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thetomorrowshow · 30 days ago

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Whumptober 13 - Team as Family

title: if all your friends jumped off a cliff...

fandom: hermitcraft smp

cw: blood and injury

Impulse senses it a moment before it happens.

It’s in the way his stomach swoops, feeling like an elevator dropping from his throat to his knees. It’s in the way the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, his shoulders tensing.

He slips.

His heel lands funny on some loose gravel and he slips.

Then stumbles, trying to catch himself.

Then windmills.

Then falls.

“We should go hiking.”

Impulse suggested it, thinking of his new hiking boots he had yet to break in. He loved a good day of hiking, and it sounded like a perfect group bonding activity.

“Oh, yeah, I love hiking!” Mumbo said, perking up in his seat. “That would be great.”

Grian snorted. “Would you even show up?”

“I—of course I would! Just because—”

“You haven't come to a single team bonding activity yet. Isn't the line manager the one who's always supposed to be there?”

“I—look, that isn't—”

“Hiking sounds fun,” Pearl interrupted. “Impulse, did you have somewhere in mind?”

The fall is bad.

The side of the trail is a steep cut-off without any sort of fence in place, and when Impulse slips, he feels a breath-taking moment of terror as he knows what awaits him if he falls the wrong way.

Which he does. Of course he does.

It doesn’t happen in slow-motion, like the movies. If anything, it’s sped up, a brief moment of being airborne before he crashes into the ground and starts rolling faster than he knew he could.

He tumbles down the side of the mountain, and his world becomes a blur of green and brown and pain. His ears are assaulted by a barrage of crashes and thuds, over and over as tree branches and underbrush whip and crack under him—

He keeps trying to grab onto something, to get his feet under him, but he's falling too fast for it to happen.

Until he slams into a boulder.

“Grian, did you bring snacks?”

Grian sighed. “Right, I already divided up everyone's snack bags,” he said, putting on an affect of weariness. He set down his backpack, dug through it, before pulling out several ziplocs.

“Cookies for Scar, trail mix for Impulse, pringles for Mumbo, apples and caramel dip for Pearl. And I've got a ton of beef jerky and carrot sticks in my bag.”

Scar snatched his ziploc of cookies, already tearing it open. Impulse chuckled. They hadn't even stepped onto the hike yet.

“I was looking at it online,” Mumbo said, tracing his finger along the map at the entrance. “The blue trail is easiest, but the red one has the best view.”

“I've only hiked the blue trail,” Impulse said. “It was pretty easy. But you know Skizz, from the development department? He hiked the red one last week and he said it wasn't hard at all.”

“I do love the color red,” added Grian.

Impulse blinks open his eyes, the fuzziness in his vision barely dissipating with each blink. There's static in his ears, a slight hum behind it. His mouth tastes like metal. He licks his lips, swallows drily.

His head hurts. His head—his back—every part of him—

He was just falling, right? Why isn't he falling? What happened?

“Impulse! Impulse!”

The sound of his name being shouted distantly breaks through the static, and Impulse scrunches his eyes shut, then forces them open again. Everything's still kind of blurry and black-spotted around the edges, but he looks as far up as he can, until he can kind of see the figures of his friends far above him, up the steep mountainside.

Did he really fall such a long way?

“Impulse, can you hear us?”

That's Grian.

Weakly, his body trembling, Impulse raises his right hand in a wave. Even from this far, he hears their sighs of relief.

“How are you feeling?” Grian calls down.

Impulse winces. His head and neck are up against something hard and unforgiving, pain blooming out from the base of his skull.

That might explain the issues with his vision. Concussion.

Or possible spine damage, he realizes with sudden panic.

Impulse spits out blood (his bitten tongue bleeds sluggishly against his teeth). “Uh,” he croaks, as loudly as he can manage. “I hit my neck.”

If possible, the others become even more worried. “Okay, we'll call for help,” Mumbo says resolutely. He gets out his phone, takes a step away.

“Is that rock on your leg?” Pearl says, and for the first time, Impulse looks down at himself.

His fall had dislodged a boulder next to the one he hit neck-on, and his leg is partially under it. It's enough that he can feel the weight (which surely means something good for his neck that he can feel it), but it isn't pressing down so hard that it's super painful. It hurts, but he's fairly certain it's not broken.

Impulse decides not to move. Not at all. He knows you shouldn't move with a potential spine injury, and he's afraid that one shift could entirely crush his leg.

“Yeah. I'm not going anywhere.”

“I don't have service. I don't—Grian—”

Grian checks his phone, too, his scared expression morphing into one of panic. “Me neither. Okay—Mumbo—”

“I—oh, dearie me, I don't—”

“Mumbo,” Pearl interrupts, placing her hand on his arm. “Walk back down the trail until you get in range. Then call emergency services, okay? We'll keep Impulse awake.”

“Impulse, don’t go anywhere,” Grian says. Impulse makes a vague effort to flip him off.

Mumbo starts scrambling back the way they came. Grian sits down, scooting as close to the edge as he dares.

“Do you think you’re good until Mumbo gets back?”

Impulse takes stock of himself. Between the pinned leg and the pounding head, he’s got a ton of bruises and scrapes. His arm feels funny, his shirt is torn all over the place. There’s a twig digging into his back, but he doesn’t have the energy to try and get rid of it.

“He should hurry,” he says, avoiding the question. He really just hopes he doesn’t pass out. Everything hurts a lot, and the black hasn’t cleared from his vision, so it’s all he can do to hang on.

He trains his focus on Grian’s face. He has to stay awake. Mumbo will be back soon, and then the paramedics will show up after that.

What if they can’t get down to him? There’s got to be too many trees to call in a helicopter. How long would it take to try and climb up to him from the bottom of the mountain? Would they even be able to?

“Hey,” Scar says, taking a careful step off the path, about ten feet away from Impulse’s clear slide marks. “This part looks way more even! I bet one of us could go down and give Impulse some water, or something!”

“Scar, absolutely not—”

Grian isn’t even able to finish his sentence before Scar’s foot slips.

Impulse sees it almost in slow-motion—the way Scar’s eyes widen, the way his arms flail out to grab Grian, who reaches forward too-slow—

With a comical scream, Scar falls.

“We all know hiking safety, right?”

“Yep!” Mumbo responded. Nobody else said anything.

Impulse sighed. “Okay. Well, first off, never go off the path. Got it?”

Pearl nodded. Grian did as well, rolling his eyes. Scar didn’t do anything, crouched down to toss one of Impulse’s peanuts to a squirrel.

“Scar?”

“Aw, look at you! Isn’t he so cute? Look, Grian, he’s so cute!”

“Scar,” Impulse said again. “Did you hear me?”

“Yes, yes, now look at this squirrel! His tail is crooked, look!”

Scar’s fall, if anything, looks worse than Impulse’s had felt.

He seems to hit every part of his body with a resounding crack against the ground, and his scream cuts off near-instantly when his head hits a rock but he keeps going. He slips and rolls and barrels down past Impulse, where he finally hits a fallen tree and his body uses its last bit of momentum to roll over it.

The only part of him visible is his foot, propped up on the log, his boot half-off in a way that totally obscures whether or not his foot is bent at an impossible angle.

Impulse stares, his breath caught in his throat.

“Scar! Scar!”

Grian’s shouting does nothing.

The foot on the log doesn’t move.

“Impulse, is he okay?”

“I—I can’t see him,” Impulse manages. None of them can properly see Scar, he could be dead for all they knew, if it’s possible that Impulse broke his neck who’s to say that worse didn’t happen to Scar?

What if he needs resuscitation? Can they wait until the paramedics arrive? They’re already an hour into the hike, how long would that take?

“Scar, c’mon! Scar—be okay, please be okay—”

Impulse ignores Grian’s frantic words. Somebody needs to check on Scar, and he’s the only one already down here.

Scar isn’t close enough to reach. His foot is about ten feet to Impulse’s left, which might as well be ten miles. He scrambles briefly for something to throw, but there’s nothing at hand.

Impulse looks again at his leg. The boulder really isn’t resting too heavily on it. If he’s careful, he might be able to get out from under it. Then he could crawl to Scar, at the very least, check his pulse and start on CPR.

He shouldn’t move until he can get his neck scanned, but he can’t leave Scar like that.

His right leg isn’t too badly injured, so Impulse places his right foot on the boulder, takes a slow breath.

He’ll push with his right as he pulls his left leg out. Quick and easy. No problem at all.

“Impulse, don’t—”

He pushes.

He pulls.

“Have you ever had an emergency while hiking?” Mumbo asked, glancing around nervously. “Like, what if one of us passes out?”

“I resent that!”

“I—Scar, I wasn’t talking about you. Just—just generally, you know?”

Impulse chuckled. “Nope. I mean, once Tango tripped and scraped up his knees real bad. We ended up heading back early, carrying him on our shoulders.”

“I knew someone who went missing while hiking,” Pearl interjected. “They found her remains last year.”

“That won’t happen,” Impulse said firmly, as Mumbo’s eyes widened. “As long as we pay attention and stay on the trail, we’ll be fine.”

He doesn’t get out.

The boulder rocks back, and he has a moment of freedom—

But it comes crashing down before Impulse can move, utterly crushing his leg with an audible snapping noise.

Impulse gasps, his vision sparking red.

Then black.

He drifts for a moment in painful blackness, feeling utterly incapable of even breathing. The agony steals through every part of his body, through his lungs and stomach and brain, his head pulsing angrily in time.

He’s dying. He’s sure of it. He’s dying, it’s so terrible, he isn’t going to make it—

It isn’t Grian’s voice that rouses him this time. It’s Pearl’s, but she isn’t talking to him.

“—can’t just leave them! Scar could be—”

“There’s no way possible you can get down there, both of them tried—”

“I know how to go down steep hills, I learned this technique once!”

“Pearl, I can’t let you.”

“Mumbo hasn’t gotten back, it could be hours before someone’s here to help them. We don’t even know if Scar’s alive—the window for bringing him back is shrinking! I—I have to try.”

It takes more effort than Impulse has, but he opens his eyes.

Through a red haze and double the black dots, he sees Pearl, adjusting her backpack. She waves when she notices him looking.

“Heya, Impulse! On my way down!”

Impulse groans.

“Do you think someone could climb down the side?”

Impulse glanced off the path, shuddered. “Doubt it. See how steep the drop-off is?”

“Right, but it’s only a sheer drop for about ten feet,” Pearl replied. “After that, it becomes more of something climb-able.”

“I mean . . . maybe if they had poles,” Impulse said dubiously. “I wouldn’t try it. It’s really not worth the risk.”

Pearl’s method of coming down the hill involves sliding the first ten feet of the steep drop on her backside, then stopping herself before she gained serious momentum by grabbing the grass. After a moment of dusting herself off, she stands. What follows is a strange hopping-jog, her gait short and staccato, jumping down the hill like a hare. It’s kind of working, but it’s clear about halfway down that she’s losing control of it—Pearl tries to stop but it’s too late—

She stumbles, falls, somersaults—tries to get back on her feet, but pulls another somersault, tries again—

Impulse doesn’t notice until her body jerks to a stop, a small shriek tearing from her throat, but Pearl’s foot gets caught and won’t come free.

She’d clearly tried to stand, putting all her weight down into a rotting tree stump. Her right foot had sunk in to the ankle, and the abrupt stop of her descent hadn’t been enough to pull her free.

“Ow, okay, ow,” she gasps, pushing herself up onto scraped forearms.

“Pearl! What did I say—”

“I’m all right,” she calls over her shoulder. “I just—I did something to my ankle, sprained or broken or something. But I’m fine!”

“I—a broken leg is not fine!”

Impulse closes his eyes, swallows. His mouth still tastes like blood. His teeth hurt from gritting them so hard.

He feels a little floaty, actually. Less pained than before. Maybe that means he’s about to pass out.

“Pearl,” he manages, wrenching open his eyes. “Scar. Can you see him?”

Pearl pushes herself up farther, then more, making small sounds of pain as she manages to bring herself up to standing. “Um . . . yeah! Yeah, I can see Scar!”

Impulse waits.

Grian, still going on about injuries, falls silent.

“Scar, stop pretending you’re asleep and get up,” Grian said, nudging Scar with his foot. “Come on, we said five minutes and it’s already been eight. We need to get a move on if we want to finish this hike any time soon.”

Scar continued to fake-snore.

“Come on, Scar,” Impulse laughed.

“Scar, we all have your fake-snore memorized. We know you’re awake,” said Pearl.

Mumbo glanced at them. “What? Does Scar pretend to be asleep a lot?”

Pearl nodded. “He pretended to sleep through bowling last month.”

“And paintball the month before that.”

“And at the Taylor Swift concert before that.”

“I—sorry, you all went to Taylor Swift?” Mumbo demanded. Grian just shrugged.

“Yeah. The company paid for it, it was a team-building exercise.”

Mumbo sputtered incoherently. Scar fake-sleep-mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like the chorus of Shake It Off.

“He’s breathing,” Pearl confirms after several harrowing moments. Impulse lets out a sigh of relief.

Scar’s alive.

It isn’t pressing danger, not anymore. Well, Scar definitely needs emergency help, and so does Impulse, but everyone’s alive.

“Hey, Grian,” Pearl calls up the mountainside, easing herself back down to the ground. “Looking a little lonely up there, all by yourself.”

“I am not joining you,” groans Grian, burying his face in his hands. “I—no!”

“Come on,” Pearl wheedles. “It’s fun!”

“Absolutely not. You know what—here.”

There’s a bit of rustling from above. Impulse looks up as Grian pulls a bag of carrots from his backpack and tosses them down to them, aiming for Pearl.

It soars, down, down, past Pearl—

Scar’s foot jerks as it lands. Pearl bursts into laughter.

“Square in the back!”

“I hope Mumbo gets back soon,” Grian says. “I cannot be the responsible one right now.”

“Just come join us!”

“If all your friends jumped off a cliff!” Grian says, chucking a bag of beef jerky. That one misses as well, landing well out of anyone’s range. “If all your friends jumped off a cliff, and they said it’s fun and cool and called up to you from the deadly cliff, would you jump? Would you jump too!?”

“Don’t be such a party pooper!”

“I’m gonna pass out,” Impulse mumbles, swallowing. His vision is getting darker by the second.

“No, Impulse, hold on—”

“Impulse, can you reach your water bottle?”

He can’t. His backpack is under him, and possibly what created such an awkward angle for his neck to hit the rock, anyways.

Impulse blinks. Then again. Then again.

They’re speaking to him, but the buzz in his ears has gotten so loud as to drown them out entirely.

It drowns everything out.

The pain drowns him out, too.

“New announcement from corporate,” Mumbo says, sitting down at the table. “All team-bonding must be in a safe and controlled environment. Specifically, hiking, paintball, and ziplining have been banned.”

“Come on, that was next on the roster,” complains Pearl.

“And it has been suggested to me in particular that we maybe play getting-to-know-you games for our next team-bonding,” adds Mumbo. “The rest of the teams are kind of mad at us for the ban, honestly.”

“What? How did they know it was us?” Grian demands.

Impulse looks between them all—his own neck brace, shoulder brace, and broken leg; Scar’s double-casted arms and knee brace; Pearl’s crutches.

Yeah.

That makes sense.

“At least we had fun,” he tries.

Mumbo raises a disbelieving eyebrow. “You—Impulse, you have to relearn how to walk.”

Silence.

Pearl’s the one who starts laughing first. Grian cracks soon after, then Scar (with repeated, “Ow, ow, my ribs”), then Impulse, and finally, Mumbo joins in.

“Right,” Mumbo says once the laughter dwindles out, wiping a tear from his eye. “Does anyone know any getting-to-know-you games?”

“Truth or dare,” Scar suggests immediately.

“No. Instant veto. Absolutely not.”

#whumptober2024 #no.13 #team as family #hermitcraft smp #fic #blood and injury #hermitcraft #hermitcraft season 8 #boatem #impulsesv #hermitcraft fanfic #mas writes #doing this so speedy quick bc i have a rehearsal #man i love this one it's so silly #it wasn't until after i wrote it that i was like wait.... boatem hole #i just unrelated thought it would be good whump to fall down a mountain #lmk what you think #love you guys

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writingdevil · 28 days ago

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Abyss [Hermittober24 Day Fifteen]

(Prompt list created by @collierose1 )

Warning-Death (suicide),suicidal thoughts

Once,there was a town,where everything was good, and everyone was happy.

Until it all went downhill.

People used to laugh,and go out with their friends, and make the town feel alive.

Turns out,that wasn't what made the town come alive at all.

Nobody in the town ventured out into the woods-why would they?Everything they needed was right here.But there was something in the forest that wanted the townspople.Something dark and endless,and full of whispers that would make your insanity break in a single second.

Not everybody heard the whispers.Not everybody deserved to.

But some did.

The first to go was a man named Impulse,a jolly and fun person that loved to help around town with whatever mechanical problems were going on. Everyone knew to go to Impulse-he'd never let anyone down.He was just always caring about other people.

But nobody ever stopped to think about how Impulse felt.

The man never wanted anyone to be upset with him,so he never complained or expressed any grievances-but he wanted to.

He so badly wanted to.

Impulse would be wrecked every single day,his whole body aching from all the jobs and work that the town just unloaded onto him.Don't get him wrong,he loves helping people and figuring out redstone for them,but eventually,it just got to a point where people wouldn't even say hello to him anymore.He would try to have a conversation with them,and they would just dump their issues onto him,and expect it fixed by the end of the day.

It was suffocating.It was lonely.

So when he heard these lovely whispers in the middle of the night,promising freedom and comfort,well-Impulse was ready to try anything at that point.

The whispers guided him out of town,and his feet led him into the forest.Every step felt like it was being weighted down,as if all the expectations of the townspeople were holding him back.But the whispers were stronger,and the farther away he got,the easier it became to move.

It was only when the whispers suddenly stopped, that Impulse was able to look down.

It was a hole.

It was a giant hole in the middle of the forest, nothing but the peace of the abyss within it.

Impulse couldn't see how far down it went,but it didn't matter.He knew he wanted to go down it.He knew that he wanted to escape all this stress and pressure,with the knowledge that it had been his choice,and he chose to do something for himself.

So he smiled,and fell down the hole.

The second to fall was a man who the entire town hated,and who could take no more of his pranks or meddlesome behavior.

Grian was his name,and he was known as both a very clever and talented man,but also one who used those gifts for the entirely wrong reasons.

He would go out at night and decorate somebody's house with silly signs or banners,or place someone's car in an obscure area,or even just get his pet parrot to startle people.

Grian wasn't a malicious man.He just loved to make people laugh,and find new ways to have fun.He hated seeing others upset,and he could never sit idly by when he knew that he could do something to brighten someone's day.He never dared to pull a prank that he couldn't clean up,and he was always offering his help with the aftermath of the prank.

The rest of the town didn't seem to share his sense of humor.

Grian tried not to let it get to him.He even tried not to pull pranks for a little while,and instead help out around town whenever he could,but it seemed his fate had been sealed.Nobody would talk to him. Nobody would even smile at him.For all his efforts to make peoples days a little better,he had only made his own life worse.

One day,it all became too much to bare,and he stomped out into the forest in a rage,wishing for a pair of wings to take him away from this bleak place,to take him somewhere more fun.

But then he heard laughter,and it was the most beautiful thing he ever heard.

He immediately ran towards the sound,desperate to hear something light,something warm, something to prove that all his efforts weren't a waste.

He found the hole,and that was when he realised that the laughter had been coming from him,and it had twisted into a mad cackle that echoed throughout the forest.

He fell to his knees,gripping the edge of the hole tight,laughing into the abyss,until he tilted forward and let the darkness hear his joy.

Another man in town that not everybody cared for, was an eccentric redstoner that was known to cause quite the mess with his inventions.

His name was Mumbo Jumbo,and he had been pushed to his breaking point when he came to the hole.

You see,Mumbo loved working with redstone.He would spend his days tinkering in his workstation, scribbling down all sorts of equations and blueprints for his inventions,staying cooped up for days on end sometimes.

Mumbo didn't understand many things,or was just oblivious to them.Human beings were something that Mumbo had never managed to wrap his head around.

He tried to be polite and friendly,but it constantly felt like a game he didn't know the rules to.There were times where he didn't know what to say,so he ended up saying something outlandish just to break through the awkwardness,but it only made the situation worse.Or there were times were somebody said something,and Mumbo was just supposed to telepathically understand what they meant,and when he didn't get it the first time around,he was the one who got the weird stares.

People were complicated.Redstone wasn't.

Well,redstone was complicated,but at least with that,Mumbo could work out the solution.He was satisfied for awhile,but then he decided to use redstone to connect with humans.

So he built this button game-a simple,harmless invention,where the prize was just a coloured belt, in order to get people interacting with him and to try and see how people responded to the game.

But-

They broke it.

They broke it the very next day.

Mumbo stared at the smashed heap that used to be his creation,feeling a numbness overcome him as townspeople shouted and berated him, demanding to know how Mumbo could build such a weird and useless thing in the middle of their nice town.

Weird and useless.

Mumbo was weird and useless.He could never win.

When he walked into the forest that night,he had been prepared for a wolf or a hit to his skull to be the thing that took him out,but the hole seemed like a much nicer way to end things.

He stared down at it for a long time,tears having long since dried on his face,redstone dust smeared across his cheek.He wanted to welcome the inky depths,to feel like this was what he deserved-for being the way he was,apparently.

But he didn't want that.He wanted to believe that he could've created something that people could look at and understand him,and the heart and soul that was within him.He just wanted to not feel so broken.

But when he heard a light giggling from the hole,his heart stopped,as he felt invisible hands take his, rubbing a thumb over his knuckles in such a soothing way that it made him almost cry tears of joy this time.

Maybe there were people willing to know him,and maybe they were just waiting at the bottom of the unknown.That was the last thing Mumbo thought before he pushed himself off the edge.

The fourth to fall,was a man who had simply lost his cat.

Scar Goodtimes,a man who made a living off of charming and swindling others for profit and fun, had ventured into the forest of his own volition,to find his precious cat,Jellie.

Traversing through the forest in a wheelchair was no easy task,but nobody could spare any time to help him.Scar understood,but he wouldn't allow his Jellie to be lost while in these woods,so he went out without a moment's hesitation.

He hadn't realised that he had spent hours in the forest until the stars twinkled above him,and that was when fear truly started to take ahold of him. Along with many unwelcome thoughts.

Scar tried to be cheerful.Scar tried to be understanding.But sometimes,Scar thought that people didn't care about him.

'Why wouldn't they help you?'

'Why aren't people searching for you?'

'Would they even notice if you died?'

No.The answer was no.Scar couldn't scam his way to genuine care,and he's not entirely sure if he deserves it.

He came to terms with the fact that his death wouldn't even be something that others would be aware of,when he found Jellie-and the hole.

Jellie had his back to him,and was staring intensely at the abyss below her.Scar could also feel a pull towards the hole,a sick thought of wanting to see how gruesome,how loud he could make his final moments.

But he had a cat to think about,so he did his best to ignore the pull,and attempted to persuade Jellie to follow him back home.

Unfortunately,as was his luck,Scar somehow managed to perch a little too close to the edge,and one wrong twist was all it took for him to slowly fall back into the hole.

Weirdly enough though,he wasn't afraid for himself. He's spent his whole life taking risks,the proof of that littered across his body-death and pain was a concept that he welcomed everyday.He wasn't even that afraid of being forgotten,as that was clearly just what happened.The townspeople didn't care about him,and what a damn shame that was for them.

No,the one thing that scared him was the thought of Jellie being left alone,with no one to take care of her,to give her all the love and affection that she deserved.

But as Scar fell backwards,fingers inches away from touching Jellie's soft fur,he suddenly heard a surprised gasp in his ears that definitely wasn't him,and then Jellie simply floated up in the air and into his arms.

He fell into the hole with a smile and joy in his heart.

The last person to fall was Pearl,who was painfully alone.

She knew what was in the forest.She knew what was waiting for her.

Pearl couldn't stand being alone,stuck in this town that didn't give a shit,about the people that have been missing for months now.It was insane to watch people smile and talk,as if they weren't the ones who pushed those four people away.

The handyman,that Pearl always liked to catch up with.

The inventor,who's contraptions that Pearl would always gush over.

The neighbour,who never failed to make Pearl laugh.

Her brother-They broke her fucking brother.

When he went away,it felt like all the light in her life had been taken with him,and she was just left to navigate the darkness without him.

She cried.She mourned.She screamed at the other people to remember who had been lost,but nothing seemed to take the pain away.

But she knew one thing that would.

"Grian,"she whispered,tears falling into the abyss below her "are you there,Grian?"

She knew he was in there.She knew that this hole had eaten him up,and she wanted to join him.

"I'm coming,Grian,"she promised,taking a few steps back,along with a couple deep breaths.She wasn't going to be alone anymore.She was going to go to a better place than that rotten town that pushed people to the brink of suicide.

She stared at the hole for a few seconds,before she heard voices in her head.First it was her brother, then Impulse and Scar and Mumbo,until she was laughing in relief along with them,and then they all said at the same time,"We're waiting for you,Pearl."

So Pearl jumped.

#hermitcraft #my writing #stories #hermittober24 #writing #hermittober #grian #mumbo jumbo #boatem #pearlescentmoon #impulsesv #goodtimeswithscar #YES!This is the prompt I've been waiting for!#I don't know if it came across but it's implied that the previous person who fell was the one guiding the next person to the hole

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