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it was another boring, bland day, and bridge was lazily watching the birds flit around the tree outside his window. his new- actually, was it new at this point?- old status as a ghost meant that the entire world was locked away. except for bad and whatever he kept trying to interact with. but being able to interact with something took time, and he didn’t have the motivation to keep trying for so long.
maybe he’d try to do more today. bad had sneakily left earlier and bridge didn’t feel like trying to find him. that left bridge stuck at home, bored as shit, staring at the birds.
interacting with things. he could open the window. he might be able to climb the tree. maybe the birds won’t be able to see him.
without anymore thought, bridge pushed open the window and climbed through. the tree didn’t look to be that far of a jump. would it hurt if he fell? he hasn’t tested it yet.
he looked between the nearest branch and the window he was currently hanging off of, and impulsively jumped. he managed to catch the branch, but now was hanging off of it. not on top of it. maybe he could pull himself up, but he’s never been strong. there are other branches near the trunk of the tree he could use like a ladder, though.
after a bit of annoying moving on the tree, he makes it close to the trunk and pulls himself on top of the branch. he sits there for a moment, out of breath and tired. which feels vaguely wrong, like he’s disconnected from the feeling. ugh, he hates being a ghost.
after a second, he looks around the tree to see if the birds had noticed him. they hadn’t. they were still peacefully chirping and hopping around. bridge smiled.
he climbed closer to one of the birds. this one was hopping around quite a bit, so he waited until it settled down before he tried to grab it. the bird calmed down, and he reached to grab it.
his hands passed through the bird with the same painful glitchy feeling that happens whenever he tries to interact with something. the bird was entirely unaffected, of course. fine. this was going to take a bit, but he was going to catch one of these birds.
…
”what are you doing?”
bridge looked down from his spot in the tree to see bad looking at him, absolutely confused.
“catching birds,” bridge replied, turning back to the bird he had been trying to catch. he reached for it again, and surprisingly, he caught it. he looked back at bad. “you want one?”
”why- you’re so weird.”
bridge glared at him. “you’re weirder. fine then. this bird is mine.”
bad just shook his head and went inside. bridge looked at the bird. it was surprisingly chill being held. “i think you could be the inverted version of me. you’re much cooler.”