Fandom Ramblom

HUOHKAY, After chipping away at this for over a month, my Outer Wilds comic is finally done!!

Initially I wanted to do this in two parts, like how many other versions of this beloved Undertale quote have done. But in the middle of thumbnailing the sketch, I thought why not illustrate Hatchling's journey too and I further expanded this project, by a lot hfjdjg

Outer Wilds is such a fantastic game and truly one of a kind, I only hope I did the game justice with this comic I made

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Some artist notes below, if you're interested in reading all of it!

I began this project around early August!

I separated each page to their own canvases so I don't have a ridiculously huge file size. And each canvas has a different name. From the first to the last, their names go: It's you > Nova > Loop > Lonely > Glade > Despite everything.

Glade was actually a really long canvas that I split into two, bc I wanted to experiment with like a vertical scroll thing. So the Glade pages were split into Glade A and Glade B

My favourite page to work on was page 2, the supernova was fun to make, especially with the pointilism brush that CSP had which made it way easier.

Page 4 initially had a way different layout before I settled with this one. As shown below here:

But when I did a second pass, I rearranged the panels and instead decided to illustrate scenes that Hatchling had with the two.

With Solanum, it's learning and translating her texts on the QM. With Prisoner, it's when you discover the truth and after the vision…

For the Gabbro and Hatchling panel, I changed it so that both are at a distance and facing away from the viewer. As like a sort of way to show that Hatchling is having the reality of the situation dawn on them and try to cope with it. I did name this canvas "lonely" for a reason ::)

The temperature dropped as you descended into the crater, which was permanently cast into shadow by the tall pines. It smelled wetter, greener… pine-ier. More alive. Insects gossiped in the undergrowth that managed to eke out an existence in the sparse patches of sunlight. Birds sang from every branch. The crunch of each step turned into more of a scrnch as the soil and gravel under your feet became more damp. Even after everything, the fractally intricate beauty of life on your home world compelled you in a way little else did.

You passed between two towering old trees, which felt a bit like being allowed through a sacred gate of some kind. This place had always brought out those feelings in you, but especially now, after…

You paused and listened. Birds. Insects. The faint shh-shh-shh of tree branches brushing against each other in a faint breeze. The low, whispery sound of a distant flute.

You closed your eyes and the sound abruptly moved to your left. A small smile appeared involuntarily on your lips. You opened your eyes and began to turn circles in place, listening to the deep tones jump from side to side, from close to far and back again, until suddenly the flute sounded like it was right next to you.

You turned and stepped forward to place a hand on the taut edge of the hammock. “Hey, Gabbro.”

To their credit, they seemed entirely unfazed by your abrupt arrival. Both of you had lost your startle responses a long time ago. They lowered their flute and opened their eyes, the lower pair of which crinkled in a slight smile when they saw you. It’d been weeks since you escaped the loop—and the heat death of the universe, somehow—but seeing their actual face and not your own reflection in their visor still filled you with a sense of wonder.

“Oh, hello!” Gabbro said casually. “I thought the acoustics around me were changing unexpectedly. What brings you to my little slice of paradise?”

“Oh, y’know, I figured you’d be here,” you shrugged. Then you grinned, and hoisted your signalscope. “And I cheated.”

“Well, you’re always free to roast a mallow at my campfire,” they replied, bringing the flute back to their lips. And graciously not pointing out that they had asked why, not how, you were here. They were good like that.

You did sit down, cross-legged by the fire, and leaned back to rest your head on Gabbro’s side. Somehow your neck was oriented differently than expected; you realized you were used to assuming this position with a spacesuit and helmet on.

It was weird, being able to feel their actual body instead of the bulk of a spacesuit. The only thing between your skin and theirs was the chunky knit of their sweater. You could feel the shape of their body against you and without thinking, you rolled your head back and forth to map more of it out. On your right, the bony ridge of their lowest ribs, and to your left a soft, squishy expanse that finally met their equally bony hips, at the very edge of the range your neck afforded you. You let your eyes fall closed, enjoying the touch, and the smell of pine trees, and the flute’s slow, thoughtful song.

“Gabbro?”

“Mm?” they hummed without missing a note.

“Do you have any space weed?”

The next note exited the flute offkey and rather explosively, as if perhaps its player had exhaled a surprised laugh directly into the mouthpiece.

“So that’s what brings you to my slice of paradise, huh?” they asked, amused.

You leaned further back, pushing more of your weight against their side. “You know I need to relax.”

“Yeah, you needed to relax about a hundred loops back, buddy. You never asked me about it then. You can handle death by supernova stone-cold sober every day, but one week back home crosses the line?” they teased.

“C’mon, Gabbro,” you rolled your lower eyes. “We both know death by supernova was one of the easiest to handle.”

“Heh. Yeah.” they agreed. “…You do need to relax.”

You didn’t know how to explain why you couldn’t have relaxed in the loop, even to yourself. Rest, sure. You needed that. You’d spent plenty of loops resting at Gabbro’s camp on Giant’s Deep. But the idea of relaxing was intolerably horrifying. Some deep, primal, animal part of you was so terrified and repulsed by the thought that you could never even consider it.

But you weren’t in the loop anymore, and you didn’t come here to think about it. Instead, you latched onto something else they’d said.  “Also, ‘one week’?”

“Two, three weeks, whatever. Nothing wrong with some tasteful hyperbole.”

“Gabbro, it’s been two months.” you said flatly. You kept careful count of the passing days, marking each on the calendar. You had to.

“Oh. Hm. My perception of time might be a bit… loopy.”

“Ugh,” you groaned, lifting your head off their side. You were in no position to call them out for the subtle deflection after your own, so instead you turned to face them with a sly grin. “Sounds to me like you’re ‘relaxing’ too much. And need me to take some off your hands.”

Gabbro heaved a long-suffering sigh and reached for the mesh pocket strapped to their hip. You sat back, satisfied.

The banter was like a cooling balm to your frayed heart and mind. You knew them well enough to know that how much they pretended to put up a fight towards being asked a favor, was directly proportional to how much affection they felt towards that person. You had earned that affection; both of you had. It’d been clawed out of the cracks of a dying universe and clutched to your chest protectively, daring the powers that be to take it from you.

It was nice, having that easy closeness to someone. Once, you’d had that with Hal. Then you took off for your first spaceflight, and a few days later, a completely different person returned in your place, and things just got… complicated. Which was part of the reason why you were here.

You pushed your face into Gabbro’s soft side, grateful for that closeness and savoring it. Their sweater smelled pleasantly of wet earth and campfire smoke, and, if you concentrated, the faintest note of seawater and ceaseless rain. You wondered if it would ever wash out. 

You wondered if any of it would ever wash out.

“Very touchy today, time buddy,” Gabbro observed. You pulled away reluctantly, ears flicking with both embarrassment and irritation towards feeling embarrassed. “Hey, I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

You leaned back in, enjoying the physical contact too much to deny yourself the pleasure. This time, you turned your head to look at them.

Under your watchful gaze they uncapped a small container and crumbled pinches of its contents between their fingertips. To your untrained eye, it looked like dried moss or lichen, though it certainly smelled stronger. They deftly arranged it on a slip of paper laid flat on their chest, then began rolling the paper into a tube, and you were captivated by the movement of their nimble fingers. You realized you wanted more than just the side of your face touching them. You wanted them in their arms.

Gabbro brought the rolled paper to their lips and licked the outer edge so it would stick and stay down, sealing it. Their gaze flicked to you halfway through the motion, meeting your eyes for a heartbeat. You felt a flare of… not lust, exactly. Just a general, breathtaking want to be closer. You looked away, overwhelmed.

“Here you go,” they said, drawing your attention again. “It’s just regular ol’ Timber Hearth weed, if that’s okay with you. One Gabbro-rolled joint, on the house.”

“I guess that’ll have to do,” you said with mock haughtiness, as you sat up. “Thank you.”

They passed you the joint and a small trifold of waterproof matches with a lazy smile. “Enjoy.”

You struck a match and lit the joint cautiously, then leaned back against them once more to bring it to your mouth. Slowly, you inhaled, in what seemed to you like a good deep breath. When you exhaled, you were rewarded by a tiny puff of white smoke for your efforts, and then promptly doubled over coughing.

Gabbro grinned when you recovered enough to glare at them. “Hey, don’t look at me, the first hit is always like that. No shame in it! It happens to us all.”

“How are you supposed to do it?” you complained. 

You brought it to your lips again for another try. Without warning, Gabbro reached over and gently plucked the joint straight from your mouth.

“I’ll show you,” they said, with a note of impishness you only recognized because you knew them so well. You were too stunned to respond, thoroughly distracted by the simple intimacy of that action.

The embers at the end of the joint brightened to a glowing gold as they breathed deeply, then lowered it. They exhaled a thick white cloud that shrouded their entire hammock in a faint haze for a moment before dissipating.

“Stoner,” you muttered, in a tone both derogatory and affectionate. Pointedly, you folded your arms over your chest.

“Now you try,” Gabbro went on cheerfully.

“Why don’t you just take the hits for me, if you’re so good at it?” you shot back.

Gabbro widened just their upper eyes in a non-verbal expression of incredulity and doubt. You shrugged carelessly in a “may as well” gesture.

They blinked an affirmative and took another hit, this time blowing the smoke straight at you. You did halfheartedly try to breathe in as it passed over you, but the idea was so ridiculous you couldn’t really commit to it.

“Yeah, you were right, that sucked,” you conceded. Momentarily defeated, you tipped your head back and watched the campfire’s sparks rise up towards the distant branches before winking out.

An idea did occur to you, then. An idea that, once upon a time, you would mull over and approach from every angle and thoroughly scrutinize until eventually hyping yourself up to finally, actually try it. But that time was long past, and your impulse control had been eaten away to almost nothing after living so long in a reality where actions didn’t have consequences. So, nearly the moment the idea occurred to you, you acted on it.

“Maybe you just need to blow it to me more directly,” you suggested. It was your turn to sound slightly impish. “Like, straight to the mouth. That’d be more effective, right?”

Gabbro gazed at you for a moment, considering the meaning of your words. For a second you began to doubt your earlier confidence. As always, the habit you’d been grappling with for two months resurfaced, the gentlest and most reassuring whisper in your ear, the promise of painless apathy. We’ll just try again next loop.

“Worth a shot,” Gabbro agreed, mercifully pulling you from that line of thinking. “Here, come closer.”

You shuffled closer and stood on your knees to bring your face to a height where you could look down at theirs. You curled your fingers around the edge of the hammock to hold something for balance, unexpectedly apprehensive. Two intertwined revelations occurred to you suddenly: First, that this was a truly new experience, something you didn’t know the consequence of off the top of your head and even better/worse, something you didn’t have any frame of reference for. Second, that the nature of one of, if not the most important relationship you had may be about to change irrevocably. It was terrifying. It was exciting. It was intoxicating. Your heart raced in your chest.

Once more, Gabbro brought the joint to their lips and took a long, deep breath. They kept your eyes on yours for the whole breath, asking a silent question. Under their searching gaze, you felt another flash of that crushing, visceral want, and stared back silent confirmation.

They lowered it and then reached out to cup your face, fingertips skipping over your cheeks before coming to a stop with their thumbs resting on your cheekbones. You could feel the exact moment your brain turned off. Everything just went blank. Involuntarily, all four of your eyes fluttered closed, content to leave your face in their capable hands. They pulled you closer, pulled you in, and you remembered to open your mouth—and their lips brushed yours, met yours—and you ceased to exist. A nebula of blinding sensations remained in your place. The softness against your lips. The gentle, enveloping touch of their hands on your cheeks. Hands that pulled you in and kept you close, kept your lips to theirs. The smoke filling your mouth that you were supposed to breathe. Oh, right. You’d almost forgotten.

You breathed it all in slowly, feeling your lungs fill and your chest expand, and finally broke away to breathe out and up, over your heads. To your dismay, their hands slipped off your cheeks as you pulled away. This time, miraculously, somehow you didn’t cough at all. It had only lasted a few seconds, but what a few seconds it was.

You looked back down at Gabbro, starry-eyed. “Wow.”

“Pretty cool, huh? What do—”

“Can we do it again?”

They smiled and took another hit. You didn’t need their hand to guide you this time; the second the joint left their mouth, you were leaning in to replace it. You pressed your lips to theirs, so hastily that they hadn’t begun breathing out yet and for a split second, you really were just kissing. They made a faint noise of surprise under you, a noise you felt more than heard. Then, ever-so-gently, their free hand came up to cup your chin, as if to hold you steady.

You filled your lungs and hesitated, loathe to pull away. It felt so good to be touching like this, to be so close. But the pressure in your chest was too uncomfortable to bear for long, so you leaned back and exhaled a long plume of white smoke once more. This one did tickle your throat on the way out and you turned away to cough. Somehow, Gabbro’s hand had ended up on your shoulder. You quietly cherished the reassuring weight of it.

When the fit subsided, you turned back to face them and laid your arm on their stomach to hide your face in the crook of it, giggling. Their sweater was so soft.

“Wow, is it hitting that fast?” Gabbro asked. Their hand fell to your forearm, where their fingers curled around it casually.

You peered up at them from their sweater, still smiling. You shook your head. “You know that’s not why I’m laughing.”

Did you know why you were laughing? Simply put, you were giggling with pure glee. Joy from the closeness, the physical touch, the incomparable vibrancy of a truly, completely new experience, the warmth of such deep, mutual trust. Joy from having this, right here, right now, after everything. Joy from the absurdity of it all. You hoped they knew, because you certainly didn’t know how to put the small enormity of those emotions into words.

Gabbro squeezed your forearm gently, bringing you back to Hearth. Your gaze flicked to them.

After so long talking to their visor, you tried to savor their real face whenever you could. You never wanted to take it for granted. Their scales were a little darker than yours and slightly closer to aqua than a true blue. Irregular stripes, similar to Gossan’s, patterned their face, neck, and arms. Their eyes were often heavily lidded, as Gabbro seemed to spend most of their time relaxing and/or lost in thought, but when something caught 100% of their attention, their eyes became round and gained a sparkle to them.

You especially liked their ears, with their gauged lobes and small hoops near the pointed ends. You’d been meaning to ask them to pierce your own. You wanted a physical, bodily reminder of something you hadn’t had when you started the loop.

“That looks like a lot of overthinking for someone trying to relax,” Gabbro noted.

“Yeah, you’re right. One more hit?” you suggested cheekily.

They took another long drag off the joint, beckoning you closer with their free hand. You lifted your face and placed your chin in their beckoning hand, enjoying the touch immeasurably. You moved your hand from their stomach to their shoulder to be better positioned over their face. They drew you in with the hand cupping your face.

This time, you were slow and thoughtful, determined to savor every second to the fullest. You watched their eyes fall closed as you leaned in, faintly smiling. Gently, you touched your lips to theirs and appreciated the soft sensation of it before opening your mouth slightly to breathe in. You inhaled slowly and steadily, feeling your chest expand, noting the roughness of the smoke in your throat. For just a moment, you pressed into their lips as your lungs reached capacity, trying to breathe in as much as you could. Finally, you pulled away and breathed out with a sigh.

When you glanced down, Gabbro looked a little starry-eyed this time. Their mouth still slightly parted, the corners upturned in the smallest smile, eyes half-lidded and locked on you; the picture of contentment and pleasant surprise.

The impulse struck inevitably, and you stood no chance of countering it.

You kissed them. For real, no justification, no smoke, no distractions. As if pulled in by the sun’s gravity, you lowered your face towards them.

You touched your lips to theirs softly. Not wanting to be too intrusive, you didn’t apply any real pressure, intending to pull away quickly. But before you could, the hand still on your cheek pulled you down more forcefully. Your mouth fell open slightly, somewhat in shock, but mostly just forced apart by the physicality. And here, you discovered the unparalleled, electric sensation of actually moving your lips against each others’. It was, wonderfully, like nothing you’d ever experienced before. How had you lived your entire life, not to mention a time loop, without this? The hand resting on their shoulder gripped it involuntarily, overwhelmed by your senses and this deep craving to get closer. Chest to chest, you leaned into them until the hammock swung outwards slightly. You could almost feel their heartbeat against yours. Their other hand appeared on your other cheek, holding you thrillingly in place. You were aflame with sensation from every nerve, the pressure and movement on your lips, their breaths on your nose, their comforting weight against your chest, their hands clasping your face warmly.

All at once, it became a little too much. You broke away reluctantly, breathing hard. When you looked down at them, you were both grinning.

“Just need a second,” you explained. You reached up to hold their wrists and leaned into their hands happily.

“No worries. Take your time,” Gabbro said. Gently, they rubbed their thumbs over your cheekbones. You leaned even further in with a sigh, closing your eyes.

Normally you’d have something witty to say here, a way for you to process the situation and respond to it simultaneously, but for once words escaped you. Besides, it seemed strangely disrespectful to your own emotions to fill the air with meaningless chatter right now.

Instead, you opened your eyes to look at them again and drifted closer, once more drawn towards their lips. Before you get there, you spot them quickly take a breath to speak and pause, hovering just an inch or two from their face.

“Can I try something?” Gabbro murmured, meeting your eyes.

“Of course,” you answered, forever chasing new experiences.

They pulled you closer and closed the distance between you.

Instantly, you melted into them. You could feel them smile against your mouth and you pushed a little closer, wanting more. Your hands slipped from their wrists, one falling to your side and the other planted on their chest.

Something soft and warm touched the boundary between your lips and it takes you a second to realize its their tongue. That certainly is a new experience, and who are you to deny yourself a curiosity satisfied? Slightly giddy—the hits might be, well, hitting right about now—you opened your mouth slightly to let them in. Maybe now you’ll find out what all the fuss is about.

You always thought making out would be gross. And it kind of was, but it’s also so awesome that all coherent thought, including forming opinions, are burned away by the white-hot haze overflowing in your chest and filling your head.

Their hands moved over your skin. One cupped the back of your head and the other slid down to gently clasp the side of your neck. The sensation felt like it was glowing on your skin. You weren’t sure if that was just because of the rush, or the mind-altering substance you took a second ago.

You decided leaning over Gabbro's head from the side isn’t enough. Still kissing, you shifted position to be more parallel to the hammock, laying half-across them and resting your chest on theirs. Somehow, the soft solidity of their body under you was the most comfortable thing you’d experienced in recent memory. You moved one hand to their shoulder and raised the other to touch their face. It was exhilarating, holding each other like this. You were overloaded with sensation. You wanted to hold all of them.

It was surprisingly easy to forget to breathe under the circumstances, so eventually you had to pull away to catch your breath. Gabbro's hands slid down your neck and shoulders to your arms where they held you gently. There were no words to sum up your current feelings, so you just grinned heartily at them instead and hoped they understood all the meaning you poured into it. By way of response, they leaned into the hand still resting on their cheek with a small, sleepy smile.

“Can I get in the hammock with you?” you asked hopefully. The faint rasp to your voice surprised you—a side effect of the smoke or of making out?

They glanced down at the end of the hammock, then shook their head against your hand. “Nah, the ropes won’t support the weight of both of us. I’ll do you one better though. Here, sit cross-legged again.”

You drew back with a sigh and readjusted yourself on the ground. The fire was getting a little low, you noted.

Gabbro sat up, stretched, and rolled sideways out of the hammock next to you. Then, they sank to their knees and all at once, appeared in your lap. They were a full head taller than you when you stood next to each other, and taller still when perched in your lap and grinning down at you. You had to crane your neck to see their face.

“Hi,” you grinned back, leaning forward to wrap your arms around their waist. “This is one better.”

They placed one hand on your inner shoulder for balance, thumb brushing your collarbone, and tipped your chin up with the other. Then, they leaned down to meet your mouth and kiss the smile right off your face.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you stayed like that, making out in each other’s arms. Every second stretched out and blurred with the next, as thick and sweet as syrup. You couldn’t believe you’d lived your entire life without kissing someone like this, their weight on your lap, feeling their body flex and shift in your arms, their hand on your face, the soft friction of their lips moving against yours. You weren’t sure you could ever live without it again. It felt like all the stars in the sky had congregated in your chest, heating you from the inside, light pouring out from between each rib.

Slowly, their hands danced over your skin. At the side of your neck, where your pulse hummed against their palm. Tracing your jawline and caressing your cheek. Pressed flat to your upper chest. Touching the sensitive base of your ears and earning a rare startle response from you for their efforts. How sublime was it to still be startled by things, after all you had seen and done? They ran their hands gently along the full length of your ears. Involuntarily, you sank into them with a relaxed sigh. You weren’t sure you’d felt this relaxed, and comfortable, and satisfied, and vulnerable yet safe, since long before the time loop. Maybe ever? You were glad/relieved that weed lived up to its reputation.

Eventually, a realization slowly dawned on you; while you were still receiving sensation from every other scale they touched, you hadn’t actually heard anything from your lips in a while. You pulled away to investigate at this new phenomena.

“Mlehhh,” you said intelligently, running your tongue over your lips.

Gabbro nodded sagely. “Go on.”

“My lips feel weird. Numb, kinda? I dunno.”

“The nerves are probably desensitized from all the stimulation,” they shrugged. “Let’s give ‘em a breather.”

Something about their simple, matter-of-fact explanation of the fact you’d just been kissing too hard for too long, struck you as humorous. Possibly the funniest thing you’d ever heard, even. You burst out laughing and leaned into their chest, hiding your face in their wonderfully soft and squishy sweater as giggles shook your body. Their arms folded around you, holding you against their chest.

“What? I’m not that bad a kisser, am I?” they said, with a smile in their voice.

You laughed even harder and slapped the ground, overcome with mirth. Everything that would normally get a smile or a singular laugh out of you, had become indescribably hilarious. You could feel Gabbro beginning to snicker too. They hugged you to their chest until your laughter petered out and you finally caught your breath.

You leaned back, and kept leaning back until the back of your head touched the ground. A new giggle bubbled out of you, this time driven less by humor and more of an expression of pure, overflowing joy. You reached out blindly, making grabby motions into thin air until Gabbro’s hands caught yours. Their fingers interlocked with yours like precisely machined couplings.

“I think I’m in love with you,” you said happily. “I think I’m in love with everyone.”

How could you possibly put all of it into words? The realization that you could kiss them for as long as you wanted and only ever be interrupted by fellow Hearthians or possibly inclement weather? The realization that you could kiss anyone for as long as you wanted? That you could do anything you wanted. You could not do anything you wanted. It was never going to be rudely interrupted by the heat death of the universe. You could take on long-term projects that take more than 22 hours to complete. Other people would see it. For better or for worse, everything you did could be seen and talked about by others. It would stay. They would stay.

The realization that finally, delightfully, magnificently, profoundly, your actions would have consequences.

You sniffled. Your laughter had taken on a distinctly “close to crying” quality.

“All good, time buddy?” Gabbro asked gently, squeezing your hands.

You opened your eyes, letting the tears roll down the sides of your face and wet the ground below. “Yeah. I’m good. It’s just—we can do this as long as we want, and it won’t be cut off by an unpleasant fiery death—or at least, it’s statistically very unlikely—and we could do it with anyone, and they’d remember, and—” you broke off, suddenly dangerously close to really crying, sobs and all. You released Gabbro’s hands to cover your eyes, embarrassed. In a small voice, you finished your thought. “I’m just so happy.”

“Aww, buddy…”

“Can you come here?” you asked wetly and somewhat pathetically.

You heard shuffling as Gabbro joined you on the ground. You stretched your legs out with relief; they’d been going numb from being folded so long. Then, you turned sideways to throw your arms around them and pull them in. You tucked their head under your chin and hugged them closely, grateful beyond measure for… everything that was happening right now.

“This feels really good. And that’s not just the weed talking,” you mumbled into the top of their head. “Though it does help.”

Gabbro wrapped their arms around your middle and hugged you just as tightly.

“Can we just… do this?” you asked. “Like, be friends who make out?”

“‘Course we can,” they replied into your chest, slightly muffled. “It’s like you just said. We can do whatever we want.”

“Awesome,” you whispered.

Tomorrow, you’d talk to Hal. You’d apologize for being so avoidant lately, even if you weren’t sure you were ready/capable of explaining why, yet. You could simply tell them that, and you trusted they’d accept it, because they were Hal, and you were their favorite astronaut. And then, you’d rebuild the irreplaceable relationship you’d once had, log by painstaking log, because you could. What was going to stop you?

But for now, you were going to hold your time buddy in your arms and reflect on the gift of being alive, and probably pass out on the forest floor with them. Your back would be sore in the morning, because time would actually pass while you were asleep, time your body would feel even if your mind did not, and a new day that everyone else perceived as a new day would break. You could come back and enjoy physical contact with Gabbro whenever you wanted, without dying unpleasantly in between. You could do whatever you wanted. You could be whoever you wanted.