"TP&MA" Verse and "Is This Weird?" Verse Homestuck RP Mashup Extravaganza (NSFW)

Dirk snickers, letting his head loll back.
"I don't know if he experiences it like we would, but when he is overheating it's similar, yes. He's alright though. He'd have messaged me before leaving if he needed intervention or anything." He taps his shades. "An advantage in having an android for a boy-" He can't actually say it, so he just shrugs. "Whatever we are." Dirk's fingers twitch, and he rushes to fill the slightly awkward silence he created. "He's a wifi hotspot, too. Dude has his fingers in so many technological pies he's gone and put the cyberbaker out of business because the hygiene inspectors came by and caught him in the act. I'm pretty sure that if he put his mind to it, he could DoS any site out there. Changing the fonts on major government pages to comic sans and replacing all the photos with dicks would be more his style though."

 

***
It's nice to hear Dirk saying good things about his gay robot boyfriend. "My boyfriends could never even aspire to be that useful. Egderp couldn't computer his way out of a paper back, and Karkles would find a way to program himself into the bag, and then set it on fire." He's almost feeling ready to head downstairs, maybe check on the aforementioned nerds, but he wants to wait for Hal.

"Does Hal have any plans for his internet super powers? I mean, he's no Freakazoid but surely having the internet in your brain is useful for something besides sending Roxy pictures of cats. Not that he has to do anything with his talents. I was just wondering. Wait, you probably didn't watch Freakazoid... huh..." Dave is still pretty concerned about Hal even with Dirk's reassurances. "You know, even if he doesn't need anything it might still be kind of nice if I could do something. You're helping me right now, and he helped you, it seems elegant to close the circle. The Circle of Dumb Strider Manpain."

 

Dirk sucks on the inside of his cheek, considering.
"I don't think so. We haven't talked about it. He hasn't shown any inclination to suddenly get involved in cyberwarfare that I'm aware of." His teeth dig into his cheek, then release, and he tastes a faint copper tang. "I don't keep tabs on anything that isn't related to my personal communications. If you want to help, maybe get him an ice pack for the back of his neck? He'll be cooling down though, so you might just want to pass it through a crack in the door so you don't get an eyeful of android ass."

 

***
"Well, very few of us know what the fuck we want to do with ourselves right now. I don't think we HAVE to do anything if we don't want to. That's kind of nice." Dirk kind of seems like he might be working himself up about something again, so Dave butts his head gently against Dirk's cheek and cuddles him like only a slightly obnoxious sibling with a very poor understanding of personal space can.

"I'll do that thing soon. Not right this minute though."

 

Dirk lets his head flop to the side, cheek squishing on the top of Dave's head.
"Yeah. This is cool." He sends a message to Hal, just for a status update. There's a delay which is longer than he'd like, but not enough to warrant panic, before he gets one back assuring him that temperature levels are returning to normal, and he does not need assistance with manual ventilation. Which is great, because Dirk didn't bring anything but his most basic toolkit, and opening up a seam in the synthskin would be a major pain in the ass. "This house is actually pretty fuckin' pleasant to be in, if a little surreal. Never thought I'd be in the middle of suburbia without wearing diving gear."

Hal relaxes, bare back flat against the cooling bathroom tile. Under his breath, he recites pi. It's helping.

 

***
Dave spends the next few minutes breathing and shooting the shit with Dirk. They conclude that this planet's suburbia is pretty nice despite it's lack of fish, that John's room COULD be dorkier theoretically but science hasn't advanced quite that far, and that the dinner smell seeping up through the house doesn't even seem real.

"Do you think a gateway to nirvana opened down there? Maybe that's the actual heavenly scent of paradise wafting up to us. I'm about to head into the light Dirk, shepherded by John's dad into the land of lasagna and apple pie. Much better than milk and honey."

 

"I'm right there with you and ready to up and convert." Dirk rolls his neck from side to side, and it cracks. He eases onto his feet in a smooth movement, and extends his hand for Dave. "But before we can go through the gates and ascend we should probably collect Hal."

 

***
Dave takes Dirk's hand and pulls himself up. "Do you think he's ready to come out? I can still go get him that ice pack." There were better places to sit than slouched against the bed on the floor, but nothing that a quick stretch won't fix.

"Oh, and..." Dave offers up a slightly awkward but sincere smile. "Thanks for chilling with me up here."

 

The bedroom door opens by way of a reply and Hal shuffles inside, hair somewhat mussed from pulling his sweater back over his head, but wearing a smile.
"An ice-pack won't be necessary, although the offer is appreciated. I took some extra chill time just to monitor my systems and ensure that all parameters returned to optimal operational levels. " He tilts his head back a little, sniffs. "I am also hungry."
"Yeah, we were just heading down. " Dirk matches Dave's smile, and fuck it still feels weird to do that, makes his cheeks ache. It's not that happiness is a new emotion or anything, but showing it externally is still hells of bizarre. Not entirely unpleasant, though. "It was good. Sweet friendship hangs that don't involve dancing or shit like that are always good with me."

 

***
"And here I was about to ask you to the sockhop so that we could boogie down. Has someone actually tried to get you to go dancing though? I think I'd laugh them out of the room, no one needs to see my white boy shuffle." Plus Dave imagines that dancing would involve being very close to if not touched by strangers in a dim room, not something he's eager to try.

"Let's go see how Karkat and John managed being without us. Their Strider deficiency could have reached critical levels by now, with only the maximum dose of Strider able to save them."

Dave leads the way downstairs, expecting to see John and Karkat in the living room, but instead they've been roped into what looks like the few final kitchen tasks. Karkat is putting food on the table while John makes glasses of water happen. The lasagna looks gooey and delicious, along with a pot of mashed potatoes smelling heavily of garlic, and green salad. John's dad is putting dirty dishes into the sink and washing his hands, hilarious apron sadly abandoned.

John seems glad to see you all come down. "Hey guys! We were just going to get you."

 

"Yes, attempts have been made to engage me in what I can only describe as bullshit dancefloor shenanigans." Memory. Piercing neon. The laughter.
Dear fucking god the laughter.
"I imagine you would be able to pick up some style of dance without much issue," Hal muses as the group heads into the hallway. "It is simply a matter of learning and then committing choreography to muscle memory. At least the mechanics of it, if not the spirit. You might still be hampered on that front by the stick which is so lovingly jammed in your ass."
Dirk bites back a retort about extracting and beating Hal over the head with the proverbial stick, because despite himself he did smirk at that.
"I should try riverdance to ease into the idea then. Play to my strengths." He snarks in return, and Hal's circuits flash with delight at the banter.
"The way you move? You'd need to build a steel stage to dance on. How about ballet? You could be a pretty brollerina. I'll even let you borrow my legwarmers."
"I don't know, man. The poofy asshole pants were more than enough. I don't think I'm the kind of guy who could rock a tutu."
"Of course you aren't, with your silly organic hangups about appearance. I would be wearing the tutu."
"That's enough of this horseshit." Dirk puts out his hand, midway down the stairs. "Can you smell that?"
"Much to my continual delight, I can report that yes, as a matter of fact, I can smell that. And according to my calculations-"
"Oh my god."
"-Robocalculating...robocalculating..."
"Oh my god. That's still not funny."
"There is a ninety nine point nine nine recurring chance that this will be fucking delicious. And you remain incorrect, I am hilarious."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes."
"N-"
"Hey guys!" John's call breaks the loop before it can really get off the ground and obtain the Mad Air that the helicoptering debate is known for. "We were just going to get you."
"Yes, I predicted that, thanks to running some sweet calculations through my probability matrix," Hal says, and Dirk kind of wants to strangle him. "What I could not predict is how fucking good that lasagna would look. I'm going to have to document that recipe."

 

***
Dave is immensely relieved that Dirk and Hal seem to be having their version of a good time. He has zero delusions about them behaving themselves at dinner, but at least dadbert will get to experience what they're like when they're happy. John plops himself into a random seat at the round table and Dave moves two chairs down from him, leaving Hal and Dirk space. They will probably be more comfortable with some kind of buffer between them and John's dad, and Dave is willing to make that sacrifice.

Mr. Egbert walks in with various serving utensils and leans over the table to poke them into dishes before settling down himself next to where Dave is standing with his hands on the back of his chair.

"This shit-" Dave stutters and pinks slightly, he tries not to swear in front of Dadbert but it's hard. "Should be accompanied by a heavenly chorus or something. May angels sing you to rest in our bellies, sweet dinner."

"I am sure I could not have done it without your help earlier. Now please, everyone sit. It's a bit late and you must be starving."

Karkat dubiously takes a chair on the other side of John while seeming to study the Striders more closely than absolutely necessary.

 

Dirk and Hal sit as one, both inhaling deeply. Hal shudders. Dirk has to swallow a sudden flood of saliva.
Uncaptchaloguing his gloves, he pulls them on, reaches over the table, and grabs a decent size chunk of lasagne with his hands, dumping it directly onto his plate. He does the same thing for Hal.
"Dude. I didn't eat all day, I was preparing for this." He says, flashing teeth in a grin before scooping up some salad the same way. He sucks some leftover pasta sauce off his index finger. "And oh, sweet salty Fieri was it worth it."

 

~~~
John's eyes go WIDE but his dad just seems to smile at how eager his new guests are. "Well I hope it doesn't disappoint!" He turns to John and Karkat. "Here, hand me your plates. The dish is too hot to pass." Using the spatula, he cordons off the ragged holes in one corner of the pan and cuts the rest into neat squares before putting some on each empty plate passed his way. "I will definitely send you home with the recipe and any leftovers we have."

"Hal, can you hand me the salad? Thank you." John puts some salad into his salad bowl, where the salad goes, using the salad tongs, and passes the dish to Karkat. He pulls the pot of mashed potatoes toward himself before Dirk can stick his hand in THAT dish too and uses the serving spoon to scoop some out. He offers to do the same for Hal. "Do you want some potatoes?"

Karkat hisses at John. "You told me that humans don't touch food with their hands like trolls. Those ones do! Was that another dumbass prank?"

John starts to answer but his dad cuts him off. "Actually Karkat, it depends on the culture. Some human families all eat out of a communal pot, and others use pieces of bread to scoop food up. I'm sure the variation in customs is even wider in this new universe. Isn't that wonderful?"

***
For a second Dave wants to die. But then everyone just rolls with it and he shrugs the humiliation off like a cool dude. He smiles around the food in his mouth. "How hot is too hot to touch Karkat? That pan? Boiling water?" He tacitly leaves off adding the Strider booty but implies it heavily with an eyebrow.

 

Hal and Dirk wear identical expressions of confusion while these exchanges are going down, before Hal's transitions into one of dawning comprehension.
"Yes, please," he answers John, voice flat. About ten seconds later, Dirk's expression changes as well, and the tips of his ears flush bright red, along with the parts of his cheeks that aren't obscured by his shades. His head turns minutely to better look at Hal, and it would be very apparent to everyone watching that there was rapid-fire, silent communication passing between the two.
Hal's circuits flash, and Dirk's hand that was resting on table twitches. Then, stiffly, Dirk reaches out and grabs the salad tongs. Attempting to pick up a decent amount of salad results in some intense fumbling, and the tongs nearly spring free from his hand when he starts to withdraw them back toward his plate - but Hal's hand, faster than the eye can follow, curves around Dirk's, firming his grip in a split second. He releases just as quickly, and unless someone felt the disturbance in the air or was paying very close attention, his interference would likely go unnoticed.
Dirk replaces the tongs in the bowl, then studies the cutlery beside his plate for an extended period of time. Hal's circuits flash again. Dirk picks up the knife and fork, then swaps them into the correct hands. He stabs the lasagna with the fork, and there's a sharp screech of metal on porcelain that makes him wince and drop it. His shoulders shift, barely perceptible, as he takes a breath and then tries again with more success. Prodding at the pasta with the knife held awkwardly in his fingers, he manages to cut a ragged square free. Lifts it. Chews. Swallows. Puts it down.
"It's really good."

 

***
Both Dave and John's eyes snap to Hal's super fast movement. Really, the faster something moves the more likely Dave is to notice it. Thankfully John just smiles like he saw the cutest thing ever while Karkat and Dadbert seem not to notice. Dave goes from slight mortification to genuine sympathy, and pulls his phone out of his pocket under the table.

-- turntechGodhead began pestering technicalOdyssey --

TG: yo can you make a chatroom or copy this to dirk
TG: guys its seriously fine if you fuck up the forks and knives thing
TG: i was so scared to eat the first time i came here i think i managed three bites
TG: mr egbert thought i was sick
TG: karkat only recently stopped eating most things with the dainty tips of his claws
TG: what i mean is
TG: its okay
TG: but if you need a breather i got you
TG: just throw up the bat signal and ill have an extraction plan underway asap

Dadbert doesn't seem to notice any awkwardness, and continues chatting with Karkat about various human cultures vs. Alternia's cast tiered mono-culture. Dave leaves his phone on his lap and proceeds to demolish his lasagna. He figures a non-fussy eating example would be helpful, so he cuts his pasta with the side of his fork and scoops food into his mouth happily. Fuck dadbert's cooking is amazing.

When Dirk complements the meal Dadbert beams. "Thank you, I'm quite happy with how everything turned out. John assured me that you both would enjoy pretty much anything, but I am curious; what are your favorite foods? Do you enjoy pastries?"

John groans and rolls his eyes but Dadbert gives him a Stern Fatherly Look and he stops. Dave's smirk says Yeah, fuck you John, cake is amazing.

 

-- technicalOdyssey started pestering turntechGodhead --

TT: It is appreciated. Dirk and I have never had any occasion to use utensils. I only employed them for the sake of presentation of the finished dish, and as such did not deign to research into their social uses. Frankly I find it nonsensical to create extra labor after the meal is complete, but it seems that is the done thing in this part of the world.
TT: Thanks for the offer dude. I'll know if we need to bail. I appreciate you offering to drop the smoke bomb on our behalf so we can make an appropriately awesome ninja exit.

-- technicalOdyssey stopped pestering turntechGodhead --

Dirk eats with precise, mechanical movements, almost like he's imitating a tutorial.
Which he is.
But he'd never admit to having one running on his shades. But he's grateful as hell that Hal sent it over.
"Huh? Oh." He puts down the fork. Focusing on that and talking is beyond even his ability to multitask. "Yeah, pastries are amazing. Jane blew my goddamn mind when she gave me cake for the first time. Sure made a change from microwaved seagull, you know? Jane comes over every now and then and she and Hal do all kinds of arcane bullshit in the kitchen. Hal makes this thing sometimes that's got a fuckton- I mean, uh, a bunch, of layers - with this sweet white stuff. Cream I think? And this icing on top that's hella tasty, it's got like a shell that's all crisp when you bite it but it's soft in the middle. He makes these cool patterns with, fuck, uh, that stuff Roxy loves so much." His mouth twists for a second as he searches for the word to match the image in his head. "Chocolate."
"You're thinking of the mille-feuille," Hal says, beaming. "As for favourite foods-" Hal turns that smile on Dadbert, and Dirk trails into silence.
Partially because he realized he was rambling, and partially because Hal's dimples were on show and that always made his emotions do a weird thing that he had to focus on ignoring.
"-and of course anything that involves oranges, particularly navel ones. It's always enjoyable to see his reaction to tasting the actual fruit as opposed to the synthetic flavour of soda."

 

~~~
"Yes, Jane is quite a talented baker. I'm glad that she's using her gifts to spread the joy of chocolate. It's also lovely to hear that you enjoy feeding others, Hal, but what are your favorite foods?"

John looks at Dirk quizzically. "Holy shit, you microwaved and ate a seagull? Did you die?" His dad says "John." sternly at the swearing and he ducks his head down to his plate, feeling thoroughly chastised.

***
Dave talks a bit quietly to Dirk once Hal starts in on the topic of food. "Alt-me didn't give you any candy on your island? What the f- heck dude? I would like to apologize on his behalf."

 

Dirk's whole face is flaming now. It was rapidly becoming clear that he knew exactly jack about shit when it came to standard family living. He makes a note to do some serious study and observation when they get home, if he can survive the evening in the first place. Speaking of which.

-- timaeusTestified started pestering technicalOdyssey --

TT: This has all gone completely fucking pear-shaped.
TT: There's no way out of it, bro. You're going to have to decapitate me.
TO: What problems would that solve, exactly?
TT: The one in which I am alive and having to deal with that fact.
TO: No can do, bromine.
TT: Have some mercy dude, I'm dying here in all ways but the one that'd free me from this social hell.
TO: You need to tap out? I can make excuses if need be.
TT: ...
TT: Not yet. How are you holding up?
TO: Better than expected.
TO: Thank you for asking, Dirk. I appreciate that.
TT: Yeah, sure.

-- timaeusTestified is an idle chum! --

Dirk hits two birds with one stone and addresses both Dave and John together after taking a second to breathe and try and reclaim his chill from the fridge in which it had been chained, much like a certain soda-thieving chucklefucker.
"When you need to plan hundreds of years for the future, nutrition options are a little limited. Bro left me several metric fucktons of canned goods, a lifetime supply of soda. I think there were some candies in the apartment, but when I opened the wrappers shit was just a colony of mold." He shrugs, flush starting to recede as he steps back into safe conversational territory. "When I was...shit about six I think? The Condesce sent a drone crew who stole about half my stash. Probably just to fuck with me, or maybe give lil' me a sense of urgency. Bro'd given me enough to last me until I was about fourteen, but after that raid I had to start learning to hunt and fish. That was when I started workin' on Squarewave and training."
Dirk picks up his knife and fork, frowns, puts down the knife. He turns the fork on its side like Dave had done and tries that instead. Much simpler. He can practice and work on precision later.

Hal frowns, glancing at Dirk after that last reply before turning his attention back to Mr. Egbert.
"I don't know," he answers plainly. "Typically I don't consume the food I make, and my sample size is rather small. I enjoy the motions of eating, and collecting new tastes. I haven't had a strong negative reaction to contrast my typical one with."

 

~~~
Both John and his dad listen ardently to Dirk's story, and Karkat chokes on his food when the Condesce' drones are mentioned.

Karkat coughs to clear his throat and his voice comes out a bit strangled. "The empress sent drones after you?! Did you die?! That's ABSURD, how the fuck did you not die?!" John takes a moment to smooth his hand over Karkat's arm. The whole topic of drones tended to make Karkat anxious, which seems reasonable considering they'd have murdered all mutants on sight.

John's dad frowns seriously. "That is not something that should have happened to you Dirk, and I am glad that you are an incredibly resourceful and intelligent young man. I am positive that your guardian would be as proud of your survivals skills as I am."

When Hal mentions never having had a negative reaction to food before John practically vibrates with excitement. "Oh MAN. We need to try you on some gross food. Ever heard of Berty Bott's Every Flavor Beans? I doubt this universe has them but maybe Roxy can make something similar. There are so many interestingly horrible tastes out there; natto, runny cheese, those bugs that Karkat eats- Ow!" Karkat flicked him in the ear! Uncool.

His dad placates them with a "Now boys." before turning back to Hal and smiling. "Well, please don't feel obligated to eat if you don't want to, but if you are interested in trying a variety of things I would be happy to help introduce you to all kinds of food. I already send care packages to the Lalonde household regularly. I imagine for just the flavor you'd only need a single bite, but I'm sure Dirk could figure out something to do with the rest."