Chapter Text
Ranboo doesn’t know where he is.
In the grand scheme of things, this was not unusual. It happened more often than he’d like it to actually.
Nevertheless, he was not where he expected to be.
Purple particles whizzed round him. He blinked owlishly. Wiggled his ears. Curled his toes. At his ankles, his tail flipped.
Wherever he was, it was dark. Like super dark. No torches were placed anywhere. A cave, it must be. Water dripped somewhere, slow and steady. He tightened his grip on the object in his hands, fingers curling into wood.
He blinked. He had something in his hand. A worn pickaxe, just barely holding itself together. He also had mob guts over his clothes (gross), and minerals clogging his hotbar. It seemed he’d only stopped (snapped out of it) because he had no room left in his inventory anymore to store things. Lacking anything else to do, he pulled up his comms, hissing quietly at the light.
Ranboo squinted at his dim-but-still-stupidly-bright comms display and silently cursed the world for allowing him to still be in it.
The coordinate read only told him what he already knew, but worse, because it meant it was real.
He had no goddamn clue where he was.
“Alrighty then….” he muttered as he threw cobblestone out of his inventory by the stack. His throat was dry. He cleared it. “This is fine. Whatever.”
He sighed, because the situation demanded it, and he was really very deserving of a nice big sigh that told everybody in the vicinity he was so fucking sick of this shit and could he please go home already. Not that there was anyone around for hundreds of blocks, probably, but it was the thought that counted, and the sentiment made him feel marginally better.
“My life is a curse,” he sang dully to himself as he flicked through his comms. “And existence is a prison. I~m pretty sure god hates me! Hey,” he said to the particles whizzing around his face, which were technically just a result of his pearl which meant he was still technically talking to himself. “What are the chances I was only out for a couple hours?”
The particles said nothing in return, because particles could not talk.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. Pretty low right? Ah, well. Place your bets now people! Five hours? 10? i bet you it’s only been—oh balls.” He leaned into his display screen, humor sobered. He winced deeply. His hand gripped his hair and pulled. “Oh, no, no, no, no, no… That’s. Not good.”
The particles floated solemnly through the air around him.
He was still a bit shocked. Because, because, because , If he was reading his comms correctly, he had been out for nearly two weeks.
“We-ell.” Ranboo said weakly. “Guess we, uh. We better find us a way outta here, huh?” He thought. Then nodded, resolute. “Yep. Yeah, lets, uh, find ourselves a way outta here. Oh, gosh, but-!”
He jumped, swung back to his display screen. He flicked to his messages, trilling concernedly at the amount of unread messages from Tubbo. Yeesh, and from Tommy. Gosh, they’d had to have been worried out of their minds.
Guilt made his movements faster, jerkier. He hastily typed out a message to Tubbo.
You whispered to Tubbo_: hey bee! so sosorry for not repsonding i was a litle out of it lol. ill b ehome soon tell michael hello for me i love u!
With that, he straightened his back and swept away his comms display. He pulled in a breath, squared his shoulders. “Alright. Now, to find a way back.”
Filled with newfound determination, he rubbed his hands together, materialized his pickaxe, and swung down.
He had a family to see.