Chapter Text
So what's your favorite swear word? Do you have any hobbies? I like to get riches and get krissesed."
"Cunt, music, and what the fuck does that mean?" Wilbur said as he listed them out on his fingers.
"It's slang." Tommy stated, as if it was obvious. Wilbur is fairly positive he made the whole thing up.
"Oh yeah? What does it mean? Where's it come from?"
"It means…it means you're a bitch."
Wilbur laughed, it wasn't a long, mouth wide open kind of laugh but still is a laugh. Tommy grinned.
"I made you laugh!" He latched onto Wilbur's arms and bounced up and down,"I made you laugh!"
"So?"
"You never laugh! You never even smile, I nearly thought you were just some cold hearted bitch."
"You weren't even funny, I was laughing at how ridiculous you sounded."
Tommy huffed, "A win's a win in my book." He folded his
arms, still smiling.
-
"...What are you doing?"
Tommy walks into Wilbur's room expecting to find his friend still asleep, but instead discovers nearly the entire floor of the room was covered in sheets of paper. Wilbur sitting in the center of it all.
"Makin' a map."
"A map?"
"Yeah." Wilbur dipped his quill in ink and continued to write in a small, leather book. "Took me ages but I think I got every location on the server. Oh, and don't worry. I took these from Phil, not you." He gestures to the empty maps all around him, his eyes still glued to the journal.
"Oh. I brought soup, it's your f- I hope it's your favorite." It was his Wilbur's favorite, not this one. They're both so very different, yet so very much the same in so many ways. Sometimes it's hard to tell the difference.
Wilbur doesn't notice Tommy's slip of the tongue (thank prime) and tells him to set it to the side. Tommy simply sits where he once standed and places the soup next to him, just out of the door frame.
"So… why are you making a map?"
"Your old one is outdated. The one in the museum, I mean." His Wilbur would have hated the museum.
"And how do you know how to make maps?"
"Geoguesser. And I like history and stuff"
"Geo-what? Par-don?"
"Ah, forgot you guys don't have Geoguesser. It's a game where you try to guess a location anywhere in the world based on clues. I quite like it a lot."
"It sounds quite like shit to me but that's nice that you like it." Wilbur doesn't say anything, probably too engrossed with the map to respond. Engrossed. Wilbur taught him that word, the new Wilbur. Would his own Wilbur teach him that? Or would he be given a task and shooed away again? He doesn't know.
It's almost reminiscent of Pogtopia. How Wilbur would spend hours and hours reviewing war plans and obsessing about Schlatt and Eret and this and that everything at once. He never left his room, sometimes for days at a time. Tommy wasn't sure if he ate much then, if at all.
Now Wilbur is bent over papers once again, completely focused like he'd been in the ravine. The only difference now is the smile gracing his face.
It's a strange familiarity that Tommy's not sure he likes.
Had this Wilbur also fallen to insanity? Or will he? Or is that even a thing with Wilburs, now that the multiverse theory has been confirmed. There's a mountain of questions he'd love to grill out of him but now isn't the time or place for it.
Besides, they haven't had an episode this week. And that's a win in Tommy's book if he's ever seen one.
"Tommy, did you know there's a desert that can snow, even if it's hot out? Come here." He pats the floor next to him. Tommy crawls over, soup now forgotten and looks at the map. The brunet is pointing at Las Nevadas, Quackity's domain.
"Oh, yeah. I've been there. Did you know I'm technically a citizen there?"
"Oh, really?"
"Yeah. Quackity has literally no one there so he's trying to convince people to live there."
Wilbur hums a note in response. He returns to his map and taps excess ink off his quill. It seems he's finally gotten the hang of the thing, Tommy realized as Wilbur neatly writes down notes and locations.
He seems happy.
"So what's your server like?"
"My- Wha-?"
Oh right, this Wilbur is stupid. His own was stupid too. That has to be a running theme in the multiverse. Fortunately, the brunet pieces the puzzle together before Tommy has to say anything.
"Oh, my world. Or planet, whatever. It's alright I guess." Then he turns back to his work. "It's boring compared to here."
"Other than Geoguesser?"
"Other than Geoguesser."