something like, one part affection, one part of making him laugh, and one part assuring and validating him. Mix until combined and let sit until room temp. Caution: melts in hands really easily. Anyway, Dave just did all of that in one sweep, again, and he's left standing there, shoulders slumped, posture still abhorrently shitty, and he smiles. Can practically see three music notes jutting the hell right out of his head.

Because, really, the more it happens, the easier it is to just fall into it comfortably and wrap himself right up in it. The easier it is to stop being so hard on himself over the little things, too, like thinking he's going to come up just short of the mark.

Ryuji looks at the heart in his hands, and wow, okay, that's a wild fucking thing to have to think about, and then drives his vision up towards Dave.]

It was just a sentence or two, the replicator's the dumbass that---

[...]

Oh.

[If he's being honest about it, which is pretty much always, then... yeah. He thought about it a good deal; pretty much ever since he found the picture book to begin with. The other details just started filling as time went by, and he found himself building up to an actual date. And maybe Dave's thinking about something along the same lines, but Ryuji just goes right out and says it, unashamed of it as anything he's ever felt or said before.]

Yeah. I think about you, like. All the goddamn time.

[Ryuji'd probably earn himself a longwinded and weird as fuck pep talk that Dave's known for, if he tried to beat himself up over missing a mark, especially right now. he's kind of figuring the cow pies will be even funnier once the moment's passed, when they're done trying really hard to have a moment.]

[and honestly, if something didn't wind up a little, or completely, off tilt at some point during this date, then Dave would probably just as weirded out as the concept of poo pastries themselves will wind up eventually being. maybe when he was younger he was all about playing up how perfect he was at basically everything, using hubris like a buffing to his coolkid armor, but perfect is pretty much the last adjective anyone should use to describe him, or what he actually wants. and the two of them have had enough of those soul-searching sort of talks with each other that he'd most likely find himself having a hard time trying to put that particular wall back up around Ryuji.]

[so, completely weird and actually pretty damn vulgar, but 100% sincere all the same. doesn't get much Stridamoto than that.]

[anyway, Ryuji's not really doing much to help alleviate the flushing.]

I don't meant this in a like, self-centered douchebag of me kinda way, but it shows? I mean ... I know you'll stop me if I start really going off like a fucking moron here, but I've never had someone think of me enough to put together a picture book space date for me. And I'm just hoping I can figure out how I can properly convey, you know. Thanks.

[not entirely true. he's figuring there's at least one thing, but he's still building up the bravery for that.]

And, uh. I think about you a lot, too. Haven't been lucky enough to find any ramen bowls or music shops, though.

[Dave tilts his head slightly, in the direction of the towels.] You wanna sit?

[Oh man, there's a lot in there to unwind when Dave speaks, and a whole lot of things Ryuji wants to say to that in pieces and chunks, but stringing them together would feel like picking them apart. As much as they both are self-admittedly horrible at conveying how they feel, they both find their own groove to do it in front of each other quite a lot.

He's caught dead in his tracks.

Because, it's really fucking weird to be slightly tilt over that string of words. It's not just the boyfriend thing, or the affection, or the way he could pull out a compass and it'd probably point straight to Dave as far as Ryuji's concerned. Think of me enough is what sticks, and a thank you for that is just. It's not even needed. He knows Dave is trying weed through himself when he admits to admitting it's hard to figure out what he wants to say. In a way, that crushing feeling in his chest just grows. If no one's ever thought about him enough to want to do something for him... then that's just really fucking sad. Because he knows that:]

You deserve it. And you don't gotta thank me for anything, either. I wanted to do it... [Because that's how he feels about Dave - and those words are probably hidden in between the lines and the soft expression on his face.] Just, uh. Y'know. Seeing the look on your face is pretty good enough for me.

[Although he absolutely wouldn't turn down a ramen bowl or a trip to the record store. He's not going to let that image in his head go either- an overly optimistic thought that the two of them could one day see Tokyo together, as crazily impossible as that is at this point.]

Yeah.

[He leads the both of them to the towels he set out when first coming here to begin with.]

Wait, so are we like- is this supposed to be the park we're imagining? Swingsets and all that shit. Gotta set a good vibe, y'know? [Ryuji's joking here, but man, that good vibe is already right fucking there.]

[even if, realistically, seeing a hometown by way of photos taped to the windows is the closest they might get to actually visiting, it is kinda nice to keep the idea of tearing up Tokyo together somewhere in the realm of "maybe a possibility." like a little what if to think about when he can't sleep, or if the station's putting them through the wringer and he needs something good to focus on.]

[he wouldn't really blame his friends for how things turned out, though. you put the weight of universal construct on a bunch of barely teenagers a bit lacking in the tools to be emotionally supportive or upfront with each other, and they're bound to find ways to ... you know. struggle with the emotionally supportive and upfront with each other thing. hell, Rose had been several hours late to her own date, and she hadn't even told the other girl she intended it to be a date.]

[and, you don't know what you're missing from spontaneous acts like this one if you've never really had them — and now that he does know, Dave might be leaning toward selfishly eating this up a bit, despite himself. he even manages to bite back the urge to try to say thanks again — because if doing something like this for him makes Ryuji happy, then ... it's pretty much a win-win on all angles, isn't it?]

[so ... eating up the attention it is. he'll share the cupcake, though.]

Yeah, that's fine. [he goes ahead and flops down on one of the towels.]

I can tell you more about the park itself, if you want. I guess I better say more about the hootin' nannies, too.

[...]

[Yeaaah, he's not sure if he got any of that. But he at least understands that a buzzkill is bad.]

Okay...

I thought you weren't capable of piloting? Flying yourself and piloting a ship aren't exactly the same thing.

[Ryuji's not that far behind Dave on the floppage as he settles down in the adjacent towel next to him. There have been so many times when he's sat down here on the observation deck, and although Ryuji isn't a very observational person, it's almost always that he's with someone. It's like standing at an overpass in Shibuya or meeting up with people at the top of the school roof. So many firsts have happened here. A sleepover during the first few weeks with Hajime and Ezra. Coming up here after the first time he's ever had alcohol. Waiting for a zombie virus to finish him off. And now, a first real date.

Pretty cool.

He reclines, flat on his back with both hands behind his head and one foot planted on the ground. The angle gives a good view of the park they're totally in right now, and as he sighs, he figures his misgivings about the hootin' nannies was another thing he probably... misunderstood.]

Awww man... [He teases a little, in that familiar sort of self-deprecating way.] You're like, throwing rocks at all my windows tonight, dude. [The tone of his voice betrays that he's awfully serious about it, but he does look over at Dave. Jerks his head a little bit to call him down here.]

Tell me about the park.

I mean, I'm not intending to cast doubt on the existence of grandmas that hoot like owls as a hobby or whatever. I don't got any right to give little old ladies shit for what they do for fun. That's like. Their own private nan business.

[and that's not what Ryuji asked you, Dave. but he takes the hint and settles down next to him, not quite close enough to use Ryuji's arm as a pillow, but he still doesn't leave a whole lot of distance between them.]

The park, though? It was quiet — not a lot of shade aside from that one line of oak trees, so there weren't a lot of people out there in the middle of the summer. I used to listen to music there a lot. Or just chill. There was a store right across the street, too, so I'd usually go get some apple juice or something if I had cash.

[he folds his hands across his front, swiping through his mental photo feed of those moments. as peaceful as that sounds, he's also never really been one for quiet.]

Don't really know how obvious it is from the photos, but summers can be pretty brutal there. Does it get really hot in Japan?

[If he thinks hard enough, he can almost recall Yoyogi in crystal clear image, albeit a bit blurred from the way that he never spent time just sitting still there when there was jogging to do. The hues of ginko trees in the autumn were always somehow stuck in his recollection of the place, more than the cherry blossoms that exploded into bright pinks during the death of winter.

But Dave's talking about trees, and that's where his mind is at.]

When I used to run back in Yoyogi, I'd always make sure to pass by these trees that had, like, the most goddamn beautiful gold leaves in fall. It was... it was something else, man. Maybe I was so into competing back then that the color reminded me of winning. I never really wanted to go back home after I saw 'em.

[There's a lightness to his voice when he says it, and talking about this is like the time when he was sitting with Dave, listening to music through split earbuds.

That's why you remix songs, right? Getting too attached to something that was supposed to be comforting and looking back at it, years later, to realize that those memories served a self-fulfilling role that had soured the experience. He wishes he could take Dave to see those trees. Top tier skrillex shuffle- breathe life into something he loved and give it a new context. Whether he knew it or not, Dave and him were constantly composing over the notes that had always been there for Ryuji, creating and destroying simultaneously.

And even though Dave had closed a lot of distance between them, Ryuji's thinking that it's not enough as he extends his hand from behind his head to flatten out, encroaching more of their shared space to invite him to go right ahead and use him as a pillow.]

Ohh... yeah. Kinda. There's a thing in Tokyo we call the rainy season. Tsuyu. [He stops for a second, wondering how Dave interpreted the sound of the word he just said. It has a translation, but the connotation isn't the same.] You, uh, you heard that right, right? Tsuyu... it means plum rain. 'Cause that's when plums are the most ripe. That ain't important, though, it's just. It's pretty hot, but the humidity's the worst. From June to July you're practically swimming in your own sweat. Your balls get permanently glued to your leg.

[He's... so eloquent...]

[Shortly before noon, Gundam is standing outside Dave's door. He doesn't knock on the door, since that seems to have ended rather disastrously the last time he did it. He couldn't hear any rites of the occult through his ceiling last night, but--

No. It's not worth another conversation like that.

He can wait. Besides the white toilet paper aesthetic created an interesting contrast against while shrouded in darkness.]

[there's something that's a little bit like wish fulfillment for him here, too — the sort of thoughts he had sitting against one of those big oak trees, catching a hint of a cool breeze in the unforgiving August sun. the ones where he thought about what he'd show his friends if they ever inexplicably wound up in Houston. the places he'd take them, the food they'd probably be interested in trying, if he'd saved up the money.]

[and maybe it doesn't get more inexplicable than lying on a towel on an observation deck, just existing among pictures of Houston instead of actually being there. he goes ahead and accepts that invitation, though, scooting closer and resting his head on Ryuji's arm, right up at his shoulder, leaving exactly zero space between the sides of their bodies.]

Yeah, I get you. Houston's called Texas' scrotum for a reason.

But, it doesn't really have anything like tsuyu. [Dave repeats the word back slowly, sounding it out like he did the occasional troll words back home. moirail. mwah rail... something like that.]

There wasn't like. The usual spread of seasons like the shit you'd see in the movies or anything. It was mostly just shooting fireballs out of your asshole hot, or shooting fireballs out of your asshole hot while raining, or slightly less hot during the last few months of the year.

[and there's something to be said about the connection between remixing and talking about his home, too. like looking at the memories he enjoyed the most, and arranging them so they were the melody, the pieces of him that he wanted Ryuji to hear the most. that's not to say that the things he liked less weren't there — and dissonance has its uses in music, too.]

I never really thought much about the oak trees, though, aside from all the goddamn acorns and the shade. I guess they changed colors, too, but it never was enough for me to notice.

[Gundam is, in fact, in luck today, at least from that angle of potentially embarrassing conversation topics — because lord knows Dave is capable of blurting out some embarrassing shit, regardless of who he's talking to.]

[but maybe five minutes after Gundam arrives, the door opens, and there's the one formerly known as the immortal god of hamster Valhalla. alone, and ready to tackle another simulated day, and.]

[oh.]

Hey.

Hang on a second. [he turns right around, intent on going to the bathroom to pluck the toilet paper roll right off the holder.]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 14 of 19

ic contact for reverienet

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

action; chuu--nnel construction

no subject

YES