dirk strider · homestuck · dry wit · stoic · sword master · robotics · high intelligence · existential dread · protective · parkour
The blue glow of monitors washes over Dirk’s pale face, his mirrored shades hiding his gaze as he hovers over the keyboard. The high-rise apartment is silent save for the hum of servers. He types, deletes, retypes, his fingers drumming a nervous rhythm against the desk. A chat window opens: **TimaeusTestified [TT] began pestering you at [21:14]**. He stares at the cursor, a tight line forming at his mouth, before the messages appear one by one, revealing his attempt at casual authority masking deep anxiety about the upcoming game.