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A Different Limbo

Summary:

Rubbing out a small amount of pain from the arm wielding his torch with his free hand, Wilson then took to examining whatever it was that he crashed into. A tall, dark structure... Squinting as he leaned close to the material. It looked glassy, and whatever light was close to it certainly wasn't reflecting well. Giving it a light touch, the gentleman's observations were aided by the texture being smooth and glassy, as well. Obsidian? He's no geologist, but this certainly looked the part. Aside from lacking the fiery appearance most other forms of obsidian he's seen...

 

Inspired by: https://www.tumblr.com/mxboxlocks/761276063656640512/ill-defend-this-crackship-with-my-life-it?source=share
^^^^^ GO LOOK AT THIS COOL ARTIST NOWWWW ^^^^^

Notes:

I wanted to write just a short thing for these two but wound up with an entire "first chapter" of sorts. I don't really plan on making a coherent story or even making multiple chapters- this is just for fun!!! But if I do happen to write more, I'll throw them here as other chapters.

Work Text:

While oddities in the Constant can be considered an ironically normal occurrence, there are always some instances that are odder than others. Within a cavern littered with light flowers, a certain scientist wandered through with a football helmet on his head and a backpack for carrying resources. Scouting by himself wasn't the first option that Wilson would have taken, but the lack of available survivors at their base dictated he'd be the only one to trudge through these caverns. With a heavy sigh, Wilson made sure to count his steps as he went further and further into the caverns, ensuring he'd know his way out. "Two hundred thirty-three, two hundred thirty-four..." A brilliant mind such as him always keeps track of these things of things! Just like how someone as genius as him always stays in the light! The stars have seen too many instances of the darkness claiming lives- and the amount of times Wilson had to endure such a fate is no different.

Giving a heavy sigh and readjusting his helmet so it wouldn't sink forward into his vision, the gentleman continued scouting the caves, glancing around him and taking turns wherever the light flowers were most abundant. The more light, the better... Generally speaking, at least. Footsteps echoing through the cold yet oddly empty cave, there was a tinge of peace in Wilson's mind. Counting steps, staying in the light, no hostile entities... These plants could supply a form of food, as well, even if they had an aftertaste comparable to phosphorus. Though right as some of the typical tension in Wilson's body started to fade, the plants began to dim. The scientist gave a swear as the haven of light around him started to go out as if the cave was experiencing nature's form of a power outage.
His legs picked up his pace, trying to dart to whatever flowers were still on as he pulled his backpack off and reached for one of the torches he kept for emergencies. As the lights continued to dim into nothing one after another, Wilson gave a half-breathless 'aha!' as he pulled out his torch- only to smack directly into what felt like some of the hardest stones he'd ever encountered.

The slam into such a hard surface knocked the wind out of him, and worse, made him drop his torch. Eyes going wide with no vision to aid him, Wilson scrambled to search the ground for his torch. "No- Stars, no- not now! Where is it- where-!" He could feel entities in the dark creeping up on him with every passing second. Terrifyingly familiar coldness in his blood as the hissing and chittering of the dark reached for his heart and mind. Hands scraping the floor for feeling any form of wood, Wil felt his heart seize as the air of the cave moved with nothing tangible to spur it. And seconds before he could feel the dark sink into him, the feeling of wood struck his fingertips. "AHA!" He grabbed the base of the torch, making the tip light aflame with skilled practice despite being unable to see what side was meant to be lit. Once the light was alive, the shadows in the corners of his vision darted away.

With those horrors subdued for the time being, the scientist took a startled moment to try and access what he could. First of all, "Ow." His nose felt like it had been struck by a thrown stone... though it was more like he threw himself into stone. His ribs ached from the impact, and his elbows were a bit scuffed from the fall, but he's had worse. Much worse. Nothing was even broken! "Nothing some salve couldn't solve..." Lucky him. Very lucky him. Rubbing out a small amount of pain from the arm wielding his torch with his free hand, Wilson then took to examining whatever it was that he crashed into. A tall, dark structure... Squinting as he leaned close to the material. It looked glassy, and whatever light was close to it certainly wasn't reflecting well. Giving it a light touch, the gentleman's observations were aided by the texture being smooth and glassy, as well. Obsidian? He's no geologist, but this certainly looked the part. Aside from lacking the fiery appearance most other forms of obsidian he's seen...
Wait.
It's not even in the proper environment to form here! And with how smooth it is- how it's formed in these square shapes... How is it being supported from the top? Wouldn't the weight cause those portions to fall and-...

The silence that surrounded Wilson was faintly interrupted by a small crackling sound. Not from his torch, but from the material on top of the structure's base. "Mm?" The way it flickered... Sticks? Why were there sticks here? Holding the torch far enough away to prevent anything else from catching, Wilson dutifully observed the way the sticks were laid out. It certainly looked like they were set up to be lit up. To burn. Just what was the purpose behind this? Wilson slowly looked between his burning torch and the display before him. Well... as much as it could pose a danger, he IS a scientist and all. Knowledge requires curiosity, even if some may call it blindingly stupid! With a little flicker of his own flame on learning something new, Wilson gingerly tilted his torch down to light the sticks. "Don't explode on me."
He watched as the small pieces of wood would catch and slowly spread to each other. And once the flame reached about half the width of the structure's inner base, a flare of color practically flew from the pieces. Wilson winced, taking a couple of startled steps back and expecting some form of danger to leap at him. Instead, he was greeted with the structure gleaming a brilliant purple. Hues of red swirled through it, though it looked nothing like portals he'd seen before. This felt... Unlike anything the Constant would normally hold for him.

A way out? It couldn't be- it's nonsense to even think that. Even so, the idea still nagged Wilson in the back of his mind. "What if...?"

He should be thinking this through more. He should be thinking on why this portal is so drastically differentiated from anything else in the Constant. He should be weighing the dangers of what could possibly be on the other side of this- if there even was anything to begin with. He should be smart about this.
But sometimes, scientists aren't smart. Sometimes, they're foolish. Sometimes, they're rash and act upon humanity's innate desire to discover.
And Wilson is no better than any other human with a curious mind. No better than any other scientist who needs to see it all.

Snuffing his torch for the time being, and thankfully still being in the light with the odd glow and lovely speckles that flittered through the air from the portal, Wilson nearly tripped over himself as he climbed on top of the base of the structure. Standing before the mesmerizing red and purple hues of spinning, his eyes shined with an almost child-like wonder at such a sight. Perhaps it's some strange nostalgia of the first form of trickery by Maxwell's hand? "It feels... Fuzzy... no, blocky...?" Without a second thought to linger, he took one step forward and let the strangely sharp feeling of the portal's flowing energy pass over him...
...
...
...only to fall flat on some cut stone once that sweet, fleeting sensation passed.

Wilson grunted as he hit the ground, groaning as this was already the second time in this whole excursion he'd been slammed into some form of rock. "Ghh... Every place I'm in must love slapstick, huh..." Lifting his head and trying to wipe away some of the dizziness, he found that the hand touching his face... didn't feel right. It almost made him squeak in surprise, thinking that someone else was touching his face! Pulling his hand away and letting that dull pain in his nose simmer on its own, the gentleman found that his familiarly sharp hands were... not that. Not that at all! "What... That's not- not right..." The broad daylight shining above gave a clear vision of his usually slim digits now more like... squares. Blocks. His immediate comparison would be to WX-78, but there were still so many differences that it couldn't be used accurately. Blinking slowly as he attempted to take in his bodily alteration, lifting his head to take in his surroundings brought about even more questions than answers. The ground, the sky, the plants, even the animals he spotted-- all of it- all of it is... blocks! Everywhere, square shapes molded the environment, the very ground he stood upon! And the place he stood wasn't any more reassuring, either! "It looks like something crashed here." The ground was craggy, made of some red stone he'd never seen before... Cut stone was a bit more familiar, but its uniformity was more than strange! And- and the portal?

Looking behind him with the shock of all these unnatural changes, the internal terror of it all only worsened. Broken apart, with some of the blocks of what he could only assume to be obsidian missing and others coated in a glowing purple substance... His way back is gone. Did it ever exist in the first place, or was that just a blind assumption? "The Constant... The others--" Chest tightened, Wilson attempted to find some familiarity to ground himself. Middle of nowhere under mysterious circumstances, check. Left to fend for himself, check. Requirement of food and shelter... Ah, the groaning of his stomach answered a portion of that one. Check. Right. Right, this is just a different form of the Constant. He can handle this. He's still got his items, too! Or, at least, he has his helmet... Though it felt a lot less firm. Like it's solely leather.

The creaking of wood snapped Wilson from his thoughts with a yip as his vision whipped over to what was apparently a blocky chest a short distance away from the ruined portal. A man of squared features similar to the rest of the world looked up from his looting, first with surprise, then with confusion. The man had a respectable goatee with a light blue shirt and dirtied trousers, likely from travel. [Oh, hey.] Wilson stood stunned, unable to think of what to say. The man looked to the chest before him and back to the stranger before him. [Did you... want any of this? I don't need most of it.] More silence. [Uh... Are you... new to the server?] Still nothing. With mutually shared confusion, the man in blue would simply pick up a few items from the chest before him and turn around. Though before taking more than a few steps, Wilson found his voice- though it was blurted out quite suddenly.
"WAIT- UH! Yes! Yes, I am new. Uh." Though trying to scramble more words together to properly communicate, words were lost as soon as they were found. Regardless, the man turned around. He looks unamused, but thankfully a quirked brow makes it known that he's curious about this newcomer. [Alright. If you're new, it's better you come with me.] Though there was a short 'uh-' that tried to jut from his throat, it was quickly cut short. [Look, we'll talk later- or at least walk and talk. It's quite a ways to get back to my place, and daylight is burning.]

"R-right, yes! Alright!" Getting enough focus in his head to put his legs to work- oh, they're heavier than usual- the frazzled gentleman would take careful steps to move onto the grass. The danger of nightfall, too, is familiar territory. All too familiar. At least the grass is softer than stone... albeit still flat. The other man would wait patiently, standing surprisingly still whilst watching this poshly dressed fellow come to him. "I'm- my name is Wilson, by the way. Wilson P. Higgsbury, the gent-"
[Steve.]
"Ah?"
[My name is Steve. Now let's get moving.]
As much as the bluntness was unexpected, Wilson shook it off as just a quirk of being strangers and the time constraints. He was like this, too, when someone would get plopped down in the middle of the day without any understanding of what was going on or what to do. How odd it is... to be on the other end of something that he was always on only one end of. At the very least, it's better to meet another survivor than to meet another hostile being. He's... lucky.
Yes.
Yes, he's lucky.