The Dream Bubbles – Unknown relative time scale.

Tavros fell. This moment had been playing over and over again; each time as unbearable as the last. He and Vriska were back on the Meteor, on opposite ends of the walkway. Her with her wings and him with his new metal legs. She'd just revealed her newest asspull of a "plan". She was going to fight Jack Noir, something that would assuredly get her and everyone else killed. Convinced that it was the only way to stop her and filled with self-righteous fury, he'd charged at her with his lance.

As he charged, he let his emotions get the better of him, let loose by the adrenaline and uncharacteristic aggression. The memory of all the wrongs Vriska had done filled him with indignation. She'd crippled him during a children's game, killed Aradia using the girl's own boyfriend as a tool, blinded Terezi ,and killed an unknowable number of their fellow Trolls to feed a monster. Their home-world had been a rough place; where those in authority gleefully culled the faint-hearted and the weak. But even so her deeds were deplorable. The things she'd done to him. It was time for her to pay.

As he closed the gap something about Vriska's composure changed. Her bemused smirk being replaced with a look of annoyance as she realized that this wasn't a game anymore. That he was truly going to try and kill her.

As he reached the point of impact the fight would end before it even began. Vriska sidestepped the lance and followed up with a hard slap to his face. Ripping the lance from his grasp she impaled him with it, his bronze blood seeping out of the gaping wound. Then she picked him up and threw him into the abyss below. The last thing his eyes seeing would be Vriska, standing on the edge and watching him plummet, waving.

As he fell for what must have been the 50th time in a row he relented. He was already dead, and there was no sense in reliving this memory over and over again as if he could change anything. He closed his eyes and his falling slowed till he was floating in the air. As he opened his eyes a change washed over him. There was no lance, no blood, and his eyes were blank white spheres. He inhaled and exhaled, letting out a breath that, being dead, he didn't really need.

So this was it. Tavros Nitram was dead. He had to say, he'd probable surprised a lot of people staying alive for as long as he did. He looked around the now off-script memory. He'd never given dying much thought but would have thought there would be some sort of committee or line or something, not just standing around reliving your memories. He began flying upwards, leaving. Past the empty walkway, through the walls of the meteor, and out of the memory. It was time to see what else the afterlife held.

Tavros continued moving along. He had no idea how much time had passed since he'd "awoken" but the landscape had changed several times. Each being a location from his or someone else's past. He currently strode through an empty desert, and while horses could be heard whinnying in the distance, no living thing was visible. He stopped, and was about to call it quits and sit down, when he heard the sound of running footsteps and was crashed into from behind. His assailant crying out. "Rufioh, it IS you! I was so worried!"

Tavros struggled to get free from his attacker. Who was, hugging him? He flailed around until one of his fists found its target and the attacker was thrown off. Tavros scampered away, trying to get some distance between the two of them before turning around to face his new adversary. It was a man, who looked more Human than Troll, but was clearly neither. He stood tall and had orange skin, with eyes blank like Tavros's. Rubbing the spot in his face where Tavros had hit him the stranger mumbled. "Rufioh, what the heck man? Why would you do that?"

The stranger seemed to determine that nothing was broken or bleeding and began to get up. Tavros backed up a few more feet just to be safe. The orange man started forwards again at a slower pace. "Rufioh, what gives? It's me Andr-". He stopped suddenly; his eyes fixed on Tavros. As he looked at him his expression turned crestfallen. "Oh, Tavros, it's just you. I… though you were someone else, sorry man."

Tavros's combative posture dropped a hair. He'd never met this individual in his life. "Do I know you?" The Troll asked, unsure if he'd like the answer.

Responding hesitantly the man said. "Umm… not yet? Like we know each other in the future? That's reasonable right?" Tavros said nothing. What was being posited would track with the sort of shenanigans that had been going on as late; but something in Tavros's gut told him he was being lied to, but also to just go along with it. For now.

Having been looking around as if searching for something he'd misplaced, the man eventually turned back to Tavros and asked a question. "Hey where's Vriska? Have you seen her around?"

Tavros decided to respond truthfully, wanting to see what angle this guy was playing. "Well if this is the afterlife then you're out of luck, last I checked Vriska's alive."

The man seemed shocked. If Tavros not being "Rufioh" had thrown him for a loop, this news seemed to have rocked his word view. "What? I could have sworn she'd be dead by this point! There were… plans and stuff! Oh man, oh geez. This throws the schedule way out of whack."

Tavros was at a loss for words. He didn't know how to respond to that. And while it probably wasn't what the strange man meant by his words; Tavros could empathize with being confused that someone or something hadn't killed Vriska yet with how rash and arrogant she was. Though he supposed he was one to talk at this point.

Composing himself, the man reached into his pocket and pulled out a simple-looking gold ring. "Ok Tavros listen carefully because I'm not sure how much time I have here. This is the Ring of Life, it can heal wounds and bring people back from the dead. It is very important that Vriska gets this ring. I'm going to give it to you because, let's be honest, somehow someway you and her are going to end up bumping into each other again. You know what I mean?"

Tavros nodded his head with a grim look on his face. He did indeed understand what this madman was getting at. The bumbling into Vriska part at any rate.

Tavros took the ring from the man and put it in his pocket. But before the man could continue talking, all Hell broke loose.

Something large and heavy came barreling out of the sky, crashing into the sand only feet away from the two. Tavros was sent flying into a distant dune, while the man stood rooted in place and weathered the impact.

From the crater emerged another man. Green, with a face whose skin was pulled taunt across the skull. The newcomer was easily eight feet tall. They wore nothing but a large open overcoat and a pair of pale shorts, nothing else would probably fit with how muscular they were. Their eyes flashed through a multitude of colors; red, then green, then yellow, then blue.

The orange man spoke in a barely audible whisper. "Lord English."

As Tavros dug himself out of the sand-dune he'd landed in. He looked over, and bore witness to a display of strength not seen in eons. The green newcomer towered over the orange one, and without uttering so much as a single word, opened his mouth and let forth a blinding beam of white energy. The orange man was disintegrated instantly, showing Tavros that even the dead could be killed. Where the beam hit the ground, cracks formed and spread. Overtaken with fear, Tavros bolted, flying as fast as he could out of harm's way. He didn't know what was happening but was going to get out of doge as fast as he could.

He'd only just escaped from it when the Dream Bubble he'd previously occupied, popped.

The Meteor – Two months after departure from the Green Sun

John and Vriska sat in the common area of the Meteor. They sat next to each other, rather closely in fact. But John didn't have time to be flushed with childish embarrassment; he was too busy reading a book.

The two of them been doing this for weeks, talking. Ever since Vriska had opened up after the poker game. She'd been telling him more and more about herself and Alternia; with John taking it all in like a sponge. He now knew more about Alternia culture, and Vriska, than any of the other Humans. And now there was this. Vriska had been waited to show it off. A thick leather-bound book musty with age, but cared for through all the years.

The book in question was a journal. Not Vriska's, but rather her Ancestor's, Marquise Spinneret Mindfang; the woman Vriska had worked so hard to mold herself after. Who she'd looked to as someone to grow into and emulate.

Portions of the journal were definitely not for the faint of heart, nor children for that matter. But it didn't disturb John too much, he'd seen about as worse in the Human game session. No, what bothered John was the amount of glee Vriska had with some of the more extreme sections. Their times together were proving to be a real eye-opener into Vriska's psych. He was starting to see where she got it all from.

They'd just gotten through the day's passages, and were heatedly discussing some of Mindfang's more colorful life choices. The day's reading had been about a legal proceeding; if one could call it that. Where Mindfang had used her powers of mind control to whip the members of the gallery into a frenzy and then had them hang the prosecution/law-officer that had arrested her. Then she'd then killed the judge and ran away, surviving to cause even more grief for the Troll's world.

After reading about Mindfang's victory, Vriska had pointed at the offending passage and said. "See that's what strength is; not taking shit, standing up and pushing your way through, even when you're down and the odds think they're stacked against you."

John had a look on his face. He guessed he could agree with the principle but not the example. "Ok. But wasn't she kind of the bad guy here? I mean she'd kind of been doing pirate-y things for decades. And she raped that one woman with mind control a few passages back?" He started flipping through the pages trying to find the relevant section but Vriska stopped him.

"John come on, Duscar's wench? You're going to go all bleeding heart over that again? That wasn't what the trial was even about. You're taking it all completely out of context."

"What context?"

"Well." Vriska's face scrunched up as she tried to justify the horrid actions of her hero, actions that no matter how hard she boasted she'd never have the moral abandonment to do in full. "The piracy was justified. It was against a corrupt society; and the judge was a freaking murder-clown. As for your other concern… it wasn't… really… um. It's not really clear that it went all the way by the wording." She said, repeating her excuse from when they'd first discussed it.

John sat with a look of skepticism.

Vriska continued. "And besides what I'm getting at; is that it didn't matter if what she did was someone else's definition of wrong. She made her own right. She did what she had to do. She took what she wanted. And anyone that tried to stop her didn't keep doing that for long. That's what it meant for Mindfang to be who she was, and as her descendent that's what it means to be me." She finished, arms crossed and face smug, like that won her the argument.

But John could see the cracks, faint though they were. She was telling herself this as much as she was telling him.

John opened his mouth to push the issue, but then paused. A buzzing noise could be heard, a low vibration in the ear. Vriska could hear it to, she was looking around also. "What is that?" She said, and then all Hell broke loose.

The buzzing grew in crescendo, becoming a rumble, then an Earthquake. John started to duck under the table by instinct, only to swear as he realized Vriska would have trouble on her own. No matter how arrogant she could be sometimes it just wasn't in his nature to leave someone unhelped.

He grabbed her out of the wheelchair and got an indignant "HEY!" for his efforts. Hauling her under the table just as a massive flash of light shone through the meteor walls and the rumbling ceased with sudden abruptness.

She hit him lightly. "What was THAT for?"

John muttered an apology as he helped her back into the wheelchair. "Sorry, I grew up in an Earthquake zone. Habit."

Vriska sighed. "It's alright, I know you meant well. We better go see what that was all about."

The two of them made their way to the roof. Bumping into Terezi and Kanaya along the way, neither of who knew what had happed themselves.

Reaching the top they could instantly see what was wrong. The Void above was cracked, like a smashed-in monitor. Where the cracks ended and met the undisturbed void, there was a fire that burned in all sorts of strange colors. Colors that fire just shouldn't be. Everyone looked at eachother nervously, sure that this portended nothing good.

The Dream Bubbles

Tavros laid on the ground trying to catch his breath, lucky to still be "alive" after all that. It had been an intense few moments, what with the exploding and everything. He was pretty sure the other guy was nothing but ash now. Double-dead.

The other guy. That reminded Tavros about the ring he was given. Sitting up, he checked his pocket to see if it was still there. It was. He turned it over in his hand. It was a single gold band, unadorned with any accruements; a marked difference from the all-important rings of the game sessions, with their floating orbs. The Ring of Life the man had called it. It seemed like such a simple little thing to be able to do all the stuff he had been told. Tavros inched one of his fingers towards it, just to see what would happen if….

"Ahem."

A cough from behind startled him to his feet. This was it! The Skull Man had followed him! He spun around, fully expecting to see the green-skinned demon from before, and ready to fly off as fast as he could. But no such creature was there, just Sollux and Aradia. Waving.

The unexpected lack of danger gave Tavros pause, and made his heart drop back down from his throat to his stomach. These were the last two people he had expected to find out here.

"Hello Tavros." Said Aradia. "Sup." Said Sollux.

Tavros just waved back. This was unreal. He had to ask. "Are you guys dead too?"

Sollux shook his head. "I am but she's not." He said, pointing to Aradia; who by the look of things was doing quite well. Considering that for the entirety of the Troll's session she had been dead and now was not only alive but a God-Tier somehow. The winds of fortune were a mysterious thing.

Tavros took care to put the ring back in his pocket before responding. "If she's not dead then how is she here? Not that I'm complaining, it's always good to see another friend, but I thought this was the afterlife."

"Thank you Tavros it's good to see you too. This place that we're in is a collection of bubbles scattered throughout the Furthest Ring. It isn't the afterlife per-say. It would be more accurate to say that the Horror-Terrors interred your souls here before you both could properly pass on; and are holding you here for some as-of-yet unknown purpose."

Tavros cringed at the idea that a group of tentacled monstrosities might have a plan for him. "Sheesh. Ok. So if this is the Furthest Ring from our session then you flew here? Are any of the others here, did we get away from Jack?"

"After your passing several more our other friends died as well. I have good reason to believe that they are also somewhere within these Dream Bubbles. As for the others, it turns out that all sessions of the game are within the same three-dimensional space, sharing the same Furthest Ring. Travel is usually impossible due to the distances involved and the monsters, however those that stayed alive have managed to link up with some of the Humans and are all presently making their way to a new, reset, Human session."

This was a lot for him to take in. "Can we go meet up with them?"

"We could, but that would be a regrettably short-term solution. None of the Bubbles extend into a game session, so you two would be forced to part ways with them before they entered."

Tavros paused, soaking in all in. It was an even odder situation than before, but there had to be something to do. Besides dick around and wait to be destroyed by a demon that is. Speaking of which. "Do either of you know anything about the giant green guy that did that?" He said, pointing to the giant hole in the sky.

"Nope, can't say I do." Aradia said chipperly, beaming. Sollux just shrugged and gave a vague grunt.

"Ok, well that's a thing to consider. A buff green guy did that and is going around killing dead people so we might want to keep our eyes peeled for that. Between that and the Horror-Terrors having 'plans' for us I think we could use, I don't know, strength in numbers? Who else is dead that we could meet up with?

Aradia pondered the question for a moment. "Well when we were at the Green Sun the dead included Equius, Nepeta, Feferi, Eridan, you, and Sollux." She said, motioning to Tavros and Sollux at the end.

"A smallish problem is that we don't really know where any of them are." Said Sollux "We came across you on accident." Aradia shot Sollux a look that he ignored and he continued talking. "Are you really going to have us go on some sort of half-assed quest? We're dead. This is literally it. And between the three of us, some of our dead friends are probably better left alone. I'm talking about Eridan, by the way."

"No, yea I get that." Tavros replied. "But like what if, through like, The Power Of Friendship, we all came together and did… something?"

"I think you tanked it at the end there my dude." Chided Sollux.

"I think it's a great idea; pick a direction!" Said Aradia, appearing to snap out of whatever funk had washed over her. She did a little twirl, pointing in the direction she stopped.

Tavros looked towards where Aradia was pointing. As far as directions went it was more than he had. It had a few pluses; it was away from where he had encountered the demon. And he didn't think he'd been that way before? He'd gotten a little turned around. "Ok, we go that way I guess."

"Nice!" Exclaimed Aradia, pumping her arm.

The trio walked off. Off to find their friends. Off to serve Friendship. Off to do… something.

Sollux asked the pertinent question. "Why the hell are we walking? We can fly."