#?lore

For a minute or two, Dough Rat just... lets things be. There's so much to take in -- so many unfamiliar glimpses of faces it barely recalls - and it's pretty overwhelming.

But the clone spies Peppino's immobile form.

Oh... You, too...

It stumbles and scurries and staggers to the man left prone on the ground. There's so little that it can do to help, and the beast knows.

So... for now... it climbs up onto his chest, losing its Peppino-esque features...

He's gonna lie here for a bit.

!

... with everything that's just happened.

of course they noticed.

Exhaustion seeps through his body like water through a rag. This battle won't beat his record for 'number of times retried', but it'll definitely be in the top 15. Each theoretical death has tired him out a little more, with every line backtracked eating up some of his potential energy.

By now, 3H has momentarily shed his 'default' demonic appearance, and if it's cheating to reference his own material, go complain to him after he puts down the Revenged getup. There's a reason he's picked this one and it's for more than just his artificial transforming arm.

The battle appears to be over, however. But... ... there is no door specifically for him.

you can't go home if you were never home in the first place.

Chai's heart lights up underneath his shirt, the mp3 player still pushing out its music. 808's LEDs flicker before going steady. Korsica's long since departed, leaving just him and his robot cat. The sound. The sound.

forget it. push it aside. you're not scared. there's nothing to be scared of. you were never a target, never in the right spotlight. and right now, that's a good thing. so just push it aside. nothing. is going to happen to you.

He can hardly hear Peppermint's voice, and for once it isn't his terrible attention span. "--ai! If you c-- --me, you need t-- --out of th--!"

There is something about hearing the voice of someone you love, calling your name -- calling for you - that seems to filter through every last snarl and squeal and howl and cackle and... and...

His body has grown. Layers on layers, thick with dough that isn't his own.

We got to go home!

Where is home, again?

We got to get out!

Not without Pep, please, not without...

But every step forward is ruined. Every step forward is met with three shoves back.

Fingers dig into him and strip away the protective coating, rending pieces of collected dough off of him. Pino braces himself, hands over his head, body curled inward. As the man under the monstrous form is revealed,

The heat's too much. Exertion is at maximum. But he needs to get to Pep. He needs to get to Pep. Please. Please. some part of his heart knows that it won't happen, they won't let him, it's an impossible task but he'll die first before he lets them take his brother.