Wilbur fucking hated airports. The constant crashing from busy to paralyzed made his headache pound against his skull. The weight of his suitcase dragged behind him on shitty wheels that didn't roll properly. The fabric was old and moth-bitten, and the dark reddish brown having long faded from memories of sun.
The bright white glared at Wilbur, and the overhead lights weren't any more merciful. It was freezing even with his coat wrapped around him. He was starving, but god forbid he spend that much on a bland pretzel.
None of it really mattered though, with the way he could barely contain the excitement in his chest from bubbling over. What was a few hours in a plane to something he'd been dreaming about for years?
"Uh, baggage is that way," Ranboo said from somewhere behind him. Wilbur craned his neck to look where they were gesturing, catching the end of the line at the edge of his vision. He turned, gesturing for Ranboo to follow.
"Where's Tommy?" Wilbur asked, looking around. That kid going missing was something he'd rather avoid at all costs.
"Here," Tommy said, jumping up beside Wilbur. He grinned, holding the straps of his backpack like a kid excited on the first day of school. He followed beside Wilbur, only falling behind him when they stopped to wait in the line.
The long line, to be specific. Another reason Wilbur hated airports.
Ranboo stood behind his two suitcases, bouncing on his heels anxiously. Wilbur clutched his bag over his chest, dragging his suitcase to a stop beside him. Tommy just stuffed his thumbs under his backpack straps, leaning back to look at the ceiling.
Towards the ceiling, anyways. Tommy grinned towards the glass wall that barred the terminals from the drop to the ground floor. He quickly looked away. Wilbur glanced back, finding Ranboo staring intently in the direction Tommy had been. They caught Wilbur's eye and glanced away.
The line moved surprisingly fast with Ranboo and Tommy's mindless chatter in the background. Soon enough, their suitcases were handed off to the tired woman at the counter and they were past security.
At least the terminal was a bit more inviting. The short carpet was practically just felt tiles, and it caught under Wilbur's shoes every so often. He sat down at their terminal, pulling his laptop out of his bag and beckoning the others over.
"So once we get off the plane, we take a train down to here," he said, pointing to a relatively remote train station in L'Manburg. "And after that, we take a cab to our hotel, then-"
"How fucking remote is this place?" Tommy scoffed, pulling his phone from his pocket.
"Closest thing to it is the," Ranboo paused, leaning over to scan the map. "The King Eret Museum. And it's still pretty far away."
Tommy gaped. "Wait, it's not near that quartz palace they dug up a few years ago?"
"Far from it," Ranboo said gravely. They eyed Tommy, who laughed nervously.
Wilbur held a hand over his heart, smiling. "So you do listen to my lessons after all."
Tommy smirked. "Nah, it was in an LNU article."
Wilbur laughed sharply. "Oh, fuck off. You're not reading Las Nevadas articles, because then you probably would think the quartz palace was near the dig site."
Ranboo chuckled under his breath before turning to watch planes arrive from out the window. Beside him, Tommy quickly typed something before shoving headphones over his ears.
And just like that, Wilbur was in some sort of limbo between alone and in company. He pulled out a half read book that Techno had recommended weeks ago. It was a good book; not life changing, but a good story nonetheless.
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YOU ARE READING
Wilbur Soot and The Curse of Death's Carved Crow
FanfictionWilbur never thought he'd actually get to be at a dig site in Old L'Manburg. Much less with two of his students (plus one that wasn't supposed to come, but the past is the past) He also never thought he'd have an Old God hiding in his hotel room.