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anim-ttrpgs · 9 months ago

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Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy, and Themes of Disability, Mental Illness, and Criminality.

Back Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy on kickstarter before May 10th if you want to help a disabled person with limited ability to work pay his bills.

Verisimilitude, What Would a Person Do?

To understand Eureka’s themes regarding disability, mental illness, and criminality, you first have to understand its verisimilitude.

“Verisimilitude” is defined as “the appearance of being true or real,” and it is a big part of the core design ethos behind Eureka. It is a very realistic game.

We aren’t necessarily of the opinion that “realism” is a better design choice than stylization overall for RPGs, but it is a better design choice for Eureka, because we want the PCs to be very normal, believable people who make believable, organic decisions in extraordinary situations. No matter what anyone says, the mechanics of a TTRPG strongly influence what kind of stories are told with it, and what characters do in those stories. So if we want characters to make realistic decisions, the world they inhabit and interact with must be constructed of realistic rules.

Even though there is a small chance that they may be a supernatural creature, PCs in Eureka are still not fearless action heroes, chosen ones, or anything of the sort. They’re normal people with jobs, friends, and families who get mixed up in mysterious and/or dangerous situations, often against their will. They are fragile, vulnerable, imperfect, and they, largely, know it.

“Composure” is a mechanic that helps you know it too. I’ve given a deeper explanation of the Composure mechanic in the post linked here, but I’ll give a very very very condensed version in this post. Composure can sort of be thought of as “emotional/fatigue HP,” (and no, it is NOT “sanity”) it acts as a guideline for how well your character is handling the situation, and when it gets low enough, it starts to have serious mechanical effects as well, because a character’s stat modifier can never be higher than their current Composure level. Fear, hunger, and fatigue all lower Composure, and eating, sleeping, and bonding with one’s fellow investigators can all restore it, at least for normal people. More on that further down. All you really need to know for now is that when Composure gets below zero it starts eating into HP, so characters can even pass out or die from loss of Composure, and also one single bullet is enough to permanently cripple a character, and the rate of Composure loss during combat reflects how serious that is for the characters.

Grievous Wounds

It isn’t too uncommon for RPGs to have some sort of “flaw” system, whereby in character creation you can give your PC “flaws” or some kind of penalty, and usually get that balanced out by being able to add extra bonuses elsewhere, and these “flaws” may take the form of disabilities.

Critical Role’s Candela Obscura, the whole document of which is one of the most egregious examples of liberalism and toxic positivity I’ve ever seen in the TTRPG space, takes this beyond just character creation, and makes it so that if a PC receives a “scar” in combat that reduces their physical stats, their mental stats automatically go up by an equivalent amount, and proudly asserts that to make any mechanic which functions otherwise is ableist. I think you can probably tell what I think of that from this sentence alone and I don’t need to elaborate. Getting bogged down in all the failures, mechanical and moral, of Candela Obscura would make this post three times as long.

I actually do think that as long as you aren’t moralizing and patting yourself on the back this hard about it, “flaw” systems in character creation are a pretty good idea in most cases, it allows for more varied options during character creation, while preserving game balance between the PCs.

But in real life, people aren’t balanced. The events that left me injured and disabled didn’t make me smarter or better at anything—if anything, they probably made me stupider, considering the severity of the concussion! Some things happened to me, and now I’m worse. There’s no upside, I just have to keep going by trying harder with a less efficient body, and rely more on others in situations where I am no longer capable of perfect self-sufficiency.

Denying that a disabled person is, by definition, less capable of doing important tasks than the average person is to deny that they need help, and to deny that they need help is to enable a refusal to help.

This is the perspective from which Eureka’s Grievous Wounds mechanic was written.

When a character is reduced to 1 HP, which by design can result from a single hit from most weapons, they may become incapacitated, or they may take a Grievous Wound, which is a permanent injury with no stat benefits. Think twice before getting into a shootout.

Grievous Wounds don’t have to result from combat, they can also be given to a character during character creation, but not as a trade-off for an extra bonus.

“But then doesn’t my character just have worse stats than the rest of the party?” Yes, didn’t you read the above section? There is no benefit, except for the opportunity to play a disabled character in an TTRPG, and this character will probably have to be more reliant on the rest of the party to get by in various situations. Is that a bad thing?

Monsters

Just like mundane people in Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy, monsters are playable, because they are regular people. I’ve gone over this in other posts and also you can just read about it in Chapter 8 of the Eureka rulebook, but the setting of Eureka doesn’t have a conspiracy or “masquerade” hiding or separating supernatural people from normal society. They exist within normal society, and a lot of them eat people.

Most RPGs consider monsters to just be evil, they do evil for evil’s sake. RPGs that seek to subvert this expectation often instead make monsters misunderstood and wrongfully persecuted, but harmless. Eureka takes a wholly different approach.

There are five playable types of monsters in the rulebook right now, and it’ll be seven if we hit all the stretch goals, but for simplicity’s sake this post will just focus on the vampire. Despite them applying in different ways, the same overall themes apply to nearly every monster, so if you get the themes for the vampire, you’ll get the gist of what Eureka is doing with monsters in general.

I mentioned Composure above, and how it can normally be restored by eating food and sleeping. Well, vampires can not restore their Composure this way. They don’t sleep, and normal people food might be tasty as long as it isn’t too heavily seasoned for them, but it doesn’t do anything for them nutritionally. Their main way to restore Composure is fresh living human blood, straight from the source. To do what mundane PCs do normally by just eating and sleeping, vampires have to take from another, whether they’re happy with this arrangement or not. They do not, of course, literally have to, and a player is not forced to make their vampire PC drink blood, just like you don’t literally have to eat food, but they do and you do if you want to live in any degree of comfort or happiness, or else they’d eventually just sit at 0 Composure and not be able to effectively do anything.

There’s a reason that this is a numerical mechanic and not simply a rule that says something like “this character is a vampire and therefore they must drink blood once every session,” and that is to emphasize and demonstrate that the circumstances a person faces drive their behavior. In America, there is a tendency to think of criminality and harmfulness as resulting from something of an intrinsic evil, but in my experience and observation, people do not just wake up at like age 16 and decide “I think I’ll go down the criminal life path.” Through their life circumstances they have been barred from the opportunities that would have given them other options. People need food, food costs money, money requires work, work requires getting hired, but getting hired requires a nearby job opening, an education, an impressive resume, nice clean clothes, a charismatic attitude, consistent transportation, and so on. For people without, criminality is something they are funneled into, which becomes harder to avoid the longer they go without consistent access to their basic needs. The choice will be between taking money from others by force or trickery, or running completely out of money.

As the Composure counter ticks down, a vampire, or other playable monster, is going to encounter much the same dilemma. There is little to no “legal” or “harmless” way for them to get their needs met, even if they do have some money. Society just isn’t set up for that. And no your kink is not the solution to this, trying to suggest every vampire get into sex work is like one step removed from telling every girl she should just get an OnlyFans the minute she turns 18, or that women should just marry a man and be a housewife that gets taken care of if they want their needs met.

Playable monsters in Eureka are dangerous, harmful people. They were set up to be.

“Oh well then the vampire should just eat bad people!” You mean those same bad people i just described above? See this post for answers to all the other arguments people are going to make to try and absolve vampires of causing harm.

Society not being set up for that brings me to next reading/theme: Monstrousness as disability, and monsters as takers.

Mundane human characters restore 2 points of Composure per day just by eating food and sleeping, but vampires do not, they can’t. To restore their Composure they have to take from others a valuable resource that everyone needs to live and the extraction of which is excruciatingly painful and debilitating (blood). No one knows what happens to blood after a vampire drinks it, it’s just gone. Vampires are open wounds through which blood pours out of the universe.

This is a special need, something they have to take but cannot give back. Their special needs make them literally a drain on society and the world.

Even in so-called “progressive” spaces, there is a tendency to consider takers, people who take much more than they give back, such as disabled people, as something that needs to be pruned, with the mask over this being the aforementioned total denial of the fact that disabled people take more than they can give.

In this way, vampires and other playable monsters are, inarguably, “takers,” but in positioning them as protagonists right beside mundane protagonists, Eureka puts you in their shoes, and forces you to at least reckon with the circumstances that make them this way, as well as acknowledge their inner lives. You have to acknowledge two things: That they are dangerous, harmful people who take more than they can give, and that they are people. Because they are people, Eureka asserts that they have inherent value, a right to exist, and a right to do what they need to do to exist.

One final point is that of monstrousness as mental illness. Mental illness is a disability, one pretty comparable to physical disability in a lot of ways, so all of the above about disability can apply to this metaphor as well, but there are a few unique comparisons to make here.

It’s not the most efficient, but there are a couple of loopholes deliberately left in the rules that allow vampires to restore Composure without drinking blood. Eureka! moments can restore Composure, and Comfort checks from fellow investigators can restore Composure.

When I was writing the rules for how monsters regain Composure in accordance to these themes, I came to a dilemma where I wasn’t sure if it was thematically appropriate for them to be able to regain Composure in these ways, but ultimately I decided that yes, they can. It works with themes of mental illness, which is mental disability.

People with mental illnesses may have the potential to be harmful and dangerous, but study after study, including my own observation, has shown that mentally ill people with robust support structures and agency allowed to them to handle tasks are much less likely to enact harm, be that physical violence, relational violence, or violence against the self. So that’s why I kept that rule in for playable monsters. Being able to accomplish goals, and having friends who are there for them, makes the harmful person less likely to cause unnecessary harm.

I couldn’t really figure out where to fit this paragraph in so I’m sticking it here right before the conclusion: Vampires are especially great for this because they’re immortal, and because they always come back when “killed.” They can’t be exterminated, they aren’t going away, there will always be problem people in society, no matter how utopian or “progressive.” They’re a never-ending curse, who will always be a problem. The question is how you will handle them, not how you will get rid of them.

In conclusion,

Eureka is as much a study of the characters themselves as it is the mystery being solved by the characters. It is a harsh, but compassionate game, that argues through its own gameplay that yes, people do have needs which drive their behavior, many people do have special needs that are beyond their ability to reciprocate, and failure to meet the needs of even a small number of people in a society has high potential to harm the entire society, not just those individuals whose needs are unmet.

And Candela Obscura sucks.

Back Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy on kickstarter before May 10th if you want to help a disabled person with limited ability to work pay his bills.

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frozenjokes · 9 months ago

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Etho Really Should Explain Literally Anything To Mumbo, But It’s A Long Story And He Can’t Be Bothered

Mermaids weren’t very loud creatures, not at all. They could be when they wanted; the purpose of song was to be heard after all, but song was a deliberate action, to hunt, to heal, to love.

A mermaid in distress was not loud, per se. Not like humans; yelling, whining, flailing about, no, nothing purposeful, but they did stand out with too-frequent click, click, clicks of a soul that was very lost, that didn’t feel grounded in their environment.

And it wasn’t always obvious, not in the deep. Everyone was clicking all of the time in the deep, the soft rhythm of home. To navigate, to gauge how another was feeling, to keep from running into rocks or homes or gardens or each other- well, they still ran into each other quite a bit, but the point stands.

In places with less mermaids however, it was very obvious when someone was struggling, and this close to the surface, Mumbo could hear telltale mermaid clicks from a mile away. Nine times out of ten, if a mermaid was near the surface Mumbo would be surprised if they weren’t lost, so he kicked away from the gentle current he was riding and made toward the noise.

The clicking heightened as Mumbo neared, then slowed, recognition of another presence. Mumbo was close enough to sense the rapid movement of fins with his own clicks; up and down, up and down, but with unadjusted eyes from spending so long in the deep, he still couldn’t quite see them. Regardless, it was clear that this mermaid was apprehensive about his approach, so he slowed his pace, hoping the stranger would understand he was friendly.

‘Do you need help?’ Mumbo whistled once in earshot, keeping a healthy distance. There was something unnerving about this mermaid that kept him on edge, kept his fins twitching. He just couldn’t- see them. Now, again, he couldn’t see much of anything, but he could understand shapes, especially ones as big as him. And Mumbo knew where the stranger should be; they weren’t exactly moving much and clicking was an accurate measurement of space, but there was no dark blob where he expected one to be. Mumbo squinted, but it was no use.

‘Need to go to the surface. Urgent. Got swept away by the storm,’ the mermaid answered after an uncomfortable pause, and that was odd too. Why were they speaking so stilted? And why did they wait so long to answer? But then Mumbo processed the words, and excitement swallowed his apprehension. The surface? Did this mermaid like to visit the surface as well?

‘That’s where I’m going! I’ll take you.’ Mumbo couldn’t help the soft trill that rose behind his words, diving a little closer as curiosity got the better of him. The stranger’s fins flared briefly, surprise, and Mumbo gave a few amused clicks in return.

‘Really?’ they said, the lilt of the word higher than it should’ve been; a quite endearing expression of excitement, or maybe surprise? Entirely odd- mermaids didn’t usually express themselves in that way. Mumbo wondered where this one was from. ‘Can you take me-’ the mermaid stopped suddenly, frustration twitching through their fins before they flicked their tail, a silent ‘nevermind.’

‘I know a safe place,’ Mumbo tried, hoping that would sate them. Did this mermaid travel the surface or something? Did they name different places they’d explored? Oh, Mumbo longed to know more. ‘Call me Mumbo?’

‘Anywhere there’s land is fine. Call me Ghost’

Ghost! Goodness! ‘Do they call you that because you’re invisible?’ The words were out of his mouth before Mumbo could help himself, but Ghost didn’t seem to mind, an amused chirp bubbling forward.

‘You’ve been deep for a while?’

Mumbo drew into himself in a gentle show of embarrassment. ‘Yes. I like to visit the surface often, but couldn’t for some time. Bad injury. This is my first time back since then.’

Ghost closed the rest of the distance between them, and Mumbo started to see a shape through the water, though not concretely. ‘I’m light colored, different. I won’t stand out where there’s so much sun, not like you do.’ And there was that higher lilt again, almost distorting Ghost’s words to the point of changing their meaning. Why were they doing that? Mumbo could tell their amusement from their body language; was this like- double amused? Maybe it wasn’t amusement at all- Mumbo probably shouldn’t be applying human habits to mermaids, but that was just it. It sounded so human. Had Ghost spent a lot of time around them?

Mumbo didn’t get the chance to ask. Ghost stilled for a moment, a distinctly unnatural, tense movement, before a horrible wheezing sound left their throat, gills flaring so wide Mumbo could sense the spasming through his own distressed clicks, clicking which grew in rapid, panicked frequency. What- What was happening? Ghost made a horrible choking sound, bubbles trailing through their teeth, and Mumbo pressed a frightened hand to their chest, desperate to figure out what was wrong with their gills.

Ghost’s tail whipped against Mumbo’s own in a bruising slam, propelling the other out of reach, but Mumbo couldn’t help but follow closely, unable to understand and longing to help- but how could he? It- it sounded like Ghost was drowning.

And then it stopped. As suddenly as they’d stopped breathing, Ghost started again like nothing was wrong. Like they were just fine.

‘Sorry about that,’ Ghost clicked, fins frighteningly calm for what must have been a terrifying experience. Mumbo’s own fins were flat against his back, wary and afraid, but Ghost didn’t seem the least bit bothered, if anything, just looking a little annoyed. ‘It’s urgent I get to the surface.’

They didn’t elaborate further, and Mumbo couldn’t do much else but stare, a cross between utterly perplexed and extraordinarily frightened. He wanted to ask further, but maybe this was a personal issue-? It would be rude to probe about this mermaid’s health, surely. Maybe it had something to do with their light scales? What if light scaled mermaids needed sunlight to survive? Whatever the case, Mumbo took ‘urgent’ seriously this time, kicking off on a swift pace toward the surface, and was relieved to hear Ghost following close behind.

To Mumbo’s great distress, Ghost had another ‘drowning attack’ around thirty minutes later before they reached the outlet into the river, but they didn’t seem too bothered, so Mumbo tried (and failed) not to worry as well, simply hoping that once they made it to the lake cove, everything would be fine. Honestly, it was a little unnerving how relaxed Ghost was acting for a mer who sounded like they were dying a minute ago (and potentially on a regular basis?), but maybe Mumbo was misreading them. After all, they did have a couple odd mannerisms, and with the sun so bright this close to open air, Mumbo was just as blind as he was in the deep.

He’d forgotten how much the sun hurt when he was away for so long; a real shame, since he had really been looking forward to seeing Ghost. In all fairness, Mumbo hadn’t actually seen many mermaids at all, but for the most part their scales were dark and inky, with traces of color along their fins from a time when mermaids lived in places the light could reach. The idea of a pale colored mermaid was fascinating, and Mumbo was quite keen on seeing them with adjusted eyes.

As the two of them swam down the channel, Mumbo’s thoughts drifted to his humans, a gentle ache in his chest as he wondered if he would ever see them again. He was gone for so long, what if they didn’t think he was coming back? Did they still think about him? Oh, he hoped they were doing well. Grian hadn’t been in a good state.. Mumbo only hoped he’d made the right choice by leaving.

He stopped short as he remembered Ghost; even though Mumbo would be shocked to see his humans at the cove, he should probably give them a heads up regardless.

‘A warning,’ he whistled, and continued when Ghost flicked their fins as an indication they heard, ‘Humans visit my place sometimes. It has been a long time since I’ve been up, and they come to see me, so I doubt they’ll be around, but I thought you should know. They are friendly, in any case. Nothing to worry about.’

Ghost clicked to themself, an indication of quiet thought, though Mumbo was relieved that they didn’t seem too alarmed. ‘Should be out of there before that becomes a problem,’ they mused, ‘But you should be careful. Humans are greedy things. Take advantage of nice mers like you.’

‘No, no, not these. They want to learn about me. I want to learn about them. They’re sweet, they took care of me when my tail was broken. Well. They tried. I’ve brought them back a few things from the deep to show them if they ever return.’

Ghost hummed to themself in quiet thought before whistling, ‘Sentimental,’ and Mumbo wasn’t quite sure if they were referring to him or the humans. Probably true either way.

‘They’re nothing to worry about.’

‘Either way, I’ll be gone.’ Ghost gave a dismissive flick of their fins, and Mumbo pushed away disappointment. He figured if Ghost explored the surface, they’d surely met or at least seen a handful of humans, but they didn’t seem to care at all. Maybe humans were just another animal to Ghost, nothing to write home about. Mumbo couldn’t imagine being so disinterested. Humans made tools- they were engineers! Mumbo couldn’t think of a species more fascinating if he tried.

Regardless, he took them through the inlet that led to the lake, hoping if it was sun that Ghost needed, they would get plenty of it here. It wasn’t easy to keep track of Ghost’s breathing, not when Mumbo couldn’t see, but he did his best to listen, even if Ghost didn’t seem to want any assistance. Mumbo couldn’t help himself. How could anyone? At the very least, if Ghost did start drowning(?) again, they were in shallow enough water that they could surface for air.

Relief swamped Mumbo when they finally broke through to the lake, especially when behind him, it seemed like Ghost was beginning to breathe a bit more shallowly. Mumbo had planned on scouting ahead for his humans, just in case, but Ghost didn’t give him the chance, tearing ahead toward the beach in what Mumbo hoped was excitement.

It was a beautiful day, the water warm in Mumbo’s pleasant little alcove, and just being here after so long lifted his mood, a soft, sighing trill leaving his throat as his tail brushed the sandy shallows. Ghost had already fixed themself at the shore, head almost completely out of the water as they sprawled, fins waving contentedly. Maybe it really was sunlight they needed; Mumbo would be hard pressed to remember a mermaid in his past that looked more relaxed. And they seemed to be breathing well too, perfect.

‘This is a good place, very good,’ Ghost said, though there was something breathy about the whistle, like it wasn’t quite coming out right, ‘I can see where your humans come in and out. That will make things easier for me.’

‘The brush is still pretty flattened, isn’t it,’ Mumbo spoke with a wistful glance toward the path emerging from the woods, though it was far more overgrown than before. Mumbo’s stomach churned as he stared, anxiety hiking up in his chest. It really did look like it had been a while since anyone came through. He blinked, fins flicking as he processed the rest of what Ghost had said. ‘How do you mean?’

Ghost gave a non-committal flick of their tail, the end splashing lazily as it landed back in the water, ‘Don’t worry about it. Long story. Impatient, stupid friend.’ Ghost’s fins twitched irritably at the last sentiment, and kept twitching long after, their mood seeming to sour.

Mumbo would have loved to hear; he had plenty of time after all, but Ghost didn’t look like they wanted to share, so he left well enough alone, leaving them in the shallows to check on his roots and vines. Oh, everything had grown so much! Instantly he was preoccupied, meticulously combing through every plant, pulling up the longest, sturdiest strands, and placing them lengthwise on the shore. Mumbo didn’t know what he was going to do with this yet, but he was sure he could make some really sturdy rope- oh, he was so excited! Ghost seemed to be amused by his antics, keeping a curious eye on Mumbo’s activity. They didn’t ask any questions, a shame since Mumbo would have loved to chat, but oh well, not all mermaids were talkative. He appreciated the company regardless.

Mumbo worked in silence for a good while, humming to himself as he got into a groove. Through squinted eyes, he found a few wildflowers near the shore, and wondered if his humans would like them or if Ghost valued pretty things like he did. Mumbo pulled himself up the short ledge to get a better look, embarking on a grand distraction that took him some ways from the water’s edge in search of different flowers. Mumbo loved color, and he loved finding new colors. Things could get so dull in the water, even outside of the deep, but everything on the surface was so vibrant!

The first few times he had ventured out of the deep, he’d spent hours and hours just looking at himself, the reds and pinks shimmering through his fins so bright and beautiful, especially above the water. In low light, his fins were as black as the rest of his scales, so seeing the sun hit them for the first time was a delightful surprise. If only he didn’t have to wait so long to see the world properly. Truly, the best thing about spending all those weeks on the surface, even injured, was taking in the environment, the color, the everything. There was truly nothing like it in the deep.

Speaking of not being able to see, after accidentally crushing a few flowers, Mumbo forced himself to retreat back to the water. Blind mermaids didn’t get nice things, not after killing a bunch of them.

But after the rippling sound of Mumbo’s re-entrance into the lake subsided, ragged, strained breathing replaced the noise, filling the quiet with Ghost’s sick struggling. Mumbo was at their side in an instant, his fear-raised fins contrasting Ghost’s own, flat against their body and quivering gently. Mumbo’s eyes had adjusted enough to see their pale form, truly devoid of almost all color apart from splotches of salmon pink that painted their fins and skin. Mumbo squinted, alarm lighting his veins when he couldn’t find Ghost’s gills.

‘Space, please. I’m fine,’ they said, extraordinarily unconvincingly, ‘Impatient, stupid friend on their way. Very stupid. Very impatient. Will be here soon. You might want to leave until they’re gone.’ Their whistles and clicks were quiet and weak, similar to the brief moment from before, but much worse, like Ghost was struggling to speak at all.

‘You’re dying. I’m not leaving.’

‘I’m not dying.’

‘You’re dying!’

‘This is normal.’

‘It most certainly is not!’

Ghost hissed pointedly, fins slapping the water with how hard Ghost was flicking them. Incredibly rude, honestly, but given the circumstances, Mumbo was willing to forget it. He just wished this mer wasn’t so damn stubborn.

‘Stupid friend is poor company. Go away.’ Ghost bared their teeth briefly, and Mumbo’s tail tip lashed, splashing in the shallow water. He backed up, giving the requested space, but did not leave. Ghost huffed, but did not try to send him away again.

Mumbo shifted his attention to helping instead, on singing some sort of comfort (a gesture which seemed to annoy Ghost; Mumbo really couldn’t win with this mer, could he), and doing whatever he could that wouldn’t end with him being hissed at. Which is to say, not much. Given his focus, he didn’t notice the distant disturbance from the woods, not until it grew in volume, aggressive and clumsy and steadily getting closer. There was something uncoordinated about the noise as well, snagging and stumbling that set Mumbo’s fins on end, like the thing it belonged to was unfamiliar with the forest, or simply didn’t care. Well- thing. It was quite obviously a human. Nothing else was so loud, so careless.

Mumbo shrank back when the human burst through the clearing, but it didn’t even notice the two mermaids, instead hunching over its knees with heaving breaths, so ragged they almost sounded like growls. Mumbo was entirely tense from fingers to tail tip, fins on end and quivering, while Ghost looked little more than bored, or maybe just pained; it was difficult to tell with fins so lax. This couldn’t be the friend they were talking about, could it? Ghost hadn’t said a word when Mumbo talked of his own human friends; if anything, Ghost had sounded entirely disinterested. Maybe they were too sick to care about a threat in the clearing? Whatever the case, Mumbo would take care of it.

“Got your bloody clothes, Etho, christ, you didn’t make it easy to find you. Couldn’t have gone anywhere else huh?” The human tossed the bag off its back and into the sand, “This is a nice location though, for the future,” it mumbled, “Close to the river. Lots of options.”

It didn’t even look up as it shed some of its clothes, stumbling toward the water with a distinctly unsettling gait, legs shaking violently- was it sick? Either way, Mumbo didn’t want it anywhere near him. Mumbo spat a long, rattling hiss, satisfied as the human fell back into the sand, eyes wide enough for Mumbo to see in his half-blind state. It was a similar size as Grian, smaller without most of its clothes, with long, almost matted looking hair. Beside him, Ghost made an odd noise, almost reminiscent of a human laugh. Clearly they were getting sicker by the moment, no, no, Mumbo wouldn’t let this human anywhere near them, not when they couldn’t defend themself.

“Etho!” the human squeaked, shuffling back on uncoordinated limbs, “Who is this? Tell ‘im off! Tell ‘im off!” Something like slits across its neck and chest flared, reminiscent of gills. Odd jewelry, maybe? Did human paint move across their bodies? Well, regardless, Mumbo did not appreciate being yelled at, so he snaked closer to the water’s edge, rearing up with another defensive hiss.

‘Sorry, no speak- ah- human?’ Ghost whistled, rolling over somewhat pathetically, and the human screeched, kicking up sand in Mumbo’s direction, which, honestly, not a great choice.

“Not funny! Not funny!”

“Maybe not,” Ghost spoke in human, and Mumbo nearly jumped out of his skin, reeling on them with wide eyes, “But I do wish someone would bite you.” They paused, turning back to Mumbo, ‘Don’t bite it, please.’

‘IT?!’ The human whistled, outraged, but it didn’t whistle like a human, instead sounding just like a mermaid, clicks and all, though similarly to Ghost, it expressed its emotions in speech, which- maybe that made sense, given it had no fins to emote with. Still, the surprise was enough to send Mumbo jumping back a few paces, whirling from Ghost to the human and back again in wild confusion.

Ghost rolled their eyes, a frighteningly human mannerism, before giving a small wave of their tail, ‘Probably should’ve given you a better warning. Didn’t know how to explain, and they started the switch sooner than I thought. Too soon, clearly, they’re a damn mess. Should’ve been in the water ages ago. By the time you left the woods, it was a bit late, and obviously, I’m not well.’ Where the human’s whistle was strong and clear, Ghost’s seemed breathy and strained, like it was getting harder and harder to force the noise from their throat. And- wait a minute, their eyes weren’t right either. Something changed. Ghost spoke again before Mumbo could continue that thought, ‘Let them into the water, please. It will help both of us.’

“Stop talking so fast,” the human snapped irritably, “I can’t understand you.”

“I’m not talking to you,” Ghost bit back in human once more, but they didn’t look nearly as unhappy as they were before, fins only twitching absently. “Come on. Get in the water, they’ll let you now.”

The human looked skeptical, but even seated in the sand it was still shaking, and while Mumbo didn’t particularly want it anywhere close, Ghost had sounded decisive..? Mumbo carefully pulled away, keeping toward Ghost and hoping the human would respect his space. It seemed to understand, getting to its feet on legs that barely held its weight, then stumbling to the water line and falling in. Ghost made that odd half-laugh sound again, and seemed to relax a little, releasing a long breath.

The human rolled over in the water, looking similarly relieved. “Did you tell your new friend anything, or are they completely in the dark?”

Ghost shrugged, noncommittal, “Not really. Never going to see them again, so I didn’t see a point.”

“That’s mean,” the human snickered, its mood seeming to switch entirely. “So what, you’re going gonna blow their mind and leave them to think about it for the rest of their life, completely clueless? Do you think years from now they’ll doubt it even happened? Think they dreamed it? No one will believe them.” The human suddenly cackled, a bit of a crazed noise that made Mumbo shrink away. It looked directly at him and sneered, “No one will believe you,” then stopped short, turning back to Ghost, “Etho! Tell them no one will believe them. Do it for me.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“Do it!”

“No.”

“Do it!”

“No.”

“Do it!”

Ghost didn't answer, rolling over to face away from both Mumbo and the human, something like mild amusement waving through their fins which- wait, since when had their fins gotten so small? But his thoughts didn’t linger there for long, most of his brain still straining to remember the human words he had learned. He was sure the two of them were talking about him, they must be, but they also must be using a different pronoun- when Ghost learned human, did they make a separate pronoun in the human language for mermaids? Why? While he had about a thousand questions, it seemed difficult for Ghost to speak at this point, so for now he wanted to focus on language, or at least on trying to understand anything the two of them were saying.

‘What do you call me? My humans call me-‘ Mumbo paused, steeling himself. It had been a while since he’d spoken like this. “He.”

Ghost was silent for a moment, giving Mumbo a curious look over their shoulder before laying their head back in the sand, still weak. ‘We call you,’ Ghost stopped, switching to human, “They. Them. He-“ ‘-implies a concept that does not exist for us. You will not understand. Has to do with human reproduction. Kind of. It is unnecessarily complicated. Do yourself a favor and don’t worry about it.’

‘I like human things. You can call me-‘ “-He.”

For some reason, the human found this incredibly funny, cackling to itself from the other side of the beach, but Ghost didn’t seem to care, only waving their tail (was it shorter?) in a lazy gesture. “You heard him.”

“I like this mermaid. You think I could lure him back home? Oh, I’d love to have two. Keep him as a little guard dog, have him eat anyone that steps foot on my island. Oh- or- Well, I don’t think I could split my soul again, but it would be nice to have options. Maybe he’d complain less. Or maybe he wouldn’t swim all the way out to sea on days we’re meant to switch back, yeah?”

Ghost bristled, looking angry for the first time since the human arrived, and Mumbo’s fins rose in turn. “No. You’re stuck with me. And that was your fault anyway, you seem to forget that when you blackout drunk, I also blackout. I didn’t know where the hell I was when I woke up. He brought me here. Please, I’d hate to subject anyone else to dealing with you like I have to.” Mumbo struggled to read their tone, unable to parse the bitterness in the beginning from the last sentiment that almost sounded like a joke, too exaggerated. It was difficult to tell if Ghost was genuinely angry or not.

But the human ignored them, turning instead to address Mumbo, ‘Do you come here often?’

Faster than Mumbo could process the question, Ghost snatched at Mumbo’s arm, and while Mumbo yanked away with a hiss, Ghost was not deterred, grabbing again despite their weakness and not flinching when Mumbo snapped forward in a warning feint. Instead, they pushed Mumbo’s hand to their chest at a spot where the skin was split by a massive scar. Surprise stopped Mumbo in his tracks- he hadn’t seen any scars across Ghost’s body, the colors too difficult to differentiate in his state of poor eyesight, but now that he knew it was there, he could just make out the difference. The scar extended above and below where his hand sat on their chest, all the way past Ghost’s eye and down to the midsection of their tail. It wasn’t thin either, jutting particularly badly across their stomach- how had Ghost even survived an injury that severe?

Ghost looked directly at him when they spoke, unwavering, ‘It did that. Dangerous human. Stay away.’

“I did not!” the human shrieked, then seemed to realize a bit too late it had spoken in the wrong language, ‘I healed it! I saved them!-‘ “-Come on, Etho! What’re you doing that for!? And here I thought you liked to have a little fun sometimes. You’re not still mad, surely not, you like the life you’ve carved out for yourself on land. Is a little inconvenience still worse than being dead to you?”

“This isn’t about me.”

“Is it not? Would you really put a price tag on your life, Etho? From where I’m standing, our deal was perfectly fair.”

Ghost grunted. “I didn’t get a choice.”

“You agreed! You shook my hand!”

“Why are you dredging this back up,” Ghost frowned, something like a growl leaving their throat, “I don’t care how many times you repeat yourself, you will never get me to say that choosing between my life and your ‘deal’ was fair. I’m past it. It’s time for you to let it go.”

The human quieted, something conflicted crossing its face before it looked away, grabbing fistfuls of sand in the water. For the first time since it arrived at the beach, it spoke without an edge. “But I want you to. I want you to be okay with it.”

Ghost was silent for a long moment, but there was nothing bitter behind their next words; honestly, there wasn’t any emotion at all. “I know.”

Mumbo didn’t know what to do. In all honesty, the human was looking very biteable right now, but Ghost had asked him not to, and maybe whatever they were arguing about was a ‘them’ issue anyway. If Ghost wanted to, they could probably bite the human themself, no need for Mumbo’s input.

But he didn’t get to think about it much longer, not before both the human and Ghost fell back almost limply, shallow, harsh breaths leaving Ghost’s lips, while the human groaned.

And then something split, Ghost’s tail, cracking apart with an awful squelching pull, their scales melting and dissolving like bone against magma. Mumbo reared back, blind fear lifting most of his body from the water before flying in the other direction. He choked on segmented hiss, and the human cackled, any hints of softness to its voice dead, replaced by vindictive edges. Had it done that to Ghost- did Ghost know? What- Was Ghost even a mermaid at all? Was this some sort of trick?

Terror sent Mumbo rocketing into deeper water, distressed by how little space he had to retreat. The lake wasn’t small, but it wasn’t endless either, not like the ocean; Mumbo couldn’t just swim away forever. He needed to hide. There was a nook a tad deeper into the lake where Mumbo typically stored his things, so he pushed himself down, holing up until he was too far to hear anything from the cove at all. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong with both of them. Mumbo struggled to catch his breath, unable to shake the image from his mind. He had never wanted two beings so gone from his place at the beach- Mumbo had always imagined sharing it with others, making a real home out of his little cove, but suddenly, nothing was more terrifying than a stranger. Betrayal burned through his blood just as hot as terror. If that human was so dangerous, why did Ghost call it a friend in the first place? Why did they bring it to his safe space- actually, how did the human find them at all?

Mumbo wasn’t sure how long he spent tucked away at the bottom of the lake. He was too big to completely fit in the rocky nook, but the mud at the bottom of the lake blended well with his scales, so he sat mostly obscured and stared up at the surface, head and parts of his tail poking out among the mud. Just.. waiting for something to happen. For Ghost, whatever they were, to leave, and for their human friend(?) to take its things and go as well, and to never see them again. Not in his cove, no. Not where he was supposed to be safe.

There was no movement for so long, Mumbo wondered if he’d missed Ghost leaving. If he had failed to spot them, though, it seemed unlikely with the improvements in his eyesight since he and Ghost had first met.

More likely, Ghost had never left the cove. Mumbo couldn’t see how they wouldn’t be dead, not with splitting tails and melting scales. They were so sick, the human too- Had they both died? It turned Mumbo’s stomach to think there were two corpses on his beach, rotting in the sun. What would he do with them? He certainly wouldn’t want his humans to find them. (But maybe that was the best case scenario. They couldn’t threaten his space if they were dead.)

And then there was movement, a large disturbance in the water followed by an even larger mermaid, the dark shape that was distinctly not Ghost.

They moved slowly, languid through the water, scanning the area with narrowed eyes, clicking soft and curious as they moved. Mumbo forced himself to be completely still, completely quiet. They were looking for him, he was sure of it, dark eyes raking malevolently across the lake floor. He didn’t know what it was about this mermaid that was so wrong, that made him so afraid, so sure they meant him harm, but Mumbo wasn’t about to question his gut feeling, not when he was so petrified.

To his great relief, the mermaid did not linger for very long, kicking off in the direction of the river after only a few more minutes of lazy drifting.

But even after Not-Ghost was long gone, Mumbo did not surface. He did not want to know what was on his shores. He did not want to see any more creatures of the sun.

…

Scar stood, hunched over his desk with his mouth agape, unable to shut it, but equally unable to say any words at all. That was Etho. His friend Etho. On his trail cameras. Walking away after growing legs.

“What the fuck.” Grian said, slotted below him in Scar’s desk chair, eyes equally wide. Yeah. That about summed it up.

#hermitcraft #hermitfic #mumbo jumbo #ethoslab #joel smallishbeans #smallishbeans #grian #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #hermitcraft fic #mumbomaid au

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jettboat · 2 months ago

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CHAPTER 3 - NEW INFORMATION AND COOKIES

"Dude! That's so cool! Are you like invincible right now?!" Bdubs stood up from his chair in excitement, making Etho jump.

"Yeeess... Until someone hits me and finds my heart-" Etho stopped before looking back up at his friend. "You're not going to hit me to find my heart, are you?"

"What?! No!" Bdubs sat back down and crossed his arms. "I don't want to hurt you!"

Etho's shoulders seemed to relax, which made Bdubs's heart sink.

Did Etho think he was gonna hurt him? Why would he ever do that! Did someone he trusted hurt him?

Before Bdubs could follow that train of thought, a knock on the door rang out through the house.

Etho and Bdubs froze, Etho pulled back up his mask. Bdubs immediately looked down at his cocoa to let Etho stand up.

He heard Etho walk towards the door and creak it open. Then he heard a sigh of relief before a familiar voice made it's way to Bdubs's ears.

"Etho! I heard what happened!" BigB said before dropping his voice to a rather loud whisper. "Is he causing you trouble?"

Bdubs heard Etho close the door. "No BigB, he's fine. Better than I thought, actually. Oh- You can look up now, Bdubs." Etho said.

Bdubs looked up and nearly jumped out of his skin.

BigB was part wood! He was a creaking like Etho??

"Don't be scared! I can only hold my human form for so long and I can't transform right now!" BigB explained hastily while wildly waving his arms, nearly whacking Etho in the face.

"Human form?" Bdubs asked.

"Yeah! I can only keep up my human form for an hour. Etho, here, can hold his all day." BigB explained.

"Until I need to go to sleep." Etho chuckled, taking off his mask.

"Yeah, until he needs to sleep. You still need to tell me how you managed that, dude!" BigB responded.

"Not right now, do you want a hot cocoa?" Etho asked pointing his thumb towards the kitchen.

"Sure. I wanna get some info outta Bdubs." BigB explained.

"I'm still here, you know!" Bdubs yelled before looking back down at his cocoa so the others could move.

The two creakings moved around the house, BigB to the couch (Bdubs only knew that because Etho started telling BigB to not get splinters and leaves all over his recliner chair again) and Etho to the kitchen.

Bdubs heard Etho pour a mug of hot cocoa and give it to BigB before making his way back to his spot across from Bdubs.

"So, what type of creature are you?" BigB asked.

Bdubs took a long sip of his cocoa. "I'm just a human." He mumbled.

"What's wrong with being a human?" Etho asked.

Bdubs looked at the two creakings for a moment. "You guys aren't gonna be like 'arg he's a human! I'm gonna kick him outta my woods!' or something like that?"

The two creakings now looking very confused.

"What?? No?? Why would we do that?" BigB asked.

"My old village didn't have a lot of humans in it, I got bullied a lot, got into a few fights... So, you guys... Aren't angry?" Bdubs asked.

"No! Of course we aren't!" Etho said. "We thought you'd be angry at us!"

"Well. This is one confusing night." Bdubs laughed, making the other laugh as well.

The laughter was interrupted by Bdubs's growling stomach.

"I'll find some food." Etho said before Bdubs turned to look at BigB.

"Any other questions?" Bdubs asked as he heard Etho rummaging through a chest in the kitchen.

"Yep!" The creaking responded. "Why'd you come into the garden anyways?"

"Oh! Grian and Martyn wanted me to find out what Etho was in exchange for a life." He explained.

"Those two are trouble together. Wasn't it Grian first, then Martyn joined in the shenanigans later?" BigB asked.

"Yeah! It was weird, Grian was giving me the details of the deal and Martyn was just standing there listening." A chill ran down Bdubs's spine. "I don't like what they're planning."

"Me neither." Etho had sat back down at the table.

The creaking tossed one cookie to BigB and handed one to Bdubs.

BigB gasped happily before immediately munching on it.

Etho nibbled on his, Bdubs usually saw him eat by raising his mask a bit so he could eat and no one could see his eye, and that was when he rarely ate around others.

As Etho ate his cookie, his two eyes stared down at his snack as if inspecting it, but his third eye scanned the room of any dangers. It landed on Bdubs for a split second before quickly looking away. Bdubs guessed Etho was still getting used to his friend knowing his secret.

Bdubs dunked half his cookie into his cocoa as BigB made a muffled gasp as an idea struck him.

"I heard about this new biome! A kingdom of sweets! We should totally go tomorrow! It might have answers on the two mischief makers!" BigB exclaimed.

"How will sweets help us get Grian and Martyn off our tails?" Etho chuckled.

"Grian's a sugar plum fairy. Duh!" BigB raised his arms in the air, sprinkling crumbs all over Etho's couch and rug. "It will definitely have answers to what their up to."

"I like the sound of that!" Bdubs said.

The two looked towards Etho with goofy smiles on their faces.

Etho sighed. "I'm out numbered, aren't I?"

"Yep!" The two yelled in unison.

--------------------------------------------------------

"Martyn? Where are you going?" Ren asked as he watched Martyn fold and tie a rope around his dress so it wouldn't drag on the ground.

"Going on a quick trip with Grian, will be back soon!" Martyn explained before looking up and smiling at his snail-dog friend.

"Can I come?" Ren asked, his tail wagging a bit.

Martyn bit his lower lip, he looked torn.

"I'm sorry, you can't. You need to watch the base, I'll be gone for a few days at most." There was a crack in Martyn's voice when he spoke. Plus, I... It might be dangerous. I don't want you getting hurt. Not when you're on yellow."

Ren was quiet for a moment before walking up to Martyn and giving him a tight hug.

"Then be careful. Please." The snail-dog said softly.

"I will... I will..." Martyn mumbled as he hugged Ren just as tightly.

Ren wasn't sure why Martyn needed to go with Grian, but he knew his friend would be okay.

--------------------------------------------------------

Martyn broke down into tears when he left Renwood.

He was tired. Tired in general and tired of being forced to follow Grian around... Or what was left of Grian...

The watchers were awful beings. Martyn knew that well. And if he wanted to see Ren after this night, he'd need to keep following Grian.

And so, he walked off towards the Sub 1 Club's base to find the watcher.

--------------------------------------------------------

I'm so glad you guys are loving this au as much as I do!

So sorry for the long wait! I've been super busy! Have this really long, lore filled, chapter as a reward for your patience!

Also, I haven't announced this but I changed Bdubs to a human! He gets ✨lore✨!

After the main plot is finished, if you guys want, I can make one shots and qnas in between the mer au!

Thanks for reading this really long chapter! Have a great day! And a cookie from Etho! 🍪

#deep in the pale garden #wild life #wild life au #bdubbleo100 #ethoslab #bigbst4tz2 #grian #inthelittlewood #rendog #I looked at big bs wild life videos to see how long he can remain human LOL #hes got hour long videos so hour long transformation #getting to the good part!

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wordwarriors · 1 year ago

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World Building

I'm a little late with the summary, but here it is. Thanks to everyone who attended and see you all again next month!

Where does your story take place?

Real-world v created world: You can use the world that we live in as it is. You can use the world that we live in with some tweaks. You can use alternate timelines/universes or create an entirely fictional world.

Alternate timelines Ex: modern day real world but WW I never happened.

High v low fantasy:

High fantasy refers to epic fantasy which is set in an alternate world. It typically includes lots of magical elements, fantastical creatures, and unusual technology. Whereas low fantasy is when magical creatures and elements intrude upon the regular world.

Things to consider/include:

Magic system

Geography

Political systems

Religion

Culture

Is there a class system? What does that look like?

Being grounded in the real world doesn’t save you from having to world-build.

What continent, country, city? Urban or rural? Mountains? Beach? A country can be set in the real world but it’s a fictional country. A city can be fictional. It can be based on NYC for example but still be fictional. Change the name and whatever else you need to.

You can blend real and imagined. Ex: Used the name of a real restaurant but placed it in a different town, etc.

Example: I used real roads but fake places. Anyone local will recognize the intersection but I put a fictional forest where a horse pasture actually sits.

You can create fictional shops, buildings, etc in NYC. NYC is real but the places aren’t.

Example: I had to create a building with a helipad in a story once b/c there are no helipads in that area, but I needed one for my story to work so I made it up. Could have used an actual one but my characters would have had to get past the FBI barricade, so it was easier to make up a building that was inside the perimeter.

Note:

If using magic, one must first establish how it normally works before showing it malfunctioning. Same if the character is supposed to be super strong or smart or something, establish that first so the reader understands what is normal in this world before the thing goes wrong.

Establishing Scenes: tell us all of the above. But do it in a way that shows not tells.

Also, make sure it matters. You need rich world-building but the reader doesn’t care what your character's first car was unless that information tells us something important about the character that we need to know, like he worked three summers in a row to earn the money because his parents were poor. Or because they were rich but stingy. Or because they were rich but wanted him to learn to earn things rather than have things handed to him. (if this is important to set a tone for his character or personality, ie, learned the value of hard work or this is why he resents his parents or this is why he is so driven to succeed in his career so he never goes hungry again!

Fabulous establishing world-building scene courtesy of @karahalloway:

The horse responds with a sour-faced snort, stepping quickly past the moss-covered waypost — a brazen reminder of this land's heathen roots. Because despite the House of Rys' conversion to Christianity almost a millennia ago, in the far-flung reaches of the kingdom — where the roads ran out, and the name of the King is just that... a name — the tenet of the old ways is more than just a memory. It is a living, breathing ethos. Suffused into the very heart of this harsh, rugged, yet beautiful land. Where portents, spells, and otherworldly creatures exist in the same breath as Christ, the Eucharist, and Judgement Day, and the very air crackles with mysticism and superstition. Which is partly what drew me here — to the edge of the proverbial map, where the laws of Cordonia fray into irrelevance in the face of the jagged peaks of the snow-capped mountains, and your fortune is what you craft it to be.

This sets the stage with so many rich details: geography, history, socio-political, religious background, his place in this world,etc.

Please, if I've missed anything, feel free to mention it in the comments and I'll add it!

Also, check out these articles:

World Building

February Event:

Live Discussion on character building on Friday, February 23rd, 2024 12:00 p.m. CST

Word Warriors:

@karahalloway @aussiegurl1234 @harleybeaumont @alj4890 @peonierose @petiteboheme @twinkleallnight @lizzybeth1986 @noesapphic @thedistantshoresproject

@ryns-ramblings @tate-lin @nestledonthaveone

@aallotarenunelma @kristinamae093 @coffeeheartaddict2 @memorias-depresivas

@jerzwriter

#word warriors #discord chat #fanfic writing #creative writing #fanfic writers #writing #writers on tumblr #pacing #writing tips #writing help #writing advice #writer tips #writing resources #writing reference #writing scenes

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klanceyuri · 6 months ago

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lazy day

summary: Tango goes to work sick, his lovers/co-workers do not approve of this and take it upon themselves to help him feel better

tags: mild sickfic, cuddling, just a lot of fluff!

authors note: yes this is propaganda for the @tangotekshipbracket yes i am once again asking you all to vote Poly Postal, remember kids! for every round they advance i'll write a fic for them! that said hope ya enjoy

Tango feels like shit. Stuffiness blocking up his head and an achy throb in his veins. He hasn't gotten sick like this in a long time, he was sure that the body heat would burn out any illness before it could take effect.

Guess not.

He still trudges to the post office on shaky feet, he's gotta make it to work. He needs to. They can't be the Postal Pals if he isn't there to be the third member.

But when he arrives they don't look happy to see him, Etho's fur stands on end and Pearl looks vaguely horrified. Is he reverting to something less human? Is he still a human? Or is he just really, really sick?

"Tango what are you doing here?" Pearl asked as she practically ran over to him, holding his face gently only to recoil at the heat.

"I'm here to do some work," Tango answered with curtly.

"God, Tango, you look like shit," Etho sighed out.

"Thanks."

"You don't need to come to work if you're sick," Pearl said, practically urging that he doesn't. Is he gonna listen to her? Pshaw, no way, he's got work to do.

"I'll just do less today," Tango said, "C'mon, I'm fine."

"You're a fire hazard right now," Pearl laughed a bit as she spoke, "Tango, go take a soak or something, cool off for a bit."

"But-"

"No buts! I'm calling off the days work so we can go swim the lake."

"I didn't bring a bathing suit..."

"I have spare suits for all of us so you can get it wet."

-/-/-/-

A cold soak doesn't work miracles in the way Pearl hoped it would but it definitely cleared up the congestion in Tango's head. He looks less like he'll keel over at any given moment and more like he just needs a nap.

"Feel any better?" Etho asked from the shore, refusing to submerge himself any further than the knees because it takes forever for all nine tails to dry out. He enjoys watching Pearl and Tango float in the deeper end regardless of that.

Tango raises a hand to give a thumbs up from where he rest laid on Pearl's back. She also gives a thumbs up from where she floats just under the surface, fully submerged aside from the fin on her tail. Sea creatures, Etho doesn't understand them.

"The waters great!" Tango called out voice still somewhat hoarse but enthusiastic regardless.

"I'm sure it is!" Etho called back to Tango.

Pearl swam her way back to the surface, holding up Tango so he wouldn't sink. "Really, Etho! It's amazing, you gotta try it!"

"I think I'll have to pass," Etho said, "Takes forever to get my tails dried off."

"I can help!" Tango said.

"You're sick!" Etho shot back.

"Burning off excess heat helps make me not as sick."

"Alright, alright, I'll do some swimming."

Both Pearl and Tango shout a brief 'yay!' as they watch Etho trudge ever closer before reverting to doggypaddling out to the deeper ends. His tails float on top of the water until he flops onto his back to starfish float.

"Happy?" Etho asked.

"Very," Tango answered with.

Pearl splashed Etho with water and watched with glee as he sputtered and tried to splash her back.

-/-/-/-

Etho spends the rest of the day chatting with Pearl, Tango curled up in the expanse of his tails. Slowly but surely drying them off, water evaporating under the heat of his body. Potential illness be damned Etho wouldn't deny a free snuggle session, especially not with Pearl painting his nails at the same time.

Bright colors, brighter than expected on him. A simple striking red with a white accent on his pointer finger. He liked it, reminded him of home.

"Hey, Tango?" Etho began quietly, shifting a tail as he spoke.

Tango gave a small sleepy sound, "Yeah?"

"How you holding up, bud?" Etho asked.

"'M still sick, feeling better though," Tango answered with before curling up even more in the coils of Etho's tails, his arms wrapped around Etho's waist.

"Don't worry, we'll be here all day long for ya," Pearl said with a grin on her face.

Tango lets out a small laugh-esque sound against Etho's back, "Love you guys."

"Love you too," Pearl said, "So does Etho."

"Yep," Etho said as he propped a tail a bit more to act as a pillow for Tango's head. Sick as he may be this is nice, they'd rather be doing this then doing work any day of the week.

#hermitcraft #hermitshipping #poly postal #tango x etho x pearl #tangotek #ethoslab #pearlescentmoon #hermitcraft fanfic #hermitcraft fic #writing #fanfic #fanfiction

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hydeomonster · 1 month ago

Note

what's been your favorite scene to write?

I think in general, very big general, it's scenes where one character is sleeping and another is watching over them. especially if the one sleeping is usually chaotic and full of energy but drifts off into a tranquil sleep next to the other character

I think I've written this exact thing thrice with smalletho alone x)

I think I just love that perfect picture of stillness where the world only exists in their immediate vicinity and it's Only Them, yk

now more specifically, that's a bit hard to decide because i only write stuff I like now ^_^' but if i had to pick one it would probably be in a work I haven't published yet (and probably won't for a while). There's a lot of context for why I loved that scene, but it really comes down to the fact the character have so much history and chemistry together, that they refuse to forget or acknowledge, and it makes for very tense conversations that i love so much

here's a (very rough first draft) snippet under the cut of what I'm talking about

it's Joel and Etho, sitting down in a room to talk at Etho's request, after Etho disappeared out of Joel's life and reappeared out of nowhere.

The silence stretched. Once again, neither of them said anything nor made any move to push the conversation.

Joel should be angry. His blood boils and his hands turn to fists again and again over his laps, he could barely contain the whirlwind of thoughts currently rushing through his mind right now.

And yet he wasn't angry enough. Joel should be yelling and screaming at Etho. He shouldn't even have let him come this far into his restaurant, his life.

Why did Etho have to look so calm and peaceful? The satisfaction of seeing him a nervous mess in front of his patreons is long gone now that his metaphorical and literal mask are both on his face. He sinks into the cushions without a semblance of care in this world he has no place in.

(There used to a place here, made and crafted and sculpted especially for Etho, right alongside Joel's. It's closed up now, no longer bleeding like an open wound marking the man's absence.)

Joel clears his throat of the nothing gathering there. Not the words threatening to spill out, not the accusations nor the sobs. Nothing was there because there was nothing left between Etho and Joel, but the table and Vinyard Roses.

"I hope you're happy with yourself," The dragon's voice cuts through the silence like a sword tearing through the [something idk]. "Knowing these drunkards, you're going to put a dent on my expenses this month."

He could not derail the conversation. Joel didn't want to– he wanted this over with as fast as possible. But also, his heart strings are being pulled on all opposite directions. He wanted this to last, to not end so soon and so abruptly, because he knew when it did, it'd mean Etho being gone again. And still he felt like rushing head first out of the door.

"How was I supposed to know I shouldn't show that around– I, you– You're the one that gave me the talisman!" Etho [retorts?], voice cracking. He seems to finally look a little less composed, fraying [?] at the seams.

His brows shot up, kicked puppy eyes and sad quivering lips under his mask.

Alright, even Joel knows he's overdoing it now. He's learned how to decipher 'anxious' Etho from 'overdramatic' Etho a long time ago, even if the man would never acknowledge 'overdramatic' Etho's existence.

"How were you supposed to– When I told you, maybe?!" Joel parrots back the human's words. Crossing his arms over each other, he leans forward just for emphasis, "These people would eat you alive at a whiff of your blood! Do you know how much human meat goes for on the market here?"

That was a lie; the fact is Joel didn't actually know what the monsters of this realm would even want a human for, let alone why they would eat one as scrawny and thin as Etho – or one at all, Gods know they're packed full of weirdness, like Iron and tiny little creatures – or why they would sell human meat of all things. There's better stuff out there, much easier to get.

But still, playing into Etho's fears of the unknown and his survivability seems to work a little. The human shrinks just that tiny bit on himself, averting Joel's gaze.

The dragon leans on the back of the sofa and let's out a slow, even breath.

That should've calmed him down. But no, instead, Joel is reminded of all the previous countlessly numerous times he has scolded Etho, just like he has now, over his health, or his safety, or his attitude, or his whatever-Etho-does.

And it's like someone decided to throw an island at him without any warning, expecting him to balance the load of trees and streams and houses and life on his shoulders on top of everything else. And maybe that someone was Etho, strudding [?] back into Joel's life as if he belonged there in the first place. As if the would hadn't gotten infected and rotted a long time ago in the silhouette of a masked white haired man.

Etho sits sheepishly silent the whole time.

Of course he would, it's Etho. He can afford to make Joel wait, because like always, Joel will wait for him.

#lesbeans rambles #hyde answers #boat boys #hermitshipping #trafficshipping #hyde writes #technically #hyde drabbles #that's my current wip #yes its the 'dragon joel au' if ykyk #very rought first draft like i said #i could edit and polish this just for the sake of this ask but i didn’t and i wont!#asks open

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bluestarlett · 12 days ago

Text

(When I scream, the sea is listening.)

(I have met my peace between the moon and where I stand, I have found catharsis in every wave that crashes on the cliffs, and I Learned how to breathe underwater While my lungs begged me for air. I fought my way to the surface and carried myself to land.)

1,559 words. I don’t speak Arabic please correct any mistakes

“Asteria, please,”

Sidra clutched her hair in fistfuls, furiously wiping the tears and blood which poured in streams down her face.

“DO NOT BEG ME!” She screamed, throwing her arm back, sending a porcelain vase crashing against the floor. Luna winced, backing up against the wall.

Asteria’s head dropped, her thin, wiry figure trembling as she sobbed like a child.

“I thought I could trust you, Luna.” She whispered coldly, her voice frail and broken. Pathos reached his hands out imploringly, biting back tears.

“Aster, you can. I promise you, I didn’t mean for this to happe-” The Angel froze as red light began to spill from the Star’s hand, shaping itself into the tines of a trident. His eyes blew wide as each muscle in his body had seemed to lock into place and he lost all feeling in his limbs, like a deer in headlights. He tried desperately to swallow the lump in his throat and the knot in his chest. The world blurred around Asteria, as if Seraph was simply having sleep paralysis.

“Please. Please, please, please, no,” He whispered, pressing himself further against the wall as his autonomy returned to him. Ethos looked up, her eyes locking with Pathos’, and—

They were so empty.

Her eyes, once full of love and light and passion, were devoid of life. Only anger lay in them as her pupils constricted, and the Stars slowly stalked toward the Moon.

Artem let out a choked sob as he was ripped from the wall, Asteria’s hand around his arm like a vice, nails digging into his skin.

He clawed desperately at the walls as she dragged him outside, his wings beating against the air in a craze as he begged incomprehensibly through his frantic sobs. Glass vases were thrown to the floor and paintings were struck from the wall as the Angel screamed, a creature once so tranquil and melodic now singing for its life.

The cold bit at Qamar, the snow melting into his clothes and seeping into the feathers of his wings below him as the frigid, dry air tore at his skin. For just a moment, the snare around his wrist loosened, and he tore away from Eris. Just as quickly, he was ripped back into her grasp by his wings.

The feathers tore from his skin as the humerus dislodged from his back, bones cracking as his wings were held to his body by all but sinews and tendons. He let out a gargled cry, blood trickling down his back.

The Stars refused to let up, dragging him by his tearing limbs like a ragdoll. She stopped at the edge of the cliff, where the ocean remained still as ever. She looked down at the Angel, meeting his eyes.

“please,” he whispered, voice hoarse from his futile sobs.

If Seraph were any more naive, he’d think Asteria had considered him, before he was thrown off the edge of the cliff.

His wings beat helplessly against the air, but there wasn’t enough support. He fell, collapsing against the beach below. The white sand seeped into his wounds as he sobbed against the ground, lying flat on his back. Wind refused to enter his lungs and his muscles refused to hold up, his body as unstable as the ocean before him. His wings contorted impossibly below him, and pain racked through his body.

At some point that night, the Angel slept.

When Luna awoke, the sky was light.

“I’m dead.” He whispered under his breath, squinting against the golden sky.

There was no way this was real. The sky in Tycho had never been light.

So why now?

He had to be dead.

The Moon pushed himself to his feet, wincing at the weight of his contorted wings that dragged against the ground. He took a step forward and-

He collapsed back into the sand, resting his head against the rocks.

A strange, whispering sound made itself known around the Dove, and he propped himself up, looking around curiously.

There was someone else here.

Asteria, maybe: come to heal him and apologise for the damage she’d done.

And yet, as Seraph scanned everything around him that he could see, nobody else had been there.

His eyes, after a moment, settled on the ocean.

The still, crystal clear ocean of Tycho was now gently crashing against the rocks, and deep blue in colour. His gaze travelled further and-

There, a figure stood cast in shadow against the golden sky, looking down at him, still in place despite the waves crashing against it. His eyes widened and he struggled to push himself forward as his back crashed painfully against the rocks once more. The figure curiously slinked over to him, tentacles flitting about curiously from underneath the creature’s dress as it approached. As it came closer to Seraph, he could make out more features about it. Dark, feathery brown curls spilled down its back, and curious, oval-shaped white pupils peered down at him. Deep blue marks decorated its face and its tentacles, like engravings into gold.

One of the creature’s tentacles slowly made its way to Seraph’s face, curiously poking him. Seraph chuckled, his voice hoarse and broken, yet ever-kind as he brushed the tentacle away.

“That tickles,” He muttered. His eyes met the creature’s once more, and its once unfazed, lidded eyes were now wide and perplexed. Its tendrils stroked Seraph’s face once more, the strange figure smiling slightly each time the Angel let out a laugh. Eventually, the creature drew its appendage away, tilting its head at Qamar.

Seraph smiled kindly, wiping the cold from his face.

“My name is Seraph. What... Who are you?”

The creature hummed curiously for a moment, thinking.

".زحل" (Saturn.)

Seraph’s eyes widened and he leaned forward.

“هل تتحدث العربية؟” (You speak Arabic?)

Saturn nodded.

".قليل جدا" (Very little.)

"...You understand English though?” Seraph asked curiously. Saturn nodded once more, humming pensively. The Angel thought pensively, tapping his fingers together.

“Where did you… come from?” He asked curiously. Saturn turned back toward the ocean, a strange, longing gaze in their eyes. Seraph followed their gaze, before pushing himself to his knees, crawling over to the shore. Without a second thought, he cupped the water in his hands, turning and letting the clear, cold liquid trickle into the wound on his wing. The cold stung, but he sighed in relief as the sand and dried blood rinsed out of the gaping hole and in between the tendons of his flesh. Saturn tilted their head curiously, their tentacle hesitantly reaching out, hovering before the wound.

"ماذا حدث؟"(What Happened?)

They asked curiously, tilting their head as their pupils dilated in perplexion. Seraph shook his head, sighing.

“I got into a fight with my sister and she… did that.”

".إنها لا تبدو أختًا جيدة جدًا..."(...She doesn't seem like a very good sister.)

Seraph chuckled harshly, carefully making his way back to Saturn’s side. “She is, I just… made a mistake. I earned it.” He said, a pained look in his eyes. Saturn blinked at him, turning to face the ocean once more.

"جناحاك، ماذا ستفعل بهما؟" (Your wings, what are you going to do with them?) Saturn asked, reaching out to touch the cold, crystalline water. Seraph picked at the blisters on his knuckles, humming thoughtfully.

"I'm not sure. If... If Asteria ever comes back for me, she would heal them, I hope."

"...يمكنني أن أحضرك إلى هناك." (...I can bring you there.) Saturn said, pointing up at the edge of the cliff. Seraph tilted his head curiously.

"Are you sure?" He asked nervously, chewing at the tips of his fingers. Saturn nodded solemnly, rising from the ground and extending a tentacle to Seraph. Hesitantly, the Angel took the tendril, and was pulled to his feet as Saturn crept up the rocks. He gently held onto Saturn's hand as the creature made their way up the side of the cliff, just barely hanging onto loose stones.

Seraph was thrown over the edge, landing softly into the snow as Saturn pulled themself onto the cliff, dusting their deep blue skirts off. They pulled Luna to his feet, pointing at the home before them with a curious lift in their brow. The Moon nodded, guiding Saturn forward. Snow crunched beneath the Moon's feet, his once weightless, feathery body now human. His wings felt like shackles.

Biting back the urge to scream, Seraph stopped before the heavy wooden doors, knocking fiercely against them with his bruised fists. Saturn twirled their hair around their claws, curiously examining the engravings in the golden doorhandles. Luna tapped his foot impatiently, crossing his arms.

Saturn turned to Pathos, parting their lips to speak, before the doors creaked open and Asteria peered back at the two of them, her eyes blown wide with what Seraph could only call fear. Seraph's anxiety bloomed into rage as he saw her, his fists clenching at his sides.

"Eris." Artem said venomously. Ethos' gaze flitted between Seraph and Saturn, her hands ever so slightly shaking.

She locked eyes with Juno, nervously opening the door wider as she stepped out of the way. Luna grabbed Saturn's hand, striding inside furiously. He shot a glare back at Sidra, yet star's head was bowed in shame as she shut the doors behind her.

...

"...welcome back." She whispered as she slinked away.

#cw violence #cw blood #cw gore #cj mind #cj soul #cj heart #chonnys charming chaos compendium #chonny jash #chonny's charming cosmic confluence

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