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pixiemage · 2 years ago

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Today I realized that Ranboo’s name was the first I ever googled from the DSMP…before I even knew what Dream SMP was.

On January 14th 2021, my family was sitting in a live music bar on our way to Nashville. We’d been driving for hours from home to spend a week in the city and we had stopped to visit the bar because a friend of my mom’s was apparently playing in the band. But it had been a long trip already and my adhd was making it feel worse. I was exhausted and everything was too loud and I didn’t really want to be there…but I looked up and saw that some Minecraft video of some sort was playing up on the TV over the bar. (I kind of assumed it was live, and it was, though why a Minecraft stream was playing in a bar like that was beyond me.) I’d been feeling kind of overwhelmed by the volume and environment of the bar - I don’t usually enjoy bars much anyway, let along after being on the road all day - but seeing something as familiar as Minecraft in a place where I felt like I didn’t belong was kind of comforting. It was nice, even though I didn’t know who it was on the screen yet.

(This was at a point where the only people I knew from Minecraft were Tobuscus and Dan TDM and Grian and Mumbo, none of whom I’d watched in a long time. I didn’t get into Hermitcraft until nine months later in the autumn of that year, and it was a few more months before I branched out into watching MCC and Traffic Life and dipping my toes into the worlds of the Dream SMP and Empires and beyond.)

I couldn’t hear the TV, but I had AirPods in my pocket and a phone with full charge…so I tried to figure out who it was so I could listen along. All I could see was a hand, a pink hand with a red sleeve and a white cuff. I waited for a while and eventually managed to spot some sort of pig character in a crown when he opened his inventory, but it wasn’t anyone I’d ever seen before. All I knew was that he was working his way through a woodland mansion, but that could have been anyone and I wasn’t sure if googling “pig king Minecraft streamer” would yield anything.

(This was before I knew who it was, before I knew that searching for that phrasing alone would have given me exactly the answer I was looking for.)

But then another player walked onto the screen - an enderman hybrid character whose player tag read “Ranboo”.

Now, I’d never heard of Ranboo before. (If I had I would have watched him much sooner.) But I took a chance and googled his name along with a few keywords describing the other player…and “Technoblade” came up pretty quickly as an associated streamer. A little more perusing led me to Techno’s channel on YouTube, led me to his stream…and I spent half the night sitting at that table with Techno and Ranboo in my ears, more than grateful for the bit of comfort it provided on a day when I was so tired and more than a little overwhelmed.

I still didn’t know who they were then, still had no idea that they were both creators I would come to absolutely love. I watched only a portion of a single stream, just one in a million, and I didn’t return to watching Minecraft again until I leapt into Hermitcraft almost a year later. But something about that night stuck with me. I never forgot it. I think it spoke volumes about how such a simple thing as sharing a game you enjoy can help more than you’d expect. It says something about ripple effects, about unexpected outcomes, about the ways you might touch other peoples’ lives without realizing it.

And now here I am, over a year and a half later, thinking back on that night and sometimes wondering why I didn’t keep watching when I got home…why I didn’t look them up sooner? Lord knows I would have loved the Dream SMP even back then. Lord knows I would have loved Techno’s stand-alone videos even without the SMP connection. I watched the potato war trilogy for the first time this week and I can’t believe I didn’t seek it out sooner.

But even if it took a while for me to get there, now I find myself grateful for the fact that I’m enjoying what they create now. Even if I’m a bit late to the party, I’m still grateful for the smiles and the laughter and the storytelling I’m discovering today.

And most of all I’m grateful - eternally grateful - for whoever turned on Techno’s Minecraft stream on January 14th in that Nashville bar. It was a bright light in a really rough day, and it’s stuck with me ever since. But ever more - thank you Techno, and thank you Ranboo, for making me smile when I needed it most.

#and thank you to every other creator I’ve discovered by extension because the amount of joy I get from you all is immeasurable #MCYT #DSMP #Ranboo #Technoblade #Dream SMP #Someone asked me once about my first exposure to the DSMP #and I always say Manhunt #but in truth it was far earlier #i just sometimes forget that I didn’t have to KNOW it was from the DSMP #in order to say it was my first exposure to that world #ADHD

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the-cooler-philza · 3 years ago

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Warden [wawr-dn] pt. 1 (?)

noun; a person in charge of protecting persons, animals, or things. A protector.

Other words for Warden: Guardian, Caretaker, Overseer

Would you believe Mumbo if he told you that it started on a Tuesday? Monday, now that would just make sense really, but a Tuesday? It could have even been a Thursday problem, but no, it was a Tuesday problem. It was annoying.

Because the problem started on a Tuesday and Mumbo wasn’t even sure what the problem is. He knew something was off (wrong if he were to be so dramatic), but it wasn’t as simple as pointing at a moved blue print and going ‘Aha!’

If he were to even guess what was off (wrong), he would say that he was feeling annoyed at the fact that he could hear Grian’s rockets early in the morning. And really, who wouldn’t be annoyed at hearing someone spamming rockets at unreasonable hours of the morning? It was impolite is what it is, and Mumbo had had it! He couldn’t stand the loud fweee going off at, jeez, 3 AM. Who does that?

Pulling up his communicator and groggily staring at the rather dim screen, his fingers pressed buttons, and he was sure he was pressing the right ones but the clicking sound he always had on was making him squint and get even more annoyed. Really, why must everything be so much this early? The sound of the mobs outside were annoying as well but it was the constant fweee that was making him want to punch a hole in Treesa.

<MumboJumbo> Grian if you keep spamming rockets I will break my peace, love, and plants and make you stop

<ImpulseSV> Mumbo????

<Grian> MUMBO??

<MumboJumbo> Is that a no

<Grian> I’ll stop!! Are you okay?

<MumboJumbo> Im going back to sleep

<ImpulseSV> Grian what did you do????

<Grian> I DONT KNOW????

Growling at the communicator still pinging, Mumbo slaps his hand over the silence option and fiddles for a few more seconds before turning it off completely. Turning over with a huff, he drifts off to sleep. The sound of fweee’ing fireworks stopping within a minute of the last message. It was still loud, but he could deal with it. It was always loud in Boatem.

Waking up later that morning did bring a sense of mortification and quick messages to apologize for his gruffness the night before. A red blush painting the back of neck like a tomato (He wasn’t a real tomato, thankfully. He would rather not juice another soul out of a hermit). But Grian simply waved him off, saying that everyone had their off days. But it still left Mumbo feeling on edge, like something was wrong with the fact that he had snapped at Grian. Which made sense! It did. No one wanted to be rude or mean to their friends, it was just natural that Mumbo felt awful that he had snapped.

But the problem was that Mumbo didn't feel bad that he had snapped at Grian. He felt a tad embarrassed, really, but not particularly bad. It was like biting into cotton balls and tearing it, or a fork scratching a ceramic plate. Not bad but so very wrong, like the very core of his being was repulsed by the action. But, no, that didn’t make sense did it? If he was repulsed by the action, that meant he felt bad right? Right? How is this so confusing? It really shouldn’t be! But it was.

Taking a big inhale, Mumbo leaned back and stared at the wood ceiling and glowberry vines all over the inside of Treesa. The sounds of outside were muffled but he could still hear Scar laughing and Grian screaming after him. He could hear Pearl shouting something to Impulse and Impulse shouting after her, he could hear goats screaming. He could hear the sound of hooves of cows and the furnace in Treesa hissing.

He, he could hear a lot.

Furrowing his brows, Mumbo paused to listen and think. He was a human, and had always been one, but something was off and it seemed he had pinpointed the exact thing that had screamed wrong to him.

Mumbo could hear far better then he could ever hear before this.

That, wasn’t normal. Was it? Humans hearing got worse over time, not better right? The only time Mumbo had really heard of someone’s hearing getting better the way his did was due to either magic or being a hybrid, neither of which he had been doing lately. But, that’s not really true is it? Mumbo had done some magic recently. He had eaten Grian’s soul and that had to be magic, right? That must be it. He must have gotten Grian’s hearing or something similar.

With that mystery solved, Mumbo grinned and went back to doing what he had originally planned on doing before this whole mystery had happened. He had a rope bridge to make.

It wasn't until a few days later that he had stopped to actually consider that he had been angrier then he usually would have been. Irrationally so. Of course, like all his usual blunders. This wasn't something he considered until well after it would have been important information to think of. Because the issue is, he had only considered this after punching Zedaph in the face. And Xisuma that one time. Also Doc. And maybe he had punched Tango and Ren in the same day within the same hour, but hey! Whos counting? Mumbo is, he’s counting very much.

See, with Zedaph, it made sense. Zedaph had put him into a small container of a room with a bunch of strange objects, asked him even stranger questions, then acted like Mumbo didnt know his words well. Mumbo did, thank you very much. Adjectives were descriptive words, straight from the scientist's mouth himself! But then! Then! He had the audacity to say that Mumbo lived there now. In a half drowned small container with a chicken and constant noises. It made Mumbo feel himself bristle in indignation. When he had gotten out, Zedaph went to say something to him, but Mumbo hadn't even listened before smashing his fist into Zedaph’s face and storming off back to Boatem. Looking back at it, however, made Mumbo wince.

Then Xisuma had come to talk to Mumbo about derpcoin tm at god knows what time of night, and Mumbo had lost his patience when Xisuma had implied that it would be better business for Harmless Harvest if Mumbo did so. Mumbo had punched Xisuma in the fins and threw a ender pearl to get away from that. Mumbo had stopped using his Elytra after finding fireworks much too loud for his liking.

Then there was Doc who had come around the shops gloating about goats or something, Mumbo didn’t even know what he had said before he found his fist in Doc’s face. Something about Doc just pissed Mumbo off so much that he couldn't help himself.

Ren and Tango, on the other hand, had been shopping of all things before Mumbo had chased them off. He didnt even want them to be gone! He just had felt an overwhelming feeling of anger and need to scare them off and he had. It made him feel off kilter and on edge anytime a hermit would come close to him.

The others were noticing and Mumbo didnt know if he could take a conversation at the moment. Much less an intervention. So he just sucked it up, sent some private messages of apologizes and lied about being pranked and thinking it was them.

All of them had said it was okay and that they understood. It was wrong. It wasn’t okay and they didn’t understand. But they weren’t angry, and that was enough. It was enough.

Now if only Mumbo could actually trim his nails and stopped the odd feeling in his temple. His nails had grown long enough to cut into the wood of his chests if he scratched at them, and his head had a constant ache now a days. But it was fine.

It had to be fine. Because if it wasn't he had to talk to someone about it and that's the last thing he wants to do right now.

So much so that he had an idea for the next meeting that Boatem has planned. Humming a tune to himself, a one note tune might he add, he began to make notes of what he wanted to make. It took most of the night, and he had to make some quick time crunch calculations if he had the time to actually do this, but he had a delightful blue print and name tags.

The actual construction was relatively easy, there were a few hiccups as there usually is, but it was surprisingly easy to throw himself into a fun plan for his friends. The minecarts in just the right position and the timing perfectly done.

It was a thing of beauty when his friends had delightfully figured out what he had made them. Grian doubly so, seeing as half the idea came from him. It made Mumbo feel like he made it up to the small Avian for snapping at him, even if Grian had said it was already alright.

Mumbo was fine to stand back and listen to them talk. Sure it was loud, but it was day time and that was fine. Their laughter was the only thing keeping him from leaving, they were happy and content and that was enough for him, but they clearly wanted him there. Even if they joked that robot him was the better CEO of boatem. A small rumble in the back of his throat went unheard by himself and everyone else.

Of course, everything went to hell in a hand basket within minutes of this perfect moment. As a single creeper and a kinetic death sent Mumbo into an outrage.

It went something like this.

The cement powder fell out of the way and a glowing sign stood proud in quartz, BTM. The words “simplify” on Grian’s tongue before Mumbo spotted the green out of the corner of his eye, instantly zeroing in on it and stepping back. His shoulders rising up and a low sound building up in his throat.

Pearl screamed “creeper!” and Grian hysterically backed up screeching “This wasn’t part of the plan!”

In another world, Pearl stepped forward and killed the Creeper with her flame sword as Grian flew into a wall and died of Kinetic energy after the creeper already died.

In this world, Pearl was on the other side of the room and had backed up with Mumbo and Scar. In this world, Grian had backed up hysterically, shouted “This wasn’t a part of the plan!” and died of Kinetic energy before the creeper died. In this world, something wasn’t right with Mumbo.

In the other world we had discussed, Mumbo kept his Peace, Love, and Plants motto until the very last seconds of that world.

In this one, Mumbo didn’t.

The Creeper had made a bone chilling hiss and lunged after Grian, who with wide eyes, flung himself backwards and hit his head off the side of the wall. His last words reaching Mumbo’s senses as they were abruptly cut off, not even a choked sound leaving the avian’s mouth before he was killed.

It felt like something snapped in Mumbo’s very core. The sense of wrongness condensing into a glass stick that shattered and left jagged pieces inside his lungs. Every inhale and exhale grating against this wrongness as Mumbo stared at the creeper, the rest of the boatem’s voices nothing more then background noise as the creeper turned to look Mumbo in the eyes. The green creature taking a step back, its fur puffing up as it shrunk down before Mumbo’s stare.

It cowered before him, and Mumbo thought good. Let the monster cower. Cowering would be this cowardly creatures last actions.

In the end, it took less then a second after Grian’s death for Mumbo to do what came naturally, less then a second for the monster to cower and for Mumbo to feel the shattered wrongness.

Mumbo leaned forward, opened his mouth, and roared.

The room faded to black, pulses of what could only be a heartbeat could be felt in the room. Every beat another tik and another tok, as Boatem could hear the sounds of growls and whines and hisses. They could not see anything. They couldn’t see what was happening, and if they could, they would have screamed. And one of them did, a small Avian who was not effected by the darkness effect because he had only just gotten there.

Maybe that is why it stopped, and maybe that is why, as one, they all checked their communicators when they heard the ping of a notification.

The pulsing didn’t stop, the heartbeat was still there. But it was calm, it was quiet.

“Mumbo, are you okay? Was that you?”

“Mumbo, I thought you weren’t planning on killing anything this season?”

“Mumbo?”

There wasn’t an answer, and when the darkness effect cleared, there wasn’t anyone there to answer them.

Grian never said a word of what he saw that day, and when pressed, all he would begin to say is that Mumbo needed help. Nothing more, nothing less.

#mumbojumbo #grian #hermitcraft #mcyt #writing #okay look this is a fanfic thats not polished its not good but I wanted to drop this and then edit later for Ao3 #Warden Mumbo #No I will not explain myself yes this was to test writing in Mumbo's voice thanks #SoulKeeper: Catch a soul and keep it

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skystarry75 · 3 years ago

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My favorite HC9 quotes so far.

All of these will be out of context and out of order! Also mostly Pearl, Gem, Impulse and Cleo because their adventures on the first day were hilarious!

Cleo-Why do you do this to me? I've got the plague!

Scar- It's because I made a "That's what she said" joke and they threw me in...

Scar- How do I make it in hardcore 50 hours without dying and I can't even make it 5 seconds now?

Grian- They have 8 million subscribers these two...

Impulse- Behind you Gem! (later) Impulse- Behind you Gem! What is wrong with this place?! (even later) Impulse- Behind you Gem! Why is this becoming a thing?! (Eventually) Gem- CREEPER! CREEPER! CREEPER! CREEPER! Behind me! Behind me!

Joe- Wait, do I have a mustache? Oh! I have a mustache! I forgot!

Cleo- Well that sounds stupid and dangerous. (a few seconds later) Do you want a hand? Cause that sounds like fun.

Gem- You’re on thin ice Pearlescentmoon... Pearl- No I’m on grass actually.

Impulse- Go back outside... they won’t expect us coming!

Impulse- Now who’s in charge! Cleo- They are...

XB- There’s people dying to things that they got no business taking on right at the moment. Okay, that’s all I’m saying! I’m not gonna say what they was dying to, but they’re dying to things they have absolutely no business fighting right now.

Pearl- There’s a cat music disc. Meow.

Pearl- Are you alright? (Impulse dies) Cleo- I don’t think he’s alright.

Pearl- We’re all emitting particles like we haven’t taken a shower in 3 weeks.

Gem- You know we have to actually mine now? And do normal stuff?

Pearl- (calmly) There’s a creeper behind you.

Mumbo- Hey, look, you do realize that I can kill things this season bud, and we’re in a small hole together.

Xisuma- Let’s get you a bed Scar...

Grian- We’re gonna summon the Scar.

Grian- Mumbo, we missed Scar’s death!

Pearl- 🎵 I can show you the world! 🎵 WHEEEE! (lands in water) Impulse- 🎵 I will show you the world as well! 🎵 (dies of fall damage)

Pearl- Look at gem finding all the big holes on the server

Cleo- Impulse, they’re babies. They don’t understand.

Gem- You’re the best! Impulse- I love all this positive reinforcement! I can’t handle it!

Gem- Am I lost? Impulse- No Cleo- Yes

Cleo- Strong independent coward, that’s what we like to see.

Impulse- We need to put a sign on you that says “Will stop for coal”

I think I’m gonna leave it there... Because gosh dang, there are so many good quotes! I didn’t even touch the mountain expedition!

#hermitcraft 9

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hmshermitcraft · 3 years ago

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Duality AU, part 7! (Its a pleasure to be back!)

[No Eyes - Mixed POVs]

~Intro~

After a few months of practicing and pining hell, Mumbo has about 60% mastered the duality effect. They have love and support from their family and the rest of the Petals, (which now includes Zloy, Pix, and Keralis! ✨yay✨, Mumbo has MORE crushes and is now even deeper in pining hell), and now it's time to celebrate! Everyone is down in the hub, and having an official party.

~Tango

Tango, who thankfully brought the drinks and is in charge of speeches, finishes his make out with Grian and Zedaph and goes to see his friend Mumbo. He sees it shaking and playing with flowers in their hands, and immediately gets Bdubs, Keralis and Scar to help them out.

~Keralis

"Bumbo, What's wrong? You know that we're right here for you when you need us, right?"

Mumbo nodded his head, still fidgeting with the flowers.

"Then what's the problem? Tango was worried about you, that's why he called us over here." At this point, Bdubs and Scar work together to find the Grian and the rest of the Petals. He notices the flowers in Mumbo's hand. "Buttercups! Those are my favorite type of flowers! May I please have one?" Mumbo nodded their head, Before realizing that Keralis couldn't. "∴ᔑ╎ℸ ̣ !" It shouts with much more force than it meant to. "sorry Keralis, I meant wait. These flowers can't come off unless I pull them off. I grew them myself."

Keralis waited a moment, then responded. "Okay, Bumbo. Just as long as it doesn't hurt. But besides that, why are you hiding here?"

"Let me get you that buttercup, Then I'll tell you." Fae passes over the flower.

"I was nervous."

~NPG

Just then, Bdubs, Scar, Iskall and NPG walked in with a blanket and a few cups of tea, to help cheer Mumbo up. "How are you holding up, Mumbo?" Mumbo shrugged, fixing up fae's sleeve (And being flustered bc Scar was Too Close to them). "I'm doing fine now, thanks to you all. still a bit nervous, but nothing I can't handle." Right after they said that, a few Alliums sprouted on Mumbo's hand. They gave NPG flowers, and each of the others their (I guess assigned?) flower as well, then rushed out of that side room and rejoining the party, NPG quickly following.

~Evil Hermits (that are part of the petals)

Ex, Six, and Hels were in ANOTHER flirting battle, and Six sees Mumbo twirl into a dress and sit down. (It's like one of those cartoony things where they spin into their superhero outfits, that sort of thing)

"Pause the music!" The jazzy music that they battle to slows to a stop, and All three of them huddle to discuss a plan.

-smol time skip, like 10 minutes later-

Now joined by X (who was promised xe wouldn't do any flirting xemself,) Keralis, Iskall and Joe, they have a solid plan. X changes into the planned suit and tie, walks over to the most empty part of the room, and grabs a spare mic and 3 beanbag chairs. Xe waits for the others to give the signal that they're ready, places the beanbags in the center of the little area, stands next to them, and taps the microphone.

"Would MumboJumbo, Pixlriffs, and ZloyXP come to this area of the room and sit in these beanbag chairs?"

All three mentioned people sit, thinking the same thing:

This is gonna get weird.

[I'm gonna put this cliffhanger here lol. There are only 2 parts left :)]

~ Doodle

And it did get weird, though not in the way they expected

#hermitshipping #ask #mumbo tag #hels tag #ex tag #badtimes tag #npg tag #iskall tag #bdoubleo tag #scar tag #zloyxp tag #pixlriffs tag #keralis tag #mumhelexbadscarbdubsnpgskallzloypixlis #doodle anon

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votederpycausemufins · 3 years ago

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taking a break from my other fics to finally writing this one. It's for the Metal Heart's series, taking some aspects i had featured in Summoning Family, but want to write about in a non-crossover fashion.

More Than One

Grumbot tried not to keep shifting in his seat as he wrote in the book Mumbo had given him. He was sick, and Grum’s dad was taking care of him. Jrum of course just wanted to play, so Grum offered to take his daddy’s place at the Pacific meeting. He had shown Iskall the notes his daddy had written in the book and now the other redstoner was trying to replicate Mumbo’s messy blueprints.

As they did that, they asked Grum questions about the blueprints, having Grum make notes of anything the two of them weren’t sure of. Which was pretty much just anything that Iskall wasn’t sure of since Grum was absolutely clueless when it came to redstone. And the more questions that Grum was asked and couldn’t answer, the more frustrated he became.

Grum was built to be asked questions and give answers. That was his main purpose. Sure, now he was just supposed to be a kid, and he seemed to be good at building, but he still felt like he needed to do this. “Hey, are you doing alright?”

At Iskall’s voice, Grum looked up from the book and to his auncle. “I am feeling stressed and agitated.” Was his reply, the words falling out before he could think about it.

“Hey, don’t worry about it.” Iskall replied, pausing on their work. “I mean I’m frustrated enough trying to figure out what Mumbo’s notes mean and I work with plenty of redstone. You’re young enough that I’m sure it’s tougher for you.”

Grum frowned. “But Jrum can understand redstone just fine.”

“That he can.” Iskall nodded. “But he’s not you. Grian’s been around longer than Mumbo has and he can’t wrap his head around it all. It’s fine if you don’t understand it all.”

The bot reluctantly agreed, but he couldn’t help the feeling that not knowing was a bad thing, especially after all the questions he left unanswered that just left him feeling wrong. Iskall didn’t ask any more questions thankfully, but it just left Grum to sit and stew, slowly feeling worse and worse.

When they finally wrapped up, Iskall helped Grum back to Mumbo’s base, carrying the bot as they flew to the jungle. As they flew, Grum finally felt a bit calmer as the wind rushed past them. He finally stopped dwelling on the things he felt he had to do. That was only when people asked questions, needed information, stuff like that. But just flying, or spending time at home, that felt better.

His dads weren’t looking for a mayoral robot, they were just looking for a kid. And Grum could be a kid. Sort of. As Iskall landed at the ancient ruins that was Mumbo’s base, Grum started worrying again. Jrum also seemed to get the being a kid thing down. He was always playing games, reading picture books and running around. Grum didn’t really do much of that.

“Hi sweetie.” Grian said as he picked Grum up into his arms. “Did you have fun with Iskall?”

Grum wasn’t entirely sure how to answer that at first, sort of struggling through it. “Well… Redstone is tough, even Iskall said so. And well… it was frustrating, but I did get to write down a bunch of notes. I know Daddy probably can’t look at them and help, but that can be for later, right?”

Grian nodded with a smile that made Grum feel better. “I’m sure he can do that when he’s feeling better. Now, I’m sure you’re tired from helping out. I’ll make you something for dinner and then you can go to bed.”

Grum agreed and then waited until his dad came back with some things for him to eat, like redstone, quartz and stone. The bot happily ate his meal and then started to head off to bed, but then stopped to look back to Grian. “Um, dad?”

Grian looked up from what he was working on. “Yeah Grum? What do you need?”

The bot fidgeted a bit before finally asking his question. “Could you maybe read me a story?” Because he knew that was a thing kids were supposed to ask for, and right now he should be doing kid stuff.

Grian beamed at the request, and before long, Grum was in bed, starting to charge as his dad sat next to him in a chair, reading a book about a chicken and a fox. Grum could tell that some things were being changed a little for an extra flair, like the chicken knowing a certain superhero who was definitely not Grian. But that just made it feel more natural, and soon Grum drifted off to sleep.

And woke up hours later with a nightmare.

Grum didn’t remember much after waking up. He remembered he yelled, waking Jrum up who had come to bed sometime after him. He remembered Grian racing in with a sword, which just scared Grum more. He didn’t know why, it just did. He remembered the sword being put away and then being picked up, but then after that, nothing really.

His best guess right now was that he was still tired, probably wasn’t plugged in right. His nightmare drained what little battery he had left and then by the time Dad had picked him up, he lost power completely. It looked like after that, he was put back to bed, seeing as how he was plugged in again, now fully charged, but what was concerning was that he wasn’t in his normal bed.

Instead of being in the room that he and Jrum shared at their daddy’s base, Grum instead found himself in the large bed Mumbo claimed as his own. Usually if Dad was around after working late into the night, he would also use that bed, and it was even big enough for all four of them to be on there at once. But right now, it felt much larger with Grum being the only one there.

Unplugging himself, Grum crawled out of the bed before making his way to the main area of the base to hopefully find one or even both of his dads. He was glad to see Mumbo sitting down at a table with a plate of food in front of him. The man was still a little pale, but compared to how he looked the other day, Grum could tell his daddy was feeling much better.

“Hi there Grum. How are you feeling this morning?”

“Better.” Grum replied with a smile.

“No more nightmare monsters laughing at you?” Mumbo asked, which just confused the bot.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you told Gr- your dad and I about the nightmare you had. I’m guessing based on your response that you didn't have it again.”

Grum wracked his brain, but couldn’t think of any nightmares. “I guess so. I don’t even remember having it the first time. Or even telling you.”

“Well, you did seem pretty tired and shaken up.” Mumbo said. “I’m sure it’s actually a good thing you don’t remember much.”

But Grum wasn’t as sure as his daddy sounded. He didn’t like not knowing. He was supposed to know things. But, that was more like the mayoral part of him. He had been trying to be more like a regular kid, so maybe that was part of it all? He just wished he knew more about what a kid was supposed to do.

“Daddy? Where’s Jrum?” Grum asked, because if there was one thing he knew, it was that Jrum seemed to have things all figured out.

“He’s out at the building area.” Mumbo replied. “And if he’s not there, well he’s most likely at Scar’s village.”

Grum nodded. “Okay. I think I’m gonna find him to go play.” And Mumbo smiled, which made the bot feel like he had gotten something right. From there, it was just a quick trip down to his Daddy’s old hobbit hole, taking a minecart over to his dad’s one, and they going along the edge of the lake to Scar’s village.

Grum figured the village would be the first place to check because it was closer, and if Jrum was there, his trip would be shorter. The village was pretty big though, and it took longer than he thought to search through it, eventually making him wish he had just listened to his daddy and search the build area. At this point though, Grum had an idea. Sure, he could look for Jrum and get his brother’s help, but Grum was the older one. He should be figuring it out by himself. Jrum always played in the village, so he would do the same just to prove to himself that he could do it.

The next thing Grum knew, he was in his dad’s arms, the man laughing at Scar who was very upset about how in the world the village was on fire. Of course, Xisuma had made it so nothing could actually burn down, but the sight was still impressive to behold. After Grum looked the scene over, Grian leaned his head down just a bit and whispered. “I totally want to join your side for this war.”

While Grum was very glad that his dad was supportive and that no one was actually hurt, the bot was still very confused. What war? What had happened? And why couldn’t he remember?

Grum flopped on his bed after getting home. This was the opposite of what he wanted. He had just gone to play, and now here he was in the middle of starting some new event that was now supposed to lead into the end of the season. He hadn’t even been here the whole season, much less more than one, so how was he going to do that? And then since he apparently started it, everyone seemed to be putting him in charge.

They had held a private meeting, which Grum pretended to be excited about, then there was a whirlwind of ideas that overwhelmed him. But his dads were there, so Grum didn’t want to disappoint them and tried to focus and participate, but by the end, he just wanted to curl up in bed. He almost managed to do that, but then he was surprised by Jrum coming in and jumping on his bed.

“Hey! You’re done with your meeting now, right?” Jrum asked, sounding so chipper it just made Grum feel more tired. “Does that mean we can play? I thought about doing hide and seek in Uncle K’s and Aunt Cleo’s city!”

Initially, Grum just wanted to roll over and ignore his brother, but then he realized it was actually a perfect idea. He could hide somewhere and have Jrum spend hours looking for him, or Jrum would hide and he would pretend to search for his brother. “Alright. That sounds like a good idea. Let’s head over that way.”

By the time they reached the city, Jrum agreed that he would let Grum hide and he himself could be the seeker. Grum was glad for that and went off to hide, finding a building with a few floors and hiding at one in the middle. And from there it was just a matter of waiting.

As Grum waited, he started to regret it. The concrete making the building up was starting to feel wrong in a way. And suddenly he kept checking the time, making sure it hadn’t been too long. A skeleton spawning in a dark corner and shooting him shook him out of those thoughts, but it didn’t change the fact that he had them in the first place.

Grum took the closest thing he had to a deep breath and thought it over. He was the one who put himself here. He was not stuck here. He was just playing a game. Playing a game didn’t involve any questions or responsibilities. It was the opposite of being stuck in a box. It was a box he made.

And that gave Grum an idea. He always felt stressed from thinking people expected so much from him, but that was from him expecting them to ask for everything. If instead, he thought of it like different parts, different boxes people would want, it would fit better and he could feel better.

Grum was so happy with the realization that he stopped going on autopilot and realized he had been killing more monsters that spawned. Once they were taken care of, he gave Jrum a hint, and before long he was found and they were going back home.

Grum started by working it out in a book. There were four different sections he would make. There were the all important questions and answers, which would also include any political things. With the election long over with, he likely wouldn’t need that, but it was better to include it just the same. The next section was his building one. His dads always talked about getting in the mindset for something, so that would be that. And since he did that a lot, he could fit in other generic pieces there since most of the hermits were categorized by what they did well. The third would be for more child things. Playtime and stories and having fun. Something like how his brother tended to act. Then, the last one was for all the other stuff. The more unnecessary stuff that he probably wouldn’t ever need, but it was better to have than not have.

With everything written out, Grum read it over a few times to make a few edits, then smiled at his work. The concept was good, now he just needed to implement it all. As a robot, Grum was already sort of divided up into files, but they were sort of all over the place. But now with his plan, he could essentially move them all into their own folders and make things a little more controlled.

Once everything was divided, Grum gave each of the folders their own names to help make things a little less confusing. They were generic names for the most part, something he didn’t pay too much attention to. So, when one of them changed its name just as he stopped looking at them all, it wasn’t something he noticed.

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft s7 #grumbot #iskall85 #grian #avian!grian #mumbo jumbo #jrumbot #did!grumbot

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theres-an-impulstor-among-us · 4 years ago

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Okokokok hear me out. You wrote watcher Grian and his boys before. How about dad Grian and his two (robot) sons? (That he certainly didn't just leave in closet)

Oh you asked for two robot sons? How about FOUR? :D

…

NPC Grian is tired of his closet. All he wants is a big open space to build rustic houses in peace, but Grian won’t let him. He has to stay here, away from everyone else, as if Grian is ashamed of him. Not that he thinks about that too much. It starts to hurt if he does.

Sometimes, he thinks just some company would be nice. Someone to talk to, to make his life in this tiny room less lonely. He used to put on a different voice and pretend he had a friend with him, but he doesn’t do that anymore. It just hurts too much when he stops talking and realises he’s still on his own.

How much time has gone by while he’s been in here? Days? Months? Years? He can hardly remember the last time Grian visited him. But his orders were very strict, and NPG cannot disobey his programming. He cannot leave the closet.

Do not leave the closet.

He can feel his energy depleting as his battery runs out. It lasts for years at a time so it must be at least that long since Grian visited him last. At least his lonely existence is coming to an end.

Do not leave the closet.

…

NPG opens his eyes and realises immediately that he is no longer in his closet. Instead, he can see trees. Grass. A blue sky. The sun.

He’s outside.

He sits bolt upright, his programming protesting violently.

“Hey, easy now,” comes a metallic voice. “You’re still recharging.”

NPG glances to his right and finds, to his shock, a robotic-looking version of Grian gazing back at him. “Who are you? How did I get out here?”

“My name is Robot Grian,” he responds. “And I brought you out here. You’d passed out in your closet; I guessed you’d run out of battery. I helped you recharge.”

“Robot Grian?” repeats NPG slowly. “I’ve never heard of you.”

“That’s because I am the second of Grian’s creations, created to fill the void after Grian decided you were of no use to him anymore. And there are others out there who need our help.”

NPG blinks at him. “Really? Grian has more creations?”

“Yes. Two more who need saving before they end up like you and me.”

After a moment, NPG glances away. “I can’t. I have to go back to the closet. I was ordered never to leave.”

“NPG, Grian doesn’t care about you,” insists Robot Grian. “Did you know you recharge using solar energy?”

NPG hesitates. “No, I didn’t know that.”

“And Grian still kept you locked away in a place where you’d never see the sun. That’s what he does, you know. He tosses us aside as soon as we’ve served our purpose and makes sure nobody ever finds out we ever existed. He may have created you but you don’t owe him anything. You don’t have to follow his orders anymore.”

NPG thinks about this for a while. Robot Grian’s words ring true; NPG is tired of living in a closet but if Grian had his way, he would never see the light of day again. If NPG ever wants to be happy, he knows he has to be free.

“Okay, so what is our plan?” he asks.

Robot Grian appears pleased at his decision. “As I said, there are two others who have been abandoned by Grian. We go free them then we go to Grian and force him to accept us for who we are.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Then we leave. He can’t overpower all four of us if we catch him on his own.”

“I see…” NPG pauses again. “If we are truly committed to moving on from just being Grian’s creations, then I would like to change my name.”

“Good idea,” says Robot Grian approvingly. “To what?”

“Rustic House,” NPG replies immediately. “My one true love.”

Robot Grian looks taken aback by his instant and rather bizarre answer. “Okay… What about Rusty?”

“Hmm… A nickname for Rustic House. I like it!” Rusty beams. This is the happiest he has been in years. “What will you be called?”

After a moment, Robot Grian shrugs. “You make up a name for me.”

“Me? Okay. Roby.”

“Whoa, okay, that was quick. Why that?”

“It’s short for Robot,” Rusty explains. “I think it’s cute.”

“Huh.” His new companion considers this. “I kinda like it, actually. And really, anything’s better than having someone else’s name with “Robot” tacked onto the front to differentiate myself from the original.”

“Yay! Are you my friend, Roby?”

Roby thinks. “I guess we’re more like brothers, aren’t we? We were both created by the same person, so-.”

Rusty’s smile widens and he grabs Roby in a hug. “This is amazing! I’ve never even had a friend before, let alone a brother.”

Roby chuckles, before carefully removing Rusty’s arms from around him. “Okay, sure. Remember, we’ve got two more brothers out there who need our help, so we’d better get going quickly, before Grian realises we’re missing.”

…

Roby leads Rusty to a giant box out in the ocean. He digs a hole into it and drops down, landing as lightly as a cat.

Next to him, Rusty falls on his face.

Rolling his eyes amusedly, Roby moves further into the room, which is decorated like the outside world, with a painted blue sky and grass as the floor.

“Who are we here to rescue?” asks Rusty, jumping to his feet.

“Him.”

Roby gestures upwards. Rusty follows his gaze and finds a large robotic shell sitting against the back wall, its face and outstretched arms frozen in perpetual satisfaction.

“Meet Grumbot,” Roby says. “He was created by Grian and his friend Mumbo Jumbo to be a mayoral campaign robot. They eventually blamed him for Mumbo’s loss in the election and abandoned him here, claiming he’s “happy” in this fake reality.”

“We’re gonna save him, right?” asks Rusty eagerly.

Roby nods, encouraged by Rusty’s enthusiasm. “Yes, indeed. I’m not entirely sure if Grian knows this, but the Grumbot you see before you is actually just a gigantic shell. The real Grumbot is inside what you might call its “brain”, supplying the larger body with its energy and knowledge.”

“Whoa…!”

“Yup. Wait there.”

Roby climbs up Grumbot’s outer shell and slips through a crack in its head.

Inside the nerve centre, he finds a smaller version of Grumbot, complete with moustache and Grian-style hair. He is slumped against the wall of his prison, unresponsive, just as Rusty had been when Roby found him.

Roby may be a robot but even he can feel sadness welling up in him at the sight of the little robot, a little over half his size, all alone in this place. He gathers Grumbot into his arms and slips back out through the crack.

Rusty helps him get down, his eyes fixed on the little robot in Roby’s arms. “Is this Grumbot?”

Roby nods. “This is him. I don’t know how he recharges but we’d better get him away from here. It can’t be doing him any good.”

The two leave the giant box and hop back into the boat they rowed here in. As they get further away from the prison, Grumbot starts to stir, as if waking up from a deep sleep. His eyes open just as the boat is pulling up to the dock.

“Hey,” Roby says gently, carrying him onto the shore. “Can you hear me?”

Grumbot blinks at him a few times. “Yes. Who are you?”

“My name is Robot Gr-.” Roby almost forgets his new name. “I’m Roby. This is Rusty.”

Rusty beams as he drags the boat from the water. “Hi!”

Grumbot tips his head on one side. “Who am I?”

“Your name is Grum,” Rusty tells him, before Roby can speak. “You’re a robot made by Grian and now we’re forming a gang so we can go beat him up for abandoning us.”

“That last bit isn’t true,” Roby says quickly. “We’re not going to beat him up. We just want him to accept us for who we are. All four of us.”

Grum glances from Rusty to Roby. “Where are my dads?”

Roby winces. He knows he has to break some bad news to the equivalent of a child. “They… um… they left. But that’s why we’re gathering our group together: so we can find our… our dad and make him accept us.”

Grum pauses, digesting this information. “Rusty. And Roby. And Grum?”

Roby nods encouragingly. “Yeah. You’re one of us, Grum. We’re gonna look after you, okay?”

To Roby’s relief, Grum smiles and nods. “Okay. Thank you.”

“You’re… welcome.”

…

Roby leads the other two to the place where they will find the final creation: Grian’s hobbit hole starter base. “I did some recon here a few days ago,” he says as the group make their way inside. “Grian keeps him in a closet, just like you, Rusty.”

“Closets are lonely and devoid of hope,” says Rusty.

Roby nods, unsure of how else to react to that. “Indeed. He was Grian’s original cam account but Grian dumped him in favour of the new one he uses now. That only happened a few months ago though, so he shouldn’t be as low on charge as you two are.”

The closet is located in Grian’s bedroom upstairs. Roby gestures for the others to stand back, before he opens the door.

Immediately, a figure shoves past him and zooms for the door. Thankfully, Rusty is standing in the way and he stops the person from escaping.

“It’s okay, it’s okay!” Roby scrambles up from the floor and gets in front of the figure, holding out his hands reassuringly. “It’s okay, we’re not gonna hurt you. We’re here to help, okay?”

Now that the person has stopped moving, the others can see that he too looks exactly like Grian, except with bigger, more expressive eyes, which are filled with pain and fear.

“It’s Grifter, right?” asks Roby softly. “Your name is Grifter?”

After a moment, the frightened cam account nods.

“Can you talk to me? Are you alright?”

Another pause. Finally, Grifter opens his mouth and croaks, “Where’s Grian? Wh-Who are you?”

“I’m Roby. That’s Rusty and Grum.” Roby indicates his brothers in turn. “Grian is… probably at his mansion at the moment.”

“Grian abandoned me.” Grifter’s face screws up as if he is about to cry. “I tried so hard to be a good cam account but he replaced me. What did I do wrong?”

“I’m positive you didn’t do anything,” Roby assures him. “Grian has an issue with creating things and then abandoning them when he doesn’t know what to do with them anymore. But now that we're all together, we can go find Grian and make him accept us.”

Grifter slowly looks around at the other three. “You guys were abandoned too?”

Rusty and Grum nod at the same time. “He locked me in a closet,” says Rusty helpfully.

“I was imprisoned in the brain of a larger version of myself that I was forced to feed with my infinite knowledge and energy until I had nothing left inside me except crippling loneliness and a rapidly depleting battery,” Grum says.

The other three stare at him.

“Okay, that’s the most depressing thing I’ve ever heard,” Grifter says, before turning back to Roby. “And you think we can just get him to accept us?”

Roby nods. “I do. Grian isn’t a bad person; he just doesn’t know what to do with us anymore. If we show him that we have purpose and our sentience has grown, maybe he’ll see us as actual living beings instead of unfeeling robots.”

“You are a robot, though,” Rusty points out.

“That’s beside the point.”

…

Rusty, Roby, Grum, and Grifter make their way into Grian’s mansion. They immediately find him working on something on the foyer, head buried in one of the many chests lining the walls.

For a moment, the group dithers a safe distance away, unsure how to start.

“Dad!” Grum calls unexpectedly.

Grian nearly jumps out of his skin. He sharply turns and his eyes widen as he registers his four creations standing together a little way off.

“O-Oh my god… What are you all doing here…?”

“We wanted to talk to you,” says Roby, taking the lead when it’s clear nobody else will. “You’re technically our father so we want to talk to you about… events that happened.”

Grian hesitates. “You mean… me locking you four away from the rest of the world?”

All four of them nod at the same time, causing Grian to sigh quietly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt any of you, I just… You all grew far beyond what I expected and I didn’t know how to handle that.”

“You abandoned us!” Grum cries. “You and other dad left me all on my own in a box in the middle of the ocean! How could you think I would be happy there?!”

Grian winces. “I’m sorry, Grumbot…”

“My name is Grum now.”

“We changed our names,” explains Roby. “I’m Roby. NPG is now Rusty. And Grifter is… just the same, really.”

“You changed your names? Why?”

“Because we’re trying to show you we don’t want to be your forgotten clones anymore,” says Roby. “We’re more like your sons. All we want is for you to accept us and love us the way we are. There’s no need to be ashamed or scared of us. We just want to live.”

“We can be a family,” says Rusty out of nowhere. “Right…?”

Grian stares at them for a moment, before giving a small smile. “We can absolutely be a family.”

Beaming, Rusty rushes over to Grian and hugs him. Grum joins soon after, and so do Grifter and then Roby.

“We’ve still got a lot to talk about,” says Grifter pointedly. “About how you made us feel with your abandonment of us.”

“Of course.” Grian nods. “I know I hurt you and I’ll make up for that. Things aren’t going to be perfect straight away.”

Rusty nods. He knows this. It’s obvious that they still have issues to work out but that hardly matters at the moment. What matters is he’s finally out of that closet AND he has a brand new family.

Finally, Grian is accepting him.

#hermitcraft #grian #npc grian #robot grian #the grifter #grumbot #Vaunna writes

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skywillsometimeswrite · 4 years ago

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So since I went back and rewatched/watched the Sahara opening from all three perspectives, I gotta just make a list of my favorite parts because it was so good. Some of these can only be found specific to one POV or two POVs so I highly recommend watching all of them because it’s so worth it.

Episodes: Grian’s 71 Mumbo’s 105 Iskall’s 111

Pre-Opening:

-Mumbo and Iskall trying last minute to make all the redstone work before Grian finds out that it isn’t done -Mumbo having a Grian head in his inventory while he is working on Sahara for seemingly no reason -Mumbo’s “YES!” when the stocking (i think) works and how excited he gets -Mumbo just completely gushing over how much he loves the project

-Iskall pro-speed-slick-recording of Mumbo’s ice confession (as well as Grian in the background “He’s totally recording. Don’t fall for it.”) and then saying that Mumbo went on to say he loves ice -Iskall: I’m gonna meet up with the boys. *opens a chest full of stuff and deeply sighs* I’m gonna clear this up then I’m gonna meet up with the boys.

Opening (under a read more cause it got long):

-The fact that Grian didn’t put on any sort of skin to begin with. I know he put on the Steve Jobs skin, but idk I find it amusing he didn’t put on his business suit for the actual opening part -Mumbo’s “Oh this is a nice tent” as he hides behind it because you can clearly tell by the other two’s laughter that that hadn’t been apart of their original skit -The failed first launch -Ren. Just... Ren. -How Mumbo mentions that the exploded door matches the one in the warehouse and immediately telling Iskall that no, he hasn’t fixed it and that it’s staying forever -Iskall and Mumbo (of all people) questioning why Grian killed a wandering trader and Grian innocently responding “I found him like that.” -The entire “It’s glasses!” interaction in response to Grian’s Steve Jobs skin -Iskall trying to keep a straight face even though you hear him quietly laughing -Violent Mumbo 1: hitting Ren towards the ordering part of Sahara -Mumbo barely being able to prevent himself from directly telling Ren how the system works and how to work it -Grian responding to Ren’s comment of a long wait with “But look at the lights go on! Ding, ding? We’re on two lights now, how exciting is this Ren? -Grian: ...thats it i’m closing the company, Sahara is over- -Iskall: NO WAIT! HAVE SOME FAITH! -”I got a beacon... receipt.” ”That’s Sahara in a nutshell. You get charged for things that don’t actually arrive.” -Grian and Iskall’s laughter sounding like they’re crying -Grian hitting all the armor stands out the door -Violent Mumbo 2: “So here’s my idea... we kill him.” -All three of them clearly having an idea of how that huddle should go and then not agreeing on it. Grian trying to have this act of employer to employees, Mumbo just saying they should kill Ren and start again, and then Iskall trying to work off that -Iskall trying to think of something that might be near and dear to Ren without mentioning family and only managing to come up with his sunglasses -Iskall: Think about his sunglasses. -Mumbo: I haven’t been able to think about anything else since he’s arrived. -Iskall managing to keep a straight face when talking about mispricing the beacons and that finally cracking Mumbo’s facade while Grian is just in disbelief -Honestly this whole huddle is the best thing -”Where did we put the payment chest? We forgot about the payment chest.” “Are you kidding me????” -Mumbo: I only put one minecart in I wasn’t expecting him to order this much *cue them all breaking down even further* -”He ordered rockets... And they arrived! I don’t know how! How have they arrived?” “Don’t question it!” “No- why has he just broken the shulker box? Ren stop yourself!” “Because there’s no instructions!” -Mumbo: Oh gosh! I’m setting myself on fire. Where’s my flint and steel? *looks at Grian* You took it. I hate my life- bye. *disconnecting* -Grian actually checking to see if he took Mumbo’s flint and steel because that’s something he would do -Violent Mumbo 3: hitting Grian and basically threatening him not to ever touch the system again -Iskall clearly not seeing the Beta sign on Sahara if his laugh is anything to go by while Mumbo and Grian already knew about it -All of them doing this zoom in on Ren as he stands on a chimney (which by itself is hilarious) -How the second-first opening fails and Grian is exasperated, Iskall is dying of laughter, and Mumbo is hopelessly embarrassed -”For goodness SAKE! I hate this! I don’t want to be part of this group anymore! Bunch of useless people!” -Ren witnessing all of this and inviting Mumbo to come chill on the chimney with him (”Yeah I’m going up on the chimney.”) -Mumbo having to stop himself from saying anything to Ren during the ordering process -Mumbo forgetting he doesn’t have an elytra on and trying to fly (this seems to be a common occurrence with him in S6) -Mumbo’s EEEEEEEE when he sees the minecart working -Ren’s carrots going into the machine and Grian just going “Now it’s not my fault!” -Grian: This is the most complicated thing I’ve ever been apart of and I didn’t do anything complicated so I feel great. -Violent Mumbo 4: “Did Ren ever pay?” *before even checking* “No. Should we beat him up?” (Bonus: Mumbo cutting to the next part with a transition of him saying “One serious beating later”) -Ren: Do I get a discount for being the first customer? “No.” “No.” “Absolutely not, we’re a business.”

#these episodes #are gold #idk if ren had a POV but im assuming not #i love these idiots #such sibling energy #hermitcraft #sahara #mumbo jumbo #grian #iskall85 #architechs #sky speaks #fic fodder

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writing-the-end · 4 years ago

Text

LoL Chapter 51- Fallen Angel

(Sorry this is late! i got my vaccine and it mcfucking knocked me out lol)

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

The hermits return to Eremita from a restocking trip, to discover they have been raided. And one hermit has been taken.

Warning: Capture, slight torture scene

_________________________________

Eremita has become their safe haven, the last bastion for the guild. Even when the arcane guard chased them all the way to the water’s edge, no sane person would dare follow the hermits into the Ashioll sea. Which is exactly why they lived in its mysterious, misty embrace.

They could no longer simply fly off upon the backs of sky turtles, or even teleport into the towns they frequented. Now, when the hermits absolutely had to go into public for supplies they couldn’t make or grow themselves, they sailed in on Cleo’s pirate ship. And when they had to leave, they made sure that if anyone was following them, they took a roundabout direction back to their home. It adds time, weaving between the islands and through the mists, but ensures no one can guess where they live.

Cleo’s pirate ship beaches up onto the sand, nestling back into place as a wrecked vessel once more. The dream magic fades, revealing broken oak boards, seagrass growing through seams, and splintered masts of the ghost ship Cleo commands. Hypno blinks free from his sleep, rubbing his eyes and yawning. “Already? Man, my dream was just starting to get interesting.”

With the help of rattling skeletons, their bones held together by magical muscle and sinew, the hermits unload food, meats, fabrics, and more. Enough for months, as if they were preparing to be snowed in after a massive blizzard. Almost all the hermits were a part of the flow of supplies.

Almost. Only three hermits stayed behind. Zedaph had an accident with his two explosive friends, and while it wasn’t the first time, Grian wanted to keep an eye on the burns in case the magic lingered. Mumbo stayed behind as well, but for very different reasons. One, he was easily recognizable. Everyone knows the multimage that Dolios wants captured alive. Him and Grian are the only two who Dolios demands be captured alive. He also was in the middle of inventing some new contraption, and was not about to leave it behind and lose all his progress. Last Cleo saw of him, he was extinguishing burning locks of hair. She wonders if he’s made any progress, or if he’s burned all his hair away at this point.

Once Impulse and Tango have unloaded their share of the shipment, they go in search of their friend. Both still feel bad for burning Zed, even if it was by accident. And they’ve all been burned at this point in all their years together. But it doesn’t mean they don’t feel bad, especially leaving Zed behind. At least they brought back a caramel apple from his favorite stall in the market, as well as fresh hay for his barn and animal friends.

“Zed? We have a surprise for you!” Tango calls, his voice twinged with mischief, as if they plan to prank their friend rather than give him a gift. No response comes from the flat roofed barn, except the distant bleat of a sheep. Tango looks at Impulse, fiery hair remaining vertical even as his head tips to the side. “Could he be taking a nap?”

“You know Zed and his sleep schedule, he wouldn’t interrupt it, even when he wakes up on the wrong side of the bed.” Impulse waves it off. “He probably just isn’t listening, or maybe pulling a prank of his own. Let’s go in.”

Impulse waves Tango through the gate, careful to keep the sheep, goats, and other farm animals from getting between Tango’s feet and causing his hair to ignite the dry hay in his arms. A horse nips at the bale, but Tango keeps it well away from catching fire. He’s relieved to lighten the load he’s carrying as soon as they're inside the barn. Both mages look to the bed tucked in the corner, but no Zedaph. Tango tosses the haybale aside. “He should be resting.”

They clamber over the piles of hay, searching every nook and cranny for Zedaph. Even his cookie stash, which they let him believe is still a secret. But Zed is nowhere within the barn he chooses to live in.

Concern pales both Impulse and Tango’s face, and Tango’s hair reacts in kind to the revelation. “Perhaps he’s being treated by Grian?”

Tango doesn’t answer, already following the path across the width of the island, from one shore to another. Grian’s floating cloud, the quartz tower with large archways and a glass domed roof. Perfectly built for a sky angel, his wings and speed. Not so perfect for his roommate, and all of Mumbo’s redstone machinery, his own lanky body climbing up onto the solid cloud and stairs to sleeping quarters.

The redstone workshop at the base of the building has been cleaned up, though a few vials seem to have rolled away, as if they were grabbed then subsequently dropped. But, just like the barn, no sign of Mumbo.

But there is a sound. Echoing from the glass dome, a sniffling, stifling cry escapes from above, followed by a gasping, shuddering breath. Impulse runs up the steps as fast as possible, each bounce from stair to stair accentuated with a tiny explosion to give him more speed. Tango blazes behind, fire burning bright as the sun as energy courses through him. He notices on the way up grey streaks against the pure white quartz.

“Zedaph?” Impulse breathes, screeching to a full stop. In the center of the room, Mumbo and Zed are huddled close, holding on tight. Their eyes wild with fear, and in Zed’s eyes he can see a shared memory. A shared trauma him, Impulse, and Tango all share. Two hermits, holding onto each other like its their last hope.

Only two. “Where’s Grian?”

Mumbo opens his mouth, but a strangled cry only escapes. Tears fall from both their faces, shaking like leaves. Something bad has happened to their friend. Tango slides across the floor, grabbing Zedaph and Mumbo. “What happened? Where’s Grian? Are you hurt?”

They both shake their heads, but finally Mumbo gathers enough of his voice to speak. It’s weak, broken apart like glass shattering. “He took him.”

__________________________________________________

A cold, wet air fills Grian’s lungs, biting into his skin like ice on a cold morning. When he tries to open his eyes, the dull ache of his skull becomes sharp, forcing the angel to screw them closed again. Grian grimaces, trying to figure out why he has such a terrible headache. Did he hit his head in training? No, he wouldn’t have been allowed to sleep with the hermits hovering over him. Perhaps he drank too much. Once again, impossible. Grian knows what his hangover is like, and it’s not this.

He realizes he’s definitely hanging, but not from drinking. Cold, hard metal presses flat against his wrists, suspended over his head. The iron bites into his skin, all his weight rubbing his wrists raw.

“Good, you’re awake. I was starting to get bored waiting, though I do quite enjoy relishing in finally having my prize thirty years in the making.” The snide, even tempo of Magistrate Dolios’s voice hurts worse than any headache or wrist, and Grian finally manages to open his eyes. The cavern he finds himself in is foreign, not even remotely similar to the brick and iron dungeons where he last woke up in Dolios’s clutches. So long ago, it feels like. The Championship. At the time, he felt like he was at the top of the world. Now? Now he feels like the world was crushing him.

Grian resists his bindings, but even when he kicks outward, his feet don’t even scrape the dank floor. He tips his head back, until the crown of his head collides with a smooth, hard material. Just at the touch, he can feel the oppressive energy of the crystal. In his vision, he sees the sharp tip of the massive gem. Each wrist is locked tight against the crystal, the nails buried deep in the crystal lattice.

He looks around, searching for other hermits. For Mumbo, the last face he remembers before…

The memories flood in, cascading alongside the fear and panic. He remembers everything, every terrifying second. Leaving Zedaph to meet with Mumbo, he remembers the scent of marigolds on his hands, just after crushing the petals to make a paste for Zedaph’s burns. The quiet island, most of the other hermits gone. He remembers patting his pocket, the note from his best friend telling him to meet at Iskall’s place.

But when he arrived, Mumbo was nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t unusual, Mumbo tended to get distracted and be late. So he waited, plucking orange petals from his clothes, hair, and hands. He should’ve noticed the way the wind shifted, becoming cold and stale, before disappearing completely.

He should’ve realized something was very wrong when the grey stormcloud appeared. But he didn’t. He was so focused on waiting for Mumbo, then on getting rid of the flowers in his feathers, that he didn’t see the husks crawl their way free of the ocean. At least, not until the husk of a soldier came barreling for him, empty glowing white eyes and ashen, flaky form charging with halberd drawn.

Grian squeaked, dodging the attack. Stumbled over the writhing form of a cactus cat, the fading spines still quite sharp, he was saved by a pair of not-grey arms.

Not grey arms draped in wine red fabric, the hems decorated in gold thread. He realized who it was immediately, and scrambled to try and get away. But Dolios’s magic kept a strong grip, vines of black twisting and tying Grian’s wings to his back, while a hazy fog had grown around them.

He remembers the feeling of Dolios’s hands in his hair, pulling him to his feet as he struggled and fought against the vines and the fog that filled his mind. Hands clawing at his binds, even biting the magistrate at one point. He remembers the taste of blood, iron on his tongue and Dolios swearing, blasting Grian with magic.

And the last thing he remembers, before being knocked out and torn away from his home, was Mumbo’s face. Rounding the corner, completely oblivious to the fight occurring. It was at that moment that Grian realized, when his eyes locked with Mumbo’s that it wasn’t him that sent the letter. The confusion, of seeing Grian, the surprise on his face. He was walking towards the infirmary, dropping the box in his hand upon seeing the sight before him.

The fear on Mumbo’s face matched Grian’s own, as he was dragged into the sea. A second later, a swift burst of sonic energy knocked him out.

And now he’s here. Dolios saunters across the room, gathering ingredients and writing down notes. Grian swings his legs, and summons his wings to try and be free. But as soon as the blue and white feathers appear, they crumble into ash. Crushing weight sets in on his head, his shoulders, his lungs, and his magic, and the crystal he’s trapped against hums with power. “You’re quite different from the last angel I hunted. At least you fought back, but in the end they left me without the gift of their magic. This time, I’m not letting anything go to chance.”

The magistrate sets his bowl of guts aside, approaching the crystal and Grian. His hands are clasped behind his back, shoulders straight and head held high. The weight of the oppressive dark magic doesn’t bother him. Grian’s not ready to give up just yet. He attempts to kick Dolios, but the dark mage stands mere centimeters out of reach. So Grian decides to use his words. “You’re kind of an asshole, you know that?”

“I’ve been told that once or twice before, yes. But the rest of Lairyon loves me. And why wouldn’t they? I’ve brought prosperity to this kingdom, done more than that stupid rainbow king could ever do, and all of this because of my power.” Dolios sweeps his hands, vapors of dark magic swirling from his fingers as his fingers clench to fists

“Stolen magic. If the citizens knew, they’d hate you just as much as I do.” Grian reels back his head, and does the best he can to annoy Dolios. He spits on him. The glob of spit lands on Dolios’s cheek, the magistrate flinching, then reaching up and wiping it away. A fresh anger in his eyes.

“And who would believe you? An outcast mercenary orphan? The last of your kind?” Dolios stoops low, plucking a husked feather from the floor. He walks back to the table, mixing the components and ingredients from his jars of death with Grian’s feather. “Your power is rare. Angelic mages are always powerful, a power I crave. You will be a wonderful addition to my collection of magic. The last of the angels to complete my set!”

A fearful shiver ricochets down Grian’s spine. “You’re going to turn me into a husk?”

“Oh, gods no!” Dolios laughs, so loud that it echoes off the cavern walls as he throws his head back, brown curls dancing across rich fabric. “I wouldn’t dare waste such magic to become simple energy for me and my beast. No, no. Do not fret, little bird, you will become so much more. I don’t plan to drain your energy. I plan to steal it.”

The hunger in Dolios’s eyes as he turns, the concoction in his hand, Grian realizes what he's seen all this time in Dolios’s eyes. Hunger. A madman hellbent on taking what he sees as rightfully his.. A predator stalking his prey. And Grian was cornered, pinned. Unable to fight back, unable to fly away. Fear is replaced by terror, a sensation Grian struggles to fight back. He needs to think clearly if he hopes to survive.

“The last angel died before my powers were…” Grian pauses, seeing the coy smile on Dolios’s face.

“I always had a-” Dolios pauses, waving his hand nonchalantly before marking the ground around the crystal spires with dark seal. “-fascination with angelic wizards. A dear friend of mine in my youth was one. Ever since then, I knew I had to have that kind of magic in my collection. So strong, each and every one of you. With magic even the ancient ones revered. And now?”

Dolios steps back, casting his magic circle. Rather than emitting color and light, it absorbs all color to make the pattern of his magic. He raises his hands, and two satellite crystals awaken. Darkness swirls in the lattice of the gems, mist eeking out through pores and filling the cavern with darkness. When the mist reaches the seal surrounding the crystal Grian’s chained to, the spire behind him, pressed against his back, activates. The pressure on his body, his magic becomes unbearable, breaking into pain. Like a harpoon through his chest, the dark magic takes hold. Biting down, biting in.

And slowly, agonizingly stealing his magic. So intrinsically tied to his soul, hsi lifeforce, it feels as if his very being is being dragged from every inch of his body in contact with the crystal. He writhes to escape the painful magic, but the bonds hold firm and he struggles to catch his breath. Dolios steps back, basking with ravished delight at the scene before him. Enjoying the pain that tears at Grian’s skin, soul, and spell. “Now the magic will soon be mine.”

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft au #hermitcraft fanfic #light of lairyon #wizard au #wizard hermits #lol #wizard grian #wizard cleo #wizard zedaph #wizard mumbo #grianmc #grian #zombiecleo #zedaph #mumbo jumbo

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autistic--cryptid · 4 years ago

Note

hey! just wondering if you have any mlp or hermit headcanons? also i hope you have a great day your blog is great!! <3 /p

indeed i do!

mlp:

twilight, luna, celestia, pinkie, maud, ocellus, and sunburst are all autistic

celestia, rainbow dash, scootaloo, gallus, silver stream and pinkie all have adhd

cadence is the only neurotypical princess. everytime the 4 princesses meet she spends the whole time sitting there listenting to the rest of them infodump

luna was a pegasus who earned her horn

sunset is essentially the human world equivalent of an alicorn. it doesn’t translate to the pony world because equestrian magic is different, as stated in the movies. the reason twilight is an alicorn in the pony world and in the hula world when she pony’s up is because ponying up happens bc of equestrian magic

twilight uses she/they pronouns

rarity and pinkie both use she/her and will tell people their pronouns are she/her but rarity is not opposed to any neopronouns as well

rainbow uses any pronouns with no preference

applejack uses they/she/he, in order of preference

fluttershy uses she/her and bun/buns pronouns

discord is agender and aroace and uses any pronouns but has a preference for he/him

celestia uses she/her and so/sol

luna uses she/her and they/them

cozy glow is set out of stone at some point between the coronation and the future and spends time with diamond tiara to learn how to use her special talent for good, and as an adult she’s fully reformed and takes on the role of captain of the royal guard

spitfire essentially did what rainbowdash did when she was in the wonderbolts academy: she was confident in her abilities and didn’t let the instructor break her, and then proceeded to excel at every task

spike learned how to sew from rarity, and learned how to bake and cook from pinkie

while celestia takes on ponies who have bright futures ahead of them to set them on the right path to reach that future, luna takes on ponies with dark pasts to help them with their feelings and guide them towards their brighter future

before her banishment, luna was in charge of whatever protection equestria had pre-EUP. she didn’t take it over again as she wasn’t caught up on the many many changes their military underwent

hermitcraft:

xisuma has a very consistent sleeping scheduel. he will pass out at 9:30pm on the dot regardless of what he’s doing or where he is and then wake up at 5:30am exactly everyday without fail

xisuma has several suits stored in his base, all of which are of different mobs (excluding the 50 plain green ones), and that’s how he’s able to change his skin so often

unlike xisuma, ren never sleeps. he’s constantly awake until sunrise or even beyond then working on whatever project he’s started. often times he ends up falling asleep at the base of a nearby tree or on his unfinished project because he kept himself working for too long to be able to fly to his bed

for the same reason why he never sleeps, ren never brushes his hair. if he doesn’t have time to sleep how would he find time to do that?? his solution is various hairstyles: one day it’s braided, the next it’s a ponytail, the next it’s a bun, and so on

tango has redstone freckles that glow as he smiles

impulse can touch wither roses just fine and sometimes forgets that his friends cannot. similarly, tango has shoved his entire arm in lava before to reach netherite that fell and briefly forgot his friends were so shocked bc they aren’t able to do that without losing hearts

cub has nearly infinite knowledge on all mobs and minecraft rules. somewhere in his giant pyramid or storage system there’s a book with all you could ever need to know on ravagers, and there’s probably another book on unicode, and then another on biomes, and then anoth

joe, on the other hand, does not know much about mobs. he knows what to avoid and what he can befriend, and the rest he learned through from experience. sometimes he’ll show up at cub’s base and take one of his books as if it’s library with no book organization just so he can figure out why tango just went flying over the shopping district saying something about his magic ravager teleportation system or whatever it is that time

false and wels talk about cool swords together and show each other their sword collections on a regular basis

the only person who knows more about minecraft flowers than cub is stress. sure cub knows everything about anything, but this is stress we’re talking about. if you ask her to talk to you about poppy’s you’ll leave the conversation knowing their spawn rates in every biome, the hex codes for each color, when they were added, why their spawn rate is what it is, etc.

mumbo has no idea what going on 90% of the time. he tries, he really does, but he occasionally stops in at his hobbit hole to see if grian’s left him any messages and he’ll read a letter about the turf war and something called moo-pop and the next thing he knows he’s on HEP. he has no idea how this kinda thing keeps happening to him, but he doesn’t know how to make it stop either, so he just rolls with it

tfc knows a bunch of really cool obscure facts. he also owns a lot of really cool obscure items. if you walk up to him and ask him about coal ore, you’re bound to learn something about why it spawns where it does or whatever. he’ll be able to tell you the origin story of endermen, and he’ll be right, but no one will ever be able to figure out how or why he knows this

just like tfc owns a lot of obscure things, he collects a lot of things too, which is often how he has these obscure things. he’s got a collection of coal, dating back to the first one he ever mined, all the way to one he found with a little bit of iron in it

xisuma knows how to sew and evil xisuma knows how to knit. if you bring up sewing to xisuma he’ll show you something he recently made, but if you ask ex about knitting he will fight you

doc likes to play the villain in a storyline for the aesthetic of it. in reality he’d do anything to help his friends, even if he is a bit chaotic in doing so

joe is chaotic great good. just. he is.

#peyton says things #ask #my little pony #mlp #gen 4 #hermitcraft #special interest #long post #rambling #ty for asking!

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quaranmine · 3 years ago

Text

New World, New Faces

When the hermits moved to their new world, they were excited to welcome two new members. But maybe one is an old friend instead . . .

Grian hasn't seen Pearl since Evo. It's a shock.

No romantic relationships or content warnings. Mainly emotional hurt/comfort, but probably more emphasis on comfort. Hermits: Grian, Pearl, and Mumbo primarily with a little bit of Scar and Xisuma as well. Reblogs appreciated and AO3 link in reblog!

Words: 3893

◑ ━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━ ◐

These days, Grian was pleased to say that the Watcher’s didn’t occupy his mind nearly as often as they used to. Except on certain late nights where he lay in bed and thought of before, his time was mostly spent having fun--scheming, pranking, building, planning, mining, laughing with friends. It wasn’t something he could forget, but the hermits had become his new home, and as years passed the edges of those memories had dulled a bit.

The other times where the Watchers occupied his mind were update days. Since joining hermitcraft, Grian had gone through several updates with the rest of the server. Sometimes they moved to a new world, and sometimes they stayed in their old one. No portals of bedrock ever appeared, but Grian always thought of them just the same. It always felt like maybe, just maybe, one day he’d turn around and see their signature portals once again.

Watchers didn’t always leave portals to update worlds. Grian hadn’t known that until he’d been put to work as a Watcher himself. Oh, the Watchers were still in charge of updating worlds, but they often did it more subtly, without grand towers and quests for portals. It’s hard to retain status as a myth when everyone knows your calling card, afterall. Admins always knew when it was time to update. Grian hadn't, back on Evo, because he’s always been told.

It turned out Evo had been different, and Grian didn’t know how to feel about that. Evo wasn’t the only world to receive special attention from the Watchers, but it was one of their favorites. Why them, though? Why did the Watchers keep such a close eye on their world in particular? Why were they left towers and clues and prizes and punishments, when other servers were mostly left alone?

Why did they kill everyone and kidnap Grian?

◑ ━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━ ◐

Grian stood in a group with the other hermits, eagerly waiting for the move to the new world. He bounced a little in anticipation. He was excited for the new update--he knew very little about its contents, but it seemed like there would be some new building blocks to play with, according to Xisuma.

He already had plans for the new world--new bases and new shenanigans. Grian was excited to build close to his friends. Xisuma had informed them that another update would come in a few months, and for the hermits to stick close in the time being so that new land would be freed up for the coming update. Grian had already known about the second update for a while, as all Watchers do, but he let Xisuma handle all of this as admin. Those days were behind him, now, and there was no reason to start exercising Watcher powers in a world that was carrying on just fine on its own.

“Is everyone ready?” Xisuma shouted over the chatter, trying to do a headcount. “Hey!” he shouted, trying to get everyone’s attention. Slowly, the chatter quieted.

“Looks like it,” said Iskall.

“Good,” Xisuma said. “Now, before we go, I wanted to remind you that we have two new people joining us this time. I’ve already made arrangements with them prior so they’re gonna be waitin’ for us when we go through.” He grinned. “Be on your best behavior for me, alright?”

“I’m always on my best behavior,” Keralis replied, and Xisuma rolled his eyes fondly.

Grian smiled, remembering his welcome to hermitcraft a few years ago. Unlike this time, nobody had been expecting him. Grian hadn’t been invited like these two new hermits had been, he had just been there when the hermits arrived on their new world. None of the other hermits knew quite why he was there, but they’d all accepted him graciously nonetheless.

Grian liked that memory. The truth is, he’d fled the Watchers and picked an uninhabited world at random, not realizing it had already been reserved by Xisuma. That was a failure on his part as a Watcher, because he was supposed to know about stuff like that. But he had been too busy running to worry about it and besides, there was nobody on hermitcraft to punish him.

The hermits had welcomed him with kindness and made him part of their family. Now he’d gladly do the same for these new soon-to-be hermits.

“Okay . . .” Xisuma said, typing something into his admin panel. “I’m just setting up the portal now.”

They were all gathered in the shopping district, right in front of the Town Hall. Grian took his chance to take one last glance around at the world. The diamonds in the trees glittered in the morning light, sending little reflective shards of light scattered on the ground. Moving worlds was always bittersweet, because it meant parting with the things he’d worked hard on and the places he’d made memories at. But it was also one of his favorite things to do, because it gave everyone a blank slate to work with, sparking endless new creativity.

“I wish I could take some of those with me,” chuckled Scar, as he walked up next to where Grian was standing. He pointed at the diamonds.

“Well of course you want them, Mr Mayor!”

“Uh-uh,” Scar said. “I’m not the Mayor anymore! This is a new world.”

“Well, I guess we’ll have to see what we get up to in the next one, huh?” Grian asked. “Do you have any plans?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Scar teased.

“I guess I will.”

“Do you have any plans?”

“I don’t know,” said Grian. He thought for a moment. “I might make a cave base. I guess I’m waiting to see what’s out there for inspiration before I start.”

“Well, I look forward to seeing it,” Scar replied. “Oh! It looks like Xisuma is ready.”

Grian looked up, to see X opening a portal. It wasn’t a nether portal, nor was it like an End portal. It wasn’t a Watcher portal either, but an Admin one. Grian had come to realize that Watchers supplied Admins with the means to move into updates on their own when they wanted to. The bedrock portals and scavenger hunts were reserved for their favorite worlds--their toys.

Sometimes the Watchers liked to flex their powers, but the universe is not kept running smoothly if all your time is spent flexing. Grian brushed away the thought, choosing to focus on his friends in front of him instead.

One by one, the hermits stepped through the portal, which swirled light blue and hovered just slightly off the ground. Grian hung back, wanting to be one of the last ones through. He wanted to make sure everyone made it through alright, but Xisuma had to be the very last person, since he needed to close the portal. When it was finally his turn, he gave Xisuma a smile and walked forward.

Grian stepped through, into the bright sunlight of a village, and was surrounded by the voices of his friends.

◑ ━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━ ◐

Spawn was a village in a grassland, next to a swamp and overlooking the ocean. It looked a little plain, but the hermits hadn’t left their mark on the world yet. Behind Grian, Xisuma stepped out into the new world and the portal vanished behind him.

Everybody was crowded around a ditch chattering, apparently exchanging greetings with the two new hermits that stood inside it. Grian held back for a moment, taking it in and basking in the sounds of his friends’ voices. Finally, he wasn’t the new one anymore--a few people had rejoined the server in the last world, but they’d all been old friends, not new ones. That had left him being the most recent addition, not that anything felt like it was recent anymore.

Grian was already thinking of ways to prank the new hermits and draw them into the life of the server.

“Alright Mumbo!” Xisuma said. Grian grinned. Mumbo was supposed to introduce them. Mumbo, of course, didn’t know this, because where’s the fun in that?

“Oh-oh me?”

“It’s go time!” Cleo said.

“This is it!” said Xisuma.

“I’ve clearly very obviously been put up to this,” Mumbo started. “And because everyone thought it’d be much funnier to have me bumble through it without really knowing what I’m talking about, and that is definitely going to be the case!”

The hermits chuckled. Grian walked around the back of the group to try to catch a glimpse of the new people below.

“We do have two new hermits,” Mumbo said, “down in this crevice.”

Grian caught a glimpse of red and brown hair.

“GeminiTay-”

Grian’s world stopped and he felt his breath catch in his throat. She had her back to him, but he’d recognize her anywhere. Her brown hair spilled out from behind a black hoodie.

But she’s dead.

Was this some sort of cruel trick from the universe?

“-and PearlescentMoon.” The rest of the hermits cheered at the announcement, giving the new members a warm welcome. Grian said nothing, his mind spinning a mile a minute.

There was no way it was actually her. The Watchers . . . the Watchers had killed her, and every other Evolutionist. Grian didn’t know why. He would never know why, because with the Watchers it was always “you can’t possibly understand.”And Grian couldn’t. When Grian had finally escaped them, he tried to go back to Evo. It was a foolish attempt, one that would certainly have endangered the lives of anyone there, but nobody had been left there and the buildings were all destroyed and overgrown with vines and Grian had been forced to conclude the heavy truth that all of his old friends were gone.

He didn’t remember what he did after that. He just ran.

Before he could stop himself, the words came tumbling out of his mouth. “Pearl? Is that really you?”

She turned, hearing her name and--it was. It was her. Her hair had blonde highlights around the bangs now, but he’d recognize her anywhere, like her face and the faces of all the other Evolutionists were seared into his brain.

“. . . Grian?”

Grian just stared.

The other hermits had caught onto their mini debacle, and were watching them. “Grian, do you know her?” Mumbo asked.

“Y-yeah, I do,” he stammered.

“Grian?” Pearl shouted, and in an instant had scrambled up the ditch. She stopped in front of him, face pale and eyes wide, like she’d seen a ghost. Maybe he was a ghost, maybe he’d died the day they took him from Evo.

“Pearl,” he whispered.

Suddenly she threw her arms around Grian in a hug and squeezed. “Oh, it’s been so long,” she said, voice muffled.

Grian froze, but slowly reciprocated the hug. He felt numb and like he wanted to cry and scream at the same time, hands shaking, but Pearl’s warm embrace drew him back down to reality.

Pearl pulled away, blinked tears from her eyes and met Grian’s stare. Then, her gaze drifted further down, landing on his folded wings that peaked out just above his shoulders. Tentatively, she reached out to stroke a feather. “What happened to you?” she asked softly.

“I thought you were dead,” Grian said by way of answer.

“Well, I’m not,” Pearl said, and for a moment Grian almost didn’t believe her, and grabbed her wrist tightly, just to see if it was real. Pearl let him. “They took you,” she said.

Grian just looked at the ground, uncomfortably aware of how many people were watching him. Ironic, almost--he didn’t want them watching him so that they wouldn’t know about the Watchers. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the hermits. He did. He’d trust them all with his life a thousand times. He just . . . didn’t want to explain. The hermits were a good bunch. The unspoken rule was that you didn’t ask about anyone’s past unless they spoke first, and Grian knew they’d abide by that for him as well. But he could do without the turned heads.

“Alright everyone!” Xisuma shouted suddenly, startling Grian. “Let’s go, let’s get to work, this season won’t start itself!” Slowly, the hermits began to disperse, branching off into groups. “How’re ya gonna start the season if you don't chop down a tree? I’ll get to work protecting these villagers.”

Xisuma threw a glance over to them, and Grian mouthed a thank you. Xisuma just nodded, and left them alone. Grian was overwhelmed with relief at the admin’s gesture.

He turned back to Pearl.

“I-I can’t believe you’re actually here,”Grian said. He smiled and the moment he met her gaze, his eyes began to blur with tears.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” she cried. “When we got back from fighting the enderdragon you . . . you were just gone. They left a note for us . . . said it was necessary for you to be taken. All in rhyme, of course.”

“Of course it was in rhyme . . .'' Grian muttered, suddenly very angry. All the Watchers and their unknowable ways, always distilled down to some pithy saying. A life-changing event relayed to his friends in another stupid little poem. He’d written a few himself and despised it.

“I didn’t think I was ever going to see you again. Do you . . . do you mind if I ask what happened?” Pearl asked. “I’m just happy to see you here but I-”

“No, it’s alright,” Grian said with a sigh. “They took me after I fought the enderdragon, and said I was going to be one of them. I didn’t want to go but-well what could I do? So I went with them, and they promised to let me hang around the server. They lied to me, they never let me Watch Evo.” Grian paused, and felt the cool trail of a tear dripping down his cheek. “They later told me you were all dead.”

“Oh, Grian,” Pearl said, and pulled him into another hug, and that was it for him. He began to sob.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out. “It’s just a lot-”

“I know, I know,” she whispered.

“They-they . . . I didn’t enjoy it there. So I, I ran away. I tried to visit Evo but--there was nobody there. I figured they told the truth then, that you really were dead. I ran and found the hermits and I’ve been living with them every since, and oh they’re so wonderful but I could never forget-”

“It’s okay.” Pearl comforted. “I know, I know. We came home after finding the dragon and our place was ransacked, and we were given instructions to leave. And . . . eventually after we left, the group disbanded and we went our separate ways. But, we’re all alive.”

“Really?” Grian asked.

“Yes.”

“Everyone?”

“Yes.”

“Can I- can I see them?” he whispered. It felt forbidden.

“Of course!” Pearl exclaimed. “I’ve kept in touch with everyone, I’m sure Xisuma could help you visit if you asked.”

“Xisuma . . .” Grian thought aloud. “I haven’t told him,” Grian admitted. The admin certainly knew something was up with Grian, because players didn’t normally randomly appear in worlds they weren’t supposed to, but he’d welcomed Grian with open arms to the server and never asked a single question.

“I’m sure he would understand.”

“He would, but Pearl, I don’t want to put anyone in danger! I’m not supposed to be here!” Grian hissed.

“So then don’t tell him everything. Just say you want to visit some people. He’ll understand, I know he will,” she replied. Grian pondered it for a moment. She was right--he could just ask to visit someone. Other hermits did it all the time. Maybe--maybe a few server hops wouldn’t cause a problem. Maybe this was something within his reach, after all this time. The thought exhilarated him.

“But please,” Pearl added. “Please tell someone else, not just me. How long have you been hiding?”

Too long.

Grian didn’t answer, and the two of them stood there and listened to the crash of the waves on the nearby shoreline. The air was hot and salty, and in the distance he could hear Xisuma opening and closing doors in the village.

He didn’t know what he felt, it was like too many emotions had happened in too short of a period of time and left him burned out like a forest after a wildfire. His hands had stopped trembling, but he felt deeply tired.

Happy. You feel happy.

Grian’s communicator chimed from within his pocket. He withdrew it.

GoodTimeWithScar > Grian: are you okay

Grian smiled, and typed a response.

Grian > GoodTimeWithScar: yes

“Who was that?” Pearl asked.

“Scar. He wanted to know if I was okay.”

“Are you?”

Grian met her eyes. “I am now.” It was close enough to the truth. Grian shifted his weight between his feet, suddenly restless and tired from trying to process all this new information. “Speaking of other hermits, we should get going, yeah? We can’t let them get all the resources without us!”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she chuckled. The hermits had already spread out seeking resources, but not too far yet; Grian and Pearl could still see several of them talking to each other across the field.

“Pearl, before you go--” Grian started, looking serious. “Build next to me, alright? I...I want you to be around.”

“I promise,” she replied.

◑ ━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━ ◐

“Why are you following me?” Grian knew why, but he wanted Mumbo to bring it up. He was torn--on one hand, he truly appreciated his friend’s concern. It was nice that others were looking out for him, a warm reminder of what their little community stood for. On the other hand . . . he’d really have just appreciated being left alone.

“You look like you have a purpose!” Mumbo exclaimed instead.

Huh.

Grian shook his head. “I’m just heading north,” he replied, shielding his eyes and looking up to see the position of the sun.

“I was just like, ‘Man, it looks like he knows where he’s going,’” Mumbo continued and Grian laughed.

They walked to the edge of the swamp, and began to cut down the trees. Starter tools were a necessity in a new world, and they had no stone.

“Ugh, I have to take down this whole tree, and then I have to replant it,” complained Mumbo.

“Wait-why have you got to replant it?” asked Grian incredulously, while getting wood for himself and not replanting the tree.

“Well I-I can’t just deforest things!”

This is going to be SO much fun to tease Mumbo with.

“Whatever you say, tree boy.”

They continued to work, getting wood, and then venturing into a shallow cave to get stone. The whole time their coms kept buzzing, buzzing, buzzing with combat death messages. Just another day in the hermitcraft world, thought Grian. Have they declared a spontaneous war up there? Either way, Pearl and Gem were getting the full introduction today, he thought with a chuckle.

Exiting the cave, they spotted a shipwreck not too far away, and decided to explore it. Grian pulled out a soggy buried treasure map, and they decided to go after it in a boat. Grian wanted to relax in the boat, to just breathe in the sea spray and try to calm his still-racing thoughts, but unfortunately Mumbo was the driver, and he was not a very good driver if you asked Grian. Grian had been tasked with navigation, which was a difficult thing when the driver couldn’t see the map you were describing.

The loot was good, and they divided it between themselves and then struck onward in the boat, this time with Grian commandeering the vessel. They looped back around to the shipwreck only to find a group of hermits that were a little too late to the prize. Pearl, Ren, and Doc were gathered around the boat looking a bit disappointed.

Mumbo and Grian decided to taunt them.

“Who got the loot?” shouted Ren.

“We got the loot!” Grian shouted back.

“Oh it was you guys,” said Pearl. Grian stuck his tongue out at her and cackled.

They looped back around to show off the Heart of the Sea, but Mumbo dropped their only diamond by accident and that was when Grian decided to steer the boat away before they lost any more valuables.

“I can’t believe you dropped the diamond,” Grian sighed.

“I was flexing too hard, I’m sorry!” cried Mumbo.

It was too comical, and Grian couldn’t be mad at his friend. They rowed on, closely following the coastline. After a few minutes, however, Mumbo asked a question.

“The new hermit, who we just saw with Doc and Ren--Pearl--is it. . . is it okay if I ask how you know her?” Mumbo spoke gently, knowing he was treading around a potentially sensitive topic. Grian knew the topic would have come up eventually, after he’d basically had a breakdown in public when he saw her.

Grian stopped the boat, and looked into the water, not at Mumbo’s face. “Yeah, I figured you’d ask. We used to be on a world together. The . . . the world I was at before I came here, actually.” It wasn’t the full truth, since he’d been to many worlds as a Watcher and had lived on the Watchers’ world for a while. But Evo had been his last home.

“Oh,” said Mumbo.

“We were friends,” continued Grian. “We were close. But I was told she was dead. Clearly, though,” he just simply gestured instead of finishing the sentence.

“Clearly she’s not dead,” Mumbo finished. “I see. Who told you she was dead?”

“Someone who didn’t have my best interests at heart.” Grian had never fully told his friend about what had happened before he joined hermitcraft, but the other man knew that it was a difficult past and had comforted him on more than one occasion--mostly after he’d first joined and the pain was still fresh. It had dulled with time and Grian had become more and more adjusted to his new life.

Seeing Pearl again was a miracle, but it sure sharpened the pain.

Grian rested his elbows on the side of the boat and pressed the heels of his palm into his eyes. “It wasn’t just her, either, they told me everyone on the server was dead. And-they’re all alive. All of them. It’s fantastic news, brilliant news, I’m just-”

“Thinking of the people who didn’t have your best interests at heart?”

“Yeah.”

Mumbo laid a hand on Grian’s shoulder. “I don’t know who they are,” he began, “but I know they’re not here now. You have us now, and you have Pearl here too. That all is in the past.”

Grian stared out over the water, watching as the sunlight sparkled and danced over the waves. “You’re a good friend, you know that right?”

“Well, I do try to be,” Mumbo chuckled. “Now-I think we should probably go pick up Scar over there, I think the poor man is going to drown!”

“Oh no!” Grian said, and scrambled for the oars, and then they were off.

◑ ━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━ ◐

When Grian, Impulse, Scar, and Mumbo created the Boatem Pole, Pearl was there to join them.

When Grian woke up in his makeshift camp the next morning, he was happy to see Pearl setting up her own starter base on the other side of the Boatem Pole.

When Grian showed up at Xisuma’s base two days later, he asked for permission to visit other servers.

#hermitcraft #hermitblr #grian #pearlescentmoon #hermitcraft fanfic #mumbo jumbo #hermitcraft season 8 #quara fanfic

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arts-and-drafts · 4 years ago

Text

Unexpected Delivery

(This is the start of the Big Brother AU! I made it in fic form since my hand was out of commission at the time!)

Cleo hummed absently as she finished up the last of the DNA samples for the cloning tubes. It was routine by now; she was nearly halfway done cloning the other hermits for her zoo, the growing duplicates catatonic in their seperate tubes.

Cleo thought there was nothing wrong with her quote "questionable" science, but the other hermits seemed uncomfortable whenever she casually brought it up. Which was fine! She was sure they wouldn't mind that she didn't tell them they were being cloned this time. She'd take great care of them! It'd be a great feature of the zoo.

Cleo poured the last sample into an empty tube, having already confirmed the cells were reproducing as expected. She gave a soft smile as the tube filled with the liquid she liked to call "human fertilizer", which would help the clones grow to their correct proportions in the span of a few weeks.

Cleo removed her protective lab gear, carelessly throwing her gloves on the ground. She wasn't alive, there was no danger of hazardous disposal. And her lab was entirely Joe-proof, so not even he could mess this up. There was nothing left to do now but wait.

Cleo started in stunned panic at the last tube. Oh no. No no no.

Instead of a recognizable hermit taking shape by now, it was a small, bean shaped fetus. Something was very very wrong.

The other clones were nearly finished, already clearly resembling Cleo's friends. But instead of a nearly fully grown adult, there was a developing BABY in the last tube.

Cleo was terrified. She had no idea what could've gone wrong. She swabbed each hermits individual bases EXACTLY so this had no chance of happening. What was she going to do?! It was too small to even see any definitive traits of who the parents could be, but even if there was, what was Cleo going to do? Just walk up to them and hand them their accidental test tube baby, sorry and good luck?

Cleo paused her panicked fidgeting. That could actually work. She did just successfully create a scientific breakthrough, accidental or not. Surely that was something no-one could be mad at. All things considered she should be very proud of herself, actually. How hard could taking care of a kid be anyway? Cleo found it relatively easy; that's why she was a teacher before she died, after all. She loved the little buggers.

Surely it would be fine. Everything would be just fine.

Cleo sat in front of the cloning tube, now an artificial womb. The soft green light from the tube shone on Cleo's thoughtful face, her eyes focused on the small little creation growing in front of her.

What a miraculous turn of events.

Mumbo was awoken in the dead of night by something banging on the door to his hobbit hole.

He blearily looked around the bedroom, unsuccessfully trying to blink away the sleep from his eyes. He saw the light from his son's charging cord gently pulsing in the corner of the room, Grumbot still soundly resting in sleep mode. Rain battered the glass ceiling of the two-room house, the trees along the coast lashing in the monsoon-like winds.

The banging at the door came again, and Grian stirred at Mumbo's side. "Whazzit." Grian mumbled without opening his eyes. Mumbo listened intently at the knocks.

"Zombie." Mumbo realized, Grian groaning in annoyance in response. "You geddit." Grian stated, waving a hand vaguely towards the direction of the door. Mumbo sighed exaggeratedly, resigning himself. "It's raining," he complained, but was met with pointedly fake snores from his husband.

Mumbo shook his head with a small smile, pulling back the blanket to swing his legs over the side of the bed. He yawned and stretched as he stood up, shaking out his hands before grabbing his netherite sword from the bedside chest. Zombies weren't terribly dangerous, but Mumbo doubted he could take one on without serious damage if he was sleepy.

He swung open the door to his hobbit hole, sword poised to strike, but stopped suddenly as he recognized Cleo's face staring back at him, sopping wet and holding a mess of blankets. "I guess I was right," Mumbo stammered with a small laugh, not knowing what else to say. "There was a zombie at my door."

"Very funny." Cleo scoffed, wrinkling her nose to signify no harm done. "What--it's the middle of the night, what are you doing here?" Mumbo asked, sheathing his sword and yawning again.

Cleo opened her mouth, but was instantly cut off by a massive thunderclap. The mess of blankets she was holding suddenly came to life, squirming and bawling its lungs out.

Mumbo stared as Cleo frantically shushed the thing in her arms, gently rocking it back and forth. "Is that a baby?!" Mumbo gasped. "I would love to come in, if you don't mind." Cleo said dryly, purposely ignoring his question.

"O-Oh, of course--get out of this weather, goodness--" Mumbo stuttered, moving aside.

"Hold this." Cleo said distractedly, shoving the screaming bundle of soaked blankets into Mumbo's arms after he shut the door to the raging storm. Cleo shook off the water like a dog, spraying Mumbo and his nice furniture with a shower of droplets. "Ack--Cleo, come on!" Mumbo complained over the wailing of the creature in his arms.

"It's fiiine." Cleo responded, wringing out her hair over the doormat. "You can't just say 'it's fine' whenever you do something," Mumbo muttered, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. He turned his attention to the bundle in his arms as Cleo peeled off her soaked striped socks.

Mumbo pulled back the top covering of the screaming heap, revealing what he'd recognized from the beginning; a small human baby, very clearly newborn.

"Is that a baby?" Mumbo looked up to see Grian, out of bed and staring at the poor thing in Mumbo's arms. "Hi Cleo. Oh hi Grian! I'm doing great, thanks for asking!" Cleo flipped her hair back from her face and glared at Grian, the avian sticking his tongue out at her in return.

"Here--can you get new blankets, Gri? These are soaked." Mumbo asked, unconsciously slipping into Dad Mode. He freed the still crying baby from the soaking bundle, unceremoniously dumping the blankets on the floor.

Cleo moved to sit her wet butt on Mumbo's nice couch as he tried to quiet the baby. "Where--where did it come from? Why the middle of the night?" Mumbo stammered, wordlessly handing the child over to Grian, who had returned with clean warm blankets. The baby was dressed in a plain leather tunic, something Grian quickly replaced for an old nightshirt of Grumbot's. It was still too big, but at least it was dry.

Cleo took a breath, clasping her hands together on her knees. Mumbo and Grian sat on the couch across from her, the baby finally quieting from ear-splitting wails to snuffled fussing. "Please explain, Cleo. Who's is it?" Mumbo pleaded, moving a hand through his hair.

"Well, ah, it came from my lab." Cleo began nervously. "Yes, I have a lab." She interjected at Mumbo's surprised look. "And uh. Well, it's yours."

Grian snapped his head up from the baby, having the same shocked-slash-confused look as Mumbo. "Wh--what? Sorry?" Mumbo stammered. "We're both boys." Grian stated stupidly. "Men. We're men." He corrected, going red.

Cleo rolled her eyes. "It's not a traditional baby, dummies. It's a test tube baby. A--an accidental one." Cleo wrung her hands awkwardly at Mumbo and Grian's faces.

"How do you make an accidental test tube baby, Cleo?!" Mumbo exclaimed. He wasn't mad, just--well, extremely confused. "Why were you making a test tube baby in the first place?!" Grian continued. Cleo held her hands up in surrender. "I--okay--I'm making a hermit zoo exhibit! And I'm cloning you! For the zoo! And uh--well, THAT happened." Cleo explained, gesturing at the small being in Grian's lap. "I individually swabbed your bases, so--I'm not really sure how it happened?" Cleo stuttered.

Mumbo stared. "Cleo. We're married. We live together." Mumbo said, holding up his hand to display the ring Grian had made him.

Cleo stared back. "Oh. Well, that would make sense." She rubbed the back of her neck self consciously. "Cleo, you came to the wedding!" Grian stated incredulously. "You were my groomsmaid!!" Cleo winced. "Right. That's right. I remember now." She said apologetically.

"I--anyways. That baby is a perfect mix of your DNA, so--I mean, technically speaking, I managed to create life without the use of traditional means, so you should be not mad, you should be impressed, really." Cleo rambled.

Mumbo opened his mouth and then closed it again. His redstone brain was truly very impressed, actually, but his parent brain took over. "So you just--gave us a baby? We have a baby now, that's it?" He asked, his voice pitching.

Grian gasped quietly next to Mumbo, pulling his attention from an increasingly nervous Cleo. Grian was staring at the baby, who had finally quieted into idle murmuring. "He has your eyes, Mumby." Grian whispered, his voice catching. Mumbo leaned over, startled to see the same shade of red as his staring back at him. "Oh," Mumbo breathed, a strange feeling coming over him.

Grian held out his finger to the baby and was immediately grasped by the tiny thing's button-sized hand, letting out a coo of endearment and peeking the smallest of smiles. The baby was a naked newborn, hardly a day old, but Mumbo was instantly struck by how much the little smile reminded him of Grian.

Mumbo finally looked away from the baby to Cleo, who brandished a smug grin. Mumbo huffed in annoyance he couldn't bring himself to feel.

"Well...he needs a name." Mumbo reluctantly stated, silently accepting the new member to the family that Cleo had brought them. Cleo grinned wider, undoubtedly coming to the same conclusion that he had.

"Jrum--wait." Grian bit on a laugh. "We can't call him Jrumbot, Grian." Mumbo corrected dryly over Cleo and Grian's giggling. "Okay, how about Junior, then?"

Mumbo wrinkled his nose. "That sounds patronizing. And cliche." He disagreed. Grian hummed in thought while their unnamed son sucked on his finger.

"Okay, how about Juni? That's got a nice ring to it," Grian suggested. Mumbo smiled. "You're just saying that because you can't think of another name than Junior." He teased, letting out a laugh when Grian shoved him in response.

"I like Juni." Cleo piped up, visibly more relaxed after knowing they wouldn't be mad at her.

Mumbo looked down at their new son again, his bright red eyes now curiously swiveling around to everything he could see. He was so young, so small and fragile, and yet Mumbo could already see so much life in him.

"Yeah." Mumbo said, swallowing a sudden lump in his throat. "I like Juni too."

#big brother au #hermitcraft fic #grumbot lives au #meraki post

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