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Non-Pokémon Windskull's Whumptober 2025 [Multifandom]

Table of Contents New

windskull

Bidoof Fan
Staff
Partners
  1. sneasel-nip
  2. bidoof
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  7. purugly
  8. mawile
  9. manectric
  10. zoroark-hisui
Hello all! After some debate, I decided to Crosspost my whumptober fics for this year here, since whump is quite popular on TR LMAO. This post will serve as a table of Contents with the following information: Title - Prompt | Fandom | Characters (ships, if applicable} | content warnings. Most of these will be oneshots, but a few might be 2 or 3-shots

  1. Together Alone - Yearning | Deltarune/Undertale | Tenna, Seam (Spamton/Tenna, Seam/Jevil) | mild gun usage
  2. Dreaming of a Worse Tomorrow - Prophecy | Deltarune/Undertale | Seam, Jevil (Seam/Jevil)
  3. Cold as Stone - Isolation | Deltarune | Ramb, Tenna | brief alchohol usage
 
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Together Alone | Yearning | Deltarune/Undertale New

windskull

Bidoof Fan
Staff
Partners
  1. sneasel-nip
  2. bidoof
  3. absol
  4. kirlia
  5. windskull-bidoof
  6. little-guy-windskull
  7. purugly
  8. mawile
  9. manectric
  10. zoroark-hisui
Together Alone
Prompt: Yearning
Fandom: Deltarune/Undertale

Summary: Seam encounters another human affected by the sealing of all monsters underground.


“You're one of them! One of the magicians!”


Seam’s fingers tightened around their cup. The excitable teen in front of them stared with sparkling eyes. They wished he wouldn't.


The chatter around them died away as the eyes of the pub’s other patrons turned to look at them, waiting for their response.


They tugged at their brown cloak, the fur lining tickling their neck, ran a hand through their scruffy purple hair, and smiled wanly. “...Yes, I suppose I am.”


The teen broke out into a wide grin. “That’s so cool! What was it like? Did the monsters fight back?”


Seam let their one eye wander across the room, gauging the mood of the room. Several faces stared with awe, others with careful curiosity. A few cast pitying gazes. A few turned away with disgust. One man in the back of the room locked eyes with them behind thick glasses, then quickly averted his gaze.


“It was a group effort. I was but one of many, and it came at a great cost.” To demonstrate, Seam held up their hand. A few weak sparks jumped onto the table, dying away. It was all they could manage, and they knew soon they wouldn’t be able to do that. It was only a matter of time before the last, sputtering fumes of human magic died out. “It was just the way it had to be.”


One of the lad’s companions pushed his way to the front. “Please, let me buy you a drink! It would be an honor for a war hero such as yourself! I’m sure everyone would love to hear more!”


Seam didn't respond right away, taking a final swig of their drink and reaching into a satchel beneath their cloak to pull out a handful of coins, depositing them on the table.


“It's kind of you to offer,” Seam said, reaching for their staff — now little more than a glorified walking stick, “but I'm afraid I'll have to pass. I'm hardly a hero, after all. There were no winners in the war.”


After giving a bow to the patrons, they slipped out the door and into the dark of the night.


Gas lamps lit the main thoroughfare, casting the cobblestone street in an orange glow. Seam hurried down the road, their staff clicking each time it made contact with the stone. Exhaustion tugged at the back of their mind. Given they’d been recognized, it seemed like it was probably time to move on from this town. A shame; they’d quite liked the amenities. Perhaps they could still stock up on tea and a book in the morning before leaving. For now, they just wanted to sleep. It seemed like that was all they cared to do these days.


As they rounded a corner, back towards the inn they’d been staying at, their footsteps slowed. They could hear another set of footsteps coming closer. Someone was following them. Tightening their grip on their staff, they took a quick look at their surroundings before starting to walk again. Best to take this somewhere private. Away from prying eyes, in case it got messy.


Seam turned down a narrow sidestreet, walking far enough that they were enveloped in darkness, with only a spattering of torchlight and the moon to illuminate the scene. Only then did they stop.


“I know you’re following me,” they called without turning. “You may as well hurry it up.”


The sound of racing footsteps followed, pausing just a few feet away. They heard a shuffling noise, followed by the click of a gun before they felt cold metal pressed to the small of their back.


Seam smiled wryly. Surviving the war only to be gunned down by a human anyway. What a way that would be to go. “You should know this isn’t the first time I’ve had an attempt on my life. To whom do I owe the pleasure?”


“That’s none of your business.” The voice was masculine, seething with anger.


“Will it bring you peace, to kill?” The stranger didn’t respond. “Whoever it was you lost, it won’t bring them back.”


A hand roughly grabbed their shoulder, spinning them around before shoving them against the wall. The back of Seam’s head knocked against the brick. They grit their teeth, focusing on taking the stranger in. Although it was dark, they could make out some features.


Seam was by no means short, but the man had a good six inches on them, at least. He was lanky and dark in complexion, with pale, tightly curled hair that came down to his chin. His eyes hid behind thick glasses. Seam recognized him as one of the patrons from the pub.


“Well? Will you humor me with your name?”


The man stuck the pistol beneath Seam’s chin. His other hand kept Seam pressed against the wall, bunched in their cloak. When he spoke, they could smell alcohol on his breath.


“Hah hah. I think you’ve talked enough, magician!”


“What else do I have left, but my voice?”


“You really don’t know when to shut up, do you?”


“I’ve been told it’s one of my many flaws.” Seam chuckled humorlessly. “By all means, kill me if it makes you happy. I’ve been waiting to die for a while now. I’ve not much to live for these days. But if you’d prefer, I’d much rather have this conversation over a cup of tea, mister…”


The hand with the gun trembled. The man grit his teeth. “Anthony. Anthony Tenna. You took everything from me, you and the rest of those magicians.”


Seam’s expression shifted from a dark smile to pity. “Your name is familiar. You were a lord, before the war, were you not? Tell me who you lost.”


“You like to play mind games, don’t you?” Anthony accused. “Is that how you’ve evaded justice for so long?”


Seam let out a dramatic sigh. “Your guess is as good as mine. Who was it? Who were they to you, Ant?”


Anthony yanked them forward, so that they were standing forehead to forehead. “Don’t call me that! You don’t get to call me that!”


Whack!


In one fluid motion, Seam smacked Anthony with their staff. He let go, gun clattering to the ground.


“You’re not alone in your loss,” Seam said, taking a step back to pick up the flintlock pistol. They stashed it in their cloak. “We only did what we had to, to end the war. Even among the magicians, there were those of us that lost friends. Lovers, even. Including myself. I’d be happy to talk to you about it over tea. I’ll even give you your pistol back, when we’re done. It’s up to you.”


Anthony didn’t seem satisfied with that, as he lunged for Seam again. “Why aren’t you afraid?”


“Dearest Mr. Tenna, I have lived through a war and had to help seal my beloved away. I lost my magic as a consequence. I do not fear the day the reaper comes for me. Why would I ever be afraid of a solitary sad man with a gun?” They turned and started to walk. “Come now, the inn I’m staying at is this way. You may join me if you wish.”


It brought the smallest amount of joy to Seam’s cold and empty heart to hear footsteps follow them.




Neither of them spoke again until the tea was served, aside from asking how much sugar Mr. Tenna took his tea with.


Only once they were both seated, each with a steaming cup sitting in front of them, the teapot sitting between them at the center of the table, did Seam continue the conversation.


“So,” they began, cupping their hands around their tea, “I've heard a bit about you. A disgraced lord that spent his fortune outfitting the monsters. The only thing that saved you from the noose for treachery was your title, but in the end you lost all your possessions.” They paused, looking over the vivid red tailcoat Anthony was wearing, even if it was disheveled from their scuffle. “Well, almost everything.”


“Please, you don't know the first thing about me.” Anthony leaned back, and Seam could only imagine he was rolling his eyes behind those thick frames.


“Oh? Please enlighten me. What part of the story is false?”


Anthony clenched his jaw and didn't say anything at first, reaching down for his cup to take a sip of tea. Afterwards, he smiled, brow knit together. “There was never any arrest or trial. Could you imagine that? Me, in bindings, paraded around like some sort of… sort of… common criminal? No, I left under the cover of night. But I'm sure you understand that I can't go back. Nor can I let you spread knowledge that I’m here. That would be a disaster.”


“Yes, I'm sure it would be.” Seam leaned back cup in one hand and saucer in the other. They took a long draw of the tea. “Now then, the night isn't getting any younger.”


Anthony’s expression shifted, playful anger replaced with exhaustion that made his shoulders slump. He said nothing.


“Perhaps it would help if I told you my story first,” Seam said after a moment. “I used to travel with a band of street performers, a mix of human and monster magicians and the sort. I had a partner in my act, a monster who wasn't afraid to take risks for the sake of providing entertainment. He was incredible.”


They closed their eye, picturing their time on the stage, traveling the land. “I never met any other human or monster like him. Not a day goes by that I don't miss that handsome devil.”


“Then why did you help them?” Anthony’s voice cracked. “Why help create the barrier?”


Seam couldn't help the bitter exhaustion that seeped into their tone. “The monsters were fighting a losing battle and they knew it. The sealing was the only way to ensure their survival. At least… that’s what I tell myself.” Seam sighed and shook their head. “But I admit, without his light, I find my worldview growing darker, yet darker, and I wonder if there was any way to prevent this.”


They elected not to burden Mr. Tenna with the rest of their story, the way the war changed Jevil, or the dreams he'd shared with Seam in the months leading up to The Sealing, convincing them that this was the only way to save him. Even if… even if it meant living far apart. Not to mention the fight that had cost them their eye.


Anthony folded his hands in his lap, staring at the floor for a long time.


“His name was Spamton. My little mailman. Haha. That's how we met. He used to bring me my mail. We grew close. He always talked about wanting to be something more though.” He chuckled humorlessly “We wanted to be something more, throwing parties and entertaining the world over. But he was a monster and I was a lord. In this political climate? We could never make it official. I mean, could you imagine the scandal?”


He held his hands up, palms up, and shook his head with a rueful smile. “And then the war started. As things were, he couldn't work anymore. Then he got conscripted as a messenger. I'd go weeks without hearing from him, not knowing if he was still alive. I threw all the resources I could to help the cause.


“One day, when we were talking about the future, a telegram came to the house, addressed to him. I don't know what it said or how the sender knew to find him there, but it couldn't have been good. He raced out without a word. It was the last time I saw him.”


Anthony reached up to run his palm against each eye, wiping away thick tears. “I had to flee not long after. And then The Sealing happened. I don't know if he's even still alive. And now there's no way to find out!”


Seam’s heart broke for the man. At least they knew Jevil was alive. At least their colleague knew Gerson was alive. Mr. Tenna did not have that luxury.


“I am sorry the war took so much from you,” Seam finally said, their tone low and rasping. “There is not much I can say to provide comfort, but you are not alone. There are other friends and lovers that were torn apart. Others that may be able to relate. Some of them were there when the monsters were sealed. Perhaps they can provide closure.”


You were there,” Anthony pointed out. “Maybe you saw him. He’s humanoid, but also kind of bird-like, with wings and black and white feathers — mostly white. Please. He had to be there, right?”


Seam closed their eye. “There were many monsters there. I’m sure I saw some monsters with a similar description but… I cannot say if any of them were him, and I do not wish to provide you with false hope. I’m sorry. “


Mr. Tenna’s shoulders slumped before he forced a pained smile. “That’s. Fine. That’s fine! It’s not like I haven’t been living with the dread all this time. Who needs them anyway? Not us, apparently! We didn’t need magic either, given that we gave it all up over something! So! Stupid!” Anthony slammed his fist on the table. His (thankfully empty) tea cup clattered onto its side.


He immediately wilted. “...I miss him.”


“I know.”


“I’m never going to see him again.”


“I’m sorry.”


“Sorry doesn’t bring him back!”


“No, it doesn’t,” Seam agreed.


There wasn’t anything else to say. Seam poured themselves another cup of tea and settled back in their seat.


There was little they could do for Tenna. There was little that they could do for themselves. But… at least they could lend a listening ear. After their role in The Sealing, it was the least they could do.
 
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Dreaming of a Worse Tomorrow | Prophecy | Deltarune/Undertale New

windskull

Bidoof Fan
Staff
Partners
  1. sneasel-nip
  2. bidoof
  3. absol
  4. kirlia
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  7. purugly
  8. mawile
  9. manectric
  10. zoroark-hisui
Dreaming of a Worse Tomorrow
Prompt: Prophecy
Fandom: Detarune/Undertale

Summary: The war between humans and monsters made it difficult for Seam to slip away and visit their beloved Jevil, so they took all the opportunities they could to meet. But this time, they realize something is wrong. Something is different about the way Jevil carries himself. And as they talk, Jevil begins to describe the strange dreams he's been having, dreams about the fate of humans and monsters.



Something was wrong. Seam could tell just from the look in Jevil’s eyes.


It had been weeks since they’d seen him last. These days, with the war raging like an inferno, it was rare Seam could sneak away from their duties. Especially when said duties pitted them against monster kind, in a war they wanted no part of, but found themselves embroiled in anyways.


Only by the grace of sympathetic colleagues, some of which found themselves in similar situations, did Seam get a chance to sneak away for these meetings. And even then, they had to be careful.


For Jevil, it was different. There were monsters that would judge him for seeking companionship with a human. But the real problem lay in taking a capable fighter away from the front lines, especially as casualties on the monster side climbed ever-higher.


Even in normal times, any change in Jevil’s demeanor would concern Seam. But the circumstances as they were only made them worry more.


Seam’s immediate thought was that the strange look on Jevil’s face had something to do with the state of things on the monster side. Bells jingled as he dropped down from the tree he’d been waiting in, tail twitching and eyes distant, the slightest of frowns on his face. He was quiet. Abnormally so.


“Jevil?” Seam began, dropping to their knees to be closer to eye level. They opened their arms to offer an embrace. Sometimes the jester took it, sometimes he did not. But they knew from experience that Jevil always wanted to be the one to initiate contact. “Is everything alright?”


A beat of silence followed, then Jevil’s gaze finally seemed to focus on them, his frown twisting to the slightest of grins. “OF COURSE, OF COURSE, NO TROUBLE AT ALL. NOTHING MORE THAN THE USUAL. EXCEPT, PERHAPS, A MATTER MOST QUEER THAT YOU MIGHT HAVE KNOWEDGE OF.”


The jester rocked on his heels, back and forth, but made no motion to move, so Seam shifted to sit in the grass, giving the clearing one quick glance before returning their attention fully to Jevil. “Well then, tell me about it, my dear. I am all ears.”


Jevil took a seat in front of them, sitting cross-legged. He tilted his head, the bells dangling from his horns jingling. “IT STARTED WITH A DREAM, A DREAM, THE SOUND OF A VOICE UNSEEN. MANY A MONSTER, IN AN ALL-ENCOMPASING DARK. THE HUMANS HUDDLE IN THE LIGHT. THEY THINK THEMSELVES SAFE, SAFE. THE MONSTERS TRAPPED, TRAPPED. BUT I WONDER. WHO IS THE TRAPPED AND WHO IS THE FREE?” He leaned forward, his smile faltering and gaze serious. “AND WHAT DOES IT SAY OF YOU AND ME, ME?”


Seam was not sure how to respond at first. They reached over for their staff, sitting it over their lap, then draped their arms over it, clasping their hands together. “Is this a riddle of some sort?” they began slowly.


“NO RIDDLE, RIDDLE, TRULY SOMETHING I'VE SEEN. BUT ONLY IN MY DREAMS.”


Well, that eliminated the least concerning reason. “Does it have to mean anything? Perhaps it is just a bad dream, a troubling side effect of the war we find ourselves in. I imagine it is… difficult, involved in the fight as you are.”


It was an extreme understatement. Seam wished they could take Jevil away from the fight. He was an entertainer. They both were! Meant to bring joy to human and monster alike! But instead they were trapped in this conflict, trapped on opposing sides. Seam swore an oath to protect the kingdom, a vow not easily broken. But for Jevil and the monsters, this was a matter of life or death. For now, they had not been called to war, only called to use their magic for healing. But who knew when that would change?


“PERHAPS, PERHAPS.” Jevil pulled back, his expression troubled. “BUT THERE WERE MORE. MORE DREAMS OF THE DARK, AND THAT BECKONING VOICE. A BECKONING VOICE THAT OFFERS A CHOICE. THE TRUTH AT A COST. FREEDOM TO SEE, SEE. WHAT WAS AND IS AND WILL BE, BE. THE END OF THE WAR OR, PERHAPS, MORE.”


Seam frowned, reaching for Jevil’s hand. “Dearest, these are dreams and nothing more. Does the fighting trouble you?” They shook their head quickly. How could they ask that? They already knew it did. “If it is so troubling, perhaps there’s another position you could fill?”


Jevil shook his head. “IT IS TOO LATE, LATE FOR THAT. THE VOICE CAME MORE AND MORE UNTIL I ACCEPTED ITS LITTLE FREEDOM. AND IN DOING SO, IT GIFTED ME MINE. I SEE NOW WHAT IS TO PASS IF MONSTERKIND IS TO BE SAFE.”


Unease prickled along Seam’s spine. They humored Jevil anyways. “What do you mean?”


“TWO WORLDS, DIVIDED BY LIGHT. A KINGDOM OF MONSTERS AND A KINGDOM OF MEN SEPARATED INTO LIGHT AND DARK, NEVER TO MEET AGAIN WITHOUT THE ANGEL’S WILL. BUT NOT WITHOUT COST. UEE HEE HEE! THE HUMANS LOSE MUCH IN A WAR OF DISTRUST.”


“Jevil… Are you sure you should be trusting these dreams of yours? Seam’s brow knit together. “Does it not all sound a bit farfetched to you. There’s no guarantee that any of this will happen. And I wouldn’t want you working yourself up over it.”


“BUT IT MUST, MUST. IT WILL, WILL. THE ECHOES OF FATE DRIFT EVER CLOSER.” He faltered, drooping with a sigh. He took a few steps forward, tossing aside Seam’s staff so that he could settle into their lap.


“I DO NOT WISH IT TO BE SO. HOW LONELY, LONELY I WILL BE WITHOUT YOU.”


“You won’t be,” Seam said sternly. They reached up to wrap their arms around Jevil. He closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. “Because I will do everything in my power to ensure it doesn’t come to pass. There has to be a way to end this war and still be together. There must be.”


“YOU ARE BUT ONE VOICE, A WHISPER IN THE WIND,” Jevil countered, tail swishing from side to side. “PERHAPS YOU CAN CHANGE FATE, PERHAPS NOT. YOU HAVE A CHOICE, CHOICE TO MAKE. TO ARGUE AGAINST THE SEALING, OR TO PLAY A PART. OR PERHAPS NOTHING, NOTHING AT ALL. BUT, MY DEAREST SEAM, YOU MUST REMEMBER.”


He paused and, with a flourish of his hand, made a handful of diamond-shaped bullets appear before tossing them aside. Then he smiled a pained smile, a rare moment of fear that Seam had never seen before. “WHAT HAPPENS COULD BE A FATE MOST WORSE.”
 
Cold as Stone | Isolation | Deltarune New

windskull

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  9. manectric
  10. zoroark-hisui
Cold as Stone
Prompt: Isolation
Fandom: Deltarune

Summary: His foot felt numb. He shifted his position to try and get comfortable and wake it up, but it wouldn’t move. Looking down, he realized it was… harder than it should be. He reached down to touch it, and found it cold and hard. Stone.

He was turning to stone.

Of course. Of course he would. He was never meant to be here. So why wouldn’t he?



Ramb couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt a lightner’s touch. It must have been years ago by now. He hadn’t felt a darkner’s touch in a long time either, for that matter. It wasn’t like he had any close connections in TV World, stuck behind the bar making drinks for uncaring employees or sleeping off his latest headache. Tenna getting unplugged had only made everything worse.


So when the dark fountain opened, when the lightners came, when Kris of all people, came, he allowed himself to hope that maybe things would change. He could set up the kind of games he remembered Kris liking, facilitate some real fun. Bring a smile back to their face.


He leaned over the counter as the lightners arrived in the green room, watching as they wandered around and spoke with some of the other crew with a fond smile. It was good to see Kris hanging out with friends. They were always such a lonely kid.


Finally, Kris made their way over to the counter for their prize and Ramb handed it over. They made small talk for a few minutes, and Ramb hinted at something special set up in the S-rank room, shooting Kris a wink.


But Kris’s expression never changed from that careful, neutral look. Kris never smiled, never showed any interest. Then they wandered back towards the stage without ever even entering the S-Rank room or acknowledging Ramb further. He felt his core break a little, shoulders slumped as he picked up a rag to polish the countertop.


Well, that was alright. Tenna was clearly intent on making them stick around for a while, for some reason. There would be time after the second, haphazard board.


But their conversation after the second board was even briefer. Kris came by to accept their prize, then they headed towards the exit. Ramb watched the argument with the zapper blocking the door with dull eyes. What was the point of trying? Kris clearly wasn’t interested in him. They weren’t interested in Tenna either; he could tell. They were just going through the motions. He could relate, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.


Things didn't get much further than that, though. The lightners were captured, then slipped away. Tenna called for all hands on deck. Ramb sighed and went out the back, but didn't make it further than the green room before Tenna stopped him.


“Ramb! There you are!”


He blinked up at Tenna with a neutral expression, unfazed by the looming CRT, and waited. “Let's make this quick. Come with me.” Tenna spun around and stalked towards the exit, giving Ramb little choice but to follow out into the snow.


As they walked, Tenna ranted to myself. “I can't believe the lightners would just run off like that! I mean, we were having so much fun! They're supposed to be having fun!”


“Maybe they found the boards boring,” Ramb suggested as they stopped under the tree Tenna kept up year round.


Shut up!” Tenna snapped, whirling on Ramb before his screen flickered. He stood up straight and fished in his coat pocket for a walkie talkie, which he dropped into Ramb’s hands. “What would you know about real fun anyway?”


Not much, apparently, Ramb thought, given his failure to entice Kris. Out loud, he said, “What am I doing out here?


“I'm so glad you asked!” Tenna gestured to a large prize capsule resting against the trunk of the tree. “I need you to keep an eye on dearest Toriel while I and the rest of the crew track down the other lightners. It is imperative that she doesn't wake up!”


Ramb took a step closer, putting a hand on the capsule. Sure enough, he could see Toriel through the clear top, snoring away on a royal purple throne. “You put her in a capsule?”


“Yes, yes, to keep her safe. Don’t worry, it’s got airholes.” Tenna waved a hand dismissively, already rushing back towards the studio. “I’ll be in touch! So don’t dare slack off!” Then the doors slammed shut, leaving Ramb out in the cold with Toriel.


He let out a quiet sigh, getting to one knee before sitting down against the capsule. Snow fell in quiet flurries around him. In the distance, the dark fountain pulsed, the distant glow cycling through different colors.


“Why didn’t you ever take me back?” Ramb asked, addressing Toriel despite knowing she couldn’t answer. “Kris hasn’t played with me in years. They obviously don’t need me anymore…” Although he wished that wasn’t the case. “And it’s not like I’m of any use to you. I’m not compatible with the darkners here, and I’m not useful in the light world either. I’ve known that for a long time.”


He was met with silence, and was content to leave it that way for a while. But eventually he let out a humorless chuckle. “It wasn’t like I didn’t appreciate you Dreemurrs, luv. Kris gave me a purpose in life. A way to be useful, when I wasn’t otherwise. But now?” He looked down at his hands, turning them over. “I might as well just be junk, yeah?”


A heavy feeling welled up in his chest. He tried to force it down, Instead, he let out a sob and rubbed at his eye sockets. He didn’t belong here. He never had. He was always on borrowed time. Always just waiting to be discarded the moment the lightners grew bored of him. He only wondered why he hadn’t realized it already happened.


His foot felt numb. He shifted his position to try and get comfortable and wake it up, but it wouldn’t move. Looking down, he realized it was… harder than it should be. He reached down to touch it, and found it cold and hard. Stone.


He was turning to stone.


Of course. Of course he would. He was never meant to be here. So why wouldn’t he?


The radio in his pocket crackled. “Ramb!”


Ah, right. Tenna.


He couldn’t muster up the energy to fake cheeriness. “What do you need?”


The CRT’s voice crackled over the radio. “How is Toriel?”


Ramb glanced up at the capsule. She still looked like she was sleeping peacefully. “She rolled over in her sleep,” he lied.


“WHAT!? She ROLLED OVER in her SLEEP!?”


“That’s what I said, innit?”


“Did you try the CLASSICAL MUSIC CHANNEL like I SAID!?”


“You didn’t say anything about that, mate,” Ramb replied with a frown.


“Well it was IMPLIED!” Tenna shouted at him. “You know she’ll be in GRAVE DANGER if she wakes up, RIGHT?”


Ramb suppressed a sigh. Tenna was really in one of his moods this time. He was going to be a pain later.


Oh, right. There wasn’t going to be a later for him. He was already turning to stone.


So why was he still putting up with Tenna?


“You know what, mate? I don’t have to deal with this,” Ramb replied, keeping his voice matter-of-fact. “I think I’m done.”


“What are you saying?”


“I’m quitting.”


“What? You QUIT!? You can’t Quit!!!”


Ramb tossed the walkie talkie aside, even as he heard Tenna shouting his name. With some effort, he struggled to his feet and began to limp inside, dragging his petrified limb behind him. The stone was slowly expanding, and he didn’t care to be out here when it happened. He could at least make it inside, right?


He left scuffs in the tile flooring as he reached the green room, then shuffled through the S-Rank room and into the entrance to his stand. At least he could have one last drink, maybe.


He tried to lift his left arm, but it wouldn’t move. He couldn’t feel it. It was stone.


Below the stand, he shuffled around glass jars until he found a squirreled away bottle of battery acid, something he saved for special occasions, or for when he was feeling really down.


Well, that certainly described the current moment. He downed a few hearty glugs, relishing the burn, then put it back under the counter. He didn’t want the kids to see evidence of him drinking if they came back through.


Twelve years trapped in TV world, only for it all to come to an end like this. Drinking alone in his bar, without anyone who cared. The pippins would probably raid the bar once they realized he was gone. They wouldn’t shed a tear. Tenna would be glad to be rid of his smart mouth. The zappers and shadowguys? Forget it. He might as well be window dressing to them.


As he felt the petrification reach his neck, he found he wasn’t scared. This was always how it was going to end, wasn’t it? Freedom was never in the cards for a discardable thing like him.


He hadn’t feared something like this for a long time.


He might as well have already been stone inside.
 
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