I wrote about a thousand words in two hours.
I've still got it, fools
~**~
"Whatcha reading?"
Dream looked up from his phone, making the closest thing to eye contact with George. "Old legends. Like, stuff about Herobrine, Null, that stuff."
"Nice." George stood on the tips of his toes, trying to see the screen of Dream's phone. Said man noticed what his shorter friend was attempting to do, and lifted the phone up instead, making it harder and harder for George to see.
He huffed, muttering something about height being a social construct before grabbing his own phone, probably texting someone.
Dream smirked, returning his phone to where he normally holds it, scrolling through a new article. "'10 Recent Herobrine Sightings That Were Actually Real,'" he read aloud. "Doubt it."
George laugh-snorted. "They wish."
Dream continued reading the article, noting the exact times and dates for each "sighting." How convenient-
A video.
There was a video at the bottom, a video that could have only been taken by a nighttime security camera, judging by the angle and greyscale visuals.
He clicked on it, letting it play despite his doubts.
The video was silent for the first few seconds, and Dream's famous short attention span begged to just leave, but he stayed.
Twenty seconds in, there was a two short flashes of light, and two figures with glowing eyes popped into existence.
"Holy f*** Dad, why did you even try?" the shorter one shouted, snapping and conjuring a roll of bandages.
Dad?
"I- I thought-" The shorter one - the dad, apparently - coughed, something spouting from his mouth, blood, given by the dark color.
The son scoffed, holding his dad's arm up and bandaging a hefty wound on his forearm. "You thought what, Dad, that all of a sudden you were totally okay to fight a horde of stinkin' endermen? After your fight with the Queen??"
"I didn't attack first!" the dad replied angrily. "I didn't even look at them!"
Dream took that moment to look up himself and take a peek at George. George had his headphones in, probably listening to classical music or whatever it was British people listened to, he hadn't even noticed Dream playing the audio aloud.
"Dad," the son continued, sounding exasperated, "just because you're the Herobrine does not mean you're all-powerful, I thought you had learned this already."
"It's not like anyone calls me Herobrine anymore, Adam," Herobrine laughed.
Adam?
Adam, apparently, sighed. "Yeah. You're just a legend now."
"In more ways than one."
"What do you mean?
"Well," Herobrine gasped a bit as Adam summoned a healing potion to pour on his father's wounds, "you of all people should know that people call celebrities 'legends.'"
A pause. Adam seemed to have to let that nudge settle.
"Dad, you didn't."
"I did."
