[Some random Pippins has gone missing.]
[Somewhere, in the snowy area outside of TV world, a Lightner of some kind stands. He wears big brown clothes, a large coat, chains wrapped around his arms. A coffin strapped to his back, a sword made of shards of mirror planted into the cold ground, thorns of red curling around it. Shaggy brown hair, eyes dimly glowing purple.]
Did you know... That despite what world it may be, many a time, not one tear is shed when Heathcliff dies? There is simply no one who cares.
[The slightly burly Pippins slides and staggers back, old scars on his white flesh or shell or whatever bleeding a little. Speaking of blood, the red stuff stains his white overshirt, suspenders dyed with the stuff that should be inside the body and not without. A plank hastily turned into a weapon shakes in his hands.]
"Gnhg... I dunno what the hell you want with me of all people, but I'm not gonna just let 'ya kill me!"
[Someone emerges through the hole the Pippins was knocked through, bits of rubble still falling as they bend down to get through. It's a... Certain Lightner.]
"Your name is... Heathcliff, is it not?"
"Aye... What's it matter to 'ya?"
"Good then. I have the correct target to direct my own sorrows unto..."
[The grave in front of the Lightner is a basic one. Just a simple knocked-up mix of wood and stone, words engraved into it by the sword.]
[A large horse-like beast of shadow slowly clops up towards the Lightner. It's missing its head, a stump in the place, dripping blood. Woe, oh Dullahan.]
So it is up to myself instead. It is up to me to cry for them. It is up to me to remember them. It is up to me to bury them, until eventually I too shall join the damp earth below one's feet.
[The giant blade the man carries clashes almost tauntingly against the metal floor of the room before he swings, nearly knocking the plank out of Heathcliff's hands, making him stumble as the man walks forward further, eyes covered in shadow.]
"Tell me, do you even have an equivalent to her? Do you have that same woman who cared for you, as I once had for myself? Or have you been all alone, uncaring and uncared for in turn, Heathcliff?"
"I can- Ghk- CARE FER' MYSELF!"
[Heathcliff fires up with the plank, slamming the Lightner across the face and making his head turn away. The Pippins backs away right after, sweating and shaking, the man glancing back and feeling at his lip with one gloved hand.]
"At the very least you know how to fight. But alas... The sorrow must come to an end. The despair must come to a closure, the pain to a finale. My march is to be one of eternal, until every last one is slain... For her. For my darling ◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️. And then it shall be over. It shall be over..."
[The man breaks out into a run, then disappears-]
[-Only to reappear behind Heathcliff, swinging his sword, blood spurting as the Pippins head is separated clean from his shoulders.]
"... When every last Heathcliff is dead."
[The body promptly collapses to the floor, already cooling.]
This world is of a strange nature. The very darkness itself coiling and taking shape... One could almost compare it to the forest surrounding that accursed manor. Rather dreadful, is it not? And yet, I cannot help but reach out to it... Nevertheless, my journey must continue, for the happiness of ◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️. For her sake...
[The man gets onto the Dullahan, saddling his sword and nodding to the grave. And thus, the Erlking rides on.]
[Unrelated to all that goes on here, but fun, is it not?]
[Seeing an story in another format.]
[Seeing what another does.]
[Grand shows are always fun.]
[Put on a show, I'm with you in the dark watching after all.]