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House of Cards

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This precariously balanced house of cards situation only managed to prove entertaining for a couple weeks at best. Then Dave got bored.

The Veil. It sucked harder than an industrial strength vacuum in the hands of an obsessive, determined-ass housewife (or house husband, we aren’t being stereotypical here) who knew what they fuck they were doing with cleaning supplies. The kids had finagled their way there through one of Feferi and Jade’s convoluted plans involving dream bubbles and weird Harley science shit and everyone else had kind of gone along for the very bumpy ride. Honestly, Dave hadn’t been paying too much attention to the plan itself and was instead brushing up on his investment pyramid schemes. Whatever.

The introductions couldn’t have been more cliche. The two derps flung themselves at just about everyone for a series of not-so-bone-crushing or even ironic hugs while Dave and Rose had hung back in their characteristic cavalier and aloof fashion. One could only expect so much. Eventually, everyone had been forced (read: “Daveee. Come on, say hi!”) to take part in the meet and greet. Rose had been elegantly escorted by the only troll who really seemed to have any sort of fashion sense besides the idea that black always matched with black, forgetting the guy in the corner who was either a hipster douchebag or had the best grasp on irony in the history of the universe. As Dave watched his sister follow Maryam with an air of composed superiority, he let his shoulders fall into the best slouch and allowed himself to be subjected (finally) to Pyrope’s relentless tongue-bath greetings and Tavros’s excited (and obviously well-practiced) rap introductions.

The trolls were largely what Dave had been expecting. He didn’t have too endure much contact with most of them, as it turned out. Terezi was almost constantly by his side, though that was as easily expected as it was easily tolerated, especially after a few ground rules about how uncool the violation of personal space with bodily secretions like spit was. Eridan, the hipster had proven disappointing with his low level grasp on irony (despite what he might have believed) and luckily he spent most of his time sulking around by himself so Dave didn’t have to even touch that one with a hundred foot pole. Gamzee and Tavros were decently chill, but also spent most of their time together. Sollux was decent when Dave found him in an agreeable mood, but that was only ever so often. The rest he only had passing contact with, as they kept to themselves and/or were busy doing “more important” things, which suited Dave just perfectly.

Everyone had kind of set up daily routines faster than you could accuse Eridan of over-accessorizing. There was no real sense of night and day in the Veil, but before they had arrived, Vantas (in his typical control freak fashion) had set up some sort of schedule that dictated when to wake up, eat, do unimportant shit, pass out, and start all over again the next day. At least it avoided any sort of mind-numbing monotony, right? Egbert and Vantas settled in as co-palhoncos, one more comfortable with the arrangement than the other, and more monotony was to be found. To try to combat the monotony of the veil, the terrible scheduling and the brain eating boredom, Egbert introduced game time, which was both uncool and excruciatingly boring. However, through some twist of ironic fate, Dave found himself attending all of the sessions.

The “please stop gauging your eyes out with a rusty spoon, now there’s super fun games to play!” game sessions started out rather terribly. The concepts of all of the troll games were pretty much lost on the humans, probably having to do with the fact that the names were only a few words short of the rules and no one really felt like explaining them in any great (or necessary) detail. The more intricate human games like “Monopoly” (WHY ON ALTERNAIA DOES THIS GAME TAKE SO FUCKING LONG TO PLAY. OH, WAIT, IT’S NOT LIKE I WAS DOING ANYTHING WITH MY LIFE ANYWAY. AND EGBERT, DON’T THINK I CAN’T SEE YOU POCKETING THOSE FIFTIES, YOU CHEATING NOOKSUCKER. THAT DOES NOT RAISE YOUR PRANKSTER'S GAMBIT.) or “Life” (:33 there aren't any spots in the cars fur meowrails or the rest of the quadrants, but there are spots fur grubs? this pawl s33ms so silly) were more or less lost on the trolls. Any suggestions of LARPing were pushed aside due to the potential dangerous consequences of the activity (uH, gUYS, i’M NOT TOTALLY SURE THAT I WOULD REALLY ENJOY THAT, iF THAT IS A THING THAT WE WOULD MAYBE BE CONSIDERING DOING) as well taking into consideration how horrendously uncool it was (no). Eventually they settled on simple card games. At least the clean up from Karkat’s rage-fits wasn’t too bad and the worst damage Equius could do was crumple the cards. They even managed to keep Gamzee’s attention for long enough to get through a few rounds. A couple weeks into the routine of settling down for cards after dinner (or what never should have counted for food, ever), Dave glanced over at everyone who seemed to be pondering their cards with way too much brain-power necessary for Go Fish. His eyes narrowed behind his shades and he pulled out his phone, scrolling to a random contact before messaging them, determined to cure his boredom. With one veiled look to his apparent intended victim, he began,

you know what would be more fun than this
sitting at the top of a rusty ass ferris wheel with a six inch spike inches from my nads
waiting for a sexy but also partially decaying zombie nurse to scale the sides and sink her teeth into my delicious human meat popsicle
because dang bro that dental youre flashing is some seriously fucked up shit
got me all daydreaming in its glory

Dave hadn’t spent too much time bothering with Karkat in the slightestbefore. He only harassed the guy when it seemed apparent that the ball of rage was trying to do a frighteningly terrible job of hitting on Egbert and Harley, fulfilling his role as a good bro. Luckily, the troll had given up on both accounts, for now at least. Other than that, Dave hadn’t given him too much thought, other than the revelation that being anywhere within ten feet of the machine of leaking vitriol and spite was the fastest way to get a headache in the Veil. Despite low expectations, in all honesty, Dave had been expecting a bit more of a violent, entertaining reaction.

WHAT
WHAT THE HELL?
FUCK OFF.

The response would have been blueball inducing in it’s simplicity if it hadn’t been for the not-so-sutble way that Vantas’s cheeks turned the slightest hint of pink in rage and the way his knuckles turned white as he gripped his own portable mobile device in anger before he shoved it mercilessly into his pocket, not to pull it out again that night. It was also intriguing that he refused to make eye contact with Dave for the rest of the game, though honestly, Dave wasn’t sure if that was new or not, as he hadn’t been paying attention to the irate troll before.