Chapter 1: Spawn
Chapter Text
One moment Ranboo had been chilling with Tubbo and Tommy at home after quite an eventful day and the next he felt a strong pull and, suddenly, he popped up somewhere completely different. Gone were the warm wooden walls of the mansion, he was now in a grassy field that he didn’t recognize with no human-made structures in sight.
His first assumption was that he must have fallen asleep at some point while relaxing and then his enderwalking state must have kicked in. But even that didn’t make a lick of sense. He was far clingier when enderwalking, if it kicked in while he had Tommy and Tubbo sprawled across him he would have just hugged them tight and teleported them to the master bedroom so they could all be more comfortable and he would have continued snuggling them there. He wouldn’t have just left them alone and traveled who knows how far away from them for no reason!
There wasn’t even a sign anywhere from Other Him to try and explain the situation, which was a rather effective method they’d been establishing lately to avoid unpleasant surprises.
Looking down at himself to try and find his communicator revealed that, not only was his location different, but his clothing was too. Instead of his usual dark gray suit and black dress shoes, he was wearing tall sleek black boots with a golden trim that curled in the shape of an eye on the front, tights with one white and one black leg, a white poet shirt with a fancy dovetail tuxedo blazer over it, which also had some golden trims that mirrored those on the boots, and a one-shoulder black and gold cape held together at the front by an ender eye pin.
The whole getup was so cumbersome that he would never have chosen it for himself. He didn’t even have anything like it in his closet at home. Nor did Tommy or Tubbo for that matter, as the two always preferred comfort and practicality over style.
He was starting to think that whatever happened to him left him somewhere completely alien… perhaps even a new dimension. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions too early, but all the clues he’d gotten pointed to that. The pull he felt must have been the force that brought him there. He realized at that moment that whatever entity handpicked him to go to this brand-new world must have wanted something from him, and he was determined to ignore whatever that was and make his way home as quickly as possible.
He got up, dusted himself off, and started walking in a direction that should have been completely random, but immediately felt right.
It didn’t take him long to make his way out of the clearing and onto a dirt path that led him through the forest to another clearing identical to the one he had just woken up in a few minutes prior. Whoever designed that world must have been feeling a bit lazy.
At the center of this new space was someone who looked a lot like his Tommy back home. At least from the half of their face he could see, as the other half was covered in what seemed to be a half-piglin skull or something, Ranboo wasn’t an expert. However it did look like those skulls piglins would have affixed on pikes all over their temples to ward off thieves and enemies alike. The only notable difference from afar, aside from their weird getup, between this guy and his Tommy were their almost unnaturally bright and sharp purple eyes which stood in stark contrast to his Tommy’s big soulful baby blue ones.
Their clothes were similar to the overly elaborate mess Ranboo had going on, except theirs had a reddish tint all over and a giant hood that cast a shadow over their expression.
Ranboo felt an urge that wasn’t his own to move closer to this person.
A closer inspection revealed that there were still some of his Tommy’s sky blue tones in their eyes, buried closer to the pupil, which then faded into a violet ring that itself was encased in bright crimson. They were mesmerizing.
Aside from that, the other main difference Ranboo couldn’t help but notice was the rope burns just barely peeking out of their sleeves. Yet another indicator that, while they looked similar, that was not his Tommy. His Tommy had many scars littering his skin but none like those.
“Take a picture, it will last longer” the stranger piped up after an uncomfortably long silence.
Ranboo’s cheeks dusted red and green. He was about to answer when he noticed some dialogue prompts floating in front of him. His mouth wouldn’t move until he selected one. He tried to do so regardless a few times before finally admitting defeat and acknowledging the floating text.
Was he in a video game? Had all his nerd fantasies come true at once? Well, he would have appreciated that more if Tommy and Tubbo had come with… as things were he was stuck thinking that he just wanted to get back to them. He knew he wouldn’t be able to actually enjoy the experience alone after all.
Regardless, if those were the rules of the universe he had better get used to them.
His three dialogue options were:
> Sorry, your beautiful face distracted me.
> How do I take a picture?
> … [Exit Dialogue]
Ranboo cringed at the first option. Yeah, no, he’d rather avoid flirting with someone who looked so much like his best friend. The second one just made him sound incompetent… though, admittedly, in this new universe, he kinda was. And the third one just felt awkward.
Oh well. He might as well go with the least uncomfortable option.
> How do I take a picture?
The stranger busted out laughing in response. “Mate, I didn’t think you’d take me up on the offer, that’s hilarious”. Just to be even more of a dramatic prick, they wiped away a tear that wasn’t even there. “Anyway, you gotta press C to access your inventory and equip your camera. Then you just gotta point and right click. Easy right? Bet even you can do it” a little teasing grin spread across their face at the end of their speech. After a moment they added: “Though, remember, it will only work in places where the camera icon shows up” as if that crucial little piece of information was nothing but an afterthought. Secondary in importance to teasing Ranboo.
He already found them insufferable.
Following their instructions was surprisingly easy at least. Ranboo’s menu soon popped into view proudly displaying the only three items he possessed so far: a camera, something labeled a ‘fighting stick’, and a dirty bandage that supposedly still had one use left and would recover ten HP.
Truly an amazing array of junk.
He really hoped he wouldn’t have to fight in those conditions because, despite Tommy always claiming that sticks were the mightiest weapons, he was fairly certain that any random schmuck with a knife would win over him right now.
He equipped the camera and took a picture of the other guy, since there was a camera icon floating over his head, just to make sure that it would work. As soon as he did, a notification popped up in the upper right corner of his field of vision informing him that his album had been updated and his progress had been saved. He figured he’d find out how to access said album at a later date.
Three more dialogue options popped up once he was done:
> Thanks for the tip. What may I call you?
> Thanks. Do you have any other useful tips?
> … [Exit Dialogue]
Man, would one of his options always be to be rude and antisocial? That just felt wrong honestly. Especially because, while yes, the stranger was being incredibly smug and annoying about it, they had still been helpful so far.
> Thanks for the tip. What may I call you?
They jumped up, startling Ranboo enough to make him take a few steps back. Once they were standing fully, they bowed down to Ranboo in a somewhat sarcastic show of respect. “My name is Tommy, but I have a feeling that calling me that will get confusing soon enough, so you may address me as Sorcerer instead”. Sorcerer gave him a cheeky look right after, still bowed down, and added: “Or if you so wish, you can call me your beloved”.
Thankfully, no dialogue prompts popped up this time, so Ranboo happily just ignored the last comment.
Another notification appeared then to inform him that he could now try to add Sorcerer to his party. He thought it through for a few moments but ultimately decided to do it. After all, while he found the guy mildly irritating, he seemed to know a lot more about this strange new world than Ranboo did. And Ranboo needed all the help he could get to find his way back to his Tommy and Tubbo as quickly as possible. He could put up with some teasing if that's what it took.
With that decided, Ranboo stared at the notification for a good minute or so, hoping it would tell him how exactly he should go about adding someone to his party. It did not. It was just sitting there, staring at him mockingly from the corner of his field of vision.
Once more Ranboo found himself thinking that whoever coded that world needed to improve drastically at their craft because that was just a confusing mechanic.
After a couple more minutes of fruitless staring, he just sighed and went back to looking at the weird new Tommy- or Sorcerer as he’d introduced himself. Only then did the other rise from his bowing position. Weird. Did he need Ranboo’s attention on him at all times to act?
Actually, that wasn’t so different from his own Tommy now that he thought about it. Even though they clearly weren’t the same person, that fact still managed to give Ranboo a much-needed sense of familiarity. And, well, who knows… maybe if he continued down that friendly path he’d meet even more weird versions of his friends.
“Well then Ran- I mean, player. Right, you haven’t introduced yourself yet. So, what may I call you?” Sorcerer gave him a sheepish look after the small slip-up, and waved away his mistake with one of his hands in a movement reminiscent of someone trying to get rid of a bad smell. It was as if he was hoping that Ranboo would ignore it too if he did.
Ranboo wished he could call him out on it, but none of his dialogue options allowed him to.
> I’m Ranboo Underscore Innit Beloved. Would you like to join my party?
> Ranboo. Join my party.
> Uh… Ranboo. Can you give me any more useful tips?
> I don’t trust you. Just tell me where the nearest settlement is.
> … [Exit Dialogue]
Where was the option to point out that Sorcerer already knew his name? Did the entity that brought him there and possibly created the universe seriously think Ranboo would simply miss that inconsistency? How dumb did they think he was?
Or maybe it was a little Easter egg? A comment that pointed to characters in that world remembering his presence there… but then that opened up the horrifying possibility of that not being Ranboo’s first playthrough. How many times had he greeted this same NPC? How many times had he been subjected to these dreadful uninspired dialogue choices? Had he chosen the same options over and over again or had there been variations? And, most importantly, was there a way out of this loop?
Because if he really was just stuck… well that meant that he could never truly make it home. He could never see his Tommy and Tubbo again, and that was about the worst outcome he could think of.
Still, there wasn’t much he could do about it at the moment aside from giving himself an anxiety attack. So he ignored the existential dread looming over him and just chose the option that looked like the funniest.
Besides, two of them were pretty much the same only with slightly different levels of entitlement. Yet another aspect of that world that yelled laziness. But, at the very least, the result shouldn’t differ too much no matter which one of them he went with. So he could play it relatively safe.
> Ranboo. Join my party.
Sorcerer immediately began to cackle. “Oh, you crack me up!”.
As Sorcerer took his sweet time to calm down from the laughing fit, Ranboo was left to wonder if he’d been a bit too rude and that was a refusal. After all, there were more formal and polite options. He just figured that, if Sorcerer was anything like his Tommy, he would not have cared for those. Tommy always preferred when things were simple and straightforward. He always called his big brother a pretentious prick for his gratuitous use of a more flowery language.
But, then again, Sorcerer was not his Tommy. They shared half a face but, so far, that seemed to be almost all they had in common.
Still, as he calmed down, Sorcerer finally nodded. “I will join you, of course. Though, since you’ll often have to fight to add members to your party, how about we engage in a simple tutorial battle so you can learn?” there he went again, breaking the fourth wall, calling it a tutorial. This time he didn’t even try to correct his slip-up.
There was something fishy about his soon-to-be travel companion, but Ranboo couldn’t wrap his mind around what it was.
As always, he was not allowed to answer for himself. More dialogue prompts filled his vision. That would soon get annoying, it was already starting to grate on his nerves.
> * Nod *
> Sure big man! Come at me!
> I’d rather get going [Skips the tutorial]
> On second thought, I don’t know if I want you in the party… [Cancels ‘Add Party Member’ action]
> * Throw the Fighting Stick at him *
> … [Exit dialogue. Skips the tutorial]
Ranboo grinned. He didn’t hesitate for a second before picking his answer. It was far too funny for him to choose anything else.
> * Throw the Fighting Stick at him *
Ranboo’s body moved without his prompting. The Fighting Stick appeared in his right hand and then it immediately went flying through the air, only to land on Sorcerer’s face. A red ‘-1’ appeared next to Sorcerer’s head at the impact, only to fade away after a moment. The Fighting Stick meanwhile didn’t dissolve into nothing after one use like Ranboo suspected it would. Instead, it bounced off of Sorcerer’s flesh and ended up lying uselessly on the ground.
Instead of being pissed at the surprise attack, Sorcerer just looked confused… and maybe vaguely amused? He was a weird guy.
However, could Ranboo really judge him after throwing a stick at a total stranger? To be fair, he was given the option to by whoever the game master was, so, really, it was their fault, not his. He couldn’t help the desire to commit to the bit.
“You’re…” Sorcerer started. He seemed to be at a loss for words still. He was staring at Ranboo as if he were a wonderful new discovery. “I like you” he landed on after a few seconds of silence. “But how are you gonna fight me now without a weapon?”.
Ranboo silently cursed himself. Damn him and picking the funny over the smart.
He quickly opened his inventory once more, though the contents of it hadn’t changed since the last time. There was his camera which, on further inspection, was stated not to be a fight item so he couldn’t improvise and just smash that against Sorcerer’s head. And then there was the dirty bandage that was registered only as a ‘consumable item’. He hoped that didn’t mean that he would need to eat it to recover the ten HP because dying may be preferable to that…
He closed his inventory and looked back at Sorcerer, only for red letters to dance in front of his eyes for a moment. ‘Fight Engaged’ they said, before disappearing.
Thankfully, it wasn’t an RPG-style world, so he could still use the whole room he was in to move around and hopefully avoid attacks. Unfortunately though, he wasn’t particularly athletic, so that advantage wasn’t as big as it may have seemed. He didn’t do much of the heavy lifting on anything back in his world. Tommy and Tubbo were always there, ready to follow his every command even before he spoke it. He hadn’t needed to do much aside from thinking for them and keeping an eye and an ear out for threats to their little unit that needed to be eradicated with very few exceptions.
Sorcerer started by extending his right hand toward Ranboo and letting out a small cloud of red gas that Ranboo was certain would be poisonous if inhaled.
Ranboo quickly covered his face with his fancy cape and jumped back, further away from the deadly emission. He didn’t know what else he could do aside from dodging and weaving at the moment. If he got close enough to attack with his fists he would surely die from the gas. Trying to retrieve his Fighting Stick wasn’t going to be any easier since it was currently laying at Sorcerer’s feet.
Running for his life really did seem to be his best option, so that’s what he kept doing.
Ranboo barely avoided a couple more attacks, before his non-existent strategy finally bored Sorcerer enough for him to provide him with another useful tip: “Press ‘R’ to view your non-violent options, since you don’t seem to like direct attacks”.
Thankfully, much like with the ‘press C’ bullshit, accessing his non-violent options came easily to Ranboo despite not having any buttons to press. He just had to think of doing as much for a new menu to appear in front of him.
He was given a few options to choose from:
> Check
> Flirt
> Talk
> Pun
First rule of battle as Technoblade would have once said: always know thy enemies.
> Check
A box with a few debatably useful pieces of information popped up in front of him.
It read:
ʖꖎ𝙹𝙹↸ ⊣𝙹↸. Class: Sorcerer
HP: ???
ATK: ???
DEF: ???
State:
He’s starting to get bored with this fight. May get cranky when bored.
Ranboo gave Sorcerer an unimpressed stare once he was done reading. Was the other a child? Actually, never mind, he was a version of Tommy after all… that was normal.
“Are you done checking me out?” Sorcerer teased. He didn’t stop attacking to comment though, so Ranboo didn’t even have the time to feel the irritation those words caused him before he was back to running for his Primedamn life.
He had to avoid a couple more attacks before he got another chance to perform another action, as Sorcerer needed a moment for his mana to build back up apparently.
> Pun
Instead of getting his usual dialogue options, his mouth simply moved before he could stop it. Much like when he selected the ‘stick throw’ action. Thankfully so both times, because he didn’t usually have a great aim, and with all the anxiety from the fight he wasn’t exactly in the mood to try and think up a pun.
He just thought it was the best option he had to prevent Sorcerer from getting cranky as he didn't want to see what a version of Tommy armed with deadly magical gas would do if he got bored.
“Did you hear about the guy that lost a fight by getting kicked in the mouth?” he asked. There was a small pause as Sorcerer’s attention shifted back to him once more. Ranboo already knew where the joke was going before it ended, so he grinned fully as he delivered the punchline: “He now knows the taste of defeet”.
Sorcerer barked out an obnoxiously loud laugh.
That seemed to be a winning move. The end of the fight was announced in bold red letters as Sorcerer struggled to catch his breath. It hadn’t even been that funny of a joke, but it appeared that Ranboo’s new companion was an easy one to amuse.
At least having someone with a sense of humor to accompany him would make his journey less boring, he thought, completely unaware of the many annoyances to come.
Sorcerer picked up Ranboo’s Fighting Stick and handed it back to him, still smiling. “Come on Boob Boy, we have a village to reach and I can’t wait to see what you’ll do next”.
Chapter 2: New Objective Unlocked: Investigate the Rumors
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The village Sorcerer led him to was barely bigger than New L’Manburg had been back when it still existed.
It had been built straddling a river, with quite a few houses built atop it with the roads separating them functioning as bridges. The whole place was surrounded by golden fields of wheat, all yet to be harvested despite clearly being ripe for it. Either another sign of laziness on the creator's part or a bug in the functioning of whatever AI system controlled the inhabitants of the area. Or maybe, if the world he was in was real and not just a bad digital copy of reality, the people there just did not care how many of their crops were gonna go to waste. Living on top of a river, they probably had no shortage of food supplies regardless.
“This place is called Common Hey” Sorcerer explained gesturing around them at the town. He looked as unimpressed with it all as Ranboo felt. “I heard there is a great evil ready for you to slaughter here or whatever” he waved off that part, eyes instead focusing on a food stall a few blocks away from them. “We don’t have to care about that. I’d be happy to sample some of the local cuisine and dip”.
Ranboo was inclined to agree.
Whatever side quest awaited them there would only take away precious time from his main objective of getting back home. But… it may also grant them some money which they would need if they were to have more fights later down the line as Sorcerer had implied before. They needed food, healing potions, weapons, armor, and general equipment and he doubted anyone would accept a dirty bandage or a fighting stick as a trade. He wouldn’t. And he would question the sanity of anyone who would.
So, with a sigh, he approached the vendor at the food stall: a short lady with light blue skin, bright pink hair, and a long axolotl tail swishing calmly behind her. She was wearing a dirty white tunic ripped at the bottom which left her palmed fish feet exposed. Everything about her looked like she'd just been ripped away from a sea temple and never got the chance to adapt to life on dry land.
At least, for once in his life, Ranboo couldn’t say he was the one with the most main character energy around.
“Hello weary traveler” the lady greeted with a serious expression and a level tone of voice. “May I interest you in one of my wares?” she gestured at a few bowls of soup sitting in front of her. They all had different colors ranging from a yellowish-orange to a deep green with purple speckles, all equally unappealing. The smell wafting off them was no better, with some bringing in the distinctive odor of rotting fish and others being sickeningly sweet to the point they made him want to vomit. Standing in front of the stall was especially unpleasant as all the scents combined into a deadly concoction in his nostrils.
He had to blink away some tears brought forth by how pungent the odor was and also to try and distract him from the threatening movements happening in his stomach.
Sorcerer, the weirdo that he was, started drooling as he got close enough to get a whiff. If Ranboo hadn’t already believed that there was something wrong with that guy, that would have been his confirmation. As it was though, it happened to be just another nail in the coffin that he could momentarily ignore in favor of focusing on the lady.
A few options popped up in front of him, like usual.
You have: 0g
> Buy Common Mysterious Soup (5g)
> Buy Rare Mysterious Soup (8g)
> Buy Epic Mysterious Soup (12g)
> Buy Legendary Mysterious Soup (20g)
> Sell
> Talk
Even the names of the food items the lady sold sounded suspicious…
He wondered if there was even any difference in quality between the common one and the legendary one or if it was just a scam. After all, being able to gain a legendary item for only twenty of whatever in-game currency they were using seemed a bit too good to be true. Even if it was just a legendary soup and not a cool weapon or an indestructible shield or something to that effect.
Regardless, he was broke anyway.
One look at Sorcerer’s devastated expression was enough to confirm that he wasn’t any wealthier. Yet another thing he had in common with Ranboo’s Tommy.
Perhaps he could at least get enough money from the lady to upgrade his equipment at a later date…
> Sell
His inventory opened up automatically once he selected that option displaying the value of his items. His camera could not be sold, which was a pity as it was the only thing that may have had any value at all as both the dirty bandage and the fighting stick were labeled as being worth 0g.
With a sigh, he exited his menu without selling anything. It seemed he truly would need to earn his keep.
> Talk
That option triggered another dialogue prompt from the lady: “Talk? Well, I don’t know much of anything, but I’ll see what I can do”. Ranboo could relate.
> A little birdie has told me that there is a great evil afflicting this town, do you know anything about that?
> Do you ever sell anything other than soups?
> Tell me about yourself
> Why are there no kids around? [lv. 2 Trust Required to Perform this Action]
> … [Exit Dialogue]
Ranboo was about to select the first option without even glancing at the others as that was what he and Sorcerer were supposedly there for, when his eyes fell on the second to last one and he paused.
A cursory glance around confirmed that no kids were playing in the street of the town, at least from what he could see from his position. He’d seen adults and elderly people alright, a middle-aged man had rudely dumped a bucket of dirty water on them right as they turned down the alley where the soup stand was, and he could see a couple of elderly ladies staring at them and gossiping a bit further to his right. He was even pretty sure he’d noticed a couple of late teens making out on a bench as he entered the town. But he couldn’t remember anyone younger than that.
He hadn’t paid attention to that detail originally, but now he couldn't stop thinking about it.
Admittedly, it wasn’t like in his world of origin the situation was much better. With constant new wars tearing the inhabitants apart, it wasn’t like many people wanted to bring someone new into the world. But there were some exceptions. Fundy had been born there. Foolish, the architect who built the mansion he was residing in with Tommy and Tubbo, recently had a couple of kids of his own, and Puffy, his father, had adopted a young zombie piglin girl too. Not to speak of the giant spider Tommy dragged in one day that now haunted their attic and that the blond insisted on treating as his flesh and blood. Or the zombified piglin child that, much like Puffy did, Tubbo had grown emotionally attached to and insisted on keeping after a quick trip to the Nether one day.
The complete lack of a new generation felt eerie.
With that consideration in mind, he decided to approach the whole dialogue a bit more carefully to gain the lady’s trust. He could use some more general pieces of information about the world anyway. At least if he hoped to get back home in one piece.
> Tell me about yourself
He started off easy.
“I’m Lizzie” she introduced herself with a very curt bow. “But you can call me Ocean Queen. I’m a wandering merchant, traveling from city to city trying to find my brother. He’s an egg still, you see, and I kinda lost him… a while ago. He’s small, greenish-gray, and kinda slimy, but I love him nonetheless” somehow, she managed to smile and frown at the same time while thinking of her brother. Quite an impressive feat. Ranboo could admire her expressiveness, as he'd always wished to be more like that. “Hey, if you can find him I’d owe you. I’ll give you one of my soups for free, your choice” she concluded, a hopeful look in her eyes.
As that part of the dialogue ended, a new bubble of text popped up in front of Ranboo’s eyes. It read: ‘New Objective Unlocked: Find the Codfather’.
Ranboo could feel Sorcerer’s intense gaze burning a hole in the side of his head. He must have really wanted to try those soups… not that Ranboo could say he wasn’t curious about the legendary one too…
But, well, that wasn’t the mission at the moment, was it?
Besides, he doubted they’d just find a weird slimy egg while still in that small village. If it was there, the Ocean Queen would have found it already. But he’d keep an eye out in the future locations they visited. After all, he assumed this would be an open-world map kind of deal, so most likely he’d be able to come back and explore the town properly whenever.
He hoped so at least as he didn’t want to find out how annoying an unsatisfied and cranky Sorcerer could get.
The same dialogue options from earlier popped up again, though now the option he’d chosen was grayed out.
> Do you ever sell anything other than soups?
He didn’t actually care. It wasn’t like he’d be around long enough to find out what she may have once she ran out of stock with the soups. But he still had to build up a good rapport with her to ask what he wanted to know.
The lady nodded enthusiastically at the question. Her pupils flashed into small golden stars for a moment before she launched herself into a description of her other pieces of merchandise in the form of quite a catchy song. “Feast your eyes as I share the rest of my glorious wares. They’re precious antiques, exquisitely rare. There’s a magical ink sack-” she pulled out what looked to be a completely normal sack of ink you could obtain by slaying any average squid from the underside of her food stall. “Some ancient bamboo-” this time, she pulled out a stick that, at the very least, looked a bit sturdier than the one Ranboo currently possessed. “A dish of deliciously devilish stew-” that one was just yet another bowl of stew that looked only vaguely different from the ones she was already selling. A bit darker in color.
Sorcerer huffed next to him, clearly getting impatient. “Now you’re just grasping at straws” he muttered.
As Ranboo couldn’t verbally reproach him for his rudeness without a dialogue prompt that allowed him to do so, he decided to just pull out his fighting stick and poke him hard in the side with it. Then he brought one finger up to his mouth shushing the other harshly.
Sorcerer rolled his eyes, annoyed and grumpy already from the lack of barely edible food he’d been allowed to consume thus far, and now even more so by being scolded like a child throwing a fit. He did quieten down though, so Ranboo took it as a victory.
“I’ve got a fishing rod-” it was only a slightly longer stick with a normal string tied to one end. It didn’t even have a hook or any way to reel the string in. “An enchanted book-” said book, at the very least, was glowing faintly. Before Ranboo could inquire about it though, she had already thrown it far behind her back. “An iron ingot-” she dropped the heavy metal on the stall, the wood splintered slightly where it crashed. “And a tripwire hook-” this one only had the hook, not the wire. Perhaps if one bought it together with the ‘fishing rod’ they’d be able to get one semi-functional item out of it. “A hand-crafted stick-” she pointed to the piece of bamboo from earlier. “And a powerful bow!” as she pulled back the string to show off her simple wooden bow it snapped. She somehow didn’t look phased at this and just kept on singing.
If anything, Ranboo admired her showmanship.
It reminded him a bit of how Tommy could be sometimes. Well… how he used to be before everything went to Hell with his exile and then Doomsday… and then the prison. He'd gone through too much for anyone, especially someone his age. He'd been seventeen for a few months now, and he had enough traumas to fill up a library with. Nowadays it would be a miracle to hear him speak more than a sentence alone without Tubbo butting in to complete them. It was just not how they operated anymore.
“A dinosaur bone-” she pulled out what was painfully obviously just a chicken bone. “And a tasty potato!” the potato was not, in fact, tasty. It looked rotten. Ranboo was certain it could have killed a god if they tried to eat it. Maybe he should take it back home and feed it to XD… that pesky wannabe all-powerful entity had been a thorn in his side lately. He kept interfering with his latest little project to open up a way to the End.
The god just didn’t understand it. He somehow failed to see how that would be the perfect way to keep his little family safe and sound forever. He never would understand because he lacked attachments of any kind, so loss was an unknown concept to him. He never had to hold his platonic husband as he cried and screamed for his best friend’s corpse locked away behind several layers of impenetrable obsidian blocks. He never heard to fake a smile as he listened to some fucker calling themselves his friend in one breath and explaining how exactly they were planning to kill one of his best friends in the other. He never felt the steel cold grip of anxiety choking him when he sent someone he cared for out on a dangerous mission that would make their life easier if it turned into a success but could just as easily destroy them.
Ranboo didn’t need him to understand either, he just needed him to get out of his way. Every attempt at obtaining that so far had been unfortunately unsuccessful, however.
“Make up your mind, what fabulous find will it be?” Lizzie concluded her song batting her eyelashes at him hopefully.
“We’re broke” Sorcerer answered for him, shattering all the poor woman’s dreams.
“Well, I appreciate your honesty at least” she said with a small genuine smile.
A pop-up bubble informed Ranboo that his Trust Level with her had gone up to level two. He was incredibly grateful about it because he had no intention of sitting through another musical number, as catchy as this one had admittedly been.
Finally, with only two real options of dialogue available, he decided to go for what had caught his attention from the start:
> Why are there no kids around?
Lizzie immediately frowned. All the excitement and joy she’d gotten from singing her silly little song about her wide array of faulty products was replaced by a quiet nervousness.
For a few moments, she didn’t say anything. She just looked around, maybe making sure that her little show from earlier had not attracted too much unwarranted attention or maybe just afraid that what she was about to say would be heard by the wrong people.
Finally, after well over a minute of complete silence, she spoke up. “Something weird is happening in this town”. Ranboo barely refrained from rolling his eyes. He’d known that much at least. “I’ve only been here for around a week but I heard rumors. Apparently, some thug took over the local orphanage. He chased away all the workers and brainwashed the kids into doing his bidding. Soon, all the children in the city joined his small army. Families have been left unable to retrieve them and are now broken with grief” her serious expression melted back into something neutral once more. With a small shrug she added: “Or that’s what I’ve heard at least”.
Of course, like before, a bubble with some text appeared in the corner of Ranboo’s vision informing him that the objective ‘Investigate the Rumors’ had now been unlocked.
He was not happy about it.
He’d do it because he and Sorcerer needed the money, but it sounded well above what he could achieve with his one stick and the single-use bandage in his possession that he may or may not have to eat to activate.
At least Sorcerer had his poisonous smoke. It wouldn’t be the best in a close-quarter fight, which sounded like what they'd be dealing with soon, but they’d make do for now. They had to.
He looked around, trying to figure out where the orphanage could be when he spotted some graffiti art on a wall. Someone wrote ‘To Play This Way’ in bright bold red lettering and then added an arrow pointing to the right. Subtle as an elephant in a crystal shop…
He pointed out the sign to Sorcerer. His companion was just as enthused as Ranboo, but still, he nodded and followed him along. Maybe he finally understood that they needed to do at least some basic quests if they hoped to be done with this cumbersome adventure as soon as possible.
They followed several more graffiti down narrow alleys twisting all around the city. Eventually, they arrived in what looked to be the main square of the town, even though it was completely deserted save for a few kids, the first Ranboo had seen in Common Hey so far, playing soccer together. The only reason why he knew that had once been an important space in the city was because their one church faced toward it, and so did the clock tower built right beside it. And, well, the fact that it was rather spacious. A good thirty by thirty blocks.
He guessed that the building that used to be the orphanage was the one with all its windows barred. Though clearly, the attempt at keeping all the kids in hadn’t worked seeing as there were at least five outside with no supervision.
On a second look at the building, he noticed that the main door was wide open, probably how the children had left in the first place, and that there was a camera icon floating above it.
Quickly, Ranboo snapped a picture. Once more he was informed that his album had been updated and his progress had been saved.
He hoped that would function like a video game and he’d be able to start again from there if he messed up and ended up dying. He really didn’t want to go back to the beginning. Mainly because he didn’t want to sit through all the same dialogue again, and he could do without a reprise of the musical too. He may have the memory of a goldfish, but not enough time had passed for him to forget anything yet.
“Are you ready, Player?” Sorcerer asked, his ever-present smirk was back on his face together with the same glint of excitement he’d gotten looking at the very peculiar soups from earlier. Despite not being the one with the presumed re-spawn abilities, he didn’t look afraid one bit. Good on him, Ranboo could feel his knees shaking.
He took a deep breath.
Three dialogue options popped up in front of him:
> Ready [May affect your party member’s trust lv]
> On further thought, maybe we should leave. This isn’t our business and we are making a lot of assumptions based on some very unsubstantiated rumors we heard from a singular unreliable source…
> You should stay here, I’ll go in alone [May affect your party member’s trust lv]
There was only one way forward that he could see at that point. Cowardice wouldn’t help. Even though Ranboo wasn’t used to dirtying his own hands as usually he had Tommy and Tubbo by his side taking care of all the unpleasant parts of surviving in a war-ridden world, he didn’t have them now. So he puffed up his chest, took a step forward, and pressed his choice with confidence.
> Ready
He was notified that he’d gained some trust points with Sorcerer thanks to his choice, but there was nothing about a level increase. Ranboo didn’t know if he’d consider that a blessing or a curse. Because, while relatively entertaining, his traveling companion was still incredibly weird. And Ranboo didn’t know what someone like that trusting him would say about his character.
He put those thoughts out of his mind for the time being and, together with Sorcerer, he walked up to the entrance… and promptly tripped on a wire and got shot in the neck with a tranquilizer dart that made his whole world go dark.
Notes:
Me and my cliffhangers... I love them. They're so fun!
Hope you guys enjoyed Lizzie in all her beautiful quirky glory. She will be back.
Chapter Text
When Ranboo woke up he was in a small bedroom somewhere underground, he could tell from the lack of windows. In the cell with him, there was only a small single bed which was decidedly too short for him and left his legs dangling out from the knee down, a bedside table that was anchored to the floor that had a currently lit candle on top of it to offer some form of illumination, and a chair presently occupied by a very bored-looking Sorcerer who was staring dead on at him.
The other didn’t even look like he’d just been chemically knocked out, so why he was waiting there doing nothing was a mystery to Ranboo. He could have fought off whoever brought them down there or even ran away himself to get help… certainly, there must be at least one person in that rickety old town willing to fight for their children's freedom, right?
Then again, Sorcerer didn’t register to him as someone willing to put in that much effort.
“Good morning Sleeping Beauty” Sorcerer teased when he noticed that Ranboo was awake. “Slept soundly?”.
Ranboo narrowed his eyes at that smug prick smile of his. It made him look oh-so punchable, Ranboo had to exercise a lot of self-control right about then. That was probably one more reason why his traveling companion hadn’t intervened without his direct prompting: he liked observing how he would act. He was a people watcher, he wanted to see history unfold with minimal participation on his side. Ranboo’s Tommy would never. Tubbo neither. Those two were the kings of taking matters into their own hands when the occasion called for it.
He really missed them…
He wondered, not for the first time, how they’d reacted to his disappearance. They must have noticed by then, even if it was his first playthrough. Knowing them, the possibility of them both just laying down on the mansion's floor and staring blankly at the ceiling doing nothing until Ranboo returned wasn’t small… the idea broke his heart.
To try and distract himself from that sad train of thoughts, he looked down at the dialogue prompts that had appeared in front of him.
> Where are we?
> What happened?
> Did you see who kidnapped us?
> Were you really just sitting there watching me sleep like a creep?
> Take a picture, it’ll last longer
> … [Exit dialogue]
Ranboo studied his options for a moment.
He resonated with the sentiment behind almost all of them, except for the one about watching people sleep. As an enderman who routinely turned into his enderwalk state and found himself staring at the people he loved to make sure they were okay, he understood the desire to do that. Besides, he was used to it with his Tommy and Tubbo. The rare occasions when Ranboo slept always spooked them and he understood completely their almost obsessive need to make sure he was still breathing at all times.
Then again, he didn’t know if he’d get to select more than one option like he did with Lizzie, so he had to choose carefully. He had to be logical about it. He had to figure out which option would get him the most pieces of information regarding his current predicament. They'd get nowhere entering a vicious cycle of mutual teasing and scorn. And he needed to be done with that place soon so he could be on his way back home before his two besties finished wasting away wherever they were.
His hand hovered over the third option for a few long seconds, before he sighed and gave into his instincts.
> Take a picture, it’ll last longer
He said it with a shit-eating smirk punchable enough to rival the other’s.
The satisfaction he got from using Sorcerer’s words against him was unparalleled. And it must have shown on his face because Sorcerer’s cocky facade fell away for a moment as his expression broke out into something that seemed almost impressed. A rare show of something genuine, as the half-piglin skull covering his face was far from the only mask he wore.
That had been worth wasting his chance to get something useful out of his traveling companion. Then again, knowing the other, he would have probably just made fun of him instead of answering any of his questions even if he'd gone for one of the more serious inquiries instead anyway. Ranboo noticed that he tended to be helpful only when that resulted in a more entertaining course of events.
Sorcerer tried to compose himself again quickly with relative success. He huffed and turned away, shaking his head. There was a red tint dusting his cheeks still. Perhaps he wasn’t used to people firing back with his same kind of attitude, Ranboo reflected. “Well, aren’t you a cheeky bugger when you want to be…” he grumbled.
Ranboo chuckled.
In his original universe, it advantaged both him and Tommy and Tubbo if he kept up the innocent and clueless farce. That way, people, who would otherwise have been threats to him as well, trusted him enough to open up to him about their plans regarding his two best friends with just a bit of prodding. That’s how he’d gotten Jack and Niki to admit to wanting to try and nuke Tommy, his Tommy . They wanted to kill his Tommy with Tubbo's weapons! He still could hardly believe their gall. They unfortunately didn’t live long enough to see their plan through. Apparently, some wild beast had stabbed each of them ten times in the chest with a sharp object that suspiciously matched the dagger Ranboo had gifted Tommy and Tubbo for their combined birthday a few months prior. A tragedy, truly.
Anyway, what he was trying to get at was that, while Ranboo benefited from looking overly approachable in his world, that was only because he had his two best friends by his side who implicitly trusted his decision-making abilities. A soft approach to leading suited them just fine. However, it was clear that the same method wouldn’t work with Sorcerer.
His traveling companion had proven himself to be hard-headed, independent, and annoying. About the opposite of what Ranboo was used to dealing with. So he had to adapt. Come up with a different strategy. A new way to break down his barriers and get his trust.
He didn’t know how he’d go about it yet, but he filed away Sorcerer’s response to his teasing as a clue.
Satisfied with what he got, he pushed himself off the bed and looked around the room.
All the drawers of the bedside table were empty. The chair, as it turned out, was also anchored to the floor, though that looked to be a recent addition and a rushed job at that. He probably could undo it if he managed to get any small object to force the screws loose. The door was predictably locked, and he couldn’t even try to burn it away with the candle as it was made of metal.
It looked as if he’d soft-blocked himself…
He took another cursory glance around the room only then noticing that there was a new icon he’d never seen before floating next to the door. It looked like a drop of blood. Well, human blood at least, the red kind. It could have also very well been colorful water, but he doubted it because, like, why would anyone think of such a confusing design? Sure, the creator of that universe had proved not to be the most attentive fellow when it came to little details, but he hoped they'd at least catch that kind of slip-up.
Shaking his head to chase away that useless train of thoughts, he approached it carefully and knelt to inspect it. There was nothing written on it. No indication of what it would do or if it would be helpful at all. It could drain him of all his blood and kill him instantly for all he knew!
But… then again… he was out of options.
He glanced back at Sorcerer who was seemingly fascinated by the candle as he’d discovered that he could pass his finger over the flame really fast and not get hurt by it. He definitely would not be the one to come up with an alternative solution to their conundrum.
Ranboo pressed the icon.
A list labeled ‘Cantrips and Spells’ popped up in front of him as he did so.
Under the ‘Cantrips’ section, it contained the following:
> Minor Illusion
> Poison Spray
> Shocking Grasp
> True Strike
And, under the ‘Level One Spells’ section it contained two more:
> Charm Person
> Magic Missile
He could easily deduce what most of those did, though a couple gave him a funny mental image. He couldn’t help but imagine himself riding one of Tubbo’s nukes with a cowboy hat and a terrible Texan accent for the last one for example. Or summoning a younger version of his Tubbo back home from back when he was still too small to fit the presidential suit he was given to wear who then would say something along the lines of: ‘I’m neurodivergent and a minor’ for the first one.
He wasn’t given the option to share his brilliant sense of humor, and perhaps it was for the best. Very few understood his comedic genius. Sorcerer may have been one of those few, but the universe was firmly against him testing it out. Maybe it knew that he had no hope. Or maybe he was just being overly dramatic for no reason. No one would ever know...
Focusing back on his problem at hand, however, he realized that he only had one real option.
> Shocking Grasp
He figured those were his magical abilities and that he'd only unlocked them then as he hadn't yet needed them. He was wrong.
Instead of electricity erupting from the palms of his hands, Sorcerer was the one to react. He approached the door with a confident smile, before laying his right hand on the handle and letting lightning flow through his fingertips. The sudden burst of electricity was powerful enough to short-circuit the system and the door slid open, freeing them of their short confinement.
“You looked like you were struggling” Sorcerer said with a shrug, as if Ranboo hadn’t been the one to figure out what they had to do right then.
Then again, if Sorcerer truly was just a character in a game-like world, he probably didn’t realize that had been the case. Ranboo would have been able to convince himself of that if it wasn’t for the small suspicious glint Sorcerer had in his eyes as he glanced down at the hand he'd used for the spell. It was so fast that Ranboo would have missed it if he blinked, so he’d never been more grateful that endermen didn’t require to do that too much. Well, full endermen didn’t need to do that at all since they didn’t have eyelids, but he was a hybrid between that and something unknown so he wasn’t quite as fortunate. Though maybe not having to lick his eyeballs every couple of minutes was the lucky outcome… that sounded uncomfortable.
He got up from his crouched position and dusted his pants, careful to get as much of the soot out of them as possible. Whoever the guy who took over the orphanage was, he needed to hire someone to clean the place because that was no way for kids to live.
Once he was more or less satisfied with the condition of his clothing, he poked his head out of the room. The corridor outside was dark, so he grabbed the candle from the nightstand and used that to check for anything out of place that might get them out of commission again.
Needless to say, the way up was not easy. That entire orphanage was riddled with traps that all the kids somehow knew how to avoid while he and Sorcerer did not. Quite the opposite, they seemed to fall in every single one they came across. Oh, how he wished his first traveling companion would have been an expert in those instead of a mysterious dude with magical powers and the attitude of a bully and a wet cat mixed together.
They ended up knocked out in the basement another three times. Once because Ranboo had walked on the wrong step on a staircase, which had promptly turned into a slide that sent them both barreling toward the wall at the bottom. And twice because they activated an invisible alarm that alerted a nearby child to their presence. Said child would then pop out of thin air near them and then promptly shoot them with a blowpipe.
Ranboo was glad that none of the traps were fatal because dying to that Home Alone bullshit would have been embarrassing.
On their fifth attempt, however, they finally made it to the very top of the orphanage where the thug was rumored to be hiding.
The sight that greeted them once they entered the main office of that floor labeled ‘Great Mother’ wasn’t what either of them expected. And Ranboo knew that because he noticed Sorcerer’s initial look of surprise before he managed to school his expression back into a neutral one. He was not as sleek as he thought.
Regardless, sitting at a mahogany desk was an older and less scarred version of the Tommy Ranboo was used to, he was dressed up in what looked like a mix between a Prime priest's robes and a housewife from the fifties, and a child version of Tommy who couldn’t have been more than ten-years-old in a royal blue steampunk outfit that sorta clashed with the style that whole universe had going on as far as he’d seen for now. They were playing chess and the little one was winning. And not by a small margin either. He still had most of his pieces while the other guy was only left with his king, a rook, and a pawn.
Ranboo was so baffled by what he was seeing that he didn’t even notice when some lines of dialogue appeared in front of him. He only looked down when the child version of his bestie took his eyes away from the game to stare at him… though really it felt like he was staring through him. His gaze was intense, even more so than Sorcerer’s had been at the very beginning. There was something fundamentally wrong about that kid. Something dangerous that Ranboo couldn’t define. All he knew was that he wouldn’t wanna face him in battle.
He looked down just to escape that gaze.
> Criminal, we are here to fight you and free the children of your brainwashing!
> We are here to talk…
> * Throw Fighting Stick * [Engage in a Fight]
> * Offer Dirty Bandage * This is for your pride. I imagine you need it after getting your ass kicked by a child
> Can I have the next match?
> … [Exit Dialogue and Engage in a Fight]
Admittedly, he was starting to grow fond of the stupid choices he was being offered. It wasn’t that different from living with social anxiety. As a matter of fact, that was pretty much how all his everyday interactions functioned for him. His mind ran through every possible response it could come up with any time someone came up to him for a chat and always landed on the dumbest first.
Hey, nobody ever said that stone-cold killers couldn’t have some insecurities!
For once, he chose to bypass the funny bit and selected the option that made the most sense in that situation.
> We are here to talk…
Adult Tommy squinted his eyes at them suspiciously.
Of course, just to be annoying and unhelpful as always, Sorcerer ignored his already suspicious behavior and quipped: “Especially because I’m sure you’ve already had enough of getting your ass kicked for today”.
Instead of growing more weary and upset like Ranboo had expected, the guy just gave Sorcerer a look of utter disappointment. It oozed with motherly energy and it felt like being caught with your hand in the cookie jar at midnight when you’d already been lovingly put to bed. It was the most polite way of wordlessly calling someone a moron while communicating how tired and unimpressed you were with the other’s actions. It was impressive that someone who looked to be either a late teen or in his early twenties could get all that across so clearly. He exuded the energy of an exhausted single mother of three.
Sorcerer must not have had too many experiences with parents because he visibly shrunk back under that gaze. His usual cocky smile turned confused and his eyebrows furrowed. Ranboo assumed it was his very first experience with mommy- or, well, maybe daddy issues? Whatever. Parental issues. And he was not enjoying it in the slightest.
After a few moments of silent staring, adult Tommy sighed. “Well, if you wanna talk then sit down. I have to at least offer you a cup of tea. I wouldn’t be a good host otherwise, would I?”.
Ranboo wanted to point out how they’d already been knocked out several times by the traps he set throughout that building which also didn't classify as 'good host' behavior, but the reminder of the power behind the other’s disappointed mom look kept his mouth firmly shut. He even selected the three dots option for the first time since he’d gotten to that universe. He was not risking it.
The guy made them all a cup of tea, the kid still in the office included.
Ranboo noticed that the item was labeled as a consumable and that he could store it in his inventory for later, so he did that. Sorcerer quirked an eyebrow up at his choice but thankfully didn’t comment on it and just drank his own silently.
“So, what did you want to talk about?” the new Tommy asked as he sat down in front of them with an amount of grace that was completely antithetical to anything Tommy. His friend was not an elegant guy. Ranboo had seen him eat mud for Prime’s sake! Seeing someone wearing his face and still acting like that was far more jarring than whatever the heck Sorcerer had going on with the half skull rotting on his face.
“We heard some rumors about you brainwashing kids for profit” Sorcerer responded way too directly.
Everyone in the room aside from his traveling companion tensed up. The hostility in the air was so thick one could cut it with a knife.
“I did not!” the new guy yelled back, outraged.
Ranboo believed him.
Truth be told, he thought the rumors had been exaggerated ever since he noticed the kids freely playing soccer in the town square right outside. Had they been held hostage in the orphanage, they wouldn’t have been allowed to. That paired with the fact that the guy’s grand evil scheme apparently included getting beat in chess by a prepubescent kid all painted a very different picture to what they’d been told.
He still didn’t completely understand how the guy had taken over. He looked easy enough to overpower and, from Ranboo’s understanding, there had been multiple people working there before he chased them off. And he couldn’t even have all his annoying little traps set up back when he did that!
Overall, he was just confused, not weary. And he prided himself in having a good understanding of people. It came with having to be the brain of his ragtag group of traumatized teens back home.
> Be that the case or not, you can’t continue with your operation, it’s illegal
> How did you get here then if not by force?
> Is there any way I can convince you to step away from running this orphanage?
> … [Exit Dialogue and Engage in a Fight]
Ranboo scoffed at the first option he was given. Nobody was enough of a stickler for the rules to care about legalities in a situation like that.
He also didn’t think it’d be wise to resolve that whole conflict with violence. Both because he wasn’t convinced the new guy deserved it and because he managed to chase away several people who most definitely were better equipped than Ranboo with his fighting stick, his mono-use bandage, and his newly acquired tea cup. However, if push came to shove, he was not above throwing said tea cup at the guy’s head and running while Sorcerer handled everything else with his poisonous smoke clouds.
> How did you get here then if not by force?
The guy hummed. “I don’t know” he responded. “Until a few weeks ago I was getting in a minor scuffle on live TV with the Blood God-” Ranboo took notice of Sorcerer’s eyes going wide at the mention of that name. Did he perhaps know someone who shared it? Ranboo assumed that would be Technoblade as the man donned that moniker in battle in his universe… so would some version of Techno exist in that universe too? Or had Sorcerer been grabbed from an alternate reality as well and he was thinking of his version of the guy? Either way, he wondered if they were on bad terms... that could lead to some unforeseen complications later down the line... “Praying to all the gods I don’t even believe in that Tubster wouldn’t kill me once I got home, and then I was just suddenly here. And the people running this place were shit. The kids were all dirty, the conditions in the kitchen were unsanitary, to say the least, I found more than one dead rat in one of the bathrooms, and the Great Mother- and I don’t say this lightly when it’s about a woman- sucked ass. So I just started doing some spring cleaning and now here we are” he finished his speech with a dismissive wave of the hand.
For having seemingly also been yoinked from another world he sure sounded relatively unfazed by it… perhaps because there his Tubbo couldn’t reach him and make him regret being an idiot.
Though the mention of a Tubbo in and of itself did confirm his initial suspicion that, despite the complete absence of scars on him and his downright bizarre behavior, that guy was indeed another version of Tommy. And that alone already made Ranboo want to keep him.
He was grateful when he was presented with the same options from before with the only difference being that the one he selected had been grayed out because there was another thing he was desperate to know.
> Is there any way I can convince you to step away from running this orphanage?
“Well…” the guy thought about it for a few moments. Ranboo hoped the answer would be a resounding yes. Or at least some kind of confirmation accompanied by a list of somewhat reasonable demands. He just really wanted the guy in his party… Sorcerer was decent company but he’d been craving some sense of familiarity and stability since he got there. Someone he could talk about his old friends and the universe he left behind with and who would share some anecdotes back. Sorcerer was never forthcoming with information about himself. All Ranboo had learned so far was that he was married and that he was a big fan of marriage fraud and the two things were very much related. “I’d feel good about leaving this place if I knew I was leaving it in good hands…” the new Tommy had finally decreed after a pause too long for Ranboo’s poor anxious heart to handle.
Two bubbles of text appeared in front of his eyes in unison. They read: ‘Objective Completed: Investigate the Rumors’ and ‘New Objective Unlocked: Find a New Great Mother’.
Ranboo had never felt so ready for anything in his life.
Notes:
Ranboo is so fun to write because he really does wildly swing between being an awkward dork and a Machiavellian villain all the time. It's sort of like writing cDream but less creepy. Or consensually creepy at least. I should write more characters like this...
Chapter 4: Objective Completed: Find a New Great Mother
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Finding a new Great Mother turned out to be a minigame of sorts.
The town’s folks were pretty excited to get the orphanage back under their control, so they didn’t mind sitting through a short interview to see if they’d be fit candidates for the job. During the small meeting, Ranboo was put in charge of looking through their paperwork to try and spot the small incongruences they may have left in there such as fake names, ages, or forged past references from similar lines of work.
Ranboo got the impression that he was under no obligation to be so thorough. The new Tommy, or Cleric, as Sorcerer insisted they should call him, wasn’t supervising his work. He mostly sat in a corner glaring at any candidate coming in regardless of whether they’d be a good fit for the job or not. He couldn’t do much as the citizens didn’t seem to trust him to inspect their qualifications as they still regarded him as nothing but a thug. So, really, Ranboo could have just picked any random Joe and called it a day.
He probably should have.
The children of the town were not his priority. Making sure they were well taken care of did not bring him any closer to his ultimate goal of going back home to his two best friends who were most likely wasting away on the floor of their shared mansion waiting for him.
Ranboo wasn’t even a beacon of morality or anything like that. He was just as selfish as all the people strolling into his makeshift office looking to make some quick bucks at the expense of those poor orphans. He had to be to survive in his world. He’d seen in his friends how much the world loved to take from kind souls without giving anything back. He knew how much adults looked down on teens and kids for being immature and improper while holding them to impossibly high standards of moral purity that they could never hope to meet themselves. Some of Techno’s speeches echoing that sentiment were still seared into his brain.
He’d be lying if he said that, for at least one short moment, he hadn’t considered just accepting the first person who walked into the door and then skedaddling out of there with one extra member for his party. He had. He’d looked into all the hopeful eyes of the children who trusted Cleric with their future and their lives and would trust whoever he gave his okay to and felt nothing.
They were not his problem.
He wasn’t the one who would be letting them down. He wasn’t the one who insisted on making false promises he had no way of keeping. He wasn’t even their guardian. They were strangers and Ranboo had a healthy detachment from anyone who didn’t belong to his inner circle, and for the time being, that also included his current and his soon-to-be traveling companions and everything they cared about. That could be subject to change in the future, but he would not be holding his breath for it.
And then the first lady who stepped through his door had three different names, one on her ID, one on her birth certificate, and one on her passport. Her driver’s license sported the same name as her passport, while her teaching license had a misspelling of the name that was on her birth certificate. And Ranboo may not have been a moral person, he may not even have cared about those children, but he was far too fucking petty to let that amount of idiocy slide. If he was gonna pretend to let someone trick him they would not be so incontestably stupid.
After going through about fifteen candidates with flagrantly obvious mistakes on their paperwork he decided that at that point he may as well do a good job and find someone suited for the job. It wasn’t like he was gonna lose any more time that way than he already was by simply being petty…
And a small part of him he didn’t even think he possessed anymore, liked the idea of helping Cleric just because. No ulterior motives, no machinations or nefarious purposes. Just because he seemed so earnest in his desire to help those children.
Ranboo may not have personally cared about them, but it was obvious to anyone with eyes that he did. Cleric looked too much like his Tommy for Ranboo to remain completely unaffected by his drive and passion even if he wasn't attached to him yet as much as one may have assumed. He wanted to to help him. Simple as that.
And, while he most likely wouldn’t admit it even under torture, Sorcerer seemed pleased with his decision. With every candidate Ranboo rejected for valid reasons, his shit-eating grin turned a little bit more genuine. Not enough for Ranboo to comfortably call him out on it without risking derision, but enough to be noticeable for his well-trained eye.
He finally had some luck with candidate number twenty-five.
Mythical J. Sausage was a nice man somewhere in his thirties. He’d only been in town for about a month and previously he’d been running a different city called Sanctuary. He had extensive experience with war refugees and all kinds of charitable work. His biggest red flag was that he’d been a bit secretive about his ability to speak to animals at first, but Ranboo suspected that was due to some kind of childhood trauma, not a desire to maliciously conceal the truth. He was used to seeing that kind of skittishness around touchy subjects from plenty of people in his own life. There was a reason after all why Tubbo, Tommy, and Fundy all still kept their guards up around Eret or why nobody ever tried to fix up the New L’Manburg’s crater at any point. Certain wounds, the ones so deep that they scratched someone’s very core, never really healed.
Aside from that, the man seemed like a perfect fit.
He was rich, so the likelihood of him taking on such a lowly job for monetary gain wasn’t the highest, though Prime only knew that rich people could be some of the greediest sleazy scum out there… Techno and Phil were living proof of that.
He was passionate, well-traveled, and very knowledgeable about many different cultures and costumes, which hopefully meant he’d be a bit more in tune with the kids’ different sensitivities. He could even speak both Spanish and English! A nice plus for all those children who may not have been native speakers.
And, most importantly, he appeared to have a very tender heart. He spoke so highly of helping others and even recounted how his adoptive father, a humanoid rabbit named Eddie, had inspired that mindset in him, how the man taught him blacksmithing and altruism with the same fiery passion. He seemed sincere. And Ranboo trusted his ability to judge other people’s character enough to go for it.
Sure, the man was a bit scruffy-looking, his hair hadn’t seen a brush in a good while and his beard could use a trim, but those were only very minor and shallow critiques.
Ranboo felt confident as he gifted Sausage the keys to the orphanage.
As soon as he did, a bubble appeared congratulating him on completing the ‘Find a New Great Mother’ objective. He was awarded fifty gold for it by Sausage himself as a show of gratitude for the opportunity Ranboo had given him.
With his pockets a bit heavier, he made his way through the town of Common Hey bypassing the small soup stall manned by the pink-haired lady, to go straight for a potion shop to see if they could get themselves some basic life-saving supplies.
Sorcerer was not happy about this decision of his and he was very vocal about it. “Come on! The soups weren’t even that expensive! And, who knows, maybe they’d heal you up too!” he whined, gesticulating wildly to get Ranboo’s attention.
Ranboo and Cleric sighed in unison.
“Not even my toddlers throw this kind of temper tantrums…” Cleric muttered under his breath.
Ranboo raised an eyebrow at the comment, but a quick browse of his dialogue options revealed that he was not allowed to investigate further.
“Oh? You have kids? Should I start calling you daddy then~?” Sorcerer teased without missing a beat. How that guy always had a clever little snarky response at the ready was a mystery.
If looks could kill, Cleric would have gone to jail then. Ranboo could see his cheeks puffing up as he got ready to deliver what was undoubtedly the most scalding tirade either he or Sorcerer had ever assisted to. And, while Ranboo thought it may have been funny to hear it, he didn’t want to discover how many more parental issues it could unlock in Sorcerer. The guy was already barely tolerable as it was, they didn’t need him to get worse.
Quickly, Ranboo slammed his hand on one of the choices that popped up in front of him to run a diversion.
> I’ll buy you a soup with whatever gold we got to spare [May affect a party member’s trust lv]
> I’m pretty sure we can find less suspicious food vendors if we explore more
> We should prioritize Potions, Weapons, and Upgrades
> … [Exit Dialogue]
The one he’d go for was obvious.
Even if his game-like setup hadn’t let him know that the first option gave him a better chance of establishing a genuine connection with Sorcerer it would not have been hard to deduce. Though, admittedly, the little boxes informing him of the consequences of his actions were rather useful tools. He didn’t know if he would have fared as well without them.
Besides, he did want to get the guy a little treat for behaving himself during those boring ass meetings. He could imagine it took him some effort.
> I’ll buy you a soup with whatever gold we got to spare
Weirdly, there was no indication of that increasing or decreasing his trust points with Sorcerer. Perhaps he needed to go through with his promise for that to work. Or maybe it was one of those RNG things, where the choice may or may not affect the outcome. He hoped that wouldn’t be the case as he hated that kind of mechanics.
Regardless, Sorcerer beamed at him. “I knew there was a reason why I liked you” he slapped Ranboo’s shoulder as he said that. It was probably meant to be friendly, but Ranboo was a literal twig of a man so, of course, it led to him faceplanting into a muddy patch of the road.
He didn’t hurt himself, but his pride was bruised.
Sorcerer didn’t even look apologetic when Ranboo turned around to glare at him. At least Cleric had the decency to show some worry, although most outsiders would not have been able to tell that that was the meaning behind his deep scowl.
Their latest companion was similar to Ranboo’s Tommy perhaps solely in that regard as he was a fair bit more poised and motherly than the version he knew could ever hope to be.
Tommy was an open book written in a language not many understood. All his emotions appeared on his face as a slightly different shade of anger. Tubbo behaved similarly, no surprise there as the two were soulmates after all, but his default expression was a neutral smile. It was why, despite the two being as similar as two drops of water, it had always been so easy to pick an obvious scapegoat between them.
Tubbo was quiet. He looked polite. He could be a bit of a pushover at times. And he was more openly obedient to those in power. He was the perfect victim of any narrative. A child pushed into presidency far too young, punished unjustly by his predecessor, and pushed around constantly by his best friend. He had no agency until it was convenient for others to give him some. And even then, Techno had to dehumanize him to even attempt turning a significant portion of the server against him during Doomsday. Reducing him to nothing but a personification of the corruption of the government. And still, he failed.
People loved Tubbo.
People hated Tommy.
Tommy was loud, obnoxious, and brash. He was known as a troublemaker. He was involved in every conflict and it didn’t matter that he was the wronged party in a big majority of them. He had the guts to stand up to injustices, a crime so severe to be punishable by death in most adults’ eyes. Nobody saw how he followed his brother, then Dream, then Techno, and now Ranboo. Nobody saw his vulnerability and uncertainty, much like they didn’t see Tubbo’s personhood. He was just a piece of the narrative. The fallen hero. The lamb to the slaughter. The key to unlocking the server’s potential. Every person assigned him a different meaning, a different value. No one bothered to get to know the boy buried beneath it all.
Not until Ranboo came along.
He couldn’t say for certain that the same was true for Cleric, wherever he came from. As a matter of fact, his traveling companion looked remarkably put together for being an alternative version of his friend. He was mature, and maybe that was partially given by his age as he did look a bit older, or maybe he was already done going through all the bullshit and he was simply out the other side. But he could still see a certain level of resemblance between the two that confirmed that yeah, the similar looks were no coincidence. They truly were the same person. Or, well, two versions of the same guy at the very least.
Cleric offered him a hand up. Ranboo took it with a grateful smile.
Once he’d made sure that Ranboo truly wasn’t harmed by the fall, Cleric crossed his arms, scowl deepening on his face. “You know, I don’t think you should enable him like that. Tubbo once read in one of his fancy pedagogy books that it’s important to teach kids the meaning of the word no early on” he admonished, sounding like an overzealous parent. And that was where all the similarities ended.
Because, while Ranboo’s Tommy may have cooed at a giant spider and called it his precious baby boy several times since they’d all moved into the mansion, he had never once sounded so parental. It just was not like him at all. Even in their small friend group, the only one who could be seen as more of a father figure was Ranboo. And even saying that would have been a stretch. He was the leader, but he hadn’t once thought of the other two as below him or in need of guidance like children would have been. The structure they’d needed was always more of a military nature, a remnant of their time as child soldiers.
Sorcerer gasped loudly, dramatically making it known that he’d taken offense to Cleric’s comment. “I’m older than you!” he rebutted.
Cleric gave him one of his patented unimpressed mom stares. “You sure don’t act like it…”.
“It’s not my fault I wasn’t created with a stick up my ass” Sorcerer snapped back. He was smirking, obviously proud of his comeback. Ranboo was surprised that such a smart guy had missed how that childish retort did more to prove Cleric’s point than his.
Cleric also missed that fact, as he didn’t call the other out for it, instead choosing to step down to his same level and fire back another petty little insult: “Maybe that would have fixed you”.
Ranboo hoped they would start getting along sooner rather than later as he had no intention of going through a whole epic journey through an unfamiliar and possibly hostile land with their constant bickering as background noise. He would have rather stabbed his ears.
As no dialogue prompts popped up for him, he decided on his next best course of action and slammed open the door to an apothecary. They had some potions and herbs on display, so they seemed like a safe enough bet to get some healing items.
Sorcerer and Cleric didn’t follow him inside, preferring to stay out and keep their petty squabble going. Having them out of his sight sent a pang of worry through Ranboo’s heart. Ignoring it felt wrong… but, then again, he couldn’t force the other two to do anything. And that prickling of anxiety would be easier to manage than their bickering anyway. Besides, didn't he say that he wasn't attached to them yet?
The clerk was a generic short woman with rounded glasses a pudgy nose and frizzled hair. She was friendly enough and quick at her job. And her produce seemed to be a pretty decent deal. Seven gold for a basic health potion was pretty good. He grabbed three of those, one for each member of his party, and then also an energizing tea for five gold, which had five servings in it and restored a few mana points each time, and some elven bread for ten gold, that one was meant to restore stamina instead and also had five servings.
With that, he was left with enough gold for three out of four of the soups Lizzie sold and some decent base equipment to hopefully last them until their next major mission. He did wish he’d have more clues as to what their next objective may turn out to be as he did still feel rather under-prepared, but nothing had popped up after they’d completed the Great Mother one…
Well, Sorcerer had known what direction to stir Ranboo in before, maybe he’d know this time around too.
With that in mind, he made his way outside.
Sorcerer and Cleric hadn’t moved from the spot he’d left them in, but at least they’d stopped fighting. Cleric was sitting cross-legged on the ground with his back against the stone wall of the apothecary, while Sorcerer stood next to him, one foot on the ground and one against the wall he was also leaning on. They looked a bit like homeless teens in a coming-of-age movie. Though Ranboo guessed, that wasn’t too far off the mark. None of them had a house in that world. And Sorcerer in particular didn’t look like the kind of guy to have a home in general, kinda like Dream.
As he laughed quietly to himself at that thought, Ranboo’s eyes fell on his dialogue options.
> Let’s go get that soup! [May affect a party member’s trust lv]
> Sorcerer, where to next?
> Cleric, where to next?
> Let’s find somewhere to rest
> Let’s talk with some more of the locals
> … [Exit Dialogue]
Well, he was no liar.
> Let’s go get that soup!
Once again, there was no indication that the choice had affected either of his companions from a stat point of view, but Sorcerer’s bright smile and Cleric’s groan begged otherwise.
Sorcerer was skipping along excitedly as they made their way back to Lizzie’s stall. His unbridled enthusiasm was infectious, and soon Ranboo found himself grinning too. Cleric was trying to hide the fond curl of his lips by knitting his brows together, but it didn’t work. He looked like a small playful kitten more than anything. A comparison Ranboo knew would have gotten him stabbed with his own Tommy as the guy despised cats. Something about how they reminded him of all the smug bastards in his life, especially his deadbeat older brother. He wondered if Cleric held a similarly passionate opinion on the matter…
Once they got to the stall, Sorcerer stilled, all happiness and enthusiasm quickly drained out of him. The stall was still there, but no soups or bright-haired ladies were in sight. All that was left was a hastily hand-written note saying:
‘Dear customers,
I regret to inform you that the IRS paid me a visit. They did not find my ‘I do what I want’ permission slip to be endearing or sufficient legal justification to open my own business here.
They have not caught me, but I was nonetheless forced to move on to the next town. Fear not, however, my prices will still be a bargain and the law will not catch up with me any time soon! That is a promise.
Bye for now,
Your beloved Ocean Queen’
Sorcerer grabbed Ranboo’s shoulders firmly. There was a manic glint in his eyes as he spoke: “We have to find her Ranboo. I want that soup”.
Ranboo could do nothing but nod.
Notes:
And so Sorcerer's desperate quest for soup begins...
Chapter 5: New Objective Unlocked: Play Devil’s Advocate
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
After hurriedly leaving Common Hey, Cleric, Sorcerer, and Ranboo found themselves wandering an endless maze of paths in a nearby forest that supposedly led to the next town over. No law enforcement must have existed in that world because every few meters they were harassed by someone new.
Most encounters were relatively peaceful, just some street vendors wanting to scam them out of the little gold they possessed. Every time that happened, Ranboo would get the choice to engage in a fight with them supposedly to either knock them out or kill them and loot them for all they were worth. He always chose not to as it felt like a waste of time.
But a few people were not satisfied with just annoying their little group. And, well, Ranboo had no moral qualms with getting rid of threats to the safety of the general public and, more importantly, of himself and his party. It was clear that it had been intended for that to be the case, as those brawls with small groups of low-level thugs taught him how the fight mechanics worked in that universe now that he had more people in his party.
Unsurprisingly, like everything else there, the fighting was very video game-like. The world would freeze after each of his enemies attacked and he’d get a chance to select what his teammates would do. He got more of a chance to be specific if he made them fight or use one of their spells, but they also were given a button that was simply labeled ‘Act’ which was entirely unpredictable. He selected it once for Sorcerer and the guy just sat himself down and took a nap for the rest of the fight. The two times he selected it for Cleric were a bit less damaging to them as he just got distracted petting a bug for one turn once, and then threw a bunch of sand in one of their opponents’ eyes the other, which allowed Ranboo to knock out the then distracted enemy with a punch straight to their throat.
All in all, it was a learning experience.
He almost expected his traveling companions to protest against the violence. His Tommy wouldn’t, he always understood the need for war and fighting. Or, well, he understood it for as long as Ranboo had known him.
There was a time when he’d been more of a pacifist. Tubbo told him about the original L’Manburg, their childhood. A time when they’d truly believed that words could triumph over weapons. A time when they’d found bloodshed disturbing. A time when they had known no pain and their skin was still unmarred. Such an existence seemed alien to him. He only arrived later, after Tubbo had been publicly executed to satisfy a power-hungry dictator and Wilbur was nothing but a fresh and painful memory in everyone’s hearts.
But something about his teammates told him that they’d never faced the kind of hardships that hardened his two best friends. Maybe it was the lack of visible scars or the way they both carried themselves with confidence as if they were used to being atop the power hierarchy, but he’d assumed they’d have stronger moral compasses than him.
He was proven wrong as, immediately after having killed the first of the criminals who tried to attack them, Cleric T-posed over the guy’s corpse and called him a ‘fucking loser’ while Sorcerer laughed his ass off in the background and showed no signs of wanting to intervene.
He was relieved to discover that, even amongst their little group, he wasn’t exceptionally rotten. Especially as that meant that he could loot the carcasses of their victims with no fear of judgment. That earned them a total of two golds and several food items. Not bad for a few days' worth of mass murdering.
Though he still would have preferred just being able to travel undisturbed.
Most of their journey proceeded at a snail's pace. What should have taken them only a couple of days by foot ended up as a five-day ordeal and, by the time they arrived at Maple Groove, the next town over, they were exhausted and they’d forgotten the purpose of their excursion. They wandered aimlessly around the colorful town, ignoring as best as they could the people dancing around them and singing loudly in their ears, in search of a tavern or inn they could rest in comfortably when Sorcerer spotted pink strands of hair billowing in the wind and picked up on a familiar barely-edible-concoction smell.
Sorcerer didn’t miss a beat before he started pulling Ranboo and Cleric through the writhing crowd and toward the other side of the street where Lizzie was trying her best to catch the attention of any passerby she could with her catchy tunes with no success whatsoever. Either they couldn't hear her, or her offers were not alluring enough for the common folk.
Ranboo couldn’t focus on that, however, as his eyes were caught on a poster a public worker, based on their blue jumpsuit, was sticking to a wall. It depicted someone incredibly familiar with a sword hanging ominously over his head in the middle of a courtroom. The poster invited anyone who so wished to assist in the trial and subsequent public execution of a foreigner who, a couple of days prior, had been caught red-handed on the scene of the crime of a quadruple homicide. Whoever the illustrator was had done a fantastic job capturing the likeness of the boy because Ranboo didn’t struggle to identify them as yet another Tommy.
Seriously, what was it with the creator of that world and continuously adding new Tommy-lookalikes every time they needed a plot-relevant character?
“Hey there Player, stop staring at nothing and get me my soup” Sorcerer’s gruff voice finally ripped his attention away from that too-young and too-scared face.
He approached Lizzie, intent on finally getting this ordeal over and done with so Sorcerer could stop annoying him, and his eyes went wide as he noticed that the price of every single item on her menu had quadrupled and he could no longer afford even the cheapest of the options.
You have: 17g
> Buy Common Mysterious Soup (20g)
> Buy Rare Mysterious Soup (32g)
> Buy Epic Mysterious Soup (48g)
> Buy Legendary Mysterious Soup (80g)
> Sell
> Talk
Sorcerer would be so pissed…
Desperately, he selected the option to talk hoping to be able to barter a bit on those prices. He needed to get at least the Common Mysterious Soup or he would never hear the end of it. And then Cleric would add to it by giving him a stern lecture about making promises he couldn’t keep and enabling bad behaviors or something along those lines. He was not gonna survive this failure.
Lizzie responded with a sheepish smile that told Ranboo that she knew exactly what was bothering him. What a sneaky little fish. Or, well, axolotl technically. Were axolotl fish? Was that one of those things that schooling would have taught him if it was a viable option growing up? Who knows. Regardless, that wasn't what mattered at that moment. The only thing he cared about was getting to the bottom of this scam.
> Hi again!
> Why have you increased the prices so much?
> What are all the posters about?
> Any new clues on the egg you lost?
> … [Exit Dialogue]
He barely read through all the other options as his eyes immediately found the one he was looking for.
> Why have you increased the prices so much?
Lizzie sighed. “I knew you’d ask…” she muttered sounding all sullen. She must have hoped that he wouldn’t mention the elephant in the room there. Too bad, Ranboo was not afraid of awkward small talk… most of the time. Well, he was afraid of it any time he wasn’t actively working toward an objective but was instead just trying to have a relatively pleasant time because those were the occasions where he fucked up the most. “Business has not been going well. The people of this dang town are not interested in my amazing merchant talk, my top-quality goods, or my singing skills. And, on top of that, now their attention is all taken up by some kind of event. So what little I manage to sell has to be quite expensive to make up for the lack in business…”.
He couldn’t blame her for that then, could he?
He was upset still that he couldn’t manage to buy Sorcerer his soup, especially as he knew that meant an eternity of grumpiness ahead, but it wasn’t Lizzie’s fault. She just picked the wrong town to start a business in. And, certainly, once the IRS caught up with her once more, she’d move and her produce would become cheap again. If he just had the patience to wait, all his problems may very well solve themselves on their own. Or he could even come back once he gathered enough money to buy the soup at its current price. It would take a lot of farming random crooks right outside of town, which he was not looking forward to, but it was feasible. It was also more time-consuming than it was optimal for them. For him. He needed to get back and he couldn't have such long detours every time.
Though maybe there was something Ranboo could do about it to move things along faster.
To confirm this theory of his, he selected another of the dialogue options:
> What are all the posters about?
Lizzie scowled. “I don’t know, but whatever it is, it’s stealing all my customers!” she huffed.
It may not have seemed like much, but that was all the confirmation Ranboo needed that the ‘event’ she’d mentioned was indeed the trial being depicted on those posters. And, well, after his Tommy’s trial, he’d lost the little respect he had for legal proceedings that may have once stopped him from stepping in when he had no business to.
He exited the dialogue with Lizzie and approached one of the posters. As soon as he did, he got the chance to investigate it. So he ignored Sorcerer’s grumbled protests about yet again having no deliciously inedible soup to slurp down and Cleric’s giddy ‘I told you so’ and did just that. As soon as he did, words flashed in front of his eyes: ‘New Objective Unlocked: Play Devil’s Advocate’.
He needed the universe to be more clear with that stuff because that wording was incredibly cryptic.
At least investigating the poster let him learn the date and place of the trial. Everything would go down in the Justice Theater the next morning at dawn. The choice to hold a serious legal proceeding in a theater seemed wholly out of place. It almost felt disrespectful toward the four victims and, more importantly, it felt like an insult to proper procedures.
The simmering rage the whole thing caused in him reminded him vaguely of another trial he’d been in. One time when he’d still been so useless that he’d failed to protect his very first friend or at least to share his guilty verdict. He still remembered it all so vividly, how Tommy couldn’t stop fidgeting with his bandanna and pulling it up over his mouth every time it would even so much as hint at wanting to slip down. He remembered how Tubbo couldn’t look at either of them, his fury so bright it blinded him. And he remembered Dream’s taunts. His little jabs at Tommy. All the intimidating glares he would throw Ranboo’s way to make sure he wouldn’t let out so much as a peep.
He’d been pathetic and selfish back then.
All he did was whine a bit about the injustice of the world after everything was already said and done and it didn’t matter anymore. He didn’t protest as Tommy was dragged away. He didn’t try to push Tubbo on pardoning Tommy’s very minor crime. He didn't even make it known that he'd been just as much of a participant in the arson. He did nothing.
And, sure, he’d repented for his inaction later on. Until recently, Dream’s blood had been the only one that marred his hands. For Tommy, he’d cut out his tongue and shoved it so far down his throat that he choked on it. And, for Tubbo, he bashed his skull in once he’d stopped twitching from the lack of oxygen. But it never felt like enough. In his heart, he always held the belief that it was too little and far too late.
He wouldn’t let his past repeat.
He carefully filed away the clues he got and turned to face his companions once more with a sigh.
> We should look around town a bit for clues
> Let’s talk with the locals
> I don’t think there is much this town can offer us. Let’s leave
> Let’s go to the Justice Theater and scoop out the place
> I’m tired, we should find a cheap inn
> … [Exit Dialogue]
He wished one of the options would have allowed him to assure Sorcerer that he would get him his Primedamned soup. Eventually. And that, while that wasn’t the only reason why he wanted to disrupt that random public trial, it was still very much one of the main ones. Sadly, the universe hated him and gave him only the most basic choices one could think of.
The third one in particular only served to further sour his mood.
Of course, he’d get the opportunity to be yet again nothing but a spineless coward. It felt like the very existence of that option was mocking him. It was a hurtful reminder of his failings.
Almost entirely out of spite, Ranboo decided that this time around he wouldn’t only stand up for Tommy, but he’d make sure his friend was found to be innocent. Either because the boy indeed hadn’t murdered anybody, which he kinda doubted knowing his Tommy’s track record and the blatant disregard for human lives his two party members had exhibited so far, or because Ranboo managed to convincingly frame somebody else for his crimes. He didn’t care which way things turned out. All he cared about was that the trial ended differently this time around.
More determined than ever, he slammed his hand down on the option that seemed to serve his purpose the best:
> We should look around town a bit for clues
Cleric seemed confused, though he didn’t question Ranboo’s choices. He seemed to only really do that with Sorcerer.
Talking about his masked teammate, there was a knowing glint in his gaze that Ranboo didn’t like. Sorcerer’s intense violet eyes felt like they were looking past the immediate connection to the trial Ranboo wanted to attend. Deeper. They were reaching down into his soul, pulling his shameful past up and scrutinizing it. It felt as if he was standing in front of XD once more, as he’d done when Sam had stabbed a sword through him for the crime of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. As if Sorcerer was passing judgment on his life. Deciding where he’d belong, even though there was no Heaven or Hell, just Limbo. The lonely, unchangeable, final destination everyone would reach one day. The eternal wait.
Back then, XD had been impressed. So many souls had been fed to him through Ranboo’s will that he’d given him another chance. Another life.
Ranboo was certain that eventually, he’d come to regret it.
Much like the God before him, Sorcerer gave him a small nod. A permission of sorts to continue down his path. An acknowledgment that whatever he was doing was indeed still entertaining enough to be worth watching.
Ranboo’s throat dried up, goosebumps were running along his arms, and he could feel his tail wind itself tightly around his left leg. He was tense.
Logically, he knew he didn’t need to be.
Weird or not, Sorcerer was still a version of Tommy. A version of him whose hobbies consisted exclusively of being a menace to society and committing marriage fraud. And maybe now also of chasing soups down. He was as much of an open book as his best friend had always been. A British teen on the outside and a cranky old man on the inside.
He was harmless.
He was.
Right?
He took a few deep breaths, making sure to count to give himself a rhythm so he could avoid devolving into a hysterical mess by the end of the exercise, and pushed himself off the wall and closer to Sorcerer. Eyes still locked onto the other's.
Slow and steady.
He wanted to talk. To wipe that smug grin he always had, off the other man’s face. But his brain wouldn’t stop whispering to him that if he broke the eye contact for even a fraction of a second to see if he even had any dialogue options he’d lose himself.
“Yish, you two need to get a room” Cleric muttered. A few too many moments of silent and intense staring must have gone by for his comfort.
Sorcerer snorted and, just like that, the aura of power that had surrounded him until a moment prior vanished and Ranboo managed to look away. There were no words in his field of view. Just the uneven pebbles that made up the floor of the dirty alley they’d stepped into to look at the poster.
“Didn’t know you were a prude” Sorcerer teased.
Cleric rolled his eyes and an exasperated sigh left his mouth. “It’s not my fault you two keep acting like Big Q and Wilbur, staring longingly into each other’s eyes like the pricks you are” he gingerly fired back, his eyes narrowed into a glare.
Ranboo wanted to assure him that there was no longing there. As a matter of fact, he could barely even tolerate Sorcerer at the best of times. He, however, was not given the words to say so. And, of course, his masked companion couldn’t resist making the situation worse. “If you’re so jealous I won’t mind including you from now on in the staring sessions~”.
Cleric gagged.
Ranboo had never seen such a violently disgusted reaction to a relatively innocent flirt. He especially hadn’t expected it from the one of them who had openly admitted to having kids before, which Ranboo assumed must have meant he was in a relationship because he would trust no version of Tommy to be a single parent. Not even one like Cleric who was pretty well put-together and seemingly capable of taking care of his own needs at the very least. Something he’d proved during their journey to Maple Groove as he reminded them to eat three full meals a day, drink plenty of water, and rest every night for at least six hours and impeccably did all of that too just to flex on them that he could.
He was amused. He could tell that Sorcerer was too, even if he tried to act all offended by Cleric’s complete refusal. It wasn’t very convincing when he was cackling under his breath.
Ignoring their antics, Ranboo started walking around, this time hoping to find the scene of the quadruple homicide. He heard hurried steps falling in line with his as the other two followed. They momentarily ceased their bickering to keep up, but Ranboo knew that the truce was only a temporary one. They’d be back at it as soon as they found what he was looking for.
Surprisingly, he didn’t mind their liveliness too much.
They were pleasant company. Most of the time at least.
Though Ranboo didn’t know how helpful they would be with the investigation with their constant petty bickering. He was glad that he hadn’t picked the option to talk with the locals as he realized now that the other two would have most likely scared them all away.
Either way, he didn’t care too much. He’d learned to be observant because of his role in the little trio he’d found himself leading back in his universe. He could knock this whole thing out on his own with no problem. It would be better, actually. It would feel more earned once he scored the new Tommy his freedom. And he needed to deserve this, he needed that forgiveness. The one his Tommy gave him so readily without him even having to ask for it as that was just the kind of person his best friend had always been. Trusting. Overly-forgiving. Loyal. It was the apology his Tubbo didn’t even think of beating out of him like he would have with anyone else to defend his soulmate’s honor despite being the most overprotective dumbass out there. Because he loved Ranboo too. Because they were friends. Because he wanted to keep him around after losing so many people in his life again and again.
Ranboo knew he hadn’t been deserving before.
He knew that he had to do things properly this time around. And he would do them his way.
Notes:
Ah, Ranboo and his immense amount of guilt for things he could barely control. You love to see it!
Also, Sorcerer may be an insufferable idiot at times, but he's my insufferable idiot and I care for he <3
Not enough to give him his soup any time soon though.
Chapter Text
Simply wandering around Maple Groove and keeping his eyes open for anything suspicious, Ranboo picked up on quite a few clues for the case he was trying to solve.
First of all, in a local newspaper, next to an article about the recently thriving orphanage in Common Hey that made him suddenly very glad he’d taken his time with picking a good candidate for the Great Mother position, he found a rather graphic theater ad that showcased a picture of the new Tommy wearing an oddly familiar trench coat with blood splatters and grime all over it, standing amidst the dead men. Notably in the photo, his hands were clean and the bloody knife that he supposedly used to carry out the slaughter was laying on the ground several blocks away from him. It was barely visible as it peeked out from underneath one of the corpses.
Another important detail in the picture was that the blood on Tommy's coat looked old. It was darker in color and it made the fabric of the garment bend weirdly in places. The old thing was ruined beyond repair and it must have been uncomfortable and itchy with how rigid it looked. But that stood in stark contrast to the still-fresh blood from all four of the victims lazily flowing on the pavement.
On top of that, and Ranboo wasn’t surprised that no one else had caught this one detail as not that many people had an almost symbiotic relationship with an alternate version of the main suspect of the quadruple homicide, the boy didn’t look guilty in the picture. He looked shocked and utterly confused. Yes, one could argue that it was because he’d been caught red-handed, but that didn’t add up for Ranboo. If he truly had just murdered four random people, what was stopping him from killing the photographer as well and getting away with his crime completely witness-free? It seemed more likely to Ranboo that the reason why he looked so surprised was because he’d just gotten to that universe and immediately found himself in an uncomfortable situation on top of him probably being startled by the sudden flash of a camera being shoved in his face.
That alone had been enough for him to become suspicious, but it wasn’t even all he found.
Once he got to the crime scene, where thankfully he was allowed to take a picture and save his progress, he took note of the footprints around it. Somebody had walked through the mess of blood and guts that was everything that remained of the four men after they’d been left out unprotected and free for the taking for any wild animal that passed by. Whoever it was though, was wearing shoes. It was very obvious even just at a cursory glance. Well, in all the posters showing off the boy about to be executed, he was wearing that ugly trench coat, a yellow cardigan with a bloody cut down the middle, and a pair of beige shorts. Nothing else.
Ranboo had found the detail of him being barefoot weird from the start, but he hadn’t questioned it originally. They seemed to have found themselves in a properly odd town. People there treated life as if it were a musical, dancing and singing through everything without a care in the world. But, comparing his appearance with the picture in the newspaper, it was obvious that they’d just edited an image of him onto a different background with still all the actual clothing he’d been wearing when he was arrested.
That became especially obvious once he noticed the few barefoot prints that had been saved after days of evidence contamination leaving the scene in a hurry. Possibly while being dragged away by whoever had been flanking him wearing heavy military boots. He recognized those tracks because his Tommy and Tubbo back home almost exclusively wore those kind of shoes. A member of the police force maybe?
So, all the town idiots truly believed that there had been a photographer on the scene with his camera at the ready and a police officer close by enough to get there while the blood was still fresh, but also that somehow neither of them had thought to intervene and stop the crime before everything went to shit? Or, at the very least, that neither of them heard anything as the killing was taking place? Why had the photographer not thought of catching the guy in the act? Why had the police officer in the area not considered that maybe if he heard the pretty distinctive noises of four people getting stabbed to death he should have maybe, just maybe, checked it out?
And that was another thing, the four dead people were all full-grown adults. All of them looked much healthier than the scrawny ass blond boy that supposedly killed them. So how had he alone gotten the jump on them? And it wasn’t like they didn’t fight back. Ranboo could still see the clean cuts on the few arms and hands that remained and those suggested that the men tried to defend themselves. Maybe they even tried to disarm their assailant. And, sure, maybe this Tommy, like his one, had a military background. Even if it was only as a child soldier that still could give him an advantage in a one-on-one fight. But with four people bigger and stronger than him? Even being a master martial artist would have meant nothing. He was no Technoblade!
On top of all that, the bodies were spread out, an odd little detail that pointed toward there having been different fights going on at the same time. The scene would have undoubtedly been more focused had Tommy taken them on all at once as moving around would have been a waste of energy that he desperately needed if he hoped to take on four opponents at the same time. And he probably would have chosen a corner so at least a couple of his sides would have been protected by brick walls. That was if he’d already rooted out escape as an option.
The whole debacle smelled fishy. And Ranboo could tell when someone was being set up because he’d framed plenty of people himself in the past!
“I wish I had my cleaning supplies right about now. This looks like the kinda mess my Boss would leave behind…” Cleric lamented after a few minutes of them just hanging out in front of the crime scene. He was cringing looking at the bloody mess on the ground as if it personally offended him. Maybe it did. He kinda looked like the type of guy to have germophobia issues.
Sorcerer let out a shocked sputtering sound. “What kinda person do you work for?! And here I thought that you were one of those prim and proper church-goers types…” he shook his head before dramatically pressing both of his hands over his heart. “I almost feel betrayed”.
Ranboo knew that he was playing it up because they’d both already seen Cleric kill by then. And T-pose over a corpse. He was still not over that. Besides, they’d met him after he did a hostile takeover of an orphanage, dude was anything but a saint!
That said, the comment about his boss did intrigue Ranboo too. So he perused his dialogue options to see if there was anything more he could gather about that topic.
> What kind of job did you do back home again?
> Is your boss not a good person?
> I think we should focus back on the case at hand
> Do you mean just the stabbing or the animal damage that came afterward as well?
> Sorcerer, stop being stupid, we’ve all killed people together
> I also thought you’d be more Cleric-like
> … [Exit Dialogue]
For once, he had a pretty varied assortment of options. Had the designer of that world finally heard his internal complaints and listened to his advice to stop being a lazy ass? He sure hoped so.
That said, the choices being more interesting did come with an unforeseen side-effect. Namely, that he wanted to try out several of them. He was curious about his teammates as neither of them had disclosed all that much about themselves so far. Though, to be fair, neither had he bound as he was by the mechanics of that universe and by his chronic lack of trust.
Still, he couldn’t help but be intrigued by all the little comments they would let slip here and there. Their lives seemed to be so different from the one he’d been leading back in his universe. For example, Sorcerer seemed not to know what L’Manburg was when Cleric had mentioned that it was his city. Meanwhile, Cleric had talked about it as if it still existed in the present and as if it was a huge metropolis and not the relatively small settlement it had remained in Ranboo’s universe throughout its very short existence.
Cleric was also apparently a young adult. He hadn’t directly mentioned his age, but he had snarkily told Sorcerer to not treat him like a child just because he did not enjoy his incessant obnoxious flirting, a sentiment Ranboo tended to share, as he hadn’t been one for a while. It could have been a metaphorical statement, but since he did have children, like, actual children he actively took care of, not like the zombie piglin and the giant spider living up in the attic of Ranboo’s, Tubbo's, and Tommy's shared mansion, he wouldn’t be surprised if the guy meant it literally. And he did look a bit older than Ranboo’s Tommy who was himself already seventeen and would turn eighteen in less than six months.
Sorcerer was not exempt from Ranboo’s observations either, and he hadn’t missed that his eyes were a weird color and that he had half a skull stuck to his face that he had yet to take off. If he even could take it off, because he wore that thing even while sleeping, and that could not be comfortable. He doubted anyone would do that if they weren't forced to. He also knew that the guy got hitched out of love for the art of committing marriage fraud. Apparently. Though how anyone could stand the guy enough to tie the knot with him, even if it was to screw with their local government, was beyond Ranboo. Whoever they were, they must have had the patience of a saint and an equally ardent passion for scamming local authorities. Either that or they were forced to at gunpoint. One could never be sure with Sorcerer.
So yeah. He had very good bases to believe that their universes were nothing like his own. And he wanted to study them under a microscope like little bugs to figure out all the incongruences.
Alas, as he usually couldn’t go for more than one line of dialogue with anyone but Lizzie, he decided to pick the option that gave him the most information about his traveling companion:
> What kind of job did you do back home again?
“I’m the personal assistant of a rich manchild” Cleric responded with equal parts pride and scorn. After noticing both Ranboo’s and Sorcerer’s unsatisfied expressions he let out a resigned sigh, something he seemed to do a lot around them, and expanded on his answer: “I clean for him, cook for him, take care of his talking fox, though there isn’t much there to do as Fundy is a very independent guy, occasionally bring him on recreational outings, and accompany him on missions for his job”. He underlined each new point by counting them out with his fingers.
The mention of Fundy gave him a decent guess as to who Cleric’s boss might have been.
Ranboo had barely exchanged a couple of words with Wilbur Soot before but he knew he didn’t like the guy. He seemed to be pompous, judgmental, and irresponsible. However, his biggest sin was undoubtedly how much he harmed Tommy every time he decided to crash land into his life for a while.
Tubbo seemed to have his gripes with the guy too, but they always felt less personal. He mentioned once to Ranboo in confidence that he just never saw Wilbur as family, so he couldn’t truly hate him with the passion Tommy’s anger against him burned with. To him, Wilbur always felt like a collateral effect of having Tommy as a soulmate. That was about it. No deeper connection to be betrayed, no real affection to give his emotions the depth one may have expected after knowing the disgraced president for such a long time. His leaving every time things got tough would have felt at best like an annoyance to him had it not been for how much it left Tommy utterly devastated.
Sorcerer, ignorant of all the internal turmoil Ranboo was having, just nodded along to anything Cleric said. “Right right. So where does the disembowelment come in?” he asked afterward with an irritating level of nonchalance.
“Well…”. Cleric was fidgeting with his hands and looking anywhere but at them.
Ranboo couldn’t tell why he’d suddenly gotten so nervous when, like, again, they had killed people together already. None of them had the moral high ground there. They all sucked equally. If anything, Cleric had shown to at least care about the well-being of random children he encountered which gave him a bit of an edge compared to the other two.
“Well?” Sorcerer prodded again, merciless in his pursuit.
“You know how it is when you work for rich people… especially but not exclusively when they’re supervillains. And my boss happens to be the number one in the city in that category” a nervous chuckle left his lips as he fidgeted with the collar of his priestly dress. At the lack of reactions from his audience, his face fell and his tone went flat: “I’ve seen him explode quite a few unfortunate fuckers”. He waved his hands in front of himself and rushed out a series of justifications that Ranboo didn’t even think he needed in the first place: “He does pay well though! And he gives me very flexible hours so I can bring the kids to and from kindergarten easily. And he’s actually paying for their school now. And our apartment. And he bought us another apartment next to our old one so we and the kiddos could have a bit more space. Really, it’s objectively the best job a high school dropout like me could hope to score even taking the illegal aspects of it into account…”.
Despite not understanding half of his words, Ranboo could see his point. Having children that he primarily took care of meant that he had to be willing to make some sacrifices. And those could only result in either less time with the kids or being flexible with his morals. He knew what he would have chosen if he ever had a desire for children, though that had not been the case so far.
Though, to be fair, he did pretty much already make that choice when he’d fallen into the role of leader with his two best friends. They weren’t kids, but he was still responsible for their well-being. And there had been a time when he couldn’t bear the sight of blood and when the very idea of harming someone felt horrifying to him. And, although it had never really been about the person getting harmed, but more so about it meaning he’d be taking a clear stance against something, which Ranboo used to abhor, it still led to him adapting his morals to his new needs.
It wasn’t a one-and-done deal either, as he mostly still hated choosing sides. Unless the side was that of Tommy and Tubbo.
If other people wanted to start wars that the three of them were not a faction in, they could go ahead. He would remain as uninvolved with those as humanly possible and, if asked for an opinion, he would give a polite smile and explain that he wasn’t informed enough to formulate one. He’d become an expert at evading uncomfortable questions by now.
“You say that as if it’s some kind of big secret that crime pays the bills” Sorcerer rolled his eyes. He had the tone of someone talking out of his ass about something he’d only ever heard in passing and never actually had to deal with himself. “I tell you, it’s either illegal activities or crimes against nature. And Rose is a lovely lady, so I’d rather people keep their petty squabbles between themselves”.
And now Ranboo was even more lost.
Cleric and Sorcerer had to be the only two people in existence with the ability to give him more questions than answers with every word they uttered. At least hanging around them was never boring.
“Right, of course” Cleric agreed, despite clearly being as confused about whatever Sorcerer was blathering on about as Ranboo was. He was even scratching his head in thought. He was the picture of a no thoughts head empty kinda guy at that moment. “Anyway-” he turned to Ranboo, wanting to move along now that nothing useful was being added to the conversation. Or so he assumed, at least. “What do we do now Big R? ‘Cause you seem about done inspecting this place”.
He was.
He had gotten far more clues than he’d been expecting too. Mostly because he originally went in with the mindset of assessing how bad the situation was and how feasible it would be to pin the crime on someone else only to find that the Tommy he was about to defend most likely wasn’t even guilty in the first place. Well, his trench coat showed that he’d killed something at some point, but whatever that was, it was probably in the past and in another universe altogether. The theater kids of Maple Groove had no jurisdiction over that kind of crime. Assuming it had been a crime and not the guy just working as a butcher in the world’s most unpractical clothes for the job.
As always, branching choices appeared before him. He was used to it by now. The lack of freedom of speech was no longer as much of an annoyance to him as he originally felt it to be. Though he still wished he was allowed to say more. Either by getting options that allowed for him to ask multiple things at once or simply by being granted the ability to talk more often.
> Let’s talk with the locals
> Let’s go to the Justice Theater and scoop out the place
> I’m tired, we should find a cheap inn and rest until it’s time for the trial
> … [Exit Dialogue]
The dialogue in front of him was familiar. It was the same he was given before when he first unlocked the new objective. Or, well, it was similar enough.
The option to just skip town had disappeared, he assumed he was too far down that particular rabbit hole by then to just dip. He had to see it through. And, to be fair, it wasn’t like he would have picked it even if he was given the chance to anyway. So he didn’t miss it.
The inn option had also been modified slightly from what he remembered. It hadn’t mentioned the trial before. Despite his at times spotty memory, he was pretty sure he would have remembered that detail. However, the addition did feel reassuring as he would have worried about the possibility of simply missing the court date without it.
That said, it was all similar enough that it still felt like a lazy cop-out. And right after he praised whoever was in charge for finally putting in some effort in too! Gods, because it had to be some kind of God that brought them there as no other entity would have that kind of power, never ceased to disappoint him.
He ended up settling on the only one that wasn’t threatening to be a headache and a half:
> I’m tired, we should find a cheap inn and rest until it’s time for the trial
Truth be told, traveling so long and then running around all day in an incredibly noisy town that was buzzing with life at every corner, had left him far more exhausted than he was used to. It didn’t help that his Enderwalk side didn’t seem to be there, so he couldn’t even delegate the use of their shared body and catch a break once in a while. He hoped the other guy was just buried deep into the recesses of his subconscious and not fully gone. He would miss them otherwise. And he knew Tommy and Tubbo would miss the cuddling sessions with them too. They liked spending time with all sides of Ranboo, clingy one included.
Prime… he really missed them. He hoped they were okay. He hoped they were taking care of each other if caring for themselves was too much, as it tended to be for them. He hoped they weren’t just letting themselves waste away sprawled out on the floor of the mansion, waiting for Shroud to get hungry enough to mistake them for giant bugs and eat them.
He wanted to promise himself that he’d be back soon, but so many of his choices were starting to feel antithetical to that. Logically, he didn’t need any more members for his party. He had Sorcerer who was a decently heavy hitter and Cleric who could heal them and take care of them outside of fights too. He could probably make it through the whole thing with just the two of them by his side… but the thought of leaving copies of his friends behind to suffer didn’t sit right with him. Especially not those that could end up killed!
Maybe he was going soft…
He let himself be dragged to a nearby inn by Sorcerer while he was still lost in thought. Cleric took care of paying, though he did get the coins from Ranboo as he had none of his own. He got the three of them only one room as that was everything they could afford at the moment. As it turned out, ten gold for the small ass cubicle they got was the biggest rip-off in history, but Ranboo didn’t even have the energy to get angry about it.
He just wanted to sleep off the guilt and the ache in his chest where his longing to go home was scraping the inside of his rib cage.
Notes:
Ranboo is truly having A Time.
At least Cleric is here to cheer us all up with his shenanigans!
Chapter 7: The Trial
Notes:
Little warning that this fic, just like all my other fics, will be on hiatus during the month of August because I'm traveling a lot and I don't have time for fics. So I'll be seeing all of you again on the 6th of September!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The Justice Opera Theater was the biggest building Ranboo had ever laid eyes on. From the outside, it almost looked like a greenhouse mixed in with Eret’s museum.
Huge marble columns greeted them at the front. On them rested an entablature with highly ornate triglyphs depicting various scenes. They started on the left with a woman standing in the middle holding scales, the sun to her right, and a deep darkness to her left, Ranboo figured it was probably a humanized version of the idea of justice. It continued with the woman handing the scales to a group of men. And then with one of those men holding his hand out toward the darkness from the first scene. There were some gory depictions of violent crimes in the next few ones, and then the story came to a close with the man, now consumed by darkness, surrounded by all the others from the second scene, with the scales floating above them shining bright like the sun. By comparison, the pediment was rather simple, only sporting one golden statue, positioned to look as if it was emerging from the marble behind it, of the lady with the scales held in front of her staring straight ahead with a morose expression.
The imagery reminded him of some of the depictions of Lady Prime he’d seen before, but he doubted they’d have the same Gods there as they did back in his universe. Maybe they just presided over similar domains and the coded imagery to showcase that matched? Whatever the case was, he recognized a connection there that made him groan in annoyance.
He may have had a particular distaste for XD, but that didn’t mean he had a favorable opinion of the other pompous divine beings that did nothing but sit on their asses and observe the happenings beneath them with cold indifference. No matter how much his Tommy tried to convince him that Lady Prime was different from the others and only preached acceptance and unconditional love. They were all still pretty much useless.
Behind that classically built entrance, he noticed a glass dome with a golden frame supporting it standing tall and proud. It reflected the sun's light in a way that was almost blinding from his spot on the ground. It was an excessive splurge of riches that the town didn’t abound with from what he’d been able to observe.
Affixed to two of the columns were the same posters he’d seen all around town the day prior advertising the trial, though spotting them this time hadn’t been easy with the herd of people amassed there. Elders, children, and adults alike had come out to witness the gory spectacle. There was a general hum of anticipation in the air. A malicious glee that twisted everyone’s visage into a mass of comedy masks. None of them retained an ounce of their humanity as they lost their minds to the mob mentality.
The only exception seemed to be a young blond boy sitting by his lonesome on a shaded corner of the stairs leading up to the main entrance. His only company was the golden retriever lying by his side which was about double his size.
Ranboo wasn’t even the one who noticed them. It was Sorcerer who looked over and immediately elbowed Cleric in the ribs to get his attention. “Isn’t that the kid who kicked your ass in chess?” he asked.
Sure enough, the kid did look like the same small Tommy.
How he’d made it there by himself with all the thugs on the way, Ranboo didn’t know. He originally assumed he would never see the young boy again after they were done with Cleric’s introduction. He hadn’t seemed to be too relevant to the plot. He still didn’t. However, his presence did make Ranboo wonder if the creator of that universe had been running out of ideas for background characters’ designs, and maybe that was why there were so many copies of Tommy everywhere…
It always came down to laziness and lack of originality.
Either that, or there was something he was missing.
“Oh yeah” Cleric confirmed after a moment. “I wonder what he’s doing here…” he hummed, staring at the younger copy of himself in quiet contemplation. Eventually, though, he gave up on the smart act, which didn’t really suit him anyway, and just shrugged. “Maybe he got adopted” was the best explanation he managed to come up with after several minutes of reflection.
Ranboo loved Cleric dearly, his dumbassery never failed to put a smile on his face.
Sorcerer must have agreed with Ranboo’s sentiment as he immediately started cackling. “Does he look like someone who’s got parents to you?” he questioned once his fit of laughter died down enough to allow him to speak, gesturing at the crumpled look of the boy’s clothing and his slightly malnourished frame. He still looked weirdly muscular for such a small child, and Ranboo would not be making the mistake of underestimating him if he was ever to go up against him in a strategy game, but he did not look well cared for.
Cleric took notice of his condition and frowned.
Despite apparently working for a renowned criminal with a kill count in the hundreds back in his world, he never could quite help his bleeding heart. He always gave Ranboo these pleading sorts of looks when he saw someone or something that looked defenseless enough to kick his parental instincts into overdrive. And, every time, Ranboo had to remind him that they probably would be facing many dangers as they continued exploring that world and coming closer to the inevitable showdown with whoever brought them there. Being by their side wasn’t safe for anyone. Especially small squishable bugs and tiny children. And the young Tommy fell in that second category.
With one last sad look the kid’s way, Cleric turned around and started heading up the stairs. “At least he’s got a furry friend to keep him company” he mumbled under his breath as he passed Ranboo. His mood was only bound to get worse as the day proceeded. After all, they were there to stop an innocent teen from getting executed, if anything was gonna trigger his mama bear nature, that was it.
The heavy mahogany doors blocking the entrance were still firmly shut in an attempt to keep the bloodthirsty audience out until it was time for the show. It was working so far, but Ranboo doubted they’d hold indefinitely. Once the mob was done studying the posters they’d start pressing themselves against them and pushing all together and there was no telling what they could achieve then.
If Ranboo still had the capacity to give a shit about anyone he didn’t know, he’d be fearing for the safety of the workers inside. He’d lost that ability already, however. So instead he eyed the crowd wondering if he could use them for his benefit.
Sure enough, above both the posters was a green cross icon. He assumed that similarly to the drop of blood from before when he and Sorcerer were locked in the basement of the orphanage, it would give him access to the abilities of one of his party members. Presumably Cleric in this case.
Much like last time, a list labeled ‘Cantrips and Spells’ opened up when he interacted with the floating symbol, though this one was much longer. Almost overwhelmingly so. It was comprised of eighteen different options, none of which were accompanied by an explanation, and a lot of which sounded far too similar without one.
Under the ‘Cantrips’ section there were:
> Spare the Dying
> Mending
> Resistance
All three of them sounded like they could come in handy at some point, but he didn’t see any way to use them to interact with the posters. Unless the last one triggered a hostile poster takeover of Maple Groove which could serve as a useful distraction to sneak into the theater and break their target out unnoticed. He doubted it though.
The ‘Spells’ section was where the amount of options became unreasonable. The list contained the following:
> Purify Food and Drink
> Inflict Wounds
> Bless
> Cure Wounds
> Bane
> Command
> Create or Destroy Water
> Detect Evil and Good
> Detect Magic
> Detect Poison and Disease
> Guiding Bolt
> Healing Word
> Protection from Evil and Good
> Sanctuary
> Shield of Faith
Ranboo would be the first to admit that he could have probably tried to get familiar with all of those or at least almost all of them during the fights against the thugs they’d engaged in. But back then he figured that Inflict Wounds, Cure Wounds, and Shield of Faith would be enough, and none of those fights had been challenging enough to make him reevaluate his strategy.
Now, however, he was starting to regret his life decisions as he was at a loss.
Some of the effects of those spells were at least obvious enough for him to discard them as options at the moment. He didn’t need some magic bullshit to tell him that the posters were full of evil intent, he had eyes for that. And they didn’t need to heal some pieces of paper, though doing that might have turned them back into trees and that could have been interesting to observe.
Out of nothing but desperation, he ended up settling on the only choice that seemed to make at least a modicum of sense:
> Create or Destroy Water
Cleric grinned, suddenly turning to the poster Ranboo had pushed him toward unknown to him. “I know how to get their attention away from that damn thing” he declared, before raising his arms to the sky and mumbling something about Tubbo being King and Ranboo being the Beloved and whatnot. Ranboo was pretty sure it was supposed to be a prayer to his patron God but, then again, it didn’t seem like Cleric had one of those. He usually just rambled on about his family when casting spells. It worked, however, so Ranboo wouldn’t complain. This time too, the mundane words did the trick, and a ton of water appeared above the poster before promptly crashing down on it and ripping it to shreds.
The unhappy and now wet crowd moved in to merge with the one still stationed at the other poster. Something he easily managed to fix by repeating the same process with that one too.
There was a crescendo in the humming of the mob as they descended upon the doors like a herd of angry buffaloes. The doors soon came off their hinges and slammed to the ground, the sound so loud it reverberated through Ranboo’s bones.
It was a sight to behold.
They couldn’t waste time admiring the view, however, so Ranboo grabbed one of Cleric’s and one of Sorcerer’s hands and pulled them inside quickly. None of the staff paid them any mind busy as they were dealing with the small riot on their hands, so they were free to explore at will.
Finding the entrance to the stage was easy. There were big yellow arrows, all clearly labeled, on every wall they found. They didn’t all point to the stage, of course. Some helped direct people to the jury's entrance and some to the auditorium or the gallery, but they weren’t of interest to Ranboo at the moment. He was solely focused on his objective. If he had time, he’d leave the exploration for later. At least to check if Lizzie’s lost egg was there somewhere so they could get the Primedamned soup for free.
Yes, that was still on his mind. He was hoping above all else that Sorcerer would magically become less insufferable once he had what he wanted. He doubted it, but he’d rather be proven wrong without a shadow of a doubt before giving up.
Before entering the stage they came across a nervous-looking lawyer. They were nobody Ranboo recognized, so either a native to that world or someone, like Lizzie, who’d been transported there from somewhere completely alien to him. They were, however, vaguely reminiscent of Tubbo. Short, shaggy brown hair with some strands escaping the messy bun on the back to fall over their eyes. The shape of their face was different, but for a single instant, Ranboo felt the urge to reach out and drag them close. He thankfully caught himself in time.
He was truly losing it there, so far from home and so isolated from all the ones he held dear…
“Are you the defense attorney?” Cleric asked, direct to the point as he tended to be. Unlike someone else in their party who just loved all his cryptic bullshit.
The guy nodded. “I don’t think I can win this one though…” he let out a nervous chuckle as his eyes scanned the single page of evidence on the case he’d been given over and over again. It was such a joke. No investigation had been conducted whatsoever, it was the most obvious setup in history. He was shocked that this supposed lawyer wasn’t calling that out.
Some dialogue options thankfully appeared in front of him, so he didn’t have to just silently stew in his anger.
> Let us take over the case, we have a plan [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> Let me take over the case, I have a plan [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> * Relay the clues you discovered *
> * Knock him out and steal his clothes *
> Let's work together, we’ll have better chances that way [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> … [Exit Dialogue]
Ranboo thought it over. Usually, he would only get a couple of options that mattered. It was a fifty-fifty gamble. With three it was… riskier. But he couldn’t afford to put his trust in a guy who didn’t even realize that there was something iffy with a quadruple homicide that only produced one meager page of evidence. And the violent route didn’t seem feasible either as it was very obvious that they were not the same size. He couldn't pass for the brunette unless he walked around on his knees and he had no intention to. Sorcerer would never let him live that one down.
If he was honest, he knew what he wanted to go with. Cleric and Sorcerer had their uses, he would not have gotten that far without them. But their constant bickering and their air-headed nature would not paint them in a good light, and that would reflect poorly on their client. He didn’t want to make them think that he didn’t trust their capabilities as he genuinely did respect them and value their contributions… most of the time, at least. But…
> Let me take over the case, I have a plan
… He couldn’t afford to screw this up.
Weirdly enough, he got two opposing notifications. There was one for Cleric informing him that he’d gained some trust points with him, and one from Sorcerer telling him the exact opposite. A very interesting piece of information as he wasn’t aware that his choices could affect his party members differently. That offered some insight into their personalities.
Their medic seemingly didn’t mind being bossed around. Probably a result of him being a literal henchman back in his world.
And Sorcerer… well, he didn’t like to be kept out of the action. Probably because he didn’t get a good enough opportunity to observe closely as the story of their life unfolded that way. And if there was one thing he hated more than anything it was missing out on the fun.
Ranboo filed those two observations away to be revisited at another time.
The attorney gladly shoved the sheet of paper at Ranboo’s chest. “The floor is yours” he announced, before spinning around and marching off so fast one would have thought his ass was on fire.
“What a prick” Cleric huffed.
“Spineless slugs like him are so boring…” Sorcerer agreed, his tone had a particularly whiny note to it that let Ranboo infer that he was genuine in his annoyance for once. Something as rare as seeing him show any other kind of emotion in general that wasn’t the giddy amusement he reserved for talks of marriage fraud. He wrapped an arm around Cleric’s shoulder after, his eyes shifting to Ranboo, still keeping that same irritated glint in them. “Let’s go find a good spot in the auditorium since he doesn’t want us here”.
Ranboo winced at the accusatory tone.
If he had the freedom to do so, he would have apologized for his choice. But he didn’t, so all that was left for him to do was take the scorn and hope that Sorcerer would be quick to forgive just like his Tommy back home was.
Cleric rolled his eyes. “Yeah yeah, you drama queen” that little jab had the desired effect of getting a small smirk from Sorcerer. Ranboo couldn’t be more grateful for the presence of their latest party member. “If we hurry we may even get some first-row spots so you won’t miss a thing still” he added in a very reassuring tone. It was almost parental. As if he was trying to cheer up their toddler who just slipped and fell on their ass.
Well… with how Sorcerer was, that wasn’t too far off.
Together, they scampered off leaving Ranboo alone to face the new challenge. He wasn’t so sure about his decision anymore, he could have used the emotional support. Especially as public speaking had never been his thing. He was more the type to deliver dramatic monologues under the rain to an empty road, it was less stressful and equally as cool.
But for a copy of his best friend, he would do this and more.
He entered the stage to the low drumming of percussions and the thrill of a lone piano. The jury was standing toward the back of the wooden platform where the trial would take place, all of them were wearing long purple tunics with a truly creepy eye pattern on them that reminded him of those the choir members of Prime Church would don for Mass. The judge was positioned opposite to him, dressed similarly, although his clothing sported a massive golden sun on the front with a line down the center of it that seemed to want to emulate a slitted pupil. There was a marble altar in the center with golden suns engraved on it. He assumed there to be one on each side.
He didn’t even have the time to analyze the scene further as the music hit a crescendo that caught his attention only to lower some more to allow the beautiful soprano of the judge to fill the air: “Let us begin to explore this Devil’s sins”.
As the trial started, Ranboo realized that this was not like other encounters. There was a beat for him to follow and music in the air. He had his tempo and his cues for a battle fought with blues. He would not be deterred, bizarre as it was. He'd come out victorious!
The new Tommy was standing on the marble altar, eyes downcast, trembling hands joined in prayer. He stood there looking like a guilty pig ripe for the slaughter. All the sins of the world weighed heavy on his back, all the crimes he didn’t commit clear for the world to see like ink in the water. There was no sympathy from the crowd, and Ranboo recognized the sight because he'd seen it all before from all those who didn't care when his loved ones bled for them. He knew from the jury's eyes that all they could see was a sacrificial lamb, they didn't care if he was someone's son or daughter.
Damned if you do, damned if you don't, Ranboo knew that song and dance and he didn't care for it at all.
Little soldier boys always died in droves for all those who claimed that justice lay behind a paywall. The toll was only their blood splattered on the barren cement and the town’s empty white walls. A small price to pay when you're not the sacrifice.
And they swore to the Gods that this time the system would work. Surely this time evil would be vanquished at last and peace would be within reach. Empty words that brought nothing. Nothing. Nothing at all!
It wasn't a matter of 'if' but a matter of 'when' as Ranboo took a stand. “Don't you see that this trial is senseless? Where's your proof that his presence wasn't just happenstance?” One, two, he was right on cue.
And the jury said: “He's defending the Devil, he killed those poor men". In unison, they chanted: "He's defending the Devil, we've seen him among the fallen men! The knife was at his feet. No need for proof when he's guilty. We need justice and we'll have it tonight. And we'll only be satisfied when one more corpse joins the pile before the sun lights the sky!”.
Blinded by bloodlust they could not see that the death of a kid was not the key to set them free from their pain. Hypocrisy, that's all it would get them. Meaningless words and pointless violence are all there ever was.
“What a weak Devil I must be defending if he can't even cast doubt over all of you sinners. Yes, maybe he's the Devil who killed those 'poor men'. Maybe he's the Devil, but where's your proof then? A knife he didn't touch. No blood on his hands. Four corpses he stumbled across in a dark alleyway. That’s all you need to make the Devil your prey?” three, four, his audience was demanding an encore.
Encouraged by the loud murmurs Ranboo stepped forward raising his hand to his heart.
“I'll find you your Devil if you release this poor man. You'll have your sorry excuse for justice, I’ll satisfy your hunger for blood if this is your demand. But this was a setup, it was intricately planned. Release the innocent, this night has seen enough carnage for the moon to set bloody and red. I'm not gonna leave this man for dead!”. Five, six, seven, eight, a curtain fell on the night.
The jury left to deliberate and in the silence, Ranboo could hear his two companions complain from the very first row of the stalls. They’d managed to find some space there it seemed…
“So he found me right as I was getting my ass kicked by a child in chess, but this guy gets a whole musical number as an introduction?!” Cleric huffed. “Unbelievable”. Even without looking, he knew that his friend was probably crossing his arms. All of them. Cheeks puffed up and red and eyebrows knit together. He was willing to bet he looked like a mix between a petulant child and a disappointed mom and that it would be a laughable sight.
That was why he didn't turn around. The wrath he would incur for accidentally mocking the other wasn't worth it.
Sorcerer hummed in agreement. “It is quite a pity that I didn't think to introduce myself with my beautiful singing voice”.
“I'm pretty sure we're all better off for that” Cleric cheekily teased, all previous gripes all but forgotten at the chance for some banter with their cockier companion.
“Wha- I'll have you know that I almost wooed my husband with one of my songs!” Sorcerer cried back in protest. Every time he was reminded about Sorcerer’s marital status it was like a slap to the face. His curiosity about the identity of the poor unfortunate soul was endless. Maybe one day he’d be able to pry the information out of him… he truly hoped so.
Ranboo knew what Cleric would answer even before he did. It was the same retort he would have had. He found himself giggling under his breath before any words were even uttered. "He's your husband and you still only almost managed to woo him?".
Sorcerer let out a frustrated screech, a preamble to his cranky mood. He'd now be unbearable for a few hours. Still worth it though. It also served as an assurance that he’d made the right choice leaving them out of the actual trial. They were as rambunctious as usual.
The jury returned and Ranboo’s heart jumped to beat right in his throat.
The new Tommy was hiding the lower part of his face with the hem of the old beaten-up trench coat he wore. For a moment, all Ranboo could see was his best friend, scared, hurt, and betrayed as he waited for Tubbo to decide his fate. None of the others had ever come so close to resembling his Tommy in either look or mannerism. The anxiety, the guilt, the weight of life darkening the underside of his eyes… they were all there. And every new detail he noticed only served to worsen his worry.
If he failed this boy he would never forgive himself.
The head of the jury handed the judge a sealed envelope before going back in formation. Standing so close they resembled the darkness from the paintings outside. The judge opened the letter slowly, theatrically, and peered inside. His face remained impassive throughout the whole process.
“It has been decreed that you have a week to find whoever you believe to be the real murderer” the booming voice of the judge bounced off the walls of the theater, the echo from it felt deafening to Ranboo. “If you fail to do so, this boy will be executed”.
Notes:
The jury being Watchers coded seemed rather fitting for their role here, even if Ranboo failed to catch that reference, lmao.
Anyway, hope you guys liked this new Tommy's introduction and the trial scene overall!
Chapter 8: The Big Picture
Notes:
And I'm back!
This story will go back to getting updated once every two weeks, always on Friday unless stated otherwise.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
It was decided that during his investigation the Tommy in the trench coat, temporarily nicknamed ‘Slay’ by Sorcerer for brevity’s sake, would remain in police custody. Ranboo was not enthused by this development, especially as it made running in case he failed to crack the case a Hell of a lot harder. He wouldn’t be surprised if that were why the judge had been so set on that verdict despite his many protests, he probably could tell that Ranboo already had one foot out the door and was itching to have the second one follow.
Ranboo wished he could say he was the world's best liar, but, truthfully, his deception mostly worked on people who'd known him for a while. He needed the time to lower the guard of whoever he was tricking. To make them trust and confide in him. And he was incredibly talented at that, but put him on the spot and he would fumble the bag every time.
Of course, things getting tough didn’t mean he was willing to give up, to Sorcerer’s disappointment. His teammate had hoped they could get back on the road and beat up some random thugs to hopefully gather enough money to buy the mysterious soup with its new and absurd prices. Needless to say, that was not happening. Both because, with how their robberies had gone so far, that would probably take longer than solving a murder mystery, and because something that could almost be mistaken for Ranboo's conscience would never stop nagging at him for it if he did.
Ranboo was determined. And, once he set his mind to something, it was really hard to change it.
“Think we can just blame it on a random guy and call it a day?” Cleric questioned, boredly kicking a pebble around with the tip of his foot as they stood by the scene of the crime analyzing it for the second time. His attention span was no better than that of Ranboo’s Tommy back home, so it wasn’t surprising that having to focus on small details would tire him out quickly. It simply wasn’t one of his strong suits, and Ranboo would never resent him for that.
Besides, selecting a random person had been an option back at the orphanage, so it wasn’t so absurd to ask from an in-game perspective. But, then again, that decision had its consequences. He’d only been made aware of them through a throwaway headline in a newspaper he picked up for other reasons, but he couldn’t ignore that fact. He took his time to do things properly and now the orphanage was thriving, but what would have happened if he picked without thinking? Would the place have been shut down? Would the kids have been mistreated? Would it have reverted to its previous below-average standards?
He couldn’t know.
And he wasn’t willing to find out what the consequences of a mistake like that could be on Slay’s skin. And it was not because he had already become attached to the kid like Cleric had claimed once they met up again after the trial. He wasn’t the type to get attached so quickly. Even with his current traveling companions, who he’d at least talked to and spent several days with, it was taking time. He’d gotten to the point where he could comfortably admit that he liked their company and would be sad once they inevitably had to part ways, but couldn’t tell whether or not he’d ever truly miss them once he was back home or if it would end up being an 'Out of sight, out of mind' kind of situation.
So, no. It was nothing so genuine or deep.
It was more of a mix of guilt and bitter nostalgia as a lot of Slay’s mannerisms resembled those of his Tommy to a tee. His looks did too. And his situation was awfully familiar as well. It felt as if the entire scenario had been crafted specifically to tug at Ranboo’s heartstrings. He wouldn’t be surprised if that was true, whoever brought him there already proved to have a weird fascination with Tommy, any variants of him, and possibly for Ranboo too. Why else would they have chosen him as the other player in their sick and twisted game?
As he made all his considerations, Ranboo looked down at his dialogue tree distractedly. He didn’t always get the chance to respond, even if a question had been asked to him directly. Sometimes it felt as if certain pieces of dialogue were meant to remain floating in the background, there to fill the emptiness he left behind when he spaced out, effectively acting as if he was AFK.
That wasn’t the case this time around.
> We can and should
> We probably could, but should we? I don’t think so
> It’ll be more fun to solve the mystery!
> Why? Do you have places to be?
> I expected this from Sorcerer, but you? That’s just disappointing
> … [Exit Dialogue]
The second to last option was a low blow. Sorcerer could be fun and, slowly but surely, he was starting to figure out some coping mechanisms to deal with him with minimal annoyance. For example, he now knew that he didn’t like being left out of the action and would become unbearable for a while when that happened. He also figured out that the purple-eyed Tommy enjoyed flirting and appreciated greatly when someone did it back, even though Ranboo had the impression that he had no interest in actual romance whatsoever, he saw all flirting only as buildup for future opportunities to commit marriage fraud but never expressed an interest in relationships beyond that. However, on any matter of empathy or care for those around him he was a lost cause. As a matter of fact, he never even tried. Tears and stressed-out people were boring to him, they didn’t have the spice that anger, passion, and indignation held and that he craved more than anything.
So comparing anyone to Sorcerer in a matter like that was pretty much the equivalent of calling them soulless husks. And Cleric was anything but.
He had a big bleeding heart with enough room in it for any fragile-looking thing he found. Which, by his standards, could range from a small animal to a guy with the destructive power of one of Tubbo’s nuclear bombs. It was not yet clear to him how his teammate discerned between adoptable or non-adoptable creatures with those vague ass criteria. Though he had come to the understanding that he and Sorcerer both belonged to the first category. It wasn't hard to figure out with how much Cleric doted on them both, always nagging them to get them to eat balanced meals and to be nice to each other. Meanwhile, all those who had tried to rob them so far had obviously been classified as threats and hastily eliminated.
With all those considerations in mind, he settled on the most neutral-sounding option:
> We probably could, but should we? I don’t think so
Cleric considered his words for a moment. His bottom lip was trapped between his teeth as he thought, it was getting squeezed in a way that looked painful. Ranboo was surprised that, upon being released, the flesh was only puffy and not bleeding. “Yeah, probably not” he admitted. He took a cursory glance around the alley, his eyes were unfocused, most likely not taking in anything he saw. “’m just tired”.
They had been walking around the whole day trying to build a solid case for themselves, so that wasn’t surprising.
They’d tried talking with the citizens of Maple Groove early on as well, but they quickly discovered that there were no witnesses aside from the photographer who got the scoop and the police officer who first arrived on the scene. Both of whom also so happened to be his main suspects. And he couldn’t risk talking to them in case they picked up on his suspicions and decided to flee while they were still free.
Collecting pieces of evidence was not going any better, however. There was nothing else to find beyond what he noticed pre-trial. All their wanderings had gotten them so far was learning that the egg for the ‘Find the Codfather’ objective was most likely not there and that all of them had limited stamina even in that video game-like world. They couldn't roam around the town endlessly without eventually collapsing. Especially not on an empty stomach, and they couldn't afford both food and the inn.
“You know… for being such a smart one, Lover Boy, you’re still missing the big picture here” Sorcerer interjected cryptically as usual. He was circling Ranboo like a shark, staring at him with that hunger for conflict that was ever-present in him.
Taking the bait and letting himself be riled up would have been a mistake. It was exactly what Sorcerer wanted. Above all, he seemed to find the most enjoyment in observing people lose their rationality. He loved when ire gave his victims tunnel vision, and Ranboo didn’t doubt that could be his objective still, even as his words indicated otherwise.
Cleric’s head leaned to the side in a way that resembled a confused bird. He answered before Ranboo could even get a chance to look at his options and verify if he had any. “What do you mean?” he was calm. His words were a bit slurred by his sleepiness, though they held no other particular inflection. It was a miracle that he didn’t pick up on Sorcerer’s mockery. Usually, he’d be the first to. And he never missed a chance to answer in kind or pull out one of his patented 'disappointed parent' looks, the only form of displeasure that Sorcerer did not seem to find enjoyment in. He rarely raised his voice or got genuinely upset at either of them though, and Ranboo knew that their masked teammate was immensely bothered by that fact.
Sorcerer was still smirking despite the flat response, but it looked a tad bit more forced than before. His expressions were always hard to read, any change in them tended to be minuscule unless soups or marriage fraud were involved. But Ranboo was nothing if not stubborn, and he’d promised himself that he would crack the code by the end of their journey. He’d been making significant progress since the beginning and now knew and could differentiate between the various hues his smug smirks came in.
It wasn’t much, but it was honest work.
“I mean that we’re focusing on all the small details of the ‘how’ when we don’t even know the ‘why’ yet. There’s gotta be a motive for this quadruple homicide. These men-” he pointed to the four corpses mangled beyond recognition by the process of decomposition and the hungry wild animals that had passed by since the last time they’d been there “Had recognizable identities at some point, I’m sure. There must have been people who knew them and who could point us to their enemies, their occupations, their business rivals, people they were indebted to, and all that fun stuff. We might need to sing a bit-” he pulled a displeased and almost disgusted face at the idea. Ranboo mirrored that sentiment. He’d had enough of the musical shtick with the trial, he would have liked to avoid any further embarrassment. Though, for Slay, he’d be willing to grit his teeth and deal with it. “But it would be more productive and less crushingly boring than staring at anonymous footprints for a week straight…”.
It was exceedingly rare for Sorcerer to contribute in a way that felt productive. He usually only did so when they were done with a certain area and had to decide where to head to next. Both times that had happened previously, he’d been the one to nudge them into the direction of a new, possibly recruitable, Tommy. He didn’t know how his teammate had access to that kind of intel, but he did, and, at least with Cleric, it had been rather useful. Perhaps it had something to do with him being the tutorial Tommy…
Regardless, with how rare of an occasion it was, Ranboo was inclined to do as he was told.
He could admit that disregarding the motive had been a major oversight on his part and on the part of the court who had just assumed the murder had been a random act of violence from a serial killer coming from out of town for a quick stop. For some reason, despite not believing that theory, he also hadn’t thought to look any further into it than that.
“How do we find their names though? They weren’t on the posters or the newspaper. They weren’t even mentioned in court. What if they were homeless? They wouldn’t even appear in missing person reports then…” Cleric pointed out astutely. There was a bitter note to his tone in the last sentence as if he was dragging up an old pain he was all too familiar with.
With what little he knew of Cleric’s background, he couldn’t interpret that snippet of emotion with any certainty. But he knew the guy had struggled economically before, and that was why he ended up working for Wilbur. He wouldn’t be surprised if he’d been living on the streets for a while before, nor if he lost someone during that time. He didn’t know if his teammate ever knew an alternative version of him as he did for Tubbo, if so then maybe he’d been his lost friend as he hadn’t been mentioned so far, but his universe sounded much bigger and more populated than Ranboo’s. So maybe the fallen friend was someone he never even met.
One day, if he ever got the chance, he’d ask.
He wanted to understand his traveling companions better. He wanted to be able to support them properly and he just couldn’t do that while only having small crumbs of knowledge about them.
For now, however, he would limit himself to whatever he was allowed to do by the weird world they landed in.
> Don’t you remember from last time that they were all clean-shaven and well-groomed? That would be hard to do for someone living in the streets here. Especially as I saw no support structures for homeless people. Let’s go to the police and get that registry! [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> Don’t you remember from last time that they were all clean-shaven and well-groomed? That would be hard to do for someone living in the streets here. Especially as I saw no support structures for homeless people. You two go to the police and get that registry while I look around for more clues! [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> Don’t you remember from last time that they were all clean-shaven and well-groomed? That would be hard to do for someone living in the streets here. Especially as I saw no support structures for homeless people. You two go to the police and get that registry while I find an inn to rest for the night [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> Regardless, I don’t think there is anything useful we can learn from their lives. Let’s stick to the facts of the case [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> Regardless, I’m done for the day, let’s think about it tomorrow
> … [Exit Dialogue]
It was the first time since he’d gotten there that he was allowed to speak so much. It was almost overwhelming. Especially since, as always, a lot of the options were very similar between them, but not enough to be interchangeable. So he had to be careful with what he picked.
He knew that Sorcerer liked to be part of the action, which left him with the ability to pick between three out of four of the options with consequences if he hoped to affect him positively. He still didn’t know how Cleric worked. The only decision related to him that he’d had to make so far had gone well, which didn’t offer him any significant insight into his mind, so he couldn’t narrow down his choice that way.
And then, of course, he also had to consider what he wanted out of this. Was there anything he could gain from hanging back and pouring over what little he’d gathered so far in the vain hope of getting something more of value out of it? Would it be fair for him to go rest while his teammates did all the work? Could he trust Sorcerer and Cleric to tactfully handle the families of the victims on their own? Could he even trust them to go do that and not slack off? Cleric was tired and sleepy and Sorcerer was himself, so he doubted that.
Personally, while he was tired, he still had the energy to at the very least go get the registry, though he couldn’t imagine getting through all the interviews that day as well. That would be too much. He'd been up since sunrise and his feet hurt like a bitch by then. The overly fancy shoes and heavy getup he'd gotten stuck with didn't help. He hoped he'd be able to buy new clothes eventually, or maybe even win some as a reward for a completed quest.
Keeping all of that in mind, he settled on the only option that made some sense to him at the moment:
> Don’t you remember from last time that they were all clean-shaven and well-groomed? That would be hard to do for someone living in the streets here. Especially as I saw no support structures for homeless people. Let’s go to the police and get that registry!
Immediately, he was informed that he’d gained points with both of his allies. Then another pop-up bubble showed up to inform him that he’d increased Cleric’s trust level to two. That gave him a moment of pause. Either Cleric was overly trusting or Sorcerer had issues because no matter how many points he’d gained with the guy, there had been no level increase so far.
Why was he even wondering what the answer could be? It was obvious that Sorcerer had issues. He’d spent enough time with the guy to be able to tell as much.
He was an unempathetic sadist with a weird obsession with marriage fraud who also acted as if he never had soup once in his whole Primedamned life. Trust issues were the perfect cherry on top of the trashcan on fire personified that he was.
Cleric’s eyes widened in surprise and awe. “You’re right! I forgot about that. You’re a smart one Big R. Ranboob from my world could use a couple of pointers from you” the last part was added jokingly, he puffed up his chest and raised his voice in a way that made it feel purposefully absurd. A jab done in jest and not out of any genuine conviction. For once, that was a very Tommy behavior.
A rare occurrence from his usually poised and well-mannered traveling companion.
Also, that did confirm that Cleric knew an alternative version of him, which was interesting, to say the least. He wondered if they were alike and if their dynamic was at all similar to the one he had with his Tommy. It didn’t seem likely with how headstrong and independent his teammate was, but maybe other him just had a different approach to leadership. Or maybe someone else took over that role. He still remembered how afraid of his Tubbo Cleric had been at the start, maybe he was the one in charge then. Though, if that was the case, Ranboo could not respect him. He didn't approve of leading through fear. That was what the likes of Wilbur, Dream, Techno, and Phil did, and none of them were worthy of praise.
He filed those theories away for later as he couldn’t look into them further at the moment.
“Let’s not forget that we got here thanks to my help” Sorcerer boasted.
Ranboo itched to pull out his fighting stick and smack him upside the head with it. Not because he was wrong, as he wasn’t, just because he was being a prick about.
Cleric huffed, although for once it sounded almost fond. “Yes, yes. You did a good job” he conceded, patting Sorcerer on the head softly as one would with a dog or small child.
Sorcerer looked utterly confused by that reaction. He was standing stock still, eyes wide, fawn response kicking in at the funniest possible time. Every day he was getting more hints that pointed toward the guy being an orphan, because, like, what was that? Why did he look like he was trying to fight, flee, and play dead all at once? If Cleric ever ended up hugging him, would he just straight-up combust?
Sorcerer only untensed once Cleric pulled his hand back. He eyed the other suspiciously for a moment, before smoothing out his expression once more. “Weird fucking dark magic…” he muttered under his breath with no particular inflection aside from a hint of curiosity.
Ranboo wished he'd been allowed to speak freely at that moment.
He had so many questions that would most likely forever go unanswered.
After that, they went to the police. They were all too tired to make any more attempts at a conversation, so they just walked in silence. Thankfully, they managed to get the registry with very minimal talking.
There were a lot of people who went missing in that city it seemed. So it was no surprise that, despite the four corpses showing up, their families still reported their disappearance. It wasn’t like anyone had been willing to inform them of what was going on. He had an inkling that that would be the case when he noticed that the names had not been uttered at any point. Nobody there cared about the victims, they just wanted more bloodshed. They were happy to leave them to rot in that dark alley and have the wild animals roaming the streets at night deal with their remains, they hadn’t spared a single thought to their families who maybe wanted to give them a proper burial.
Despite the high rate of disappearances, it wasn’t hard to tell who the men were. There was only one day that four had been reported at once. The names were not particularly notable nor familiar to him, but at least he knew where to start. Especially as, next to them, was reported where their families resided, so any news regarding them could be delivered promptly once the cops got off their lazy asses and started to do their jobs.
Notes:
The investigation continues! And so does the bonding. Ranboo is about to break through the fourth wall with his bare hands if he doesn't get some answers soon...
Chapter Text
One testimony at a time, Ranboo managed to reconstruct what happened on the day Slay got framed.
The four men who had been murdered had been colleagues. They worked for the same construction firm together with many others. Their families didn’t have any memories of them being particularly close. Still, a couple of relatives mentioned that their loved ones went out drinking with anyone who offered, so it wouldn’t have been out of character for them to hang out.
Further digging indicated that the cop who’d made the arrest was the brother of the owner of the company they worked for. He still wasn’t sure how the photographer was connected to any of it, could have been a case of ‘wrong place wrong time’, or maybe he’d been tipped off by the cop himself who saw him as a perfect alibi. What he did know was that the owner of the company was a well-known scumbag who had been suspected of cutting corners when it came to workers' safety for ages.
All he heard about him sounded like all the stories he would hear about Schlatt. A sleazy businessman who mistreated his employees and caused several deaths? All he was missing were the ram horns.
Anyway, with some more digging, he discovered that another worker, a close friend of all four of the deceased, had fallen to his death due to a defective harness a couple of months prior. It wasn’t hard to guess how things had developed from there. The four men must have been looking over their work supplies only to discover several code violations. And a scandal like that could harm even an industry titan. Or, well, as much as a company could become a ‘titan’ in a medium-sized town like Maple Groove. Having a cop brother could only go so far with protecting the guy’s ass, at least if his assumption was right and the cop had been warning his brother about inspections or rigging their results in his favor, but it couldn’t save him from this. Not peacefully.
And Slay appearing in the middle of the crime scene served as the perfect scapegoat. Nobody would look into the victims’ past when a teen covered in blood was standing right there looking as guilty as if he’d committed the crime himself. Hell, the farce even fooled Ranboo for a while! He would never have gone to speak with the families had it not been for Sorcerer nudging him in the right direction, as the smug little shit loved to remind him every few minutes.
Just to be sure that his case would be as solid as he could get it, they sneaked into the construction site. Sorcerer’s Minor Illusion cantrip and Charm Person spell turned out to be crucial for that.
As it turned out, Minor Illusion granted Sorcerer the ability to create an object or a sound in a ten-meter area, perfect to create a diversion when needed, and Charm Person allowed them to fool someone into believing them friendly acquaintances, which worked in their favor when dealing with the warehouse worker in charge of keeping an eye on the equipment.
It goes without saying that when they showed up in front of the judge with a pile of evidence to help them make their case as well as several witnesses that could attest to the victims’ likely cause of death, they won. Thankfully, as his plan B was to have Sorcerer release a cloud of poisonous smoke while he and Cleric grabbed Slay and then dipped out. In all of that, his role would have been to wait right outside of town with some means of fast transit, possibly a carriage, at the ready. As fun as being an outlaw in a universe where he had yet to do anything too morally questionable sounded, it would have made their lives a lot harder.
He completed the objective ‘Play Devil’s Advocate’ at long last, and his reward for it was a new set of clothes for Slay that he could only use if he added the guy to his party. Of course, he’d been planning to do that regardless, but he was starting to think that the entity that created that universe did not have a clear understanding of proportional rewards for the challenges it threw at him.
He was dragged out of his thoughts by Cleric’s giddy scream as Slay made his way over to them. They’d been invited to go pick him up at the prison where he was being held. He looked shaken up, he was tugging his trench coat over the lower half of his face in that way that was so reminiscent of Ranboo’s own Tommy, and his eyes were wide and darting around everywhere as if he expected some new threat to manifest out of thin air. How could he not after the dreadful introduction he’d had to that world?
Slay tried to step back and away from the human golden retriever charging at him at high speed, but it was in vain. Cleric had him by the hand in no time. And, soon, he started dragging him toward Ranboo and Sorcerer, all while chatting with the unresponsive teen: “You look like you could use some more healthy meals. You’re almost as much of a beanpole as Ranboo is. All height and bones. Unbelievable. Did they not feed you in that cell? Don’t answer that, I already know. Tubso has gone on so many rants about the prison system and the government and whatever… man” his bright smile faded leaving nothing but nostalgia behind for a moment. Cleric wasn’t the type to dwell on the negatives of life for too long though, that was something Ranboo noticed early on. He allowed himself only a few moments to miss his home and family before going back to his usual chipper self. “If he was here and he had a car none of this would have happened”.
Ranboo didn’t know what a car was or how Cleric’s Tubbo could use it to solve systemic injustices, and at this point, he was almost afraid to ask.
Sorcerer was no less confused than him based on the small frown that knitted his eyebrows together for just a second, but he didn’t let that stop him from trying to act like an obnoxious know-it-all about it. “So true! Tubbo can solve anything with a well-placed machine. He’s so smart for being a hu- blond”.
Ranboo was elated to find that he had the chance to speak up after hearing that blunder, but his enthusiasm quickly vanished as he studied his options:
> Sorcerer, you’re blond
> Since when is Tubbo blond? He’s a brunette
> Tubbo must be the only smart blond in your friend group
> … [Exit Dialogue]
It was such a bummer that he couldn’t ask yet again what Sorcerer had been about to say before he corrected himself. His only small consolation was the discovery that Sorcerer knew a Tubbo and that said Tubbo was blond for some reason. Ranboo had seen an old faded photo of Tommy and Tubbo in their L’Manburg uniform standing in a line together with the other founders, and he vaguely remembered his hair looking lighter there. But ever since he’d known the boy, his hair had been dark brown. It used to be neater when he was president as he combed it almost obsessively to try and play his part, while it had grown longer and wilder now that all pretenses had been dropped, always covering his eyes and making him look more like a sheep than the goat hybrid he was, but that was all the change he’d undergone.
Cleric looked just as stunned by the revelation. Slay probably did too, but it was hard to tell, what with him still being busy staring at his and Cleric’s joined hands as if they were a bear trap holding him prisoner.
Maybe he wasn’t the biggest fan of physical touch. That would be the first notable difference between him and Ranboo’s Tommy.
He made a mental note to separate them once he was done teasing Sorcerer and focused back on his objective. He stared for a long moment at Sorcerer’s blond curls before meeting his eyes again and selected the option of his choice:
> Tubbo must be the only smart blond in your friend group
Cleric let out a roaring laughter, as boisterous as all of his personality seemed to be. He couldn’t help the fond smile he got seeing any version of his best friend that happy and carefree. Especially when he knew by then that it was not due to a lack of hardships, that would have had him worried for the guy’s future, but due to his perseverance in the face of them.
Slay’s eyes shot up for a moment, and Ranboo could swear he’d seen an amused twinkle in them too. It gave him hope that there was a way to break him out of his shell.
With his Tommy, that way had been to convince him that he appreciated him as an individual just as much as he did Tubbo, that he knew what he was all about and what he wished to become and was not put off by it. His and Tubbo’s close relationship had been weaponized against them for so long that they had stopped feeling safe to express their attachment, which hadn’t been good for their soulmate bond or their mental health. The only one who ever acknowledged how vital they’d been for one another had been Wilbur who, from Ranboo’s understanding, never really saw them as two distinct beings but more of a ‘Tommy and his cancerous growth’ kind of deal. Having someone unconditionally in their corner whether they were alone or operating as a unit had been all they ever needed.
He didn’t know if a similar concept could be applied to Slay and whatever it was that left him nervous and covered in blood even before he was transported to this new world, but it couldn’t hurt to try. Worst case scenario, he’d learn and adapt.
Sorcerer gasped in mock offense, theatrical as always. “How dare you imply you ever had doubts about me being an idiot?” he asked with a straight face. Due to the seriousness of his tone, Ranboo almost missed the meaning behind his words.
It was nice to know that Sorcerer was not afraid to make himself the butt of the joke if he thought it would be funny or shocking enough.
It certainly worked to amuse Cleric even further. He was struggling to breathe by then, though his hold on Slay’s hand hadn’t slackened.
> You’re right, I should never have doubted you
> Silly me, I should have noticed that I’m surrounded by idiots
> I’m afraid you just didn’t stand out compared to Cleric
> I just didn’t want to say that out loud, I knew your ego couldn’t handle it [May affect your party member’s trust lv]
> … [Exit Dialogue]
Ranboo frowned.
He didn’t understand why the fourth option had been singled out. Would that be pushing the bit too far? Would it drag down the mood by changing the tone of the conversation to something far too serious for what it called for? Would Sorcerer find that funny? Was that the kind of response he wanted?
He didn’t have enough data on his traveling companion to come to a definitive conclusion, so he ended up settling on one of the neutral options:
> You’re right, I should never have doubted you
Sorcerer nodded in agreement, still smirking, and that topic got dropped.
It was for the best, Ranboo was afraid of entering uncharted territories. For as much as he found Sorcerer irritating at times, he’d also been his first ally and his guide in that world. He didn’t want to scare him off. It felt weird to admit, but he’d miss him.
And wasn’t that a wild concept?
He didn’t think he’d ever get to the point of admitting it but, once the adventure was over and they were all forced to go back to their worlds and stories, he would miss the fun times they spent together. He’d miss Sorcerer’s quick wit and his steady presence. He was a prick who acted way too unbothered and who loved speaking in riddles whenever Ranboo needed him to be helpful. He also had the world’s most punchable face, which was saying a lot considering that Ranboo had met both Wilbur and Dream. But in a way he was endearing. ‘Annoying at first’ like everyone always said about his Tommy. He would think back on their time together with a sense of nostalgia once they parted ways.
He didn’t know if he could say the same for Cleric yet, and he definitely hadn’t become instantaneously attached to Slay like the other two kept teasing him for, so he knew he wouldn’t think about his way-too-familiar mannerisms with a painful pang of longing, but he had a feeling he’d get there sooner rather than later.
He turned to the two he was most conflicted about and was happy to find the line of dialogue he wanted already floating in front of him.
> Well, Tommy, this is where we part ways. I’ll take any fee for our service
> * Throw Fighting Stick * [Engage in a Fight]
> Would you like to join our party and get out of this town? [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> * Forcefully add him to the party * [Engage in a Fight. May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> Do you have any plans now that you’re a free man?
> … [Exit Dialogue]
He spared only a fleeting thought toward what forcefully adding Slay to his party could entail. He imagined it would be similar to the tutorial fight he had against Sorcerer. He knew it would not have gone over well with Cleric though.
Their healer didn’t have the most solid moral compass out there, but he seemed to have a general dislike of in-fighting. He was fine with it as long as it was just some silly verbal sparring, otherwise, he would have put Sorcerer in his place already, but he had a feeling that physically forcing someone to tag along would have been a step too far for him.
He doubted that Sorcerer would be the one to have issues with it, so he couldn’t be the affected party member. For as much as he’d come to care for the guy, he was still kind of an enigma. He didn’t seem to be against anything on principle. As long as whatever Ranboo did was entertaining enough and he was allowed to observe it closely, he’d go along with it.
Regardless, he had no intention of risking a loss when he’d put in so much work to have a new party member. Call it cost sunk fallacy, but he couldn’t turn back after putting so much time and effort into this.
> Would you like to join our party and get out of this town?
As soon as he selected that line he was notified that he’d gained trust points with both Cleric and the new Tommy, who was now labeled as ‘Rogue’ in the game. From what little he knew of rogues' and their abilities and role in a party, he could have used his help back when he was getting his ass handed to him by trap after trap in Cleric’s orphanage.
Oh well. He was sure he’d get a use out of his abilities again in the future.
Rogue’s eyes finally met his. He immediately noticed that his pupils were slitted much like those of his own Tommy because of course there were yet more fun little parallels there for him to discover aimed solely at tricking him into getting attached faster. It was embarrassing how well it was working. Though to be fair, while his Tommy’s pupils were slitted horizontally as he was a frog hybrid, Rogue’s were vertical. He would have called them cat-like had they not been so weirdly jagged. He had no clue what kind of animal or beast had eyes like those.
“I would like to get out of here, yeah” Rogue muttered. His words were muffled by the thick fabric of the trench coat he was wearing. “And you guys are…” he looked back down at his and Cleric’s joint hands, then quickly gazed in Sorcerer’s direction before looking back at Ranboo. “Okay enough” he concluded in the flattest tone Ranboo had ever heard out of any version of his best friend. Even Sorcerer’s words usually had some kind of inflection to them. With this new guy, he genuinely couldn’t tell if he had just been insulted or not.
A notification popped up to let him know that Rogue had been added to his party. With that, his clothes changed into a light black leather armor. He still had something covering his mouth, though it turned into a loose black bandanna, very similar in shape to the one Ranboo’s Tommy always wore. Still, the overall lack of bright colors on him was rather uncharacteristic.
Nobody commented on his sudden change of attire. It was as if none of them noticed it at all.
“I’ll take that!” Cleric exclaimed cheerily in response to Rogue’s unenthusiastic agreement.
Sorcerer didn’t look nearly as happy with their new member’s possibly snarky attitude, but not knowing whether to be offended or not he just settled on letting out a loud huff and steering the conversation toward the one thing he always craved: “Do you think the price on those soups is low enough for our broke asses now?”.
Since they had to pass by Lizzie’s stand on their way out anyway, Ranboo agreed to check.
Of course, it could never be that easy.
“I’m sorry! Everyone was so disappointed by the lack of executions that they drowned their sorrows in soup. I’m all out now” Lizzie’s apologetic looks did nothing to calm Sorcerer’s fury. He was pouting and crossing his arms like a scorned child. He was also glaring daggers at Ranboo, his stare was heavy and surprisingly easy to interpret. He was saying ‘I told you we had to grind and buy the soup when there was still a chance’. He wasn’t wrong, but Ranboo couldn’t bring himself to regret helping Rogue out. “I was about to pack and go look for more ingredients, maybe we’ll see each other again in the next town over?” the pink-haired vendor tried to compromise. She was smiling nervously and fidgeting with some loose strings from her robe.
He was certain that they’d meet another hurdle at the next town.
Why was getting some Primedamned soup the hardest thing to do in that universe?!
With a resigned sigh, he nodded his agreement.
They’d get it eventually. He wasn’t giving up on that. It was a matter of principle by then. He promised Sorcerer he’d taste that soup and, by Prime, he was gonna stuff his face full of that suspicion-looking liquid until he’d had his fill!
“It’s nice to know I’m not the only loser here” Rogue muttered so quietly that Ranboo almost missed it.
Sadly, Sorcerer’s ears were even sharper than his. His head snapped around and all his ire found a new focus: “Listen here you-!”.
Their party was about to get even more chaotic.
Ranboo wouldn’t change it for the world.
Notes:
And thus commences Sorcerer's one-sided beef with a literal teenager
Chapter 10: The First Cutscene
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
While staying in the video game-like world Ranboo hadn’t once experienced a nightmare. Usually, going to sleep there was like skipping forward in time by a few hours. When he woke up he was ready to go with none of the grogginess and aching joints he usually had to deal with. There, his mind was at peace, at least at night when he wasn’t haunted by the knowledge that he still had a long way to go to get home.
It had been jarring at first, back in his universe, the other guy took over whenever he was otherwise incapacitated, and, while he didn’t entirely remember what they got up to during that time, when he regained consciousness he always had the awareness that things had happened.
That said, it hadn’t been too hard to get used to the peace and quiet and the easy morning routines. He missed sharing the responsibilities of life and leadership with someone else, even if his enderwalk alternate was far from a separate entity, but at least during the day, he had more energy than ever before.
So, when one fateful night he found himself awake at three in the morning listening in on his traveling companions’ conversation he tried his best to ignore it all and just slip back into the sweet obliviousness he’d come to crave. He liked his teammates well enough, but he wasn’t willing to sacrifice his newfound comfort to check in on them and see why they weren’t resting yet.
As he tried his best, however, a text bubble popped up in front of his eyes. On it was a simple message: ‘You can’t sleep during Cut Scenes’.
There had been a few moments in Ranboo’s life when he’d felt an all-encompassing desire to murder someone. When he saw Dream again for the first time after he broke out of prison and the fucker bragged about leaving Tommy, his Tommy, a scared shivering mess in Philza’s arms and implied he’d be doing it over and over again because it was just such a fun little spectacle. When some of the members of the Egg Cult demanded he handed them his best friends for their eldritch overlord to consume as the thing despised their indifference to it. When Niki and Jack confessed to wanting to murder Tommy with the weapons Tubbo had created to keep their family safe for some petty spiteful reasons that Ranboo could never begin to give a fuck about. Whenever Wilbur had the gall to show his face around him and act as if he was owed a place in Tommy’s life just because he’d claimed him first. None of those came even close to the rage he felt against the insufferable entity that kidnapped him for their little games.
Nonetheless, as he didn’t have any other choice but to abide by the rules of that joke of a universe, he sat up in his makeshift tent and did his best to listen in on the conversation the other three were having.
He did spitefully note to the empty air around him that a cut scene with no visuals was rather lazy before that though. He wasn’t hoping to achieve anything by doing so as he doubted that the mysterious entity who kept messing with him cared about his opinion, but he still hoped they were listening and they knew how unhappy he was with all of their decisions. He would one day kick their ass.
With that out of the way, he focused back on the happenings outside of his tent.
One of his traveling companions must have been pacing around the fire based on the sound of quiet footsteps and the shadows they cast against Ranboo’s tent, while the other two were probably sitting on the logs they had dragged near it to make their temporary camp a bit more comfortable. After all, they were planning to stay there a while to hunt, gather edible roots and berries, fill up their flasks with clean water, and look for anything that could be useful, including the slimy egg they still needed to complete the ‘Find the Codfather’ objective, they need some decent standards of living during that time. Especially as Ranboo didn’t want to deal with Cleric angrily ranting about their unsanitary conditions for over four hours straight. Again.
“So, let me get this straight: you guys said that people don’t have superpowers where you come from, but they have access to their own personal pocket dimension that they use to store items, they can fall from incredible heights into water without dying, they have magic potions that allow them various cool perks, and they can sometimes come back from the dead… but those are, like, normal things in your opinions?” Cleric sounded both hysterical and incredulous as he spoke. His voice increased and decreased in intensity in a way that made Ranboo suspect that he was the one pacing around.
He didn’t get his confusion as the things he mentioned were commonplace where Ranboo was from as well. He couldn’t imagine getting by without an inventory or essential items like healing and regeneration potions. The three-lives system was already unforgiving enough as it was, they didn’t need even their basic commodities to be taken away.
Then again, he supposed that for someone who came from a world where none of those things were the norm, they may have resembled superpowers.
“Well, it’s not like those things are on the same level as freaky invisible arms someone may use to- oh, I don’t know- bitch slap a poor innocent Sorcerer who just dared to ask if there was any leftover food-” Sorcerer cut in with the same kind of whiny tone he got when Ranboo hadn’t been paying attention to him for over ten seconds. The one he thought made him oh-so-pitiable when, usually, it just made him more insufferable.
Honestly, Ranboo was impressed by himself. He didn’t think he would be so easily able to distinguish his teammates by voice alone, especially as they all sounded exactly the same. They all had Tommy’s voice. The main differences he was noticing were that Sorcerer always sounded a few degrees more smug than anyone he’d ever met before, while Cleric had a certain amount of tiredness, stress, and open-eyed wonder mixed into his tone at all times.
Rogue had yet to speak during that cut scene, so he couldn’t be certain he would have been able to recognize him. Though his general demeanor so far had been rather peculiar for a Tommy from what he’d observed.
“I already apologized for that! Besides, you startled me!” Cleric protested, his voice raising drastically in both volume and pitch.
“If you guys don’t quiet down you’ll wake up Ranboo” a third voice, undeniably Rogue’s, piped up right after. He spoke quietly and his words were muffled as if they’d been spoken through a layer of fabric. That was probably the case considering how much the kid insisted on covering his mouth all the time.
The meek demeanor wasn’t something he had originally expected to find in a copy of Tommy.
His Tommy had his quiet and pensive moments. When he sang to the flowers they kept in small colorful pots all around the mansion he did so in a whisper, usually holding them in his arms as he rocked himself back and forth. And sometimes, as he lay on the couch with Tubbo, he was entirely silent while the goat hybrid filled the air with a constant stream of barely coherent sentences as if they’d forgotten for a while who was who through the intensity of their soul bond and ended up switching roles. He also remained silent when visiting the crater of what once was L’Manburg, Ranboo suspected that it was his way of grieving and of paying respect to the fallen, especially to the version of his brother that once had loved him and was no more.
But, most of the time, he wasn’t a soft-spoken individual.
When he had something to say he made sure the whole world would hear. He was brash, often kinda rude, and obnoxious. It was why it had always been so easy for others to use him as a scapegoat, they justified their injustices with his gall to be himself, alive and shining brighter than any of them dared to. The shadows he cast were easier to look at after all.
Then again, he’d been quiet during the trial. Quieter still as he died a little each day in exile. Maybe Rogue had yet to surpass that harsh phase of his life.
Or maybe he was simply further apart from his Tommy than he originally thought even if that didn’t make sense with everything else he’d observed so far.
“Sorry” Cleric muttered, pausing his frantic pacing for just a moment, probably to cringe at his own thoughtlessness. He always did his best to care for those around him, but he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed and often tended to forget basic social norms.
Though, knowing he’d grown up on the streets with no adult guidance, Ranboo found it rather impressive that he could be polite and poised at all, let alone as much as he usually was. Maybe those were qualities one picked up when they decided to have kids? Or kidnap kids. He was still not certain how the other could have obtained more than one toddler because, while he certainly looked older, he didn’t look that much older. He was in his early twenties at most. Besides, he was still a version of Tommy, so Ranboo couldn’t even be certain he felt any kind of attraction regardless of gender.
Anyway, if parenting was what taught people manners he finally had a valid argument to prove to his Tommy once and for all that they were not the fathers of his giant poisonous cave spider and to Tubbo that they also weren’t the parents of the random zombified baby piglin he’d brought home from the Nether for some reason, because none of them knew how to behave.
A couple of minutes of awkward silence went by before Sorcerer picked the conversation back up again. “You have a mean right hook” his voice was level, his tone playful. If at some point he’d been upset about having been hit, he had already gotten over it.
Apparently, despite Sorcerer being the furthest one from his Tommy, heck, certain behaviors of his reminded him far more of Dream and his stalker tendencies than either of his best friends, he was just as forgiving. Either that or he cared as little about what happened to him as he did about what happened to the rest of his teammates. Because he had already proven with his willingness to take naps during fights that he didn’t care one way or another if they got hurt or not.
Then again, he had seemed to approve of Ranboo’s choice to do things properly when recruiting Cleric and the only thing that left him dissatisfied when they rescued Rogue was that Ranboo chose not to have him accompany him on the stage. So maybe he did care about them to an extent?
He was a confusing man.
“I didn’t even punch you, I slapped you” Cleric corrected, falling hook line, and sinker for Sorcerer’s bait.
Ranboo could hear the shit-eating grin in his masked companion’s voice as he spoke up again: “That’s still spousal abuse”.
He had cut down a bit on teasingly flirting with Ranboo when he realized he’d mostly get no reaction. Not even because Ranboo wanted to ignore him, mostly because usually he had no choice but to do so. But with Cleric who could speak freely and get as angry about it as Sorcerer’s little heart desired? It was a constant. He only ever gave Cleric a break after one of his patented disappointed mom stares hit him in the feelings, and usually, that moment of reprieve only lasted as long as it took for Sorcerer to bask in his newly unlocked parental issues for a while. Once the moment was over, he always doubled his efforts in being obnoxious. It was a vicious cycle that wouldn’t end until Cleric learned to ignore him at least as much as Ranboo did.
So it would never be over, because all Sorcerer needed to do to get Cleric’s attention was whine a bit. Then it didn’t matter if he was obviously bullshitting or not, because Cleric’s instincts kicked into overdrive and there was no way to stop his motherhenning.
They were truly a match made in Hell.
“Wait… are you two married?” Rogue asked in earnest. Either he failed to notice that they were two versions of the same guy or he truly believed all the horseshit that Sorcerer kept spouting.
Either way, his genuine curiosity made Ranboo sputter and almost give away his awake status.
He didn’t have any intention to infantilize their newest party member, if he had a Wilbur or Dream in his home universe he most likely had more than enough of that in his life already, but he could admit, if only to himself, that he was rather adorable. He kinda reminded Ranboo of a wolf cub. One of the runts that usually ended up staying behind on hunts far longer than any of their peers.
He gave off the impression of being the exact opposite of a wolf in sheep's clothing.
Sorcerer’s and Cleric’s answers came at the same time with Sorcerer hurrying to say: “Yes of course!” while Cleric yelled at the top of his lungs: “Fuck no! He’s not either of my husbands!”. Together they’d been loud enough to wake the whole forest up. Everyone there, Ranboo included, stilled when they realized as much.
He assumed they were looking toward his tent, watching for any movement within.
He could feel Sorcerer’s violet eyes on him. They were as intense as usual, and they were digging deep beneath his skin. Their attention coiled around his heart, timing its beats and lazily observing as his bi-colored blood flowed in and out of it.
Logically, he knew that couldn’t be the case. His tent was made of thick branches and leaves, there was no way anyone could see him thorough those. And yet he felt his throat constrict, his heartbeat quicken, and his hands becoming all clammy and painfully itchy.
Rogue snorted and the tense moment passed by. “You two are so bad at being quiet…” he muttered sounding incredibly amused by that fact. It also sounded a little bit like a brag.
Ranboo couldn’t be sure whether it was because of his rogue class or because of a natural predisposition of his, but it was impossible to hear Rogue’s steps when he walked around. Even as earlier the day before they walked over a patch of dry leaves that wouldn’t stop crinkling under their feet, alerting every beast and foolishly brave crook around them of their presence, he had glided over the ground as if he’d been weightless. On top of that, as already mentioned, he was always very soft-spoken and he often strived to make his presence as small and easy to overlook as possible.
Ranboo was curious to know what the story behind all that was.
Sorcerer gasped dramatically. “You know little chihuahua-”.
“Chihuahua?!” Rogue repeated incredulously.
Sorcerer ignored him and trudged on. “If you keep throwing so many jabs at me you may end up tricking me into believing you’ve got a spine. And I love me one of those!”. There was something dangerous in his tone that made a shiver run down Ranboo’s spine. He acted like a predator who just spotted an injured prey, knowing they couldn’t run he was taking his time to play with his food.
Ranboo still wasn’t certain why Sorcerer gave him such an uneasy feeling at times. He couldn’t be any more dangerous than he or his best friends were. He probably had less blood on his hands than Cleric and maybe even than Rogue if the hardened stains on his trench coat had been once spilled by him. And yet he set off alarm bells in his brain like no one he ever met before. Even XD, a literal god with the domain of life, death, time, and space, registered as less of a danger to him.
He wished he knew more about him. He wished he could ask freely about his past and be assured all the answers he got were truthful. He just wished for a way to put to rest his worries once and for all, to solve the enigma that was his masked companion. But he knew he had to be patient and come up with a proper strategy to chip away at his defenses a bit at a time.
Because, despite his carefree attitude, it was obvious that Sorcerer had more walls up around him than even Tubbo used to while he was the President of New L’Manburg.
He was dragged out of his thoughts by the sound of someone getting smacked on the head and Sorcerer wailing like a husky about to receive a bath. He was yelling: “Spousal abuse!” again as Rogue giggled uncontrollably in the background.
He heard Cleric huff and was willing to bet he was crossing his arms and glaring at Sorcerer at that moment. “Stop intimidating the child” he commanded, tone firm and final.
From Sorcerer’s silence, he could tell that he was having one of his moments. Hopefully, the cut scene portion of their talk would end before he came out of it and became unbearable for a few hours. Ranboo would have rather skipped it.
“I’m not a child, I’m a big man” Rogue protested. His voice was louder than it had been so far. His tone was indignant. He sounded just like Ranboo’s Tommy had any time he was reminded that, despite technically being an adult, he was still also a teen. Something about how people only brought up his youth when it was convenient for them while disregarding it when they needed someone to blame for all their problems.
Tubbo too had similar opinions regarding being treated as an incompetent child, but usually, he managed to shut whoever did so down quickly by reminding them he’d been old and capable enough to get trusted into the role of President before. And, while he hated that job with every fiber of his being and considered himself a failure as L’Manburg had fallen under him, that still usually worked on the easily impressionable adults of the server.
“Alright, how old are you?” Cleric asked casually.
“Fifteen”.
Cleric snorted. “Yeah, mate, that’s a child. You’d still be in the foster system back where I’m from. Well, unless you’re cool like me, Tubso, and Ranboob and you leave that shit as soon as you can get a job”. Rogue let out some unhappy noises and Cleric’s whole demeanor softened. Whoever his kids were, they sure were lucky to have such an emotionally intelligent parent. “Listen, don’t rush out of being a kid. All adulthood has got waiting for you is aching bones, taxes, and responsibilities. And don’t listen to the creeps saying you’re ‘already mature for your age’ or whatever. ‘Cause they just mean you look easy to exploit, it’s not a compliment”. Ranboo was bitterly reminded of the tale about The Pit Tommy and Tubbo had told him about once. How Tubbo had been lauded for taking his execution with silent resignation while Tommy was beaten to a pulp and called childish for his righteous anger. He couldn’t help but agree wholeheartedly with Cleric’s words. “Just let yourself be a kid a while longer, yeah?”.
Whatever answer Rogue gave was a silent one.
Before Ranboo knew it, the cut scene had ended and he was claimed by sleep once more.
Notes:
The one-sided beef continues...
But also we got some bonding for the party members that, for once, doesn't involve Ranboo. So that's cool! It won't be the last time. As more members are added to the party, we're gonna see how their dynamics evolve independently from Ranboo too. Hope you guys will be looking forward to that!
Chapter 11: The Train Ride
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Ranboo wasn’t given a chance to ask his party members about the things he overheard during the cut scene. He didn’t get to do much of anything, honestly.
When he woke up he was greeted by Sorcerer’s smug face as he explained that they’d been walking in circles in the woods surrounding Maple Groove and that the only way forward was returning to the city and getting a train ride at the station there. That piece of information was something he’d known that whole time but conveniently forgot to tell them because seeing them scramble around like headless chickens was far too funny of a prospect for him to pass up on. At that point, Ranboo didn’t even have the energy to get angry at him for that little stunt. He was just happy that he had eventually grown bored of playing games.
They headed back into town with their heads low and their tails between their legs, literally for Ranboo, and were subjected to some more obnoxious singing and dancing, which they only managed to escape once they figured out where the central station was. To avoid having to perform yet again for a chance to earn their way onto the train legally, he ordered Rogue to knock out the train conductor with a sneak attack and they agreed that anyone checking tickets would end up meeting the same fate.
With that, finally, they got onto the train and seated in the first empty boot they found. The seats were incredibly comfortable, so it wasn’t a surprise when Cleric and Rogue fell asleep there. They’d spent a good chunk of the night before bantering with Sorcerer, and the dark circles under their eyes made it obvious that they hadn’t slept much even after the cut scene had ended. Sorcerer seemed unaffected by it all, but, then again, he had been a weirdo from the start.
They were one hour into their three-hour train ride when Sorcerer spoke up. “Say, Player, why did you help them?” his tone was casual and he wasn’t even looking at Ranboo as he spoke. He was staring out of the window, watching as the trees became more sparse and the grassy ground turned into the warm colors of the badlands. There was nothing threatening about his demeanor, but Ranboo knew his traveling companion well enough to keep his guard up around him regardless of the tone he used or the words he spoke.
Feeling on edge was a constant around him it seemed. One he was sure Sorcerer was delighted about.
Eventually, Ranboo would figure out what Sorcerer’s deal was. He’d figure out his weaknesses. He would get into the other’s head just like he always did with him.
For the time being, however, all he could do was inspect his dialogue options and keep his cards close to his chest.
> It was the right thing to do [The Universe will remember this]
> It went to my advantage [The Universe will remember this]
> I didn’t think I had another choice [The Universe will remember this]
> I thought it was what you wanted [The Universe will remember this]
> I don’t know [The Universe will remember this]
> To avoid guilt [The Universe will remember this]
> … [Exit Dialogue. The Universe will remember this]
Well… that was new.
He didn’t know what the universe remembering could possibly entail. Would his answer to such a seemingly unimportant question affect the kind of ending he could get? Could he fuck things up majorly if he made the wrong choice?
Usually, all his words could affect was the trust stats of his party members, and he never took those too seriously as they didn’t seem to impact much of anything. At most, they changed how willing to open up with him about their past lives the others were.
This felt more significant.
Though, seeing as the entity that constructed that world had proven to be rather lazy in the past, perhaps it would never amount to anything anyway. Maybe they’d even forget about what he selected entirely and then he’d feel so silly about wasting so much time to mull over his words as carefully as he was.
There was no way of knowing for sure, however. He couldn’t play the system in a way that would for certain end up being advantageous for him. He didn’t know what set of rules he was meant to be following, and multiple of the choices given to him seemed reasonable enough.
His first instinct was to go with the second one. He was a rather self-serving person and he’d done a good enough job of convincing himself that helping Cleric had been the logical thing to do to get home quicker. A healer was needed if they were meant to face whatever lay at the end of their adventure in a fight, he and Sorcerer alone would have failed miserably since neither of them could recover any of their health. Especially because his first traveling companion was a terrible listener. Leaving Cleric behind would have ultimately prolonged his travels significantly as he may have ended up stuck there at the end. Maybe he would have even ended up dead. He still wasn’t sure if the video game-like structure of that world would extend far enough to allow him to respawn.
But Rogue?
Saving Rogue took him over a week of time. During that time he made no progress toward finding his way home. He didn’t study the layout of the land, didn’t grind for more money to buy better items, and certainly didn’t work to befriend more locals so he could build himself the kind of reputation that would make their quests easier going forward. He just solved a case. That’s all he focused on doing.
And he couldn’t even say that having a rogue in the party had been essential for them. He would have been a lot of help back in the orphanage to avoid the three thousand traps there and all those annoying little kids that kept shooting them with tranquilizers, but they’d managed fine enough without him, and he didn’t doubt that they’d be doing alright in the future too if they ended up not having him to rely on. Even with the train conductor, they could have just used Sorcerer’s ‘Charm Person’ spell to get through without a ticket, though knocking him out did spare them from having to do some dumb sing-along sequence about the power of friendship and steam engines or something else equally as embarrassing.
No, he didn’t help Rogue for selfish reasons. Perhaps it had been a little bit to avoid guilt, but that wouldn’t have been true for Cleric as he struggled to see any of his Tommy in him at the best of times and would most likely not have felt like he failed his best friend a second time had he left him behind.
The right answer was obvious once he gave himself enough time to think the question over.
> It was the right thing to do
As he said that, a pop-up bubble appeared in front of him. On it ‘You’ve Unlocked the Lawyer’s Path’ was written in fancy gold letters, all swirly and ornate. It looked like the writing of ancient nobles he sometimes found in the many books buried in the various abandoned monuments peppered throughout his world. The ruins of old palaces in ancient cities were usually chock full of documents written just like that. Normally, they were about some dumb territorial dispute, or about someone or other cheating and getting a child out of wedlock and whether or not said child had any right to the inheritance, not about destiny, but the vibe he got from them was similar enough to that in the text bubble anyway.
Aesthetics aside, he felt like the Lawyer’s Path fit him.
He may not have known what the other options were, but he had always been fixated on doing things the proper way. Even if his objectives at times were not so lawful. Well, oftentimes. There was a reason why XD had thought he’d serve him better out of Limbo instead of as his next snack. He may not have had a high kill count himself, but he knew how to use Tommy and Tubbo effectively. Regardless, he had a way of doing things correctly. Be it murder or finding someone new to put in charge of the orphanage his second party member cared dearly about.
Sorcerer scoffed. “Of course, you’d say that you fucking nerd”. Ranboo couldn’t tell if he was disappointed in him or not. He didn’t look like he was. He had his usual shit-eating grin and his eyes were still locked onto the scenery outside and full of wonder, no shadow had fallen over them, and no notification had come through to inform him that he had messed things up with him. But he could never be sure with the other and the Lawyer’s Path certainly didn’t fit with him, so maybe he was being his usual clingy self and he was disappointed he hadn’t been picked.
That made sense, Sorcerer lived for attention. And the path matching a possible future teammate felt correct to him. And it was only ‘future’ because he was sure that the guy who got framed for murder within the first minute of getting to that world and the guy who T-posed on corpses didn’t have very lawyer-y vibes.
Ranboo was surprised to find that, for once, the universe allowed him to keep the conversation going.
> What would you have answered?
> What do you think Cleric would have answered?
> What do you think Rogue would have answered?
> … [Exit Dialogue]
Being the nosy guy that he was, he would have been curious to know the answer to all of those questions. Obviously, whatever Sorcerer answered to the Cleric and Rogue's questions might not have turned out to be what they would have picked, but it would have shed some light on what his opinion on their traveling companions was. Because, beyond finding them amusing to tease, he didn’t express himself much.
Ranboo had noticed Sorcerer’s conflicting feelings toward Cleric any time the other acted in a parental sort of way, of course. It was hard to miss the fact that their resident healer had awoken some deeply buried parental issues in their group’s troublemaker even if Sorcerer himself never mentioned it. But then there was the incessant obnoxious flirting toward him that muddled the water.
His relationship with Rogue was even more confusing, mainly because it was newer so Ranboo hadn’t had that much time to observe them interact with each other yet. But he had noticed certain behaviors that felt almost… spiteful. It could have been that Rogue was honestly just easy picking, he was always meek and rather subdued, rarely voicing his opinion on stuff. He looked like a nervous wreck all the time despite usually having a pretty neutral expression and a level tone of voice. He was an overall mess, and Sorcerer couldn’t resist pushing and prodding at him to try and figure out how to make him snap.
Ultimately, Ranboo reasoned that he could always listen in on more cut scenes to figure out what the group dynamics that didn’t involve him were like. For the time being, he needed to focus on uncovering a little piece of the puzzle that was Sorcerer because it made no sense to him that they’d been traveling together the longest, and yet he still knew basically nothing about him.
He knew less about Sorcerer than he did about Cleric!
> What would you have answered?
Sorcerer hummed, for once actually considering the question instead of just spewing some bullshit and calling it a day. He must have been in a particularly introspective mood that day.
His eyes were still captivated by the panorama outside. Ranboo didn’t get it. The terracotta pillars that rose up high into the sky and cast shadows all over the train made him feel small. There was no vegetation around to distract him from the imposing rock formations either. Only emerald lakes lying at their base that gave a mystic sort of feel to the whole thing.
Maybe Sorcerer was just entranced by how fast they were going. His access to technology might have been rather limited in his world. Trains weren’t a thing in Ranboo’s world either, but the feeling of riding in one was similar enough to that of driving around in the old Camarvan they'd had in New L'Manburg that he wasn’t too impressed.
Regardless, it wasn’t like he could just ask his traveling companion about it. So all of those were just pointless musings.
“I mean, isn’t the reason I’m helping you obvious enough?” Sorcerer finally broke his one-sided staring contest with nature to turn around and fix Ranboo with an amused stare. “I find you entertaining. That’s all there is to it”. There was something about the inflection he gave those words that made Ranboo suspect that he was lying. Or, well, at least omitting part of the truth, because it was plain for anyone to see that Sorcerer’s reason to do anything was often that he found it funny.
That was why he let them wander around like headless chickens in the woods for a while. Or why he had initially been opposed to helping Rogue since it meant denying himself the instant gratification he could have gotten by just grinding away to get enough money for his soup.
For the most part, he was a simple fella.
But Ranboo wasn’t enough of a fool to believe that that was as deep as the rabbit hole went with him.
The creator of that universe surprised him yet again by giving him a chance to ask the other two questions. Someone must have gotten off their lazy ass that day…
> Right. And what do you think Cleric would have answered?
> Right. And what do you think Rogue would have answered?
> … [Exit Dialogue]
Ranboo didn’t waste time carefully picking his choice this time around, as he knew he’d most likely get another dialogue prompt later, and they were interchangeable anyway.
> Right. And what do you think Cleric would have answered?
Sorcerer turned to look at Cleric for a moment, before letting out a huff of laughter. “Mr. Holier Than Thou? Probably the same as you”.
Ranboo was about to instinctively nod when he remembered why exactly he didn’t think that their healer was a good fit for the lawyer’s path: he was unpredictable and his sense of morality was a revolving door. In his world, he worked for a literal mass murderer for fuck’s sake! He didn’t know why he kept forgetting that.
There was something about his motherly demeanor that kept fooling him. And not only him, apparently. That wasn’t the first time that Sorcerer described him as saint-like when instead he was more like a siren. One that lured his victims in by looking very friendly and approachable instead of enticing them with songs and promises of their deepest and most lustful desires waiting to satisfy them just below the surface of the water. From that point of view, he resembled Ranboo far more than he did his Tommy.
Maybe in his world, their personalities were switched.
Sorcerer managed to catch his blunder thanks to Ranboo’s lack of reaction. He frowned and shook his head. “Oh right. Why do I always forget that he’s unhinged in his own right? Sometimes I wonder if he’s a bit of a sociopath… or, well- what’s the correct word nowadays? You humans change your terminology far too often for me to keep up. Anyway, you know, the whole low-empathy, lack of guilt, and overly flexible morality stuff. He’s a good guy overall, genuinely. But it does seem like he’s gotta make a constant effort to be, you know? It’s impressive that he does put in that effort though, especially to the extent he does, he’s got a bleeding heart for real. In his place, I simply would not bother”. That must have been the longest stretch of uninterrupted dialogue Ranboo ever heard from Sorcerer.
In the midst of it all, he almost missed the ‘you humans’. Almost. His brain caught onto it at the last moment, and alarm bells rang out. This wasn’t the first time that Sorcerer drew a distinction between himself and humanity, and it couldn’t be just a mistake anymore.
He didn’t look like a hybrid of some kind, though, in all fairness, Ranboo couldn’t see most of his body, and half of his face was hidden by a skull that he didn’t take off even when lying down to rest. Maybe it was because he didn’t actually sleep, so it didn’t matter to him if that thing pressing against his face was comfortable or not since he wouldn’t lay there too long.
So far, however, he hadn’t displayed any hybrid-like behaviors other. He had no peculiar quirks. He didn’t avoid water as if it was acid, he didn’t bonk his forehead against people to greet them, he didn’t eat bugs when they came to bother them in the evening, he hadn’t tried building a nest or a den at any point in time, and he didn’t seem to have a particularly strong love of gold. If he was a hybrid he must have been repressing it worse than Ranboo’s Tommy and Tubbo had at the start, before they settled into their new dynamic.
What could he be?
He was distracted from his musings by the dialogue tree as it was blinking in front of him, informing him that his window to choose something had almost ended.
> Interesting. And what do you think Rogue would have answered?
> … [Exit Dialogue]
Cringing at how ill-fitting that piece of dialogue was after Sorcerer’s whole speech, Ranboo closed his eyes and slammed his hand on it, forcing his social anxiety back under control long enough to speak. If he could have, he would have engaged Sorcerer on the topic at hand before jumping to the next question, but he hadn’t been in control once since he’d arrived in the new world and that wasn’t about to change any time soon, so he had to get over his discomfort eventually.
> Interesting. And what do you think Rogue would have answered?
Sorcerer seemed just as confused by the quick change in topics as Ranboo was. And his answer this time was much less thought-through. He shrugged, turning back to watching the world run by them. “I don’t know him much. All I know is that he’s a coward. If he’s gonna help it’ll be to run from something”.
Ranboo truly didn’t understand where all his spite toward the poor little guy was coming from. He’d literally done nothing wrong ever since he’d gotten there. He just had a very stressful beginning because of some incompetent cops and a corrupted one. That was all.
He would need to work on bettering their relationship. He didn’t know why, but he had a feeling that it would be important in the long term.
Oh well… one thing at a time.
Notes:
I love Sorcerer so much, he's such a creepy little fucker. Not that this version of Ranboo is much better tbh. He's intimidating in his own right, though he'll always also be kind of a loser to me.
Chapter 12: New Objective Unlocked: Find the Five Lost Guitars 0/6
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The train came to a halt in a small mesa village called Tumble Town.
The place looked weird, even more so than all the previous cities they’d visited. Most of the buildings seemed to be poorly made, the only exception was one colorful and seemingly out-of-place street by the right of the train tracks, although the houses on that road were mostly buried, so it was hard to give them any definitive judgment. They weren’t the only oddly placed buildings either, the entire place looked as if it had been hastily grabbed from somewhere else and thrown there with no care of where anything would land. The one that left Ranboo most confused was the Sheriff’s Office, the biggest and, most likely, most important structure there, which had a not-so-tiny rock formation stabbed through it and reaching high into the sky.
Ranboo was starting to think that character design wasn’t the only thing whoever brought him there got lazy with…
Sorcerer made some kind of joke about how the creators must have been running out of funds already which got Ranboo to raise an eyebrow at him but, for some reason, didn’t spur any dialogue prompts, and, with that, they were off doing their usual routine: looking for Lizzie for some piece of useful information and to maybe finally get one of those damned soups they so desperately needed to finally shut up their most annoying traveling companion.
Unlike all the other times, they didn’t find Lizzie standing behind her stall, but instead sitting on the side of the road, with her head in her hands, looking rather dejected. She didn’t even have the giant bag full of useless junk she’d given them a whole musical number about the first time they’d met her.
It was a sad sight.
Ranboo would have felt bad for her if any empathy he could have in that situation wasn’t trampled by the fact that he, once again, was bound to leave the encounter empty-handed all while listening to Sorcerer’s whining. She might have had a horrid day, but he was about to get much worse.
At least Rogue and Cleric were there. Maybe their chatter would drown out Sorcerer’s whining. Well, Cleric was the one doing most of the talking between them. Rogue usually wasn’t up for talking much, not unless he felt the need to be brutally honest with the other two about whatever bullshit they were spewing. Most would have considered that kind of attitude rude and aggressive, and he didn’t doubt that it probably created quite a bit of trouble for the young teen in his own world, but Ranboo wasn’t particularly bothered and neither was their team’s healer. And Sorcerer just wanted to pick a fight with a child no matter the reason, so his opinion wasn’t valid regardless.
Ranboo recognized the behavior as the same bluntness his Tommy was famous for, the one that often got him in trouble with others. And, while of course, he thought it’d be best for Rogue to learn how to be more diplomatic, especially considering the fact that he’d be going back home soon with none of them there to support him, he also understood that his behavior wasn’t born of malice. He was, most likely, just a bit autistic and unaware of the tone he used and how it came off to others, just like his Tommy.
With every day that went by, he was noticing more and more similarities between them. It made him wish he could just take the teen back with him, so he’d be stashed away, safe and protected. But he didn’t know how Tubbo and Tommy may react to him introducing something new to their enclosure, also known as the mansion they all lived in together.
His best friends were a bit feral in nature and, while Ranboo was the one in charge of their group and could technically control them rather easily, jealousy had never been a thing they touched upon. He had no idea how they’d deal with it because he’d never had any desire to properly befriend anyone else before. Not even Techno and Philza, despite joining their little anarchist club. Probably because the only reason he joined in the first place had been to keep his loved ones safe from them and to spy on them, but still!
When he finally decided to approach Lizzie, as he had no clue of how else to progress in his adventure, she just greeted him with a sad little: “I’m closed for business indefinitely”. A horrible start for him, because it meant that she wasn’t just taking a break and waiting before setting her stuff up but something actually happened and he would most likely end up being the one who had to deal with it.
The screen that opened up for him was similar to the usual one he got, except for the option to buy her wares now only having one item listed in it.
You have: 17g
> Tears (1g)
> Sell
> Talk
Admittedly, that was kinda funny. And he could appreciate how committed she was to her gig. He almost wanted to spend one gold on her tears just to see what her reaction to that would have been, would she throw a dirty tissue at him? Cry in his hands? Was he meant to pay to just watch her cry? He was intrigued. But he couldn’t know how much money they’d need to buy one of the actual soups once they fixed whatever was going on at the moment, so he refrained from any impulsive purchases.
So, instead of going for the bit, he selected ‘Talk’ as usual, and then inspected all the options he was provided with.
> What happened?
> Do you know what’s up with this town?
> Is there anything I can do to help you?
> You’re in literally every town I go to. Why don’t you look for your egg on your own? [Give up on the Objective: Find the Codfather]
> * Give the Ocean Queen a Basic Health Potion * [Three in Inventory]
> … [Exit Dialogue]
Ranboo did not appreciate that the only way to point out the fact that Lizzie was literally everywhere was to give up on one of the only side missions he’d found so far as that meant he wouldn’t see whatever reward lay at the end of it despite all the effort he’d put toward it already. It was such a low blow and it only served to increase his dislike for whoever brought him there.
He was, however, grateful for the reminder of the existence of the potions because he’d forgotten all about them. He supposed he could waste one now if he so wished, as they had Cleric to do the healing anyway. Although he was worried about how they’d manage if he was put out of commission even just temporarily, so maybe it was better to preserve them…
He’d never been the best at resource management. It was why he’d ended up with a giant mansion that was way too big for only three people and several stacks of diamond blocks less in his possession with just one look from Tubbo. Or how he kept wasting stacks upon stacks of cooked beef on Tommy’s terrifying giant spider every week despite the fact that they didn’t even have a cow farm big enough to keep that up and he had to constantly outsource the meat, which usually meant stealing from Technoblade.
Maybe being in a new world was a chance for him to do better and be smarter.
And that left him with only some of the more boring options. He ended up settling for the most basic one out of them all. It was a good starting point, and he figured he could decide what to do once he’d gotten his answer.
> What happened?
Lizzie let out a shaky breath that would have probably tugged at his heartstrings had he been a more compassionate individual. He loathed to admit it, but it still did a little bit, even though she wasn’t someone he’d spent much time with.
Deep down, Ranboo knew that much of the cold and calculating facade he put on was just that. It was a way for him to survive and ensure the safety of those he loved. He’d been born in a world where caring was a weakness only very few could afford, and even then, they often chose not to risk it. Ranboo was not a fighter. He wasn’t bad, but he wasn’t good at it either. He didn’t have Tubbo’s scientific brain or Tommy’s observant nature. He had to develop other skills to make it in life.
That said, it still came to him as a bit of a surprise that he was even just marginally upset about something happening to the fish woman in front of him.
Was he going soft? Was her never harming him or his companions enough to trick his brain into caring about her now? Had that always been the case and had he just never noticed because none of the older members of his server could clear even the lowest of bars morality-wise?
He had some reflecting to do once he got some peace and quiet.
“Bandits came through here. They destroyed my stand and took all of my things. What’s a merchant without any wares to sell? I can’t go back to selling water to fishes again!”. The implication that she had done so before would have been shocking had it come from anyone else, Lizzie, however, was just odd enough for something like that to be almost predictable.
The biggest plot twist in what she’d said was that bandits were somehow involved. Although, maybe he could have told from the setting of the town. Every time there seemed to be a small boss they had to defeat in order to unlock a new Tommy, be it the Tommy himself or the law, and with a Western setting like Tumble Town, bandits made a lot of sense.
Glancing down at his dialogue options, he noticed that the first one had been replaced by a new prompt. That had never happened yet. It had happened in the past that certain sentences would get re-worded to make more sense with the dialogue, but completely new ones never popped up before.
> Have you seen what direction the bandits headed in?
> Do you know what’s up with this town?
> Is there anything I can do to help you?
> You’re in literally every town I go to. Why don’t you look for your egg on your own? [Give up on the Objective: Find the Codfather]
> * Give the Ocean Queen a Basic Health Potion * [Three in Inventory]
> … [Exit Dialogue]
He didn’t go for it quite yet, wanting to explore some of the alternatives beforehand, but he kept it in mind as he figured it would probably be the one that assigned him a new mission.
> Is there anything I can do to help you?
That one felt rather optional since she was clearly in despair over her lost junk, but he still figured it couldn’t hurt to ask.
Lizzie gave him a very deadpan look and, slowly enough to make it clear that she felt like that had been a stupid question, said: “Yes. You could recover my things. The things I sell. You’re not the brightest tool in the shed, are you?”.
Ranboo heard all three of his party members giggling behind him, but he ignored them.
They could act high and mighty all they wanted, but they would have done the same. Well, maybe Sorcerer wouldn’t have, not because he was any smarter than the other two, just because he hardly ever cared about anyone. The only person in the universe he could see that guy caring about was his husband, and even then he had some doubts. He never spoke about him with the warm fondness that Cleric had for his kids or his world’s version of Tubbo and Ranboo himself, instead, most of the time when he mentioned his husband he sounded like he was talking about a fascinating little bug.
Ranboo was half convinced that Sorcerer viewed everyone as bugs.
Rogue also may have avoided asking due to his social anxiety. Or, at least, Ranboo assumed that was the reason why he never spoke much in general. That and the fact that he probably got in trouble any time he did back at home.
Cleric, however, had no ground to stand on. He was the exact same kind of dumbass that Ranboo was, and he had a big mouth that he never kept shut for more than two seconds in a row. He wasn’t the noisiest member of their party just because Sorcerer was there and he was unbeatable on that front.
To distract everyone from his growing embarrassment over his slip-up, he quickly selected another one of the dialogue prompts.
> Do you know what’s up with this town?
Lizzie glanced at her surroundings as if she hadn’t noticed anything wrong with that place until that very moment. She frowned in confusion at every glitch she found and, by the end of her inspection, she’d been left scratching her head and looking baffled.
“It is quite an odd place…” she admitted. “Well… everything has been pretty weird since I arrived in this world. Nothing functions the way I’m used to and I’m confused all of the time. Then again, nothing new about that last part”. She laughed at the end, and Ranboo let out a polite little chuckle too just to make her feel a little bit less insane.
It was quite interesting to find that even what could have been considered a side character in his adventure apparently had been taken from another world. Just like him, and just like all the rest of his party members. Were there even any people who had been born there? Were the regular citizens from the towns they kept on finding from there? Was the distinction that anyone who was truly sentient had been abducted and everyone else only existed for as long as one of them was in their surroundings?
Lizzie wasn’t the only one finding herself in a constant state of confusion there.
Ranboo had so many theories and it was eating away at him that he had no way to confirm any of them.
Would he even get the chance to receive some answers regarding that town if he snooped around? Was the game-maker making Lizzie oblivious for once so he had to work for his answers?
Maybe there were some newspapers lying around that he could consult yet again. He wouldn’t have minded that, even if they only ever seemed to have two pages at most, with only the headlines being legible. It was silly, but it was one of the few times where he could understand whoever it was that created that world being a bit cheap. Writing articles upon articles that nobody would read anyway seemed sorta pointless.
Finally, exhausted all the other interesting options, he went for the one he knew would allow him to progress with the game.
> Have you seen what direction the bandits headed in?
Lizzie sprung to her feet and grabbed Ranboo’s hand, beginning to pull him toward the outer edges of the town. He instinctively tried to resist at first, but clearly, he hadn’t been meant to be able to do that, because the fish lady was able to easily just keep pulling him along. Or perhaps she just was a lot stronger than she looked… or he was a lot lighter than he remembered being.
She pointed him toward a cave to the side of the train tracks, making sure to stop a good way away from the entrance of it and crouch behind a pile of barrels. “I’ve seen them go there. There are rumors that they have a whole underground system they live in. And, apparently, they’ve been particularly active ever since the Sheriff up and disappeared one day”.
Ranboo nodded, noting every piece of information down in his mind.
In there, it would be hard for them to find their way. It didn’t look like there were too many lanterns or torches hanging from the walls, and he could see the path splitting in two barely a few steps in. He was also certain that the place would be full of traps, dead ends, and low-level enemies they needed to defeat if they wanted to get to the loot room, so they would need to be incredibly careful.
They’d need to go around town and see if there were a few more resources they could gather before going in. He refused to go through their first real dungeon unprepared.
He bid his farewell to Lizzie, took the chance of snapping a picture in one of the spots where it was possible, right in front of the broken down Sheriff’s Office, and set out to look for any weapons or armor shop because he was still only equipped with a fighting stick and he doubted it would carry him much further than he’d already gotten.
He managed to get a rusty dagger for 7g and a thick leather armor with only the back still intact for 5g. They weren’t great pieces of gear at all, but their funds were very limited and he simply could not afford anything else at the moment.
He also talked with a couple more of the locals, and a chat with the owner of a music shop unlocked a new side quest for him: ‘Objective: Find the Five Lost Guitars 0/6’. It was as confusing as everything else about that world, but the guy had promised him a 50g reward if he completed it, and he was too poor to pass up on that. Especially since farming people to beat up wasn’t particularly lucrative since most of them dropped items instead of money.
And, sure, he could probably sell some of the stuff he gained to Lizzie, but most of it was food and he desperately needed that to keep Cleric from nagging at them constantly. His sanity was worth far more than what little he could scrounge up by selling that stuff.
Nobody else gave him quests despite the fact that they’d all been robbed. He suspected that it was because they didn’t have the funds to pay him back in case he succeeded. Maybe they’d be more willing to do so once he opened up the loot room to all of them… if that was the case, he had to make sure not only not to pocket anything he found there, but also to keep an eye on his companions.
His Tommy was dear to him, but he had a severe case of sticky hands. Any time he saw something he liked, it mysteriously ended up in his pockets. Or on a lead secured to his wrist if what caught his attention that time around was an animal, which had happened an awful lot. Cleric, Sorcerer, and Rogue weren’t him, but they also weren’t different enough from him for Ranboo to trust their integrity.
As ready as they could be, they headed for the cave entrance…
… only to immediately end up knocked out yet again.
Notes:
Ranboo just never learn.
In my mind he always rolls a nat1 in perception. He's just so bad at this... though this time his failure may be a blessing in disguise. We'll see.
Chapter 13: The Dungeon
Notes:
Btw, I will be away yet again for a few weeks over Christmas, so the next chapter's gonna be once I'm back!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
When Ranboo regained consciousness he was welcomed by a strong migraine, a sense of deja vu he could have done without, and three pairs of eyes fixed on him.
Rogue and Cleric looked just as confused and disoriented as he was, meaning they probably also just woke up. Sorcerer, meanwhile, seemed just as bored as he usually was when there was no drama happening or no reason to pick a needless fight with Rogue. The only difference from his usual expression was the fact that it looked as if he had dissociated a bit. Ranboo reached that conclusion due to the fact that his mouth didn’t curl into its usual punchable smile and he didn’t start chatting away and flirting as soon as he woke up, unlike all those times they ended up in the dungeon of the orphanage Cleric took over.
Deciding that he couldn’t speak or really focus on his surroundings for as long as his headache persisted, he looked into his inventory and his eyes landed on the three Basic Health Potions. Their description read: ‘Optimal cure for everyday ailments’, so he figured they’d be worth a shot.
He grabbed one, took off its cork, an action that he almost immediately regretted due to how loud the popping sound it made ended up being, and downed everything in it. The effect of the potion was instant, every minor pain and scratch vanished, and, while his headache wasn’t entirely gone, it had diminished enough for him to be functional again.
For some reason, he’d thought that the glass vial that contained the potion would have disappeared upon use. Maybe because that was how it worked in all the video games he liked to play. Well, it didn’t disappear. In a realistic plot twist, he now just had an empty glass bottle in hand. The description for the item had even changed to: ‘Small Glass Vial. ATK 2. It looks like it would shatter on impact if thrown. Mothers everywhere advise against running while holding it’, and its tagline changed from labeling it as a consumable to labeling it as a weapon. He considered throwing it away, but it did more damage than his stick, so he figured he’d be foolish not to keep it, even if it ended up as a single-use item.
Ranboo stashed the bottle away in his inventory and, finally, turned to give his companions his attention. And that was when he realized that there was someone else in that cell other than them.
A blond boy of unclear age was lying face down on the ground in the world’s most uncomfortable position. His nose was pressed between his skull and the compact dirt beneath him, his arms were splayed out at odd angles, seemingly having a few too many joints despite being a regular human length, and his legs were folded as if he’d simply fallen while sitting cross-legged and couldn’t be bothered to untangle them. His shirt also sagged weirdly in the center-left of his back, right above his heart, as if there was just a hole there.
Even without turning him around, Ranboo could tell that he was yet another Tommy, although this one didn’t look particularly… alive.
Immediately, his suspicion went to Rogue. While the little guy hadn’t murdered people in the previous town, he still did have a trench coat encrusted with old blood. It was still possible that he’d simply been butchering animals before he got transported into a new world, but something about his cagey attitude and the guilt that often flashed across his face made Ranboo think otherwise.
Rogue noticed his staring and immediately raised his hands in surrender. “It wasn’t me Big R!” he claimed. “That guy was already like that when I woke up!”.
Neither Cleric nor Sorcerer denied that, so Ranboo decided to take the young teen’s word for it. Sorcerer especially would not have missed such a golden opportunity to score a victory in the one-sided beef he had going on, he was too petty for it. Ranboo was honestly a bit surprised that he hadn’t even attempted to lie to throw Rogue under the bus. Maybe he was more out of it than he’d originally assumed.
Regardless, with that suspicion out of the window, he figured that maybe studying the body would have given him some much-needed clues to figure out what happened. He was even encouraged to do so by a little text bubble appearing over his head with a new mission ready for him: ‘New Objective Unlocked: Give a Voice to the Fallen’. He couldn’t be certain that it was related to the cadaver in front of him, but it did sound like a euphemism for ‘solve this murder mystery’. As if having to figure out Rogue’s whole situation hadn’t been enough. The Game Master was being lazy as usual, clearly.
On a closer look, the boy wasn’t breathing or moving in any way. He didn’t even seem to have a heartbeat, although Ranboo wasn’t entirely sure of that because he remembered Tubbo telling him how easy it could be to miss for someone who didn’t know the proper technique to try and feel it with their fingers, and Ranboo, having grown up as a sheltered kid in the royal palace in the End, had never once been taught how to do so. However, when Ranboo moved the blond’s head to the side to examine his face for injuries, the stranger let out an annoyed groan. Or maybe it was a pained grunt. It was a noise of some kind that he had to be alive to make, that was as far as he got with his deduction.
A barrage of dialogue options obscured his sight entirely then.
> Who are you?
> Are you okay?
> Are you aware of any injuries you may have?
> How long have you been here?
> Do you think you could provide us with a map of the layout of the Bandit’s base?
> * Give the Stranger a Basic Health Potion * [Two in Inventory]
> * Throw Fighting Stick * [Engage in a Fight]
> * Offer Dirty Bandage * This seems fitting for your current condition
> * Throw Small Glass Vial * [One in Inventory. Engage in a Fight]
> Have you seen any guitars around?
> Have you seen a slimy egg around?
> … [Exit Dialogue]
For once, he was genuinely overwhelmed by the sheer amount of choices.
He excluded a couple of his options because the guy already looked to be down on his luck and the idea of kicking his ass while he was in that state seemed kind of sad. Ranboo may have had the world’s most flexible set of morals, but even he wasn’t willing to stoop to that level. Especially since the likelihood of gaining anything from the encounter besides maybe a glare from Cleric was very low.
Asking him for information was out of the question as well. The only thing he could have seen from the weird position he’d been lying in was dirt, and there was no telling how long he’d been like that. He doubted he would know it since there didn’t seem to be a clock anywhere in the cell they’d been locked up in. There wasn’t a window or any natural light filtering in either. As a matter of fact, the only light came from a couple of soul lanterns hanging from the ceiling, so it was quite dim.
The moral thing to do would have been to offer the new Tommy a health potion. With his arms in that sorry state and whatever the heck happened to his ribcage, he clearly was in desperate need of some healing. But, then again, he only had two left and he didn’t wanna waste them in case they ended back there and he needed them for his future migraines.
And, sure, that was a selfish reason to keep the potions to himself, but he never claimed to be a saint.
In the end, he settled for the most basic choice possible. It was an old reliable and he figured it would be a good starting point if he was allowed to keep on talking after.
> Who are you?
The new Tommy blinked his eyes open. He seemed dazed, and his pupils were far too dilated. The world must have been nothing but a blur to him at that moment, so it was no surprise that he soon shut his eyes again and went back to pressing his nose into the dirt. He did mutter something that sounded like “L’Manburg”, but it was so muffled that Ranboo couldn’t be sure he’d heard him correctly.
It definitely didn’t sound like his name, however, so Ranboo figured that maybe he wasn’t coherent despite being conscious still.
Ranboo heard Sorcerer behind him muttering: “What kind of parent names their child ‘L’Manburg?” with a surprising amount of indignation for someone who delighted himself in threatening kids in his free time. Ranboo was willing to bet that, if he had a child, he would have named them ‘Marriage Fraud’ and would have insisted to his death that it was a beautiful and powerful name and that everyone else was wrong for judging him on it. The only scenario he could imagine of him having a child named something else was if his husband beat him to the registry.
Cleric snickered in response. “It’s a place, not a name. At least where I’m from”.
Ranboo forgot that Cleric’s city was also called L’Manburg.
Thinking on it, it was kind of weird that L’Manburg didn’t exist in Sorcerer’s world despite seemingly showing up everywhere else. Then again, the only people he had enough time to talk backstories with were the members of his party, all of whom were Tommys. Maybe if he met more people he would end up discovering that Sorcerer’s experience was far more common than theirs.
Rogue’s voice was full of nostalgia as he piped in as well: “It’s a very special place where men can go emancipate the brutality and tyranny of their rulers…”. His words were the only ones the new Tommy reacted to, as he gave them an approving little hum. Which was peculiar as the way he quoted the anthem sounded quite cultish and almost unrecognizable. Maybe it wasn’t a song where he came from, but a dogma not dissimilar from all the religious ones he probably also believed in based on the small Prime cross tattoo that he had on the inside of his right wrist.
And maybe the same was true for the almost-corpse in front of him.
Once again, Ranboo focused his attention back on the man lying on the dirt more dead than alive and he tried to figure out what to do with him.
He was still unwilling to part with one of his potions, so instead he selected the green cross icon that had appeared right above the almost-corpse and scrolled through the list of Cleric’s spells until he found ‘Cure Wounds’. It hadn’t failed him yet in battle and he figured it would be their best chance at getting him back into talking conditions, so he selected that spell and watched as Cleric approached them and crouched down next to them.
Their party’s healer studied the new Tommy for a few moments before muttering something about his family and bringing his hands down on him. His hands were glowing a bright emerald green, so Ranboo knew that it had to be working, but, once he removed them, nothing had changed. There was still a hole in the poor guy’s chest, and his arms still looked like small mounds of sand arranged into a line to somewhat resemble limbs from afar. The only acknowledgment that Cleric had done something came in the form of another undecipherable grunt from the new Tommy, followed closely by him very lamely trying to spit out the dirt that must have gotten into his mouth when he did so, and then by more annoyed little grumbles when that apparently failed.
It was a pity that recruiting him into their party hadn’t been an option, because he seemed lame enough to fit right in among the blondes Ranboo had already gathered. Well, he’d fit in with Sorcerer and Cleric at least. Yes, Rogue was undeniably his own special brand of pathetic, but he reminded Ranboo too much of his own Tommy for him to feel comfortable admitting that. He was lucky that Sorcerer wasn’t always capable of reading his mind, because he would have been mercilessly bullied for that thought.
Cleric hummed. “First time that happened to me. I think this guy may be an undead. ‘Cause this spell does nothing to those fuckers”. Ranboo never considered the possibility of his teammates being knowledgeable about their powers, so Cleric’s sensible explanation came as quite a shock to him. In general, him knowing anything unrelated to nutrition and house chores seemed almost wrong.
Then again, if there was one thing Cleric excelled at it was surprising him.
A small voice in the back of his mind remarked that the reason why he was so good at it was because Ranboo and seemingly everyone else around them kept insisting on suppressing ninety percent of what Cleric did at any given time. Like the murder. Or the T-posing over someone he just killed. Or his background working as the right-hand man to a dangerous criminal. Or the fact that he was apparently capable of hunting down and efficiently butchering things like deers or wild boars which should have been well out of his realm of expertise since he’d mentioned multiple times that he lived in a big city back home. Really, the more things he learned about their healer the less sense he made in his mind.
With nothing more to see or do, the gigantic dialogue tree from earlier obfuscated his view yet again, though this time with one less option thrown into the mix. There was nothing in it that interested Ranboo anymore, but it still felt rude to just ignore the stranger, so he instead randomly picked one of the non-violent options.
> Have you seen any guitars around?
The new Tommy hummed in interest at the mention of the musical instrument, although he didn’t say anything beyond that. He didn’t need to, however.
Ranboo considered himself rather clever, so it was pretty embarrassing how long it took him to put the pieces of the puzzle together. There were six lost guitars, however, the shop owner only asked him to recover four. And the Tommy-shaped pile of human dust lying on the ground wasn’t dead. Well, he was, kind of, according to Cleric. But he was still alive enough to communicate, even if barely so. What if the objective to give a voice to fallen was more so that he was supposed to find a means of communication for him? He wasn’t certain if a guitar could be used for that, but it was worth a try. The new Tommy could at the very least use it to communicate in Morse code.
Satisfied with his idea and eager to follow the lead he’d just gotten, he closed the conversation with those dreaded ellipses, making a mental note to apologize if he was ever given the chance. With a well-placed Shocking Grasp he, Sorcerer, and Rogue were out of there and ready to explore.
The two guards left outside their cell by the bandits were easy to deal with and Ranboo had the foresight to send Rogue ahead instead of leading the charge, as the younger seemed to have almost a sixth sense when it came to locating and disabling all the various traps on their path. And there were a lot of those. Sure, that made for a more challenging dungeon-raiding experience, but it also wasn’t realistic that the criminals inhabiting that place would willingly put themselves in danger any time they needed to go to the bathroom. Basically, it was a bit overkill.
Considering the flaws in the design of the place, Ranboo made sure not to leave anything unchecked. If he hoped to find the guitars and, luck have it, Lizzie’s damn egg too, he couldn’t risk it. Lucky he did it because he found his very first instrument buried in a toilet bowl. Just crammed in there. It could not have physically fit down the narrow tube, and yet when he managed to pull it out he found it in one piece. The description of it read: ‘Slimy Bamboo Guitar. ATK 5. It was once loved, but it’s been years since it last played those sweet tunes’. A needlessly long and sad description, but it confirmed to him what he’d been thinking. One of those guitars would grant him the ability to recruit the undead Tommy.
Of course, he wouldn’t just give him the first gross ass piece of wood he find hoping that it would pass for an instrument well enough to fool him into gaining some will to live. The best course of action would be to inspect each and every guitar and only then go back for him. And he assumed that meant that whatever the new Tommy could contribute to their party would not be accessible to them until they were done with the bandits' mission. How typical.
Would he ever get the chance to get someone on board by befriending them like a normal person or would an overly complicated quest always be involved?
At least Sorcerer wasn’t being exceedingly annoying that day. He found the sight of Ranboo meticulously checking every nook and cranny of that place too amusing to comment too much on what was happening. Although he did at one point mention something about Ranboo being surprisingly good with his hands, and he was trying really hard to ignore the flirty undertone of that sentence. He was such an idiot.
Cleric seemed upset they’d left his new adopted child behind and Ranboo had wanted to explain to him that they weren’t doing that, they just needed something before going back for him, but, of course, the game wouldn’t allow him that much freedom. All he could do was pat him on the back and pretend that his distraught puppy dog eyes didn’t affect him at all. Damn, his Tommy genes for giving him access to the strongest weapon in existence! As if he needed to be any more dangerous.
Rogue was just focused on detecting the traps. He was being his usual quiet self, and, while Ranboo wished for him to come out of his shell a bit more, he was grateful for the fact that at least being next to him offered him some reprieve from the chaos the other two caused.
That mission was threatening to be another long and tedious one. All he could hope for was that it would take less than the one in Maple Groove…
Notes:
Ranboo's feeling very lucky he accepted that random side-mission right about now. Although he'll feel even luckier once he reaches the next big dungeon in our journey, trust me on that ;)
Chapter 14: The Bandit's Challenge
Notes:
With Christmas now behind us, we're back to the regular schedule of once every two Fridays!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Making their way through the bandits’ den proved to be quite a chore, although, by the time they managed to approach what was labeled as the ‘Boss’ Quarters’, a not-so-subtle nod to the fact that they’d be fighting the final boss of that level there, Ranboo had managed to find five out of the six guitars he required.
The one right after the Slimy Bamboo Guitar was a beautifully decorated ceramic one that he’d found completely by accident when he tripped on a vase and sent it crashing to the floor. He had no clue why anyone would be hiding a guitar in a vase, especially one with a plant growing in it, but he supposed that it was fine if not everything in that world made complete sense. It was a video game-like universe that kept reusing the same character model again and again after all, he couldn’t expect much better from it.
Regardless, a quick glance at the description revealed that, once again, the guitar wasn’t the most suitable to recruit somebody as its description read: ‘More suited for looking at than playing’. Quite an inconvenience if he wanted to use it to ‘give a voice to the fallen’ or whatever.
He found the next guitar by defeating an enemy and he was immensely disappointed when noticing that it wasn’t even an actual guitar but it was instead just a ukulele. Even its description felt mocking ‘This ukulele believes that it too could one day become a guitar if it believes in itself enough!’. A text bubble still notified him that he made some progress in his mission, but he felt no less slighted because of that. Then again, maybe if he could buy it from the vendor after returning the lost guitars and if he figured out how to export items from that world to his he could gift it to Tubbo as his friend had always liked ukuleles. He already owned a couple that he played sometimes for them in the evening to accompany Tommy’s wild campfire stories.
The second to last guitar had been hidden in a very small nook in the wall of the cavern that he would have missed entirely had it not been for Rogue. Their youngest teammate was thankfully incredibly observant and didn’t miss how the faint light from the torches hung along the walls reflected differently off of the golden body of the guitar.
Taking it out of its hiding spot without breaking it had been a whole other ordeal. In the end, one of the strings ended up getting cut, but, thankfully, Cleric knew a cantrip called ‘Mending’ that, while not working like Ranboo’s world’s version of it, still fixed it perfectly leaving no trace of the damage behind. It was cool to know that their healer could basically heal inanimate objects too. By that point, everyone but Sorcerer had proved that they were vital members of the team. Technically, his first-ever party member had gotten him out of the cell at the orphanage more than once, but he didn’t need any more of a boost to his ego, so Ranboo categorically refused to admit that he’d earned his spot on the team too.
All that effort did prove worth it, as the golden guitar was quite an interesting item. Its description read as follows: ‘Golden Guitar. ATK 7. Immune to Fire Damage. Sometimes what glitters truly is gold’. It seemed perfect and he even considered turning back right then and there to try to bribe the new Tommy with it. The only reason why he didn’t was because, if there was one guitar the merchant was sure to notice missing, it was that one. It alone must have been worth a fortune. Besides, maybe it would have been a bit wasted on the guy who looked- and, according to Cleric’s magic, was- more like a pile of dirt than a human.
The last of the guitars that he could find outside of the boss room was being held by a statue of a jester right outside of it. The jester was a rather intimidating one if he had to be honest. Instead of a painted face, it was wearing a heart-shaped mask with a large creepy smile etched into it and black crosses for eyes. The guitar itself was shaped more like a weapon, a scythe to be exact, than a musical instrument.
He hesitated before grabbing the instrument. Doing so felt like one of those irreversible decisions in life. He didn’t want to end his journey cursed by some otherworldly clown.
Still, he had needed it to continue, so, after a couple of minutes of just standing there and watching as his three companions grew increasingly more antsy and bored, he finally reached forward and yanked it free as fast as he could.
No message regarding ancient curses appeared in front of his eyes, but the action did trigger the opening of the doors in front of him. He wasn’t pulled in against his will, thankfully he was able to still do some last-minute preparations as well as check out the latest guitar he’d gotten, but he did get a sneak peek at what was awaiting him. That being a man with gray hair and purple eyes dressed in an elegant black vest, black dress pants, and a bright purple button-down sitting on a throne of Redstone looking like he didn’t know how he got there and like he was definitely in way over his head. Which, for once, boded well for them.
The last guitar wasn’t labeled as a guitar at all in the description, instead being marked as a weapon from all points of view: ‘Clown’s Might. ATK 9. Its piercing notes are sure to strike fear into the hearts of its unfortunate victims’. What a cheerful little thing they’d gotten…
Suppressing the full-body shiver he got from looking at the object too long the best he could, Ranboo stashed it away in his inventory, not wanting to think about it until it was strictly necessary. Maybe it didn’t curse him yet, but that sure as Hell was not gonna bring him any luck either, he was certain of it!
Ranboo took a deep breath, trying to get his heart to stop beating so fast, and, finally, stepped into the room. His party members followed him one by one, with Cleric closing their rear. The door slammed closed as soon as they all made it in, and several Glowstone lamps came to light, brightening the room. They weren’t the only thing that activated either, as the walls too decided to come to life. The black and purple concrete that made them up started contorting and moving like a spiral. It was hard to keep their feet steady while looking at them, and they were impossible to ignore, his eyes would get drawn right back to them any time he tried to look away. They had an almost hypnotic effect.
The gray-haired man rose from his glowing throne as soon as they entered. He must have been trying to appear intimidating, but the slight tremor of his hands betrayed his anxiety. Besides, even as someone whose fighting skills were mediocre at best, Ranboo could tell that the leader of the bandits was no warrior. If he’d built that confusing room, he was certainly a brilliant inventor though, and, sometimes, that alone could be enough to overcome the odds and defeat somebody with years of combat experience.
“You’ve made it far” the man exclaimed, equal parts impressed and intimidated. “But your journey ends here”.
Before Ranboo could even check whether he had been given the option to speak or not, Sorcerer sneered mockingly at their opponent. “You think you can stop us from getting that soup? All by yourself? Ridiculous!”. Of course that was his main concern…
Ranboo had never before met someone so single-minded.
Well, maybe Dream came close to it. His odd obsession with Tommy did occupy most of the space in his mind to the point that, when he’d tried to manipulate his enderwalk pal into working for him, he’d done it almost exclusively with the purpose of being able to spend a few weeks isolating himself with the teen completely undisturbed. He was, without a doubt, an obsessive creep.
However, Tommy hadn’t been his only goal, nor actually a part of any of his goals from Ranboo’s limited understanding of that whole situation. His best friend had recounted to him the speech Dream had given them in the secret vault he’d built under the faraway mountain he’d lured them to post Doomsday, and even while alone with them his explanation of why he thought Tommy was useful to him was vague at best. It only consisted of him insisting that Tommy was unique in his ability to create attachments, which was just objectively untrue, and that, therefore, he was somehow the key to the server? Yeah, it made no sense. Which was why Ranboo was convinced that his obsession with the teen was fully separate from his desire to have complete control over the people of the server and his desire for immortality and ascending to godhood. He used his goals to justify it, but they were all different fixations that he had.
For Sorcerer, the soup seemed to be his only real objective. He put up with and even enjoyed their adventures to some extent, but that was solely because he had an end goal he was looking forward to. Ranboo was starting to dread the day he actually managed to get his hands on the prize…
Unlike Ranboo, their enemy was quite confused by Sorcerer’s comment. “Soup? Like, from the pink-haired fish lady? Oh, we ate those already” he answered casually.
It was the wrong thing to do, and everyone there realized it as soon as the words left his mouth. Ranboo, Cleric, and Rogue all turned toward Sorcerer at once, fearfully awaiting to see how he’d take it. Their healer also made sure to pull him and Rogue back a couple of steps just in case Sorcerer decided to Poison Spray his way through his emotions.
Indeed, Sorcerer’s expression turned cold and stony.
“You what” his words came out as an accusation more than a question. Immediately, his violet eyes met Ranboo’s with a determination shining through them that he’d never seen before. “Let’s murder them all” he ordered. “Let’s make them regret being born”.
From his left, Ranboo heard Rogue muttering something about how he was happy that he wasn’t Sorcerer’s target for once, as he never dealt well with angry people, and a pang of compassion shot through Ranboo’s heart. His Tommy had never been the best at dealing with yells and rage either. It was why he’d famously lost every debate against Techno despite the fact that all of the old Piglin’s arguments were, quite frankly, always kinda shit and full of holes. He wasn’t good at standing up for himself, and definitely not in a public setting.
Before he knew what he was doing, he pulled their youngest party member into a side hug, keeping him there as he considered his options to respond to Sorcerer.
> * Nod * [Engage in a Fight]
> Let’s remain calm here, there’s no point getting so upset over a soup [May affect your party member’s trust lv]
> Let’s remain calm here, we can still recover the Ocean Queen’s belongings, and maybe she can make us some fresh soup with those [May affect your party member’s trust lv]
> … [Engage in a Fight]
Looking at his limited options, he wondered how that part of the mission would have been affected by him choosing to never stop at Lizzie’s stall. He likely could have still found out about the lore of the various towns by picking up newspaper articles or something, but how would this confrontation have gone? Would it have happened at all, or would they have just skipped the talking and started fighting? Because he doubted that even the creator of that world would have been lazy enough to leave him with two options with little to no significant distinction between them.
Of course, since he had chosen that path, now he had access to the obviously correct choice. But still, sometimes he wondered.
> Let’s remain calm here, we can still recover the Ocean Queen’s belongings, and maybe she can make us some fresh soup with those
Their opponent let out a relieved sigh and his shoulders sagged a bit.
At the same time, a text bubble appeared to inform him that Sorcerer’s trust level had gone up, and then, before that one could fade out of existence, another appeared, overlapping with the first, to inform him that he’d reached level two of his companion’s trust. He was still unsure of how that helped him in any way, but it certainly couldn’t hurt either.
“I’m really glad you said that, because I don’t want to fight!” the gray-haired man said, his mouth was twisted into a tense smile, and his hands were still trembling. He must have been aware that he would have lost if it came to that. “And in fact, I wanted to- to offer you a deal! If any of you guys beats my trial, I’ll let you all choose something you can bring out of here from our treasure stash, how does that sound?”.
It sounded like a trap.
But, then again, if it ended up being one, they wouldn’t have an issue finding him again and making him pay for that. A fact he wished he could have used to put the fear of them into the man. Unfortunately, his new speech bubbles only allowed him to either accept or deny the proposal, so it didn’t end up being possible.
Once he agreed to the terms the man had laid out for them, they were escorted to a relatively long corridor in the back, where a parkour course had been constructed with plenty of moving parts to it. They were told that the objective was to make it to the chest on the other side, retrieve the key to the actual vault from it, and then come back. To Ranboo it just sounded like they were being made to do a chore the other didn’t want to have to deal with. Like they were there to clean his messes and nothing more.
After all, if that was the only key to the vault as the gray-haired man insisted, it couldn’t be practical to have to go through all that every time to get it.
Before choosing a companion to send through the tunnel, he inspected everything thoroughly. He couldn’t spot any obvious barrier blocks and didn’t even know if those things existed in that universe. The floor was made of a foam-like material that would absorb their small fall and keep them unharmed if they were to fail a jump. And there was no sheen of oil or other slippery substances on the platforms they had to jump on that would prevent them from making a safe landing. Everything seemed to be in order.
Still, just to make sure of it, he sent Sorcerer ahead to test it.
The first party member that he’d ever acquired, the one who always talked a big game and acted as if he was superior to the rest of them to the point that he sometimes slipped up and called them ‘humans’ or ‘mortals’, fell on the very first jump. It was embarrassing and entirely his own doing as he simply did not seem to know how jumping worked. He was physically unharmed, but his pride would never recover from that kind of humiliation. Probably the reason why he chose to remain seated at the bottom of the pit, arms crossed, and glaring at his legs as if they had personally betrayed him.
He reminded Ranboo a bit of Phil at that moment.
Being an avian, Phil had spent most of his life flying instead of walking. However, after Wilbur’s stunt on the sixteenth, the one Tommy and Tubbo always described as a failed mass murder-suicide, he had been unable to as his wings had gotten burnt to a crisp, and, even after the injuries stopped hurting, they remained mostly scar tissue. Like the half of Tubbo’s body, Techno had so carelessly exploded. Still, an eternity of flying couldn’t be overwritten in a mere few months, and Phil had looked for a while just like a newborn foal every time he tried to take a step.
Cleric was the second one he sent, mostly hoping that he’d be able to heave Sorcerer out of the pit on his way back with his freakishly long invisible arms. He fared much better than the pompous prick that came before him, almost reaching the chest when a piece of the wall jutted out suddenly, pushing him off the platform and down onto the soft surface below.
It wasn’t a completely fruitless attempt, as he did manage to pull both himself and Sorcerer out of there at least. And Ranboo couldn’t say that he was disappointed in him as he was a healer after all, it made sense if dexterity wasn’t his strong suit.
However, that put him a step closer to having to attempt the course himself, and he wasn’t thrilled about that. If he wanted to be a respectable leader for his teammates he couldn’t fall at the first hurdle they met, and yet he was certain that it would be exactly what happened. As much as he had delighted himself in mocking Sorcerer for his embarrassing performance, he knew he wouldn’t be faring much better than him. That was why back in his world, he always relied on Tommy and Tubbo for physical tasks.
Thankfully, Rogue lived up to his namesake. He quickly made his way through the course, avoiding all the little tricks interspersed throughout, grabbed the key, and easily made his way back without falling once. And, as Ranboo hadn’t needed to embarrass himself thanks to him, he would be insisting to the end of his days that he would have just as easily completed the task too, and nobody would ever be able to disprove his claim because, if there was one thing he was sure that every Tommy had in common, it was the fact that they didn’t understand Redstone. Ergo, they couldn’t faithfully recreate the trial to call him out on his bullshit.
Life was bright sometimes.
“Wonderful!” the enemy boss exclaimed, clapping his hands. “I was really starting to worry that the key would stay there forever, and there’s only so much you can distract a hoard of murder-hungry criminals with before they notice that you majorly messed up, were never fit to be their ruler and have them turn on you” his speech was accompanied by a high-pitched nervous chuckle. “Unless you’re Clown. But he’s a one-man army, he doesn’t count”.
Wow, talk about impostor syndrome…
“Yikes. You’re kinda pathetic my man” Cleric voiced what they were all thinking.
The guy sighed, resigned. He didn’t even try to debate that.
What an anticlimactic encounter.
At least they’d be getting rewarded for it, so it wasn’t entirely a waste of their time.
Notes:
Heh, I had a Hell of a lot of fun writing Ranboo in this chapter. He's such an ass sometimes, and I love him for it <3
Chapter 15: The Vault
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The bandits’ vault was a massive cave with rudimentary wooden structures and heavy iron chains securing the areas where the space had been manually expanded. It looked like an enlarged mineshaft built with none of the knowledge and expertise that had aided ancient civilizations for so long. The treasure within it was comparatively quite scarce. Where Ranboo had expected to find piles of diamonds, gold, lapis lazuli, and maybe even some other precious gems that didn’t exist in his original universe, there were only a few items of little to no value scattered around messily: Lizzie’s cart was there, together with a few cooking utensils and a portable fire device he could only assume also belonged to her, there were a few pieces of clothing he couldn’t judge the quality of, but that looked old and well-worn, some tools to work the fields like stone hoes and pickaxes, a couple of lumberjack’s axes that could not be used for fighting, and some small leather pouches with different types of grains spilling out of them. Those grains could have been worth something had they been allowed to grow into crops, but, as things stood, they were just gonna get them a mice infestation.
Ranboo was starting to see how the bandits may have confused the purple-eyed man they encountered for a competent leader seeing the state of their conquests so far.
Sorcerer hurried to collect all of Lizzie’s belongings, while the rest of them looked around the room a bit more in-depth.
Hung on a wall, behind one of the wooden pillars, Ranboo found the only item he truly had an interest in: the last of the guitars. It was the most basic model he’d encountered thus far, a classically-shaped wooden guitar. However, it had been painted red, white, blue, black, and gold in the pattern of the L’Manburg flag, and that alone made it rather exceptional. A quick check revealed its stats to be less impressive than those of the Clown’s Might or the Golden Guitar, but it was not too bad nonetheless: ‘Whimsically Painted Classic Guitar. ATK 6. A relic from a long-lost civilization. Likely once used to inspire soldiers during times of war’. Despite the implications of the description, the conditions of the guitar were pristine, none of its chords were rusted, and there were no signs of weathering on the wood.
It was perfect.
Even more so for the undead Tommy they’d encountered since he’d managed to fumble and introduce himself as ‘L’Manburg’, likely either having misunderstood the question or only having enough energy to tell them where he wanted to go. Perhaps the sight of the oh-so-familiar flag would lift up his spirit.
Happy with his find, Ranboo retrieved the guitar from the wall and joined the others. As expected, Sorcerer selected Lizzie’s full cart as his prize. Rogue, meanwhile, chose an old tattered green bandanna that he quickly fastened around his neck and pulled up to cover his mouth, all without having washed it at any point because, as unusually quiet as he was for a Tommy, he was still a grimy gremlin at heart. Of course, Cleric was quick to notice and yank it away for him, scolding him for the lack of hygiene like an overly concerned mother with their misbehaving child. He also promised he’d give it back once he had the chance to at least rinse it out in some hot water. Their healer, for his part, had simply picked up one of the satchels full of seeds. When asked about it, he shrugged and just mentioned something about how Sorcerer had promised they’d get a base camp eventually, and it would be good if they had a sustainable source of food set up then. Ranboo didn’t remember anything like that being mentioned around him, but, then again, the one cutscene he’d witnessed sort of implied that there were some conversations that happened between his companions that he wasn’t privy to.
Knowing Sorcerer, it was about as likely that he truly possessed some knowledge about their future as it was that he was just spewing whatever he wanted without thinking to either talk for the sake of talking or because he found it funny to trick people. He had done both before. They’d spent plenty of time together, and yet he remained a mystery. And a bit of a dick too.
“Do you know what kind of plants they are? Because we need to know if we want to have any hope of growing them” Rogue’s quiet voice attracted their attention. It was nice to have at least one teammate who could act as a voice of reason any time Ranboo was gagged by the game mechanics. Because he totally was also thinking of asking that, of course.
Above all, Ranboo was smart, methodical, and calculated. No weed could stomp him. Even if usually he could just leave Tommy to take care of that aspect of their life as the teen had always been in tune with the vegetation. Well, he resonated with animals too, be they friendly or straight-up hostile mobs, but that was different. He was the type to grow attached to anything that could breathe, with plants his relationship was more symbiotic… was that because he was a frog hybrid? Maybe it was some kind of swamp power…
Cleric, once again, set himself apart from Ranboo’s Tommy as the only answer he could offer Rogue was a shrug of his shoulders and a dismissive: “They’re plants, innit? Probably just gotta put them in the ground and pour water over them. Maybe some cow shit if we get cows. I’m sure it cannot be that difficult”. Exposing the same exact kind of mentality that Ranboo had adopted in the past that had led almost every single crop he had to wither and die and the rest to rot from the inside out.
In his defense, how was he meant to know that you weren’t meant to water cacti? Or that sugarcane needed enormous amounts of water and was, therefore, better planted right next to a medium-sized pond or river? He’d grown up in the End, the only plants they had there were chorus fruit and those took care of themselves. They used the abundant magic reserves contained in end stone as sustenance. Endermen themselves couldn’t get much nutrition from the ground, but it was well-known among them that if they were low on energy and there were no fruits around the best next thing was to roughly scrape their teeth along the ground, and lick whatever amount of dust they managed to produce that way. The consistency of it was horrid, and the taste was even worse, but it had saved him on a few of his childhood escapades outside the palace. Besides, it was better than the Overworld dirt at least.
It wasn’t better than any of the other foods he could eat in the Overworld though. At least if he wasn’t the one cooking.
Thankfully, both Tubbo and Tommy were decently skilled cooks. They only burned down their kitchen once every two to three months, and usually, it was solely because Tubbo wanted to try out a new prototype of the ‘nuclear furnace’ that he’d been working on for a year or so. Apparently, once it was fully operational, it would reduce the cooking time of every item down to almost zero, and it only had a medium to high chance of giving them radiation poisoning with each use.
Rogue made some vague disappointed noises and gave all three of them a judgy look as Ranboo and Sorcerer nodded along to Cleric’s every word. One would think that Ranboo had learned from losing most of Snowchester’s food to throwing water on every plant until they grew, but he had, in fact, not. The only thing he’d managed to learn from his experience was that it still worked some of the time since his Tommy had managed to salvage a few things from the wreckage.
The youngest of them grabbed the satchel from Cleric and inspected the seeds inside. As he did so, a holographic dice with twenty sides appeared in front of Ranboo. Wanting to get rid of it, he tried to push it away, but all that did was make it spin. It landed on the number eighteen. Immediately, a ‘plus two’ sign substituted itself to the dice, leaving him with the number twenty floating in front of him in big bold colorful text. It looked so cheery. He had no clue what just happened. And the bubble informing him that he’d passed the nature check didn’t help either.
Once everything faded, he noticed Rogue nodding to himself and turning back toward them. “They’re wheat seeds. They take about one and a half to six days to grow. They need sunlight to survive. It needs to be watered daily, though using mist runs less of a risk of killing the crops” he explained everything very slowly, as if he assumed that they weren’t likely to understand him otherwise. Which was most likely an accurate assumption based on Cleric’s vacant gaze and on the fact that Sorcerer had gotten distracted halfway through by a rat scurrying around in the background, but was still hurtful.
Personally, he hadn’t struggled much to follow.
Although he definitely didn’t like the idea of having to produce what was basically fog for those plants. It was his least favorite weather condition. Rain and snow could at least be blocked out if he was well-equipped. An umbrella, a good coat, thick boots, water-resistant pants, and plastic gloves were rather cumbersome but did a fantastic job at keeping him from acquiring any more burn scars. But there was no protecting himself from the fog. It was thick, sticky, and ever-present. That watery bastard was unavoidable if one didn’t choose to remain locked inside. It spelled death for so many of his brethren…
Just thinking about it made a cold shiver run down his spine.
Doing his best to distract himself from those gruesome thoughts, he perused the dialogue options that had appeared at the bottom of his vision:
> How do you know so much about wheat? [May affect your party member’s trust lv]
> Hah! Nerd! [May affect your party member’s trust lv]
> Can you repeat the instructions? Slower this time
> … [Exit Dialogue]
They were back to the most bare-bones of choices it seemed. Had he been Sorcerer or even Technoblade, he knew what he would have picked. But he wasn’t that much of an asshole toward poor orphan kids, so…
> How do you know so much about wheat?
He was notified by a text bubble that his trust points with Rogue had increased, just as he had expected. Sometimes those choices were far too easy. Although he was seriously starting to wonder if it would ever make any difference how high he got their level… with Lizzie it had unlocked some extra dialogue for him to try out, but he didn’t remember anything of the sort with any of his companions. He hadn’t found any use for it during fights either, he had full access to all of their spells regardless, and he could always select for them to Act unless they were out of the fight for one reason or another. Like Sorcerer taking a nap in the middle of one.
Would the creator truly do something like that? Add a whole mechanic and then forget to implement it ever again in any way beyond that first and only instance of it? They had shown themselves to be somewhat lazy, but that felt excessive even for them…
Rogue nervously rubbed the little Prime cross tattoo he had with the thumb of the other hand as he responded. “I was raised in an entirely self-sufficient monastery. All of us were expected to know about this kind of thing as well as how to wash our clothes, make soap, cook some basic stews, pray, and keep our space clean and tidy. So… yeah… I just know this stuff”. A part of Ranboo wondered if his backstory would have been different had he failed that dice roll. There were so many things in that world that seemed to have been left entirely up to chance and, to be completely honest, had he not had people to go home to, he would have wanted to stay and explore each and every possibility that the universe had to offer.
The temptation didn’t trample his yearning for his home, however.
Also, he had yet to discover a way to travel back in time all the way to the beginning. He didn’t know what would happen if he actually died instead of just getting knocked out either. For as much as that world worked like a video game, it felt entirely too real to actually be one, so would he get to save and load his file despite that or not? And what if it was one of his teammates who perished? Was there any way to bring them back? If there was a resurrection mechanic, he had yet to be introduced to it. So he didn’t know how reliable it was, when it applied, or even if it existed.
His curiosity wasn’t strong enough on its own to contrast all of his fears.
He was happy to see that, for once, he wasn’t being forced to leave that awkward atmosphere hanging in the air and walk away because, thankfully, more prompts appeared:
> How did you get from the monastery to L’Manburg? That feels like a big change of scenery…
> If you can cook, why do you always leave it up to Cleric to do? [May affect your party member’s trust lv]
> Can you teach me how to make soap too?
> You seem very devoted, so why do you always hide your tattoo?
> For someone who’s supposed to know how to keep everything around him clean and tidy and how to wash his clothes you sure let that trench coat of yours get quite ruined… How come? [May affect your party member’s trust lv]
> … [Exit Dialogue]
Ranboo had a feeling that the two options that would have an effect on his party members would end up having a negative one, so he discarded them without much thought. It was something with their tone that just rubbed him the wrong way. They felt very passive-aggressive. And the second one was downright stupid since he knew that Rogue had been stuck in prison pretty much from the moment that he’d landed in that world. And, for as much as he knew, he was on the way home ready to wash that disgusting old thing when he got abducted.
That left him with three choices that were all rather reasonable.
Soap could be useful in the future, although he’d been doing just fine his whole life taking sand baths and occasionally taking a dip in a lava pool, provided he had a drinkable fire potion at hand. But maybe the others would appreciate being able to resume some more traditional Overworld costumes. Living the nomadic life wasn’t too comfortable, and they undoubtedly craved a modicum of normality.
On the other hand, he was curious to know more about Rogue and his past, and he was afraid he wouldn’t soon get another chance to ask him about it directly.
The youngest of them never spoke as cryptically as Sorcerer did, but, thinking about it, Ranboo knew far less about him than he did about the pompous prick. Mainly because the kid didn’t speak much. And, even when he did, it was usually to issue some kind of correction or to offer a very dry comeback to whatever bullshit their masked teammate had just spewed.
A little at a time, he’d been collecting facts about Sorcerer. He knew he was married to his world’s version of Tubbo, he knew that he didn’t seem to have a particularly strong opinion on Wilbur Soot, but definitely did on the Blood God, and he knew that L’Manburg had likely never existed in their world, or hadn’t yet been founded at the very least. He also knew plenty about his personality, his likes, and dislikes. At times more than he wanted to. He would be happy to live his life without listening to any new anecdotes concerning Sorcerer and whatever that guy considered to be ‘food’. The things he’d heard during the evenings in the inn or around the campfire would haunt him forever.
Comparatively, he knew very little about Rogue. And most of the things he had deduced were mainly based on his uncanny resemblance to Ranboo’s Tommy.
Mind made, he selected what felt to him as the more open-ended question:
> How did you get from the monastery to L’Manburg? That feels like a big change of scenery…
Rogue, yet again, exhibited some signs of nervousness when answering the question. He pulled up his black bandanna far enough to cover all of his nose and half of his eyes, and then went back to tormenting his poor tattoo, this time using his short jagged nails to scratch at it, leaving angry red marks all over it. Ranboo wished he could stop him from hurting himself, but, most of the time, he was stuck during the dialogue sections. Thankfully, Cleric stepped in, taking Rogue’s hands in his and mindlessly swinging them back and forth in a gentle yet constant motion that managed to calm the younger down.
It was times like those that reminded him that Cleric was an actual parent, unlike all the rest of them. He had three kids, of course, he’d dealt with having to soothe their anxieties before!
“Uhm… Wil… Wil came in one day. Said something about how he wanted to study us or whatever. I think the Elders allowed him in because they thought he was a scholar? Anyway. I was tasked with being his shadow, which entailed mostly keeping him from venturing where he shouldn’t and showing him around. We became friends in the months he spent there, so, when he left and offered me to go with him, I did. L’Manburg was formed a while later. I already found Tubbo by then, and Wil had a kid. So he said we should make somewhere safe for all of us to stay. And he made a place similar to the monastery. Self-sufficient with a tight-knit community, strict rules, and him at the head of it. So it really wasn’t that much of a change for me, it was a bigger change for Tubbo. Mostly because he never liked Wil one bit, he always said that he felt like the type of guy who would organize a mass suicide one day which… well… I guess wasn’t far off after all…”. Ranboo grew more worried with every uncertain word Rogue spoke.
He never wanted to be the kind of prick who jumped to conclusions about everything… but that definitely sounded like he’d been raised in a cult, and then he left it, only to end up in another one. And maybe he was wrong about his assumptions, but he trusted Tubbo’s gut feeling about things. Even if it wasn’t his Tubbo that the other was talking about.
And the worst thing of all was that he wasn’t even offered any comforting words he could tell the teen. So, in the absence of that, he just did the first thing he could think of and hugged him, which only made everything more awkward since Rogue didn’t seem to have any clue why Ranboo, Cleric, and even the Bandits’ Boss could possibly have been giving him such sorrowful looks.
The only thing Ranboo could hope for after that was that gaining a new teammate would work to lift his spirits because that sure had been a busy day full of disappointment and trauma.
Notes:
Yeah... let's just say that Rogue's universe is a rough one from a few points of view. There are valid reasons why he never talks about it... hey, at least they're gonna get a new recruit very soon, am I right? I'm sure the new Tommy isn't at all traumatized... ignore the fact that he's made of several small piles of dirt right now...
Chapter 16: Objective Completed: Give a Voice to the Fallen
Notes:
Sorry for the delay guys, I was busy spending time with my partners this evening.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Back to the cell they’d woken up in, they found the undead Tommy in the exact same position as they’d left him, the only difference was that he looked far worse than before. His face was lying way too flat against the ground, indicating that he’d either eaten enough dirt to make space for his nose, or that too had crumbled. His arms were lumpier than when they’d left him, as if a breeze had swept through there and scattered him around and only his clothes had kept him together. And his ribcage had caved in entirely, leaving only a giant chasm in its place.
Seeing him in that condition, Ranboo wondered if they’d taken too long.
There was no way they could bring back to life a literal pile of dirt! Especially not when Cleric’s healing magic didn’t even work on him. And neither he nor Sorcerer knew any revival spells as far as Ranboo was aware. Rogue didn’t know any at all, and neither did he.
Unfortunately, being kidnapped to a new world and put in charge of the destinies of at least a few people within it did not come with a consolation prize of some cool new abilities. He just got a non-consensual wardrobe change, a dirty bandage, a camera that he couldn't use for any practical reasons, and a stick for a weapon that was as bad as fighting bare-handed. The pitiful state of his original inventory felt far more mocking than if it had been left empty.
The worst part of that whole situation was that he had no clue how to play the guitar. And ukuleles weren’t better, he’d always refused to learn it as it felt a bit pointless when Tubbo could do that so well. He was regretting that decision now seeing as just nudging the maybe-fully-dead Tommy didn’t have any effect. The dialogue three that usually popped up when he was all out of ideas wasn’t present and neither were those very convenient color-coded icons that told him which one of his party members he could puppet to obtain what he wanted. He was truly screwed.
After his tenth attempt at annoying the Tommy into regaining a voice failed, he sighed and just dropped the guitar and turned toward the others.
Sorcerer looked amused at the whole ordeal. Typical of him, he probably couldn’t wait to be done with their rescue mission to have another go at acquiring his precious soup. Empathy truly wasn’t his strong suit. Not that Ranboo could judge him much over that seeing as he only ever seemed to be able to sympathize with alternate versions of his two best friends. Heck, he hesitated a second when it came to getting rid of any of the small obstacles in their way during their journey so far… just like he hadn’t back home when ordering Tommy and Tubbo to kill Niki and Jack.
Had he been a more self-aware person, that could have led to a good moment of self-reflection. Instead, he just huffed in annoyance at Sorcerer’s lack of cooperation and moved on to silently begging his other two teammates for help.
Cleric at least seemed to be thinking hard about the problem at hand. His face was all scrunched up and his expression was one of pure focus. Had the undead Tommy been more conscious, he probably would have felt uncomfortable at the intensity of his gaze. Still, he wasn’t the brightest and all he could come up with was a suggestion of: “You should maybe start playing yourself. If he’s like a kid I reckon he’ll try to copy you”. It wasn’t a bad idea per se, Ranboo himself had considered it earlier. It wasn’t one they could carry out, however, unless, in a plot twist for the ages, one of his party members turned out to be able to play. Because the only result they could get from Ranboo if he touched any instrument whatsoever was the musical equivalent of the agonized moans of an angry ghast.
That could work to strike fear into the hearts of his enemies, but not much else.
If those horrid sounds had healing properties, his Tommy would have found that out at some point during one of the many trips he took to the Nether to ride those infernal beings and chat with various Piglin tribes, all of whom always treated him way too much like one of them for Ranboo’s comfort. He and Tubbo had to go pick their friend up from a bastion in a heist-like fashion far too many times not to believe that the piglins were intent on adopting him and stashing him away with the rest of their gold.
At least Technoblade never staked any claims over him. Ranboo would have lost it if he had to deal with that bullshit in the Overworld as well.
Rogue was even less helpful. He was still focused on the wheat seeds he’d confiscated from Cleric. It took a while for him to even notice Ranboo looking at him, let alone understand what was going on, and come up with an idea. And what he ended up settling on was morbid and rather concerning: “Do you think he’s made of fertile enough dirt to plant seeds in once he’s fully gone? Wheat grows a lot faster on rich soil”. It was the type of input he’d come to expect from Sorcerer, maybe Cleric if he was in one of his quirkier moods, but definitely not his sweet boy! He had no reason to do so, but he blamed that entirely on Sorcerer. That guy was a bad influence on all of them. He was like the world’s worst uncle.
Actually, was he older than them?
He did sometimes feel older, but Ranboo realized that he had no idea of what the age of anyone there was. Maybe he should find out eventually. What if their little group swung by a tavern and it turned out that he was the only one old enough to drink? Okay, technically he knew that Cleric was a legal adult, however, depending on what the drinking age was in that world that could have meant everything and nothing depending on what his actual age was. Then again, being just eighteen, the same was true for him.
Anyway, regardless of age, Sorcerer gave off annoying uncle vibes. Maybe he could be convinced to lower that to annoying cousin if he turned out to be a lot younger than he seemed, but that would be a long and arduous debate that he doubted anybody had the patience to entertain.
Despite not being given the option to talk with the quickly-dusting Tommy, he was given the ability to respond to Rogue’s inquiry. That was the first time since he’d gotten there that he truly wished he could just rudely ignore somebody.
> I don’t think he’s organic enough to function as a fertilizer
> Maybe we should focus on saving him for now, before wondering about all that
> Have you ever used someone as fertilizer before? [lv. 4 Trust required to perform this Action]
> We won’t know until we try! [Turn The Fallen into a Corpse]
> … [Exit Dialogue]
Ranboo stared at that third option for a long time.
That didn’t make sense.
He was far too early into that adventure to be able to get anyone’s trust level that high. Heck, even Sorcerer had just reached level two and he was the first party member he’d ever acquired! Sure, he wasn’t the easiest one to gain the trust of, Cleric had been the first he bumped up the level of, but still, he’d been there far longer than Rogue and he was nowhere near that kind of level. Their healer wasn’t either despite being generally overly trusting and kind.
So, either he’d been playing that game very wrong and he’d been missing out on way too many interactions to recover at that point, or that was meant only as an ominous piece of foreshadowing and not as an actual option. Was the entity who dragged them all there trying to sow mistrust between him and his party members by implying that Rogue was a murderer? Joke’s on them, because so was he. And so was Cleric for as much as his brain continued to refuse to admit it. He worked for a whole-ass supervillain and everything… which, as far as he understood it, basically meant that his boss was basically a rich serial killer and he had no moral qualms with that fact. Neither did Ranboo. His friend deserved a well-paying job.
After some consideration, he decided to keep that little piece of information to the back of his mind in case he ever needed it further down the line and move on as if he’d read nothing.
> Maybe we should focus on saving him for now, before wondering about all that
Rogue looked away sheepishly and nodded. His eyes landed on the guitar lying flat on the ground next to the undead Tommy and he hummed. “What if that’s the wrong guitar? We got six, right? Maybe that one doesn’t resonate with him”. Ranboo was embarrassed to admit that he hadn’t thought of that. Somehow, the youngest of them kept proving to be by far the most clever among them in certain regards.
Ranboo picked the classic guitar back up. It felt like the best fit still because of the L’Manburg flag painted on it, but what if he’d jumped to conclusions far too quickly? One throwaway line that was basically just one word maybe wasn’t the best to base his entire understanding of the new guy on. Besides, if he was willingly lying there, decomposing instead of doing anything to help himself as it seemed, perhaps even if his original assumption had been right, and that guitar would have been a lovely present for him, that still wasn’t what he was looking for. He seemed to be stuck in a very self-destructive mood, so wouldn’t something antithetical to all things Tommy make more sense for him at the moment?
He looked through his options one more time. The Slimy Bamboo Guitar was out of the question, it was gross and it emanated a rather foul odor that he had no intention of dealing with for his whole journey, besides, if his Tommy’s taste in pets was anything to go by, that too would have been pleasantly received. The Ceramic Guitar, for as beautiful as it was, wasn’t functional, so it wasn’t really a choice. The ukulele felt kind of mocking, especially with the description it had. Admittedly, he wasn’t sure if his companions could also read item descriptions or not, but it was better to be safe than sorry. The Golden Guitar ran the risk of being too good for how the undead Tommy was feeling, much like the Whimsically Decorated Guitar maybe did if his theory turned out to be correct.
That left him with only one option.
With a great amount of dread, he pulled the Clown’s Might out of his inventory. It was dark, edgy, and shaped like a weapon. His Tommy would have made fun of him for just holding it, saying that it fit his whole persona far too well. Tubbo too would have joined in on the mockery just to point out that he didn’t even know how to use scythes and that it was simply pretentious for him to be holding one. And then they would have dragged him off to train because, in their words, he had to learn some proper self-defense just in case. They never mentioned what they feared could happen to him, but looking at their lives, it felt plenty obvious that the looming threat of wars and destruction was always on their minds. He’d been doing his best to make the world safer for them, mercilessly dealing with one inconvenience at a time, but he knew that wasn’t enough. Their wounds, the invisible ones that existed only in their head but were no less real for that, would take time to heal. Years most likely.
Hesitantly, he tried to use that guitar to poke the undead Tommy’s side.
The effect was immediate. The disconnected lumps that had once been his arms stitched themselves back together to the symphony of wet mud being slapped around, his nose came back as well, and the hole in his ribcage diminished in size, although that one didn’t disappear entirely which was rather worrying. A pale hand reached out for the guitar and a mischievous grin he knew far too well appeared on the guy’s face. He expertly strummed a few notes and then looked up at them. “I’m back bitches!” he sang. Not spoke, actually sang. As if he’d just made his entrance in a musical.
What an odd character.
Then again, perhaps to be the type to prefer rotting in one of the cells of a bunch of disorganized and incompetent bandits instead of going to look for a musical instrument himself, which he was clearly capable of doing seeing as nothing magical had happened to put him back together, he kinda had to be a tad bit weird. Nothing wrong with that. None of them were normal anyway.
“I’m betting Cleric on the fact that he’s gonna be a bard” Sorcerer fake-whispered right next to his ear, loud enough for everyone else to hear, but not enough to make his head ring. Ranboo had no clue when he’d moved closer. He could be so sneaky when he wanted despite always moving so damn clumsily.
He’d be lying if he said that it didn’t freak him out a little bit. He had goosebumps from that little interaction and his heart was racing. It was like in horror movies when the protagonist looked behind themselves only to find out that danger had caught up with them just as they thought they were safe. He didn’t know why the guy set off his fight or flight instincts so badly when he’d never done a single thing to harm him. He wasn’t even the most violent one in their group, that title belonged to Cleric, and yet…
Speaking of their healer, he let out an offended squawk at Sorcerer’s words. “I don’t remember ever giving you permission to use me to satisfy your gambling addiction!” he huffed “At least I got paid to act as a lucky charm in casinos…”. Cleric had the opposite problem compared to his other two teammates. He was incredibly open about his life and himself in general and Ranboo never felt ready for any of the things he learned about him. He didn’t know how to unpack that and had no desire to even try.
Sorcerer was in Ranboo’s same predicament. He opened his mouth once, clearly wanting to ask and satisfy his curiosity, but quickly thought better of it. Truly, their healer was the only one capable of shutting him up so well. And he was pretty sure that the guy didn’t even do it on purpose. It was that weird mix of him giving off parental vibes while also being unhinged and having lived a life none of them could imagine that just had that effect on people.
The new Tommy, likely to soon be called ‘Bard’ seeing how accurate Sorcerer’s hunches usually were, looked between the two of them for a moment, before strumming his guitar again and quietly singing: “Awkward…”.
Ranboo wondered if he could speak at all without that thing.
That interaction seemingly cemented the end of that cut scene and, with it, the end of one of his two objectives since a pop-up text that said: ‘Objective Completed: Give a Voice to the Fallen’ appeared in front of him. Right after that disappeared, he was also informed that Bard had been added to his party. It was the first time that he didn’t have to ask. Apparently, as he had chosen not to turn him into fertilizer for Rogue’s wheat, the universe had now decided that he was his problem.
Leaving the bandit’s den was easier than getting in. The bandits had apparently fled the area after it was revealed that someone had been able to defeat their Boss. They’d left behind all of their traps, which made sense. But at least they didn’t have to stop every two steps to fight people. Ranboo was about done with all of that for the day.
They’d had a busy day and he was tired beyond belief. And finding an inn to sleep in now that there were even more people would be a lot pricier. All money that they didn’t have. And that, of course, meant another night of camping in an uncomfortable makeshift tent, dealing with bugs, and having to keep a fire going throughout the night just to avoid any potential predators. Cleric and Sorcerer were usually more than happy to take care of that last chore, the first because he wanted to care for all of them, the latter simply because he enjoyed roleplaying as an arsonist, but Ranboo still felt bad for leaving something so annoying entirely to others. Unfortunately, that game-like world didn’t allow him to wake up during the night to help no matter how much he tried. Not unless there was a cutscene that he needed to eavesdrop on.
Thankfully, for once the universe rewarded one of their good deeds.
When they returned the guitars to the music shop, minus the Clown’s Might that the shop owner insisted was never theirs to begin with, they were rewarded with a room for the night, a warm meal, and 10g. It wasn’t much but it was better than they’d ever gotten from any of their violent encounters. Perhaps doing good deeds was the way to go to get rich in that world. A weirdly wholesome message from the creature who had abducted them all from their homes.
Their good spirits were crushed the morning after by Lizzie telling them that all of the ingredients she stored in her stall to make her special soups had also been eaten by the bandits. She would need to acquire a few more before she’d be able to give them their reward. No amount of gratitude and apologies from her were enough to calm down Sorcerer’s tantrum.
Still, at least it now felt like they were getting to the end of that journey.
They decided that they would meet up in the next town over, and their little group headed off to the train station, while Lizzie walked in the opposite direction. Somehow, Ranboo still didn’t doubt that she would make it there before them. She was as much of a cryptid as Sorcerer was, to be honest. She always knew too much and she always had her ways.
Leaving Tumble Town so soon felt kind of bittersweet. Especially since Ranboo couldn’t imagine that there were that many more people for him to gather. It felt like that journey would soon come to a close, and that… that saddened him more than he thought it would.
Notes:
I hope you guys like the new quirky fellow we have acquired. Ranboo is deffo still on the fence about the guy, but, then again, when is he not at the start?
Chapter 17: No Good Answer
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Getting onto the train was easier that time around. The guy who was supposed to be checking the tickets was too distracted by a young Tommy in a steampunk outfit who looked awfully familiar by that point, and his giant blond spider to pay them any mind. Ranboo was pretty sure the kid had a dog last they’d seen him, but he could have been wrong about that. A horrifying crawly creature felt more like his style regardless.
Truly, there was no animal out there that Ranboo disliked as much as spiders. And no, it wasn’t because he was jealous of Shroud, as his two best friends loved to imply. He and Tommy’s pet had a pretty decent mutual understanding that it was best if they stayed out of each other’s way. They were both much happier for it. No, the truth was that he simply found them unsettling.
He didn’t consider his fear to be strong enough to count as a phobia, but it was definitely enough of a weakness that he would not feel safe talking about it with Sorcerer. It was that kind of weird in-between thing.
Regardless, for once he was happy to see one of those horrible creatures as he was reminded that he wasn’t the weird one for disliking them. The train conductor was just as averse as he would have been to the idea of letting the boy’s pet on board. And their loud arguing was a pretty dang good distraction.
With now five of them, the small compartments of the train were a bit cramped. Bard offered to climb up in the luggage compartment and rest there, but, against Sorcerer’s wishes, Ranboo shot down that idea. It didn’t seem safe and, besides, they kinda needed the space for his guitar since nobody else wanted to hold onto it for fear that it would curse them, and their new party member was too excited at the prospect of getting to become one with his seat to hold onto it himself.
One of the reasons why Ranboo doubted they’d be getting any more party members was because he struggled to see how someone could get wackier than Bard. And, by that point, anyone less bizarre would feel like a disappointment. Then again, it wasn’t as if the one who had created that world was especially competent, so he wouldn’t have been too surprised to find out that they had no idea about the concept of constant escalation, aka how it was needed to raise the stakes every time if one wanted to retain the audience’s attention. In this case, he considered himself the audience. He was there against his will and he’d been forced into the role of the protagonist, so he deemed being entertained to be the bare minimum of what he was owed.
Anyway, he ended up with Sorcerer sitting beside him, while Bard, Cleric, and Rogue sat opposite them. Their healer was right across from him, which he assumed could only mean that the cutscene he’d get this time around would involve him. He was proven right when Rogue and Bard fell asleep and Sorcerer decided to go for a walk up and down the corridor outside to release some tension. Ranboo would have warned him against doing so had he been given the possibility to, but, alas, he wasn’t. So, predictably, he was treated to the sight of Sorcerer taking a step, only for the train to shake ever so slightly, making him lose his footing, and sending him rolling away.
Oh well. Nothing he could do about that.
As soon as the door to their compartment slid shut again, Ranboo turned back to Cleric, eager to see where their conversation would bring them.
His companion was looking straight at him. He looked bored out of his mind. It was a surprise he hadn’t decided to just sleep away the whole journey since he never enjoyed being understimulated. It was something he’d noticed during the course of their journey, although more so in a passive way than usual. It was hard to miss how Cleric always needed something to do and always kept himself busy, be it by hunting or foraging for some food, cooking, or tending to their campfire, he was always active. That could have been because of the restless nature of every Tommy he’d encountered so far, but something told him that it was something different.
Boredom was their healer’s biggest enemy.
“You know…” Cleric started after keeping up the unblinking eye contact for an uncomfortable amount of time for Ranboo’s half-enderman brain. “We all talk a lot, but I feel like we haven’t learned anything about you. I can’t take care of you properly if I don’t know what you need” the last sentence was uttered in a whiny tone befitting of Sorcerer. Of course, as the unofficial parental figure of the entire group, that was what bothered him most. Selflessness was one of the few traits their healer shared with his Tommy back home. Well, assuming that that was actually the motivating factor behind his actions.
By then, Ranboo knew plenty about Cleric. Mainly things he would have rather not known. However, the fact that the differences between him and what he was used to were so pronounced, made it hard for him to understand the guy, no matter how vast his knowledge was.
Cleric was a different kind of puzzle compared to Sorcerer or Rogue, one that made him feel much dumber. Because he had all the pieces to solve it, but, for some reason, his brain kept fixating on trying to fit the round peg that was his perception of the guy into the square hole that was the reality of who he was. He recognized that he was doing that, just as he recognized that his perception of the other as a saint-like figure who could do no wrong wasn’t correct, but he didn’t know how to stop those kinds of thought patterns. Was it even possible, or did he just have to deal with the incongruences until he grew used to it all?
What would it mean for him if he actually managed to solve all the mysteries of his teammates? Would he still be able to let them go once it was time to do so?
He didn’t know, and thinking about it made him just as uneasy as looking at a spider did.
To distract himself he did his favorite thing and perused his dialogue options:
> [Lie] There’s nothing to learn about me [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> [Deflect] I don’t know much about you either [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> [Dismiss] I don’t see how that’s relevant to anything [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> [Distrust] Why do you want to know? [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> [Defend] I don’t trust any of you enough to reveal anything about myself or my past yet [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> [Disrespect] And what makes you think I’d tell you of all people? All I know about you is that you’re a criminal! [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> [Confess] It’s because I don’t think you would trust me if you learned what I’m capable of, what I’ve done, what I made others do… [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
For the first time since he’d gotten to that world, Ranboo couldn’t choose. He was paralyzed, looking at every option over and over again hoping that at least one easily identifiable good one would pop up. None did. He was stuck with seven choices, which was a lot by that world’s standards, one worse than the other.
Social interactions to him had always felt like a multiple-choice test. He wasn’t allowed to leave until he got through all the questions, and most of the answers he was provided with were wrong. He lost count of how many times he’d picked wrong. Of how many times he didn’t understand that, despite what he was told as a kid, truth wasn’t always the desirable answer, and lies were only untrue if his opponent figured out that he was trying to deceive them in the first place.
However, usually, unless the other person purposefully set him up to fail, which Cleric hadn’t done despite working for the master of setting people up for failure, there was a correct option. There was a way out, a way to win the game, a way to rebel against the odds. He wasn’t seeing that among the sea of words obfuscating his vision.
And, sure, one may have thought that the last of the prompts was maybe that, however, he wasn’t so sure of it. Confessing that there was something worth hiding in his past was as good as announcing that he wasn’t trustworthy. It would be harder to assert himself as the team’s leader then, even if the universe itself was trying to push that dynamic on them.
What if his teammates could decide to leave the party? What if choosing wrong would lead to that? He wasn’t ready to lose anybody so soon. Not after he’d gone through so much trouble just to recruit them. Not when they’d only just gotten Bard on board.
At least there were a couple of definitely wrong answers that he knew to avoid. Nothing good could come from being rude to Cleric, he would get smacked for daring to do so, possibly not even by their healer. And questioning where his curiosity came from also felt off when he’d been digging around for pieces of information about them for days by that point. It would have come off as hypocritical, and he hadn’t been Techno’s protege long enough to make that a core part of his being. Besides, their healer hadn’t even directly tried to get anything out of him, he just whined playfully. He probably would have been happy to drop that if the universe hadn’t taken him so damn seriously all of a sudden!
In the end, he went with the option that made the most sense for him, albeit hesitantly:
> There’s nothing to learn about me
It was the least aggressive one among those that weren’t likely to cause an immediate drop in Cleric’s trust. And, while whoever controlled the narrative insisted on labeling it as a lie, it wasn’t really one. Not entirely. Who even got to decide what was worth knowing and what wasn’t? Maybe their healer wouldn’t have cared less about his life, even if he did tell him all about it! He certainly wouldn’t have cared about the murders and all the subterfuges considering what his line of work was. Hell, maybe he would have even congratulated Ranboo for some of his ingenuity!
Regardless, a simple lie was sometimes the best way to preserve the status quo.
Not that time, however.
Right as he was about to let out a breath of relief as Cleric’s stats were shown to be unchanged, he was notified of a drop in Rogue’s trust level, as well as an increase in Sorcerer’s. Bard’s, much like Cleric’s, remained unchanged. It didn’t go as badly as it could have gone, but it still hurt to know that he’d somehow broken Rogue’s trust in him. He didn’t know how it had happened as the boy was still blissfully asleep, but it did.
Would there be consequences for it later on down the line? More secrets that he wouldn’t be able to unveil all because he screwed up? Would he replace Sorcerer as the target of Rogue’s rare bouts of animosity? Would he be unable to secure a good ending for his sweet boy all because of this?
Maybe he was being a bit dramatic, but he could never be sure in that damn world. Right then, more than ever, he wished there was a way to go back, to do it all over. Thought was power in that world, and soon he found himself in an empty void, looking through the gallery of pictures he had taken along his journey. From the very first one of Sorcerer sitting in that grassy clearing he’d found him in, to the latest one of the train still in the station that he’d taken earlier that day before boarding. There were no instructions telling him what to do, but he still understood. Those were save points. He could go back. He could do it all again, explore every option, every path of dialogue he missed, every alternative path. He could change the story however he pleased.
“Careful what you wish for, Player” Sorcerer’s disembodied voice rang in his ears, dragging him down from the heights this newfound power lifted him to.
Would it be worth it?
He’d been wanting a way to explore more, learn more, and talk more from the start. And he was aware of a couple of the mistakes he’d made now. Maybe he’d be able to recruit everyone faster. It would be a breeze to do an even better and more efficient job the second time around.
However, he was the only one who got a choice in the matter.
What happened to everyone else?
They weren’t just characters in a video game, as much as the creator of that universe tried to convince him otherwise, they were people with real lives and loved ones waiting for them. Could Cleric’s kids afford to wait even longer for his return? Would Rogue find his bloody world still standing if he sent him back too late? Would Bard survive long enough for him to quench his thirst for knowledge? Sorcerer would likely be just fine, but he couldn’t stop worrying about the others.
And what about his best friends? What were they up to? Would they be okay with him gone even more weeks? Would they understand why he did it? Had they moved on already, steady as a unit as they’d become, or were they rotting, lying on the floor of the mansion, waiting for his return like the world’s saddest dogs? Would he be able to forgive himself if his indulgence cost them their lives?
As selfish as Ranboo considered himself, he didn’t think he had the gall to wield such an immense power. Remorse wasn’t something he knew how to handle. It always led him down dark paths.
The pictures faded from his mind, and soon he found himself face-to-face with an unimpressed Cleric yet again. He didn’t seem angry or disappointed, just bored yet again. “I don’t believe that for a second” he stated. “But fine, keep your secrets for now. I’ll figure you out eventually” the last few words sounded like a promise. And, for once, Ranboo welcomed the challenge. After a moment, his companion added: “Bet you killed somebody before. You got the face of someone who knows what killing feels like” then he snorted “Well, we all do in this party”.
Ranboo was left sputtering and trying to grapple with the fact that Cleric had clocked him perfectly. He didn’t know how accurate his assessment of everyone else there was, but he was at least right about him. Although maybe knowing a bit more about his world, he would have assumed that all his crimes had been committed during a time of war, which couldn’t have been further from the truth seeing as he was one of the few inhabitants of his world who had managed to skip out on any major fight.
He hadn’t even fought to keep the country that had welcomed him with open arms safe during Doomsday. Back then, he’d been foolishly holding onto his idea that sides were detrimental to the world. Deep down, he believed that the fall of New L’Manburg would have turned out to be beneficial for everyone. He never expected the kind of repercussions it had on all of its former citizens. He didn’t expect them to drift apart, to become bitter, resentful, and violent. He didn’t expect there to just be more conflicts, more fractures, more chaos. He’d been so stupid to think that there were two sides to every war when, truly, there was only one: the losing side.
Since then, he’d worked hard to repent. To change and become better than he was before. He took his losses in stride and sharpened his naivete to turn it into a weapon. And he’d tightened his grasp on those he held dear so he could make sure that they wouldn’t slip away from him like they’d done before anymore. He had changed. He’d turned into the monster everyone saw his best friends as. And it had been for the better.
It didn’t seem possible seeing the state he’d found them in, but he hoped that Rogue’s and Bard’s worlds had been a bit kinder to them. Well… multiple cults and that one mass suicide attempt aside for his sweet boy. He only knew about those things in passing, but they certainly didn’t bode well. Still, there was some hope there.
> Who do you think Sorcerer killed?
> Who do you think Rogue killed?
> Who do you think Bard killed?
> … [Exit Dialogue]
The responses he was given that time around finally felt safer. He’d somehow made it out of the deeper water and was now allowed to stand in the shallows and only burn up to his calves. It was nice.
His brain was fried, however, so, instead of pondering on what to choose, he closed his eyes and selected something randomly. For once, he would even have been okay with cutting the dialogue short.
> Who do you think Bard killed?
Cleric quickly glanced to his right, leaning away from the backrest of his seat to be able to look past Rogue and at his target. After a few moments of concentration, he shrugged and relaxed his posture again. “Probably someone he regretted. Also, bet he tried to kill himself before, just looking at him. I think he only failed because he was never truly alive in the first place. Doesn’t look like the type, at least”. That day it seemed as if Cleric’s one objective in life was to leave him speechless, because since when was he that intuitive and insightful? Ranboo had started to assume that he was a dumbass when it came to anything but house chores and nutrition, which was fine, he didn’t need to be brilliant to be fun to be around or a valuable member of their team. Now he knew that he’d been wrong.
His Tommy was the same.
It was easy to dismiss his intelligence when he yelled nonsense at the top of his lungs from dawn to dusk. There were only so many times he could ask those around him who their favorite woman was before it started getting old and repetitive. However, sometimes, thrown in there, there were clues to the fact that Tommy always knew more than he was letting on. He understood people on a much deeper level than Ranboo was capable of, despite his training and all his games. He was odd in a way that sometimes didn’t feel entirely human.
It was the first time that he realized that Cleric was like that too.
Of course, knowing that he couldn’t help indulging his curiosity at least a little bit. He’d resisted the allure of power earlier, he deserved a treat for it.
> And who do you think Rogue killed?
Cleric gave him a deadpan look at that question that didn’t promise anything good. “Would be easier to figure out who he hasn’t killed in my opinion. He reminds me of Wil, but far more miserable about it. He’s like a blood-stained plushie who’s already going through his seventeenth round of laundry. You know what I mean?”. As it so often happened, Ranboo did not know, nor did he want to. He was happy to remain blissfully unaware.
The only thing he understood was that Cleric was comparing his sweet boy to Wilbur Soot of all people, and he resented that immensely.
> And who do you think Sorcerer killed?
He finally asked, finishing off the last of the prompts.
Cleric shrugged. “Doubt he’d care enough to remember that, the bastard” he stated simply. For once, the two of them were on the same page. It was nice to know that shitting on Sorcerer was still an activity that could unite everyone.
Notes:
I'm curious to know which dialogue option you guys would have chosen. I got 3 different answers so far when I asked, and I do find it pretty interesting!
Chapter 18: The Citadel
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
More than a town, the next stop of their journey resembled a nether bastion from the outside. Inside, it was a different story, however. There was a huge temple smack dab in the middle of it, high enough that it towered above the small wooden huts organized in concentric circles around it. Most of the materials used for the buildings inside didn’t match the menacing outer appearance. The small houses were made of mud bricks and wooden beams, with bamboo roofs. The temple stood out from it all, a white and gold jewel left among all the filth. The look of it was somewhat jarring. It stunk of privilege.
Ranboo was only able to catch a small glimpse of the imposing facade that the town put on. The walls that protected the small citadel stood at about half the height of the pristine marble house of whatever God they worshiped there, still dwarfing any other structure inside of them, however. They were made mostly of blackstone bricks and metal bars, and had been topped off with a pattern of yellow and black concrete, reminiscent of some of the old pictures Ranboo had seen from when his two best friends used to be in the L’Manburg military. It was the only similarity between the two places as far as he could recall, however, so imagine his confusion when Rogue woke up in a cold sweat, eyes huge, and skin suddenly sickly pale, muttering something about sins as he stared fearfully outside of the small windows of the train.
Keeping in mind Cleric’s words from their one-on-one conversation, Ranboo would have understood if the youngest of them had some guilt related to L’Manburg. If he truly had committed a massacre there, be it even as a result of his Wilbur dragging him into war, then his conscience must have been weighing heavily on him. He was a Tommy after all. And not one like Sorcerer who could only be classified as one in the loosest sense of the word. They all had big hearts.
But to have that strong of a reaction to a place he didn’t know? That didn’t feel right.
Thankfully, while the universe didn’t allow Ranboo to voice any of his concerns, Bard did it for him. He started up a conversation with a very fitting question and an appropriately comical strum of his creepy ass guitar: “You look like you saw a ghost… why’s that?”. How he managed to sing even words that had no musicality to them made no sense to Ranboo. Not like there was anything else about that undead version of his best friend that did.
At least he was able to speak now.
The jury was still out on whether that would be a good thing in the long term or not.
Ranboo was sure that it would eventually get on his nerves. He wondered if the universe would let him snap when the time came, or if he’d be stuck playing nice. Would it end up irritating him enough to try and go back to before he’d recruited the guy and just leave town without him? Considering the fact that he hadn’t done so with Sorcerer, he doubted it a little bit, but he couldn’t be sure either way.
Rogue’s eyes didn’t leave the temple for even a second as he answered in a trembling voice: “That’s the monastery…”. And that’s what made it click.
There was no forgetting the harrowing details about his past that Rogue had revealed in that vault.
Before that world, before L’Manburg, there was one place he’d belonged to. One place that he’d called home. And it clearly hadn’t been a good one if Rogue, with as clueless as he seemed to be about his traumas, dreaded it to that extent.
Now, Ranboo doubted that the citadel was an actual replica of the monastery. Sure, it may have resembled it, but one look at the common folk going about their day in the streets revealed that they were no priests. They didn’t wear a uniform, their haircuts weren’t homogeneous, and there were no obvious holy symbols either tattooed on their flesh or embroidered in their clothes. They were all normal everyday people, albeit a bit more on edge than he’d expected. He could see some kids peeking out from the windows of the houses facing the train tracks, but none out playing on the streets, and the only adults out and about were the ones busy running errands or working. So, there was still something off about that place, but he doubted it was a cult thing. Well, maybe it was, just not the one Rogue had been involved with.
However, the mere fact that the citadel resembled Rogue’s monastery so closely did bring forth the amusing realization that his Wilbur must have been the least original of them all. He stole the structure of his nation, impersonated a god, lured away one of Prime’s disciples, and on top of that all, he also copied the design of their walls. Ranboo hoped that man hadn’t been touted as a genius like his had, because that would have been the biggest disappointment in history for all those who looked up to him, since he was unsure the guy was capable of thinking for himself at all.
In his first ever attempt at offering some reassurance, Sorcerer patted Rogue’s shoulder. “There are no gods here” he stated matter-of-factly. “Not yet at least” he added after a moment, cryptic as usual. Ranboo couldn’t tell if he’d just dropped a piece of lore about the world or if he was just messing with them. He was inclined to believe the latter because of his ever-present shit-eating grin, but he couldn’t be entirely certain since that was what his face looked like most of the time. He was born to be a punching bag and stuck being an annoying prick.
His words did help soothe Rogue’s nerves a little at least.
The kid’s shoulders slumped down in relief. His eyes still didn’t leave the temple until they entered the station and it went out of view, but Ranboo still counted it as a small victory.
The station wasn’t anywhere near as impressive as the two they’d been at so far. The only things that elevated it as slightly above the huts outside were the polished stone pavement, and the metal beams holding up the ceiling. And, not having been inside any of the other buildings, Ranboo couldn’t even tell if they were all like that or if that one was actually special.
Getting off the train was a whole ordeal. Rogue was hesitant to step foot in that town, even without the threat of judgment falling upon him, the place still gave him bad vibes. Sorcerer made a scene about wanting Cleric to carry him, insisting that he’d gained a love for men in skirts during that short ride, however, Ranboo was more than certain that he was just still embarrassed about tripping and rolling out of their carriage earlier. And Bard was struggling to stand, he was trying to use his guitar as a walking stick, but with everyone piled up outside their compartment, the corridor was too cramped for that to be effective.
It felt as if Ranboo was leading a bunch of preschoolers on their first ever field trip.
Eventually, he managed to sort out the situation. He tried picking Sorcerer up himself since Cleric refused to do so until the other asked politely, but that only fucked up his back because he’d never had any upper-body strength and that masked twink was a lot heavier than he had first assumed. His pained whimpers melted their healer’s momentarily frozen heart, at least, so he used his visible arms to pick him up and cradle him to his chest, and the invisible ones for the most annoying member of their party. Seeing that scene, Rogue decided that they needed protection and found the resolve to rush ahead to scout out the area for any danger, which only bruised Ranboo’s ego a little bit. And with all of them getting a move on, Bard finally had the space he needed to move.
For as loudly as Sorcerer claimed otherwise, the only victim in that whole ordeal ended up being Ranboo’s pride. It wasn’t the worst outcome they could have had, but he still wished he could have erased those embarrassing memories. Unfortunately, if he went back to his last save point, he would have needed to repeat the whole train ride, and that felt like an excessively pointless waste of time and power to truly consider it as an option.
Right out of the station, Ranboo scanned the winding streets for a familiar mop of pink hair with no luck. He did spot her stand, although it was sadly devoid of soups. He would have had no qualms with stealing a few had that not been the case. The sign above it, however, did indicate that it was the right stall. It read ‘Ocean Wares’ and there was a cute little blue axolotl drawn next to it, smiling brightly and hugging a bowl of greenish-brown soup with its whole tiny body.
Already feeling Sorcerer’s discontent mounting, he approached the stall and investigated it. There were no quickly scribbled notes left there announcing that a quick escape had been needed to escape those damn tax collectors, and all of her tools looked to be there, so he doubted she’d been robbed either. All the ingredients needed to cook her infamous soup- a few different flowers, a jug of water, some rock salt that rested on top of of a cheese grater, and a few small glass vials filled with differently-colored liquids all labeled ‘secret sauce’- had been laid out next to a cauldron, as if she’d been about to get to work whipping something up when she disappeared.
Ranboo couldn’t imagine Lizzie leaving all of her goods unattended, especially not after she’d just gotten robbed in Tumble Town. So, that was likely a call to action. Another mystery for them to solve. And he could play hero and answer the call to adventure, drag his whole party into a treasure hunt for the ages. He probably would have, had he considered the fish lady a friend. Thankfully, he hadn’t spent enough time with her to grow attached, and they’d wasted enough time already on pointless quests.
He gave himself a moment to grieve the loss of whatever reward he would have gotten by retrieving and delivering to her the Codfather egg, and then pressed the green cross icon floating above the cauldron, prompting Cleric to spring into action and walk closer. Their healer was a great cook, and Ranboo was hoping that he could figure out what to do with just the raw ingredients.
Of course, things couldn’t just be that easy.
A dice with twenty sides appeared in front of his eyes. Knowing what to do now that he’d already experienced that event once, he pushed it with all of his might. It landed on a two. All his hopes were crushed when the only thing that appeared after was a ‘plus zero’ and the announcement that the intelligence check had failed. He should have known that would happen since Cleric was the one standing there and he had proven more than once that he was only clever when it came to reading those around him, but he was still disheartened nonetheless.
Cleric gave a cursory glance at the ingredient, then at the cauldron, and, finally, turned back toward Ranboo and shrugged. “This stuff is whack, who makes a soup with flowers?” he questioned, as if those were the oddest ingredient there and not the weird vials that emitted their own light and could probably turn someone into a toad if not handled properly. “Pretty sure a couple of those are poisonous too”.
It was surprising he hazarded such a guess when just the day prior he’d failed to recognize wheat seeds for what they were. Ranboo didn’t know the level of toxicity of any plant either, he couldn’t pretend to be an all-knowing genius on that front- or any front- really. However, he also wouldn’t have tried to guess even if he’d been able to speak freely because he knew how to avoid looking like a fool.
Luckily for Cleric, Rogue felt magnanimous. He leaned over the stall and peered at the flowers, before nodding. “Yeah, the Lily of the Valley is highly toxic. Even deadly in certain instances. Gives you cardiac issues if you eat it”. Ranboo remembered seeing those flowers growing all over New L’Manburg. And he also recalled the rumors he’d heard that Schlatt, the dictator who had made Tubbo’s life Hell for four years, had been poisoned by his cabinet. It was just gossip. Unsubstantiated accusations disproved by the fact that he’d died of a heart attack. Something that made perfect sense considering the fact that he was both a heavy drinker and also habitually made use of performance enhancing drugs. Or so he thought until that very moment… That was a secret he would be bringing to his grave. Right after asking his Tubbo if he was the one who did, as soon as he returned home. “Dandelion is fine in moderation, but it’s one of the easiest plants to go overboard with. And they’re gonna make you shit hard if you do exaggerate. They’re far from forgiving. Azure Bluet also induces nausea and diarrhea, and you can give someone blindness if you cook it correctly. Oxeye Daisy is fine though. That one is neat in salads. And kids like it because it looks pretty cute, it’s great to get them eating healthy”.
Ranboo was impressed by Rogue’s encyclopedic knowledge on the matter.
He wondered if the guy was still going off of the dice roll he’d landed back in the vault… how much less would he have known had Ranboo failed him back then? Was that even the reason for his knowledge, or was it intrinsic to his background in the monastery? After all, he did mention that they were forced to be rather independent. Knowing what plants to steer clear of and what plants to pick up for a nice salad made sense for him.
Also, he was suddenly very glad they’d never eaten one of Lizzie’s soups. Was she trying to poison them?! One of those little fuckers that she gleefully sprinkled into her concoctions was literally deadly. And possibly had been used against disgraced President Schlatt to cause his timely demise. Allegedly. He wasn’t pointing any fingers, however, if those speculations ever came back he would be willing to testify that Quackity seemed like the exact kind of fellow who would be knowledgeable about botany. He didn’t have anything in particular against the guy, but he had the unlucky trait of being naturally very untrustworthy since he ran a shady casino and was married to Dream’s former right-hand man, so he was a great scapegoat. And he always disliked Ranboo, so there was that.
Cleric curiously picked up one of the Oxeye Daisy Rogue had pointed at and popped it into his mouth. After a minute of chewing and consideration, he hummed approvingly and scooped all the ones there into a satchel he kept by his side, likely for some future meal.
Before Ranboo could start walking back to the train station, ready to move on to the next town, he came face to face with a pouty Sorcerer. His masked companion looked like a kicked puppy. He looked absolutely pathetic and about ready to keel over and die there and then. “We’re gonna rescue her and get that soup still, right?” he pleaded. He didn’t sound as if he was about to cry, and yet his eye, the visible one, was wet and his bottom lip was wobbly. It was clear as day that he was acting… and yet it still worked.
Perusing his dialogue options, Ranboo was surprised to find that he would have been allowed to shatter Sorcerer’s atrophied heart, but he knew going in that he was not willing to do so. For as annoying as he found his companion, he was a version of his best friend at the end of the day, and his puppy dog eyes still managed to worm their way into his cold dead heart like a charm.
> No, we’re leaving [May affect your party member’s trust lv]
> Yes, we’re staying [May affect your party member’s trust lv]
There was no silent option that time around, and only one correct answer.
> Yes, we’re staying
Predictably, his choice led to him gaining a few trust points with Sorcerer and a resigned sigh from Cleric and Rogue. Bard didn’t seem to be anywhere near as annoyed by their masked companion’s personal quest as the rest of them were. He even cheered with the other, strumming his guitar in celebration. Ranboo was certain that he would join them in their misery once he’d spent enough time chasing after the specters of food and having them always be just out of reach.
Left with no other choice, he turned his head to the obvious dungeon they would need to be facing. He’d played enough video games to know a suspiciously detailed and polished asset when he saw one. And there was only one place that seemed fit for a quest in the citadel: the temple.
Rogue seemingly came to the same conclusion just after him and started shaking in his boots. Ranboo gently took his hand to reassure him that he wouldn’t be alone. Whatever demons he was running from, they’d be facing them together. If he had any say in the matter, he would make sure that his sweet boy would never be left alone and terrified ever again. He’d been through enough.
A small text bubble informed him that his act of kindness had increased Rogue’s trust level a little. And, with that good omen, he started leading his party to the house of God.
Notes:
I know this chapter was shorter than usual, however, I'm a big believer of just limiting myself to what I need to convey. I hope you guys enjoyed it regardless!
Chapter 19: The Temple
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Up close, the temple was blinding. Looking at it up close as the midday sun rained its light down upon it felt like a foolish choice when even just catching a glance of it from afar hurt Ranboo’s eyes. And yet, he had to if he wanted to know what waited for him up ahead.
The base structure of the temple was rectangular, although every side was broken up by a circular structure jutting out of it. He didn’t know if those counted as towers when they only stood as tall as the rest of the outer layer. However, there was a hexagonal structure in the center that elevated itself above the rest, both in height and in fanciness, what with its solid gold dome and the twelve grotesques that decorated the juncture of every corner of it with the roof. The faces of the horrible stone creatures were familiar. Ranboo had never gotten a chance to peer beyond XD’s mask, but he had a feeling that those were what he would find.
Rogue calmed down somewhat once they arrived near enough to the building to spot some of the finer details of it. Apparently, while the monastery he grew up in was similar in opulence and structure, there were enough differences between them that he could separate them in his mind with some effort. The kid didn’t let go of Ranboo’s hand when he realized that, and he didn’t let go of his either.
They weren’t especially close yet, but Ranboo wasn’t cruel enough to deny one of his teammates of the comfort they so clearly needed.
Even if that teammate had been Sorcerer, he would have done his best to help. Although he had the feeling that his first-ever party member would scoff at his sympathy, and probably call him gay and march on as if nothing ever happened.
Case in point, Sorcerer did start fidgeting and looking uneasy once they approached the temple, and Cleric noticed as much and tried to ask him what was wrong. Only for his concern to be called stupid and thrown back at his face as if it was a sign of weakness and an invitation for endless mockery. Thankfully, their healer had the patience of a saint and he resisted the urge to slap the guy he wasted his worry on. Ranboo wouldn’t have been so strong.
Neither Bard nor Cleric seemed perturbed by the religious setting at least. After seeing his other two party members grow so nervous at the idea of venturing in, Ranboo had started wondering if there was a core piece of Tommy’s lore that he’d been missing all that time. If there was something his best friend had been hiding from him for some reason, it would make him reevaluate how good of a leader he thought he was.
But, if such a secret existed, he apparently had a fifty-fifty chance of it not being related to some kind of religious trauma.
Which was a good thing, because Ranboo hadn’t once believed in any superior powers, not even when faced directly with them, so he wouldn’t have known how to relate to Tommy’s pain, nor how to soothe it. And after having built such a good track record of being a safe space for both of his dearest friends to confide and find solace in, he would have hated breaking their shared heart.
The temple was highly guarded. There weren’t priests and priestesses standing outside its gilded doors either, instead, there were two guards decked out in netherite armor. It was clear that fighting their way in wasn’t an option in their current state. Even if they were lucky and found that those guys didn’t know any spells themselves, one single swing of their heavily enchanted swords would have been the end for any one of them. Especially for Ranboo himself as the only thing he had to defend himself with was a stick. And it wasn’t even a sturdy piece of wood.
And they weren’t even lucky because the universe fucking hated Ranboo Underscore Beloved Innit. He figured out as much with a quick check of each of their stats.
G01. Class: Paladin
HP: 150
ATK: 30
DEF: 20
State:
Wants to prove his worth in battle to impress G02
The first one already sounded dangerous (and vaguely homoerotic), especially because he was pretty certain that all the hit points of his party combined would not have reached his. And then the second one was just an ulterior slap in the face.
G02. Class: Monk
HP: 150
ATK: 30
DEF: 20
State:
Can’t wait to show his battle expertise off to G01
They were both tanks and both bloodthirsty. Brute forcing his way in would have meant leading his party to their slaughter. And he wasn’t even certain he could bring them back from the dead yet. So he only approached the two guards to take a quick picture with his camera as if he’d been a confused tourist, and then quickly walked away gesturing for his teammates to follow him.
Deprived of his preferred option, Ranboo was left meandering outside of the temple for a good while. One lap around the building wasted quite a bit of his time, it would have been enough for him to concoct a plan usually, but his mind was blank.
They had almost completed their walk around the structure when Bard spoke up. Or, well, sung up. Because he was still a weirdo that operated on musical logic. “Let me cast shadows over us my liege… Let us Pass without Trace, it’s not an easy feat, but it’s one I can… commit?” his attempts at a pun and a rhyme were pitiful, and, from the way he was cringing, he was well aware of that.
Still, despite his unusual way of conveying ideas, Ranboo did appreciate his input. It was always fascinating to see how aware his companions were of the abilities they’d gained by being dragged over to that new world. It could have been a hint to the fact that they’d all been there longer than him, or maybe it just indicated that they’d been filled in once they arrived instead of being left on a grassy field like him. Regardless of the reason for it, he was grateful for how knowledgeable they all were. Taking educated guesses at what their spells did all the time could get exhausting. And it was dangerous sometimes when he found himself ignorant during battles. Getting small insights into some of them during less stressful situations was nice.
Right as he was about to click on the purple guitar icon that appeared over their group and let Bard proceed with his plan, Sorcerer spoke up as well. “I could just as easily distract them with one of my Minor Illusions. And that one’s a cantrip, so we wouldn’t be wasting a spell that we may need later”. It was unusual for him to be so helpful, and Ranboo got the impression that he said something with the sole intent of being able to boast about his powers. The smug grin that twisted his lips sure seemed to point to that.
Irritating as he may be, he did bring up a valid point though.
Bard had stressed the fact that ‘Pass without Trace’ wasn’t something easy for him to perform. Which he assumed meant it was a higher-tier spell. And maybe they would need to go unseen later on. If there were such powerful guards stationed outside the temple he couldn’t imagine there being none on the inside.
So, when a red icon shaped like a drop of blood appeared right next to the guitar one, he started inching toward that one instead. Only to be once again interrupted, this time by Rogue. “I can see a window unlocked up there on the second floor” Ranboo’s eyes followed where he was pointing, and he spotted the window as well. It was a plain one, not one made of intricate stained glass patterns like one may have assumed from such a place. And, because of its simplicity, it was easy to see that the room on the other side was dark, meaning there likely was nobody inside. So, sneaking in through there shouldn’t have been too difficult. “I could climb up and then sneak to one of the windows on the ground floor and open it up for you guys. It may be a safer option than relying on those guards being easy to distract for long enough for all of us to get past them”. His thinly-veiled insult at Sorcerer’s plan was picked up on both by Ranboo and by their masked companion and it earned him an offended squawk. And Rogue proved that he very much was still a Tommy because he gave Sorcerer his best shit-eating grin as a response.
Those two always got along like oil and water.
Although it was admittedly nice seeing Rogue finally be comfortable enough with the rest of them to throw some jabs out. Getting to that point hadn’t been easy. And Ranboo wondered if part of his newfound confidence was due to the fact that they’d proven to him beyond a shadow of a doubt that they wouldn’t leave him behind. He was free to share his opinions and they would love him all the same.
It reminded him of the early days with his Tommy and Tubbo. How closed off both of them had been, used as they were to everyone else trying to pit them against one another, only ever appreciating one half of their whole. People struggled to see them as individuals, and they struggled even more to acknowledge them as a unit. Their being soulmates had been an open secret, and yet, with those being so rare, nobody knew how to handle it, so they preferred ignoring that fact altogether.
And then Ranboo had arrived. And he hadn’t been perfect. He hadn’t stood up for Tommy when he should have. He hadn’t supported Tubbo during his presidency as much as he needed him to. He hadn’t rescued Tommy from his miserable conditions in Logstedshire. And he hadn’t stood by Tubbo’s side as his country was blown up to smithereens. But, unlike everyone else, he hadn’t given up after fucking things up a few times. He stuck around and he kept trying. And, eventually, he’d started to take initiative. He took an interest in Tubbo’s experiments and let him rant to him about science as much as his heart desired. He took Tommy’s side when he stumbled out of the prison, one life down and one regained in unnatural ways and hadn’t left him since. He came to appreciate them equally and never tried to keep them separate, he never insinuated that one was just a side-effect of owning the other as so many adults had before him. He just let them be and loved them, and they remembered through that love that they belonged together and decided that he belonged with them just as much.
Of course, he didn’t know if Rogue had a soulmate he desperately needed to reconnect with. But, even without sharing that element of his Tommy’s story, it was clear that he’d never been loved just for himself. Either that or he never noticed that he was.
And maybe that recognition was all he needed too.
So, once again, when the icon of a black knife appeared next to the other two, Ranboo was inclined to go with that one instead. He couldn’t lose the opportunity to show Rogue that he valued him as a teammate. His precious boy deserved that and more.
And yet, like every other time before, his choice was interrupted by another proposition. “I could just talk to those guards. I can easily convince them to let us through” Cleric chipped in, clearly bragging. Ranboo had no clue of where all that confidence could possibly come from when he’d very recently fucked up making soup, which was supposed to be one of his strong suits as a cook.
The likelihood of his failure was much higher than that of his success. And Ranboo knew that, if they went with his plan, they would end up in a fight they couldn’t win. The two most logical options were Sorcerer’s and Rogue’s plans. They were well-thought-out, simple, and effective. But, like the curious bitch that he was, when that green cross icon appeared he couldn’t resist. He reasoned that, even if Cleric failed, he could bring them all back to his last save point in front of the building before any swords started swinging, he would just need to be ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice, and he was confident in his ability to do that.
He indicated his choice to the rest of the party by turning toward Cleric and gesturing for him to go ahead. A text bubble popped up to let him know that his party members would remember that, not like he needed it. He could see it for himself from Sorcerer's pout, Bard’s confusion, and Rogue’s slight relief. The latter was the only unexpected reaction he received. He’d expected some disappointment from his sweet boy, but maybe he hadn’t been as eager as he seemed to be in the building that had triggered his trauma earlier all by himself. Ranboo could have figured out that that was the case a lot earlier if he’d reflected on it a bit longer instead of getting lost down memory lane…
Before their healer could happily waltz off toward certain doom, a dice with twenty sides appeared once more in front of Ranboo. Knowing how his last throw went, he braced himself for disappointment as he pushed the dice… only for it to land on a nineteen. A ‘plus two’ sign popped up right after. He wasn’t told whether the check was a success or not, only that it had been used to check Cleric’s persuasion skills, but with numbers like that, he could take an educated guess.
Cleric bounced up to the two guards with a pep in his steps. Ranboo thought that he would distract them in some way. He figured that maybe the guy had noticed the homoerotic tension between them and would eagerly point it out and push them to start what would undoubtedly end up as an intense whirlwind romance for the ages. He even considered the possibility of his teammate posing as a new hire that needed to be shown around, or as a cadet coming over to tell them that their boss wanted them somewhere else stat and that he would be taking over the guard duties for the time being. He did none of that. Instead, he smiled sweetly and innocently up at them. Cleric was by no means short, he was of average height for a Tommy, unlike, say, Rogue who was a bit taller than the rest of them and Sorcerer who only managed to stand shoulder to shoulder with them thanks to his high heels, but he purposefully hunched over his back to make himself appear small and defenseless and let the two guards tower over him. That whole act would have worked even better if he wasn’t unusually buff for a Tommy, though his frilly dress mixed in with the priest garbs he wore managed to hide that fact quite well.
“Me and my friends walked all the way here from so far to see the temple. Would it be possible? I promise we’ll keep the visit brief and respectful” his voice was thick as honey and just as sickly sweet. It reminded Ranboo of that peculiar way Dream had of talking to Tommy. It sent shivers down his spine. And he noticed the way Bard recoiled at it as well. The two guards exchanged a glance. And, for a moment, it looked as if they would shoot the request down. Picking up on that, Cleric doubled down on the sweetness. “I’m sure two big strong men like you would have no issue getting rid of us if we created any issues at all”. Then he leaned in closer to G01 and lowered his voice, although not enough that the rest of them couldn’t hear him, and added: “It would give you a chance to prove your worth to him either way. Either with your battle prowess or with your outstanding judgment of character”.
That did the trick.
G01 glanced over at them, pretending to need some more time to make his decision, but from the eager way he was bouncing on the heels of his feet, it was obvious that he’d already made up his mind. And G02’s fond glance was enough to tell that he would let him do whatever he wanted.
The only one who got checked for weapons was Ranboo. And they only got as far as his fighting stick before deciding that they were no threat at all.
Overall, Ranboo was impressed and a little terrified now that he’d discovered Cleric’s manipulative side. It was another reminder of the fact that their healer could probably wipe them all out if he decided. Well… maybe not Sorcerer. That guy seemed to remain unaffected by most things. If whatever poison had been used on them in that orphanage and in the Bandit’s den couldn’t knock him out maybe he was tanky enough to avoid being snapped over Cleric’s knee like the twig that he was too. The rest of them were absolutely screwed if the guy ever turned to the evil side though.
Bard, either having read Ranboo’s mind or having independently reached the same conclusion, strummed his guitar and hummed: “Remind me to never piss him off… I don’t fancy being exiled… again…”. On top of being extremely relatable, his comment also hinted toward the fact that his lived experiences probably aligned with those of Ranboo’s Tommy more than Cleric’s or Sorcerer’s did. Which meant that he somewhat matched Rogue in that aspect.
Did that mean that their version of events was the most common?
Or was it just a pure coincidence that, so far, the majority of the party came from a very similar background, with only a few different details?
Was that a clue toward what whoever brought them there was looking for?
Or was he jumping to conclusions too quickly based on the fact that Bard had been exiled and knew what L’Manburg was? He could have been reading too much into it. Unfortunately, he wasn’t given a chance to respond and investigate further, so, for the time being, his assumptions were all he had.
As he had done a few times before with pieces of information that he couldn’t quite fit into the greater narrative of that video game-like world yet, he noted that line down and stashed it away in the back of his mind to come back to once he had more pieces of the puzzle.
He did so just in time too, because a familiar face blocked their path. A Tommy, older than he was used to, and shorter and angrier as well, blocked their path. One of his hands was resting on the hilt of his longsword, the other was digging into the leather armor covering his side. From the get-go, Ranboo didn’t like him. He looked like he had a stick up his ass but desperately wanted to act as if he was just a peasant like the rest of them… minus Sorcerer who was just as spoiled. As if that wasn’t enough to justify his visceral distaste for the guy, he had a feeling that he’d be a major headache if he were to stick around. He never thought himself capable of despising someone at first sight, let alone a version of one of his best friends, and yet he could confidently say that the other managed to bring out the hater in him without even needing to open his mouth.
“I know your kind. Don’t think I’m gonna let you continue your operations here undisturbed. Surrender now, or I will make sure you’ll see justice” the newcomer exclaimed as he unsheathed his sword in a practiced manner that spoke of experience on the battlefield.
Yep, definitely a pain in the ass.
Notes:
Would you look at that! It's another wild Tommy encounter!
Although this one is the first proper hostile one. I wonder if Ranboo will make good use of what Sorcerer taught him all the way back at the start... when he was beating his ass with abandon.
Chapter 20: The Misguided Paladin
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Ranboo realized quickly that there was no fleeing the fight.
His feet were rooted in place, and trying to take a step in any direction yielded him no results. And, even if he had managed to move, his teammates were all already engaged. Rogue was looking around for alternative routes he could use to get out of sight of the newcomer and take him by surprise. Cleric was muttering some prayers to his kids under his breath. Sorcerer was leaning against the wall like the sadistic fucker that he was. And Bard had a firm hold on his guitar, ready to pull it up and play if need be. Convincing them that escaping was the better option seeing as their opponent looked like bad news would take longer than winning the fight hopefully would.
Resigned, he perused his options.
Much like in the fight against Sorcerer all the way back at the beginning, he was given the chance to fight, or four non-violent alternatives:
> Check
> Tease
> Talk
> Debate
It had been a while since that encounter took place, but the peaceful options felt different from what he remembered. There was a lot less playfulness to them. Although they were still a bit more diverse than what he would get when fighting minor NPCs, as usually he only got the chance to talk to them or check their stats.
In this case, he didn’t much care for peace. He wanted to kick his opponent’s ass. He didn’t know what the guy’s issue was with them, maybe the fact that they’d encroached into holy territory with deceitful means, he knew his Tommy had been quite religious at a certain point of his life, and Rogue was too, so maybe it was somewhat of a trend. Regardless, he didn’t care.
For once in his life, he hadn’t earned the hostility and he fully intended on paying it back tenfold, just like Techno would have.
However, he knew that if he wanted to win the battle it was fundamental for him to know his opponent. So, before any of the ass-kicking could start, there was one thing he needed to do.
> Check
A box with a few pieces of information popped up in front of him, blocking his field of view for a few moments. Yet another annoyance he would gladly blame on the Tommy in front of him who, for the time being, he decided to nickname ‘Fake’, because there was no way any real version of his best friend would be such a prick. Maybe he didn’t have a version of Ranboo in his own universe, or maybe he had figured out that he was somewhere else where those he once knew didn’t exist, but, whatever the explanation was, it just felt out of character.
Tommy Innit (Prime). Class: Paladin
HP: 11
ATK: 15
DEF: 10
State:
He’s filled with righteous fury
Those stats were not what he had expected, especially after meeting those guards from earlier.
How could the newcomer be so confident in his abilities when he was objectively kinda weak? One good attack could put him out of commission. Ranboo assumed so, at least. Truth be told, as he hadn’t found himself fighting any of his allies besides Sorcerer whose details were concealed anyway, he hadn’t thought to check them. He didn’t know how much better they were faring if at all. Even if they turned out to be weaker, however, they were still five people against one.
For a fleeting moment, he pitied his adversary.
Then Fake puffed up his chest and took a step forward, cockiness and arrogance oozing off of him in waves. He reminded Ranboo a bit of Sorcerer but with none of his charm. And the fact that the guy made him admit if only in his mind that he found his first party member somewhat charming at times was yet another valid reason to hate him. He wondered how long that list would get. “Too afraid to fight?” the guy taunted. “I knew that your ilk were all cowards”.
Seriously, what was his issue with Ranboo? Or was his problem with the other Tommys instead? Was that a show of self-hatred?
Deciding he didn’t have the time to ponder all that, he called Bard forth and puppeted him into launching a Vicious Mockery attack against their opponent. From his understanding so far, his teammates had endless access to cantrips, while they were limited on the number of spells they could use. He wasn’t sure how long it took for their magic to replenish, but since he doubted that the random guy they found by the entrance would be the ultimate boss of that dungeon, he knew he wanted to use them sparingly. So going with something that was somewhat weaker but could still chip away at the opponent’s health felt like the best course of action for him to take at the moment.
Bard gleefully picked up his guitar and strummed a couple of cords on it, catching the attention of their opponent. “You look like you have mommy issues” he sang. Very concise, and yet very effective.
A text bubble informed Ranboo that their opponent had failed his saving throw, whatever that meant. And moment after, the guy was frowning. There was no visible injury on him, so it was hard to tell how effective the attack had been, but he supposed that’s what he got for going with the ‘slowly sapping away at his life force’ strategy. And for starting with a petty playground insult. Well, that last part was on Bard, he didn’t choose what to make him say after all.
Rogue was up next. Ranboo compelled him to fight, and Rogue pulled out his rapier, a long thin sword that looked more practical for stabbing than slashing, which he must have had all along because he didn’t remember buying it for him, and rushed forward. Unfortunately, his hit was parried by their opponent, and he was pushed back against one of the walls, out of the way and momentarily incapacitated if the sound his head made when it smacked against the wall was anything to go by.
By then, what had seemed like an easy victory, was starting to look far trickier.
Ranboo’s initial assumption that this was not their enemy’s first battle must have been correct. He was yet another Tommy in the long list of child soldiers out in the Multiverse. Or maybe, since he was quite a bit older, he’d managed to postpone that miserable fate long enough. Maybe his Wilbur had waited to indoctrinate him with his whimsical propaganda until he was older. Maybe the man had shown some restraint and proven that he too could sometimes be responsible. It was unlikely, but the hope was there.
And he gripped tightly onto it, because if he started sympathizing with his enemy due to the narrative he was creating in his own mind, then there would be no chance of victory for them.
Cleric was next and, since his cantrips weren’t all too useful, he sent him in to apply Resistance to Rogue. The youngest of them was the closest to their opponent, and since he still looked somewhat disoriented from the counterattack, he could have used an extra layer of protection. Thankfully, their healer didn’t have to get any closer to the danger himself to do so, as his invisible arms were longer than his fleshy ones, and worked just as well to conduct magic.
After a moment, a shimmering shield appeared around Rogue. It wasn’t the sturdiest by any means. But it was supposed to help, and Ranboo could only hope that it would be enough.
At long last, Sorcerer’s turn came too, and he was elated at the prospect of being able to use his favorite cantrip, Poison Spray, once more. He hadn’t said as much, but the long look he gave Ranboo made it obvious enough. He just loved making people suffer with his horrid red mist.
As someone who had been at the receiving end of it, Ranboo didn’t envy their opponent.
Once again, he was alerted that Fake had failed his saving throw, which left him no less confused than before. Regardless, what that meant effectively, was that when the cloud of red mist approached him, he had nowhere to escape and was entirely enveloped in it. Once it dissipated, he was on his knees on the floor coughing up blood, his eyes had become swollen, tears were cascading down his cheeks, and he was grasping at his throat.
No matter how annoying Ranboo found him, that view was pathetic and sad. Objectively.
The misery of the situation only continued, as it was their opponent’s turn and he couldn’t even stand up.
Ranboo was once again given the choice between fight and peace, and, this time, he chose the merciful path. There was no point in mocking someone already down on their luck, despite what Sorcerer seemed to think. So he tried to offer an olive branch the only way he could.
> Talk
Instead of words he had no control over bursting through his lips, he was given a list of options. An unusual occurrence for fights. During those, his control over his actions tended to be even more limited than it already was the rest of the time. His companions too were in a similar predicament. Usually, they were free to move and speak independently unlike Ranboo, and he envied that. He would have been lying if he said that he didn’t miss his freedom. However, the downside of that was that they had no input over what they did in battle. An interesting twist of fate considering the fact that he was the least experienced of them all when it came to fighting.
He hadn’t taken part in any major wars nor any official duels.
The closest he’d ever gotten to being a part of the action was when he took matters into his own hands and killed Dream. And there wasn’t much he’d learned from that. It had been a trap. One he’d gotten the time to think through thoroughly and lay out however he pleased. And the result of it was a brutal execution that nobody witnessed and could give him pointers on. He hadn’t gained anything from it, aside from some peace of mind for himself and his best friends. Especially his Tommy, but not only as Tubbo’s life had been threatened by the green man also.
Among their party, he was the least qualified to make decisions.
And that’s how he’d been feeling at home for a long time too. Because, while he’d been clever enough to breach Tommy’s and Tubbo’s defenses and worm his way into their hearts, he had still believed himself to be underneath them for months. Tubbo was far cleverer than him in all scientific fields, and Tommy, meanwhile, was a natural-born strategist, he was observant and street-smart. And the truth of the matter was that they’d never really needed him. It took time for him to carve his own nook in their dynamic. To establish his role as the one who called the shots when it came to all interpersonal matters. Because, ultimately, being everyone’s friend was his best skill.
It was a bit embarrassing that his irritation had made him forget that when it came to Fake.
Focused once more, he quickly read through the dialogue prompts he’d been provided with.
> Why did you try to attack us?
> Who are you?
> Are you a member of this Temple?
> Have you seen the Ocean Queen?
> Will you surrender if I spare you now?
> Oof, spitting blood cannot be a good sign. Maybe you should go get checked by a doctor instead of playing hero… [May affect Tommy Innit (Prime)’s trust lv]
> … [Exit Dialogue]
The fact that one of the options given to him had the ability to influence Fake’s trust level gave him pause. Because that had never been the case with other enemies he’d defeated in that world. The only ones whose trust level could be increased were his teammates and Lizzie. And he imagined that to be the case for the latter only because she was the only recurring side character so far and he could not see a way for the new Tommy to become one of those. He lacked the charm for it. And he wasn’t a traveling merchant that the game maker could easily find excuses to shove in every town they visited, he was just a guy. Possibly a cult member.
Another memory from that first encounter with Sorcerer floated to the forefront of his mind then: “You’ll often have to fight to add members to your party”. Was that what had just happened? Was that what he had been inadvertently fighting for? Because that was not what he wanted! Sure, he was starting to regret being so violent from the get-go when maybe he could have talked things out and cleared whatever misunderstanding was happening between them or lied if the truth didn’t suit him, but that didn’t mean that he wanted to keep the guy!
Five people were plenty for a party. They didn’t need more.
Hopefully, by avoiding that specific dialogue option he could escape that awful fate.
Not to be dramatic, of course.
Keeping that in mind, he went for the question that interested him the most.
> Why did you try to attack us?
The unknown Tommy was still struggling for breath between the incessant coughing and the snot now flowing freely from his nose. Out of the corner of his eye, Ranboo could see Sorcerer’s smug expression at that fact. He was proud of himself and, for once, Ranboo shared that sentiment.
While their now-defeated opponent took his time to compose himself, Ranboo quickly threw a glance at Rogue to see how he was doing after that hit. He found the teen still slumped on the ground, probably in need of some healing. There was no blood that he could see either on him or on the wall, but that didn’t exclude the possibility of a concussion, and he couldn’t help but worry about the prospect. It shouldn’t have been deadly, but he didn’t know what he would have done if it turned out to be. He still wasn’t sure whether traveling back in time as he apparently was capable of doing would drag all of his party back with him or not. There was no way for him to know if he could bring them back to life.
He wished that Rogue had access to some long-range spells as well. Because had it been up to him, he would have never willfully sent him close to the danger. But there weren’t many other actions he could have taken after he’d chosen to fight.
Maybe that was the universe’s way of telling him he’d picked wrong, but, if that was the case, he hoped the punishment wouldn’t be as severe as his panic-riddled mind was making it out to be.
The rest of his teammates were faring quite well at least.
The pause in the coughing was what dragged his attention back to Fake. The sudden silence was eerie. For a moment, he thought the guy had just keeled over and died.
Thankfully, that wasn’t the case. He didn’t look too good but he was alive and still utterly pissed off. Although, his glare didn’t quite have the same effect now that his eyes were puffy, his face swollen, his skin all red and blotchy, and he was covered in various fluids. It would have been impressive that he managed to look so confident still after having been defeated so spectacularly if it wasn’t for the fact that he reminded Ranboo of Wilbur’s carelessness in the face of danger and of his own weaknesses. The comparison with that particular old man never flattered anybody.
“I know what you cultists have been doing to the people of this town, and I will not let you get away with it” his voice was scratchy from all the torture his throat had endured, and yet he still managed to inject a noticeable degree of spite into his tone.
A lot could be said about Fake, but not that he wasn’t one resilient motherfucker.
And an angry one at that.
That said, none of what he said made any sense. Ranboo’s confusion was mirrored on the faces of all of his teammates bar Rogue who wasn’t able to follow the conversation at the moment. Even Sorcerer took a moment out of his busy schedule, usually filled only with taunting, flirting, and mockery, to let out a: “What the fuck did you just call us?”. The needless swearing was very Tommy-like of him, how unusual.
Their fallen opponent seemed to think that their bewilderment was all an act at first from the way he made sure to give them all an unimpressed stare. Well, the best approximation of one he could manage in his current condition, at least. But, slowly, as their confusion persisted, the realization that it wasn’t all an act to hide their true identity for some weird ulterior motive dawned on him.
“Wait… are you guys for real not members of the Temple?” he asked, now matching their bafflement. Ranboo, as the self-appointed leader of the group, took things into his hands and nodded. He hadn’t been given any dialogue prompts, but he wasn’t sure he would have been able to summon the strength to speak even if he had. That entire situation was too absurd for words. “But you walked in from the front door! They don’t let visitors in, I had to smash my way through a wall myself!”.
Cleric was the one who came forward to provide him with the answers he was seeking, seeing as he’d been the one to earn them access to the building. “Maybe you just suck at convincing people, ever thought of that? ‘Cause all I had to do was butter up the guards and play wingman for them”. He was lacking all tact as usual. His voice was deadpan and calm, but not pleased with the Tommy in front of them.
The healer’s distaste for the other wasn’t all that surprising seeing as he’d hurt one of his, and, while he wasn’t the most conventionally warm and affectionate individual, he still cared a Hell of a lot for all of those he’d taken under his protection. All would be forgiven if the other joined their group like Ranboo feared, but, for the time being, he was nothing but an enemy there to be squashed under his boot. And probably T-posed over if he passed away, and no, he still wasn’t over the fact that Cleric had done that. More than once.
“Huh…” all of his previous arrogance left the new Tommy after that. His shoulders sagged, and he brought a hand up to massage his throat with an air of misery. A few beats of silence went by, with none of them moving from the positions the fight had assigned them. “I’ll…” Fake finally started up again. He took a moment to gulp down some air and steel his resolve once more before finishing. “I’ll just go to the town’s healer. If you guys aren’t done taking down this place by the time I’m feeling better then I’ll come back and show you how it’s done” he declared.
So… was leaving without taking down a whole corrupt system not an option unless they wanted that guy to tag along and nag them about it forevermore? What a bother…
As if to confirm that hypothesis, a text bubble appeared above him announcing that he’d just been assigned a new mission: ‘Objective Unlocked: Unveil the Fallen God’. With a name like that, the intentions of the game maker were crystal clear. And to go against them meant to lose out on all the progress he’d made thus far.
At that rate, he would soon receive a message telling him that he couldn’t just bail on the town once they were done and leave Fake in the hospital without notifying him of the state of their mission. After all, usually, he had to reconvene with the one who had assigned them the mission after completion.
His day could not get any worse.
At least the guy skedaddled out of there after that so they wouldn’t have to see him for a little while.
And Bard hurried over to heal Rogue with one of his cantrips right after. It was a success, and his precious boy quickly managed to blink back to awareness. That positive note almost offset the frustration from the encounter. If nothing else happened that day, he would be sufficiently content.
Notes:
I want to say that I specifically rolled for initiative to get the order of the fight, and then for every save throw/hit throw and damage. Bard's Vicious Mockery did 1HP of damage, and Sorcerer's Poison Spray did 8HP.
We're doing things properly in this house.
Chapter 21: The Crimson Egg
Notes:
Guys I'm so sorry, I promise I had this chapter ready on time (early in fact, I gave it to my wife and beta reader Thursday) but with how busy I've been I just forgot to post.
I hope you guys enjoy it even if it's a tad bit late!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Once they’d gotten past that weird, hostile Tommy, reaching the core of the temple was a breeze. The place was a bit of a labyrinth, however, Rogue seemed to be familiar with the layout. Not entirely, as that place wasn’t a one-to-one copy of the monastery from his childhood, but enough so that he could take the lead with a certain degree of confidence to Sorcerer’s displeasure.
Their masked teammate kept grumbling about how far they must have fallen if they were all so willing to take orders from a child, but Ranboo found it easy to ignore him, distracted as he still was from the earlier fight. Besides, Cleric was already dealing with him by jabbing an elbow hard in his stomach anytime his whining got a bit too loud and threatened to disrupt Rogue’s concentration. Pain always made Sorcerer go all quiet, although he did not give off the impression that he disliked it, which… probably had some further implications that none of them would ever be ready to unpack.
Least of all Ranboo.
He already had to put up with the guy’s obnoxious flirting; if self-discovery of any kind happened in that regard, he wasn’t certain he’d be able to handle it.
They reached the area labeled as the ‘Altar Room’, which was less of a room and more of an atrium and was lacking any traces of an altar ever having been present there, in less than twenty minutes. They’d encountered no guards on the way there, just a few closed doors which could be unlocked by solving very simple riddles. All around the central area where the sun shone on the priests and priestesses, there was a walkway covered in beautiful arches that connected to the building on one side and were held up by intricately decorated columns on the other. Focusing on those and on the idea of taking a leisurely stroll underneath them seemed so much more appealing than confronting the horror at the center of it all.
Unfortunately, Ranboo knew that he had a mission. If he hoped to get out of that inhospitable city without an annoyance tied to him, he had to see his objective to completion.
So, not without a great degree of reluctance, he turned to face the sight that stood before him.
Men and Women in red robes stood before a horrid mass of pulsating flesh that vaguely resembled an egg in shape. A being he was far too familiar with. In front of them were around ten people, all bound with burlap bags tied over their heads, either to hide their identities or discourage them from trying to run. Among the prisoners, he noticed that one had blue skin and, well… there was only one person he knew who matched that. Of all misfortunes she could incur, Lizzie had gotten herself kidnapped by a flesh-eating, mind-controlling weed. The universe truly never gave that woman a break.
Had Ranboo cared more about her, he would have felt sorry for her predicament.
As things were, however, he had more pressing matters to concern himself with.
The main one of them being that, from his experience infiltrating the Red Banquet back in his world and investigating the Crimson Egg in his free time, he’d discovered that the thing was impervious to almost all forms of damage. Perhaps that wasn’t the case there as it could have been brought in from elsewhere and, usually, losing some of its root system tended to weaken the thing, but still. The odds were not in their favor. Not if it was revealed that his next objective was to kill the fucker and rid that town of their cult.
Surprisingly enough, none of his teammates seemed to recognize the danger that stood before them, despite the fact that, back in his world, his best friends had been the main targets of that cult. Especially Tommy, due to his immunity.
Sorcerer’s eyes were glowing intermittently, following the rhythm of the beating of the heart of the Crimson. He was sniffing the air and looking around as if something wasn’t as he’d been expecting. And, most frightening of all, he was entirely silent, and even his usual smirk had fallen from his face. Of course, he didn’t look scared. Ranboo doubted he had the capacity for fear in the first place, but seeing him so uncertain was possibly even more jarring. Up to that point, he had always exhibited an amount of knowledge that felt inhuman. And yet, standing there looking oh-so-puzzled, he could have been mistaken for just a regular guy who’d stumbled upon a corpse in the woods.
Rogue, Cleric, and Bard were all exchanging glances with each other and shrugging their shoulders. Their healer grimaced a bit when he noticed all the splatters of blood around and muttered something under his breath about how hard those would be to clean. That was the only concern he expressed. The other two didn’t even do that. They just tightened their hold on their weapons and looked to Ranboo for further instructions.
And Ranboo…
Well, Ranboo didn’t know what to do.
He sneaked behind one of the columns, out of view from the congregated cultists, and listened in to what they were saying to try and get an idea. Maybe if he could figure out how far along the Egg was in its quest for power, he could devise a plan to stop it.
As soon as he fully entered the room, he was informed that he’d completed his previous objective and had been assigned a new one called: ‘Time for an Omelet’. He would have found it a lot funnier had he not been so anxious at the moment.
There was no reason for him to fear the Egg as much as he did. He’d never been directly harassed by its followers, nor had he ever experienced the effects of it up close. After a great deal of observation, he’d figured out that if he covered his eyes, he could escape its thrall. It must have been because of that bullshit about eyes being the window to one’s soul or something. To crawl into the minds of its victims and plant the seeds of its manipulation in there, it needed an entrance, and those were the only one it could use. Being blindfolded made spying on the thing a lot harder, but not impossible, so that was what he’d done during the banquet.
However, despite his lack of traumatic encounters with the Crimson Egg, the mere sight of it made him want to cower in fear.
He blamed it on the stories he’d heard about it from Tommy, Tubbo, and even Techno.
Even without having witnessed it firsthand, the image of Sam being reduced to a whimpering husk of his former self, forced to consume his own flesh to resist the maddening hunger he’d been subjected to in a matter of a day, was forever burned into his retinas.
Beyond that, he’d heard of the tireless chase the cultists had embarked upon to kill Tommy and Tubbo. The Egg had reduced Tubbo to tears with visions of the death of the other half of his soul and of Ranboo, so the blond had been all by himself, trying to keep them both alive. His grip on the other’s hand had been so strong that Ranboo remembered Tubbo needing a cast for the micro-fractures within. And yet, somehow, the grief he’d been subjected to had been so strong that he hadn’t noticed any of the pain.
Techno, too, had recounted his first encounter with that horror. Unlike Tommy, he wasn’t truly immune. However, being blessed by the Blood God did come with its own set of side effects, and one of them was that he’d become accustomed to hearing voices. So one might have assumed that he wouldn’t have noticed one more. And yet… the Egg was so loud that the piglin was afraid it would permanently damage his hearing. He didn’t understand what it said, and like everyone else who failed to comprehend its garbled speech, that marked him as an enemy. The Crimson showed him visions of decay, death, arenas he’d once fought for to obtain the favor of his god, and eternity without Phil by his side. Even months after the fact, when he’d felt ready to open up about his experience, his voice still shook when he unveiled that sordid tale. Of course, that was until he started boasting about his fortitude and how it had allowed him to avoid flinching even in the face of such a powerful enemy, but that was just Technoblade being Technoblade. That man’s ego was almost bigger than Dream’s. Still far smaller than Wilbur’s, though.
Back in Ranboo’s world, the threat had been contained at the point in time he was at. An impenetrable obsidian cage had been built all around it, and all those under its control had been freed from their shackles by… bathing them in holy water.
Could that work?
Unless his memory was failing him, Cleric did have the ability to create water. And Rogue had a tattoo of a Prime cross on his wrist, he must have known how to bless it. If they could find a container for it, perhaps they could climb to the second floor and find some way to pour it onto all of the people present and the Egg at once.
As he made these considerations, he heard the head priest say something about how he hoped that these new sacrifices would finally bring their god’s voice back to them, and he knew he didn’t have any more time to decide. He had to act now.
He checked Cleric to make sure that he was right, and remembered then that it was the first time he ever did that with him.
Tommy Innit Underscore Beloved. Class: Cleric
HP: 9
ATK: 13
DEF: 12
State:
This party member is thinking of home and all the chores that await him there
[Check moves, cantrips, and spells available]
Had anybody ever told Ranboo that Cleric had once been a devoted housewife in a past life, he would have believed them even though he’d never once given any credit to the idea of reincarnation. It just felt so fitting with how often he seemed to be preoccupied by all of the most mundane things.
Ranboo shook his head and forced himself to focus back on his goal. He perused Cleric’s list of spells and quickly found one labeled ‘Create or Destroy Water’. For once, he appreciated the laziness of the creator of that world, as that name was as clear as one could make it and spared him any more pointless wastes of time.
From that screen, he couldn’t select it, however, so he turned to Rogue and was thankfully blessed with some dialogue options.
> Do you know how to bless water with the proper rituals under Prime?
> We need to stop this ritual. Do you think you could use your sneak attack to bring down the cultists while we create a distraction?
> Do you think you’d be able to retrieve Lizzie without being noticed?
> … [Exit Dialogue]
Every time his lines brought up ideas that he hadn’t even considered, it always left him a bit baffled. It was as if they hadn’t truly been built with him in mind, instead following a preset template. And perhaps that could have indicated that he wasn’t the first and maybe wouldn’t even be the last to embark on this journey. Had that been any other moment, he would have mulled over the possibility and let the existential dread tied to it consume him until he was nothing more than a shivering mess of panic.
But not at that moment.
He needed to be decisive.
And, while the other two ideas could have worked, he didn’t give himself the time to consider them and just went ahead with his plan. Even if that brought him failure, he could still travel back in time and do it all again. It wasn’t ideal since he was terrified at the idea of his companions not being allowed to follow him, but he would if he was left with no other options.
So, without further hesitation, he slammed his hand down on the first option.
> Do you know how to bless water with the proper rituals under Prime?
Rogue was no less confused than before, but still, he gave Ranboo a curious nod, and that was good enough for him. He turned back toward the group and noticed an icon floating in front of him: half of it was a green cross, and the other half a black knife. Once selected, his teammates sprang into action without needing any further prompting.
Well, Cleric did need to be told that he needed to summon water, and they couldn’t decide where to do that, so Bard pointed them toward a barrel not too far from them. But, aside from that, they worked like a well-oiled machine. Rogue grabbed the barrel and brought it close to their healer, who was already muttering a prayer to his family; this time, his kids' names were the ones he called upon. Once the barrel had been filled, it was Rogue’s turn to pray. From his pocket, he produced a small wooden rosary with the Prime cross hanging at the center of it. He didn’t speak aloud like the other, instead, he closed his eyes and focused hard. Once he was satisfied, he dropped the rosary into the water, which shimmered a light lilac for a moment before going back to normal.
Ranboo hoped it had worked as intended.
They didn’t have the time to find their way up to the second floor, so instead, he rolled the barrel closer to himself and then turned to Sorcerer, who he knew had a spell called ‘Magic Missile’ which would work perfectly for what they needed.
The other was distracted still and Ranboo’s attempt at getting his attention by snapping his fingers in front of his face startled him enough that he ended up ass first onto a pile of manure that the priests and priestesses must have had there since before their charming little garden was entirely overrun by fleshy red vines. Even at such a critical time, Ranboo took a second to delight himself in the other’s misfortune, earning himself a pout before helping him back up. His clothes would need washing especially since they only had two tents that the five of them shared at night and he didn’t want any of the others to have to deal with that foul odor while they were trying to recuperate but, for the time being, he considered all the cleaning he would need to do completely worth it.
Once Sorcerer was back on his feet, more dialogue appeared in front of Ranboo. He was no longer used to being allowed to be so chatty unless he was stuck on a train and didn’t know how to feel about it. For a moment, he wondered if the rules he was bound to in that world would affect him long-term. They weren’t cruel or torturous, but nonetheless, they could reveal themselves to be rather insidious.
That was another train of thought he would need to wait to embark on.
> I’m gonna throw this, I’ll need you to explode it mid-air [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> Bard’s gonna throw this, I’ll need you to explode it mid-air [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> Cleric’s gonna throw this, I’ll need you to explode it mid-air [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> Rogue’s gonna throw this, I’ll need you to explode it mid-air [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> I’m gonna need you to throw this and explode it mid-air [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> … [Exit Dialogue]
It was surprising that even at such a pivotal moment, he was given the chance to simply back out with seemingly no repercussions. It wasn’t something he would choose; he could see no reason to do so, but it was interesting. He wondered if it said something about how little trust the creator of that universe had in his ability to properly communicate with his teammates. Or maybe he was reading too far into it.
He considered all of his options for only a second; he could still hear the head priest ranting behind him, but his words were now accompanied by the sound of weapons being unsheathed, so he knew he was running out of time. He wished he had a couple of minutes to breathe and think but he didn’t.
So, instead of calculating all of the possible outcomes for every response as he wanted to, for the first time in his life, he let his instincts guide him.
> Cleric’s gonna throw this, I’ll need you to explode it mid-air
After he selected that option, his mouth remained closed a moment longer as he kicked the barrel toward their healer, who used his invisible set of hands to pick it up. As much as he wanted to prove his worth to all of them and truly show that he could be trusted as their leader, he knew he wasn’t the strongest or most athletic one there, and they only had one shot to do this right.
A text bubble informed him that his choice earned him some points with Cleric and Sorcerer. The other two were left entirely unaffected, which was fine by him. At least he hadn’t lost their trust.
A dice with twenty faces appeared in front of him, and, with his track record so far, he didn’t even want to look when he pushed it, but his body didn’t entirely belong to him, and so he was forced to. He saw it oscillate between a seven and a fourteen for a moment too long, before wobbling again and landing on an eighteen. To his relief, it was considered a success.
Cleric threw the barrel into the air, and all three of Sorcerer’s blood red arrows slammed into it, causing it to explode all over the cultist, the Egg, and the prisoners.
The cultists and the prisoners were unaffected somehow, the vines, however, let out an inhuman shriek as they withered and died in front of their eyes. The head priest aired his grief at the top of his lungs. He did his best to try and save what he could of that horrid creature, but all of his efforts were in vain. Many of the other robed individuals there freaked out much the same. They were throwing themselves at the Egg, impaling themselves on their own swords in the vain hope that their blood would bring their god back, but nothing could revive the dead. It was impossible to discern after a while if their screams were of agony or desperation. Perhaps they were a mix of both.
Regardless, their pain left Ranboo entirely unshaken. It was a gruesome scene, and yet he couldn’t find it in himself to muster any sympathy for the dying. Part of the reason for that was that the lack of an effect on them indicated that they weren’t possessed. Their actions couldn’t be easily excused away as not their own. They were simply selfish. He knew that the Crimson promised its followers unfathomable riches and the love they craved most. And, while this one lay dormant now for whatever reason, it must have used its silver tongue before, and they all bought into its lies hook, line, and sinker. So much so that they were willing to slaughter innocents just to bring its sweet false promises back.
That kind of selfishness sickened him.
As he stepped over their corpses to retrieve their poor soup vendor lady, he admired the destruction around him. So that was the power of a true believer, huh? Ranboo was positively impressed. From the very beginning, he felt like there was something special about Rogue, which was how he kept justifying his obvious attachment to the boy to himself. Now his delusions were somewhat validated.
He didn’t have to acknowledge the fact that maybe he was simply capable of human emotion and forming attachments like everyone else for one more day, and that was a victory in his books!
His giddiness distracted him from the fact that the Egg had collapsed in on itself, clearly empty. That detail was one he should have committed to memory, but didn’t. For the time being, he celebrated his victory and remained utterly oblivious to what was to come.
Notes:
This has so far been one of my favorite chapters to write for two big reasons: I love foreshadowing, and I love how much it actually felt like DnD, which this AU is heavily inspired by.
Plus, I got to put the Eggpire in here, and I'm always happy to do that, so cheers to that as well!
Chapter 22: A Spiteful Addition
Notes:
Sorry for skipping a week, guys.
When this was supposed to go up, I had one of the worst cases of brain fog ever, my boss had to bully me into going home early (love that guy) kind of brain fog. So I just was not done writing the chapter, and definitely did not have the energy or mental capacity to edit it either.
Feeling better now, though, so here's the chapter!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Once they retrieved Lizzie from the row of hooded sacrifices, they realized that she was in no shape to go back to her soup stand and cook them a nice soup as thanks, to Sorcerer’s frustration. So, while their masked companion threw a hissy fit in the corner that they all pointedly ignored to preserve whatever dignity he had left, they untied all the victims of the cult and helped them up and toward the exit.
Sorcerer followed them through the intricate hallways of the Temple, although his mood did not improve at any point, and he failed to make himself helpful.
Among all of them, Cleric was the one who best succeeded with his rescue efforts, at least after Ranboo cleared his ‘strength check’, which, to his understanding, allowed the guy to pick up one person per arm he possessed. And with him carrying four and letting another two, who were less tired and injured, walk close by him so that they could rest against him when needed, Rogue carrying one and letting another two lean against him for support, and Lizzie using Ranboo as a crutch, they only needed to make the journey back once. Bard was just as unhelpful as Sorcerer, but that was mostly because, unlike with Cleric, Ranboo failed any kind of check related to him. He failed the acrobatics check so severely at one point that Bard tripped on his guitar and face-planted onto the pile of cultist corpses in front of him, bringing Sorcerer down with him.
As soon as they all stepped foot outside of the temple, the once pristine white marble and resplendent gold that made up the structure rapidly decayed. In a matter of seconds, red veins appeared throughout it sucking away any hint of color and light and then the structure collapsed in on it itself, burying the corpses of the fallen and disappearing from sight without a trace. The giant Crimson Egg, which had been at the center of it all, was nowhere to be seen once the dust settled. Nothing was. Where that oppressive symbol of power had once been, there was nothing but a sea of blood slowly being reabsorbed into the earth. The two guards who had at first hindered their entrance were too entranced by the odd spectacle to pay them any mind.
Something about all of that could have been poetic had Ranboo mastered words.
But, as he was the furthest thing from a poet, thankfully, some would say, as Wilbur had set a truly horrid example for those, he just wrapped his arm tighter around Lizzie and turned away from that devastation in search of a hospital or a clinic they could bring her to.
Out of the corner of his eyes, he spotted Rogue bringing his tattooed wrist up to his mouth as if to whisper a quick prayer, only to shake his head and dismiss the act entirely. Faintly, he heard him reproach himself for daring to compromise his brother’s chances at receiving his company upon death and remark sadly that certain habits were harder to break than he would have liked.
Ranboo wasn’t given a chance to interrogate him on the meaning behind his words. Nor the time to let them sink in as Cleric told them all to hurry up already because his arms were not gonna hold forever, even if he was the biggest of men to ever live. That Tommy-like arrogant attitude took Ranboo by surprise so much that it caused Rogue’s words to slip from his mind.
Still not knowing where to go, Ranboo gave the fish lady by his side, who had been a great source of knowledge for them in the past, a questioning look. In response, she raised a trembling arm and pointed to something off in the distance: “The child on the golden tiger, he’s come from there”.
He didn’t know what to expect once he followed the direction her finger pointed in with his eyes, but it certainly wasn’t the young Tommy they’d met more than once by that point, riding what he could only assume was a blond tiger, with bandages wrapped tightly around the one ankle they could see dangling off the beast he sat upon, and pouting like a child who had just been told he couldn’t have sweets before dinner. From the visible injury on the boy that had been taken care of so well already, it was easy to guess that Lizzie hadn’t been spouting off prophetic nonsense but had instead just taken an educated guess. Ranboo could appreciate a woman of logic.
Instead of walking up to the boy and waiting to see if the universe would allow him to ask any pertinent question, if it allowed him to speak at all, he looked behind him, where he spotted a building with a golden caduceus protruding from it. All the old-timey stuff in that town would have likely left him incredibly confused had the End he came from not been fond of them just as much. Thankfully, what little he remembered from his childhood was enough to know that the caduceus indicated a place of medicine. It was connected to some old Overworld god whose memory had been lost to time. However, the fact that even just one of their symbols persisted surely must have indicated their superior might or something. It certainly was more impressive than anything any of the gods Ranboo had gotten to meet personally had ever achieved, he would give that old dead fucker that at least.
With one last bout of effort, the party, minus Bard and Sorcerer, who were just hanging out together behind the rest of them, throwing themselves a pity party for one reason or another, managed to carry all of the survivors off to the small hospital. Which, as they discovered, consisted of one single room with a bunch of beds lined up against every wall of it. There seemingly was only one doctor working there, who was yet another Tommy, this one dressed in Prime priest robes, two nurses, and an emotional support cat working there. No wonder that town seemed to be kinda screwed when that was the best they had to offer.
Despite that pitiful display, at least there were enough empty beds to accommodate all the survivors they brought there. And even an extra one that Ranboo managed to convince Rogue to lie down in, so they could check him over. He’d been healed of his earlier battle injuries, but he preferred always erring on the side of caution with his most precious boy.
Had his Tommy and Tubbo back home been able to hear his thoughts, they would have never allowed him to live them down.
Among them, Ranboo had always been the one most hesitant about having children. It wasn’t because of something as silly as the blood on his hands making him think that he was an unfit or unsafe parent. He knew why he’d carried out all of his actions, and his conscience was free of guilt as a result. No, it was more so because… well… he didn’t trust the world they lived in to be kind to the powerless when it had already proven time and time again that it was not.
How many times could one take note of the disproportionate amount of cruelty the youngest members of the server had been subjected to before losing hope? Because he’d crossed that threshold already a while before.
It was hard for him to understand how his best friends could remain so positive.
Every single one of Tommy’s pets, before the giant spider that had taken residence in their attic, had been killed just to get a rise out of him. His most precious possessions had been turned into an object of power and control, and their meaning had been twisted enough to have wars waged in their name. His little dirt shack had been destroyed and vandalized enough times that it was unrecognizable nowadays, and unreachable as it lay buried under a layer of obsidian. And his lives had been stolen one by one by a cruel dictator.
Tubbo’s sense of safety had been threatened so much since he was young that he’d never had a properly furnished house until Snowchester. He refused to have anything belong to him as it was the only way he had to prevent himself from experiencing the devastating grief his soulmate had been put through innumerable times, and yet even that hadn’t been enough to spare him that suffering. One by one, all of his role models had fallen. His more innocent interests had been mocked as childish, and his wonder and kindness had been taken as weaknesses and twisted until his skin hardened enough that he could withstand any bullet as well as he could insults. And, just to add insult to injury, he’d been robbed of his lives and made to experience whatever he had left without half of himself for weeks while Tommy’s body lay rotting on the floor of the prison.
There was no justice in their world.
Revenge was the closest thing to it, and still, they had to take that themselves by force.
Adopting a lost little soul in a world like that was a condemnation.
But, being so far from home, Ranboo couldn’t help but finally give the idea some thought. Indulging a request he’d so far ignored from his best friends. Rogue was only a few years younger than him. He didn’t need to be coddled and taught how to be a person anymore, and maybe that’s what made it all so much easier. He needed guidance because, by then, it was undeniable that all he’d received was a heaping dose of brainwashing, and that Ranboo could confidently say he was an expert at giving.
That said, while he was happy that his boy was going to get checked over, that’s where his luck ran out, because the bed he was assigned was right next to the one from the aggressive Tommy they’d faced in combat a few hours earlier. And the pompous prick had the audacity to show remorse for the pain he caused, he dared pretend he had morals like a good person. It was a pathetic act, and Ranboo could see right through it.
Eyes fixed on Rogue, the annoying older Tommy pushed himself into a sitting position so he could more easily speak. “I’m really sorry about that, little me. I acted very impulsively, and you got hurt for it. That shouldn’t have happened, and it’s entirely my fault”. The prick even sounded genuine. Guilt dripped off every syllable and hung heavy in the air between them. Their crystal blue eyes were even misty with tears.
There on that crappy hospital cot that the staff there insisted on calling a bed, he looked nothing like the rage-filled warrior from before. And hating him was harder once that sunk in.
Ranboo’s Tommy could also own up to his mistakes, he’d apologized many times, often even for very silly things, like getting so caught up in Tubbo’s instincts that he headbutted someone too hard. However, even someone as kind and introspective as him wouldn’t have shown any remorse for attempting to kick the ass of people he had every reason to assume were cultists who kidnapped people and happily sacrificed them to please their favorite eldritch horror.
Instead of being perplexed by his behavior, Rogue just shrugged. “I deserved it” he answered matter-of-factly, with the same exact inflection Ranboo’s own Tommy always used to dismiss any apologies directed at him. In that tone that told him that it would take years for him as well to allow his Tubbo to make amends for exiling him.
Neither Ranboo nor the older Tommy were pleased with that response.
And, had he been given the chance to do so, Ranboo would have said as much. Unfortunately, when he glanced down at his dialogue options, he found that they were all addressed to the other guy.
> If you want to make up for it, you could join our party [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> Enough chatter, join my party [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> It’s not that big of a deal, we kicked your ass much harder. So now you can lie there and cry about it forever [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> … [Exit Dialogue]
Considering the fact that he still didn’t want the other guy around for much longer, there was only really one correct choice there.
> It’s not that big of a deal, we kicked your ass much harder. So now you can lie there and cry about it forever
Technically, he could have also remain silent, but he couldn’t resist teasing the pompous asshole one more time. Even if, as it turned out, he wasn’t that bad after all. At least from a moral standpoint, personality-wise, Ranboo still found him insufferable; however, by that point, he was starting to think that it was less of a logical distaste and more of an emotional response to his holier-than-thou vibes.
Cleric had those as well sometimes, but underneath the surface, there was always a sense of danger that made them more bearable. He was a lure, made to look pretty and harmless but deadly.
The new Tommy was nothing like that, he could tell. He looked like the type of guy who would raise his hand in conversation and wait patiently for his turn to speak. Or the kind of guy who would apologize for bumping against a hostile mob by accident. Or the kind of guy who would stay in contact with every single shitty family member he had just out of a stupid sense of duty to them. Those were all baseless assumptions, but Ranboo would have been willing to bet his ability to return home that at least two out of three of those were true.
Once the words he’d selected left his mouth, he was promptly informed that he’d gained some trust points with Sorcerer and Bard. Unsurprisingly. Those two fuckers seemed to always enjoy the opportunity to mock somebody. And his masked teammate, especially, was similar enough to him that he probably also had an instinctual hatred for the older Tommy. Cleric remained neutral, nothing was gained or lost with him. That wasn’t his monkey or his circus so he didn’t give a shit. And he lost a few with Rogue and someone the universe decided to dub: ‘Paladin’.
When he noticed that last piece of information, he paled.
He thought being snarky was a way to avoid recruiting the guy. And yet, Paladin just interpreted it as a challenge. He pushed himself up and out of the bed, flinching only slightly at the soreness the poisonous red gas from Sorcerer must have left all over his body, and walked right up to Ranboo. He was kinda short for a Tommy, something he’d failed to notice before. From up close and personal as they were at that moment, however, he couldn’t help but notice that the other only reached up to his armpits, where most of them got to his chin or a couple of centimeters higher in Rogue’s case. Still, his fury was palpable, and he could be somewhat intimidating even when pushing himself on his tip-toes to try and match Ranboo. “You know what? I’m gonna join your little team just to spite you specifically. You remind me of my brother way too much for you not to need someone there to keep you on the right path. So, get fucked, you now got yourself a moral compass”. He finished his impassioned speech by pushing Ranboo back with a huff and turning to face Rogue once more. As soon as his eyes met the concerned expression of the younger, his entire demeanor softened. “If it’s alright with the rest of you, of course” he amended. A last-second reassurance.
It was almost impressive how, even after a tirade so filled with anger and a desire to prove himself, the guy still remained true to his claim of possessing some kind of moral backbone and sought out some form of consent, even if it wasn’t from Ranboo. Almost because, above all, it was annoying, unnecessary, and, if he knew his teammates nearly as well as he believed he did, would lead him nowhere.
To be precise, Ranboo was banking on the fact that three out of four of his teammates would be against it, so he didn’t feel too concerned when Rogue gave his hesitant approval.
However, once Cleric shrugged and muttered: “Suit yourself” he started sweating a little bit. Which sucked because sweat irritated his skin almost as much as tears did.
Still, there was a chance for him to flip it against Paladin by pointing out that all decisions needed to be taken with a majority approval, and they were three against two at the moment.
And then betrayal struck.
Bard strummed his guitar dramatically and sang: “Diversity hire… we need one of those”. To emphasize his approval, he snapped his fingers, causing some dust to detach from his body and fall to the ground, then pointed to Paladin with both of his hands and winked.
Paladin was confused, however, seeing Ranboo’s mounting horror, his befuddled frown quickly turned into a grin so smug it could have rivaled one of Sorcerer’s.
Speaking of, his last teammate dealt the finishing blow by enthusiastically clapping Paladin on the back and announcing: “Welcome aboard! Your presence here is bound to be hilarious”.
Ranboo wanted to die.
His plan. His beautiful, almost-perfect plan… it had crumbled in front of his eyes before it could get a chance to thrive.
There was nothing he could do about it by the time a text bubble popped up to inform him that Paladin had been added to his party. He was so distraught that he just sat down on Rogue’s bed and pouted like the teenager that he was for the first time in years.
Notes:
Man, I love Paladin, he's such a hot-headed dumbass. Definitely a much needed addition as these fuckers were extremely lacking on the morality aspect of it all. They've been doing good deeds almost exclusively because of self-serving reasons so far.
Chapter 23: The Boat Ride
Notes:
I'm so sorry I forgot to post the chapter last Friday! I thought I did, and I didn't check until today.
I went out to the zoo with my partners, and I guess it completely escaped my mind.
I hope you guys still enjoy it even if it's late!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
To reach the next town over, for once, instead of a train, they had to board a ferry that carried them along a river. It was a comfortable means of transportation for Ranboo. The velvet couches they’d been provided with were soft and nice, the temperature inside was pleasant, and the view outside the circular windows, peppered all over, was breathtaking.
Unfortunately, however, not all of his travel buddies were as well-suited to journeying across the water as he was.
Paladin, their latest acquisition, and Bard both seemed to be uncomfortable with the idea. It wasn’t as if either of them was especially seasick, either; they just seemed scared. It took him longer than he would have liked to admit to figure out that it most likely had something to do with the fact that a boat was what Dream had used to drag them away from their friends and family and to their own personal Hell. By the time the thought hit him, Cleric had already sequestered them away to a more isolated part of the ship where they could hopefully lie down, eyes closed, and mind empty. Their healer was convinced that was all they needed to feel better, and Ranboo wasn’t educated enough on motion sickness to argue against that point. Even knowing that the cause for their deathly pallor was likely trauma didn’t change the fact that he was utterly ignorant when it came to caring for others.
Sorcerer followed along as he found the entire situation hilarious. That guy truly was a sadistic bastard.
That left him and Rogue alone, and he was fully aware of what that meant, so he braced himself for whatever cryptic conversation he was about to have with his special boy that would change the direction of their entire journey in some unknown way. He recognized the pattern he was trapped in. And he didn’t particularly mind it.
At least he was happy to know that Rogue hadn’t been exiled by Tubbo in his universe. Either that or the experience hadn’t left him anywhere near as scarred as it did for the other two.
Technically, that was also his first official confirmation that Cleric and Sorcerer hadn’t been through it either, but all he’d learned so far about their worlds of origin was that they were nothing like his, what with Cleric living in a big city with people with superpowers all around him, a job, three kids, and two spouses, and Sorcerer not even knowing what L’Manburg was when mentioned, so it wasn’t nearly as surprising. It would have been far more odd if they had been exiled by their respective Tubbos at some point, especially since, from what he gathered, neither had the power to do so.
Well, Cleric had enough of a soft spot for his spouses that if they ever told him to leave the city, he would have done it as long as he was allowed to take the kids with him.
Sorcerer though? No way. That guy never would have gone along with a bit that was bound to lessen the number of misfortunes he would get to witness and laugh at. Doing so was almost his only purpose in life. Almost, because chasing after Lizzie’s soups and committing marriage fraud seemed to be pretty big ones as well.
The others were well out of earshot when Rogue finally spoke up: “Ranboo… listen I- I’ve been meaning to tell you something. ‘Cause Wil always said there was no point in keeping things hidden from him as he would eventually find out, and… I’m assuming the same is true for you, right?”. His voice was uncertain and shaky. It was rare to hear him so scared. Not nervous, terrified.
Whatever he was hiding must have been major.
And it looked as if it was something he’d been suppressing for longer than he’d been there in that world.
He had a few theories, the main one being that it had something to do with the dirty trench coat Rogue was wearing at first before Ranboo unlocked some new and cleaner clothes for him. It was still possible that the blood splatters on that old rag were nothing but a red herring. It wouldn’t have been the first time that whoever brought them there tricked him; that was how they’d gotten Paladin to join his party after all. There was only one way to know for certain, and he was dying of curiosity.
However, while Rogue was the one who offered to give him all the answers he could have ever wanted on a silver platter, he knew that taking the offer wouldn’t be a choice free of consequences. Not because it would break Rogue’s trust, it was clear that the boy had been conditioned into accepting whatever breaches of privacy older men in positions of authority over him deemed necessary, but because it would have made him no different from all the other manipulative bastards that had polluted the boy’s life up until then.
Not for the first time, he wondered if his Tommy once was stuck in a similar mindset. If he would have said yes to whatever Wilbur demanded of him. If he would have done the same with Dream too, once the masked man managed to make him dependent enough. And then Techno when he became his only safe place. And now Ranboo, his self-appointed leader, whom he trusted with his life. With a will so malleable, whose responsibility was it to keep him protected and reinforce his agency to him?
His thoughts were still a tumultuous mess when the dialogue options available to him covered his field of view.
> Wilbur was full of it. You shouldn’t divulge anything you don’t want to [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> Wilbur was full of it. But you should still tell me what you’ve been hiding to earn my trust [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> Wilbur was full of it. It’s your choice what you tell me or hide from me. But I would appreciate knowing the truth so I can make informed choices going forward [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> Wilbur had a point; the truth will likely come out sooner or later. However, whether you want to share it on your own terms or let the universe do its thing is your choice [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> Wilbur had a point; the truth will likely come out sooner or later. So, may as well get it over with now [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> Wilbur had a point; the truth will likely come out sooner or later. But we’ll deal with it once it happens. Keep it to yourself for as long as you can [May affect your party members’, present and future, trust lv]
> Wilbur sounds like a coward who is too afraid to commit to you when you’re at your worst, as you did for him. It doesn’t matter if he’s right or wrong; you should disregard all he says. He cannot be trusted [May affect your party members’, present and future, trust lv]
It took him longer than usual to read through them all, and yet, even if all the answers were so wordy, they didn’t help him make up his mind at all.
On principle, he wanted to disregard all of the options that forced him to agree with Wilbur. There were really only a couple of people he ever disliked more than that man, and they were Dream and Schlatt, the two tyrants who had cost his best friends all the lives they’d lost so far. And yet, while not directly responsible for their demise, the musician had always been a close third in the list of people he could not tolerate. The only reason why he hadn’t orchestrated his death when he had the chance was because he knew his Tommy would have resented him for it, even if he would have gone along with the plan. Even to that day, he was still incredibly attached to his older brother. All the times he’d been left behind, abandoned to suffer through the aftermath of a war he hadn’t started and didn’t want, had been forgiven in his mind as soon as his brother showed any sign of repentance; no apology had been necessary. It was sad how loyal he was to such trash.
And yet, while that was what his heart was telling him to do, he couldn’t deny that a couple of the answers that made him concede a point to Wilbur were reasonable and well thought-out. Especially the first of the three. It still reinforced Rogue’s agency while acknowledging that whoever brought them there was bound to share all of their backstories before the end of their journey. It felt like a story beat too obvious to skip.
Had that one been the only choice that allowed him to give Rogue some space to make his own choices, he probably would have sucked it up and selected it, but it wasn’t. It was the only one that fully acknowledged the maker of the universe they’d been transported to, albeit in a bit of religious determinism sort of way, but he figured he could go without that if it meant keeping his ego intact.
The one that attracted his attention the most at first was the third option. If he had gone with it, it would have made him look good. After all, it directly stated that the choice was Rogue’s. But then there was a caveat to that, a small suggestion that, while the boy could keep his secrets, that wouldn’t be the correct path for him. Opening up and satisfying Ranboo’s endless curiosity was held up as the morally correct thing to do. After all, his sweet boy certainly wouldn’t have wanted him to plan ahead without all the information he needed…
It was tempting, but he resisted the allure of setting up that trap.
There were plenty of people worse than him who would have gone ahead with it without a second thought, and nobody would have suspected him of doing so with nefarious intent. It was the perfect move. And that was exactly why he ultimately discarded it.
Yes, he could be a manipulative asshole when he wanted to. He was cold and calculated when needed. And he’d had to slightly push his best friends to do things they wouldn’t necessarily have come up with by themselves for their own good in the past. But he always tried his best not to be selfish. He always tried to keep in mind the needs of those he loved. And, while maybe it was a bit too early for it, it was undeniable that he’d grown immensely fond of Rogue already.
His sweet boy was basically his child.
If possible, he would be bringing him home at the end of that adventure.
The last thing he wanted was to take advantage of the fact that the man who had been supposed to care for Rogue had instead set him up to be abused. It was a miracle that the boy hadn’t ended up exiled yet, as he wasn’t likely to even try and fight the decision at the trial the way Ranboo’s Tommy had. The more he got to know him, the more certain he was becoming of the fact that his response to injustice was to lie down and take it. Perhaps it would have been more fitting for him to be a dog hybrid than a lizard.
Out of options that seemed reasonable and wouldn’t bruise his ego, without dismissing the reality of their situation, Ranboo just went with the one he disagreed with the least. It wasn’t perfect, but he doubted he would have been able to come up with a better speech on the spot even if he’d been given the chance to talk freely, so it had to do.
> Wilbur sounds like a coward who is too afraid to commit to you when you’re at your worst, as you did for him. It doesn’t matter if he’s right or wrong; you should disregard all he says. He cannot be trusted
Among the options that didn’t validate Wilbur’s conditioning, it was the one that felt the most neutral in a way. It left the decision on what to do entirely up to Rogue, just as he’d wanted. And it even allowed Ranboo to air out some of his frustrations with the man. It wasn’t perfect as it made it seem as if he was jumping to conclusions, maybe a bit too much, and sounded rather conspiratorial, but he didn’t regret going with it.
Two text bubbles appeared in front of him. The first one informed him that the trust level of his party toward any Wilbur they may encounter during their journey had decreased, which would make it harder for him to befriend or recruit any of them without losing some of the members he had already accumulated. He was sure that had been meant as a negative consequence, however, he didn’t give a fuck. He hadn’t been planning on recruiting any failed presidents or deadbeat dads anyway.
Now, had he received a message like that about Tubbo… now that would have been seriously upsetting!
He hadn’t met any so far, but he was nonetheless holding out hope for the future. He missed Tubbo greatly. Missed his cleverness, missed his strength, missed his inventiveness… he just missed all of him a whole lot. It was easier to pretend that the distance from his Tommy wasn’t eating away at him as much when there were so many versions of him all around him at all times. However, he hadn’t gotten that small mercy when it came to his other best friend, and the pain he felt from being so far apart was getting unbearable.
Ranboo wasn’t either of his best friends’ soulmates. Those were a rare thing that very few were blessed and cursed with. He wasn’t one of them. And yet… sometimes it felt as if the red string of fate that tied Tommy’s and Tubbo’s souls together was wound tightly around his heart as well. And it would keep squeezing it until he either gave in and joined their hivemind or died.
The second text bubble started blinking in and out of existence, dragging his attention back to it just in time to read it before it disappeared. It read: ‘The trees have heard your words and they are pleased’ in a sickly maroon hue that reminded him of the color of rotten blood.
A shiver ran down his spine.
He had a bad feeling about what was to come.
Rogue, oblivious to what he’d just read, hummed in consideration. “I don’t think there is anyone who’d remain loyal to me at my worst…” he mumbled after a moment. He hadn’t been making eye contact with Ranboo at any point during that conversation, but right then, he actually turned his body around so as to be facing the window. He didn’t have his back to Ranboo, only his profile. “Well, Tubbo did. He’s a good friend. The best, really. I wish I were as good a friend to him as he’s been to me. I- I tried to be. I really did. But the kindest thing I did for him was try not to leave him all alone… and now I’m here and he’s not, so even that was all for nothing”. Anguish soaked his every word. His eyes were scrunched up, his brows furrowed, his bottom lip wobbly. He had that expression Ranboo’s Tommy often got when he was trying not to cry.
It broke his heart clean in half.
His darling boy was still so young, younger than the rest of them. Not by much, but it showed at times in the worst way possible. He was still a kid, and yet it was impossible to miss the world weighing on his shoulders. The pressure of whatever he’d gone through was crushing him. And there wasn’t a damn thing Ranboo could do to help. Not one. After all, to fix his life, he would have needed to travel back to the start of it all and get himself out of that darned monastery before Wilbur could get his greedy little talons on him.
Time travel, however, was impossible in their universes of origin as far as he was aware. Had it not been, he was sure that Rogue would have used it to keep his brother from dying.
Mercifully, the creator of that universe allowed him the next best thing: some words of comfort he could dish out right then and there. No time jumps required.
> I’ll be by your side, no matter what happens or what I find out about you
> I’m sure Tubbo thinks you’re a good friend
> You can try to be a better friend to him once you get back home
> I think I can see Cleric around that corner. You can go to him if you need a hug
> Would you like a hug?
> … [Exit Dialogue]
He didn’t want to make false promises, and he didn’t know enough about his Tubbo or what his world looked like when he’d been forced to leave it behind to ascertain anything about those topics.
So instead, he went with something he knew to be true.
> I’ll be by your side, no matter what happens or what I find out about you
Ranboo was so attached to Rogue by that point that he knew that nothing could make his resolve waver. He was determined to show him that he could be loved without any strings attached, without the requirement for obedience, without any of the crappy lessons that Wilbur had imparted upon him.
There, in their party, his lovely boy was free to craft his own future. He was free to be himself. To grow close with the others and get a taste of what friendship could be like beyond Tubbo, not that he doubted Rogue’s claims that the other had been a good friend to him, but, well, he’d proven not to be the best judge of character so far, so he couldn’t be sure about anything. He wanted the youngest of them to experience what a healthy sense of community felt like so that maybe he could bring those experiences back home with him and apply them to his life. Or bring them to Ranboo’s universe and be happy there, if that were an option. He really hoped it was. In small part because he had a feeling that it would piss off Paladin if he got to keep the kid the other also seemed to have quickly grown attached to, and he loved angering that pretentious prick.
Rogue gave him a small, doubtful smile and then turned back to watch the waves outside the window. It was fine if he didn’t trust him enough to believe that yet. Ranboo would prove to him that he meant every word he’d said.
He wasn’t given a chance to say anything else, unfortunately. He would have loved to offer Rogue a hug. The boy looked like he was even more starved for affection than his Tommy already was. Maybe as much as he’d been back when they weren’t a team, back when he and Tubbo were at odds and no longer functioning as a unit. It was that kind of loneliness that clung to the youngest of them like a parasite.
The creator must not have been feeling merciful enough, however. Because they arrived at their destination, and their teammates joined them once more, interrupting their chat.
Notes:
We got our Rogue-centric chapter. By now, I'm sure you guys noticed that every few chapters we get one with only one of the members of the gang. I think these have become my favorite ones to write. They're always quite fun and relaxed!
Btw, next week I'm home at my parents' place, so I won't be able to update, so sorry, you're getting your chapter in a month again
Chapter 24: Charlie the Human and his Human Emporium of Wonders
Notes:
Hello guys! I'm back! And, this time, you're actually getting your chapter on the day you were supposed to. Hurray!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
There was no city where the ferry stopped. Only an old pier with algae growing all over it and a couple of hanging lights to illuminate a small cobblestone path that led away from it and into a swamp.
Ranboo was about to insist they leave and skip that whole section of their adventure when the boat they’d come in, left. A faded sign at the end of the pier informed him that the ferry only came by twice a day, so, regardless, if they wanted to escape that horrid place, they would need to wait in that creepy and likely mosquito-infested place until morning.
So, with a sigh, he stepped onto the only path he could see and started walking. His party members followed him, some with more confidence than others. Cleric was muttering under his breath something about how he was a city boy through and through and how that whole place felt off to him. Bard seemed dazed; he was leaning heavily on both Rogue, who didn’t express his opinion one way or the other, and his guitar as he walked. It worried Ranboo, but a quick check revealed that there was nothing out of the ordinary with him; his life was simply one of continuous suffering, and he was ready to leave it behind (that status update did nothing to calm his worries). Sorcerer was curiously looking around, clearly giddy to see whatever they were gonna stumble upon. And Paladin, while silent, was frowning and looking intensely at any patch of mud they came across with an emotion that sat somewhere between disgust and longing. He did not understand that man.
The cobblestone path led them through a dimly illuminated mangrove forest, where they were jumped by a couple of groups of bandits, they made quick work of, to Paladin’s slight displeasure and Cleric’s endless delight. Those encounters both earned them a pouch with a few golden coins inside, so he couldn’t complain. It was about time they started earning some more significant rewards.
Finally, after almost an hour of walking, they arrived at a huge cave in the side of a mountain with a small village set up in its entrance.
Hell, even calling it a ‘village’ was rather generous. There were four houses there in total, and a shop. No trace of Lizzie for once, though he supposed that made sense. She would have needed some time to recover from the ordeal she’d gone through, and the town they left was one of the best places to do so, since, for as basic as it was, they had a hospital.
However, her absence did leave him without his go-to strategy to learn all the hidden lore of whatever place he was stranded in. That said, they had gained some money very recently, so he figured he wasn’t entirely out of things to do, seeing as there was a shop in that small village called ‘Charlie the Human and his Human Emporium of Wonders’. A creepy name, no doubt, but it was as good a place to start as any. If it turned out that it was just a front for human trafficking or whatever, the implication of ‘Charlie’s Human Emporium of Wonders’ was, they at least could say they’d found their new mission.
As soon as he took a step into the cave, the earth shook beneath him and, for a moment, a heartbeat that wasn’t his could be heard resonating deep below the ground. Likely what had caused that small earthquake.
“That’s ominous…” Cleric mumbled, giving voice to Ranboo’s exact thoughts. “It reminds me of a story Boob Boy-” his eyes landed on him and he felt compelled to specify: “My version of him” as if there could have been any confusion. To be fair, he was guilty of doing that too when thinking about his Tommy and Tubbo, so he couldn’t judge their poor healer’s choice of words too much. “Read before. It was something about a living cave that a corporation saw fit to turn into, like, a resort of sorts? This clearly doesn’t look like a rich people travel destination, but do you guys think it could be a situation like that?” his question was as earnest as everything he ever said. If there was one thing that could be said about that guy, it was that he was the most sincere among them, and it always clashed with the deceiving nature of his existence.
Had he been an actual siren, he probably wouldn’t even have tricked sailors with promises of their deepest desires hiding just below the waves. No, he would have been promising them a slow and painful death, and they would have fallen for it regardless.
Sorcerer hummed, thoughtful. Ranboo didn’t know he could do that. Either take his time to answer a question or think. He, too, could be full of surprises! “Possibly” he decided in the end. “Blood runs through this mushy ground; it could be animal in nature, or it could belong to the cave itself. Breathing, beating… slowly digesting whoever is foolish enough to wander further in than they should…”. Looking around, it was obvious that his speech had spooked some of the members of their party. Paladin had huddled closer to Rogue and Bard, as if to shield them from the danger, and Ranboo, too, wasn’t unaffected. One glance down revealed that his hands were trembling. A panic attack at that moment would have been most inconvenient, and he tried his best to suppress his emotions and listen, but it wasn’t easy. “What a marvelous creature it could be” their masked teammate continued wistfully, either oblivious or uncaring of the distress he was causing them. Finally, with one last glance at the stone that made up the walls and ceiling of that place, he sighed and shrugged, focusing his attention back on Cleric. “Unfortunately, I’m afraid the explanation behind what we experienced, while unnatural, will be much more mundane”.
He was gonna strangle Sorcerer, he decided.
As soon as he got the option to sacrifice him to some eldritch monstrosity, he would. If that happened to be a possibility once they inevitably were sent to venture into the cave to complete whatever mission they’d be assigned there, then he’d be glad.
“You’re such a dick…” Paladin mumbled. And that was another strike against Sorcerer, because how dare he make him agree with that prick?! Unbelievable!
In response, Sorcerer only laughed. A loud, obnoxious laugh that had him folded in two, holding his belly. Ranboo was sure he was exaggerating it to piss him and Paladin off.
After all, nothing about what had just happened was even remotely funny.
They walked the rest of the way to Charlie’s Emporium, leaving their masked teammate behind to catch his breath. Cleric was the only one who remained stood by his side, guarding him while patting his back soothingly, but his tolerance for bullshit was well above average, so it wasn’t too surprising. And they weren’t too far off from them anyway, the entrance door of the shop was in their line of sight.
When given the option to choose, he decided not to bring any of his party members inside. He would have liked to hang out with his precious boy some more, but Bard wasn’t doing well, and he figured it was smarter to prioritize his well-being over some bonding time with his favorite party member. A decision that Paladin welcomed with a stern nod and a half smile. That guy’s heart had never left the military, that was for certain.
On the inside, the shop was covered floor to ceiling in a weird green goopy substance that smelled faintly of mint. The merchandise had been spared, thankfully, as a lot of it was food. He still didn’t know if he trusted any of it to be safe to eat, so he ignored it as he moved toward the counter.
The clerk was a smiling man with glasses, bright green eyes, and light green gelatinous hair. He was wearing a white button-up, green suspenders, and a matching green tie. He couldn’t see his pants, but he was willing to bet that he knew their color. The guy reminded him a lot of Slime, Quackity’s friend, who tried to convince everyone he came across of his humanity and spouted profound quotes out of nowhere sometimes. Maybe Charlie was just another name for him. Thinking about it, he wasn’t sure that the name he knew him by was even his actual name. He and the duck had a… complicated and contentious relationship, so he hardly ever ventured into Las Nevadas, where both of them lived, and he hadn’t gotten many chances to talk to the weird fellow. His Tommy was a bit more familiar with the guy and the place, but their every encounter only left him more confused, so there wasn’t much more knowledge that he could contribute, and the same was true for Tubbo, despite him working in that city.
Seeing him standing there and smiling ominously, the only thing he was sure of was that he’d be leaving that shop with a headache. As if Sorcerer and his antics hadn’t been enough of a bother that day…
“Welcome, Ranboo from the Leader Ranboo AU, how may I help you?” Charlie greeted him as cheerily as the version of him he was familiar with always did. He hadn’t said much, but his words made him realize that going inside alone had been a mistake.
He didn’t know what an AU was, although, from the context, he figured it to be another way to call a universe, but if the names of them were so descriptive, it could have been a good way to stealthily gain information on his teammates. As soon as that thought crossed his mind, he dismissed it. Subterfuges like that had no place in his party. He was slowly gaining an insight into their backstories anyway, so there was no point in pushing them before they were ready. There was very little he would gain from it, and he could lose a great deal of the trust he’d worked hard to earn.
The interface to interact with him appeared similar to what he always got with Lizzie.
You have: 27g
> Buy Ball of Slime (1g)
> Buy Shepard’s Pie with Mysterious Meat (3g)
> Buy Tubburger’s Special Green Patty (1g)
> Buy Bouncy Boots (5g)
> Buy Sticky Gloves (6g)
> Sell
> Talk
Every purchasable item was more horrifying than the previous one.
Still, it was the first time he came across something that could have probably been considered armor at a very affordable price, and several of his teammates had rather low hit points and could have likely used the defense buff. Besides, if the gloves and boots turned out to be less than useless, he could always discard them and never think about them again. Their price combined wasn’t nothing, but they could regain that money if they just camped it out in the swamp for a while, since the enemies there weren’t too strong, but did carry quite a bit of loot.
Still a bit unsure, he bought one pair of each, as that was all there was in stock.
Charlie gave him a knowing look when he bought the gloves that he didn’t like one bit (in part because he had a feeling that it hadn’t actually been meant for him), and then smiled brightly for the boots and advised him to: “Save them. You’ll soon meet a flightless bird, they may be a nice gift”. How he knew that was a mystery he didn’t have the patience or desire to unravel that day. Words of wisdom like that were not to be ignored; however, he knew that much, so he decided to keep them in mind.
Still, when the two pieces of armor landed in his inventory, he couldn’t help his curiosity, and he checked both of them out. ‘Sticky Gloves. DEF 2. Their sticky nature allows for climbing vertical surfaces. May be used on tall people’. Odd, but far more harmless than he’d been expecting. He decided he’d be giving that one to Rogue. His class was all about movement, so it made sense to give him something that would allow for more options in that regard. ‘Bouncy Boots. DEF 4. Their bouncy nature allows for safe and fun landings. The rush of wind through hair, foliage, and feathers that their bouncing is sure to cause simulates the feeling of flying’. And that one looked about right for the piece of advice he’d been given regarding them.
Satisfied, he perused his options once more.
You have: 16g
> Buy Ball of Slime (1g)
> Buy Shepard’s Pie with Mysterious Meat (3g)
> Buy Tubburger’s Special Green Patty (1g)
> Sell
> Talk
There was nothing he cared to sell, so that time around, he went straight for talking.
And, to his surprise, he was given quite a few interesting options to choose from.
> Is the cave alive?
> Do you know what the earthquake and the heartbeat from earlier were about?
> Are you the Slime from my universe?
> How did you know where I came from?
> What will we find if we venture further into the cave?
> … [Exit Dialogue]
Usually, with vendors, he was allowed to go down the whole list. But, just in case that wasn’t true with Charlie (and rules being different when it came to him made sense as he was already an odd fellow who had broken the fourth wall at least once), he first selected what he thought was most important.
> Do you know what the earthquake and the heartbeat from earlier were about?
Slime raised a squiggly green brow at him (that he was about seventy percent sure was a caterpillar he’d glued to his face to give himself a bit more of a human appearance), as if to ask if he was sure that the question he’d selected had been the correct one. Joke’s on him, Ranboo had never been sure about anything in his entire life. Every conversation was a game of chess, and he was far from being good at the game. And every decision he ever made had been a coin toss that he’d usually been lucky enough to win. Even outside of Las Nevadas, life was always a gamble.
That look lasted only for a second, but Ranboo knew that he’d be carrying the judgment he’d received with him for the rest of his life. What a humbling experience.
“All life returns to the earth it came from, eventually. Here, that process seems to be quicker. It’s corrupted. It changes whoever dares venture too close to its core. This town used to be much bigger, you know? And it could flourish again if someone destroys the artifact that has it ensnared” Charlie explained seriously. It was hard to remain focused when his ‘eyebrows’ wouldn’t stop moving, but Ranboo did his best. It wasn’t enough for him to understand all that he’d been told, but he doubted he would have been able to even without that distraction.
A text bubble informed him that he’d been given a new mission: ‘New Objective Unlocked: Free the Earth’. Vague as always, but thanks to Charlie’s unsettling explanation, he had an idea of what it meant and how to go about completing it, which was more than he could say about some of his previous objectives.
As soon as that text faded, his list of questions reappeared in front of him, albeit partially changed.
> Is the cave alive?
> What are you?
> Am I dead?
> What will we find if we venture further into the cave?
> … [Exit Dialogue]
His first instinct was to escape that place.
Ranboo knew he was a coward. He’d known ever since the day of Tommy’s trial, when he’d listened to him declare that he’d acted alone and he’d been too scared to step in and admit to his guilt. It was a part of himself he was deeply ashamed of, but he didn’t know how to change it. Every time, resisting the urge to run away from danger became a bit harder instead of becoming easier as he'd been told it would. His heart was growing more fragile with each passing day.
And that place, that village deprived of life and haunted by whatever artifact resided down below, it wasn’t for him. It put him on edge like no place they’d ever visited before. There was nothing he feared more than death, as it was the only thing capable of permanently severing his bond with Tommy and Tubbo.
Even knowing that there was likely to be a way back for him, would the version of him who respawned even still be him? Or would he, as he currently was, disappear for good?
Charlie’s and Sorcerer’s cryptic and ominous spiels certainly hadn’t helped him feel any more at ease. Nor did his dialogue options.
But… perhaps that was what he needed. An occasion to challenge himself, to show his growth, to gain some of the bravery he lacked.
Instead of slamming his hand on the three dots and marching up to the darkness that awaited them further along to prove himself, he decided to take his time to ask one more question.
> What are you?
There was no way a simple slime could know as much as Charlie did. Not only in that world. That thing seemed to know it all, even back where he was from. He knew everyone’s history, and he knew how it was all gonna end. His existence felt eldritch. Not quite godly, but something akin to it.
Charlie’s smile grew tighter. “What a silly question” he admonished, once again sounding as cheery as he had at the start. The glint in his eyes didn’t match his tone at all. “I’m human, of course! I’ve got all two hundred and six thousand bones required!”. He raised his hands and wiggled his fingers to demonstrate. His skin and flesh were somewhat translucent, so it was possible to see the bone constructs below. They looked surprisingly normal compared to everything else he had going on.
And yet, if his claim were true, he had enough bones for one thousand humans.
Did Charlie exist as a single entity that spanned across that many universes? Was that how he knew it all, beginning and end? How many empires had he seen rise and fall? How many times had he emerged from the ground and come face-to-face with Quackity of all people? How many times had he befriended the duck? Could their bond be genuine when he knew all of the other's misdeeds? How many secrets did he hold?
Without a doubt, there was little as terrifying as him.
Knowing that, Ranboo was filled with determination. If he’d survived that conversation, perhaps he could survive a trip below.
Notes:
Charlie my beloved <3
This is not the last we'll see of him. I enjoy writing him far too much to only feature him in here once. He's such an eldritch little guy <3
Also, btw, Ranboo's guess was correct. In my mind, Slime exists across several universes, but not as several entities. He's one single entity that just spans across several realities. And he's constantly expanding to appear in more universes. He's not even a slime in all of them.
Chapter 25: The Descent
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The cave dungeon was different from those they’d traversed thus far.
There were no traps for them to expertly circumvent. The structure of it was rather linear; what few diverging paths existed ended in some empty alcoves with at most some low-value loot buried underneath some foul-smelling sludge (that odor reminded him of New L’Manburg a few days after Doomsday. Decomposition, that’s what it was. Even knowing that, he did his best to ignore that piece of information and pick out what he was interested in while leaving behind the rest). There were no enemies hiding behind every corner, waiting to knock them out. There were no sounds coming from further in either, aside from the occasional rumbling of the ground and that persistent heartbeat that had led them there in the first place.
It was just an odd, dingy, and damp corridor.
Checking small nook after small nook grew boring fast, so much so that, when they breached into a giant underground cavern filled with pillars, ruins of various buildings, and an ominous yet distant lime green glow, he was genuinely ecstatic about it.
His happiness, as it often happened, was incredibly short-lived.
Soon, the thundering footsteps of some kind of beast joined the cavern’s orchestra. Looking around, Ranboo spotted a glow, far paler than the one they had to reach, rushing their way. For a moment, he remained still, not knowing whether that was an obligatory fight like most had been in that universe, or if the one approaching them was a new kind of enemy. Even after he’d spotted the Tommy that had been thrown at them, with his multitude of glowing green eyes covering the entirety of his body, and similarly-colored veins protruding from every inch of engorged skin and muscle they could see, he was unsure.
Thankfully, Bard inadvertently made a decision for them. To soothe his own nerves, he quietly hummed the words of the L’Manburg anthem while gently strumming the chords of his guitar to give himself the right rhythm (because, just like most members of Ranboo’s party, when his main interest was involved, he wanted to be as accurate as possible). Once their enemy was close enough to hear, the music left him stunned in place.
Ranboo knew that the chase wouldn’t be halted for long. They had to run.
So he gestured for Paladin to pick up Bard (who couldn’t run under the best of circumstances, and definitely not if they wanted him to still be able to play the guitar he used as a cane), and he started booking it out of there. Sorcerer was laughing at the whole thing. He mentioned something about how he was impressed that things had managed to develop so much in such a short time. All cryptic bullshit that was useless to them at the moment, and earned him a scorching glare from Cleric. At least, even if he had been busy bragging, he still had the common sense to follow after Ranboo. Cleric hung back, guarding their rear. Ranboo made him cast Shield of Faith on himself, so that he would have an additional level of protection in case their enemy decided to start throwing shit at them. While Rogue rushed forward, likely to keep them from ending up trapped between their pursuer and a dead end. It made sense since he had proven to be the most observant out of them in the past. Still, Ranboo would have been lying if he said he didn’t wish for his darling boy to remain more protected. The last thing he wanted was for something to happen to him.
They tried losing their pursuer by zigzagging between a few thick marble columns they found along their path, only to be left horrified when the likely possessed Tommy smashed through them with ease, remaining entirely unfazed. He didn’t flinch when the sharp stone shards he’d created embedded themselves underneath his skin, nor did he let out any whimper or whine. He was silent, focused. All of his glowing eyes were locked in on them. It wasn’t a heavy stare; there was no expression on his face, no depth to any of his actions. He seemed far more mindless than most common mobs.
Ranboo didn’t know him, nor did he care for him; however, it was impossible for him not to feel somewhat bad for the situation he was in. He wondered if his best friends could have ended up like that, too, had Tommy not been immune to the influence of the Egg, and had Tubbo not had an adverse reaction to it.
They could have been shambling corpses held together by nothing but a desire for more devastation.
Was there anything there left for him to save? Would destroying the artifact free that Tommy from its influence, or would it shatter him? Ranboo didn’t have the luxury to ponder those questions. Not when he had to keep running and directing Bard’s musical attacks just to survive.
Of course, their stamina wasn’t infinite, and the cavern they were in was huge, so, eventually, Ranboo decided that they had to find a place to rest.
He spotted an old well and stopped just a second to put on the Bouncy Boots he’d bought at Charlie’s emporium. Whoever he’d been meant to gift them to would get them slightly used, but it was the only thing he could think to do. He picked up his pace again, hurried along by the sound of walls being demolished not too far behind him, and jumped down. As it had been advertised by both the name as well as the description of the item he was using, he ended up bouncing right back up, and the rush of air on his clothes and hair did make it feel as if he was soaring through the rainy skies with a trident in hand. Wind whizzed past his ears, and he was free. The second bounce was a far tamer experience, pushing him to only about half the height of the first. And, soon, he was still, arms open and ready to catch whoever landed down there.
Rogue began whispering a quick prayer before catching himself, shaking his head, closing his eyes, and jumping down there first. Ranboo was unsure of what to make of that sequence of events. Perhaps he needed to look into his precious boy’s relationship with Lady Prime. Between his cultish upbringing and the small tattoo on his wrist, he’d figured that the answer to the question of whether he was a believer or not had to be rather simple, but perhaps there was more there than met the eye.
Sorcerer was the next to follow. He quirked an eyebrow down at Ranboo, as if to question whether he actually had a plan, or if he’d been acting too impulsively. As if he could judge… the only thing he ever did was follow his every whim! Still, without a word or complaint, he did jump down.
Paladin looked down next. He decided to drop Bard in first, which was a rather smart move. Paladin, while being the shortest among them (seriously, Ranboo couldn’t get over how petite he was; he needed to tease him more about it), was undoubtedly the heaviest. Cleric aside, he was the only one with well-defined muscles. And he was, in general, a bit more stocky than their healer. His build was more similar to that of a piglin or of Ranboo’s Tubbo than that of any of the other Tommys they’d met up to that point.
He must have been thinking the same thing, because, as soon as Cleric reached the well, he pushed him in. Ranboo managed to catch their healer with some help from Sorcerer (something he hadn’t been expecting, but then again, his first party member did have some kind of weird parental issues tied to their healer, so he’d likely acted instinctively due to those). Paladin jumped only after they were all situated and was easily caught by their healer, who hugged him tightly to his chest to ensure his safety, despite having just been pushed down there by him.
Ranboo struggled to suppress a chuckle at the affronted look Sorcerer gave the two of them. He could be such a clingy bastard sometimes…
He couldn’t grant himself that moment of levity, however, not when their enemy was quickly approaching. Spotting a familiar red blood drop icon above him, he pressed it and selected Sorcerer’s Minor Illusion cantrip. A veil of murky water appeared above them. It was nothing but a mirage, but in the dim light of the cave, it ended up being enough to conceal their presence when their enemy looked down there, trying to figure out where they’d gone.
For a few tense moments, it appeared as if that entire ruse had been for nothing. The monstrous Tommy’s many eyes were fixed on them. Ranboo could feel his heartbeat even over that of the cave, and he was certain that there was no way their pursuer wouldn’t notice it too. But then his face slowly disappeared from the opening above them. And then his thundering steps retreated, the chase was interrupted for the time being, as he went back to meandering through those abandoned ruins.
Once their enemy was far enough, and the Minor Illusion above them dissipated, they all let out a sigh of relief.
For a dungeon that had started off as dull as a dungeon could be, that surely had been the closest they’d come to death so far on their journey. Because, while their enemy hadn’t been able to demonstrate the power of his attacks on one of them thanks to Bard’s constant stuns, someone who could crush marble with his bare hands with ease surely could also snap any one of them in half without breaking a sweat.
“What the fuck was that?!” Cleric whisper-yelled, once the coast was clear. “Was that another Tommy? Why did he look like that? What’s going on?” his questions kept coming in quick succession. He was pacing, for as much as the tiny space they were confined to allowed. “How are we even getting out of this well?” he asked, turning toward Ranboo with a mix of confusion, hope, distrust, and frustration. For as hard to read as he could be sometimes, he was incredibly earnest in his anger. With how put-together as he usually looked, it was hard to remember sometimes that he was still, at his core, a Tommy, but in that moment, with that heartbroken and annoyed look he was displaying, Ranboo was left to wonder how he’d ever been able to doubt it.
That outburst made Ranboo wish he could answer more than just one of Cleric’s questions. Still, he did what he could by gesturing to Rogue’s gloves. Smart cookie that he was, his precious boy immediately picked up what he was putting down and eagerly nodded, always happy to make himself useful. “I can climb back up with some rope, and you guys can use that to get out of here” he explained as he approached the side of the well and tested out the grip his new gloves had on the stone. He seemed pretty satisfied with them. Ranboo couldn’t have been happier about his decision to give them to him.
“That doesn’t answer the rest of Cleric’s questions” Paladin pointed out grumpily. Unlike with Ranboo’s other companions, there was nothing charming or adorable about his little pout. Okay… maybe it was a little bit cute, but only because he shared a face with one of Ranboo’s best friends.
Sorcerer chuckled darkly, bringing everyone’s attention to him. Ranboo was somewhat grateful for that distraction, as he hadn’t been given any dialogue options, nor would he have known how to explain their situation when he himself didn’t know much, even if he had. All he knew was what Charlie had told him before, and he had already talked with his party about all of that once he’d left the slime’s emporium. As their leader, he knew he was supposed to have all the answers, but he didn’t. And he didn’t think there would have been a way for him to figure them out even if he’d taken more time on the surface to prepare.
“I’m afraid our dear Player doesn’t know much more than the rest of you” their masked companion teased gleefully. There that nickname was again. Ranboo didn’t get it. It had been a while since he’d last heard it, but every other time he remembered it being accompanied by a flirtatious tone that made him feel far less uneasy about it. This time around, there was none of that playfulness. It was as if Sorcerer, the dumbass he’d gotten to know best out of all of his teammates, had turned into someone completely different. There was an air of power around him that he’d seen only a handful of times before, and, once again, he was reminded that the other was a dangerous predator, and they were all his prey. They were only allowed to stick around for as long as they amused him. Just as quickly as his facade crumbled, he built it back up. He gave them all a cheeky smile and even sent a wink Ranboo’s way. “However, worry not, for I am here!”. That boastful attitude earned him a slap to the back of the head from Cleric that he easily laughed off. “Alright, alright, I’ll keep the fanfare to a minimum. It’s just that I’m afraid I put more of myself at stake here than I originally planned to. The fragment of me that is here is being corrupted, and that may become a problem for us”. It was rare for him to be so open and honest with them. Whatever he’d fucked up, it must have been rather major.
Looking down, Ranboo was surprised to find that Sorcerer’s vague confession had been his cue to speak up. He’d almost been convinced that he’d been stuck in a cut scene. That entire conversation just felt like the kind the creator of that universe seemed to like leaving to his teammates to handle. Not that he could complain, because he did have a mountain of questions and he was eager to have at least one of them answered.
> A fragment of you is here? What does that mean?
> Have you been here before?
> Have you caused that Tommy to become corrupted?
> Are you the one who made the artifact?
> How much time do we have left before that fragment’s corruption becomes a problem for you?
> … [Exit Dialogue]
For as interested as he was in all of that (and he was. He was dying to know all he could about the mechanics of that world. He had a feeling that knowledge would help them along the way), he had to be practical about that. Their situation was precarious, and they’d learned that their time was possibly limited. Keeping all of that in mind, he knew he was left with only one choice.
> How much time do we have left before that fragment’s corruption becomes a problem for you?
Sorcerer shuffled his feet sheepishly while rubbing the back of his neck like a kid who had just been caught stealing cookies from the jar in the kitchen reserved for special occasions only (Ranboo had caught Tubbo’s zombified piglin wearing that same expression after doing that many times. Although he supposed it was hard for the little guy to be stealthy when his exposed bones rattled with every movement he made, and it wasn’t as if he could learn not to do it when his brain was half-rotted, no matter how much his best friend argued otherwise. And, regardless, he was still better behaved than Tommy’s spider. He was certain that the giant crawly fucker put malice in everything it did. Especially stealing food. Every time it sneaked down to the kitchen to do so, it made sure to make eye contact with him and hiss to establish dominance). “Uhm… not very long” he admitted. “The good news is that I will not be a mindless killing machine, even when it happens. The bad news is that I will be entirely cut off from my magic. So… this is probably the last well break we’re getting” he concluded with a small shrug.
That was reassuring.
Well, it wasn’t ideal to know that their next sprint was the last one and they had to make it to their final destination, but he was confident enough in their abilities. Victory wasn’t certain, but it was doable, and he knew he could make do with that. He’d done it before.
Honestly, he was just glad he didn’t have to fight against Sorcerer’s gas clouds again.
Their other teammates seemed somewhat relieved at that confession, too. Especially Bard, who, in the little time he’d had with them, had seemingly grown rather close with Sorcerer. Fighting him was probably the last thing he wanted.
The creator of that universe surprised him by allowing him to ask something else. While their time was limited, knowing that so were the consequences of it running out, reassured him enough for him to feel safe indulging, even if it was with just one more question.
> A fragment of you is here? What does that mean?
> Have you been here before?
> Have you caused that Tommy to become corrupted?
> Are you the one who made the artifact?
> … [Exit Dialogue]
After Sorcerer’s explanation, the first of the options seemed redundant. He was pretty sure that, while he hadn’t understood every detail, he had a good enough grasp on the situation as a whole, and he didn’t need any further clarification in that regard.
Everything else, however, he was curious about. And, maybe, he would even have been allowed to go through the three remaining questions, but he wasn’t that eager to just stand around and waste time. So he went with the one that had a chance of answering them all.
> Have you caused that Tommy to become corrupted?
Sorcerer laughed nervously. “Not exactly” he answered vaguely. Ranboo could tell that he’d been planning to leave it at that, but a scalding glare from Paladin and a nudge from Cleric broke his resolve. “Ugh, fine. Let’s just say that my nature, and, therefore, the nature of the fragment of me that is with that Tommy, doesn’t jive well with the nature of the artifact. They sorta… repel each other. So, yeah, his current state is probably at least partially my fault. Though I’d argue only minimally so. It’s not like there were many alternatives, unless you guys would have preferred to find him dead” the last sentence was accompanied by a pointed look directed at each and every one of them. It was a challenge their masked companion had seen necessary to issue to preserve his honor.
Prideful as always.
Paladin, despite the immense amount of righteous fury that constantly oozed off of him, was the first to concede defeat and back down. “I suppose not” he grumbled.
Meanwhile, Cleric just shrugged. “I don’t care about a version of us we’ve never even met. I’m more upset that you put yourself in danger. You gotta be more careful. Dumbass”. While his words were harsh, they were filled with a disarming amount of fondness. The underlying tenderness was strong enough that it left even Sorcerer somewhat bashful.
Bard rushed to agree with their healer by strumming his guitar while the other spoke, producing a melody that somehow managed to sound disappointed. He wasn’t much of a talker, but he never ran out of creative ways to communicate his feelings effectively, nonetheless.
Rogue was the only one who remained silent, seemingly lost in thought. Or maybe he was just distracted. He was still a Tommy after all, and none of them had the best attention span in Ranboo’s experience.
He chose to click out of the dialogue after that.
They’d cleared up as much as they needed to. And they had a mission to complete, and a teammate’s mistakes to rectify.
Notes:
Sorcerer really did it this time! (Sort of, my poor man really didn't have too many options at his disposal)
Chapter 26: The Book of Revival
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Making it through the rest of the cavern ended up being harder than Ranboo had hoped.
They’d managed to climb out of the well alright, thanks to a few mostly successful dice rolls. Cleric ended up having to carry Bard up the rope with his extra arms, and they’d all had to pull Paladin up because of a truly embarrassingly low acrobatics check, but that aside, Ranboo’s plan to send Rogue ahead with his sticky gloves and whatever rope they had turned out to be a success.
No, the issues had come almost immediately after that.
The closer they got to the artifact, the more intensely the earth would tremble beneath their feet. Running minimized their issues with that (probably because, while doing so, they were spending less time with their feet on the ground). Still, it also attracted the attention of their pursuer faster as it was a louder way for them to travel. And, besides, none of them had the stamina to keep it up for long, even after their short rest. So they’d decided quickly that it was better for them to sneak around and be mindful of their footsteps, but, unfortunately, that often resulted in one or more of them eating dirt in the loudest way possible (why there were piles of empty metal cans strewn around everywhere on that side of the cave he didn’t know).
They still managed to (mostly) get away from the corrupted Tommy unscathed thanks to Bard’s music. However, they’d had a couple of close calls. Cleric had lagged too far behind once and had slipped just out of reach of the anthem that was keeping them all safe. Thankfully, he managed to get out of that sticky situation with a shield and Sorcerer’s help (being out of magic didn’t prevent him from being able to turn himself into an annoying distraction when necessary after all). They’d also incurred some minor injuries because of the debris that went flying any time their pursuer sensed their presence through a wall or spotted them beyond one of the high columns. Ranboo had gotten the worst of that, as a piece of one of the few windows present in that area had lodged itself in one of his legs, and now it burned every time he moved. He could feel it shifting in there, and he had to pray that it had been clean enough that it wouldn’t cause an infection and sturdy enough that it wouldn't clog up his veins with glass.
That entire ordeal was starting to give Ranboo a new understanding of Cleric’s way of seeing the world. Because his relationship with Tommy and Tubbo back in his universe was such a close one, he usually had a neutral-positive stance on all the versions of them they had met so far and would meet going forward (Paladin was an exception to the rule, but that was in big part because he had harmed his precious boy, and also because he was far more of a stickler for the rules than he was used to dealing with). But their healer had raised a valid point: they didn’t know them. They couldn’t trust them. And they couldn’t afford to show compassion to all of them.
Now, the Tommy chasing after them wasn’t one they could fight. Ranboo had tried throwing his fighting stick at the guy just to test out the waters, but the wood had been incinerated before it even reached him. So, melee attacks were a no-go, and they didn’t have anyone left with decent combat magic.
So he couldn’t yet apply the ruthlessness that he’d come to understand as necessary, but he could keep it in mind for their next encounter with a hostile Tommy. As for their pursuer, he just decided that they wouldn’t take him on board, even if destroying the artifact that had him ensnared ended up freeing him from his bloodlust. He had caused enough damage already. Hell, the blood loss from the wound in his leg was starting to make him feel all dizzy, which definitely didn’t help him remain upright when combined with the already unstable terrain they had to traverse.
Despite all of those complications, however, they did manage to reach the altar that held the damned artifact. And, as it turned out, said artifact was an old book titled ‘The Book of Revival’ which had been supposedly authored by XD. The name felt sort of ironic, considering the fact that it had been devouring the life force of the area around it, according to Charlie. He was also confused on how that could stand opposite to Sorcerer’s nature to the point that the two repelled each other, but by that point he had figured out that all the answers he wanted regarding his first ever teammate would be coming in due time through cryptic clues, and asking wouldn’t change that, so he resigned himself to living with that doubt.
Paladin’s and Bard’s reaction to spotting the book was one of pure horror, and that interested him far more.
He knew that Dream in his universe had possessed something of that nature. And he knew he’d used it when Tommy visited him in prison for the last time. That had been the final push Ranboo had needed to make him grow a spine. It had been the straw that broke the camel’s back. After something like that, he couldn’t live with himself anymore knowing that the green bastard could still breathe.
And, well, if he was reading his teammates’ expressions correctly… they had to have gone through something similar, right? Had someone stood up for them as he had for his Tommy? Had their deaths been avenged yet? Did he have to figure out a way to do so himself once their little adventure was over? Was the universe once again making him sympathize with Paladin of all people? Dammit!
There were so many questions that he had for them, but the universe didn’t allow him to voice a single one. So, instead, he tried to reach forward to grab the book and hide it from their sight until they could figure out a way to destroy it. Cleric was quick to stop him, however, before his fingers could so much as brush against the thick leathery exterior of the artifact.
“This feels like a case of a stranger in a white van offering you candy. I have a bad feeling about you touching that thing with your bare hands” he hurriedly explained while squinting his eyes suspiciously at the object.
Ranboo’s first instinct would have been to dismiss his worries as needless motherhenning, but he forced himself to slow down and think about it for a moment. Without the need to touch it, Sorcerer had lost his magic, and the Tommy that had given them chase throughout that cavern had been turned into a mindless killing machine. Maybe remaining cautious of it was a good idea.
Rogue’s gloves also weren’t ideal for dealing with the book. Their sticky nature would have made it impractical in case they needed to quickly discard it to escape their overpowered pursuer.
If only they had some proper armor…
> There is no other way * Grab The Book * [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> Rogue, grab it with your gloves [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> Cleric, do you have any alternative ideas? [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> Sorcerer, do you have any alternative ideas? [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> Paladin, do you have any alternative ideas? [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> Bard, do you have any alternative ideas? [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> Rogue, do you have any alternative ideas? [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
As it looked like, whoever had created that universe was just as stumped as he was.
He knew he wasn’t willing to risk Rogue’s safety for the artifact; he would rather have made his way back out of the cave without completing the mission and escaped on the first ferry that came by. But he was no more interested in being possessed himself.
So he just did what anyone in his position would have done; he chose randomly among his party members and hoped for whoever he landed on to have the magical solution they needed.
> Paladin, do you have any alternative ideas?
As his finger landed on Paladin, he cringed.
His teammate seemed just as surprised to be his first choice. It wasn’t as if anyone could be oblivious enough not to notice the animosity between them after all, less of all one of them. He probably had been expecting Ranboo to rely on either Cleric or Sorcerer, as he often did. And maybe he should have. Had he given his choice any thought at all, he probably would have.
But, then again, sometimes fate could be kind to him, and he was banking on that.
He was informed that he’d gained trust points with both Rogue and Paladin. Although he’d lost some with Sorcerer. And there had been no change with either Cleric or Bard. Overall, he was willing to consider that a victory. And he had a feeling that any choice he would have made would have ended with a similarly divisive result. Also, he couldn’t deny that it was amusing to see his half-masked companion pouting in the corner, clearly unhappy about not being the center of attention for once.
Sometimes, Sorcerer could be so childish… it was a frequent reminder of the fact that he, too, was indeed a Tommy. And, just like Ranboo’s Tommy back home, those guys were often pretty prideful on the surface. He knew better than to take that obvious mask at face value, though, of course. Tubbo had told him that, once upon a time, the blond truly had been just like that. He had been arrogant at times and often a bit presumptuous. He wished he could have met that fearless version of his best friend; unfortunately, by the time their paths crossed, too much had already happened, and he had changed. He couldn’t be certain of the fact that his first-ever teammate had already had a similar character progression; a bit selfishly, he hoped he hadn’t.
After the initial surprise faded, Paladin actually gave his answer some thought. Then, without saying a word, he took off the leather chestplate he’d been wearing and the religious-looking garbs underneath, revealing a mess of clean bandages covering his chest. Ranboo looked away as he untied those, wanting to give the guy some privacy. Just because he didn’t respect him, it didn’t mean he would go out of his way to be a dick to him all the time after all. “If we use these to cover our hands, it should give us at least a small layer of protection from the effects of the book. I doubt it’ll last long, considering the fact that it has affected that other version of us and Sorcerer already at a distance, but I reckon that’s our best shot. Before we try anything, though, we should come up with a way to destroy it. So that we can act with purpose once the clock starts ticking”. His explanation was accompanied by a rustling of clothes that let Ranboo know he was dressing himself up again. He turned around once he couldn’t hear any of that anymore.
The bandages were now in Cleric’s hands. Just as he’d first thought, there was no blood on them, so Paladin hadn’t been hiding a fresh wound from the rest of them. Knowing that brought him more relief than he was willing to admit. He told himself that it would simply have been impractical to run around with an injured teammate, nothing more, nothing less, but, deep down, he knew that an attachment, however minuscule, had formed, and he wasn’t happy about it.
Once again, the universe allowed him to speak.
> Cleric could try to rip it apart
> We could throw it down one of the wells that still have water at the bottom. Paper usually doesn’t mix well with that
> The stick I threw at that Tommy that chased us went up in flames, maybe this book could meet the same fate
> We could bring it outside and ask Charlie to deal with it
> Since the book’s and Sorcerer’s nature repel each other, maybe Sorcerer could reveal what his true nature is and destroy the damn thing [lv. 5 Trust with Sorcerer required to perform this Action]
> We could stab it with something sharpened
> … [Exit Dialogue, May affect your party members’ trust lv]
He knew that Sorcerer didn’t trust him enough for the choice number five, but he did find the implication that there was something big that he was still hiding from them an interesting one. Of course, he’d figured as much already. His first-ever party member was nothing if not an enigma, but receiving further confirmation of that fact from whoever had created that universe couldn’t hurt.
He also did find some amusement in the fact that, for once, taking the coward’s way out and not saying anything had some kind of repercussion. It was rare, and it was a treat.
That said, he didn’t know what the correct answer was.
Stabbing the book probably wouldn’t have done much. It wasn’t a living being; it was a magical object, nothing short of destroying it completely could undo whatever enchantments the world’s most annoying god had put on it (he knew that the XD that had authored that version of the book probably wasn’t his, but that didn’t lessen his disdain for him one bit. Any version of him across every universe could go choke on a rock for all he cared). Actually, knowing XD’s tricks, doing damage to it without finishing the job would likely end up backfiring on them.
Taking the book out of the cavern was also out of the question. They had barely made it on the way there, and they’d been able to take a much-needed break in a well halfway through; they couldn’t do that again. And going around looking for sufficiently wet wells to drown their little problem in had the same issue as a plan. They could stick to the stealth portion of the cave, but the earth kept shaking, and they kept making noise when they fell. It wasn’t safe. And he still didn’t know if he could bring his teammates along when rewinding time or not. He didn’t want to risk it.
That only left them with two options. He looked at Cleric as he carefully wrapped up his invisible hands with the bandages. He knew the guy was strong. He wasn’t the most robust one of them (that title had to go to Paladin despite his embarrassing defeat during their first fight), but he definitely had some decent muscles on him. He could likely tear apart most books… but the outer layer of the one they had to destroy was very thick leather. He doubted there were many humans out there strong enough to sufficiently pulverize that one. Maybe Technoblade could have… but he wasn’t there. And, had he been, he probably wouldn’t have helped them out of a petty desire for revenge.
Ranboo didn’t like it, but there was an obvious answer there. One that wasn’t safe by any stretch of the word, but sounded effective.
> The stick I threw at that Tommy that chased us went up in flames, maybe this book could meet the same fate
As soon as the words left his mouth, he could see uncertainty and fear descend upon his companions. All but Sorcerer, who, as always, seemed vaguely amused if anything. Yeah, it wasn’t hard to tell that he wasn’t normal, even without the universe leaving behind cryptic clues for him to figure out as much.
“… I suppose we could lure him here, and Cleric could get ready to quickly grab the book and throw it at him” Paladin muttered after a few seconds of tense silence. Spoken like a true strategist. One that already had to move soldiers like pawns on a chessboard once upon a time. Given the fact that he’d recognized the Revival Book and that he looked so similar to Ranboo’s Tommy, he probably did during the war of independence.
And, while he didn’t like agreeing with Paladin, there wasn’t much else he could do when the guy was being so damn reasonable.
“It wouldn’t be smart for you all to go lure him here” Cleric pointed out. “Ranboo’s leg is injured, and Bard and Sorcerer struggle to walk even under optimal conditions. They should hang back at least”.
Paladin nodded. Neither of them asked for Ranboo’s opinion, which, as the self-appointed leader of that group, did sting a bit. But they were right enough that he kept himself from whining about it.
Besides, that world allowed him to override their choices anyway. He was presented with a screen that allowed him to select up to five people to send out as baits. The only one in their party he couldn’t choose was Cleric. Still… he wasn’t the type to value pettiness or his own ego above strategy and pragmatism. They were right, they needed to send over people who had a chance at success. And, currently, there were only two who could.
For a fleeting moment, he considered sending Paladin by himself. He didn’t want to put Rogue in even more danger than he had already been in so far. He was afraid of losing him. Any of them dying would have broken him, of course, but he’d come to see Rogue especially as something akin to either a little brother or a son (not having had much experience with familial bonds, he couldn’t be certain of which one). Unfortunately, among them, he was the most agile and the most stealthy. If any of them had a chance, it was him.
He selected Paladin and Rogue quickly, not giving himself the chance to talk himself out of it.
The two of them accepted their role with grim determination.
Although Rogue must have noticed his hesitation, because, before turning to run, he stopped a moment to give Ranboo a hug that he immediately reciprocated. “Don’t worry, I’m pretty good at dealing with people much stronger than me” his sweet boy whispered. It likely had been meant to be reassuring, but it did leave him wondering how many times the poor kid had been in a situation where he’d needed to hone that skill.
Regardless, after giving Rogue a final tight squeeze, he forced himself to let him go.
Their mission wasn’t over; they had to persevere.
Notes:
We got one more chapter to go for this mini-arc! Hope you guys have been enjoying it so far!
That said, there will be some time to wait before I post the next one, because I'm away the first two weeks of August. So the next chapter won't be posted on the 8th, but on the 22nd of August.
Chapter 27: The Broken Boy
Notes:
Now that I'm back, we're back to our regularly scheduled uploads once every two weeks on Friday!
Also, warning on this chapter for mentions of anorexia starting at 'Looking over, Ranboo noticed that what had once been a beast with bubbling flesh' and ending at the end of that paragraph.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Ranboo, Cleric, Bard, and Sorcerer awaited the return of their teammates in complete silence.
Out of the corner of his eye, Ranboo could see the way Bard’s fingers kept twitching, as if itching to strum the strings of his guitar, and yet he refrained from doing so. Even Sorcerer, who usually had an annoying quip for every occasion, seemed lost in thought. Maybe being so close to the object that so strongly opposed his nature was taking more of a toll on him than he’d previously let on, because his quiet demeanor was truly unusual and somewhat disquieting.
Cleric, on the other hand, was the picture of calmness. He wasn’t fidgeting with his bandages or pacing around nervously. He was just standing still near the book, invisible arms positioned so he could make a quick grab of it, and eyes locked on the entrance to the cave. He reminded Ranboo a bit of his Tommy any time a mission came up, and he and Tubbo gathered around their kitchen table to plot. Their expressions were identical. And, knowing the results of said missions, he could only hope for that to be a good omen.
It could have been a minute, just like it could have been a century, when the sound of feet slamming against the unsteady stone beneath them could be heard once more. And it took a moment for Ranboo to recognize it, because anxiety had his heart beating so loud in his chest that it drowned out anything else. But when he did realize that the two sounds were separate, he straightened up and approached the entrance of the cave to try and see how the chase was going.
His leg was still on fire. As a matter of fact, after staying still for so long, the pain had worsened. But he ignored it. They were so close to accomplishing their mission, he couldn’t give up now.
Down the street to their right, the figures of his two teammates and their hulking pursuer were growing closer. He could see a splash of red against one of Paladin’s sleeves. From that distance, it was hard to tell whether the blood was his or someone else’s, but he made a mental note to check in on him later. Rogue didn’t look injured, but he did look extremely fatigued and was starting to slow down.
That wasn’t good.
Quickly, he turned to Cleric and grabbed his attention. The universe wasn’t giving him anything to say, so he made do with his hands. He repeatedly pointed at the book and then at the entrance of the cave, giving their healer a frantic and worried look throughout.
Thankfully, Cleric wasn’t a moron (even if he did have his thoughtless moments), and he picked up what he was putting down quite fast. He grabbed the book, hissing in pain at the contact. Ranboo watched, eyes wide, as steam rose out of the bandages Palading had given their healer. Still, much like he had ignored the pain in his leg in favor of the mission, so did his teammate.
Holding the book tight, Cleric ran out of the cave and toward their friends. “Duck!” he yelled as soon as he’d gotten close enough to make his throw. He’d gotten there just in time, too, because his exhaustion had made Rogue trip, and Paladin, in an attempt at saving him from the fall, had tumbled down with him.
A twenty-sided dice appeared in front of him, and dread settled over him. He pushed it, heart beating in his throat, and watched as it rolled and rolled, teetering between a four and a six for a long moment, before slowly moving one last time and ending on an eleven, which was turned into a twelve thanks to Cleric’s proficiency in athletics.
Would that be enough?
Were they safe?
He didn’t want to look. He didn’t want to know what would happen. But he could do nothing to prevent it. He was frozen in place until the dice disappeared, and then the scene revealed itself to him too quickly for him to turn away from it. The throw was a weak one, and the book didn’t reach their opponent. It did, however, land a couple of steps in front of him, and he mindlessly covered that distance in an instant. As soon as the sole of his shoe met the leather exterior, the entire artifact went up in flames. At the same time, golden fire that moved like feathers in the wind enveloped their pursuer as well.
The hostile Tommy didn’t scream as he burned. He didn’t let out a single sound. His silhouette just collapsed to the ground and remained there even as the golden fire disappeared.
“That was one Hell of a holy sight” Sorcerer murmured, chuckling to himself as if he’d just made a hilarious pun. For as unfunny as his joke had been, it still got a chuckle from Bard, so it was a partial success.
Ignoring his quip, Ranboo limped over to where all of his remaining teammates were. Cleric was busy using a piece of his dress to bandage up Paladin’s arm and ignoring the painful-looking burns he’d sustained, and Rogue was cleaning out his scraped knees and hands as best as he could from the dirt of the street. Not knowing where to begin to help, he pulled out of his inventory some water and food and passed them around.
While he was busy fussing over them and making sure they ate something, the crumpled figure of the previously hostile Tommy sat up with an unsettling creaking of bones. It was like sitting next to Phil while he did his old man stretches again.
Looking over, Ranboo noticed that what had once been a beast with bubbling flesh and an overabundance of eyes was now a teen that couldn’t have been much older than Rogue. His hair was brighter than that of the other Tommys he’d met so far, golden strands shone even in the dim light of the cave. His eyes were icy and empty, underlined by deep dark circles. He looked gaunt, malnourished, probably the reason for the sound from earlier. And even while sitting, Ranboo could tell that he was particularly lanky. Hell, they were probably the same height! But all of that Tommy was bones. Even under the fabric of his too-big black wizard garbs with orange highlights, it was hard to miss the way his knees looked thicker than the rest of his legs.
Ranboo had come to the decision that, even if it turned out that the artifact was entirely to blame for their pursuer’s bloodlust, they wouldn’t take him on board. Several of his teammates had gotten hurt because of him, and so had he. The shard of glass lodged in his leg was still lacerating his flesh further with every movement of his. And yet… seeing him like that made his resolve crumble before he could even voice his intent.
Maybe he was becoming weak.
His entire objective from the beginning had been to get back home as quickly as possible by any means necessary. But how had taking Bard on board helped him achieve that goal? And what about descending into the belly of the earth to destroy that artifact? And, now, rescuing a Tommy who just looked like a bit of a kicked puppy? Was he losing his drive?
No.
No, he still wanted desperately to see his best friends again. He missed them dearly. He missed feeling like he was part of a whole. Like he was a fragment of their soul, too, even if it wasn’t true. Their lives were too entangled for them to ever exist as separate entities again.
But… maybe he had just found a new purpose as well. Something else he wanted to fight for.
Man… morals truly weren’t his strong suit. Why did he have to end up in the role of a hero? Paladin would have been so much better suited for it, as much as he loathed to admit that. He had that seemingly blind faith in justice that was accompanied by a ton of repressed anger, characteristics that often marked the protagonist of adventure-packed stories. Ranboo didn’t have any of that. He was just a clever guy who’d found a way to avoid getting his hands dirty.
Silently, he offered the new Tommy a piece of dried meat. It was from that deer Cleric had hunted down by himself a while back. They’d figured it could last them longer if they smoked it. It wasn’t much, but their reserves had been running a bit low lately. Perhaps, once they were out of the cave, he’d stop one moment by Charlie’s weird emporium and ask him if he knew of any restaurants nearby. They all deserved a warm and nice meal that their healer didn’t have to slave in front of a campfire for.
The newbie’s eyes went wide. He looked startled, as if that was the first act of kindness he’d received in years. Ranboo couldn’t even imagine what he’d gone through.
He noticed his cape twitching slightly on the back. And an odd movement that he noted down, but didn’t investigate any further. He was too tired and too in pain for that. Besides, he had a feeling that it was too early for that reveal. He hadn’t earned any of the kid’s trust yet.
“… thank you…” the new Tommy rasped. His bones creaked again as he reached out for that one measly strip of meat. And again, when he opened his mouth to take a bite. His condition was even more pitiful than the one they’d found Bard in, and he was pretty sure that the musician had actually been on the brink of death, if he hadn’t already crossed that threshold then.
“What are we doing with him?” Cleric asked. He’d already bandaged Paladin up to the best of his abilities and was now taking care of his invisible limbs, which, as it turned out, weren’t so invisible on the inside. So there were now two scorched hands just floating there in front of them with some mostly burned-off bandages hanging off of them. It was a gory sight he could have done without.
“We have to take him somewhere safe” Paladin’s statement came off sounding more like a question than a declaration of intent. For as strong as he usually appeared, he, too, was tired. Ranboo would not have been surprised if his mind was a bit foggy from the pain, nor if he was emotionally exhausted after that little episode both he and Bard had when they’d seen the Revival Book.
It hadn’t been an easy day for any of them.
Rogue frowned. His eyes were fixed on Paladin’s arm. “He hurt you, though…” he mumbled. It sounded a bit childish, maybe because of the tone he’d used. A reminder of his youth for them, and probably a result of almost losing yet again someone he loved, for him. Because, while he didn’t know much about his life before that world, Ranboo had seen enough of his own story to know that war couldn’t have been kind to him. It never was.
That little plea was enough to get Paladin to hesitate, at least for a moment. And, even after, he didn’t argue against Rogue’s statement. He didn’t try to point out that he’d also hurt him when they first met. He didn’t try to explain that everyone deserved a second chance, like all those classic goodies-two-shoes heroes Ranboo had grown up reading about and watching. He just hugged their youngest tight, pressing a hand to the back of Rogue’s head so that he could more comfortably press his face into the nook of his neck. And then he just glanced over at Cleric and him, clearly intending on leaving the decision up to them.
Ranboo looked back at the new Tommy. He’d noticed him flinching at Rogue’s words, and, even now, he looked guilty. The meat was hanging out of his mouth, only half chewed through. His shoulders were slumped down. His eyes were glued to the pavement. If he had a tail, it would have been tucked between his legs, he was certain of that. It was hard for him to feel any anger toward the poor guy.
Besides, the artifact was to blame more than him. Which was to say that he could be pissed at his good old favorite punching bag instead: God. Life could be fair sometimes.
> Would you like to join our party and get out of here? [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> Would you like us to accompany you out of this cave? We should part ways after that [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> Do you have any plans now that you’re free of the mind control? [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> I think we should part ways here [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
> I will let the others choose what to do with you [May affect your party members’ trust lv]
It looked like that time around the universe wasn’t gonna let him get out of making a decision. The ‘Exit Dialogue’ option had appeared underneath the others for just a moment, before being crossed out and replaced by a message that said: ‘Coward. Make a Choice’. That text too soon vanished.
It was kind of funny; usually, he would have agreed with that judgment. It always felt to him like a cheap way out. One he’d hardly ever picked. But, now that he felt the weight of all of his teammates' eyes on him, as well as that of the duty he felt toward the broken teen in front of him… he wished he had that safety net. He didn’t think he knew how to swim without it.
Sorcerer and Bard moved closer to them while he took the time to decide.
Bard plopped himself down next to Paladin, who swiftly dragged him into the hug he was giving Rogue as well. While startled by the quick movement, the musician didn’t seem displeased. Confused, maybe, but he handled it like he did most things, with a shrug and a smile. Man, Ranboo wished he, too, could be so carefree sometimes… maybe without his limbs casually turning into piles of dirt any time he stayed still too long, though.
Sorcerer, meanwhile, went to circle the new Tommy. He was studying him with that degree of intensity that he usually reserved for Ranboo. His gaze was that of a cat ready to pounce. And the kid wasn’t oblivious to it. He had been uncomfortable with the hints of attention he’d been given earlier already, but having someone solely focused on him made him curl in on himself and almost disappear.
Ranboo sighed. Because he couldn’t help being annoying, his first-ever party member had just taken away all the time he’d had to think. He couldn’t bear just leaving that child at his mercy any longer. It would have been excessively cruel. So he looked over the answers properly and genuinely thought about what to do.
His teammates didn’t seem to be leaning toward forgiveness, so for them most of the answers would have likely been correct… but there was only one option that his heart desired.
> Would you like to join our party and get out of here?
He asked that while purposefully looking away from Rogue. After all, his precious boy was the one who’d openly expressed his distaste for the idea of the new Tommy tagging along. He would be the one his response disappointed the most.
The new kid unfurled just enough for one of his eyes to peek out. From the darkness it was buried in, it glowed faintly, making it look bigger and the shock within it more apparent. Of course, someone who seemed so unused to kindness wouldn't have expected him to offer him a helping hand, even after he’d given him some food. If he chose to tag along, there would be a lot of work there to be done for Ranboo to earn his trust, he could tell. But he also could feel that it would be worth it. For him, at least. His other party members were up for debate.
“… you want me around?” the kid’s croaky voice was feeble, hesitant, surprised, and also a bit worried. Who for, Ranboo couldn’t tell. Maybe he regarded himself as a bad omen; he remembered a time when his Tommy had as well. Or maybe he was just afraid of them. He’d seen what they were capable of when he’d been a mindless machine, and maybe he still remembered. He supposed that, to someone so fragile, they could appear intimidating. “… people usually want me gone” he added after a moment, uncovering a bit more of his face, so he could show off a polite smile. It was no doubt a permission. Maybe if he were the one to bring up the option, then their discarding him would be less painful. That was probably along the lines of what he’d been thinking.
The results of Ranboo’s choice were only communicated to him after the boy had spoken. And they were unanimous. Every single party member of his trusted him a little bit more because of his act of mercy. Not even Rogue was upset. Or maybe he was still a bit. He’d gotten quite attached to Paladin in the short time he’d been on the team, after all; he doubted he could forgive any slight against him that quickly. Shy as he may have been, even for a Tommy, he was still protective of those he considered family. But perhaps, despite that, he understood. Maybe he could even see himself in the other teen a bit. Ranboo doubted that either of them had an easy life before they’d come to that world; every piece of evidence he’d collected so far told him they hadn’t.
The tension was cut short by Sorcerer, who saw it fit to give the new Tommy quite the vigorous pat on the back. “Welcome aboard, Warlock! Now, I must insist we quickly get out of here, because this cavern is gonna collapse without that book. That horrid little thing was keeping it unnaturally alive”. Disgust colored his features at the mention of the destroyed artifact. As always, he couldn’t help the theatrics. Although Ranboo did wish that he’d warned them about the threat before he wasted a whole bunch of time on his decision…
Why did he always feel the need to say everything at the last moment?
“We can discuss things further when we’re out of here, then” Paladin was quick to agree and rise to his feet. He wasn’t strong enough to pick up both Bard and Rogue, so he just gathered Ranboo’s precious boy in his arms and nudged the musician toward Cleric.
They were ready in record time, thankfully, because the ceiling started shaking and they had to make a run for it once more.
Notes:
How could Ranboo ever have said no to a young Tommy like that? It's not in his blood. The guy was so best friend-shaped (maybe son-shaped too), he couldn't abandon him!
Chapter 28: The Second Cutscene
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Their journey down in the cave had left them all completely exhausted.
They’d managed to make it out of there in one piece by some kind of miracle, but Ranboo could tell that all of his party members were about ready to collapse right after. All he could do to help them out was to stop by Charlie’s emporium and beg him for a bed. As soon as he did so, he was notified that the ‘Free the Earth’ objective had been completed, and was rewarded with some gold, beds for them to sleep in for free, and a warm meal.
The food was gone quickly. None of them gave themselves the time to appreciate it.
And, as soon as Ranboo’s head hit the pillow, he was out like a light.
He was woken up what felt like only a moment after (although more time had likely passed based on how dark it was outside), when a text bubble he hadn’t seen in a good while appeared behind his eyelids informing him that: ‘You can’t sleep during Cutscenes’. As if what he needed after a tiring day full of stress and big decisions was a ton of pieces of information about his teammates that he couldn’t fully process in his state.
Why was the universe so cruel to him? Did it like to mock him?
He was forced to shove his little pity party to the side when he heard some whispers coming from the corridor and his brain zeroed in on them.
“That looks uncomfortable” Cleric’s quiet comment was the first that reached his ears. Their healer sounded concerned. Enough so that Ranboo wished he could have gone out there and seen what he was talking about for himself. Unfortunately, much like the last time, he wasn’t afforded any visuals on the situation, nor any freedom of movement. He was stuck in his bed, staring into the darkness and waiting for the experience to be over.
Cleric’s words were followed by an ear-piercing shriek that was quickly cut out, probably by their healer himself, who shoved his hands against the mouth of whoever he’d been talking to.
After a few moments of nothing happening (Ranboo had to assume that his other teammates were just that exhausted after their earlier adventure that they didn’t stir one bit, because there was no other way a screech that loud hadn’t woken them up. Weren’t most of them soldiers? Didn’t those types of guys usually rouse at the smallest sign of danger? Maybe they had, and they were just lurking in the darkness like he was…), he heard someone shift their position. Cleric had probably let go of his interlocutor after signaling for them to be quieter.
“How long…?” a croaky voice hesitantly asked. There was only one person in their team who sounded that unused to speaking, and it was their newest acquisition: Warlock.
Once again, Ranboo found himself impressed with his ability to distinguish all of his teammates by their voice alone. The only one of them who sounded vaguely different was Paladin, and that was mainly because it sounded as if he’d trained himself to use a deeper voice than what came naturally to him. All of the others had the exact same accent and very similar cadence. The differences were small; he doubted many would have noticed them. Warlock’s way of speaking was more stilted and mechanical than that of the others. He wasn’t as hesitant as Rogue (though maybe he’d be just as smug when he knew something that nobody else did. He wondered if he’d find it equally endearing), but constant doubts were dripping off of his every word nonetheless. Cleric, meanwhile, was often rather composed. Sorcerer was the only one with the ability to get on his nerves, and he still managed to deal with him swiftly and without raising his voice. He truly embodied the stereotype of the single parent drowning in responsibilities and yet always doing his best to deal with them.
“Long enough to see you struggle” Cleric sternly answered. To an outsider, it would have sounded like a scolding, but to Ranboo, who knew him well by then, the worry underlining his words was obvious. He heard him shift around once again before plopping himself on the floor. He assumed that their healer was now sitting next to Warlock, based on where the younger’s voice had been coming from earlier. “Why would you tie up your-” the rest of his sentence came out too muffled to understand. Ranboo figured that it was now his turn to be silenced.
“Don’t mention them. Please” Warlock’s plea was desperate. Whatever they’d been talking about must have been a sore topic for him. “I… I don’t like remembering that they’re there. They’re a weakness. Wilbur… he tried to teach me how to be strong. He… he didn’t want me cutting mine off like he did his though, so this… this was the best alternative we could come up with”. Ranboo didn’t like what he was hearing one bit. How many of his teammates had been traumatized by the same guy? At least Cleric seemed to have a good relationship with his Wilbur. He may have been the only one of them who did. “I was still too weak to save him. Maybe things wouldn’t be such a mess if I were better. Maybe I wouldn’t have worried you. But I always do. I always ruin everything” his voice quivered with repressed emotions. He was happy they’d taken him on board, because he didn’t know how far he would have made it without anyone to talk to. It sounded like he’d reached his limit months before.
Warlock’s confession was followed by silence.
Ranboo didn’t envy Cleric one bit at that moment. In his place, he wouldn’t have known how to answer either. Warlock was hurting in a way he was familiar with. In a way he’d seen before, when he’d gone to visit Tommy in exile. But, while he’d seen that level of self-hatred already, he didn’t know how to handle it. He didn’t have to when his then-not-yet-friend had been struggling with it, because he’d bounced back from it on his own. His Tommy had handled all of the hard work, and Ranboo had never stopped to consider what would have happened if he hadn’t.
After what felt like an eternity of silence, Cleric finally found his voice again. “Did your Wilbur love you? Did he want what was best for you?”. Ranboo found himself cringing at those questions. Mainly because he’d asked them to his Tommy before, and the answer he’d received had been long and complicated. Back then, he’d taken it as a bunch of excuses. A whole load of word soups that all boiled down to the fact that Wilbur had been hurting at the end of his life, and struggled to show his care because of it. He’d dismissed that kind of reasoning mainly because he didn’t like the guy, admittedly. But, reflecting upon it now that time had passed, he could acknowledge that he’d often shared similar sentiments about his two best friends. Sometimes they lashed out too, and he’d always been understanding of it with them. They’d been through a lot after all.
Had Ranboo just realized that he was a bit of a hypocrite?
Warlock didn’t hesitate like Ranboo’s Tommy had. “Yes”.
He could hear the smile in Cleric’s voice when he spoke up again: “Then, maybe, you should think about honoring that love instead of his words. Because, sometimes, people think they know what’s best when they don’t. Sometimes, even the best of intentions can lead you down some dark paths. And I think he, too, would be happier if, instead of following his mistakes, you took care of yourself. If you stopped hurting yourself and expecting it to make you a better person. Don’t you think so too?”. He was gentle. His words were soothing, even for Ranboo, despite them not being directed at him. It was obvious that it wasn’t the first time he’d had to tackle some difficult topics. He supposed that acquiring that kind of experience was inevitable for a parent; but, if his Wilbur and Phil were anything to go by, not all of them managed to master that skill.
Ranboo wondered if he would have been able to show that amount of tact had Rogue reached out to him about his struggles. Thinking back on the little one-on-one chat they’d had on the ferry there, he wasn’t sure. He’d done his best, but he remembered Rogue’s uncertainty when he’d promised that nothing he learned about him could ever make him leave his side. His words hadn’t reached his boy as well as he’d hoped. Would Cleric have been able to get through to him in his place?
He was supposed to be the leader of their party, just like it was back home, but he was lost. And maybe that was why Paladin refused to acknowledge his authority at every step of the way and instead insisted on looking at their healer for guidance. Maybe he could tell that Ranboo didn’t know what he was doing.
Sometimes he truly felt like he’d always been meant to be a follower and not a leader. Like that was his true nature. But his pride usually didn’t allow his thoughts to linger on those ideas for too long. It protected him from the heartbreak he would have experienced knowing that he wasn’t able to truly provide what his best friends needed. The darkness surrounding him stripped him of that shield, however, and left him to traverse dangerous waters on his own. He didn’t like what lurked there.
His stream of doubts was interrupted by Warlock’s quiet half-agreement: “Maybe. I- I don’t know. I don’t know if I deserve happiness. But… I suppose I could try? For Wilbur?”. While his words were shaky and uncertain, Ranboo could tell that they were a clear sign of progress. He hadn’t known the young teen for long; he’d literally only met him that very same day, but he was proud of him for getting that far. It couldn’t have been easy. “I’d… still prefer it if you didn’t mention them to the others, though. I’m- I’m not ready”.
“Of course not! I’m not an asshole. Your secrets are yours to unveil” Cleric reassured him, sounding affronted at the mere idea of snitching. His loyalty had always been the most Tommy-like trait he had. Well, that and his kindness. As a matter of fact, Ranboo was starting to realize that, in all the ways that mattered, their healer was very similar to his best friend.
When he’d first met Cleric, all the differences between him and his Tommy had jumped to his attention at once. It had been hard for him to look past them. But he was glad he was finally starting to manage doing so. It made his ache for home a tiny bit lighter. He knew it wouldn’t fully go away until he was once more able to laze around in his mansion with his best friends by his side, but his new friends were making it bearable. And that was the best he could have hoped for.
“Now, do you want some help with them? I’m actually pretty good at this kind of stuff!” Cleric boasted after a moment more of silence. This one less tense. They’d likely both been basking in the companionship the other was providing them with.
Ranboo didn’t know what Warlock had answered, because he drifted back to sleep before he could hear it. The part of their conversation the universe had wanted him to listen to must have been over. Part of him was upset about it because, as always, he was a bit of a nosy guy and he’d wanted to know more. But another, for once, bigger part of him was glad about it. He was tired; he needed the rest. And he also fully agreed with Cleric. Everyone in their party had secrets; he doubted that even someone as straight-laced as Paladin was free of them, but it was up to them to decide when to share them. If he could help it, he’d make sure they all kept as much agency as possible.
When he woke up in the morning, he found nothing amiss.
Everyone was behaving as usual.
Sorcerer had shared a room with Bard, and he found the two of them making jokes back and forth when he went to check on them. Most of them were surprisingly unfunny puns. How they’d managed to ruin the best form of humor, only they knew.
Paladin had originally been sharing with Cleric, but he emerged from his room alone, looking sleepier than he had when they’d headed to bed the evening before. He grumbled something about periods and migraines, but Ranboo wasn’t sure what to make of it. Unsurprisingly, Sorcerer’s first thought upon seeing him so irritable had been to tease him about it. More surprisingly, Paladin’s answer had been to punch him in the face. No hesitation. No holding back. He’d gone all out and straight for the jaw. Unfortunately, their resident annoyance seemed to find that extremely amusing. So that was a new dynamic they had to look forward to. Or dread. One of the two.
Rogue had been sleeping in his room and was fine. He looked a bit concerned for Paladin, but also wasn’t courageous enough to go up to him and ask him what was wrong. So, instead, he just stuck to Ranboo’s side while throwing worried glances at his other new favorite teammate. And Ranboo wasn’t at all feeling jealous about it. He did judge his sweet boy a bit for his taste, however. Everyone would have been a better choice when it came to who he could grow close with, so why did it have to be Paladin of all people? Unbelievable. That had to be another way for the universe to mock him.
Warlock originally had been assigned a room for himself. He was the newest of them, so none of them fully trusted him enough to be that vulnerable around him. Or so Ranboo had thought when he’d organized their sleeping arrangements. But come morning, he was proven wrong by him and Cleric emerging from his room with their arms interlocked. It looked like their healer was making an effort to make the younger feel welcomed and appreciated. Perhaps his mom instincts still hadn’t been satiated. Admittedly, while Warlock did look a bit better than he had when they’d just met, he still looked far from fine. One conversation hadn’t been enough to turn his depression around, to no one’s surprise.
Nobody questioned why they were now hanging out, and Ranboo didn’t say anything either. Not that he could have addressed what he’d heard during the night. The universe was hardly ever that merciful. But, for once, he didn’t really want to do so, either.
Their secrets were theirs to keep.
And he trusted that everything would come to light in due time.
Notes:
I know this chapter is quite a bit shorter than usual, but it felt complete as is, and I didn't want to add needless filler just for the sake of the word count. Hope you guys enjoyed it, short and sweet as is!
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