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Tubbo sits at the edge of the world, and wonders what comes next.
This is obviously not the edge of the world, that’s still about a million blocks out in any direction. The edge of Tubbo’s world is a cliff that overlooks the winding river that he and Tommy first sailed down, the little dock over that way they managed to put together one day in case they wanted to ever do it again, and his tree house far up in the canopy.
He could probably get a better view from the tree-house, honestly. Being up here just makes him feel rather cool. It makes Tubbo feel like he’s more than he is and that he’s just another person passing through this world all at once. They don’t know if this world is a new one, not really. There’s evidence that someone - something - might have been here before them, but that could just be one of this world’s quirks, like how everything seems brighter and more alive. It makes Tubbo feel more alive.
He enjoys being up here, gazing over the world and wondering what comes next. He could go exploring with Tommy tomorrow, if he was up for another adventure. He could race Ranboo through the dense parts of the jungle and point and laugh as the lanky bastard gets wrapped up in the vines. Honestly, Ranboo deserves it. He shouldn’t be so goddamn tall and try to live in the bloody jungle and then get annoyed at Tubbo - who’s completely innocent by the way, none of this is his fault - when he gets tangled in the vines.
Speak of the devil, well not the devil, because Ranboo is not evil and does not come from the pits of Literal Hell. More like, speak of the annoying, rich, sometimes kind of cool guy who happens to live just a couple of blocks away. Actually, it’s more like Ranboo built a ugly shack on Tubbo’s dock. Tubbo is not allowed to get rid of the shack. Tubbo sometimes really wants to get rid of the shack.
Tubbo, at this moment, does not get rid of Ranboo’s shack, and continues to enjoy the view. He also pats the ground next to him, hoping Ranboo comes and sits with him. He doesn’t mind if he doesn’t, and if Ranboo actually just wanted to drop something off for him or even push him off the cliff. Both are understandable, he thinks.
Ranboo does not drop something off, and Ranboo does not push him off the cliff. He comes and sits down beside Tubbo, leaning back on his hands. Tubbo spares a glance at his friend. Ranboo’s eyes are closed and there’s a weird, sort of half smile on his face. He doesn’t have that suit jacket on, probably left it behind in the shack. It’s probably the smartest decision Ranboo has made in the time Tubbo’s known him, the afternoon - creeping into early evening - air is sweltering, and even Tubbo felt all hot and yuck climbing up and down his ladder, hoisting a bunch of supplies from the mines up a pulley system he managed to get working.
Actually, he probably won’t need to go mining for a good few days now, which is a plus. Mining is fucking awful. Ranboo’s the only one who likes it, but Ranboo’s weird like that anyway.
There’s a breeze, not one that’s just blowing around hot air and pissing Tubbo off, but one that’s cool and gentle, and blows Tubbo’s fringe into his face. Parrots - and whatever other birds that live in the jungle trees - are calling out to one another, and he watches three come swooping down and around each other with wonder in his eyes. Sue him, he’s still not used to it.
He’s still not used to anything here, really. Everything is cool and interesting and new.
Figuring out stuff is hard, the pulley system was the hardest project so far. And then putting together the tree house was a nightmare, especially the parts that he needed to make bridges to connect one tree to another. Well, that might’ve just been scary with the whole falling to his death and not being able to come back and if he doesn’t place this plank right he is going to Die when he stands on it. What to do with the stuff he gets from the mines and the solo-adventures he sometimes goes on is also pretty hard, turning into a lot of trial and error and wasted resources. Really, he’d do it all again though - maybe mine a bit less copper, now that he thinks about it.
He wants to make plans, huge , massive plans that he’d need well more resources for. Ideas are already forming in his head though, even if he can’t do anything with them for a while. Truly doesn’t even know if they’re even possible yet. Understanding the weird, red stuff that literally glows is also a thing he’d like to do. Though, that’s just hard when the first time he breathed that stuff in he felt like crap and stayed in bed for a couple of days and felt like he was coughing his lungs out for those few days.
He needs to wait, slow down a little. There’s only so much he can do right now.
Tubbo takes to nudging Ranboo’s arm to get his attention again. He opens his eyes, and meets Tubbo’s own the best an Enderman can. Truth be told, Ranboo’s eyes are pretty. One's red, the others green, which is a thing that is only Ranboo’s, ‘cause all the other Endermen have purple eyes that meet yours right when you don’t want them to, which always starts a fight.
“Do you think I could land in the water?”
Ranboo looks at Tubbo, then the water, and back at Tubbo and looks confused. Seriously, this guy, it was a simple question.
Tubbo repeats himself anyway, for Ranboo’s benefit. “Do you think that I could jump off this cliff and land in the river?”
“N- no, no . Tubbo do not even-” Ranboo’s eyes are all wide, and he’s pretty sure there’s a healthy amount of fear in there (good) and Tubbo can’t help but cackle, throwing himself back into the grass and letting it tickle his neck. “ Please do not attempt to jump into the river.”
Ranboo makes that weird ‘vwoop’ noise in the back of his throat, which is half laced with concern and half with frustration when Tubbo rolls his eyes. It makes him want to start laughing again, and it makes him want to squirm. People caring about him? Weird. Strange.
Rightly so, Tubbo ignores that feeling. “How come you’re up here boss man? Don’t you have stuff to be doing, mineshafts that need clearing out?”
Ever since Tubbo revealed that he found a mineshaft, Ranboo was down there all the time. Like the edge of Tubbo’s world, Ranboo mineshaft clears his head. Tubbo thinks. Ranboo might just really, really like mining. Simply, he does not understand how a mineshaft could be relaxing. And Ranboo doesn’t seem to understand how a cliff can be relaxing, so at least it’s fair.
“You’re up here a lot,” he muses, pulling up the grass, “Figured that it might be cool. And- erm- I also broke my pickaxe.”
“Aren’t you like- rich or something?”
“Wha - Okay , just because I have a few more diamonds than you-”
“You’ve got like -” Tubbo tries to do the math in his head. He fails at trying to do the math in his head because he has not been rooting through Ranboo’s chests recently. Ranboo should be grateful, “You’ve got loads more than me!”
“No, I don’t! You keep scamming me out of them.” It’s all lighthearted - at least, Tubbo hopes - and Ranboo pokes him in the gut.
Offended, Tubbo fake-gasps and knocks the top of Ranboo’s arm, careful not to hurt him. “It’s only scamming if the person who’s being scammed isn’t willing -”
Ranboo laughs, loud and bright, pokes him again and then tries to tell Tubbo that is not what scamming is, that’s probably more like theft, and hey, wait a second, are you the one who has been stealing my stuff?
Tubbo will never admit to anything. He will carry his secrets to his grave, and then carry them with him in the afterlife. Up here, on the edge of the world, wouldn’t be such a bad place to go, Tubbo thinks. He does not tell Ranboo that, however, because he has already worried Ranboo enough today. (Worrying Ranboo is actually quite funny, Tubbo has to admit.)
Ranboo flops back into the grass, taking the crown off his head and twirling it in his hands. It’s a new Ranboo thing. Pretty cool though, Ranboo made it all himself, and Tubbo can only imagine how long the tiny details took him. Too long, probably.
The crown finds itself a place on the ground, as Ranboo yawns. Tubbo’s worried about it getting muddy - it’s brand new - but Ranboo simply doesn’t seem to care. Soon enough, there’s a weight on his hand. Tubbo looks down, ready to brush off a spider or place it onto Ranboo’s face. It is not a spider, it’s just Ranboo’s hand resting upon his own.
There’s no reason for him to want to do that, no reason why he should at all. There’s nothing stopping Tubbo from pushing his hand away either.
He loops their fingers together, and doesn’t say anything else.