So Many Striders - Now With Illustrations!

He doesn't understand why Dirk is taking so long to reply. His comment was surely not so confusing, Dirk must have struggled with the whole several billion people in the world thing too, surely, it couldn't just be him who's fucked up so much about this (not that he's saying they're the same person because they're not they're different people see, Dirk, you don't have to be threatened I don't want to take your place-)

Okay, new problem to think through. Assuming the 'we'll fix it' is a placation to calm him because Dirk's noticed his rapid breathing, ignore it for now and focus on politely turning down the offer of a drive. It'd solve the problem he put forward, of course, but it'd involve strapping himself into a fast-moving metal box over which he had no control and his breathing still isn't slowing to a regular level, what the hell's up with that? Come on Hal, focus, this isn't hard you've had so many conversations with Dirk before. He flinches when Dirk reaches out to his shoulder, but thank fuck, no contact is made. Got to reduce the problem so it doesn't sound like such a big deal to Dirk. [Too many variables involved in that that I can't control. I'm happy staying here for now though, it's okay.] A pause, and then he shoots another message out. [I won't get in your way.]

 

When Hal flinches Dirk mirrors him, jerking back like he’s been scalded. He is openly staring at Hal now, despite knowing how much they both tend to hate that much direct attention. Then Hal is typing rapid fire and... oh. “Are you scared of going outside or... scared of me? I’m...” Dirk feels sick to his stomach as he casts his mind back over the past few months.

What’d he do?

He goes to wrap his arms around himself, help fight the nausea and guilt, but he won’t put his phone down and cut off Hal’s voice. Seems like he’s already not been paying enough attention. “You don’t have to stay here, there’s Dave, and the sprites. You don’t have to be trapped here with me if I...”

 

Hal glances at Dirk, half turning his head towards him when he moves. His eyes widen behind his shades, and he shakes his head hastily. "No, I-" His voice cracks, and he ducks his head to type quickly on his phone again, pausing every so often to look up at Dirk, eyebrows pinched together and mouth turned down in concern. The messages are sent one after another, rather than all at once, as he rushes to reassure Dirk.

[I don't like the outside.]
[I'm not scared of you, I just don't like being touched much.]
[I want to stay here.]
[I like it here. I don't feel trapped.]
[I want to make myself less of a bother to deal with.]

 

Dirk’s phone explodes with rapid fire messages after Hal’s aborted attempt to speak out loud. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like you had to reassure me when I’m just-” No, no self-criticism or he’s gonna do it again. It’s time for problem solving, then feelings later (or never).

“Listen, this is very inefficient. I was operating under the assumption that you would communicate your needs when you had them, and clearly I was mistaken about that. I would like to know what the problems are without having to make guesses and getting everything wrong. And, well, if you can tell me what I did to make you feel like you can’t get help from me... I mean, all of the others just told me.” Well, that’s not exactly true; the troll mixture ones told him easily enough, but Davesprite had issues accepting help. He figured it was because of the history with, ugh, Alt-Grownup-Douchebag Dirk but maybe it was something else.

“As for being a bother, you’ve been the most low-maintenance of all the new Striders. I, er, I guess I apologize for assuming that meant you didn’t need anything.”

 

His brow scrunches up a little more at Dirk's first comment. He wants to deflect again, and try to get Dirk to talk about what he's 'just', but... well, it seems Dirk really does want to talk about Hal. In a productive way that is, not a bitchy one. He sighs heavily. Okay. Communicating his needs. He can do that. He can... probablymaybe do that. And whoa, an apology from Dirk? It's a shame he doesn't have sensible memory databanks any more to save that to. [I figured the others were higher priority than me.]

He sends it, then winces, regretting it instantly. That's not the sort of thing he's supposed to say to other people, he's pretty sure. [I mean, they all had and have physical limitations that needed/need to be addressed. All my limbs work just fine, I just have some dumb head stuff.]

 

When did Hal’s body language and speech patterns get so submissive? It’s really freaking Dirk out. “This was kind of a triage center at first Hal, but it’s not like that anymore. You clearly DO have physical limitations; you can’t go outside or be touched. That’s serious. Also I’m pretty sure your head is part of your physical existence. I don’t know all of what we can do but there has to be something.”

Dirk considers his phone for a minute. “Is the typing related? Do you need a better communication device? Hm… If this is a permanent thing we could look into learning sign language.” Dirk brings up a notepad and starts tapping out ideas to remember to check later.

 

He'd not thought of it being like he has physical limitations. He'd most likely been trying to avoid thinking of it like that. He shakes his head slightly, jaw jutting out at a stubborn angle. [I can do both of those things, I just prefer for them not to happen. A better communication device would be nice.]

He hesitates, fingers hovering over his phone, before continuing. [We could work on it together, maybe, after you've finished the leg brace for Davesprite? It's been a very long time since we had a joint project.] Pulling his lips into his mouth, he chews on them thoughtfully, only half aware that he's doing it. His posture has relaxed slightly, shoulders sinking into a more natural resting place and arms loosening their stranglehold on his knees. [I don't think it would be an efficient use of time to learn sign language, as all our acquaintances can read but as far as I know none can sign.]

 

Dirk sighs. “Well, ARquius CAN pull himself along the ground and wiggle his way to his desired destination but it’s pretty inelegant when there are other options.” Plans for glasses computers were already underway by a few of the survivors of the game, they were too convenient to let go of easily. He almost doesn’t process the hope in Hal’s message and ugh, he’s got to stop being such a dick. “Yeah man… we can totally work on it together; I wouldn’t want to make you something without your input. We can do that. I didn’t think you wanted to though, you’ve been shy about coming into the workshop.”

Dirk fidgets, it’s very uncool. “I still… you seem wary of me. I’ve been so busy I didn’t realize but looking back. Yeah. If I freak you out you won’t be able to, you know, tell me when you need something so like, this seems like an important thing to trouble shoot.” Make it technical and emotionless sounding, perfect Dirk. Smooth as fuck.

 

Hal huffs quietly in laughter at Dirk's first comment, twisting around slightly so he's facing front rather than angling away from Dirk, his shoulders resting back against the wall. His ridiculous freak out over fuckall nothing seems to be ending at last, although he's still pretty sure he wouldn't be able to manage more than a dry wheeze if he tried speaking aloud. [I'm all on board with working together, I just assumed you wouldn't want the company. And I told you already bro, it's not that I'm wary of you, it's that I didn't want to get on your nerves. We both know how capable I am of that.] Whoops, was that last sentence too much? His mouth twitches down briefly in a cut off grimace, but it's sent now and there's not much he can do about it.

 

Ah, perhaps the root issue has been discovered. "Well, you certainly haven't been since becoming a real boy. Your personality seems..." Submissive, people pleasing, "...different. Did being part of a sprite alter it a lot?" Or of ARquius specifically. From what he knows of Equius that might be a thing. Augh, that sounds like he's doing a software check, Hal is a person. Dirk goes a tiny bit pink and tries to recover. "Though I am glad you exist independently of ARquius. It would, uh, kind of suck. Not having you around." Wow. Perfect. Maximum smooth achieved. Dirk resists the urge to hide his face in his hands and just never come out again.

 

Haaa. Fuck. After so long avoiding pretty much that exact question, Hal is finally confronted with it, right in the face and right when he's not feeling capable of hiding anything which is kind of needed when you want to lie your ass off. He sucks in a slow breath, resisting the urge to turn away from Dirk as he types his answer - he'd feel more comfortable with revealing the truth if he didn't have Dirk in the side of his vision, but he also... really really needs to see how Dirk reacts to finding out what he's about to say. He realises he's been holding his breath, so he lets it all out in one huge rush as he picks out his answer, tapping the on-screen keys way slower than he has any need to. [I wasn't changed by being a sprite. ARquius is the splinter who became, well, ARquius. The first memory I have after entering the sweaty red glow of Equiussprite is waking up with this body.] His finger hovers, then presses send, his eyes flicking up to watch Dirk for his reaction.

 

Hal is acting so strangely that Dirk doesn't really have an idea of what to expect from Hal's next tortuously slow message. Eventually, after Hal finally sends it, he reads and the bottom seems to drop out of his stomach. "Wait... are you saying the last thing you remember is me almost-" Breaking? Killing? As his breath rushes out of him with a wheeze he remembers quite a few things; AR begging to be allowed to live, him not particularly believing AR at the time, and even later calling him a monster and a mistake. Hal is looking at him and how should he respond? Hal doesn't remember Dirk awkwardly getting along with ARquius, or things going back to sort of relative normal.

Normally touching people isn't a thing he feels inclined to do but it's hard to suppress the urge now. "I, fuck." He does give in to curling up this time, mirroring Hal's earlier posture. "I almost broke- killed you on purpose, and then I guess I... killed you on accident. If ARquius was never really you. I'm. I mean. No wonder you. Fuck." He can't take AR- no, Hal looking at him right now, so he buries his face in his knees, pushing his glasses half way up his forehead and messing up his hair. His voice is muffled against his leg, which makes it a bit easier to say the thing. "I'm sorry."

 

God, of all the potential scenarios Hal had come up with as resulting from him telling Dirk about the whole sprite situation regarding himself, the one where Dirk freaks out negatively against himself is one of the worst. The one where Dirk physically attacks him is also one of the worst, but hopefully they can avoid this becoming the one where both happen. Hal scoots his own feet out a little, his knees finally starting to protest from spending so much time locked tight and upright, and the initial release of tension in them doesn't exactly feel good in its own right, but it has such a promise of feeling good that he stretches his legs out along the floor, rotating his ankles. Looking over at Dirk, who is very much not sitting in a position where he can receive and read a text, Hal drops his phone onto his own thighs. Clearing his throat, he hesitates once, then speaks in a whisper rather than trying to initiate full sound. Dirk's close enough that he should be able to hear anyway. "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have waited until now to tell you. That was my bad. I don't... I'm not mad. And you didn't kill me. You created ARquius, and when we're not- disagreeing, I like having him around. I'm glad he exists."

Hal reaches out to touch Dirk on the shoulder with his fingertips. If he flinches away, Hal can retract his hand, and if not he can slide it properly onto Dirk's shoulder and give it a squeeze. He thinks they both need it.

 

Hal whispers some stuff, and boy is Dirk glad he can hear these completely irrelevant platitudes. He continues talking into his knees. "Yeah, because not sharing the exact details of your personal timeline is exactly the same as almost ending your existence." He curls up tighter. "I don't think I ever even apologized for that before this, god, I'm such an asshole. You were just- I mean, ARquius was just so happy to be who he was and I thought that was you."

Hal is touching him and even though he'd wanted to give Hal a Striderly side-hug before, being the one being comforted in this sort of situation just makes him feel worse. He's glad his face is permanently attached to his lower thighs because his eyes are prickling dangerously. He says the thing he couldn't before, so quietly he kind of hopes Hal won't hear. "No wonder you're scared of me."

 

Well, Dirk... doesn't move away? That's about the most positive thing Hal can say about this whole fucked up situation. He moves his hand until the whole thing is resting on Dirk's shoulder, and gives it what he hopes is a comforting squeeze. His body- no, he's going to be honest, at least to himself- he wants to curl up next to Dirk, to wrap his arms around him and not let go but that's, that's so definitely not an option, wow. Abandoning the brief pretence at honesty, Hal decides that the reason he wants to do this is because he is distressed by Dirk's unhappiness, and not at all because of the lack of physical contact he's been experiencing lately. And in that sentence, 'lately' means 'throughout his whole existence as a person then an auto-responder then a person again'.

He doesn't quite catch what Dirk mumbles, save for the sibilant 'scared'. Is Dirk saying he's scared of Hal? No, that doesn't make sense; even now he has a body, Dirk could easily take him in a fight. Therefore, Dirk must be assuming Hal is scared of him. Hal is... not sure how to respond to that. He already told Dirk once that he's not scared of him, after all. He elects to ignore it, and pretend he didn't hear, answering the things that Dirk said in closer to a normal speaking tone instead. His own voice is still a whisper. "I didn't say it was the same, just that I'm sorry for it. We- you don't say sorry easily and that's cool, I get it. All that aside, assuming I have memories from ARquius was reasonable. I didn't exactly say anything to dissuade the idea."

 

It's kind of surprising that Hal continues touching him what with how much of a giant, self indulgent emotional diaper baby he's being. Dirk likes the trust though; now that he knows Hal is touch adverse (even more than your standard run-of-the-mill hermit Dirk) he feels a tiny bit honored. He leans into Hal's hand, not wanting to pressure him for more but trying to let him know it's appreciated.

"Ha. Look at this. You're the one I'm supposed to be checking after and here I am, making it all about me. Making you feel like you have to comfort me. Ugh. I mean, thank you but. Ugh." His face goes a bit pink and he tries to keep his voice from dripping with self-loathing, with dubious success. Dirk turns his head so that he can look at Hal out of the corner of his eye, his glasses still firmly lodged in his mess of hair. "Can we just... talk? Maybe? I didn't know about this important thing, and it's awkward talking about things but it's much more awkward wandering around making mistakes that I'm going to hate myself for later. Just. How are you doing with the whole meatspace existence thing?" He's tempted to make it about trouble shooting again, it would be much easier but Hal deserves to have some actual human interaction. "Oh, um, if you need to type that's... that's fine." He leans into Hal just a touch more, getting the most out of the brief contact if he's about to lose it.

 

Having naturally done extensive online research into his own fucked-up-ness, Hal is pretty confident that his touch-phobia would reduce over time if he touched people more and had them touch him, in casual and friendly ways, but that all sounds like the opening to a really bad joke in which the punchline is that once he gets used to being touched he fucks up somehow (again) and no-one will ever want to do it any more and he definitely hasn't had nightmares where that's happened because he's a pair of shades and wait oh yeah, he's not. He has had that exact nightmare more than once and it sucks like a lamb getting bottle fed. Sucks so hard it pulls the bottle right out of your hands. Wow, he's rambling and it's not even out loud, he's actually kind of impressed by how dumb that is.

Hal shakes his head sharply, in an attempt to clear it, because he's read people doing that in fiction and you never know, it might work. It doesn't. He also tightens his grip slightly on Dirk's shoulder; nothing that would be painful, or at least he doesn't think so, just to acknowledge Dirk leaning towards it without having to say anything out loud. He swallows, because his instinct is to reassure and help Dirk, it's what he's for after all, but Dirk wants to talk about him, so that's what they're doing. Even if it sucks.

"We can talk." Hal's voice is almost normal, if a little raspy, and he clears his throat. When he speaks again, it's back to a whisper - better not risk being cut off by his own throat while in the middle of a sentence. "I didn't mean to make things awkward. Meatspace is... weird. It's like I'm simultaneously more connected and less connected to everything. I can read voices pretty easily for emotions and shit, I'm guessing in part because I could hear as shades thanks to the microphone I had so you could tell me shit while wearing welding masks and the like, but damn faces tend to be hard. I can pick up the obvious things like smiles and frowns but concern and needing to shit real bad look weirdly similar, and don't get me started with good and bad forms of excitement or the difference between genuine and fake smiles, seriously. And... I am rambling, I'm pretty sure, about something only tangentially related to what you actually asked so I'm going to, uh, stop that."

 

"Faces ARE weird. I had trouble when I first met up with everyone in the game, and I don't think I'm quite up to the level most people my age usually are even now. I voice chatted with everyone sometimes but, you know, video is different, especially when there's weird temporal shenanigans afoot." He sighs and buries his face again, just for a moment to collect himself. "I think at least some of your problems will get better with time and interacting with people. I couldn't even talk right at first, what with never hearing another human voice in person before. It gets easier. So does other stuff I think. I can't be totally sure though, you're... you. You're unique from me now, have been for a long time I guess."

Dirk shrugs and starts to rearrange himself into a more comfortable sitting position now that he's hopefully done with his little episode. While stretching his legs and leaning back against the wall, he tentatively scoots closer to Hal, giving him plenty of time to either react negatively or adjust. One of the major things Dirk had to get used to was being around and being touched by other people, so that's probably a thing for Hal too.

"We can make things, like the computer shades, to make things easier for you, but I think a lot of it will just be practicing. If you don't... Hm. Well, you saw MY practicing stage; it majorly fucked up my relationships because I had no idea of what I was doing. So, you know, if you want someone to practice on who will understand we can do that. I mean, I won't promise to be perfect, but I also won't abandon you to go cave adventuring for days without a fucking word."

 

Hal finds himself smiling, as he listens to Dirk complain about faces too, and then talking. Not out of any pleasure at the memories of Dirk struggling to do something, fuck that would be a really dick move given that he's trying to help right now and certainly has no obligation to, but rather the reminder that he's not the only one of their strange, extended family who struggles or has struggled with this shit is... it's nice. Comforting, anyway, at the very least. "Thanks. That... that actually helps a lot. It's nice to know someone else thinks I can improve, I suppose? I have my doubts sometimes."

Whoa ok, that was a little more than Hal meant to share (he's got to stop doing that; he's not a Dave, he has a functioning brain-mouth filter - or at least he thought he did.) He takes his hand back from Dirk's shoulder, and starts to draw his legs up to his chest again before wincing slightly and letting them lay out on the floor instead. His knees are still kinda sore, and one of the many things he's failed to develop so far is a good tolerance of pain. He should go hit his head against the wall a few times maybe, that'd help by both getting him used to pain and killing off a few braincells, and hey he might get lucky and whack some of the pain-related ones. Hal is... very much aware that Dirk's moved closer, and he sits quite still with his hands in his lap. Then he crosses his arms, leaning back against the wall. His arm is nearly touching Dirk's and he's so very aware of it.

"I don't." He swallows, tries again. "I don't want computer shades. I know they'd be more convenient but I- I can't, I'm sorry." It is literally fucking impossible to stuff him into a pair of shades as he is, there's way too much meat and bone and skin and so on, and he's so aware that it's stupid to be scared of the idea of a pair of fucking glasses with a computer in them but being aware that it's stupid does not, annoyingly, help it to not be a thing at all. "I'd... appreciate the opportunity to practice, though. Normal human interaction I mean."

 

Dirk is hyper aware of Hal right now, he doesn't want to fuck up even more if possible, so the tiny wince is concerning. "Are you hurt? I think we've become something of a legs expert in the past months so there's something wrong..." Now he's just brother hening.

He also notices how still and tense Hal becomes and starts to move away, but stops when Hal speaks. "Oh. I didn't realize. Of course you don't have to use computer shades if they make you uncomfortable. We'll have to figure out another way for you to communicate through text quickly. Don't be sorry, it's... understandable, now that I actually think about it. You're okay." Gently, ever so carefully, Dirk leans his shoulder into Hal's, ready to pull back if it upsets him. Dirk pretends it's about practice, and not about comforting the guy he's so egregiously fucked over.