==> John: Enter Dirk's workshop

Dirk is currently wearing a mask and soldering some electronics. The music is so loud that it can be heard faintly through his headphones. Dirk’s computer screen displays... wait... is that Rainbow Dash on his desktop ? Nevertheless, John enters with a cup of coffee, having decided to chat with Dirk since Dave is busy with Roxy.

John: hey, dirk...?
John: daves with rox, and... i thought… maybe i could speak to you for a bit
John: if that's ooooooookay with you, i think ?

Dirk doesn’t respond immediately, fully absorbed in his work. John glances around the workshop, taking in the various oddities and “very curious” posters.

==> John: Try to get Dirk's attention

John: ...
John: so, um... are you always here by your self?
John: .
John: ..
John: ...
John: it’s... quite the workshop.

Dirk remains silent, seemingly uninterested in engaging. John shifts uncomfortably.

John: not that im judging or anything!
John: uhm... i think... its cool
John: to have mecha hobbies with a soft plushies side like, advanced computer stuff but involving robots?
John: like its a hard ware whos actually a bit soft :B

Dirk finally reacts, lifting his head slightly but still not turning around.

You said something stupid John! Quickly act cool!

==> John: Act cool

Dirk: ...
John: ...
John: oh. i... i didnt think I was bothering you... um... sor—
Dirk: No, you weren’t.
Dirk: I was in *the* zone.

==> Dirk: put away your headphones

Dirk spins his chair around to face John.

John: so... yeah...
John: as i was sayin...
John: um, “cool” place, you got there...
John: dude :B
Dirk: The ambient temperature in here is nowhere as “cool”.
Dirk: Being the heir of air conditioning has it perks apparently.
John: hahaha
John: i... guess?
John: oh gosh.
John: i actually never thought of it like that
Dirk: Goodness fucking gracious.
Dirk: You're dense.
Dirk: It's always nice to see English's ecto-progeniture though.
John: so is seeing dav-
John: ... i mean
John: you.
Dirk: Yeah, don't worry about it.

Dirk returns to his work, motioning for John to sit on the edge of the desk.

==> John: Ask the tough questions

John: so...
John: wat... are we making?
Dirk: Good question.
John: wait... hold on a sec.
John: you mean to tell me... you *don’t* know what you’re doing?
Dirk: Frankly, who does?
Dirk: It’s just that “doing” in this context is as abstract as the concept of entropy.
Dirk: Whether it aligns with the grand scheme of functionality is an entirely different matter.
Dirk: If it’s what should be done, I know it isn’t.
John: i... i think you’ve lost me...
John: no wonder rose takes after you!
Dirk: That’s probably the only cogent observation you’ve made thus far.

John rolls his eyes.

John: i have a feeling that wasnt very nice
John: and uncalled for!!!!

A brief silence follows as John contemplates Dirk’s words. Probably trying to decipher what the fuck “cogent” means.

==> Dirk: Apologize

Fuck no.

John: ... that was very mean
Dirk: A little, probably.
John: thats not reassuring
Dirk: I know.

Another pause ensues, filled with the quiet hum of Dirk’s workshop.

==> John: Ask the REAL tough questions

John: dirk...
John: i have a weird question for you
Dirk: Alright shoot.
John: i just... agh...
John: its just something thats been on my mind
John: and... i can’t get it off...

Dirk stops working and turns fully to John, giving him his full attention.

John: do you ever think about what it means to be you? like REALLY know and be yourself?
Dirk: If this were a philosophy class, I’d probably send you to detention for not preparing your course material because that’s literally Philosophy 101 for dummies.
Dirk: But yeah, on a personal scale, you could say this perpetual quest for self-knowledge is a mainstay of my waking hours.
Dirk: It’s a delightfully archaic concept, really.
John: uh... delightful?
John: is this... one of your ironic statements?
John: Or-
Dirk: It’s like asking if Sisyphus ever figured out whether he just has a rock-pushing kink or if there’s something more profound going on with his pathetic, eternal, hobby.
Dirk: In other words, let me ask you a question.
Dirk: Do you see yourself as the main character, John?
John: oh geez!
John: im not sure myself
John: haha, but... maybe
John: i know i should be... even when i don’t feel like it…

==> Dirk: Break the fourth wall

Not yet. Too soon.

Dirk: So you think there’s a plot to what we do?
John: hahahaha well naturally
John: but the plot dont really define the characters!
John: wait a sec
John: we're going off topic!
John: i guess im trying to say is if the stuff i like, comic and movies, like some sort of dnd sheet, really define who i am?
John: or is it more about something i do?
Dirk: Well, another age-old classic. You should thank your Crocker nanny for the brains.
John: i-
Dirk: The new-age Orwellian propaganda, pop culture if you prefer, might be merely glittering distractions to mask the emptiness of our existential void.
Dirk: Maybe we’re all just entertaining our soulless lives.

John: You do sound awfully pessimistic.

I know.
Plus, John doesn't know how to spell "pesimestic".

Dirk: I like to think of myself as realistic.

But we both know it's not true.

Dirk: To answer your first question, assuming my alleged identity even exists.
Dirk: It’s a pitiful collage of fleeting obsessions, duct-taped together with weak, Flex Tape® knock-off, ready to break under Paradox Space’s whims.

==> John: Get this loser back on track

John: ... oh
John: which makes me like a movie actor then?
John: playing a character I’m not?

More like a marionette in the grand theater of existence, dancing on the strings of *my* own delusions.

Dirk: Let's make it simple.
Dirk: Suppose you’re the MC in a Greek tragedy—Οἰδίπους Τύραννος.
John: huh?
Dirk: Oedipus Tyrannus.
Dirk: Except instead of an Oracle telling you what you're having for breakfast tomorrow, or whenever you're going to shaboink your mother, you’ve got a rabid fanbase and an Instagram account deciding your life 24/7.
Dirk: It’s like everyone’s constantly trying to figure out if their life is a half-assed scripted reality TV show or just a fucking elaborate high-effort shitpost.
John: wow...
John: thats kinda heavy
John: by that i mean *realllllllly* heavy.

==> John: Say something smart too

John: thinking about it...
John: Bruce had to face his fears of bats by becoming a bat.
John: do you think we have to do that too?
Dirk: Becoming bats?
John: NO!
John: becoming our fears!!!!!
Dirk: I know.
Dirk: Well, that sounds smart until your biggest fear is the fucking Kool-Aid Man.
Dirk: Because there’s no way you could chug as much liquid as that monstrosity.
Dirk: The appropriate wording would be “overcoming” .

But heroes tend to do that—face their fears. The whole heroic ordeal, confrontation with one’s own shadows. We’re heroes, John, remember? We didn’t choose this, yet time and space doom us if we “choose” not to. We never had the choice to fight; it was our only option.

Dirk: It’s the psychological equivalent of staring into the abyss and wondering if the abyss is taking notes… and the abyss damn well does.
Dirk: Those deeply repressed fears and insecurities—much like a high-definition mirror revealing not just your face but every tiny flaw in grotesque detail.
Dirk: Here’s where I mislead you, John—we’re not heroes. We’re the perpetrators of our doom, the monster we fear, the thing that keeps us awake. Our conscience never rests.
John: wait...
John: thats a lot to take in
John: doesnt that mean...
John: your saying we are evil!?

Pretty much. (sic)

Dirk: No, we are not. We are the “lucky” pawns who need to play to avoid complete annihilation.
Dirk: Nothing in our nature makes us special.
Dirk: We’re no more good than bad; we simply have the tools to choose who we want to become.
Dirk: That doesn’t mean our choices make us great people—just pawns well-armed to face any outcome.
Dirk: We’re just made to believe we’re better than any who fail to understand our trials.

==> John: bring this crazy guy back on track

John: i dont want to hurt people.
John: I want to be good.

I do too.

Dirk: We all do.

Dirk returns to work.

==> Dirk: Sort out your shit off screen