#dose of martyn

[eluminium]

LUCKILY FOR YOU PEOPLE! THERE IS A CHANCE!

WIN FOR THE CORAL KIDS SUPPORTERS!

trying not to get my hopes up for coral kids because their interaction was very brief but also GOD. even just aesthetically that duo fucks like mad. imagine. mermaid/coral themed scott and roguish pirate martyn. imagine.

[eluminium]

hi i saw what that person said abt skizz and doc

me and my partner have our own silly noncanon life game thing which does include doc

i present to you:

skizz and doc but theyre both red

OHOHOHO THAT IS QUITE A CONCEPT!

They're gonna be SO theatre kid dramatic about it but instead of renfaire actor vibes like Ren, they're more like, Saturday morning cartoon villains. Chaotic and dramatic and fun and with a taste for blood but they're gonna mess their plans up in the goofiest way possible. The Evil Genius and The Evil Bloodthirsty Berserker and they both still have their honour deep down...

The question is...would Doc fall to Skizz's command? Or would Skizz completely surrender to Doc's? Or would they tussle with leadership until the bitter end? So many possibilities...

[queenarsinoethepoisoner]

I’m guessing that you know about everything that happened in the latest wild life episode but just in case, WARNING THIS HAS SPOILERS.

——————

Opinion on how fitting each power was for the life series members in the latest episode?

Martyn having listener abilities is just so AAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!

Plus Cleo got zombie minions while being a zombie.

And Lizzie could give people the blindness effect which basically plunges them into shadow!

I’m not normal about this.

Yea I’ve seen a few peoples episodes, and the superpowers are just so fun.

Martyn having listening abilities is insane!!!!!

Cleo’s was probably my favorite cus they’re literally Zombie Cleo, it just makes perfect sense that she���d have zombie powers

Lizzie’s I honestly didn’t even think of the fact that she became a “shadow lady” until I saw someone’s comment

To add:

Bdubs having powers to skip the night??? Like that’s, in my opinion, the most fitting power out of all of them. Slow down time is cus he wants the sun and day to last longer obviously

Scar having super strength when he is the one who usually has abs and whatnot on his skin, and being able to ride people is just the funniest to give to scar cus of all the out of context things

BigB being able to summon creakings??? The man who based in the pale forest and slowly being taken over by the creakings being able to SUMMON CREAKINGS???? Idk that one just is so crazy

Ren being able to change into others could (lore wise) be from that time he was Tango during wild life

Same with Gem, since she was Cleo in Limited life then she isn’t as tethered to the world as others. It also could be cus she was such a recent addition, the watchers don’t have as a good grasp on her

I can’t think of anything right now, but there’s gotta be something lore wise/angsty about how Grian doesn’t have a set power, he is only able to take others for a few minutes. Almost like the watchers don’t want to let him have any full power, just smaller doses of others

I don’t really know what to say about Tangos power, can’t really think of anything

Pearl essentially having an elytra, she’s a goddess trying to return to her higher place up in the clouds

That’s all I’ve got for now, might come back tomorrow with more after I’ve watched a few more povs

I’m also not normal about this

[imcringeonpurpose]

Ren has a doggish influence on Martyn, resulting in him slowly transforming to become more feral and canine than human.

During Limited Life, Scott has a similar influence. Martyn slowly adopts a pufferfish form. He grows closable gills, fins emerge from his neck, arms, legs, and head, and certain weak points develop from soft skin to hard, smooth scales. A few areas like his jaw, cheek, and knuckles also grow small, unnoticeable spikes that sink into others' skin and inject poison. Scott's influence isn't serious enough to allow Martyn's poison to be lethal, nor are the spikes large enough to inject a lethal dose, but they can still cause a headache, blurry vision, or distracting buzz in the ear.

However, despite all this, Martyn still pins his ear-fins back when he's trying to look dangerous. He growls and shows his teeth, which are the sharp teeth of a wolf, not the stubby beaks of a pufferfish. He ignores the spikes on his knuckles and continues to fight with a falchion.

He's never forgotten Ren.

And maybe, just maybe, the red coral that traces a spiked ring around Scott's head to protect his skull from swords... maybe it reminds him just a little bit of Ren and his crown. Just enough, at least, to perhaps invoke the same knightly devotion...

...to be fair, maybe Martyn's bright yellow ear-fins and his ferality and his loyalty... maybe they remind Scott of a certain canary. Just a little bit. Just enough.

[eluminium]

I think you mean the opposite? Maybe I'm just reading wrong but I think the theory is that Skizz is the source/origin/patient zero of the boogey curse because the only season post-3rd life to NOT have the boogey curse was Double Life, which also did not have Skizz. Last Life, Limited Life, and Secret Life all had some form of the Boogey curse, and Skizz was part of all of them. So the theory is that the pure manic bloodlust of Skizz's final moments in 3rd Life spawned the boogey curse in some way. Skizz mentioned liking this theory (that he originally found on Reddit) on the pod when they were talking about The Life Series.

EVERYTHING UNDER THE READ MORE IS ME THEORIZING FOR FUNSIES. LET ME COOK OKAY. I COOKED WITH THIS. PLEASE READ

There's also the fact that Skizz has NEVER been Boogey naturally, one of the only three people to have that title. The other two are Grian, a Watcher, and Cleo, who is undead. And it makes sense that Skizz has never gotten infected, you can't corrupt something that's already there. (YES I KNOW ABOUT SECRET LIFE BUT SHHH I HAVE AN EXPLANATION FOR THAT JUST YOU WAIT-)

Personally, I like the idea of the Watchers noticing the potential of Skizz's lingering madness after 3rd Life and using it to weave the boogey curse for their next killing game. I mean, he was the first to truly spill blood by perma-killing both Jimmy and Cleo before dying himself, what better source could you get for a curse hellbent on spilling as much blood as fast as possible?

You can also say that, in a way, the Boogey Curse is a dark reflection of Skizz. What Skizz's bloodlust is without the rationalizations and justifications he makes for himself. Skizz is at his heart loyal and honest, and he's always been that. He says and usually does only aim his manic bloodlust at those who he thinks deserve it. But at the end of the day, no matter how pretty you dress it up, Skizz's bloodlust is still violent and crazed and messy. And that's what the curse shows. By taking only the manic bloodlust and rage from Skizz and leaving all the loyalty and honor behind, it truly shows its ugly nature when placed in people with less altruistic mindsets and much more to lose. Every person who bears the curse reacts differently to it, but at the end of the day it's still selfish and cruel. Taking another life just to satisfy yourself and your own goals. And Skizz, the source, is no different. He might kill out of loyalty or a sense of justice, but he also kills to satisfy himself, whether he's aware of it or not. The Curse is just what Skizz is/would be without all the pretty justifications on top.

Hell, Skizz being the source of the Boogey Curse could even be the reason why he was absent in Double Life. His soul was too fragile after having to be the source of the First Boogey Curse for the entire season, so the Watchers temporarily took him out of the game to keep his soul safe so they could keep using him in the future. Then he returned in Limited Life to repeat the cycle.

But in Secret Life, despite Skizz's soul probably being fragile again, they didn't want to take Skizz or the curse completely out of the games because it makes so many tasty snacks. So they compromised by only using the Boogey Curse later in the game. But who did they give the curse to? Right, Gem. Who was infected with something from the End Dimension after opening the portal and turning yellow. And the Boogey Curse that sprouted from her was different from the traditional curse, behaving more like a plague and also including elements of teamwork and alliance, something the OG Boogey Curse was meant to completely destroy. Wouldn't it make sense that whatever was infecting Gem and the Skizz-sourced Boogey Curse meshed together to create something unique? A new sickness that, while having elements of the OG curse, was different enough to be its own thing? That would mean that Skizz wouldn't be Patient Zero for the Secret Life zombie boogey curse, that would be Gem. He wouldn't have his immunity anymore. Which left him open and vulnerable to the infection, just like the rest of his comrades.

It also plays into the Watchers losing their grip on the narrative of Secret Life, most noticeably seen with The Canary Curse not playing out as usual. In their hubris and greed, they put Skizz in the game despite his soul being fragile from carrying the weight of being the source of the Boogey Curse. They wanted the strife and discord, so they hastily threw the curse onto the new and already aggressive Gem assuming that it would play out as normal. But Gem was already infected with something else, that and the curse mutated into a loyalty plague, and everything spiraled out of control. The Watchers had no choice then to remove the curse from their game by the next session to regain control. But as we know, that control was gonna keep slipping away from them...

we do not talk about the skizz boogey curse theory enough. do you know insanely cool that is. why does no one talk abt it

[meteolojix]

"cause we lost too much to gain

we were dancing in the rain

tell me what i am to do

with a double dose of you."

— plastic promises : set it off

mean gills dancing together before the end <3

i am so happy with this piece, i think it turned out so well !!

scott is a mix of different fan artist interpretations i've seen of his limlife skin(s)! hence the pirate aesthetic, also used to match martyn's a little more! martyn's design is essentially the same as his limlife red life skin :)

(edit: retook the photo)

[fountainpenguin]

"No one lives forever~ Let's have a party; there's a full moon in the sky! It's the hour of the wolf and I don't wanna die..." (x)

---

New Dog's Life chapter today! ~ 3rd Life series fan-season

Chapter 35 - “Incendiary (BigB, Skizz, Etho, Scott)”

❤️ Read on AO3

💛 Start from Chapter 1

💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics

---

BigB visits a tipsy Scar. Skizz does paperwork. Etho sobs on the floor. Scott gets something to eat.

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

---

T-rated descriptions of BigB discussing cuddles with Ren

---

bigbst4tz2 - Moth (Ex-Illusioner)

Status: Increasingly concerned

City inspector, private investigator, and town crier

🖤  🧡  💚

This is getting intense. It's pinching at his hearts. I need a better observation post. Thank Beef for the card shop, though- and its rooftop bar. It's not exactly a night of snuggling and macaroni, but Pearl's whisper over comm gave him a good excuse to duck out. He likes Ren. But Ren's… a lot. It's charming to see him playing with the young fox hybrids. Jimmy's presence helped soak some energy too; it's easier, see, to handle Ren in small doses or with a bigger group. But it's nice to stretch. He needs time with his own thoughts now and then.

BigB lands in a fwump of wings. Not many people are up here tonight. Yeah, card games don't tend to be an instinct programmed into mob behavior. This place will be busier come new moon night. Three people sit at the barstools, talking to someone that BigB barely glanced at. They look heavily modded. No full moon pulls for them. Scar's here too. After what he glimpsed when Scar was on the floor with Scott, he'd be more surprised if he wasn't. Didn't Martyn crash through his roof? Yikes.

"Mind if I join you?" he asks over his shoulder. Scar looks up. He's drinking alone tonight. Again, don't blame him. Heavier than usual for him, isn't it? Raw binary code sparkles in his shot glass. Scar's eyes glint off-green, all dim and hazy. His soul traits haven't sprung up, though his form seems to be a little loose around the shoulders.

"Hello, BigB! No, not at all- pull up a seat if you'd like. What's the word on the streets these days?"

BigB's antennae twitch forward. He climbs on top of a short block stack at the edge of the roof- the corner spot where the fence post railing connects. Yeah, this will work. It's easier to sit on than the posts themselves and he gets a decent view of Headquarters. Scar's just two tables over, within prox chat distance. BigB gets himself situated, flapping out his wings. He cracks open the eyespots to soak in as much area as he can. "Well… Impulse and Tango got some farms approved. They're only authorized to run it for short periods of time and they're on trial to prove they can follow through with the ethics requirements, but we might get renewable iron rolling in pretty soon. Dude, that would be a game-changer."

"Oh, really?" Scar takes another sip of his drink. His vex wings flutter at his shoulders. BigB doesn't need to turn around to see that. "You know, I've always wondered why we have glowing iron golems in this dimension, but not glowing iron. It really makes you think. What a quad- quandary."

"Hmm… I guess because it's a programmed drop, not a literal part of their body."

"True!"

What a day. One of the longest ones he's experienced in a while, seeing as he had check-in work in the morning, a full two weeks of recording, and city inspection work when he went offline. BigB yawns, thrumming his wings. But Pearl asked him to keep an eye on Scott, and Scott's definitely up to something. He snuck out a window. This should be interesting.

"BigB?"

"What?"

"Do you think Grian would like me more if I was a worm?"

He rolls one of his eyespots, trying not to show expression otherwise. "I'm sure Grian likes you fine." If this is some jab at soulmates and Double Life, it's not one he's up for tonight. Though that thought does wiggle beneath his exoskeleton and bite at every heart.

I bet Ren would like me more if I were a giant world-eating worm.

Maybe he would've been into that in a way he wasn't into a soft and fluffy moth who loitered in the corners of his eyes, following instructions instead of bossing him around. And as he thinks that, he pinches his brow and rubs up and down. Ren checked every box when they were soulmates. He flirted and flounced and nuzzled while living at Box…

… but Ren's into things that BigB was never going to be able to give him, like fangs and drool and razor-sharp claws. He embraced the roleplay. Pretended there was something there. They were cuddling shirtless every night. Even carroting sometimes, foreheads pressed and mouths soft as they huffed against each other's necks. Hands sliding, fingers tracing spiracles they could both feel, even though they were only legitimate on BigB's skin. Arms wrapped around each other. Backs arched as they whispered and chased that little lip of lust and trust.

"Oh no," Scar says softly, mostly to his drink. "He might not recognize me if I'm a worm. Do you think Cub still would?" Cub loves me, Scar adds in his mind. BigB can hear that, like he can hear everything, because of the way Scar's throat constricts on individual words. It's subtle, but he can. Because BigB always listens, and he picks up everything.

He flicks an antenna, but otherwise ignores this, lost in his own thoughts and the cold hand resting on his face. It's almost not fair, you know… how everyone in Double Life got paired with someone they could learn to love. Maybe had loved in the past. And he and Ren had golden history, twirling around each other like a moth chasing flames in 3rd Life and Last Life too.

But loving Ren is a loser's game from the start, if you aren't someone like Martyn who was born with spiny wings and lashing tail and fangs and drool and claws. Ren's a performer and very good when guiding partners through a rush of carrots, but he was never going to fall in love with BigB the way BigB tried to fall in love with him.

It's not like he didn't try. He cuddled too. He responded with what felt like enthusiasm every time Ren pulled him in, licking his cheeks and running hands down his sides. Pulling him down on the bed and into his arms. Day after day, week after week, he mirrored the motions and fell in love. Even when he knew it wasn't real. When he lay his head on Ren's rising, falling chest and gazed up at his sleepy, bristle-covered face.

Ren's such a rugged and handsome man, honestly. He loves working in the dirt. Maybe it's a dog thing. Maybe he just likes plants and tiny creatures in the soil. He's got the muscles of someone who rolls huge boulders aside just to take a peek at ants and worms. Maybe a fungus.

And he's beautiful, and he loves so much, and it's all too much sometimes (because it isn't real). So with wings whispering at his back… BigB rested his cheek and curled his fingers, biting bare skin, and asked him for the truth.

"If I mod in some ears and fangs and maybe a tail, would that do something for you?"

[Full chapter on AO3 - Link at top]

[helios-the-stan]

Ooooh this is quite the twist for this season. So many lives and so many chaotic wild cards they could pull. Already the shrinking/growing thing seems so much fun lmao. I am also internally screeching about Ren and Martyn seemingly teaming up and praying to the Listeners and Watchers alike that they stick together. Treebark is back baby and it’s making up for lost time of not talking to each other with ten times our daily dose of content.

[derpqueen22]

Joel fails miserably

Inspired by @your-daily-dose-of-caffeine's fanart

The winds picked up as Joel climbed higher and higher, threatening to push him over the edge any minute. 98….99….100. As he placed the last block, he took a moment to think about what he was about to do. He could hear the muffled yelling from his friends gathering down beneath him, Martyn was slowly climbing up the pole, ready to take a guess at his task. He could almost hear Grian’s protests to ‘be careful’. Joel knew Grian was anxious. Why was he scared again? It wasn’t like Grian’s the one up here. He shook his head, clearing any thoughts that would prevent him from completing his task. Joel needed this. It was almost like someone was watching him, not from below, but from above, egging him to jump. Egging him to fall. Egging him to DIE. Joel jumped. The wind grew stronger and stronger at each minute of his fall, whistling in his ear. He could feel the pressure of the atmosphere getting stronger. He fumbled to get his water bucket out of his inventory. Why didn’t I have it in my hand in the first place?! I’m such a blummin idiot.  I should’ve come prepared. I’m such a- Pain shot through his legs, his consciousness was fading, he could hear Grian’s anguished scream, the audience was in shock, He missed the water! I can’t believe he missed the water!  Someone..someone was laughing, laughing at him. He struggled to look up to find the culprit,  just to see a black figure with looming wings, all his eyes (eyes?) were filled with humour. The figure resembled someone he knew, someone he thought he could trust. “Grian?” Joel muttered. And then he passed out.

[ilexdiapason]

exactly

Scott don't know wether to scold Martyn or be gentle with him but has to focus on the bleeding and for some reason Scott feels hurt when Martyn flinches from his touch (he reasons it's bc of the pain. it has to be the reson martyn flinched away, right?) but Scott focuses to stop the blood.

he gets it done and he forces Martyn to be on bedrest while he makes sure they survive and will get rescued.

and at some point while Scott is cleaning up the wounds/blood I kinda want this interaction:

Martyn - "Bloody herons" Scott - "Well, I'm not the one covered in blood, am I."

lmaoooo i love that. speaking of herons do you have plans for including the other faction stuff? e.g. is acho being in nightingales still a huge point of contention, does martyn have the same thing going on with the kestrels in a world where he's not new or does he operate factionless? i feel like with scott's "i grew up having my entire life as a heron planned out for me" business, any pirates majorwood has to have a healthy dose of guilt in it, because inter-faction fraternising is NOT what he was raised to do, and he probably feels like it's a betrayal of his upbringing

[megabuild]

8, 9, 10

forgive me in advance for flipping between series with these answers

8: common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

this one is actually kinda tricky cause theres a lot but like also not a lot(???) IDK... OH maybe this is unfair but i dont like life!grian as a bloodthirsty freak. like he IS don't get me wrong but it very much reads to me as a survival thing and part of his tendency to make things into games and i haaate that people act like he relishes in bloodshed or enjoys it... all based on like that one triple kill in 3rd life. he has things wrong with him for sure but any enjoyment he gets from violence feels like a front to me that will immediately collapse (eg the bigb kill in dl)

9: worst part of canon

oh this one is easy it(martyn inthelittlewood approaching behind me with a comically large bat)ummm. okay actually im legally obligated to say hermitcraft season 8 finale here even though i've warmed up to it and done my piece i just think the octagon and the arg sucked it appealed only to a very niche section of reddit fans it pulled the lore for the entire thing down to two povs and even then it didn't do anything cool or unique because you could tell it was a simulation from very early on and they didn't build upon that at all it just Was. if you like it then that's fair but it literally made me stop caring about hermitcraft for. i think ever technically because even now i barely watch it. oh well

10: worst part of fanon

watchersss WATCHERRRSSS EVERYTHINGS THE FUCKING WATCHERS AND LISTENERS and this can apply to literally any series because they infect everything like a PLAGUE I DONT CAAARE and this is coming from someone who thinks some watcher stuff has merit i've seen cool headcanons (blows a kiss to my muts) but 99% of the time it's so boring. and then everything you guys do infects canon too because (martyn littlewood approaching again) .just please get better ideas okay i love you guys. they're fun in little doses but when it's constant and you also forget the entire point of what they are its like. go do some meta thinking and come back instead of just making them scary villains PLEASE

[dream-sans-mogai]

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[eyelessfog]

eleven eleven eleven eleven

i have nothing to read and will foam at the mouth like a camel who's just seen the only water during a drought in months if you hand over your three favourite fics

Link your three favorite fics right now

Okay so the first one is a series actually :D lifeline au love of my life, go read it now pleaaase ty ^-^ its by @/slashmagpie !!! my friend my mutual my eswap shelby. It's a hermitcraft au and sooooo so good. has all your faves and a real good dose of magic, aliens and other fun things ^-^

Secondly, this one is by @/zed-ify who is also my mutual :D friend !!! this one is impdubs double life based and sooooo so good. guys who have marriage problems!!!

AND THIS ONE. whoo baby this is my obsession. third life based, timeloop story, centers impulse, guy who is having PROBLEMS. if you gave me the chance i'd drop the other third life timeloop au [that one centers martyn] im suchhh a sucker for timeloops its so good.

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[this one is an extra because um. i know im a mcyt blog but this fic gives me very certain feelings. its ace attorney, trucy based, and gives all these people a lot of emotions that they have to sort through. they're mean and theyre bad for each other and they feel things even though it isn't logical to feel them and they're all sooo so human. take it.]

[justalilpearlie]

Scar as pluto, Cleo as venus. Nobody can change my mind, but I *hope* I change yours /lh

Scar, the loneliest planet, some dont even consider it a planet, all alone, no friends. The furthest from the sun, cause idc what people say, his win had NOTHING to do with Grian, he won while being distanced from him. It's got 5 moons. In SL Scar killed 6 people, the last one being Pearl, but Pearl isnt just a moon to him, she's the person who lend him a hand and offered him a family, allies, even at the end, she wanted her mounders to win, and even if for just a day, Scar was a mounder aswell, Pearl who experienced that loneliness aswell in her own winning season, she's not just a moon more to him. Scar is Pluto.

Cleo, planet of love, loving and caring towards her allies, somewhat motherly. Orange planet. Can be seen somewhat easily in the sky along with mars, the moon and stars, close to them. Goddess of love in Roman Mythology (known as Aphrodite to the greeks), Aphrodite/Venus: lover of Ares/Mars, Cleo/Venus: soulbound to Martyn/Mars. She's also called quite a few of her teammates their husband in the past (Bdubs in 3rd life, Etho in limited life). Cleo is Venus.

I'm here to defend these ideals which ive added to my daily dose of life series enjoyment, however the arguements arent originally mine.

Credit for Pluto Scar argument: @pehpurr

Credit for Venus Cleo argument: @vexedcreature (sorry for the @)

scar as pluto. the loneliest planet

listen I’ll have a horse in the “do we continue the winners titles” thing when cleo wins until then I’ll let people who are bigger scar guys than me debate this one. however my brain did just go “Venus planet of love was destroyed by global warming” because I was obsessed with that song for a long while so. make of that whatever?

[activate-shadow-of-the-window]

Like You’re Caught in the Undertow

Notos - Notos - The Oh Hellos

-

Chapter 3 of Cracking like a dry branch in a westward wind, in which Martyn gets injured and coerced into being Tango’s official diplomat with chicken and potatoes. Contains description of broken bones, unconsciousness, and waking up in a hospital.

Available on AO3 here.

-

Tango was bored.

The day-night cycle of the overworld had quickly lost its novelty, as had the green-ness of everything, the peacefulness, the lack of heat. He had long ago stopped trying to imitate that cool, quiet feeling, knocking down the rounded roofs and mildly colored walls of his first city in favor of the dark and severe shapes of blackstone and basalt, the harsh colors of crimson and cyan, and, of course, the fire. Lots of fire. But never enough to make him feel warm.

Only his projects sparked any interest now; his tunnel-caves styled after those red brick fortresses, his breeding projects that crossed carefully managed hoglins and striders with pigs and horses, and the machines that maintain the last portal to his homeland. That is, until the messengers came.

Scar sent the first one, a terrified tuxedo cat in a three-piece suit. She stammered something about settlers from across the ocean, people with feathers and wings, whose boats had two hulls and whose weapons bore emeralds. The poor girl was so terrified of Tango that he had to dose her with temporary blindness just to get her to sleep.

He dismissed her rambling message as just another rumor the Duke of Colors though might liven up his far-flung ally’s mood. It was amusing, but not interesting.

A few days later, a battered husk stumbled into the Neverglades, bearing a letter in Cub Voidstars’ hand. The Red Rock Sovereign was more modest and realistic in his descriptions: yes, parrot-folk in catamarans had made landfall, yes, they wore emeralds on both jewelry and swords, and yes, they had settled in the Teal Cove. Cub also named the leader of these ‘Emeraldians’ as Grian of the Sunset.

The name was a bit on the nose for a fellow from the Land of the Sunset, but Tango trusted the half-vex, and so sent a courier of his own to extend his greetings to these birds. A nice diversion, but not a lengthy one. The parrot-folk slipped his mind, replaced by more machine ideas and schemes to return his good standing among the Netherfolk.

The parrot-folk would not return to the mind of the Basalt King.

Until one crashed into one of his stained glass windows.

It didn’t break the window, mind you. The glass is very sturdy. But the parrot did break a few bones.

“Broken wing, broken arm, a few cracked ribs,” the witch doctor commented, his potion bottles clacking as he set the parrot-folk’s injuries. “Probably going to have one hell of a headache and neck cramp for a while. Good thing for the helmet, else their skull would have broken too.”

Tango was holding that helmet now, quite fascinated with the metal it was made of. The outside was iron, for certain, and decorated with gold as well. But the inside…

“Damian?”

The skeleton guard straightened at the name, vertebrae grinding together a bit. “Yes, sir?”

“Could you tell Samantha that I’m coming through as soon as this fellow wakes up to ask her some questions? I think she’ll like this one.”

Damian saluted. “Yes, sir.”

His armored footsteps were still echoing from beyond the great door when Dr. Vincent pronounced his patient as healthy as potions and splints could make a fellow who just flew headfirst into what was essentially a stone wall. He and Natalia lifted the unconscious form onto a stretcher, great green wings splaying awkwardly as they struggled to keep the splints in place.

“Do make sure that none of the black cats hurt the poor thing,” Tango called after them, “I’ve read that they like to eat birds!”

-

Tango was there when the parrot-folk came to a few hours later. To be fair, as many off-duty skeletons and witches and humans were right outside the medical ward as could fit in the dark hallways, but the doctors wouldn’t let any in until their King had finished with… whatever he wanted to do with the bird.

They didn’t slowly wake up, squinting and confused. No, their eyes, their violet eyes, Tango noticed, snapped open wide with a gasp. If it weren’t for the weight of their casts and splints, he was sure they would have tried to get out of the bed and leave the room.

As those bright eyes darted around the room, Tango slowly approached them, taking care to rustle his long coat so that he would be noticed. With the sudden fear that sparked in the parrot-folk’s eyes when they landed on him, he was glad he had left his morningstar flail in the armory instead of gleaming at his hip.

He clasped both hands behind his back and leaned a bit closer to the parrot-folk with a smile. Or, what he hoped was a smile. “Hello! It’s good to see you awake. Do you remember crashing into a stained-glass window, colored crimson and cyan and gold?”

They blinked. Twice. Then they shook a lock of blonde hair out of their face, dislodged from their headband during the medical treatment. Then they blinked again before answering.

“Y-Yes? Yes, I do remember hitting a colored window…”

Tango smiled a bit wider, he hoped. The parrot-folk had a funny accent. “That’s good! The doctors say that if you remember what happened right before the… concussion! Concussion, yes, if you remember what happened before that, there isn’t any damage to your brain.”

He continued, slowly and carefully pacing about the room as he talked. “But you do have a broken arm— the right one, I hope that’s not your dominant one, but if it is, sorry, it will be out of commission for a bit —and a partially broken wing, also the right one. The doctors also say you’ve got some cracked ribs, but those are very easy to heal. You’ll just need to keep on tha—”

“Who are you?” The parrot-folk cut him off, fear showing plainly on their face.

“Oh, that is so rude of me! Sorry,” Tango apologized, holding out his hand, “My name is Tango Tek, Basalt King of the Neverglades! Pleased to meet you.”

The parrot-folk’s mouth worked wordlessly for a moment before they hesitantly grasped the offered hand. Theirs was very warm. “My name’s… Martin. Martin Junglewood.”

Tango grinned as they shook hands. “Jun-gle-wood! That’s an interesting last name, very interesting! Do all parrot-folk have names like that?”

Martin’s face was a study in very cautious bewilderment, as if he was looking at a talking lion. “Er, yes, most of us have names like that. Mine’s actually pretty generic. Lots of people have the last names of plants or… no, just plants.”

Tango hummed, absentmindedly fiddling with the recovery compass at his hip. “Plants’ names as last names… I guess it isn’t that different from ocelots taking fish names, or skeletons their favorite bone, or witches their potion specialty…”

-

Martyn looked on in slight fascination and far less slight fear as Tango paced about, mumbling something about ‘under-folk’ and ‘illager naming conventions’ and ‘what might Jevin have to say about this’. He didn’t exactly know what to expect when Grian had sent him to ‘visit the Neverglades and see if you can buy some basalt and gold for… I dunno, coco beans or something’, but to find their king to be a blue-haired, slightly glowing, very much not human man who radiated constant heat, ordered skeletons around, and fussed over family names certainly wasn’t it.

After a few minutes of watching him pace, he cleared his throat quietly, flinching at how quickly Tango’s head whipped around, those mismatched eyes boring into him. “Er, I’m sorry to interrupt you, but would it be possible for me to eat something? It’s just that I haven’t eaten since yesterday… or maybe two days ago.”

Tango looked puzzled for a moment, before realization dawned on his face. “Oh, right! Of course, I’ll get something brought over. What is it that you parrot-folk eat? Like, are you vegetarian or..?”

“N-No, I eat most things. Just no chocolate.”

The Basalt King nodded thoughtfully, as if Martyn had told him very important information. “I understand. The doctors say you shouldn’t eat anything too strong. Though they are skeletons, so I don’t know how much I trust them when it comes to digestion. Might as well heed their advice, though. What harm could it do?”

He walked to the doorway and stuck his head out into the hall, the murmurs going silent in an instant. “Hey, could one of you, and only one of you, get some baked potatoes and roast chicken and… uh, milk, I guess? Completely plain, mind you. No Nether stuff whatsoever. And only enough for two normal people. We aren’t feeding piglins in here.”

A chorus of dry Yes, sir’s echoed until Tango closed the door. Even then, clattering footsteps could be heard through the stone walls. The king sighed as he leaned against one wall, flicking a flame into existence with his gloved hand and making it dance. “Goodness knows they’ll take so long that it’ll be cold once it gets here. But I guess it isn’t their fault, having no need for food, much less a sense of temperature. Useful things, skeletons, but not terribly skilled. Witches, though, are smart as any piglin commander I’ve matched wits against. Very specialized though. Goodness knows how long it took me to find a decent slowness-caster…”

Tango kept on talking, seemingly ignoring Martyn entirely, except when he shaped the flame in his hand to accentuate whatever he was talking about. It was a monstrous thing with tusks, then a two-legged something or other, and then a strange, half-demolished whatsit. The king would switch from topic to topic like a leaping axolotl, and Martyn thought he could hold his own against any gossipy weaving girl.

A knock sounded at the door, startling Tango into crushing the flame. “Come on in.”

A skeleton opened the door, and proceeded to bring in a small pile of potatoes, perhaps a third of a roast chicken, and a large decanter filled with milk on a standing tray. Two dark glass cups, two bright blue plates, and two sets of black metal cutlery inlaid with gold joined the food on a tall wooden crate Tango dragged out from a corner. He waved the skeleton away, and once the door was closed, suspiciously sniffed the food.

A surprised look crossed his face. “Wow, it’s actually still warm! The cook’s getting a raise.”

-

Tango quickly heaped a plate with potatoes and chicken and poured a glass of milk for Martin, setting it on his lap before rigging himself a makeshift seat from a few crates of dried herbs. He was busily carving his chicken when he realized that the parrot hadn’t moved an inch.

“Oh, am I doing something wrong?” Tango asked, “Do parrot-folk have some sort of pre-meal prayer or greeting? Do you not use forks? I’m sure there are some Labyrinth chopsticks somewhere in the pantries—“

“T-Tango.” Martin’s stuttering voice, brimming with confusion and no small amount of fear, cut him off. “You’re doing nothing wrong, I assure you. It’s just, well, you’re a king. The ruler of the Neverglade, sitter of the Basalt Throne, commander of thousands of skeletons and witches and whatever the hell hoglins are! Why would a king be eating meat and potatoes with me? I’m just a messenger, a stranger from across the ocean, with feathers and claws and these damned violet eyes!”

Tango wasn’t sure what expression he was making, but he felt nothing but surprise and confusion. “Well, that is true. I am a king, ruler of the Neverglade, and I do sit on the Basalt Throne regularly. I do command thousands of skeletons and witches and hoglins and drowned and phantoms and such. But why would that have any bearing on me eating with you? You’re here, you’re hungry, I’m also here, I’m also hungry, and I like meat and potatoes. I do hope you like meat and potatoes. You’re also physically indisposed. Is this a cultural difference? I know there must be many, though I can’t say I’ve studied the parrot-folk in great detail yet—“

“Tango.” Martin says it more certainly this time. “Tango, this is more than a cultural difference. Kings and queens and dukes and duchesses and emperors aren’t normal people. They’re leaders, they’re generals, they’re… not like me.”

He said the last bit like it was a universal truth he had often repeated, the way Tango would have said ‘the Overworld is too cold’, or how Scar says everything.

The surprise and confusion remained in Tango, and he knew that they were painted across his face. “Well, that’s not true. I’ve met plenty of rulers ever since I left the Nether, and they’ve all been people. Different species, certainly; Cub’s half-vex, Pearl is of the hoof-folk, Jevin’s a slime, and I’m part-blaze-part-stray-part-human. But they’re all people. Even the bastion lords and fortress kings are enough like people to be called people. Is it different in the Land of the Sunset?”

Martin shook his head. “I-I… I wouldn’t know. You’re the first ruler I’ve ever spoken with normally, let alone shared a normal meal with. Unless you count Grian.”

Tango, who had finished three potatoes, a good deal of chicken, and a glass of milk between sentences, suddenly turned on Martin with a look not dissimilar to that of a cat spotting a bird. “You know Grian Sunset?”

-

Martyn jerked back as far as he could in reaction to Tango’s sudden approach. Which wasn’t very far; all three casts were very heavy. “Y-Yes, I do know Grian. We’re, uh, old friends. Yeah.”

Despite his extremely obvious stammering and nervous voice, Tango didn’t seem to notice. At least, he didn’t find anything wrong about it.

“Really? Oh, that is fantastic! I’ve honestly haven’t had the time to do much more than send my greetings to Grian, but you—“ he pointed a finger at Martyn “—are going to change that!”

“I-I am?”

Tango nodded vigorously. “Of course! You can’t very well travel until those injuries are at least mostly healed, after all. I’ve got plenty of living space and food, so it’s no trouble for you to stay for a while. Not in the hospital, of course! A proper set of rooms, yes, perhaps in the Glowhorn Spires..? Never mind that! Point is, while you’re recovering, I’m going to pick your brain about Grian and the Land of the Sunset! How does that sound?”

Martyn was still processing the king’s first few sentences when he declared his intentions, causing his mouth to drop open in undisguised surprise. Once again, Tango didn’t seem to notice or care.

“W-Would this be an official deal? Like, a treaty or agreement between your, uh, Neverglades and Grian’s… Sunset Coast?”

Tango tilted his head, a motion eerily similar to Grian’s own ‘curiosity pose’. “Well, if you’d like it to be. OH! Did you say Grian’s settlement is called the Sunset Coast? Fitting name, I suppose. It pays homage to his homeland, and is accurate to its location, right next to Cub’s wooded plateaus… Oh, sorry! An official agreement, right! Sure, sure. I’ll send for paper and ink... and a proper table!”

-

Tango Tek and Martyn Junglewood signed a treaty of sorts that day, a short and simple document that declared Martyn to be an ‘official diplomat on behalf of the Sunset Coast to the Neverglades, for the purpose of informing the latter nation-civilization of the former’s customs’, and Tango guaranteed him ‘good room, board, food, water, clothing, and all things guaranteed by the laws of both nation-civilizations involved to an official of Martyn’s rank’.

The Basalt King signed the parchment with a flourish of dark blue ink, grinning with pride that he was finally able to show off the penmanship skills that the Netherfolk disregarded so greatly. Martyn’s signature was rather shaky thanks to his broken right arm, yet much more legible in the same ink. Tango’s odd herald, a witch with perpetually night-vision-dilated pupils, announced to the massive gathering of Nevergladians outside the hospital windows that the Treaty of Blackbone Hospital was complete, evoking a great cheer of voices and clattering bones. Martyn nearly fainted at the noise.

-

The news of the treaty spread across Mainland fast as the dolphin swims, but it reached Grian’s ears quicker even than that. Clad in a construction helmet of iron and perched on the edge of one of his unfinished towers, the newly declared Sitter of the Dusk Throne sighed as he gazed north. The dying light of the sun made the water below glitter.

“For goodness sake, it was just supposed to be a trade trip! I reckon Martyn didn’t even secure that gold. Oh well. I guess it could be worse. I suppose I’m friendly with King Tango now…”

-

Cub couldn’t help but grin when the Dusk Sitter’s messenger arrived, nearly bowling over Tango’s odd little skeleton as they both tumbled into the hallways. Both bird and bones told him the same story; the Basalt and Dusk Thrones were friendly, a bird called Martyn Junglewood was the new ambassador to the Neverglades, a counterpart would soon arrive at the Sunset Coast, and would Climbing Spires object to this arrangement?

The Sovereign shook his head at the last question. “Of course not. The Coast is free to do as their Sitter wishes, as is the Neverglades. Besides, Tango is hardly an enemy. I do hope I can get to know him better myself.”

[daisycraft]

strange pull between a councillor and a knight that had never met before yet feel like they have… you need to tell us more about how they took figuring that out :eyes:

Well...

The first time they meet isn't actually the Shadowlands Winter Gala. In fact, they met briefly during the war in the South! When raiders began attacking and burning southern villages, Martyn sent messages callling for aid to the closest kingdoms. The Shadowlands responded, and they spot each other briefly as Ren comes in from a scouting patrol to report to Lizzie, the newly-crowned Shadow Queen at the time. There was an odd recognition, as Martyn stood with his reports in his mail bag and Ren lingered for a moment, perched on his horse, before he turns to catch up with the brigade riding away.    It was the Southern Raids and Martyn being invaluable during his efforts in it, bringing him up to nobility, that allows them to meet again.

Truly, it took time! Especially when meetings came in few, with Ren unable to leave the Shadowlands often, and Martyn only able to visit under the early guise of foreign political affairs to sort with the Queen. After all, they're a newly united faction, they must iron their creases with their new ally.    So Martyn begins to frequent the Shadowlands, half out of actual business and half out of wanting to know what that feeling is. His schedule is more flexible than Ren's, and he manages to find his ways to dance around it. Because, oh, your Majesty, you have such a lovely capital, I'd love to take the afternoon to explore- I'm sure your most loyal knight would be kind enough to indulge me?    At first, it begins as moments disguised as kind gestures-- Martyn asking Ren to dance. Ren touring Martyn around the Shadowlands capital. Small doses of bonding where they could talk just between them, properly get to know each other and try to dig into the strange feeling they both share, while still remaining professional. But then their patience gets pulled thin; organized professional outings turns into stolen private moments where they both “coincidentally” find themselves outside of a busy party. Ren and Martyn sitting together, on a bench in a moonlit courtyard, watching the leaves of the garden’s tree. Talking quietly, quieter than the wind, lest they be discovered together.

   There is a point, later down the line, where Martyn and Ren running into each other isn’t even purposeful. Especially not in a library in a central kingdom, where they are each separately guided to old books upon the dusty shelves, in the dark aisles far from the gala they’ve escaped from. When their hair is suddenly swept by a cold wind despite the fact they’re indoors. When they tuck the books, Ren’s this gorgeous ivy green and Martyn’s a deep burgundy, beneath their arms. When they hear voices echoing down the marble halls, hearing the laughter and calling from another leader’s knight, a foreign councillor.    And, like they always happen to do, they follow the familiar man.