The Plot Thickens

Clarity.

The walk home was abnormally long. Along the same path he had gone so many times, the one where he was once mugged, the one where he had once proposed, the one which he loved. Somehow this time was the most saddening.

The server was going to get raided, and no one would believe him. He growled softly, kicking a small pebble far into the road. Right in front of his old, sad looking home, He sighed as he entered his house, more miserable than he had been in a long while.

Doodle tumbled into his restroom, his gate awfully askew. He took a good look at himself in the mirror, taking it all in. God, he hadn't looked at himself in awhile. His face was covered in muck, and dried blood lined his forehead. He looked terrible.

But he didn't feel like washing up. Not now. Not after the loss he had just took. And he would have cried, too, if he had the energy to. All he could manage was to slump over the sink, and let the weight of the object hold him up.

But he quickly jumped when he saw a sudden movement in the mirror. He swiftly turned around, his eyes wide looking at the familiar man who stood before him.

"TAS?"

"Yup. I smelt the sadness two blocks down. Miss me?" TAS said. Doodle could tell by the tone of his voice he was joking—classic Tool Assisted Speedrun.

"But, I thought you were dead?" In high school, Doodle round house kicked TASS right in the face, he thought he had killed him. Apparently not.

"My death was...greatly exaggerated," TASK came a bit further in the room, looking Doodle up and down. "You don't look so hot. And I don't mean that literally, you're very attractive. But I heard what happened."

"It's none of your business," Doodle decided to ignore the comment on his appearance. But he just wanted to put r/WingsOfFire behind him at this point—the whole server could blow up for all he cared.

Lil TAS x frowned, scratching his chin. "You can't just run away from your problems, Doodle. If you don't make things right, nothing will get better. You should have learned that damned well with ARS," at that, Doodle fumed.

"Don't say his name!" He staggered forward, and very well may have slapped his old friend silly, if he had the energy. "I've moved on. That's not a bad thing."

"But you loved him. And you let him leave you?" Doodle was only getting more angry, but he lowered his stance. No matter how salty he was—TASsachusetts was right. "I would know. I made the same mistake. Back in high school."

"What do you mean?"

"I had a crush on you, Doodle. But instead of telling you, I let you prance off with jolly ol' ARS. Instead of fighting for you, I let you go. And I don't want you making the same mistake I did."

Doodle looked at the man like he was crazy. A crush? On him? It just didn't seem plausible. "You can't be serious. Quit pulling my leg jackass."

"I assure you, I'm being truthful," Dosmoss shook his head and looked away. "That's all I'm giving you. Do what you will with it," he swiftly took off toward the door, turning back as he began to exit, "adios, mon ami."

"Uh...adios?"

The door shut, and Doodle was left to ponder his words. It sounded logical, and maybe he was right. But one thing still didn't add up to him.

How the hell did he get in his house?