413th post! Now brought to you in overly large letters!
Let there be fanfic.
Prologue:
Pain. Pain was the only feeling Vriska felt. Then the feeling of something sliding out of her chest, something cold and metal. She looked down at the slit. Cerulean blood was leaking out, staining her bright orange god suit. Her knees buckled, and she fell to the ground, feeling the life drain out of her. This is it, she thought. She did it, she actually did it. I lost the bet.
A black haze crept over her vision. Sounds began to blur together and fade. Vriska couldn’t be sure, but she thought she heard a small sob from behind her. All went black and silent, as if something was hovering on a moment’s indecision. A loud noise sounded, rather like the tone of a clock, but a menacing one, one of just judgment.
Everything became a blur. That’s when Vriska realized she could see again, think again, hear again. Her mind was fuzzy; she didn’t know where she was or what she had just been doing. That’s weird, she thought, usually I’m good at remembering things. She looked around. The dreary computer lab of the meteor greeted her, reminding her of the imminent threat of the demon hunting their session. She turned to face the computer she was sitting at. Trollian was open, and on the screen was John with a large bloody hole in his chest. A flicker of something ran across Vriska’s consciousness, but flew off again before she could figure out what it was. She scrolled down John’s timeline to a suitable time, and began trolling him.
Chapter 1:
It seemed so long ago that Vriska last opened up that chat log. She found out quite quickly that it wasn’t real, not this time at least. It was quite clear now; she was not among the living anymore. She was dead, a ghost sentenced to living out the rest of eternity in the dream bubble glubbed up by the gods of the Furthest Ring.
Vriska sighed, kicking some dirt as she continued to wander alone through the bubbles. Dead was not alive. Alive was what John was. At least she spent some time with him, in a way. It wasn’t the right John though. He died before he ever met her, a member of a doomed timeline. He didn’t remember her at all. She decided that she was going to get to know this John again, but before she could, something happened. He just…disappeared. Gone, without a trace. She had been alone ever since, wandering for who knows how long.
The dream bubble shifted again, and a log appeared a little in front of her. She had grown used to these shenanigans, and simply went to sit on it. She noticed that this part of the bubble happened to be in Terezi’s forest, but she did not care. She simply rested back on her hands and looked up the sky with her now white eyes. Blank, lifeless eyes.
She often wondered why she was alone. Surely there had to be more people in these bubbles, because if there was one doomed John, then why not more? And if there were many doomed Johns, why not anyone else? There was clearly some reason she was alone. Punishment perhaps?
Vriska sighed again. She had had this discussion in her head many times already; it just kept looping around and starting again. The only conclusion that she reached that she knew was right was the fact that there was some reason she was alone. She slammed her fist against the log and tried to think about something else.
It turned out that wasn’t hard to do. The dream bubble started rocking violently, and Vriska jumped up from the log and looked around frantically. This kind of thing had never happened before, something was wrong. The bubble pitched and heaved, throwing her to the ground. Then everything settled once more, and it seemed like nothing had ever happened. No. Something did happen. There was something glowing on the horizon.
Her clothes switched instantly to her god-tier outfit, without the hole of course. She lifted herself almost daintily into the air and flew towards the glowing spot on the horizon. As she drew closer, she could see what it was. It appeared to be a window, floating facing downwards high in the sky, showing a view to another dream bubble. Vriska peered into it, seeing an unfamiliar room that appeared to be filled with strange versions of Nepeta’s lusus. She sighed and turned away, but something caught her attention. She turned back slowly. No, she was not seeing things. Her eyes were not white in her reflection.
I have no idea if I should go anywhere with this. I started it before the whole DOTA and Tavrisprite fiasco, so it's not really canon anymore. Not that that really matters all that much though.
Also, the window thing is part of one of my theories. When the power of a window is cut off and your inside, it leads to a dream bubble. So you can use windows to get into and theoretically out of of dream bubbles. Possible revival method? We'll just have to wait.











YOU PROMISED ME CHOCOLATE!!


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