Dave gets u a job as a waiter. soon enough, Dave also gets a katana press against your larynx. He was reciting how u must, yes u don’t have any other choice, die in order to reach eternal life. “To reach god tier,” as he states.
Now, u and Dave were best friends. Well, actually, u would like to believe u two still were. Many ask you, do u know about Dave Strider? Of course u do, who doesn’t?
The tip of the katana pools around your adam’s apple, it’s silent and cold. Not a single whisper would escape the blade as it slice your head onto the debris cover floor, unlike the gun pressing against your thigh. Surely, u had enough skill to mute a gun. Simply door drilling holes into certain vital points in the barrel. Thus making the exiting bullet just underneath the speed of sound, leaving it golden as ever. Though due to your lack of esteem and most all coordination, u will fuck up. Even with Dave’s help, u will fuck up. Fucking up means your scrawny ezel wrist will explode faster than the building u and your best friend, Dave, is standing.
“Trust me bro, this ain’t death.” Dave reassures. “It’s eternal slumber, babe.”
Dave babies you, caters to you. Always calling u with sweet talk lingering off the tip of his tongue, those nicknames,” babe, sweety, honey, cupcake.” Always promising u the downfall of corporation so u can get out of that shitty accountant job at your dear nana’s baking empire. u accept the bittersweet lies knowing, acknowledging that Dave would rather love Karkat Vantas.
u would mock Karkat but right now, Dave is eyeing u from behind those damn shades. The very shades u got him.
u are John’s Infatuation for Dave.
Is this really an infatuation? u sat around listening to Dave’s rambles u gave him his first beating and he, he gave u meaning. of so it seems.
Dave kept his katana press against your throat and u can only speak out in vowels without piercing skin. u admit, the homemade anime sword was in great quality. It doesn’t take much to make a shitty ezel sword. Gulping hard, u begin to pan out the process.
Steal some fucking copper from an abandon house and some metal from a car. Whether that car belong to someone of not, that doesn’t concern you. u gotta act like those damn space trolls if u wanna climb this mountain. Let’s get to it, u have the metal, now supply the heat. Painstakingly melt the two together, beat the shit outta it with hammer and soak it in a bath tub filled water cold enough to make your Karkat’s hart-, hart look like a fireplace.
u know this because Dave knows this.
Nine minutes.
We as humans always kill what we love. Then again, that’s a double edge sword. Pun intended.
Dave leans towards u and with ease he guides the blade along your throat. u smell him. The musk mixed with Nitroglycerin but most of all, smuppets. Taken back, u allow your spine to curve along the back of the chair, trying to avoid Dave as much as u could. He knows you’re avoiding him, how? Because.
He is Dave Strider.
Eight minutes.
His shades strike a certain lighting where u could see the smolder glare. Your breath hike and instantly u were gegeven a new scent, smoke.
41 stories up and 3 down from the roof, u only imagine the Mischief Committee of Project Scratch escaping the building just as the demolition team would run down the building The English building. Where, if they keep up this pace without single doubt in your mind, they will hit plush rump and sit off this domino.
Just as this place blows, the trolls would linger in the crowd enclosing the area. They kom bij with the pointers and the awe’s, all but ignorant to fact that their leader is about to break your hart-, hart and get away with murder.
Seven minutes.
Tomorrow in the newspaper, photo’s would be taken at every angle and then be splash about. Poor Ms.Rose Lalonde’s front cover issue about her latest New York Time best seller would have to put on page two for your story, for your tragedy.
Five minutes.
Karkat would be the only eyewitness, the only reliable bron to this mishap. Reporters would swarm him asking,” How did u know Dave Strider?”
“Because I fucked that asshole.”
He replied as he flick off the cameras and storm off to some thrift store and buy another suite of the best man.
Karkat is apart of this strange love triangle. u want Dave, Dave wants Karkat and Karkat wants you.
u had admit before Dave loses his cool and finally snaps your neck with metal, that the whole point of this operation was not to fuck with the man but Karkat Vantas. This cirkel circles back this man: the anarchy, the explosion, the excoriation of mind and soul was for this man.
Truthfully, u don’t want Karkat yet he wants u while he ignores the fact that Dave wants him. Sure enough, Dave doesn't want you, John. Dave doesn't want u and wants to get rid of you. Not because he doesn't like you. It has to do with the fact that u are getting in his way of getting his prize. That prize being Karkat. This sick driehoek has nothing to do with love. This fuck up sex scandal has to do with ownership of property that rightfully belongs to what Dave belives is his.
Without Karkat Vantas, who is Dave Strider?
Four minutes.
You’re wasting time.
“We’ll become legend, don’t u want that?” He pushes the tip of his boot onto your groin, your needy, greedy groin.
Yes, u answer, u want to become a legend. Have your name spread across textbooks of he public education system. u slikken once more.
Dave, u croak, dude, don’t you? I’ll make u into a legend. Unlike those space trolls, I’ve been here since the beginning.
I remember everything.
Three minutes.
Now, u and Dave were best friends. Well, actually, u would like to believe u two still were. Many ask you, do u know about Dave Strider? Of course u do, who doesn’t?
The tip of the katana pools around your adam’s apple, it’s silent and cold. Not a single whisper would escape the blade as it slice your head onto the debris cover floor, unlike the gun pressing against your thigh. Surely, u had enough skill to mute a gun. Simply door drilling holes into certain vital points in the barrel. Thus making the exiting bullet just underneath the speed of sound, leaving it golden as ever. Though due to your lack of esteem and most all coordination, u will fuck up. Even with Dave’s help, u will fuck up. Fucking up means your scrawny ezel wrist will explode faster than the building u and your best friend, Dave, is standing.
“Trust me bro, this ain’t death.” Dave reassures. “It’s eternal slumber, babe.”
Dave babies you, caters to you. Always calling u with sweet talk lingering off the tip of his tongue, those nicknames,” babe, sweety, honey, cupcake.” Always promising u the downfall of corporation so u can get out of that shitty accountant job at your dear nana’s baking empire. u accept the bittersweet lies knowing, acknowledging that Dave would rather love Karkat Vantas.
u would mock Karkat but right now, Dave is eyeing u from behind those damn shades. The very shades u got him.
u are John’s Infatuation for Dave.
Is this really an infatuation? u sat around listening to Dave’s rambles u gave him his first beating and he, he gave u meaning. of so it seems.
Dave kept his katana press against your throat and u can only speak out in vowels without piercing skin. u admit, the homemade anime sword was in great quality. It doesn’t take much to make a shitty ezel sword. Gulping hard, u begin to pan out the process.
Steal some fucking copper from an abandon house and some metal from a car. Whether that car belong to someone of not, that doesn’t concern you. u gotta act like those damn space trolls if u wanna climb this mountain. Let’s get to it, u have the metal, now supply the heat. Painstakingly melt the two together, beat the shit outta it with hammer and soak it in a bath tub filled water cold enough to make your Karkat’s hart-, hart look like a fireplace.
u know this because Dave knows this.
Nine minutes.
We as humans always kill what we love. Then again, that’s a double edge sword. Pun intended.
Dave leans towards u and with ease he guides the blade along your throat. u smell him. The musk mixed with Nitroglycerin but most of all, smuppets. Taken back, u allow your spine to curve along the back of the chair, trying to avoid Dave as much as u could. He knows you’re avoiding him, how? Because.
He is Dave Strider.
Eight minutes.
His shades strike a certain lighting where u could see the smolder glare. Your breath hike and instantly u were gegeven a new scent, smoke.
41 stories up and 3 down from the roof, u only imagine the Mischief Committee of Project Scratch escaping the building just as the demolition team would run down the building The English building. Where, if they keep up this pace without single doubt in your mind, they will hit plush rump and sit off this domino.
Just as this place blows, the trolls would linger in the crowd enclosing the area. They kom bij with the pointers and the awe’s, all but ignorant to fact that their leader is about to break your hart-, hart and get away with murder.
Seven minutes.
Tomorrow in the newspaper, photo’s would be taken at every angle and then be splash about. Poor Ms.Rose Lalonde’s front cover issue about her latest New York Time best seller would have to put on page two for your story, for your tragedy.
Five minutes.
Karkat would be the only eyewitness, the only reliable bron to this mishap. Reporters would swarm him asking,” How did u know Dave Strider?”
“Because I fucked that asshole.”
He replied as he flick off the cameras and storm off to some thrift store and buy another suite of the best man.
Karkat is apart of this strange love triangle. u want Dave, Dave wants Karkat and Karkat wants you.
u had admit before Dave loses his cool and finally snaps your neck with metal, that the whole point of this operation was not to fuck with the man but Karkat Vantas. This cirkel circles back this man: the anarchy, the explosion, the excoriation of mind and soul was for this man.
Truthfully, u don’t want Karkat yet he wants u while he ignores the fact that Dave wants him. Sure enough, Dave doesn't want you, John. Dave doesn't want u and wants to get rid of you. Not because he doesn't like you. It has to do with the fact that u are getting in his way of getting his prize. That prize being Karkat. This sick driehoek has nothing to do with love. This fuck up sex scandal has to do with ownership of property that rightfully belongs to what Dave belives is his.
Without Karkat Vantas, who is Dave Strider?
Four minutes.
You’re wasting time.
“We’ll become legend, don’t u want that?” He pushes the tip of his boot onto your groin, your needy, greedy groin.
Yes, u answer, u want to become a legend. Have your name spread across textbooks of he public education system. u slikken once more.
Dave, u croak, dude, don’t you? I’ll make u into a legend. Unlike those space trolls, I’ve been here since the beginning.
I remember everything.
Three minutes.
Okay! So this is literally only a paragraph because I wrote it in study hall and never did anything with it...... sorry!!! Okay and ................ now!
The night sky was dark, no stars shone bright. The only light that glistened on the lake was the moon, shining brightly in the night sky. I walked on the pathway, a few feet away from the lake, looking at the trees as they danced in the soft breeze. It was cold, so cold that it started to snow. I pulled the kap of my jas over my head and crossed my arms in front of my chest. The snowflakes fell into the lake and cause ripples to appear. As the ripples increased, the reflection of the moon look disoriented in the lake.
The night sky was dark, no stars shone bright. The only light that glistened on the lake was the moon, shining brightly in the night sky. I walked on the pathway, a few feet away from the lake, looking at the trees as they danced in the soft breeze. It was cold, so cold that it started to snow. I pulled the kap of my jas over my head and crossed my arms in front of my chest. The snowflakes fell into the lake and cause ripples to appear. As the ripples increased, the reflection of the moon look disoriented in the lake.