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“I can’t do this anymore!”
Etho stamps his foot on the ground, ignoring how it echoes around the dungeon that he’s supposed to be quiet in, probably catching the attention of the ravagers that he most definitely doesn’t want to notice him.
He threads his hands into his hair and pulls, crouching down on the ground with a frustrated scream.
Listen, Etho loves Decked Out, and he loves Tango, and he would happily spend the whole season here without pause. But that’s when everything’s going right and he’s on a winning streak.
Today, he is not on a winning streak.
Everything, quite literally everything, has been going wrong, and he’s so done with that.
His comms start buzzing and he’s very tempted to hang up and ignore it, but before he can, the call goes through anyways.
“Etho, hey- what was that? What’s going on?”
Fuck. He saw that.
Of course he was watching Etho’s run. He’d forgotten that Tango had told him that he’d be running maintenance and surveilling, so he’d be monitoring periodically. So of course this had to be the day that Etho’s wits finally snapped.
“Dude, if you don’t talk to me, I’m going to have to come in there,” Tango calls over comms, but he doesn’t mean it as a threat. He never does. There’s only genuine concern in his voice; Tango loves that the others love Decked Out, but he never wants it to lead to pain.
He doesn’t know how long it was, but seemingly between blinks, Tango was magically in front of him.
“Etho, hey, there you are…” he muttered as Etho’s eyes refocused, meeting his concerned gaze before quickly looking away again.
“Sorry,” Etho whispers, leaning into the hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t apologize, you’re not in trouble. You never are, you’re too good for that,” Tango teases, patting his arm and attempting a smile. “I’m just worried about you, buddy, you’re usually a lot more… even-tempered.”
The Canadian nods, humming noncommittally. It’s true, he’s usually incredibly calm, even if inwardly he’s upset or stressed. He’s never been one to “crash out”, as the others would call it.
“I didn’t mean to throw a fit,” he whines, studying the stone floor below him.
“I wouldn’t call that a ‘fit’, Etho, you just got a little frustrated and then just shut down. I was trying to talk to you, but you didn’t give me a sign of life.”
Etho doesn’t look up, but hums again, giving another non-answer.
“You’ve been here for hours today, Etho,” Tango continues, gently guiding Etho’s hands out of his hair. “You haven’t taken a single break, your reaction was totally expected. I’m not happy about it, though, especially since it’s so unlike you. What’s different today, why are you pushing yourself like this?”
Etho bites his lip.
“I’m not doing well today. I mean, have you seen my scores? My shortest run was 17 seconds, and that’s not because I won, it’s because I basically waltzed right into a Ravager the second I landed! My longest run was nearly two whole hours because it’s like the artifacts just wouldn’t spawn in! Every single time I start a run, it fails spectacularly. You’re right, it’s not like me.”
He sighs, shutting his eyes.
“...I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Before he can stop it, tears are soaking the edge of his mask.
Now he’s really not himself. So much so that Tango is rendered completely speechless for a solid minute, just gaping. Etho doesn’t cry, he never cries! Much less over a stupid mini-game that no one even has to participate in. He knows his limits, and he’s usually so good at heeding them, so it makes it shocking just how different today is.
Tango looks at him for a long moment, sympathetic sadness in his eyes.
“Etho, there’s nothing wrong with you,” he whispers. “I promise, there’s nothing wrong with you. The game isn’t working right at the moment, I told you I’d be running diagnostics today, remember?” He continues. “I’m not telling you this to placate you, I’m being honest; the game isn’t running as it should, so it’s messing with your runs.”
He stands up, holding out a hand to the other.
“Come on, you’re done for the day. I’m shutting the game down until it’s fixed, it can’t stay open if it’s causing this much distress. Let’s get you home, buddy.”
Tango doesn’t accept any protest Etho could’ve uttered, dragging him (gently) towards the open emergency exit.