IT'S!! TV!! TiME!!

Found a ref on Pinterest for the outfit and I’m happy with how it turned out:3

"SHE DID!!! CAN'T EVEN BLAMEHER!!! I TRIED TO [[$%#]]ING MURDER THEM!!!! AND KRIS!!??!! DON'T EVEN!!! GET ME STARTED!!!! ON THAT [[Existential Crisis]]!!!!!!" Spamton scans the passing halls for any advantage he can find, "AND THAT LITTLE [H4X0R] !!? FOR BUSINESS REASONS!!! WE GOT A [Sweet Deals] GOING!!! PROBABLY OWE THE KID SOME KROMER--"

Smells fresh from Kris's pockets! Vague hints of apple and garbage, "[[$#!%]]-"

Shifting in an instant from screaming to silence, the puppet focuses on the passing ceiling panels to his right as he waits. Too close and they both go down in sparks, but far enough that it catches the other robot off-guard. If he could sweat, they'd have more bullets, "TAKING IT-!"

He'll defend his little existential crisis later. At the very least, he should be grateful it's just vaguely apple scented, and not mossy. He worries about those kids.

As soon as the antennae pick up the sharp twang of the sprinkler, though, he only runs a little further. The thing is trying to move toward them, despite the rattling curtain of sparks rapidly engulfing it. His metal hand makes a shooting gesture with his index finger and thumb, and a series of sinister stars barrage the thing in the face until it falls prone.

It tries to fire off one shot of its own; Tenna sharply drops his shoulder (and Spamton!) to dodge it. Thankfully, the puppet is caught in his hand.

"Let's see it get back up after that shock of a lifetime."

It twitches uncomfortably enough to set the CRT on edge... but eventually, it stops moving in the wet, electrified hallway. Whew! Danger gone, he lowers him back down onto the medical-blue linoleum tile. And he...

Laughs.

Not boldly, no exaggerated gestures, just a mere shake of his shoulders while an old, out-of-practice laugh cracks through his speakers. Despite the bickering, the name-calling, the jabs... Spamton was still one of his oldest friends. To see him back here felt like an emptiness inside his shell filled back in a little.

"Nice shot."

Before he looks back down at the mess they made of the hallway.

"...I've been wanting to say something to you for a while now. Couldn't really get the point across, no matter how I tried before--ah ah! Let me finish. Before we go back to the city, just let me put it out there, okay? It's something I really think you need to hear."

His old partner is spared one sentimental smile, and the CRT comfortably folds his arms, finally free enough of the curse of censorship to tell the other the words he hadn't been able to tell him in a very, very long time.

"Welcome back, you fucking asshole."

It's an unusually firm tone from the Darkner, who pulls up a chair as to not loom over the other... but his screen does meet Vanth's. A hand moves to the other's non-wounded shoulder, and while it isn't directly applying pressure, it does discourage him from moving.

"Running yourself into walls and ignoring how much it hurts isn't going to help you. The healing, the 're-spawning', it's not going to fix what's happening. And it sure as hell doesn't mean that it's painless every time it happens."

...Funny, the CRT usually doesn't talk like this. There's always some sort of pep to his words, like he's always being watched. Always ready to perform. Right now, he sounds... like he's talking to the young man at his own level, instead of that ever-present theme of subservience of the machine.

One claw rips open the package for the sterile bandage, and the other grabs an antibiotic pain gel from the first aid kit. The gel, he hands to Vanth, letting him apply it himself. The structure of his hands would only hurt him further.

That hurt.

Mention of a portal snaps his screen up... Though why he thought to look at the man smiling back at him, outlined in the soft glow of the portal, before the actual portal himself was. Something he was going to unpack at a time that wasn't right now.

"...You know what? I think you're right--I think you're right! That looks like the middle of town! We found it! HA!"

Deep breath in! Deep breath out. And up he wobbles!

"Well isn't this

Octavo holds his hands out, a bit worried by Tenna's unsteadiness. "But, we could- Can't we bring people here? I can teleport across rooms, I can clear the distance no problem, as long as I remember where it is! There are folks here with no powers, we could return them to the city! Maybe I could actually be of help to someone for once!"

"Well, look! We already did the hard part! It's a big, banged-up door, that's pretty easy to recognize. No reason why we can't broadcast that note around to everyone's phones, right?"

Text. He means text.

"And besides! You've already helped me find this place, so Susie and that rabid thing I call my ex can find it too. I'm sure they've talked to others. And, well, look at you. You've been running around yourself. And I have a feeling... you've probably woken back up in that cell at least one other time."

Reassuringly, he places his hands on the bard's shoulders.

"I wouldn't call it worse shape, I've just taken some superficial damage, that's all. Look, I'm not even dusty!"

Whether that meant anything to Octavo remained up in the air, but he did say he came from a place where it was Monsters who lived there. Perhaps their physiology was different.

"So I'm fine! And I'm glad you care--really! And I care about you being okay too! So,"

Those same hands tighten, and up into Tenna's grasp, Octavo goes.

"Don't take it personally--I'm really good at telling what Lightners need. Better than they do, sometimes! And what you need is to get outta here."

"Say goodnight, Tavvy!"

And like he weighed little more than a gallon of water, the other is tossed (apologetically) through the portal.

...charade over with, though, the Darkner falls to his knees, holding a hand to the crack in his plating.

Letting out a relieved breath, Octavo glances around the room they've found themselves in. It's smaller than the last, barely more than a closet, and at the end is an oval-shaped opening set against the wall. It looks like a mirror, but within its glowing face, Octavo can see a reflection of the city.

That hurt.

Mention of a portal snaps his screen up... Though why he thought to look at the man smiling back at him, outlined in the soft glow of the portal, before the actual portal himself was. Something he was going to unpack at a time that wasn't right now.

"...You know what? I think you're right--I think you're right! That looks like the middle of town! We found it! HA!"

Deep breath in! Deep breath out. And up he wobbles!

"Well isn't this

The machine slams itself against the door, legs scrabbling. Tenna was strong but Octavo had seen these things tear right through hinges, so he quickly picks himself up and looks for another way forward.

This room is different from all the others he's seen before; it's not very large, more like a hallway than anything, with another metal door at the other end, though this one seems to seal diagonally. Several tall, narrow monitors are set into the walls, though their screens are a mess of dead and discolored pixels, dented like something had been thrown at them with great force. The only text he can read on it reads:

[ENGAGE DISINFECTION TO PROCEED]

A button blinks green on the panel below. "Tenna," Octavo turns to him. "I think this opens the door. Should we..."

"Engage disinfection...? Well, in space movies, that's so you don't contaminate whatever's going in and out of the ship. Right? But..."

Tenna wasn't an organic being; he'd be fine. But Octavo was, wasn't he?

"Maybe--"

Something heavy slams the doors behind him, and he braces himself against it.

"What if it's some kind of, acid-cleaning, something?? Would you even be able to--"

The next slam was accompanied by several sharp cracks and a wince from the Darkner. A claw pierced through the door, splintering a plastic panel on his back. Whatever shrill noise that emits from his speaker isn't something a human can make.

"Maybe not everybody's up here," he suggests. "It doesn't feel like there are hundreds of people running around this station. Some of them might have been left behind. That, or the place is much larger than it seems." There hadn't been an end to the facility that he'd encountered so far, maybe apart from the cafeteria, with its huge windows looking out onto the lunar wastes.

But when that hand slammed on the wall, whatever was approaching was now approaching faster. With a swear, Tenna picks up Octavo entirely within his claws, and begins running.

"Okay, who cares! So the Stars made something scary! None of that changes the fact that there's things trying to kill us in here!"

Their fingers twitch and fidget together, shoulders drawn in against their ears to make themselves smaller.

Tenna deserves so much better than a mess of a kid. And he deserves to not lose anyone again - that's honestly the only thing that keeps Kris was blurting out everything that happened leading up to Dess's disappearance. They wanted to self-destruct, but Tenna's kindness spoiled that, and now they just have all these words sitting in their throat with nowhere to go.

Nothing to say.

Because they don't want Tenna to grapple with the uncomfortable feelings of the reality of Dess's situation.

Kris grips their sleeves tightly, twisting the fabric in their grips. Their shoulders fall, and they let out a slow, shuddering breath.

Susie is okay. They should focus on that.

But they just can't stop thinking.

Do they only care so much about Susie because she reminds them of Dess in almost every way? Is that why they're... their throat gets tight, unable to think about just how deeply they care about her. How much it's going to kill them to disappoint her by being a monster. A real one. Not like everyone else.

They shift, scooting back on the bed - and lean their back against Tenna's shoulder, hands slipping down to lay limp on their lap.

"If she doesn't just tank them and tackle us anyway. Tell you what, I'll wear my 'gonna get hit with a pie' suit, just in case."

Did he have such a thing? Knowing him, maybe he did.

...

"...She'll come back, buddy. She did before, when it counted. She'll do it again. That's our Susie!"

The Darkner is perfectly content to stay where he was. It never upset him that sometimes the Lightners would fall asleep to him sometimes--he liked being looked at, sure! But knowing you were the reason someone felt comfortable and relaxed enough to sleep to what you were doing was its own form of love. Even in the Light World, after all those years of sitting there unplugged in the dark... being able to do that one more time before leaving the Dreemurr house filled him with pride.

For now, he tries to find something mindless. Enough white noise to pay some attention and drift off to. Maybe the How That's Done show; that used to do it. Softly, it plays from his old speakers as he leans against the wall.

...