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[ he nods anyway though, to that. it's all he's doing right now, after all. the basic 'here i am, alive.' he's also having kind of an existential crisis about it. it's hard dying and coming back.

he still has no idea how many dead daves are lost to the universe.

but what connor says makes sense even if dirk is having trouble really grasping it as anything past a hypothetical. he doesn't blanch at the comment about the dragon anymore, having got over it since last time.

he rubs his thumb over the back of his glove a moment, trying to figure out how to answer. ]

Most things felt like they weren't worth it, before. Nothing seemed important except what I had to do to keep going. Not having something to grasp onto is... [ scary, he doesn't say. he just shakes his head. ]

It's not good.

what kind of cake does your friend like ill make you a lil shopping list based on that n you can come over.... uh one sec

[After a moment, a screenshot of a calendar app comes through, with Connor's work schedule for the week noted on it.]

I can't thank you enough Ceej!

that's a really good question with no perfect answer! things weren't great back home. a lot of people were going hungry. he'd probably be happy with anything!

[ The people who designed these devices really understand user-friendliness, since it's the first time he's looked at this app, his even provides a very brief suggestion on what to do with this screen.

He picks a day prior to the 6th but specifics are pointless when time is meaningless. ]

do you think dave will be there? if he is, I'll have to get enough to make three of these!

[Connor briefly has a moment of Emil knows Dave? before realizing that yeah. Of course Emil knows Dave. Dave's a lonely idiot. Dave would make friends with a people-shaped bush.]

idk he has the key to my apartment so he just shows up whenever i can tell him to come if you want but he cant help bc hes an actual disaster in the kitchen

[Then Connor sends a relatively normal list of ingredients for a chocolate cake, minus the last item which reads jimmies (optional).]

[ Emil was surprised to find out Dave and Connor knew each other. Dave less so, because apparently Connor collects wayward gay dumbasses. ]

really? that's definitely not something worth teasing him over later!

[ As one might guess Emil intends on teasing him later. ]

if it's not too much trouble. he helped me out with something and I want to express my gratitude!

[ Presumably, the third cake is for Connor, for his help. ]

[Connor, who doesn't expect anything out of doing things for other people, assumes the third cake is for Emil. Why he assumes this, when he knows Emil can't eat, is beyond everyone, including Connor.]

one time im like "can you put some water on to boil while i get changed" and im gone for like five minutes tops and the fire alarm is going off so now hes banned from my kitchen

[He's leaving out the fact that there was probably a ruby-related mishap involved in this story, but he's the one telling it so he can spin it however he wants. Sorry, Dave.]

anyway its whatever making three cakes isnt any different from making one cake

Yeah. I would say some stupid shit like "it'll get better" or whatever, but I'm not like that and it doesn't. It just gets... less. I don't not want to die, I just... don't actively want to die?

[Connor's hand drops back down to his lap and he looks down, voice quiet.]

And I know that sounds like it's not worth it. Like, what's the point if life always fucking sucks? But there's good shit too and the hardest thing to learn was that sometimes... sometimes that's enough.

[ Doing nice things for the sake of them being nice things to do is great but how much of this is, say, making up for one's assumed or realized shortcomings? because same ]

he burned WATER? okay, he's not allowed anywhere near the stove, got it!
it's not whatever! don't be so humble, you're really helping me out.
anyhoo, I want to know how you're doing! did you make it through monster week okay? change into anything interesting?

[Connor looks off into the distance for a moment, eyes slightly unfocused.]

He won't wake up yet. [Then, realizing that sounds ominous as shit:] Sorry, I mean. He's still sleeping. Do you need help with anything else? I'm already gory as shit.

[He's actually not. His hands are nearly clean except for the smearing of blood on his fingertips from the actual process of sewing. Sometimes, your weird musical theatre powers mean you don't actually get blood on you because there's no blood budget. Don't worry about it.]

I don't believe platitudes like that anyway.

[ he watches him, quiet, and finally takes off the stupid, broken glasses to set them on the coffee table. not being able to see properly through the cracks was starting to get to him: it reminded him of the shattered mirror from his nightmares.

the nightmare dave saw.

he hums thoughtfully and then shrugs, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and hands clasped. ]

I get to see Dave again. That's not a little thing. I was resigned to never seeing him again, but now...

[ he shakes his head. he's not going to expound on their home life even in a heart to heart like this even though it hit him like a sack of bricks when he was in talking to dave. ]

Having him around makes it both easier and harder all at once.

Yeah. Sometimes people don't forgive you or they forgive you and it's still awkward or they stole your life and you hate them because they probably had a better time living it than you did but it's also kind of your fault for doing some other thing and in the end you still make sure they're alive or whatever because shit's complicated and you have some weird guilt about it.

[That last one is, uh, very specific? He's maybe still working through his feelings about Evan Hansen. Connor shrugs, and tries not to think about how there's probably something he should be reading into the fact that both Dirk and Dave keep taking their sunglasses off around him. That sounds like examining himself, though, and Connor has never in his life been up for that.]

Shit happens. If my sister showed up here I'd probably expire on the spot.

its just a cake dw abt it

[>thinks about the fact that all his physical transformations have been kind of... sex-related and embarrassing
>thinks about who he's talking to]

i dont seem to transform like other ppl really which i guess is a good thing

[ you know what, sure. sure, that ominous comment is fine even though he grips the edge of the counter until connor amends it.

he's openly surprised by the lack of blood on connor's hands, but he shakes his head and stands. he stretches, winces one (one) time, then shakes his head again. ]

I already owe you for stitching me up. I'll take care of this then go shower and get rid of these clothes.

[ uhhhh that last one stills him, and he hazards a glance over at him. he doesn't comment on it though, because it feels personal and even though connor is prying at him, he doesn't want to assume or pick at old wounds.

maybe he should be meaner, but he's tired.

there is definitely something about the striders taking off their glasses around him, even if connor refuses to examine it.

anyway dirk sits back again before looking at him more and finally shrugging. ]

I just never saw myself as someone needing to have heart-to-heart conversations about anything. Things are what they are, and if you can't change them you can't change them.

You're missing the point.

[Connor dramatically flops backward over the arm of the coach. He doesn't let himself be dramatic very often, but he's already dressed dramatically and he might as well act the part.]

It's not about, like, changing the past? We're having this awful conversation so you know you're not alone and shit and because you can't, like, get better without acknowledging that you have to bury the skeletons in the closet. I should have gotten high before I showed up here. I'm too sober for this conversation and it makes me want to die metaphorically and not literally.

[ That's more than fair. ]

hey! that's lucky! I think?
most people are either annoyed or don't like it. not that I blame them!
I mean, one day you're just living your life and the next minute you're sprouting all kinds of stuff your body didn't have before.
Dave got ears he hated, even if, between you and me, I still think they were cute.
and my friend got horns, the biggest bat wings I've ever seen and dark scales all over his body. it was a little scary at first, but he looked really

anyway, I even got to be more like my old self again! so it isn't all bad, there's just no predicting how it will go.
what's dwabt?

"don't worry about"

its not like transformation is a big deal though it wouldnt be the first time some stupid shit has happened to me and at least it seems less awful than some of the stuff ive been through

idk like ive been through annoying god shit before n this is a lot more annoying in some ways but in other ways its whatever i really dont give a shit about 90% of it

[Sometimes, when he uses the weirder aspects of his powers, he forgets that they're... unpleasant. To other people. He can get a glimpse at the trajectory of what's happening at any given moment, but it always comes out of his mouth ominously. Connor stands, taking a deliberate step back.]

Do you want me to stay? I can go.

You don't have to go. I'm not about to tell you to leave.

[ he starts to rummage under the sink for some cleaners and a cloth, but pauses as he looks over toward the blood all over the floor. ]

Fuck, I don't have a mop.

[ connor doesn't know how bad those skeletons are, and he's not going to divulge that part of his relationship with dave to anyone. ever.

he snorts at the drama, looking down at the floor and flexing his fingers, the creak of leather grounding.

when he speaks it's even but low. ]

I think one of my problems is I don't know what to do with myself here. I've been celibate of my own choice for over a decade for so many reasons and I don't know if I want to change that or not. That's the most present problem I have.

[ he sighs, gripping his knee briefly. ]

It is good to know I'm not alone in the overall sweep of it, though. I don't... want to die again, not really, I know Dave doesn't want me to, but I'm tired.

I volunteer as tribute. [He raises his hand, but doesn't get up from where he's flopped down.] Please fuck me. I deserve it.

[Connor lets his hand drop and goes back to being exhaustingly serious. He owes Tim something nice whenever he gets back. Tim put up with so much shit from him.]

For real though, living is exhausting. Dave's always making fun of how much I work, but it's so I don't have free time to think about how much I don't want to live. Which is different than wanting to die, you know? I don't want oblivion I just want it to... stop.

Careful what you say, I might say yes. Not like you don't know my horrible secret already.

[ wry. there's no fire behind the "horrible" for once, though, like he's slowly come to terms with connor knowing he's gay.

in any case, he hums noncommittally at first, then runs his tongue over his teeth. ]

If I'm intending to do it for a while, I may as well figure out what the fuck to do to keep me busy. I don't actually want to build a smuppet empire, though the sewing keeps me busy well enough. There's just not enough of a niche market for them in a place so openly sexual.

[Connor lets Dirk talk, like maybe they're having a normal conversation and he's listening instead of having a bunch of really horny thoughts about I might say yes. While Dirk's talking Connor rummages around in his bag before finding the tinted lip balm he keeps in there and putting it on. All it does is give him the look of someone who's been well-kissed, really. Then he slides off the couch and sinks to his knees and looks up at Dirk.]

I can think of a few things to keep you busy. [It's absolutely artless and vulnerable.] I really wasn't kidding about volunteering.

[ well. as soon as the lip gloss comes out he just knows he's in trouble because ginger would do the same fucking thing, fix up her lipstick before whispering in his ear to get him to go back home with her.

it worked every time.

he looks down at connor in front of him and he'd be lying if he said he didn't look good like that. he swallows once before reaching out like he's going to brush a hand over his hair, then pauses, hand hovering over him. he's remembered something, suddenly, and he has the presence of mind to ask: ]

Can I touch you?

[ that's a step toward becoming a normal person, at least. asking before doing. he always listened to a no, but he'd initiate things without asking and take the punishment later if he misstepped. ]

Don't grab my arms below the elbow, anything else is fair game.

[As he says it, he marks the area he's talking about on his left arm. Elbow to wrist, or the exact area that's littered with faint scars on both his arms. There's something slightly practiced about the way he says it, the choreographed nature of the way he maps out the area. Like he's said it before, lots of times.]

And you? Can I touch you?

[It doesn't really matter to Connor if Dirk says yes or no. He's not... touchy-feely about sex. He can keep his hands to himself, if that's what Dirk wants.]

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cw: actually assume every tag from here forward is about suicide somehow

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