- BEEDUO

PILOT

It was a cold, crisp evening, the sharp air scratching at the satyr's throat. He sauntered through the packed snow, hooves tromping along through the wooded scenery. The wind howled through the boy's brunette curls, nipping frosty bites at his eyes and exposed skin. He wasn't sure where he was going, but he knew it was somewhere where he could ease his mind into a serene state.

If only, he thought, he could run farther than the mind could envision, to a place far away that only he could envisage. A place where the sun subsides behind the horizon leisurely. A place of serendipity.

The boy's ears twitched, and his tail jerked up at the aura of reality creeping into his head. He must've zoned out, ceasing in the center of a cluster of spruce trees revolting towards the clouded sun. He had to pause to attain his full consciousness before shaking his head vigorously to awaken his senses. A pitter-patter in the snow northeast to him jostled him awake however, and he spun on his heel with panic.

"Who's there!?" The boy called out, poised in a threatening position. "Show yourself, bastard!"

A shadow seemed to glide through the wooded region surrounding him, seemingly making no noise whatsoever. He started to tremble; was it a mob? But how?

"Tubbo?" A deep voice croaked, yet it was familiar.

Ranboo.

"Ranboo? What the fuck are you doing out here?! You scared the shit out of me!" Tubbo demanded, not caring about how harsh he'd sounded. Ranboo's voice was naturally low and brooding, yet they were completely harmless and gentle. They were very timid for their size, and always cared for Tubbo. That must've been what their business of being here was.

"I just- I didn't mean to- honestly, I-" The taller said, still cowering in the spruce trees. They were obviously threatened by their companion's crude tone, wanting to go back home and hide with their beautiful son, Micheal. Micheal never yelled at them.

Something must've happened.

"I-I'm sorry, I-I'll go. Bye, Tubbo." Before the satyr could interject, he heard the other fazing into another area. Fuck. Tubbo stood alone and cold with the eyes of the stars staring upon him. They had to've been sneering and cackling at his poor decisions, as time ticked much slower than before. He had to get home and fix this.

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Tubbo trotted as fast as he could manage, animals scurrying out of the boy's path. He wasn't sure why Ranboo had taken such offense to the words spoken to them, so he tried to get home as quickly as possible to check on them. Maybe they were worried about where he was, or had another . . . episode.

Either way, he wasn't going to waste any precious minutes. He'd learned that in one of the worst ways possible.

As the mansion faded into view, he had forgotten about the sharp, cold air that had crystallized his lungs. He wasn't thinking about anything but getting back to the house. The sudden realization that he couldn't inhale normally and could only take sharp, piercing breaths was enough to choke him up and force him to fall to his knees without grace. He heaved in the cold air in attempt to breathe normally, but the icy air was too much. Is my saliva going to freeze?? I can't breathe-

"TUBBO, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" Shouted someone from the doorway of the house. They were holding a thick coat, along with hot chocolate and a heating pad slung over their left shoulder. Their expression was a painting of annoyance, sympathy, and pure worry, but there was something else the artist had hidden behind the canvas. There was a color that didn't quite fit in.

All Tubbo could do was tremble a few feet away from the entrance, unable to support himself. Ranboo must've realized, as they ran over to him, dropping everything else occupying their arms. Ranboo's left arm slid under Tubbo's knees, and their right supported his back. Their expression was almost like it was painted over with an off-white now; something didn't sit right.

The moment Tubbo was rested on a couch and a throw was draped over him, the quivering of his lip started to slow down. He could hear the other hustling to obtain all that they'd dropped, and then hasty footsteps towards him. They mumbled something quite inaudible, and starting heating up the pad. Tubbo hadn't realized the coat was already on him. It obviously wasn't his by the significant size of it, and it had two lockets eased into a flapped pocket. There was also a faded slip with cursive writing on it, but it wasn't in english. One locket had a print of their cat, Enderchest, that had been presumed lost recently. They had many people on the lookout for Enderchest, but still hadn't succeeded. The other locket had a small portrait of the two's son, Micheal, which was very rustic and had a minor dent in it. Why would that be?

"Hot chocolate is ready, care for a drink?" A voice spoke, and a shadow of their shape was casted along the floor. He wasn't in the place to speak, so he just held up a thumbs-up. He could see the figure nod, then turn back to a glazed table to grab the "defroster". The taller placed the cup in his hands ever so carefully, molding his hands to grip the cup. They never made eye contact with him, but Tubbo knew nothing else had happened to the blank canvas.

Tubbo was about to speak when, surprisingly, there was a knock at the door. He heard an annoyed sigh, followed by paws being dragged along polished planks. Once the door was opened, the voice of Tommyinnit could be heard speaking to his husband. "Aye, could I come in to check on Tubs? Or are you busy at the moment?" He could hear him ask. "Sure, he's just here on the couch. Hasn't spoken a word." Ranboo mumbled. With that, they went to their room, leaving Tommy in the doorway. "Uhhhh . . . Okay then-" Tommy said aloud, walking over to where Tubbo was sipping on hot chocoa.

"Heeeeyyyy, Tubs!" Tommy spoke, kneeling down to talk to the boy who was now laying down. "Are you okay?" He asked. Tubbo nodded weakly. "I know you can't really speak, but . . . What is up with Boo? He doesn't seem . . . Here. If you know what I mean." He said just barely over a whisper, not risking being heard by the subject of the conversation. "I'm not even sure," Tubbo croaked. "I don't think I did anything that would hurt him. I did use a vulgar tone on him-" Tubbo tried saying, but what cut off with Tommy's alarmed voice. "You did what? Tubbo, you do know they just found out that they might forget everyone they've ever loved and cared for, right?" He spat, brows furrowed with annoyance. He told Tubbo that this happened, and Tubbo even said that he'd leave them be and not be rowdy with them until the trio figures something out.

This is going to be a rough start, isn't it?