*Holds Dave Panpa over my head Lion King style* Here comes the boy~! Hello boy~ Welcome~ Here he is~ He is here~!

Anyway, it's Monday again, so you know what that means: more Backrooms! More liminal spaces! More... romance? Nah, couldn't be me. Anyway, I won't keep you, so let's get started! See you at the bottom of the page!

Oasis (noun): A fertile spot in a desert where water is found; also, a safe place hidden in the middle of danger.

Dave tripped over his own feet and collapsed onto the floor. He didn't get up right away.

Everything hurt. His head felt cloudy and heavy, his throat itched and prickled with dryness, his stomach was hollow and noisy, and every inch of his legs was sore from hours of walking. At some point, he'd forgotten to be afraid of the dark, trudging mindlessly along the yellow wall to his right like a zombie. Unlike a zombie, though, Dave at least had enough brains to realize that enough was enough.

He moaned pitifully and curled in on his side. This awful place was way too big and empty, and he was getting nowhere fast. Maybe he'd misremembered Rupert's advice about maze solving, but he'd been sticking to that "Right Hand Plan" for so long that the thought of stopping now hurt almost as much as his whole body. What if he was super close to the exit, and changing things up kept him from leaving? Or what if, like the last hundred times Dave had asked the first what if, there was still. No. Exit?

Dave was done. He was tired, hungry, thirsty, and sore, and his body didn't have the strength to keep moving like he had been. He needed a nap. A long nap. A whole night's sleep, even; or a week, or a month, or a hundred years…

Using his arm as a pillow, Dave closed his eyes and tried to tune out the constant buzz of the lights overhead. Just one… quick… nap…

.

.

.

Dave shot up in a cold sweat and whipped his head around. This place was driving him crazy; he could have sworn that something had just rushed past him, something big and fast, but there was still no one here.

No, wait, over there; he could see… something.

He crawled on his hands and knees towards the fuzzy black object near the corner of the room. It almost looked like a kitten, but no: it quickly became apparent that this was just a large patch of mold that was shaped like a kitten.

A part of Dave wanted to cry. Even if a kitten couldn't talk, the thought of having something small and soft and alive to hang out with had filled him with so much hope. The disappointment was crushing.

Flashlight still in hand, Dave jabbed it at the mold in a fit of frustration. Part of the mold came off, stretching for a moment before snapping away. The mold that remained on his flashlight was only fuzzy on the outside; the inside, which seemed to be the source of the mold, was something black that had congealed thickly into tiny blobs of goo. Some of the fuzz stuck out of the substance like individual hairs. And the smell…

Dave gagged and wiped his flashlight on a clean spot of the carpet. It smelled old, damp, and sour, with a startlingly sharp hint of metal that made his mouth water unpleasantly. Dave swallowed it back down with effort. As tempting as it was, this building still belonged to someone (presumably), and spitting up all over their carpet would be just plain rude.

He crawled backwards, away from the mold, until his back hit a different wall. He sighed and bumped the back of his head firmly against it, muttering a small "ow" at the pain that followed. The smell lingered in the back of his throat, and he shut his eyes tightly, wishing he could wash it all away with a big glass of water. Honestly, he could probably use a shower, too. A Toppat had given him a pack of wet wipes once, probably out of pity, but that was absolutely not the same as a proper shower, with soap and warm water. Or cold water. Or any water at all.

God, he was so thirsty. He could practically imagine the smell of water: a lush scent, warm and humid and filling-

Dave blinked his eyes open. There was a slight shift in the air; not quite a wind, but movement, temperature, and humidity. He pulled himself to his feet and staggered in the direction of the movement; the air was growing thick and humid, and he turned a corner to see a brand new room.

The difference was startling. Where the previous hallways and rooms were yellow and moldy and aged, this room was covered floor to ceiling with impossibly white bath tiles. A small set of steps near the center of the room led down to a narrow canal filled with deep, beautiful water.

Dave scrambled over to the stairs, nearly smacking his head on the tile when he tripped, diving his hands towards the mirror-smooth surface-

And stopped just before he hit the water.

He and Rupert had been boy scouts when they were little, and one of the first things they'd learned in survival training was not to blindly trust water sources. Water could look as clear as crystal, but it could be full of things that would make him sick, like chemicals and gross bugs. Stillwater especially was a no-go, because if something was spilled into it, it wouldn't get washed away in the current, and Dave had never seen water as still as this before.

His hands trembled just over the surface. He was so thirsty, but could he take the risk? What if there was something bad in there, like that mold he'd seen moments before?

Dave barely held back a retch, looking longingly into his own reflection. He looked tired, sick, and filthy. His resolve was slipping.

He gingerly dipped a finger into the water and brought it back out, sniffing it carefully before giving it a tentative lick. It tasted… like water.

Good enough.

Dave cupped his hands and shoveled water into his mouth from the canal, splashing the pristine tiles and soaking his ratty security uniform completely. The water sloshed back and forth with his frantic movements, noisily slapping the walls and stairs and anything it reached like claps of thunder.

Finally, finally satisfied, Dave lay flat on his back, taking in deep breaths of the humid air as he stared up at the ceiling, half-laughing and half-crying under the bright white lights. This wasn't an exit, but it could lead to one. He was finally making progress, and it would only be a matter of time until he escaped this place. He was certain of it.

Dave sat up slowly, looking from left to right. The canal was a straight line going in just those two directions. Well, it was certainly more straightforward than the yellow place had been, and he wouldn't have to worry about getting thirsty again, either.

Dave carefully descended the stairs, leaning heavily against the wall for stability. The water ended about halfway under his knees. It would be a bit of a workout, but plenty doable. Pressing his hand to the wall on his right, he began to slosh down the canal, his thirst quenched and his mood brightened once more.

Hooray! Things are finally looking up for Dave! He's got all the water he wants and more, plus a new path forward! But you know what they say: be careful what you wish for, because you might get it...

...Wait what? Sorry I got distracted.

Anyway, Dave and Rupert in the scouts! Rupert was definitely the one to convince Dave to join, and while they did some activities and lessons together (like survival training), Dave was probably more interested in craft-type activities like wood carving and knot tying while Rupert probably focused more on things like rock climbing and big tough guy activities like that. I was definitely never a scout of any sort and cannot vouch for it, but I'm sure they had fun!

Enter the Poolrooms! Finally, a change of scenery! You're probably worried that Dave will get bored of these new surroundings soon... but don't worry! He'll be kept plenty busy; I'll make sure of it... ;)

Blob of mold: *exists*

Me: Well that was wacky. Anyway- (gets hit by a car)

Alright, enough of all that. I'll be back next week for the next update, featuring Rupert and his crippling mental illnesses! Whee! Leave a review and tell me what you thought of this one, and I'll see you later. Until then!