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Bill is a simple isosceles.
Simple as his mind can be, disregarding whatever his people have to say. It is quite common to his ears for people to call him the “Frame of Euclydia” for his revolutionary approach in the arts that rewrites what was the norm in artistic depictions managed by his home dimension. The stars in the galaxy that litters the mysterious direction he calls as “up” was a prominent subject of his works, though much to his dismay knowing the fact that they are incapable of comprehending the added dimension of his pieces–his determination grew ever stronger to find a way to show them the night sky.
That being said, sometimes a lifelong quest does require its break.
He sways his legs upon stepping into the solitary planet that Ford had taken him to. It was just a while back where he had encountered this…God. The moment he entered his life, he just didn't seem to want to leave. Time goes by and Bill just humbly accepts that there is an entity existing in between the higher dimension than his tailing over him. And ever since he had always been present in every ticking moment. In painting and living, and when he began to take his time actually assessing the God? Nothing ever came short of magnificent when he looked into the little details that make up the God.
He won’t deny that at first he was scared–furious? He’s not sure. Having a whole extra dimensional being pouring out from a space beyond the comprehensive scope of his mind into his sight surely did take a toll on his sanity. If at this point he has which many had argued that he may haven't.
This God, “Ford” was his name but from his frequent visits and presence throughout his process of creating and painting away had given Bill the other idea to call him his “Muse” instead. Ford was intrigued by the nickname, and Bill remembered how his eyes squinted and the skin of his cheeks wrinkled upon being referred to as so. Since then, he had taken the note to call him his Muse every once in a while in their nightly session of painting away in his studio.
Despite the surprise and existential crisis over his existence and mind after witnessing this God, he was quick to let his guard down and began to take a liking to this God.
His Muse is shaped in this 3 dimensional form giving him a depth of perception, a form that Bill is very much intrigued to study. Not even long after that encounter until he began drawing him in every angle possible and scratching every little detail of the God into his sketches and note books.
It was new to Bill. It was perplexing. But it was breathtakingly beautiful. And in Bill’s opinion, he is still just as beautiful as the first time his monophthalmic being lays its eye on him. The shadow in the crooks of his body and attire–and essentially the very outline of his silhouette that Bill had dubbed as an “organic shape” is stunning. It was intriguing, like a mixture of curves and straight lines that make up the perception of his being that is enhanced by the direction of light from the above. Even to the light of his goggles, too, added such a beautiful hue to his form and left him awestruck and unable to look away for way too long than he’d like to admit.
Too long, really. Even now when they’re both outside in the confines of his studio and Euclydia itself and in the wilderness of the forever stretching outer space, all that Bill could ever focus on was the color his goggles give off to the shape of his ear as he is sat on Ford’s shoulder.
Though, that sight seeing was interrupted fast enough when Ford approached a floating gray planet. With a slowed abrupt stop and firmly greeted by a sway of floating debris against his eye, Bill squints at the new sight bestowed upon him ever since he left his dimension and spent the time adrift with Ford in the vast abyss of space.
Ford landed with a softened fall the moment the glow of his boots shuts off, shaking bill to almost slipping off his shoulder from the recoil. Bill nodded when Ford extend his arm as his footing to bring him down.
A little doubtful and more fearful, Bill glared at the ground before sighing, and taking a deep breath at that and jumped down and-
“--AAAAH!” his vocal chords screamed faster than his mind could process the sound of his feet grating against the ground.
He stills. All trains of thoughts left him as soon as the texture of the sand and dust beneath his feet was transmitted into his brain. Does the brain even exist for him? Ford thought about that as he began to poke the triangle carefully as he set foot on the planet as well.
It was a very uncomfortable moment. A long one at that too as Bill adjusts to the new feelings surrounding his senses ever since he walked out Euclydia and into the wilderness of the interdimensional space. It was not always new, being his genetic mutation to perceive the third dimension poses him with a different biological makeup that gives him those abilities to sense .
Though, it is worth noting that Euclydia is a very clean dimension. Dusts and specs and certainly sand does not exist there.
Ford didn’t miss the way Bill squeaked at the texture, so he remained silent when Bill adjusts. Moving his foot one step at a time and stomping it in between, Bill groaned before finally taking a step and walked a few before returning to Ford with a nod.
“I'm not laying down. Ever. we’re stargazing horizontally this time, Sixer.” Bill grumbled as he turned around to continue walking.
“Right. And where are you going?”
“Circles. These weird feelings will go away eventually the more I feel it.”
“It is called ‘textures’ Bill. you will feel that as long as you make contact with it,”
Bill growled at the statement, but his dissatisfaction was short lived right after Bill accidentally slipped and dragged his foot across the sands, the tingling shot right through his back and tripped him into the sands. His whole senses began to flood his brain with all of the new sensations of contact that tears began to well in the edge of his eye. His chords constricts, paralyzed and took him down along as even forming a sentence was lost to him.
For a moment, Ford watches with sheer amusement. He is well intrigued by the biological reaction and quickly notes down any ideas of which he might investigate from the yellow isosceles later on. After the quick work of observation, Ford snickered and picked up the still triangle in his palm and carefully dusted off the sand and dirt off of his back. Bill’s pupil dilates in the silent moment freed of the overwhelming feeling.
Ford felt him trembling in his palm, and he made quick work to use his free hand to pet him slowly as to help him calm down. Rubbing circles slowly, he felt Bill eases and calms down marked by the slow blink he had done before planting his whole body into his palm.
“Are you alright, bill?” His fingers tapped onto Bill's back, somewhat in an attempt to shake him carefully.
The noise that came out of him was that of a gurgle, but he was quick to bring himself together and sat up. Eye slowly blinking at the palm beneath him, he rubbed his back and plops onto his palm to face the man too larger than him with dazed eyes.
“Ughh. I'm not getting down. No.” he groaned.
Ford could only snicker, looking down to his palm with a smile plastered on his lips. He turns off his head gear, in a flash the cyan glow of his gear’s overlay shuts down and reveals the squinting eyes that had been pinned on the smaller triangle for quite some time.
“Getting comfortable, Bill?”
“Yea,” Bill huffs, laying down fully on his palm now.
“You know i could just drop you right now,”
“You wouldn’t,”
“How overconfident.”
“That’s a part of my charm, Sixer.”
A comfortable silence fell upon them after the conversation ended. Ford had no intention to clap back with a witty response, rather opting to remain silent when his observation tells that Bill was dazed. His eye is unfocused, and his grip on his palm was weak.
It was his offer to show Bill the stars. Not just one that he saw from his home dimension, but from a place beyond his flat world and into the wilderness of the interdimensional space. At first Ford was in doubt regarding Bill’s physical compatibility–or lack thereof–in this space. But after the first step was taken, it took him by slight surprise that his body didn’t immediately disintegrate. Or explode. Or crumble into dust. Or the very fact that he can exit his dimension in the first place.
Bill is full of surprises. And that intrigued him.
Softly cradled by the ever growing yet pleasantly welcomed silence between them, Ford’s curiosity got the better of him as his thumb fiddled with Bill’s splayed out legs.
Bill’s physique is odd in the third dimensional form. Squishy. With a twinge of firmness in them. He noted that it is a clear sign of muscle formation and some additional layer of adipose tissue on the tip of his fingers. That observation certainly tugs at the idea of Bill having a digestive system, alongside a nervous system at that judging by his earlier response to physical contact stimulus. His thumb pressed against his knee (thigh? He can’t proportionately decide), which earned a small squeak from said triangle.
“Gee touching me like that when we are alone and my safety completely at your mercy? Didn’t know you’re into that, Fordsy,”
Ford glides his thumb up and pressed firmer.
“whOA okay now-” Bill shot up, clears his throat, and firmly grips Ford’s thumb to move it away as his face grows a hue darker.
He glared at the grinning man looming over him. At some point their size difference was horrifically nightmare inducing. Hell, at some point his very existence was asylum assigning but Bill begged to differ (he truly begged) after that dinner greeting.
Somewhat sober off of the overstimulation, Bill sighed and looked up towards the sky above. His breath hitches in his throat from what his eye had landed on.
Stars, but much, much, much more than what had ever been seen from his home.
Has it always been this much? In this many hues? Bill swore if what he used to see his whole life was miniscule in amount and beauty compared to the sight he saw now. Purple, orange, yellow, and many other colors blended in a cloud of sparkles and glinting light, scattered all over the extent of what his eye can see. A sight for all eyes, which no matter how much eyes had witnessed would always lack so much more to see.
“Welcome to NGC 6751. Also known as the ‘Dandelion Puffball Nebula’, part of the constellation Aquila, and certainly one of my favorites.” Ford stated as his eyes followed to where Bill was seeing. “ A nebula is a giant cloud of dust and gas in space. They come from the gas and dust thrown out by the explosion of a dying star, such as a supernova. All at the same time some parts of its regions are where new stars are beginning to form.
Bill perked at his explanation, turning his head faster than what his mind had registered.
“Stars die?”
“They do,” Ford’s thumb scooped under his legs and tucked him further into his palm, “Stars are born. They live, grow, and die. And in each of their deaths lies the bedding of birth for new stars to be born. A cycle of some sort that never ends,”
Suddenly, Bill felt his body lifted. Ford placed him just over his shoulder and Bill gripped onto his mullet for his dear life as he felt Ford’s body to shift and sway as he walked across the ground. They walked all the way through that night. In the solitary planet, all sounds heard are theirs.
Breaking through their silence and occasional conversations regarding stars and what they do, another sound was heard which alarms Bill as he hugged on Ford’s mullet just a tad tighter.
They walked far and wide and sure enough Ford had brought him to the shore of a body of water. Presenting itself in front of them now is an ocean glowing bright with luminescence, brandishing a bright blue in the hue of the finest of sapphire refracting the glow of the nebula above into its waters. Ford stares off in awe before taking a step into the water. The water glows ever brightly against the contact, resulting in some speculation that halts Ford into taking his time to note a thing or two into his journal upon his finding on this planet.
Bill watches. The bright shimmer as the water sways beneath them. The light illuminates, sending a gradient of hues to the fixture of Ford’s form and it rang to him this new concept of ‘depth’ that Ford had introduced him to.
Light. It is not a concept that exists in Euclydia. The 2D dimension comes with the inherent quality that makes up its 2D-ness that is the absence of light and shadow. All of its residence that consists of flat shapes has the color constant from all angles and placement that even gradient just simply does not exist. There is no light in Euclydia, therefore, There is no depth to its existence.
But Ford changed that. In all of his glory and smothering self-centeredness that Bill can only assume to come naturally from being a God, Bill dubbed the reflection of light and how it shapes Ford’s form as the ‘Color Theory’ in his notes.
Ford walked out just by the end of where the waves splayed back to itself. Sitting down and facing the vast luminous waves, he picked Bill up from his shoulder and placed him on his lap. Bill stomps onto the firm footing before giving the man a glance, his eye squinting with warm joy as he follows suit to look towards the sea as well.
All in the silence, Bill rustled from his lap and carefully crawled down from Ford’s lap. He gasped at the now damp texture of the sands, stopping himself to breath in and out before steeling himself and succeeding to land both of his feet to the ground. Though, that ended soon enough with what followed was a loud high pitched yelp that let out as the water hit against his foot. He wasn’t even in the water. Ford stared and observed. His eyes follow every movement and sloppy steps Bill takes as he navigates beside him in an attempt to let himself be splashed by the water.
“hey..uh, Ford?” Bill said, though the syllables died in his throat as the indecisiveness loses over all possible arguments that can allow him to Call a god on a name basis. He called him his muse and ‘Sixer’ but names felt somewhat too personal…well it is too late to overthink anyways.
“Yes, William?”
Oh. They are doing it that way.
Bill’s lids puckered at his own name. “Why did you take me here?”
Ford tilted his head over that.
“Surely you can do anything else besides being with me. You know, like, destroying universes and maybe eating people. Whatever the average Eldritch Gods are into,”
Ford huffs.
“And what would be the base for that assumption?”
“Uh, average legends and folklores?” Bill blinks. Of all monsters and mythical creatures he had been told about, Ford didn’t even come close to the average Pacman depictions.
Ford snickered at the title. Him? Eldritch? No chance of so. His attires and gears are all well thought out designs meant to be in fashion across the multiverse. He had made sure of that. He even added a whole catalog of fashion archives as its own section in his journal.
Ford leaned down to place his full attention over the yellow triangle. Bill is knee deep in the water, his eye staring off into the distance with the hem of his apron rumpled on the side of his hip as to keep it dry off the waves.
“You’re an interesting one, William. You are different. Anomalous in nature and dare I say intriguing .”
Bill blinked. Slowly. Before gazing underneath his feet.
“A closer inspection over a special case like yours is a highlight in a research. Afterall, what makes something worthy to be looked into is the question that comes from observing them,”
Ford’s hand combed through the break of the wave and splashes against Bill from behind, earning him a loud screech that one would say unholy but it sounded like a lovely tune to his ear.
“Are you not curious, Bill? Have you not questioned it? Appalled as to why you are so different ?”
Bill grimaced, now glaring at him.
“I can help you figure it out, Bill. I can give you the answers. Only if you are willing,”
“Okay, okay, enough. I get the gist, Sixer. No need to bulldoze me with all of that.”
“I can help you show them the stars, William.”
Bill furrowed at that. And Ford’s grin only grew an inch upper on his face.
“I can help you. Reconstructing your dimension and turning its plane to make them see the stars. Liberate them from their flat minds and bestow then the perception of depth. Just like you do. Do you not want that, William?”
Bill kicked the water in a quick fit before spinning around to meet the man towering over him despite him sitting down at his level. With one fist clenching the hem of his apron, his other hand is made to accusingly point at the man in front of him.
“Listen, Ford. I don’t like you trampling over my dimension like that. Just because you’re correct doesn’t mean you’re right to do so, Tough Guy.”
And before Bill could register another thought into his speech, his body was swiftly lifted from the ground. Ford took him by the tight apron that hugged his sides, the pressure squeezed the edge of his eyelids too tighter than he would like but he remained still. His footing lost into the air and what remained rational in his mind shrunk under the now intent gaze of the man as he was now pinched directly in front of his face. Like a prey toyed before a predator’s supper. Like a specimen of great intrigue studied by a scientist determined to have his questions answered.
The grip on his hem only tightened, but the glare in his eyes remained sharp.
Ford grinned at that.
“You are curious, aren’t you?”
“Well you don’t see me walking with a tin foil hat on, don’t you?”
“Heh, I suppose so.”
Ford’s other hand made a quick whip and snatched the beret off of Bill’s head and flipped in the air. While it was suspended midair, the gears beside his head shifted and blipped almost quicker than his eyes could blink. Laser was shot onto his beret and the smell of burnt lint can be smelled after an engraving was marked on the side of the comically small hat as it fell back into Ford’s hand.
And just like that he places the hat back onto its owner and tapped his gear to return to its track.
Bill stills, feeling the lingering warmth that sits on him. As his hand loosened on his apron and traveled to feel the mark that’s been left, he felt an odd shape. An outline shaped as 6 protruding rectangles connected to a half oval shape, sitting nicely on the right side of his beret.
“Consider it a gift.”
“Why…did you do that?”
“Generosity knows no reason, Bill.”
Ford places Bill on the side of his shoulder and scoots him closer to the side of his neck. Enveloped by the nothingness of the space’s vacuum, Bill’s nerves calmed as the lingering sensations left off of his physical body. Drowsiness began to take place, and Bill sighed as he welcomed the sensation of the soft tufts of hair that became his bedding.
Between them, under the nebula and above the solitude of the planet’s wilderness, rustling of eyelids closing slowly can be heard.