The opening of my sequel fanfic
Plan on going to ao3 soon! Any comments would be greatly appreciated
Bright. It was so bright. Where was he again?
He looked around, trying to get his bearings. He began to wobble, waving his arms to regain balance. He thought he might puke.
The office. The headset. It was coming back to him now. This was VR. He was fine. Why wouldn't his heart calm down? He was fine. Everything was okay. He tried to take the headset off... and felt nothing but feathers. Feathers? Where'd they come from? He tried to remember, but no explanation came to mind.
"Hello?" His heart was beating faster and faster, out of his chest and into his neck. Every beat was like a drum. So many lights. So many colors. He shut his eyes, trying to block out the visual noise. Still too damn bright!
Breathe. He needed to breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth. His heartbeat slowed. After a moment he opened his eyes again, taking in the saturated colors and bright light. He needed to study his surroundings.
He was on a stage. Behind him were curtains. He was in a giant circus tent. In front of him were multiple stories of slides, doors and colorful blocks. He began to move very slowly towards the stairs leading off of the stage.
âHey, there.â He froze. His eyes scanned the large checkerboard floor before him, not seeing anyone.
âWh-whoâs there? Hello?â As he spoke he did his best to keep the panic out of his voice, to will his body to stop shaking.
Squinting, he barely managed to make out a form moving through the checkerboard floor. A jester. A really short, cartoony jester. An NPC? Is this a game?
âOver here!â She wore a warm smile on her⌠lips? Her paper-white face lacked either a nose or lips. Or eyebrows.
âWh-who are you? Where am I? Why canât I⌠take this⌠fucking headset off?â He tried again. More feathers.
âItâs, um⌠itâs alright. Just⌠calm down. Panicking wonât help.â She began fidgeting with one of four strands of hair sticking out from under her hat. From behind a wall, a second figure began to approach. This time a stuffed ragdoll, one button eye and one ârealâ.
âWeâve, uh, all been where you are. I know this is all a tad overwhelming, but I promise itâll be alright.â The doll approached slowly, hands up.
âWh-what do you mean, youâve been where I am?â
At that, the jester sucked down a breath. âExploring an abandoned building, finding a headset in a ruined officeâŚâ
âSo, what youâre saying is⌠what, exactly?â
âThat weâre just like you.â Way too advanced. Not a game.
The doll watched him, and clearly didnât like his expression. âWe can talk about that later. Letâs take it slow. First, whatâs your name?â
Name? ââŚâ He opened his mouth to say it, but nothing came out. My name. My name! What was it?
âYou canât remember, can you?â The jester tried smiling comfortingly again. âThatâs normal. None of us can.â
âWe usually choose our names.â
The jester nodded. âWhat do you want to be called?â
He looked down. His hand wasnât his. It was red and orange, feathery and alien. He touched his face. More feathers. This wasnât his body. It couldnât be.
âYou⌠alright there?â He looked at the jester, saying nothing. It was too much. All of this was too much. He couldnât even form a sentence, let alone decide his name.
âRoopo?â The doll chuckled awkwardly. When he didnât respond, she filled the silence. âAt least until you find a name you like?â
Roopo? What does it matter? âSure. Roopo.â
âOh, boy! A new one.â
Roopo watched the anthropomorphic chess piece, a white king, as it watched him.
âHi.â Roopo watched him, but the piece only stared back blinking one eye at a time. âUh⌠is he alright?
âThe light⌠it messes with him. Heâs usually lucid, I promise.â The jester chuckled awkwardly. âSorry for how unorganized this is, by the way. We had a whole plan for if a newcomer showed up, but it's been so many years⌠we werenât ready.â
âGosh,â the doll began. âYears, huh⌠time really does fly.â
There was an air about these two. Roopo couldnât tell if something was awry or if they were just really, really awkward.
âAnyway⌠names! Iâm Pomni, thatâs Kinger and sheâs Ragatha. Thereâre three others: Zooble, Gangle and Caine. Theyâll be back soon.â
âOh! I almost forgot. Abel, too.â
Roopo nodded, not fully listening. A circus. A king. A jester. A ragdoll. And himself⌠a phoenix. It was almost too crazy to believe. Or it would be, if he wasnât living it.
His mind began to wander. The office. The headset. His friends.
Pomni and Ragatha paused. He was about to repeat the question when Pomni responded: âWe canât exactly⌠leaveâŚâ She rubbed the back of her head, averting her eyes.
âIt's not as bad as it sounds!â Ragatha began, moving animatedly. âThereâs⌠an adjustment period. But once you get used to it, it's⌠really quite nice!â She sounded desperate to convince him.
Roopo gave them a blank look. They returned his gaze, though their expressions became increasingly concerned.
Finally, Pomni broke the silence. ââŚwhy donât we show you to your room?â
âInsects?â Kinger began to look around wildly. Roopo watched him for a bit before being pulled away by Pomni.
Passing numerous doors with various cartoonish characters on them, many of them Xed out, Roopo eventually ran into a room with the face of an anthropomorphized phoenix on it. He wanted to stop and ask what the Xes meant, but didnât get a chance.
âWhy donât you get your bearings, and⌠weâll check on you once Caine and the others return?â The ragdoll tried smiling again.
Roopo nodded, moving inside and hearing the door shut behind him. His room was like a medieval hatchery. There was a chimney that went seemingly nowhere, a fireplace, some generic paintings and⌠a bed.
Roopo wasnât at all tired, but he desperately craved mental respite. He climbed into the bed and shut his eyes. It was comfortable. Far more comfortable than he ever thought possible.
So he pulled the sheet off and laid down on the stone floor. It was cold and hard. Something dulled his senses, though, and it wasnât so distracting that he couldnât sleep. He quickly drifted off, unsure what tomorrow might bring.
