#(the dirt room is an atrium that used to be all concrete)

[aurosoul]

this is Bathtub my pet beetle who I almost killed with a tiny pumpkin. (+1 like = 1 immortality point so this never happens again)

[redorich]

In the HermitCanyon au, How is my favorite Bee armored Admin doing? How long does it take for Xisuma to become.. aware of what is happening? For the first few sections it seemed like he was in a coma/unconscious. In the most recent bit Impulse tells Etho to get Xisuma, so at least theoretically he can now move, but how long has it taken him to get there, and where is he on the scale to full recovery? Are the other hermits keeping him safe with rabbit stew? (if they have rabbits that is...)

Part 2 of this.

Etho comes back twenty minutes later with a solemn look on his face. (At least, Puffy assumes. She can't actually see most of his face because of that mask of his.)

"X is in a bad way today," he says quietly. "I can take Puffy to him if you guys would like to stay here with Zedaph."

Impulse and Tango look nervously at each other. On one hand, they very much would like to stay with Zedaph, who is mostly healed but still very loopy and probably should not be moved. On the other hand, allowing Puffy deep into the Hermits' inner sanctum is a risk in and of itself, let alone with only one Hermit with her. Etho's a good fighter and a wily bastard, but Puffy is most certainly no slouch.

In the end, it comes down to trust. How much can they show Puffy before they can no longer trust that she won't snitch? How sure are they that she won't try to kill them all and steal their stuff?

"Tell Xisuma I said hi," Zedaph warbles from the bed in the corner of the room, out of any window's line of sight.

As Etho presses a button which removes a panel of the wall in a whir of piston noises, Puffy snorts out a little laugh. "I'll be sure to do that."

Tango nods subtly to Impulse. If Puffy brought Zedaph back to the canyon, saved him from a painful respawn, and didn't once ask for anything in return, then the Hermits can trust her at least this much.

Etho leads Puffy through a short hallway into a large circular room with a domed ceiling. The room is mostly quartz, though the walls are lined with sea lanterns and oak leaves. It’s beautiful. This place has been hiding under her feet this whole time?

“This is the Atrium,” Etho says, “or at least the main one. Come on, getting a mule will be more trouble than it’s worth if you’re not carrying anything.”

Puffy is speechless, utterly and profoundly, when Etho takes her through a tunnel on the opposite side of where she entered. It almost looks as though the tunnel here was carved by hand, then completely redone in dirt and grass and vines to give it a secretive, high fantasy look.

“Hey, Etho!” says a dark-haired man with a big smile as he comes trotting out of a branching hallway to the left. “Hey--” He catches sight of Puffy and his smile dissipates into panic. He shouts incoherently and dives back into the hallway he just exited.

“Hey Bdubs,” Etho greets impishly, then turns to Puffy. “Man, it’s like he saw a ghost or something. Maybe Mothman.”

Puffy bleats out a surprised laugh. Up ahead, she spots another Hermit lurking around the corner of the archway Etho is leading her toward.

“Etho,” says a tall blonde woman. “Cleo wants to talk to you about, er...” The blonde woman glances at Puffy. “Her thing,” she finishes lamely.

“Well, as you can see, I’m a bit busy at the moment. Would you mind telling Cleo so she doesn’t skin me alive?” Etho says sweetly.

The blonde woman snorts. “Face the music, Mothman. I’ll take care of Puffy from here. I assume you’re taking her to Xisuma?”

Etho wilts. Clearly, whoever this Cleo person is, she’s not someone to piss off. Puffy wonders what Etho did.

“See ya around,” Etho waves, somehow both cheery and morose at the same time, like a funeral for someone nobody liked. Puffy and the blonde woman watch him go.

“My name’s False, by the way,” the blonde woman says. “Thanks for the bandanna. Normally I’d be wearing it, but I just got back from beating up Iskall.”

The woman-- False-- laughs. Puffy is once again taken aback by the idea that the Hermits actually use the items that she makes for them. 

False takes off in a brisk walk toward the archway she’d come out of. Jumping a little bit at being torn from her thoughts, Puffy hurries to follow. It’s hard to keep up, since all Puffy wants to do is stare. She must be in the living quarters-- they let her in the living quarters?! Each door matches the high fantasy, underground sort of aesthetic, but a few doors are left open and each one is remarkably different on the inside. One room is built entirely out of red and white concrete, whereas another is Nether-themed with actual fire, and the room down the hall is entirely underwater!

One door is different. It’s got blue-purple banners along the frame, and when False opens the door for Puffy, she can see that the room is made of blackstone bricks. Maps of the Dream SMP line the wall, and in the center of the room there is a mildly ornate table made of warped wood.

At the end of the table in the back of the room, opposite the door, sits a trio. To the left, there is a plain-looking man with a beard and an “at” symbol on his shirt. He speaks in a Southern accent to a man on the right side of the table, who wears a red sweater and twirls a feather between his fingers like the cat that got the canary.

In between the two, at the head of the table, rests someone very unique. He’s obviously tall, that much is obvious even when he’s sitting down. He’s also got mesmerizing purple eyes which glow faintly against the dark of the blackstone. Puffy doesn’t know why, but she gets the feeling that they’re supposed to be glowing much brighter.

As taken by the man’s eyes as she is, Puffy doesn’t notice the non-invasive breathing tube the man also has (a cannula? She doesn’t know what it’s called, but that sounds right) until the man’s gaze falls upon her, still standing in the doorway next to False.

“Oh,” the man says. “You’re not supposed to be here. Welcome.”

False steps forward, breaking Puffy from her trance. “Puffy, this is Xisuma, Joe, and Grian. I’d introduce you to them as well, but... you know.”

“I don’t know-- oh,” Puffy says awkwardly, catching sight of the massive crochet blanket she’d made for the Hermit months ago, draped across Xisuma’s shoulders.

“Why are you here?” Grian asks with a tilted head. “No offense or anything, but I just lost a bet. I had three diamonds on Cub bringing you in here eventually-- he’s the one you usually meet at the barrel, you know.”

False interjects, “I didn’t bring her down here, it was Etho!”

“Shoot,” Joe says. “Cleo wins yet again.”

“It was Zedaph, actually,” Puffy says. All eyes turn to her. “I found him on the surface. He was really injured, so I brought him back here. Impulse and-- Tango? Yeah, Tango-- told Etho to take me down here.”

Puffy uncharacteristically twiddles her fingers a little bit, feeling in over her head. “Uh, you know I’m not gonna tell or anything, so... Why am I here?”

The full weight of Xisuma’s piercing stare falls upon her. Even as fragile as he looks, even as strong as Puffy is, she feels a jolt of apprehension.

“You’d know more about the red vines than we do,” he begins. “Etho mentioned that they’re what hurt Zedaph; he’s mentioned them on multiple occasions, and never in a good way. How long do you think it would take for those vines to reach our village, and what do you think would happen once they do?”

“As far as we’re aware, there are several players who are proponents of the vines, and claim they originate from some sort of egg?” Joe adds. “I’ve had a hard time calculating how big of a mushroom we’d need to make an omelet out of the egg, but apparently most of my fellow Hermits do not in fact want evil eggs on their omelets.”

“And how come the End is inaccessible?” Grian cuts in with a whine. “I want my elytra.”

Xisuma huffs a laugh into the cannula. “As you can see, we have many questions which only a native Dream SMP player like yourself can answer. In the interest of keeping ourselves safe--” he trails off into a coughing fit.

Puffy bites her lip, feeling as though she really shouldn’t be seeing this. Joe rests his hand on Xisuma’s back.

“You give us answers, and we’ll give you diamonds, netherite, whatever you want. And when we move out-- well, it wasn’t much of a secret anyway-- we’ll offer you a safe place with us,” Grian speaks up on Xisuma’s behalf.

A thousand thoughts spin inside Puffy’s head. She feels like Dorothy in that tornado, and Grian’s offer is the Wicked Witch. “Did you guys really save Tommy’s life?” she finds herself asking.

The Hermits seem taken aback.

“The blond kid?” False asks. “Yeah, but he was unconscious the whole time. I think Scar told the kid to keep us a secret, but... I don’t think any of us expected that to actually work.”

Puffy laughs disbelievingly. “He’s the one person on the entire server who keeps insisting that you guys aren’t real.”

“That’s good to hear,” Xisuma says quietly. “Do you have an answer for us, or would you like some time to consider?”

There are a thousand and one variables Puffy needs to think about. What is Dream’s stance on the Hermits? Who will she be setting herself against by allying with the Hermits? What will Puffy have to expect, from both underground and surface-dwelling players alike? Which players can she take in a fight?

Fuck it, she thinks. “You’ve got yourselves a deal.”

Xisuma smiles. Despite his ill condition, she gets the feeling that this nice, mild-mannered man is far more dangerous than she could ever hope to be.

“I’m glad to have you on our side, Puffy,” he says. “Thank you for your help.”

[pilot-boi]

Why do we keep sending people to the security room

I'd like to watch Neo as she passes both Fenn & Clover as well as Pyrrha Nekros on the way to see Hazel "puny God"-ing Tyrian into a pulp but idk how to do all the coding stuff so like uhhh beep bop boop I've hacked into the mainframe. It has a Tyrian shaped dent in it.

((Okay I had to answer this one it’s just too funny. Also Pyrrha Nekros is a great name for her, thank you))

Neo passes so many people sprinting out of the Facility.

Technicians, and lab workers, and officers, and surveillance operators. People she recognizes, and people she doesn’t. All people who worked in this building.

All people who might have known what was happening to her and her friends, and still did nothing.

She wants to hurt them.

They don’t recognize her, she looks like one of them. She’s not screaming, of course, but still. It would be so easy for her to just reach out and snap the neck of the scientists she recognizes from testing. So easy for her to stab the guard she recognizes from dragging her friends out of their cells.

But she doesn’t.

She wants to. She wants to more than she wants to breath.

But she doesn’t.

The voices said someone needs to go upstairs, and so Neo is going to do that. The added bonus of getting further from the Director with every step helps keep her moving upwards. And when everyone else slams their way out the fire door, Neo muscles through the crowd and bursts into the main atrium.

It looks like a war zone out here.

Sprinklers raining water from the ceiling. Potted plants smashed to bits, shards of bloody pottery and dirt everywhere. The windows and lights smashed, explaining the fine coating of glass all across the floor. Huge swaths of wall, ceiling and floor are burned, the last remnants of the fires.

Oh, and the two oldest avians are battling to the death above her.

Neo Shifts, shortening in height as her wings reappear on her back. Tyrian and Hazel haven’t seemed to notice her yet, and she wouldn’t call up to them even if she could.

Tyrian swipes at him with claws of purple, dancing around him in the air. One of his arms appears to be broken, and it swings bonelessly at his side. The smile on his face is sickening considering his injuries.

Hazel’s fists are glowing silver, his Strength leaving dents in the walls every time he misses his targets. Concrete dust and blood splatter down with every strike. Strength doesn’t keep his knuckles from splitting open. His shirt is in tatters, bloody strips hanging from a set of claw marks.

Neo can’t tell who’s winning, and she doesn’t know how to help. They’re moving too fast for her to intervene. Her eyes dart around, watching them battle. They pass in front of the ruined shell of the security office and-

Wait… is that…

She spots something, glinting in the shadows of the room.

Tyrian’s knife.

A weapon.

Her gaze hardens. She glances up at them and darts across the room as soon as there’s an opening. Tyrian spots her, cackling and swiping death laced claws at her. Hazel roars, taking the opportunity to grab the man’s tail, buying her just enough time.

Tyrian’s hand passes inches from her wings.

Neo lands in a tumbling crashing pile of feathers, valuing speed over precision. A pain like a flash of white hot iron hits her wing, and she collapses to the ground, wishing she could scream.

She’s broken enough bones in her life to recognize that kind of pain.

Yup. She’ll definitely be feeling that in the morning. If she lives long enough to see morning.

The knife. Where is the knife? She grits her teeth and sits up, spots dancing in front of her eyes and nausea swelling in her throat when she moves. Where is it? Where is it?

There!

Sitting on the ground under probably what used to be a desk. She drags herself over to it, inch by agonizing inch, but eventually the weapon is within arm’s reach. Reaching out for it, her hand almost touches the handle when she pauses.

And then she reaches past it.

And Neo’s hand closes on the handle of a standard issue revolver.

Probably left here by whoever used to work in this office. Well, they’re not using it anymore. And she has much more need of it than they do.

Her eyes narrow, and her lips pull up into a grimace.

Time to kill the Direc- Salem’s faithful attack dog.