Rose looked at her ectobiobrother in the eye. His face was impassive, but he tried a little too hard, sometimes. And it was in those times that she was able to read him like a book— a children’s book, complete with little pictures and rhymes and all other things juvenile and un-ironic. Her eyes hinted at a smile as he continued to rant and rave about this troll who had, apparently, taken to ignoring him (or, if not ignoring, then patronizing; Dave wasn’t giving her too much to go on about the specifics of their conversations).
“Who the fuck wears those kind of glasses anyways? Not even ironically. He legitimately wears those glasses wherever he goes. It’s always night in trolland, right, like that‘s a thing to them. Oh, we live on a pitch black planet, you know what sounds like an awesome idea? SUNGLASSES. These moon beams are giving me a sun burn, because it’s so dark and horrible here than we just can’t handle the heat and moonbeams, oh shit. Are they even fucking sunglasses? Are they moonglasses? Why the hell trolls have sunglasses? This almost makes as much sense as the fact that they have Faygo.”
His face was impassive, eyebrows twitching when he thought he had said something particularly amusing or witty, obviously pleased with his ability to make nonsense sound eloquent. Rose rested her chin in her hand, leaning in as though what he was saying as captivating. In reality, she was just scrutinizing him behind his ironically over-sized eyewear. Maybe he was worried that this troll — Equius, was it? She hadn’t spoken to him, she didn’t think — was stealing his thunder. He generally made it a habit to not-care when… well, just to not care. Stealing his thunder from what? It’s not like they ran in the same social circles— well, not really, anyways.
Whatever his problem was, she could tell that he was pissed because he wasn’t being… what would you say he was? Sassy? Why not. He wasn’t being as sassy as he usually was.
Sass. The smile that was haunting her face appeared, her eyes still tracing her brother’s face with a not-so-subtle amusment.
When Dave and Equius finally met, it was within a clusterfuck of trolls and humans and metal walls, everyone chatting —EXCITED—EDLY or nervou2ly or OBNOXIOUSLY, weirdly raspy troll voices intertwining with smooth human timbre. Dave noticed the Hulk standing in the back, talking in hushed tones to a… wait, a furry? Trolls have those? The fuck did she have a tail for. There were so many stupid aspects of humans on these aliens; seriously they were pretty much just gray humans with a retarded vocabulary at this poi—
And then Dave noticed the Hulk glaring at him. The other sounds in the room seemed muted as Equius’s mouth opened partially to sneer at him, pointed, broken teeth poking out from behind parted black lips. They just stared at each other for a moment. The aggression that seemed to be exuding from the other troll was, for some reason, surprising to Dave; he had always assumed that Equius didn’t care, that he wasn’t annoyed or thought he was just so much better than “humans.”
The fact that Equius seemed so thoroughly pissed off was… Pretty fucking awesome. Dave looked Equius right in the eye and smirked— Equius growled and Dave’s face returned to it’s normal impassivity, turning his back to the large troll and beginning to formulate some new ideas to piss him off. A small reward for all of the internal turmoil.
Rose hadn’t seen Dave in a long while — or, at least not long enough to strike up a conversation as to what the hell he’d been doing for the past weeks.
Dave’s time was almost constantly spent in Equius’ presence; he was either taunting him or fighting him, or, as the case became more and more often nowadays, would just disappear with him for house on end, only to show up later like he hadn’t disappeared into oblivion for a small moment.
Rose had caught him, apparently, coming back from one such event, stopping him in the hallway and scrutinizing his face. He was breathing a little deeper than he usually was, like he had just begun calming down from a long run; there was a flush to his cheeks (not much of one, but it was there); his arms were folded at an awkward angle. Like he was hiding something.
She, in an uncharacteristic act of ultimate bromanship, put her knuckles out in front of Dave’s chest.
He was never one to back down from an ironic fist bump.
She could see the almost pained look on his face as he uncrossed his arms and tapped her fist, saying nothing as she looked at the almost impossibly dark purple welt that was situated on his forearm. He crossed his arms a moment later, closing himself off to her analysis and continuing off down the hallway. Her eyes followed him, resting on the small bruises on his neck. She sighed and continued walking, ever amused at Dave’s secrecy; it was painfully obvious to everyone what was going on. She rolled her eyes and wondered how Equius hadn’t yet torn him limb from limb.
Hate is such a curious thing.