Wilbur Soot

Sunlight streamed through the windows, making all the dust that had accumulated over the years look ten times more visible as it floated in the rays. Wilbur was sitting behind the counter, having brought his laptop to work so he could get some uni assignments done.

Just as the room had settled into the quiet rhythm of keyboard clicks, the peace was abruptly broken by the door swinging open, followed by the loud chatter of teenagers.

Wilbur didn't even need to look up to know who it was. There they were, left to right: Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo. The latter had, yet again, brought some kind of plant.

"Hey Wilby!" Tommy exclaimed. It was clear he'd gotten into something again — there were fresh scratches on his arms. Probably climbed a tree on the way here or tried to pet a stray cat.

"Hey..." Wilbur muttered under his breath, not taking his eyes off the laptop.

"I brought a new plant — a Spathiphyllum. I'll tell you how to take care of it later," Ranboo said, finding a good spot for it and setting the pot down. It was a shady little corner, sheltered from direct sunlight but still seemed warm enough. And more importantly, a place Strider wouldn't likely reach.

Wilbur glanced at the plants already lined up and gave a vague nod.