Tommy sighed as he faced the other 'hims' that were sitting in the room with him. One was a figure skater who had a bad coach before meeting Wilbur, Techno and Phil and the team they were a part of, a Hockey Team as he heard. Another was a prince who was young and just wanted to go back to bed before he dealt with anything around him. And there's another one that mentioned he lived with 'Cryptids', monstrous beings that had a soft spot for him.

He wondered how Wilbur was faring seeing a monstrous version of himself, seeing as Wilbur had been struggling with his image recently as an artist and his music.

"So what? We are all the same person but from different realities? Dimensions?" A vigilante version of himself asked, the mask was off as they all looked the same. A version of him that had tattoos on his arms and piercing's in his ears and one on his lip, scoffed in disbelief as he looked around the room.

"That's got to be absolute bullshit, and I am actually just having a fever dream right now." He nodded to himself, his hair was blonde, but he had some streaks. One Pink spot, one brown spot, one white spot and one blue and green spot. LIke he was remembering someone, er, multiple someone's that had left him or had died.

"It's not that hard to believe where I come from." The Prince version of him responded, if Tommy guessed right, he seemed almost like he was 12 or 13. Some of the versions look at him confused and he sighed, rolling his eyes as he pulled out a book from his bag. It was a dark brown, almost black, with a red and white feather on the cover and along the spine.

"I am a Reality Jumper, I go to different realities and live their lives for a couple days to help them achieve a goal or dream they had. Knowing my luck, I've probably lived your life at some point." He explained, and Tommy felt himself get thrown off. Was it possible that this version of him lived his life at any point in time?

"Do you know who's life you've lived? That are like, in this room?" He asked, curiosity leaking off his tone in waves as his fingers twitched. He wanted to be painting, not sitting still talking to people. He guessed that's where he and Wilbur were similar, always wanting to work or in their own studios. Wilbur was always writing lyrics, or humming or singing lyrics under his breath or strumming his guitar. Tommy was always painting, always drawing, always being creative in that way.

Techno's would have, had once been, the same. Always writing, always finding some way to create a character and always taking inspiration from real life. Tommy suppose he inspired it in himself and WIlbur.

"Hmm..." The Prince looked at him, analysing him and recognition flooded his face and Tommy knew then. "Yours, yes. I've lived yours. Is Techno still sick?" He asked, his voice was hesitant when he asked, and Tommy assumed that even though he didn't live with the rest of their family, he was still family to Techno, Wil and Phil.

"No... He died on November 19th." Tommy responded, biting back the tears at remembering his brother's passing. "He uh..." Tommy took a breath, a shaky one, but still a breath. "He finished his novel at least. But, he never got to publish it. Wil and I are too scared to publish it for him. Though, it's written in his will that we can publish it and live off the earnings it brings." He explained and The prince's eyes were saddened.

"I'm so sorry about... About his passing. I... I was there for about a week beforehand, then." Tommy was unnerved that he didn't even notice.

"So... you have shared memories with whomever you live the life of?" One of the versions asked, his hair was blonde and blowing in a non existent wind. His ears were sharpened and his eyes just a bit too bright, teeth just a bit too sharp. If Tommy remembered correctly, he was the Fae version of himself.

"Yup." The prince nodded, sitting on the armchair as other versions sat around. Breaths almost matched perfectly as they all took in that this was what they were faced with right now. They weren't able to leave, as far as they knew, and they didn't know how to wake themselves up.

"Dear gods... Fuck I need a coke." One of them, a racer if the jacket was anything to go by, groaned as he relaxed in a hammock that was there. Tommy didn't know how many versions of himself were here. He knew of the Fae, The Prince, the Racer, a Tattoo artist, child of the cryptids, Baker, Skater, and Gymnast version of himself, but he knew that there were probably a couple more that he missed.

"Well... better get comfortable, we may be here awhile... And without coke too." Tommy felt himself groan at the mention of not having coke for however long they were stuck here.