⋆ Video Game Star !! ☆ TnT Duo !!

MIRROR IMAGE / MIRAGE

Its a long walk. Wilbur fears he can feel the heat sinking into his bone marrow, and quickly, he begins to pant. It seems like every few seconds he's wiping sweat from his eyes. It's so lucid, odd for a dream. Wilbur begins to have to jog to keep up with Quackity's long strides. He really misses the air conditioning in the casino.

"Couldn't you have just summoned him to the casino?" Wilbur whines. It had been done before, in the game lore, when Quackity offered Wilbur the position of vice president. That hadn't ended well. "Like before?"

"Like before?" Quackity looks over his shoulder at Wilbur. His strides had begun to slow as they got closer to the van, not that Wilbur noticed. The effort of walking had all his attention. "You mean like.. when I gave him a tour? What are you talking about?"

"Um, yeah. The tour." Wilbur blinks. Ranboo hadn't been blown up yet, then. Or Quackity just didn't like talking about it.

Before Wilbur can think of something clever to ask to perhaps reveal more information, they are at the van, watching Wilbur's foot swing back and forth off the roof.

"Soot!" Quackity calls, standing a good length from the van, hands going to his hips. "Get down here."

There's a groan, and then Wilbur Soot sits up. He looks rather disheveled, taking a moment to fix his glasses and roughly comb his hair. Just looking at him makes Wilbur sweat worse. He was forever haunted by the chill of limbo, wearing his sweater and jacket to fight the cold, yet... Wilbur thinks he could at least lose the jacket in this heat.

Wilbur Soot slides down off the roof of the van, landing with a huff. His knees pop, and he winces, fixing his glasses again. Quackity gives him an unimpressed look, and Wilbur smiles.

"Big Q!" He cheers, clapping his hands together. Behind his red tinted glasses, Wilbur's eyes move to his duplicate. His expression furrows, but the smile remains. "Peculiar. Who is this?"

"I thought you might know." Quackity is loud. There's quite the distance between them, he and Wilbur rest unevenly on a bit of a slope. Wilbur looks down, at the river the bridge goes over. A pleasant little stream. He looks back up at the other two.

Wilbur Soot is quiet, studying the other Wilbur. Indeed, he looks just like he would in-game, though not up to date with the most recent lore. There are streaks of white in his hair, and one eye is red, the other white, both cold and calculating. There's also a pattern of stitches going down his face and across one cheek. Skin on one side of the stitching is a pale white, the other half a rotting gray. Wilbur had designed him to be unsettling, but seeing him like this...

Wilbur looks down at the grass, vision swaying a little. Just a dream. Just a dream.

"He's one of your... your halves. Your identities. Whatever you want to call them." Quackity sighs, frowning over at Wilbur. "Like ghostbur was."

The sound of Quackity's voice seems to snap Wilbur Soot out of his trance, and he looks at Quackity before smiling again. "Yes, I can see that, Q." He smiles a little before reaching into his pocket, pulling out a box of cigarettes and a lighter, both horribly scuffed. He's got fingerless gloves, Wilbur hadn't written that in.

"Where's Ranboo at?" Quackity prompts. "And Tommy?"

"I let Ranboo take the day off, and Tommy..." he sticks a cigarette in his mouth, pocketing the box and starting to try to get the lighter to start. "I don't see how this pertains to the conversation, Big Q." He levels a curious stare at Quackity, a slight lisp because of the cigarette.

Quackity puts his hands in pocket. "Just trying to make conversation, Soot. Why don't we sit down?"

With a huff, Wilbur finally gets the lighter to start, taking a puff of the cigarette before taking it from his mouth. "Sure, yeah." his eyes narrow, but he goes, taking his spot at the picnic table.

Quackity gestures for Wilbur to follow after him, starting forward. Wilbur goes to follow him, but his knee buckles.

He yelps, stumbling, landing in a kneeling position.

He feels Quackity's hands on him in mere seconds. His vision is going black, and his mouth feels so... dry. Bile is rising in his throat. He has to bite it back.

Quackity says something, his tone terse.

Wilbur groans. The heat is too much.

He is rolled onto his back, Quackity's arms hooked under his. Quackity easily pulls him up against his chest. Wilbur would marvel at his strength if he wasn't dying.

He breaks into a coughing fit, eyes shut firmly, and finally when it dies down, something hits his face. Hard. A hand.

Wilbur blinks in surprise, listening to the muffled voice of the other Wilbur growl things. Stuff like keep your eyes open and stay awake.

A few more seconds of bickering between the other two and Wilbur is passed out.