#I’m wheezing when will they realize Cleo is RIGHT THERE | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bloop-im-a-frog-now · 2 years ago

Text

If The Gods Were Kind — sand pt.1

Part 6 babeyyyy!!! One more part before we get only desert duo content. I don’t know what else to say about this except have funny, hehe.

Enjoy!

Master Post

— —

Content warnings: graphic description of injury, character death (oh yeah, that one)

Taking over the sand lands wasn’t going to be easy. Scar knew that when he made his plan. He needed the llama, he needed to build his relationships with the others in this world, and most importantly, he needed to make sure the sand was accessible only through him.

He didn’t know what compelled him to tell his plans to Grian. Maybe it was his aura, maybe it was the way he laughed when Etho’s tree burned down, maybe it was the comfort of seeing his diamond sword and golden chest plate.

“Scar,” Grian whispered, gesturing his hand in a following motion. The way his lightning green eyes shined brighter even in the shadows sent shivers down Scar’s spine. Maybe those were what compelled him to open up.

“Do you want to take over the sand lands?” He made sure to keep his voice at the same level as Grian’s.

Grian hummed. “The sand lands?”

“Yeah,” Scar couldn’t stop himself, “it can be ours and—”

“They can hear us,” Grian warned, “they’re right over there.”

Scar tilted his head to see name tags moving around through the cobblestone walls. He flicked his hand, almost dropping his crutch but catching it on time. His lower back cracked in protest. He shrugged instead.

“It’s fine, I can burn their village down—” he followed Grian’s gaze only to see a judgy Bdubs and an amused Cleo right in front of them, “—oh, hi!” he said louder, smiling nervously.

Grian let out a wheeze while Bdubs crossed his arms, frowning.

“I’m with you, what’s wrong with you?”

Scar glanced back at Grian, spotting Impulse.

“This is the worst secret meeting I’ve ever been to,” Grian whisper-yelled, laughter in his voice.

Scar’s cheeks burned as Cleo let out a laugh. He shook his head and jerked it towards the oak forest. “Let’s have it over there.”

When people finally stopped following them (with Grian pausing every time they went down a hill), Grian took some saplings out of his inventory, showing them to Scar with a smirk. Scar frowned when he didn’t recognize it.

“What’s that?”

Grian blinked at him and looked back at the sapling he was holding. He squinted his eyes, inspecting it, only to groan in frustration.

“Sorry, wrong one.”

He took a much more colorful sapling in his hand. Scar gasped when he realized what kind they were.

“Oooh, dark oak saplings.”

Grian’s smirked widened. “I’ve been on a journey all over the world, collecting every sapling I could.”

Scar hummed. “They believed they had the last dark oak saplings.”

Grian raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Yeah?”

Scar chuckled and grinned. “We could have a monopoly over it.”

Grian’s eyes dilated, nodding and wings fluttering behind his back. Scar had a clear view of them. Going from red to yellow to blue, looking more bony than fluffy and crooked at some places. He wondered if Grian could fly. Or what even happened to him for his wings to be this messed up.

He shook the thought out of his head, focusing on their conversation. He had to convey his first business idea.

“Do you want to take over the sand lands and make people pay to come to get sand?”

Grian laughed nervously. “I’ve sorta started a base, but,” he paused, wings twitching, “the desert?” His wings almost close around him before he shook his upper body to put them back where they were. “It’s not the greatest place to live.”

Scar tutted. “No, it’s not about living, it’s about selling sand, because—”

Grian burst out of laughter. “It’s about the monopoly.”

Scar nodded frantically. “It is!” He jerked his head towards the village. “Dude, that place is a bust, I’m going somewhere better.”

Grian still looked uncertain, but he pulled out his dark oak saplings from his inventory. “There is a small place where the rest of the dark oaks are.” He inhaled through his teeth and tilted his head to Scar, too bird-like. “Do you think dark oak or sand?”

“Well, think about it,” Scar approached him, holding the two crutches in one hand and resting the other on Grian’s shoulder, ignoring the flinch, “we can make more dark oak with saplings. But sand?” He paused dramatically. “How do you make more sand?”

Grian opened his mouth and closed it, looking down in thought. “You can’t,” he concluded.

Scar grinned. “Exactly. So, whaddya say, partner?”

Scar extended his hand to Grian. But he shook his head.

“Have you seen how massive that land is?” His accent was more pronounced than usual, catching Scar off guard how close it resembled to Martyn’s.

Scar shook his head, not sure why that was important, placing the crutches on each side and grasping them. “We’ll just put a fence around it.”

Grian choked and laughed. “No no no, you don’t understand.”

Thus began their journey to the desert. A very long one at that. It took them two days to reach one end of the desert. Grian proved his point as they walked on the sand, dodging zombies, creepers, and skeletons. Scar was made aware of the existence of spiders thanks to that journey. He did not like them one bit.

Grian gave him a “see? ” look, gesturing his hand across the desert, and Scar shrugged.

“We could just mine it all,” he said, trying very hard to sound serious.

Grian gave him a bewildered look before laughing hysterically.

“Mine it all?! ” Grian moved back to the forest. “You’re bonkers.”

No matter how hard Scar tried to convince him, Grian left him, going back to the village, leaving him alone. Scar may have called him a coward a few times and said he was missing the opportunity to gain a lot of resources from it. It didn’t really matter in the end, Scar was still doing it and Grian would just be the one paying.

After admiring the absurdness that was a spider climbing up the transparent wall and creating a plan over how to make his business idea work (the desert was bigger than he first thought, so, he decided he could protect one side of it and the other side that was cut by a river could be the one where people come get their sand), he went back to the village. He really wanted that llama and Etho wouldn’t stop him. Maybe he should offer him something in exchange. Something like a chest ready for him filled with sand?

The closer he got to the village, the better he could hear voices. There were quite a few of them, laughter ringing all across it. He went towards the now burnt tree and saw Grian, Etho, Cleo, Tango, Impulse and Bdubs huddled over camp fires.

“So,” Etho’s voice was the first one he could hear clearly, “Grian, quite a few people know about them.”

As Grian laughed (was it out of nervousness, Scar wondered?), Scar leaned over him, his chin almost touching the top of that mop of curly dirty blond hair. Impulse was saying something but Bdubs sent him a raised eyebrow and interrupted him.

“Is Scar your jester?” he asked Grian.

Tango laughed when he realized where Scar was. “Or the enforcer, I’m not sure.”

“Did Scar follow me—?” Grian turned around and almost squawked when he saw Scar grinning at him.

“Well, hello there everyone!” he greeted.

“Oh, he did.”

“Grian, you took off and I couldn’t find you.”

Scar made sure to pout and add a bit of hurt in his voice. At Grian’s grin though, Scar knew it didn’t announce anything good.

“I’ll tell you what Scar’s been up to,” Scar tried to place his hand over Grian’s mouth but his wings pushed him back. Scar really didn’t want to touch the avian’s wings, and he almost grumbled how they prevented him from executing his plan. “Scar’s been trying to convince me to take over the desert so that no one can have any sand.”

Deny it . “Noooo oh oh.”

“Not a bad idea,” someone chimed in.

“It’s not that bad,” Bdubs hushed everyone with his surprisingly calm voice. “And, honestly, we think you should pursue that.” A still silence, as if Bdubs was trying to find the correct words. “Th-there is something—”

“After,” Tango interrupted, but Bdubs ignored him.

“Something you’re currently protecting that we feel could be beneficial to everybody involved.”

“Uh-huh,” Grian said slowly, uncertainty in his voice, leaning to the side. Scar put his crutches in his inventory and placed his arms crossed on the back of the chair, leaning forward. Grian’s hair was itching his chin, but he ignored it.

“But, um,” Bdubs looked in front of him, where Etho was sitting, “Etho, take it away.”

Etho blinked at him and sent a nervous look to Grian—and thus, to Scar too. “Um, so, yeah, you know, we thought we could just take it,” he fiddled with his glove, “but that didn’t seem right, right? So we wanna—”

“Extend the olive branch,” Tango cut again.

“Yeah, you know, a gift.”

Scar groaned quietly, walking towards the chest that was resting against the dirt barrier. He didn’t have time to open it when Grian said:

“You want the villagers.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah, the originals from grandma,” Etho laughed nervously, followed by everyone’s snickers.

Scar turned around, mocked shock on his face.

“You held out on the villagers on me, Grian?” He pouted. “And I thought we were making plans to steal the desert.”

Of course, Scar knew Grian was never going to join him in his business adventure, but still, two heads were better than one. And it was fun messing with Grian.

Grian gave him a baffled look. “You were making plans to steal the desert.”

Scar scoffed. “I was bamboozled!”

“D’you know what, d’you know what,” people huddled closer to Grian, “when we arrived at the desert, I was like ‘there’s no way we’re gonna protect it all’ and you know what he said?” Bdubs shook his head vigorously, Impulse quirked his eyebrow, Etho hummed in intrigue, Tango took a step back and Cleo looked at their nails, somewhat bored. “‘What if we just mined it all?’”

Everyone burst out of laughter in surprise.

“Yeah.”

“This doesn’t seem like a good idea anymore.”

“Well,” Impulse said once everybody calmed down, “we didn’t come empty-handed, we do wanna trade for the villagers. We actually have an offer.”

Tango nodded. “We pulled our effort, our sweat, our,” Tango hesitated, “our muscles and put together this,” he pointed vaguely at the chest.

Everyone agreed and moved towards the dirt barrier. A few negotiations were needed here and there, but eventually, Grian agreed and everyone cheered. Scar wondered how they were gonna share the resources coming from the villagers, after all, they did say it was for everyone. With him living in the desert and knowing it was a two-day trip, he had the feeling he would be traveling a lot more than anticipated. This was why he wanted a business partner.

Eventually, Tango, Impulse and Etho got to work while the rest just hanged out close to the border.

“What other ideas did you have?” Bdubs asked him after a while.

Scar hummed. “Well, there was pillage the village, we did that.” He slightly rocked back and forth with his crutches as he thought. “Take the sand lands and take the sand for ourselves.”

“Yeah,” Bdubs encouraged.

Before Scar could respond, the classic hissing noise of a creeper hit their ears, everyone scattering away. When Scar spotted Martyn and heard his laughter, he groaned.

“Oh no, not again!!! ”

Grian just joined him while still looking like he lost 10 years of his life.

“A-ha! Gotcha good.”

“Ugh, that was obscenely loud,” Grian complained through his laughter.

Scar sighed. “We were having a secret meeting of world domination, and now it’s all ruined.”

“Yeah, thanks Martyn,” Bdubs rolled his eyes, groaning.

Martyn looked around him. “Is there a reason why everyone is in this one corner of the world?”

“Etho and Tango said they claimed the village first,” Cleo explained. “We’re here for the fun of it.”

“And villagers,” Grian added.

“Oh, I see. BigB and I just started here and y’all just come in like, squattered in it.”

Scar found it was a particular way to say “grouped in ”.

“By the way, good people of the world,” Martyn gained everyone’s attention, including the others that were occupied with the villagers, “I’ve come to spread the word of a new business that’s propped up.”

“Oh,” some people awed in interest. Scar simply hummed, intrigued in crushing any competitor.

“Just,” Martyn checked his communicator, “due north of here, actually, is the fabulous business known as Renchanting. Tag line—”

“Renchanting?” Etho wondered out loud.

“—Don’t be a dog, be a God.”

People were talking over each other, Bdubs noting how Martyn’s iron armor was glowing with a purple effect instead of pink like Grian’s, and how Etho was mentioning something, but before Scar could comprehend, Martyn yelled:

“Oh, that one’s real!”

In the few days Scar’s been in this world, he’d had zombie bites, the arrows of skeletons, and the sting of the phantoms. This was new.

He first heard the explosion before feeling it. It tore his back apart, almost like his flesh was being ripped off like a zombie bite, but spread out unevenly. His armor dug in him, sharp metallic corner piercing his body. An excruciating pain, almost like the headaches he would get when reading, grew on the back of his head, feeling the trails of blood on his shoulders and his now naked chest.

<- Prev _ Master Post _ Next ->

17 notes · View notes

korasonata · 3 years ago

Text

So, the original plan was to do these quotes until Joe and Cleo finished their models, which was half accomplished during this stream (yay Cleo!). Question is should I still continue these after Joe has finished his model, or have we had enough now? Favourite moments of Joe and Cleo model stream part 7! Link to the video is below and time stamps are above each set of quotes!

Link: https://m.twitch.tv/videos/1155955572

—

00:32:05

Joe: This is our weekly paper craft stream. I’m joined today by ZombieCleo, who you can find at—

Cleo: Hiiiiiiiiii!!!

Joe: — twitch.tv/zombiecleo. You don’t need to type the “hi” in the middle. Although it is adorable, and so I wouldn’t blame you.

—

00:56:25

Cleo (in response to someone saying they like Hershey’s chocolate): I mean you can like the chocolate. It’s ok to be wrong. It’s fine. You know, you can—

Joe: A certain amount of the other person being wrong is to be expected in any relationship.

Cleo: Yeah! Look at my relationship with you, Joe.

Joe: Yeah, I mean we’re— we’re off the charts for that.

—

01:01:15

Joe (changing into his chroma green tank top): We can’t have people seeing my torso.

Cleo: Oh you know, yeah you— you are a cryptid.

—

01:02:04

Joe (doing a face camera expansion): these chains I’ve forged in life are about to begin pulling me down to the deep below! Enter the Jhoooooooost!

Cleo: Can I just point out that “life” was very southern. At that point. (Heavy southern accent) Life.

Joe (heavy southern accent): Life.

Cleo: Laaaaaffe

Joe: Liiiiife *both laughing* These chains I’ve forged in—

Both: laaaaffe!!

Joe (heavy twang): Pullin’ me daaan to the deep behlooow!

—

01:07:16

Cleo (in response to Joe having a laughing fit): And that is one of the rare times where Joe has a complete, absolute giggle fit on stream

Joe (still laughing): Ok I’m sorry, but “puritans go home” is the best thing to put on anything worth— ok im gonna start making a— ok. (Serious) Im gonna start making an actual checklist cause, um, (actually writing down a checklist of things he’s taking to his parents for thanksgiving) ok thanks—giving twenty twenty—one. Ok so, salad cream.

Cleo: *wheezing*

Joe (reading list): “Puritans go Home” icing on pie…Um, you know let’s just throw iron brew in there. Why not! Irn-Bru and vodka!

Cleo (laughing): Sure! Why not!

Joe: Yeah. Well, so, my maternal grandmother was Scottish and—

Cleo: oh I’m sorry.

Joe: —so I think my mom would get a kick out of Irn-Bru. As like “oh! Here’s something from the old country!”

Cleo: *physically wheezing* from the old country!

—

01:29:43

Joe: Oh, it’s really fun. Did you know that a bunch of people on Tumblr care a lot about how tall each of us are?

Cleo: Yeah. Yeah.

Joe: Yeah, oh man I’ve been spreading information and taking weird height pictures with people at conventions for years. It’s like— *Cleo laughing* I’ll intentionally like stand on things or like, uh, or like stand in such a way that you can’t tell I’m crouching, so people are like “Ok, so Joe’s like taller than Bdubs but shorter than, uh, like— Stress or something. It’s like how does that happen?!” *trying not to laugh* Because I’m screwing with you.

—

01:31:11

Joe: See that’s the thing is— is sometimes people think things are about power. I think they’re just about being obnoxious.

Cleo: I mean, you think most things are about being obnoxious which is why it’s a power move for you. Cause being obnoxious is your power move. It’s where you’ve got the most power, Joe.

Joe: Hm, that makes sense.

Cleo: Sometimes I do. I try not to when I’m with you, because— it’s easier.

Joe: Yeah. You don’t wanna give me any actual like workab— or usable intelligence.

—

01:42:47

Joe (reading chat): I’ve been on Hermitcraft since season one— yeah. That was only like 10 years ago though.

Cleo: I’ve been on Hermitcraft since season 2.

Joe: Yay Cleo!

Cleo: Which was only because Joe asked me to come on, or pu— vouched for me.

Joe (genuine): Well I am glad you joined.

Cleo: I mean I was— I was at the point where I was just like “is this what I wanna do for the rest of my life? Should I just go full ham into teaching?” And, uh, then you made that offer and I thought “well, I’ll see how it goes”. And it did quite well for me. So…you know.

Joe (quietly): I am so glad

Cleo: You are the reason why I’m still doing Minecraft content.

—

01:44:19

Joe (reading chat): Attasked says “Only you can judge whether you’re hot” no plenty of people can tell I’m hot, Graved. It’s— pretty blatantly obvious. You don’t— you don’t have to be good at judging to be able to tell. Like, that’s not an only me thing.

—

02:00:54

Cleo: You ever have those moments where you’re just questioning your choices in life?

Joe: *having a breakdown* Moments!

Cleo: *cackling*

Joe (through tears): I’m sorry, you’re just the best Cleo.

Cleo: *laughing, but genuine* Awe, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to depress you today!

Joe: No it’s— *inaudible sobbing* Today—

Cleo: *dying*

Joe (quietly to himself): Is this is frame? Sorry, I was cutting this out of frame. My bad.

Cleo (still laughing): I like how everyone’s just sort of gone quiet and gone “…is Joe ok?”

Joe: nOO!!!

Cleo: We’ve established that Joe is not ok.

Joe: But I’m really good at it!

Cleo: *spitting out her drink*

—

01:49:52

Joe: Let’s go down the Mississippi, Cleo.

Cleo: I mean, that I think we could probably do. Let’s go down the Mississippi, Joe.

Joe: yay!

Cleo: On a flimsy raft.

Joe: Yeah, we can actually— there’s a lot nicer boats now though. Like—

Cleo: I mean— yeah, but do we— do— you know…it’s the Huckleberry Finn experience.

Joe: I mean, here’s the thing, is if you actually came here and I was like “Cleo, let’s go to the Mississippi River and go down the river a few miles”. I think you’d be more likely to actually say yes if I had an actual boat lined up than if I had a flimsy raft.

Cleo (excited): If it— if it— if it makes you feel better, I— I would do the flimsy raft. Like, hands down. It seems more fun.

Joe (realizing that she’s serious): I— you say that, but I don’t think you’ve seen the Mississippi River. Like, the problem is it’s full of these giant barges these days, the wakes of which would just throw your raft over.

Cleo (dead serious): I can swim.

Joe (attempting to compromise, completely lost as to how he has somehow managed to be the voice of reason): Ok…Alternatively we can go down a smaller river…In a raft…

—

02:04:43

Joe: Sorry, I’ll stop monologuing. Uh, but yeah sorry I was in the process of—

Cleo: I’LL STOP MONOLOGUING! Yeah, yeah that’s gonna happen.

Joe: yeah, I’ll- I’ll say I’m gonna stop monologuing and I’ll warn you that-

Cleo: And then he just continues

Joe: -that Cleo you should probably be ready to start talking sometime in the next 8-12 minutes.

—

02:15:26

Joe: Oh, I need to get a green screen suit jacket. Um, I realized. Cause I got the green screen, um, uh dress shirt. That I wear under existing suits, but I don’t have an actual like green screen suit.

Cleo: I— I am always amused by your definition of “need”

Joe: My definition of what?

Cleo: Need.

Joe: Need.

Cleo: I need a green suit.

Joe: Ok, I’m sorry Cleo, the people need me to get a green suit.

—

02:30:23

Cleo (reading chat): “Joe-Getters and Go-Getters” yeah, Joe’s not a Go-Getter, he’s a Joe-Getter. Which is infinitely worse.

Joe: You say being a Joe-Getter is infinitely worse, but you also frequently lament that you get me. So, maybe you’re a Joe-Getter. Have you considered that?

Cleo: I am a Joe-Getter. I do get you, Joe. Which is terrible. It’s— It’s a trauma, actually Joe, I’ll have you know.

Joe: Yeah, comprehend me and despair, Cleo.

Cleo: I looked too deep into the abyss. The Joe-byss, sorry.

Joe: Thank you, yeah we’ve got a brand. Always be branding.

Cleo: *giggling* A.B.B. - Always Be Branding.

Joe: That’s not an infinite void of despair. That’s an infinite void of—

Both: Joe’s despair.

—

02:34:31

Joe: Let’s just leave it at don’t push me off a roof. Like *laughing* I feel like anything I could add to that would undermine the overall theme of just encouraging people to not do that.

Cleo: Um, let me put it like this. I always had the capacity. Always. But! I never acted on it, Joe.

Joe: Mhm, yeah thank you.

Cleo: …yet…I’ll try not to.

Joe: Yeah. And— and also keep in mind Cleo, I mean, given, you know, how well we’ve managed to work together over the last decade. Even if you did push me or throw me off a roof. *grinning* What makes you think that you’re not coming with me?

Cleo (slightly proud): That felt like a threat. It felt like a threat. I’m not gonna lie.

Joe (through giggles): Yeah, that was the, like— I spent 90 seconds figuring out how to revise that so is it was not blatantly like a violent threat.

Cleo: I mean…yeah, I think— I think— I think between the tw— it— it’s a mutual aggression pact at this point.

—

02:51:53

Cleo (holding up seemingly two identical pictures of turret towers): Am I— am I going actually insane? Are they not…the same turret?

Joe (examining pages on screen): …y—you know there might be…subtle differences that, uh, a— you know, skilled crafts person would find unavoidably blatant. Um…I make no such claim Cleo.

Cleo: Good, because, you know…trauma…Yours, not mine.

Joe: *laughing* yeah I was gonna say. Trauma as a verb. I’m just gonna trauma you.

Cleo: *laughing* I’m gonna trauma you so hard right now.

Joe: Yeah, if you don’t calm down and agree with me.

Cleo: If you don’t agree with me, that’s— that’s your mistake.

—

03:38:48

Cleo (about authors): just be careful who you like and just recognize the faults in any media that you do like. Just don’t imagine that everything’s perfect, because it’s not. Just be open to the fact it’s not perfect.

Joe: The only perfect media is YouTube videos produced by ZombieCleo.

Cleo: Fact.

—

04:00:34

(Having finished her model)

Cleo (tiredly): No booshes. No booshes. I know it’s got places for booshes, but I don’t want to do booshes because…there’s a limit.

Joe (currently in the United States): Yeah. Well, now you can come over here and help me Cleo, is what chat’s saying.

Cleo: Ok.

Joe: Go help Joe hold this stuff he can’t glue.

Cleo (Currently in England): Hang on, hang on. *rummaging on desk* What do you need? I’ve got lots of things, what do you need?

#hermitcraft #hermitblr #zombie cleo #zombiecleo #joehills #joe hills

203 notes · View notes

dazzledamazon · 3 years ago

Text

Just A Loving Goodbye? 6/6

Boomer put his head on top of hers, tears falling from his eyes, “No. Fuck, this isn’t fucking fair. I finally got you. Ya still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I love you.”

Her hand held his cheek. Eyes full of tears. Mouth set in a smile. She pulled him into a kiss.

“I love you, you idiot. You always had me. Just had to come and get me, slow poke,” she smiled.

At that moment, Mongal walked over. She brightened seeing her friend in Boomer’s arms. Until she realized how sick she was.

“Mongal? You’re alive?! I knew you were too tough to die from it,” she told her, with a smile. “Kick ass for me huh? I don’t think Boomy is gonna let me.”

“I got this for both of us,” she said. “Make sure he takes care of you,” she said throwing Boomer a glare.

Mongal left with T.D.K and Javelin. Boomer pulled her into his lap.

“Remember when we met?,” she asked him, playing with the chain around his neck.

Boomer chuckled, “How can I forget luv? Ya nearly shot me head off after I saved ya,” he said winking at her. “Still owe me a kiss at least.”

“Did not! Not my fault that you had to try and save the little girl from the big, bad man,” she laughed, as he pulled her tighter to him. “You owe me a kiss, at the very least handsome.”

“Cause I knocked his head off,” Boomer said proudly, kissing the top of her head.

She rolled her eyes, “No, like I keep telling you, you almost decapitated me instead. I tripped. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here right now. You’d still be after Katana. Why? That’s a great question Dig. Why her?”

He rolled his eyes, “Only you would ruin a romantic fight at a time like this, bringing her up,” he chuckled. “Truth is, I knew she’d always turn me down, but it was fun. Figured you .. eh wouldn’t even talk to a bastard like me. Still remember how you finally started talkin to us after that. First thing you ever said to me… you idiot! Your nickname for me,” he chuckled.

“And those were your first words to me too. Right after I shot that asshole over your shoulder. I was scared to death of all of you. Flag too. I’ve always been a loner. Never really had anyone. Didn’t know what to do. But y’all gave me all of it .. and you my idiot, gave me more,” she began, before a coughing fit, started.

Finally the battle was over. They won, but there was a casualty. Rick went back to check on them. Boomer had pulled her tightly against him, holding her head to his chest. Face laying on top of her head. Tears falling. His pink unicorn in her arms. Rick stopped Harley and Cleo.

“Give him time right now.”

Mongal closed her eyes. She never had disclosed that she could do this. Would never do this again. Mongal took her hand, squeezed it tight and left. A few minutes later, her color came back. Her eyes opened and she felt his tears.

“Digger,” she said weakly, pulling away from his chest, wiping tears off his face. “You’re crushing me baby,” she wheezed, as he pulled her closer.

“Ya alive? Fuckin miracle,” he whispered, searching her eyes, lifting her shirt over the re-opened stab wound. “Bloody hell. Ya ain’t bleedin. I gotta be fuckin dreamin’,”his Australian accent, getting thicker through his tears and shock.

“No, Boomer. I’m no dream. Just your idiot,” she laughed, hugging him. Spotting Mongal a few yards away, and looking at her she said silently to her, “Thank you.”

Mongal smiled briefly and nodded. Rick caught it and knew. Walking next to her, he squeezed Mongal’s shoulder tight, smiled and walked away. Boomer never knew, nor did anyone else. Boomer picked her up and carried her to sit on an upside down table. Then Boomer grabbed a can of beer out of his coat, not thinking, he was so happy. Rick was hugging her tightly. She took the beer out of his hand with a smile, before he could open it.

“Later. And Whiskey, she whispered to him, giving him a kiss, curling up against his chest.

#captain boomerang x reader #captain boomerang

45 notes · View notes

takeflight-hermitcraftau · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 2-Two Brain cells with a Death Wish

Grian looked back at Mumbo, the words resonating in his head for a second. “Well… You see.” He started out softly, sitting up straighter and wrapping his wings loosely around himself. “In my other world, Evolution, We started finding these pillars. These symbols made of bedrock and obsidian. If we did good deeds, if we followed what they told us to do, we were rewarded. Any sign of selfishness or cruelty was punished.” Grian scratched at the back of his neck, looking at Mumbo for any signs of annoyance.

“So they were… essentially the gods of your world?” He asked, Grian nodded.

“Essentially yea. They watched over us and made sure we got through updates at the pace they wanted us too. Everyone on the server told me my wings were because of them, that I should be happy, and that I might be like them. But I don’t wanna be. It seems so boring. You build the same pillars, the same towers, without any change. You don’t seem to have any worldly ties. It seems… lonely. Besides, with my nature I’m pretty sure they hate me.” Grian curled up into himself a bit, his voice trailing off into a mumble.

“You’re nature? You mean your playful and silly attitude? You mean your work ethic and your willingness to try new things and learn?” Mumbo asked, a small and comforting smile pulling onto his face. Grian looked up at him, almost confused by what he said. “Do you not believe me?”

“No, yes- i mean-! I don’t know. I’m not used to all this. Everyone back home kinda just ignored me until I decided to blow up their base or steal diamonds. When they needed me to rebuild or replace stuff. People usually didn’t call me over to just have a chat.” Grian said, sighing as he shifted to face Mumbo. “But what about you? What about everyone else here? Why do you all have wings?”

“Well… I shouldn’t tell everyone’s stories. Some are a bit personal. But I believe most of them come from a glitch. Something happened and we were spawned in with them. We don’t really question it.” Mumbo shrugged, “But people like Doc and Cleo have a bit more of a troubled history with their glitched parts. Not to mention they were already player hybrids to start. But hey, those sorts of things are in the past, and they make us look bloody cool don’t it?” Mumbo grinned, listening to Grian’s high pitched laugh as his head was thrown back.

“Right. Now… just cause i’m curious. How fast can you go?” Grian asked, trying to change the topic. Mumbo perked up proudly.

“I’d say a solid 50 blocks per hour.” He said, the feathers of his wings ruffling a bit. Grian just laughed.

“Only 50? I can get to a solid 100 without breaking a sweat!” Grian challenged. Mumbo stood up.

“You wanna test that mate?” he asked. Grian stood up as well.

“First one to the fantasy district and back wins?”

“Deal.” The two shook hands, readying themselves at the top of Mumbo’s base, hands firm against the white concrete, legs bent and ready to snap at a moments notice. Their wings were open, Mumbo’s only slightly so he didn’t slam Grian into the ground on take off.

“Three…” Grian started, a grin pulling at his face.

“Two…” Mumbo glanced over to the dirty blond, not liking the look on his face. Chaos was aflame in his eyes, and it was almost unnerving.

“ONEGO!” Grian yelled, his feet pushing against the concrete as he launched himself into the air. He sped off, leaving Mumbo screaming in the distance. “EAT MY TAIL FEATHERS MUMBO JUMBOLIO!” Grian yelled behind himself, before looking straight ahead. He expertly dodged mountains and tall trees, hands out in front of him and helmet secured tightly to his head.

Wind whipped passed him, and he had to yell an apology to Scar for nearly crashing into him, but the two narrowly avoided each other. Grian smiled widely as the smell of the ocean faded into grass and trees, then back into that salt like scent. He saw the starting of False’s base, the start of the fantasy district. “HEY FALSE!” Grian called out to the building blond. He landed on top of her little mountain, grinning widely. He couldn’t even see Mumbo.

“Oh! Hey Grian what’s up?” False flew over to him.

“Oh I’m just beating Mumbo in a race. I’m waiting to see him before i bolt back.”

“You cheeky sod.” False laughed, and Grian joined in. “Oh I see him now!” False pointed out, and Grian just waved to Mumbo happily.

“See ya!” Grian laughed, taking off once more and blasting past Mumbo.

“You little bas-!” Grian didn’t hear the rest of Mumbo’s sentence, laughing hysterically has he flew onto Biffa’s mountain. He landed carefully.

Or tried too.

He screamed as he was flying far too fast, collide face first with the ground.

Grian experienced kinetic energy

Docm77: gg

MumboJumbo: hA

MumboJumbo: OHNO

MumboJumbo experienced kinetic energy

Grian respawned inside of his shipwreck, laughing wildly. He held his stomach and laughed until he fell out of bed.

Docm77: GG

Falsesymmetry: Omg i caught that on camera.

Grian clutched his stomach, his head thrown back in wild laughter. “Oh my god. That’s too perfect!” He stood up slowly, rushing over to Mumbo’s base. He swam up onto his platform and took off. He was still laughing by the time he got there, Mumbo standing frazzled by his bed. “Oh my god that was too funny.” Grian wheezed, landing on the little treehouse Mumbo had made. Mumbo just burst out laughing as he realized what exactly just happened.

“Oh my- Oh my god. That was perfect. I should’ve been recording!” Mumbo laughed, the two just sitting on the platform and taking deep breaths to calm themselves down. “Soo i totally won that.” Mumbo grinned, yelping as he was hit on the shoulder.

“No you did not! If we hadn’t died I totally would’ve won!” Grian protested. He stood up. “Come on lets go get our stuff back.” He took off quickly once more, never seeming too loose his energy. Mumbo smiled at the new hermit as he flew off, sighing softly. Just another day in the Hermitcraft world.

Grian landed on top of the mountain, quickly collecting his things as the sun went down. He pulled on his armor, held his sword in his hands and went back to his base after he messaged Mumbo that he’d be going to bed. He dived down into the ocean, using his wings to propel him underwater. His wings were sleek and rather small, nothing compared to people like TFC and Doc. His wings were built for speed and agility. He swam in through the neck of the bottle, popping out into his cramped base. He pulled a nametag out of one of his chests, and quickly took out a marker, writing ‘TAG’ in large and bold letters over it.

He pulled out his camera again, starting it up and going to record. He explained the rules of his new game, writing them down in a book as he did so. He was grinning like mad, a fire in his eyes he didn’t even know his soon to be chaos was fueling. Grian was giggling to himself as he wrote everything down, quickly flying out of his base and onto the little platform. He shook out his clothes and wings once more, taking flight and rushing over to Mumbo’s base. He looked onto his communicator, finding Mumbo’s gamertag and noticing he had went afk for a while. He groaned loudly, just for now hiding in a corner and watching the chickens that had suspiciously filled Mumbo’s base.

Grian ended up perching himself onto Mumbo’s enchantment station, one knee to his chest while his other leg dangled off the bookshelves. He kept throwing eggs everywhere, the occasional chicken spawning in. He hummed softly to himself, and was rather surprised that he had the patience to wait for Mumbo instead of just flying off to get someone else.

Docm77: Does anyone have a few books to spare? I only need l 3.

MumboJumbo: Oh yea! Just come into my base and snag them.

Grian pressed himself against the wall, hiding out of Mumbo’s sight just in case. He went to peak around the wall, only to find he was still afk!

Being afk was a sleeplike state that was induced after a few minutes of standing completely still. For some people it allowed them to retreat into a mind space, for others it was just like meditation. But it allowed mobs to spawn near a player, or for machines to continue working. It was bad edicate to do anything to people while they were afk.

Grian sighed, deciding to go for Doc instead, hiding next to Mumbo’s ladder and sitting there, waiting for the player hybrid to climb down the ladder into the place. He groaned loudly, walking over to Mumbo and poking at him.

“Mumbo jumbo you are afk.” He sang boredly, “I’m gonna take your mustache away-” He puffed out his cheeks as he got no response. God. He felt like a needy girlfriend. But he was so bored! You can’t blame him!

A loud squeak rang past his lips as he heard a accented voice complaining faintly, the sound hovering above him. He quickly rushed back to his spot, practically bouncing up and down as chickens walked around the whole place. He heard a loud explosion, before a death message popped up. Shit. Grian quickly climbed up the ladder of Mumbo’s base, quickly getting Doc’s scattered things and rushing to put them in a chest before everything despawned.

It was normal practice for him, as it had been mostly ingrained into his head that because of his speed he needed to help others with when they inevitably died. He sighed softly, making a sign and putting it on the chest, giving Doc directions to Mumbo’s base. He quickly slipped back into Mumbos base, and waited another ten or so minutes before he heard Doc’s grumbling as he climbed down the ladder. He pressed his wings into the wall behind him, seeing the creeper hybrid walking towards Mumbo. He rushed him quickly.

Grian reached out a fist, punching Doc in the shoulder, threw him both the tag and the book, before bolting back up the ladder. “I GOT YOU!” Grian yelled in victory, laughing hysterically as he quickly climbed. Doc didn’t even manage to get a word in before Grian left, but he started laughing as well, rubbing his shoulder.

“What the hell?” He asked, looking at the book that had been thrown at him. “A tag game hm? Interesting.” His voice drawled menacingly, and he looked over at Mumbo. He took the items he originally came for, and left. Hey, he might be an evil genius but he’ll play by the rules.

Grian landed on his platform, laughing hysterically. He let out a small sigh to calm himself down, fluttering his wings a bit to let out some pent up energy. He plopped down onto the cobblestone ground, looking up at the sky with a wide grin. So far he wasn't getting any typing in the chat from Doc. So he knew the other wasn’t angry at him for being hit.

He stretched out his wings, looking to them. His wings were small compared to Doc and TFC. But he was pretty damn confident he could out fly either of them. He hasn’t been able to talk to Stress much, but he’s pretty sure her wings are smaller than his. It really didn’t matter though. What did matter, was that they were a group of people, all who had been deemed out-casts by others, or felt as such. And they found a home with one another. He found a home with them. And frankly, he kind of didn’t want to go back.

#Hermitcraft #Take Flight au #Winged au #Avian #Grian #Hermitcraft Grian #Mumbo #Mumbo Jumbo #Shenanigans #Fluff #Tag #Grian and Mumbo have on braincell and its Iskall's

65 notes · View notes

side-effect-of-the-meds · 5 years ago

Note

I gotta say I was a bit... surprised to see Ania and Erin starting to take care for a child so early because I kinda wanted to see them to be able to explore each other and their relationship more and with a child there are other priorities other than that. But, I’m really curious to see how this all evolves because it’s a beautiful start and the story is amazing

OMFG I was just about to do a post clarifying this bc I realized that I hadn’t really talked about it in Jeanie’s story. Thanks so much for mentioning it, love

The girls ARE NOT raising Cleo. Not yet, at least. There is one reason and one reason alone as to why Cleo calls Erin and Ania, Mama and Mommy and it’s this: Kevin is a thot.

While the girls are at the court, they spend a lot of time with Cleo bc she’s irresistible. She’s too smol and adorable for people not to gravitate towards her. Erin and Ania just happen to spend more time with her than most of the others. Nicky makes a joke that the three of them look like a family and it gives Kev an idea. He spends a lot of time at the court bc it’s his life. As such, he sees Cleo often. He’ll take Cleo into the common room where they meet and sit her on his lap. He’ll point at the two of them and quietly recite the words ‘Mama’ and ‘Mommy’. They’re close enough that Cleo can differentiate between the two of them but not close enough for them to hear him.

One day the foxes are filing into the Court, and Cleo is holding onto one of the couches. She’s trying to climb up into Erin’s spot when she hears everyone coming in. She turns around to watch them, a massive smile on her face. When Erin files in, her eyes grow wide.

“You lil’ shit. You’re too small to get up there on your own,” Erin drawls as she goes to pick Cleo up. She picks her up and Cleo grabs her face.

“Mama!” she cries. Erin nearly drops her. The entire court is silent. “Mama,” Cleo says again. Everyone is screaming. Just screaming. Even Wymack and Abby bc wtf. Kevin is wheezing with laughter. Erin catches sight of him and realizes what he’s done.

“Alright, Cleo,” Erin says, setting her down on the couch. “Mama’ll be right back. Right now, she’s got a bastard to kill.” Kevin is sprinting for the door with Erin on his heels.

Wymack ends up moving in with Abby once Jeanie leaves to help raise Cleo. She remains in their care until Ania and Erin get married. This happens when Cleo is around 10. Ania plays for Chicago and Erin joins a team in Detroit. They’re 5 hrs by car from one another and 2.5 hrs by plane from Cleo. It’s about a 12 hr drive from Columbia to Chicago but Wymack drives Cleo and Abby up there every year to watch the girls play each other. It’s a tradition.

However, the girls both get offered a place on the team in New York. I’m not getting into the details bc I’m saving it for later but this is when they decide to get married. They have their wedding at the Foxhole Court bc they are massive nerds and all the Foxes attend. During the reception, they pop the most important question of their lives. They ask Cleo to come live with them. The girls had been talking to Wymack and Abby about it for a while but they were putting it off bc they weren’t living together and they didn’t want Cleo to have to keep splitting her time between the two of them. Now they had a three-bedroom apartment picked out one for them, one for Cleo, and one for guests Erin insists it would be awful lonely if only one of them was always full. Cleo cries because this is everything she’s ever wanted. That’s when the girls officially adopt Cleo and the three of them move to New York together.

So the girls are together for 9-10 years before they’re actually taking care of Cleo. While in college, it’s a little more babysitting than actually raising a kid.

#just a pipe dream #fem!andreil #erin minyard #ania josten #cleo moriyama #the foxhole court au #the foxhole court #the foxes #all for the game au #all for the game #all for the gay #tfc au #tfc hc #tfc #aftg au #aftg hc #aftg #reveal to me your deepest desires

10 notes · View notes

takemedancingmaine · 6 years ago

Text

It Was Self-Defense

“I.D.?”

I froze. My cards, including my I.D. had been in my bag that was stolen. I could feel Liam and Cleo beside me as they started to pull out their wallets to produce their cards.

I'd been hoping to avoid this. The guy at the door has definitely seen us at least five times before, and pretty recently, too. He knew we were all of age.

I slipped my hand into my back pocket where I had my paper I.D. that just came in the mail from the Missouri DMV today. It was in my pocket along with my temporary replacement debit card and my phone. No more purses for this girl.

I took out the piece of paper and definitely felt foolish when it was my turn, Liam and Cleo having already been cleared.

“Why is it paper?” The bouncer asked the question I knew my friends were also wanting to ask.

“I lost my wallet and I have to wait for Missouri to process a new license for me. This is what I've got until they send me an actual card,” I explained, my cheeks feeling warm with embarrassment.

He looked over the paper and then back at me, and although he was clearly hesitant, he let us all in any way.

I folded and slipped the paper into my back pocket as quickly as I could while Liam held the door open for me and Cleo.

“You lost your wallet?” He asked.

“Yeah,” I nodded. “I think I left it on the train and when I checked with the CTA they said they never found anything or got anything turned in, so…” I trailed off my lie and ducked my head to get under the arm of someone who was cheering over a Cubs RBI.

The Cubs were in the postseason and not only was all of Chicago alive with the excitement but my neighbourhood, being right near the stadium, was ecstatic.

“Wow,” Cleo sucked in a breath as we stepped up to the bar. “That sucks. Did you have to cancel all your cards, too? Did any of them have any charges?”

I nodded, “I did, but thankfully no charges. I froze them immediately from my phone once I'd realized what I'd done. I also had to report my Ventra card as stolen and have them transfer my pass to a new one. It was a hassle.”

“Thankfully you always keep your phone in your pocket,” Liam nodded at me before he turned to the bartender who’d just shown up, and ordered himself an IPA.

It had been four days since I was mugged.

After getting some oxygen back and peeling myself up off the porch, I had stumbled inside through the back door. Once both doors were locked and I was upstairs, I called the police.

While I waited for them to arrive I proceeded to cry as I cancelled my bank cards from my bank app on my phone and made a note to call the DMV as soon as they opened.

Then I made a note to call my landlord about the front lock. I'd be using the back door until he came by to fix it or put in a new lock.

I gave my account of what happened to the officers, tried to give a description as best I could, but it had been dark and I was attacked from behind by a man with a hood. I kept my tears at bay as best I could while I scratched out what had happened through a damaged throat.

One of the officers had given me a notepad of paper and a pen to use when I started coughing up blood from all the talking I'd done. Another handed me a handkerchief before he got me a glass of water from the filter in my fridge.

I had serious doubts that the police would find the man, not that I doubted their abilities, but I'd given them practically nothing to go on. Still, I felt marginally better after having them come to my home and make sure I was okay.

They assured me that attackers rarely come back to the same area for fear of the area being on alert after such an attack. It shouldn't really have given me peace of mind that my attacker had probably fled to another part of the city but, in a way, it did.

The officers recommended I go to the hospital, even tried to call the paramedics, to have my trachea checked out and make sure there was no real, lasting damage. I refused, figuring my wheezy voice would get better and that if I iced the bruises and used a salve the skin would return to normal colour soon enough.

I also wasn't going to tell anyone else what had happened.

I was going to be fine, just fine.

My friends and parents did not need to worry needlessly. My mom would only tell me to come home and leave Chicago forever and my friends would hover unnecessarily and neither option seemed the least bit appealing to me.

By Monday the wheeze had diminished from my voice so that it was almost unnoticeable. I told Louis I'd strained it while singing as I cleaned all day the day before and he shrugged it off.

The bruises were still a dark, deep purple and blue colour when I got ready for work on Monday though, so I'd settled for concealer and a turtleneck. The same went for Tuesday and now Wednesday. It was all turtlenecks and scarves for me and I'm sure it would be for a few more days.

Luckily, I was quite prone to wearing scarves tied fancily around my neck, so although it was abnormal for me to have my neck covered every day it wasn't enough to raise suspicion.

Today’s red fashion scarf was paired with a black T-shirt with a collar that had always been a little tight. I never wore it anymore because of that, but it meant that my neck was covered from top to bottom today and I didn't look too out of place when it ended up being warmer. A long sleeve turtleneck sweater might be a red flag in today's weather.

Cleo has even complimented me on the scarf.

After work Monday I had signed up for the early morning kickboxing classes at my gym and also found out they have a new self-defence class that's running. I missed the first two sessions, but I’d joined and would show up to class number three tomorrow.

I was fast and had some strength, but I don't know how to use either of those traits to my advantage, especially not when I'm attacked from behind or when I freeze up with fear. I couldn't feel weak like that again.

I couldn't.

I also hadn't been able to work out since it happened. I tried, too. Turns out a damaged trachea and heavy breathing do not mix. Sunday morning I had coughed up blood again less than a quarter of a mile into my run and ended up walking back to my apartment at a leisurely pace.

I think that was one of the things that upset me most. Not that I was keeping a secret from my friends, not that I had been made to feel so inexcusably weak, or that I was feeling kicked for thinking that my uncoordinated strength would help me in such a situation.

It was that my normal routine, my everyday life had been disrupted just enough to make me feel uncomfortable. I usually run to calm down and relax and just use the time to sort through the thoughts in my head that all seem to untangle when I'm running through parks and past storefronts. Now I can't even do that with my injured throat.

One of my coping mechanisms was stripped from me in the process of my mugging and that was hard for me to come to terms with.

I was looking forward to just spending time with my friends tonight, trying to return to a somewhat normal pattern of life outside of my typical go to the gym and then work and come home.

A sense of normalcy was what I strived for and as I ordered sparkling water and Liam rolled his eyes at Cleo, I felt a puzzle piece fall back into place. One out of thousands, but still, it was a start. My friends would always make fun of me for my choices at a bar.

I just stared at him for a moment as he and Cleo made faces to tease me, and instead of saying anything like they probably expected I would, I shrugged and took the gentle ribbing.

Once we had each been given our drinks we made our way over to a table against a wall. Liam and I sat beside each with Cleo sitting across from Liam and against the wall.

They both taught second grade and it was science project week for their kids and the two of them were so over it. I knew that they both secretly enjoyed their kids and the messes but they also definitely got stressed about their kids and the messes.

Liam was calm and level headed whenever he was out with us, but turned on a charismatic charm around children that had them listening to his every word, doing whatever lesson he'd asked for them to complete without complaint.

Cleo was almost Liam’s opposite, the yang to his yin if you will. While Cleo was chatty and charming with us and with her many suitors, she was a calming presence with her students. She never got riled up with them--near them when they couldn't see her, sure. (She'd often make faces and rub her temples and even let out a silent curse when she was alone in her classroom or walking in an empty hallway).

Cleo was so unyieldingly patient and easy going around her students that I often had trouble wrapping my head around it. How Liam and Cleo could alter their personalities back and forth in rapid succession with such success was a little admirable if not very unusual to me.

I think that's why they became such quick friends when Cleo started at the school. She and Liam are inverses of each other in varying situations and that has resulted in a deep understanding between each of them. Their friendship was absolutely adorable. I would be jealous of it if I didn't already get to be a friend to each of them.

“You look really tired, Ruby,” Cleo eyed me up before taking a sip of her red wine. I narrowed my eyes at her but shrugged a moment later.

“Oh cheers,” I told her and Liam, who had nodded in agreement that I looked tired. “You could just say haggard or some other variation of the word shit.”

“Just saying,” she smiled, undeterred by my comments.

“Has Louis been putting you through the ropes again this week?” Liam asked now as he sipped his drink. He had gotten a little bit of froth on his upper lip but he saw my eyes go to his mouth and immediately wiped it away with the back of his hand before I could say something.

“No,” I shook my head.

Really, work had been wonderfully normal all week. No projects, no weird discrepancies or anything. I still needed to talk to Louis about his stress levels and not opening a fourth location, but he'd not mentioned it all week, so I was giving it some time before I brought it up. Mostly I was still trying to figure out how to bring it up.

“I just haven't been sleeping well,” I said.

A half-truth.

I was sleeping fine. I'd only had one nightmare all week. It was really that I couldn't fall asleep. I didn't feel secure enough to fall asleep and drift off to unconsciousness. I tossed and turned, not actually asleep until I eventually was overtaken by exhaustion in the early hours of the morning.

It helped a bit that I couldn't wake up early to exercise and therefore got to sleep in an extra hour and a half, but it really wasn't that much of a help in the grand scheme of it all.

Oddly enough I didn't feel all that scared as I walked my street or walked in the city. I wasn't afraid to come out with friends tonight. I knew the statistical likelihood of it happening again was so low that I was just my normal state of nervous when I went anywhere.

I had downloaded one of those safe walk apps that you hold and when you let go for a few seconds it calls the cops automatically. It wouldn't stop anything, but I felt minutely better for having it anyway.

It wasn't that I was afraid to leave my house for fear of scary people in the world. I was still considerably bright-eyed about Chicago and the great big world in general.

I was just unsettled. It had become my constant. I was constantly checking over my shoulder, even in broad daylight. It had become my constant companion, the gnawing feeling in my stomach that kept me up at night.

I was in a heightened state at all times, my nerves not really calming down since last Saturday night. I hadn't been able to properly relax, not even in the shower with warm water willing my muscles to loosen and the steam surrounding me begging me to let go of the tension.

I had moments, when Louis would make me laugh or when I was on the train in the morning just seeing the orange sunrise through the dingy windows before it went underground that I'd take a breath and feel normal.

The feeling would be gone before the breath was even released, but that faint glimmer would live in my mind all day even if I couldn't hold onto it like I wanted. I knew my normal was out there. I just couldn't find it in a quantity that I could hold onto.

I was pulled back into the present by Cleo as she laughed at Liam.

“I can't believe I forgot about that!” Cleo said through her laughter.

I'd completely missed whatever story Liam had told, and he was giving me a strange look. He could tell I had been somewhere else in my head. He wasn't upset by it, rather he was just curious.

“One of my students managed to get herself stuck in the broom closet next to my classroom when she got the doors mixed up,” he filled me in. “She didn't even seem to mind that she was stuck. Instead, she just started tidying up the closet. When we realised where she was and got her unstuck, we found her sweeping the tiny space with one of the brooms.”

I laughed at the story once I'd been filled in. I vaguely remember being told about it when it happened. It was not long after Cleo started working there and the whole school went on lockdown when they couldn't place the girl. Cleo has been so nervous, terrified that she would somehow be blamed and get fired.

I forced myself to focus on my friends now, gave myself orders to engage in the conversation and just let my heightened state slip to the back of my mind while I engaged with them. It was as close to normal as I could manage.

I smiled when Liam began talking about a new band he’d found. Liam was one of those people to listen to a song or a CD over and over again until he remembered there was other music out there and then he would feel guilty for being so one-track minded--in some cases literally. He never stopped listening because he was bored though, it was simply because he had remembered something else wonderful or found something new.

The band is from Vancouver and he found them through a friend who'd seen them as an opener for a bigger band. Liam was now very invested in this band--a pop-punk band supposedly. He did promise to send us each the band info later tonight though so that we could listen as well. Cleo and I had each had a pop-punk phase.

“Have you been training for the Chicago Marathon?” Liam asked now. They're each on their second drink while I continued to sip my bubbly water. “I know you ran it last year,” he added.

I shrugged. “It's only a month away and I run around 20 miles daily, but I haven't been marathon training per-say. I haven't quite decided if I should do the race yet or not.”

“Isn't it expensive to sign up so late?” Cleo asked.

“It is,” I nodded. “Marathons are expensive anyway though, so I have enough set aside for it just in case. I just have to make up my mind.”

Liam and Cleo each took that for their answers and nodded. I didn't mention that I was going to sign up this past Sunday but after my attack, I needed to wait to train and then wait to see if I'd been set back at all by the week off.

Now though, with having signed up for morning kickboxing classes I doubted I'd be running the marathon. I wanted to push myself, but maybe it was time to push myself in a different direction, to try something new and challenging in a different right.

“Let me know if you decide to do it,” Liam said. “I'll definitely come down to cheer you on and to make fun of you afterwards when you're feeling too exhausted to do anything.”

“I appreciate that support, Liam,” I nudged him with my arm before he and Cleo start in on what they're going to do with their kids on their field trip to the Field Museum next week.

By the time I was walking home and Cleo texted me saying she’d made it home alright, I could feel myself shedding the normalcy I had pretended to dwell within while I was out with my friends.

I had donned the cloak of fine, just fine Ruby for a few hours tonight and it seemed to work wonders. I was worried that Louis might notice my heightened state after a few days and that Liam and Cleo would catch on as well, but it seemed I was a better actor that I gave myself credit for.

Before I got into my bed that night I checked both front doors and both back doors to make sure they were each locked and even then once I slipped under the covers I felt jittery and unsure of my security.

Eventually, the exhaustion pulled me under and I fell asleep with worried thoughts and a tension still pulling tightly on my shoulders.

“Honestly I don't feel all that great about you participating today while you're injured,” he said. “I recommend you sit out this week's session, you can watch and ask questions, but I'm hesitant to let you work out.”

I made a face and felt my heart start to beat faster at the thought of sitting out another activity because of my attack.

“It's really not that bad,” I appealed, feeling my desperation and trying not to let it sink out into my tone. “The bruising is almost a week old. I've been resting since Saturday. I'm kind of restless to do something at this point.”

“The fact that that green and yellow colouring is from what is almost a week old bruise does not make me feel better,” Brian commented. Even with my darker skin tone, the yellow and green were pretty distinguishable and considerably garish.

“But if you think you're up for it…” he trailed off now, giving me a look. “If anything is even a bit uncomfortable--or if you start coughing--you're done, you're sitting and watching until next week. You got it?”

I nodded.

“Absolutely,” I assured him.

“Okay then,” he gave me a once-over and shook his head, almost as if he was shaking his head in disbelief at himself for allowing me to participate. I knew he was right to be worried, right to be hesitant, the bruising was pretty awful. I just couldn't keep sitting when my mind and body needed me to be moving and working and learning.

“Now you don't have to tell me what happened, but I have a feeling it's why you're here,” Brian said softly, his eyes going from my neck back to my eyes with both scepticism and understanding.

I didn't say anything, I just bit my lip and looked down at my shoes before I met his knowing gaze and nodded.

“You’re not going to be upset once we start pairing up to do demos, are you? Because if you are, that's fine,” he gave me a small smile. “And don't worry that you missed the first two classes. The first was mainly cardio to start getting us into shape to do these moves and the second was half questions half cardio. This is our first demo class.”

“Okay,” I nodded. “I think I'll be okay. I'm mad at myself for not doing anything to stop it more than anything else.”

“That's normal,” Brian gave me a knowing look. “We’ll break up the class with cardio in the middle, so seriously let me know if your throat starts hurting again. I won't stand for letting you get worse on my watch,” he narrowed his eyes for a moment before he gave me another small smile.

I took a deep breath and matched his gaze. “I'll be careful.”

“It's nice to meet you, Ruby. We’re glad you're here,” he said after a moment before giving me a pat on the shoulder as he walked past me and back toward the front of the studio to start the class.

It was the first time all week I had left my house without something covering my neck, or more accurately, covering the bruises on my neck. They had faded substantially but were still not healed.

My voice had been normal since sometime around midday on Tuesday after Louis forced cup after cup of warm tea on me. I could breathe normally, too. The light bruising around my ribs had healed enough that when I took a deep breath it didn't stretch my midsection uncomfortably.

It wasn’t until I brushed my hands against my neck the wrong way or laid awkwardly against my pillow that I would notice the twinge, the soreness.

I was pretty sure I could handle light exercise in the self-defence class. I hoped I could, anyway.

I had spent all day anxious to get here--the good kind of anxious. I wanted to learn and to get better, to learn how to use my body in a way I never had before.

I had expected the class to be packed, but it wasn't. There were only ten of us, including myself and Brian, the instructor. There were women ranging from a few years younger than me to maybe mid-forties.

Brian himself was probably just about my age. He was wearing a blue and yellow Michigan t-shirt which made me smile to myself a bit. The concentration of Michigan alumni in Chicago was pretty large. It made sense, it was a big city and closer than New York. For anyone who wanted to get out and be in the world, this was the place to go.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath as Brian changed the music slightly and then started talking us through our warm up.

The warm-up left me feeling considerably better. I knew the feeling was my endorphins and that I would fall back down after the class. After a few jumping jacks and dynamic stretches, I was fighting the urge to cough, but the rest of me felt so good.

I took a few sips of water after we finished and avoided Brian’s gaze in my direction as I did so. His eyes kept glancing back at me throughout the exercises. I knew he was worried about me, and I knew my throat was hurting a bit, but I soldiered on anyway.

We talked about a few things, like what scared one of the older women about walking to her car at night and that one of the girls who went to college nearby and was terrified to go out at night because she was afraid of sexual assault.

Brian took his time answering questions as he paired each of us off with another member of the class. He paired himself off with me.

“Because I’m the only one I trust to work through some of this with those bruises on your neck,” he whispered in between explaining to Lucy, the college girl, the statistics of sexual assault.

“Not that numbers will make you feel better,” he shrugged. “But sometimes knowledge is power, so before we start the actual self-defence moves, knowing is the first step.”

“We’re going to start today with what to do when you're attacked from behind,” Brian said to the group as he came up beside me. “I’m going to talk Ruby through a move and then the rest of us are going to try it, so watch closely, okay?”

Everyone nodded at him in understanding as he turned to me, and his eyes met mine. I nodded in understanding as well.

“If I'm coming up behind Ruby and I put my hand over her mouth to stifle her cries for help, she's going to grab my wrist and pull it down,” he explained.

He gently placed his hand over my mouth and continued to explain as I wrapped my hand around his wrist. I thought back to that night and how I’d done nothing to really help myself and my resolve to do this outweighed any fear or any sour memory of the event and I zoned into what Brian was saying.

“Now, when Ruby yanks my wrist down she’s also going to bend forward from the hips, right? This will force me to bend with her and it will make me weaker,” he kept on. He gave me a nudge to go ahead and do as he said. So I did.

I pulled his arm down and bent us forward so that he was in a weaker position. I could tell he was giving in a bit for the demonstration, but the move was more than I'd done in real life and I was feeling powerful. One manoeuvre in and I was feeling empowered.

“From here, Ruby can bring her elbow into the side I've left exposed to hold her. She can also bring one of her legs up if she's feeling balanced enough, and if she acts like she's going to kick her own butt she'll end up kicking me in the groin in the process.”

Again he nudged me to go ahead and keep going with the demo. I brought my elbow into his side, not hard, just enough to apply a bit of pressure to his side and show what he was talking about before I balanced myself, took a breath, and brought my leg up, low so that I wouldn't actually hit him, but again, just enough to keep with the demonstration.

“Very good, Ruby. Thank you,” he nodded, I'm sure appreciative that I'd been mindful not to hurt him. He moved back away from me and looked out at the other four pairs.

He let each of them start in on the technique watching each pairing carefully and occasionally amending or critiquing.

“Because this is one of our more basic moves, we’re going to just keep coming back to it until it becomes second nature,” he explained while still at my side. “I don't want any of you to freeze up in fear if anything ever does happen. I want these moves to be instinct, I want you to know that you know what you're doing,” he said.

The rest of the class continued on much like this. Throughout demos, Brian would constantly pause to answer questions and make sure everyone understood.

It was when we hit the cardio section and we're going through burpees and plank jacks and more jumping jacks than I cared to count that my throat felt like it was on fire. I had to pause in the middle of a timed set of high knees to try and quell the feeling as best I could with water.

Brian cut his glance to me, but I hid my pain well enough that he didn't say anything. I'm sure he knew though.

Just before the hour mark and the end of class he had us all go through the basic move again, making sure we still remembered, still could follow through with it before we stretched a bit and he dismissed us until next week.

“You did really well tonight, Ruby,” Brian said as he gathered his things. “And thanks for not kicking me in the groin,” he smirked.

I laughed and picked up my own bag, slinging it over my shoulder. “No problem.”

“How's the throat?” He asked as we headed out of the studio together. He locked it behind him.

“It feels fine.”

“Lying doesn't make it better.”

“It was nothing I couldn't handle,” I assured him as I shrugged on my jacket, knowing that while the sweat was drying on me I would be getting colder. I also knew what September was like here, and I wasn’t about pretending it wasn’t getting colder.

“Take care of yourself, Ruby,” he said as we trekked down the stairs of the gym. “I can tell your athletic, and that you're struggling with what happened in some way. I was glad to see you feel empowered today.”

I made a face at him as we exited the building.

“Yeah, I could tell… You just have to take what happened and learn from it. You can't keep thinking over what didn't happen or what you should've done.”

“Did something happen to you?” I asked and then covered my mouth with my hand in shock that I'd asked that. My eyes went wide and I moved my hand to start apologizing to him. “I'm so sorry,” I backtracked. “That was… you didn't ask me and now I've just… you don't have to-”

He laughed at my babbling, looking down at his shoes, before looking back up at me.

“It's okay,” he told me. “It was my sister, and I was only a few blocks away, too, and never have I felt more powerless.”

“And she's…?”

“She's fine,” he assured me. “But I started teaching the classes back on campus in Ann Arbor because of it. When I moved here I kept the classes going once I found a gym. I just felt like if I could help others what happened to her wouldn't happen to other people.”

“Guilt?” I could see that along with the other emotions quite clearly on his face.

“At first, yeah,” he shrugged. “Now it's now about empowerment. I want you and everyone I teach to feel safe in whatever way they can.”

When he said that I really felt he meant it. Brian seemed like a genuinely decent person. He seemed like he was a straight shooter, as well. He didn’t let me get away with any of the bullshit I was pulling and he also didn’t make me feel like an idiot for trying to pull it in the first place.

I didn’t know if Brian and I would become friends over the course of his class, but I was grateful that I had found his class, that it was him in charge of helping me. I genuinely felt like even if we didn’t become friends that I could trust him. I felt good about my choice to take the classes.

“And to think, I was probably on campus when you were teaching those classes,” I smiled, almost ironically. “I probably could've been better prepared if I'd paid more attention to my safety before now.”

“You went to Michigan?” He asked as we swiped our cards and climbed the stairs for the train.

“Graduated in 2014.”

“2013,” He smiled. “You were there when I taught. Sorry I couldn't have prevented this.”

“It's not your fault,” I assured him, even though I felt like he was more apologizing that it had happened and all and not necessarily taking the blame for it. “But I'm glad I found your class.”

The Northbound Red Line train was pulling up and I made to get on it, noticing that Brian hung back. “I'm heading South, but I'll see you next week, Ruby.”

“See ya, Brian,” I waved over my shoulder as I stepped on the train and headed toward the pharmacy.

I could've walked home from the gym, but I noticed that I was running low on my salve for my bruises and it wouldn't hurt to pick up some lotion while I was out. It was starting to get colder, after all, and my skin was starting to show it, too.

That night when I got home I felt marginally better about myself, but I still checked the locks twice before lying restlessly in bed until the early morning when exhaustion ruled overall and I was pulled into sleep.

#here we are!#another sunday another update #and i'll let you know now: you meet Niall next week!#There's a lot of set-up in this story and you have to wait a bit to meet him #sorry not sorry #fic: oth #fic: only ticket home #1dff #niall horan fanfic #OTH2

17 notes · View notes

korasonata · 3 years ago

Text

Joe and Cleo model stream quotes Part 9: The Legend of the oWo

Yes, this is the legendary oWo voice stream. I’m not even kidding I have never had such a hard time transcribing something ever, this whole thing was a TRIP. This was a 5 hour stream and they literally do this voice for the entirety of the last 3 hours, and I swear to god that is not even an exaggeration. This was a TIME to transcribe, but I have made a list of highlights (extremely cut because I would honestly just copy paste the whole stream if I could).

Link to the video is here: https://m.twitch.tv/videos/1168998958

Favourite moments of Joe and Cleo crafting streams part 9! Transcriptions below the cut! (Time stamps above each quote)

00:32:32

Cleo (talking about Carol Anne from Poltergeist): She’s the— the name of the little girl that um…that got su— I’m gonna say sucked into the tv? But basically she was sucked into the afterlife.

Joe: No, she was sucked into an afterlife adjacent plane that straddled our reality and the next. They are very clear about this in the film.

Cleo: *flipping Joe off in British* …Oh, sorry. *flipping Joe off in American* Gotta get the right gesture for the right county.

—

01:30:21

Cleo: This has actually, like, turned into one of my most favourite days of the week, because it’s just like I get to talk to Joe for hours. And then I just get to do stupid crafts. So you know.

Joe: *noises of agreement* And I get to talk to Cleo for hours! Making me even more lucky than her! And it’s hard to think of someone more lucky than someone who gets to talk to me for hours. But somehow it’s me.

—

01:52:24

Joe: One of my favourite lines from Rick and Morty is, uh, there’s this alien invasion on Earth and Rick is just like (Rick voice) “Uh, gear up Morty. We gotta go to the Pentagon…no. No, don’t get excited. It’s— it’s— it’s the shitty one on Earth.” *realization*…Oh wait, I can’t swear in these…*trying to pretend he didn’t just swear* It’s like I love the implication that space has a really good Pentagon.

Cleo: You heard it. You all heard it. We all heard it. We’re not gonna say anything, but we all heard it.

Joe: Sorry…

—

The oWo Saga Begins…

—

02:35:10

Joe (reading chat): “I love when JoWo Hills shows up.”

Cleo (speaking oWo): JoWo!

Joe (speaking oWo): JoWo!

Cleo: JoWo! JoWo the Hills!

Joe: Hello CleoWo!

Cleo: Hewo JoWo! How are you?

Joe: I am doing well! Thank you for asking!

Cleo: Are you? I do good! JoWo. I am happy with my buddy.

Joe: I had a delightful muffin!

Cleo: I am happy with my fren JoWo! Wee!

Joe (normal voice): I didn’t actually eat a muffin, but I thought like what would a cute version of me do? And it’s like probably eat a muffin or something adorable.

Cleo (normal voice): You’re already adorable.

Joe: Now I’m regretting not getting a muffin. I’m like, why didn’t I live the life of my cutest self?

Cleo: You be your cutest self, Joe!

Joe: I know!

Cleo (speaking oWo): You be joWo! (Reading chat and laughing) This is terrifying!

Joe (speaking oWo): I need to goWo buy a muffin.

Cleo: *high pitched oWo* Oh no! No JoWo! Don’t go JoWo!

Joe: (laughing) I think this is my least favourite thing we’ve ever done, and I love it.

—

02:36:55

Joe (speaking oWo): My name is JoWo.

Cleo (speaking oWo): I know! I’m CleoWo! Joe is— JoWo is my BEEEEEEEEEEEEEST fren.

Joe: We like to hang out! And bake cakes! And have parties for all our other BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEST frens.

Cleo: And we do— and we do cwafts togevah!

Joe: I hope that we can do crafts with PearlecentMOOwooon!

Cleo: MOOwOooon?! Oh noWooo!! (Dying) I’m sorry, I’ll stop. I’ll stop.

(Foreshadowing: she does in fact not stop)

—

02:46:39

Joe (reading chat): “Joe recently ranted about how he doesn’t make content for children, yet hewe we awe!”

Cleo (mimicking in very high pitched voice): Hewe we awe! Oh noooooooo!! Awwwwwwwe!

Joe: *wheezing*

Cleo: *laughing* It’s just that noise that gets Joe! It’s just like Awwwwwwwee!!

Joe: *through tears of laughter* I just—

Cleo: Oh nOOOoooo!!

Joe: *cry laughing* I makes me so happy!

Cleo: I just so happy by this noise! Oh noooo! *sounds of Joe wheezing* JoWo why are you like this? Oh no JoWo!! *Cleo wheezing*

Joe: I don’t KnoWo…

Cleo: You don’t knoWo? Oh no JoWo….

Joe: And I’m terrified to learn!

—

02:47:52

Joe (reading chat): FloofyCat says “I love this, it’s fine.” But with a name like that, like, I think we found our target audience!

Cleo (speaking oWo): Oh no FloofyCat!! Oh you gonna be owr first freeeeend!

Joe: *whimpering in the background*

Cleo (normal voice): The fact is I can hear Joe having a little mini meltdown as— as I go further on, that makes it worth it.

Joe (rocking back and forth): I’m just gently rocking. I don’t know how much people are looking at the webcam cause it’s very small still but like, I just kinda like— *quietly giggling* self-soothing, it’s like— it’s fine it’s—

Cleo: Awwwwwww! Oh no JoWo! Are you sad JoWo? Cleo make it ALLLLL bedda!!

Joe (through sobs): I’m not used to experiencing strong emotions that aren’t despair, and so my body is just like “Uh, wHAT?!” *sounds of Cleo dying*

—

02:48:40

Cleo (laughing while reading chat): “This is very weird to watch while high on allergy meds” *in a very haunting high pitched voice* Oh nooo! We can help you!

Joe (snickering): But not with your allergies, please seek out professional help from your doctor!

Cleo (creepy little girl voice): Ohhhh, I can help you with your allergies! You won’t like it. But I could help you! *maniacal snickering*

Joe (high pitched voice): That’s like the creepiest thing!

Cleo (laughing): It was supposed to be, Joe!!

Joe: It’s like (creepy little girl voice) You know, sinuses are like tubes, but we can add more entrances! Through your cheeks!

Cleo (creepy little girl voice): We can add more existses tooooooo! It’ll be fIIIIIIIiiiinE! *maniacal snickering*

—

02:50:24

Joe: I feel like I need to, um, I need to like— part of the problem is I keep trying to do the voice while I’m also trying to think of funny things to say. I need to like practice the voice independently. So I can get it.

Cleo (oWo voice): Oh no JoWo….is fiiiiiiiiiiine. You don’ hav to pwactice! You just feew it in your heeeeart, JoWo. *Joe laughing in the background* Eviil!! *maniacal laughing*

*Very loud sounds of Enderman screaming*

Cleo: FU—*loud laughing*

Joe (laughing): I’m just— I’m just imagining clinging to a railing over an abyss and CleoWo is like “so what your feeewings, you know it to be truwoooo!”

Cleo: You know it to be twuuuuue JoWo!! Thank you Phessler for the twwEnty gif subs!! It makes Cleo hAppyyyyy!! Cleo’s going to do the rest of the stream like theees. It’s fiiiiiiiiiiine! Joe is going to do the rest of the stream like—

Joe: *tears literally running down his face* Like I really need to glue stuff, but like my tears are just gonna drip on it—

—

03:26:19

Joe: Ok, so I have to actually get up—

Cleo: You have to go…

Joe: No no no! I was gonna say, I— if I go get more tissues and I have to go, um— the paper— the next page that I need to cut is not within grabbing distance. So, if you actually wanna do this for another half hour, 40 minutes—

Cleo: I can!

Joe: Could you cover for me for like 3 or 4 here?

Cleo: Of course I can! I can always cover for you, Joe.

—

03:34:18

*Joe dying in the background*

Cleo: *laughing* That’s it, he’s off again. It doesn’t take much. No it doesn’t take much. We do it cause we love Joe. That’s why I torture Joe. Because of love.

Joe (finally calm): Thank you CleoWo.

Cleo (oWo voice continues): You vewy wewcome JoWo!

Joe (Beetlejhost voice): I, ah, appreciate all of the love. That ah, you give me. You know, even though ya, you shoWo it in your oWon way—

Cleo (singing oWo): In my own waaaay!

Joe (Beetlejhost voice): You know it’s— it’s really, ah, meaningful.

Cleo: Is trAUMAAAAA based wuv!!

—

03:40:28

Joe (oWo voice): I forgive yoWooo.

Cleo: Thank you JoWo! I do appreciate it! I appreciate your sympathy!

Joe: I appreciate yoWoo. You awe good frend

Cleo: You are a vewy good frend to Cweo! ZombieCweo likes JoWo!

Joe: Yay!

Cleo: Vewy fwendly!

Joe: It the highwight of my dayway!

—

03:47:27

Joe: I can’t let ZombieCleoWo dowoWn. That would give her a froWown.

Cleo: BeetleJhoWost needs to know that Cleo is— is just— ha— (cut off)

Joe: …is just what?

Cleo: Is just happy. When you suffer.

Joe: Yay!

Cleo: Yaaaaaaay! It’s not just you, though, it’s everybody. It’s fiiiiiine! It’s fiiine.

Joe: *laughing* CleoWo is taking the “sad” out of “sadist”

Cleo: *cackling*

—

03:48:38

Joe (Beetlejhost voice): Hey, ah, there Cleo. It sounds like you kinda reached inside yourself and found, ah, a certain truuuWuth that you, ah, hadn’t confronted before.

Cleo (oWo voice): I am just— I am just the cuUUTest widdle murdewer there EEever was! Ever ever!

#hermitcraft #hermitblr #zombie cleo #zombiecleo #joehills #joe hills

57 notes · View notes