A golden cast over Mr. Ring-a-Ding's eyes signifies sunlight and defeat and ascension and Lux. Lux Imperator, reuniting with the heavens. Casting off his shell and returning to an infinite and formless state of being.
It signifies the flight of a god.
...and the grounding of his harbinger.
Mr. Ring-a-Ding falls to the ground, his gaze blank. There is no way to describe the experience of being brought to life under the blinding luminosity of a being beyond the realm of reason, only to be left hollow and small in their absence.
A mind expanded and shrunk. An infinite experience condensed into three short and dizzying months.
Mr. Ring-a-Ding tries to push himself to his feet, tumbling down again as soon as he's upright.
Jeepers. Maybe he'll just stay riiiight here for a while. He can enjoy the warmth of the sunlight, the plush carpet, the scent of smoke and burnt film...
Waitaminute. The fire! Did everyone get out okay?
Hopping up to his feet with a burst of newfound energy, Mr. Ring-a-Ding scrambles up the rubble of the steps as fast as he can climb them. ...which, admittedly, isn't very fast at all.
"Hello? Is anyone still-- still here?" The Doctor? Belinda?
...Mister Pye!
The toon hacks and coughs as he gets closer to the source of the explosion, smoke and debris heavy in the air. He might not technically need to breath like a human would, but it still feels appropriate to respond to his environment.
"Is anybody in here?"
For a long moment, Mr. Ring-a-Ding doesn't notice much of anything. Then, like a guiding light from on-high (should he say "thank you, Lux"?), a shaft of sunlight flickers over an unmoving form amidst the rubble.
"Hold on, Mr. Pye! I'm comin'!" The toon pants and heaves as he struggles to move piles of broken walls and shelves off of the man's body. With the limp frame finally free, Mr. Ring-a-Ding digs in his heels to drag Mr. Pye out into a clearer section of the theater, being as mindful as he can be about the angry-looking burns and scorch marks littering the poor man's limbs.
"Come on, don't go into the light..." (If Lux Imperator is all the light in the cosmos, is he "the light at the end of the tunnel," too? Something to ponder at a later date.)
Mr. Ring-a-Ding sits on the human's chest, giving him one big slap to knock some sense back into him. That's almost certainly not proper human medical procedure, but Mr. Ring-a-Ding is frightened and his thoughts are jumbled and this sort of thing always seems to work in his cartoons.
When Mr. Pye blinks open his eyes, he'll find himself prone, in pain, and with an all-too-familiar blue face peering down at him from above.
@deploy-the-fantasy -- !