Chapter Text
“Boothill, move!”
“How ’bout ya move?!”
“This is March’s bed! As her best friend, I also have dibs on it! Now, move!”
Boothill huffed when he shifted on March’s bed. He’d rather be somewhere else, preferably in a saloon, but the IPC grunts were hot on his heels. He had nowhere else to hide except in the Express. So, after quickly contacting Dan Heng, he forced his way on the train and explained his situation to the conductor and navigator. Pom-Pom wasn’t too thrilled to see him, finally catching wind of the ranger’s multiple attempts of identity theft in Penacony. However, Himeko, the absolute goddess that she was, let him stay.
Dan Heng had kicked him out of the data bank room, telling him to wait while he worked. So now he was bothering Stelle and March 7th. They showed him devices they got for free from the IPC, but he wasn’t interested. It was IPC technology; it might end up tracking Boothill if he touched it. However, the game they were playing caught his attention, mainly because Stelle was yelling at March for not following what she was saying.
They were all huddled on March’s bed, legs hanging on one side as the three lay vertically. Stelle was in the middle, with her best friend on her left and Boothill on her right. It was uncomfortable, but Boothill had nothing else to do. He was confident he’d get an earful from Pom-Pom if he loitered in the main room.
“But I don’t have anything Elliot would like!” March whined.
“Get the pomegranate from my chest. Aren’t you the one who put it there?”
“Oh, yeah.”
[System Alert. System Alert.]
[WARNING. WARNING. WARNING.]
Boothill blinked, sitting up when he realized the warnings weren’t on Stelle's screen. It was his own system that was alerting him. He held his head with one hand, hissing due to the warnings being too loud.
“What the fudge—”
[BATTERY CRITICALLY LOW.
BATTERY CRITICALLY LOW.
BATTERY CRITICALLY LOW.]
[CONNECT TO A CHARGING PORT IMMEDIATELY.
CONNECT TO A CHARGING PORT IMMEDIATELY.
CONNECT TO A CHARGING PORT IMMEDIATELY.]
“You alright?” Stelle asked, glancing at Boothill with little care.
“—me a charging tube.”
“What?”
“Get me a forkin’ charging tube, Stelle,” Boothill said sternly. “I’m ‘boutta shut down.”
“Crap—” Stelle and March quickly sat up. “Do we have one in the Express?”
“I don’t know!” March looked around in her room. “Maybe Pom-Pom knows? I’ll go get them!”
“Hurry, lass!” Boothill tried to stand up but Stelle forced him down on the bed.
“Don’t move, you should crash on the bed rather than on the floor.”
“I need it now ,” He was clutching March’s duvet with all his might. “None of you know how to forkin’ reboot me if I completely shut down!”
“W-Well, tell me before you do so I can help!”
“You need to—”
[ALERT! ALERT! ALERT! BATTERY IS EMPTY. SHUTTING DOWN IN 10 SECONDS.
CONNECT TO A CHARGING PORT IMMEDIATELY.
PROCEEDING TO ACTIVATE THE EMERGENCY SOS SIGNAL…]
“—Boothill, focus!”
“If I don’t reboot on my own, you need to open my chest. Force electric shock—”
“What?! What if we accidentally fry you?!”
Boothill growled, “Have some fudgin’ common sense! Y’know what? Just get me a forkin’—”
[3
2
1
SYSTEM SHUTTING DOWN.
GOODNIGHT, MR. BOOTHILL.]
“—Boothill? Boothill!”
Stelle’s frantic voice and expression were the last thing he heard and saw before his entire world turned black. He didn’t even feel his body slacking, nor hear the loud thump it made when he fell on the bed.
He was awake and asleep at the same time. He was aware that he had no control of his body. But he wasn’t dead.
It was the same feeling when he first got the body.
🪦🪦🪦
The moment he opened his eyes, he knew he wasn’t in the Express anymore. Well, unless March had decorated her entire room while he was passed out, he was somewhere. Somewhere he didn’t recognize right away but was vaguely familiar. He was in someone else’s bed in someone else’s house.
Boothill sat up, flinging the duvet off of him. Where in tarnation was he?
“... Did we forkin’ stopped somewhere or somethin’?” He asked no one in particular.
Boothill checked his battery power and to his surprise, he was at 1%. However, the little charging icon next to the percentage was visible. He reached behind him and patted around his charging port, finding out that he wasn’t connected to anything.
“What the fork?”
He stood up, tapping on his heart monitor. Still charging at 1%. He closed his chest, deciding he’d deal with it later once he found himself a proper charging station. As long as it’s charging, he’d be fine. For now, his main priority was figuring out where he was and finding the crew.
Looking around, the design of the house kept making him feel like he knew the place. It was small, with only the TV in one corner and a fireplace in the other. He moved to the chests at the edge of the bed. He saw that there were a few steel tools inside the first chest. A pickaxe, an axe, a hoe, and a watering can. Checking to see if his gun was still in its holster, he cursed when he realized it was missing. So he took the axe, gripping the handle tightly.
In the next, there were a few metal bars, chopped pieces of wood, a handful of coals, and… a lot of pomegranate.
Oh, there was a fishing pole too, with a bait already on the hook.
“Who owns this place?” He closed the chest, raising the axe to his shoulder.
Boothill strode over to the TV, feeling for the button to turn it on. He hissed when it did, the sudden bright light hurting his eye. He tried to turn down the volume but it seemed like the audio was stuck at a specific volume.
On the screen, there were two channels to choose from. Since there were no remotes, he thought of just using the same power button. He clicked on the ‘Weather Report’ channel and it worked.
“Welcome to KOZU 5… your number one source for weather, news and entertainment. And now, the weather forecast for tomorrow…
It’s going to be a beautiful, sunny day tomorrow!”
Then it immediately turned off. He never heard of the channel before but then again, he wasn’t a techy guy. He preferred the radio, especially when ignorant broadcasters would broadcast about his recent criminal activities and proclaim they’d take him down. What a joke.
He turned on the TV again, this time choosing the ‘Fortune Teller’ channel. He thought it was weird to have as a channel but then again, he might be on a totally new planet.
“Ah… I sense that a new viewer has joined us. A young man from… Stardew Valley? Welcome, welcome!- ”
Boothill didn’t manage to hear the rest of it. He was soon met with his reflection on the screen, his eyes wide and mouth ajar. Maybe he didn’t hear it correctly. Or maybe he did.
Did that fortune teller say ‘Stardew Valley’?!
No wonder why the place was familiar. It was the same house he saw in Stelle’s game. It was the player’s house. He didn’t… did he? No, no, no, no. He quickly rushed to the door, the ax still in his hand.
Boothill’s breath hitched when he saw the outside. His body imitated the feeling of a shiver when the cold wind hit his metal body. With his free hand, he held on to his hat, afraid it might get blown away. He kicked the door close behind him, whistling as he took in the scenery.
It was a farm. On his left, there was a red barn and a coop, surrounded by a wooden fence. A handful of chickens and cows could be seen, eating the small patches of grass on the ground. In front of him, it seemed like the farmer meticulously hoed and planted different seeds into the ground, with a sprinkler in the middle, and separated each group with a scarecrow. The farm itself was surrounded by giant trees. The sun shone brightly above him and guessing with its position in the sky, it was past noon.
He walked down the porch’s steps, staring at the tilled soil. The seeds were recently planted since there were no signs of sprouting anywhere.
The sounds of the animals and the smell of fresh air and soil were making Boothill feel nostalgic.
On his right, there seemed to be a small stable with a brown horse inside. And a shrine at the far corner of the farm.
And… is that a spirit?
“...” He decided to get closer to the stable first, giving the horse a gentle smile when it raised its head to look at him. The horse didn’t make any sound but lowered its head and Boothill carefully and softly ran his fingers through its mane. It was soft.
Boothill glanced back at the shrine, the spirit still present. He walked over and with each step he took, he realized that the spirit was sitting in the middle of the shrine. The spirit seemed to be an old man, wearing an old-fashioned blue nightgown and sleeping hat.
“Hey,” Boothill called out. “Wake up.”
“Wha-”
The spirit startled awake and fixed his hat. He looked up at Boothill, tired eyes widening in shock upon seeing him.
“You- Who are you? You’re not my grandson.”
Boothill huffed, hand on his hip. “And ya ain’t my gramps. Who are you ?”
The old man looked around and then noticed the axe Boothill was carrying. “Where did you get that? Did you steal it?”
“So what if I did?” The ranger was getting impatient, tapping his foot. “Answer my question.”
“I… I’m the grandfather of the farmer that owns this land. You can call me Grandpa.”
“A’right, I’m callin’ ya Gramps,” Boothill heaved out a sigh. As much as he wanted to get the answers out of him, Boothill had a soft spot for grandparents and old people in general. “And where is this grandson of yours?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Gramps started levitating towards the farmhouse, beckoning for Boothill to follow. “Are you new here?”
“Er, I don’t think ‘new’ is the right word,” The ranger followed, eyes glancing at a cave in the wall. “More like I don’t belong here.”
The spirit stopped and turned around to stare Boothill in the eye, “... I didn’t catch your name.”
Boothill lowered the axe and raised his other hand for a handshake, momentarily forgetting that he was speaking to a ghost. “The name’s Boothill.”
“Boot-” Gramps blinked and tried to shake the ranger’s hand due to politeness, but it went through. “You have my grandson’s name.”
“Oh?” Now that was a surprise. Boothill never encountered someone with the same name before. To be fair, that might be the farmer’s actual name while Boothill was only using it as an alias. That farmer’s parents knew their stuff.
“And you look just like him…” Gramps floated closer, giving the ranger a once-over. “Yet so different. He doesn’t have a metal body.”
“That’s cuz I’m a cyborg, Gramps,” Boothill chuckled. “And like I said, ya ain’t my gramps so there’s no way I’m your grandson.”
“But where could he be?” The spirit sighed, looking around the farm again. “Nobody in this town should be able to see me, nobody normal at least.”
“Ya callin’ me a weirdo?”
“I’m calling you a particular stranger,” Gramps corrected. “Boothill, when you said you don’t belong here, did you mean just not in this particular town or…?”
Boothill shook his head. “Nah, I’m sayin’ I don’t belong here , in this world. Unless you’ve seen people in weird clothing and a floating train, then we have a bigger problem on our hands.”
Gramps crossed his arms, “You’re the first one I’ve seen. And a floating train? I think the townspeople would freak out if they had seen it.”
“Fork.” Boothill cursed, dropping the axe and running both hands down his face in annoyance. “Forkin’ great! What the hell did I do to anger the Aeons and get myself forkin’ trapped here?!”
“Let’s calm down for a bit-”
“No, no, no, I ain’t gonna wait around. I need to find a way out.”
“Boothill-”
Boothill shrugged the spirit off, grabbed the axe, and ran past Gramps. He ran until he couldn’t hear Gramps calling for his name. He took a deep breath and scanned the surroundings. He saw a sign and read that further down the path he was already on would be the town, but if he went up, there would be a bus stop.
So he followed the path up and saw a bus on the road. He quickly ran up to it but found that the bus was damaged.
“Forkin’ hell,” He hissed and was about to kick the ticketing machine in anger but saw a note on it.
The bus to Calico Desert is out of service.
“Tsk, this is useless.”
Boothill checked the rest of the road, trying to find another vehicle however he only saw a tunnel in the distance. He walked in the middle of the road, axe ready in case of anything. If a vehicle were to pass by the tunnel, he could hitch a ride. By force if necessary. It was mostly dark in the tunnel so he felt around the wall.
He almost jumped back when he felt a lockbox. The ranger tried to get it open but it was battery powered. He readied his fingers to turn into a gun but it was stuck.
“This forkin’ body-!” Boothill tried to summon his gun again… Nothing. His fingers didn’t even twitch.
Clicking his tongue, he glanced to his left. There was a large metal fence up against both walls of the tunnel and ceiling. Boothill, in his anger, threw the axe at it, hoping the fence was flimsy enough to axe through.
BOOM.
“Gah-” He covered his face with his arms from the sudden force. It seemed like there was a type of forcefield around the fence, sending things back if an item was thrown at it.
“Boothill, there you are.”
Boothill growled under his breath, balling his hands into fists. He desperately banged on the lockbox, wanting it destroyed, as if his way out was inside it. He felt Gramps’ presence behind him, emitting a soft blue glow on the wall.
The lockbox wasn’t damaged in the slightest.
“... Tell me the way out.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know either.”
The ranger faced the old man and bared his sharp teeth. “What the fudge do you mean you don’t know?!”
Gramps’ eyebrows furrowed in sadness, “Boothill, I don’t even know where you came from. I’m just as confused as you are.”
“There has got to be a way-”
“If there is, it’s not here.”
Boothill’s shoulders dropped. “Then any idea where?”
Gramps floated closer and attempted to place a hand on the ranger’s shoulder. “No, but I will try to ask someone I know. He knows about this valley more than I do. But I’m telling you, son, you wouldn’t find it here, at least not in this town.”
“You sure ‘bout that?” Boothill met the old man’s gaze.
“I know this town like the back of my hand. Let’s go back to the farm, it’s better to talk there.”
Boothill sighed, picking up the discarded axe once more. “Okay.”
They silently walked back to the farm. Boothill could feel Gramps glancing at him every second, wanting to start a conversation. But the ranger wasn’t in the mood for idle chitchat. He wanted ideas and solutions as to how to get out of the town. Upon reaching the house, he sat on the porch’s steps.
“Who’s this friend of yours?”
“Rasmodius. He is the local wizard around here.”
Boothill blinked. “Wizard? Are ya serious?”
“What, are there no wizards where you came from?”
The ranger laughed, crossing his arms as he leaned back. “Think they’re worse than wizards. Ya think this Rasmodius fellow can help us?”
“He’d be more helpful to you than I’d be. How about we visit him tomorrow?”
“Why not now?” Boothill raised a brow.
Gramps crossed his arms, a frown on his lips. “Because it’s getting dark, I don’t want you passing out on the way there or the way back here.”
“Why would I pass out?”
Gramps pinched the bridge of his nose. “Trust me on this one. If my theory would be proven correct by Rasmodius, then I need to look after you.”
“So you do know somethin’.” Boothill glared at the ghost. “Why are ya persistent on keeping me here?”
“Do you think I’m happy that you suddenly showed up and my grandson is nowhere to be found? I don’t have to look for him outside this farm because I can’t feel his presence anywhere .” Gramps snapped at the ranger, concern shown in his eyes. “I can tell you’re a violent person.”
“Ha!” Boothill laughed, leaning forward to stare at the old man, challenge fuming behind his left eye. “If ya ain’t a ghost already I’d throw the axe at your face.”
“Bold words for someone who doesn’t even how to get out of this valley.” Gramps huffed, pointing at the ranger. “I’m the only one who would be willing to help you, Boothill. If Rasmodius doesn’t know how to get you out of here, then all that is left is to do is try and contact… that person.”
“Yer filled with secrets, y’know that? I don’t like it.”
“So are you.” Gramps uncrossed his arms with a defeated sigh. “But that person - He’s hard to reach. That’s why I ask for your help, considering you need mine. You’re a stranger in this place, and I need you to track down that person. He’d be the key to help both of us.”
Boothill closed his eyes and then averted his gaze, staring at the night sky. He was so caught up in his emotions and the desperation to get out that he didn’t even realize that it was indeed late. The farm was dark, only being lit by a few torches that were haphazardly placed.
His head was just filled with questions. Did he really get teleported into the game? Or was this just an elaborate prank of the Nameless? Considering the crew’s ethics, it was unlikely. But why him, of all people? He had no time to be playing the hero in this town if that was the reason he got teleported.
But considering his gun was nowhere to be found and his body wasn’t cooperating with him, he was rendered useless. Given how the axe just got thrown back at him back at the tunnel, it felt like any attempt he would make on his own would be for naught.
“...Tomorrow, yeah?”
“Yes. As soon as you wake up.”
“Well, guess I have no choice,” Boothill stood up and walked up the steps. He stopped at the front door and then he looked over his shoulder. “See ya in the morn’, Gramps.”
However, before he could even try to reach for the door’s handle, his entire vision had darkened. And the last thing he heard was Gramps calling his name.