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I like to think that instead of buying from Hombask, the Drifter/Operator runs through the Zariman picking up anything they like. Leaving with one of these full of blankets, pillows, lanterns and whatever else.
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The sounds of the metal under the hooded borrowerâs shoes echoed through the vents, excruciatingly loud normally, but in a deserted house like this it didnât matter. Dream smiled from behind his mask, using a hand to shield his eyes as he reached an outdoor exit for the air within the vents⌠a hole meticulously made in the grates. He would hook his hook around the grate lines, and begin to rappel himself down⌠and once he reached the bush, he would take berries from it with strong tugs to rip them out from their stems; It was a routine day, afterwards he would get some water from a leaky pipe and would patch it back up when he left from the attic.Â
Everything seemed normal, he had only been here for a week but it had been a great house so far. If only the last house I went to was half as peaceful⌠I hope that guy didnât mind that needle shot. He mused over his most recent past, balancing across a pipe in the attic to reach his base of operations. It was a simple place carved out of an old box, it wasnât much, but for now it was home.
Once he got inside he would place his bag down next to his âbooksâ which lay against a wall, and laid atop a piece of fluff he had stolen a few houses prior⌠they all blurred together so he couldnât quite remember which. He sighed, stroking his temple with two fingers, it was relaxing for sure but the adventure was always something he enjoyed. He supposed it could be worse though, that blue haired borrower from a few houses back (Or was it longer than a few?) was even more of a thrillseeker than he was, foolish even; Dream couldnât judge however, only hope his fellow borrower would be safe.
The base was an interesting place, to a human at least, to a borrower it was all very typical save for the âbooksâ. Dreamâs makeshift bean bag out of fluff was in the center, directly in front of it to the left in the corner laid a few pieces of paper, some of those papers being held together by a very thin needle. The papers were the âbooksâ mentioned earlier, inside laid some teachings in the borrowerâs written language on operations for the special Hook Dream had, as well as basic advice and even one of them being a journal he wrote in from time to time. In the opposite corner, to the right of the front of the bean bag were a few murals, sketches of a variety of people, a pink haired man in a crown, the blue haired borrower, another borrower with wings, and so on. The walls behind the bean bag, and farthest from the entrance, were mostly empty⌠save for a few tools to repair the hook in the event of a malfunction or damage being sustained, and a variety of needles to be used as weapons.Â
Dream sighed as he unequipped the hook for a moment, taking it off of his waist. It was truly a special thing, heck he probably wouldnât be alive right now without it. You see, the hook was an automated one that could be worn around his waist, all it took was a bit of control for where you wanted to throw it and the damn thing could hook onto just about anything with enough momentum, it could allow him to swing the length of an entire room, and when mixed with Dreamâs unique analytical vision, it was easy to gauge what he needed to do to get close enough to stab a Bean and get away fast without being caught.
His train of thought was interrupted though as his ears detected a familiar sound⌠the jingling of keys turning as the front door was opened.Â
That couldnât be right?Â
Almost growling, he got up, put his hook on, and ran out the front door of his box⌠leaping out and throwing the hook to a support beam in the attic, swooping down and swinging directly in between the bars of a vent grate and spiraling down, down, down before shooting the hook back up for it to lodge within the roof of the shaft and allow him to slow his fall to a soft thump of his makeshift shoes. From here, he would head to the living room with a nervous, yet excited expression overcame his face. Excitement at the prospect of being able to finetune his skills and battle with a bean, but also annoyed and nervous at the relaxation being taken away. He would be sure to readjust his mask, and heâd emerge out onto a shelf, overlooking the scene.
He made an oof sound as he dropped a box down onto the hard floor, using a hand to push his glasses up as he looked around the house. It wasnât much, but it would serve well. George had been saving up for a house for a while at this point, wanting somewhere more than an apartment for his streams and recordings.Â
This move had been a big change, but it was something he wanted, and it would bring him somewhere better to live in case his YouTube and Twitch career went up in flames so he could get a job. The next hour or so of his day would be spent carrying boxes from his car inside, thankfully the moving company had come so his bed should already be- His thoughts were cut off abruptly as he opened the bedroom door to find nothing there. He groaned slightly, and checked his phone only to discover theyâd been delayed⌠typical.
The next hour was spent trying to make a makeshift bed on the sofa the house came with; It definitely needed replacing, he couldnât even figure out what every stain was. George eventually just covered it all up with a sheet he had found in one of the boxes, and from there he would try to get everything out of the boxes he could⌠largely just his setup, decor, and his TV. He would grumble slightly and head outside with a pair of clippers. He didnât particularly feel like working for another hour to figure out how to set up the TV, so instead he would take care of some of the prickly fauna in the backyard.Â
George opened the backdoor, and took in the fresh air. It was a rather beautiful backyard despite the overgrown plants, but he would still keep some of them. But first things first, that prickly berry bush right up against the house would be the first to go. George took his clippers to the bush, he didnât want to get pricked by it anytime soon. When he leaned in to take the first snip however, an acorn conked him right on the forehead, and caused him to reel back with an audible âOw!â while he clutched his head. He looked all around.Â
How had the nut hit him?Â
The tree in the yard wasnât overhanging above him, and he hadnât heard any squirrels⌠he pondered over this for only a moment, before taking a step back towards the berry bush; And he immediately fell over into the bush with a rather high-pitched screech, his shoes had been tied together, and now he was covered in thorns!Â
âOw, ow ow ow!â He grunted as he practically leaped away from the bush and tenderly touched where they had pricked him on his arms. âUrgâŚâ He looked up briefly, feeling around his neck. As he did this, he saw a glimmer of something disappearing into an air vent.
Something clicked in his head. Was this perhaps⌠the doing of a borrower? Heâd heard a lot of stories about those little guys, nothing specific, and no one was sure if they really existed, but⌠No, it was crazy, he mustâve imagined it. But as he got up and headed back inside to extract some of the embedded thorns, he thought he heard something that sounded like laughter.
Special thanks to @i-am-beckyu for reviewing the fic beforehand! I was h^lla rusty at the time so it helped a ton! (There is an owo hidden somewhere in this fic courtesy of my Gf btw xd)
Also: This post is actually a double feature, almost immediately after I am posting a fic for a different fandom! :3 I know itâs not what yâall followed me for but itâs a new passion of mine x3 totally would recommend checking out Dannocaldrawings and Shorts Wars on YT in general tho if you donât know what they are or else that other fic will be confusing af.