You’d heard there was another Strider or two in this city, and you’d been trying your damndest to avoid them both. Especially Dirk. Davesprite you can deal with; he’s you, after all, and even though you hate you, you also have an instinctual need to help you. Dirk is just...
( well, he’s just... )
And yet, your plan of silence and anonymity has been ruined in one fell swoop. You rounded the corner and literally smacked face-first into the dude, and now you’re staring down a mini version of your bro, and it’s unsettling. And weird. And a little scary.
( but he’s not your bro. )
That’s all the reassurance you need to force yourself to clear your throat and actually string two fucking words together in a sentence.
❝sorry man. didnt mean to bodyslam you like this is goddamn pokemon stadium and im lieutenant surges raichu.❞ You pause, recalling he’s from the future, then sheepishly add, ❝its a...video game thing.❞