DIRK: [ARISE]

Of all the places to wake up, 'dumpster' had not actually been in Dirk's top thirty list. Of course, once he realized that's where he was he considered that had been an error in judgement on his part. It was where he belonged and thus should have been number one on his list.

"HAL?" he said, his voice a raw and rough croaking to his own ears, but his sunglasses skewed on his face showed nothing but the sky above, a bright night lit by a moon and too much light pollution from the city around him for any stars. He brought an aching arm up to right his sunglasses and give them a tap, the the bare bones of his Heads Up Display on them became visible, flickering in and out of focus. "HAL?" he asked again, but there was no answer. It said he was offline with no signal available.


The past - however long it was came back to him in flits and flashes, what lead them here. Him here, anyway. Finding our that what his friends went through was a beta run for the whole thing, that it had already failed once and they were an attempt to restart under more favorable circumstances. That their game was a null game too in different ways but unfortunately just enough overlap that the plan to make a working game between the two of them wasn't going to work. What was there left to try, a third attempt where they would likely once more end up with more problems and no solutions?

Dirk had been careful who he proposed the plan to and how he said it. Jake was the driven type, charismatic - it didn't matter he couldn't figure out how to pull it off himself, if he suggested it people would be more likely to listen, to try.

"Do you think there's a way to get out of the game entirely?" Dirk had asked Jake in what passed for late one night on a meteor where they'd taken refuge, time and day having no meaning.

The question had been posed seemingly carelessly, but it had stuck in Jake's mind like Dirk knew it would. Soon enough they were all working together on 'Jake's' new plan to try and find a universe beyond the games entirely.

There was no guarantee it would work. No guarantee they'd go to the same place, or even... anywhere.

But what other option did they have?


And now Dirk was here, in a dumpster.

It smelled terrible in a weirdly unfamiliar way to him. It was the kind of terrible that came from cramped living conditions of too many people in one place, and he had literally never experienced that before. When he managed to push himself up and crawl out of it (and get all the ... leavings... off of himself) just looking to the other end of the alleyway where cars went back and forth gave him pause as he thought that every single one of those had at least one person in it. Watching for just a couple minutes, more people walked by without a glance in his direction than he'd ever seen in one place in his whole life.

Wherever they'd landed, it wasn't his home. Not when he knew it.

Distracted by that utter culture shock, he managed to miss the sound of someone coming the other direction until they spoke.

"Hand over your money - anything you have on you," the gravely voice ordered, and Dirk turned slowly to see the barrel of a gun staring him down, and attached to it a man that could either be twice his age or a little younger with a hard life behind him. Dirk was guessing the second was more likely.

"Are you fucking deaf? Hand. Over. Your. Cash. Fucker!" the man repeated when Dirk just continued to stare at him.

Oh, this? He'd seen this in plenty of movies. He knew how to handle this.

"Yeah, no," Dirk said, with a careless flick of his wrist his clothing glitched and blurred into a different but similar set, his pointed sunglasses doing the same to be a fully face covering gas mask. The people who fought crime always wore masks in those stories, right? From the same place his new clothing came from he drew his katana.

He was used to enemies that put up a fight to someone on his level, and maybe would be over-estimating this guy's abilities.