Chapter Text
A young ghost troll sits by her lonesome, contemplating her afterlife after death, soon to be rudely interrupted by the call to a destiny as the catalyst in a session she’s unknowingly doomed thousands of times over. Of course, she’s unaware of this, so when she’s greeted with the powerful zap of a stranger in blue pajamas popping into existence nearby, she can do little more than sit and stare. Bristled with breath stalled, she tries to process the someone who is very much not a troll hovering several feet away. He glances around curiously until meeting her gaze.
Each of them blinks once.
Then he waves. “Hi, Aranea!”
Bewildered, the girl returns his wave. “Oh, uhm. Hi! Have we... Have we met?”
His smile falters at that. “Oh. Uhm... I guess not? Not yet, anyway.”
Predictably, she looks baffled at his reply. They stare at each other for a few moments longer, until the stranger’s brow furrows curiously. “Hm, that’s weird,” he remarks suddenly.
“What is?”
“I think I was doing some weird rapid-fire teleportation through space and time just now, but it looks like I’m not immediately zapping away this time,” he explains a little too nonchalantly for either of their tastes. He gives the place a once over before floating over to where the troll sits. “Can I sit with you?”
“Uh, of course!” She makes a move to scoot over before realizing it’s unnecessary. When he’s gotten comfortable about a foot away, he turns back to face her. “Since it looks like we haven’t met yet from your perspective, I’m John.”
“John,” she repeats. Momentarily, she asks, “What do you mean, ‘from my perspective?’”
He gives pause, seemingly discerning the best way to answer. “Well, from where I’m standing, I was treasure hunting with you, Vriska, and some other trolls just a few minutes ago. ...Wait. You know Vriska, right? Have you two met yet?”
She shakes her head. “I’m afraid not.”
“Oh. Well. She's like your descendant, I guess? From a different universe. Looks just like you, except she has long hair.”
Aranea stares at him in disbelief, as if trying to absorb and trust that the boy sitting beside her is actually there. Blinking, she shakes her head. “You’ll have to forgive me, but everything you’ve said is a bit difficult to swallow. You don’t appear to be dead. Are you dreaming?”
John shrugs. “Don’t think so. I mean... I was asleep earlier, but I’m pretty confident this is me awake right now. As far as I can tell, I think I just touched something I wasn’t supposed to and now everything feels... What word did she use that time? Meta... Metaphysical?”
“Like abstract?” the other offers. He snaps his fingers. “Yes, exactly!”
“What did you touch?”
“Well, we were treasure hunting and,” he starts, making vague gestures with his arms. “We found this chest, and the thing inside of it was some kind of powerful juju? Actually now that I think about it, it looked kinda familiar. Vriska said it was super important but that we couldn’t touch it. But I thought I was safe because at the time, I was the dream hologram version of myself, ya know? So I just went ahead and stuck my hand in it and then...”
He hesitates, then groans and aggressively scratches his head with both hands. “Agghh! I don’t get what happened! Why is everything so abstract?!”
Aranea hums thoughtfully, excitedly. “Well, this all sounds awfully fascinating! You’ve roused my curiosity, John. I’d love nothing more than to assist your recollection however I can. If you’d like, I might be able to assuage the conception of your recent experiences.”
She reaches toward him, halting a few inches from his face.
“May I?”
John’s eyes flick between her fingers to her face as his hands fall. Not long later, he nods.
Slowly, her hand rises until her palm is firmly pressed against his forehead—
—and barely a second later do they blow apart, each landing hard on their backs.
John clutches his head hard, fingers digging into his scalp as he gasps through the pain. Just several feet away, Aranea does the same.
There’s too much. Too many. God, there’s just so much more than there should be, and nothing’s clear. What is he seeing? So much of it is unfamiliar but feels like it should be? He was there, but he wasn’t. He’s talked to them, but he’s never seen them before.
What are these experiences??
John is still writhing when a bright light engulfs him, and then he’s gone.
> Sometime later, inside another dream bubble...
Bewildered, the girl returns his wave. “Oh, uhm. Hi! Have we... Have we met?” His smile falters at that. “Oh. Uhm... I guess not? Not yet, anyway.” Predictably, she looks baffled at his reply. They stare at each other for a few moments longer, until the stranger’s brow furrows curiously. “Hm, that’s weird,” he remarks suddenly. “What is?” “I think I was doing some weird rapid-fire teleportation through space and time just now, but it looks like I’m not immediately zapping away this time,” he explains a little too nonchalantly for either of their tastes. He gives the place a once over before floating over to where the troll sits. “Can I sit with you?” “Uh, of course!” She makes a move to scoot over before realizing it’s unnecessary. When he’s gotten comfortable about a foot away, he turns back to face her. “Since it looks like we haven’t met yet from your perspective, I’m John.” “John,” she repeats. Momentarily, she asks, “What do you mean, ‘from my perspective?’” He gives pause, seemingly discerning the best way to answer. “Well, from where I’m standing, I was treasure hunting with you, Vriska, and some other trolls just a few minutes ago. ...Wait. You know Vriska, right? Have you two met yet?” She shakes her head. “I’m afraid not.” “Oh. Well. She's like your descendant, I guess? From a different universe. Looks just like you, except she has long hair.” Aranea stares at him in disbelief, as if trying to absorb and trust that the boy sitting beside her is actually there. Blinking, she shakes her head. “You’ll have to forgive me, but everything you’ve said is a bit difficult to swallow. You don’t appear to be dead. Are you dreaming?” John shrugs. “Don’t think so. I mean... I was asleep earlier, but I’m pretty confident this is me awake right now. As far as I can tell, I think I just touched something I wasn’t supposed to and now everything feels... What word did she use that time? Meta... Metaphysical?” “Like abstract?” the other offers. He snaps his fingers. “Yes, exactly!” “What did you touch?” “Well, we were treasure hunting and,” he starts, making vague gestures with his arms. “We found this chest, and the thing inside of it was some kind of powerful juju? Actually now that I think about it, it looked kinda familiar. Vriska said it was super important but that we couldn’t touch it. But I thought I was safe because at the time, I was the dream hologram version of myself, ya know? So I just went ahead and stuck my hand in it and then...” He hesitates, then groans and aggressively scratches his head with both hands. “Agghh! I don’t get what happened! Why is everything so abstract?!” Aranea hums thoughtfully, excitedly. “Well, this all sounds awfully fascinating! You’ve roused my curiosity, John. I’d love nothing more than to assist your recollection however I can. If you’d like, I might be able to assuage the conception of your recent experiences.” She reaches toward him, halting a few inches from his face. “May I?” John’s eyes flick between her fingers to her face as his hands fall. Not long later, he nods. Slowly, her hand rises until her palm is firmly pressed against his forehead— —and barely a second later do they blow apart, each landing hard on their backs. John clutches his head hard, fingers digging into his scalp as he gasps through the pain. Just several feet away, Aranea does the same. There’s too much. Too many. God, there’s just so much more than there should be, and nothing’s clear. What is he seeing? So much of it is unfamiliar but feels like it should be? He was there, but he wasn’t. He’s talked to them, but he’s never seen them before. What are these experiences?? John is still writhing when a bright light engulfs him, and then he’s gone.