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WIP #2 FOUR YEARS LATER
Maxwell had always kept her camp further afield than the other survivors.
Wilson never minded making the trek, though. The gentleman scientist—she would always be a gentleman scientist, even now that she no longer identified as a gentleman, for though Warly had introduced her to the term independent scientist it simply didn't feel so familiar and comfortable to her—considered that the trip to each different survivor's personal camp came with its own strong benefits.
Wolfgang and Wigfrid had camps not too far from one another, near a herd of beefalo and a Tallfort respectively; Wolfgang never minded gathering manure or shaving them of their wool, even luring one away to harvest meat and horns on occasion, and would travel over to assist Wigfrid in gathering plenty of meat and eggs from the tallbirds as well. (Not that she usually needed the help.) WX-78 had a camp near one of the deserts, in a place where tumbleweeds often rolled through, with several scoop-shaped walls to catch them; surprising most everyone at first, including WX, Walter had volunteered to stay at WX's camp to take care of it when they weren't around—a common occurrence, honestly, as WX was more prosocial than they would like to admit that often spent their time at other camps, including base camp itself. Willow had a camp directly in the middle of Dragonfly's desert, though not close to the big lizardbug herself, while Woodie actually had a permanent base down in the caves (and had planted a forest of his own down there).
Wickerbottom had a camp near the swamp; Wendy and Abigail had stayed with her from the start, and Wanda had moved in as well after her arrival; Webber didn't camp with them but instead in a nearby forest, a big spider-infested one, almost as far away from base camp as Maxwell was. Wormwood camped in one of the other big forests, one filled with birch trees and, after their green thumb had been there for all of two weeks, filled with flowers and crops growing directly out of the ground as well. The only reason it wasn't equally full of bee boxes was that Warly and Walani also stayed with them; that forest was right up against the water, which let Warly fish and Walani surf as much as they liked, and helping Wormwood with their stuff was more Walani's speed than most other chores—and provided Warly plenty more food for his crock pot to turn into treats for the rest of the survivors.
Maxwell was in yet another forest—practically on top of a worm hole, and with a small graveyard within spitting distance, though not quite so close that she was in danger of being attacked by angry spirits every full moon. It was actually quicker to get to Maxwell's camp via that worm hole, all things considered; the other end of it was about halfway between base camp and Wickerbottom's swamp, and though it was a bit further from Wilson's camp—which was at the edge of a grassy field full of rabbits, as well as nearish to the Pig King's village and its own, different worm hole that led halfway across the map—it cut travel time practically in half. Wilson used it sometimes, usually when she intended to go a little bit mad anyway for nightmare fuel purposes, but sometimes just because.
She didn't mind taking the trip on foot, though. It was a nice walk, there were resources on the way—plenty of grass, twigs, berries (with the occasional gobbler hiding in amongst), and even a meteor field that everyone had been careful to keep away from! And… just seeing Maxwell was nice.
(In Wilson's mental calculations, always meticulous, she had to add conscientiously that Walter also had his own tiny campsite in a small copse of evergreen trees about a ten minute walk from WX's place; Winona had a smallish camp of her own near the Celestial Portal but usually spent her time at base camp, fortifying and upgrading it, or helping out the others at their camps; Wes also spent their time upkeeping the main camp when they weren’t doing everything they could at someone else's camp to help out; and Wortox popped in and out on eir own unknowable, whimsical schedule, presumably with a base somewhere but possibly not, it was hard to tell with em. Wilson made it her job—one of her jobs—to keep track of everyone.)
…That was the thing, though. Wilson kept track of everyone. She paid attention to everyone.
Maxwell rarely got visitors, even now.
Wilson was almost certain Maxwell chalked that up to the idea that the other survivors had not forgiven her for the role she had played in bringing them all (well, most of them) here. The moment that first little group had come through the then-Florid Postern, Wendy and Abigail, Wolfgang, and Wes, and the subject of making more permanent camps had come up, Maxwell had swiftly sequestered herself, and it had been clear how uncomfortable she had been—more uncomfortable than she had seemed with Wilson since that very first (well, second) night, since Wilson had offered her that kebab as a peace offering and an overture towards actual words. More uncomfortable, frankly, than any of the other survivors had seemed with her.
But it was obvious she hadn't been able to credit that, and it had only become more obvious the more of them had shown up. The only people she seemed comfortable with were WX-78, Wormwood, Wortox, Walter, and Wanda… Meaning, those she had absolutely no hand in bringing to the Constant. And Wilson herself, but Wilson was stubborn as a mule (it was one of her better traits!) and went out of her way to be around Maxwell.
For more than one reason.
But other than WX-78, Wormwood, Walter, and occasionally Wortox, no one visited her camp. Not even Winona or Wes anymore. And Wilson hypothesized that that felt to Maxwell like confirmation, but a bit of subtle (and sometimes unsubtle!) asking around led her to a different, much stronger hypothesis, strong enough now to be a theory: They simply gave Maxwell her space because she seemed to want to keep them at that distance. Woodie had tried to razz her about those statues of hers early on and she'd reacted with such tension—not even anger, just pure stiffness and distance—that the woodsman had been avoiding her ever since.
Oh, Maxwell would work with literally any of them, including Woodie—and Winona and Wes, who actually seemed to make her the most uncomfortable—and that was true the other way around, as well. But that wasn't the same as… well, as having a friend. And besides Wilson, the only two people that could possibly be called Maxwell's friends were WX-78, who seemed somehow soothed by the fact that Maxwell had absolutely no expectations of them and vice-versa, and Wormwood, who was everybody's friend in the same delighted crooning way. And Wilson was certain that Maxwell cared deeply for Wendy and Abigail, and they for him, but that none of them really knew how to express it at all.
Wilson couldn't fix things just like that; she doubted it would help if she just came out and tried to say you know everyone likes you, right? that we've all forgiven you? Not when Maxwell wasn't one to bring up those insecurities, ever.
But she did wish that the others had a chance to see the Maxwell that she got to see.
Wilson never minded making the trek, though. The gentleman scientist—she would always be a gentleman scientist, even now that she no longer identified as a gentleman, for though Warly had introduced her to the term independent scientist it simply didn't feel so familiar and comfortable to her—considered that the trip to each different survivor's personal camp came with its own strong benefits.
Wolfgang and Wigfrid had camps not too far from one another, near a herd of beefalo and a Tallfort respectively; Wolfgang never minded gathering manure or shaving them of their wool, even luring one away to harvest meat and horns on occasion, and would travel over to assist Wigfrid in gathering plenty of meat and eggs from the tallbirds as well. (Not that she usually needed the help.) WX-78 had a camp near one of the deserts, in a place where tumbleweeds often rolled through, with several scoop-shaped walls to catch them; surprising most everyone at first, including WX, Walter had volunteered to stay at WX's camp to take care of it when they weren't around—a common occurrence, honestly, as WX was more prosocial than they would like to admit that often spent their time at other camps, including base camp itself. Willow had a camp directly in the middle of Dragonfly's desert, though not close to the big lizardbug herself, while Woodie actually had a permanent base down in the caves (and had planted a forest of his own down there).
Wickerbottom had a camp near the swamp; Wendy and Abigail had stayed with her from the start, and Wanda had moved in as well after her arrival; Webber didn't camp with them but instead in a nearby forest, a big spider-infested one, almost as far away from base camp as Maxwell was. Wormwood camped in one of the other big forests, one filled with birch trees and, after their green thumb had been there for all of two weeks, filled with flowers and crops growing directly out of the ground as well. The only reason it wasn't equally full of bee boxes was that Warly and Walani also stayed with them; that forest was right up against the water, which let Warly fish and Walani surf as much as they liked, and helping Wormwood with their stuff was more Walani's speed than most other chores—and provided Warly plenty more food for his crock pot to turn into treats for the rest of the survivors.
Maxwell was in yet another forest—practically on top of a worm hole, and with a small graveyard within spitting distance, though not quite so close that she was in danger of being attacked by angry spirits every full moon. It was actually quicker to get to Maxwell's camp via that worm hole, all things considered; the other end of it was about halfway between base camp and Wickerbottom's swamp, and though it was a bit further from Wilson's camp—which was at the edge of a grassy field full of rabbits, as well as nearish to the Pig King's village and its own, different worm hole that led halfway across the map—it cut travel time practically in half. Wilson used it sometimes, usually when she intended to go a little bit mad anyway for nightmare fuel purposes, but sometimes just because.
She didn't mind taking the trip on foot, though. It was a nice walk, there were resources on the way—plenty of grass, twigs, berries (with the occasional gobbler hiding in amongst), and even a meteor field that everyone had been careful to keep away from! And… just seeing Maxwell was nice.
(In Wilson's mental calculations, always meticulous, she had to add conscientiously that Walter also had his own tiny campsite in a small copse of evergreen trees about a ten minute walk from WX's place; Winona had a smallish camp of her own near the Celestial Portal but usually spent her time at base camp, fortifying and upgrading it, or helping out the others at their camps; Wes also spent their time upkeeping the main camp when they weren’t doing everything they could at someone else's camp to help out; and Wortox popped in and out on eir own unknowable, whimsical schedule, presumably with a base somewhere but possibly not, it was hard to tell with em. Wilson made it her job—one of her jobs—to keep track of everyone.)
…That was the thing, though. Wilson kept track of everyone. She paid attention to everyone.
Maxwell rarely got visitors, even now.
Wilson was almost certain Maxwell chalked that up to the idea that the other survivors had not forgiven her for the role she had played in bringing them all (well, most of them) here. The moment that first little group had come through the then-Florid Postern, Wendy and Abigail, Wolfgang, and Wes, and the subject of making more permanent camps had come up, Maxwell had swiftly sequestered herself, and it had been clear how uncomfortable she had been—more uncomfortable than she had seemed with Wilson since that very first (well, second) night, since Wilson had offered her that kebab as a peace offering and an overture towards actual words. More uncomfortable, frankly, than any of the other survivors had seemed with her.
But it was obvious she hadn't been able to credit that, and it had only become more obvious the more of them had shown up. The only people she seemed comfortable with were WX-78, Wormwood, Wortox, Walter, and Wanda… Meaning, those she had absolutely no hand in bringing to the Constant. And Wilson herself, but Wilson was stubborn as a mule (it was one of her better traits!) and went out of her way to be around Maxwell.
For more than one reason.
But other than WX-78, Wormwood, Walter, and occasionally Wortox, no one visited her camp. Not even Winona or Wes anymore. And Wilson hypothesized that that felt to Maxwell like confirmation, but a bit of subtle (and sometimes unsubtle!) asking around led her to a different, much stronger hypothesis, strong enough now to be a theory: They simply gave Maxwell her space because she seemed to want to keep them at that distance. Woodie had tried to razz her about those statues of hers early on and she'd reacted with such tension—not even anger, just pure stiffness and distance—that the woodsman had been avoiding her ever since.
Oh, Maxwell would work with literally any of them, including Woodie—and Winona and Wes, who actually seemed to make her the most uncomfortable—and that was true the other way around, as well. But that wasn't the same as… well, as having a friend. And besides Wilson, the only two people that could possibly be called Maxwell's friends were WX-78, who seemed somehow soothed by the fact that Maxwell had absolutely no expectations of them and vice-versa, and Wormwood, who was everybody's friend in the same delighted crooning way. And Wilson was certain that Maxwell cared deeply for Wendy and Abigail, and they for him, but that none of them really knew how to express it at all.
Wilson couldn't fix things just like that; she doubted it would help if she just came out and tried to say you know everyone likes you, right? that we've all forgiven you? Not when Maxwell wasn't one to bring up those insecurities, ever.
But she did wish that the others had a chance to see the Maxwell that she got to see.