#Bdubs moved back to green!

[raediggitydog]

Big update! Change log is in the tags, plus a much cleaner look!

Doc link

[krashlite]

Anyways my hot take abt the cheater’s arc is that all four of them were in the wrong but it was mostly Grian’s fault things went so horrendously since man was the reason why the actual Cheating part of the cheater’s arc happened (characters, obviously)

But yeah here’s how they were all wrong yes (after the cut!)

Grian was being incredibly controlling because he didn’t trust Scar to keep them safe. Man was scared of his own damn shadow for a lot of this, but his way of ensuring his own safety was basically to tell Scar to stand in one place and not move. He pretty much disregarded the fact that Scar is a grown man capable of making his own decisions And capable of keeping himself, and the both of them, alive. The fact that they were last on green doesn’t reassure him, only confirms that he is in the right for being so controlling. He thinks his behavior kept them alive. He only loosens up once they hit their red life since at that point danger is assumed. Grian DOES NOT learn to respect Scar here, just puts his paranoia on hold for another day. His conclusion is that he was right and Scar was unreasonable

Scar was pushing back against said control since he knew it was unfounded. Again, he’s a grown man capable of making his own decisions. He has a tendency to mock people to show when they’re being ridiculous, something he does here through being purposefully careless. It’s both to point out how ridiculous Grian’s being and a way to punish him for being so obsessive. Instead of having the intended effect, Scar just pushes Grian further away. He later winds up just following everything Grian says, which doesn’t address the root of the problem here. Except he has no way of knowing what’s wrong because Grian doesn’t tell him. From his perspective, the only thing that got Grian back at his side was murder- since the only times they actually stood on equal footing was when there was a plan for a kill or when that plan went well. Scar’s conclusion here isn’t that he was unsafe, but that he was boring. So it reaffirms that he’s in the right and Grian was being unreasonable

BigB is not and never was the mistress in this situation. Had Grian never approached him, he would’ve never left Ren. He was using his Secret Soulmate as an escape from normal relationship problems he was too scared to address. BigB mainly felt overlooked because he has a quieter personality than Ren, meaning Ren wound up making most decisions for the two of them. BigB did a lot to mirror Ren and to be Ren’s other half, but didn’t give himself space to be his own person in the relationship. This is something that’s brought up in couple’s counseling and something they at least started to address before dying. BigB never intended to hurt either of them, since he did love and value both Ren and Grian- something that’s affirmed by how he talks to them after dying. BigB and Ren talk about how they stayed together until the end and B takes the time to forgive Grian for murdering both him and his soulmate

Ren was doing his best to keep Box afloat but failed to meet BigB’s needs. Since B wouldn’t communicate what was wrong, Ren kept trying to course correct in ways that inadvertently made the situation worse. Ren’s instinct is to be protective- to find an enemy to defend against. That enemy was first Pearl and then Clockduo when Bdubs inadvertently got BigB killed. He also reacted to news of B cheating by distancing himself from BigB. Which, reasonable!! Ren wasn’t obligated to save them if B was the one who left. However, this action only pushed BigB away since Ren was so quick to assume they were over. Ren has a habit of isolating himself when something’s wrong, assuming the worst of a situation when things can be fixed. It worked out between him and BigB in the end but goddamn was that rough

Anyways the four of them are very!! Very messy, I love them dearly

[ahllohehn]

Gem's area ,or whatever the Oracle has, has two kinds of decorations cute cottagecore stuff, and spooky stuff like skulls and stuff

An excerpt from the Camp Oracle's Journal:

"I put some fairy lights and curtains around the cave to make it seem homier. I also made a really wide tent filled with blankets and pillows to add up to the comfiness. After all, it was going to be my home for the next few weeks until I had to go back to school. Actually, it’s gonna be my home for the next summers to come!

There’s not much yet, but I hope to add more soon. Grian’s sister, Pearl, came to visit for a while to get a look at the new oracle (aka me). She was really nice! She helped me out on setting up the decorations around my cave and even gave me an old plushie of hers to add to my tent.

It was a well-loved wolf plushie, if the way the seams were already threatening to burst from just how much it’s been hugged, probably.

I didn’t want to take it at first because, you know, sentimental value! I couldn’t just take away her childhood plushie! But she was really adamant about giving it to me. She reasoned that Tilly (the name of the plushie, by the way) would be safer with me than it was with Grian.

Pearl couldn’t take the plushie with her because she’s always on the move with the goddess Artemis, Hunters of Artemis duties and all that. “It’d be a shame if it got lost mid-expedition,” she said.

And who was I to reject after that reason, you know? So now I have little Tilly living with little Gem in the super comfy and cool Oracle cave!"

Thank you for continuing to read! Have a tour of what's inside of Gem's cave:

COMFY CORNER OF THE CAVE

Cat beanbags and plushies - The cat beanbag is customized to look like Jellie. It was mainly put there during times Scar comes by to hang out with her so he wouldn't have to stay for too long on his wheelchair while visiting.

Seawater rug - Personally sewed by Xisuma after hearing that Gem had interest in marine biology. He wanted her to feel happier when resting in her cave since the cave was too far from the shore and the sea.

Aquatic animal plushies - Impulse and Skizz excitedly came over to give her fish plushies as a welcome gift. The clownfish is named Skizzy. The shark is named Impy, named accordingly to who gave which.

Small foldable table - Gem doesn't fold it often as she keeps her art stuff on it. She draws and makes the pins here.

BY THE WALL

Skull-shaped fairy lights - Not always green in color, but she keeps it green to make everything feel creepy. She had normal fairy lights before this but Cleo jokingly replaced it with string lights she bought during Halloween. Gem liked it so she kept it.

Worn out sword / Worn out shield - Not hers to begin with. They're actually normal weapons Etho had forged as practice before. He gifts them to Gem everytime she wins a spar against him to act as 'spoils of war.'

DESK / CURTAINED SIDE

Desk - There's chairs facing each other on each side of the table. This is where she mainly meets the campers for personal prophecies.

A line of potted plants along the wall - Bdubs offered to give her plants he thinks Gem would like to care for. There's mostly small sunflowers and succulents along the wall. One of the potted plants grew a particular one Gem never saw before. It was only when Pearl came over and questioned why she had a moonlace flower in her cave that she realized she was growing a magical plant. Bdubs never answered as to why he gave it to her.

TENT

Where Gem mainly sleeps. In here, you will never feel uncomfy as she's probably got 20 pillows and 5 blankets in there. Pearl's old plushie, Tilly, lives there with her. Grian asks to come in and cuddle with it when he has a particularly rough day.

about au au tag discord

[inkieflame]

Some of us float (And some of us sink to the bottom)

A Tango and Docm oneshot

Word count: 3100

Trigger warnings: drugs, needles/injections, drawing blood, body horror, dissection, human experimentation

Author's note: Oh, it's a long one guys! And worth it! But, uh, if you hate needles or body horror this might not be the oneshot for you.

Aka: Tango has an experiment with Doc scheduled, and it goes exactly as Doc planned it

Tango knows something is wrong when he doesn’t receive his medication.

Again.

The first time he assumed it was a mistake. A fluke. He quietly enjoyed his day of energy, sticking to his room in hopes that the Watchers wouldn’t notice he was awake. And then he second day it got suspicious, but Tango still didn’t mention it. He ventured to the lobby, had a lovely, full and awake conversation with Impulse, and then enjoyed the rest of the day in the practice room. It was nice.

But this was day three.

And something between suspicion and dread was boiling in his stomach.

He knew exactly why when he checked his schedule for that day. No rental, but he did have an experiment. Just one. Just one experiment scheduled from one in the afternoon, all the way into the evening.

Just one experiment.

With Doc.

Oh.

Tango hangs his schedule on the back of his door again, and sits down on his bed. He resists the urge to curl his knees up to his chin.

Doc had talked the Watchers into another experiment? And of all the subjects here, Doc wanted the experiment with Tango?

Nausea churns in his stomach.

It was rare to run into Doc around the lab. In the early days, Doc had taken over almost half of the practice room, turning it into his own little laboratory where he continued to conduct the science he’d apparently been working on before his capture. But his work was disruptive, and prevented the other subjects from using the practice room, so the Watchers gave Doc an extra unused room to move his equipment into. Nowadays he spends all his days locked in his little lab.

Doc is always so passive with the Watchers. They never bother him, except to monitor his work and sometimes praise his progress. He’s like their favorite pet, and he know it, preening under their gaze.

And because of this, he holds a terrifying power over everyone else.

Tango nervously stands up, if only to release his newly pent-up energy. He opens his door and paces feverishly down the hallway. He pauses in briefly in the lobby to check the single clock that hangs over the door to the practice room.

Bdubs is sitting directly in front of the door, watching the clock like it might betray the time if he looks away from it, counting, murmuring each number under his breath. Tango is convinced Bdubs thinks the time will stop if he doesn’t keep track of it himself.

Lunch, Tango thinks. Lunch before the experiment because Tango isn’t sure when he’ll be able to have dinner, and he doesn’t want to be hungry.

In the end his lunch goes unfinished, because the Watchers come looking to take him away. Scar and Cub watch them warily from the other end of the table, but the Watchers are there for Tango and no one else.

Tango let’s out a sigh, and stands up obediently. They walk him out of the room with little white remotes clutched in their hands, able to trigger a remote traq. Tango knows it’s because he’s no longer drugged. They’re taking extra precautions.

Tango is taken to an operating room, and that is worse than meeting in Doc’s lab.

The Goat sits up on the operating table casually, waiting for him when Tango pushes open the door.

“Tango Tek.” He greets, slipping down from the table to approach him.

Doc is a monstrous person. Tango doesn’t know if his body modifications are from himself or the Watchers, both possibilities unnerve him. He doesn’t even know what Doc was originally. He’s covered in green fur, and massive, although part of the size difference might come from the cyborg parts, the wires that crawl and twist along and under his skin.

His height is aided by the glossy black hooves he stands on. Twisted horns break the skin at both sides of his head, curling around his skull and framing his grin. His mouth is full of teeth, violent canines that Tango can’t mentally justify with any of the other creatures Doc seemed to be crossed with.

Disturbing pink insect wings flare behind him, acting as the most menacing backdrop Tango can fathom.

Doc takes his hand and shakes it, “we’re going to have a lovely time this afternoon.” He promises. Then he turns to the Watchers, “Thank you for bringing him, you may go.”

And just like that the Watchers leave.

Tango is alone with Doc.

“Have a seat.” Doc drawls, still smiling. He gestures to the operating table. “Have they skipped all your meds like I requested?”

Chills rush across Tango’s skin. His throat is dry, and he swallows.

“Yeah. No meds.” He confirms, not able to work up the confidence to move, let alone climb up on the operating table.

Doc nods pleasantly and notes something down on a clipboard, “Wonderful, wonderful.” He hums. Glancing up at Tango and seeing he still hadn’t moved, Doc nods at the table again, “Sit, please.” He repeats.

Tango shuffles over to the table, and with his heart pounding, pushes himself onto his deathbed. The table is covered in a thick foam, with old pinholes littered across the surface. His stomach churns anxiously. He’s going to throw up.

“It’s good to have you, Tango, I’ve been wanting to take a good look at you for a while now.” Doc says, leaning against the head of the table, “it’s good to know that the Watchers are finally starting to trust me with their…” he prods Tango with his pen, “…more valuable assets.”

Tango can’t help but curl away from the touch. He echoes, “valuable assets?”

Docs nods, turning away to fetch something from the nearby countertop, “not counting the tribes in the nether, blazeborn only make up five to eight percent of the general population. It would be difficult for them to find a replacement for you if I were… irresponsible.”

Tango laughs nervously, “but you’re responsible. Right?”

Doc doesn’t turn around to look back at him, “you’ll survive.”

There is a beat of silence, in which Tango contemplates how far he’d be able to make it if he tried to sprint out the door. Would the Watchers just drag him back here?

“your rarity, of course, is exactly why I wanted to examine you.” Doc continues, wings buzzing softly behind him. “My old laboratory didn’t have anywhere near the resources that this one does. I haven’t been able to dissect a blazeborn yet.”

Tango doesn’t like the word “dissect” or the way that Doc has now turned to look at him with a hunger in his eyes. His mechanical parts click as he paces back to the operating table, carrying a few tools. Tango can see the antifreeze that pumps methodically inside the tubes along his metal arm. Tango doesn't like that either.

In fact, Tango dislikes most things about this situation.

Doc sets his supplies on the cart next to the table Tango is on, “Hold still. This shouldn’t hurt.”

Tango stiffens as Doc grabs a jar and a pair of tongs. Doc uses the tongs to carefully grip each blazerod crowning Tango’s head, and put them into the jar. They resist, clearly wanting to stay in orbit around his head, but Doc pulls them out with a tug.

“And you have no allergies? No medical deformities?” Doc asks, screwing the lid right on the jar and putting it on the bottom shelf of the cart.

Tango hesitates, “Not that I know of.” He says at last.

Doc chuckles, “you don’t have to be nervous. I ask so we don’t have complications. I want you alive.”

Alive, Doc says. But not unharmed.

Doc takes a syringe from the cart, with a long tube attached that curls and dips down to a collection container on the bottom of the cart. “Arm?” he prompts.

The unease that has been turning in Tango spikes. He instinctively shrinks away from the needle. Doc looks as though he’s both annoyed and amused.

“Just drawing blood.” He says, “I need a sample.”

So Tango holds out a shaky arm and allows Doc to put the needle to the inside of his arm. There is a click and hiss, and Tango has to will himself to not flinch when he feels the metal bite into his skin. Doc hums as he disconnects the needle from the tube, and puts a sticker over the injection site to hold the tube in place.

“Don’t remove that.” Doc instructs. “Are you prone to fainting?” Tango shakes his head, while Doc bends to turn on the blood pump, “Okay. If you feel yourself getting lightheaded, lay down on the table.”

The suction of the blood drawing can be felt immediately. Tango watches the red as it flows down the wire in his arm and to the cart. He feels dizzy within a few seconds, but he’s not eager to lay out on the operation table, so instead he takes several deep breaths and tries to distract himself.

“What tests are you running?” He asks.

Doc is reading over some charts he has on the counter, “Various things. I’ll run the standard blood tests later, since I can do those without you present. We’re going to record your height to weight ratio too, and I’d like a sample of your hair.”

Tango feels like he might pass out soon, but he manages, “my hair?”

Doc holds up a piece of paper, and looks back and forth between it and Tango, “It has curious physics.” He says, putting down the paper, “Do the Watchers cut it often?”

Tango would explain to him that blazeborn hair doesn’t need to be cut, and that the length is based on his environment which is why the blazeborn tribes in the nether had such long hair. But he was sleepy, and slumping, and sweetly falling into soft nothing.

Doc catches him before he hits his head on the table. It’s difficult to think straight, but he can feel Doc laying him out on the table. He can see his shadow, his twisted horns, in the corner of his vision.

“Careful.” Doc chides. Tango can hear the gentle whir and clicking of the fans inside Doc’s mechanical arm. It sounds like the hiss and crackle of the fire at home.

Despite Tango fainting, Doc doesn’t turn off the pump. He stands over Tango, passively monitoring as the collection vat fills.

“I feel sick.” Tango mumbles.

“I know.” Is all Doc answers with.

When the vat is full, Doc turns the pump off. Tango blinks sleepily at him, watching as the container is removed from the cart and taken to the counter. Doc labels it “Blazeborn – Tango” and sets it next to several other glass vats labeled with other races and names.

“One thirty? Is that normal?” Doc asks, and Tango struggles to comprehend the question. Doc writes something down on his clipboard and then eyes Tango, “Ready to stand?”

Tango groans, and pushes himself upright. Doc helps him to his feet.

“Stand to the wall by the door. Against the measurements.”

Tango walks to the wall, forcing himself to move through his slowly easing vertigo. He puts his back to the measurements on the wall, and Doc makes more notes on his clipboard. He pushes Tango’s hair down with the tongs from before so he can see the correct measurement.

“Five six.” Doc mumbles, and Tango is guided back to the table to lay down. “Are you experiencing any dietary issues? You don’t weigh enough for your height.”

Tango stares at the bright lights above him as the world slowly comes back to him, “That, uh, that’s normal.” He makes out, “I’m… blaze- uh, normally light.”

There is a pause. Tango can hear Doc shuffling and writing, and then he comes back over to him. His hooves click as they strike the tiles. The cloud over Tango’s brain lifts enough for him to notice Doc is gently wrapping restraints around his wrists and ankles.

“mmh, don’t.” Tango muffles, pulling away.

Doc just holds firm to his wrist and says, “You’ll hurt yourself if you thrash like this.” And waits until Tango’s limited energy fails him again. And then Tango is tied down arms over his head. Doc goes to the head of the table. “look up at me?” he prompts, and when Tango instinctively glances at his voice, Doc wraps another strap of cloth around his forehead to keep his head still. His skull is cradled by the foam of the table.

“The Watchers would kill me if I let you get a concussion.” Doc grins down at him, but the joke isn’t warm and his smile is hungry.

“What now?” Tango asks. His pulse flutters weakly in his fingertips.

“Now is the best part.” Doc lifts something from his cart that he can’t see.

He waits a few beats of awful suspension before there is a pitch at his arm, and the hiss of an injection gun. His nausea returns full force.

“Going to give that a few minutes to set in.” Doc says sweetly, “Don’t worry, you shouldn’t feel a thing.”

Tango dreads to know what he’s been injected with. It doesn’t take effect very quickly, but as the minutes tick by he realizes with dull dread that he cannot feel his fingers.

He’s numb.

“Feel that?” Doc asks.

Tango can’t tell where he’s been prodded, and his anxiety from earlier has eased. He tries to shake his head, but finds he’s still trapped in place, so he sighs softly, “No.”

“Fantastic.” Doc murmurs. He’s quietly cutting Tango’s shirt open. “Deep breath for me.”

Tango takes a slow, deep breath, unable to stretch into it when his hands are restrained above his head. Doc hums in approval.

He continues to cut away, pausing temporary to reach for another tool. Tango tries not to think about what Doc might do to him next. It’s easy. The drug he was injected with makes his brain cozy, in a way that his daily meds don’t. Normally his exhaustion only weighed on his body, but this is easy to lean back into.

Doc moved back to his cart for something else. As he moves back to Tango’s shirt, he can see several pins. From the angle his head is strapped down, he can’t see what Doc does with them. He can’t feel anything, but it sounds like Doc is pinning the front of his shirt open, pressing pins into the foam of the table.

“Deep breath in.” Doc prompts again. Tango complies, and Doc mutters, “Interesting.” Before scribbling on his clipboard again.

“What are you doing?” Tango mumbles.

Doc peers at him with a frown, as though contemplating how much Tango should know. “Dissection.” He says at last.

Tango frowns, “dissecting what?”

“You.” Doc makes another note on his clipboard, “Your insides are fascinating. Do you know what this organ is called?” he points near Tango’s sternum.

Tango thinks he would feel ill if he could feel at all, “My insides?” he manages weakly. He strains to look at himself, but he is firmly stuck in place.

“This one attached to your lungs,” Doc clarifies, realizing that Tango can’t see where he’s pointing, “Its moving when you breathe. What does it do?”

Tango is going to be sick. He’s going to throw up. He’s going to pass out. He will, he will.

“…Filter.” Doc decides, prodding at it a final time, “For all the nether ash.”

He takes another tool and investigates lower inside Tango’s chest. Tango’s breathing comes out rough and anxiously. He can’t breathe. He can’t. He can’t think. He fights against the restraints, but they hold steady.

Doc has him pinned open, and exposed, and he’s dying and weak and drugged and freaking terrified.

“Stop.” Tango chokes around his tight throat and panic, “please, I don’t-”

“You don’t need to worry.” Doc soothes, “The Watchers would end me if I killed their…” he searches for the correct world for a moment, before simply settling on, “Blazeborn.”

“Please.” Tango struggles to breath. His tears prick in his eyes, “please.”

Doc writes another note, and continues, “You won’t die. Can you give me another deep breath?”

Tango shakes through his panic, fighting his body. Deep breath. Deep breath. Please, please, just breathe.

“Good job.” Doc murmurs softly, “just like that.”

He pokes around some more, writing little notes in his clipboard and making small comments that Tango can’t make out. It’s all he can do to just breathe and breathe and hope Doc will be done soon.

Please be done soon.

Please.

“Kidneys are struggling.” Doc mumbles, “probably the heavy medication…”

Tango shutters, “how long?”

“Just a little longer.” Doc promises, “you’ve been so lovely and cooperative for me. You should give notes to Cleo.”

“…Okay.” Tango breathes.

The last several minutes pass in numb agony. Tango focuses on his breathing, suppressing the crushing panic that’s ever closing in. His cheeks are cold from crying.

He isn’t paying attention anymore by the time Doc starts to sew him up again. The pinch of the needle is hidden under the wave of drugs Tango is still floating in.

“The Watchers won’t schedule you for at least three days so you can heal. No extra medication, and be sure to eat plenty.” Doc is saying, as he ties the last knot into his skin. “I’ll see you again in a few days to check on the healing. Ask the Watchers for extra painkillers if you need them.”

Tango blinks at him though the haze of numbness. His heart is still panicked, and breathing is hard, but he’s so weak. So weak.

Doc gently undoes the restraints, “don’t stretch when you sit up.” He instructs.

Tango pulls into himself the moment he’s free. Everything is numb, and empty, and vulnerable, and weak.

“You’ve done a wonderful job, thank you.” Doc praises softly. “there should be Watchers right outside to take you back to your room. You’ll want to sleep for a while before you move much.”

Tango mumbles and nods, struggling to push upright. He’s got pale stitches in a capital “i” shape along his chest and stomach. Nausea rolls over him harshly. He gags.

Doc just nods, looking over his notes, “The numbing will wear off before tomorrow.” He says, discarding his clipboard and easing Tango off the operating table.

His legs give out immediately. Tango clings to Doc with the last of his dying strength, trying not to fall.

He’s walked to the door as Doc continues his thought, “if you heal up quickly, maybe the Watchers will let me take a look at their demon too…”

Tango is helped to his room by a Watcher, and then by Impulse and Pearl when it’s clear he needs more help.

He crashes on his bed, and is out almost immediately.

Meanwhile Doc begins his tests.

[fountainpenguin]

Tango POV Session 3 highlights (My first POV this session, jumping in with no spoilers)-

Skizz: "I want a giant blinking heart in the sky" Tango: "Cool idea :) You're doing the redstone, right?" Skizz: ... Tango: "YOU'RE doing the redstone for that, right?"

Skizz: "While editing I was like... 'Am I a loser?' Tango: "No, no, no! It was well before editing that I realized that."

I do love the server dynamics that give us gems like Mumbo sprinting across the ground yelling about how he has a quick, urgent thing he needs to do... Just an average day in the death game.

slkdjf Tango and Skizz finally found someone just as desperate and needy as them... Enter the man who has been shunned for 3 seasons because of his boogeyman kill. We love a BigB!!

BigB: "Skizz, this might be time to point out my weak building skills-" Skizzleman: "Oh no, don't worry. That's why we've got ourselves a Tango!" Tango: /incoherent shrieking and denials

Tango assigned homemaker by the narrative.

So just to be clear, we've got Tango "I will teach you redstone and cheer you on" (Mansplain), we've got BigB "There is no hole in the mesa" (Manipulate), and Skizz "I built the base" (Malewife). Good for them.

Skizz: "At my IRL job when I had to create blinking lights, I literally had someone go back to the breaker and flip it."

Tango, to Cleo: "That's all we are! Cringe 'R' Us!"

sdlkfj Tango hugging and comforting Torchy over how scary Etho's water bucket attack was. "If he comes back, I will take care of this."

BigB: "I have an anvil." Tango and Skizz losing their minds: "BEST TEAMMATE EVER!"

Heart Foundation: "We will join forces and gift our hearts to a randomly selected person. Everyone will like and protect us; we are creating our own plot armor." Etho, immediately after receiving his hearts: "I am a huge fan. Sign me up. Whatever I need to do to stay on. I will let you use the enchanting table. I would be dead if it were not for the Heart Foundation."

Gem and Scott riding up on their zombie and skeleton horses would be SO terrifying. Can't wait to see the fanart of that sdfklj

Tango killed it this session, he did not cut corners in babbling to Torchy.

Gem: "I think your task is to remove light sources from the server." Tango: "That would be very incorrect." Tango as he sprints away, muttering to Torchy: "I know?? They were standing right by us and they didn't even notice??"

Torchy has such boogeyman tendencies, geez. Is this Leven Thumps; did we confine the spirit of the boogeyman to a piece of wood??

Tango, raiding someone's base: "You want to? We could."

I enjoy the new rule about Yellows having one chance to call people out on their task. I think this is a good move to up the tension and also encourage people to do it because you only get one shot per episode. Don't wanna waste it!

slkdjf @ Tango chatting with Etho, Etho susses out his task, so Tango immediately runs to Grian to confirm the rules. Grian tells him no problem, Etho's green so he's in the clear. Tango runs off crowing in laughter.

Lizzie: "I've heard some weird things about you." Tango: "We are excellent today." Lizzie: "That's the weird stuff I've been hearing."

?? Is Tango's official canon that redstone exposure turned his eyes red? Neat.

lksdjf Skizz seething about Impulse.

Tango: "What did he do?" Skizz: "His task was to find somebody who's got greater than 25 hearts and find a way to - air quotes - "accidentally" get them to lose 5 hearts. So he made sure I lost 20."

Yeah, that tracks.

Freaking goodness, Tango put his entire heart and soul into this invisible friend task.

Bdubs' globe is looking amazing <3

?? Etho running up to Joel and saying "I love you?" What is the context; looking forward to figuring that out.

Etho: "I love you." Joel: "Okay, I know you're obsessed with me, I saw you made me your thumbnail of your first episode, but come on..."

Called out at the end!!! Devastating!!!

That is the end, but what a great session. So much death...

[viriv]

Ho boy, back on my rendog bullsh*t

Anyways, I couldn't stop thinking about ren's season 9 king arc and how it fits so well in a lore stand point for his character.

Part of my analysis is influenced by a personal headcanon of mine that after the life series seasons, that the characters dont retain their memories from the events, but that those memories aren't erased just moved to the back of the characters subconscious. But that when characters are exposed to similar situations or people who were present during the events, those memories can come to the surface.

For context about half way through season 9 of hermitcraft ren is crowned king of the server by Bdubs, he plays along and starts off as a pretty eccentric king but one with good intentions, making quests for the hermits that involve them improving the server. But slowly he starts to descend into madness, he's more irritable, snaps back at others, and starts making poor decisions as a king. He even begins to show wear and tear from being king as his hair grows grey. By the end of the ren the king story arc he is defeated by NAR (not a resistance) headed by the soup group, consisting of pearl, gem, and impulse. Were never given a "proper" explanation as to why ren's character starts to exhibit the white hair, the assumption is he's going mad with power and the white hair is a physical manifestation of that, or that the crown itself was making him mad.

The thing that has me going mad, is the insane parallels, unintentionally no less, between ren's period as king on hermitcraft and his time as king during third life. That perhaps the immense similarities between the two events is what causes ren to go from a lovable king to a hated and mad one. Picture this, ren is crowned king by Bdubs with no other explanation, he plays along because he's always down for some shenanigans with his fellow hermits and besides the faint nagging voice in the back of his mind he sees nothing wrong with it. Things are fine at first, but as the days progress the voice gets louder, this crown is too small, it should be bigger shouldn't it? this robe feels strange, shouldn't it be fur? then it becomes more physical manifestations. He keeps feeling like there's something dripping down his face, he's more paranoid, more jumpy, constantly checking over his shoulder for something. It doesn't help that the main opposers of ren the king are grian and impulse, who both also happened to oppose him during third life, one being his direct enemy and one a traitor. Bdubs who initially placed himself as ren's right hand man in order to benefit from being at the kings side, also is a trigger for ren as his green cloak is constantly giving ren glimpses of another green cladded fellow. Throughout the arc his memories of being the red king have been trying to rise to the surface, the red king persona who is still vengeful is trying to gain back control and finish what he started. Up until the end ren has regressed back into the red king persona and thinks that everything is an active threat on his life. It takes a good respawn and removing himself from any sort of kingly environment that he finally is himself again and to this day in season 10, ren still believes it was just the crown and the responsibilities of being a leader that got to him, little does he know that those unexplained periods of memory fog have anything to do with his behavior.

[chickensoup1025]

ddvauau - reading together

(with @bluebblurry)

"Hiiii…" Grian draped himself over the back of Scar, his arms loosely hanging around Scar's neck. "What doin'?"

"Hey, birdie." Scar kissed the skin of Grian's arm he could reach without moving and tilted his phone to give Grian a better view.

"Wanna guess which season I'm reading without scrolling?"

Grian loved a challenge. "Sure!" He cuddled in closer to see better (and hold his boyfriend more) and read over the page.

Tango looked up in despair at seeing his base burning to the ground. Again.

Grian hummed. "So this is either Secret or Wild Life I see."

"Stupid SCAR!" He roared, wishing he wasn't a green name for once so he could enact immediate revenge. Bdubs came running over, for once trying to be a good teammate and warn him about the arson. "IT'S ON FIRE, TANGO, YOUR BASE!" "Yeah, I can see that!"

Grian laughed. "Easy mode, man! Wild Life."

"Good job!" Scar applauded.

"I'll even do you one better. The wild card was... snails."

"Wow my boyfriend is so impressive." Scar twisted to kiss his cheek proudly. "Or a huge nerd for knowing that."

"Hey! You're the one rereading the damn thing." Grian squeezed his middle.

----

(SO! Fun fact, this all started and revolves around the life series being a fanfiction Grian and Scar read and how it encourages them to get together in real life!)

[whereispearlescentmoon]

Wild Life Pearl POV Live Reaction

Ooooo super powers!!

Sick ass guitar riff!

SHE CAN LAUNCH SUPER HIGH IN THE AIR?? I do wonder if she would be taking fall damage. Not that I want to risk it.

Impulse can teleport? CLEO SUMMONS ZOMBIES!! SKIZZ AND MUMBO ARE BACK!!! BDUBS CAN SLEEP THROUGH THE NIGHT! BIGB GETS CREAKINGS?!?

Invisible Jimmy?

Scott can become random animals!!! Perfect for subterfuge :)

Ghoul 1 and Ghoul 2!

Oh I just realized Pearl can leap super high. And she has a mace. And she doesn’t take fall damage from it! Hell yeah.

Ooo I’m gonna watch Cleo’s pov after this to see what convo with mumbo and Skizz.

Speedy boy Tango! Ooo Etho and Pearl have the same power.

They were slain? And she can bring them back every five minutes? Ah beautiful necromancy. DID CLEO DIRECT THEM TO MAKE FUN OF GRIAN?? AHSIWHWJAKHSJA

Bdubs can slow time? Makes sense for clock boy lol.

So Gem can speak to the dead? NO SHE CAN ASTRAL PROJECT?? SO SHE CAN GO IN SPECTATOR MODE??

Oh we’re friends with Ren now? Beautiful. Just like Last Life.

RIP Scar.

“Gem, I know you’re looking at me” Jeez Louise Pearl. And she breaks her mace right after. A beautiful wet cat move. Those aspiring wet cats can truly learn from her.

Ooo Impulse can swap places with people.

GRIAN CAN BORROW POWERS?? Watcher ass activities. SHE CAN FLY?

Oh does Tango freeze water when he runs on it?

Trap time! And Tanguini is here! Wait that’s how calibrated skulk sensors work?

And another failed trap….. Pearl has failed to kill Gem again… my beautiful pathetic wet cat.

Love their beautiful cane tower now has cherries.

Cleo ordered them to go kill Grian! I somehow doubt this will succeed.

Ren CAN BE OTHER PEOPLES SKIN???

MUMBO GOT THE KILL! W FOR CLEO AND MUMBO IN MY BOOK!

Oooo Scott can choose a mob if he clicks on it!

I am shocked that BigB’s face remains unburnt down.

Ooo Bdubs killed by Scar.

I need fanart of Pearl’s cute hat. HOW DID SHE GET POISONED?

“I did tell you not to fix it. I said don’t bother man” Yes Pearl I know and the way you said it made me go actually insane.

SCOTT ACTUALLY GOT THE KILL ON GEM! GGGG WIN.

Cleo died to a creeper. GGGG loss.

“Hey! My eyes yellow! Can’t be stealing my eyeball”

“This is my skin from last season! You can’t *incomprehensible*!”

“I mean what’s hilarious is you’ve gone for different eyes. So you two have basically just shared contact lenses,”

“This is the eye I lost in the portal that you didn’t remember.”

“Oh sorry. Guess it wasn’t important enough to remember” DAMN PEARL IS GETTING SASSY WITH GEM TODAY LOL

Skizz wants to talk to Impulse privately?

Glad to hear that while Skizz struggles, Mumbo has been a great minion for Cleo. Cleo once again picks a favorite son.

“Minions are to be seen not heard” HAKAHWIANAB Scott I love you

Ooooh wait. That’s why Pearl said cockroaches. Because Skizz and Mumbo can’t die.

And the only thing it killed was Mumbo. GGGG loss.

JUST LISTEN TO PEARL THEY CANT RUN FROM END CRYSTALS!

YEAH THEY GOT REN! GGGG WIN!

Not Pearl pulling out the creeper eggs lol.

Oooo Martyn’s proxy chat is way turned up.

Bdubs on red! BDUBS SHOUTING AND CATCHPHRASE ANS MISSING LOL. Martyn on red! Scott on yellow!

Gem was getting boring because she wouldn’t stop complaining about how Scott and Impulse killed her? And how much better she is than their team? Guess Pearl can stop worrying about seeming obsessed lol. Seems the GGGG live in Gem’s mind rent free.

Oh never mind. The cockroach spoiler was about Tango! And how they keep failing to kill him because he’s so fast! That makes sense!

“They’re trying to get everyone off green and little do they know, you’re technically green as long as you use that, right?”

“Right, yeah,”

“A secret green. Like you got so much potential. I swear like, you better win the series, mate,” Where have I heard this before *flashbacks to Pearl and Bdubs in Secret Life*

“I’m trying Pearl.”

“You have a big advantage.”

“I’m trying but this whole lack of being able to kill people isn’t boding well for us is it?”

“No dude. I can’t believe how much I’m sucking this season. I suck so bad.” It’s okay your pathetic wet cat nature is charming.

“I cannot get a kill to save my life.” Yours too buddy.

Joel got hoppies!

Are we literally all meeting up to kill Tango? No wonder Pearl called him a cockroach.

Aaaaand Gem killed Mumbo.

This is actually super epic for tango. The whole server is failing to kill him!

GGGG has taken down Tango and Joel! Two wins!

Omg Jimmy tried to kill Pearl. Congrats to Jay for a single Pearl and Jimmy interaction where Pearl didn’t even see him. I’m sorry.

Cleo is scared of Gem and Pearl just isn’t lol.

“Oh that’s so weird to see me like that. Is that how annoying I look?” Ur not annoying :( your skin looks really cool.

Tango on red!

Pearl! That’s somehow significantly nastier than calling them eyes.

BYE BYE MARTYN!

Oh no Pearl and Scott :( WAIT HI SCARLET PEARL!!! HI!!! HI!!

She commented on the red hoodie! She noticed their skins match!

Ren joined them? We have… six Gs at this point?

End of session! I see why Martyn was being super cryptic when someone asked how the session went. I think next session will probably be the last given how much of the server is on red, and that’s there’s no greens left to get lives back. Unless you count Impulse, I guess.

My final thoughts on the wild card are that it’s super fun! I love that they all got their own unique power, especially because some of the powers seem to be themed to them specifically like Cleo’s zombies and Bdubs having time manipulation!

[mcytadventevent]

mungbean is creating for Day Twenty One!

Prompt: Sky / Stars

Her piece is written, featuring all of the life series members!

Credit Links:

https://archiveofourown.org/users/madame_mungbean

https://www.instagram.com/madame_mungbean

(Piece below the cut!)

 Left No Crumbs

Flurries of white specks fell from the void above. The frigid temperatures had teeth sharp enough to bite through the thickness of his coat and puncture his skin, while each breath produced a puff of fog. He trudged through dense snow, arms quivering while staggered street lights pop on as the sun sinks below the horizon. His face was numb when he finally arrived at the door of Lizzie and Joel’s house, where all the Lifers had decided to gather before Christmas. They wanted to craft, help decorate, and just spend time together in the off-season, since some of them would be busy during the holiday and some were going out of town.

After a simple knock, the door swung open to a welcoming expression. Lizzie. She was dressed in a purple sweater. “BigB! You made it!” Catching his gaze on her outfit, she stretched the sweater before her. The long-sleeve contained an abstract silhouette of a small person with wings. Various colored, mini pom poms were glued around it, and the whole thing was overly garnished with glitter. “What do you think? Pretty ugly right? It’s supposed to be an angel.” She stepped aside to let him in.

It did look hideous, but something about the placement of the fuzzy balls reminded BigB of flowers, and with it, past memories. “It looks more like a fairy to me.” He stepped past her, hanging his coat with the pile of others on the hooks by the door. Swinging around, he gestured to his own sweater. “What do you think of mine? Eh…? Eh…?”

His green sweater held drawn strings of multicolored lights across it and a melted cookie with a wonky face at its center. “Oh… it’s wonderful!” Lizzie exaggerated, gaining a laugh from BigB. Lizzie waved a hand. “The rest of them are in here.” She guided him through the house and into a conjoined dining and living room filled with laughter, bickering, light music, and familiar faces. The refreshing scent of pine danced in the air, along with a faint smell of cinnamon and vanilla.

“BigB!” numerous voices welcomed, then returned to their activities.

Grian, Scar, Etho, and Bdubs were circled around a board game on the living room floor. Behind them was an L-shaped couch that faced a fireplace and an empty pine tree. Cleo sat cross-legged on the couch, munching on a bowl of popcorn while watching Martyn, Ren, Scott, and Jimmy sorted through ornaments from a tote box on each side of the pine and placing them on a small table. A short step ladder also rested beside the tree for later decorating of the top. Behind them all stood a wooden dining table where Gem, Pearl, Impulse, Skizz, Tango, and Mumbo played various games, such as Jenga and Uno.

“Now if you’ll excuse me…” Lizzie began. “I must attend to the-”

“Cookies?” BigB finished with the peak of his brow.

“How’d you know?”

Tapping his nose, BigB jokingly responded, “My nose can smell cookies from miles away.”

Lizzie laughed as she exited the room, leaving BigB in the room of growing chaos. Martyn was the first to call him over, “Hey BigB! Want to help us decorate the tree?”

“Sure!”

Grian exchanged a smile with BigB as he passed the group on the floor. Scar flung Grian a side eye, while popping a small peppermint candy cane into his mouth, “Well, Grian? Make your next move, carefully.”

“This game is too long,” Grian complained, tossing a pair of dice on the Monopoly board and moving his metallic hat across its properties.

Scar smiled all too brightly, leaning towards him with a wink, “But we can finally have a monopoly.”

“What makes you think this will turn out any different than our previous attempts?” Grian shot back.

Lizzie re-entered the room with a large plate of cookies. She crossed the loud space, placing the dish on a small table that sat on the border of both rooms. “Excuse me everyone!” Lizzie attempted through the cacophony of voices. “Excuse me!” She waited till all heads turned to her, most of them did. “Do not eat the cookies until I get back!”

“You got it!” Martyn shouted from beside the tree. She nodded towards him and escaped the room.

On the floor, Scar was next to move his pawn across the Monopoly board when he landed on a sensitive space: Liverpool St. Station. “I think I’ll purchase this railroad,” he announced, placing his money in the bank.

“NO!” Bdubs screamed. “YOU CAN’T HAVE THAT TRAIN! THAT’S MINE!”

“Now Bdubs, that’s not how business works,” Scar crossed his arms with the shake of his head.

“HOW COULD YOU! THAT WAS MY ONLY PURPOSE IN THIS GAME! I WANTED ALL THE TRAINS!”

“So how about,” Etho interjected. “I make you a deal, Scar.”

Scar’s brows raised at the word “deal” as he scooted a little closer. “I’m listening…”

Grian perked up, “No, Etho. Don’t make a deal with him. He’ll find some way to scam you.”

Scar sifted through his property cards. “Now Grian, Etho wants to make a deal. Let the man speak.”

“I’ll trade you Vine Street if you give Bdubs his last railroad,” Etho proposed.

“Well, you see, Liverpool St. Station costs more than Vine Street. However, if you throw in Marlborough Street, we have a deal.”

“Then you’ll have all three orange properties.”

“Those are my terms.” Scar shrugged with a crafty smile.

“Alright, give Bdubs Liverpool St. Station, give me The Angel Islington, and I’ll give you both Vine Street and Marlborough Street.” Etho finalized.

Scar scratched his chin before extending his palm towards Etho. “Deal.” They shook hands, then exchanged cards.

Upon receiving his, Bdubs illuminated, almost bouncing as his grin widened. “THANK YOU ETHO!” He threw his arms around the man. “ISN’T HE JUST THE BEST!” Etho glanced away, offering no change in expression.

Joel entered the room and passed them with a tray of steaming mugs and a bag of marshmallows. Bdubs perked up, like a dog at the sound of his favorite toy. “IS THAT HOT CHOCOLATE!” His head snapped to Etho, locking gaze. “ETHO, YOU WANT ONE?” Etho shrugged. “I’LL TAKE THAT AS A YES!” Bdubs jumped to his feet and raced after the hot chocolate.

Joel set the tray on the dining table and called out for the room to hear, “Hot chocolate has arrived!”

Gem sprang to her feet, abandoning her Uno match with Pearl. As she did so, her knee knocked into the table, collapsing the intense game of Jenga beside her and causing an eruption of complaints. “Sorry guys,” she shrugged. “Hot chocolate.” Skizz stood next, followed by Tango. Skizz grabbed a second mug for Impulse while Tango got one for Mumbo.

“Hey Joel!” Ren called from across the room, positioned beside the tree.

“Yea?” Joel swung around to face him.

“We got the lights on, but do you have a piece for the top?”

Joel put a finger to his chin. “No, I don’t believe so.”

From the floor, Grian stood, puffing out his chest confidently. “Make way everyone, for I am the star!”

A handful of chuckles emitted from multiple people, while Martyn playfully responded, “Oh yeah? Then what are you doing on the floor? You’re supposed to be in the tree!”

“You’re not shiny either,” Jimmy added.

“Just watch, I’ll show off my brilliance!” Grain said, walking to a box by the pine, pulling out a strand of lights, and entangling himself in them.

Jimmy giggled, “What are you doing?”

Determined, Grain ignored him, hiding the step ladder behind the tree and ascending it. When his knees appeared above the tree, he threw his arms in opposite directions and widened his stance as far as the ladder allowed, assuming the shape of a star.

“Quick, someone plug him in!” Martyn shouted.

Joel raced to the back of the tree, grabbing an extension cord on the way. He took the plug dangling off Grian, connected it to his cord, and inserted it into an outlet—cueing a mixture of awes and laughter—and darted to the front.

“How do I look?” Grian asked, wrapped unevenly in dazzling white lights.

“Stunning!” Mumbo chuckled from the crowd of laughter that had gathered around the base of the tree to witness Grian’s shenanigans.

“Well, the tree is not going to decorate itself,” Grian urged light-heartedly.

A handful of people grabbed ornaments and placed them on the tree. Keeping his arms extended, Grian carefully repositioned himself, balancing on one leg and extending the other. For a split second, Jimmy thought he saw wings in Grian’s shadow, but he guessed it must have been the trick of the light. He watched as Martyn nearly placed a shiny red ornament on the tree when Grian glanced down and whispered, “Not right there…”

Martyn playfully said, “Oh why, all seeing one?”

Grian responded, “There’s too much red there, move it someplace else.”

The laughter continued until Tango emitted a loud and unsettling gasp. A cold breeze whisked through the room, snuffing out the only candle on the dining table. Everyone fell silent, turning to face Tango as the crackling fire laughed from the hearth. “The cookies are gone!”

“What!” Joel shoved his way past the crowd to find an empty plate on the small table that Lizzie had left them on. He placed his hands on his hips and faced the group. “Alright, who ate my wife’s cookies?”

Everyone glanced towards each other, but no one responded.

Grian stepped forth, clearing his throat. “Ahem, it looks like this calls for…”  he fisted his hands before his chest, securing a brown trench coat around his shoulders, a Deerstalker hat on his head, and straightened the glasses on his face. Removing a magnifying glass from an inside coat pocket, he threw it into the air. “An investigation!”

Jimmy rubbed his eyes, blinking a few times. Since when did Grian get a coat? Let alone down from the tree and untangled from the lights so quickly? He glanced around, but no one questioned it except for Mumbo who giggled, “Nice magnifying glass.”

Grian smiled, stepping beside Joel. “Alright. No one leaves this room until we find the perpetrator. Now… who’s got information regarding this incident?”

“PEARL WAS CLOSEST!” Bdubs exploded.

Pearl threw her hands up in defense, “Yeah, like I ate all those cookies in one go.”

“So there’s an accomplice…” Giran thought aloud, tapping his chin. “Maybe multiple.”

“It’s probably BigB,” Ren commented.

Everyone turned around, staring at BigB in his cookie sweater. He stared back at them, narrowing his eyes. “That’s just cold.”

“Skizz is looking pretty guilty right now,” Cleo chuckled from somewhere in the group. The crowd turned to Skizz. Fidgeting his fingers, his eyes widened as he glanced at all the staring faces.

“Okay! Everyone sit on the couch!” Grian instructed. People squeezed themselves onto the large couch, some sitting on the floor while others sat on the arms of the couch. Grian pulled over a wooden chair from the dining room and placed it in front for all to see. “Pearl you’re first, come sit in the chair.”

“Uh, okay.” She rose from the floor and sat in the chair. Joel flipped the light switches, transforming the room into a void where only one ceiling light cast a ray over the chair Pearl sat in, and the wavering light from the fireplace dimly illuminated the rest of the crew gathered on the couch.

“So,” Grian began. “What were you doing when Lizzie delivered the cookies?”

“Playing Uno with Scott and Cleo.”

“And then what happened?”

“Well, Scott went back to help decorate the tree and Cleo left to refill her snack.”

“Did you see either of them take a cookie?”

“Nope. Although, I continued playing Uno with Gem, so I didn’t see them afterwards.”

“Did either of you leave the table after that?” Grian turned his back to her.

“Yea, I went to the bathroom after Joel came with hot chocolate.”

Grian whipped around, throwing a finger at her. “Ah ha!”

“Please don’t start that again,” Martyn teased from the couch.

“But I didn’t take a cookie,” Pearl defended. “I came back and sat on the couch with Cleo and Gem.”

“Hmmm…” Grian rubbed a finger under his chin. “Then I call Cleo to the chair.”

~ ~ ~

“So,” Grian stood before the chair, pushing up his glasses. “What did you do after Scott left for the tree?”

Cleo stared into his soul, her eyes the look of death. “Went to the kitchen, got myself some more popcorn, sat on the couch and watched the chaos.”

Grian nodded. “Valid. No further questions.”

“WHAT?” Jimmy’s voice rang from the couch. Cleo only laughed. “But she could have easily left something out!”

“I’ll ask the questions here.” Grian jabbed a thumb to his chest. “Plus, she had to mom Monopoly for us.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well…”

~ ~ ~

Around the Monopoly board, once more, sat Grian, Scar, Bdubs, and Etho.

“Scar, stop harboring the money!” Grian complained—an untouched hot chocolate sitting beside him. “You’re supposed to give us two hundred dollars when we pass GO.”

“Uh, uh, uh,” Scar waved his finger. “You did not remind the bank, and your turn has passed. That’s not my fault.”

“YOU’RE SCAMMING US!” Bdubs attempted to swipe the money from Scar’s hand, but Scar moved it from his reach.

“You’re a horrible banker.” Grian crossed his arms.

Scar smiled. “Actually, it’s just how business works.”

Grian stared him in the eye. “Let me be the banker.”

Scar splayed his palms over his organized money set up. “No! I chose to be the banker first!”

“And I’m regretting it. Hand over the money!”

“How do I know you won’t do the same or worse!”

Cleo pushed herself up, abandoning her bowl of popcorn on the couch, and stepped between the two bickering children. She sat, squeezing herself between them and forcing them to scoot over. “That’s it. I’m the banker now.”

“YAY!” Bdubs threw his hands into the air.

Scar griped, “Ah Cleo… please don’t!” He sent a pleading expression to the man ahead of him. “Etho, tell her-”

Etho shook his head. “I’ve got no say in this.” Cleo nodded in approval.

Scar’s head drooped as he handed the money he kept from Bdubs to Cleo. “But Grian was the Bad Boy, not me!”

~ ~ ~

“Huh,” Jimmy said from the couch. “I don’t know how I missed that whole interaction.”

Grian’s eyes narrowed towards Jimmy. “Sus. But I’ll come back to you later.” He adjusted his hat and pointed his magnifying glass at one person. “Scott! Your next to the chair.” Scott exchanged places with Cleo. He plopped in the seat, arms crossed. “So, tell me your run through of the story, starting with your match of Uno.”

Scott locked eyes with Grian, reciting his story, “I played Uno with Cleo and Pearl. Left to help untangle a strand of lights for the tree, then stayed to sort ornaments with Ren. You should know, I was by the tree and your crazy Monopoly game the whole time.”

Scott purposefully left Jimmy’s name from the story in hopes Grian would forget about him, but Grian targeted him anyway. “And Jimmy was a part of that, right?

“Yes, bu-”

“Jimmy! Come to the chair!”

Scott released a sigh of frustration, and stood—arms still crossed. “What about you, Grian? How do we know you aren’t the one to blame?”

“He has a point.” Martyn chimed in. “This could all be a set up to blame someone else.”

Grian set his magnifying glass on the table of ornaments and plopped in the chair. “Fine.”

But Jimmy saw something different. When Grian sat in the chair, he sat in his ugly sweater from before his wardrobe change. No long coat, no hat, just his red sweater wrapped in a green tinsel garland. Jimmy blinked a few times. “How did yo-”

“So Grian!” Martyn stood, allowing Scott to take his place on the couch next to Jimmy. “What were you doing during the cookie incident?”

“Playing Monopoly, until I became a star.”

Martyn studied him when Impulse called from the couch, “He came to get hot chocolate.”

“Yea, he did,” Tango confirmed.

“So,” Martyn stroked his chin. “Leaving something out of the story, are we?”

Grian sighed. “I wasn’t gone that long. I chatted with BigB briefly, got hot chocolate, then went back to Monopoly.”

From the couch, Scar narrowed his eyes; his heart chipped once more. Grian’s words confirmed his suspicion. Grian had met with BigB in secret, again.

Martyn swung around to spot BigB sitting on the floor. “Can you affirm his alibi?”

BigB nodded. “We talked about which ornaments would look best on the tree.”

Scar sighed with relief. He remembered it was nearly Christmas. His mind was still stuck in the games that he forgot BigB was no longer a threat, he was a friend.

Martyn shrugged. “Seems clean to me.” He sat on the floor in front of Scott and Jimmy as Grian rose from the chair.

“Alright, back to business.” Grian adjusted the coat on his shoulders, leaving Jimmy to wonder if he was imagining all of this. Grian picked up his magnifying glass from the table and swung around, tipping the brim of his hat to face Jimmy. “Now back to Tim!” Beside Jimmy, Scott rolled his eyes—his distraction had failed. What did he expect, Grian never cut Jimmy any slack.

~ ~ ~

Jimmy shifted in the chair awkwardly, and Grian leaned towards him, magnifying glass over his eye. “What are you hiding Timmy?”

“This is just an uncomfortable chair,” Jimmy laughed nervously.

With the magnifying glass, Grian moved to the side of Jimmy’s face, less than an inch away, analyzing any change in his facial features. He noted a single bead of sweat dripping from the suspect’s temple.

“OKAY! OKAY! It was Scott!” Jimmy finally burst.

“JIMMY!” Scott shot to his feet, throwing him a look of betrayal. One Jimmy has seen before, so he knew this one was more playful than previous.

“Go on Tim,” Grian pushed, still looking at him through the glass. Jimmy had to pull his head back to avoid being touched by the thing.

“When Scott came over to help me untangle a strand of lights, he brought each of us a cookie, so we ate them.”

Scott said, “Yeah, but they were the only ones I took. The rest of the cookies were still there!”

Grian tapped the magnifying glass in the palm of his other hand. “So, there are more cookie thieves.” He scanned the couch, studying each face, eyes landing on a familiar anxious expression. “Mumbo.”

Mumbo nearly jolted. “Uh, yea?”

“To the chair!” Grian directed him with the point of his finger. “You know something.”

“Uh, I highly doubt that.”

“Mhm,” Grian pursed his lips, nodding. Mumbo sat neatly in the chair. “Now tell Mumbo, what were you doing during this crime?”

“Well, uh, after Gem knocked over our, uh, Jenga match, we played Clue an-”

“Ironic… who did it?”

“What does that hav-”

“Who did it, Mumbo?” Grian leaned closer, magnifying glass nearing Mumbo’s face.

“Um… Colonel Mustard.”

“And who was that?”

“I don’t really see how…” Mumbo trailed off as Grian came uncomfortably closer, removing the magnifying glass between them, narrowing his eyes in a fixed gaze. Mumbo’s eyes darted around the room until he cracked. “Skizz. It was Skizz.”

Grian whipped around. “Skizz! You’re next!”

~ ~ ~

“Now what’s your story?” Grian stood before the chair, crossing his arms with a skeptical glare.

“The same as Mumbo’s. I was playing Jenga, then Clue.”

Grian noticed the way Skizz’s eyes looked past him for a split second. “And your group involved Tango, Mumbo, and Impulse, correct?”

“Correct,” Skizz nodded.

“Then, am I safe to assume your whole group took a cookie?”

“What?” Skizz rubbed his arm, and avoided eye contact. “Why would you say that?”

Grian paced before Skizz. “According to Pearl, she and Gem left the dining table to join Cleo on the couch. And while I was busy shining for everyone at the top of the tree, Joel was the first to join us from the table while the rest of you straggled your way over.” Skizz glanced towards Tango who looked away, Mumbo who scratched the back of his head, and Impulse who just shrugged. “So…” Grian ceased his strides, turning to Skizz. He grabbed the arms of the chair with a glare. “I’ll ask one more time, did your group take the cookies, Skizz?”

Skizz whipped his head away from Grian’s expression. “YES! Yes we did! We, we saw the cookies on the table, and, and Impulse said, ‘Why not,’ so we each took one and ate them!” Grian straightened, brushing his hands with a “job-well-done” and a smile on his face. Skizz released a large breath, “Oh, that felt good.” And for a moment, Impulse swore he saw a halo appear above Skizz, but it must have been a trick of the single light cast above him.

Joel stood, hands on his hips, and switched his gaze between the group of known cookie thieves. “I can’t believe you all ate them!”

Tango raised his hands in defense. “Now hang on here. We didn’t eat them all either. There were two cookies left. Someone ate those too!”

Martyn raised his hand, rising from the floor, “That would be me. I ate one and took the last to Ren while Grian was busy being a star on the tree. I only saw two and assumed everyone had been eating them, so might as well finish the job, right?”

Cleo added, “Yeah, I ate one when I returned from the kitchen.”

“Me too,” Pearl admitted. “I took one on my way to the bathroom.”  

“And I took one after Pearl left,” Gem stood. “They just looked so good! And you can’t have hot chocolate without a cookie.”

Bdubs sprung up from the floor. “I AGREE. I TOOK ONE FOR ME AND ONE FOR ETHO WITH OUR HOT CHOCOLATES! GRIAN HELPED.”

“Yea, actually…” Grian faced everyone who was now standing. “I took two, one for me and BigB, then took a third to Scar.”

Joel confidently raised his voice. “I also ate one—two actually.”

Gem threw him a curious look. “Joel, you ate them too?”

“Of course!” He rubbed his stomach with both hands. “My wife makes delicious cookies.”

Silence encompassed the room as they all stared at one another…

Until Mumbo spoke. “So… we all ate them…”

“Yup.” Martyn nodded.

“What are we going to do!” Skizz erupted. “Lizzie told us not to eat them yet. We’re greedy, horrible people!”

Impulse gently pat him on the back, offering his support.

Tango turned to Skizz. “Whoa, chill out man. We’ll make up for it. No point in dwelling on the past.”

“Tango’s right,” Etho said. “We have to tell Lizzie when she gets back. It’s the right thing to do.”

An upbeat melody came from the hall. Lizzie’s hum. Everyone faced the open entryway awaiting her arrival. Their heads dropped, holding a guilty posture. Lizzie’s hum ceased not too far from them, and BigB was the first to speak. “Sorry, Lizzie, but… we ate your cooki-” When BigB’s voice cut off, the rest of the group looked up to find Lizzie with a tray of freshly baked cookies in her hands.

She burst into laughter. “I knew you’d all eat them. I was just curious how long it’d take! I made more.” She nodded towards the tray. “And there’s a third batch in the oven now!”

The lights of the dim atmosphere snapped on, encompassing the room with warmth and comfort yet again. Colorful strands of lights illuminated the hearth where a soft fire clapped, and gentle Christmas music played in the background. Was it always playing? Jimmy wasn’t sure, nor did he know who turned on the lights because he didn’t think anyone moved.

“Oh, thank goodness,” Gem exhaled a breath of relief. “I was really worried there for a second.”

Smiles stretched along everyone’s faces as they raced to the tray of cookies, thanking the baker as they each grabbed a warm cookie. When Jimmy arrived at the tray and snatched a cookie, he glanced towards Grian who was dressed in his ugly sweater once again. The mysterious man smiled at him, and Jimmy began, “How did yo-” But Grian put a finger over his lips, taking a cookie and departing from the crowd.

“There’s plenty to go around.” Lizzie beamed as she watched their faces brighten upon each bite of her cookies. “Sharing is what Christmas is all about! Now who is ready to start karaoke?”

~ ~ ~

When Scar finished his solo, he exited the designated stage area—which was in front of the couch—and returned to a spot beside the couch, beside Grian. The crowd clapped at his performance. Sweat dripped from Scar’s forehead. He wiped it with his sleeve and attempted to fan himself, but when that wasn’t enough, he removed his ugly sweater. Grian caught this movement from the corner of his eye and yelled from instinct, “SCAR PUT YOUR CLOTHES BACK ON!” He noticed the white T-shirt Scar had on underneath and smiled. They both burst into laughter, reminiscing old times.

Lizzie stood before the crowd—the tree still unlit behind her, but fully decorated—and picked up the microphone. “Alright, who’s next?”

“That’s us, G.” Joel and Jimmy rose from the couch, each placing on a pair of shades.

Grian nodded towards Scar, who smiled back, and joined his karaoke group. He, too, took out a pair of sunglasses and rested them on his head. The performance began as they attempted to sing “Jingle Bell Rock.” Each of them sang good at first, but they drastically got worse. Their voices fluctuated and cracked on purpose, attempting to reach notes they knew they couldn’t. At the end of the song, they crossed their arms with Jimmy and Joel leaning their backs against Grian who stood in the middle and said, “Bad Boys out,” before dropping the mic.

“Oh, that was great,” Cleo teased.

Martyn clapped. “It was horrendously good.”

Jimmy smiled. “We’re the only awesome band around.”

“OH YEA?” Bdubs shot to his feet. “WELL, I’VE GOT A BAND OF MY OWN!”

Joel said, “Uh huh, And what’s it called?”

“B.E.S.T.! IT STANDS FOR ME, ETHO,” he glanced around the room, laying eyes on two other people. “UH, SKIZZ, AND TANGO!” He got up, beckoning them to join him in the stage area. “COME ON GUYS.”

“Have at it.” The Bad Boys took off their shades, exiting the stage area. Grian whacked Jimmy on the back. When Jimmy looked at him, Grian gave him a smile and nod of approval as the three Bad Boys returned to the couch.

Etho, Skizz, and Tango stepped forward, discussing with Bdubs which song they should do when Bdubs raced off. He shortly returned with pointy elf ears over his own, and shoved a Santa hat on Etho. “SAY IT! SAY IT!”

Etho rolled his eyes. “Alright, just for you.” He cleared his throat, and emitted his deep voice, “Ho, Ho, Ho!”

“THAT WAS PERFECT!” Bdubs pointed towards Lizzie. “NOW CUE THE MUSIC!”

They all began the song “All I Want for Christmas Is You” by Mariah Carey with the crack of their voices, “Ahh~”

Mixed reactions waved through the crowd. Some “Boos,” some “Oh no’s,” and some closed their ears while others laughed and cheered them on.

When their song ended, Lizzie and Joel had everyone gather around the tree to finally light it for the first time. Everyone counted down, “3…2…1!”

Beautiful white lights illuminated across the pine, highlighting the fun ornaments that garnished it. Jimmy glanced at Scott, finding the multitudes of lights reflected in his eyes—sparkling like stars in a vast night sky—reminding him of some distant memory he couldn’t pinpoint.

People went back to games, karaoke, and cookie eating while Jimmy and Scott stayed by the beautiful tree. Behind them, Grian horribly sang “I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas,” while a group composed of Tango, Bdubs, Scar, and Impulse sounded like they were gambling over Lizzie’s cookies. His friends were wild, dramatic, and rambunctious, but it was what he loved about them. 

[simonsacryptid]

use this ask as an excuse to post more about your life series winners au 👉👈 (i like the aesthetic of all the winners sharing a vast albeit eerily empty castle) (i am v interested) (forward slash not forcing)

OMG YEH OFC

Here are my ideas for the windows! (I only drew out three of them so far because i did them during history class)

Grians window is of him standing in the vast dessert. The sun is blaring behind his head and his hair and shawl are blowing in the wind. He has his macaw wings, but their tattered from explosions and the such— only one eye is visible, tears flowing down his cheek and a purple tint to his usual eye color. Only one hand is stretched out, the wind blowing red sand from it. The rimming is gold with soft spirals and edges, symbolizing the softness he felt for Scar (and a very bad doodle of it for you)

Scott's window is a little more elegant. He's standing on a tree, like he was when he got his last kill, and he has a hand over his heart. His other hand is outstretched in a pinky promise to the other two G's, promising his loyalty and the full truth. The scene is at night, with stars creating a small halo around his head. He's also starting directly at whoever is recreating this scene with a soft smile. The rims are shaper, symbolizing the harsh winter that Last Life took place during and the brutality of the game itself. Theyre silver

Pearl's window is the first one to not be directly looking forward, instead looking somewhere out of the scene. She's giving a salute as wind comes rushing at her and there's a glow from a nearby explosion. Her hands and knees have frostbite on them, and her eyes are tired from countless nights alone. Her tower can be seen in the background, and there's the moon behind her head. Stars scatter the night sky, but are flickering in and out of visibility. Tilly is sitting near her feet. The rims of this one are ridgid and broken, made of slowly oxydizing copper, showing her broken and decaying heart.

Martyn's scene is underwater, with seaweed flowing around him and coral poking out of his head. He has a hand raised with a timer striking 0:00 in it, and his other hand covering his eyes. The water makes his hair flow and his ears visible, making his window the only one to have ears included and not eyes. Even thoigh he's in the water, theres still a red planet—Mars—behind his head, reflecting against the waves and creating a contrast to an otherwise very green and blue window. There are bubbles surrounding him. The rim mimics the coral on his head, made of diamonds. Innocent and beautiful, but harsh and cruel if forged in the right ways.

Scars window is another unique one. His head perfectly aligns so it's infront of Bdubs's Earth-Base, somehow repaired from the fires. He's standing in a feild of sunflowers at night, facing away. The black of his cloak shows, as well as his hat, both adorned with lilacs and poppies over black fabric. His face is entirely obscured by the hat except for his sad smile. The rim is amethyst, mimicing the Evo symbol. There are swirls along it that look vaguely like writing from afar.

Cleo's scene is in a village. Pluto is behind her head and she's got a VR headset that she's actively taking off. She looks exhausted from the final fight, but happy that it's over with. One of her eyes is still blocked by the headset, the other changing between closed in relief to open and looking at people passing by. It changes whether she's due for another visit to the castle or not

Joel's is the only one expressing real joy. He's holding an enderpearl in one hand and a sword in another, the enderpearl having a comet-like trail behind it. Around his neck is a key to the car thats silhouetted behind him. There are references to various wold cards around him, like curls in the frame resembling snails, lighting striking in the back for the trivia bot, and a clock around his waist to keep track of how fast they're moving. Overall he just looks cool and happy to be there, a stark difference from the other winners

[k-didathing]

Startober Day 6: Runaway

Etho had been on the run for a long time. At some point, it felt like running was all he had ever known. Running became less like an action to him and more like a lifestyle.

Always be ready to move onto the next place.

Don’t get too comfortable.

Don’t grow too attached.

That’s how they stab you in the back, like everyone always does.

But when Etho heard rumors about a sanctuary, a haven for outcasts and runaways, forgive him for being a little intrigued.

Once Etho landed on the dense, jungley planet that the sanctuary was rumored to be on, he started a long trek through the tall green forests, even though he had no idea where this sanctuary could be, or if it was even real.

After a while of hacking through vines with his machete, Etho was getting tired. His tail began to drag in the dirt behind him, and the rhythm of his heavy boots started to slow. He was starting to consider turning back when a net suddenly wrapped around him, pinning his hands to his back and knocking him to the ground.

Yep, this was definitely the place.

He heard a whoop of victory from the treetops and watched as a man scurried down to meet him. Now, Etho had seen plenty of glares before, but until now, he had never seen a full one. The man’s face was covered in greenish feathers that framed his large, dark eyes, and a fluffy, feathery tail trailed behind him.

“HALT!” The man yelled, pointing a small weapon at Etho and forcing him to his feet. “What’s your business in Sanctuary?”

Etho tilted his head skeptically. “‘Sanctuary’? Is that what you guys call it?”

“Yeah? So?”

“I dunno… I guess I was expecting something a little more… poetic? Secretive, maybe?”

“Well, that’s beside the- HEY! YOU STOP RIGHT THERE!” Etho was trying to shuffle past him, but the glare blocked him with his weapon. “That’s not answering my question: What are you doing in Sanctuary?”

“I’m just a runaway, same as any of you.” Etho slipped effortlessly out of the n net, revealing that he had dismantled it entirely.

“WH-HOW?!” The glare exclaimed, his feathers puffing up in disbelief.

“Oh, I’ve been out of this thing for a while now.”

“I - whatever. Follow me. And do not wander off.” 

The two of them wandered through the jungle, the glare messing with some sort of navigation device as they went.

“So, what’s your name?” Etho asked. He wasn’t sure why he was even bothering. He should have simply asked the glare where Sanctuary was, or even steal his navigation device if need be, and teleported on his merry way. But for some reason, he wouldn’t - or couldn’t. Perhaps he was simply intrigued by the glare for some reason.

Nope. Don’t get attached. Don’t become too vulnerable. And don’t jump to conclusions.

“I’m Bdubs. I’m kind of a big deal around here.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, I’m basically a god to the people of Sanctuary.”

“A god?”

“Yep! Here, I’ll show ya.” Bdubs closed his eyes and rubbed his hands together, and after a moment of grunting with effort, all of his feathers erupted with golden light, and even his eyes seemed to glow. Etho had to shield his eyes a bit just to look at him. But then Bdubs’ navigation device began to beep at him angrily, interrupting his bravado. He dug it out of his pocket and groaned as soon as he saw the screen.

“This thing is busted,” he sighed. “But nobody panic — I’m a master when it comes to redstone. I’ll fix this in no time!”

Etho raised his eyebrows doubtingly. He knew what redstone masters looked like, and Bdubs certainly wasn’t the type.

“Hey, don’t give me that look! I am!” Bdubs argued. But after several minutes of tinkering with the device, the only result was more frustrated groans.

“Need some help?” Etho offered, grinning slightly beneath his mask. 

“No, I got it.” But after a while, Bdubs eventually gave in and silently handed the device to Etho. The device appeared to be slightly broken — it was nothing Etho couldn’t fix, but all of his tools were back on the ship. He closed his eyes, envisioning where his tool bag sat on his workbench. He held out his hand and reached through the void, pulling the bag to where he was now. But as soon as he did this, he noticed that Bdubs was staring at him wide-eyed. “How did that happen? Wait a second — are you an Ender?”

“Etho’s tail curled around his feet self-consciously. He couldn’t exactly hide the fact that he was an Ender — though his unusual skin color often made people second-guess what race he was. But even so, he preferred not to bring it up. It led to other questions — ones that Etho definitely did not want to talk about.

“What other things can you do?” Bdubs asked, his large eyes sparkling.

Etho thought for a moment, and noticed a large, alien fruit hanging from a tree many feet from the ground. He slung his tool bag over his shoulder and took a leap straight through the void, onto one of the tree branches. After waving his arms around to regain his balance, he severed the fruit from the tree with his machete, then leaped back through the void to meet Bdubs. The glare split the fruit in two and let Etho have half of it while they walked. The fruit had a rich, earthy flavor whilst still being sweet and refreshing, and Etho quickly finished the fruit, tossing the rind onto the forest floor when he was done.

“So, what’s Sanctuary like? How safe is it, really?” As Etho said this, Bdubs began to walk in front of him. They were approaching a tree, one larger than any other tree Etho had seen in the jungle thus far. Its branches were adorned with little yellow flowers, and its trunk consisted of a swirling, tangled mass of knots.

“Why don’t you find out?” Bdubs answered. As he drew near to the tree, the knots unraveled themselves, revealing a passageway straight through the heart of the tree. As soon as he passed through, the tree closed up behind him.

Etho hesitated as he approached the tree. But as he stood there, something about the light filtering through the branches seemed to speak to him, and three words rang through his mind: Come and rest.

The knots unraveled before him, and he walked right through the tree. As he passed through it, it felt like a great burden had been lifted off of him, one he hadn't even realized he was carrying. The feeling of eyes judging him, watching his every move, that he could never get away from no matter how much he tried. He felt like he had been holding his breath for all these years, and was finally able to exhale.

When he got to the other side, all he could do was stop and stare. A massive city sprawled out for miles before him, covered in colorful houses as people of all origins bustled through the streets. 

He felt Bdubs’ firm hand on his shoulder, reminding him that he wasn’t alone. “Welcome to Sanctuary.”

And for the first time in a long time, Etho stopped running.

(AU by @skimmeh and @kairamuwu)

[birrdies]

wpuld u consider “I can keep you safe, they’re all afraid of me.” For shadowrot? or really any Cleo ship. because she’s so scary…

Win Secret Life.

There's a certain peace that should come with knowing you'll lose. Etho's not fool enough to believe it's feasible to win; for him, anyway. But that does nothing to dampen the panic, burning bright through him and setting every nerve-ending alight. It's a familiar panic that slips back into his bloodstream, almost like it'd never left. The fear that comes with dwindling numbers, rolling thunder claps, and each audible heartbeat pounding in Etho's ears.

A wild animal that knows it's about to die won't just take it lying down, even if it knows fighting is futile. It'll still gnash its teeth and swipe its claws at anything that moves in its periphery, anything that gets too close or backs it into a corner. And Etho can't help but shake like one, pacing in the same stretch of grass until it flattens to dirt, churning every possible move in his head. A chessboard only Etho's been dropped in halfway through the game and he doesn't know where half the pieces are.

The task book weighs a million pounds, strapped to his waist, where the words taunt him again and again.

Win Secret Life. Win Secret Life. Win Secret Life. Win Secret Life.

"Hey—"

Their base had been overrun, what little defenses they'd managed to build ripped to pieces. It's not safe there, really, but it's not safe anywhere. Least of all out here in the open, the night sky an oppressive, suffocating weight draped over him, rivaled only by the silent stone statue at his back, hands outstretched, non-existent eyes cold and empty. This place is crawling with red names, it'd only take a second for them to come raining down upon him like hellfire.

"Etho."

Grian's gone, too. Not gone gone, but somewhere Etho can't see him, which is almost just as bad. That panic is an unfamiliar one that sinks its teeth into him, like the cornered animal is trapped somewhere inside of him instead, desperately trying to chew its way out. It's always been just him, by the end. He's had allies, sure— beneficial things to have, like weapons or gunpowder or redstone— but if he'd end up alone that would've been fine.

Would have been.

Where the hell is Grian?

"Etho!"

He stumbles, ripping from his mindless pacing by a pair of wide, heavy hands gripping him by the shoulders. Pale, green fingers twist into the fur lining Etho's collar. He stares at those hands, taking longer than it should have to remember that they belong to someone. He lifts his head, eyes suddenly heavy and tired as he faces Cleo whilst simultaneously avoiding her gaze.

With nowhere to go, his legs stagnant, the anxiety festers. A burst of kinetic energy bubbling underneath his skin like a boiling pot with the lid left over it. He tries not to shake. He doesn't know if it works.

"Cleo," he says, swallowing a gasp his body tries to force out. "We've gotta— We need to find somewhere to set up, fortify. Maybe team up with Bdubs and the others— we're outnumbered. They're stacked, they've got Gem, Joel, Scott—"

"Etho, stop." Cleo jostles him by the shoulders, pulling him in close enough that he couldn't squirrel away even if he tried. Her eyes are red. Nauseatingly red, so deep Etho can't believe he hadn't noticed them before now. "Stop, you need to calm down."

"If we don't act now it will be too late," Etho says, reaching for Cleo's wrists, though he's not confident whether it's to push her off or steady himself. Either way once his fingers have found her pulse point, he can't bring himself to let them go.

Cleo's face, usually stone carved sharper than any sword's edge, softens. Her eyes dim, her mouth tilts up at the corner, and she loosens her grip on his collar. The only thing keeping her hands there at his neck are Etho's. Now he's shaking.

"It's already too late," she says, and its the kind of news that should be delivered with a somber, hung head and the unspoken apology too dense to ignore, let alone breathe through. But Cleo's not sorry. She's smiling at him and he's never seen her more relaxed.

It terrifies him.

"No," he says, shaking his head. "No, it's not. We're still here. We can— We can do something, we just gotta find Grian."

"And do what?" Cleo says, raising an eyebrow at him. Her heartbeat is steady. Calm. Everything a red name at the end of their rope shouldn't be. "Aren't you tired of dying scared and alone and desperate?"

I'm tired of dying, Etho can't bring himself to say. I'm tired of trying and it never being good enough.

Instead, all he can do is nod.

"Then let's go out our way." Cleo grins at him, and it's the first thing to loosen that iron-like grip his ribs have on his heart. "Y'know, causing mayhem, being nasty."

It's tempting. There's few others (if any) Etho'd rather spend his final hours with. Because these are the final ones, if they even have that long, and no amount of panicking or planning or trap-setting will undo the scales that've been tilted against them from the beginning. But the thing about scared animals is that they're stubborn. And no matter how much he wants to give in and let go, he'll never be able to rid himself of that instinct. Not to win, but to survive.

"But the others— They'll be on our tail the whole time." What if they don't have the time to do anything? To live their final moments how they want; just because you don't want to fight doesn't mean everyone else will spare you the same courtesy.

"I'm not scared of some bumbling red names," Cleo says, her words as vicious as they are confident as she finally lets him go, forcing him to drop his hands down by his sides. But she doesn't leave him. She stays right there, within arm's reach, as she tugs free a flint-and-steel from her pocket. "I can keep you safe. For now, anyway. They're all afraid of me."

The laugh that bubbles out of Etho is a quiet, private one that hurts coming up. But he wouldn't have it any other way. "You are pretty scary, Cleo," he says. "What do you wanna do?"

"I think burning Scar's house is a good start," she says, flipping the flint-and-steel in her hand before activating it, watching the small flame dance.

[pancho-pinto]

One Night of Many

a gift for @lixendynx as part of the secret santa organized by @offline-nobody! hope you like it ^-^)! (if you have an ao3, i can gift there too!)

Fandom: Hermitcraft Words: 2,192 Rating: General Warnings: No Warnings Characters: Bdubs, Cleo, Gem, Pearl, Scar and Mumbo Additional Tags: Bdubs POV, Post-Apocalypse, Comfort Summary: The group shares some hot chocolate.

[fic under cut]

It’s rare for Bdubs to be awake at this hour. When he looks up at the sky, the stars stare back, twinkling and full in the dark night sky. Far from them, where he sits, the wind swirls and dances around him, gliding along his arms and the back of his shoulders playfully. He connects the stars, drawing patterns only for his eyes. 

His bottom lip quivers as it falls open, a white cloud blooming in front of his face. It tickles the frozen tip of his nose, gently touching the apples of his cheeks. For the night, at least, the snow has stopped. 

Nearby trees shake and dance, the wind howling in between the branches of the trees nearby him. The remaining leaves rain like the earlier snow, drawing his eyes away from the stars. He blinks, finally looking away from his masterpiece above him. 

His gaze drops to the glass jar in his hands, the brown powder slides to the side when he tilts the jar. His thumb grazes the latch, lightly pushing the thin rod but never quite pushing it open. He spins the jar, mesmerized with the falling powder, until he finds the piece of tape alongside it. 

He traces the words with his eyes—hot chocolate.

“Hey, Bdubs,” Cleo calls, and Bdubs’ head snaps towards the voice. Cleo drags the tip of her right foot along the snow, stopping parallel to the other, and it's so jarringly loud that Bdubs can't look away from them. “Come to the fire, you're gonna freeze out here.”

Bdubs smiles when they tilt their head, sneaking her hands into their pockets. They breath out a cloud of white, her lips curved into a small smile. The light moonlight falls on her, highlighting and shadowing their very being. Cleo looks very human, very alive despite the slight hollowness on her cheeks, despite the bags dragging under her eyes and her dirty curls. Her clothes like her skin are dirty and worn, scratched up and marked with experience. 

Cleo looks very beautiful, and he feels lucky. 

“Yeah, yeah, fragile flower or whatever,” he laughs, raising one hand to wave them off. Still, he stands up, shaking the snow from his pants, stretching his sore legs. The cold settled in his joints, and moving them creates too much heat. 

“I didn't say that,” Cleo laughs too, and it sounds very nice. She waits where she stands, until he joins her side, their eyes falling to the jar in his hands. They hum as they walk back to camp, the weight of their weapons grounding them as much as the cold does. They don't have to say it, but they keep an ear out for unusual sounds. 

A couple meters away, camp awaits them in a clearing. At the same time, Scar and Gem return, hauling sticks and logs for the fire. They all exchange tired looks with warm smiles, the whole world already spoke between them. 

While Cleo makes their way to one of the tents, Bdubs goes directly to the fire as do the other two, taking his spot in the sitting log. They set the stick piles aside, and Scar leaves to the tent too, leaving Bdubs and Gem alone for a short while. She takes a couple sticks and places them on the fire, watching it dance a while. 

The flames dance and consume the sticks, but the light dances across her face, slightly red from the cold and exertion. Her eyes are very green right then, a shade of them he hasn't seen on Cleo in a while. She smiles and for moments, she is just a rosy cheek girl tending to the fire one random winter night under the stars.

And she very much is, regardless of how the world is burning outside. 

“I wish we had marshmallows,” Gem sighs, tossing her braid behind her. She tucks a strand back, sighing one more time as she pushes some sticks around. “Something sweet to snack on. Roast them over the fire. It's been forever since I had them.”

Bdubs nods, placing the jar beside his boot. 

“Maybe someone is making them somewhere,” he says, gesturing to the jar with his head, “they are making hot chocolate.”

“I hope so,” she hums, finally tossing her stirring stick into the pile. 

They sit, letting the crackles of the fire and sticks fill the silence between them, warmth around the fire and together. She smiles warmly, the edge of innocence still hanging onto her spirit. There are scars and there is dirt on her skin, there are plenty of those to go around. 

At some point, Pearl joins them around the fire, bringing a pot of water with her. 

After putting up the makeshift stove, the pot goes on top, and Pearl can sit down with them. 

Against the fire, she looks paler and ghostly, her skin clinging too tightly to her bones. Her eyes are dull and her whole person droops, but she still smiles. But she still sits with them around the fire under the stars. 

For now, small and uncertain as it may be, they can celebrate that her cough is gone. 

Gem touches her face, running her thumb against the apple of her cheek. Pearl smiles weakly, lightly pressing into her palm. “Oh, Pearl, let me grab a blanket for you,” she says as gets up, her hand lingering on her face just a second more. 

Just a moment more, that's all they really need. 

Gem dashes away, and Pearl sighs, turning her head to look at Bdubs. There is no sadness, no glee either, but Pearl is present, and that's enough. 

“He's getting better,” she says quietly, her voice still raspy. Her breathing is loud, though Bdubs can only focus on the face that she is breathing. “Weak, but getting better. We… just need to hope it doesn't get too cold, and some sun. We need sun.”

Bdubs chuckles, “Yeah, I miss the sun too.”

Gem comes with, her boots breaking the surface of the snow, her return loud so she can hug Pearl with a blanket. She presses her forehead to Pearl's head, not caring about the dirt and the sweat, melting with relief like she's reminding herself that Pearl is still around. 

He hopes they can have that overbearing clinginess for Mumbo too. 

They talk about nothing, Gem insistent on bringing the conversation back to marshmallows. Pearl laughs, hugging herself with the blanket, giving Bdubs amused looks that he returns in kind. He sighs big and makes a show of playing along, though his lips betray him as they split into smiles. 

Bdubs jumps when something touches his shoulder, screaming as he throws himself around, falling back onto the snow. Pearl and Gem burst into laughter as he pushes his beanie up, frowning as Scar looks down at him with genuine surprise. 

“Did- Did that- I scared you?” Scar asks, a guilt expression washing over him. 

“No!” Bdubs spits, pushing himself up to sit again. He plants his boots onto the ground, then offers his hand to help Scar sit down. 

Scar throws his weak leg first then sits down, carefully kicking his good leg over. Gem places her hand on his back so he doesn't lean too far back, and Bdubs makes sure to hold him steady. They sit close, Bdubs still grumbling as Scar throws an arm around his shoulders. 

“Man, what a cold night,” Scar shakes his head, even if there is a smile on his lips. He leans into Bdubs despite him trying to push away, closing his eyes to feel the warmth on his face. “Mother Nature really does not want to give us a break.”

“She's keeping it interesting,” Gem replies with a playful grin, her fiery spirit shining bright. 

Scar shakes his head, tsking, “Poor, poor Mumbo! This man cannot catch a break, can he? Have we no mercy? Oh, poor Mumbo.”

They laugh, jolly and giddy, and it feels like a normal night. Finally, after all the chaos and never-ending actions, they can finally catch their breath. The lid of the pot hops as steam escapes into the night, mixing as one with the smoke of their fire. 

“He will pull through,” Scar says as the marshmallow conversation dies again, something softer and hopeful in his tone. He presses into Bdubs’ shoulder, his shoulders dropping with a long sigh. “Mumbo, I mean. He… He has to, he will. I know he will. We've come so far.”

“He will,” Pearl chimes in. For a moment she sounds like she did before, all bright and hopeful, optimistic and loud, but she coughs once, and the illusion doesn't last as long. Gem squeezes her knee, Pearl still smiles. “I mean, I did, so that must mean he will too. He is a strong nugget!” 

“A very stubborn man,” Scar nods, comforted. 

“More than you give him credit for,” Cleo laughs, drawing everyone's attention. 

The small crowd erupts in cheers quickly, Mumbo leaning against Cleo as he walks towards them. He smiles weak, but present. Cleo rolls her eyes, leading him to the group gathered. They make space, so they can sit together, close for as long as they have, always clawing for more time. 

Mumbo, like Pearl, has a blanket around him, yet his complexion is much sicker than Pearl's. He coughs and he wheezes, shivering despite the layers. His chest rises and falls, his heart beats, and if he bleeds, he bleeds red. 

“Gem,” Cleo calls, gesturing to the boiling pot. 

Carefully, Gem takes the lid off so the water can cool. Their chatter continues, vibrant as it can be, their voices filling the silence of the night. Just them, pretending they are alone in the world for a moment they know won't last too long. 

There are things to do, places to be, trades to be made. They need to keep moving. Always. 

“Bdubs,” Gem waves her hand in his direction. With some mitts, she sets the pot to the side. 

Bdubs clutches his jar again. He gives it a shake, showing it around their little group. 

“I—cough—I can't believe—cough—we are really doing this,” Mumbo wheezes with a laugh. He smiles as best as he can, that lingering sass hanging over him. 

“You don't have to drink it!” Bdubs exclaims with a small huff, offended as he leans the jar away from him. The group laughs, and he pops the latch. 

There is a method, steps to follow. Right now, though, the circumstances don't allow for that, and they have to make do with what they have. 

Bdubs pours the jar into the pot, a little heartbroken when he sees the empty jar. He shakes his head, not letting nostalgia hit him too quickly, knowing he can't allow himself that sadness right then, so he places the jar on the snow again, hoping it can freeze those colder feelings away. He takes the spoon Cleo passes him, stirring it once. Slowly, occasionally, he stirs the mix. 

Cleo and Scar discuss ways to make the best chocolate, while Mumbo, Pearl and Gem make delirious talk about spongy marshmallows in the shapes of the clouds in the distance. 

And Bdubs, although part of the group, takes a step back, watching like he's not really sitting with them. He floats between them, admiring the lines on their faces and the color of their hair, their worn clothes and the tension on their shoulders. His friends, the most important people in his life. 

Lifetimes pass with their laughter, carried by their voices. And he, leisurely, walks beside them. 

“It's ready,” he says, and the world's lights fall on him. He looks at them fondly, with love, so much love he doesn't know what to do with it exactly. 

Cleo gets up to grab mugs. He rubs Mumbo's arm when he starts coughing, the rest rejoice at the sweet smell swirling around them. 

Pleasant, sweet. It's peace in a pot.

Bdubs pours hot chocolate into the mugs, passing it to Mumbo, who passes it to Cleo then Pearl. Then another to Mumbo for Cleo, finally one got him, then he moves to the other side, from Scar to Gem, one for Scar. Finally, he settles down with his own. 

The mugs are warm in his hands, warming him deeply. He brings it up and blows on it, smelling the sweetness that fills the air. He watches the steam wave into the air. Mesmerizing. 

There are conversations swirling, tender and soft. Making their little campsite so much fuller, livelier than it actually is, and above it all, it's so much warmer than anywhere else in the world. By each other, closely, the world keeps spinning. 

Bdubs breathes in the sweet steam and the charred smoke, the smell making a home in his tongue as he forgets winter is embracing them. 

When he takes the first sip, all the worry melts. 

And when he takes another sip, he is energized. 

He talks loud, laughing twice as much. Falling right back on the track with them. Exactly where he belongs, uncertainty and all.

[bloop-im-a-frog-now]

A Perfect Guide On How To Tame A Horse by Skizzleman

The first thing Skizz ever wanted to do on the Hermitcraft Server was taming a horse.

“Time to find a horse!” Skizz exclaimed to himself. 

That was supposed to be the easy part. The very long, but easy part. Except, it seemed all the wild horses were gone. 

“Where are the little fellas?” He asked himself. “I just wanna ride a horse!”

He had the perfect name in mind as well. He just needed a beauty, take it to his base and parade around the server with it. To show he was a true horse tamer. 

Maybe he should’ve gone to Bdubs, like Impulse suggested. 

No, he wanted to do this on his own, like the big boy he was. He scoured the lands, to find a horse, any horse, even if it was the slowest horse on the Server. Though, Zedaph still held that record, so, it wouldn’t be the slowest, but his point was still being made!

He’d do anything to get a horse right now. 

He passed a pasture, who looked exactly like the previous one he had passed. Skizz was starting to question his sanity, but most importantly, his sense of direction. Was he running around in circles the entire time?

That was when his muse appeared. A beautiful black stallion ate some green grass as it minded its own business, and Skizz immediately knew he had to tame this horse.

He gently approached it, with wheat in his hand as he called it over.

“Here horsie, come eat that good old sweet wheat.”

He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, and the stallion slowly walked towards him, sniffing the wheat in Skizz’s hand.

That was when he hoped the wheat wasn’t too old for the horse’s tastes. He’d hate to give expired wheat to such a handsome horse.

The black stallion started eating the wheat in Skizz’s hand, and the scarred man couldn’t help but smile. He petted the horse’s black mane. 

“Such a good horsie for good ol’ Skizzlie.”

The animal sniffled at the commentary, and continued to eat the wheat. When it was done, Skizz patted its neck and slowly came to its side to place a saddle on its back.

“There, there,” he petted the black, glistering coat. “Don’t move an inch,” he poked his tongue out of his mouth in concentration as he slowly placed the saddle on the horse’s back, “that’s it, just a bit more —”

The horse snorted and moved forward, making Skizz trip and fall face first on the ground. He grunted. 

“Oh, c’mon now! I was so close!”

He skipped to the stallion once again, and this time did not hesitate. He placed the saddle on its back, but before he could attach the straps, the horse neighed and trotted away from Skizz once again.

The scarred man groaned and hit his forehead.

“Stupid jerk! I just want a horse!”

He launched himself to the saddle, grabbing the two straps that needed to be buckled against the stallion’s stomach, and almost received a hoof in the face for his trouble.

“Hey! Jerk face! Watch it!”

The horse whined and trotted in the pasture as Skizz struggled to buckle the straps. He was a bit busy with not hitting his head against the hooves or the rocks or the flowers in the way.

“Just stop! Moving!”

He managed to buckle the main strap until the horse galloped. Skizz grunted at the change of speed, but continued fiddling with the straps. He was determined to keep the saddle safe and secure onto the horse, even if it killed him. 

Skizz buckled the smallest straps just before hitting his head on a rock he did not see. He let go and yelped in pain, putting his hands over his head as the pounding echoed in his mind. The stallion simply snorted and continued eating the green grass. 

That horse was almost the death of him. 

He groaned in pain. “Stupid horse and horse power.”

He raised his head from the ground and squinted at his target. The innocent jerk was still eating the green grass, but at least it had a saddle on its back. If Skizz just made a run for it and jumped on the saddle, he would start taming the horse.

And that’s exactly what he did.

He let out a warrior cry as he ran towards the stallion. It, on the other hand, neighed in terror, and just as it was about to gallop away from the running human, Skizz managed to jump on its back.

“Hiya!”

The horse neighed once more, and tried to get Skizz off of its back.

“Oh no, you stupid horse. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Skizz held onto its mane as it kicked its rear legs outwards, shook itself, and jumped across the pasture. He was struggling to hold onto the stallion, as he was shaken from side to side, jumping onto the horse’s back every time it made a sudden gesture. 

Eventually, the horse tired itself to the bone, and Skizz yelped in victory.

“Yeah baby! I did it!”

The horse on its side, dragging Skizz with it. The newest Hermit yelped in surprise, and didn’t hold on to the horse as his feet slipped from the stirrup. The stallion swiftly got up and left Skizz in the pasture, trotting away and beyond the mountains.

Skizz groaned.

“Stupid horse with his stupid jerk face and his stupid — stupidity!”

Then, something munched his hair as if it was wheat, and Skizz turned around hastily, sword in hand in case it was a hostile mob. 

But it was just another horse, with a dark matted mane, unperturbed by Skizz’s movements, and continued eating his hair. Skizz laughed.

“Hey there, other horsie,” Skizz laughed again as the horse’s tongue licked his forehead. “Hey! That tickles!”

The animal didn’t seem to care about Skizz’s protest, even when he stood on his feet, it continued eating his hair, following him around.

“Ack! Alright, alright, I get it!” Skizz shooed the horse away, only for it to stay by his side. He smiled. “Aw, you’re lonely. I don’t have a saddle for you, buddy, the other jerk took it away.”

The horse simply stared at Skizz, nudging its head against Skizz’s shoulder. Skizz chuckled.

“Alright! I get it! Jeez.”

He climbed on top of the horse, and it didn’t move. Not until Skizz clicked his tongue and nudged the heels of his feet against the horse. 

“Oh huh. A real Gluestick, aren’t you?”

The horse trotted towards Magic Mountain, where Skizz base was, and listened to every order Skizz gave it.

“You must’ve really had pity on me struggling with that other stupid, huh? Wait!” Skizz patted the horse’s mane with a wide grin. “Gluestick! That’s your name now!”

Gluestick neighed and continued its trot.

“Yeah, me too, Gluestick. Me too.”

[ahllohehn]

Ooc (keep not that I feel so bad for asking this rn)

Could we have some more ethubs?

Please

Bdubs blinked rapidly, biting the inside of his cheek as he tried to fight back a yawn. Sly let out a yip beside him and he waved a hand to shoo the little fox off, "M' fine, Sly," he slurred out before getting back to work on the field.

It's not always that the Hypnos side of his reacts, especially during the day. But it was in the middle of spring, he was weak to this season. The sun didn't feel too hot. The camp was peacefully empty. The slight breeze tickled his skin in a comforting way that made him oh so sleepy. Or maybe a god was aiming to communicate with him that's why sleep suddenly feels like a considerably nice activity right now.

He rubbed his eyes and pinched himself lightly to keep himself awake. Sly let out a few more yips before giving up on getting Bdubs' attention and running off to probably harvest whatever crops are harvestable.

The son of Demeter was able to force his eyes open for a while before he felt drowsy again. He was halfway through one of their few lines of raspberries when the urge to sleep hit him like a truck and he almost fell forward to join the greens in the soil, only to be caught by an arm around him.

Etho manhandled Bdubs familiarly into his arms, supporting the shorter man's entire weight on his one arm as he helped maneuver Bdubs' limbs to hold onto him like a koala.

Etho sighed and patted Bdubs on the back scoldingly, "If Sly hadn't gone off to get me, what would you have done?"

Bdubs huffed and weakly kicked his leg in protest, "Pr'bly stay soooo awake," he grumbled as he rubbed his face violently against Etho's shoulder in an attempt to snap himself awake through vigorous movements.

Not that the son of Hades allowed him to, bringing up a hand to Bdubs' nape to hold him in place, "Because you're definitely showing signs of being sooo awake," he copied sarcastically.

"Why are you trying so hard to fight it anyway?" Etho stood up with Bdubs in his arms, who had to grip at him tightly to stop himself from falling, "Tryna.. get Sly raspberr'es f'r a job well done f'rst," Bdubs whispered, moving his head to side to look at the fields longingly.

The taller demigod chuckled softly, "Harvest anymore and that damn fox will get too fat to work with you."

Bdubs whined but didn't protest as it was getting harder to stay awake. He instead shut his eyes and buried his face to the side of the taller's neck, "Tuck me in. Wh'ever's tryna reach me is prolly gettin' desp'rate," he muttered softly.

Etho ghosted a quick peck on the side of Bdubs' face, barely noticeable due to the mask he wore so it could be mistaken for a simple face nudge, "Rest well, my dreamer."

He whistled Sly over to grip the basket Bdubs wasn't able to fill before leading the way back to the cabins.

Hopefully Bdubs wouldn't mind the cold of the Hades cabin while he 'hibernates'.

[life-winners-liveblog]

Watching Double Life session 5

P5

Pearl: Baby Tilly!

Martyn: Stop screaming in my ear!

Pearl: Jeez Martyn, didn't know your ear was this sensitive.

Martyn: My ear is perfectly average.

Pearl: That was... strangely defensive.

Grian: Martyn can we have a quick chat?...again

3L!Scar: ...

~~~~~~

Scott: Those two are being weird.

Pearl: When are they not?

Scar: Ooooh!

Cleo: She got you there Scott.

Scott: Yeah, sure, why are they being extra weird today? Being extra and quirky is my thing. They are two of the three main adjectives used to describe me.

Scar: What's the third?

Scott: Gay.

Pearl: That one was pretty obvious Scar.

~~~~~

Cleo: You know don't you?

3L!Scar: Of course I know...so do you?

Cleo: I'm not nearly as blind as they think I am... I know much more then they are willing to share, That's for sure.

3L!Scar: ...

Cleo: Well then, let's go back to the others, It's rude to talk about people who are listening...or watching.

~~~~~~

Grian: We're back!

Scott: Welcome, how was you talk?

Martyn: Let's just move on.

~~~~~

Scar: Other me! No!

Martyn: Thart was...fast.

Scar: Nooo!

Scott: From green to red in half a session... That's impressive.

~~~~~

Grian: The ship is gone.

Scott: RIP.

Pearl: You will be missed...by two people...everyone else didn't really care.

Scar: The ship has sunk!

Grian: Well... kinda the opposite if sinking...it's on fire.

Scar: Yeah!

Scott: 🎶-Just like fire burning up the way🎵

Martyn: o7 I guess.

Cleo: I don't know where this arson is coming from but I love the way this session is going, more fire everyone.

~~~~~~

Martyn: Well Bdubs might be able to compete with Grian in challenge for worst tnt traps.

Grian: Shut up! I'm not that bad! ... Right?

Scott: ...well

Grian: Right?

Pearl: uhh...

~~~~~~

Pearl: And that's it...only one session left.

~~~~~

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