TechnoAnxiety

Wk 13 pt 1: ded

[alright then
this is the final week of this arc.
heartbreak, anger, sorrow, sadness and joy. those are the things you may feel.
you have been warned.

also the quality of this week will get so much better once a few people die, I can't write a group of 8 people well

:]

shitty writing/whatever...the hell... this is.

"Alright then, where do we start?" Was what I announced, standing at the entrance to our abode. "We have this map, but-"

The map in my hands bursts into flames, and I swear and drop it.

Joey snorts, having already thrown his up into the air. "Amateurs." The map explodes mid-air, and in its place is a plasma, futuristic screen map, with where we were signified by flashing icons.

Wings for Phil, a crown for me, a music note for Wilbur, an Enderpearl for Ranboo, a smiley face for Dream, a play button for Tommy and...

"Who's that?" I ask, pointing at the flashing pair of gloves. Then another icon appears- a quill, and another, a sun.

"I'm the pair of gloves," Joey tells us. "The quill is the author, the sun... Is someone else."

"So what does this map do?" Wilbur wonders, throwing his own map in the air. "Apart from show us a map."

Dream moves away from us, and as he does, his icon moves away. Even though I should've expected it, it was pretty cool. Bringing out my own map, I tap on Dream's icon, and another screen pops up.

It showed his image, a real-time image, his name, statistics and location as well. "So, that's handy."

"Yeah, really handy." Joey grins, and then adjusts Phil's hat for him. "Do you wanna get going?"

Joey was vibrating with a nervous energy, he obviously wanted to get this done, but there was also an element that I couldn't quite place. Fear? I dismissed the thought- this was Joey.

"Well, yeah, obviously." Tommy states, pushing forward through the small crowd. "But where do we start? Like, I'm pretty fucking sure I'm going to land head first into a bunch of gigantic pussies."

A message pops up on his screen, and he scowls at it. "Bloody mountain killer with her bloody messages."

Ranboo tilts his head. "What'd they say? Also, please stop swearing."

"What is a Ranboo anyway," Tommy mutters. "She- they- it, said, and I quote, A) Fuck you, B) Language, C) No pussies but there are Dregons, rip-off Shreks, robots, Phinoixes, Canteurs, and Duocorns."

I raise an eyebrow. Sounds like mythological creatures, except... rip-off. A message pops onto my board: "You're a rip-off. Literally." Touché, author, touché.

"Just start here, and work your way through the first level. Don't worry about getting lost, it's my choice either way. Just keep going forward." Ranboo reads out, peering at his screen closely.

So we set out across the land, landscapes flashing in memory and imagination, climates melting and freezing until we reach a swamp.

"That was quick." Joey comments, gazing around the place. "Ok, we're in a swamp, that means that our first trial is about to begin."

Wilbur blinks, turning into a phantom. "Trial of what?"

Joey turns to him, a wicked grin on his face. "Trial of which character the author likes the most. You'll survive longer if they like you more. Two are eliminated each round, so place your bets readers, who's going to go this chapter?"