unravel | dream x reader |

[43]

Thinking. That's all Wilbur did anymore. Lots and lots of thinking.

This time, unsurprisingly, he was thinking about the festival. More specifically, the decorative envelope that sat on the table in front of him, which was certainly not addressed to him, nor Tommy. It was addressed to Techno. His palms pressed against the wooden surface, resting on either side of the neatly-wrapped envelope, eyes staring intently at it, as if he was waiting for it to make the first move. He'd been standing like that for at least 10 minutes now, if not more.

The invitation arrived on their doorstep a couple days ago, presumably in the early morning, or at least, that's when he had seen it. He'd quickly swooped it up from the ground, not without taking a quick scan of the area, before taking it down to the base in Pogtopia, situated at the bottom.

He figured he should've been somewhat alarmed by the fact that someone, an anonymous stranger, knew of their occupation in the believed-to-be abandoned ravine. A part of him was. The other part, however, just wanted to prod a stick of dynamite into every nook and cranny of their forest until eventually, a long happy trail of debris and cavities led the even-happier citizens of Manburg down to their gaping front door, where he'd be watching, waiting, with a prideful grin. But, hey, that was just a passing thought, not one he would genuinely consider. Not at all...

The more he got his brain wracked up on the festival, the more pissed he would get. Unfortunately for him, it was all he could think about, especially since the event was to be held tomorrow of all days. All morning he'd been experiencing a strange balance of anger and anticipation, a strange concoction.

He felt anger because it was a constant reminder of what he no longer had. Meaning. Wilbur was set-firm on his beliefs that without his nation, he truly amounted to nothing in this pitiful life of his. Identity meant everything to him, and knowing that Schlatt's slimy, filthy hands had snatched it from his bare hands, tainted it with his mere soul, really got him infuriated. He felt as though he'd let down the people before him, those who first built the nation he admired so much as a young teenager. Losing his name, also meant he lost a part of that, too, and the guilt of that carried an awfully heavy burden on his heart, one he couldn't just shake off with an 'oh, well'. He needed that podium back. Fortunately for him, he would have it, regardless of Schlatt's cooperation.

It's either mercy or war. And, fuck, he'd love to see the colour red painted on his bare palms.

He felt anticipation because the mere thought of standing upon that podium of his again got him incredibly giddy. Wilbur believed that if anyone should have that satisfaction after all that they'd been through, it should be him. He deserved it. And if things do end up going to plan at the festival, then he may be able to have just that tomorrow. How could he not feel excited from that?! Finally, he could have everything back! It's about fucking time, too.

Then, maybe, he could be the one to watch it burn to it's ashes... After all, all great things must come to an end, eventually.

His scheming thoughts were brought to a halt at the sound of approaching footsteps, the vastness of the ravine they were situated in doing a lot to aid his senses. Emerging from the gaping doorway to his right, two silhouettes of red and green came barging through, earning a quiet sigh from the brunette. So much for peace... Appearing from behind him, was taller, stockier frame, bearing a crown and cape. The anarchist himself. He seemed rather exhausted, from the boys' chaotic antics, no doubt, his locks were somewhat disoriented with loose, stray hairs protruding from here and there. All-in-all, he'd seen much better days.

The chatter in the room certainly had increased since the newcomers arrived, the boys seemingly excited over who-knows-what, whilst Techno only huffed an occasional laugh to the odd remark or joke. Wil didn't have a clue at what, though, but he could tell the atmosphere seemed to be pretty lighthearted due to their smiles and bright demeanours. But, suddenly, Tommy spun to face him.