Chapter Text
One of the many things different about this world was the lack of technology, or rather, lack of technology he was familiar with.
There are no phones, wifi, or computers (a shame) here, instead there's a fine red glitter powder called “redstone”. Apparently it's able to function like a circuit board and “make things move and stuff,” as Tommy so delicately puts it.
He had shown it to Wilbur the other day, explaining all the different ways it can be used. It can power large doors, minecart systems, lights and much, much more. Turns out there's an expert on it nearby who made a prison run on the stuff, although the kid didn't seem to want to go there. Wilbur doesn't blame him, prisons are a sucky place.
He eyes the redstone lamp hanging overhead.
Redstone does very much seem to be the electricity of this world, although Wilbur knows for a fact lightning is a thing here. Funny how this world evolved differently to his own.
Wilbur’s hands graze against a small block of redstone in his pocket. He pulls it out.
He may have swiped a bit for himself from Tommy. It isn't stealing if you live with the guy who owns it, right?
The brunet thumbs a piece of it in his hands and watches as it easily crumbles into dust. It's pretty, that's for sure. If he cups his hands and peers into it, he can see the warm shimmery glow it emits.
He was about to wipe his hands clean until a thought springs into his head.
What would it taste like?
Surely someone had to have thought of that before and done it right? Actually eat it? What if it was poisonous? What if red stone is similar to uranium and everyone who's come into contact with it has a lethal dose of radiation? Does radiation even exist here?
Well, it wouldn't hurt to try.
Plus, he is curious about the taste. Something about it seems… edible. Like lava or those pretty rocks they sell at gift shops, something about it looks yummy.
Hopefully he won't get tumors.
Against all better judgment, and the fact that he doesn't give a fuck anymore, he licks the dust.
It's…
Gritty. Crunchy.
And tastes surprisingly acidic, like battery acid but not quite. He swallows it. The after taste isn't bad either. It's actually quite sweet.
Red stone tastes like sour patch kids candy.
…
He licks it again.
“...What the fuck-?”
A hand grabs Wilbur’s hand and rapidly swipes away whatever redstone dust was left.
“I leave for five minutes- five minutes! And you're already getting into shit?! You can't eat redstone! Don't you know that? Fucks sake… that's vile, that's what that is.” Tommy then went on to say something about poison and the horrible taste of it.
Implying that Tommy ate redstone too.
Now that's funny.
“So you're a hypocrite then?”
“Wha-? Hypo-? Shut up, you're the one who ate fucking redstone dipsh-!”
Wilbur tucked his hands back into his pockets and hummed. “How do you know what it tastes like? Hm?”
“Wh-?”
“Exactly. And, for the record, I think it has a wonderful taste.” And to push the point home, he loudly sucks the flat of his palm clean.
Tommy pushes him.“You're gross!” Despite his words, he's smiling too.
It's weird. This is weird, Wilbur determines.
To talk to someone as a normal person, regardless of the topic. It's been so long since he's just, hung out. Chilling. Chill with a friend. Whatever.
And Tommy Innit is his friend isn't he? He's been there for Wilbur since he's gotten to this hell hole. Tommy Innit is a friend. His friend.
A friend, a brother-
He's never had a brother.
He pushes that thought from his mind. It's already too personal, far too personal. It's weird how they both easily fit into a two person puzzle. Not to say he trusts Tommy, just that they get along very, very well. If a stranger saw them both, they'd think they'd known each other for years.
But they don't know each other and it hasn't been years. In fact, today marks six months since he came here.
So it's weird. And Tommy hasn't been telling him the whole picture either. That's not speculation, that's a hard fact.
But he'll find out. He just needs to keep his head in the game.
And stop thinking about her.
And the river. Her beckoning him to the river.
The girl in the river that he put there. That he drowned there.
He must repent.
Repent.
Repent.
Repent.
Repe-
“Wil?”
“Hm?”
“You're spaced out again. Did you hear me?”
“Oh… sorry. What'd you say?”
If Tommy can keep things from Wilbur, Wilbur can too.
“...I said you can't eat redstone, ‘s bad for you. Makes you vomit.” Tommy's silly-goofy mood has dropped to a tense one. Even the soft lighting in the room has turned stale.
Oh. Yikes. He may have to sit on the toilet later. Ugh.
“Anyways I- Ranboo wanted to give you this.”
The blond shoves a red wool blanket into his arms and backs up. He looks put off. Wilbur is too. He looks like he wants to leave. Wilbur does too.
“Gotta go.” Tommy says stiffly, then he does and shuts the door on his way out, leaving Wilbur totally alone.
“...Yes. Bye.”
That was awkward. So awkward. Why is he like this? Tommy has already left! Why bother to say anything?
It reminds him of highschool and college before he dropped out. Of all those stupid social interactions and failed conversations. It's happening all over again.
His fingers fiddled with the blanket in his arms. It's warm to the touch. He never did tell his parents he quit college did he?
It feels like the sun on his back, too much. Too hot, as if it was breathing down his back, making him sweat.
It knows. It knows what you are.
He feels… odd? Off? Weird. Upset?
Murderer.
He settles on off. Emotions are a bitch to figure out.
After a deep breath of air to loosen the knot forming in his throat, he spins around and heads to his room.
Today was going perfectly too.
A shame.
A real fucking shame.