[Stanley wouldn't have to wait for reassurance long. Even if Bill couldn't hope to be normal in any capacity, one critical difference sets his dreamscape apart from the countless others.
It's the only dream that's falling apart.
His feet may feel stable beneath him, but soon enough Stan will realize he isn't on any surface at all, he has stepped onto an open multicolored sky, the vertigo compelling one to fall through simmering just below the surface.
At the farthest edges of every horizon, patches of world fade into obscurity, not white, not void, just nothing. Dotting across the landscape, shapes shift from two dimensional and three dimension blocks. Sharp chunks of the backdrop hang suspended in midair, as if someone used the cutout tool in Paint, shifted them two inches to the left and overlapped them without any concept of depth perception. Absurd, nearly invisible-- nevertheless sharp.
And once Stanley looks up, he'll see it.
The shack.
Its truly been gutted; pieces of the portal from the basement and the entire staircase flat out ripped from the structure, descending in a nonsensical torrent to the "ground" where Stanley presently stands, like a stationary tornado. Finally atop the dilapidated wooden structure shines a golden light, impressively brighter than the already obnoxiously saturated sky.
It wouldn't be wise to stare too long, however, Stan might miss the "S" from the building dislodge itself without warning to hurtle down at him at rampant speed.]
D.) Sweet dreams aren't made of this~
It's the only dream that's falling apart.
His feet may feel stable beneath him, but soon enough Stan will realize he isn't on any surface at all, he has stepped onto an open multicolored sky, the vertigo compelling one to fall through simmering just below the surface.
At the farthest edges of every horizon, patches of world fade into obscurity, not white, not void, just nothing. Dotting across the landscape, shapes shift from two dimensional and three dimension blocks. Sharp chunks of the backdrop hang suspended in midair, as if someone used the cutout tool in Paint, shifted them two inches to the left and overlapped them without any concept of depth perception. Absurd, nearly invisible-- nevertheless sharp.
And once Stanley looks up, he'll see it.
The shack.
Its truly been gutted; pieces of the portal from the basement and the entire staircase flat out ripped from the structure, descending in a nonsensical torrent to the "ground" where Stanley presently stands, like a stationary tornado. Finally atop the dilapidated wooden structure shines a golden light, impressively brighter than the already obnoxiously saturated sky.
It wouldn't be wise to stare too long, however, Stan might miss the "S" from the building dislodge itself without warning to hurtle down at him at rampant speed.]