Work Text:
"...And thus, you have your proof! Adam Sandler is a member of a cult and to deny it would be ignorance!Aaaaaaaaaand post!"
Swain was sitting at the bench near the watchtower, laptop on lap. These Tumblr amateurs really believed that their shitty actor was nothing more than that? HAH! Being a member of the Collective had opened and tainted his mind, giving him vast amounts of knowledge. He let out a yawn and set it aside, getting up to stretch.
His stomach rumbled. Oh boy, typing up a giant essay that nobody cares about sure did work up an appetite! Without another thought, he phased himself to the nearest 7-Eleven. Who knows what he would find?
(And thus, the events of Swain's Cake happened. Go read it.)
The Lover stood weary against a tree, clothes torn and dusty and mask damaged and bloody. Deadhead was crawling away on the ground, equally bruised. "Scheißkopf!" he yelled.
"Boney bastard!"
Swain kneeled down on the boardwalk, holding the smushed remains of his hard-earned cake. It was tainted with mud, bugs and leaves; he fell to the ground, sobbing. Why do bad things happen to good people? He picked himself back up, dusting off his jacket before realising he hadn't cleaned his hands. Frustrated, injured and covered in dirt and cake, he hobbled back to the bench.
Upon making it back, he gasped. His laptop...was missing! Someone had their hands on his precious laptop! If someone found the digital copy of his Journal, it'd be a disaster! But...if someone found his collection of Sonic x Spiderman fanfiction and art, it would be a full-blown catastrophe! Without a moment to lose, he ran frantically through his home.
First, he went to the pier. There, he found Deadhead and Cursor playing Gin over a bottle of Jack Daniels. The Nationalist looked up, pissed off. "What do YOU want, prick?"
"Where is my fucking laptop?!" He screeched.
Deadhead shrugged. "How should I know? I'm busy with important stuff."
Cursor threw down her cards, cackling. "GIN! THE BOTTLE IS MINE!" She swiped the bottle, cradling it like a baby.
He leaned forward, studying the cards. They were just randoms cards put together, one of them a Blue-Eyes White Dragon. "Dammit" he groaned, "you can't see shit. Give it back."
"No."
Swain stepped away, continuing his search as the two wrestled for the bottle. As he was leaving, he could hear a loud splash. Perfect.
Next, he went to the car park. Mr Scars was sitting on the hood of a car, smoking. Cigarette smoke seeped out of the wound in his throat.
"Hello, my child!" Swain approached the car, leaning casually on the mirror. "How ae you today?"
"Feeling shitty" he rasped. "Like always."
"Cool, cool..."
The silence was long and awkward, as they both loitered in silence as a backwards version of the Death Knees Remix of Cha Cha Slide played in the background.
"So...do you have my laptop?"
"Hah, hell no. I don't want to see your shitty blog, let alone have your laptop." He took a long drag, blowing smoke rings out of his throat.
The Lover stood in silence, Karate chopping the mirror off of the car in frustration. He let out his famous Lover's Screech and ran back into the boardwalk like the anime trash he was.
So, Persolus was too old to know how to use a laptop, Firebrand was nowhere in sight and the Observer was busy tormenting the young Maxwell. So...where was his laptop? He walked along the path, fixated on the floor and lost in thought until...
"Heyyyyyyy sexy boy~!" An unfamiliar voice cooed. "Ya looking for something?"
His neck jerked up. Before him stood Noah, except he seemed off. He looked very unkempt, his hair was thick and bushy and he had an intimidating aura radiating from him. In his hands was Swain's laptop. He smiled.
"My laptop! You swine, give it back!"
"Eh?" Prebrand raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you want your Tumblr back? I wouldn't want to if I were you, a LOT of people are asking why you put your weird smut online."
Blood drained from Swain's everything. The world...knew about his obsession. He was the laughing stock of the whole Slenderverse. And this potential collection of fanfics was not helping. His hands trembled, balling up into fists. He ran towards the cursed child, letting loose his Lover's Screech as he was preparing his ultimate move.
SWAIN SMASH: A Dark-type physical move with 150 Power and 85% accuracy with a high chance to inflict a critical hit.
There was 15 feet between Prebrand and Swain and it was getting shorter very fast. It was all over.
Unless...
Without warning, Prebrand's Stand appeared.
[Stand Name: Vordhosbn]
Stand Ability: [Magic Wave Emission]
Power - A
Speed - E
Range - A
Durability - A
Precision - C
Potential - D
"胃のお尻のお尻を持ってみましょう!" Prebrand yelled, pointing at his opponent.
It raised its flat palm, forcing out a high-speed ball of energy. Swain stood no chance, as it connected with his chest. He was knocked back with such speed and intensity that it ripped a whole in his dimension, banishing him to another world.
"...Alright, that's the last of the footage for my special ending. Time to get home."
Adam Rosner was walking back to his car, camera in hand. He was grinning to himself, happy and tired. He had spent the last fewdays getting the final bits of footage for his passion project's ending and had spent the last several days filming it all. Now to get home, work his magic and-
A sonicboom rang through the air and something blurry rushed past him, colliding into the front window of his car.
"Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck" he ran towards it, panicking. What was that?!
He couldn't believe his eyes: Swain had crashed into it ass-first. He turned to Adam and waved anxiously. "It's a long story!" He shrugged, canned laughter erupting from what was supposed to be the live studio audience of The Big Bang Theory.
[Insert Seinfeld theme here]