|| Captain Palette AU| | "I need to find that crown" ||

(14) My Uncle (14)

Palette stood, alone amongst the dead.

He couldn't believe that the goddess of feelings, his grandmother, was still out there. Albeit, she wasn't alive... but she was... alive?

He had no idea how that worked. Sci would be running manic if he knew. Palette wiped his dreary eyes, shaking his head. He needed to find Nightmare. The teenager picked Broomie off the ground, clutching the crown tightly.

It'd be difficult to carry the brush along with the crown, he didn't want to risk losing it.

He stared at it.

It was surreal to finally be holding it. It felt as if the dream of drowning in that ocean was slowly coming into reality. He sat Broomie beneath him, sitting on the brush. He analyzed the crown.

It was old, that was clear yet in perfect condition. The jewel had faded with time and it glittered with a sparkle of hope. The.. the rim of the crown. Palette thought, this was probably... really disrespectful but... he was curious.

He gently took his hat off his head, setting it down beside his feet. He gently placed the crown upon his skull.

Nothing happened, obviously, but it... oddly brought him comfort. The fact that he had found something special that connected him to his long lost uncle. Palette clutched his shoulders, imitating a hug. He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of the crown.

He had no idea what it meant to follow agony. But he suddenly had an idea.

This AU itself was pretty upsetting, what if Nightmare didn't leave?

That.. would explain why Dream hadn't found his hide out, because Dream never came back here. It was too agonizing... It had to be it! Even if he was wrong, it'd just be a little more on his adventure.

Wow, this crown gave him some great ideas!

Palette tried to fit his hat on top of the crown, but that didn't work... alright.

He lifted Broomie up again, placing it on his back. He held the crown within his hand. He lifted his hat off his head, tilting it slightly with a nod.

"It was an honor to meet you, uh.. grandmother Nim. I promise to come back!... when this is all over, maybe I could even bring my dad." Palette spoke with a hopeful smile. The stump didn't reply. Obviously. But now he knew she was watching him. Hopefully, he wouldn't let her down.

Palette assumed Nim couldn't do much when she's... dead. I mean, it seemed difficult for her keep a not-even physical form. Well, it couldn't be too difficult to take a single object to and from.. wherever gods go to die.

But, she seemed to have practically faded by the time it formed physically. Poor Nim.

Palette turned on his heel, facing the destruction before him. He gave an audible gulp as he marched forward and moved past the bodies before him. He attempted not to walk on the corpse of the villagers. Dust kicked up and what could only be described the remains of rotten skin. If it could even be called that anymore. It was just.. mush.

Although, they'd.. kinda deserve it. They pushed Nightmare over the edge, they kinda deserved to be rotting away.

Palette continued to walk down the hill, following the stone path which had been stained black with nightmare's tar... unless it was blood which had been revealed to oxygen for five hundred years. Palette shuttered, neither were desired things to be walking on.

At this point, he couldn't tell if he was hopeful or desperate that things would work out. He..was kinda fucked if it didn't.

Palette's eyes trailed the stone path, it was a winding path that faded down to dirt where Nim stood. So, he was just following it.. Backwards? Probably.