He tries wiping his face again with a couple of sniffles.

He looks up at you with a startled expression, causing you to wave your wings around defensively.

He thinks to himself for a few moments.

You nod, giving him a pat on the back before getting up...

...and heading outside the tent.

Roulette is just next to the entrance.

It's standing perfectly still; sickle in one claw, touching down to the grass.
The robot is staring off into the distance at nothing.
You've spent enough time around it to notice that its lens looks different, somehow; almost Vacant, in a sense.

You approach slowly, the snow crunching under your boots.

It answers a bit too quickly, without looking at you.

It doesn't respond.

You blink, unsure what to do.

It...did say we could talk, so...

It adjusts its position very slightly, looking uncomfortable.
The bot's claw squeezes its sickle a little tighter.

The robot looks away from you a few moments, as if self-conscious.

The robot pauses, looking down in thought, before returning its gaze to the distance ahead.

You rock back and forth on your heels, a bit.

You make some useless hand gestures.

The bot's fans spin faster.

You nod, standing there awkwardly before giving a little wave and turning around.

Walking towards Devo feels like a weight settling in your belly, making your nerves go on high alert. He's sitting and staring out into the distance just like Roulette, not even noticing you as you approach from the side.

As you get closer, you can see his red accents-

-and the fact that like Tim, he'd also been crying.

He doesn't bother to wipe his face, though.

Even with his harsh words, he sounds, more....

...lonely.

He just gives you a dull stare, his face still tear-streaked.

His voice is- you're dead certain of it now, that's the "red voice" from your dream. Even without the frantic tone you heard the night before, that's it.

Not sure what to make of that, but...uh...let's see what we can achieve here.

His voice is cold.

You blink.

Devo pales, looking away and scrunching up with his legs against his chest.

Despite the nerves in your belly getting worse, you sit down slowly, the snow crunching under you as you do.

His eyes trail back over to you.

He turns to face you fully, his eyes fierce.

....
.....
.....I...
I may not...have words for it-

You think about the Devo in your dream, covered in multicolored string.

But maybe I do know.

His gaze doesn't break.

...I can't just let this get worse.
There's so much on the line.
We can't fall apart now.

You meet his stare.

He doesn't move, not even blinking.

His red stare feels like daggers against your throat, challenging you to say the wrong thing.

There's a moment of surprise on his face, breaking the gaze for just a moment-

But when he looks away, there's just a bitter laugh.

He looks back at you with a completely different look now, his red eyes now full of...exhaustion.

Something changes in his voice, just slightly.

A little more, a slight intake of breath.

You realize that there's tear embroidery at the corners of his eyes.

You reach out for a moment before pulling back, remembering his reaction to Tim.

The red bear is clearly barely holding it together, doing his best to keep a stern look on his face.

He doesn't speak, completely silent until a loud string of sniffles break through.

The soft sob that escapes as he buries his face away from you, deep into his knees, is enough to make your chest ache.

He trails off, as if the words are too painful to say.

He's quiet, trying to let himself get a grip.

It's a while before he speaks again, his voice back to that exhausted state.

The red bear peeks up from his knees.

She wipes her face, trying to look more composed.

He looks away, thinking it over.

The bear's quiet again.

Her voice softens at the sound of his name, a tone that reminds you of how you talk about Cross.

She scoffs.

She waves a paw, not quite dismissively so much as with the body language of someone about to settle down for a gossip session.

She laughs, tipping her head back and sounding entirely bitter.

She makes a face.

Fatale huffs, rolling her eyes.

Her voice turns pained.

Even more strained, now, her voice dropping down to a mumble.

She glances up at you.

She laughs to herself, looking off into the distance.

You rub your temple, already feeling a headache coming on.

She rocks back and forth as she thinks it over.

She leans back, nodding.

The red bear makes a scrunched up face.

She's quiet again, putting her mittened hand in the snow and fiddling with it.

She doesn't make eye contact.

She tips her head back and continues to groan before sighing and flopping forward.

She pales.

Her face scrunches up, displeased.

She nods, going back to fiddling with the snow.

Tim and Cross are sitting by the fire inside, Cross with her hand on Tim's knee. By the look of it, the two of them have been talking as well.

Tim's ears perk up when you enter, and Cross lets out a startled beep.

You turn to Tim, taking a look at your friend's face. His tears had dried up since talking with you, likely helped by Cross' support as well.

You sigh, relenting.

He gets up slowly, heading for the tent entrance with a sluggish step.

With that, he's out of the tent, leaving you and Cross.

Tim's chest tightens as he spots her, sitting there off to the side- both toys flinching when they make eye contact.

Even so, he trudges forward, up until he gets a foot or so away from the red bear.

Her eyes widen, turning to face him.

He sits down in the snow, his paws in his lap.

Fatale's stunned, staring at him with wide eyes.

She takes a deep breath, visibly struggling with her words.

Small embroidered sweat drops appear on her brow.

She bristles, Tim flinching away and raising his paws up apologetically.

She presses a paw to her temple, struggling.

Fatale gives him a blank stare, unable to feign recognition.

Tim slumps.

She sputters.

The words won't come, her tone getting increasingly more frustrated.

Tim doesn't say anything, his face growing more and more concerned.

She can't help but laugh, just as bitter as it was while talking to Polka.

Tim blinks, not sure if he heard correctly.

The words sink in, Tim processing them with gears visibly grinding in his head.

It clicks.

The scottie dog groans, placing his face in his hands.

He's struggling, fumbling over his words.

Fatale's quiet for a few moments, taking in his mess of a reaction.

She can't keep the malice from sinking into her voice, Tim wincing.

Another wince from Tim.

Tim nods, still looking rather stunned.

His face heats up.

She can't help but throw her head back and laugh, gleeful this time.

She points to her red cheek markings.

He gives an affirmative nod, looking intimidated but assured.

The door of the tent unzips, Tim and Fatale stepping inside. The bear's putting some distance between herself and the scottie dog, sitting on the same campfire seat as Tim- but a good bit apart.

You give your partner's hand a pat as you get up and poke your head outside.

It doesn't look up.

The robot turns to look at you, very briefly.

It says nothing as it makes its way cautiously inside.

You try to ignore the nerves building in your chest, making you feel sick.

H...here we go.

Fatale glances up at Roulette as it makes its way in, her eyes...you swear you can make out some degree of remorse.

It glances about the tent, not making eye contact with anyone,
waiting for someone to speak.

Fatale clears her throat.

Words stutter out, clearly struggling.

She huffs, gripping the seat with her plush paws.

Her eyes trail over to Roulette, words still spilling out before anyone can get a word in edgewise.

Roulette's lens widens slowly.

It looks up in time to see that Fatale is looking at /it/.

The robot looks back at the floor.

She huffs, rubbing the side of her face.

She raises a paw to shush you, turning back to Roulette.

You can hear its fans spinning up louder, but it doesn't respond directly.

She waits for a response, before sighing.

She snaps her fingers.

She glances over at Roulette again before looking away.

She sighs, not without fondness to it.

She seems more confident, saying it this time.

She scoffs.

The bear gestures dramatically to Tim.

Fatale snaps her head around.

Roulette flinches, putting its gaze back to the floor.

Her expression seems...shocked.

Its fans whirr faster.

It trails off, and doesn't continue.

She doesn't elaborate, lost in thought.

Fatale shoots him a dirty look, the dog shutting up.