017 || Dream State
*Masky doesn't sleep, but the mansion has decided to rectify that problem by knocking him out cold. And while he doesn't dream Tim certainly does.
Welcome to their mind.*
Tim is standing in the middle of the forest smoking. Every tree surrounding him is thinner and has more branches than any tree should. They all appear to be wearing suits and have street lamps suspended from them. Tim is unperturbed by this, focusing on lighting his cigarette. Behind him, attempting to hide behind a tree much too slender to conceal him, is his masked self.
Tim glances directly at him and shakes his head. “I can see you.”
“Can?”
“You're not hidden. Stop it. You already stalk everyone else. You're not gonna stalk me too.”
The masked man emerges from behind the tree and sits on a stump near Tim, hunching over and looking miserable.
“Head hurts.”
“No fucking shit. You're in there putting holes in my brain and who knows what else. You should sleep. I have a bed asshole. Use it. I hate waking up in the freaking closet.”
“Would still hurt.”
“Then get the fuck out of my head! Get your own damn body and fuck that up instead. You know you broke your arm right?!? My arm. Our arm. Whatever.”
“Didn't mean to.”
“Oh that makes it so much better. Stop pissing everyone off and getting beat up. I like being all in one piece. Oh. Oh that reminds me. DON'T FUCKING GET KILLED ANYMORE. What the hell, man? What the fuck were you doing?”
Masky sulks and Tim glares and this continues for some time.
Welcome to their mind.*
Tim is standing in the middle of the forest smoking. Every tree surrounding him is thinner and has more branches than any tree should. They all appear to be wearing suits and have street lamps suspended from them. Tim is unperturbed by this, focusing on lighting his cigarette. Behind him, attempting to hide behind a tree much too slender to conceal him, is his masked self.
Tim glances directly at him and shakes his head. “I can see you.”
“Can?”
“You're not hidden. Stop it. You already stalk everyone else. You're not gonna stalk me too.”
The masked man emerges from behind the tree and sits on a stump near Tim, hunching over and looking miserable.
“Head hurts.”
“No fucking shit. You're in there putting holes in my brain and who knows what else. You should sleep. I have a bed asshole. Use it. I hate waking up in the freaking closet.”
“Would still hurt.”
“Then get the fuck out of my head! Get your own damn body and fuck that up instead. You know you broke your arm right?!? My arm. Our arm. Whatever.”
“Didn't mean to.”
“Oh that makes it so much better. Stop pissing everyone off and getting beat up. I like being all in one piece. Oh. Oh that reminds me. DON'T FUCKING GET KILLED ANYMORE. What the hell, man? What the fuck were you doing?”
Masky sulks and Tim glares and this continues for some time.