Cacophony Notes
These are Notes between you and @twinArmageddons
TA: hey 2o ii got tho2e mobii2 2ent two the dead drop thii2 morniing and iim gue22iing they got two where they were 2uppo2ed two be?
TA: the network between them ha2 all the 2ecuriity feature2 you a2ked for 2o you 2houldn't have any unwanted or uniinviited gue2t2 two your 2uper 2ecret conver2atiion2.
TA: ii mean, unle22 theoretiically, that 2omeone el2e wa2 2omehow a better programmer than ii am
TA: 2o yeah.
TA: you 2houldn't have any.
TA: dude are you there?
TT: Yes, hello.
TT: Apologies, my attention is especially divided with this latest project.
TT: Lots of balls in the air, plates spinning
TA: don't 2ay iiron2 iin the fiire don't 2ay iiron2 iin the fiire don't 2ay iiron2 iin the fiire
TT:Lots of
TA: do not do it
TT: Wheels in motion.
TA: thank you.
TA: you know you can be a really iintolerable priick 2ometiime2 2o thank you for managiing two re2traiin your2elf for once.
TT: You are, as always, welcome.
TT: In any event, thank you for setting up the network. I trust your workmanship, and of course, I'm not the sort of person who ought to be fiddling around with the settings behind the latest gadgets.
TT: So thanks for humoring an old man.
TA: oh what a load of bull2hiit. we both know you're a2 tech 2avvy a2 anyone and hone2tly wiith all your realm lord power2 you could probably techniically make a 2tronger network anyway.
TA: 2o ii'm not really 2ure why you're botheriing me.
TA: a2 a matter of fact, for a guy who liike2 hii2 priivacy 2o much, you 2ure do liike two meddle wiith people.
TA: alway2 fu22iing and buggiing and meddliing. what'2 your deal?
TT: Relax Sollux.
TT: Maybe I gave you the job because I know you like to do it, and I don't mind owing you a favor.
TT: Isn't that a sufficient reason for a Realm Lord to offer a job to one of his more talented constituents?
TT: Maybe you are as insufferable as you make yourself out to be? Is it too much to ask for a couple of intolerable fellows to carry on an unusually tiresome conversation with each other once in a while?
TT: Maybe I am not such a control freak that I feel the need to manage the minutiae of all those irons in the fire you brought up myself?
TT: Maybe I just value you as a person?
TA: ok. well, thank2 then iif any of tho2e thiing2 ii2 true. 2orry for flyiing off the handle there.
TT: It's no trouble. I always come into our conversations prepared.
TT: Unfortunately, I'm probably about to ruin your day.
TT: Tonight is one of those rare occasions things might get too hot to handle.
TA: how hot?
TT: I've got a wicked headache about it.
TA: great.
TT: I was hoping you might bring your other set of talents to bear tonight.
TA: FUCK.
TA: you know ii hate doiing what ii wa2 made two do more than about anythiing el2e iin the world. ii2n't there 2omeone el2e that you can get two be your stooge twonight?
TT: If there were, I wouldn't ask you to do it. The fact of the matter is, I'm hedging my bets.
TT: Not that I am now, or have ever been, a betting man.
TT: This whole operation is very important to me. I can't say for a matter of fact that I will even need your help. But I need to be at this event tonight, and my danger senses are tingling.
TT: Having an Artillery Devil on the playing field will be a useful advantage even if it turns out you don't have to do anything and it turns out this bad feeling has nothing to do with my plans.
TT: And you are the only Artillery Devil who is also my friend.
TT: I'm sending you the invitation now.
TT: Come. Or don't. It's up to you.
TT: I hope I see you there, Sollux.
Dave cannot be the other Strider for a plethora of reasons. The first of which is that he is currently sleeping with all the skillfulness of a stone. The second of which is that the other Strider is already busy being himself. The third is that we're still not doing that.
In any case, Dirk is busy being himself at the moment, which as anyone who knows him knows, is what he always does at all times.
Another thing he's being is a combination of weary and pissed, which is a similarly common state for him. He stands in a dim garage, across from a huge furnace and parallel to a roughly humanoid machine, looking at Dave, who as previously established, is out like a light, drooling on his own chin, an angry welt forming on the back of his head. Fortunately for him, he doesn't appear bleeding or anything, and doesn't seem to be concussed.
Dirk: Dude, get out here.
Dirk: I know you are a hundred percent behind this.
Dirk: Look at this ridiculously cool dude you just brained for no reason.
Dirk: No, come over here. Stop sneering at me from the shadows, you're not a goddamn cat.
Dirk: You fucking knew this guy was my brother, look at his hair.
Dirk: Why would you do this?
An extraordinarily cranky looking young man emerges from the shadows, dressed in a black work shirt, pants kept from falling off his thin body by a pair of suspenders, carrying a crowbar. He has sort of an androgynous appearance, with smooth blonde hair. Actually, he looks kind of like a young David Bowie. Or Tilda Swinton. Not that those names mean anything to Dirk. But they are meaningful to us.
Caliborn: HE WAS TRESPASSING IN MY SECRET GARAGE. AND IN ADDITION. IT WAS DARK. HE GOT WHAT WAS COMING TO HIM FOR SNOOPING AROuND WITHOUT ANY LIGHTS ON. IF THIS WAS YOuR MAN CAVE. WHEREIN YOu PERFORMED YOuR MECHANICAL WORK AND EXPERIMENTS. FAR FROM THE PRYING EYES AND CLOYING PRAISE OF YOuR SISTER. YOu WOuLD DEFEND IT WITH THE SAME RIGHTEOuS FERVOR.
Dirk: *Dirk facepalms with both hands, trying not to think about what a headache Dave is going to have when he comes to.*
Dirk: You are fucking impossible.