Much in the same way as his very first arrival to the dream world, Tech Boy sits perched atop a crumbling stone wall. He has one leg pulled under him, leaving the other to dangle as he fixes his eyes on the apocalyptic scene in front of them: a massive wall of black smoke, crackling with purple lightning. The Edge. The End, so it seems. The imposing sight of it sends a cold chill through the young god. There's a not insignificant amount of panic starting to clench something deep in his chest. Outwardly, he looks calm, not even reaching for his vape to fidget.
Fuck. Now what? F U C K.
"Fuck," he reiterates aloud.
With his free foot, he taps K. They're here at the end of the world. Together. Side by side. That's all he ever wanted, really. Well. Aside from not dying at the end. Alive would have been preferable. Alive would be a long life together. Sharing in each other's happiness and pain. Making new memories. Exploring so many new experiences. Maybe there's still a way? Tech Boy can feel a strange pull coming from that violent cloud. Something promising, instead of the usual sense of dread that have emanated from most other bizarre events in this place.
Home, it promises. Is that true? Really? Whose home? And... would he even still be alive if he returns? Would it be worth it if he has to return alone?
"How should we dream of this place without us?— The sun mere fire, the leaves untroubled about us, A stone look on the stone's face?
Speak of the world's own change. Though we cannot conceive Of an undreamt thing, we know to our cost How the dreamt cloud crumbles, the vines are blackened by frost, How the view alters. We could believe,
If you told us so, that the white-tailed deer will slip Into perfect shade, grown perfectly shy...."
Tech Boy trails off. He's not looking at K at the moment, eyes still fixed on the beckoning yet foreboding smoke, but his hand seeks out K's all the same. Caught somewhere between overthinking and drawing a complete blank, Tech Boy's expression melts slowly into a frown. His eyes flash once in a way that isn't a reflection of the lightning--then close.
This is a pretty big deal. Maybe even the biggest they'll face. More than blackouts and rivers of blood. More than memory flowers and underwater cities. Tech Boy needs K's reaction to gauge his own and react appropriately. He gives K's hand a squeeze. What now? it seems to ask.
[Deerington] FINAL EVENT: The Door Opens and the Lighthouses Return
Much in the same way as his very first arrival to the dream world, Tech Boy sits perched atop a crumbling stone wall. He has one leg pulled under him, leaving the other to dangle as he fixes his eyes on the apocalyptic scene in front of them: a massive wall of black smoke, crackling with purple lightning. The Edge. The End, so it seems. The imposing sight of it sends a cold chill through the young god. There's a not insignificant amount of panic starting to clench something deep in his chest. Outwardly, he looks calm, not even reaching for his vape to fidget.
Fuck. Now what? F U C K.
"Fuck," he reiterates aloud.
With his free foot, he taps K. They're here at the end of the world. Together. Side by side. That's all he ever wanted, really. Well. Aside from not dying at the end. Alive would have been preferable. Alive would be a long life together. Sharing in each other's happiness and pain. Making new memories. Exploring so many new experiences. Maybe there's still a way? Tech Boy can feel a strange pull coming from that violent cloud. Something promising, instead of the usual sense of dread that have emanated from most other bizarre events in this place.
Home, it promises. Is that true? Really? Whose home? And... would he even still be alive if he returns? Would it be worth it if he has to return alone?
"How should we dream of this place without us?—
The sun mere fire, the leaves untroubled about us,
A stone look on the stone's face?
Speak of the world's own change. Though we cannot conceive
Of an undreamt thing, we know to our cost
How the dreamt cloud crumbles, the vines are blackened by frost,
How the view alters. We could believe,
If you told us so, that the white-tailed deer will slip
Into perfect shade, grown perfectly shy...."
Tech Boy trails off. He's not looking at K at the moment, eyes still fixed on the beckoning yet foreboding smoke, but his hand seeks out K's all the same. Caught somewhere between overthinking and drawing a complete blank, Tech Boy's expression melts slowly into a frown. His eyes flash once in a way that isn't a reflection of the lightning--then close.
This is a pretty big deal. Maybe even the biggest they'll face. More than blackouts and rivers of blood. More than memory flowers and underwater cities. Tech Boy needs K's reaction to gauge his own and react appropriately. He gives K's hand a squeeze. What now? it seems to ask.