welcome to the testing realm!

[testingrealm]

WELCOME TO THE TESTING REALM!

(independent multimuse!)

rules and info here!

[emptyzone]

... Never that easy. Bluntly speaking, he couldn't blame Pierrot for not immediately jumping to reply. He... No, his brain blocks out the sheer notion of thinking about what Pivolo was doing to him between the time they last met. But that does bring up a good point. How does he deliver the news that... Yes, he's from an alternative... Timeline? Universe? Where Pivolo had only recently gotten the book?

Focus on that later. You actually have to start the conversation in proper, first...

...That whisper. Pierre actually looks behind him, as if half expecting some form of his childhood friend to be there for a moment, but... No. What's more curious is that he isn't speaking French back... His attention returns to that dark corner where Pierrot is clearly tucked away in. Slowly, hesitantly... He begins to close the distance.

He... Isn't equipped for this. Is he..? What is Pierrot experiencing, right now..?

"...P-Pierrot, Qu'est-ce qui se passe? Est-ce que tu… m'entends?" He calls out again, keeping his slightly shaken voice as gentle as he could manage.

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Come on. I know it's around here somewhere. You can find it. Just keep looking. Please?

"W-Walter, I..."

Pierrot blinks. That sound, again. That... voice. His consciousness has been fully brought back into his body, but it still takes a long moment for it to settle. For him to remember where he was, what was going on...

...wait.

Is... did he hear what he thought he did...?

"...s-salut?" Pierrot murmurs, a tremble in his voice. Carefully, slowly, his body eases out of its curled up position. He sits up. And he looks over his shoulder.

He's...

"T-Tu es… de retour..." he says, breathlessly. Pierrot only quietly stares for a moment before desperation harshly grabs him. He scrambles out of that dark corner, standing up and stumbling towards Pierre as if he were an oasis in the middle of a scorching desert.

"Tu es de retour! T-Tu es enfin... Oh mon Dieu, t-tu es... tu es enfin..."

S'il te plaît, ne pars pas. S'il te plaît, ne me quitte plus. Je n'en peux plus...

He pauses, slowly. He's breathing so heavily. He feels so lightheaded from standing so quickly... how long had it been since he'd eaten...?

His legs tremble. Pierrot wobbles, threatening to keel over entirely. He struggles to even get his next words out of his mouth.

"...je… tu m'as manqué…"

[emptyzone]

The room.

...Hesitantly, Pierre puts away his brush. At least he knows he still has it, for sure. He uses the opportunity to lightly brush his fingers past his other pocket, as well... He still has his phone, and probably one or two other smaller things... What good would calling his friends do when they're all busy dealing with whatever that monster left behind to distract everyone? Especially considering he's in a different world, all together..? H...

...His eyes immediately drift to the... 'New' addition to the room. Well, slightly in the shadows, but he could recognize dried paint from a mile away. And... While he couldn't see in that darkness, but. The... Mere implication of the paint being splotched like that... What he bore wintness to before...

... It left him without word, for a bit.

Pierre breaks the silence-- Subtly, by swallowing thickly. He can't help it. This still could be anything. It could be the real thing! It could also... Not be. But who's to say what's more likely than the other, at this point.

"..." A firm inhale through the nose. An exhale through the mouth. Who else could possibly be in this room, and not merely observing it? "...Pierrot? Es-tu là?"

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His existence feels like nothing, as it did most of the time. He can still hear, but he doesn't respond. He couldn't understand them, anyway. Sometimes, they said things, but he couldn't discern any words...

A different noise breaks through. It tugs at him. It pulls at his consciousness, gently trying to bring it back inside of his body.

It isn't quite enough. Not yet.

But one of the voices becomes clearer, as if that sound had made it remember how to properly speak. The fingers of a groggy mind lightly graze it, not quite able to properly grab on.

Pierre... Pierre, did you want to see...? Do you remember that picture? You were in that picture. Can you... find it for me? It's somewhere around here. I think you can find it. Keep looking.

"...Walter... I... don't... where is... zat...?"

A whisper, unconsciously spoken aloud. It's abundantly clear that he isn't talking to Pierre.

[emptyzone]

He refused to let him have this.

Pierre just couldn't let him see him completely on the floor, begging for mercy. Screaming, kicking, crying. That was the end goal. And the cycle would repeat endlessly. What would happen once he was broken? Clearly, since the multiverse exists, he'd just... Move onto another Pierre. And another. And another. He would become the Pierrot, miserable and tortured every waking day of his life. Maybe his friends would be alive but in a world without him, he...

Call it bravado. Call it whatever you want. A foolish optimism. But he kept staring Pivolo down, paintbrush not faltering as he continued to point it at him as laughed. He could hear the two distantly-- Probably confused, gradually approaching his room. Who was he talking to?

...The sound of the chaos outside brought him no solace... Well, maybe it did, to a degree. The fact that these two weren't, in fact, working together. That was the silver lining to this. He didn't think they'd be infighting so soon... Poor Rupestrine. Truly, the most unwilling of battlegrounds. It leaves another pit in his stomach that he's leaving those three behind to deal with it... Hopefully they'd manage. Maybe if they got lucky, whatever his actual Pivolo had planned would stop whatever the other had brought in, but...

...His hair dot frazzles up when the other prepares to snap his fingers. Pierre's grip on his weapon tightens, as he does his best to brace himself for the impossible.

...

"PIERRE, WHAT'S GOING ON, THERE'S A--"

Rene uncharacteristically burst into the room, only to be met with silence. To say that him and Guga's hearts sank at the same time at the lack of Pierre was... Well. Uh... Walter surely heard the commotion and they'd have to break the... Gut-wrenching news to him, huh. On top of whatever was attacking their beloved city.

[testingrealm]

Complete silence.

A stark contrast to the sounds of chaos just a moment ago.

The room seems barren, just like it appeared to be the first time. Gray and suffocating, just like it had been before. But this time, there's... paint, on the floor. A few thick splotches are loosely gathered around one dark corner of the room, their droplets sprayed outwards as if the fluid had been tossed.

The paint had mostly dried.

Undeniably, that presence is still there. Hiding just out of sight. Taking cover in the dark, where it felt safer. As safe as it could in a stifling space such as this one.

He's curled up on the floor, facing the wall— not that Pierre could see. His breathing is quiet, only audible if you strained to hear it. And, once again, he hasn't moved for many hours.

". . ."

He isn't... really there, right now. He might be physically present, but in every other way...

[emptyzone]

What was going on outside? What had the other done?

His heartbeat quickened when the other looked away, for a moment. Stay. Stay away from them. You're already attacking MY Rupestrine, don't you DARE lay a claw on them. But the attention, of course, always returns to him. Pierre quietly reads out every last word the other 'says', and a scowl properly makes it onto his face, especially at his last statement.

Pierre gradually began to get up.

"Ne parlez pas de créativité." He spat, with an... Almost uncharacteristic amount of venom. "I once again overestimated you. That's all. You could've kept the act up and made me feel like I was going genuinely crazy, but... No. You of course have to take what isn't yours, as you've ALWAYS done... Perhaps I was foolish, but I can admit zat. You never could."

A paintbrush is snatched from his desk, nearby, and it's pointed at the other. He knew no place was safe, anymore. He really did. The anxiety, the paranoia... The other didn't want him to live his life without fearing every second of it would turn into a moment like this. He was TIRED of it. God knows how long Pierrot had to...

...Focus.

"...I was NEVER yours. Never, EVER. In more ways than one! If you think I'm just going to let you have your way, you don't know me. Neither you or the other one is going to leave this scenario unscathed in the long-run."

They just... Can't. It would be a horrific injustice, at this point. Life is unfair. He gets that. He sadly does, but it shouldn't be... This... Unfair.

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...Interesting.

He's getting more fierce. But it certainly came from a place of fear rather than anything else. An animal backed into a corner can either submit to its fate or fruitlessly try to fight for its life.

Pivolo hopes that this Pierre will last longer before giving in and finally choosing the former option.

He doesn't flinch as the paintbrush is pointed at him. He isn't upset by the other's words— no, he's endlessly amused.

An impressive hall with large pillars, arches, and polished tiles. Stretching on until it reached a set of steps at one end, ascending to... 

A short little laugh leaves an invisible mouth. What bravado. Pierre had an impressive amount of nerve, speaking to him like this even when he understood who was in front of him. Even when he understood what he had... accomplished.

But that was just it, wasn't it? He might understand, but he did not do so fully. There were still so many things he could not possibly grasp. He was still, to a degree, clueless.

Pivolo thinks that it's time that he's filled in.

...Really.

Another tremor, stronger than the last. The sound of a robotic roar in the distance.

I see that you haven't fully understood. Even after what I've shown you. You still believe that you can defy your fate... which will only amount to more and more waste the longer you continue to struggle. The sooner you accept what will happen, the better.

His fingers come together. You know what he's about to do. Where you're about to go.

Perhaps... you should take a closer look.

A resounding snap that echoes across timelines.

And an empty room.

[emptyzone]

Pierre was honestly just trying to get some more rest.

Water and food into his system before laying down for a while. He had been tempted to paint something today, but he could save that for another time... All of that was a lot. Wouldn't want himself to get burnt out trying to create from stress alone... At least everyone knew, now. As rough and baffling as the information was. Thousands of questions that would probably go unanswered.

Why me?

He had drifted off for a good moment, before he jolted at the quake. That hair dot over his head switching between '?' and '!' as usual as he sat up, looking out of the small window off to the side before hopping out of bed, and--

--Stopping just short of his tormentor.

The painter's eyes instinctively glance at the other's tail as he holds back a wince, trying to take a few steps back but instead falling straight on his rear as he scrambles backwards, legs kicking as he pushes himself away, keeping shaky eye-contact with the other as he does so.

His heart sinks when he hears as Rene and Guga in the dorm freak out in their own ways to whatever was happening outside from their rooms, but all he could focus on was what was right in front of him.

[testingrealm]

He sees that panicked glance at his tail. A simple action that likely wouldn't have much meaning to most others. But, to him, the meaning was as clear as day: Pierre understood, now. He understood that he was the bigger threat. He knew when to allow true terror to grip his heart— to understand when he was truly in danger.

And that is an understanding he couldn't welcome enough.

The building shudders, again. He hears the distant sound of something collapsing. Sounds of panic from outside.

He hears their voices, as well.

Pivolo turns his head. Again, purposefully. His eyes look away from Pierre, towards the sound of the dorm's other occupants.

As if

contemplating.

But he wasn't, of course.

His eyes return to the terrified painter, on his hands and knees. This was a sight he was eager to get used to once again.

You finally figured it out.

A simple statement that held an impossible amount of weight. Pivolo takes a few steps away from the door, getting closer. He takes in the other's fear as if it were fuel to an ever-ravenous fire.

I knew that you would understand in time, Pierre. However... I must admit that it took you longer than I expected.

A pause. A tilt of his head.

Perhaps… you are not as creative as you think you are.

[testingrealm]

@emptyzone (pierre)

It's working just as well as he thought. Pivolo watches with nothing but satisfaction as the massive Ovenmaster advances upon City Hall, swatting away his duplicate's minions as if they were nothing but powerless flies.

However, his goal wasn't to destroy Rupestrine— or his duplicate. It was all meant as a distraction. Just to keep his attention elsewhere. It would be terribly rude of him to interrupt while he was busy with Pierre, after all.

The painter's room still shakes, even with the source of commotion being some distance away. Any attempt to investigate that commotion would swiftly come to an end before it could ever begin. Because...

Pivolo has appeared in the doorway. The artcreature is very purposefully blocking the only exit. Even if Pierre did have the opportunity to run, there would be no escape. There was and never would be any escape.

He just wants his position to clearly illustrate that fact.

[testingrealm]

fun fact. pookie

[testingrealm]

He has more preparations to do.

While it was certainly appreciated that Pivolo no longer had to worry about being associated with his duplicate, there were certain consequences to having his presence made known. Namely, that he would be on higher alert. His duplicate’s minions and followers were now aware of him. The last thing he’s worried about is potentially being attacked by such pitiful creatures, but… they would certainly rat him out if they caught sight of him. And it would certainly be noticed when Pierre went missing again, no matter how subtle he might try to be.

Which is precisely why he needs to create a suitable distraction.

Pivolo has teleported to an open area outside of Rupestrine. He would need a very large amount of space for what he was about to create. He sighs quietly, placing that bubble blower in his mouth—

...He pauses for a moment as a memory tries to surface.

He does not let it.

He needs to focus.

The artcreature raises both of his hands. His eyes narrow. Power concentrates. His arms tremble, just a bit, then

THUD.

A miniature earthquake that could be felt for miles shakes the ground as an absolutely gargantuan creature manifests in the air and lands on the grass below. Metal creaks and groans as the beast moves. The sound echoes, unsettling and undeniably unnatural.

“. . .”

Pivolo looks up at the creature, his hands neatly behind his back. The creature’s large square eyes stare back. It bends down to look at him, a loud, low creaaaaak emanating from its body as it does so.

Pivolo does not flinch. Instead, he smiles.

Yes. Yes, this would do perfectly. There was no doubt in his mind.

He would be free to take Pierre as he pleased, while that foolish imbecile buckled under the immense power of a beast only a god could create.

[testingrealm]

How long had he been unconscious for...? He could never be sure. But nausea greets him as he awakens, as it always did. He, at the very least, didn't feel hungry anymore, but...

A hand gingerly feels at his throat, recalling the sensation of claws burrowing inside. Pierrot grimaces— he swallows, and he lets out a quiet groan as it stings.

His mind feels a bit clearer than it did the previous day. It wanders to him, as it now typically did when it functioned well enough to do so. Longing quickly wells up inside of him— the feeling had become less and less restrained. More desperate, the more he thought about his other self.

Unconsciously, his hand moves to his arm. His fingers twitch as they grasp it.

Truly, it was eating at him. He wanted— no, needed— to see him again. He craved that grounding force more than anything, right now.

His fingers curl, digging in hard. The grimace on his face deepens, showing teeth. He still isn't conscious of it.

But would he ever get that, again? Why was he assuming that he would see Pierre again when he couldn't possibly know? He's spent long enough being tormented to here to know that Pivolo would never give him anything that he wanted. If he was smart, he'd understand that he would never see Pierre again. And he would never get his answers. He's never gotten answers. Why did he think that he would? It was always pain. Pain for no reason at all. Suffering for no reason at all. There was never any explanation. Just hurt. Hurting. It hurts. It hurts it hurts that hurts ow ow OW—

A pained hiss is forced through his teeth as he feels it. It's intense. He doesn't understand, at first. But then, he looks down, and...

...he's holding a large glob of paint in his hand. It oozes between his fingers, partly merging with them. A chunk is missing from his arm.

His breathing is fast and light. He swallows, again. It stings. His hand trembles as he replaces the missing chunk. It melds with the rest of his arm again after a few moments.

". . ."

...He needs to learn how to accept. To accept the fact that they were gone, no matter how much he needed them.

But he's never been very good at that.

[testingrealm]

You're... Going to get humbled one day, Pivolo. Badly. If not by your other self, by someone else. You know this, right?

A chuckle. A wide smile. He's clearly not in the mood to take such words seriously— if he ever would at all.

I don't seem to recall hiring a jester. But your material shows promise. Feel free to continue practicing.

...is this the first time he hasn't immediately sent someone to be burned alive...?

[testingrealm]

What a complete and utter IDIOT.

Pivolo breaks out into laughter for the second time. This was too rich. Finally being able to tell that fool to his face how incompetent he was... he's waited far too long for this moment.

And that reaction. It was priceless. Throwing his phone across the room, barely able to contain his anger...

He chuckles darkly. He just can't help himself. It was incredibly entertaining— 'underestimating me will be your downfall.' How laughable.

If anything, he hasn't been underestimating his duplicate enough.

[testingrealm]

No matter how hard they worked, there was still more to be done.

It was impossible to finish, of course. They knew that. Dreams were not finite, just as the amount of alternate universes and timelines were not. It was not a feasible task to tend to all of them, to cleanse each and every cloud of nightmares and darkness.

But, they still had to try. They had to do as much as they could, especially with that machine making things harder than ever.

Sleepyhead has been drawn to this section of Dreamspace by a troubling energy. It grew steadily the closer they got. If they’re feeling what they think they are, then…

…they haven’t seen this in a long, long time.

They continue, their cape billowing behind them as they flew past endless gatherings of clouds. Glittering stars are left in their wake. Their brow furrows as they home in on the source of the energy, increasing their speed.

When they finally reach it, an involuntary gasp leaves them. What they’re looking at isn’t a cloud at all, but…

…a glob of black, dripping ooze, floating in space. They watch in horror as a drop of the substance falls onto a cloud below, which had been turned almost pitch black in color. It was spreading.

This… wasn’t a simple nightmare. It was something much more than that. It was miasma. Something that made it far too dangerous to even attempt entering the owner’s mind. Even for them— an individual who was arguably the most skilled Dreamer in existence.

If they went in now… there was a very good chance that they would not come back out.

They needed to cleanse it, first.

Four hands carefully reach out from beneath their cloak. Stars sparkle beneath their fingertips, and a warm light surrounds the blob of ooze. They quietly mutter an incantation, and it retreats, just slightly. The dripping stops. Sleepyhead takes their hands away, but the warm light remains, containing the dark substance in a shining veil.

It would take some time for their magic to do its work. They would need to do more once they were able to enter the individual’s mind. And they would need to mark this section of Dreamspace to ensure that they could return.

Gently, Sleepyhead pinches the star on their cheek between two fingers. They pull it off— a new one takes its place. They release the star to the air, and after a moment, it grows in size and begins to shine.

They’ve done as much as they can for now, but…

…they can’t help but stare for a little while longer.

Just what had caused this one’s mind to enter such a state?

[testingrealm]

"...somethin', somethin'... I'm not 'on the braincell' anymore?"

"Oh, thank GOD. It's about damn time. Let that goopy guy have his turn on the nexus. Don't care if I deserved it more. I need a break for a couple years."

[testingrealm]

also yes. spaced on pointing it out for a bit but. new icon

[testingrealm]

cannot believe me writing cedric from oneshot was FIVE YEARS AGO

[testingrealm]

thinking that. despite the fact that lost scientist is absolutely the more timid one of the two it can still be quite scary-looking. i only decided this recently but i think it is Quite tall and it probably has to bend down a bit to get through doorways. it is the exact sort of thing you DON'T want to see standing at the end of a long dark hallway,