Chapter Text
Ranboo is in a bed. Which is strange, because that shouldn’t be possible. The bit of grass he’s been stuck on for who knows how long at this point is barely big enough to sit on, much less fit a bed. He reaches out blindly, feeling with his hand, and sure enough there’s sheets, a blanket, a pillow under his head. And he can’t hear water anymore.
Where the hell is he?
Cautiously, he opens his eyes, and he’s met with stone. The whole room is stone except for the bed and a closet that he can see off to the side. It almost looks like a cave. But why is he in a cave? And whose house is this? It can’t be his, unless he’s forgotten that much. Wouldn’t there be something around that looks familiar, though? And nothing here looks like anything that he would own. When he finally sits up, even the bed looks fancier than anything he’d ever own. Which has to mean that this isn’t his bed, and this isn’t his home.
The realization that he’s in a strangers home with no idea how he got there is alarming enough to make him jump out of the bed, but as it is when his body jerks at the fear of getting caught somewhere he definitely shouldn’t be, a soreness deep in his bones makes itself known, and he has to force himself to move gently when he has another realization.
He’s alive. He can feel himself breathing now, which feels strange after not doing for so long. He touches his face, only to pull them back immediately as if he’s been burned. But that can only be a comparison, because there’s no evidence he’s ever been burned at all. His face is smooth, and when he looks down at his hands, there are no scars there, either. He runs his fingers across every piece of exposed skin he can see, and it’s like he’s in a completely new body, with no scratches or marks anywhere.
With shaky hands, he reaches under the front of his shirt and carefully presses his palms against his chest. Nothing. No scratch, no scar, no scab, no rough, textured skin. It’s as if for some reason he’s been given a brand new start, and he doesn’t know why. He shakes his head to himself. He can think about that later. Right now he has other things to worry about.
When he does finally stand, he’s relieved to see that he’s in his own clothes. At the moment, he’s glad he stopped wearing full suits and dressed it down to just nice pants and a nice shirt, because a jacket would definitely be more uncomfortable right now.
He shuffles out of the room, curiously looking around to see if he can find the person who owns the house. If he can explain that he doesn’t know how he got here before they discover him on their own and freak out, maybe they won’t be as mad. He’ll basically be turning himself in. Not that that worked well for him the last time–
Upon further exploration, it’s clear that the entire home has been either built into a pre-existing cave or was dug into the side of a mountain because the ceilings, floors, and walls are all stone, and all the doors are different colored curtains. Except for the front door, which he finds to be a regular door made out of wood. It’s also clear that he’s the only one here at the moment, because he never finds anyone else during his careful wandering around the house. There aren’t even any pictures hanging up to give a hint as to who might live here.
Well, he’s awake, and if he leaves now (after remaking the bed, because that would just be rude to sleep in someone else’s bed and then leave it messy) then maybe the homeowner will never know he was here. And maybe there’s someone he can find who can tell him where he is and maybe how he got there.
The sun is blinding when he steps outside, and really it has been a while since he’s seen the sun. That, and the cave house has absolutely no windows in it, only many different lamps and light fixtures to make sure you can see. It also doesn’t look like he’s anywhere that he would know. Maybe he has been here before and he just doesn’t remember. Wherever he is, it’s a large field, and he can see a few clusters of flowers scattered around. There aren’t any other homes in the immediate vicinity, so he has to guess the homeowner likes to be secluded.
Which isn’t a great thought to have, considering there’s the very real possibility the homeowner themself brought him all the way out here to do who knows what where nobody would see.
He can’t really see any buildings around, either. Is he in any kind of civilization? Maybe he’s close to one. A village, maybe, that he just has to walk to. If he only knew which direction he’s supposed to go. It seems the only option is to just pick one and start walking and hope he makes it somewhere before it gets dark, however long it will take for that to happen. It’s the only thing he can think to do, so he takes a deep breath, picks a direction, and starts walking.
He’s thankful he didn’t wake up in the snow somewhere. He doesn’t have anything to protect against it, and having to walk through inches of it would not be fun. As it is, the grass here comes up to his ankles, his feet only disappearing for a moment until the grass is flattened by his shoes. There aren’t either trees, either, which would be helpful if it starts raining. And now he has a new fear. He’s newly alive, and if it just so happens to rain while he’s out here, he’s done for.
The thought causes him to pick up the pace as much as he can with his legs still feeling sore, and the combination of pain, distracting thoughts, and slightly tall grass makes it to where he almost steps on something. Or, someone? It must be someone, with the way they shout, startling him.
“Hey watch where you’re walking, asshole!”
He immediately freezes in place, looking around for who he almost ran into. For a moment he doesn’t see anything, and then there’s the smallest amount of pressure on his shoe that makes him look down to see the tiniest person he’s ever seen climbing up.
“Oh my god!” he exclaims. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you. Are you okay?”
To his surprise, the small person laughs.
“Wow! Actually apologizing for once. Is today opposite day or something?”
It’s said sarcastically, like this is something he usually doesn’t apologize for, which confuses him. It’s also confusing because the guy says this as if they’ve spoken before, which Ranboo definitely cannot remember. At least he’s managed to get over the embarrassment of asking people who they are over the years, but he’s still caught off guard.
“I-I’m sorry, do I know you?”
The person grunts as he pulls himself to his feet, holding onto Ranboo’s shoelaces to help balance, and it’s now that Ranboo can see what he is. He almost looks like a bug, only about the size of an insect, with blue and white patterned skin, a pair of blue, transparent wings, and tiny antennas on his head. Ranboo definitely can’t remember seeing someone like him before.
Little bug guy scoffs. “Did you hit your head or something? Yeah, you know who–”
He cuts himself off when he finally looks up. Ranboo can just barely make out that he looks confused, so he carefully gets down to be on one knee so they can see each other better. Bug guy seems extra confused by this, and stares at him. “Wait, who the fuck are you?”
Okay, so Ranboo doesn’t know this person. He guesses he was being mistaken for someone else. Another enderman? Are there other endermen here? Anyway, at least he can go through introductions without feeling weird about it. Or weirder than normal.
“I’m Ranboo. I–can you tell me where I am? I don’t, I don’t know what’s going on.”
Somehow, bug guy looks like he doesn’t believe him, and this is apparent by the up and down look he gives, like he’s looking for some hidden trick. It appears he doesn’t find whatever he’s looking before because he pulls back, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Your name is Ranboo?” he asks, like he needs clarification. For what, Ranboo doesn’t know, but he nods. “Huh, guess not all Ranboos are rude as shit.”
“Thanks? I guess?” Ranboo says, equal parts shocked and confused.
“I’m Sneeg,” bug guy finally introduces. “You’re in Origins right now. Or well, the very edge of it at least. Not that many people out here.”
Ranboo racks his brain, trying to see if he’s ever heard of that name before. It doesn’t sound familiar, but maybe he can find out what other places he’s closer to, he can figure out how to get home from here.
“I don’t think I’ve heard of this place before. Where exactly are we in the Greater Esempi?”
Sneeg cocks his head. “Greater–what? Is that where you’re from? Because I’ve never heard of that.”
Ranboo’s stomach drops. Oh god, how far away from home is he that Sneeg doesn’t know what he’s talking about? Maybe there’s a map somewhere he can look at, something where he can point out Snowchester so someone can tell him how to get there. Then again, it wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for the universe to pull a sick joke on him and put him as far away from home as possible after reviving him. It would be just his luck.
Sneeg has continued talking to himself, wondering about where on earth Ranboo is from, but Ranboo is too busy spiraling to hear most of the comments until Sneeg asks “How did you get here?”
“I don’t know.” He admits sheepishly. Sneeg looks at him, unimpressed.
“Like, ‘you were walking around and got here but you didn’t follow any directions’ don’t know or-?”
“I woke up maybe thirty minutes ago in a random house and I can’t remember how I got there.”
With the looks he’s giving him, Sneeg definitely thinks he got blackout drunk and somehow broke into someone’s house. Which Ranboo knows for a fact is something he would never do, for multiple reasons.
“. . .Right. Uh. Okay. Here’s what we’ll do.” At that, Sneeg starts climbing up Ranboo’s pant leg, stopping when he reaches his knee. Now, even closer, Ranboo would guess that he’s probably three inches tall. He pushes at Ranboo’s hand until he flips it over, palm up, and then climbs on. When Ranboo doesn’t do anything, he starts gesturing for Ranboo to pick him up and stand up, which Ranboo does with a start, holding his other hand up to make sure he doesn’t drop him. “I’m gonna take you to talk to someone who should be more help than me, his name is Philza–”
“Phil’s here?” Ranboo interrupts, ears perking up and almost dropping Sneeg. Maybe he’s closer to home than he thought. Maybe Phil was off on some mission somewhere, and Ranboo had managed to be dropped in the same place. He can help fix all of this and get him home. Sneeg looks surprised.
“You know Phil?”
He nods. “Yes, but I haven’t seen him in a long, long time.”
Sneeg throws his arms up in disbelief. “Well, shit, maybe he has something to do with why you’re here. Maybe send him a message and let him know you’re here.”
Oh, right. That sounds like a good idea. He reaches down to his pockets, and is shocked to find that they’re empty. No comm, no totems. . .no books. He doesn’t have any of his memory books.
“I don’t have. . .” He stutters out. Everything he could remember from his life was in those books, all the little details he never wanted to forget. They’re gone.
What has he already lost since waking up that he doesn’t know about?
Surely Phil can help. Phil can help jog his memory, or just tell him things he can’t remember, maybe get Tubbo–
“Damn, it’s like you were literally just picked up and dropped here,” Sneeg says with a whistle, interrupting his thoughts. “Do you have anything with you?”
Ranboo shakes his head. “Just what I’m wearing.”
Sneeg sighs, and then gets a determined look on his face. “Okay, we’ll get that figured out. Hopefully. Let’s just go talk to Phil and see if he can help.”
With Sneeg giving directions from his seat on his hand, Ranboo starts walking deeper into Origins.