I'm not usin' the good scissors on choppin' up a monkey to make a blanket, dude.
[True, though... it was pretty soft. And it would probably keep him pretty warm, which was nice considering the blankets did actually leave a lot to be desired. The costume wasn't really even that bad, was it?
No, wait, of course that thing was a piece of shit.
He sighs, walking over to take the monkey ears out of Dave's hands, without bothering to ask, because #friends.]
These come from Destinyland. Y'know.
[He gestures, waving as he sings a note or two:] It's a tall world after all~ [Don't do that again, Ryuji.]
I dunno. People always used to say I had the ears of a monkey. Maybe I should just grow into 'em. [For added effect, he balls his fists up and pushes against the backside of his ears, propelling them outward a little bit, and... yeah, the resemblance is kind of there.]
[a lot of very goofy things are happening in front of him right now. but Dave decides he won't comment on the goofiest part, which is the fact that he's genuinely curious to see what Ryuji looks like in the monkey pajamas.]
[there's that word again. "cute." he tries to roll it away with a shrug of his shoulders.]
Eh, I sorta see it, I guess. [you can't catch him, cute thoughts!!]
[in any case, Homestuck never really cared much about copyright infringement, so:]
I get the reference, but on my Earth it was called Disneyland. I've never been, though. Closest thing we had to Disneyland was AstroWorld, but they shut it down when I was still pretty little.
[not that his bro ever bothered to bring him, even though he'd likely asked more than once. Dave got to ride Texas Cyclone exactly once, on a school trip, before they tore it all down. utterly tragic.]
Anyway, was that uh. Getup. The only thing you found?
[This outfit is the sort of thing that he might wear ironically, just to prove a point, just to show the world that he looks dumb in any sort of fashion choice that doesn't allow a proper segmentation of shirt and pants. Ryuji thinks that he has a sense of fashion, but it borders on the questionable side of ridiculousness to begin with. So... maybe. Maybe. If it ever got truly cold enough. But he wouldn't call it "cute," not by a long shot.]
I didn't really ever have a chance to go either. It was kinda too expensive for our family. The one time I got to go was 'cause of Haru. Her dad's corporation booked the entire place for some business event, but it cancelled at the last moment, so we all went instead. Haru, Ren, Yusuke, Makoto... Futaba, Morgana, too.
[He smiles, but it's one that's clearly filled with a little bit of nostalgic pain, one in the same. It's enough to make him look at the monkey ears in his hand, and offer them to Dave.]
It's a honestly one of those couples' paradise places to go though, honestly.
[Oh, other stuff. Right. He should look in the cupboard now that the monkey costume is gone, since there are regular clothes there, scrunched up. An outfit from his future, a timeline that hasn't happened yet. But instead, he'll try to avoid the romance novel that's tucked under his pillow in somewhat plain sight if someone were apt enough to examine, and instead mention the application that downloaded on his smartwatch.]
Does your smartwatch have a meTunes player? I found these headphones under my desk the other day, and they can connect to my watch wirelessly. Funny thing is, my watch has my entire mp3 library from home on it.
[he has plenty of other questions, as he takes the monkey ears back as they're offered. like, for instance, did that mean they basically had the whole park to themselves? did they try to climb off the boat on Tall World and punch one of the animatronics? Dave, uh. Dave definitely would have. he would have been kicked out of Destinyland instantly. also, what exactly does he mean by couples' paradise?]
[so, they're some pretty important questions. but they go unasked, because that line of thought, that tone of the conversational rhythm they'd been walking through, is halted like a record scratch. and he lights up like the fucking Main Street Electrical Parade, exactly like how he did when he first found the apple.]
Wait, you have all your music?
[Dave hasn't heard actual music that isn't by his own design, whether it was drumming on the tables in the mess hall out of nervous energy, or whether he was really feeling the acoustics in the shower, in two entire months. the idea of hearing something new is, at the risk of sounding entirely lame, literally music to his ears.]
[He would definitely take the time to answer all those questions, too. Destinyland was practically a staple of Tokyo, and it was very, very much a place where parents take their kids, and people take their dates. Pretty much no medium in between. And if he wanted to bust up some puppets, he'd probably have to answer to the Man, but screw the Man, the Man don't got shit on them.
Noticing that Dave had literally perked the fuck up at the mention of his meTunes library being here, he nods, not quite understanding how important music actually was to the other. Sure, he knew he had a penchant for rapping- and as he looks at his shirt, he realizes that looks like a record and it kind of fits... into place. Belatedly, as usual.]
Yeah! You... uh. You wanna hear?
[It's a question that probably doesn't even need an affirmative answer, so he walks over to the desk and picks up the headphones that he had found, goes to turn the application on to sync them up to his smartwatch and boots up the program.
Another sweep of motion, a turn on his heels, and he's approaching, again, breaking the whole idea or concept of personal space to lean forward and just... put one of the buds straight into his ear.]
Here, gimme that shit, I'll put it back in the cupboard where it'll stay until the end of time. [And just as he looks down, he presses play. His taste in music is pretty much what someone would expect out of Ryuji- old rock, some punk, occasional things that are more cute than heavy, and then some indie bands from back home that he had gotten into. But Dave gets some Bon Jovi, because. Why not.]
[You like to rave about BANDS NO ONE'S EVER HEARD OF BUT YOU.]
[that's not to say that Dave isn't a fan of the classics — he'll listen to pretty much anything that has a good sound to it, regardless of genre, he just usually finds himself drawn to the likes of Snoop Dogg and hip-hop sort of beats.]
[and glam metal? absolutely. besides, who hasn't heard of Bon Jovi? he knows exactly what song he's hearing from that first gust of wind and chimes, and the second the twang of guitar hits with the familiar riff that sent it skyrocketing to the top of the Billboards, he's thinking this might actually be the best thing he's heard in months.]
[and, Dave really can't help himself here — he just breaks into one of the biggest smiles he's worn in ages, face completely lit up by the fact that he's finally hearing some fucking music again, and not just whatever random notes pop into his head in the silence of the space station. and he loves it.]
[There was definitely some hip hop in there, but it was pretty mainstream Japanese; M-Flo, Home Made Kazoku, Teriyaki Boyz- but that really wasn't too much in his style. There's some sort of social experiment to be had here, too, since their native languages were entirely different, yet they seemed to communicate fine here through the shared common tongue that everyone seemed to have. He remembers hearing that someone could write the language that they were speaking and the other person wouldn't recognize the alphabet, but Ryuji hasn't really had to put pen to paper yet to test that out. And would that also mean that Ryuji would suddenly start understanding English songs that he had downloaded and listened to, but never really got much more than how good things sounded?
But all of that doesn't really seem to matter either way. He's never really cared too much for linguistics or studying much of anything to begin with, nah- not his tempo either- but quickly, something else has caught his attention and taken complete, utter control of it, freezing him and his frown in place.
What was he supposed to do? Something with the pajamas. The cupboard? Right. It was supposed to go in there.
It's just hard to do much of anything but be a bystander to his own his heart at the moment, because seeing Dave smile like that... it's the type of thing that can paralyze a person in place. This is probably it, the moment. What type of moment? Really hard to say, honestly, but it's a sort of glass shattering realization that he wants to see him smile like that as much as humanly possible. And falling for Dave was like filling a bowl with ramen right up to the edge, right near the curved lip, where one more drop was enough to make everything start pouring over, all at once.
He realizes he looks dumb, standing there, doing nothing at all but watching this, the room seeming to blur into the background as Bon Jovi is lightly heard through one half of a pair of headphones, so he reaches forward, taking the other, unoccupied half and places it in his own ear.
It's easy to forget how music makes you feel things when you haven't listened to it in a while. And when he hears the music inside his own head, he winds up smiling too.]
[sharing a pair of headphones to listen to whatever's playing isn't at all foreign an activity to him, so he doesn't really think too much at first on how they're just standing close together silently, shoulders lightly bumping.]
[and there's an undercurrent of energy there, just under the surface, even when he lets that larger smile of his relax into something more low-key, as he does. it's a lot of excitement, admittedly, over a song with a much more sedate sort of tempo. maybe it's the way that an activity that feels so familiar to him is crashing into newer feelings he can't really place, much less figure out what to do with. it's like a sudden storm of tension has lodged itself in his chest.]
[it's not really a bad thing. Dave would stand here and listen to every single song on this playlist in their entirety, if Ryuji would let him. he wants to know more about his taste in music. he wants to hear everything that's he's never heard before. he wants to know more about Tokyo, and what it was like living there — and, maybe even more importantly than the music, he wants to know more about Ryuji's life in general.]
[there's about a thousand other things he'd like to know, too, and they're thoughts he's having at a rapid-fire pace, but his silent lineup of questions is cut short when the song draws to a close, and it suddenly occurs to Dave that yeah, they ... sure are standing awfully close together.]
[he should step away. he doesn't. he lifts his chin slightly, glancing at Ryuji out of the side of his shades, choosing not to hide his gaze behind them for once, as if to ask if he's going to pick another song, or say something, or.]
[Or do something brave, reckless. Sweep him off his feet. Say the magic words that have pretty much lived on the tip of his tongue, only to climb back down to a death in his throat when he thinks it might be the right time to say it. I like you- it's easy. It's three little words, right? Why is it, then, in the history of all words that had ever existed, was that specific ordering, the algorithm behind them, just so incredibly difficult to get through? Ryuji can banter on for days about literally anything in the world- how boring solitaire is, what it was like to steal a heart, having oboners over Obama, how fucking gross the cafeteria food was- and when he's left in the wake of something like this, it just comes short of making the mark.
Feelings are pretty hard. Talking about feelings are harder.
And he sees Dave looking up at him expecting some sort of response, because he's quite literally living through the concept of facing the music, Ryuji feels like his heart has sped up, rattling in the cage of his chest. Awkward now, that there's a quiet moment, and the capacity to do something he wants to do, and they're so close like this. He's not stepping away, though, and is that... shit, is that supposed to mean something?
He looks over slowly, and- oh. Dude. That just... that's not fair, either.]
You have eyes. Uh. Nice.
[Wait a second, that didn't make a single ounce of fucking sense at all, and as he feels his cheeks burn in the light of his own stupidity, he wonders if correcting himself would make it sound worse? Probably. Why. Okay, take a moment, unscramble. It was meant to be a compliment, not a statement of biological fact.]
I mean... I-- uh. You have nice eyes.
[That's b...etter.... kind of. Except for the fact that now that he's said it, he cant look at them at all. He hopes it's not too weird of a thing to say? It probably is. It definitely is. He was better off at You have eyes, and instead, he just focuses on picking another song instead. And if Dave doesn't nope the hell right out of this already, the Rolling Stones' Time is On My Side starts playing. He picked it because it had "time" in the title before it starts going and man, is he filled with mistakes tonight.]
[oh... that hits him like a jolt, that bit of an electric shock one gets when hearing something really unexpected, but also something ... something he doesn't necessarily mind hearing? it's not unwanted. he's sort of getting the tiniest impression that Ryuji is very awkwardly trying to flirt with him, and he doesn't mind that at all, and that's sort of the last emotional reaction to it he'd expect out of himself, and maybe. maybe he doesn't actually understand a goddamn thing about any of this at all.]
[and that all jumbles up in his head in a way that makes his face feel hot, too, though most of it might be hidden behind the shades. and the words that slip out of the trainwreck that is his brain right now —]
I ... yeah.
[— wind up just as awkward, and unintentionally a bit dick-ish. oh god, he didn't mean that rudely! Dave's usually so good at being cool about everything, deflecting when something gets to him, one way or the other. but it's like every time he hangs out with Ryuji, he chips off more of that coolkid emotional armor he's wearing, and Dave is unconsciously terrified that when he pulls back that last barrier, tears down that last wall he's hiding behind, Ryuji will wind up hating the person he finds.]
[he should say something else. very belatedly, while mentally sifting through their previous conversations for something to draw on, Dave realizes that he'd accidentally referred to himself as Ryuji's Lois Lane. and suddenly, he'd very much like to just waltz through an airlock and live on the top of the space station.]
[jesus christ, Dave, say something!]
I mean ... you do, too? If I'm being honest.
[there's no air or sound in the vacuum of space. and out there, no one could hear how terrible this is.]
[he takes something of a half step away, even more cognizant of how close they're standing to each other, but then the music starts again, and Dave freezes in place, getting at least one answer to a question that had been reeling through his mind earlier. and unabashedly (in)appropriate that the song pick is, it's also drowning out the way his heart is pounding frantically in his ears.]
So. Classic rock, then. [it's both a statement and a question, and an effort to diffuse the tension. he still wants to know pretty much everything about Ryuji's taste in music.]
[It's a bit of a roller coaster ride, going through the ups and downs of this entire thing, but worse, because it's completely in the dark and hard to tell where the track is supposed to lead toward. He hears the "yeah" and for a second, he holds in his breath, knowing full well that he done goofed this entire thing and now the coaster was probably careening into a wall. If anything, he has no idea about the synapses that are currently scrambling to find their own relays in Dave's head, feeling that all too familiar sensation of doing or saying something superfluously unnecessary.
Ryuji definitely doesn't have a coolkid exterior armor to fall back on when things go south. He's a pin cushion with a core that narrowly avoids being poked when a needle drives into him, but with tough enough skin to endure the entire surface being punctured while still dragging forward. And when there's nothing left to give, he just hopes that whatever's pulled back beneath all of that is still worth someone's affection.
Easy enough to tell, then, when Ryuji's expression changes to bewilderment when Dave ends up eventually saying that to him. He has a hard time seeing his own worth sometimes in the darkness of uncertainty, and... damn. This is terrifying and weird, yet also incredibly, sorely wanted. Embarrassing, too, that he'd build an entire castle out of a grain of sand if he thought it were worth the effort. And Dave definitely was.
He's kind of glad for a change of topic, because he's not sure what he's supposed to say in response to that because "yeah..." seems exactly like something he'd utter out, or something far, far worse that would be construed as less-than-subtle flirting. He doesn't really have any slickness here, and when he honest to god tries to, it comes out way below anything alluring or coy. It's those three words again- it's how he'd do it. Earnest, blunt, to the point.
No use dwelling in it, though. He can worry about this interaction later when he's wondering if it went how it was meant to go or whether or not he could've done something better. Well, aside from the whole You have eyes part. That was pretty god-awful.]
Yeah. Led Zeppelin, AC/DC, The Clash, The Kinks, Journey... I'm kinda a sucker for the old style. Even though it's pretty cliche, the Beatles are pretty cool in my book, too. You think back to those sort of songs and how... y'know. Effin rebellious they were. Imagine a time when sayin' something like "I wanna hold your hand" was pretty much the most punk thing ever. I like modern stuff too, but... yeah.
[At least this conversation seems pretty safe. He's still kind of swimming in the fact that Holy shit, Dave Strider said I have nice eyes too.]
[music absolutely is a safe topic with Dave. he lives and breathes music. it's stitched into the complex fabric of who he is, just as much as time itself is. that's not really all that strange, as much as he like to complain about the latter part of himself. time has a rhythm to it, a beat and a base language that's understood, easily perceived by everyone. to mess with that, to change up that rhythm and the expectations that come with it, is to cause dissonance. sometimes it's necessary, a good thing. more often than not it's as unnatural as it sounds.]
[there's something amused threatening the corners of his mouth, like he might just fully smile again, listening to Ryuji rattle off of his favorite big hair bands, his pulse and the heat of the earlier moments settling down to their normal tempos. because of course Ryuji would love all these old-school rebels. he'd probably even dig their fashion sense, too — actually, now that Dave thinks about it, he'd probably just straight up rock them if he had the chance. if he's reading Ryuji right.]
[....... hm. anyway.]
Kinda makes me wish I had my computer with me. Got lots of stuff in my library you'd probably like.
[and when they run out of music, he could just remix everything. the possibilities are endless. they always are.]
[Makes sense- music was often full of refrains that have you going back to other parts of the song, and even if the beat is the same, the lyrics are different. Kind of like time travel, in a way. And if Dave is made of either or both, then Ryuji would put that playlist on shuffle and just listen, drumming his fingers along to the cadence that it provides.
And probably- the only problem was that school was pretty much a 6 day a week affair for kids in Japan, which meant that 85% of his life was spent figuring out how to take a traditional school uniform and butcher it so that it was more his style. Suspenders thrown off his shoulder and worn like accessories to his hips, pins on his blazer, white keds with patterns drawn on in marker, t-shirts that didn't match at all. Maybe not the rock image Dave was expecting, but, he put up enough of a stink so that the teachers stopped trying to bother correcting his attire.]
I'm gonna guess that your library prolly needs its own external hard drive. [He points to Dave's shirt, just to make the obvious point even more obvious.]
But yeah. Music's music. I'd give just about anything a try as long as it's got a good vibe.
[It would be cool, just to stay up listening to stuff he's never heard before. Realize that it'd probably been hours since they started. End up sleeping for an hour or two before the environmental lighting came back up to alert them that it was simulated daytime.]
What're you into, anyway?
[This feels a lot more like their usual rhythm. It was like going from experimental back to jazz. And even if there wasn't a sheet music and it was off the roller coaster rails, it wasn't... well, it wasn't that bad.]
Same as you, pretty much. I like anything that sounds good, but rap's my favorite. And if I don't like the way something sounds, I just remix it until I do.
[it puts the record on his shirt that Ryuji's so astutely noticed into even more perspective, at least. and, to continue the metaphor, remixing a timeline until it's something he deems acceptable is easily within Dave's capabilities, too. of course, changing the flavor of a song doesn't leave you dead, usually. but that's neither here nor there.]
[he'd love the idea of just chilling and listening to whatever, having some quiet time to fit in with their usual banter, or their usually bizarre choices in activities, or even the moments they find themselves approaching subjects far more serious — all within the same day, the same conversations, the hours spent together. and standing there, it suddenly occurs to him that that's exactly what they could be doing.]
Mind if I stick around and listen for a while? You pick the music.
[now that the question's out there, he suddenly feels ... well, really awkward about it. his ears are suddenly burning. Dave's not sure why, exactly — it's not like he just asked the guy on a date, or something.]
[There was enough music on his watch collected over the years, transferred from one laptop to the next, to last a good deal amount of time. Which is good, considering there's so much of it on their hands. Maybe somewhere along the way he'll figure out a mix tape or something. Not that he could burn it onto something or anything- they'd just have to do something like this, sharing a pair of earbuds and
Wait, that was really corny. Why is he being so corny? When did this start happening to him? Flushing that sort of thought trail out of his head, his eyebrows perk upward.]
Yeah. 'Course. Can't think of anything better I'd wanna do.
[They're disasters, the both of them. He pulls the earbud out of his own ear and looks around the room. It'd be awkward to continue just standing there for the duration of this- so that leaves one of the beds? Ren's would feel kind of wrong, and then... Ryuji's would feel... oh god.
Oh god.
Maybe they should settle on the floor. Why didn't these places have couches? Wait, no, he'll make Dave pick. That way he doesn't have to feel the warmth in his cheeks flare up directly as he scuffles through the choice.]
Pick a place to get comfy?
[He looks down at his watch, trying to figure out what's next on the playlist for the evening. He lands on the Smiths this time, changing up the sound from before. Ryuji knows this one is one of the more popular ones, but he still likes it nonetheless. The first verse kicks off: "Take me out tonight, where there's music and there's people, and they're young and alive, driving in your car, I never, never want to go home, because I haven't got one anymore."
[this is most definitely not a date. nope. they're just hanging out listening to music, in the close proximity that's required when sharing a pair of headphones.]
[at some point in the future, should this path they're wandering down end up somewhere far more flushed, Dave's own words are probably going to come back to haunt him, as they always do. they could be wandering around the station in goddamn matching Four Aces Suited tuxedos, up to the same shenanigans they always are, sprinkled with held hands and sitting around completely comfortably in each other's personal spaces, "and you would still be all coy like IS IT A DATE OR ISNT IT HMMMM WHO CAN REALLY SAY FOR SURE???"]
[disasters, indeed. that's all unless, of course, three words manage to finally escape first. tear the curtain down and leave no questions between them unanswered.]
[the lyrics themselves don't really hit him as hard as the music itself does at first, and maybe that's a bit of luck in Ryuji's favor. that might be because he's having the exact frantic thought process, now that the onus is on him to find a spot to sit, and perhaps even more luckily, he manages to land on somewhere that's not completely humiliating:]
Floor's fine. [he says, his gaze on the wall near the beds. it's not a soft pile of things like one might find on the meteor, which might have embarrassing connotations of its own, he might think in retrospect, but it's familiar to him all the same. so he steps over, settling himself down, drawing his knees to his chest.]
[and that's when the lines start bleeding through, the "take me anywhere, I don't care, I don't care, I don't care," is another jolt straight to his heart, and he very nearly blurts out a question, if Ryuji can see right fucking through him or something. but he barely manages not to. and he just waits for Ryuji to join him.]
[was there something almost a bit nervous in his expression just then? nah, it was probably just the lighting.]
[That's a good choice. Safe. Clear from any sort of bed, where unscrupulous thoughts could ever be entertained... or at least, he thinks. There's always the non-zero chance that Ryuji will still say or do something more than he intends to, like shaking up a bottle of coke and letting the lid loose just a little bit as some of the carbonation fizzes out with small squeaks. Maybe that's how this is supposed to go? He doesn't know. Akira told him to just go for it, to make himself known, but he still has no freaking clue about any of this. It's so far removed from his realm of things that he considers comfortable and known, so he's going to do his best to wing it. And if more and more of that pressure starts building, he'll just have to let some air escape. Maybe try flirting again.
The only thing that should really be flushed about this entire exchange is probably Ryuji. Right down the toilet, so he can join his burrito nemesis in space.]
Cool.
[Is it though?
Ryuji settles to move up to his bed anyway, grabbing his blanket off the top bunk. He doesn't know if this is necessarily wanted, or even needed, but there's a certain... je ne sais quoi about it. Almost like it gives a little bit of security. Like it's a... security blanket. And then finds a spot next to Dave with it balled up into its standard issued shittery. Sitting down cross legged, he points to the heap of sheets with one hand, like yo, this okay? and starts stretching it out anyway. Might as well get comfortable or something. Pull back his earbud and slide into music town, population, these two dorks.]
I uh... I like this song. [Just as it starts to wind down into the last phrase being driven home over and over again. And then, the realization hits that it's pretty... on topic. He should be more upset by it, but whatever, he's beginning to resign himself to being embarrassing and unsubtle.]
Er. Do you want me to pick somethin' more cheery next? Or... shit, I dunno. You can see my library if you want, it's still got some pretty embarrassin' stuff in there. [He holds out his arm to show Dave his watch, in case he did want to take a look... or whatever, he can just slam on another one instead.]
[welp, this is sort of taking a turn he wasn't expecting at all — so basically, it's pretty much exactly like how this entire thread has been going for him. and before he can really give an answer, the blanket's draped over his shoulders, like they're two dorks at summer space camp, holing up under a blanket way past lights out and telling ghost stories. or reading a book. or listening to music.]
[is that what this is? some sort of space camp? is he, one day, going to go back home, memories of this whole experience in tow, and be that one ghost kid who keeps bringing up "that one time at space camp..." and. oh god. god, Dave, please stop thinking for a goddamn second for once in your life.]
[this was his idea; he did ask to stay. and he's always sort of found it a bit brisk inside anyway, as a kid hailing from hot-as-fuck Texas, and from a quest planet that was literally made of lava. so, even though he's a bit surprised by the gesture, he maybe also finds himself more surprised with the fact that he's pretty cool with it. well, warmed, more literally. shit, let's be space camp dorks.]
[and Dave realizes, after his train of thought careens off into god-knows where, pauses at a station that makes terrible '90s movies references, and slowly lurches back to reality, that Ryuji asked him a question. right. all right, something new to focus on sounds good. he is all about the focus.]
Define embarrassing. [because that's what he's chosen to focus on, apparently, leaning closer so he can get a better look at the watch. aside from him. he knows he's embarrassing.]
[It wouldn't be so bad, either way. A salute to Salute Your Shorts; hell, Ryuji even has the nerf guns to go along with it, and there was always a game of capture the flag that could've erupted in the midst of these super serious adults who were busy drinking and/or lamenting their existence in general. Sad, then, to use that as a metaphor for any of this exchange, since camp in general is supposed to ephemeral. You go for a few weeks, have some fun, tell stories, do some arts and crafts, and then head back to school in a few weeks. That line of thinking doesn't come to Ryuji, though- he lives too much in the present to think about what's going to happen in a nebulous future of events that haven't come to pass yet. He doesn't even know what he's going to eat for breakfast tomorrow, let alone trying to figure out or triangulate the exact moment of their departure from this station.
Unless, of course, this really is a permanent kind of thing. It's a dangerous thought- being here for the rest of his life. Two months in, everything becomes a little bit too much of a routine. Eventually, he'll have known his new friends here as long as he's known his friends from home, and that... wow, that's a pretty weird thing to come across.
But presently, Ryuji is trying not to think too much about how close Dave is like this. It would be way, way too goddamn easy to just do the Movie Date Thing where he reaches around and lays an arm around his shoulder- which, honestly, is something Ryuji would do anyway, any time, any place. But the added context here makes their positions all the more apparent and meaningful in ways that he doesn't really comprehend how to handle. So he doesn't. He gives up trying to stop being flustered. It's not worth it to ruin how simple and easy this really should be.
Hey, earth (??? this isn't earth), to Dave. What are you thinking about up there? Ryuji turns his face to see the other, smiling contentedly. And as his thoughts accelerate at a speed of r/s2 (references per second squared), Ryuji waves the watch a little bit to ensure that he's still looking.
Oh. There he is.]
I mean. Y'know. Catchy pop tunes! Themes to anime. [He scrolls by the theme song to Ponyo and raises an eyebrow.] Like this one. [He laughs, catching himself. Oh man, does he need to see his love for mecha anime theme songs too? That's pretty damning.]
[and living in the present is something he'd been so adamant about doing for this long, even if he instinctively comes back to thoughts about the past or the future, or if the world has a funny habit of reminding him he's got the weight of time on his shoulders.]
[but as hard as it is to admit, none of that actually matters here, who knows how many light years or universes away from the broken session he'd left behind. if he'd been a different Dave, maybe, he would have gotten the message already: none of that, nothing that happens in the alpha timeline, is his business anymore. it's time to move on.]
[if there's only one thing that Ryuji could do for him, it's help get that message across to him. shed that particular set of baggage and really live in the moment, and be at peace with that. and, sitting there, watching Ryuji scroll through the more embarrassing parts of his playlist, it feels an awful lot like Dave is getting there. shitty space station camp with its shitty space-issued blankets, toilet ghosts, regular old ghosts and everything.]
[huh. maybe he can actually pull off the Dave of Guy look after all.]
That one. Got it.
[naturally, he's going to reach over and hit play on that Ponyo song. he's never heard it before, and has no idea what could be so embarrassing about it — and he's starting to feel comfortable enough in this situation to start being obnoxious again.]
Edited (dont mind me changing up dialogue ) 2018-07-04 04:15 (UTC)
[Just like that, it changes over into a subsection of strings rising in a campy melody, veering in contrast stark from any of the songs played before it. Ryuji tries to keep his face straight throughout it as it starts to chug along, a young girl's voice singing absurdly about a fish child with a big, round belly. Admittedly, he loved this movie, but he couldn't really understand why. Mostly, it was just cute. He was only 9 or 10 when it came out, and there's a story attached to it that's equally reminiscent of a childhood that's also pretty... tonally shifted from the person he was today.
He'll sing along, though. His voice isn't horrible, but it definitely isn't great either. And about half a verse in, he can't do this anymore, and he gives up, laughing at himself and how horrible it is.]
I saw this movie when I was a kid. It's about a magic fish who meets a boy and decides to become human, but all this shit goes down and makes it really hard. [He's practically talking over the song now, but it's a good story, and maybe Dave wouldn't mind hearing it?] Her dad doesn't want her to, though, and enlists her mom in helping keep her in fish form. So he gives the boy a test, that if he can pass, the fish girl can become a human. But she'll lose all her magic. And her mom asks the boy if he can love Ponyo whether she's a fish or not and he tells her that he does.
[The explanation outlives the song, and it goes quiet for a second as Ryuji finishes the story.]
And he kisses her and she turns into a human. Anyway, I dunno if it's still like... a good movie, or I just really enjoyed going to the theater with my mom and getting so sick from eating an entire tub of popcorn. Either way, it was pretty rad.
[this is the guy who outcheesed a literal cheese shop, in Dave's own words — you'd think he'd be used to Ryuji's antics, like busting out into goofy songs about fish, even if the guy can't keep a straight face to save his life.]
[actually, he is. which is why that outburst is met only with a bit of a smirk.]
Oh, so he was dating a fish. Got it.
[Dave...]
That doesn't really sound all that embarrassing to me. I mean — no, eating popcorn until you puke is pretty embarrassing.
But, I always figured having dumb songs like this one handy just meant you have a thought you really like attached to it. Kinda like looking into the past without having to deal with the bullshit of actually going there. I've got weird stuff in my library for the same reason.
[that might seem oddly sentimental. but that's always been how important music is to him — it's both something he loves and, when times were unbearably bad, a way to remember times that weren't.]
[You asked for it, Dave. If you're going to dismantle one of his childhood faves, you're grabbing the bull by its horns, and that bull is the treasure trove of absolutely shitty puns that he could drop at any moment.
He pushes his lips to the side and bunches up his cheek when Dave admits to him being embarrassing. He knows he is. He said he is. It didn't have to be a spoken affirmation.]
I have a sensitive stomach, okay?
[Which is kind of ridiculous since he lived off a diet of konbeni and fast food fixes; the lap of luxury that's precisely provided by a single mom who worked two jobs and was rarely home long enough to cook dinner for the both of them. At least he learned some basic cooking skills out of the deal. He's not (totally) useless.
And to get out of this vicious cycle of Disney-esque ditties, he presses play down on a rock song from his home language- Clock Strikes by One Ok Rock.]
I uh... get what you mean. Sometimes the opposite's true though, too. There are songs you just can't listen to anymore 'cause it reminds you of times that you don't wanna remember... [He's not about to ruin the mood here, but generally speaking, it was nice to listen to music to drown out the sounds of his father screaming at his mother. There were just some things he couldn't listen to anymore because he wasn't in that state of being any longer and looking back, it's not comforting as much as it was just sad. But he won't delete those songs from his library either.]
But. Yeah. It's kinda cool. You make a little house for all these good things you attach to the stuff that makes you feel good. Something you can decorate just by yourself and live in for a while when you're down and surround yourself in good vibes.
[Yeah, they're absolutely on the same page with that.]
[i'm gonna throw another charlie brown drawing at you for that pun i stg]
[he doesn't really have anything to say to that, though. it's true that he's used music as something of a means of escape, building a place to be surrounded by good vibes, attaching himself to something he loves to forget everything he hated about his life back home. but after a while, the fact that a song is meant to play that role becomes attached to it, too, which is souring in its own way.]
[maybe that's just another reason why he spends so much time remixing everything.]
[Dave stretches his legs out, sinking just slightly against the wall. he's not upset; if anything, he's relaxing, finding a comfort in the fact that there's just one more idea they both seem to value, one more thing they've got in common. and, he's just listening.]
Thanks, by the way. For letting me listen. [embarrassing shit and all. you can tell a lot about a person from the music they keep handy. even the Ponyo song carried a lot of meaning that was easily gleaned.]
Might be biased over here, but I'm thinking you got one of the best ghost gifts so far, easily. It even edges out the monkey pajamas.
You're thankin' me? [A small turn of his lips upward in response to that- he thought it was pretty obvious that there didn't need to be thank yous or your welcomes to this sort of thing, but he'll allow it. Hell, he'll even knock shoulders with Dave to reinforce the sarcasm here. It's no big deal. Or maybe it is kind of a deal, indeterminate in size, but Ryuji's chill enough with... whatever this is, really. It's just a Saturday night (every night's a weekend here), almost like he was back in Tokyo in his little cramped bedroom. The familiarity of everything here makes the artificial walls feel less cold and lifeless.
He lets out a throaty hnn..., a vestige of his own native language used when you're basically agreeing with something, but the economy of words needed to do so was strong enough to be conveyed by a sound rather than a spoken something instead. He gets to thinking about home for a moment, and rather than the normal levels of homesickness that it implies, he starts wondering some hypotheticals. If Dave were back there, and he was, and if they had known each other, what would this look like? Would it be different? Would they have gotten close like this or was everything just perpetuated by the situational morass that the terminal had to offer? Would he be trying to stifle down the way he feels about him?
He lets his head lean up against the wall behind him. Even in simple things there are layers of complexity if you go deeper into the things that make them up. But might as well talk about it rather than play around with the idea of talking about it.]
You think you'd ever... uh. Wanna see Tokyo one day? I mean. Like. Hypothetically speaking. I know it's kinda dumb to think gettin' off this station's happenin' anytime soon. But I'd wanna take you to an arcade. Or maybe one of those music halls where DJ's spin music live time.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[True, though... it was pretty soft. And it would probably keep him pretty warm, which was nice considering the blankets did actually leave a lot to be desired. The costume wasn't really even that bad, was it?
No, wait, of course that thing was a piece of shit.
He sighs, walking over to take the monkey ears out of Dave's hands, without bothering to ask, because #friends.]
These come from Destinyland. Y'know.
[He gestures, waving as he sings a note or two:] It's a tall world after all~ [Don't do that again, Ryuji.]
I dunno. People always used to say I had the ears of a monkey. Maybe I should just grow into 'em. [For added effect, he balls his fists up and pushes against the backside of his ears, propelling them outward a little bit, and... yeah, the resemblance is kind of there.]
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[there's that word again. "cute." he tries to roll it away with a shrug of his shoulders.]
Eh, I sorta see it, I guess. [you can't catch him, cute thoughts!!]
[in any case, Homestuck never really cared much about copyright infringement, so:]
I get the reference, but on my Earth it was called Disneyland. I've never been, though. Closest thing we had to Disneyland was AstroWorld, but they shut it down when I was still pretty little.
[not that his bro ever bothered to bring him, even though he'd likely asked more than once. Dave got to ride Texas Cyclone exactly once, on a school trip, before they tore it all down. utterly tragic.]
Anyway, was that uh. Getup. The only thing you found?
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I didn't really ever have a chance to go either. It was kinda too expensive for our family. The one time I got to go was 'cause of Haru. Her dad's corporation booked the entire place for some business event, but it cancelled at the last moment, so we all went instead. Haru, Ren, Yusuke, Makoto... Futaba, Morgana, too.
[He smiles, but it's one that's clearly filled with a little bit of nostalgic pain, one in the same. It's enough to make him look at the monkey ears in his hand, and offer them to Dave.]
It's a honestly one of those couples' paradise places to go though, honestly.
[Oh, other stuff. Right. He should look in the cupboard now that the monkey costume is gone, since there are regular clothes there, scrunched up. An outfit from his future, a timeline that hasn't happened yet. But instead, he'll try to avoid the romance novel that's tucked under his pillow in somewhat plain sight if someone were apt enough to examine, and instead mention the application that downloaded on his smartwatch.]
Does your smartwatch have a meTunes player? I found these headphones under my desk the other day, and they can connect to my watch wirelessly. Funny thing is, my watch has my entire mp3 library from home on it.
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[so, they're some pretty important questions. but they go unasked, because that line of thought, that tone of the conversational rhythm they'd been walking through, is halted like a record scratch. and he lights up like the fucking Main Street Electrical Parade, exactly like how he did when he first found the apple.]
Wait, you have all your music?
[Dave hasn't heard actual music that isn't by his own design, whether it was drumming on the tables in the mess hall out of nervous energy, or whether he was really feeling the acoustics in the shower, in two entire months. the idea of hearing something new is, at the risk of sounding entirely lame, literally music to his ears.]
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Noticing that Dave had literally perked the fuck up at the mention of his meTunes library being here, he nods, not quite understanding how important music actually was to the other. Sure, he knew he had a penchant for rapping- and as he looks at his shirt, he realizes that looks like a record and it kind of fits... into place. Belatedly, as usual.]
Yeah! You... uh. You wanna hear?
[It's a question that probably doesn't even need an affirmative answer, so he walks over to the desk and picks up the headphones that he had found, goes to turn the application on to sync them up to his smartwatch and boots up the program.
Another sweep of motion, a turn on his heels, and he's approaching, again, breaking the whole idea or concept of personal space to lean forward and just... put one of the buds straight into his ear.]
Here, gimme that shit, I'll put it back in the cupboard where it'll stay until the end of time. [And just as he looks down, he presses play. His taste in music is pretty much what someone would expect out of Ryuji- old rock, some punk, occasional things that are more cute than heavy, and then some indie bands from back home that he had gotten into. But Dave gets some Bon Jovi, because. Why not.]
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[that's not to say that Dave isn't a fan of the classics — he'll listen to pretty much anything that has a good sound to it, regardless of genre, he just usually finds himself drawn to the likes of Snoop Dogg and hip-hop sort of beats.]
[and glam metal? absolutely. besides, who hasn't heard of Bon Jovi? he knows exactly what song he's hearing from that first gust of wind and chimes, and the second the twang of guitar hits with the familiar riff that sent it skyrocketing to the top of the Billboards, he's thinking this might actually be the best thing he's heard in months.]
[and, Dave really can't help himself here — he just breaks into one of the biggest smiles he's worn in ages, face completely lit up by the fact that he's finally hearing some fucking music again, and not just whatever random notes pop into his head in the silence of the space station. and he loves it.]
cw: sappy
But all of that doesn't really seem to matter either way. He's never really cared too much for linguistics or studying much of anything to begin with, nah- not his tempo either- but quickly, something else has caught his attention and taken complete, utter control of it, freezing him and his frown in place.
What was he supposed to do? Something with the pajamas. The cupboard? Right. It was supposed to go in there.
It's just hard to do much of anything but be a bystander to his own his heart at the moment, because seeing Dave smile like that... it's the type of thing that can paralyze a person in place. This is probably it, the moment. What type of moment? Really hard to say, honestly, but it's a sort of glass shattering realization that he wants to see him smile like that as much as humanly possible. And falling for Dave was like filling a bowl with ramen right up to the edge, right near the curved lip, where one more drop was enough to make everything start pouring over, all at once.
He realizes he looks dumb, standing there, doing nothing at all but watching this, the room seeming to blur into the background as Bon Jovi is lightly heard through one half of a pair of headphones, so he reaches forward, taking the other, unoccupied half and places it in his own ear.
It's easy to forget how music makes you feel things when you haven't listened to it in a while. And when he hears the music inside his own head, he winds up smiling too.]
cw: dokis....
[and there's an undercurrent of energy there, just under the surface, even when he lets that larger smile of his relax into something more low-key, as he does. it's a lot of excitement, admittedly, over a song with a much more sedate sort of tempo. maybe it's the way that an activity that feels so familiar to him is crashing into newer feelings he can't really place, much less figure out what to do with. it's like a sudden storm of tension has lodged itself in his chest.]
[it's not really a bad thing. Dave would stand here and listen to every single song on this playlist in their entirety, if Ryuji would let him. he wants to know more about his taste in music. he wants to hear everything that's he's never heard before. he wants to know more about Tokyo, and what it was like living there — and, maybe even more importantly than the music, he wants to know more about Ryuji's life in general.]
[there's about a thousand other things he'd like to know, too, and they're thoughts he's having at a rapid-fire pace, but his silent lineup of questions is cut short when the song draws to a close, and it suddenly occurs to Dave that yeah, they ... sure are standing awfully close together.]
[he should step away. he doesn't. he lifts his chin slightly, glancing at Ryuji out of the side of his shades, choosing not to hide his gaze behind them for once, as if to ask if he's going to pick another song, or say something, or.]
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Feelings are pretty hard. Talking about feelings are harder.
And he sees Dave looking up at him expecting some sort of response, because he's quite literally living through the concept of facing the music, Ryuji feels like his heart has sped up, rattling in the cage of his chest. Awkward now, that there's a quiet moment, and the capacity to do something he wants to do, and they're so close like this. He's not stepping away, though, and is that... shit, is that supposed to mean something?
He looks over slowly, and- oh. Dude. That just... that's not fair, either.]
You have eyes. Uh. Nice.
[Wait a second, that didn't make a single ounce of fucking sense at all, and as he feels his cheeks burn in the light of his own stupidity, he wonders if correcting himself would make it sound worse? Probably. Why. Okay, take a moment, unscramble. It was meant to be a compliment, not a statement of biological fact.]
I mean... I-- uh. You have nice eyes.
[That's b...etter.... kind of. Except for the fact that now that he's said it, he cant look at them at all. He hopes it's not too weird of a thing to say? It probably is. It definitely is. He was better off at You have eyes, and instead, he just focuses on picking another song instead. And if Dave doesn't nope the hell right out of this already, the Rolling Stones' Time is On My Side starts playing. He picked it because it had "time" in the title before it starts going and man, is he filled with mistakes tonight.]
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[and that all jumbles up in his head in a way that makes his face feel hot, too, though most of it might be hidden behind the shades. and the words that slip out of the trainwreck that is his brain right now —]
I ... yeah.
[— wind up just as awkward, and unintentionally a bit dick-ish. oh god, he didn't mean that rudely! Dave's usually so good at being cool about everything, deflecting when something gets to him, one way or the other. but it's like every time he hangs out with Ryuji, he chips off more of that coolkid emotional armor he's wearing, and Dave is unconsciously terrified that when he pulls back that last barrier, tears down that last wall he's hiding behind, Ryuji will wind up hating the person he finds.]
[he should say something else. very belatedly, while mentally sifting through their previous conversations for something to draw on, Dave realizes that he'd accidentally referred to himself as Ryuji's Lois Lane. and suddenly, he'd very much like to just waltz through an airlock and live on the top of the space station.]
[jesus christ, Dave, say something!]
I mean ... you do, too? If I'm being honest.
[there's no air or sound in the vacuum of space. and out there, no one could hear how terrible this is.]
[he takes something of a half step away, even more cognizant of how close they're standing to each other, but then the music starts again, and Dave freezes in place, getting at least one answer to a question that had been reeling through his mind earlier. and unabashedly (in)appropriate that the song pick is, it's also drowning out the way his heart is pounding frantically in his ears.]
So. Classic rock, then. [it's both a statement and a question, and an effort to diffuse the tension. he still wants to know pretty much everything about Ryuji's taste in music.]
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Ryuji definitely doesn't have a coolkid exterior armor to fall back on when things go south. He's a pin cushion with a core that narrowly avoids being poked when a needle drives into him, but with tough enough skin to endure the entire surface being punctured while still dragging forward. And when there's nothing left to give, he just hopes that whatever's pulled back beneath all of that is still worth someone's affection.
Easy enough to tell, then, when Ryuji's expression changes to bewilderment when Dave ends up eventually saying that to him. He has a hard time seeing his own worth sometimes in the darkness of uncertainty, and... damn. This is terrifying and weird, yet also incredibly, sorely wanted. Embarrassing, too, that he'd build an entire castle out of a grain of sand if he thought it were worth the effort. And Dave definitely was.
He's kind of glad for a change of topic, because he's not sure what he's supposed to say in response to that because "yeah..." seems exactly like something he'd utter out, or something far, far worse that would be construed as less-than-subtle flirting. He doesn't really have any slickness here, and when he honest to god tries to, it comes out way below anything alluring or coy. It's those three words again- it's how he'd do it. Earnest, blunt, to the point.
No use dwelling in it, though. He can worry about this interaction later when he's wondering if it went how it was meant to go or whether or not he could've done something better. Well, aside from the whole You have eyes part. That was pretty god-awful.]
Yeah. Led Zeppelin, AC/DC, The Clash, The Kinks, Journey... I'm kinda a sucker for the old style. Even though it's pretty cliche, the Beatles are pretty cool in my book, too. You think back to those sort of songs and how... y'know. Effin rebellious they were. Imagine a time when sayin' something like "I wanna hold your hand" was pretty much the most punk thing ever. I like modern stuff too, but... yeah.
[At least this conversation seems pretty safe. He's still kind of swimming in the fact that Holy shit, Dave Strider said I have nice eyes too.]
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[there's something amused threatening the corners of his mouth, like he might just fully smile again, listening to Ryuji rattle off of his favorite big hair bands, his pulse and the heat of the earlier moments settling down to their normal tempos. because of course Ryuji would love all these old-school rebels. he'd probably even dig their fashion sense, too — actually, now that Dave thinks about it, he'd probably just straight up rock them if he had the chance. if he's reading Ryuji right.]
[....... hm. anyway.]
Kinda makes me wish I had my computer with me. Got lots of stuff in my library you'd probably like.
[and when they run out of music, he could just remix everything. the possibilities are endless. they always are.]
Sounds like a long shot for this place, anyway.
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And probably- the only problem was that school was pretty much a 6 day a week affair for kids in Japan, which meant that 85% of his life was spent figuring out how to take a traditional school uniform and butcher it so that it was more his style. Suspenders thrown off his shoulder and worn like accessories to his hips, pins on his blazer, white keds with patterns drawn on in marker, t-shirts that didn't match at all. Maybe not the rock image Dave was expecting, but, he put up enough of a stink so that the teachers stopped trying to bother correcting his attire.]
I'm gonna guess that your library prolly needs its own external hard drive. [He points to Dave's shirt, just to make the obvious point even more obvious.]
But yeah. Music's music. I'd give just about anything a try as long as it's got a good vibe.
[It would be cool, just to stay up listening to stuff he's never heard before. Realize that it'd probably been hours since they started. End up sleeping for an hour or two before the environmental lighting came back up to alert them that it was simulated daytime.]
What're you into, anyway?
[This feels a lot more like their usual rhythm. It was like going from experimental back to jazz. And even if there wasn't a sheet music and it was off the roller coaster rails, it wasn't... well, it wasn't that bad.]
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[it puts the record on his shirt that Ryuji's so astutely noticed into even more perspective, at least. and, to continue the metaphor, remixing a timeline until it's something he deems acceptable is easily within Dave's capabilities, too. of course, changing the flavor of a song doesn't leave you dead, usually. but that's neither here nor there.]
[he'd love the idea of just chilling and listening to whatever, having some quiet time to fit in with their usual banter, or their usually bizarre choices in activities, or even the moments they find themselves approaching subjects far more serious — all within the same day, the same conversations, the hours spent together. and standing there, it suddenly occurs to him that that's exactly what they could be doing.]
Mind if I stick around and listen for a while? You pick the music.
[now that the question's out there, he suddenly feels ... well, really awkward about it. his ears are suddenly burning. Dave's not sure why, exactly — it's not like he just asked the guy on a date, or something.]
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Wait, that was really corny. Why is he being so corny? When did this start happening to him? Flushing that sort of thought trail out of his head, his eyebrows perk upward.]
Yeah. 'Course. Can't think of anything better I'd wanna do.
[They're disasters, the both of them. He pulls the earbud out of his own ear and looks around the room. It'd be awkward to continue just standing there for the duration of this- so that leaves one of the beds? Ren's would feel kind of wrong, and then... Ryuji's would feel... oh god.
Oh god.
Maybe they should settle on the floor. Why didn't these places have couches? Wait, no, he'll make Dave pick. That way he doesn't have to feel the warmth in his cheeks flare up directly as he scuffles through the choice.]
Pick a place to get comfy?
[He looks down at his watch, trying to figure out what's next on the playlist for the evening. He lands on the Smiths this time, changing up the sound from before. Ryuji knows this one is one of the more popular ones, but he still likes it nonetheless. The first verse kicks off: "Take me out tonight, where there's music and there's people, and they're young and alive, driving in your car, I never, never want to go home, because I haven't got one anymore."
So... embarrassing. Especially for a not-date.]
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[at some point in the future, should this path they're wandering down end up somewhere far more flushed, Dave's own words are probably going to come back to haunt him, as they always do. they could be wandering around the station in goddamn matching Four Aces Suited tuxedos, up to the same shenanigans they always are, sprinkled with held hands and sitting around completely comfortably in each other's personal spaces, "and you would still be all coy like IS IT A DATE OR ISNT IT HMMMM WHO CAN REALLY SAY FOR SURE???"]
[disasters, indeed. that's all unless, of course, three words manage to finally escape first. tear the curtain down and leave no questions between them unanswered.]
[the lyrics themselves don't really hit him as hard as the music itself does at first, and maybe that's a bit of luck in Ryuji's favor. that might be because he's having the exact frantic thought process, now that the onus is on him to find a spot to sit, and perhaps even more luckily, he manages to land on somewhere that's not completely humiliating:]
Floor's fine. [he says, his gaze on the wall near the beds. it's not a soft pile of things like one might find on the meteor, which might have embarrassing connotations of its own, he might think in retrospect, but it's familiar to him all the same. so he steps over, settling himself down, drawing his knees to his chest.]
[and that's when the lines start bleeding through, the "take me anywhere, I don't care, I don't care, I don't care," is another jolt straight to his heart, and he very nearly blurts out a question, if Ryuji can see right fucking through him or something. but he barely manages not to. and he just waits for Ryuji to join him.]
[was there something almost a bit nervous in his expression just then? nah, it was probably just the lighting.]
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The only thing that should really be flushed about this entire exchange is probably Ryuji. Right down the toilet, so he can join his burrito nemesis in space.]
Cool.
[Is it though?
Ryuji settles to move up to his bed anyway, grabbing his blanket off the top bunk. He doesn't know if this is necessarily wanted, or even needed, but there's a certain... je ne sais quoi about it. Almost like it gives a little bit of security. Like it's a... security blanket. And then finds a spot next to Dave with it balled up into its standard issued shittery. Sitting down cross legged, he points to the heap of sheets with one hand, like yo, this okay? and starts stretching it out anyway. Might as well get comfortable or something. Pull back his earbud and slide into music town, population, these two dorks.]
I uh... I like this song. [Just as it starts to wind down into the last phrase being driven home over and over again. And then, the realization hits that it's pretty... on topic. He should be more upset by it, but whatever, he's beginning to resign himself to being embarrassing and unsubtle.]
Er. Do you want me to pick somethin' more cheery next? Or... shit, I dunno. You can see my library if you want, it's still got some pretty embarrassin' stuff in there. [He holds out his arm to show Dave his watch, in case he did want to take a look... or whatever, he can just slam on another one instead.]
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[is that what this is? some sort of space camp? is he, one day, going to go back home, memories of this whole experience in tow, and be that one ghost kid who keeps bringing up "that one time at space camp..." and. oh god. god, Dave, please stop thinking for a goddamn second for once in your life.]
[this was his idea; he did ask to stay. and he's always sort of found it a bit brisk inside anyway, as a kid hailing from hot-as-fuck Texas, and from a quest planet that was literally made of lava. so, even though he's a bit surprised by the gesture, he maybe also finds himself more surprised with the fact that he's pretty cool with it. well, warmed, more literally. shit, let's be space camp dorks.]
[and Dave realizes, after his train of thought careens off into god-knows where, pauses at a station that makes terrible '90s movies references, and slowly lurches back to reality, that Ryuji asked him a question. right. all right, something new to focus on sounds good. he is all about the focus.]
Define embarrassing. [because that's what he's chosen to focus on, apparently, leaning closer so he can get a better look at the watch. aside from him. he knows he's embarrassing.]
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Unless, of course, this really is a permanent kind of thing. It's a dangerous thought- being here for the rest of his life. Two months in, everything becomes a little bit too much of a routine. Eventually, he'll have known his new friends here as long as he's known his friends from home, and that... wow, that's a pretty weird thing to come across.
But presently, Ryuji is trying not to think too much about how close Dave is like this. It would be way, way too goddamn easy to just do the Movie Date Thing where he reaches around and lays an arm around his shoulder- which, honestly, is something Ryuji would do anyway, any time, any place. But the added context here makes their positions all the more apparent and meaningful in ways that he doesn't really comprehend how to handle. So he doesn't. He gives up trying to stop being flustered. It's not worth it to ruin how simple and easy this really should be.
Hey, earth (??? this isn't earth), to Dave. What are you thinking about up there? Ryuji turns his face to see the other, smiling contentedly. And as his thoughts accelerate at a speed of r/s2 (references per second squared), Ryuji waves the watch a little bit to ensure that he's still looking.
Oh. There he is.]
I mean. Y'know. Catchy pop tunes! Themes to anime. [He scrolls by the theme song to Ponyo and raises an eyebrow.] Like this one. [He laughs, catching himself. Oh man, does he need to see his love for mecha anime theme songs too? That's pretty damning.]
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[but as hard as it is to admit, none of that actually matters here, who knows how many light years or universes away from the broken session he'd left behind. if he'd been a different Dave, maybe, he would have gotten the message already: none of that, nothing that happens in the alpha timeline, is his business anymore. it's time to move on.]
[if there's only one thing that Ryuji could do for him, it's help get that message across to him. shed that particular set of baggage and really live in the moment, and be at peace with that. and, sitting there, watching Ryuji scroll through the more embarrassing parts of his playlist, it feels an awful lot like Dave is getting there. shitty space station camp with its shitty space-issued blankets, toilet ghosts, regular old ghosts and everything.]
[huh. maybe he can actually pull off the Dave of Guy look after all.]
That one. Got it.
[naturally, he's going to reach over and hit play on that Ponyo song. he's never heard it before, and has no idea what could be so embarrassing about it — and he's starting to feel comfortable enough in this situation to start being obnoxious again.]
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He'll sing along, though. His voice isn't horrible, but it definitely isn't great either. And about half a verse in, he can't do this anymore, and he gives up, laughing at himself and how horrible it is.]
I saw this movie when I was a kid. It's about a magic fish who meets a boy and decides to become human, but all this shit goes down and makes it really hard. [He's practically talking over the song now, but it's a good story, and maybe Dave wouldn't mind hearing it?] Her dad doesn't want her to, though, and enlists her mom in helping keep her in fish form. So he gives the boy a test, that if he can pass, the fish girl can become a human. But she'll lose all her magic. And her mom asks the boy if he can love Ponyo whether she's a fish or not and he tells her that he does.
[The explanation outlives the song, and it goes quiet for a second as Ryuji finishes the story.]
And he kisses her and she turns into a human. Anyway, I dunno if it's still like... a good movie, or I just really enjoyed going to the theater with my mom and getting so sick from eating an entire tub of popcorn. Either way, it was pretty rad.
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[actually, he is. which is why that outburst is met only with a bit of a smirk.]
Oh, so he was dating a fish. Got it.
[Dave...]
That doesn't really sound all that embarrassing to me. I mean — no, eating popcorn until you puke is pretty embarrassing.
But, I always figured having dumb songs like this one handy just meant you have a thought you really like attached to it. Kinda like looking into the past without having to deal with the bullshit of actually going there. I've got weird stuff in my library for the same reason.
[that might seem oddly sentimental. but that's always been how important music is to him — it's both something he loves and, when times were unbearably bad, a way to remember times that weren't.]
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[You asked for it, Dave. If you're going to dismantle one of his childhood faves, you're grabbing the bull by its horns, and that bull is the treasure trove of absolutely shitty puns that he could drop at any moment.
He pushes his lips to the side and bunches up his cheek when Dave admits to him being embarrassing. He knows he is. He said he is. It didn't have to be a spoken affirmation.]
I have a sensitive stomach, okay?
[Which is kind of ridiculous since he lived off a diet of konbeni and fast food fixes; the lap of luxury that's precisely provided by a single mom who worked two jobs and was rarely home long enough to cook dinner for the both of them. At least he learned some basic cooking skills out of the deal. He's not (totally) useless.
And to get out of this vicious cycle of Disney-esque ditties, he presses play down on a rock song from his home language- Clock Strikes by One Ok Rock.]
I uh... get what you mean. Sometimes the opposite's true though, too. There are songs you just can't listen to anymore 'cause it reminds you of times that you don't wanna remember... [He's not about to ruin the mood here, but generally speaking, it was nice to listen to music to drown out the sounds of his father screaming at his mother. There were just some things he couldn't listen to anymore because he wasn't in that state of being any longer and looking back, it's not comforting as much as it was just sad. But he won't delete those songs from his library either.]
But. Yeah. It's kinda cool. You make a little house for all these good things you attach to the stuff that makes you feel good. Something you can decorate just by yourself and live in for a while when you're down and surround yourself in good vibes.
[Yeah, they're absolutely on the same page with that.]
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[he doesn't really have anything to say to that, though. it's true that he's used music as something of a means of escape, building a place to be surrounded by good vibes, attaching himself to something he loves to forget everything he hated about his life back home. but after a while, the fact that a song is meant to play that role becomes attached to it, too, which is souring in its own way.]
[maybe that's just another reason why he spends so much time remixing everything.]
[Dave stretches his legs out, sinking just slightly against the wall. he's not upset; if anything, he's relaxing, finding a comfort in the fact that there's just one more idea they both seem to value, one more thing they've got in common. and, he's just listening.]
Thanks, by the way. For letting me listen. [embarrassing shit and all. you can tell a lot about a person from the music they keep handy. even the Ponyo song carried a lot of meaning that was easily gleaned.]
Might be biased over here, but I'm thinking you got one of the best ghost gifts so far, easily. It even edges out the monkey pajamas.
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He lets out a throaty hnn..., a vestige of his own native language used when you're basically agreeing with something, but the economy of words needed to do so was strong enough to be conveyed by a sound rather than a spoken something instead. He gets to thinking about home for a moment, and rather than the normal levels of homesickness that it implies, he starts wondering some hypotheticals. If Dave were back there, and he was, and if they had known each other, what would this look like? Would it be different? Would they have gotten close like this or was everything just perpetuated by the situational morass that the terminal had to offer? Would he be trying to stifle down the way he feels about him?
He lets his head lean up against the wall behind him. Even in simple things there are layers of complexity if you go deeper into the things that make them up. But might as well talk about it rather than play around with the idea of talking about it.]
You think you'd ever... uh. Wanna see Tokyo one day? I mean. Like. Hypothetically speaking. I know it's kinda dumb to think gettin' off this station's happenin' anytime soon. But I'd wanna take you to an arcade. Or maybe one of those music halls where DJ's spin music live time.
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