#Grian is enchanting table colored

[nexahexagon]

Art I made today for Bsky cuz I hate twitter!!!

I my normal Grian wings r the purple ones, but I like the idea of the red/yellow/green wings for the life series (prolly gonna change the colors around later but oh well!)

[single-malt-scotch]

i like thinking about the game mechanics through the Life series and how theyve changed and what bugs occur and it also seems there is a lot that ppl dont realize happened either! especially the bugs. so i want to list all current (up to writing, WL episode 4, will update later) seasons' mechanics/gimmicks and any bugs that follow.

it will be under the cut because itll be long of course. if i missed something let me know! i think i have some that arent on the wikia either so. remember this is ONLY about the games' rules/mechanics and any technical issues that occurred in relation to them.

Overall rules that have not changed so far:

no helmets

each session is 3 hours long (unless halted for other reasons), recorded once a week (currently tuesdays) with episodes released on saturday of that same week (unless delayed for other reasons)

Third Life

Mechanics/rules:

players have 3 lives-- green name at 3 lives, yellow name at 2 lives, and red name at 1 life

green and yellow names are not allowed to kill others, red lives can

Strength potions are also banned

Bugs/issues:

none that we're aware of

Last Life

Mechanics/rules:

players get a random number of lives at the start. from as low as 2 to as high as 7

4+ lives is dark green names, 3 is light green, 2 is yellow, 1 is red. Red are hostile only.

players can give each other one of their lives using a command. /givelife [player name] is to send a life, /lives tells the player how many lives they have

a "boogeyman" is randomized during a session and that player must kill someone to "cure" themself, or else they will drop to 1 life the next session

there can be more than one boogeyman at the same time

red names cannot be boogeymen

(after session 3) boogeyman will gain a temporary buff of resistance and regeneration after performing a kill

only one enchanting table, provided at spawn

initially, no PVP enchants higher than level 1. this was changed in session 2, allowing anything from the enchantment table.

different TNT recipe, using 1 gunpowder and 4 paper instead of 5 gunpowder. original recipe is still available though

Name tags can be crafted with paper and string

Moss blocks can be crafted with bone meal and seeds

Spore blossoms can be crafted with moss blocks and lilacs

Saddles can be crafted with three leather

Enchanting tables and bookshelves cannot be crafted

Bugs/issues:

in order for the boogeyman's cure to be applied automatically by the game, they needed to directly kill a player (chat message says "player killed player"). however this was quickly not practical due to death by traps or in general the game not seeing a death as involved with another player. so boogeymen would have to announce their kills because the command for curing needed to be sent by someone manually (grian).

Double Life

Mechanics/rules:

players have 3 lives-- green name at 3 lives, yellow name at 2 lives, and red name at 1 life

green and yellow names are not allowed to kill others, red lives can

players have one other player they are "bound" to. they share health- meaning that when one gets hurt, the other will too. this includes death.

there is one enchantment table, located in the ancient city.

after session 3, talking can trigger the sculk censors

potions and golden apples were banned, but potion effects from suspicious stew were allowed

Bugs/issues:

golden apples were banned as they would break the shared health mechanic

Limited Life

Mechanics/rules:

players do not have a number of lives, rather their life is a clock with 24 hours on it. the player is green if they have 16+ Hours, Yellow if 8-16, and Red if less than 8 Hours.

yellow players are allowed to kill green names. red players are allowed to kill anyone.

they lose 1 hour if they die and can gain 30 minutes for killing another player

running out of time eliminates you from the game

a "boogeyman" is chosen randomly every session. they must kill another player or will drop to the next color below their current one in the next session.

a boogeyman kill will give the killer 1 hour of time, and take 2 hours of time off the victim.

there can only be one boogeyman at a time, unlike Last life

red names can be boogeymen, unlike Last life

enchantment tables and bookshelves can be crafted again

enchants can not be used on weapons or armor

slimeballs can be crafted from magma cream

keep inventory is on

golden apples and potions are allowed again

Bugs/issues:

the issue with 'indirect' kills as the boogeyman persists-- players would need a command manually triggered in order to "cure" them if their kill was not directly against the victim because the game wouldnt recognize it

in the same way, this happened with gaining time from kills as well. with how frequent killing became, grian eventually gave the command to every player so that they could receive time for their kills easily.

the indirect killing and need for confirming kills and trusting the claims led to mistakes with player times. some was corrected after the sessions or breaks but some remained unfixed

the way players were "eliminated" on their time running out was not a "death" in game and this resulted in their final "death" not appearing in chat. later, a sound of thunder was added and eventually text on screen saying someone ran out of time. however, even this text appeared bugged a few times (with the wrong name, or getting cut off).

Secret Life

Mechanics/rules:

players have 3 lives as per the rules of Third Life

only red lives can intentionally kill other players

players have 30 hearts and cannot regenerate health by typical means

players can gift one extra heart to another, which can go above their 30 heart count

if heart count is above 30, hearts gained via task reward will not stack

player receive a task at the start of the session, which they cannot reveal to anyone. they must complete it before the end of the session and turn it in in order to receive rewards from the 'secret keeper'

players will receive up to 10 hearts when their task is completed, and will receive items if hearts reach its limit

players can decide to take a harder task, which will give up to 20 hearts. if they fail the hard secret, they lose 10 hearts.

the player loses if they tell their task, unless the task says they can share their secret.

only yellow names can guess other green name's secrets once. if they guess correctly, that player fails automatically, unless the task says otherwise.

red lives can only kill others if their task provokes them/directs them to do so. after completing their task they also receive another immediately after and gain 5 hearts (capped at 30). tasks not completed that session carry into the next session. failing a task takes 2.5 hearts away. if aa player is killed for a red task they gain 10 hearts, possible to stack over 30.

there is no boogeyman

hostile mobs have a chance of dropping spawn eggs. these eggs can be used to make spawners

passive mob eggs can drop as a task reward

wither skeleton skulls have a higher drop rate

TNT reverted to its vanilla recipe

high level enchants are allowed on all items

rules can be broken if the task allows it

Bugs/issues:

much like Last Life and Limited Life, any kills that are indirect and give a reward must be triggered manually if the game does not detect it as direct

coming back from the end restored a player's hearts to 30

some items were not stacking

the crafting book did not work

some gift hearts did not go through when sent

"success" button did not work at times

red tasks were giving hearts above 30 when they shouldnt have. this was fixed

killing players gave 20 hearts instead of 10. this was fixed

players would some times receive the wrong amount of item rewards

dying while hitting the succeed button breaks the game- they gain no hearts, items, and become stuck

Real Life

Mechanics/rules:

players have 3 lives-- green name at 3 lives, yellow name at 2 lives, and red name at 1 life

green and yellow names are not allowed to kill others, red lives can

the game was played in VR

Bugs/issues:

none that we're aware of

Wild Life

Mechanics/rules:

players have 6 lives-- 4+ is dark green, 3 is light green, 2 is yellow, and 1 is red

yellow names can kill dark green, red can kill anyone

red or yellow killing a dark green name gives the player one more life. a red killing a light green will give them one more life.

every session a "wild card" is activated. it is a randomized 'gimmick' that will effect the gameplay. gimmicks for the season include: 1. shifting causes the player to shrink. jumping causes the player to grow. 2. all normal food cannot be eaten and all other items are edible. all items have different status effects, some negative. this was randomized three times for the session. 3. all players have a snail of their own that will follow them constantly and if they touch it they instantly die. the snail can do anything to get to the player-- flying, swimming, teleporting, and breaking blocks. they cannot be killed. 4. time would slow down and gradually speed up through the session. (rest is TBD)

hostile mobs and passive mobs can drop eggs

only level 1 enchants and other unleveled enchants are allowed

alternate TNT recipes returns

Bugs/issues:

skizz's name did not change color in session 2. this was fixed

in session 1, players could not shift on a ledge to stay in place, as they would fall. this is likely due to the player's state constantly changing because of the fact shifting was also changing their size

in session 3, the session was ended after 90 minutes due to the amount of deaths in such a short period. as far as we know this is the first time a session has been fully cut short (other bugs are TBD)

[0asterous0]

Prologue, Part Three.

"Open the door and let the person in, helping them to hide away from the rain." - Previous chapter.

Honestly, Grian wanted to ignore the person and continue cleaning, because after that morning he needed time for himself. Still, hearing the pouring rain outside and seeing the person standing there without an umbrella, he kind of felt guilty. He knew that he would probably regret it, but he still turned around and walked up to the door. Who knows, maybe the person outside is one of the regulars, and by ignoring them, he will ruin the reputation of this place. Seeing as it got very popular in Boatem recently, that would be quite bad for business.  

The second the door was open, the person behind it happily slipped in, finally in safety from the rain. By a single glance, Grian could tell that this person was not a regular. He didn’t think he'd ever seen them around, because he would surely remember someone so colorful like this. The stranger was wearing a very baggy sweater (which of course by this point was soaked in water) which contained probably every color of the rainbow. One sleeve was in red and orange, the second in purple and pink, while the front of the jumper had bits and pieces of red, green, and yellow (why??) with a swirl symbol made of squared-off lines instead of a circle. You would think this was enough, but no! His brown curly hair was full of colorful hair clips, some in the shapes of hearts, some in stars. He also had an interesting amount of watches on his hands, 5 on each. Grian could hear every tick– how this person was not annoyed by them he couldn’t understand. Somehow, the other’s green baggy pants were the only normal thing in his outfit; and even then, it had a ridiculous amount of colorful patches all scattered on it. Grian could see him wearing two golden rings, one on each hand and an additional two attached to a string necklace. This man sure loved his jewelry.

“Ah! I’m so sorry for bursting in so early! Thank you so much!” just the ah already made Grian regret his choice of letting this person in. He sounded so cheerful and energetic, even more than Ren, and oh void. His voice was high-pitched, and Grian could hear a giggle in every word. Looking up and noticing the grin on the customer’s face, he was about to feel very annoyed when he suddenly stopped on the man’s eyes. He finally noticed probably the most peculiar thing about this person; his eyes were fully white.

“It’s.. not a problem, but we are still closed so I hope you don’t mind if I-”

“No, no, it’s okay!! I’m gonna just sit here and wait! Don’t worry about me.” As the stranger said it, he immediately moved towards the closest table, sitting down and playing with his hair to get out as much water as possible. How he did that so quickly without asking for directions, or a stick to guide him, Grian didn’t understand. Maybe he wasn’t blind after all, maybe it was his mutation because something was telling Grian that the guy was enchanted. If he learned anything in his life, it’s that enchantments manifested very differently, so something like this wouldn’t be a surprise.

After all, Grian was an avian living under the same roof as a dog mutant, who was he to judge the enchantment of someone else?  

“Are you gonna continue or are you gonna just stare at me like that?” The stranger asked with another giggle, his eyes immediately locking onto Grian’s.

“Uh- Yeah, sorry!” Grian said, startled, and turned back towards the tables to take down the chairs that were left. Yeah, the stranger could see him, there’s no way he couldn’t. Looking up, the clock showed 15 minutes before opening, which meant he didn’t have much time to stay there and think about how unnerving this whole thing was. 

It was very strange, even for Grian. The guy didn’t do anything wrong, and yet Grian could feel those eyes on his back, and that look… It felt like he was looking not at Grian, but through him. Needless to say, Grian wasn’t very good with stuff like that. Out of everything he had, he valued privacy the most. He never had that back in his childhood, growing up between the white walls; but now out in the real world, he’s happy to have some secrecy, to have something of his own. Feeling so… naked in front of someone felt terrifying as if the stranger just threw all his secrets and tragic childhood backstory back at him. Ugh.

“You live in Boatem, right?” The customer suddenly asked, startling Grain out of his thoughts. But he apparently already knew (or didn’t really want) the answer, because before Grian even said something, he asked another question. “I’m here for the first time! Can you suggest a place to visit, maybe?”

“Oh, it’s your first time in Boatem?” Grian asked, tilting his head and swiping a piece of cloth on the table, getting rid of all the dust that formed overnight. 

“Not just that, actually!” they said, overly enthusiastic, “It’s my first time in Hermittopia!”

“What?” Now that confused Grain even more. How was that even possible? “You’ve… never been to the Shopping district?”

“Nope,” the Stranger answered with a popping sound.

“Hermitland?”

“Nuh-uh.”

Maybe it’s not as bad as Grian thought; these places are very important for Hermittopia, but they aren’t for the other citie- No, who is he lying to? He can understand not going to Hermitland, even though it’s the biggest amusement park ever, but the Shopping district? Yes, other cities have their markets too– especially Empires, but the Shopping district is basically the heart of the Esempi; a place where you can find anything, the main trading center. And yes, anything means anything, Grian knows for a fact that there’s even a black market somewhere in that area. The thought sometimes scares him.

Grian, ever so curious, starts, “Can I ask where… well-”

“Kinoko, Dreamlands,” the stranger interrupts him nonchalantly. 

“Oh, Dreamlands! That’s… far from Boatem, you’ve come a long way, are you here for something specific? If you’re a tourist, yeah, I can definitely suggest some places, I think.” He rounds around the counter and runs the cloth on the surface, before moving to the sink behind and quickly washing it, all dust and dirt down the drain. 

He has never been to Dreamlands before. Well, he hasn’t been outside Hermittopia whatsoever, so even Empires, their on-land neighbor city, was a mystery to him. He has seen both of them, though. He remembers growing up on the outskirts of the Perimeter, close to the Coral Islands, which overlooked the sea below them and stretched far away. He couldn’t see much from that distance, but he does remember the land on the other side of the water– L’manberg, if he’s not mistaken. He remembers the beautiful fireworks on New Years and the glowing lanterns they sent up to the sky every summer, followed by the loudest festivals he had ever seen; and a few years ago, when first searching for a job in Boatem, he was close to the west border a few times to see a small village – Tumble, which is located on the southwest corner of the map. It looked nothing like Boatem. While Boatem was overflowing with giant buildings, from the living complexes to the cooperative constructions, Tumble was a small village: little houses with no more than two stores. He remembers looking down at it from the office building, and seeing the farms scattered all around. It was probably nice living on a farm, with animals as your only company. That’s… basically the closest he has even been to other cities. 

“I’m here for work! Have a meeting with someone later on, but I do plan to visit some places after that. I don’t think being a tourist for a day or two will harm my schedule, I have freedom in my work, you know.” No. Grian, in fact, does not know, because he spent the last three years working in this cafe without a real break. Almost every day these past years his life was just to wake up, go to work, come back, eat, sleep, and repeat. 

“Yeah, I know,” He says, deciding to humor the stranger. “Well, If you’d like to buy something you probably can’t find back in Kinoko, I would suggest going to the shopping district. You can’t come to Hermittopia and not go shopping. Great place to grab a souvenir. But also Hermitland, everyone needs to visit that place at least once, it’s amazing.”

Grian remembers being to Hermitland two years ago when he and Ren first moved in, and Ren decided that it would be a great idea to celebrate. He can’t say that he didn’t enjoy it; yeah, it was very stressful with far too many people around, and non-stop screaming and loud talking, but it was still fun. At least he didn’t have to suffer alone. At some point, both Grian and Ren had to grab noise-canceling headphones, which the Hermitland staff were kind enough to give away, considering their mutation. By the end of the day, they both looked like kicked puppies, and Grian isn’t even a dog!

Huh… Maybe he and Ren can go there again this year after Grian is done moping. Who knows.

“Right! The amusement park! My friends asked me to go with them last year, but I couldn’t. I think it’s a great idea to go now, I would love to see it, especially now that they have a whole new section open! What was the name?” The stranger mumbled under his breath.

“Scarland,” Grian quickly supplies, recalling the day of the opening of Scarland. Hermitland is not far from Boatem, the opposite actually; it takes an hour to get there, but he never had any problems with being so close to the place… Until almost a year ago, that is. The Scarland opening was a huge event, they could hear the music and fireworks even back at their apartment, which was insane. Yet another confession: Grian was not surprised when that happened. Scarland was the center of attention for a lot of people, for a long time, with the man behind the place overtaking the internet– not only inside, but outside Hermittopia.

“Yeah! Scarland! It was designed by Scar Goodtimes, right? The Hotguy?” Grian nods, his attention now fully back to the stranger. The man was holding his chin up with his hands, his elbows on the table while he whistled. “The name suits him, he’s hot.”

“Well-” Grian made a choking sound, immediately looking away, while the man giggled. “He is, yeah,”

As a total gay mess, Grian cannot deny that the man was attractive, but his demeanor and chase after popularity– which he showed in almost every single interview– kinda threw it all away. 

He’s working with the government, Grian. His mind reminded him, and… Yeah. They all are the same. He acts like he works for people, but he’s not, none of them do. 

He can feel his hands starting to shake and his mind becoming fuzzy. The stranger was saying something, but he couldn’t hear anything over his own breath, loudly echoing in his ears.

He probably knows about you, about them.

He drops the glass and it’s a miracle it doesn’t shatter in a sink. He doesn’t even remember taking the glass in the first place, was he trying to get some water? Right, he was probably doing just that. 

“Grian?” He jumps, turning around to face the customer, who stops energetically speaking, now looking at him with melancholic eyes. “Is everything alright? I hope I’m not getting on your nerves, people sometimes can’t deal with me when I start talking non-stop,” he says with a giggle. This man giggles a lot, doesn’t he?

“Yeah, I’m alright, sorry, The glass just slipped,” he said, trying to switch attention to something else. He does not need to think about it all right now. Suddenly there’s a slight buzzing sound and the stranger looks down at his clock, turning it off.

“I’m gonna be late to the meeting if I don’t leave soon, ah,” The stranger sounded very disappointed with the news. Grian looked up at the clock and noticed that it was just under five minutes left before the opening. The stranger could probably wait a bit longer and, if he wanted to buy anything, do it after opening; but after the past few minutes he would feel kinda guilty making him wait even longer.

“I… can take an order, if you want,” He suggested, glancing back at the man, who looked up at him with a giant grin on his face.

“You can? Oh, that would be so lovely! I’m usually good with people, but even I don’t know if the person will be good with me coming in late,” He said with a nervous giggle. “I don’t need much, a mocha and a chocolate cookie will be enough, thank you!”

Grian quickly nodded, turning back towards the coffee machine. “That would be $4.20”

“Huh? Are you sure?” The stranger asked from behind. The voice sounded wary but at the same time… not? It’s like he still had his childish grin on his face, and he knew it would happen. “I don't think that’s right.”

“Cookie is on the house,” Grian responded, sending a quick smile towards him. 

Honestly, Grain didn’t know why he was doing this. He doesn’t remember doing this even once in all his years in the cafe, so why? He was in a bad mood today, the second he woke up, and then the whole thing with Ren… The rain… But a 10-minute talk with this man somehow managed to give him the energy that he needed. Either Grain is finally losing his mind, or the stranger was indeed an Enchanted. He would have loved a power like that. If it was a power after all.

“Aww! Thank you, Grian, This place has great customer service, not a surprise that I’ve heard so many compliments about it, people love it here!” Grian would gladly point out that it was kinda not true. Yeah, they were popular, yeah people loved the cafe, but Grian was not the reason why. Out of all the people here, Grain was probably the most hated, which meant that he was the only one hated. There’s no way someone hated either Stress or Jevin, they were fun to have around. 

Slowly pouring the mocha into a special Double Hearted to-go cup, he turned around, seeing the money on the counter with the stranger standing over it and bouncing on his feet. He quickly grabbed two cookies with the tongs, putting them in a small bag, and placed it with the mocha on the counter, taking the money. 

“Enjoy!” He says with a smile, putting the money in the cash register while the stranger smiles back.

“I sure will! Might hop back here before I leave the city later, I hope I’ll see you once again, it was nice to talk to you! Will make sure to visit Hermitland before going home.”

“Have fun there! I’m sure it won’t disappoint you,” The stranger gave him an odd smile after hearing this, which caught him off guard for a second. It wasn’t creepy or anything, just slightly… unsettling.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m hard to disappoint. I’m always up for anything, can’t get used to the calmness, you know? You shouldn’t either!” Huh? What is that supposed to mean?

“Why shouldn’t I?” He asks, his eyebrows raising.

“Life is a strange thing, Grian, it doesn’t just… calm down, it’s always up to something! If you think that your life is calm or boring, well… you’ll be in for a surprise; just hope that the surprise will be good for you.” With that, the stranger gives him one last giggle, before turning around with his mocha and cookies in hand and moving towards the door. “Don’t forget that! You might think that your life is predictable, but it’s not, so always be ready! Byyyee, Grian!”

Grian stands there for a few minutes after the door shuts behind the stranger. That was… by far the most bizarre thing that happened to him this week! That’s something! He lets out an annoyed sigh, regretting the free cookies given. He should have gotten the full price, but– well, a little late for that now.

He tries not to think about the man and his strange last words for the next few hours. At some point, he completely forgets what happened in the morning. People come and go, the cafe as always being a little overcrowded, and he has to deal with it alone until eleven o’clock hits, and Stress finally arrives for her shift. They exchange quick hello and hi’s, before she disappears back in the staff room to get dressed; because while Grain loved putting the uniform on back at home, Stress did it here, walking around Boatem in her beautiful flower dresses. 

“Okay, what about this,” Stress starts the moment she comes back. “I can take care of the counter and coffee, while you count everything. We need to see what we have left before placing the order today.”

“Oh, yeah, I can do that, let me finish this and I’m gonna check up on everything,” Grian answers, pouring another cup of coffee.

“Great! Also, you don’t have your name tag on,” Stress moves around him, greeting another person in front and starting to take an order, when her words finally get to him. He didn’t? 

Grian looks down at his chest, noticing that yes, his name tag was missing today. He might have forgotten it back home, his head was all fuzzy, with him trying to leave the apartment as soon as possible. But… how? Wait... 

It had been so many hours ago that he hadn't thought about that conversation, but now it was all coming back, confusing Grian even more; because didn’t the man… huh, he’s pretty sure he did use his name. Not once, but twice. They’d never met before, Grian is sure of that, so how did he-?

Agh, this is so confusing, what the heck?!

Grian decided he didn’t want to think about it anymore. That man was strange, he knew that the second he entered the cafe, so there was nothing new there. Maybe it was his enchantment. Yes! Exactly! An enchantment giving an ability to know people's names, why not? For now, he will roll with that, because he does not have the energy nor the desire to think about it any longer.

4 pm hits the clock soon enough, announcing the end of Grian’s shift. 

“I can stay another hour if you want,” He tells Stress, looking at her from the other side of the counter. He was already leaving, but looking at more people approaching, he felt guilty for leaving her alone with this crowd.

“It’s okay, luv, Jevin will be here soon enough. I don’t mind working alone, you know that.” Well, he does, but it doesn’t change the guilt he’s feeling.

“Okay, I'll leave you to it then!” He says, waving at her and leaving. He looks down at his phone, checking for any new messages, thinking maybe Ren texted him something (which he did a lot) but his DMs were empty. Well fuck, he upset him even more than he thought, didn’t he? Or was it something else? Agh.

He was almost at his apartment when something suddenly exploded a few streets away, sending a terrifying sound around. He notices people running out from around the corner, screaming, and takes a step back. 

For fucks sake, of course it had to happen right now, right when he was passing by– his day just can’t get any better! He wants to turn around and go back to the cafe, another hour of work will be great! But the second he actually turns, he hears another scream coming from the street around the corner.

“Mom?!” Well fuck. He waits a second, hoping to hear a woman's voice, but starts shaking when he notices that the response never came. It was a girl, no older than an age between 9 and 11; she sounded so young and so fucking terrified. What happened to her mother? Did she lose her in this mess? Or was she attacked and now laying dead in front of- No. No, no, no, Grian stop thinking about it.  He wanted to run away, he wanted to hide, but the screams of the little girl still echoed around the street (or maybe just the walls of his own mind-), and he couldn’t move. He needs- He- He needs to-

_______

'-.° Masterpost - Next Part °.-'

[theflippedpages]

The Chiseled Catastrophe - 1

Episode 1 - Trapped Together

-----------

(This is a continuation of my previous post of a new fanfiction! I will make a post with all the hyperlinks once it's all posted!)

Grian's eyes fluttered open, and he felt a dull throbbing in his head. As he slowly sat up, he realized he was on a bed, but this wasn't just any bed. It looked like a blocky Minecraft-themed bed, complete with pixelated patterns. He looked down at himself, and found himself wearing a red sweater and black jeans. What a coincidence… This is my Minecraft outfit…

He was surrounded by walls adorned with cubic designs, and the entire room had a surreal, blocky feel to it. He wondered for a moment if he had gone crazy. This is what I deserve when I play Minecraft for a living. With cautious steps, he rose from the bed and stumbled into the hallway. There, he found nine other doors, and could only assume that they led to a similarly themed room. 

Grian's head swam with confusion as he ventured into the large mansion-like structure. Everywhere he looked, he saw a fusion of reality and Minecraft. The furniture was made from blocky materials, like wooden chairs and stone tables. Paintings on the walls depicted creeper explosions and landscapes straight from the game. Redstone lamps emitted a soft, pixelated glow. 

He made his way to the dining room, where a long table was set with block-shaped dishes and utensils. It was as if the mansion was straight out of a Minecraft world. As he continued to explore the mansion, he discovered a grand library filled with oversized Minecraft-themed books and enchanting tables. The backyard, though closed from view, resembled what seemed to be a lush forest biome, complete with artificial trees and a pixelated waterfall. What is going on?! Is this a dream? Who brought me here? Am I alone? The room-sized question mark in his mind continued to grow. It was then he noticed the long, dark screen taped to his arm. He pulled against it, hoping for the snap of tape or the crackle of Velcro, but it seemed adamant against his skin. He tilted his head to the side of the screen and recognized the medical tape hidden in it. Under the tape, however, was a needle that fed into his veins. What the hell is going on?! Why is this on me? He tapped the screen, and it lit up in red, and big white letters were typed over it.

"Welcome, Grian."

It's using my username. That's… expected, I suppose. This mansion does seem to revolve around Minecraft. 

Grian tapped it again. 

"No games have started yet."

No games? His mind floated back to the letter. ‘Please be prepared for a night filled with enigmatic challenges, engaging experiences, and the thrill of the unknown.’  And the realization hit him hard, startling him from the dazed after-effect of the chloroform. The people from the letter must’ve brought me here. They kidnapped me. Grian’s breathing picked up. I was kidnapped. 

He quickly searched the mansion again, this time with a goal to find an exit. He picked up a blocky fork from the dining table as a ‘weapon’ just in case his captors came back. Eventually, across from the stairs that went to the second floor, was a large foyer that held a set of grand doors as its middle point. Expectantly, he tugged against the large handles, only to find it did not budge. It felt like he was pulling and pushing against a wall. 

“It won’t work so simply, Grian.” 

The brunette instantly turned back, holding the fork forward like a sword.

Joey climbed down the same stairs, fiddling with the same screen on his own arm. Grian could catch the dark purple on his screen, and also the obvious fact that he didn’t look concerned. He wore a red and white striped shirt that Grian recognized as his Empires outfit, with brown suspenders that attached to his similarly-colored ripped shorts. 

“There’s no escape. There never is.” 

“Are you a part of this?” He growled. “Did you have a hand in… this?!”

“I’m a player, just like you, Grian. Always am.” Joey sighed. “This just isn’t my first rodeo.” 

Grian stepped back as the other reached the bottom of the stairs. “Explain yourself.” 

“I will. I’d rather everyone else wake up too, so I won’t have to repeat myself.” 

“Everyone else?” His eyes widened. “Who else is here?” 

“You haven’t seen? There aren’t just ten bedrooms here for decoration.” 

I’m not alone! Grian was quick to push past him, stumbling up the stairs in a panic. Who else did they get? He skipped the first door –which was his– and pushed into the second door. He gasped abruptly, spotting a familiar suited man curled up. "Oli!" 

He ran to Mumbo's side, confusion clouding him once more. This letter must be the same one he got. As did Tango and Ren… He nudged him, and with a muffled groan, the redstoneer sat up. Grian was instant to hug him. "Oh thank heavens, you're awake!"

"Charles?" Mumbo's voice was groggy as he wiped at his eyes. "...Grian? What's going on?" 

"We've been kidnapped. We've been taken hostage." That woke the older, his eyes widening.

"I'm sorry?"

"It seems like that letter –you know, the one you got about Minecraft– knocked us out or something…" Grian spoke quickly and with heavy breaths. "And now we're here. 10 of us."  

"Charles, you can't be serious." Mumbo looked around, then down at himself. He spotted his own screen. It lit up yellow. "Why is everything so blocky? And...Why am I in a suit?"

"The exact reason why I'm in a red sweater with parrot wings engraved on the back." 

"Someone must be insane for Minecraft if they went as far as to decorate their entire home in this fashion and kidnap two famous YouTubers." 

"Not just two, Mumbo." He reminded him. "Ten."

"There's 10 of us? Wait, that means Ren and Tango too?" 

"Come on, let's go see who else this maniac kidnapped…" He helped his friend up. "Also, stay away from Joey. I don't trust him."

"I'm staying away from anyone I don't know." 

“Fair.” Both men waddled over to the door beside Grian’s. The shorter brunette peeked his head in first. “Hello?” 

“Grian?” He heard an accented voice and instantly connected it to a face. 

“Joel!” Grian pulled Mumbo in, walking into the room. “Oh my gosh, you’re here too?”

“I thought I got drunk or something.” The man on the bed slurred. He wore a toga that stretched to his calves, a green stripe running down the fabric's edge. He wore tall sandals to match the god-esque appearance. His screen was a dark green. “It feels like I’m lucid dreaming.” 

“Unfortunately,” Mumbo cut in, “this isn’t a dream. We’ve been… kidnapped.” 

Joel seemed to freeze up. “...Kidnapped? You mean…”

“You most likely got a letter about a Minecraft party,” Grian explained, now a bit more relaxed upon seeing familiar faces, “it made us sleepy, and somehow, we’re trapped in a Minecraft-themed mansion.” 

“Gosh…” He looked around, his panicked mood heightening upon the realization that a person was missing. “Wait, where’s Lizzie?!”

“Oh, we haven’t seen her… yet.” 

Joel, though still healing from the dizzy spell, stumbled off the bed, wandering into the hall with worry in his eyes. “Lizzie?!” 

“Wait, Joel–!” Grian ran after him, Mumbo right on his trail. "Don't be so loud-"

“Joel!”

Relief washed over the face as he heard the voice of his wife.

“Joel, I’m here!” The door beside his creaked open, revealing Lizzie in what seemed to be a blue schoolgirl outfit. She wore a white undershirt and a blue blazer over it, with matching blue pants and white cut shoes. And her face changed from one of worry to one of pure bliss. "Joel!" 

They were quick to embrace, Joel pecking her forehead. "Thank the world you're safe," he sighed, pressing their heads together for a moment. Her pink screen lit up.

"I don't remember what happened…" Her attention turned to the men by the door. "...Grian? Mumbo?" 

They both gave a short wave. "Odd circumstances, isn't it?" Grian walked in, also spotting the same Minecraft-like blocky furniture and paintings in her room too.

"It feels wrong to joke about this, but…" Mumbo shrugged. "it's the only way to cope that doesn't involve panic and crying."

"We're locked in, Lizzie." Joel growled. "Some insane man got a hold of all of our addresses, and decided to lock us in this weird Minecraft mansion." 

She hugged him tight. "We can't get out?" 

"I was hoping that we could gather more people before we searched for an exit, you know?" Grian answered. "There's 10 of us here. I believe there is peace in numbers, so I thought I would get everyone up before we searched the building for a way out."

"Good thinking," Joel nodded, taking his wife by the hand, "let's wake the 6 others." 

“... Actually, it’s 5.” Grian hummed. “Us four, and… Joey.” 

Lizzie looked at him and tilted her head. “Joey? Like, Joey Graceffa?” 

“Yeah. He was actually the first person I found. He’s the one that told me that there were even 10 of us here to begin with.” 

“Then who are the last 5?” 

“Tango and Ren are two I recall who got the same letter as me.” Mumbo spoke up. “I’m sure the rest are a mix of other Hermits and Empires members.”

“Who is this person anyway? What do they want with us?” Lizzie was still very disheveled, but Grian couldn’t blame her. When he had woken, he had been in a panicked rage too. But now… he was just trying to be patient. Surely, if this person had taken the time to kidnap 10 YouTubers from all over the world, it wasn’t just for murder… right? 

“We don't know dear. But I agree with Grian, we have to talk to the others,” Joel muttered, still holding onto Lizzie.

After just a blink of silence, a piercing scream resounded from the hallway.

"Stop! Stop it!"

The four instantly ran to the doorway. 

Scott was in the middle of the hallway, holding a pixelated lamp with its wire yanked out and raising it over a man in a cowboy outfit. It looked like he was ready to bash that man's head in. 

“Stop! Don't hurt me!" The scream was repeated again, the accent paired with the voice ringing familiar into the ears of the others. 

"Scott, that's Jimmy!" Joel ran to break it up before it got worse, heading toward the cowboy who was trying to shield himself with his wide-brimmed hat. Jimmy looked out, stumbling forward and away from the way of the lamp. 

That's when the others were able to see him properly. He wore a white long-sleeve button-down –its arms folded up to his elbow– and dark blue jeans that matched the bandana wrapped around his neck and the stripe along his hat. Attached to the shirt was a shiny gold pin that paired well with his gold belt buckle. A light green screen lit up with his username. 

"Jimmy-?" The man dropped the stance, holding the lamp to his chest. Scott was wearing his explorer outfit: the multi-colored jacket with a white undershirt, black jeans, and knee-high boots. He also had a hat with a color scheme similar to his jacket and a white feather sticking out from its side. The light blue screen on his arm also lit up with his username. "Jimmy!" He exclaimed, surprise flashing on his face. "Oh, I didn't realize it was you, I'm so sorry-" 

"It's okay," Jimmy huffed, pressing his hair down before nesting his hat over it, "I can understand why you'd want to attack a random shadow peeking into your room." 

"...well, there's two down." Grian counted in his head. Me, Joey, Mumbo, Joel, Lizzie, Scott and Timmy… 7. "We just need three more." 

"I saw Ren," Jimmy motioned to the closed door beside him, "but he was sleeping. So I thought I'd investigate the room in front of me… and…" He chuckled hoarsely, "seems like he was already awake. And quite paranoid." 

"I'm very concerned that you aren't, Jim." Scott frowned. "You wake up with no memory in a room that's completely blocky and weird… and… you don't find that frightening?!"

"I…" Jimmy let that thought linger. "I thought–… Well… yeah, I suppose you're right."

"Listen, we just need to get two more of us, and we can create an escape plan," Grian tried to explain.

"How many of us are there?!" Scott scanned the familiar faces, setting the lamp on the carpeted ground. 

"10!" Joel recited. "Us… 5, and you two make 7, and… Ren and Tango make it 9."

"5? There's only–"

"Joey." Mumbo explained. "Joey is downstairs."

"Do we have to explain this to everyone?" Lizzie groaned. "We don't have to wait for everyone, do we?" 

"Maybe we can explain one last time to the group as a whole, since I do understand your irritation, Lizzie." Grian hummed. "Let's just regroup downstairs… could one of you…" he motioned to the crowd. "Get Ren, Tango, and the other mystery guest?"  

"I can do it," Mumbo spoke up. "I can get them." 

With a nod, Grian guided the rest to the stairs. They climbed down and noticed Joey, in his pirate-themed clothing, pacing by the large doors. His arms were folded behind his hack, and he seemed to be in a dazed mind. 

"Joey! And look– an exit!" Lizzie was quick to hop down the remaining stairs, racing for the large double doors.

Joey put a hand out in front of her. "Don't bother, it's bolted shut."

"I've already tried that way, Lizzie," Grian muttered, standing at the bottom of the stairs. "It's not going to be an easy way out. This person definitely thought this through. They wouldn't just open the door for their captives, would they?"

"That person drugged our letters. Surely, they're smarter than that." Scott said with a scoff, crossing his arms. 

The group began to disperse organically. Grian and Jimmy stayed back by the stairs, waiting for Mumbo, while Joel joined Lizzie in trying the door. Joey was the only one who dared to explore past the main foyer, peeking into the large dining room. He didn't make it to the main hall before his attention was caught by 8 feet creaking down the stairwell. 

“This is crazy,” Tango spoke out, walking in front of the group. He wore a crimson jumpsuit with a gray vest over it and gray boots that matched, reminiscent of his casual Minecraft skin.

“And absolutely terrifying,” Martyn continued, adjusting his brown suspenders on his dark brown full-sleeve. Similar to Jimmy, he wore a green bandana around his neck and a golden badge and belt buckle. His jeans were a faded chocolate, and he had little gold buttons along the side of his high boots. 

 Ren followed them, the suited man behind them all. “I still feel so dizzy, Mumbo.” He seemed to be wearing the least cosplay-looking outfit, wearing a bright red shirt that matched his sneakers, and black suspenders that connected to his blue jeans. 

Jimmy had been startled to hear such familiar voices. It was interesting seeing their faces for the first time –except Martyn, of course– when their voices were all too familiar. “Tango!” He exclaimed, recognizing the dark red jumpsuit. 

Tango only stopped for a second to read the room before his attention turned to the Sheriff sitting a couple of stairs down. “Jimmy!” He was quick to run down the rest, and they embraced in a tight, yet short hug. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe you’re here!”

The hat slid down his hair as he laughed. “Neither can I!”

Grian watched for a moment, gently motioning the happy Ranchers to get out of the way as the others climbed down. “Ren! Martyn! Now, we finally have 10 of us!”

“10?!” Martyn exclaimed. 

“Shall we move to the main hall?” Joey interrupted, pointing to an archway that led further into the east side of the home. “There’s a place for all of us to sit down and talk.” 

Lizzie looked at him with a sour gaze. “Sit down and talk?! Joey, we should be escaping, not having tea!”

“We should get some stuff straight, Lizzie.” Her husband tried to ease her panic. “There’s 10 of us here. We need to have a plan before we all wander around for an exit. This person here is smarter than we thought. It will not take one of us to make it out of here.” 

Lizzie opened her mouth to oppose his thoughts but shut it once she realized the complexity of the situation. “Yeah, you’re right. If they went through the hassle of furnishing an entire mansion with Minecraft-themed things and went through with kidnapping 10 Minecraft SMP YouTubers, they must be really keen on keeping us here.” 

Joey guides them to the main hall. The walls are adorned with massive Minecraft decals, reminiscent of ancient hieroglyphs. In one corner, a blocky bookshelf towers ominously, showcasing pixelated tombs and artifacts. The furniture, angular and blocky, appears to defy the logic of the ordinary world.

Jimmy stared with wide eyes. “This is…”

Embedded into the walls were large screens, flickering with scenes from Minecraft realms that were all too familiar for them. The ambient lighting, imitating the soft radiance of torches, cast dancing shadows that played tricks on their eyes.

“Beautiful.” Ren breathed. 

On opposite ends, two large rugs that mimicked the interface of a crafting table dominated the space. On the edges of those rugs were well-positioned couches with endless pillows that were shaped like actual objects from Minecraft. The 4 sofas and couches were just enough for the ten of them. Grian, Mumbo, and Ren shared a couch and Martyn, Scott, and Joey took another. Joel and Lizzie shared a loveseat, and Jimmy and Tango did as well. 

Martyn eyed the screens in suspicion. “Beautifully odd.” 

Many pillows were scattered around the entire hall, some nestled in the bookshelves, some resting on the floor and some just stacked on hanging shelves. Pixelated paintings seemed to be ripped from the game itself, and chandeliers crafted to resemble redstone lamps cast a dim, spectral glow. 

“What’s with the armbands?” Ren asked, prying weakly at the screen that lit up a dim dark blue. “Why is it talking to me?” 

“Don’t pull on it too hard,” Grian warned, “there’s a tube that feeds into our veins. It could do something worse.”

Ren’s hand stopped in place. 

“A tube?! God, how insane is our captor?!” Scott yelled, flicking his wrist to possibly catch a glimpse of the supposed tubing behind his screen. 

“This is… truly terrifying,” Tango muttered, pressing his finger against his orange display. 

Grian nodded. “Which is why I’m suggesting we take it slow. We need to keep in groups, and we need to search diligently. We don’t know if our captor is here, or when they'll return.” 

Joey looked away. “They’re always here.” 

“Excuse me?” Martyn’s head jerked to his right to the pirate. “How’d you know that?” 

“This isn’t my first time playing this game.” And the pirate didn’t say anything more. 

Grian got up nervously, hoping to take the awkward air out. “Meanwhile… Let’s begin to split up. I suggest four groups,” he scanned the sofas, “and it seems like we’re already in groups. Are you all comfortable with your  partners?” The trios and duos exchanged looks before nodding and or shrugging, some looking more excited than others. “Good,” Grian nodded. “We can call this group,” he pointed to himself, Mumbo, and Ren, “group 1.” He pointed to the sofa with Jimmy and Tango. “Group 2.” His hand moved to the other loveseat with Lizzie and Joel. “Group 3. And lastly,” he pointed to the group on the other couch: Joey, Scott, and Martyn, “Group 4.” 

“Group 1 will search this living room. Group 2 will search the 10 bedrooms. Group 3 will search–” he paused to remember the layout of the huge mansion, “–the dining room. Group 4 will search the library.” 

Martyn huffed, getting quite annoyed at this adventure-esque feeling Grian was trying to bring. “How is this any safer than trying to bash in the front door with all our weights combined?” 

“We don't know anything in our current state, Martyn.” Grian tried to explain. “But we do know the mansion we're in now. Of course, your idea isn't off the list. But as of now, we need to get an idea of what's in the mansion instead of what's out.” 

“Freedom is ‘what's out’.” Martyn mocked. 

Mumbo sat up in defense of his friend. “Fine, we can keep the exit as the main entrance. But if we do manage to free ourselves, what then?”

“We get help from somewhere. Anywhere but here.” 

“Do you… know what's outside?” The suited man asked patiently. “What if the person has been waiting for us to use this exit? How will we protect ourselves?”

“Close the door on them, I guess.”

“...then?”

Martyn looked at him with a confused expression as if wondering why he was asking about such a specific scenario. “We’d probably hide or something.”

“And wouldn't knowing the overall layout of the mansion do us more good than bad?”

Martyn didn’t look away from Mumbo, imagining many scenarios of his and the group’s escape. Most of them could only happen if they had weapons. He wondered if he could take advantage of this grouping to snatch himself a couple of self-preserving objects. But for that… he’d have to agree to their plan. “Yeah, I understand. It’s better to be safe with other options than leaving head-on.” 

Mumbo smiled, proud of his ability to convince others. “Glad we could come to the same page.” 

Grian nodded to his friend as a small ‘thank you’ before taking the reins on the conversation again. “You’ll each have a partner. Or two. The duos have smaller areas, while the trios have larger rooms. The instant you feel unsafe, we regroup in this room.” 

“Like Grian said, we don't know how much time we have.” Joel stood up, and Lizzie followed. “We better make the most of it, though.” 

With a bit of resistance, the large mass split into 4 groups. Jimmy excitedly talked to Tango as they ascended the stairs, Joel whispered confident assurances to Lizzie as they wandered into the opposing room in the foyer, and Scott tried to start small talk with his upset group member as Joey just led the way wordlessly.  

“So,” Mumbo rubbed the back of his neck, “where should we begin searching?”

[activate-shadow-of-the-window]

Hermittober Day 10: Sacrifice

-

When Pearl had given Hypno permission to come to Great Blackwood’s temple, what she’d expected the mercenary to do was show up in person with an armful of evidence in the middle of the night.

The last thing she’d expected him to do was show up with Etho, of all people, a flock of parrot-folk whom she had mixed feelings about, one very sleep-deprived Grian, one very twitchy Cub, and one very nervous Impulse, at the crack of dawn.

She sighed. “What are you doing with these guys, Hypno?”

The bat-folk grinned unabashedly, flashing his single gold tooth proudly. “Exactly what I told you I would, priestess. It just so happens that everyone here is involved too!”

“I’ll take your word, mercenary. Come on in, Sovereign, Emperor, Sitter, and assorted parrot-folk technicians.”

As the strange bedfellows filed past Pearl, she gave a sharp inhale and grasped her scythe so hard that her knuckles went white. “Cub? Are you, uh, deprived?”

The sovereign nodded mutely and spread his hands, showing off jagged claws of a deep blue color. His whole being was sufficed by that indigo-teal hue: his irises, his hair, his lips, and even a small bruise on his hand from riding hard was tinted with it.

“Yes. It was… a struggle to get here, but Hypno’s urgency convinced me that it was worth the risk. If I remember correctly, Great Ironbark’s temple has a sculk garden. May I visit after the meeting?”

“Of course, neighbor. It has been so long since you were like this, more than a year, if memory serves me. Is your condition related to Hypno’s work?”

“Yes. But the rest can wait, can it not?”

As Pearl escorted the assortment to a small drawing-room, she noticed that everyone was extremely on edge. Impulse’s ears were twitching at every little sound, and he was truly catlike in his movements. Grian’s eyes constantly darted about, and his feathers were fully slicked back. The rest of the parrot-folk mirrored his behavior. Only Etho seemed calm, but then again, he was calm unless something actively horrible was going on.

Etho unshouldered the massive pack he was carrying, and began taking stuff out of it. “Don’t touch this stuff, alright, Pearl? We really, really don’t want to contaminate the evidence. I’m only touching it cause I have both good gloves and experience with this kinda stuff.”

“Since when did you investigate crimes?”

“Since about a week ago. There’ that’s it. Nobody drop any hair or fur or feathers in there, okay? Don’t want our employers thinking we’re the culprits.”

Pearl took in the nonsense that Etho had laid out on the table. A massive bundle of sculk-covered machinery, seemingly rotted beyond use, took up the bulk of the space. A few globs of the stuff sat in a pair of sealed bottles, writhing and striking gently at the glass. A pile of very shiny glass, shattered beyond reconstruction, was heaped up on a handkerchief. And a book marked with ‘Multishot’, lacking the telltale gleam of enchantment.

“What the hell kind of evidence is this?“

Grian quickly scittered over, jabbing a finger at each in quick succession. “Part of a rudimentary Shrieker System, with barely enough range to cover a mile dome. Sculk specimens taken from said system, acting unnaturally according to Cub. The remains of a bottle-o-enchanting, painstakingly gathered up by Salem over there. And a drained, not spent but drained, book of Multishot enchantment.”

“… so? I get that K— they know it has something to do with sculk, but… oh. The culprits had to have gotten it from somewhere, and only Cub, Grian, and Tango grow it in any decent amounts. So they stole it from you, and tried to recreate the Shrieker machine? But why?”

Hypno drew in a breath and clasped his hands. “Well… you know those two people you told me to find and track?”

“Yes.”

“Well, they were actually incredibly easy to find. One William Creek, first name Lord, and one Zedaph, full name unknown. Both in Technicolor, as it seems, alongside an Ernest Xander. They’re all rooming together, but Zedaph only showed up yesterday, so—“

Impulse suddenly jumped up from where he was literally twiddling his thumbs. “Wait, Hypno, how did you get down here from Technicolor in less than a day?”

The bat-folk chuckled. “Oh, I have my ways. Many ways. But the important thing is, I’ve done my side of the bargain. Pay up, priestess, and tell me who I’m really working for.”

“Well, a deal’s a deal. I got contacted by Mayor Keralis and Vice-Mayor Iskall to make good on a debt I owed them. They told me to hire you, and to use you to find out what’s going on down here in the south in relation to the case they’re working. They call it the Lumbar Case, because somehow the Dragon’s Spine is involved. Now that you’ve gotten me what they wanted, I should be sending this evidence up north. But…”

Everyone collectively leaned forward. “But what!”

Pearl sighed. “But. Sigh. They were attacked yesterday. Both mayors were ambushed on their way to the Spine, and Keralis is infected with sculk.”

Cub suddenly lurched up, wings viciously humming into existence as he hissed at the word sculk. “No. No! He can’t be! They couldn’t have done that! No! They must have reverse-engineered my research somehow… in the name of the Void-Spawned Dragon, I will find these idiots if it costs me my flight. No-one deserves to be infected like this.”

As Cub buzzed around the room in a rage, Pearl clacked a hoof to get everyone’s attention. “Cub, Cub, I get it. But you didn’t let me finish. Keralis and Iskall were only attacked by three people. A sword fighter in dark armor, a staff-wielding fighter in a monk‘s robe and mask, and an unseen person firing a crossbow and, uh, and arquebus. A pistol, most likely. All three managed to escape, but Keralis grabbed something from the sword-fighter as he tried to flee. Or knight, I should say.”

Everyone’s eyes were drawn to the sketch Pearl held up; a crude drawing of a knight in dark armor, with red eyes glaring out from his visor, and a blood red plume sprouting from his helmet.

[yoshiintheweb]

Week 1&2 Bingo update

Explanations under the cut: SPOILERS for 2 first sessions obviously

FIRST ROW

Unlikely team up comes with a steal chair: ✅ Bad Boys are literally what I thought of when making this category (to be more specific team up of Joel and Jimmy was on my mind when writing it down, and Grian is an excellent addition to it!); The Bread Bridge was all i needed to see

Scar Steals the Enchanter: ✅ he did so in episode two, Enchanting table of The Clockers was previously own by Bad Boys

SECOND ROW

Absent member comes back: ✅ Skizz is there, and he's suffering. Wonderful

THIRD ROW

Previous alliance is referenced: ✅ there was many moment I could check this one out, but the moment which made me do it, was the gift of Pufferish of Peace

Traps Fails: ✅ honestly i was sure this one will be a skill issues but Martyn and his failed boogie kill was EXCELLENT alternative

FOURTH ROW

Wooden Base burns to the ground (again): ✅ The Mansion. Wouldn't count it if the Bad Boys didn't claimed the roof

FIFTH ROW

Someone looses a life in the first session: ✅ So much death. I originally intended it to mean someone goes yellow but since death=/= going color down this time around I've decided to check it anyways cuz it was about instant death, and what's more instant then what happened to Skizz in the first session

Possible checks of the future:

-Joel tries to kill a lot, to be fair he already did, but i intended it as player only, so his cow murder spread can't be counted

-Wolf army, via Scar

-Martyn does lore, I have no idea as of now it's 50/50. First episode was looking as if would do so (black screen, leaving alliance stuff from his episode just like in last life) but idk the second episode had nothing like that, so time will tell

Im jumping in with the bingo card for season 4, im pretty sure most of them happened in all 3 seasons, so the pattern might continue

Explanation under the cut, if anyone needs them

FIRST ROW

-Jimmy dies first: as per usual

-pet murder: was there in 3rd life, was there in Last Life, was there in Double life. Honestly inescapable. I don't count wolves lost in battle unless they have a specific name

-unlikely team up comes with a steal chair: either an alliance with two or more players who never interact with each other in previous editions or a team up of two or more players who are antagonize each other for most of the time who turns out to be a perfect fit for each other

-Tango Rage Moment: it will happened at some point.

-Scar steals the enchanter: He needs to have it, and if there's an option to do so, he will.

SECOND ROW

-Terry comes back: self-explanatory

-dramatic betrayal: there's so many betrayals in every edition

-Joel tries to kill a lot: Originally Joel Kills a lot, he own the title of Most Kills of the season twice in a row now. That's everything he has, killing. He will try and i hope he succeed

-absent member(s) comes back: Skizz, Lizzie and or Mumbo, who are all not in Double Life makes a come back for nee season

-arson backfires: someone tries to burn stuff, it turns against them

THIRD ROW

-previous alliance is referenced: Desert Duo, Flower Husband, Dogwarts, The Gs, Southlands, Magical Mountain ect ect. In any way. The soulbounds in any way excluding "divorces"

-secret alliance is formed: Impulse and Crastle Duo, The Shadow Alliance, The Secret Soulmate. It's a pattern

-free space: bloodshed and tumblr going bonkers

-trap fails: doesn't work, does work but doesn't kill

-Tango dies in a stupid way: His cursed like that. Happened trice.

FOURTH ROW

-an episode is lost due to technical difficulties: anything from corrupted footage to missing audio, basically when someones episode doesn't get published even if they were in the session, due to anything else then not posting it

-accidental foreshadowing of a great tragedy: a thing that happened in previous session, predicts a disaster from the future, due to coincidence cuz the series is not scripted

-Grian kills the one closest to him: Scar in 3rd life, Mumbo in Last Life, BigB and Scar in Double Life. He is cursed like that.

-someone missed a session: just that

-wood base burns to the ground (again): they will not learn, there will be a wood base.

FIFTH ROW

-Martyn does lore: any kind of straight up story telling

-someone is left alone for the whole season: Joel in 3rd life. Scar in Last Life. Pearl in Double Life. There's always some loner out there

-there's only 7 sessions: listen. The previous seasons had 8, 9 and 6 sessions. We need 7 for consistence sake

-wolves army make a return: JOEL GRAIN AND PEARL HAD A WOLF ARMY IN A SEASON A PATTERN PEOPLE

-someone lose a life in session 1: there's always someone who dies instantly so i bet there will be someone like this too

[frombeyondtheblackhole]

Hermit DSMP Swap AU: Part 9.3

Boatem had a new member. Joe introduced Foolish to all the Hermits in Boatem but didn’t stay long before heading off to see if he could help X with the server problem. Once Joe found out that Cleo was gone he was determined to find a way to get her back. Grian was glad that X was getting some help, and he couldn’t think of anyone better than Joe when it came to server magic.

Foolish was rather nice too. Unlike the other two Dream SMP members he actually seemed to have a head for building. Grian soon found himself deep in a conversation about design problems and building pallets. Foolish even commiserated with him over interiors.

Pearl and Scar agreed to help Foolish settle in but he seemed pretty capable on his own. He just needed a little help with material collection. Foolish chose to build his house in the space between Grian's house and Scar’s Landboat. He went with a design that used sandstone as the main wall color and used spruce wood for support structures and detailing.

Even though Scar was supposed to be the one helping, Grian couldn’t help it and found himself hanging around as Foolish built. Grian wasn’t supposed to do strenuous building yet but he could still watch. Foolish showed Grian the building plans before he started. It was of an impressive size for a starter house, one that didn’t look out of place next to Grian, Scar or Pearls ridiculously large starters. It was going to be a multi-tiered house that got bigger as it went up taking inspiration from medieval houses. A crooked tower came out of the side of the building on the second floor and broke through the roof.

Grian sat in a lawn chair in front of his house and watched Foolish build, Adjusting the sunglasses over his eyes as he looked up.

Foolish stood on the roof near the base of the half finished tower. A Cobbled deepslate foundation at the bottom gave way to smooth sandstone, spruce logs made up support pillars at intervals with empty spaces for widows between.

“Looking good,” Grian called up.

Foolish looked back, shading his eyes with his hand, and smiled. “It’s coming along… I’m running low on sandstone though. I am going to need more if I am going to finish the tower. He carefully slid down the roof and climbed down the scaffolding. He brushed his hands off at the bottom and walked over to where Grian sat so he could get a better look at the build. “It could use some detailing, maybe some more color.” Foolish muttered

“Copper might look good. Or maybe some leaves and plants.” Grian suggested.

“Window boxes. That’s a good idea.” Foolish announced, brightening up. Grian watched as Foolish collected some grass from the yard, replacing it with dirt so it could grow back. Foolish walked over to the side of the house, and grew to over double his previous size, before proceeding to build window boxes under the second story windows.

Grian started at the sudden change and almost fell out of his chair “Wait, what? How did you-?”

Foolish turned around and looked down at Grian, “Oh right, this.” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “This is nothing. I usually stay small because it is more convenient, but it’s useful for building sometimes, especially detail work.” He shrunk back down to a ‘normal’ size and looked at his hands flexing them. “Honestly, I haven’t felt this good in over a century… maybe, Like this, I might even be able to-” he looked up at Grian, a new kind of resolve and hopefulness in his eyes. “Grian do you have any gold and some emeralds I can borrow. I need to try something.”

Grian hesitated. This was server magic. That could be dangerous. But he was also curious. He stood up and nodded, “I have a little, how much do you need?”

Foolish came over “Only two emeralds and two blocks of gold.”

“Alright,” Grian nodded “That’s easy enough. What are you planning to do with it?”

“Oh you’ll see,” Foolish said, grinning with barely contained excitement.

Grian had an uneasy feeling about this but Joe had said that this guy had a really solid grasp on server magic, better than anyone Joe had ever seen before, even himself. Grian decided to trust him, maybe he could learn something. Something that could help them fix the crack Grian had made.

Grian went inside his house and opened his ender chest. Taking out the materials requested he handed them to Foolish who had followed him.

Foolish took the materials outside and placed them on the ground. “Alright stay back this should only take a minute,” Foolish said.

Grian watched from the doorway of his house.

Foolish took a deep centering breath and closed his eyes. He held his hand out over the pile of gold and gems. There was a tingle in the air. Green sparks danced along Foolish’s arm and between his fingers. The sky grew overcast with dark clouds and a rumble of thunder sounded.

Foolish shouted a word in enchantment-table that Grian recognized as meaning “Life.” and he was momentarily blinded by a bright green flash of light.

Grian blinked looking around. The sun was out again, the sky clear and standing in front of Foolish was a little girl made of gold with emerald eyes.

Foolish went down on one knee, beaming and holding out a hand to her. “What’s your name?”

She blinked at his hand for a moment then smiled “My name is Genesis,” She said grinning up at Foolish.

“That’s a beautiful name,” Foolish chuckled and picked her up, turning to Grian, “Grian, meet my daughter, Genesis.”

Grian stared in shock, his head spinning. His daughter?

---

Xisuma Immediately felt it. Like someone had just reached in and yanked a piece of the server free. It left him breathless. It was violent, but also precise.

“You ok there?” Joe asked, leaning over the table from where he had been looking through some old books on server magic.

X looked up at Joe from across the table. Fear wavering in his eyes. “You said that our latest visitor had experience with server magic right?”

Joe nodded slowly and frowned, “Yeah, he didn’t seem that concerned about the consequences either. Said he was experienced enough to know how to avoid them.”

“I just felt a surge of server magic. It felt like something reaching in and ripping a piece of its heart out.” X’s brows furrowed and he rested his hand on his chest over his heart.

“It’s heart…?” Joe muttered

X stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor “Come on, we need to go to Boatem and figure out what’s going on.”

---

X and Joe arrived in Boatem to find Foolish surrounded by the other Boatem members asking him excited questions while George and Skeppy watched from the roof of Skeppy’s house. X caught the concerned look Grian gave him as they approached.

Foolish turned around and for the first time X noticed the little girl in his arms. He didn’t need to ask to know she wasn’t an npc. She was a Player. A player who was a child? That was impossible. The second thing he noticed was that her energy matched that of the server.

He pulled up his GUI and checked Tab. She was there. She was listed as Genesis. Not only that but she was whitelisted, and unlike the other Dream SMP members, the server didn’t think she was one of the hermits.

Foolish furrowed his brow with concern, “Xisuma, what’s wrong?”

X snapped himself out of it and looked up at Foolish “What did you do?”

Foolish blinked. He looked genuinely confused. “Um, this is my daughter Genesis.”

“He made her out of some gold and emeralds twenty minutes ago.” Grian clarified.

“Um- Foolish,” Joe started carefully. “You know that’s not normal right?”

Foolish frowned holding his daughter closer.

“What we mean to say is that Players shouldn’t be able to make other Players.” X tried to explain.

“Just because you haven’t figured out how to do it doesn’t make it wrong. You wouldn’t understand, you've never been a father…”

“Whatever you did to the server, didn’t feel right. Normal new player spawning occurs when a server has excess energy that it needs to discharge, creating a player. You just took that energy before the server was ready. What you did was reckless at best, I haven’t had a chance to assess the damages but you may have just ruined our chances of us being able to fix this and send you all home. I don’t even know if that little girl can go with you when you go. She probably isn’t even whitelisted on your server.”

Foolish’s shoulders sagged and he looked off to the side. Genesis tugged at the fabric of his headdress and rested her head against his shoulder “Pa pa, Is this my fault? Are they mad because of me?”

“Oh sweetheart,” Foolish sighed and shifted her on his hip so she could see him smile “It isn’t your fault. And I don’t regret anything.”

X softened. What was done was done. It wasn’t fair to the child to hold it against them. Though the idea of a Player being such a young child was still strange to him. “Just don’t do any more server magic alright.” X sighed.

Foolish looked at X, a hint of resentment, or was it regret, behind his eyes, “Alright,” He nodded. X hoped he meant it. Maybe there was a good reason the DSMP locked it’s members in.

[thetomorrowshow]

a business venture

DEADCEMBER DAY 29 - Revenge

This was inspired by a post someone made to the effect but I can’t find it!! so if anyone knows what it is please lmk so I can properly credit x

fandom: Last Life SMP

cw: blood, decapitation, temporary character death

~

“They kicked me out.”

Scar chuckles. “Did you deserve it?”

Normally, Jimmy would sputter, protest, laugh it off. Instead, Jimmy stares him in the eye, a gash above his left eyebrow leaving a trail of dried blood down his temple.

Scar’s not ashamed to admit it: he finds himself a tiny bit terrified in this moment. Still, he holds his cool. He’s a businessman, after all. It wouldn’t reflect well on him if he lost it every time a customer acted slightly different than normal.

“Right. Moving on. I suppose you want a life, huh? Something to barter with to get back? I get that—”

“No.”

“N-no?”

“No. I don’t want a life, Scar. Not anymore.”

Scar doesn’t know what that means. Scar doesn’t want to know what that means. Maybe Jimmy wants a crystal? A friendship crystal! That has to be it!

“Well, how about a look at my wares!” Scar suggests. He opens up the door to the basement. Yes, his basement is a little shady. Maybe one day he’ll need it for a Boogey kill, who knows? Until then, he really likes the vibes.

Jimmy doesn’t move.

Scar thinks about poking him. Before he can reach out, though, Jimmy speaks, his words measured carefully as if he’s afraid he’s going to say the wrong thing.

“I don’t want any crystals. I don’t want any lives.”

“Wh-what do you want, then. . . ?”

Scar doesn’t like it at all when a nervous grin unfurls on Jimmy’s face. The man fidgets a bit with his gloves, then meets his eyes.

“I want revenge.”

-

Scar is building the altar while Jimmy pores over what he can only describe as ancient texts—and legit ones too, not the ones that he’s selling (bind together some books, douse them in lemon juice, throw them in the furnace for a few minutes, and voila! cool old books). But Jimmy, brows furrowed, is actually reading a book that is so old and worn the words are barely recognizable as English.

“Can you even read that?” asks Scar, taking a short break to peer over Jimmy’s shoulder. “Can you even read?”

Jimmy snorts, cheeks coloring red. “Yes—yes I can read. And it’s a little rough, but we’re getting there. I think as long as there are pictures on each page, I’m good.”

“Where did you get these anyway?”

“Ren’s private library. He was less than happy to let me have them, but I promised him some stuff.”

“Oh yeah?” The things Scar could get from Ren’s library. . . . “What kind of stuff?”

Jimmy smiles that nervous (but deadly) smile again. Scar can’t help a shiver running down his spine.

“Stuff that, y’know, we’ll get after midnight.”

Scar takes that as a hint, and gets back to building. He doesn’t know why Jimmy can’t ask Ren to do this in the first place, but he can bet that Ren isn’t at all interested. Not after what happened last time. Still, why not anyone else? Why not a Red?

“Why me?” he asks, setting down his chisel. Jimmy sighs and sets the book down.

“Well, Scar, honestly, it’s only you because of a few reasons. The most important is the land.”

Scar quirks an eyebrow.

“This is the place where the enchanting table is,” Jimmy explains. “Magic stuff is already—uh, what word did it use—imbued in the earth. For it to work anywhere else, I’d have to leave the table there for a while. I don’t have that sort of time, not when I could go Red at any minute. And another reason it’s you is because you’re always open to make a deal.”

“So is Joel,” Scar points out. “For the right price, he’ll kill anyone.”

“Right, but Joel is Red. I need a Green Life. You know?”

Scar doesn’t know. But he has to accept that this is magic far older than he or Jimmy or anyone else on the server, with the possible exception of Grian. There are other immortal beings on the server—Scott, for one, but he’s young for an immortal, and Scar’s always had his suspicions about Martyn, no matter what the man says—but none are as . . . eternal as Grian. Still, the last time magic like this was performed, Grian hadn’t seemed to have much of a clue as to what it was.

“Jimmy, I hate to ask this, but—” Scar pauses, checks over his work. He thinks he’s finished, actually. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay as the Red King? He didn’t like you much last time, and we both know how you are about . . . surviving.”

“Oh, stop it,” Jimmy laughs. “Ren said it shouldn’t carry over any hard feelings or anything. And that’s why I’m doing it, so that I’ll survive longer. I’m—I’m on my own, now.”

Scar doesn’t mention that if Jimmy had just asked, he probably would have teamed up with him. Magical Mountain is lonely when your only neighbor won’t even talk to you. He would love an ally, one who didn’t want anything back—a friend.

“What do I get out of this?” he says instead, because above all, he is a businessman. Jimmy would not give him a tactical advantage as a housemate. The Red King as an ally, though? That could be very lucrative indeed.

“Oh, I suppose you just tell me—uh, him? us—what you want. Who you want us to kill.”

“Wait, will you still be you or will it all be him?”

Jimmy frowns, cocks his head. “I think it’ll be some sort of—co-consciousness? Does that make sense? Or, at least, I’ll have some sort of influence or awareness. ‘Cause like, Ren was still there, just maybe not all the time? I don’t really know, though. Ren didn’t want to talk about it.”

“I can imagine. I’m done, by the way.”

Jimmy hops up, something Scar hadn’t noticed falling out of his lap. A diamond axe.

“Is that. . . ?”

Jimmy follows his gaze and laughs a little. “No, just made it myself yesterday. Mind sharpening it a bit while I do the runes?”

“Fancy,” says Scar, gingerly picking up the axe. The words Red Winter is Coming are carved messily into the handle. He’ll have to get used to handling it, he supposes. He’s going to be using it tonight.

-

When Scar approaches the altar, Jimmy is already there, unloading his pockets into a chest. He doesn’t know what he expected—for Jimmy to be dressed regally, perhaps? But he just looks like Jimmy, with the notable addition of his MCC crown. Stupid Captain America costume and everything.

Jimmy drops a few more items into the chest, then turns. He’s pale—very pale, swallowing compulsively as he sends Scar a weak grin. Scar can’t imagine that he’s looking much better. It’s not that he’s particularly torn up over killing Jimmy, he’s just . . . concerned. That’s it, concerned. He’s not scared, not exactly worried, but concerned about unleashing the Red King again. After all, he killed the guy last time. What if the Red King is out for revenge as well?

“Are you sure you—” Scar begins, but Jimmy nods furiously.

“Yes. I need this. Did you get the chalk?”

Scar holds it up—normal chalk, standard Southlands chalk (stolen, of course). Jimmy fumbles it when Scar drops it in his hand, nearly letting it crack on the ground. He manages to catch it just in time, letting out a short, much too high chuckle. "Right. I'll get to drawing these. It'll be a second, so take your time doing—whatever you need to do, yeah?"

"No problem! Just let me know if there's anything you need, all righty?"

The other man nods, already focused on the tome in his right hand. He fiddles with the chalk in his left for a moment, then kneels and sets to work around the rim of the altar.

Scar twiddles his thumbs for a moment, then wanders back inside. Watching Jimmy painstakingly draw out complex runes is not his idea of a good time.

He doesn't get much done, though. There's plenty he could be doing—polishing his crystals, writing out contracts, pricing his new items. Yet he doesn't do any of those things, just sits behind his desk and runs his fingers along the handle of the Red Winter axe.

He can already feel something in the air—a heaviness, a darkness.

(Ren, standing on his wall, gazes forlornly, anxiously, at the clouds gathering over Magical Mountain far in the distance.)

(Etho twitches, turns to Bdubs only to find his partner looking to catch his eye too. They stare at each other, something dawning in their eyes.)

(Scott, tending to some midnight gardening, stands straight up and sniffs the air. Something akin to dread fills his heart, yet he isn't quite sure why.)

(Grian looks, and Grian sees. His skin goes clammy—not with fear. Not for himself.)

(Cleo wakes up, draws her blankets closer around herself. She doesn't know what's going on, but she knows it isn't good.)

(Skizz and Tango feel sudden waves of anticipation and anxiety, one after the other. They don't look at each other, but privately wonder if the other felt the same.)

(Impulse drops the candle that he's lighting as a sudden chill sweeps over him. The candle sputters out.)

(Martyn, stargazing with Mumbo on the Southlands wall, staggers to his feet. "No," he gasps, staring in the direction of Magical Mountain. He knows this feeling.)

(BigB—Terry, asleep, stirs as his dreams suddenly turn red.)

(Joel, alone in his bedroom, gathers his dogs closer. He can't help but feel he'll need them in the coming days.)

(Lizzie, Mumbo, and Pearl feel a wave of cold blanket the air. They wonder what brought this sudden frost. One look at their respective companions tells them that something is wrong.)

(Jimmy, the only sound being the shriek of the chalk, hears whispers. Whispers of death, of blood, of revenge. He shudders, but does not halt.)

Scar stares into his desk, memories of the Red King flickering through his mind. He only looks up when a shadow falls over his face.

"It's ready," Jimmy says, voice quiet. Scar stretches, then stands, shooting Jimmy a very believable grin. He hopes.

"Let's go, your majesty!"

Jimmy clearly restrains himself from wincing, licking his lips nervously. "Right. Um. Let's go, then."

For once, Scar has nothing to say as they trudge from his little wizard tower to the altar out back. The axe makes a heavy weight on his shoulder.

Jimmy stares at the chalk runes circling the altar, chewing on his lip, adam's apple bobbing. Scar claps a hand on his back, grips his shoulder.

"Last chance to back out!"

He means it as mostly a joke, but Jimmy looks up at him, eyes wide. Before Scar can think about that too much, though, his eyes harden, mouth curving into a quivering frown.

Without a word, Jimmy steps over the rune circle and onto the altar. Scar shivers as power beats outward. Jimmy's certainly done those right, if nothing else.

He steps over as well, staggering as the magic washes over him. That’s—that’s intense. That’s the most magic he’s ever felt, and he’s a wizard who lives somewhere called Magical Mountain.

Within the circle of runes, the air is icy. Jimmy is shivering, teeth chattering as he makes a loop around the altar, presumably checking that everything is in place. They’re both silent, so silent that Scar starts to get anxious.

“Ready to be sacrificed to a blood god?” he asks jovially. If possible, Jimmy goes paler. That certainly did nothing to defuse the situation. “Not that—not that it’s a bad thing, sacrifices and blood gods. It’s a first for this server! You’re making history. Imagine how surprised the new folks will be!”

Jimmy swallows. “Right,” he says, fiddling with his gloves. “Um. Anyway, I think—are you ready?”

“Yes, of course!”

“Right. I think I need to be kneel—er, kneeling, in—in the middle here, yeah? So—and you need to properly—um, decapitate me. Like, clean off. Off with his head and all that.”

Jimmy looks like he’s about to be sick all over his brand new altar. Scar should’ve grabbed a bucket or something. Does he still have time to go grab one?

Jimmy closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, then lowers himself to his knees at the center of the altar. He takes another breath there, then looks up at Scar.

“I don’t think there’s any words I have to say,” he whispers. Scar steps closer, hefting the axe off his shoulder. “I think you just . . . do it.”

“Okay.”

Jimmy looks so . . . pitiful, arms hugged around his chest, shivering right out of his skin. His nose and the tips of his ears are pink, his perfectly-coiffed hair slightly limp under his too-big crown. He’s out of place, surrounded by pulsing runes, stars glaring down in place of the new moon. Jimmy’s too innocent for this.

But.

Scar really wants the Red King at his bidding.

“I’ll try to make it quick—”

“Scar, please—”

He raises the axe, brushing it against Jimmy’s neck as the man bows his head—he needs to check to make sure he’s swinging down in the right place! Too bad his hand-eye coordination has never been great.

“And painless—”

“Please—”

“Oops—”

The axe sinks into Jimmy’s shoulder blade. Jimmy lets out a bloodcurdling scream, one that echoes down the mountainside.

(Ren, standing on his wall, hears the faint refrains of Jimmy’s pain. He quakes, then scrambles down and into his tower. He flees—he doesn’t want any piece of this, wants plausible deniability. Most of all, he wants to hide his face under his blankets and escape the chill.)

(Scott drops his shears as his heart stops. He knows that cry, has never heard it quite so agonizing, has never heard Jimmy in such pain. He’s frozen, though, cannot bring himself to move closer, as he desperately hopes that Jimmy will escape whatever is killing him.)

(Martyn is already in the forest when he hears the scream, having scaled down the wall as soon as he felt off. Jimmy—is Jimmy the first victim? He knows he shouldn’t have kicked him out—Jimmy had done something terrible, but he can’t survive on his own. He has to find him, before it all goes wrong—)

(Jimmy is dying, it hurts so much, it missed, it can’t miss he’s going to die and then he’ll be on Red and not the King because it doesn’t work without being beheaded and he’s going to die here, a failed sacrifice on an altar for a god of vengeance and everyone will know his intentions and gods, it hurts—)

Scar yanks the axe out of Jimmy’s back with some difficulty—the man screams again—then swings down hard, this time hitting his mark. Blood spurts everywhere, all over Scar, and he cries out too—he’s just—he—

SolidarityGaming was slain by GoodTimeWithScar using [RED WINTER IS COMING]

Thunder cracks.

Scar watches, shocked, as Jimmy’s decapitated head rolls to a stop at the edge of the runes. His body collapses, blood still flying all over the place, then slowly fades. The head fades seconds later, leaving behind a bloodsoaked MCC crown.

The body fades, but the blood remains splattered all over Scar and the axe and the altar. Scar slowly raises one red hand to his face, trying to wipe it from his eyes. It’s quite literally a bloodbath. He spits; blood drips from his lips.

His communicator buzzes, once, twice, three times. It doesn’t stop. He doesn’t check it. He just stands there, axe held loosely in one hand until it completely slips free and falls to the altar. He’s not sure how to feel—afraid? Excited? Horrified at what he’s just done?

After a moment, he numbly unclips his communicator from the rope around his waist and checks it.

Smajor1995: Oh no.

Grian: oh timmy

impulseSV: WHAT

bigbst4tz2: WHAT?

ZombieCleo: Uh oh

MumboJumbo: boogey?

InTheLittleWood: no no no no no no

LDShadowLady: boogeyman scar?

Etho: That’s not good

Renthedog: I’m so sorry

Smajor1995: Oh no oh no

Etho: Bdubs come home

InTheLittleWood: Southlanders get inside

InTheLittleWood: not you Grian

Smallishbeans: still taking hits! five diamonds for normal person ten for red king

Grian: I figured

MumboJumbo: scar? martyn? what’s happening??

Scar clicks it off and clips it back onto his rope belt, ignoring it as it continues to buzz. Someone will explain it to the newcomers. He can’t right now, not as mist gathers on the mountaintop. The blood is turning hard on the altar—not drying. Freezing. The blood is freezing.

Scar’s sweat is cold as it runs down his temple. He licks his lips, spits out more blood. Jimmy should’ve respawned in the wizard tower. What could be taking him so long?

Then, through the mist, a shadow appears. It grows nearer, and nearer, features slowly becoming discernable, until the runes suddenly shimmer and the Red King steps onto the altar, flurries of sudden snow swirling around him.

Jimmy’s blond hair, once gelled up, hangs down past his chin and over one side of his face, a few braids mixed into the unbrushed mass. He stands taller, prouder, a tilt to his chin that had never been there before. The white S on his chest has become a dirty grey, the rest of his Captain America suit a desaturated black but for his red gloves. A grey fur cloak is clasped around his neck, ratted and torn in places—there’s a hole so large in one spot that his entire shoulder is through it.

His eyes are red, skin a sickly grey. When he sees Scar, his mouth pulls into an unnatural grin. His teeth are uncomfortably sharp.

“Ah, the filthy desert hippie. Are you me hand this time?”

The voice isn’t the same as it was last time. It sounds like Jimmy, Jimmy but with an accent that he’s never known. Jimmy but with a rumble. Jimmy but echoing deeper. The Red King, but put through a Jimmy filter.

“Is—is Jimmy still there?” Scar asks, not sure if he’s being rude or not. The Red King chuckles.

“Yes, I’m still here,” he says, and with this his words are much more Jimmy, not near as accented as before. “I remember everything, don’t worry. But now for your deal.”

“Right! Right, my deal.”

His communicator is still buzzing. Scar smiles nervously as the King turns from him, red eyes darting around the altar.

“I would like,” says Scar, dragging it out as he relishes the words, “you . . . to kill Bdubs. Perma-kill, of course.”

Jimmy—the Red King—laughs. “Etho has wronged you one too many times, has he, Hand?”

“I—I’m not the—yeah, yeah he has.” Scar will handle the whole Hand thing later. Right now is time for revenge. “Think you can do that?”

The Red King stoops, picks up the bloodstained crown and straightens, setting it onto his own head, just slightly off-set. “Of course, me laddie. After all—your Red King has risen!”

Scar can’t help but feel uneasy. Maybe this isn’t his best business venture. It’s too late now.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

Scar shoulders the Red Winter axe and grins.

[redorich]

Hello! I've enjoyed your hermitcraft au tremendously over the last few days, they've filled the void I've expirienced by missing EVERY LAST ONE OF TECHNOS STREAMS BECAUSE HE NEVER ANOUNCES THEM. ehem. I mean- it's a really cool story and I love your style! I just read the last bit of the dream invasion and now I am really excited for Dream on the Hermitcraft server? I assume he probably won't stay there. He's a warrior after all, not just by need but by choice. He's good at it - one of the best and hermits are.. Well, peaceful, ain't they? Plus, there is a country waiting for him back home. But I like the idea that perhaps he stays a little. So X can make sure he really did get all of the dreamon out. Doc possibly does some experiments on him for that - experiments are sort of his thing, after all, as the local crazy mad scientist and everything.

And all the while dream can get better. Sure he is a fighter and all but...the dreamon was with him for so long, it has to be traumatizing as all hell. I like the idea that he gets a bit of time to heal on the hermitcraft server. That Tommy helps him a bit - as much as he can without picking at his own trauma too much. That he learns to be at least a little more peaceful, learns that if people are allowed some peace they can make wonderful things. All the sights on the hermitcraft server are so impressive and I imagine dream is just as astounded that no one griefs them as Tommy is. Especially if so many hermits are just horrible at pvp (not just compared to his standards, he's used to that, but just objectively) they should really be to weak to keep their creations safe.

But still they're peaceful. No powerstruggle, no oppression. It's astounding - to dream anyways. Would that work back home? If he could take a little bit of this mindest back home, perhaps it could help him make up for all the horrible shit he did with dreamon?

If you're up for that, do you mind perhaps writing a little thing about something in that direction? I just want to see the green boy get better - specifically in ur style bc, as stated above, it's a pretty amazing writing style and I have fallen in love

Reconstruction of the Hermitcraft shopping district doesn’t take long. It wasn’t obliterated the way Old L’Manberg was, and there are a lot of hermits with lots of building materials and lots of ideas on how to make the shopping district even better than it was before. Dream revives everyone from the Dream SMP, even the ones who lost their last canon life in the battle, because “canon lives” are a concept that the dreamon came up with anyway. All the Dream SMP people return to their own server, save Dream himself. Tommy takes Dream to the little forested clearing he knows like the back of his hand by now: the waterfall he’s poured hours and gallons into, the cozy cottage, the library tower which hides his secret underground drug lab.

Tommy considers making Dream a house to live in. It would be spruce and cobble, and match the rest of Tommy’s builds. Tommy’s been meaning to try a trick Bdubs showed him involving trap doors and slabs, anyway.

Instead, Tommy gives Dream a shulker box full of stone bricks, random types of logs, and colored glass, then invites Bdubs and Grian over to help Tommy build a guest cabin, for when people visit him. Dream sits high up in a tree, carving random designs into a shield, and pretends that he isn’t paying attention. Still, once the builders are gone, Dream builds his own house using the advice the two hermits gave to Tommy. It doesn’t match, and it’s awkwardly square. It’s the prettiest thing Dream’s ever built.

Dream mulls over some advice he’d heard Grian depart on Tommy-- maybe he should strip the logs in this bit of his house? He doesn’t realize he’s talking aloud. Tommy tosses an unenchanted iron axe at the ground for Dream to pick up. The speedrunner freezes, recalling the many times Tommy’s given him tools, and the explosions that destroyed said tools. But no, Tommy’s got an enchanted netherite pickaxe in his hand, which he twirls idly as he discusses the pros and cons of stripping the logs on the corner of Dream’s house.

The house Dream builds is just one room. It’s got everything he needs: a bed, a double chest, a crafting table (embedded in the floor for conservation of space), a furnace, and an anvil. He spends more time in Tommy’s house than his own. Tommy’s home has a fireplace, with campfires that softly puff smoke out the chimney; the house has a dedicated bedroom with End rods that glow just enough, and in the main room his things are stored in barrels instead of chests even though it’s less efficient this way. A stonecutter perches itself on a raised trapdoor at waist height, sitting placidly next to some sea pickles. 

Jealousy pricks at Dream’s eyes. He’s so smart, he’s the Manhunt champion, a PvP legend, MCC winner. Why does he feel dumb because he doesn’t know how to make a house look like a home?

The hermits don’t extend any offers of help. He thinks they might be wary of him; yet, whenever he meets their eyes they have nothing but kind smiles for him. Are they trying to trick him or something?

Tommy understands. The hermits know better than to offer to help Dream right now. If Dream is anything like Tommy, he’ll accept the help with suspicions of espionage at best, and outright refuse what he perceives as pity at worst.

Tommy imparts what he’s learned on Dream. The role reversal’s irony is not lost on either of them. Still, Dream swallows his pride and learns how to create depth in a build, what an observer clock is, how to craft all the useless pretty blocks that he’d never bothered with before. Tommy’s painstakingly disinfected his own emotional wounds; the hermits have spent months of trial and error trying to learn how to help him heal. Dream’s a speedrunner, and Tommy’s got the strats. He’d sooner die than say it out loud, but now’s his time to practice what he’s learned and help Dream speedrun getting some fucking therapy-- one semi-ugly build at a time.

[loveletter-anon]

Long post under cut:

Grian - Zorua

Mischievous little scamp. A more fanon compliant part of me wanted to say Chatot, but I like Zorua- it gives those slightly more nefarious but not outright malicious vibes. Also, it can cast illusions to look like other Pokemon, and tell me Grian wouldn't use that opportunity for evil.

Scar - Krokorok

First things first: he's a terraformer, he sells sand, his favorite block is dirt. This guy is a Ground type. Krokorok is also a thief, fitting for a guy who won't stop stealing the enchanting table. I'll admit, a close second for this was Meowscarada. Very different vibes. Krokorok in particular gives the vibes of 3rd Life Scar specifically.

Etho - Absol

Another 3rd Life centric pick. First off, the color scheme. Second, Absol is an omen of destruction, in much the same way that Etho's fame made him intimidating in 3rd Life, despite the fact that neither are too much to worry about. I was also debating giving Absol to Jimmy, for being an omen of disaster.

Tango - Rotom

Nerd. There are a few redstoners in the Life Series, but Tango is the one actively doing the most redstone, so why not give him a techy gadget Pokemon?

Martyn - Scraggy

Nothing much to say other than, yeah, little scamp.

Smajor - Alolan Ninetales

Mentioned him on the FloweredHusbands blog- Alolan Ninetales is blue and elegant. The Ice type fits Scott with his Empires s1 skin, and the idea of wearing your own crystalized emotion as a crown is nothing if not Fairy type.

Pearl - Lycanroc

Doggy! And she's very loyal. Plus, Lycanroc Midnight is the most Scarlet Pearl Pokemon I could think of.

Mumbo - Kriketune

C'mon.

I'm considering making decisions for all the lifers as Pokemon? Perhaps I will at least for the ones I can think up

[starcrossedkaiju]

Kingslayer AU: Chapter Eight

I don’t know what to say other than I like this one. Rendog enjoyers come get your free angst!

Scott filled the pages of his sketchbook gradually at first. He sat at his window and drew what he saw, focusing on putting shapes on the paper. Many times he was unhappy with the finished product, almost ripping out and throwing away his limited space.

He had to learn to be okay with it. The next time it would be a bit better, and a bit better, until the tree he’d been slaving over didn’t look half bad.

Soon his interests turned to drawing his friends. Their faces would pop up on his pages, drowned in eraser smudges at first. Then it became easy. Like second nature, he could memorize Grian’s knowing grin, Jimmy’s downturned eyes, Martyn’s slightly crooked nose.

He drew the way he saw Ren’s piercing yellow eyes that night, the way they were shadowed by his brow.

It felt better. To have a place where his memories could stay exactly the way he saw them. Scott even pinned some up on the wall of his room.

Soon his supply of paper started dwindling, Martyn told him if he needed more drawing paper to come back and ask him for some. So he did, after Jimmy went to bed and the world was quiet under the snow.

Scott made a trip to the Renchanting base, entering through the tunnel hidden under the mountain. It took him right to the storage area. Which was dark and deserted. Only a clock ticked on the wall, everyone else must have been in the sleeping quarters or back at their bases to fend off the Phantoms.

He took a torch from the “stuff chest” and started making rounds, looking at each storage container. Food, Armor, ores, wood, stone, and redstone. Until there was a wall of chests with people’s names on them.

Everyone in the Red Army had a chest, from left to right there was Ren, Martyn, Etho, Skiz, Impulse, Tango, Joel, and then Scott.

The last chest on the right side, Scott’s name was carved on top. It hadn’t been there before. He placed his hand on the lock, wondering if he should even bother opening it. Someone had cared enough to dedicate a space for him to put things. Under the roof of Dogwarts no less.

His torch flickered and Scott decided he’d spent too long lurking around, so he flipped the lock up and quietly opened the chest. Slowly so it wouldn’t creek.

Inside there was a single stack of drawing paper. Hand-sewn like the one Martyn had given him.

Scott placed the torch down and retrieved the paper. He knew it must have been Martyn. A smile found its way onto his face, and he let it stay there. This time, when nobody was looking.

Blowing out the torch and closing the chest, Scott gathered the sketchbook and decided to just leave through the front. It was almost midnight anyways.

Up the stairs and to the double doors of the enchanting room. The book on the table rose from its position and opened towards him as he walked past. Scott still had his hand on the doorknob when he opened it and stepped out into the frigid night.

Of course he didn’t expect to see anything, so when he did see something he froze in place.

In the spot that Martyn would typically occupy, on the very top of the walls sat Ren. His grey cape was bundled around himself to keep out the cold and his pointed ears were pressed low on his head. He was facing away from Scott.

Huddled on the perch, Ren’s shoulders were shaking. Silently, he cried.

Scott stood in the doorway motionless. He couldn’t believe the scene in front of him. Ren wasn’t one to cry. He was calculating and smart, rarely loosing his temper to even the worst of setbacks. A humorous man in charge of an Army of vagabonds, he never cried. He never expressed so much as a single weakness, he couldn’t afford that.

So it really shouldn’t have been a surprise, not really, that the Red King would save his sorrow for when nobody should be looking. Under the loneliest arm of the Milky Way, coldly gazing down on him. The weight of every star in the sky on his shoulders.

It made him look small.

Scott backed away from the door and ran back to the tunnel he came from, the kind of running you do when you are convinced your worst nightmare is snapping at your heels; and maybe for Scott it was.

He sprinted home without looking back. Trying to shove the image of Ren out the back of his mind.

That night he crept quietly back into bed, doing his best not to disturb Jimmy. Who stirred momentarily before simply turning over.

Scott stared at the arm of the Milky Way through the window until he fell into a dreamless sleep.

Days pressed by, Scott slithered too and from the walls of Dogwarts under the noses of his allies and between Spy Ring meetings. The first page of his new sketchbook lay empty, because whenever his pencil hovered above that damn page all he could see was a man huddled up under a galaxy of stars that would never return his wishes.

So when he was called out on night watch to the Renchanting base, Scott snuck out with his empty sketchbook held close to his chest. He arrived to a sleeping base, aware that his shift would be over in an hour and he would get to go home when the next guard showed up.

He yawned and stared out the window, at the stars above the wall. A pencil came to his hand and he started drawing what he saw. The shape of the wall against the glowing sky. He drew it, but it wasn’t right. The image in his mind came back to the front.

A weeping man holding a million stars on his shaking shoulders, the end of his frayed cape flaring out when the breeze kicked up. Tiny compared to the infinite sky. Scott’s fingers and palm turned black with graphite as he crafted the cosmos onto that paper.

His scribbling and smudging consumed all his thoughts as he focused on making the scene perfect, the pencil dulled and threatened to snap under the pressure.

“Major,” a stern voice came from right behind him.

Scott seized up in his chair, a feeling of terror so pure exploded in his chest that his vision left him for a few seconds. He gasped and turned around with his jaw on the floor.

Behind him was Ren. Clad in his winter jacket, a hand on the back of Scott’s chair. He stared directly into the other’s eyes from behind the dark lenses of his aviators. All the color had gone from his face.

Hoping the Red King hadn’t seen what he was drawing, Scott moved his hand to close the book.

It was too late. Ren had been watching him draw for long enough to know.

“You saw me?” Ren asked, but it was phrased more like a fact. It was.

Scott’s hesitation was enough of an answer. He stared up into Ren’s glasses, reminded of a familiar time. This time was different though, and this time Scott wished he could see behind the lenses.

He nodded and tore his eyes away, it felt intrusive to be staring.

“Ren,” Scott said to the floor, but was dismissed.

“No. Just go home. Now,” the other man ordered with a wavering voice.

Scott didn’t nod, he didn’t look at Ren. He gathered the sketchbook and slammed it shut within five seconds.

He didn’t say goodbye as he fled the walls. Scott ran from Ren, and this time he felt bad about it.

Scott didn’t return to Dogwarts for a week after that. Nobody called him to the night shift, nobody asked him to run any supplies. Maybe he was grateful for that, in the sense that he wouldn’t have to look Ren in the eyes again.

Until one night he couldn’t sleep. The clouds cast a dark blanket over the sky. Scott huffed and crawled out of bed, not bothering to change out of his pajamas. He pulled his boots on and took his coat off the hanger.

A walk is what he told himself he was going on, but really he knew where he was going. He didn’t know why, but for some reason Scott had a feeling he wasn’t the only one that couldn’t sleep.

This time instead of entering Dogwarts through the underground he rounded the front, cresting the hill right in front of Big B’s house. Scott scanned the top of the wall and saw what he was looking for. He shoved his hands in his pockets and entered Dogwarts through the front door.

Scott climbed the ladder and balanced himself as he walked over to Ren, who was sitting with his legs dangling over the side of the wall. His jacket was pulled tightly around him. Scott didn’t greet him when he sat down, Ren had seen him coming a mile away.

Ren didn’t look at him, he breathed in heavily, then sighed out a burst of vapor into the cold air.

“You couldn’t sleep?” Scott started the conversation this time.

“Wouldn’t matter if I could. I’m on night watch,” Ren said after a beat of silence.

Scott nodded, turning his head to the dark sky, “it’d be nicer with some stars, hm?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Ren trailed off. He stared at his shoes.

“Okay I’m sorry, I’ll just-“ Scott made to get up and leave but Ren interrupted him.

“No, wait, you can stay,” Ren pulled on the sleeve of Scott’s elbow.

Scott nodded and pulled his knees closer to his chest. A pocket of clouds had moved, creating a window that let the moon gaze upon the Earth.

“Do you stargaze a lot?” Ren asked, this time he looked at Scott.

He wasn’t wearing his sunglasses.

“I try,” Scott replied, “there’s this huge book I found uh, In a village library a while ago. It has everything you can possibly see from down here in it,” he mused.

“Have you ever read one?” Scott asked.

“Uh, an astronomy book?” Ren’s eyes flicked to the left in thought, “I mean I’ve seen them. I haven’t read them. You like astronomy?” he asked.

Scott nodded, then pointed north, into the cloud cover, “you can’t see it now, but Ursa Major would be right over there,” he said.

Ren looked over like he was trying to imagine it, “you like Ursa Major?”

“Easiest to remember,” Scott said plainly.

“I’ll bet. S’ like a namesake,” Ren rested his chin on his palm, “I wish I had a constellation with my name,” his ear twitched on his head.

Scott’s metaphorical ears perked up, “Oh well, there’s one kind of like that,” he said. Ren’s actual ears perked up.

“It’s called Canis Major. It means Great Dog, or Big Dog,” Scott pointed south, “it will always be easy to see on a clear day. One of its stars is called Sirius,” he explained.

Ren nodded, “I’m familiar. Brightest in the sky, right?”

“Yeah. That’s right,” Scott replied.

“Canis Major huh?” Ren repeated. Scott nodded.

“Canis Major, and,” he looked over at Scott, “Scott Major,” Ren nudged the other on the shoulder.

“Right,” Scott said, and suddenly the sky didn’t feel so heavy anymore.

Not when you have a friend to share it with.

[nexahexagon]

My new Grian design cuz why not

[12u3ie]

Furious Cocktail AU Masterpost

This is an AU created by the Hermitcraft Headcanons Discord, so a big thanks to them!

At its most basic, Furious Cocktail is an AU where the Hermits drink a specific potion mix, die, and then can get powers. The potion combo is random and different for each player. The powers are based off of how they die, with a bit of the potions' effects added in. If a Hermit dies a second time with a correct potion combo, their code will be locked (in terms of powers) and will not be able to get any more powers.

(Hermits and powers under the cut)

Powered Hermits so far:

(These are not necessarily listed in the order they got their powers)

Zedaph

Was the first hermit to realize he had powers

Died in the Void (death was intentional, powers were an accident)

Feel asleep for three days, waking up to a very concerned Impulse and Tango

A couple days later, he realized he had powers

Powers

Telekinesis

Power draining

Locked powers are immune to this

Can blind other players

Teleporting things in and out of the Void

A bit of Void resistance

Eyes glow black when powers are in use

Tango

Zed told him about the powers

Died to a witch (accident)

Like most other hermits, he was a bit tired but didn’t really notice

Powers

Can inflict small amounts of potion effects through his hands

This extends to tipped arrows as well

Can temporarily enchant items  

Eyes glow like an enchanted item when powers are in use

Can eat blaze rods (not extremely relevant, but interesting to note)

Impulse

Finds out about the powers by accident, through Zed

By this point, Team ZIT have figured out how to get powers on purpose

Died to a shulker (on purpose)

Powers

More inventory (does not disappear on death)

Levitation

Shield he can bring up, but cannot move once brought up

Teleportation (not easily controlled)

Sparkles like shulker bullets/end rods when powers are in use

Etho

Learned about the powers through Tango

Died by fireworks (on purpose)

Powers

Throwing colorful explosions (ranged attack)

Flying without elytra

Blast resistance

Explode blocks (takes a lot of energy)

Firework particles when powers are in use

Ended up locking his code trying to get more powers

Doc

Learned about the powers through Etho

Died to a lightning bolt (on purpose)

Powers

Lightning (smaller shocks or larger bolts)

Weather prediction and lightning directing

Glows like a charged creeper when powers are in use

Grian

Didn’t know about the powers beforehand, but saw Impulse experimenting with potions and decided to drink one

He later goes to Impulse, who explains

Died by kinetic energy (accident)

Powers

Flight boost/agility

Resistance (at least to kinetic energy/fall damage)

Pushing kinetic energy outwards (super jump, ravager-esque knockback)

Super/increased speed

Little feather particles when his powers are in use

Cub

At a certain point, most of the server knows about the potion powers

Tries to die by Elder Guardian, but ends up drowning (accident)

Powers

Waterbending

Water breathing

Moves faster underwater

Bubble particles when powers are in use

Bdubs

Died by [Intentional Game Design] (on purpose)

Powers

Control of the day-night cycle (not changing the rate at which time passes; just skipping to day/night)

Can explode without killing himself

Eyes glow like an explosion, fiery red and orange, when powers are in use

TinFoilChef

Died by gravel (accident)

Powers

Stone manipulation (includes stone variants; basically an earthbender)

Block burrowing

Gravelly/floating block particles when powers are in use

Joe Hills

Tries to get powers from Cleo, but ends up dying to the diamond sword (deaths via players don’t give powers) (accident)

Powers

Controlling diamonds (summoning from the ground, manipulating diamond items like armor)

Enchantments that were on the sword (fire aspect, sharpness, looting (basically luck), mending)

Cold blue glow, like a cross between diamonds and enchantments, when powers are in use

Stress

Died by berry bushes (on purpose)

Powers

Plant growth/control

Can tame foxes

Particles like leaves/petals when powers are in use

Jellie

Not technically a player herself, she got powers via Etho’s experimenting

Before the events of this AU, Scar begged Xisuma to give Jellie semi-player status. He eventually did

Died to an enderman (on purpose?)

Powers

Teleporting wherever she likes

Can pick up blocks (levitation-like)

Can make enderman noises

Enderman particles and purple glowing eyes when powers are in use

Xisuma

Did not want powers at all, thinking they were far too dangerous

Powers permanently mess with the player’s code, and X wants none of that

Does get powers though, via an Evil Xisuma “prank”

When Xisuma realized he has powers, he has a bit of a crisis

Died from the Ender Dragon (technically on purpose)

Powers

Dragon’s breath

Haste/instamine

Levitation/flight

Regeneration by end crystals

Immunity to most enchants/effects (minus sharpness and power)

Purple eyes, that glow when his power is in use

(Almost) never uses his powers, even when beneficial

Scar

Technically the first hermit to get powers, but mistook them for wizard abilities

Only realizes once many other hermits have powers that he does too

Died by kinetic energy, flying into an enchanting table (accident)

Powers

Flight (not as strong as Grian’s ability)

Permanently enchanting items (as opposed to Tango’s temporary enchants)

Galactic particles (like an enchantment table) when powers are in use

Wels

Returns to the server, learning about the powers from Xisuma

Tries to get powers, then stops, thinking that he dodged a bullet

He did actually get powers though, getting them by a slime (technically on purpose)

He freaks out the first time he uses his powers, and like Xisuma, has a bit of a crisis about it

Powers

Splitting/cloning (maximum of four total Welses)

More strength during full moons

Reduced fall damage

Increased jump height

Body glows green when splitting

Hels

Died by a magma cube (on purpose)

Powers

Splitting/cloning (maximum of four total Helses)

Reduced fall damage

Increased jump height

Body glows red when splitting

Evil Xisuma

Before giving Xisuma powers, gives himself powers

Died by the Wither (on purpose)

Powers

Withering touch

Flight

Shoots wither skulls from his hands

Black particles when powers are in use

Vintage Beef

Died by a llama (on purpose)

Powers

More inventory (does disappear on death)

Speed boost

Carpet makes his armor fancy

Particles like llama spit when powers are in use

Keralis

Tries to get powers at random, drinking potion combos and seeing what kills him

Dies by a pillager (on purpose accident?)

Powers

Illagers don’t attack him (semi-applies to witches)

Can summon a banner of his face

Perfect aim, but only with crossbows

Can locate woodland mansions and pillager outposts

Can ride ravagers

---

This is the hermits who have powers so far in this AU. This list may and likely will be expanded over time, as more hermits get powers.

There are also quite a few stories about this AU. This masterpost is just the general concept and current powered hermits, and does not go into the specifics of certain situations. The stories (that are on Ao3) can be found here.

The timeline itself can be a bit complicated, so another post/reblog of this post may be made of it at some point.

Any questions about this AU can be answered by me or @mleemwyvern 

[votederpycausemufins]

Alright, another chapter for my fic with Jrum. Just so you know, we’ve got a hels hermit and uh... his personality is Horny(TM). nothing to get it out of a teen rating, but there is some non consensual touching at one point so i’m giving a warning.

Rustic House Club

Jrum was set down on a counter before NPG left again, saving there was something to grab. The younger bot waited there for a little bit before getting bored and jumping down from the counter to explore the place. Jrum was pretty sure this was NPG’s base. It seemed to be a giant rustic house or mansion or something. The wood and stone were unfamiliar, but that being said, the world outside was also strange, covered with mint green grass and dirt that was a grayish blue. The sky looked mostly normal, though it was littered with multicolored clouds. 

Back inside, in the center of the room was a giant campfire surrounded by some reddish brown stone. There was also an enchanting table setup with bookshelves around it, but some of the shelves were made with a dull colored wood, and some were made with the stone like what made up the walls.

A sound just behind Jrum made him jump and whirl around, only to see what looked like a very fluffy bunny hopping around. It was a nice powder blue color, and whenever it jumped, what looked like a small puff of smoke was left behind before fading. 

“H-Hi. You’re n-not a bad bunny, a-are you?” Jrum nervously asked the hopping creature. “B-Because my dad d-doesn’t like bad b-bunnies.” The bunny responded by hopping and landing on top of Jrum’s head and flopping down there to rest. “H-Hey! That tickles!”

Jrum carefully grabbed the animal to put it back on the ground. He smiled as he felt that it was indeed extremely fluff as well as feeling rather soft. Once the bunny was back on the ground, it went hopping about the room again, letting Jrum explore the house more. There were a number of shulker boxes strewn about which seemed to be filled with items, but for the most part the items weren’t ones that Jrum recognized. Like what was a moa? Or an ambrosium shard?

Jrum shook his head as he stopped looking in the boxes before turning his head to some armor stands nearby. One had an elytra resting on it, while the other didn’t have an elytra or chestplate. Other than that, the first stand had some sort of purple armor while the other was a pinkish color.

The last thing Jrum really noticed was a ladder going up to the next floor, but he didn’t get the chance to go upstairs before NPG returned, carrying what sort of resembled his charger. “I’m back!”

Jrum scrambled his way back to the counter and sat on it, hoping NPG hadn’t seen he wasn’t there. “Sorry for the wait. This thing is just hard to carry and Sense wouldn’t come here to build it because he thinks it’s crazy to live in a dangerous place like the aether.”

The bunny from before hopped over and onto NPG’s head. “Oh! Hi Rusty! Did you meet our guest? He’s my brother.”

“Your bunny’s name is Rusty?”

“Yup!” NPG set the charger down near where Jrum was sitting. “Hmm, I’m sure you’ll want somewhere to sleep, so I’ll have to make you a bed later. Because trying to get that thing up a ladder would be no fun.”

Jrum looked at the pinkish armor that NPG was wearing. “What’s that?”

“Hmm?” NPG looked where Jrum was pointing. “Oh! This is some aetherite armor. It’s like netherite, but for here!”

Jrum nodded, then just sat quietly, swinging his legs. NPG was also quiet, just sort of smiling and swinging his arms about before there was a buzz. The older robot reached for his pocket and pulled out what looked like a communicator, though it was a different style, and read a message on it.

“Oh good! Prof says we can meet with him!”

Jrum tilted his head. “Who’s that?”

“That’s right! I haven’t explained things yet!” NPG exclaimed before putting his comm away again. “Okay, so we’re in Helscraft! It’s like where you’re from, but opposite. Our overworld is more like the nether, but not entirely. More like… hmm… if instead of dirt, mycelium and nylium were normal, and then instead of normal trees we get those giant mushroom things that still can be used for wood. The aether is like an opposite nether in that it’s cold here and there’s no bedrock at either edge of the world. And then finally the end in our world is probably the closest to being normal, but there’s no ender dragon. Instead there’s this thing called the warden and it’s really dangerous.”

“Oh… but who’s Proff?”

“Oh right! So here instead of hermits there are helsmits! And just about everyone in Hermitcraft has a sort of… not really opposite, but at the very least alternative version of themselves down here! Prof is one of them. He’s our version of Doc.”

“Who was the person that looked like daddy?” Jrum asked. He knew NPG had said something, but he hadn’t fully been paying attention.

“Oh! That was Perfect Sense. Most people just call him Sense.”

“Who else is there?”

NPG’s eyes lit up, happy to explain for his brother. “Okay, so there’s Xannes who’s our admin. Most people don’t use his name though, which is rude. Instead they say stuff like Evil Xisuma, Evil X or just EX. There’s True Symmetry who’s the current emperor, or I guess empress, of the server. Her running mate was Waltzware, who everyone calls Whiskey. Fun story about that, I can tell you it another time. Uh, he’s in a rivalry with DelayVS and Phedaz. There’s BadtimeswithScar, or just Badtimes. He has a place on the overworld with a big magic crystal in it which is where I go to hang out with you. It’s a little hard to get to sometimes with Peanut guarding the place. Helsknight has been around the longest and-”

“Um, so are you the opposite of my dad?” Jrum asked, cutting his brother off.

“Nope! Not really! That’s Grifter. See, I showed up sort of near the end of season three and he appeared when we moved to season four. I’m pretty sure he was a Listener or something, but anyway he didn’t like me since he thought I was taking his place. When Prof made Base Iridium, it was so he could lock up Grifter because he was like... the worst person. And so he’s been stuck there ever since and I get to stay because they all like me better!”

Jrum nodded. “Okay, and then do Grum and I have copies here?”

NPG stopped smiling at the question. “Well… no. Glodhet made Sense run for emperor, but Since Glodhet was LaxSprite’s running mate, Sense didn’t have anyone as his running mate. I tried, but he said no. Because of that, we never built any versions of you.”

Jrum looked down at the floor sadly. Sure NPG was a great friend, but he and his brother were really the only kids on the server, so it was pretty lonely a lot of the time.

“Um, well, do you want to go and see Prof?”

Jrum nodded and NPG picked him up before going to the portal he had outside. Jrum shivered when they walked outside, the air extremely cold. That definitely was opposite to the nether. It also didn’t help that it seemed to be night out, which made it even colder. “Isn’t the neth- uh, aether faster?”

“Yeah, but with its day and night cycles, it’s really dangerous at night and you don’t really have any gear I don’t think. Besides, Prof isn’t that far away from the other side of my portal.”

“O-Okay.”

Grian and Mumbo spawned in Helscraft right next to each other. They spawned on a small island that was half made of mycelium, half on fire. Grian was a little worried about the fact that Xisuma didn’t seem to be with them, but that was probably fine? Maybe he had been there before and when spawning in, he appeared there instead.

There seemed to be some sort of water around the island, but it didn’t quite look right as it was a bright red color. Grian carefully plucked a wing and dipped it into the water. It didn’t get burnt or damaged or anything, so that was a good sign.

Mumbo looked in a chest on the island and found it filled with boats. The wood seemed to be slightly pink, like a slightly more colorful jungle boat. He placed it into the water and got in, Grian climbing in behind him. “Well, while everything looks different in color, that island seems to be like the spawn island back home, and that out there looks like the shopping district.”

Grian looked into the distance. “Yeah, though it doesn’t look quite as populated as the one on Hermitcraft. I-Is that a giant blackstone castle?”

Mumbo squinted his eyes, looking back towards the larger island. It was a little hard to tell because it was against a black sky with few stars in sight, but Mumbo could make out what seemed to be the outline of a castle. “I’m guessing they have the same sort of starting seed, but they build whatever they want and it doesn’t match what we do.”

Grian agreed, and then Mumbo paddled them to the island. When they reached the shore, Mumbo got out first and then held a hand out to help Grian. 

“Since I can fly, I’ll look at this place from above. You check on foot. Does that sound good?” Grian asked, getting a nod from Mumbo. “Great, let’s go.”

True groaned as the sunlight was blocked for a moment. Even with her sunglasses on and her eyes closed, she could tell when the light didn’t reach her closed eyes for a moment. Her best guess was someone decided to try and annoy her again by building something to fly in just the right place to annoy her, something that had happened more than once before. She moved her glasses to her forehead and set down the glass of wine she had been sipping from before walking to the edge of her sunbathing balcony and looking below to see who exactly was messing with her.

She groaned when she was Sense walking in the paths below. Of course it would be the resident evil genius causing trouble. And then as the light was blocked again, she turned her gaze skyward to see what exactly he had made this time. True expected some sort of redstone machine to be moving around up there, Sense trying to control it from below and put it in the right place. What she didn’t expect was for the thing in the air to be a person, specifically one with wings, not elytra, on their back.

Immediately True was rushing back into the castle. This was not happening. “WHISKEY!” She shouted at the top of her lungs. “STOP WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU’RE DOING AND CALL PROF! SENSE FINALLY FUCKING DID IT!” She heard some sort of response but didn’t really pay attention as she grabbed the armor and weapons she left inside. As soon as it was all re-equipped, she went back onto the balcony and scoured the skies.

It was easy to spot the avian in the sky, having gotten closer if anything. True drew her bow and aimed at the moving target, trying to follow his path. Then when she was sure her aim was right, she fired the arrow, watching it sail in the air.

Mumbo had been looking in every building he had come across, which had been harder than it sounded since the land of the island was damaged beyond belief. Rubble was everywhere and creeper holes littered the terrain. He kept looking up at Grian, hoping he would find something so that he wouldn’t need to bother with the buildings.

The redstoner was just climbing out of another building through the mostly blocked up door when he looked up in the sky. Grian was still flying, but he watched as one moment an arrow hit the avian and the next he was covered in fire and falling to the ground. Immediately Mumbo started running in Grian’s direction. 

A few minutes before, Grian had finished looking at yet another section of the island from overhead and turned around to view the next one. He was so focused on the ground below, he wasn’t paying attention to the airspace around him until suddenly an arrow struck his wing. Fire from the arrow spread to his wings and the rest of his body, making it feel even worse. 

Grian tried to flap his wings and move towards the water. He wasn’t sure what that stuff was, but he hoped it would put him out. The problem was that the arrow had hit his wing in just the right place that even twitching it slightly felt like agony. And since he only had use of one of his wings, the avian started plummeting to the ground. He at the very least managed to twist his body so that way his wings were below him so that the feathers helped soften his fall.

“Don’t worry. I got you Gri.” Grian heard Mumbo say and a moment later he could hear a bucket of water get spilled out, dousing the fire that was covering his body.

“Th-Thanks. Ow that hurt.” Grian thanked Mumbo and stood up to brush himself off. “I didn’t even notice that- mmph!” Grian was cut off as suddenly Mumbo’s lips met his in a kiss. His eyes widened in shock, especially as Mumbo tried to deepen the kiss. At that point Grian pushed him away. “Wh-What?!”

“Sorry. Just been a while. And with that just happened…” Mumbo gave a half smile. Grian sort of knew where he was coming from, but this hardly seemed like something to warrant a kiss like that. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks for the water. Won’t be able to fly for a bit though. I got shot right in the wing and even potions are going to have trouble with that.”

“Well I can help you with that later. That arrow came from the castle, so we should be careful about any more from there.”

Grian nodded, but then paused. If anyone was going to be shooting at him, it might be because they didn’t want him getting to Jrum. And if that were the case, then Jrum was in the castle. “Well then we should be going to the castle, right?”

Mumbo smiled. “Of course. Lead the way.” Mumbo gestured towards the castle and Grian rushed off, not hearing the words that were added on at the end. “My dear.”

Mumbo followed along behind Grian, heading towards the castle. He didn’t bother picking up the water that had been placed down. Who would care about that? In fact, he even threw the bucket behind him, not watching where it landed.

The bucket sailed through the air before finally landing with a thunk. Mumbo rubbed his head, glad that the item had been empty. “Who would throw an empty bucket?” He asked no one in particular before finally getting to the top of the hill. Sitting there was a water source,  likely from the bucket. This should have been where Grian landed, but the avian was nowhere in sight. “I didn’t realize he had a bucket of water on him.” He then realized it was red instead. “Wait, this is water from here… Who placed this?”

Mumbo continued to look at the surrounding terrain and noticed the water had made the surrounding mycelium a bit muddy. There seemed to be two sets of footprints, and in one print, a feather had been stepped on. Said feather was a bright red, which could only belong to one person. Mumbo’s eyes followed the prints, watching as they went towards the castle. If Grian was anywhere, he would be there, so he started walking in that direction.

Grian raised an eyebrow as Mumbo held his hand, but he supposed it made sense with what just happened and them going into a dangerous area. They carefully walked through the halls of the castle, checking every room. So far there was no sign of Jrum, but there weren’t even signs of anyone. But then they were turning down one hallway and ran into someone who looked like Tango, except his skin was a lavender color, his hair even darker than Mumbo’s and his eyes glowing purple rather than red.

“It was easier to find you two than I thought.” The not Tango spoke, pulling out an axe of some sort of pink colored metal. He ran towards Grian and Mumbo, ready to attack, but then Mumbo pulled out a piece of TNT. Immediately not Tango stopped in his tracks, and then Mumbo was pulling Grian another direction, placing the TNT down and causing not Tango to scream.

“How’d you know that would work?” Grian asked as they ran.

“Didn’t, just had a slight hunch.” Mumbo replied. “Let’s go up those stairs.” And Grian looked over where Mumbo pointed, the two of them then turning to go that way.

Behind them, the not Tango tried to find another path. He didn’t get far though before running into Mumbo. In an instant the axe was out in front of him, ready to attack. “Gah! Don’t take a step closer or-” Not Tango looked around, surprised to not see Grian. “Where’d the bird go?”

“You saw him? Which way did he go?”

“You two already got separated? That’s so unlike you.” Not Tango answered. Mumbo looked away from the helsmit, who took the opportunity to attack. The redstoner noticed just in time and was able to dodge the attack, running to dive behind the block of TNT nearby. It obviously wasn’t the safest place, but it was still cover. One that happened to repel the not Tango, who freaked out at the block.

When Grian reached the top of the stairs with Mumbo, the redstoner pulled the two of them into a nearby room. It was thankfully empty, and Grian watched as Mumbo locked the door behind them. “Well, they know we’re here now. It would probably be good to deal with your wing, hmm?”

Grian nodded. “Yeah, it would be good to do that so I’m not hindered at all. We’ll probably need all the help we can get with this.”

Mumbo came over to Grian as he was busy climbing onto the table in the room so that Mumbo had a better platform to treat him on. Just as he was settling down, ready to shift his wings back into existence, Mumbo grabbed him from behind, the redstoner’s mouth suddenly on his neck. Grian gasped, not sure how to react, and before he could do anything, Mumbo was off him again, leaving a purplish-red mark on Grian’s neck.

Grian turned to face Mumbo, only to be kissed again. Grian wanted to complain, but Mumbo’s hand found the sweet spot on his back, right between his shoulder blades, and Grian couldn’t help but melt into the redstoner’s arms.

Mumbo panted as he reached the top of the stairs, having been chased by someone that almost looked like Zedaph. He had been cornered and nearly killed, but then the not Tango showed up and the two of them started fighting each other instead. Mumbo used the opening to run, getting up to the next floor. At the top of the steps, he thought about just standing there a bit longer to catch his breath, but then he heard what sounded like Grian behind a nearby door. 

It sounded like he might have been hurt, so the redstoner rushed to the door and tried to open it, only to find it locked. Another noise from inside worried Mumbo, and he immediately had a pickaxe in his hand and broke down the metal door. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but it wasn’t this. In front of him was himself and Grian. The avian was sitting on a table as he kissed him, hands working on pulling the red sweater off. “What in the world?!”

Grian opened his eyes when Mumbo spoke, looking to see what the problem was. They then widened to the point they were practically bulging out of his skull as he saw Mumbo in the doorway as Mumbo was also currently kissing him.

Grian pushed Mumbo, the one kissing him, away so he could say something. “Mumbo?!”

The Mumbo who had been kissing Grian turned around to see the second version of him in the doorway before looking back at Grian. “Wait. You’re not Grifter.”

“Uh, no. I’m Grian? W-Which one of you is Mumbo?”

“I am!” Mumbo spoke up, attempting to go to Grian’s side, but his hels counterpart stopped him.

“And I’m Sense. Are you sure you’re Grian though? Because your body is just the same as I remember Grifter having~. The same soft lips and strong muscles. And I’m sure you have the same-”

Grian felt Sense’s hand start to move down his back as he spoke, so the avian shoved him away. “Nope! We are not doing this! Absolutely not!”

Sense pouted and gave a huff. “Fine, then what are you doing here?”

“We’re here looking for our son.” Mumbo replied. “I’m guessing since you didn’t realize this was Grian, you haven’t seen him.”

“What would that have to do with it?” Sense replied. “Though didn’t realize he was your son too. Anyway, of course I’ve seen him.” When Grian opened his mouth, Sense stopped him by continuing. “Oh, but I won’t be telling you anything just like that. I need something out of it.”

“Oh ew no!” Grian replied, moving behind Mumbo.

“Oh please, I wouldn’t want that. Okay maybe if you were offering… but no, if you can get here from your little Hermitcraft world, you might be able to get to the last season of Helscraft.”

“And why would you want that?” Mumbo asked.

“Grifter got left behind, and none of us can go back there ourselves. I mean, there are a few here who can, but no one who’s willing to actually free Grifter.”

“I’m afraid we can’t either. Xisuma’s the one who brought Grian and I here. And I doubt he would want to send us anywhere else.”

Sense scoffed in irritation. “Fine, then I have one other option, but you’ll need to help me out Grian.”

Grian winced, clinging tighter to Mumbo. “Wh-What do you want?”

“I’m really a fan at how True is running this place. I would have loved to be emperor, but without Grifter, I didn’t have a chance. However, if you’re with me, I can make a bluff for the throne.”

Grian hesitated, weighing his options. Finally, he sighed. “Okay. Fine.”

“Grian, you don’t have to say yes.”

“If it’ll help us find him, I’m going to do it.” Grian stopped hiding behind Mumbo. “I’m in. Just as long as any contact from you stays above the waist!”

Sense frowned at that. “Really? Because-”

“Touch anything below that, and you won’t have hands to try again with.”

“Alright, alright. I won’t!” Sense replied, actually smiling slightly. “In fact and attitude like that should help sell it. Now let’s go find True. I’d stay in here if I were you Mumbo. Wouldn’t want you ruining things and not be able to get that information.”

Mumbo wanted to argue, but Sense was already out of the room dragging Grian behind, leaving the hermit to find a place to sit and wait.

“There you go. Th-Those wings should work fine for you.” A pig hybrid spoke, putting down a clipboard.

NPG helped Jrum down from the examination table he had been sitting on. “Thanks Prof! Let’s go test them out Jrum!”

“O-Oh, by the way, you two should be careful out there.” Prof stopped the brothers before they could leave. “I g-got a message from True. A-Apparently she saw Grifter. I would th-think she mistook you for him again… e-except you’ve obviously here.”

“Oh! Then I suppose we will need to be very careful as we attempt to fly.” NPG replied, starting to leave again, but this time Jrum stopped him.

“Um, NPG? How long have I been here exactly?”

“Hmmm… Maybe half a day? Not too long.”

“But I was out for a while trying to get to that place in the nether… So I’ve been gone longer than that. Maybe that’s not the Grifter person, but maybe that’s my dad looking for me?”

“Oh! That’s probably it! Even more of a reason to try flying! So we can go over to the castle and see if that’s him!”

“Well i-if you’re going to do that, stay safe.” Prof smiled and waved goodbye to the two robots before going back to his other work. “Hmm… l-looks like Xannes is trying some new scheme. G-Guess I’ll have to go over there now to stop him.”

Xisuma woke up with a literal jolt as something shocked his arm. He tried to move to see what it was, only to find himself unable to move anything, being tied down to a chair. “Mind telling me why you brought Grifter here?” A deep voice spoke, one X was very familiar with.

“Evil X? Where am I?” Xisuma tried to turn his head around even a little to see where his brother was.

“You happen to be in my base. I coded in something so that you would be brought here if you ever came to Helscraft. I never expected it would actually be used. But right now I’m very grateful for it.” Now Evil X walked into Xisuma’s line of sight. He was surprised to see that his brother wasn’t wearing a helmet, then noticing that he himself wasn’t wearing one either. “Where’s my helmet?”

“Oh you don’t need that. I know it helps you access all your fun little admin powers like mine gives me my hacks. The air here is breathable so you don’t need to worry about that and we can have a nice little chat. Now. Why did you bring Grifter here?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Evil X smacked Xisuma with a shovel. “Wrong answer, try again.”

“No, I’m serious. I don’t know what you mean. I came here with two of my Hermits, that’s all!”

“You? Bringing hermits with you? Why?”

“Someone from here kidnapped one of their sons.”

Evil X cursed. “You brought Grian and Mumbo. That’s not going to end well. NPG’s got the kid so I have a clue of where he might be. The question is how fast we can find them.”

“Who’s NPG? And you still haven’t explained about ‘Grifter’.”

“NPG is the closest thing we have to Grian here. Technically, that title would go to Grifter, but none of us can deal with him. We locked him up and left him behind in our old world. Look me in the eyes brother.” Evil X stared at Xisuma, waiting until the hermit was looking back. “I want to destroy your server. I want it to burn to the ground. I wouldn’t mind if all your hermits died and couldn’t… well okay, maybe just had trouble respawning. We grief and steal and have actual wars here. But I would never, not in a million years, ever want you to deal with Grifter. That’s how bad he is. And right now, it seems like the others here think Grian is.”

Xisuma immediately tried to stand up, only finding himself struggling in his bindings. “Then we need to stop that.”

“No, we don’t need to do anything. This is my server, I’m dealing with it.” Evil X started to walk away, but Xisuma heard him stop walking for a moment. “Plus, I wouldn’t mind having you own me in the long run.”

[writing-the-end]

LoL Chapter 10- Danes

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU belongs to @theguardiansofredland )

Welcome to Danes, the valley of the Guild of Asklepion. The healers are under attack, and call upon the help of the hermits- legal or not, they’re the last hope to help a massacred guild. 

__________________________________________

Down in the peaceful valley, tucked in the quiet hills of central Lairyon, a fire raged and roared. Flames burn like dragon tongues, lashing across the wooden stables and grass covered roofs, marigold petals curling and wilting from the sheer heat of the destruction. 

“Are we too late to help the Asklepions?” Ren whimpers, red light mirroring off his tinted sunglasses. His tail tucks between his legs, ears folding back as an ifrit squabbles across the verdant grass plains. The stout monster leaves a trail of fire in its wake, black husked form like smoke rising from the angry fire. 

A shrill cry, and a loud crack makes the entire guild jump. From the flames, a massive branch whacks the fire monster. Enough strength to send the husked remains of the ifrit crashing into the strong base of an oak tree. The husk falls apart upon impact, like a snowball struck against a hard surface. 

From behind the branch wielding wizard, a kipling stumbles over his feet and opens his arms wide. Water sprays across the fire, dousing the flame. Smoke roils free, masking the damage to its fullest extent. At least, what’s visible to the hermits on the hill. But they can see that the fire is only the latest damage dealt to the healing guild’s peaceful complex, Danes. A quiet monastery for recovery and recuperation needs it’s own bones fixed. 

The woman with the tree branch, white dress fluttering in the wind as a white flag, locks eyes with the hermits. Even from such a distance, the hermits can see her anger cross the healer’s face and her weapon rise up. The kipling grabs her arm, pulling it down and pointing at the group. False leans on her claymore. “Should we maybe go down there and not stare?” 

Through the plain of wildflowers and grasses, the hermits arrive at the smoldering remains of the retreat. “Who are you and why are you here?” The woman with the branch growls, raising the weapon above her springy black hair. “Are you the ones who keep sending these shadow monsters?” 

“Well that’s rude.” Etho grumbles, crossing his arms. Those aren’t shadow monsters. Shadow monsters are pretty chill, in his opinion. 

“No, no it’s not us.” TFC steps back, alarmed by the amount of harm the healing mage did to that ifrit. For a guild that pledges an oath to heal, she definitely did a lot of damage to the husk. 

“These are the people Galena sent the message to.” The Kipling waves to the group. “That little boat I had to send all the way to the ocean?” 

“A little late, but better late than never. I’m Iris, come on, we need to get inside before another patrol notices us.” Iris tosses her branch to the side. 

“I’m Micha, I’m so glad you got our letter.” He offers the first smile the hermits have had since they arrived, something lacking in such a once peaceful and tranquil place. 

“What happened here?” Grian questions, fluttering over the other hermits to talk. He feels like he should be in on this- he is the guild’s only healer. 

“It was our second attack today. Lucky for us, the only real trouble was that ifrit.” Micha responds, running a hand over the charred wood of a collapsed building. The grassy green roof has fallen to the side, slanting upwards like a sudden hill. It was burnt, but not in any way that would have knocked it over. 

“Nothing about this is lucky.” Iris growls. “We’ve been attacked for the past week by irrational, strong, ash grey monsters. They destroyed our infirmary, ruined the gardens and healing runes. And worse of all, we had to break our oath. We’re healers, not fighters.” 

“Well, lucky for you, we’re a jack-of-all-trades kind of guild.” TFC hums, stooping low and picking up the remains of a runestone, the carved mark shattered but a curve and a line visible. 

“How did your guildmaster know about us?” Grian questions, looking more to Micha than Iris. He knows when to push boundaries, and when someone is best left alone. Something he’s learned the hard way. 

Micha shrugs. “I’m not sure, but Galena wanted only you...who are you people?” Micha tilts his head, wavy blue hair cascading off his shoulders. 

“We’re the Order of Hermits!” Grian cheers, proud of his guild, his family. 

But Doc knows that doesn’t answer Micha’s question. “We’ve faced these husks before. I don’t know how your guildmaster learned of us, but we can handle this kind of threat.” 

“You’ve seen this before?” Iris turns, suddenly intrigued by the group. “How? Why? Did they attack your complex as well?” 

The entire guild goes quiet, looking at any other place than the woman before them. Eyes falling on the burned and broken buildings, weapons and corpses scattered about. Flakes of husks still swirl among the ash and charred homes. Cleo growls, the silence killing her all over again. “We were contracted by Magistrate Dolios, to investigate a town that was having issues. When we went there, we found the entire place was dead of life, like all color and energy was sucked from the ground.” 

Iris tilts her head back. “That’s definitely not what’s happening here. Apart from the burnt buildings, everything here is still green and alive.” 

“You haven’t seen a creepy, adamantine crystal that sucks life up and attacks with spooky black mist?” Joe scribbles notes in his journal, the feather tip of his quill wiggling back and forth at his furious writing. Iris draws a perturbed stare at the poet wizard, and that’s all the answer he needs. 

“But there were people there. Or, what remains of what we can only call husks of people. Ashen, grey and flaky. Like that ifrit. They attacked us for no reason.” Cleo adds, catching Iris back on their story. 

“So...how’d you stop them?” Micha questions, motioning for them to continue to follow towards the guild hall. 

“We...didn’t really.” Cub rubs his neck, biting his lip. “We were outmatched, we didn’t know what to do at the time. I portaled them away, and we escaped.” 

“You survived, that’s what matters.” Micha soothes, brushing the white toga he wears, reminding himself and the disgruntled Iris of their position as healers. “What did magistrate Dolios do when you told him what you saw?” 

“Nothing. He sent us away, and did nothing. He didn’t even pay us.” Iskall hisses. “What a mega douche.” 

“That’s an understatement.” A shaken, elderly voice rises above Micha and the creaking noise of their guild halls opening. “At least you answered my plea for help.” 

The guild turns, peering into the dark halls. Across the overturned chairs and broken chandeliers, past the tables turned hospital beds. But the guildmaster is regal, even in her worst hours. Wisened eyes and a kind, wrinkled face is framed by silver hair. The old woman rises from her chair, her movement surprisingly agile despite her age. Fingers curl around her staff, the gemstone at the peak glowing as she moves. TFC recognizes the crystal as labradorite- an enchanted staff. Clever. 

“You spoke with the Council as well?” Xisuma tilts his head. She doesn’t look like she can walk from her bed to the bathroom without help, much less all the way to Milliara. 

“When these ‘husk’ attacks all started, we were hundreds strong.” Galena motions her staff to the expansive guild hall. “The Asklepions are masters of healing, many of us hailing from the great schools of Edenswell. As you can see now, there is hardly more than a dozen of us left, and no amount of pandering or begging can get the council to aid us.” 

“They wouldn’t help a healing guild?” Grian frowns, pouting with his arms crossed.

“They wouldn’t help a legal guild?” Doc raises his eyebrows.

“You guys aren’t legal?!” Iris squawks, shushed by Micha. She’s left to grumble, stalking off into the dredges of the guild hall. 

“I first went to the council. Magistrate Dolios turned down my request, the bastard.” Her thin lips curl, pleased to say such a dirty word. “I went to the Council guilds, each and every one of them. The same answer. There was only one person who could help us, one person above even the Council.” 

“King Sor.” Stress whispers. 

“Smart girl. Most don’t remember a time when the crown had a say in the nation’s dealings. Not since Dolios rose to power.” Galena nods her head slowly. “I went to King Sor, begged for him to help.” 

“And he said no as well?” Etho takes an educated guess, seeing the disaster the Asklepions are in now. 

“He said yes. Such a kind young man, a good king. Only wants the best for his people. King Sor expressed concern, fear for us. He wanted to help.” 

“So why didn’t he?” TFC tilts his head. The king could have easily sent the entire arcane guard to put an end to all of this.

“When the young king expressed his concern about these husk attacks, the entire throne room was swarmed with the Arcane guard- not the royal guard. They ushered King Sor from the hall, and promptly arrested his advisor, Tristea.” Galena closes her eyes, breath shaking across wrinkles. “I have never seen such fear in a person’s eyes than what I saw in Sormena’s eyes, I swear I saw his hair turn a mix of blue, purple, and copper.” 

The hermits share furrowed, concerned expressions mirrored across all their faces. Mumbo and Stress glance at each other, mouthing the name of their king. Who they both remember when he was just a prince. They both attended his coronation, what felt like a whole different life ago. Sor was always concerned about others, but he wasn’t afraid to speak his mind. This Sor Gelana speaks of is nothing like the one they knew. 

“So you’ve been fighting the husks all on your own? No arcane guards? Just…” Doc motions around at the destroyed guild hall. The last bastion to the dozen or so healing mages that remained. “Just a bunch of peaceful healers with no offensive magic?” 

“You’d be surprised how clever we healers can get when backed into a corner.” Iris growls. “We may not like it, but we’ve been able to hold our own, at least the best we can. My magic can set bones- but it can also break them.” She clenches her fist, causing Keralis to jump back. He swears he can hear the sound of a bone snapping, but no one cries out in pain. 

“But even then, we aren’t enough on our own.” Micha shakes his head. “That’s why we need you. Do you think you can help?” 

TFC looks around, at the dark hall. A hall that once was filled with life, with white robed healers mingling among patients and fellow guildmembers, sharing their meals in the warm glow of torches on the ancient wood tables that stretched down the hall. Now, the torches are out and the seats are empty, tables for food now makeshift hospital beds and barricades against the doors. This place is nothing like Gildara. If anything, it’s worse. There was no sign of struggle in Gildara, only a lack of life. But here, he can see the life fading, burnt and broken. And with each healer, each guildmember that dies, they take a bit with it. Filling the land with death. 

Whatever these husks are, whatever kind of dark magic they’re from, it steals life, and leaves only death. “We-” 

The door behind the hermits slams open, heavy oak bouncing off the aged wood walls. A lithe man is gasping for breath, blood coating his white alb and ash clinging to the hem. Half of the healers jump into action, drawing their circles and weapons. Every single hermit brandishes their own magic, waiting to see if the man is a husk or human. 

He lifts his head, revealing deep brown eyes and a feverish face. “They’re back. On the Western rise. More than I’ve ever seen.”

[stowaway-macaw]

Biome Curse (Part 1)

The universe was a strange place, and nobody knew that more than the hermits. Each one has been to many worlds and seen many things, though some of the craziest things they'd seen had happened once they became a hermit. The future was holding more in store for them, though not all of it would be enjoyable. The future had plans for the hermits and those plans would take all they had to overcome.

Scar had decided to take a break and relax from all of his building. He had made it his job to provide homes for all of the… unique creatures he had befriended, but building a village alone is taxing to say the least. He opted for the pile of shulker boxes rather than the jungle floor and flopped down on the small mess outside his snaily abode. 

He knew that his home was an odd one, but that was precisely why he loved it. That, and there were quite a few hermits living in the jungle. Neighbors always made their time in the world more enjoyable. 

Scar idly contemplated the reason why so many hermits had made the jungle their home. Truth be told he kind of knew the reason. The jungle had this… pull. Not physically, but Scar would get a weird feeling every time he tried to leave. His heart would beat slightly faster and his muscles tense up. A feeling of inexplicable guilt would settle in his stomach, the kind you get when you accidentally hurt your friend's feelings and don't know how to fix it. Scar simply assumed that the other jungle hermits had gotten a similar feeling when they found the jungle. After all, everyone who came would end up staying.

Well, almost everyone. Grian was a bit of an outlier. He did make his starter base in the jungle, but Scar had seen his mansion just outside of the dense foliage. He did like being neighbors with Grian, but he also knew how much Grian liked open spaces. The jungle was pretty, but not the best place for someone who took every opportunity to fly in open air. 

As Scar lay on the shulker boxes, his eyes drifted closed. He had grown used to the humid jungle air and it lulled him to sleep, the lush world fading from view.

Only to consume his vision yet again. Scar felt a presence and it snapped him awake. He looked around and listened for the source of the presence, but saw nothing. What he did notice however, was his change in location. He was no longer on top of his shulker boxes, rather he was sitting on the jungle floor, his village nowhere to be seen.

Panic started to cloud his thoughts, but he quickly reeled himself back in. He couldn't be far from someone's base since he was still in the jungle, but before he could stand a voice echoed through his whole being. He could hear nothing but the rustling of leaves, but he knew there was a voice speaking to him. It was a voice he hadn't heard before but it was somehow familiar.

Listen. Finally. There are more here. The wizard has stayed. The technician has stayed. The leader has stayed. The druid has stayed. The builder has stayed. The bird is leaving. He will not leave. The wizard will help the jungle. The wizard will stay. The wizard will make the bird stay.

Scar felt the voice, and as it rattled off titles and commands, he realized that the voice was talking about him. He was a wizard now after all, but he didn't like what the voice was telling him. Before he could protest, another strange feeling washed over him and he suddenly didn't feel like he was in his own body. It was uncomfortable, but only lasted a few seconds. By the end of that time, his vision had gone dark.

Scar snapped his eyes open for the second time, not knowing when they had closed, yet this time he was back on his shulker boxes. He remembered what the voice had said.

He will not leave

Scar quickly grabbed some rockets and launched himself to the sky without bothering to check his elytra. If his gut feeling was right, he had to warn the other hermits and get out of the jungle. He had only gotten to the edge of the lake when he felt his body slam into something hard. He plummeted into the shallow waters and resurfaced, gasping for air. What had he hit?

Inching forward, he extended his hand, ignoring how uncomfortable his robe was as it clung to his arm. His fingers brushed against a solid, invisible surface and the air around his fingers seemed to distort and ripple. He looked closer and realized there was a similar, less obvious effect extending high into the sky and far to Scar's left and right. He was trapped.

Frantically and not bothering to exit the lake, Scar took out his communicator and typed in the chat, hoping to get some help.

<Goodtimeswithscar> guys something bad is going on and I need you all to get out of the jungle. I'll tell you more later but you guys need to get out now

<ZombieCleo> O.O

<Iskall85> what the heck?

<Iskall85> who the heck is that?

<Xisumavoid> I'm not sure

<Tango> I didn't even know you could type that

<Tango> that's the language on the enchanting tables right?

<Xisumavoid> it looks like it. The username is blocked out to…

"What?" Scar looked at the screen horrified. He couldn't talk with anyone. He was stuck there and nobody knew. He put the communicator away, ignoring the pings and trudging out of the lake, his robe uncomfortably clinging to him. How was he going to solve this? 

Scar walked slower than he had in a while, wracking his brain for any semblance of an idea. He only stopped when he reached the crystal he had made in the center of his village. He looked up at it, but something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. A red parrot was perched there with an envelope in its beak. No sooner had Scar spotted the bird than it had flown off, dropping the envelope at his drenched feet.

Scar picked up the envelope not before shaking some water away from his hands. It was plain paper with no writing on the outside. He tore it open, and took out the thin letter inside.

"Every wizard needs a familiar. The wizard gets his now."

That was all that was written on it. He stared blankly at the writing before looking back inside the envelope. Enclosed at the very bottom was a pendant attached to a silver cord. The pendant was a glass orb with a single feather inside. The feather seemed to constantly be changing color depending on how the light hit it, shifting from one color to the next and each color had a striking saturation. It wasn't pale like certain opals that Scar had seen, rather it looked like someone had discovered how to mix every dye and not have them blend into black or brown, but instead stay separate in a constantly shifting marble pattern.

Before he could stop himself, Scar took the accessory and donned it. He barely thought as he did it, like his hands moved on their own. All at once, there was a gust of wind and an explosion of color. Scar shut his eyes tightly and covered his face while he waited for the onslaught of color and wind to stop assaulting his vision and trying to blow him off his feet.

Then as quickly as it had begun, the chaos ceased and Scar carefully opened his eyes, only to see a semi-transparent figure crouched on the ground. The figure looked up at him and when their eyes met, Scar's mind had completely froze. The violet eyes that stared into Scar's green ones were all too familiar, and he could tell that the violet eyes recognized him as well.