hushtype | It's an impossible world

It's an impossible world

Dave remembers pain.

Well, that's accurate and not. He remembers everything quite well. It plays kind of like a really bad dream. But he also know that's not quite accurate either, because it wasn't a dream. It was real. It's almost amusing how terrible things can be and still be real in this place. When Dave wakes up the first thought is how painful it was.

It's not new though. He's used to those kind of things when it comes to Jason and it comes to this place. But it always goes away. It's never permanent. Just some stupid hell that Jason inflicts on them whenever his month rolls by.

He can't help but let out a nervous laugh. Instead of the sound of his voice he just hears airy breaths and for a second his heart stops. He sits up right and presses his hands to his throat. It's perfectly fine. He can't feel any marks. Nothing that would indicate what happened. He tries to speak. Still nothing.

He tries to scream. It's dead silent. Dave swallows. It's a bad dream. This is just a nightmare. It can't possibly be real. He's just dreaming and he'll wake up and it's some hellbent punishment that he's experienced before. Except he knows he's just fooling himself.

Dave numbly gets back to his feet. He feels humiliated in some way. Slighted. He can't face anyone. He should have been more careful. Can you even be careful in this place? How long can he avoid people before it becomes obvious he's avoiding them. He's already counting the seconds.

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He catches sight of the heart out of the corner of his good eye and flips Dave off. Now the problem with that was he turned his head at the same time. That's not his cheek getting kissed, brah. His eye widens and his brain forgets what the fuck he was thinking about. Bsod, he needs to reboot.

Dave immediately pulls back and, oh shit. That wasn't what he was trying to do. He's more embarrassed for accidentally kissing Dave on the mouth than...the actual action of kissing Dave on the mouth.

UH. He's making a hell of a lot of hand movement. He points to his mouth than to Dave's cheek. Or maybe it's easier if he points to his own cheek as to indicate what he was trying to do. In the end he kind of just looks like he's waving his arms really dumbly and just stops.

Dave kind of motions towards the exit as if indicating if maybe he should leave after a minute of just trying to figure out what to do. This is awkward.

It takes him a second to respond, between all the waving of arms and the freak out, he's having a hard time figuring out what the hell his buddy is trying to say. Dave reaches out to snag his wrists just seconds before his counterpart stops and halts when he stops.

He shakes his head at him. Then he points to the soap. "Dude just keep washing, it's no biggie. But if you drop the soap, you're retrieving it."

It seems that despite not having a voice, Dave still seemingly has the ability to come off as a chatterbox. Dave probably hasn't even seen how fast and how much he signs when he starts getting carried away. Of course, no one really does since not many would understand him anyways. It would just like a lot of arm flailing anyways.

He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly and an apologetic smile. He's long since stopped the poker face. It makes communication even harder if he kept it up.

"Does it look like it bothered me? Just surprised me." It has been a damn long time and a missing eye since he'd been kissed, accidentally or otherwise. He expected sharp teeth just on instinct. Dave looks at him and shrugs, before ducking his head under the water, letting it run over his face.

"If you're not going to use the soap, man pass it already. Or do a bro a favor and get my back."

Despite the awkward accidental lip lock, Dave starts washing his back off. But he's going to take advantage of touching the other just so he can touch the other more. And he means innocently too. He's craving it, but he isn't going to step over any boundaries just because he really wanted more physical contact.

This was fine enough.

He doesn't need more evidence to put together that his counterpart is all but starving for contact. He'd been on the meteor for two years and all but burned for it when he was dumped into the land of pokemon. He'd draped and touched his friends every chance he got, even if it was just a brush of shoulders or tucked up together on the couch.

He leans back into the touches with a soft sigh. It does feel nice and he's not about to deny him what he wants. To some degree, he still has a want for it himself. "Need me to do yours?" Giving him the option for more, if he wants it, is now his duty.

He's been craving it for awhile. His contact had been limited in this Tower.Even more limited when he became distant.

He looks up and he's obviously pondering how to answer that. Like there's an actual wrong or right answer or if he answers wrong, it'll fuck something up. He's still overthinking things a bit. He's still in that mindset and it'll take some time to get out of it. He finally nods though.

He steps away from him, snagging the soap as he lightly presses Dave forward towards the water. There's never a wrong answer with him, because he gets it. He even gets why the mindset exists at all. He lathers up his hands and starts to carefully and slowly work over the smaller back before him.

Dave wants to linger and take as much time as possible with this. It's contact and he really...well he gets it sometimes but it's so limited sometimes he wants to scream. It's enough to keenly miss when he had it all the time. However briefly that time was.

He lets out a content sigh. A passing of breath through his mouth and nothing more. He just relaxes and enjoys the feeling of the water against his skin and Dave's hands on his back. He hasn't been at peace like this in so long, that it was really nice.

Of course he was also really bad at relaxing. Had to keep himself preoccupied. If Dave watches him carefully, he's making hand signs to himself. He's not actually really saying anything in particular. Just going through the motions and making sure he keeps his vocabulary from deteriorating. It also keeps him busy. He didn't like doing nothing.

He notices the signs. He doesn't understand a word of it, but he resolves to learn. Dave finishes up his other self's back and moves to his sides, leaning on him a little like he had a long time ago when he'd woken up with a missing eye.

He hums some tune he can't remember the name of but his eye is on the movement of the signing hands.

Dave doesn't mind, as usual. He seems fairly content with it in actuality. His hands stop for a moment, his attention on Dave's humming. He can't really place the song name either, but it doesn't matter. He closes his eyes for a moment. Maybe it's unfair of him, he isn't sure. But he wants to hear the other talk all the time. To hear him hum. Anything. Because it means he won't ever forget his own voice. And maybe he can pretend a little.

Not that it's a fantasy he stays in very long. It hurts less moving on. Still, you can't quite let go of it, no matter what you do.

If hearing him hum, talk, or even sing will give his other self a sense of peace, Dave will do it until his voice gives out for a while. He continues to hum as he passes the bar of soap over skin and makes sure to scrub over healing wounds to ensure they get clean. Infection is the worst thing to have in a wound. The water washes the suds away and he unabashedly soaps up the other's chest, noting the difference in how they're toned.

He's been fighting head on with opponents, going toe to toe on every occasion. He has taken steps away from Bro trained them to be. He crossed over into the territory of being capable of cutting down groups of enemies with only his own skill. He just prefers to let the others join in. The killer instinct brought out in him, exists in them both but the silent one is an assassin, built for stealth and capable of using surprise as well as head on battle.

He moves the soap as high as his neck, and as low as his hips before he offers it to Dave. May be the same dude, but there's a limit to what he'll wash without permission and even then, he has his limits.

He wouldn't want Dave to lose his voice over it. It sucks losing your voice and then he'd have to wait until the other recovers to hear him again. He wonders if that's a bit narcissistic of him, but he doesn't really care.

Dave didn't want to take the chance of going head on. He knew he could hold his own, but it was safer for him to stay in the dark. He didn't want the others have to keep an eye on him to make sure he didn't get into danger with no way of notifying when he was in trouble. It was just better this way. But at the very least, he can keep an eye on them and bring assistance when they needed it.

He takes the soap from the other to finish washing himself up. He understands.

Dave steps back a bit from him, moving to get under the spray of hot water. He sighs as the heated water runs over his face and turns so he can make eye contact with his counterpart while rinsing off his back. While he's busy washing, he can't have too much body contact but that doesn't mean eye contact is off the table.

Dave is a little more preoccupied with washing himself, but he'll look Dave's way every so often. Everytime he'll give the other a smile. It's surprisingly pleasant and genuine. It's a little awkward, like he's still kind of unused to showing genuine feelings.

He's still struggling a bit to pull away from the poker face. It's hard especially because this place really wants him to use it more, but he needs to break away from it. Sign language isn't quite as successful without his body language, and it's easier to smile than to wave your hands around to signify you're grateful or pleased.

It's a little weird to see himself smile. He can't help but do it himself. Funny how one little thing they were taught not to do is kinda contagious. well, not necessary avoid. Bro just wanted them to be strong. Here they are.

Dave steps clear of the water, brushing shoulders with his other self and snags the soap from him since he's done to get his front scrubbed up. He'll do his hair last. Damn shit tends to look like a crow's feathers all the time. To keep up the contact without really saying that's what he's doing, Dave pushes lightly at Animus Dave with his foot. Go rinse off.

It seems to make Dave's smile a little brighter. Like the other smiling back actually makes him happy. Well, that's probably true. This place seems to be good at taking that sort of stuff away from them, so it's a relief to see that the other can and will smile.

He isn't aware that the other is purposely keeping in physical contact with him, but it's nice. He shuffles under the spray so he can rinse off, pleased with the hot water on his skin.

He soaps up his body and finally scrubs the hell out of his hair. With his hair out of the way, waits for Animus to get done using the hot water spray. He busies himself with scrubbing the bottoms of his feet and cracking his toes. He leans forward to prod at him again. "You know what I never appreciated? Baths. I mean at first it was like that's just an accident waiting to happen. Now I think about it and want one after a long fight."

Dave points up and then waves his arms as though he were paddling to indicate swimming. He could always swim in the water floors or something. He knows that's not the same. Also, he still can't swim, so he isn't sure why he mentioned it in the first place. But hey, people find swimming relaxing right?

It takes him a moment to figure out what Animus is saying. Dave shakes his head. "I barely know how to swim. Bro tossed me in a pool one summer and kept dragging me out there until I could doggie paddle. Other than, fuck if I know how to do it. How does one float???"

Dave shakes his head and shrugs at that. You're asking the wrong person. Dave can't even doggie paddle. He pretty much sinks like a rock in bodies of water. Or at least he assumes that would be the case. He doesn't actually intend to get near water large enough to drown him to find out.

He shrugs as well. Eh. They'll figure something out later. He lightly nudges him to ask for time under the water. The heated water is slowly waking him up. Though he's tempted to just go back to bed. There's shit to do today though, so he can't.

Dave moves out of the way so the other can use it. At this point Dave is pretty much done with the whole shower thing. Mostly, he guesses he'll have to walk back to his room in soaking wet water. His hindsight is 20/20, dang.

But he can't be too annoyed considering he things the turnout was worth it.

Now he just wonders if anyone else will be willing to talk to him again. Fuck.

The shower is mistly over. He could linger but there's no point to it. Dave sighs as he tucks the soap away in its niche and shuts the water off. He shakes the water out of his eye and leaves the stall. He tosses one of the two towels he left hanging up to his smaller counterpart.

It takes him very little time to dry off and start getting dressed. First comes his eyepatch. It keeps the scarred mess on that side of his face covered, as it should be. He hates looking at it.

It's an impossible world

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