Dollhouse (Dream SMP)

Dollhouse

The city was dead as the sun rose.

Dream sat on one of the numerous pillars edging L'manberg's boardwalks and breathed. He quite liked coming here to observe, and it had become something of his morning ritual; to watch the country deteriorate like a day-by day time-lapse.

Nature moved fast, he supposed.

L'manberg, he had to admit, was the most gorgeous place in their world, even as it rotted away. He observed how the algae clung to the pillars keeping the town afloat, eating away at the sunbleached wood. Banners decorated doors and windows and walls, leftover from some festival or another, torn and frayed. A family of birds had taken home on Phil's windowsill, the awning above shielding them from the elements-- it seemed the man left traces of family wherever he went. Vines laced over cobblestone walls in green, spindly tapestries. Overhead, lanterns glowed, lighting the way for nobody but crickets. The rising sun cast the world in an orange glow, glinting off the water and making Dream squint. So early in the morning, it was silent, save for the wind, the early birds, and water lapping at the city's pillars.

Dream smiled. It was a beautiful morning.

So lonely was the land around him that it gave him a sense of satisfaction. He knew how pointless it was to take his frustration out on the pretty little town, but it felt satisfying to see a reflection of how he'd felt all those months, finally reflected by the cause of his troubles.

Besides, as evidence by the deterioration, nature clearly didn't mind taking its home back.

"The town that once was nothing is now nothing once more."

Maybe Karl had been onto something there.

Dream sighed as the sky started to blue out of its orange. He hopped off the pillar he sat on and stretched out his limbs. It was starting to get late and he had such a busy day!

He took one last glance out over the Earth, soaking it in despite knowing he'd likely be back the next day, and turned away to return from whence he came. To return home. He had to visit his family.

In his absence, L'manberg creaked like a growling stomach asking why it was so empty. Miles away, a cabin sat in a snowstorm collecting dust as the steed tied outside of it prayed for someone to stop by and give it breakfast. Throughout the woods, red vines crept through the land. In dozens of chests, journals sat, awaiting their next update after so many months.

The world was dead as the sun rose. The sun wondered what the point of rising was when there was nobody for it to rise for.

Dream heard faint chatter as he approached the prison. Hard to hear, but apparent nonetheless. When he swiped his key card and the door to the prison slid open with a deafening shudder and clank, it went dead silent. It knew who had come.

Sam sat expectantly near the entrence. He didn't meet Dream's eye as he entered. Even so, Dream gave a polite, "Good morning."

No response. Dream didn't expect one.

"Any updates?"

Sam fidgeted in the way he did when there clearly was news, but he was hesitant to share.

"Serious or trivial?" Dream sighed.

Sam's jaw clenched. After a moment, he gritted out, "This is a prison. I don't think anything can be trivial here."

"Sam, don't dodge the question."

"... 'Trivial', I guess. As in, like, nobody tried to break out or got violent. But..." Sam said after a moment, "George said he'd talk to you if you let him see Sapnap."