[S] Dave: Strife Party

[Dave Strider]

Dave gave a calm stare towards the large molded mountain, smoke bursting from its sides, along with the steady flow of lava. It reminded him so much of his land, as well as the friends that were still not here, It was like the meteor all over again. However, he could also feel a rising tension around him, the same he felt when he had to leave the mayor's side. Once he felt that rise in tension he knew he was no longer in the Alpha timeline. Something had changed. Maybe things weren't all the same here, but he knew that where he was now, that he was in more danger than ever. But then again, maybe he was just overthinking this and it was only--

A soft, plush object fell by Dave's feet. He didn't even need to look down as he reached out to the side and swung over it with his sword in a sweeping motion and jumping back, feeling the sword split the obnoxious puppet's ass clean in half. He was definitely in a doomed timeline. His bro was no doubt here, and that only meant that he was about to receive the ass kicking of his life. But LOHAC would freeze over before he would go down without a fight. 

The Knight of Time gritted his teeth, clutching Caledscratch in both hands as he glanced left and right behind his shades, waiting for the movement that brought back horrid childhood memories. Countless strifes. Countless beatings from shitty katanas. In the distance, he could hear others, but they weren't a part of his focus, however, it would be better if he could hide among others. Quickly, he dashed across the molten surface of the Ashen Steppes, stopping right before the group. 

"Anyone seen a douche in anime glasses holding a creepy ass puppet?"

Dave didn't really need an answer. He could already feel that his bro was close. Hopefully that slight diss would bring him out of hiding.

[Marisa Kirisame]

*Well, well what do we have here Chara said with an interested tone. As she saw the molded mountain  *It seems we have some one speeking about a idiot? Chara giggles like maniacally. *This is cute we have a ninja wana-be here. as Chara smiles she sees him cut a puppet in two. *Wha... why did that look like Asriel I could have sworn that was Asriel As Chara is almost to the point of tears *No I will not let my brother be killed by this little Monster* Chara feels a burning sensation. *Well what do I feel its something I've never felt truly before, wait I know this feeling its remorse* As Chara got up she said to her self *Well he is going to die now for what he did to my best friend* Chara glitches to where Dave is *Hey you think you are funny huh?* Chara begins to have her body smoke jet black she contorts her face into a jet black face with red eyes and a red smile *When where you the one in control?*

[ElFailzalot]

Typical Dave.

He was on the ball today, figuring it out right away. He had a very special guest watching his shenanigans. The whole puppet thing? A gag. His reaction? Priceless, as expected.

Now, though...now it was time to get real. Dave was ready for another encounter of the tough love kind. Beat him down, toughen him up; make him hate his life, and more specifically, his older brother...make him get strong enough to handle the chaos he threw at him constantly, to get him ready for the trials ahead of him. SBURB was not a forgiving game. And Dave's Bro had done everything he could to make sure the little guy was ready for it, in his own way.

And now here he was. A survivor of the game. Kind of. Brought here to this fucked up place where the normal rules were left by the wayside and replaced with the whimsy of someone that may or may not have been some alternate universe's First Guardian.

Lounging on a shelf of rock above the scene, the elder Strider brother peered down at the ongoing events as Dave advanced over to some group of random losers. Who even were these clowns?

""Anyone seen a douche in anime glasses holding a creepy ass puppet?"

Whoa wait hold up. Take the phone off the hook, hold onto it real tight, and listen up; that wasn't cool. Dissing Bro was one thing; dissing his shades was a most rude affront; but dissing Lil' Cal?

"Dave, you done fucked up now."

In a flash he was on his feet, hopping upright as if he'd never been sitting down. But before he could engage in bringing down the fist of Cal upon his brother's uppity smack-spewing ass, someone else rudely inserted themselves into the mix. In a rather unsettling way.

A flicker of movement was all that was there. First nothing. Then a blink, and suddenly the shades-wearing, monochrome-clad, ridiculous hat-wearing form of the elder Strider brother was there, looming large and imposing over the scene, sheathed katana resting on one shoulder, his shadow falling over the young girl making the crazy eyes at Dave. "Hey. That sure is a murderous expression you got there. And I can't help but notice you got it aimed at my bro." He lowered his beshaded gaze down to rest on Dave.

"Yo, little bro. You feelin' like a bad enough dude to have this crazy multi-way tussle? Strife while you strife?" A menacing gleam rolled along the rim of his shades, coming to a sparkling end at the very point of the right lens.

[Chloe Price]

James Locke looks ahead at the chaos unfolding. A girl with eyes of red, facing a figure of pure white skin, shades and a katana. The Dreamer begins wondering if he should intervene before things go rotten. Neither of them looked entirely human, and the girl in particular seemed somewhat Nightmare-like. If the destined hero intervenes, it isn't entirely likely that he'll walk away from this hellscape. But at the same time, he's not sure the white figure is entirely able to hold his own.

Then, another figure drops in. A similar pure-white skin color, and matching katana and shades to match that of the other. However, this one looks definitely more mature, though his ridiculous hat would argue otherwise. He was taller and somewhat slimmer than the other. The first figure's brother, if the Dreamer was right.

"Hey. That sure is a murderous expression you got there. And I can't help but notice you got it aimed at my bro." the man says, only proving the Dreamer's original assumption. He then turned his head towards his brother. "Yo, little bro. You feelin' like a bad enough dude to have this crazy multi-way tussle? Strife while you strife?" A menacing gleam meets the figure's shades.

Now it's settled. Practically two against one, with the advantage going towards the taller figure and the red-eyed girl. With a pure scowl on his face, focused in the younger figure's direction, the Dreamer holds out his hands with palms extended outwards. Two katanas - one white with a black handle, and the other black with a white handle, form with a flash of light. James' signature weapons - katanas Zephyr and Pearl, to be specific - have formed. He grips the two katanas readily, then runs towards the encounter.

"Mind if I cut in?" the Dreamer asks, setting a menacing glare in Chara's direction.

[Kurusu Akira]

Dougal was having what most would call a pretty rough day. For him, it was average, but that didn't make it suck any less. He was starting to feel one of the side effects of the blood ministration. Namely, blood withdrawl. He hadn't fought, hadn't killed, in so long, that he was starting to get twitchy. His senses were going wild, picking up the sound of his own heartbeat and the hearts of others in a mismatched cacophony of thumps, and he barely remembered where he was. The bloodlust had become a basic need since he started the Hunt, a requirement to fuel the Dream. The lack of blood echoes was causing the Dream to break down, and since it was held within his mind, it was causing him to break down as well. It wouldn't kill him, probably not anyway, but it was going to be damned painful until it did.

The hard part about today was the Hunter not wanting to hurt civilians, a concern he hadn't had to worry about in Yharnam. Sure, he could've hunted down a stray Koopa or Goron, exsanguinated them, sated his hunger that way, but he wasn't Izzy. He didn't want to be Izzy, no matter how much her Beastblood growled and snarled within him. He wanted to help people. He spotted a scene in the distance; a man looming over a couple children, sword across his shoulders. Unwilling to wait and see, he jumped to the first possible conclusion, that this was a justifiable person to attack, and drew his saw spear from his back, snapping it into the extended position with a loud click as he began approaching with a steady, if strange, gait, moving like the Old Hunters; loose but ready to move at a moment's notice. Izzy had called it The Quickening.

Dougal wasn't in the state of mind to call it anything.

[Gamzee Makara]

Gamzee snorted. He snorted and snickered and sallied-forth. Walking with a lazy little sway, the clown assesses his situation and finds that he doesn't quite like it. Ash caked his favorite canvas shoes, staining the white inlaid. He really wasn't happy about being here, not happy at all. The lack of chill vibes in the Ashen Steppes was just straight up unmiraculized miraculous. Or Something. Whatever. He was about to turn the Ashen Steppes into the Bashin' Steppes.

Ha.

He came to this disappointing deadish place because there was a serious disturbance in the Mirth. Something biznasty was here, something that the Mirthful Messiahs DEMAND be excommunicated from their presence. Because they're everywhere, man. Everywhere. Even in this forsaken place, in this forsaken universe. Miracles.

Ahaha. Thar she blows. Sunshades. Broken sword. Punchline bowl cut. Ironic attitude. Yep, thats the one. Shimmer shimmer, rainbow-y glimmer. Twin pins omniricalize into existence, tight ivory filling Gamzee's palms.

"Blasphemous Cretin!" He shouts, his voice the rage of thunder and the sharpness of lightning.

Yes. Gamzee remembers this one well. From that fateful day, when he was exposed to such sacrilege. This was the boy behind the video link. This was the man that forced "Insane Clown Pussies" into his life. Well, right here is where it ends. Right here is where that heresy is put to rest. The others there? The creepy lookin' motherfuckers? The Clown Prince of Rhyme doesn't even notice them. They are insignificant in this grand scheme of things. If they get in his way, they die. That's all there is to it.

With a magnificent twirling of clubs, the neon colors dance, even in the darkness of the Steppes.

"I'm about to kick the wicked truth 'atcha. The Clownish Inquisition is underway, motherfucker."

[Dave Strider]

"Ah, fuck."

Dave could only call out in surprise and utter disbelief as he seemed to be attacked from three sides at once, trying to focus on the abilities he could use to defend himself. He let time around him slow, just enough so that he could plan his attack, gripping Caledscratch tightly, his knuckles white as he took his stance, wrinkling his mouth in a cool, calm gesture as his heart pounded like a stampede of three-legged horses, all fucking up at once and becoming a garbled mess of thunder and hooves as what would be known as the worst idea in history. Kids are going to be taught that in history class, gonna be taking tests and failing that shit because they don't know what three-legged horses have to do with history that that will be how the education system fails. But now, in this moment. Dave needed to stay chill, keeping his eyes on, one.. two ..three assailants. First, let's order them based on how bad they are gonna fuck us up.

Bro. Dave knew that he already lost as soon as his bro joined the fight. Lucid memories of that faithful day when he was forced to fight Lil Cal reigned in his mind. he could only guess how long bro had been in the omniverse, but there was no doubt in what he had seen already that he kept his miraculous speed. Dave took a moment to prep his status. "Yeah, I just got my ass handed to me by my bro. Again."

Then the Juggalo Fuck Clown. Didn't Karkat say that guy killed like half the trolls back on the meteor before they got there? Apparently he was super pissed about those videos he showed the guy so long ago. What a fucking douche, he actually took that all seriously? Either way, that dude is fucking crazy, and closing in fast, for that matter. 

Then there was the weird kid, what was up with her. The way she spoke, it sent chills down his spine. She seems oddly stoic and just... creepy. These fucks were really gonna make him spawn back at the fountain weren't they, heroic, just , or just fucking brutal murder. The other two guys seemed a bit off too, but at least they weren't completely focused on him. theEither way, fuck it. Striders don't go down without a fucking fight.

A slight grin took to the Knights mouth for a moment as he swung at the air and gave a display of acrobatics, flipping backward and landing in a primed position, waiting for the others to advance in just the right spots. Time for a remix of this place.


First, the guy with the spear lunged out towards the group, Bro easily being the one to deflect it as the other guy began his assault on the creep kid, leaving the Troll dude free to move. With his hand raised Dave summoned a Timetable, smirking as he focused on his personal timeline, until in a red flash the clown was halt by a flurry of acrobatic attacks, barely managing to raise his pins in defense at a rain of blows came from the acrobatic fucking pirouette above him, slamming down on him and managing to make a cut on his shoulder. The duplicate Strider continued his assault as the Juggalo fought back, pushing forward as the duplicate Dave fought back.

Dave allowed  the Juggalo to continue until the group behind them shot out two people, one being bro and the other being the spear. wielding guy. Bro immediately took to the side, disappearing in a flash of speed as the spear dude just straight aimed a thrust as the troll, scraping his back as the gray-skinned teen turned in a flurry of aggression, whacking him off the side of the head with a pin with a monstrous roar of rage. 

Dave immediately canceled his duplicate, taking his sword in both hands just in time to deflect a blow from his left, keeping his ground before side stepping at countering his shaded assailant, consequently turning the fiasco into a trade of parried strikes and acrobatics as Dave made several attempts to subdue his Bro. Just then, Bro pulled out Lil Cal, causing Dave to grit his teeth at the site of the damned doll, raising his word in defense from the impending aggressive smothering. 

"Come at me Bro." Dave said with a smirk.

768 words

[Marisa Kirisame]

As Chara looked over she saw a older boy that had one sword in each hand who said "Mind if I cut in?" With a menacing glare in her direction, as she readied for the incoming attack . Then he attacked Chara, but missed barely as she "glitched" out of the swords. *Well I guess that he wants me dead, like most other people here, I just wanted to kill the person who killed my brother*
*Well this is not what I had in mind, but you have to try harder than that* as Chara dodged an attack from the wielding swords man. *well you will die now* as Chara readied a barrage of attacks she saw the person who angered her. The person what trying to stop what ever the older brother had in store for him, then the older brother brought out a puppet that brought chills to her spine. *Your done for human* as she released her barrage of attacks at James, she looked at her handy work as she walked forwards confident that she could not have another distraction she heard footsteps coming from the dust she had made. As she watched James walk out of the dust cloud with merely scratches on him *What, how did you survive that attack, it would take anyone normal down for the count?* as she started to sweat from the toll her attacks had on her, and the hits she did take from random blows. *Well I think its time to end this once and for all.* As she turned to where the younger brother was fighting she "glitched" to where she would have the best chance to hit the younger brother.

*Well lets take a look at who is here and fighting ,we got the douche that killed Asriel, the older brother of said douche, a duel wielding ninja wanna be, a stupid looking clown who wants to kill said reasons for killing the douche that I don't know, a ugly looking thing with a saw spear type thing that attacked the older brother who said something about a strife*

*Die you dirty brother killer* as her voice grew colder still, to the younger brother as she released her largest barrage she had made yet, about ten slashes then as she gave the flash from her knife they were released at different places to give the best chance of hitting him. Argh said some of the bystanders as they were hit by her attacks, then she heard screams from the group of bystanders and they started to flee in different directions just to get away from the fighting. Then after that attack she felt a surge of energy from the exp. and lv. but as she started to say *You....Idiots do you really think I can lose to the likes of all of you people* she felt a pain in her arm as James stabbed her right arm right under the elbow to the point that it was cut off by sheer force .
*Argh..... huff....puff you really want me dead don't you?* as she smiled at the now upper arm cut off. *You just wanted to see me suffer* as she grabed her knife with her left hand, her good hand. *Well this is where I disappear* as Chara "glitched" over and over even though she could not hold it with her endurance she was running on determination now *Well I guess you can die now* as she tried with all her might to at least get something to kill James before she almost ran out of determination. *Huff.....Puff oh dear this is not going to plan at all* as she tried to "glitch" she failed to go anywhere. *What, why can't I "glitch" anymore?* as James inched closer and closer to her, she felt fear because she had done all she could do except try to block James attacks by parrying his attacks, that's when she remembered something about sans that was very ironic, Keep attacking they can't dodge forever. *Oh dear no no no no no, I cant die now, not when the smiley trashbag that killed Asriel is still alive*

 word count 708 words 

[Chloe Price]

James' eyes are focused upon the demonic girl's. He had taken off the upper part of her right arm through sheer force. But she looked angry, able to fight, still. Definitely a Nightmare. He might as well just end her right here. He swings Zephyr straight for her head, but she deflects with her knife. James' eyes darted around the room. He focuses on the tall, white figure. Still engaged in battle with the smaller one. He laid out a puppet, which judging by the face of the younger one, wasn't exactly appreciated.

"Come at me bro." the smaller figure said. It was obvious that he was ready for a fight, but it was unlikely he was about to win. The taller figure likely had the upper hand - no pun intended - in this fight.

Once the Nightmare is down, the tall one is next.

Quickly and unflinchingly, James disarms the Nightmare girl with a harsh strike from Pearl. He swiftly followed this up with a kick to her forehead, before turning his katanas with an inverse grip and charging her. She narrowly avoids the attack, dodging to her left and once again re-arming herself.

"I know the secret of nightmares like you." James says. He's getting somewhat out of breath, but he can keep fighting. The knife is swung for his neck, but he deflects with a well-timed strike from Zephyr.

"You want me to fear you."

She runs at James, and quickly slashes thrice, each strike making their mark - two of them creating slashes on his right arm, and one on his stomach.

"...But I don't..."

She attempts an attack at his ankles, aiming low. James jumps the attack, and points his katanas downward, at Chara.

"...I will never fear the likes of you."

Chara runs about 10 inches from the point of impact. James lands, his katanas nearly cracking under the pressure of coming into contact with solid ground. The Nightmare girl's menacing gaze meets that of the Dreamer's. Katanas Zephyr and Pearl are shining, as is the knife that is the weapon of the First Human.

"In my line of work, fear is not an option."

The Dreamer breaks out into a mad dash, his target being the Nightmare girl before him. When he closes the distance between them, the response from the girl...Is not quite what he expected.

"Since when were you the one in control?"

She starts charging an attack. Locke just prepares himself for impact as her knife turns red. She raises it, and starts unleashing a barrage of slashes. Hit after hit lands, a state of anger and pain falling over the Dreamer. When the hits stop, scratches and slashes are all over his body. But he's still here, standing before the Nightmare girl, his eyes locked on hers.

"If you want a fight, you've got one." James says, focus still trained upon her. "I don't think you know who I am, but I am James Locke. The DREAMER. I've slain more Nightmares like you than you could imagine. Some of them more threatening than you."

He swaps his katanas back around, having been holding Zephyr and Pearl in an inverse grip since he swapped to it earlier.

"If you wanna try your luck, see if you can play your cards right, go ahead and try. But it isn't likely to work."

Chara's focus remains on the Dreamer, as she simply readies her weapon, not phased by his threats. They're both fairly out of breath, but they got a bit of a chance to recover here.

"...I guess your choice has been made."

((Word count: 620.))

[Gamzee Makara]

*Ka-THUNK!*

*Ka-THUNK!*

*Ka-THUNKKa-THUNKTHUNKTHUNKTHUNKTHUNK*

The barrage of blows from a different timeline come in a never ending assault, one that Gamzee struggles to keep up with; Gotta admit, motherfucker’s got some moves. A snip here, a slice on his cheek. Little nicks break through the clown’s sloppy defenses, but that’s all they are; little pinches to remind him he is alive.

Alive.

The sword pattern this clone uses is actually quite simple. The only thing mucking up the troll’s March on the Heretics is the sheer speed employed by the defunct timeline. Eventually, however, a flaw is found. A horizontal slash is halted by a single club, leaving the other free to crash into the Dave’s midsection. The fake rasps for the lost air escaping his lungs, and Gamzee can’t help but giggle as his foe falls to his knees before disappearing in a red shimmer, assumedly back to his own timeline.

No more distractions. Only purple haze and acid rain drops. Jovially, the clown puts on a small little act, juggling his ivory weapons high into the air as he advances towards his goal. Their arc wavers as he walks, the sound of rolling and hissing ash at his footsteps. His eyes never leave their mark. After a few cycles, the juggalo deftly catches his tools of mirth.

“Fancy tricks, brother. The warm-up is all kinds of obliged,” he begins with a forced smile. “But now, it’s time for the show to start. The greatest show on earth!”

Hysteria creeps into the clown’s voice. His entire being starts to shake, brimming with righteous and holy fury. Death and decay, that’s all that fills this place. Why should he not assist the universe in the degrading of this horrid place?

Bursting into action, Gamzee closes the distance between him and his prey. Clubs out stretched for the kill, the smack, the wonderful crack of breaking bones-

Wh-

The juggalo freezes, face inches apart from Dave’s. However, his eyes are no longer focused on the righteous killing at hand. Instead, they are frozen, held in place by some mystical force, staring, glaring, raring to go. The two gems of sickly amethyst will not leave the puppet.

The puppet.

The puppet.

The High-blood’s mouth quavers, wavers agape. Lips tremble, cheeks twitch. Gamzee almost loses grip on one of his clubs, then subsequently stumbles back, only barely able to catch himself from falling.

That thing.

So, so many images and scenes flashed through his broken mind at once. So, so many voices fill his ears, his head, his entire being, threatening to burst and break his skull wide open. The voices; they want out. They want things done, but they can’t do them. Not on their own. They’re just voices, trapped in a body.

But the body- the body can do things. The body can do a lot of things. Everything else is so insignificant now. All that there is is that puppet, the blasted, motherfucking puppet.

And it wants to be freed.

Slowly, very very slowly, the tortured soul lets his eyes drift upward to meet the gleam of triangular, super cool shades.

The battle, the various feuds going on between these specific three stop for a moment, only a moment. There is silence between them. The younger Strider looks between the two that were presently locked in a stare off, more confused than he’s ever been.

“You two gonna kiss? Because that’s fucking disg-”

A strange, raspier iteration of Gamzee’s voice cuts Dave’s quip off rather abruptly.

“I’m going to have to ask you a humongulous motherfucking favor, motherfucker,” He blurts out at the elder Strider, sweat visible on his brow. The agitated troll begins again after a slight pause, stressing every single word separately. It was as if the vocables themselves would begin killing each other if they were uttered too closely one after the other.

“Give me the Puppet.”

The demand was met with silence and a cold, beshaded stare.

“Give me the Puppet!” The alien screeches with a voice of imperial authority, eyes threatening to boil over in a brilliant shade of orange.

This time, the order is met with the steel sheen of a katana.

The clown drops the club in his left hand as lightning begins to snake its virulent way across his form. Planting his free hand on Dave’s face and shoving it out of the way, the murder-clown practically leaps at the tall, pale brother. All the while, a primal, inhuman war cry resonated through the ashen field like a siren warning a military camp of an impending incursion.

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