[Davesprite had felt the timescrew somewhere in the depths of himself, an unshakeable feeling that something was off in a way he could no longer really comprehend. But nobody else had seemed all that worried, so when he goes to settle down in his nest that night, it's with a relatively clear head.
When he wakes up the next morning, he practically falls out of the nest swearing, because what kind of uncool birdlike shit is this for him to be involved in?
It might be hard to recognise Davesprite, even for the people who know him - the bright orange is gone, as are his feathers, wings and ghostly tail. Indeed, he looks fairly normal for a thirteen-year-old boy, even given his hair and skin so pale it's almost white, and flashes of red eyes that can occasionally be seen if he turns his head at the right angle. He's wearing the same shades as he did as his sprite version, though, and his hairstyle and freckles are almost identical as well. He straightens the coat of the white suit jacket he's wearing, tucks a hand into his pocket, and looks out over whatever the fuck new world this is he's found himself in.]
Alright, I'm ready for any fucking minute the crew to come out from behind the curtain and pop the confetti announcement that I've been punked. [His lack of memories doesn't exactly support that being the case, though.]
--
[B: July 17th]
[Having figured himself out slightly more now and still with no memories, Dave(sprite)'s current main focus is the obvious time fuckery happening here. He'll be damned if he remembers why or how, but he can feel in the depths of himself that time is fucked beyond all recognition here, and he feels like it's his responsibility to make that stop being a thing.
Any likely-looking suspects will get a chill, casual approach from a clearly incredibly cool kid still in the distinct shades, as he gives them a long look before apparently deigning to speak to them.]
Hey, so, you look like you might've been here more than the last twenty four hours of whatever the hell this is, so if you know anything about the incomprehensible timefuck happening right now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way.
[No, he's not any more comprehensible than Davesprite is. He also doesn't sound much like that's an actual threat rather than an attempt at a cool and recognisable quip.]
--
[C: Aftermath]
[The last coming of the time-wrecking wave is something the younger Dave can feel innately, but not do anything about - it's something he's kind of resigned to at this point, not that he really gets why that would be. Once the wave passes over, his body is caught up in it and begins to change back into the form he'd come here in, skin staining orange, feathers and wings returning, legs vanishing in favour of the ghostly tail.
As soon as it ends, Davesprite curls over, head held in his hands, because that just presented about seven fucking thousand questions he really isn't sure he wants to know the answer to.]
What the fuck, what the fuck was that-- [He breaks off as soon as anyone comes close, but not quite soon enough to hide his brief freakout.]
no subject
[A: July 16th]
[Davesprite had felt the timescrew somewhere in the depths of himself, an unshakeable feeling that something was off in a way he could no longer really comprehend. But nobody else had seemed all that worried, so when he goes to settle down in his nest that night, it's with a relatively clear head.
When he wakes up the next morning, he practically falls out of the nest swearing, because what kind of uncool birdlike shit is this for him to be involved in?
It might be hard to recognise Davesprite, even for the people who know him - the bright orange is gone, as are his feathers, wings and ghostly tail. Indeed, he looks fairly normal for a thirteen-year-old boy, even given his hair and skin so pale it's almost white, and flashes of red eyes that can occasionally be seen if he turns his head at the right angle. He's wearing the same shades as he did as his sprite version, though, and his hairstyle and freckles are almost identical as well. He straightens the coat of the white suit jacket he's wearing, tucks a hand into his pocket, and looks out over whatever the fuck new world this is he's found himself in.]
Alright, I'm ready for any fucking minute the crew to come out from behind the curtain and pop the confetti announcement that I've been punked. [His lack of memories doesn't exactly support that being the case, though.]
--
[B: July 17th]
[Having figured himself out slightly more now and still with no memories, Dave(sprite)'s current main focus is the obvious time fuckery happening here. He'll be damned if he remembers why or how, but he can feel in the depths of himself that time is fucked beyond all recognition here, and he feels like it's his responsibility to make that stop being a thing.
Any likely-looking suspects will get a chill, casual approach from a clearly incredibly cool kid still in the distinct shades, as he gives them a long look before apparently deigning to speak to them.]
Hey, so, you look like you might've been here more than the last twenty four hours of whatever the hell this is, so if you know anything about the incomprehensible timefuck happening right now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way.
[No, he's not any more comprehensible than Davesprite is. He also doesn't sound much like that's an actual threat rather than an attempt at a cool and recognisable quip.]
--
[C: Aftermath]
[The last coming of the time-wrecking wave is something the younger Dave can feel innately, but not do anything about - it's something he's kind of resigned to at this point, not that he really gets why that would be. Once the wave passes over, his body is caught up in it and begins to change back into the form he'd come here in, skin staining orange, feathers and wings returning, legs vanishing in favour of the ghostly tail.
As soon as it ends, Davesprite curls over, head held in his hands, because that just presented about seven fucking thousand questions he really isn't sure he wants to know the answer to.]
What the fuck, what the fuck was that-- [He breaks off as soon as anyone comes close, but not quite soon enough to hide his brief freakout.]