#yooo....

Dream ‘woke up’ from his chat with Lady Death with the information that no, he could not eradicate humanity based on the evidence of one town after barely speaking to one mortal and yes, he had to live as mortals did, which meant no smiting. Upbeat video game music played from another room, and he sticks his head out to observe the scene. 

 The satyr guide from yesterday is still there, in the same green tunic and  shorts. Void stay his hand, satyrs were never supposed to exist! Humans were supposed to discover magic in the twelfth century, blow themselves up a few times, and eventually conclude that only gods and their respective Chosen were capable of wielding it without ruin. But no. Instead they had used magic so much it bled into them and changed them from templates of Lady Death and Prime’s forms into..all this. 

  Death’s new attendant, Ranbike or something, was watching the satyr play. They mostly made warbling noises in tune with the music, but once in a while, when the satyr(Tubbo?) had decided they ‘wouldn’t mess up his save,’ he’d pass over the controller. The attendant then proceeded to fiddle with the character onscreen until they’d reach an important location and hand it back. Frankly, it looked rather tedious.

“Satyr? You said you’d be taking us to Kinoko Kingdom. We leave in five minutes,” Dream announced, walking into the room, “Neither of you seem to be doing anything important so hopefully we’ll be out of this place soon.”

The satyr rolled his eyes before standing and clopping over to a backpack by the door. He slung it around his shoulders and put his hand on the knob, “My name is Tubbo, if you cared to know.”

“I don’t.”

The satyr opened the door swiftly, so it slammed against the wall, “God, you’d better be glad I’m being paid for this shit. Fucking rich people,” he pauses for a moment, glancing back the couch, “You’re fine though.”