Benchtrio's Amazing Guide to City Living | Ft. The Hermits & SBI

The others' story is more hers than theirs

The moment Pearl stepped on the petal, Ranboo knew that something would absolutely go wrong. I mean, you don't just start going over sixty kilometers per hour in a city and expect that everything will go your way– that is simply unheard of! Or, well, not really unheard of because of cocky and overconfident teenagers creating tons of sound pollution on flimsy motorbikes in urban areas. Either bikes or just very, very noisy cars.

Back on subject, going very fast on a road with a lot of cars never ends well. So, with that in mind, while Tommy and Tubbo holler, wide-eyed with excitement at their brains being dragged behind them as they're all dragged forward, Ranboo is clutching on the closest stable object he can find. Thing is that there are no stable objects... Every single one has already abandoned ship, having slid to the back of the van, just one –one– unlucky weight change for the doors to be forced open and the air to suck everyone out of the vehicle.

His fingers find purchase on the netted screen, right beside Tubbo, tail curling around his leg and ears twitching as the van roars with yet another gear change.

"WOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOO"

"YEEEEAH BITCH!"

He can feel his heart thrumming in his eardrums and he is trying to keep calm. If you asked him, he'd say he's doing a fan–fucking–tastic job at it for the situation he's found himself in. He counts his breaths, tells himself that Pearl probably knows what she's doing as she drives towards the magic thundercloud and Xornoth is calm enough to almost convince him that nothing out of the ordinary is happening. That or he just doesn't have a survival instinct... Come to think of it, does he need to worry about a concept such as death? Y'know... since he's a demon and all? Maybe he isn't calm but resigned like he's lived through this a hundred times.

"STEP ON IT, PEARL!"

"NO!", Ranboo's measly pleas go unheard in the ocean that are Tommy and Tubbo's ridiculous amount of urging. So, he shuts up and hangs on for dear life.

Dear fucking God, they're going to die. This is so unfair, Ranboo hasn't even said a formal goodbye to The Blade yet! He hasn't written a will either– where the Hell will his plastic ducks find shelter?!

"OUT OF THE WAY!", Pearl yells with the high-pitch of a psychopath, honking at the other cars who have happened upon her way.

They pass through two crossroads with surprisingly no casualties but a lot of honking horns. Over the three–ish minutes that takes, Ranboo has convinced his heart to stay in his chest and conducted a will in the back of his mind that has as a primary goal the salvation of his secret pasta sauce that is hidden at the very back of Fundy's fridge.

(Stress wouldn't let him keep it in her fridge and their cooler was filled with water bottles so he had to make do with the resources he had left)

Following that is every piece of rip-off Blade merch that survived the explosion. He doesn't know if there is any left of the little figurines or the replica of the Orphan Obliterator but as long as there is an average of four people watching over them at one time.

...How do averages work again?

And right as Ranboo is reciting the theory of averages (if that is what it's called) that Cleo went over not a month ago, all Hell breaks loose.

The long-term honking is as normal as air whistling so that isn't what gives it away. No, no. The thing that gives it away is when Pearl steps on the brake and van swerves to the right. They all scream. 'All' meaning the crowd minus the adults in the front, one of which has put five claws through the screen and the surrounding metal and the other is cursing.

You can guess who the one cursing is, as manic as Pearl acted not two seconds ago. Ranboo thinks it's weird how she can have such spontaneous mood swings but he figures that getting into a car crash will do that to someone.