ᴛᴀᴠʀos ɴɪᴛʀᴀᴍ ♉ (
rocketchair) wrote in
thoughtformed2011-09-22 08:18 pm
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uHH, iT'S STILL MIDNIGHT, rIGHT,
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.
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.
no subject
"Yeah... until they're not," Tavros echoes.
His shadow looks back. He knows that, had it been him, things would have turned out much differently. Tavros himself is aware of that, too. For a second, he almost wishes he had behaved more like this one aspect of himself. But what's done is done; he can't go back and be that person. The only thing he can do is try and incorporate some aspects of his shadow from now on. To 'stand up for himself,' as John once told him.
Tavros looks up at Aradia and frowns, a silent apology for what his shadow said about the games they used to play, but he doesn't deny anything. Little by little, he's starting to accept that the other Tavros' feelings aren't entirely baseless.
The hole in the middle of the room, which had stopped growing for a few minutes, finally starts to shrink back.
"So, uhh... what do we do now?"
Tavros' shadow looks at the hole too, as if accepting his fate; and with a sigh, he tosses his lance into it. He already knows the answer.
no subject
"I'm not sure, actually!"
She looks to Tavros' shadow for some sort of cue, but only catches him throwing the lance into the hole.
"I've never done this before," she continues, as she stands up, dusting off her shirt. "But there's a lot of people here who wanted to help, too, and I think they might know what to do!"
Aradia offers Tavros a hand to help him stand up.
no subject
John steps behind Aradia carefully and puts a hand on her shoulder. "Careful," he mumbles, nodding to the hole. The TV world is weird, and he's not taking any risks.
He shoots her a concerned look before drawing his attention back to Tavros, a gentle smile crossing his face. "Come on. You can do it."
no subject
Tavros hesitates before taking Aradia's hand. His shadow looks at him, also unsure of what to do; and as Tavros himself looks around the room, he replays just a few of the many things he overheard people saying to his shadow on the TV. He had to accept it as a part of himself—the part that wanted to be stronger, to stand up for himself. Only then could he leave.
"W-Well," he begins, moving towards his shadow, who visibly tenses up. "I guess... I do kind of want to, uhh, be tough. Even a little... I-I mean, uhh, sometimes."
He takes in a breath before looking him in the eye. "Kind of like you."
Tavros' shadow sucks his teeth, crosses his arms, and looks away. "Fine. But I still don't like you."
Tavros laughs and looks down at the floor. "That's okay. I, uhh... I don't like me, either."
Just like that, the hole shrinks back into one of his plush toys; and when Tavros looks up again, his shadow is gone.
"D-Did it work?" he asks, looking to John and Aradia for answers. "C-Can we go?"