absence | bench trio (lore)

six

The night was cool and the grass blew peacefully in the wind. Some waves crashed onto the beach, dampening the sand and creating a slightly salty breeze. A young man- or, I suppose you could say man- sat on the edge of the jagged rocks that had been molded and shaped by the sea. He kicked his feet back and forth as they dangled over the edge, looking down at the shore below. Yes, the man was happy, or so he thought. He didn't know if he had ever felt real happiness before. If he hadn't, he was sure it was wonderful. Happiness sounded like a nice thing.

The being wasn't exactly unhappy, though- just always felt something was wrong. He had told Foolish that he felt as though there was a hole inside of his heart, to which Foolish joked about how he was completely transparent, just a big hole in general. He had laughed, but had meant what he said. He didn't know if it was because he sometimes felt lonely, like he was only hung out with because he was just- around. He was always just around. He did have friends, though, so maybe it wasn't that. Maybe it was because he was constantly haunted by the ghost of who he supposedly was, long ago- he would never escape this man called "Wilbur", no matter what he did. People like Fundy, Niki, and Philza would always see him as Wilbur in some shape or form. And he couldn't change that. Maybe it was the fact that he didn't remember anything, and couldn't decide if he wanted to be brought back or not. Maybe it was all of the above. He wasn't sure.

The aura of the ghost dimmed, the silver lining that matched the moon slightly dissipating. Ghostbur didn't like thinking about those things- they made him feel sad. He heard hooves clicking against the rocks as a familiar blue sheep walked up to him and plopped down at his side. Ghostbur smiled and stroked the sheep's back. He took the traces of blue fur in his hand and held them to his chest, hugging his knees as he stared at the moon with his dark eyes. Even though his eyes were jet black, everyone knew that they weren't so in a haunting or spooky way- sometimes, they were comforting to people. It was strange, but you would understand if you saw them.

He suddenly heard footsteps, specifically green converse pounding into the earth as they barreled toward him. Ghostbur turned around, and before he knew it Tommy was in front of him. He looked a mess- his hair was all out of place, his bandana and clothes were untidy and he was extremely out of breath. Ghostbur smiled, wondering if maybe Tommy would want to hang out with him and talk.

"Oh, hey, Tommy-!"

"Ghostbur! Perfect-" He panted frantically, taking Ghostbur's arm and dragging him up to hover in the air. "Would you come to the prison with me? Please?! It's urgent, it's really f--kin' urgent-"

"Oh, well, I-"

"Come on!" And next thing he knew, he was being dragged through the air as Tommy ran toward the prison. He stumbled every once in a while, at one point tripping over a tree root and collapsing into the dirt, but he stood right back up and kept going.

"Tommy, this sounds fun and all, but are you sure you should be going back there?" He asked, glancing back at the Snowchester house for a moment. "I mean, you did say you weren't going to."

"Ghostbur, half the time I don't know sh-t about what comes out of my mouth." Tommy breathed. He sounded exhausted, but wouldn't slow down. "Besides, this time I have real motivation."

"Elaborate?"

"Well..." Tommy shrugged. "He hurt Ranboo."

"Oh." And that was all Ghostbur said. Tommy seemed- not exactly irritable, but more like on edge. Slightly frayed at the edges, and if you pull the wrong string the whole quilt falls apart. Plus, at least he got to spend time with him.

When they reached the prison, Tommy swung his bag off of his back, hands trembling uncontrollably. He dumped it out onto the ground, and Invisibility and Fire Resistance pots clattered out, as well as a diamond sword and some gapples. He didn't like the looks of this bag's contents, but Ghostbur didn't want to make Tommy angry. Tommy ran his hands through his hair and over his face, trying to catch his breath to no avail. Ghostbur couldn't help but notice how unnervingly shaky he was, barely able to control what he was doing.