#in my head i kind of want redstone dust to still be dust obviously but i feel in a real-ish world scenario where i draw a bit more

[ethosiab]

the day i learn how i want to draw redstone i will become at least 13% more powerful

[redorich]

For the canyon au, what would happen if one of the hermits got hurt during a scout? Like, if etho is out scouting, something happens, and he’s unable to message the hermits or get help. Would he be willing to be seen? Would any smpers besides Puffy help him?

Zedaph didn't mean to leave the canyon, honest! He was just looking for a sheep of his own for a completely ethical experiment involving pistons and a perfectly reasonable quantity of peanut butter, thank you very much. He wasn’t about to steal a sheep from someone else’s farm, and for some reason sheep don’t tend to spawn at bedrock level. So really, he had no choice!

Zedaph is rethinking a lot of his decisions. He’s also wondering if he left the jump-powered stove on. Then he remembers that it’s jump-powered, and as he is not currently jumping on it, it is most likely unpowered. Unfortunately, it seems as though Zedaph is going to be eating a lot of cold food for a while if he makes it out of this alive, because he’s not going to be jumping on anything with a broken leg.

Despite his punishment for trying to take a cross-section of something that he now knows is probably sentient (oops), he can’t help but want to go back, to learn more. What is the rate of growth of those red vines? Are they all from the same plant? Are they actually sentient, or is the crimson kudzu in possession of an automatic response to attempted harm? Did the vine know it was hitting him off a ledge which would break his leg, or did it just know “whack human away from vine”? Would the vines taste good in soup? Are they flammable? Could Zedaph theoretically knit a fashionable sweater out of them, and if so would the sweater be capable of independent movement?

He is torn from his musings of a wriggly evil sweater by another thrum of pain. He hisses. There’s... more blood than is advisable. Outside of his leg, that is. Inside his leg is likely less than the advisable amount of blood, and come to think of it, his head’s probably a bit empty as well, seeing as how he’s having so much trouble thinking straight-- well, straight for him. His jumps in logic are incomprehensible to most on a good day, but right now even he can’t follow his own thought process. What was he thinking about again?

Ah yes. The overwhelming pain from being yeeted off a ledge. Come to think of it, the ledge he fell off-- the one he’s sitting leaned against-- is shaped awfully unusually. It must be manmade. Whoever made this is not a good terraformer. Zedaph should bake Scar some cookies. Is Scar allergic to peanuts? Ow. Ow. Ow. Zedaph will need to borrow Impulse’s oven-- or he could set up his own oven with an armor stand that jumps for him?

“Hey there, who are you?” says a female voice. Zedaph looks up. He doesn’t have to look very far up.

Standing in front of him is a woman with a cool pirate-looking coat (red, of course; all self-respecting pirates wear red), with long fluffy hair like white wool and rainbow fringe! Oh, and she’s, like, half sheep or something. That’s cool too.

Wait. There’s something about sheep he’s forgetting... How could he have been so stupid?! He came to the surface in the first place in search of a sheep, and now he’s (kind of) found one!

The cool pirate lady says something, but Zedaph-- well, he does hear it, but it doesn’t process. Words are just mouth-sounds. He is in pain.

“Found a sheep,” he mumbles, “Come back to the canyon?”

“You’re hurt, man,” the sheep-pirate-lady says. She has pretty rainbow hair, and the white parts look like clouds.

She laughs. “Thanks.”

Clearly, this woman is a mind-reader! As well as a sheep. Really, two for the price of one. Zedaph isn’t quite sure what to do with a mind-reader, but his head will be much clearer and therefore able to dream up wacky hypotheses once he respawns--

He gasps, jerking forward and choking on his own breath when he remembers the cold truth. Xisuma won’t be able to respawn him, not for several days. Zedaph doesn’t want to spend that long in the void.

“Woah!” the woman exclaims, rushing to steady him. “You look pretty bad, dude. Let’s get you home or something. Where do you live?”

“Canyon,” Zedaph rasps. “I’m not supposed to tell you that, I don’t think. Can’t remember why.”

The nice woman goes very still. “Hey. My name’s Puffy. I’m gonna take you to the canyon. Do you think you can stand if I help you?”

“Puffy..?” Zedaph squints off into the middle distance, trying to remember something. “She’s the person who keeps coming back to that barrel, isn’t she?”

Puffy pulls Zedaph’s arm over her shoulder and gently pulls him up to his feet. “She is,” Puffy says softly.

“I hope she liked the enchanted diamond shears,” he mumbles.

“She did,” Puffy says softly. “She didn’t even know diamond shears were a thing.”

“I was going to make an emerald flint and steel,” Zedaph rambles, “but it turns out that items made of flint and steel aren’t conducive to being made of not-flint and not-steel."

"Who would have thought?" Puffy laughs, then trips over a vine. Zedaph makes a pained noise at the jostle to his leg, which is dragging a bit on the ground because Puffy is so much shorter than him. She notices this, and rethinks her strategy.

"At this rate, we'll never get back to the canyon," she gripes. "Climb on my back instead, I'll carry you."

Zedaph obliges, but warns, "Tango says I'm heavy.”

“I’m stronger than Tango, I’ll bet.”

The Hermit is actually a bit heavy, but this is a matter of pride now. And also, quite possibly a matter of urgency. The Hermit isn’t responding anymore. He’s still holding on, so he isn’t dead or completely unconscious; still, he’s not in a good state.

As soon as the elevator down to the bottom of the canyon comes into view, Puffy books it. Surely, in the canyon base, the Hermit will have healing potions? He (They? Multiple Hermits?) gave her a whole beacon, so obviously he/they are late-game enough to have plenty of potions.

Stepping into the elevator, Puffy presses the button, then puts her hand on the Hermit’s neck. It’s a bit of an awkward position, since his chin is hanging over her shoulder, but it makes her feel better to have a hand on his pulse. He makes a pitiful noise as the elevator descends.

“Easy there,” Puffy says, “you’re almost home.”

The moment the doors open, she ventures out into the village. The only safe place she knows is the barrel where she leaves her items for the Hermit(s), so she takes him there. Now that she’s looking, she spots shadows, eyes, movements, throughout the supposedly empty village. One such person comes out of the woodwork, sprinting.

“Zedaph!” exclaims a tall, musclebound man. His face is twisted in naked worry as he meets Puffy at the barrel, which she sets Zedaph down on.

The large man, who wears a black shirt with a creeper face on it (does that mean something, Puffy wonders?) scrutinizes the blond man on the barrel for a moment before springing into action, splashing potions and bits of lapis and-- holy shit, is that a Totem of Undying?! When the blond man, Zedaph, seems to come back to himself enough that he could reasonably eat a golden carrot with minimal choking hazard, the new man hands him one. Finally, he turns to Puffy.

“Thank you,” he says. The relief in his voice is tangible.

Puffy shifts awkwardly. “I was just doing the right thing. I noticed, uh, his bracelet.”

They both look to Zedaph’s wrist. It’s got a woven bracelet on it. The textile isn’t astounding, but the pattern on it is intricate. Puffy would know, she made it herself as a gift for the Hermit. As Puffy and the other Hermit look at each other, she realizes that he is also wearing something she made: a pair of fingerless gloves which are now stained with redstone dust.

He catches her staring. “We all have one-- oh, uh, my name’s Impulse, and this is Zedaph--”

“Impulse,” a new blond man hisses from behind the two. Puffy jumps. She didn’t hear him coming.

“Tango!” Impulse greets, suddenly nervous. Why a man as big as Impulse would be nervous when facing anyone, let alone a normal-looking guy like Tango, is beyond Puffy. Maybe Tango’s red eyes have some sort of significance?

“Impulse,” Tango repeats, looking around for anyone that isn’t a Hermit. “You’re not invisible.”

Impulse’s eyebrows draw together in a frown. “I had to see Zedaph.”

“Yeahhh,” Zedaph slurs.

“Besides, if we can trust any of the natives, it’s Puffy,” Impulse insists. He crosses his arms in what should be an intimidating display, but truthfully looks more like a pout.

“You know what Xisuma said,” Tango says. “I’m grateful to have Zedaph back, but...”

“Xisuma would agree with me,” Impulse says stubbornly.

Tango sighs explosively, full of nerves. “Alright, fine, can we at least get out of sight? Anyone could come wandering across the surface and spot us.”

“How many of you are there?” Puffy breathes. Everyone’s eyes snap to her.

“Twenty-four,” Zedaph says happily.

“Zedaph!” Tango admonishes.

Rolling his eyes, Impulse scoops Zedaph up off the barrel like he weighs nothing. He carries the dazed blond man down the path and into a cottage-style house. As Tango goes to follow, he catches Puffy’s eye.

“Sorry,” he says, “nothing personal. Just trying to avoid being explodificated, which means not being seen by the people who live on this server. You get it, yeah?”

He jogs off to catch up with Impulse, and Puffy hurriedly follows. Tango’s got a bracelet like Zedaph’s, but it’s one of the ones Puffy made out of different shades of red. She wonders if all the Hermits wear something she made.

The inside of the house is a bit cramped, but it’ll do. It’s got a bed, at least, so Zedaph’s got somewhere to keep his leg off the ground. This all feels surreal.

“So, uh...” Puffy says into the stuffy silence of the room. “How about that, uh, bedrock?”

Nobody has anything to say to that. Fuck.

Out of nowhere, yet another Hermit shows up. There’s a trapdoor in the wall that, now that she looks at it, Puffy realizes that Tango was hiding intentionally. That’s all gone to shit, though, because a man with white hair and a mask over his face peeks his head out from the hole in the wall.

“Hey guys, what--” The man takes a look around, spots Puffy, and freezes. “...On second thought, I’ll come back later.”

“Wait!” Impulse says to the man. “Get Xisuma, or at least tell him Puffy’s here if he can’t make the trip right now.”

“Karl thinks you’re Mothman,” Puffy blurts out to the white-haired man.

The man looks very self-satisfied for someone who’s only showing a quarter of his face. “Oh? Where does he live? For absolutely no reason, of course.”

“Etho...” Tango groans.

“Oh, alright, I’ll go get X.”

The man leaves. Oh boy, thinks Puffy, this is going to be interesting.

[star-captain]

Illuminate

Another part of what I’ve started to call ‘Wandering Stars’, stories of self-inserts interacting with hermits. I dunno if the name is gonna stick, that’s just what the Google Doc is called. 

But here’s another piece! This time with the incredible, kind, and talented @theguardiansofredland​ ‘s character Red. This was a challenging story, but I very much enjoyed writing it and playing with a character I never could have come up with on my own. 

The sun settles on the horizon, dipping into the ocean and leaving behind a trail of orange streaking across the surface. It looks like it’s melting, orange fire spilling out. As sunset turns to twilight, the coral and sea pickles below begin to illuminate. The ocean comes alive with color, unbothered by the loss of the sun. Fish swim through pillars that glow softly, shadows playing out like puppets controlled by kelp.

The last hint of the sun drowns into the sea, leaving behind a sharp flash of green across the air. Glass catches the light, refracting the emerald flash over the blue floor and twin towers, across the open cavern. And as the light fades from the sky, a glow begins to materialize on her skin. Blue specks, flecks of light swirl across her skin, fighting off the darkness and growing brighter. Like stars, they grow in intensity as the world settles into the night. Waves of light flow around patches of larger blue, the brightest resting on her shoulders and inner forearms. Symmetric stripes are barely visible through the fabric of her pants, wakes of bright blue against the swirling flecks.

They push their glasses up the bridge of their nose, squinting to get a better look at what they’ve been staking out. Red knew that a monument has been missing for some time now, but they haven’t been able to check out the report until now. There’s someone down at the bottom, below the seafloor. From sea level, all they can see is guardians rise up bubble columns of the twin spires, before falling down into a hole.

She needs a closer look. Red looks over the edge of the glass, at the sharp drop down into the backwards aquarium. There’s no water, and she obviously can’t fly. A flying fish is just ridiculous. She chuckles at the idea, before turning to the other side of the glass, which is holding the ocean at bay from the unusual structure. Peering in, Red can see her reflection in the glassy water. It’s a calm night.

Streaks of bioluminescence mark her face, symmetrical against her cheeks after rising up her neck from her back.  They look a bit like shark’s teeth at her chin from this angle, which looks pretty cool in her mind. Red’s hair is still wet from clambering out of the sea, orange and blue tones plastered against her head. Her reflection is broken as she dives in. Down, down down, into the depths of the sea. Where most people would be scared of such deep waters, she calls it home. She can feel the water rush past her face, over her fins as she speeds towards the bottom, and breathes in the cool water.

At the bottom of the structure, Red pauses to look at the strange building. It’s all made of glass, and she’d hate to break something that someone worked hard to build. Maybe she can just push a pane or two out, and sneak in without actually breaking the glass. Red reaches out, placing her palms on the smooth, cool window. She gives a push, but it doesn’t budge. She pushes again, harder. And harder, and harder, until suddenly the glass gives way under her strength.

Red and water sweep into the structure, pooling on the floor and depositing the surprised Kipling on the prismarine tile. Red only chuckles to themself. “Whoops. Maybe pushed a little bit too hard.”

Red stands, slopping through the water back onto dry stone. They made it to the bottom, but wandering around on the floor yields no information as to what is happening here. Red wanders up to the towers of water. Stepping up, they watch as guardians shoot up the column like some elevator on the fritz. The guardians flail about as flowing water sweeps them out and down a mysterious tunnel. Even when Red cranes their neck to look down the middle pillar, they can’t see the bottom.

But on the other side of the glass, around the pillar, he can see a ladder leading down. Abandoning the drop tower, Red quickly clambers down the wood ladder. Deep into the depths of the earth, the ladder spits him out in a cramped room. He looks around. The space is filled with metal hoppers and wood chests, in design that he can’t make out but knows is some sort of collection system. Down the short hall, Red sees the owner of all this.

He’s in a well dressed green suit, asleep in a chair rocked on it’s back two legs against the stone wall. Red jumps at the sound of a crash, but it’s only another hopper filling itself with goods. She turns her attention back to the human. Curiosity draws her closer. The most unusual part of the man is one of his eyes. It looks like it’s metal, with some sort of crystal or something acting as the iris. Can he see her, even though he’s asleep?

She turns away from the human, focusing back on the reason she’s here. And that reason is to understand why this is here, and what is happening to the guardians that enter the tunnel. Just beyond the sleeping man, she can see the guardians. Humans can’t notice it, but each guardian is different. Different scale patterns, different tints in the orange and blue, all making each ocular fish unique. And she can see there must be dozens of guardians crammed into a small place at the bottom of the pit. They’re wounded, but alive.

“There must be a way to get you all out of here. You guys see anything?” She jokes, winking her eye at the cycloptic guardians. She turns around in the small room, seeing lots of different buttons and levers. But none of them look to be hooked up to the fences that hold back the guardians. Red doesn’t want to mess with redstone, as much as she likes flipping switches and pushing buttons- that stuff is too much for her. It doesn’t work well in water anyways. Though sometimes she wonders what it tastes like.

But one stone button, hardly visible against the stone wall, seems like a good chance to free her fishy friends. Red hardly wastes more than a second stumbling to the button and crashing into it. At first she’s smiling, waiting for the fences to open up and for the guardians to be freed from whatever cruel trick this is.

The smile fades into horror as pistons tug stone blocks out from under the guardians, and the pit deepens just enough. Just enough that those already sitting at the bottom fall just a little further. A chorus of shrill cries escapes the stone, echoing around the hall and haunting Red’s mind. How many just died? Hoppers rumble around her, and she starts to put this all together.

She watches the farm run, even though it’s owner is fast asleep in his chair. Wind whistles across the squirming, flailing guardians. Red watches in horror through her glasses as the helpless fish fall all the way to the bottom of the pit. One after another, they screech and die with a sickening crunch against the deep, dry stone. Every time they fall, she feels her heart fall as well, breaking with their bones.  The prismarine is quickly scooped up by the hopper system, rumbling and sorting out the goods that dropped upon death.

It’s horrifying, monstrous. Humans tear down an ocean monument, stripping a home for the resources it holds. And then humans build a contraption only for death and their insatiable greed. They have to stop it. Red grabs at the button, pulling it from the wall. It doesn’t stop the endless cycle of death. They haul the heavy double chests out from under the hopper, but the items just sort into a different chest. Behind the chest, Red can see the thin trails of redstone snaking between hoppers. Lit up, making sure the system is running. They crouch down, shoving a scaly arm through the tight space between two hoppers.

She reaches her hand across the redstone, and cuts the connection. The activated redstone gives her a jolt, like holding a channeling trident during a storm. The entire system shuts down, including the water that flushes the guardians to their doom. The sorting machine falls silent, though the dying screams of guardians still echo in the cave and in Red’s mind.

Behind her, chair legs scrape against the smooth stone. “Grian I swear if you plan to shove something into my inventory again!”

Red and the human freeze, staring at each other. The suited man blinks, gazing at the unusual visitor. She’s not sure if he’s ever seen a Kipling before, much less one covered in redstone dust. She hasn’t even noticed that tears were falling until now, and her bioluminescent markings glow brighter than a sea lantern. “What are you doing to my guardian farm?”

“These aren’t for you to take!” Red states, standing up for her home and family, and standing up to her feet. “This isn’t a farm, this is massacre!” She returns to ripping the death machine apart, piece by piece, without a tool. Tossing filled hoppers across the room and risking being electrocuted.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on, wait!” He approaches Red, before backing off. “Let...let’s talk about this. I’m Iskall. Why are you destroying my...my building?”

“Because you’re killing them.” Red whimpers, looking at where scales and blood splatter the wall of the pit. “Those are...that’s my family, my home you’ve destroyed.”

“The ocean monument?” Iskall questions. He looks up, as if observing the world beyond the stone cave. “I never thought anyone except these laser fish lived there.”

“It’s their home too. Would you like for someone to come and rip it all up and kill your family?” Red tries to wipe away the tears. He hates being so sensitive, forcing himself to be open to a person he doesn’t trust. It’s hard to trust humans when they do this. “All for what?”

“Sahara needs the prismarine to sell to other hermits, taking down the monuments and killing guardians is the only way.”

“If you just looked for help, looked for a different way then you wouldn’t have to! I have more prismarine than I know what to do with, all without ever hurting another guardian.” To prove her point, Red pulls out a handful of prismarine crystals. She lets it fall to the ground, Iskall’s metal eye watching her toss it away like it’s dirt.

The bearded man rubs his chin. “I never thought that anyone lived in ocean monuments, that could talk with us. This does change things.” Red looks up, meeting his gaze. “Let’s make a deal then, shall we? A real Sahara contract. You can supply Sahara with that prismarine, get it all out of your way. In return, you can...ahem, decommission my farm here. And maybe I can talk with the others and see if they can find other ways.”

Red looks around, not quite sure if this is some sort of trap or something. Not until Iskall pulls out a diamond pickaxe, offering it as a sign of good faith to the young Kipling. “You look tired, I’m sure you’re hungry. Let’s see.” He digs around in his pockets, finding a bag of sweet berries. The two munch on the fruit, until Red is satisfied and ready to get back to destroying this place. Using the pickaxe is so much better than using his hands, and he can’t help but smile as each hopper and chest is removed. Iskall even joins in, climbing up to the empty ocean. While Red frees his oceanic brethren from the twin towers, Iskall begins to refill the water he had removed. He can’t rebuild the monument, but at least he can make this place habitable again. Maybe they can make something new here, for everyone.

Destruction has never been so fun, so relieving to Red. Tearing down all her frustrations, and filling it back with the cool ocean water. It’s sunrise by the time the two finish, and Red’s markings are fading in the peeking sunlight. The two stand on the last remaining concrete block, the water below teeming with life. The pit has been waterlogged, and hopefully the tides will eventually wash away the stains of such a death-covered place.

“I think that went pretty swimmingly.” Red chuckles, looking over the ocean. In the morning light, they can see the bright colors of the coral, and thousands of tiny fish go on with their lives among the stony creatures.

Iskall laughs at the pun. “You remind me of a friend of mine, at least when you’re happy. Speaking of, I should probably get back to the other hermits. Call a meeting with the Architechs and tell them our job just got a lot easier.” He holds up a couple of prismarine shards. “And we’ve got a monopoly on the prismarine trade! Please, come visit if you ever have the chance.”

The green-suited man takes out his elytra wings, and soars off towards the mainland. Red looks out at the sunrise, the quiet ocean. Her home. She pushes up her glasses, rolls the sleeves of her shirt, and dives into the water.

[xxxgrianeatsendermitesxxx]

Grab the bat by the fangs

Trigger warnings: blood, biting, panic attack (implied)

Grian woke up, he could tell from his clock that it was morning, but he was late. He was late for a meeting with the other Architechs, he had to go the server meeting after that as well. He sighed, climbing out of bed and placing his amulet around his neck before drawing the curtains. He winced at the sun's rays hitting his face, sure his amulet stopped him from turning to dust but that doesn't mean he likes the sun. He opened his locked chest, pulling out a bottle of blood- he didn't have time to brew a pot of tea so he just grabbed the bottle, changed into his suit and left.

He drank the last of the blood as he swung around the corner and into the meeting room, rushing to his chair. "Sorry I'm late guys, I slept in."

"Obviously." Mumbo shook his head in amusement, adjusting his book and beginning the meeting. It went well, there were a lot less laughs as Grian was still half awake and the other two were a little stressed with having to manage this meeting around the server one. But the meeting went well, Mumbo did notice that Grian didn't have his first thing in the morning tea but didn't really think too much of it.

Iskall didn't think much of anything really, he was still half asleep- mostly because he hadn't slept at all last night. But the universe seemed determined to give him something to think about as a small glass bottle rolled up to his feet, there it layed, under the table- seemingly taunting him as he stared at him. Those little red droplets, what where they? Instant health? No, too dark. Harming? Yeah, it had to be harming, it was the right shade of red. But that simply raised more questions- why was there an empty bottle of harming in the Sahara meeting room? Had one of his friends been drinking it? If so, why? Iskall looked at both of them, he couldn't see any signs of them being under the effects of a potion. He bent down to pick it up and cringed- he touched on of the droplets- and it was warm. He had to choke down some zomit as he looked at it.

Mumbo noticed and was a little concerned- what on earth had caused Iskall to react like that? He held up a hand- motioning for Grian to stop talking. "Iskall? Are you alright there man?"

Iskall looked at him, his expression unreadable for a moment. He placed the bottle on the table, letting the other two see it. "Who's is this?"

The other two stare at it, Grian's expression was utterly unreadable but Mumbo's was confused and warey. "What...what is that? A potion?" He grabbed the bottle and examined it.

Iskall shook his head. "Can't be, it's warm." He saw Mumbo's disgusted reaction to the substance and nodded. "Exactly."

Mumbo cringed, he didn't know potions but seeing this close up- it clearly wasn't a potion. Mumbo knew that redstone couldn't come as a liquid and you can't bottle lava. Which left only one thing it could be- Mumbo took on a look of horror as he looked between Grian and Iskall. "Is...is this blood?"

Grian stayed deathly still, observing his friends disgusted reactions to his breakfast- his anxiety growing as they questioned how an empty bottle of blood got there and who'd drank from it. He quickly put a hand to his mouth to check if there were any drops of blood on his mouth, there weren't but he quickly realised that he shouldn't have done that.

Mumbo had seen it, seen how stock still Grian had been, sensed the fear emanating off of his friend and he'd seen Grian check his mouth- clearly checking for remnants of the substance. He calmly put the bottle down and gazed towards Grian passively. "Grian? Do you know how this bottle got here?"

Iskall looked over, having not seen Grian's reaction to the bottle but clearly now seeing the panic displayed on the blondes face. Grian had missed a bit, a little droplet remained on his lip- a droplet he quickly licked up. Iskall had seen this and there wasn't a doubt in his mind that this little glass bottle belonged to his tiny friend. "What was in it, Grian? What was in the bottle?"

Grian gulped, terrified of what they'd say if he told them- if he told them what he was. He buffered, trying to come up with an appropriate response. There was no point in hiding it now so denying it was out of the window- maybe he could come clean? No that would most likely end in his death. He rapped his fingers on the table, pushing a strand of hair put of his eyes. "My breakfast- I didn't have time to put it in my tea so I thought it'd be fine..." He chuckled nervously, feeling himself teetering off the edge.

Mumbo sighed, happy to leave it at that and forget about it but Iskall wasn't that kind of guy. "Yeah, but what is it?" He narrowed his eyes, it was ridiculously obvious to him that Grian was hiding something- he wanted to know what.

Grian hung his head, he really didn't want to tell them but he feared that if this continued he might end up showing them- whether by being sick of genuinely snapping, he wasn't sure which. He resolved to just ignore them until they gave up, it couldn't take that long.

"Grian..." Mumbo attempted to reason with him, sensing the panic. "It's ok, we ju-"

"Tell us." Iskall stood up, walking over to where Grian was sat- standing beside the chair, his hands behind his back. "Tell us what was in the bottle, Grian. We just want to know." He stared Grian down- failing to see Grian's clear panic, he continued to press the matter. He used a firm, curious but still friendly tone with Grian- unfortunately Grian didn't catch on to the friendly part.

His breathing quickened- he didn't need to breathe but it was a coping mechanism, something that was really required right now. If he had a pulse then it would have been in his ears, not literally of course but Grian was never sure. His eyes were wide and he was trying his best not to panic; what if they'd hate him? What if they tried to kill him? What if they told Xisuma and he had Grian banned? What if they locked him up? What if they exiled him? These thoughts ran through Grian's head at lightning speed, he was at the mercy of his anxiety. Iskall was baring down on him with the questions, Grian glanced to Mumbo- begging for a way out. But Mumbo was just as curious as Iskall.

Grian was shaking at this point, he had no idea how to deal with curious humans- the only human-vampire interactions he was aware of didn't exactly end well. So he was scared, he didn't want to scare nor hurt them but Iskall was baring down on him. Question after question flew at Grian, he felt like covering his ears and screaming but he couldn't move a single muscle.

Iskall get annoyed and grabbed Grian's shoulder. "Dude! Answer me!"

Something in Grian snapped.

He rose from his seat, eyes as red as the contents of his bottle and ten times as bright. He reached up and grabbed Iskall's shoulder- clearly not with it- and pulled the swede down, plunging his fangs into his neck. He might of just had his breakfast but animal blood was nothing in comparison to the syrupy sweet crimson nectar of a human's blood. If it wasn't for his grips of iron on his victims shoulder then his knees would've give way- they felt weak as they were. Grian continued to sukle on the neck of his best friend- unable to stop himself. Iskall might have been strong but he was nothing to a vampire on a blood high, Grian feared that he'd end up draining poor Iskall if no one stopped him.

Mumbo had panicked and sent a message to Xisuma as soon as Grian had stood up, panicked and looking on with increasing worry. Luckily it didn't take long for X to arrive, he strode into the building- only to be ran into by Mumbo rushing down the stairs. "X! You have to help! I-"

"Woah, woah, woah, calm down Mumbo, what's going on? Explain calmly please."

"I think...I think Iskall might die!"

Xisuma's widened- he runs straight up to the meeting room, skidding around the corner and into the room. Seeing the scene before him, he gasped, not waiting to ask what was happening. Without hesitation, he ran straight at the duo- picking Grian up and forcefully pulling him from Iskall, who instantly fell to his knees. X put Grian down, holding him by his shoulders. "What the HELL was that?"

Grian blinked up at him with wide eyes, he didn't understand what X was saying. All he knew was that this strange smelling man had just interrupted his feed- that was unforgivable.

[amnesiacgrian]

Chapter 2 - Abyss

Part 1

I hardly slept that night, for obvious reasons. The only thing running through my head was the note I had found. Trust no one… what an ominous message. I wonder who would’ve left that with me.

With the rising sun came Mumbo’s awakening, slowly but surely. I pretended I had been sleeping as well, slowly forcing myself to stand from my cramped position and stretch. The note crumpled in my hand, reminding me to store it away. Keep suspicions away for now.

But why was that note so… terrifying? It was words on paper, basically nothing, yet somehow it felt so much more sinister than just that. I dunno, I guess it bothered me. It felt like it should be a secret, something closely guarded.

I could feel Mumbo’s eyes on me, watching my thought process go down quickly, so in response I blinked up at him tiredly. “Hello Mumbo. How’d you sleep?”

He shrugged, not speaking right now. He looked about half-awake as he wandered to a chest, pulling out some eggs and pork. Those went into a furnace, laid overtop coals and left to cook up.

I glanced out the window at the sun rising over this small island, reflecting off the vast ocean right outside. It was blinding, the waves reflecting crystals of light into my eyes. I could see a boat in the distance, half-built and partially shrouded by early morning mist.

“Here,” Mumbo held out some of the eggs in my direction, a small smile on his face. “Breakfast.”

“Thanks.” I smiled back, taking the tray and devouring the food. I was much more hungry than first imagined… but then again, I can’t remember the last time I actually ate anything. Like, I could remember eating food obviously, but no actual meals.

As the last bites were taken care of, a small knock came from the floor entrance of the treehouse. Mumbo popped open the trapdoor with a foot, his plate still in his hands, and in came a new person.

She was honestly adorable. Dark brown hair with pure white ends, bright eyes the same shade as the oak bark to my left. Her pink and white cardigan went well with her white blouse and blue skirt, and her smile made me blush.

“Oh, hello!” She saw me, grinning. “Glad Iskall warned me you were awake. I’m StressMonster, but call me Stress.”

“Oh, uh… I’m Grian.” I waved a small bit, trying not to fumble too much. I turned down to the floor, kicking at it a small bit.

“And I’m chopped liver,” Mumbo helped Stress up the ladder and into the treehouse. Her wings were pure white, larger than you’d expect for a person her size, folded tightly to her back. She giggled, running a hand through her hair mindlessly.

“So it’s obvious that the few hours I took to actually sleep were when everything exciting happened. Glad to be of use.” I enjoyed her thick accent, the teasing lilt making us all smile.

“Stress-” Mumbo sighed, shaking his head. Stress giggled, winking his direction. “Whatever, is there any progress?”

“Sadly no. No exit Portals can be opened.” Stress shifted from left to right, seeming unable to stay still. Her smile became a little more forced, voice turning serious. “I have a daughter that I need to go see, I need to get out of here-”

“We know, Stress. Everyone has family out of Hermitcraft.” Mumbo pulled her into a hug, making me feel suddenly like I was… intruding, on a situation I knew nothing about. “I’m sure we’ll get out of here soon.”

“So from what I’m understanding,” I butted into the conversation, “The only way out of this place is blocked, and… no one can fix this?”

Stress and Mumbo shared a look, knowing something I didn’t. I pretended not to notice right away, letting Stress say something.

“For now, it’s… better that we let the Admins suss this one out. Speaking of which, X asked me to bring Grian over to his base for an Admin Scan.”

The slight brow crease of worry in Mumbo’s brow making me wonder what an Admin Scan exactly meant. “I thought X was going to come here and do that.”

“He was. Initially.” Stress shrugged a bit. “But now he’s needing Grian to be in his base to actually do the Scan. Something about closer to the Data Center?”

“Where is he holed up these days?”

“Some farms near the coast. He showed me around before I came here.”

Mumbo huffed, turning to dig in a chest. “I’ll take you there then. If something happens to Grian on the way there it’s on my head.”

“I’m right here,” I quietly protested, slightly cross at the way these two talked like I wasn’t here. Stress giggled, flashing me a grin.

“We know,” She opened the trapdoor to the ground, “That’s the problem.”

Before I could ask anything else, she had dropped. She launched into the air, wings spreading around herself gracefully. I watched in awe, before getting a nudge from behind me.

Mumbo was there, holding two pairs of wings. “Everyone gets an elytra this season. You wanted to fly?”

~~

Flying was so much easier than I could ever imagine.

We had started out at the very top of Mumbo’s treehouse, where I learned how to strap the wings to my body. As I connected the final strap, the wings morphed into a dark brown, reddish streaks at the very tips giving the impression of feathers.

Mumbo’s wings were black, specked with white like flecks of paint. They were long and wide, while mine were short and angled.

“Ready?” He smiled, holding a rocket in his hand. I glanced to the sky where Stress was lazily doing loops, blending in with the clouds in the infinite blue.

“Yeah. Just… jump and light, right?” I held the rocket in my hand as well, the pull-tab ready for release.

“Right,” Mumbo looked forward, determined, “One… two… three!”

We leapt off the tree at the same time, fumbling in nearly the same manner to unfold the wings. I pulled on the tab a bit before Mumbo, letting the rocket shoot me up into the sky.

Like it was natural, I pressed a button near my chest, and the elytra expanded behind me. I felt my ascent slow, angling forward into a glide easily. The breeze blowing on my face, the way the land below was so far yet steadily rising up… this all felt so…

Familiar.

I was laughing, doing loops carelessly. The air felt fresh, untouched, unchanged. I glanced down, gliding upside down, to see ^V^80 shaking 4!$ head at my antics.

“Grian!”

I gasped, realizing my fall had picked up, I was heading down headfirst to the ground. I fumbled for another rocket, but it was too late. I crashed into the ground hard, dust flying around -

- And I shot up in the middle of some small island. I sat in the middle of a beach, warm sand below my legs. The elytra that had been pinned to my back was gone, along with the note that had been in my pocket.

I panicked, checking everywhere on me for the note. Nothing. The note was gone, gone, gone-

“I knew you didn’t sleep last night!”

I jumped a solid meter in the air, turning rapidly to see the moustached man named Mumbo coming in for a landing. In one hand was the rocket he was using to fly, the other holding the back-to-grey elytra I had worn a moment ago.

“Uh… wh-what do you mean?” I grinned sheepishly, walking towards where he touched down in the sand. The elytra was thrust in my arms, and I was quick to strap it back on.

“You would have respawned in the treehouse if you had slept last night. It’s just how this works. Instead you popped up here.”

I shrugged, finishing attaching the elytra. “So what if I didn’t sleep? Does it matter?”

“Not currently, but give it a few nights.”

“What does that-” Before I could finish my question he had taken off, leaving me to fumble with another rocket and launch into the air.

I followed Mumbo’s lead back to his base, where Stress was pacing on top of the tree anxiously. Her eyes locked onto us as we came in for a landing, a relieved smile taking over her face when I stumbled forward.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Stress walked forward, fussing with my sweater. “One moment you were fine - better than any newbie has the right to be - the next you’re falling to the ground headfirst!”

“I…” I shrugged, pulling back from Stress quickly. “I don’t know. It was weird, I saw…”

What exactly did I see? It was like I was looking down at someone, but they weren’t there. Not really, at least.

“It was like… someone was there, but not.” I looked back up at the duo before me. “The ground was different, and I wasn’t flying down. I… I dunno.”

“Weird,” Mumbo glanced to the sky, where the sun was rising higher and higher. “I would love to chat more about that, but we should get to Xisuma’s base before he has a cow.”

“Right.” Stress flexed her wings, looking to the sky as well. “Follow me.”

~

...Xisuma’s ‘base’ was a bunch of farms with a mineshaft heading downwards. Xisuma himself was interesting. His bright green armor, clashing with a grey and purple helmet gave off the aura of mystery.

“It’s not much, just to get me started,” The man in question smiled sheepishly, leading us to a makeshift dirt-hut with a bed, “But it’s something.”

“I like it,” Stress grinned, “Quite quaint.”

“Thank you Stress for pretending.” He ruffled her hair as she puffed her cheeks out in a pout. I smiled as well, adoring their interaction. Mumbo had taken up a spot sitting nearby on a pile of logs, tinkering with some redstone to keep himself busy.

“Anyways, we should start now.” X gestured to his bed in the hut. “Lie down there before I black you out on your feet.”

Well that didn’t sound bad at all.

“How… exactly does this work?” I questioned, settling onto the bed. I stayed sitting up in the bed as he pulled a holographic panel out of nowhere.

X glanced at me curiously. “Well… everyone has Data. You know what Data is, right?”

“Mate, I know jack about jack.” The snap had me a bit surprised, worried that Xisuma was gonna take it as an insult, but he just laughed a bit.

“Right. Mumbo warned me about the memory stuff…” He sighed. “Well essentially everyone is made of their own Data, which Servers use to identify each person. It’s kind of complicated, but really important to our very existence.”

I nodded a bit. “So… how does that fit into the Scanny-thingy?”

“Well when I perform an Admin Scan, I can have access to your Data. Your Data contains everything about you. Memories, most importantly. By seeing your memories, I’ll maybe be able to figure out how you got here. So lie down, and we can get started.”

With a sigh, I flopped back onto the comfortable sheets. I couldn’t see what X was doing over me, but Stress squeezed my hand from nearby.

“I hope it all works out. I have some base stuff to get back to, but give me a ring if you need me.” She pulled her hand away, before leaving the small hut. The door clicked shut behind her, leaving X and myself alone in the darkness. I knew Mumbo was just outside, but that wasn’t quite as reassuring as I had hoped it would be.

His tablet thingy glowed a faint blue as he paced the small area. “Alright, we’re about ready to go. Close your eyes, and try not to resist this.”

“Resist?” I closed my eyes as requested. “What do you mean, resist?”

He didn’t answer. Well, he might have, if I didn’t suddenly fall through the ground. My eyes shot up as I fell, arms and legs flailing for any kind of purchase. I tried to spread my elytra, but found it missing, along with anything else I had been carrying on my person.

“Try not to resist this.”

Oh. He probably meant this. I took a shaky breath, doing my best to still my body. I was still falling, but I knew I wouldn’t crash. I took another deep breath.

Images appeared around me. I had my eyes closed, and within the blackness I could see movement, color coming to life. Somehow I knew this was all me, or parts of me.

Yet every time I tried to focus on one of the scenes floating around my body, it vanished. It was like grasping at straws, coming up with nothing.

A dull pain came from my back. It was like something was shifting, pushing, breaking free of my skin from underneath. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t scream as the pain grew more and more.

The moment the pain grew too much, I jerked forward and out of the bed. My eyes were open, and breathing was still an issue through the pain. The stabbing, slicing ache slowly faded into nothing as I became more aware of the fact that I was awake.

“Grian.” X had been kneeling in front of me, hadn’t he? “What happened?”

“Back,” I managed to squeak out, another ripple of pain making me jerk, “Hurts.”

“Can I see?” Such a gentleman, asking for my consent amidst the agony. I could only nod a bit, wincing as his cool hands slid the back of my sweater up.

Or, tried to.

Something was trapped there, yanking on my back. I cried out, jerking away from X’s hands.

“Grian, I need to be able to see your back. I need to make sure it’s not a glitch or… something worse.”

A glitch? I had no idea what that meant, but if X was mentioning it it was probably bad. He slowly slid my sweater off, making sure it didn’t get caught on my back again.

Whatever had been there before was gone. Supposedly, I had faint scars right next to each of my shoulder blades, but otherwise there was nothing to suggest pain other than the phantom memories I had.

“And the Scan? Complete failure. I couldn’t glean anything from your Data before you started screaming… and I’d rather not hurt you again.”

“So… there’s no other way for you to figure out who I am, or why I’m here?” I could hear the disappointment in my voice, and I hated it.

“Sadly no. I wish I could do more.” He seemed frustrated, but also… somewhat excited. “I’ll figure it out soon enough, but for now I should get you back to Mumbo’s.”

I nodded, standing and following him out of the dirt hut. The pain was but a faint echo in my mind now, but it felt like foreshadowing. Something big was going on here… and I had no idea who was responsible.

[shielddrake]

Rebel of Sky City Ch. 5

Jesse couldn’t say whether or not she believed in love at first sight.  Really, she couldn’t say she knew very much about love other than the familial love she had for her mother and the platonic love she felt for Reginald.  But she did believe in attraction at first sight, and she was sure that was what she was feeling towards Lukas right now.

 He was the first one she had an extended interaction with since she came to the festival, and he had already proven time and time again that he was a kind and considerate individual. Her mother was wrong.  She didn’t have to worry about anyone wanting to hurt her. Of course, this might simply be because no one knew she was The Founder’s daughter, but that was a little detail they didn’t need to know.

 It was just such a relief to be treated like a normal person by someone.  Lukas didn’t call her by a title or was forced to be polite to her…Well, Lukas was polite, but that seemed to be his normal self, not an act he had to put on for anyone.  And he was even willing to gift her with cake, which was without a doubt in her top three favorite foods.  If her mother was right that most people in Sky City were dangerous and wanted nothing more than to hurt her, then what were the chances she would encounter someone like him on her first trip outside?

 And he has excellent hair, Jesse thought to herself, smiling at him.

 “What are you smiling at?” Lukas asked, cocking his head to the side.

 “Just enjoying this cake.” She took another large bite of out said cake.

 There was a small growl behind them, and Jesse spotted Aiden out of the corner of her eye, holding out some money he had just pulled from his pockets.  He held it out with a frown for a moment before shoving both his hands into his pockets.

 “I’m going to get some melon,” he rumbled as he brushed past the two.

 Jesse watched him leave, her smile turning into a concerned frown.  “Are you okay, Aiden?”

 “Fine.  Just not in the mood for cake.”

 Jesse watched him stomp away.  What’s with him?

 “Don’t worry about Aiden. He can be a bit prickly sometimes,” Lukas described.  “He’s a nice guy once you get used to him.  Don’t know what’s bugging him now, but he’ll get over it.”

 “If you say so.” Jesse finished off her cake and then turned to examine the rest of the festival.  “So, what else is there to do around here?”

 “Lots of games.  I can show you,” her new friend said.  “But we need to wait for Petra first.”

 “Petra?”

 “Friend of mine.  She said she’d meet us here.”

 “Someone say my name?” Jesse spun around at the voice and found herself face-to-chest with a rather tall young woman.  She lifted her head to see a pair of deep brown eyes attached to a long face framed by red hair.  Jesse stared at her.  “Wow. You’re…really tall.”

 “Yeah, I get that a lot,” the woman replied.  “Thanks for waiting for me, Lukas.”

 “No problem.”  Lukas waved a hand between the two.  “You get your thing done?

 “Yep, all set.”

 Thing? Jesse wondered to herself.  What thing?

 “Sorry.  Petra, this is Jesse.  I just met her today,” Lukas said.  “Jesse, meet Petra.”

 “Hi.”

 “Oh, hi.”  Petra had a smaller smile, but she was no less welcoming in her demeanor.  “Nice to meet you.”

 “Same to you.”  Jesse couldn’t help but smile.  Well, she’s friendly.  A bit distant, but friendly.

 “Jesse’s never been to the Spring Festival before,” Lukas described.  “And we were just talking about what there is to do here.”

 “Oh, then I’ve got the perfect thing for you!”  Petra declared, her smile taking on a slightly more sinister expression.  “You’ve got a chance for some revenge, Lukas.”

 “Really?”

 “Oh yeah!”  Jesse was sincerely worried about Petra’s face now. “Remember the dunk tank from last year?”

 Lukas smirked.  “Yeah, what about it?”

 “Guess who’re the dunkees this year.”

 Lukas seemed to think for a minute before his eyes lit up.  “Seriously?!”

 “Yeah!”

 Jesse glanced back and forth between the two, taking in their excited expressions that had just a hint of mischief to them.  Her brow furrowed and her eyes darted around.

 “Um, I’ve missed something, haven’t I?”

 “I’m going to go tell Aiden where we’re going,” Lukas announced as he ran off.  “I’ll meet you there.”

 As Lukas made his way through the crowds to find his friend, Jesse suddenly felt like a fish out of water. For the first time, she was without someone even remotely familiar to her, and the adrenaline she had felt when she first arrived was beginning to wear off.  She wasn’t really sure what she was supposed to think or feel.

 “Great, I thought we’d never get rid of Aiden,” Petra announced, snapping her out of her concern.

 “You don’t like him much, do you?” Jesse asked playfully.

 Petra rolled her eyes and huffed.  “In case you didn’t notice, Aiden’s full of himself.”

 “But I thought he hangs out with you?”

 “Because I hang out with Lukas, not Aiden.”  Petra put her hand to her forehead.  “Don’t know why Lukas likes that guy, honestly.”

 Jesse gave out a nervous laugh.  “You’ve know Lukas for a while?”

 “Practically forever,” she answered.  “Our moms were friends, and my parents would babysit him when his mom was working.  We pretty much grew up together.”

 “So, he’s…” Do I dare ask if they’re dating?  “Anything more than a friend?”

 Petra quickly shook her head.  “Oh god, no. That’d be like dating my little brother or something.”

 Jesse let out a sigh, relief washing over her.  Petra raised an eyebrow at her, but said nothing.

 “Come on, Jesse,” Petra said.  “Follow me. I’ll show you the dunk booth.”

 “What’s a dunk booth?” Jesse asked.

 “Someone’s suspended over a tank of water, and you throw a ball at a target,” she explained as they walked.  “If you hit the target, the person gets dunked in the water.”

 Jesse blinked and chuckled. “Never heard of it, but it sounds fun. Can’t imagine the person getting dunked having a good time though.”

 “Eh, depends on the person,” Petra added.  “Some people think it’s fun.  Others, like today, not so much.”

 “And that’s why are you and Lukas excited about it again?”

 “Let’s just say that the people who drew the short straw are not the nicest around.”  Petra’s smirk spread across her face again.  “And I’ve been dying for some payback.”

 Lukas was already at the booth when the two women arrived.  Aiden wasn’t with him, so Jesse could only assume he didn’t want to join in whatever this “revenge” entailed.  He had his arms crossed and a wicked grin on his face, and Jesse could hear him laughing a bit when they got close enough.

 “I am a happy man today.”

 Jesse glanced at the booth to see what all the excitement was about.  The man running the booth seemed older, possibly even older than Reginald, and was balding but had a white beard.  He wore a deep green robe, and he was passing out potatoes for people to throw.  Next to him sat a soaking-wet woman with strange bluish hair and dark clothing. Behind and to the right of the booth was a large tank of water with a seat above it.  Sitting on the seat was a white-haired man in purple robes, making him seem even more regal than his superior face would imply.  Jesse instantly didn’t like that look.

 “Otto’s running the booth while Hadrian and Mevia get to be the dunkees,” Petra stated.  “I’ve already dunked Mevia.  Lukas, will you do the honors for Hadrian?”

 “What’ve you got against these Mevia and Hadrian people?”  Jesse asked as Lukas gave an eager nod.  She glanced at the man in purple, obviously Hadrian.  “What did they do to make you want revenge?”

 “Mevia is Hadrian’s henchmen, basically,” Lukas illuminated.  “And Hadrian has a bad habit of stealing crafting supplies from…from some of our friends.”

 Jesse’s eye widened. “Stealing?  Crafting items?”

 “Our friend Olivia waited six months before The Founder approved her petition for glowstone dust so she could make a glowstone block.  For light, you know.”  Petra’s voice nearly became a growl.  “And Hadrian stole them from her.”

 “What?!”

 “We could never prove it though,” Lukas continued.  “And that’s just one instance.”

 “And you didn’t tell the guards?”  Jesse asked. “Or The Founder?  She didn’t replace the glowstone dust?”

 “Well, we never went to The Founder,” Lukas answered, running a hand through his beautiful blond hair.

 “And the guards?” Petra repeated.  “Nah. They didn’t believe us.  No proof, remember?”

 Jesse’s face flushed with anger and she squinted her eyes at the purple-clad man, still sitting and waiting for someone to hit the target.  No one was successful, and he was eating it up.

 Eggs would be better, Jesse thought.

 “Bunch of chumps today, Mevia, Otto,” Hadrian bragged, holding his arms behind his back.  His smile made Jesse’s stomach twist.  “I’ll just stay up here, nice and dry.  No one’s hitting the target any time soon. Maybe I’ll take a nap.”

 Jesse clenched her fists at his nonchalant attitude.  “And he’s stolen from a lot of people?”

 “I’d say he almost makes his living doing it,” Lukas confirmed.  “He took my father’s redstone torch the other day.”

 With a deep frown, Jesse marched over to Otto’s booth and grabbed a potato.  She cocked an eyebrow at it.  

 “A potato?”  It wasn’t like potatoes were the most aerodynamic things to throw at a target after all.  “Are you trying to make it hard to hit the target?”

 “You’d be surprised at how hard a potato can hit with a solid throw,” Otto professed.  “Care to take a shot at it, young lady?”

 “I think I’m safe up here, buckaroo,” Hadrian taunted, giving Jesse an amused smirk.  “I doubt a little girl like you could make this throw.”

 We’ll see about that!

 Jesse lined herself up with the target for the dunk tank and threw the potato up and down in one hand for a few moments.  Petra gave Lukas a curious look, who only had a smile on his face.

 “You’re going to let her make the shot for you?”  Petra asked, puzzled.

 “Well, you weren’t with us when we were at Ivy’s slime booth earlier.”  

 Jesse gave Lukas a grin before doing a complete one-eighty by giving Hadrian a glare of phenomenal proportions, and for the first time the man looked worried.  Her next words were just loud enough to not be called a whisper.

 “I.  Don’t.  Like. Thieves.”

 With that, Jesse wound up and threw the potato straight and true, hitting the target perfectly in the center and with more than enough force to knock it back.  Hadrian let out a curse as he plummeted into the tank below, messing up not only his hair but his robe as well.  Jesse, Lukas and Petra all let out a whoop of triumph, and Jesse smiled at Hadrian while he sputtered and coughed, climbing out of the tank. He glared at Jesse.

 “It doesn’t make up for the stolen goods,” Jesse said, turning to her friends.  “But it’s a start.”

 The people gathered around them all cheered, giving Jesse various congratulations.  A long line started to form as everyone nearby decided they wanted to take a shot at Hadrian and Mevia as well.  The two thieves glared at Jesse for giving the people encouragement to get them dunked.  Hadrian appeared to mouth something to Jesse, which she guessed might have been something like, “I’ll be watching you, slugger.”  But she couldn’t really be sure.  He may have been saying, “All bewitching you slacker” or saying something about slugs.  Who knew?  Jesse never could read lips.

 “Nice!”  Lukas said, lifting his hand for a high-five.  This time, she returned it without hesitation.

 “Nice arm,” Petra complimented her.  “Where’d you learn to throw like that?”

 Jesse blushed, but only a little bit.  “Eh, here and there.  And like I said, I don’t like thieves.”

 “At least someone’s willing to stand up to them,” Lukas commented, his hands on his hips.  “That’s more than the guards ever did.”

 Jesse pressed her lips together.  I wonder if I can find a way to ask Reginald to keep an eye on them without him figuring out I was out here today?

 “That’s enough of that,” Petra proclaimed, throwing her arms in the air.  “This is a festival!  Let’s go enjoy it!”

 Jesse’s darker thoughts left her in an instant at the reminder of the Spring Festival.  “Yeah!  What else can we do?!”

 Lukas laughed and took her hand.  “Come on! There’s a ring toss, bobbing for apples, and lots of other things!”

 Petra followed after the two a little more slowly as they all headed off to enjoy more of the festivities.

 Hours passed and Jesse honestly could not recall a single moment in her life when she had such a wonderful time!  The three of them played pretty much every game the festival had to offer: bowling, throwing darts with balloons, ring toss, bobbing for apples (which Jesse loved even though it got her hair horribly wet) and face painting, among other things.  She passed on that last one – the last thing she wanted was for her mother to wonder how she had gotten her face painted – but Lukas had allowed her to paint whatever she wanted on his face.  No one was going to give her any praise for her art that could only be described as abstract, but they enjoyed it nonetheless.

 The fun came to an end and as she watched the sun begin to set.  It nearly broke Jesse’s heart.

 This is the best time I’ve had in my life, she thought as she watched Lukas and Petra take part in an eating contest.  Petra, who claimed to have an iron tongue, was winning.  I don’t want this day to end.

 It had to though.  All good things did, and not even half an hour later did Jesse claim she needed to leave.

 “I have to get home before my mother starts to wonder where I am,” she explained to her new friends. “I really want to stay longer…”

 “Why can’t you?” Lukas asked, and Jesse could swear there was a bit of his whine in his tone.  “Why would you get in trouble for going to the Spring Festival?”

 Jesse shook her head. “My mother’s really protective. She didn’t want me to come today. I had to sneak out.”

 It wasn’t a lie per se, and it was just enough truth that she doubted they would ask exactly who her mother was.

 “Tough luck,” Petra commented.  “What are the chances you can sneak out again?”

 “Yeah, it’d be really cool to hang out with you again,” Lukas added.  “Festival or not.”

 That made Jesse’s heart soar.  These two wanted to see her again!  Hang out with her again!  Her!

 “I’d love to!” she announced.  “I can try, but I don’t know when I’ll have the chance to get away again.  My mother keeps a real close eye on me.  Today was kind of an exception.”

 “Whenever you can would be great though,” Lukas said.  “I live at the inn, the one next to the Grand Garden.  If you get the chance, come by and say hello.”

 “I didn’t know there was an inn in Sky City,” she replied.  “Why do we need one?  It’s not like we have visitors?”

 Lukas shrugged.  “I’ve asked my dad that too.  He says that people should always have a place to go in case of any kind of emergency.”

 “That’s good of him.” Jesse smiled at the concept.  “Thinking about others that way.”

 “Yeah, my dad’s cool.”   Lukas’ cheeks turned a little pink at her compliment.  “You should meet him sometime.”

 “I’d love to!”  She glanced back at the sun, which was steadily getting lower and lower in the skin.  “…I really go to go now.”

 Lukas and Petra both looked rather disappointed by this, but Petra tried to give her a hopeful smile.

 “We’ll see you again soon, okay?”

 This lifted Jesse’s spirits instantly.  To Petra, it wasn’t a question that she would see them again.  It was just plain fact.

 “Yes.  I’ll see you later!”

 Jesse gave each of them a hug (which was a little stiff with Petra, but Jesse ignored that) before they turned and headed their own way.  Jesse watched them go for a few minutes, smiling at the laughter the two friends shared and the way Petra gently ribbed Lukas in his side.  He said something in response, but Jesse couldn’t hear what.  It wasn’t until they were out of sight that she started to head back.

 Jesse made her way back to the alley where she knew she could climb back to the guard barracks, and from there she could climb back to the side of the palace, to her ladder, and return to her room.  It would be no problem at all.

 As Jesse made her way to the alley, she was unaware of the pair of bright green eyes following her every move up until she entered the dark alley, when those eyes lost track of her.

 Jesse breathed a huge sigh of relief when she made it back to her room, back to her cage.  She was exhausted not only from the trip, but also from the adrenaline created from going back and forth to the festival. She had no idea what she would have done if she had been caught by one of the guards, and she didn’t want to think about what would happen if her mother learned of what she just did.

 None of that mattered though.  She hadn’t been caught and now she was back.  Isa never had to know.

 Jesse ran a hand through her hair, and then scowled at the sweat that came back with it.

 “Better change clothes,” Jesse said to herself, since she was still wearing her overalls.  “Don’t want to leave any evidence behind that Mother could find.”

 She quickly cleaned up and changed her clothes, this time wearing a long dress with split sleeves. This was more like how Isa preferred Jesse to dress, and although Jesse didn’t really mind, she would like a hand in picking out her own clothes for once.

 Her timing couldn’t be more perfect, as the moment Jesse was finished and sat down on her bed to rest, there was a loud knock on her door.  She jumped with a gasp and took several breathes to calming her racing heart as she stood and went to open the door.

 She was met with the dark eyes of her tutor.  “Good evening, Jesse.”

 “Hi, Ivor,” she returned. “What’s going on?”

 “Just coming to say your mother is back and would like you to join her for dinner,” Ivor replied. He raised an eyebrow at her. “Have you been studying all day? I haven’t seen you.”

 Oh shoot!  “Well, um, not all day, but, uh, you know, just reviewing some recipes.”

 “Really?  Because I knocked early today and you didn’t answer.”

 Jesse gulped before she could stop herself.  “Um, well, I fell asleep after a while.  That must’ve been why.  Crafting recipes can be tiring, you know?”

 Ivor didn’t looked convinced, and his crossed arms only emphasized the point.  “Uh-huh.  I’ve fallen asleep when I was working on some potion recipes before.”

 He doesn’t believe me!  Crud!

 “But I suppose that’s neither here nor there,” Ivor continued, seeming to drop the subject, although the look in his eyes showed Jesse that he was still suspicious.  “In any case, The Founder would like to see you. Are you hungry?”

 “Starved actually!”

 As the two of them made their way to the dining room, Jesse couldn’t help but have a spring in her step. After the wonderful day she just had, it was nearly impossible for her to not show some sort of happiness.  Ivor must have noticed, because he watched her with a raised eyebrow for pretty much the entire journey.  If Jesse was hoping to keep her behavior subtle, she was failing miserably.

 But if Ivor was suspicious of anything, he didn’t say, and the two reached the dining room without much conversation.  Isa was already there, standing to the side of the table and speaking with Reginald. A small box sat at their feet, with the lid placed very loosely on top.  She didn’t hear her daughter or Ivor enter at first, but Ivor cleared his throat and Isa turned her attention to them.  A smile spread across her face and she quickly walked over to give Jesse a hug.

 “Good evening, dear,” she said.  “How was your day?”

 “Oh, you know.”  Jesse gave a noncommittal shrug.  “Just studying.  Everything work out with the monsters?”

 “I have a few new scratches, but nothing terribly serious,” The Founder replied.  “But something did cross my mind while I was down there.”

 “Oh?  What’s that?”

 “I kept thinking about you being here in the palace by yourself, and I decided to do something about that.”

 Jesse sat in one of the chairs and gave her mother a curious look.  She isn’t going to say what I think she’s going to say.  No way is she going to let me leave the palace.  It’s got to be something else.

 “Reginald?” The Captain leaned down and picked up and brought it over to them, setting it gently on the table before Jesse.  Isa’s smile faded into a bit of sadness.  “I know you’re really lonely most of the time, and while I can’t do much about you needing to stay in the palace, I thought I could give you a little companion. Like how I grew up with Benedict.”

 “Like how you��”

 Jesse was interrupted when the box began making some squealing noises. Jesse blinked a few times and squinted at the box.

 What in the world?

 A small, pink snout popped out of the box, partially pushing the lid off.  Jesse lifted the lid the rest of the way, and found herself face-to-face with a tiny porcine face.  The two stared at each other for a moment before the piglet let out the tiniest of oinks. Jesse let out a squeal that nearly matched the little pig’s, and she pulled him out of the box to cradle him in her arms.

 “Oh my gosh, he’s adorable!”

 The pig snuggled further into her arms and let out another set of oinks.  Jesse scratched him behind the ears and stroked the brown spot on his back.

 She looked up at her mother. “He’s really mine?  I can keep him?”

 Isa nodded, and everyone in the room was smiling brightly as Jesse continued to embrace her new friend.

 Three new friends in one day!  That’s got to be a record or something.