godbarktier 

Well, he wasn’t dead. That was a start. This was all too much and it was happening too fast. But at the very least he wasn’t alone. Knowing that Bro was out there fighting as well put his mind at ease, even if only a little. But he was still worried about everyone else. Terezi, Aradia, John. And most of all, Jade. 

Dave avoided fighting as much as he could as he rushed towards the sixth sector. The place where he and Jade spent most of their time together. It was the only place he could think of to look for her. And for the moment, it didn’t seem to be overrun with crazies from another world tyring to kill everyone. But no sign of Jade either.

If your last conversation with her was anything to go off of, you two hadn’t left off on the best of terms. You’re more than sure she was desperate to get away from you, but here she is. She hadn’t started walking away from you yet either, maybe you should leave first?--

Too late. You’re already speaking. Goddamn it, Strider.

DAVESPRITE: jade? DAVESPRITE: what the fuck man DAVESPRITE: did they kidnap everyone while i wasn’t looking DAVESPRITE: yall cant go a few minutes without some sort of bullshit happening to you guys can you DAVESPRITE: wait who am i kidding there’s always some sort of shit happening to you guys its kinda unreal tbh DAVESPRITE: i mean... DAVESPRITE: uh

godbarktier

—[ ♟ ]— Bundled up in his own rags, the exile sleeps with head resting upon his clawed hands. Sometimes, he forgets to sleep inside his apartment at night and other times he just prefers to sleep among his cans at his new home, anyway. Curled up into a little ball, the exile twitches as he dreams.

The dream isn't a pleasant one, that's for sure. Rolling around in circles, knocking over aluminum cans in the process, the exile in his sleep creates quite a ruckus. Rolling, rolling, rolling… Tangling himself up in his own rags.

Bump! Eyes flutter open when his body collides with something. His semi-nocturnal vision takes in a tall -- from his vantage point -- figure. He hardly registers the identity of the figure, but those stocking clad legs and red slippers bring about a horrible memory. A nightmare.

He first noticed the dog ears. After, he noticed the shoes. He couldn’t deny how nice it looked. Would he scare them away? The fear of words being said the wrong way always scared him but he pulled through it by 1) saying nothing or 2) taking some time before he comes up with the sentence.

As of right now, it appeared like he was mulling over option two.

     — [♌ ] — You have to do a double-take when the dark-haired, olive-skinned girl walks by -- the animalistic ears protruding from the top of her head make you think she's Blake from behind. But, no! She's one of those humans, you think -- the one Dave described to you, but you didn't actually get to meet. You step up behind her and tap her on the shoulder.