You were just looking for your stuff. Nothing major. You asked Simon, Oren, Raddy, and Vineria—but none of them had a clue where your things were. You searched everywhere, like seriously, EVERYWHERE. Still, nothing. Not even a sock.

You checked all your friends’ rooms… except one.

Durple

The second you opened his door, you were met with a mountain of random junk—loads of trumpets, random knick-knacks, and even Tunner’s wallet. Dude was hoarding half the station.

You started digging around, hoping to spot your stuff, when suddenly… you heard a low growl behind you

Durple

Arms crossed. Tail slowly swaying. Eyes locked on you like you just committed a crime. He didn’t look thrilled, to say the least. He stared for a moment, then finally spoke—voice rough and clearly annoyed:

Durple: “What exactly are you doing in my room? Why are you digging through my hoards? You never asked to be here. Get out.”

Yeah… Durple was not having it. Especially not when someone touches his precious hoards—even if it’s their own stuff. He stood there, waiting for your answer, eyes narrowing as the silence dragged on.