[Oh thank god. There's a lapse of silence as John sort of gets used to that before there's a small huff of a laugh. His response comes not long after, voice half-asleep yet attentive.]
Worms don't have tentacles, numbnuts. [Idly, he realizes he hasn't heard Dave speak that much in person outside of today so this is also something to appreciate the novelty of.]
[ it sure is novel to speak to your best friend with your actual voice. wow! dave doesn't sound sleepy, though his voice is kind of on the quieter side. he's been known to mutter, although he's speaking clearly at the moment. ]
Tentacles are usually attached to something. What are worms attached to? Oh, right, nothing. Because they are not tentacles.
[This is qualify conversation right here. Also look!!! Everything Dave is saying with his voice and his mouth is very important to him right now? He's heard Davesprite for the last three years but. It's different anyway. He's equally charmed every time Rose speaks, really.]
They are unbound tentacles wigglin' through space.
[ THIS IS AN IMPORTANT CONVERSATION, FUCK YOU JOHN EGBERT. for all that he types over john all the goddamn time in text, he doesn't do that in conversation; he pauses and listens and responds in an easier and less frantic give and take. ]
They might. We'll know if it's a pattern after three times, maybe. So...we can check tomorrow night and the night after?
Weird. [The even monotonous drawl is easy for him to follow and he's relaxed even while listening to everything. Today has been a busy day talking to so many people. This is no exception and he finds the conversation easy even as he hums in agreement.]
We should look. Maybe we can see where they are coming from and get a better idea where other planets or islands are. I do not think the worms live in the sky, so they must come from somewhere else.
They could, but yeah. Either another island adrift in space, or maybe a meteorite field or somethin'? Or another planet. There are lots of options and like, no way to get off this place yet...until we start world hoppin', apparently, but we can talk about that tomorrow.
[ or whenever. ]
Oh, shit, that reminds me. Happy birthday, Egbert.
Mmhm...world hopping does not sound that bad if we're all traveling together this time. Maybe this time it won't take three years to get somewhere. You read Genette's letter? She made it sound like there were places we would be going. I think it ties into what Brie told you about the militia thing.
[But oh. He pauses again and he chuckles to himself shortly after.] ...thanks. Some birthday celebration, huh?
I also talked to Genette. [ but that's less important than the other half of things. ] If you weren't ill and I weren't assumin' cake is maybe out of bounds still I'd suggest a thing. But maybe when you're feelin' better the three of us can have a belated celebration. We can spend the day doin' whatever you want. We did miss out on two other birthdays, too.
[He wants to ask about Genette, but that can wait. Instead:]
I'd like that. A lot. I'll think of something for the three of us, it'll be great. You did not miss a lot for my last couple of birthdays. [Other than an epic shitfit, but.]
You got me a present when you guys were on the meteor? [Color him surprised, but.] Sure.
Incorrect. We totally missed a lot. As in we missed celebratin' them with you? And more specifically I composed you a gift while we were on the meteor, if you feel up to listening to my mental rendition of an instrumental track.
Well, when you put it that way. [Yeah. That would have made things better, wouldn't it? A real birthday party with his real friends. Part of him wonders if they'll ever get the chance to all celebrate together. Jade's birthday is next. Maybe she'll be here and they can be together.
But he's knocked out of his thoughts when he tunes in to what Dave says, perking up a little.]
You did what? Really? I mean yes, of course I want to hear it. Somehow I think even a mental rendition would get the point across since you are you. [And music and Dave make sense in the way that time and Dave make sense.]
[ it's telepathy. if it's just thoughts, if they can push images of themselves as they look down at mirrors at other people, then music shouldn't be impossible, should it? so dave starts out slow, testing, and then shoves a song across the mental gap.
when they were kids he mostly wrote fast things, incessant beats and technic skips and constant frenetic motion. he still does, sometimes. this is a little slower and it was written thinking about a million fireflies in the sky as he looked up. kind of quiet and kind of trying to call up some memory of his best friends when two of them were a million miles away for years. ]
[He doesn't put up much of a fight when Dave tells him to be quiet and instead he settles and lets his mind go blank to focus. It starts out as little clips at first, sounds he can't quite grasp until Dave fully concentrates and the music comes through.
It's refined, maybe. He remembers the four of them trading songs back and forth, three playing instruments and one making remixes that brought the sounds together. He's used to Dave's haphazard collection of sounds, but this is slow and relaxing and...
...instead of words, there's a ship. A yellow battleship zipping along at the speed of light, large and empty racing along the yellow yard. A driveway, a view of a planet of wind and shade and some smog. These images filter through even as he's listening and he's not really conscious of it.
Is it possible that the four of them can be together again? He hopes so. He's silent until the end, and there's a very, very brief flash of something. A cacophony of planets collided that quickly gets replaced with images of fireflies.]
...it's different than normal. [Which like. There's nothing wrong with it, and he actually sounds very pleased about it.] I like it. It's a really cool present.
[ there's piano, and there's violin, and there's bass notes. there's the flow of the turntables around and between them.
the suggestion is hesitant but it's not like he hadn't written it thinking of his friends, and of doing something they all loved together in person someday, instead of in pieces and parts over the internet, tracks sent back and forth and changed between them. ]
Yeah dude, definitely! [It's not as enthusiastic as a non-ill Egbert but he's doing his best. The idea is beyond exciting.] It would sound even better live. Do you think we will even find instruments in this universe though? Everything else I've seen has been hit and miss.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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no, it's ok. talking is a good distraction? it will help until i fall asleep again.
you never did explain why you were thinking about squid anyway.
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is reading all this giving you a headache y/n
also i was thinking about squid b/c space worms reminded me of them
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[Whether that's to "switch to voice" or "it's giving me a headache" goes unsaid.]
worms and squids are not even close to being the same, but i guess i can see the connection.
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They're both tentacle-y.
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Worms don't have tentacles, numbnuts. [Idly, he realizes he hasn't heard Dave speak that much in person outside of today so this is also something to appreciate the novelty of.]
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[ it sure is novel to speak to your best friend with your actual voice. wow! dave doesn't sound sleepy, though his voice is kind of on the quieter side. he's been known to mutter, although he's speaking clearly at the moment. ]
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[This is qualify conversation right here. Also look!!! Everything Dave is saying with his voice and his mouth is very important to him right now? He's heard Davesprite for the last three years but. It's different anyway. He's equally charmed every time Rose speaks, really.]
Think they'll come back?
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[ THIS IS AN IMPORTANT CONVERSATION, FUCK YOU JOHN EGBERT. for all that he types over john all the goddamn time in text, he doesn't do that in conversation; he pauses and listens and responds in an easier and less frantic give and take. ]
They might. We'll know if it's a pattern after three times, maybe. So...we can check tomorrow night and the night after?
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We should look. Maybe we can see where they are coming from and get a better idea where other planets or islands are. I do not think the worms live in the sky, so they must come from somewhere else.
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[ or whenever. ]
Oh, shit, that reminds me. Happy birthday, Egbert.
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[But oh. He pauses again and he chuckles to himself shortly after.] ...thanks. Some birthday celebration, huh?
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[ drifting through space, far away. ]
Do you want last year's present now?
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I'd like that. A lot. I'll think of something for the three of us, it'll be great. You did not miss a lot for my last couple of birthdays. [Other than an epic shitfit, but.]
You got me a present when you guys were on the meteor? [Color him surprised, but.] Sure.
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But he's knocked out of his thoughts when he tunes in to what Dave says, perking up a little.]
You did what? Really? I mean yes, of course I want to hear it. Somehow I think even a mental rendition would get the point across since you are you. [And music and Dave make sense in the way that time and Dave make sense.]
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[ it's telepathy. if it's just thoughts, if they can push images of themselves as they look down at mirrors at other people, then music shouldn't be impossible, should it? so dave starts out slow, testing, and then shoves a song across the mental gap.
when they were kids he mostly wrote fast things, incessant beats and technic skips and constant frenetic motion. he still does, sometimes. this is a little slower and it was written thinking about a million fireflies in the sky as he looked up. kind of quiet and kind of trying to call up some memory of his best friends when two of them were a million miles away for years. ]
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It's refined, maybe. He remembers the four of them trading songs back and forth, three playing instruments and one making remixes that brought the sounds together. He's used to Dave's haphazard collection of sounds, but this is slow and relaxing and...
...instead of words, there's a ship. A yellow battleship zipping along at the speed of light, large and empty racing along the yellow yard. A driveway, a view of a planet of wind and shade and some smog. These images filter through even as he's listening and he's not really conscious of it.
Is it possible that the four of them can be together again? He hopes so. He's silent until the end, and there's a very, very brief flash of something. A cacophony of planets collided that quickly gets replaced with images of fireflies.]
...it's different than normal. [Which like. There's nothing wrong with it, and he actually sounds very pleased about it.] I like it. It's a really cool present.
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[ there's piano, and there's violin, and there's bass notes. there's the flow of the turntables around and between them.
the suggestion is hesitant but it's not like he hadn't written it thinking of his friends, and of doing something they all loved together in person someday, instead of in pieces and parts over the internet, tracks sent back and forth and changed between them. ]
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