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“I hadn’t expected you to be here again,” Grian said.
“I hadn’t expected your team to win either.” Dream paused, glanced over his shoulder. But of course, there was no one.
“My win was a long time coming. I earned this.” It’s a testy tone Grian used, wound like a redstone door caught mid-fire.
To his mild surprise, Dream inclined his head.
“I know. I was cheering for you in the stands.”
It seemed they’re both caught suddenly aware of the darkening night. The Championship was over - the lobby mostly deserted save for a few admins doing clean-up. Grian and Dream had all expressed their musings and congratulations already, to their teams and friends and acquainted circles.
They were, indeed, the only ones left of this world - the only ones left that would intrude upon the conversation, to be more precise.
If there even was a conversation to be had.
Grian’s eyes flicked to the rankings room, where down numerous leg-breaking staircases, there lay the portals - one of which would take him back to Hermitcraft, and one of which would take Dream back to the Dream SMP.
“Thanks,” he said finally. “For the support. I appreciate it.”
Dream shrugged. “You definitely deserved it after everything. It would have been painful to see Illumina deny you victory a third time, to be honest.” Something wistful crossed his expression at that - a brief yearning for life lost, a connection severed at his own doing.
Grian watched intently, for a moment, but decided deep introspection was not on his list of things to do tonight; his body was still heaving with the phantom sweat of that final arrow. Instead he nodded to Dream, and turned towards a burger stand in the nearby corner. No one’s operating it anymore, but there were still a few foil-wrapped burgers. They’re softly warm to touch.
<falsesymmetry> ~~~> <Grian> where are you?
Grian unwrapped and took a bite out of a burger. Beef patty, slightly juicy, bun the texture of sweet wool fluff. Lettuce. Thin slice of baked potato, for some reason, not that he’s complaining about it. It’s good.
<Grian> ~~~> <falsesymmetry> still hanging out in mcc lobby. eating a burger. will be back soon, dont worry
<falsesymmetry> ~~~> <Grian> alright enjoy yourself :D
When he looked up, Dream was taking bites out of a burger as well, leaned against the stall. It’s odd, how he eats - tiny nibbles, almost, but slowly, jitteringly methodical. And yet Grian could find no pattern to the consumption.
He said as much to Dream, who laughed in response.
“Old habits,” he said, not wishing to elaborate much further. “Or current ones, depending on how you look at it.”
“I don’t look much beyond Hermitcraft nowadays,” Grian said. There’s inkling to their last proper conversation, where accusations were hurled and wounds torn wide open. But they were both different people now; Dream after suffering long in a demise of his own design, and Grian, after tasting the danger of true power struggle in a world where lives were limited to threes.
It usually seemed to come back to threes.
“I don’t know what’s been going on in your server lately,” Grian said, almost idly. “I just know it’s not been good. For you, and others.”
“No,” Dream said. “It’s not been good. You’re right on that.”
Grian hummed, nodded his head. “Why let it continue, then?”
There’s an acute pause. And then-
“Did you know I’m not server admin anymore?”
And well. Grian was certainly surprised by that revelation, though perhaps not as much as he should have been. There were only so many ways it could have continued as it had been for so long, if any of the rumors he’d picked up on held any fact.
“They stripped it out of you?” he asked. It’s rare players are able to do that but with a bit of backhand code messing and the support of another admin…
Dream shook his head. “No one there could have. I gave it up willingly. After… a while.”
Grian tilted his head. “Why?”
There’s a stare, but not towards him. Dream directed it to the lights above, still shining, a beacon to the Orange Ocelot’s victory.
“There wasn’t any point,” he said finally. “Any changes I could have made with it… everyone would have opposed it anyways. And they were harsher when they knew what I could do. Callahan never received that kind of hatred, but he never meddled in anyone’s business either.”
Grian swallowed another bite of his burger. The potato layer really was genius, he thought faintly. He should try that on his own burgers some time.
“Sometimes we can’t help but meddle,” he says. “I think I came across too heavily last time.”
Dream laughed again, the sound like shattered bells. “You are far from the worst transgressor, Grian. I think we can both acknowledge that much.”
“Still.” Grian paused. “Why would you stay anyways, though? Whatever’s going on in your world, I know it’s terrible for you. You could pick any other world to hop over and avoid all that.” He couldn’t help the wink that wormed its way into his expression. “If you promise some loyalty, I could even sneak you into the next 3rd Life world.”
Dream didn’t bait himself with the joke. Instead he nibbled on his burger again - it’s barely a fourth of the way eaten, Grian noted, swallowing the last bite of his own.
“What do you think about attachments?” he asked finally - and, wasn’t that just an odd question?
“They… exist,” Grian said, shrugging. “Kind of unavoidable. If you’re not attached to anything, why live? Even if it’s just your own life.”
Dream exhaled, minutely. “Right.”
Grian regarded him with a glittering sort of gaze. Dream wasn’t fazed by it, or at least nowhere near as much as he had been last time. It’s been too long - too much. To him, Quackity’s gleam held far more promise. This was… safer, in way. He thought he might, in fact, prefer it.
“But. Even beyond life,” Grian continued, “there’s always more to live for, right? Friends, experiences-” he stopped, and then grinned. “Power.”
Dream didn’t wince, though he thought he probably should have. It would have been the proper thing to do, the proper reaction. He’s not quite sure on that, though - the prison had taken much of what he formerly assumed to be concrete states of mind. Immovable characteristics for immovable effects.
Nothing was immovable, really.
“I think,” he said finally, “that the Dream SMP - I can’t let go of it. Not now, anyways.”
Grian bunched his wrapper. Tossed it in the trash bin nearby. “There’s worse fates to be entwined with than your own server’s.”
“You think?” The thought seemed so impossible, after everything in the prison. MCC had been his only respite - all the old grudges and anger falls away in the face of implacable moderation. They were all new people, in this other world - sometimes it seemed as though their other lives didn’t exist.
The others forget easily. Old memories pass as though swept away by Lethe. It’s a strange mechanism the admins have implanted - and Dream seemed one of the few unaffected by it. He took the chance when he could - small mercies were precious to him nowadays.
Grian shrugged again. “You still can’t deny that you dug your own grave on this one, even if people shouldn’t be filling it with dirt afterwards. But like I said - the option to leave is always there.”
If he left, for real, Callahan would ban him from ever returning again. Dream wasn’t sure, even now, if that is worth escaping Quackity’s torture. Worth escaping the prison. The clock ticks away inside of him with each dragging second.
Another ding. Grian glanced at his communicator.
“Well, I best be going,” he said. “You, uh-”
Dream stared down at his burger. It’s cold now, without the foil wrapper’s protection, and only a third of the way eaten.
“Go ahead,” he said. “Back to Hermitcraft. If you want, I guess. I’ll go after I’m done eating.”
His next bite was even smaller than before.
Grian gave one nod, slowly, an expression of almost-pity - not that Dream could decipher it - as he sweeps away and heads for the portals.
After he was out of sight, Dream sat down on the grass, cold and dewy, and leaned himself beside the burger stall's sheet-draped side. He took another nibble.
And then another. Nip. Nip. Drip. Drip. It’s easy to establish a pattern.
He’s gone by the next sunrise, though not too long before.