Chapter Text
This world is a hell.
People get hurt, people live, and.. people die. Obviously.
Now, a certain brown haired child named Clover knows this very well. Grief followed him throughout their short life. So, it's no wonder this little artist got a kick to the gut by, well, dying.
Normally, most people's last thoughts would be questioning why this happened to them. Why them of all people? Who would take care of their family?
This one though?
Ah, well. All she could think was: "Dayum. I really don't live up to my name.. ..Gah.. who's gonna finish Oblivion? Maybe Luci and Kai'll work on it finally. That'd be sick."
The teenager inhaled sharply. "I'll miss my friends. My family. ..I hope.. I hope their lives are better without me."
And it all went black.
Clover did NOT expect to wake up. "Guh.. whuh. Huh..?" He groaned, sitting up. They felt like they were in a void. Or something similar. There were no smells, no sound, nothing to touch. Just whiteness.
"Oh, hell no. If this is death, I'd rather go back to living hell- GAH-!" A very familiar face greeted her as she turned. Short brown hair with red streaks, half of their face covered in black goop. ".. Oh okay. " He said, staring at what was, quite literally, her own oc. Kali waved. "Sup." Yeah, sure, this was happening. "Hi. What the hell. Am I high? No, wait, I died, uh... " Kali shrugged, leaning back. The reaper floated, wings flapping absently. "Yeah, you're just dead, buddy. How's it feel?" "Uh. Bad." Kali nodded solemnly in agreement. "Yup. Anywho, welcome to Limbo." Oh sick.
Clover stood, glancing around. "Does that mean Kidd's here-?" "Yeah, but, y'can't stay here. Dunno why, that's just what I was told." Oh. Clover frowned but nodded. "Ok. Uh. Where do I go then." "Dude, how should I know?" "Aren't you the multiverse one?" "I don't know, AM I, Creator??" .. Yeah okay.
"ANYWHO, I'ma just, like, uh.. choose from random. Coolio?" Clover gave a thumbs up. "Sick." She turned and dug through.. absolutely nothing. Stupid cartoon physics.
After a while, Kali's eyes lit up as she grinned. "Ok, you're gonna love this." Clover raised a brow. "Will I?" "Yuh." .. For some totally odd reason, Clover didn't believe that. "Okie, have fun, Creator! Don't, like, die again." He nodded. "I'll try??" And then there was a scythe bonking them in the head.
"Heh. Phighting. ..I should check up on my kids."
Clover was cold. Ew. Coldness sucked. Well, all temperatures did. But that wasn't the point. This was that horrible, HORRIBLE dry cold that dug into your bones. Blinking their eyes open, they were greeting to the sight of the world upside down. .. And their head hurt. Ah, shoot, she should sit up. Sitting up, the child rubbed his head just to pause. "No." Their fingers dug into their scalp.
No. Nononono.
"I'm phucking BALD." He whined before pausing again at the feeling of horns. "Oh nevermind. Sick. Am I in Phighting or something?" They looked around. "I should. Probably not stay here and look crazy."
As they stood up, he thought to himself just one single question: "Man... If I'm, hypothetically, in Phighting.. What's MY gear..?"
..He'd find out soon.
Probably.
Maybe.
Hopefully.