[Where was that thought going, Dave Strider? Because Ryuji's natural conclusion was bird dick, here, and he doesn't want to own up to that thought. Even Sakamotos have limits to their own insanity. He scrunches his lips into a thin straight line, though, and hopes that he can't figure out what's going on through his mind.
Yeah, maybe a quiet walk to school would've been better.]
Huh.
[The wheels are churning, and instead of asking if it would be technically cheating if he kissed bird Dave in that realm of tangential realities colliding straight into a black hole, he refrains from doing that very thing.
Putting on his thinking cap, he gets this version of Dave and this splinter where there's a constellation on his shoulders, and that's really more than he could already ask for. After having met two Gundams now, and seeing how he could so easily fuck it up with one of them despite knowing how the other would've reacted, he gets the sense that it's best not to let worlds mingle like that. For everyone's sake.]
Aight, it makes sense. No use thinkin' about it anyway, even if you'd make one hell of a hot mom ninja bird.
[That's not!! the point!! he was supposed!! to make!! Ryuji breaks off to trail ahead of Dave, though, smiling all the same, walking backward, just to make sure he sees his face and how cocky he is about the entire thing.]
'Cause we got our own nest kinda thing goin' on. In like, a metagorical typa way.
[it was not so much bird dick as it was remembering that birds have cloacae!! which may be an even worse thought? it's ... kind of tough to say.]
Metagorical ... hot mom ninja bird.
[why is everything happening so much right now. but in spite of the absolutely cursed direction this conversation has gone in, and despite the unsaid answer to the unspoken question that yeah, he'd probably be pretty miffed if Ryuji started macking on Davesprite, something about the way Ryuji smiles at him, and adds another little metal chunk to a pillar holding up the thing they've got going on here just.]
[well, it gets a smile out of him, too. not a huge grin, mind, but a larger smile than the usual ones that tend to blip across his features in split seconds.]
Man, I don't even know what to do with like. Half of these mental images you just got done painting. Throw 'em up on the walls of the Space Louvre, I guess.
[or at least the walls of the Academy — now that they've arrived.]
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no subject
Yeah, maybe a quiet walk to school would've been better.]
Huh.
[The wheels are churning, and instead of asking if it would be technically cheating if he kissed bird Dave in that realm of tangential realities colliding straight into a black hole, he refrains from doing that very thing.
Putting on his thinking cap, he gets this version of Dave and this splinter where there's a constellation on his shoulders, and that's really more than he could already ask for. After having met two Gundams now, and seeing how he could so easily fuck it up with one of them despite knowing how the other would've reacted, he gets the sense that it's best not to let worlds mingle like that. For everyone's sake.]
Aight, it makes sense. No use thinkin' about it anyway, even if you'd make one hell of a hot mom ninja bird.
[That's not!! the point!! he was supposed!! to make!! Ryuji breaks off to trail ahead of Dave, though, smiling all the same, walking backward, just to make sure he sees his face and how cocky he is about the entire thing.]
'Cause we got our own nest kinda thing goin' on. In like, a metagorical typa way.
no subject
Metagorical ... hot mom ninja bird.
[why is everything happening so much right now. but in spite of the absolutely cursed direction this conversation has gone in, and despite the unsaid answer to the unspoken question that yeah, he'd probably be pretty miffed if Ryuji started macking on Davesprite, something about the way Ryuji smiles at him, and adds another little metal chunk to a pillar holding up the thing they've got going on here just.]
[well, it gets a smile out of him, too. not a huge grin, mind, but a larger smile than the usual ones that tend to blip across his features in split seconds.]
Man, I don't even know what to do with like. Half of these mental images you just got done painting. Throw 'em up on the walls of the Space Louvre, I guess.
[or at least the walls of the Academy — now that they've arrived.]