There's science to be done!

Wilson P. Higgsbury | 33 | Credentials | About

[higgsburylaboratories]

@the-wanderer-willow

Wilson stretches his back as he finishes setting up another rabbit trap, holding the now motionless creature by its hind legs. He wipes the sweat off his brow and pats Chester’s head to hold the game for him.

“Come on, buddy,” he says, taking a deep breath. Before he could tell him they were returning home, he catches a strong whiff of… something burning? Though the scent isn’t coming from the direction of his home near the ocean, filling him with relief, but from deeper in the woods.

Curiosity got the better of him and he followed the scent, happening on a women, burning things. But why?

“Hello…?” he calls out.

[the-wanderer-willow-deactivated]

“No, I didn’t. Now hush.” Willow was certainly a master of suspiciously specific denial, wasn’t she?

She stepped away from the flames, fire clinging to her clothes for all of a few seconds before disappearing with no visible burn damage left behind. Without hesitation, she clasped her hand to his, a small golden puff of dust escaping from the impact, and offered a vigorous shake.

Nitre was left behind on his hands. “Nice to meet you!”

[higgsburylaboratories]

She is quite strong, it caught Wilson off guard. He beams brightly, choosing not to dwell on her denial. He attempts to squeeze her hand back firmly in the shake.

“Yes, yes, you as well,” he says cheerfully, gazing down at his palm. Interesting. “Do you happen to live nearby?” he asks, careful not to wipe his hand and soil his clothes. They were already dirty from the day, but he still has a bit of sense not to wipe his hands on himself.

[higgsburylaboratories]

@the-wanderer-willow

Wilson stretches his back as he finishes setting up another rabbit trap, holding the now motionless creature by its hind legs. He wipes the sweat off his brow and pats Chester’s head to hold the game for him.

“Come on, buddy,” he says, taking a deep breath. Before he could tell him they were returning home, he catches a strong whiff of… something burning? Though the scent isn’t coming from the direction of his home near the ocean, filling him with relief, but from deeper in the woods.

Curiosity got the better of him and he followed the scent, happening on a women, burning things. But why?

“Hello…?” he calls out.

[the-wanderer-willow-deactivated]

Willow’s lighter went sky high, she’d thrown it up in surprise, and after some fumbling, managed to catch the beloved tool. Then she looked to him. All around, small trees were going up in cool, blue flames. Nitre dust visibly pales her hands.

“What? A girl gets hot in these awful summer days, and it’s not like I got a fainting couch lying around.” She had a headache anyway from rooting around in the graveyard, not that she’d fess up to it. The flames helped. “I used to think blue was such a dreadful color…”

[higgsburylaboratories]

The man tilts his head, a confused smile pulling at his lips.

“Are you implying a flame eases the… heat?” he asks in a genuine voice. Already he finds himself thrown for a loop. Years of solitude would do that to a man. Maybe she had a fever she needed to break. Maybe she thought the woods were too dark.

He inches closer, kneeling about three feet away from her and her flames. “I agree, blue is alluring, but I would be very appreciative if you didn’t burn the woods I live in into a crisp.” His smile falls crooked, brows laced with worry.

[the-wanderer-willow-deactivated]

“Psssh, I don’t know how you’ve been surviving this terrible heat if you don’t know about the endo fire.” And sure enough, as he grew close, wispy chills lapped at him as surely as The practically consumed her. Flames didn’t catch on her clothes or hair, though.

“Besides, I’m careful! I’m just focusing on this widdle circle of trees, I don’t burn down whole forests…anymore.” Not since Wickerbottom scolded her like a small child.

[higgsburylaboratories]

Wilson’s eyes grow wide with interest, a curious glint in them. He moves his hands closer in awe, feeling his fingers grow cold.

“I’m afriad I’ve never had the pleasure,” he says with a grin, “Everything’s a bit curious, wouldn’t you say?” Wilson has since lost the ability to be too surprised. It seems almost anything could happen here, so it’s easier to expect. Though a cool flame that is genuinely cool did send the gears turning in his mind.

“Did you say... ‘anymore’?”

[higgsburylaboratories]

@the-wanderer-willow

Wilson stretches his back as he finishes setting up another rabbit trap, holding the now motionless creature by its hind legs. He wipes the sweat off his brow and pats Chester’s head to hold the game for him.

“Come on, buddy,” he says, taking a deep breath. Before he could tell him they were returning home, he catches a strong whiff of… something burning? Though the scent isn’t coming from the direction of his home near the ocean, filling him with relief, but from deeper in the woods.

Curiosity got the better of him and he followed the scent, happening on a women, burning things. But why?

“Hello…?” he calls out.

[the-wanderer-willow-deactivated]

Willow’s lighter went sky high, she’d thrown it up in surprise, and after some fumbling, managed to catch the beloved tool. Then she looked to him. All around, small trees were going up in cool, blue flames. Nitre dust visibly pales her hands.

“What? A girl gets hot in these awful summer days, and it’s not like I got a fainting couch lying around.” She had a headache anyway from rooting around in the graveyard, not that she’d fess up to it. The flames helped. “I used to think blue was such a dreadful color…”

[higgsburylaboratories]

The man tilts his head, a confused smile pulling at his lips.

“Are you implying a flame eases the... heat?” he asks in a genuine voice. Already he finds himself thrown for a loop. Years of solitude would do that to a man. Maybe she had a fever she needed to break. Maybe she thought the woods were too dark.

He inches closer, kneeling about three feet away from her and her flames. “I agree, blue is alluring, but I would be very appreciative if you didn’t burn the woods I live in into a crisp.” His smile falls crooked, brows laced with worry.

[higgsburylaboratories]

@the-wanderer-willow

Wilson stretches his back as he finishes setting up another rabbit trap, holding the now motionless creature by its hind legs. He wipes the sweat off his brow and pats Chester’s head to hold the game for him.

“Come on, buddy,” he says, taking a deep breath. Before he could tell him they were returning home, he catches a strong whiff of... something burning? Though the scent isn’t coming from the direction of his home near the ocean, filling him with relief, but from deeper in the woods.

Curiosity got the better of him and he followed the scent, happening on a women, burning things. But why?

“Hello...?” he calls out.

[higgsburylaboratories]

a couple things!

i now have a carrd that holds a bio, my rules, and information on wilson. i plan on using more muses later but for now wilson is my sole muse

and second i have changed my name from higgsburydoughboy to higgsburylaboratories

but now we are back babey!

dont be afraid to check out the about link and send me messages!

[higgsburylaboratories]

@b3avercrossing

Wilson wipes his brow as he trecks across the field. The sun is high in the sky, beating down on his head while he climbs the latest rolling hill. He fiddles with the incomplete sunhat in his hands, trying not to let it bother him that the sun would be on the decent by the time he finishes. He packs the item in his sack as he spies the trees that form the start of a scattered forest.

He brushes his hair back out of his eyes, it began to fall in his face the longer the day progressed, and picks up the pace. The shade of the nearest tree beckons him, and the man is happy to finally feel the relief of the sun no longer beating on his neck. He squats, leaning against the rough trunk and taking a well deserved rest.

His canteen is beginning to feel light, his hope to find water strengthens. Just as his sips at the water, he hears something. The sound of an axe against wood, chopping. The man rises to his feet and ambles towards the sound. A person? He thought he was alone.

Wilson searches through the increasingly denser forest before stumbling upon a man, and a big one at that. “Oh,” he hum softly to himself, and though he can only see the back of the man’s head, he can stop the words from escaping his lips.

“You look familiar.”

[b3avercrossing]

Woodie had been collecting tinder and lumber for building walls and keeping himself dry. He was so involved in his work he didn’t hear the approach, successfully felling the tree as the scientist spoke. The redhead finally turns, eyes going wide and a smile peeking out from under that messy beard.

“Holy Mary… holy Christ…! Yer the firs’ other person Ah’ve seen since ah’ve been in this hell hole!” He smiles then seems to dart his eyes to the side, as if listening to someone.

He hesitantly lifts his axe, looking at Wilson warily. “Yain’t with that magician prick are ya?”

[higgsburylaboratories]

Wilson recoils at the idea of being “with” Maxwell.

“Heavens no,” disgust wrinkles his brow, “I take that you aren’t either.” The scientist’s gaze darts around the man’s expression. He looks very friendly, and Wilson is relieved. He’s been wandering alone for days, at least now he had the chance to form a sort of alliance. Lucky him, he has found such a strong lumberjack.

They would be a rather ideal team, they can benefit from one another, definitely.

“I’m Wilson,” he introduces himself, extending his hand out towards the man, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

[chessboards-and-cigars]

@higgsburydoughboy

Maxwell stared at the screens before him- a bored look on his tired face. He slipped his glasses on- hoping that would help. But not so much. The headache was still present and the ever wanting need to leave. His eyes moved to Woodies screen- still cutting wood like the last day. No where close to the portal. Then to Wendy’s. Still gathering. Smart girl. Then finally to his favorite screen- Wilson.

He enjoyed watching Wilson. He broke the constant cycle every time he came back. New strategies- and so far- Maxwell didn’t see him repeat a single mistake. The silence has finally gotten to him and all he wanted to do- is just do something. He got tired of sending the hounds- not sending them till the 7th day or 14th.

Boredom was killing him. Along with his sanity.

Maxwell sighed softly- slicking his hair back and touching Wilson’s screen.

Might as well pay a visit and see how the poor fellow was holding up.

[higgsburylaboratories]

Wilson continues his search. He can’t quite recall what, but he understands he must find it. He marches along a worn trail, scribbling new scenery onto his crude map. After probably half an hour, he wipes his brow. It’s about time to check traps. He circles around a field’s expanse, please at the findings of a couple rabbits.

On his way to camp he gets an unsettling feeling. Almost as if being watched. Wilson wets his lips nervously and peers over his shoulder. Nothing. He can’t escape the feeling, though it tends to come and go on its own. Chills run down his spine, and he hastens his pace to camp. A small gathering of trees with a small campfire a small distance away.

Wilson calls it a camp; however, it only consisted of Chester sleeping happily, waiting for Wilson’s return.

“Hi puppy dog,” he cooes, “Chester, puppy doggy, my sweet baby boy.” He ruffles the cheeks of the creature and chuckles as his whole body shakes with excitement. “Did you miss me? I missed you,” he laughs, taking just a moment to put the rabbits inside his large mouth. Chester makes a noise similar to a bark, earning even more pats.

“Yes I know,” Wilson says earnestly, “Let’s get going.”

[higgsburylaboratories]

@b3avercrossing

Wilson wipes his brow as he trecks across the field. The sun is high in the sky, beating down on his head while he climbs the latest rolling hill. He fiddles with the incomplete sunhat in his hands, trying not to let it bother him that the sun would be on the decent by the time he finishes. He packs the item in his sack as he spies the trees that form the start of a scattered forest.

He brushes his hair back out of his eyes, it began to fall in his face the longer the day progressed, and picks up the pace. The shade of the nearest tree beckons him, and the man is happy to finally feel the relief of the sun no longer beating on his neck. He squats, leaning against the rough trunk and taking a well deserved rest.

His canteen is beginning to feel light, his hope to find water strengthens. Just as his sips at the water, he hears something. The sound of an axe against wood, chopping. The man rises to his feet and ambles towards the sound. A person? He thought he was alone.

Wilson searches through the increasingly denser forest before stumbling upon a man, and a big one at that. “Oh,” he hum softly to himself, and though he can only see the back of the man’s head, he can stop the words from escaping his lips.

“You look familiar.”

[nightwonder7]

They changed this string!?

[chessboards-and-cigars]

@higgsburydoughboy

[higgsburylaboratories]

There’s a soft thudding of Woodie walking around camp, the lumberjack decked out in a thick coat to protect against the cold. He’s made sure to keep facing away from everyone, going about his business quietly. The strangest thing is how he’s not carrying on one of his usual conversations with Lucy.

Wilson perhaps lets his curiosity get the best of him. He couldn’t help it, it was sort of second nature at this point. He approaches Woodie, hands flat against the stitching of the sides of his trousers, and leans forward some. “Hey, Woodie?” he calls gently to get the larger man’s attention, “You’re acting… somewhat off… Is something wrong?”@b3avercrossing

[b3avercrossing]

“N-no m fine Wilson.” He tries not to let the sound of his dear friend’s voice get him emotional, god he tries. After being alone so long though it breaks down any reservations he has. He turns around quickly and embraces Wilson, quick so as not to let his blind eye be seen.

“Just ‘omesick today is all…”

He’s not lying.

[higgsburylaboratories]

Wilson jumps, not quite expecting the man who was previously distancing himself to suddenly turn and hold him. He wraps his arms around Woodie’s shoulders, squeezing him tightly and reassuringly. He didn’t want to say something he didn’t believe in himself, instead soothingly rubbing Woodie’s back. “You can talk to me if you need to,” he says, resting his head on Woodie’s shoulder, “About anything.”

[b3avercrossing]

He nods, stepping back and holding a hand over his eye as if he’s got a headache.

“Thanks Wilson… it always did mean a lot fer you to say that eh?” He chuckles sadly, looking at the man with sunken eyes. He looks older, and really tired. His hair is longer too.

“Ah fuck it, it’s not doin me any good to hide. It’s been a long time Wilson.” He says finally, uncovering his eye sadly.

It’s covered in scars, and very obviously blind.

[higgsburylaboratories]

Wilson’s eyes scanned over Woodie’s face, looking him over for a hint of what was happening. He gasps softly when Woodie moves his hand from his face. “Woodie?” he asks, unsure what to say. He fumbles for words, reaching forward to take Woodie’s hand. “What.. what’s going on?”

[higgsburylaboratories]

There’s a soft thudding of Woodie walking around camp, the lumberjack decked out in a thick coat to protect against the cold. He’s made sure to keep facing away from everyone, going about his business quietly. The strangest thing is how he’s not carrying on one of his usual conversations with Lucy.

Wilson perhaps lets his curiosity get the best of him. He couldn’t help it, it was sort of second nature at this point. He approaches Woodie, hands flat against the stitching of the sides of his trousers, and leans forward some. “Hey, Woodie?” he calls gently to get the larger man’s attention, “You’re acting… somewhat off… Is something wrong?”@b3avercrossing

[b3avercrossing]

“N-no m fine Wilson.” He tries not to let the sound of his dear friend’s voice get him emotional, god he tries. After being alone so long though it breaks down any reservations he has. He turns around quickly and embraces Wilson, quick so as not to let his blind eye be seen.

“Just ‘omesick today is all…”

He’s not lying.

[higgsburylaboratories]

Wilson jumps, not quite expecting the man who was previously distancing himself to suddenly turn and hold him. He wraps his arms around Woodie’s shoulders, squeezing him tightly and reassuringly. He didn’t want to say something he didn’t believe in himself, instead soothingly rubbing Woodie’s back. “You can talk to me if you need to,” he says, resting his head on Woodie’s shoulder, “About anything.”

[higgsburylaboratories]

There’s a soft thudding of Woodie walking around camp, the lumberjack decked out in a thick coat to protect against the cold. He’s made sure to keep facing away from everyone, going about his business quietly. The strangest thing is how he’s not carrying on one of his usual conversations with Lucy.

Wilson perhaps lets his curiosity get the best of him. He couldn’t help it, it was sort of second nature at this point. He approaches Woodie, hands flat against the stitching of the sides of his trousers, and leans forward some. “Hey, Woodie?” he calls gently to get the larger man’s attention, “You’re acting... somewhat off... Is something wrong?”@b3avercrossing

[wixxie--bud]

WX78 stumbles recklessly through the empty bushes, making soft, creaky huffs of anger and frustration. The creaking of his metal sort of indicated his tiredness. He seemed to be after something, relentlessly.

“Damn bird! I’ll slaughter you!” His voice grumbles loudly. Suddenly he hears shuffling…there! In another bush near by. He lifts his already half-broken axe, ready to strike at it.

WX slowly extends his arm, trying his hardest not to gloat. As he goes to swing down at the bush, he hears a man’s voice. Arms lift from the bush.

Suddenly the bush raises up to reveal a short, “dapper” man standing there, the bush atop his head makes him look ridiculous. Not to mention the cowering look on the poor man’s face.

@higgsburydoughboy

[wixxie--bud]

“Wilson?”

[higgsburylaboratories]

Wilson nods again, tilting his head at WX and giving him as much of his attention as he could, “Yes?”

[higgsburylaboratories]

Woodie walks up to Wilson and with one final thought, kisses him on the lips quickly. It could be easily dismissed as the man tripping, if it were not for the blush one his face.

Both of Wilson’s hands move to cover his lips, the man’s cheeks growing bright red as he watches Woodie with wide eyes. He wets his lips behind his fingers, furrows his brows, then speaks in a soft voice. “W-what was that for?”

@b3avercrossing

[wixxie--bud]

WX78 stumbles recklessly through the empty bushes, making soft, creaky huffs of anger and frustration. The creaking of his metal sort of indicated his tiredness. He seemed to be after something, relentlessly.

“Damn bird! I’ll slaughter you!” His voice grumbles loudly. Suddenly he hears shuffling…there! In another bush near by. He lifts his already half-broken axe, ready to strike at it.

WX slowly extends his arm, trying his hardest not to gloat. As he goes to swing down at the bush, he hears a man’s voice. Arms lift from the bush.

Suddenly the bush raises up to reveal a short, “dapper” man standing there, the bush atop his head makes him look ridiculous. Not to mention the cowering look on the poor man’s face.

@higgsburydoughboy

[wixxie--bud]

He puts his hand to his chin in thought. WX wondered how Wilson would react. Not to mention, what all he would touch and ramble about. He sort of bobs his head back and forth, not exactly nodding nor shaking his head in any agree/disagree sign language.

“In due time.”

[higgsburylaboratories]

Wilson seems more than satisfied with this answer, mind wandering off to imagine what he might find if and when WX would let him look inside. Purely mechanical pieces or something more? The unknown was exciting with the potential of gaining knowledge in the future. He nods happily.

[wixxie--bud]

WX78 stumbles recklessly through the empty bushes, making soft, creaky huffs of anger and frustration. The creaking of his metal sort of indicated his tiredness. He seemed to be after something, relentlessly.

“Damn bird! I’ll slaughter you!” His voice grumbles loudly. Suddenly he hears shuffling…there! In another bush near by. He lifts his already half-broken axe, ready to strike at it.

WX slowly extends his arm, trying his hardest not to gloat. As he goes to swing down at the bush, he hears a man’s voice. Arms lift from the bush.

Suddenly the bush raises up to reveal a short, “dapper” man standing there, the bush atop his head makes him look ridiculous. Not to mention the cowering look on the poor man’s face.

@higgsburydoughboy

[wixxie--bud]

“Glad to hear it.” The metal man grew a sinister look on his face.

[higgsburylaboratories]

Wilson’s smile fell lop-sided, but his tone remains just as pleased as it was before. “Does this mean I get to...” he trails off a bit, was this a rude question? “You know,” he tries again, “see... how you work?”

[ghosticalz]

there’s no such things, will.

[chessboards-and-cigars]

@higgsburydoughboy