Work Text:
He raises his hands to trace along the keys of the keyboard propped up against the large display screen, a fleeting sensation of satisfaction as he relishes the accomplishment of finishing another world, his brain burning from what crumble of creativity he had left now down in the new world he had crafted, according to the rather dashing tastes of his…superior?
Actually, no, he’ll just continue to call her “Timekeeper”.
Data saves the file, as he was navigating to his to-do list to tick it off, and unfortunately was met with a giant wall of responsibilities to block him from the rest that he craves.
“Should I get this done now?” He mulls over the second item up next: cleaning up the code of the world with the exorcists.
(And ignores the smaller text font at the bottom, which documents an additional task to patch up the way Sil was able to get out of their universe to the one next door.)
He contemplates his choices, before he shrugs, the tire from the worldbuilding successfully swaying him. “Meh, I’ll just leave this to Assistant. For now, I need to find TK.”
Data steps out of his area, and back to the centre of the cluster of worlds that formed their home. He looks around, searching for a flash of a golden braid, a floating pocketwatch or an angled black tophat.
Nothing.
He sighs. She’s probably off next door, under the trees of mint mixed with dangling citrus fruit, reading stories that aren’t hers. Not that Data minds, as long as that man nor his late-AI superior doesn’t touch a hair on her skull, he’ll be perfectly fine with this arrangement.
That is, if TK wasn’t a fan of running off at the most inconvenient of times.
He wonders what his partner-in-crime sees in the chaotic universe before he decides to leave the conflict and turmoil for later.
Sending Assistant a text to notify of his brief leave, he proceeds to the edge of Tatverse, the worlds growing more sparse as he neared the border, the world warps, pulls, then fades around him as he walked onward, until he finds a forest of minty green trees standing in the distance, the sight now as familiar of an environment as their own universe (considering the amount of times he came around to fetch a certain runaway friend…).
As he pulls himself through the thick foliage and onto the cleared pathway to Citrusverse’s Athavale, he wonders what TK was doing now.
“I hope you didn’t get into any trouble this time. Cleaning up your mess is a hassle, especially with the border guard around.” Data wanders along the path, ambling through an uncleared bush that stood in his way with awkwardness, the branches poking at his legs.. “Seriously, why can’t she just never come back to this…warzone?”
But Data knew and is too embarrassed to admit that even if the Timekeeper pranced into the heat of conflict, he would definitely come and get her, no matter the cost.
…Unless it was something he couldn’t handle. Data sighs to himself, missing the feeling of his soft beanbag chair and the cold glow of his PC in his dark room as he trudges into the forest.
The Timekeeper bounds around Wdsg, her bright yellow accents on her monochromatic-themed clothing separating her from the solely black-white inhabitants of its objectified purgatory. She watches with a certain sense of twisted amusement as the clock and the ancient machine dance around eachother, evading with white lies and alike, the plot twisting and spinning like a chaotic rushing waltz before unravelling into a grand show, a magnifique work of art.
She dips her head, spinning her pen between her fingers before setting it to the notepad she cradled in her arm, writing in looping handwriting and noting down fleeting ideas that flowed through her mind like rushing water.
The curtains fall as the computer falls motionless to the floor for the last time with a resounding crack of glass, and the clock departs.
The eyewitness to the drama resists applauding, lest the Author, the Poet or the Author’s
loyal right-hand man catches her in the sneaking act. Humming a loose tune, she exits the AU, the empty void of its purgatory (thankfully) vanishing to the space outside. TK gazed down at her notepad again, glazing with a critical eye over her near-incomprehensible penmanship. She groans, her face finding home in the palms of her hands.”Still nothing good , nothing of real substance .” She wails, now fully in a writer’s craze. “What should I do?!”
TK floats aimlessly in the empty space, not really (and thankfully) paying attention to the endless expanse of the universe before her. Sticking her bottom lip out in form of a pout, an ill-concealed grumble followed with her speaking to the floor. “This is bad…Data would come to get me and execute me in the town square!” TK wills her pocketwatch that acted as a mode of transport to manifest under her, grasping at the length of the golden chain as she falls back onto it lightly. “He’ll then drown me, marinate me in barbeque sauce, feed me to the tigers, bloody, maybe he would even bring back Zach just to spite me…” Her whitened knuckles gripped at the chain, the metal digging into her soft hands. “Maybe he’ll even go to another universe just to beat me up in public!” She lets go of the chain, flopping onto the surface of the large hovering pocketwatch in frustration.
Wait.
TK scrambles to get up, now broken out from her short-lived rumination.
“Other…universe…”
The corners of her lips curve up into a grin.
“Why didn’t I think about it earlier?” She laughs to herself. “I could just head to the Citrusverse for ideas again! Ooh, maybe go meet Laverne again, that’d be sublime!” TK sits up properly on the edge of the watch, with fire anew. “I can get back to Data later, he wouldn’t mind a slight delay.” She then forms a portal with a flick of the wrist, and zooms through. “God, I’m so brilliantly intelligent…”
What she came to was definitely not her intended destination though, because she found herself face-to-face with a triangular-headed man, resemblant of a character in Wdsg (Mr Nubella, was it?), though one thing to differentiate them both would just be the…extremely snatched physique.
“Oops, wrong world!” She nervously conjures up another portal and backs out with haste, only to find herself–
–face to face with literal strippers .
“Oh god, what in the heavens is this?” TK quickly flaps her arm to summon another portal, and throws herself through.
In which she is finally met with crashing straight onto someone .
“Ow.” TK spits out through the pain in her back.
“Shit- that was a very unceremonious landing, TK.”
“Heh?” TK is then pushed off and meets the floor again. “God, owie! That hurt, you know?”
“My old man spine is about to crack if you do that again.” Oh, it’s H-Tristan. (The story, TK!)
Oops.
“Oh, my utmost apologies!” TK scrambles to get up, smoothing out her garments as her face burned with embarrassment. “Didn’t notice you.”
“It’s fine.” Tristan simply readjusts his top hat. “Still, not everyday you see the elegant Timekeeper come careening out of a portal and crashing onto someone in the process.”
“If that was your idea of an insult to one’s dignity, then you are truly horrible at such a matter!” TK points a finger.
“Don’t really care. Anyways, if you’re gonna stroll around again, go for it. Though if Data comes to get you again, be at least a little thankful I’ll be a little too busy to tell you where you exactly are.” Tristan turns to walk away, and TK moves to stop him. “Alt Laverne is in Athavale with Paperman, if you were about to ask.”
TK stops in her tracks and returns to her previous spot. “Uh, thanks.”
Tristan chuckles as he leaves somewhere, and TK lets out a huff that she hopes he didn’t hear .
“Bumbling bastard…” TK grouches, and leaves for Athavale, yet upon the reminder she was going to meet her dear friend again, the annoyance melts away to excitement in an instant.
“Alright,” TK smiles, as bright as the hallways that laid before her. “--time to get to work.”
Sil seats himself on the couch, along with literally everyone else. He was confused, but nevertheless, everyone was sitting on the couch, the L-shape surrounding a tea table in the middle. He follows Rae’s line of gaze towards the door, and realizes everyone was pinning down the door, except Bory, who was snoozing on the couch.
They were expecting someone.
Sil was confused, but the serious atmosphere kept his lips drawn into a tight line. What was happening? What had happened? Why is literally everyone here? Even Citrus was here!
He snuck a glance at the librarian, seated next to Simon, also staring at the door.
Did something bad happen?
He gulps.
The door swings open after what seemed to be a millenia to reveal Tristan, his brows knit and mouth drawn in a thoughtful silence. He looks up to meet everyone’s gazes. “I see everyone’s on time?”
A sigh from Rae breaks the silence. “Yes Tristan. Now what’s this important matter you were telling us to meet here about?”
Important matter?
“You see,” Tristan kicks off his sneakers, and Sil shuffles in his seat. “We are in a bit of a jiffy…with the Timekeeper.”
TK?! Sil’s eyes widened, his breath caught in his throat.
Tristan seems to notice his surprise and reiterates quickly. “ Our Timekeeper, not the sovereign of Tatverse. Though, this matter does involve her.”
Was this about the fight that they had when our Timekeeper found her presence in CV trying to read into the…code? Sil’s gaze diverts to Simon, who spoke up right after. “Did Lexi refuse to let TK go even if we technically bribed them?”
“BRIBED?!” Sil keeps his mouth shut.
“Unfortunately.” Tristan hisses, seating himself next to Citrus, earning a glare from Simon. “But, we got bad news and good news. Which first, ladies and gentlemen?”
“Bad news.” Euterpe, Rae, Simon, and Suni simultaneously spoke, before Suni side-eyes Simon.
“...Uh, maybe the good news first?” Sil whispers.
“Yeah, good news first!” Bory somehow awakens from her sleep in that singular moment, and jumps up from her spot, earning a sigh from Citrus.
“Well, good news is TK is currently not dead.” Tristan folds his arms, leaning back. “Bad news, Lexi will be off to dispose of her if we can’t stop her in approximately 3 hours.” He pauses, Sil watching as he swept his gaze over all of them. “Anyone don’t understand the implications?”
“Ooh, no, this is bad!” Sil kneads his thumbs into his shirt. “Actually, maybe letting Lexi kill her isn’t so bad…”
“Try not to have another universe wage war upon us, got it.” Rae nods. “Let's be quick, then.”
Citrus pipes up. “Mnemosyne, aren’t you the god Lexi serves for? Can’t you…I dunno, stop them?”
Suni sighs. “Lexi isn’t the guy who would listen to me just because I’m his god.”
Citrus buries his head in his cape, and Simon stifles a groan. Euterpe spoke, the nighters and the troubledness evident in his voice. “If we fuck this up, god knows what Data is going to whip up.”
Sil is this close to running and crying in a corner.
Tristan’s stony frown is replaced with a lax grin. “Great, I think everyone gets the drift. C’mon everyone, let's get going!” He motions to Euterpe, Sil, Citrus and Simon. “You four, come with me.” He turns to the dissipating group. “Rae, tend to Bory and go over our physical arsenal with Suni.”
Mumbles of affirmation came from all of them as Sil moves with the group to the other end of the hallway– the staircase to the roof.
“So, what we’re gonna do isn’t to map the environment, we already remember where everything is, except Sil, of course.” Sil shrinks. “Aw, no, not your fault, I never really had the time to show you around since you showed up anyways.” Tristan continued. “What we’re gonna do is just to predict how Lexi is going to strike. They have a big enough magic signature anyways.” Sil enters the rooftop workshop, or what they called a large tent pinned to the roof, he eyes the calculators and the pile of clean office paper on the foldable table that sat in the middle of the tent.
The group crowds around the table, and in no time, paper and pens were being thrown around. Sil, sorting some of the papers that fluttered to the floor over the discussion, as he reapproached the table, a hand stops him in his tracks.
Euterpe (oddly) approaches him, Tristan tailing him. “Sil, can you handle a little of the calculation checking? It’s okay if you don’t and just sort the papers.”
“Should I?” Sil nervously thinks to himself. “But I might mess up everything,Hrrngh…” He debates it over a little bit more, before arriving at a conclusion.
“...I’ll try.”
Tristan smiles. “Thank you then. Your maths is sharper than anyone in this room anyways.”
Simon hisses, Citrus simply gives a thumbs up and Euterpe agrees with a hum.
The group sets to work, and oddly enough, even if he hated having to work on something so extra, it felt...nice to be working at something he was good at, analyzing the plans and providing some opinions.
Opinions that were heard.
Maybe it was also the mug of coffee offered by Bory when she came racing in, or the affirming encouragement he got when he corrected the possibilities of one particular hallway, or even the fact he was offered the choice to not support Citrus and Simon at the comms as the rest of them went out onto the field and go take Bory out to get the groceries.
Maybe that's why he didn’t think twice when he took the seat in front of the frankly impressive setup Euterpe had in the storage room, Bory seated right next to him on a spinny stool.
Yeah, if this was the friends he could have if he left the safe comfort of his own home, he would let himself be taken by Bory to the forest of mint green trees a thousand times over.
It’s been so long since she saw a way.
She’s been longing to fix everything, fix the universe she belonged to.
It was all wrong, she used to have the means to correct it.
But she lost her power a very long time ago, but now, she saw a way to fix it all.
She grazes her hand over an image of a woman, considerably short, dressed in an elegant fashion one could call reminiscent of old European style, a tophat rests on her head, and underneath that, golden locks tied into a braid by white ribbons.
This woman had what she needed.
This woman…Timekeeper, the god of the universe her world belonged to.
Energetic, bubbly, powerful, gullible .
It wasn’t the RESET button, sure, but her powers were similar, enough to do what she needed to.
To reshape a world to perfection .
She grins, scrunching up the image in her palm, letting it fall to the floor as her eyes snap above, towards the darkening sky.
“Tell me, Chara…is it possible to bring down a god?”
Cackling at the obvious reality, she replies to the howling wind. “Let’s find out, shall we? Not that you can answer me being dead anyways.”
CF Frisk strides on to the surface, tearing apart code at its seams, filled with determination.