WHAT: Tavros' rescue.
WHO: Tavros and... whoever idk participation isn't required!
WHEN: The Dark Hour, after Tavros shows up on TV.
WHERE: His dungeon, an imploding version of Tavros' former hive.

The black hole in the middle of Tavros' respiteblock had grown since his shadow first created it. Most of the items that once littered the floor had fallen in, and there was nothing Tavros could do but watch them disappear into the void. A couple of oogonibombs rolled in, and he listened, waiting for them to hit the bottom. How far down did the hole go, anyway? Tavros didn't know; but at the rate things were going, he had a feeling he was about to find out.

And his shadow wasn't treating him any better. If anything, interacting with people through the television had only worsened his behavior. He was angry, an emotion Tavros himself rarely experienced, much less expressed. At some point, he had managed to save Tavros' lance from falling into the bottomless pit; and every now and then, in between crying and screaming like a spoiled child, he would threaten to run Tavros through with it 'just like Vriska did.' Tavros thought he could escape his shadow by running to the other end of the room, but the hole had grown so large that he couldn't reach the door if he tried.

"Why does everyone want to stop me?" Tavros' shadow wondered aloud. He then turned sharply on his heel. "Why does everyone want you?!"

Tavros flattened himself against the wall. "I-I-I, uhh..." he started, unable to look himself in the eye. "I r-really don't know, b-but..."

But he hoped they would come soon.

"Sh-Shut up!" His shadow stomped again. "You're only alive because you ran from me! Why are you such a coward?!"

As Tavros watched his recuperacoon tip over and fall into nothing, he couldn't come up with an answer. Between his shadow and the rift, it was only a matter of time until one—or both—did him in.