Chapter Text
Ranboo blinked, his head felt fuzzy and unkept. He held the left side of his head with his left hand, realizing that he was laying down somewhere. And that somewhere was uncomfortable, as he felt multiple things sticking out and hitting his back under him.
His vision was blurry and when he opened his eyes, it was bright. He kept them shut. His body ached, his breathing low and deep. His bones felt heavy. His hair tickled at his ears as he felt a breeze. Was he outside?
A shadow came over his vision, he slowly opened his eyes as his hearing adjusted to what the figure was saying.
“-Oi! Mate are you dead? Cause if you’re dead, that means I have to lug your long fuckin’ body away, and I for one, do not wanna do that,” the person said, a thick Australian accent prominent in their voice. They had blond-ish hair that was more brown at the roots, dark brown eyes and pale-ish-tan skin. They had a slight beard that also made it look like they had a mustache.
Ranboo fully opened his eyes, blinking and attempting to sit up from his quite uncomfortable surface bed that was currently carving into his back. Emphasis on ‘attempting to’ as he could barely move without his back paining him. His face contorted in uncomfort.
“So you are alive! Thank fuck for that!” the strange person exclaimed. “Apologies mate, I just really didn’t want to lug your body away.”
“Wh-who-what?” Ranboo stuttered, attempting to sit up again before falling and surprisingly, the other person helped him.
“Easy there mate,” the strange person told Ranboo, helping him to stand up. “Don’t want to break your back or some shit, unless it’s already broken?”
“I-I’m sure it’s not broken,” Ranboo assured, most likely trying to assure himself rather than the other guy. “It would probably hurt a lot more.”
“Eh maybe,” the person said, shrugging their shoulders as Ranboo stood up all the way.
Ranboo’s vision spun and darkened as he saw a-
A flash-
A flash of red-
He blinked. He was back where the person found him, who was still helping him out.
“Jesus Christ man, how tall are you? It’s like ‘Jack and the Beanstalk’, except you’re the beanstalk,” the person commented.
“I don’t even know my own height,” Ranboo said, the realization hitting him. What did he know about himself? Did he even know himself?
“-and what’s with the creepy metal mask dude? Like it has some weird jagged glowing green lines on the sides.”
“Wait-wha-what? What colour? Jaggad lines? How many-what?” Ranboo responded, stuttering many of the words he spoke.
“Yeah man it’s like a weird metal mask with like two glowing green lines on each side of it. Are you in a fucking cult or some shit?” the person asked.
Ranboo ignored the question, hovered his hands over his face, before gingerly putting them on the mask, seeing the slight glow of the green light that the person was talking about on his hands when he hovered them over the mask. He put his hands down back at his sides.
“You’re pretty fucking weird man,” the person commented.
“Wha-I don’t even know you,” Ranboo said in response with a questioning tone of voice.
“Right, should’a introduced myself. I’m Barry, or Bazza. Doesn’t really matter. Nice to meet ya,’” the man, Bazza, introduced.
“I’m-uh-Ran. . .Boo. Ranboo. It’s nice to meet you too, uh-Bazza,” Ranboo said, introducing himself.
“Ran, can I call ya’ Ran? How’d you end up here man?” Bazza asked.
“Here? What-where exactly is ‘here’?” Ranboo asked in response.
“The Half Dead City you mean?”
“That’s what this place is called?” Ranboo responded. “Wait, why is it called the, ‘Half Dead City’?”
“Yeah basically-uh,” Bazza scratched the back of his neck a bit as he spoke. “It’s because your mum-I’m kidding. It’s because half the city is in shambles and dying, along with its people who’ve become violent as fuck and the other half are the rich fuckers who know capitalism magic or some shit.”
“Are you one of the rich?” Ranboo asked. Bazza laughed in response.
“Nah man, I’m like, poor as balls and in this economy, your either disease ridden or working for the rich,” Bazza commented after he’d finished laughing.
“And you work for the rich?”
“Yep. And my boss, that guy.” He made a swirling motion near the side of his head. “Crazy motherfucker, insane as shit. He barely pays me and when he does it’s not a whole fuckin’ lot. Fuckin’ hate the guy.”
“He sounds like an asshole,” Ranboo commented, shifting from one foot to the other as his hands fidgeted at his sides.
“Yeah right!” Bazza exclaimed, clearly satisfied with Ranboo’s answer. “I wish I could quit yeah, but I’m poor as balls in this damn city, and no other places are hiring with decent pay,” he complained.
Ranboo just nodded in response, finding Bazza’s wording bewildering.
“So what are you doing here man? Besides being passed out in the middle of a damn forest. You’re not on drugs, are you?” Bazza asked, backing away from Ranboo a bit.
“What? Oh-no, no, no, no. I’m not on drugs,” Ranboo replied, racking his brain for an answer. A blank slate. What was he doing? “I don’t even know how I got here or where I was before, everything is a blur.” His ears began to ring again.
“Man that’s shit, don’t even remember your family?” Bazza asked, a forlorn expression on his face.
Ranboo shook his head. Everything was blank, except for the red. What was the red? Who was the red? Where was the red? All he could remember was the red. The flash of red. Everything was a blank slate. Blank was his mind. Who was his family? His friends? What happened to them? What happened to him? Why was he wearing a metal mask? What was wrong with him?
“You good man?” Bazza asked, tapping Ranboo on the shoulder. Ranboo nodded slowly, gradually coming back to reality.
“Ye-Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit. . .confused,” Ranboo mumbled.
“So where are ya’ gonna go on from here, man?”
“I don’t. . .I don’t know. . .” Ranboo whispered. His brain was fuzzy and his head hurt. His ears were still ringing, albeit duly, but still ringing.
“Damn man, that sucks,” Bazza commented. “I would offer to bring you back to my place, however you’d probably die on the way there. Yanno', rom all the undead folks.”
“Why don’t you leave?” Ranboo blurted out.
“What?” Bazza questioned.
“Why don’t. . .you leave?” Ranboo repeated slightly slower than before.
“And why would I do that?” Bazza asked, his tone questioning and slightly annoyed. Australian accent prominent in his voice.
“Why don’t you just more to another city? Find another job? God somewhere else?” Ranboo asked.
“The next city isn’t for over 40 miles, and I don’t own a car,” Bazza explained, as he stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans.
“Then. . .we-we’ll go together. We’ll walk there. O-on foot,” Ranboo suggested. “Well, we could get to the next city, you could find a good job that has a good boss and pays well, an-and I-well-I can try to find what I think I’m searching for?”
“That’s. . .actually not a bad idea,” Bazza complemented, seeming deep in thought. “I mean. . .I really don’t have much here anyway. So. . .why not?”
“Really?” Ranboo said in astonishment, eyes blown wide.
“Yeah, why no,” Bazza shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve got nothin’ to lose.”
“What’d’ya say?” Bazza held out his hand for Ranboo to take.
Well fair audience! Our fair friend Ranboo here has to make a decision! Why don’t you, the audience, make it for him! What should he choose?
- Accept the invitation and go with Bazza to the next city
- Decline the Invitation and find his own way
I’ll let you decide down below!