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“Honestly, I’m not sure why Kris would even want that old piece of junk around in the first place. A broken television isn’t like a deck of cards or a puzzle; those don’t go out of date. But he was already old news before most of us even existed.”
Tenna hurried out of the cafe before the gossiping Darkners could notice he was there.
He knew that they just wanted the Lightners to value them, he knew that his recent infamy made him the talk of the town (and not necessarily in a good way). He knew that their words were meant to comfort themselves and not hurt him in the same way he knew that their words hurt.
Tenna crashed into someone, fumbling through an apology as he arrived back on the street. It felt like everyone was staring at him. Their eyes tore through his screen and into his wiring, judging every out of date feature and lack of function. Ralsei swore no one thought of him that way, but he knew that wasn’t true. The townsfolk confirmed that with every sideways glance and hushed whisper.
And could he blame them? He slumped against a wall, hidden from the view of the leering masses. His hands grasped for his antennae, tugging them in the desperate hope that it would provide him some comfort. (Just another weird habit, another thing that made him broken and wrong and-)
If he was a newer television, he wouldn’t have antennae, and his screen wouldn’t blur as he held back tears. He would lose the ability to be sad, to be him , but clearly that would make everyone happy. To have a sleek flatscreen showing new programs and accessing “applications”, whatever those were.
But he couldn’t change who he was. Not only was he trapped as the same miserable, needy creature he always had been, he was also stuck as a CRT forever. He couldn’t make himself more lovable no matter what. If anyone said they loved TV around him, it would be obvious they meant other TVs. The better ones. The ones that weren’t damaged and clingy and didn’t hurt the person they loved-
“Greetings, what art thou doing in mine Alleyway?”
Tenna snapped to attention at the voice, attempting to maintain enough composure to ask what the person meant, but he was frozen as he recognized them.
“Rules Card?”
The man in question furrowed his brow, smirk melting off of his face to reveal a scowl.
“Thou art mistaken, Sir Tenna. I am Rouxls Kaard, the Duke of Puzzles.” Tenna attempted to interrupt, because that’s what he said? But Rouxls continued. “Nonetheless, that isn’t-eth why I’m here-st. Thou art in mine Alleyway of Puzzles looking miserable, and I’d prefer-est that thou wouldst not.”
“O-oh, I’m terribly sorry.” Tenna forced himself into a crouching position, ready to go cry in a different alley. As he stood, however, Rouxls’ expression grew annoyed again, and he found himself gracelessly pushed back to the ground.
“That… is not what I meant.” Tenna watched in confusion as Rouxls pulled out a puzzle block from his inventory, set it on the ground next to Tenna, and sat on it primly. “Now, spill thine secrets so that we may both-st be on our way.”
Tenna stared, all misery momentarily forgotten as he looked upon the man who tried to date his second-in-commands for power.
“I’m sorry?”
Rouxls crossed his arms. His expression seemed distinctly displeased, like when a quiz question was too hard and no one got it right. Kris would look like that as they argued with Asriel and-
“Good. Thou should be. I am offering-st mine royal-grade advice, and thou art gawking like a stuffed pig.” ( What? ) “I am attempting-eth to prevent thou from sobbing in every alley in town-st. Do not worry about vocalizing thine gratitude. I know, I am The Best.”
“It’s really nothing you need to worry about. Really! It’s just a passing bit of melodrama and then I’ll-”
Rouxls’ unimpressed stare stopped him in his tracks.
“Okay, so maybe I’ve been a bit down since my last broadcast! There’s nothing wrong with feeling a little glooby sometimes! And maybe everyone in town thinks I’m weird and dangerous and obsolete and terrible. Maybe I do have feelings and they can be hurt when I’m used as a cautionary tale or… or seen as worse because I’m not as timeless as the other Darkners.
“And, you know what? Maybe I’m tired , tired of being alone, tired of everyone leaving and forgetting about me and acting like I should just fade into obscurity like the useless hunk of junk I am. ”
Tenna hadn’t realized how much he needed to let it all out, even if he’d feel embarrassed about doing it in front of a veritable stranger later. Right now, the words wouldn’t stop and his screen wanted to fade to static and he just kept going.
“And every time I think about making a new name for myself, I’m dragged down by reruns. Everyone wants something new from me, but no one wants me to change. They want me to be interesting, new, exciting, but they don’t want me to broadcast anything but who I was . Who they want me to be . Because no one wants the broken CRT that can only play local channels. They want something bigger, better. Something worthwhile. And if Toriel won’t buy a new TV, then they have to suffer through spending time with me. ”
Years of self-hatred washed over him as he once again was reminded of his choices: stay the out of date host of TV Time or become something unrecognizable. And what kinds of choices were those?
A hand on his shoulders dragged him out of his spiral as he looked back up to gaze at Rouxls.
“Wow. That’s rough-st.” Rouxls paused before his next words, using the brief lull to awkwardly pat Tenna on the back. “Well-st, at least thou aren’t a brilliant-eth puzzle master referred to by many solely as ‘Lesser Dad’. And thou company is nay too terrible, even when thou art ‘glooby’.
Tenna attempted a wobbly smile.
“Thanks, Mr Kaard. I… appreciate you listening to all that.”
Rouxls nodded, his typical smirk returning to his face.
“Yes, and though I am not-st prepared-eth to unpack all that , I can say that thou company is not… terrible-eth. And if you were-st interested in joining me in testing puzzles, I would not… object-eth to it.”
Tenna tried to speak up as Rouxls stood up. He wanted to say he was grateful that the puzzle expert hadn’t forced him to talk about everything in all their painful details. He wanted to say that he was thankful for the offer to spend time with him, even if under the guise of “helping with puzzles”. As Rouxls packed away his belongings, Tenna opened his mouth, hoping to say that it was refreshing to have someone acknowledge his feelings and listen to him, especially a borderline stranger who certainly had better things to do, but he froze.
“I’m afraid I am terribly busy. My puzzles don’t create-eth themselves. In the meantime, thou should-st visit the cafe. Thine friend Susie is there.”
Rouxls then sprinted out of the alley, not looking back once. If Tenna was feeling speculative, it almost seemed like the man was embarrassed.
Either way, Tenna forced himself to get off the ground and dusted himself off. Slowly but surely, he began the walk to the cafe. It would be nice to spend time with his friends.
(More notably, it was nice to be seen for himself, faults and all, and still be loved.)