#llsmp au

[salemoleander]

every fugitive hour leaves its mark

This is the fic I wrote for the Extreme Timed Challenge Exchange as a gift with prompts around Villain!Cleo, Vigilant!Etho, and a superhero AU. Thank you so much to @extremetimedchallengeexchange for putting this together!

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

Chin propped on her hand, Cleo idly moved papers around her desk and tried to convince her eyes to stay open. It was late, sky already in the shade of off-blue that heralded pre-dawn, but she just- She could feel that she was on the edge of something with this research. The seed of a plan of entry for the branch of banks that kept bragging about its “on-staff heroes” and “unrobbability”. Claims which were, respectively, foolishly overconfident and not actually a word - and both equally grating.

She should really just be done with this, come back to it in the morning. The sleeve over the nub of her left arm was irritating some nerve or muscle or something - Cleo would’ve taken the damn thing off hours ago, if she’d known it was just going to be a night in of paperwork. But Lizzie had said the team might go out, and she didn’t want to go through the rigmarole of putting her arm on if that happened.

Slumped in their chair, something shifted in the background hum of late-night noise. They felt their exhaustion drift into watchful attention. This was an old building; its creaks and rattles had a rhythm to them, and something was off . The subtle wrongness of the silence made them sit up, just a moment before-

Someone knocked on their door.

No one should ever knock on their door. Very few people even knew where they lived, and of those almost all had a key. Or didn’t need to bother with one. She’d come home from missions several times to find Scott had teleported inside, eaten half the contents of her fridge, and passed out on the couch. Regardless, no one should be knocking.

Standing slowly, avoiding the creaky spots in the planks as much as was possible in a third-floor flat built half a century ago, Cleo made her way to the door. She peered through the peephole. 

Whoever was out there either wasn’t trying to surprise her or didn’t know much about her power, because they were still in plain view of the door. Idiot. Then she caught a flash of a black face-mask as the person raised their hand to knock again, and with a jolt of recognition Cleo wrenched the door open.

Blue Fire- Blue, she decided, because Blue Fire was long and stupid- stood on her doorstep, in his stupid ramshackle hero get-up. One hand was still half-raised as if to knock. His normally-white hair was pinkish in some places and grey in others, blood and dust discoloring it.

She glared at him, both in the traditional way and in the way only she could - bringing her power to bear and freezing him in place.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Cleo hissed. 

He stared at her, mask moving in and out with his breath, but otherwise no response... Right.

Graciously, she released her power enough for him to move his jaw and respond.

"You're my only hope, Cleo!" He said, with the bright tone and panicked energy of a car salesman who knows he's already lost the sale. "I'm desperate for help, a harmless man hoping to throw himself on your, your tender mercy- c'mon, stop laughing, I spent the entire walk here thinking of this."

"My tender mercy?" Cleo asked, eyes watering slightly from laughter. "Sorry, I'm fresh out of that. I think that's what hospitals are for."

“I don't want to get arrested."

"Fair enough. That's what friends are for - which we aren't."

"I know we’re enemies. I swear I’m not here to hurt you. No one else even knows I’m-” he cut off, wincing at the admission.

Cleo snorted dubiously. He'd dropped the woe-is-me tone, which was good because it was annoying, but bad because it was harder to ignore 'exhausted blunt plea for help' than 'child pleading for a cookie'. Harder, but not impossible. This guy was either the worst hero she’d ever met (a high bar, really, considering Poultry Man existed), or he was lying to set her up for some team of heroes to bust through her windows. And probably, she thought as she made to shut the door and prepare for a fight, the latter.

“I’m serious, Cleo.” He said her name like- like he was begging. She paused.

Blue raised his eye to meet her gaze, and that was when she noticed he was shaking. Tiny trembles, running up and down his legs and core, making the shadows on his face from the fluorescent overhead shift constantly. Her power stopped voluntary movement, not- which meant-

Cleo grit their teeth, made split-second peace with the fact that the next few hours were going to be so annoying , and released their power’s hold on Blue. He staggered, half stepping and half falling forward, and they lurched to catch him. They of course couldn’t feel anything through their left prosthetic, but the hand gripping his waist immediately felt wet. 

Cursing, she pulled him inside, then slammed and locked the door while he leaned heavily on her.

Blue was silent as she helped him limp forward and sit down on what she’d long-ago designated the Blood Chair. (It was easy to clean! In her opinion everyone who went around hitting people for a living should have a blood chair. Saved a lot on cleaning fees from increasingly-suspicious specialists.) 

The arm he had wrapped tightly around his abdomen drew her eye.

“Where?”

Making a barely-audible grunt of pain as he moved, Blue shifted his arm to reveal four jagged gashes over his ribs, shirt in tatters over the area. His dark outfit disguised a lot of it, but between the blood on her hands and how wet his shirt looked, she knew it was bad.

Voice shaky and rough, he said, “They had me down, already. But they still pulled off my vest. Did this and walked away.”

“Bloody hell.” The cuts made her anxious, which was stupid because she’d been around plenty of blood and treated worse. Whatever, it’s fine; she could figure out why this injury freaked her out so much later.

Cleo whirled to run and grab her medkit from the bathroom. She only took a few steps before she turned back to point an accusatory finger at him. “Don’t fucking move, or you will be leaving this apartment via window. I will be right back.”

Blue didn’t look like he was capable of eating a sandwich, nevermind setting a bomb or performing espionage. Still, she figured an extra threat never hurt. He gave a tiny nod.

She made her way to the tiny pink-tiled bathroom in the hall, yanking her first aid bag from its place on the wall. Throwing open a door of her medicine cabinet, she grabbed a few extra rounds of gauze. For a moment Cleo caught their face in the mirror. Tired, puffy eyes; frazzled red hair; a split lip left over from their last fight. Their mind was jumbled from exhaustion, but one question rose to the top:

Why am I helping this guy?

There were lots of noble reasons to help - chivalry, honor, similar nonsense. There were even more ignoble reasons - Blue could be a hostage, provide intelligence. Ultimately though, she was subject to neither thread of motivation. She was indulging a much stupider and less useful reason - curiosity. Why did he come here? 

Why her?

She walked, arms full, back to the living room’s yellow-cast glow. Blue remained in the chair she’d left him in. Arm clamped to his side, head tilted back in exhaustion, eyes closed. Adorable.

“Wake up, sweetheart,” she sang out, voice booming in the quiet room. Was it necessary? No. Was she going to torment this guy as much as possible while he was here? Absolutely.

His eye popped open, and he stared for a moment in anxious, blank incomprehension before awareness cleared his gaze. Then he closed his eye again and whined, plaintively and dramatically.

“Aw c’mon Cleo- I’m already grievously injured. Can’t you just leave me to sleep?”

Dumping the armful of medical supplies on the table, they pulled an ottoman over and sat in front of him. 

“One, no, because I don’t like you. I only let people I like fall asleep bleeding all over my furniture. Two, no, because I don’t know what happened to you. You might have a concussion.”

“I didn’t hit my head.”

Cleo grinned, channeling every bit of her manic exhaustion into it. “Don’t care.”

She grabbed safety shears from the bag, and turned back to reach for his shirt. The moment he registered that she was reaching for him, his right foot settled flat on the floor ready to move. His breath hitched for just a beat, morphing into a coughing fit that broke the tension of the moment but left one of his palms red-flecked. 

She paused while he composed himself, hands lowered to her knees. Thought for a moment, of the way Lizzie couldn’t be near candles anymore. Of how Ren had to cut his own hair. 

Once Blue was breathing normally again, Cleo cleared their throat and drew his sharp gaze. “So- I need to cut your shirt off- just around the wound. Safety shears like this are blunt at the ends, so I’d have to work inordinately hard to stab you, and I’d really rather be asleep than get in a knife-fight. No offense, you’re clearly great at knife fights.”

He huffed a laugh, then grimaced. “Don’t be funny. I think I have some busted ribs.”

“I’ll try not to,” she deadpanned. The corner of his mouth twitched, only noticeable under his mask because she was watching for a reaction.

“Okay, I’m gonna grab your shirt,” she said, reaching out again. He kept a watchful eye on the movement, but otherwise didn’t seem like he was about to cut and run, so she counted that as a win.

She pinched the hem of his shirt and began the process of gently tugging it away from where it was stuck to his injuries. He grunted a few times, knuckles white on the arm of the chair. Once it was free, she held up the shears silently, and then moved them to the hem. Her hand brushed his leg, and she was surprised at how warm it felt even through the fabric of his pants. Usually in her experience blood loss made people colder, but he felt almost fevered. She tucked that bit of observation away for now.

Cutting his shirt off and finally seeing the extent of the damage, she whistled. “They really did a number on you.”

Blue’s face tensed, gaze skittering away to focus on the far wall. “Yeah.”

“Just out of a sort of, let’s call it professional curiosity- can I ask who did this?” Not that she cared- okay, that was a lie. She cared a little bit, now. Cleo could be violent but she wasn’t cruel, and the jagged path of these marks spoke of pain for pain’s sake. And she had rescued too many cats to have a heart entirely hardened to desperate, injured creatures showing up on her doorstep.

“You can’t guess?” His voice was measured and cold. It made something in their chest twist. They were frightened. Not fear of him, but a kind of fear nonetheless.

Still, she rolled her eyes in response. “I wouldn’t ask if I knew the answer already, would I? You don’t have to tell me, I just-”

“Your allies,” he spat. 

“They wouldn’t- they wouldn’t do this.” Cleo said it quietly, like a fact. Because it was, to her. They would fight if they needed, but that was when it was necessary, not- not this wanton violence. Not a blow delivered after someone was down. That wasn’t how they did things.

“Well, they did,” he muttered.

Hot defensive anger hit her in waves, and she glared until he froze. 

Then her brain finally finished the terrible math equation it had been trying to solve since she’d first seen the wounds. She realized she’d seen slashes that width apart, before. They’d been on her last sofa. Ren had slept over, and woken up disoriented, with his claws out. Seeing the same shape of injury on a person was- 

It’s fine! It’s fine, she thought, a little hysterically. Deal with that later. For now, she dropped her power and sat back to give Blue some room.

“This was a bad idea,” he said. “Just give me ten minutes to patch myself up, and I can go, and we can pretend this didn’t happen.”

“No.”

“No?” Blue asked, cautiously. He was clearly assessing how close she was, how far the window, how far the door. She sighed.

“I mean, you’re welcome to do that if you want, I won’t stop you,” they said, channeling a calm they were not currently feeling. “But I- fucking hell, I wish I didn’t, but I believe you. And the least I can do now is patch you up.”

He stared at them like they’d just announced the moon was made of cheese. “You believe me.”

“Yes. I don’t want to,” she admitted. “I want to say you’re lying and throw you out a window. But I believe you.”

“Alrighty,” he said, voice speeding up as he talked. “That makes things a lot easier. My name is Etho. Please don’t remove my mask, or take me to a hospital, or kill me. Please especially don’t kill me.” His speech was rapid, now.

Cleo stared in confusion. “Oooo… kay?”

He smiled beatifically, white hair haloed by the amber light of the ceiling lamp. “Thanks Cleo! Owe you one.” Etho’s eye fluttered shut and he slumped back in the chair, head lolling onto his shoulder.

“Delightful! Wonderful! Perfect! Fuck!” she said, already, reaching for her supplies. It was going to be a long night.

[shepscapades]

[dbhc flavored] Hermit A Day May '25, Day 6: Mumbo!

Doing something a bit different with this one, too! I've always imagined that Mumbo switches to vests for the life series for mobility and such, and I think this is Mumbo's first major fit change in dbhc (as far as I have planned)! So I had lots of fun drawing some of my favorite Mumbo Last Life moments for today's prompt :]

[silverskye13]

Etho looks down quietly at his basket, making sure everything he needs is inside. He knows it is best to only make one trip down to the water. The water is treacherous. He is strong enough to withstand it, but of course, everyone who ever drowned thinks they're strong enough until their lungs are bursting. So. He double checks. He makes sure.

He has a week's worth of laundry. Some dishes he needs sand from the river to scour. A bucket, so he won't have to make this trip for another few days. There are a few pieces of leather armor in need of a quick rinse before they're polished. Also, he's thirsty. He tries not to drink his rain water. He needs it to last.

Finally, Etho belts on his sword, hefts the basket over one shoulder, and the empty bucket with his free hand. He looks to the short path that leads down to the dock. The water is blue as the diamond sky above, edged in gold from the slowly gathering sunset. Birds are singing. Breeze whispers through the willow branches and cattails. Across the river, a small herd of deer is moving through the rushes. One breaks apart from the others to drink. Etho sighs out a long breath, steels himself, and walks down the trail.

The water is cursed. Very few people still come to the river for chores. Most only dare to run down for a few buckets of water when the well is running dry.

_____

When Tango saw him gathering his things earlier, he'd shaken his head and made a warding gesture with his hand. Protection. For himself. For Etho. Or just to ward away the idea of evil.

"Scream, I guess," Tango had told him. "I doubt we'll make it in time, but yanno, we'll know what happened."

Etho had only offered a tense smile behind his mask. Everyone would know what happened, scream or not.

"I'll be fine," Etho said. "I've been fine before."

He said it a lot more confidently than he felt, and Tango wasn't reassured. Tango had a good nose for things like that. He sniffed the air, and made the chagrined expression of someone who could smell a coming thunderstorm.

"Yeah. Sure." Tango sniffed again, and then tapped the side of his nose with a knowing finger. "On second thought, maybe save your breath."

_____

Etho walks out onto the dock, his footsteps silent as he can make them. He took his boots off by the dock's edge. They're heavy when they're wet. He sets the basket down gently on the aged wood. He fills the bucket first. In the neat and tidy plan of his habits, he thinks the bucket is the one he least wants to be left last with. It's heavy and cumbersome, and requires leaning over the water's edge. So he fills it, trying to disturb the water as little as possible, and pads back to his boots to set it down gently beside them. Then he's back to his basket, and getting to the louder work, what he know will attract attention.

He grabs a shirt and dunks it into the water, wringing it out a few times before scrubbing it against the dock's edge. Someone nailed a washboard here, probably to make it easier for everyone else who needed to scrub up -- one less cumbersome thing to drag to the riverside. Beside it, Etho can see long scratches in the wood, vanishing off the side. He has large hands, so they don't line up to him, but the unmistakable look of nails scratching, clinging, is recognizable even still. He wonders idly who made them. Probably someone playing, before the water was cursed. Or an animal that swam across the bank and needed help scurrying out.

He is tempted to think it's something more sinister, but he knows better.

The water turns from diamond blue to sunflower yellow, then to blazing orange with rusted and bleeding edges. The herd of deer on the other side of the water wanders off, sated. A fox calls in the wood somewhere, an uncanny, very human scream. The bird calls twitter into silence, replaced by chirping frogsong. Etho wrings out the last of his clothes and wipes his forehead with the back of his hand. He checks how far the sun has dipped in the sky, and decides he has an our yet before dark settles in.

With his clothes washed, he sets them back in the basket, neatly folded. They'll wrinkle probably, but when he puts them out on the line, the wind will straighten them out. His knees are sore from kneeling, his back from leaning. His armor will be easier to clean if he can settle in, brace it on his crossed legs.

Etho looks around the water, at the deceptive stillness. It's a slow, lazy river, hardly pushing the water fast enough to put ripples on it. There is one place near the opposite bank where a long shadow stretches from a stone, broken by the reflection of red sunset. It's the kind of image he would expect to see on a lake on a windless day. He's heard before that quiet rivers make for deadly waters, that there is a current in holes in the riverbed that will devour someone.

But Etho isn't in the water. He's on the dock, and the dock is safe. Nothing will drag him off it. Nothing in the water is strong enough. It doesn't have to be. There is some comfort in that, in knowing he can't be devoured against his will. It is why he still comes to the river. It is why he dares. Etho sits back and crosses his legs, bracing his leathers against his knees. He scoops a palm full of water onto them and scrubs, trying to get blood out of the small cracks where it will settle and rot. His chainmail is back at the fort up the hill, where its heaviness can't encumber him. It cleans itself reasonably well, all the links clattering together, just so long as he doesn't roll in any mud.

There is shuffling on the dock behind him, the creaking of old wood. Etho tilts his head, breathes in deeply through his nose. His pulse doesn't quicken. After a momentary pause, he resumes his work.

"Hey BDubs," he says conversationally. "Trying to sneak up on me?"

"Wh-- no. Of course not." There is mischief in BDub's answer, a grin in his voice. "The great Etho? Never. You probably heard me coming from a mile away."

"Maybe not a mile," Etho chuckles humbly. "You going to join me?"

"Well, I don't know," BDubs laughs, leaning over Etho's shoulder. "Is it safe?"

"I don't know why it wouldn't be."

"Water's cursed," BDubs reminds him. "There could be boogiemen about."

"You trying to tell me something BDubs?" Etho asks slyly, peering up at his friend.

"What? No of course not," BDubs laughs. He sits beside Etho, plunging his bare feet into the water beside the dock. "Even if I was, you know me Etho. You? Kill you? You'd kill me first."

"I don't know about that," Etho hums, splashing another palm full of water on a buckle clasp and scrubbing at a rusted stain with his thumb. "You made pretty efficient work of Grian."

"Grian had it coming," BDubs shrugs. "Got too caught up listening to the music."

Etho chuckles. "The music was very good."

BDubs kicks his feet in the water, humming the tune momentarily under his breath. It's a haunting sound, not really meant to be sung. Not by anything human. Etho shudders in spite of himself.

"Man, don't do that."

"Sorry! Haha! Sorry. Couldn't help it," BDubs grins a gap-tooth smile in Etho's direction, his eyes bright and gilded by the setting sun. "It's probably one of the coolest kills I've ever gotten."

"I'll make sure Tango knows you said that."

"Oh, Tango's fine." Bdubs waves a hand dismissively. "He's just upset 'cause I scared him."

"You did more than just scare him."

Dark room. Dark water. Tango screaming and running, scrabbling at the walls with his nails. If they ever went back to that little cave, Etho wondered if there would be marks on the walls like the docks, played, desperate fingers, digging.

"Well he's alive, isn't he?"

"I guess he is."

"Then he should get over it!"

Etho shakes his head, laughing. BDubs' voice is over-loud on the quiet lake, but its a good sound. Full of intensity and joy, and revelry. It made the silence between his words stark and empty, and Etho was always loathe to fill it.

Bdubs suddenly wraps an arm around Etho's shoulders, pulling him into a conspiratorial embrace. "Hey, I've been meaning to talk to you, by the way."

Etho suddenly has goosebumps on his neck, his spine, his arms. BDubs' arm is cold against his shoulders. He smells of bracken and standing water, and his eyes are bright as sunset. Etho takes a long, slow breath in and holds it for a moment.

"Uh... Yeah, BDubs?"

"I've got a plan, you know, for the others," Bdubs continues, his voice dropping to something near a whisper. There is something on the edge of his tone like the ringing of bells. Excitement. Thrill. Hunger. "But I'll need some help. I mean, I'm good at redstone, you know 'ol BDubs knows his stuff. But I need an expert. Someone good at traps."

"You know you've always got me Bdubs," Etho laughs, and it is hard to keep the nervousness from his voice. He's not sure he succeeds. "I'm happy to help. Just uh--" He shrugs his shoulders, and BDubs' arm falls away. "You know. Keep your distance."

"You're not scared of me, are you Etho?" Bdubs laughs, and it's loud and boisterous, and perfect. It echoes off the water like glass. Bells and ringing. He gives Etho a prideful, knowing look. "No, you're not scared of little 'ol BDubs. I know what you're scared of."

BDubs suddenly turns and slips into the water. Not all the way. His hands are still clinging to the wood, his elbows resting on the dock like it was a pool side. But the splash hits Etho's side and makes him shudder so hard, he drops the armor he'd been polishing. In a flash he's on his feet, backing away two, three steps. His movements feel too slow and heavy, and there's an instant of panic in him.

"Woah man!" Etho snaps, startled. He reaches for something, anything-- "I said keep your--!"

But BDubs is laughing, kicking his feet, stirring up the mud at the bottom of the river. "Oh come on Etho. It's water."

Etho takes three long breaths, filling his lungs to bursting before pushing the air out again heavy through his nose.

"You're fine you big baby," BDubs grins, resting his head on his crossed arms. His legs stop kicking, stop stirring up the mud, and Etho can see the water is shallow enough that he's standing on the bottom. He'd thought-- he'd thought-- "You'd think I tried to drown you, jeez."

He thought it was deeper.

Etho held his breath for a moment, counted slowly. He wanted to reach his hand to his neck, to check his pulse. To see how fast his heart was beating. He moved his hand to, and at a mocking glance from his friend, decides instead to stoop to pick up his dropped armor. He walks carefully to his basket and places it inside.

"Why'd you come down here, anyway?" BDubs asks. "If you're so scared, I mean."

"You know me, BDubs. I always come back," Etho answers, almost a reflex. A rehearsed answer. "Who else would I go to?"

"Tango and Skizz?"

"They won't keep me safe like you will." Etho points out. He shudders again, the cold from BDub's touch had seeped into him more than he thought it had. He's acclimating though, like jumping into a pool. It's a cold that seeps out of him, warms as it settles. "It's me and you to the end, right buddy?"

"Of course Etho. I'd never betray you."

Etho looks through his things one last time, then frowns. He turns the basket with his foot. He glances at BDubs, who still watches him from the water's edge. Then he takes a chance and crouches down beside his basket, rifling through with both hands.

"Lose something?" BDubs asks, standing on his tiptoes to get a better look.

Etho looks around, checking first the dock, and then the water beyond. In the deeper water over the side, he sees the flash of a buckle in the dying rays of the sun.

"Oh, huh," BDubs hums disinterestedly. "Guess you'll have to get that."

"BDubs," Etho scowls.

"Fine! Fine. I get it. You don't wanna get wet." BDubs puts up his hands, as though surrendering. "The water really isn't all that bad." He offers Etho a quick little salute. "Be right back."

He takes an exaggerated breath and splashes beneath the dock, stirring up mud and river plants. He breaks the water's surface shortly after, holding up the fallen armor piece triumphantly. "Ta-da! Hold your applause. I know I'm great."

Etho, in spite of himself, chuckles. He shivers again -- the evening is getting cold -- and reaches a hand out. BDubs places the buckle in his hand, then reaches his other hand up to clasp Etho's gently. It's awkward and off-balance, Etho leaning precariously over the side of the dock, and BDubs on his tip-toes, holding him in place. It isn't a hard grasp. At any moment, Etho can take his hand away. He has always been stronger than BDubs.

"Hey, Etho, I really have missed you, man," BDubs says, smiling fondly, his voice soft. It isn't a whisper. It simply isn't loud and brash like he normally is. Heartfelt. The kind of tone that beckons, that wants to be listened to. "I mean-- I've missed us doing things together. It reminds me of the good 'ol days, you know? NHO and Mindcrack. We make a good team."

"We do," Etho agrees. He takes a long, slow breath. He shivers.

He frowns.

Etho pulls his hand out of BDubs, and BDubs offers no resistance. Etho looks down at his hand, at the wrinkled, waterlogged skin. He rubs his thumb across his forefingers, feeling the odd texture, grounding himself on it. Etho takes a deep breath in, lets it out again slowly.

"How long have I been in the water, BDubs?" Etho whispers.

Etho is still holding the belt buckle in one hand, still looking down at the wrinkled fingers of his other. BDubs is still in front of him, only his head and shoulders above the water. Etho looks back over his shoulder. The dock is startlingly far away, the basket sitting on the very edge. Beyond it, his boots and water bucket are sitting in the grass beside rushes and willow branches.

"Does it matter?" BDubs asks, smiling gently.

Etho takes a long, deep breath through his nose.

"Oh, don't be scared," BDubs says, moving silently closer. He reaches out his hands and grasps Etho's arms, a gentle touch, reassuring. A friend trying to assuage fear. His eyes are blazing red and orange with the setting sun, but the sky is black and salted with stars. "I didn't drag you down here, Etho. You came to me, remember?"

"BDubs--"

"You know I'd never betray you," BDubs continues, taking a slow step backwards. He pulls Etho with him, and Etho, by habit and familiarity, takes a step forward. The allure of BDubs' voice tilts his vision. He's on the dock, holding the buckle that fell in the water, and BDubs is clasping his hands, and the sun is setting. The water is up to his chest, and the world is dark star-filled, and BDubs is taking another step backwards, and Etho is following. "I could have betrayed you day one, and I didn't. I'm just asking for your help, Etho. You and me together, right?"

"BDubs--"

"It's the deep water, isn't it?" BDubs croons, like he's speaking to a child. "The deep water scares you? It's okay. You're fine."

Etho is fine. His breathing is slow, his heartbeat even. He wants to be scared. He should be scared. But BDubs is his friend.

BDubs reaches up to Etho's neck, not to strangle or to threaten, but to gently cup his hands around him. He pulls gently on Etho, not to drag Etho down, but to raise himself up, so they're nearly eye to eye. Etho feels water around his shoulders, and shivers.

"It's okay," BDubs says. "I would never hurt you, I promise. We don't have to go any deeper." His voice even and calm, inexorable. Etho's pulse doesn't quicken when he says, "You know how many people drown in shallow water? It's easy. I'll be with you the whole time."

The water is around Etho's neck, and BDubs is above him just slightly. One hand raises slowly to the back of Etho's head, fingers gently tangling in his hair. It is the caress of someone who cares for him deeply, someone who wants him to stay. The feeling is wholly dissonant from the words being spoken. Water? Drowning? How could someone who loves him so much drown him?

"You want to stay with me, right?" BDubs asks. "You and me together, we'd be unstoppable, Etho. The best duo the Life Series has ever seen."

BDub's hand on Etho's neck moves just slightly, the thumb pulling around to rest on his adam's apple. The hand in his hair clenches just a little. A warning. "You're not thinking about betraying me, are you?"

Etho shivers again. He wants to be afraid.

"You know, Grian said some things before he drowned," BDubs's hand on his neck tightened just a little. Etho could feel his pulse against BDub's thumb, finally, finally beginning to quicken. "He said you were a survivor. He said you'd leave me -- heh -- high and dry. You wouldn't do that, would you, Etho?"

Etho's pulse quickened more. There was a cold numbness in his limbs that he hadn't even noticed gathering, and his sluggishly awakening panic pushed it from him.

"BDubs," Etho said, his voice small and hoarse in his throat, "let me go."

"Etho..." BDubs said warningly.

"Let me go!" Etho shouted, planting his hands on BDub's chest and shoving backwards away. What he felt, in that brief second, was neither skin nor flesh, nor the softness of fabric. He felt tangled river weeds, and fish scales, slimy and cold against his skin. The cursed thing that looked like BDubs but wasn't, released Etho spitefully. His claws tore from Etho's neck, scraped along the back of his head to come free with pale strands of his hair. Suddenly there were arms around him, and Etho screamed and thrashed as he was dragged.

"I've got you dude! I've got you!"

It was Skizz, his voice a thunderous bellow in Etho's ear, his arms feverishly hot against him where they clamped like vices around his waist. Skizz dragged Etho from the water like he weighed nothing. Etho got his feet underneath himself and clung to Skizz, staggering out of the water as quick as he could. He heard feet pounding on the dock, and glanced over to watch Tango sprint across the wood. He stooped, grabbed up Etho's basket, and sprinted back with it, the reaching, clawed hand of the thing that looked like BDubs snapping for his ankles and missing.

"I got him!" Skizz shouted to Tango, scrambling onto the grass, refusing to let Etho go until they were well up the path. "Did you see how close he was?!"

"Yeah I saw!" Tango snapped, choking on his own fear, gulping in air and coughing it back out again. "It tried to drag me in!"

"Oh my god, are you okay dude?" Skizz demanded, and, when Tango nodded, he turned back to Etho. "Are you okay? I didn't see you go under. Can you breathe?"

Etho, who had collapsed into the grass the moment Skizz released him, lay there gasping like a hooked fish. He shivered, pale and cold from how long he spent in the water-- how long had he been in the water. He could still feel the thing's burning claws in streaks across his neck, and a tickling of blood at the back of his head.

"Etho?"

"I'm okay," Etho gasped, "I'm sorry I just-- I needed-- I wanted--"

"I know what you wanted!" Tango snapped angrily, the anger of someone who had risked his life. The anger of someone who thought a friend of his was dead, or dying. "But it's not him, Etho."

"It sounds like him," Etho whispered. He threw an arm over his eyes and shivered again. "It sounds like him, though."

"I know it does buddy, I know," Skizz said, his voice full of sympathy and pity. He waited with mountainous patience as Etho pulled himself together, and then helped Etho stand.

Together, they walked back to the fort.

Behind them, something cursed and hungry in the dark water, sang, and its voice was sweet and familiar.

[snaky1ello]

Marytn :DDDD

I drew him again

[autumnwhistles]

Last Life Musical Song!

A song about Martyn @inthelittlewood's initial mindset coming into Last Life, ft Lizzie, Team BEST and Scar! Again, thumbnail by @tubbytarchia (thank you so much) – lyrics under the cut:

MARTYN Right, here we go again — new world, another start. New chance to see who’ll reach the end, and who will fall apart Well, won’t be me – this time I’ll be the very last to fall No care for cost, I’ll lie, double cross to take it all*

Walls, corners, edges, I’ve been this way before. You’ll be cornered in the corners, and on edge in many more; And walls you’ll build and walls you’ll raise(/raze) and walls will fall in war, Kinship destroyed, so keep it a void you’re fighting for.

So corner to corner, I’ll keep wandering on, Border to border, through woods, through caves, through spawn, Sure, laugh with some, don’t keep it glum, so long as lines are drawn Forego the rest, and don’t invest, just keep on wandering (WATCHER CHORUS: wandering, wandering) on.

[short instrumental]

LIZZIE Welcome, oh welcome to my tree fort, yet unnamed

MARTYN Be careful with that name you pick — don’t want it to get flamed!

LIZZIE (spoken: …Ah) They won’t demean* A fellow green... ...Your lives?

MARTYN That’s mine to know Is that a tower over there? See you, I’ve got to go!

[short instrumental]

TEAM BEST BEST will be the best, and we’ll show em what we got With our matching shields, and our towering snow fort

MARTYN Hold on a sec, where’s your respect?

BDUBS/SKIZZ Respect?

MARTYN Yeah, that’s my bit! Same shields? Snow? A world ago? With Ren and- fine, have it

SCAR/BEST/LIZZIE/MARTYN No matter if you're in your sixes or twos/Let's find some ore to- I'll sell you an offer you/-mine cannot refuse/It'll be the fairy fort!

Crystals for fleeing,/I'm fine just to chat Crystals for flame,/Not falling for that! Survival's the

ALL Name of the game!

SCAR/BEST/LIZZIE/MARTYN Corner to corner, I'll just keep on wandering, wandering on/Yes, join the fairy fort, I'd love to have you here!/BEST will be the best, with our diamonds and our gold*

We can build a secret passageway so we'll always be near!/Put us to the test, and you'll see that we won't fold/A crystal or spell, oh, Joel, you'd help me sell?/Through woods, through caves-

-But still for my sake I probably should find a team: it would do me some-/We'll aid each other when we need, together we will succeed, oh-/Put us to the test and you'll see that we'll do-/Goody!* Magical Mountain we'll be!

ALL (including Cleo, BigB and Joel, who are now onstage with their respective alliances) Good – It's this I've understood!*

UPPER WATCHERS/LOWER WATCHERS Oh, wander, wander on/Wonder, wonder On/When they'll all start to turn tails

Wonder, wonder/Wander, wander When trust will yield to betrayals/On

WATCHERS/MARTYN Till the rest are gone.../Right, here I go again – I'll fight with my axe drawn* Oh, wander, little pawn/But, unlike then... I'll lead, not play a pawn

[instrumental; END]

(note: for the chorus where everyone's overlapping, I haven't heard it with words yet (since I can only sing one part at once) – I will pan it, but if some parts get too crowded/chaotic, I may remove one or two parts. On a stage, everyone would be singing in different groups in different areas, in different ranges, so it would be clearer – but that's not something available to ,e)

----

(end of post, just overlapping lyrics in black, to help with potential eyestrain:

SCAR/BEST/LIZZIE/MARTYN No matter if you're in your sixes or twos/Let's find some ore to- I'll sell you an offer you/-mine cannot refuse/It'll be the fairy fort!

Crystals for fleeing,/I'm fine just to chat Crystals for flame,/Not falling for that! Survival's the

ALL Name of the game!

SCAR/BEST/LIZZIE/MARTYN Corner to corner, I'll just keep on wandering, wandering on/Yes, join the fairy fort, I'd love to have you here!/BEST will be the best, with our diamonds and our gold*

We can build a secret passageway so we'll always be near!/Put us to the test, and you'll see that we won't fold/A crystal or spell, oh, Joel, you'd help me sell?/Through woods, through caves-

-But still for my sake I probably should find a team: it would do me some-/We'll aid each other when we need, together we will succeed, oh-/Put us to the test and you'll see that we'll do-/Goody! Magical Mountain we'll be!

[3lsmp]

Inwardly they are ravening wolves.

LAST LIFE WEREWOLF AU - WITHIN ONE HIDES A MONSTER.

[tunastime]

UM UM UM “staying up until midnight to talk” with SEN or DBHC ethubs or docsuma

Or “pull me closer,” with dbhc docsuma :floshed:

Okay skitters away

staying up until midnight to talk (919 words) (x) (:3c)

Etho’s hands follow a practiced rhythm. He isn’t sure how they wouldn’t, with every wire and mechanism and gear in his body perfectly calibrated to move with precision and within expectation. He certainly fails, and jerks, and stutters, and falls, but base programming, movements that fell perfectly into subroutines he couldn’t even begin to trace, even if Xisuma showed him the exact steps? Of course they were perfect. And of course he never faltered.

The sand beneath him offers a much needed cushioning from the hard, winter dirt, despite the fact that the sun provides little warmth to the air around them in the snow fort. The sky is so blue it makes his eyes strain to look at—and maybe it would hurt, if he knew how it was supposed to feel.

Instead, Etho watches patches of sky blue in the silver-warped reflection of his sword, faint flickers of enchantment pulsing out from the hilt where the hastily carved runes sit. He runs the sharpening stone against the blade’s flat edge, careful not to nick the silicon of his fingers as he scrapes it across, again, and again. Practiced, careful, calculated rhythm. So much so that he doesn’t even register the sounds of shuffling a few paces away until Bdubs’ voice cuts through the silence.

“Etho,” he says, voice all rough around the edges like he were hungry for something more than just company. Etho keeps sharpening, just for a moment, before he chances a glance over.

Bdubs leans at the wooden fence, leaning his weight into the flimsily-set posts. He grins like nothing in the world could bother him. The characteristic dark brown of his eyes flickers with red, with that same hunger. Etho hates it. Which is odd. Because he really doesn’t feel strongly about much of anything, and disgust is an emotion very foreign to him, and he’s beginning to think the slight grinding in his chest is a problem Xisuma might need to diagnose when he gets back. It feels wrong. Because he knows he likes Bdubs just fine. He trusts him just enough. But that look.

Bdubs is still watching him, eyeing the sword in his hand with a gaze he can’t place, let alone read. Better give him an answer.

“Bdubs,” he says calmly, tilting his head to the side.

“You thought anymore about my offer?”

Etho makes a sound like a hum, mimicking the sound of turning the idea over in his head. He stands, setting his whetstone next to the cold embers of last night’s fire. The pot and cups still rest in the dirt, as cold as the rest of their surroundings. The sword stays in his hand.

(In the back of his mind, a memory surfaces. In it, Etho lies in the night-damp grass in clothes that still smell a bit like gunpowder, but not enough to notice unless you got real close. Bdubs is somewhere to his immediate left, still speaking, haloed in the glow of lanterns and lights of a shop. One of them at least. Within the clarity of memory, Etho can pinpoint that it’s Tango’s shop. Bdubs doesn’t live far from here. He isn’t sure when waiting for Tango to restock candles turned into tell Etho all about the extra additions to your base and your journey to find all the perfect horses for the Horse Course that you both just wrapped up, or into tell Bdubs all about how empty the mountain is, and how interesting this new game sounds, and how you hope you both find somewhere cool to base. Because you’ve already told him that you’re teaming up. But it does, and in this same space, the sky is full of bright white stars and a sliver of a moon that's starting to peek into the sky. Bdubs yawns.)

“The one from last night?” Etho asks, coming to with the sword heavy in his hand. He pushes the point into the soft sand until it hits hard earth and starts to give.

“You don’t gotta keep this fence, Etho…” Bdubs sighs, leaning his head into his palm. Etho folds his arms across his chest, splays one hand as he shrugs.

“Seems like the best way to settle this, ‘Dubs.”

“You could join me. Could always still join me,” Bdubs tries. “Just a quick one-two stab! Easy!”

“I can’t do that,” Etho says, shaking his head. “You know that.”

Bdubs sighs again, dramatic, deflating over the fence as Etho’s rejection stands firm. The thirium in his chest feels like it’s been flash frozen and has only started to dethaw, cold in his hands and feet, up his shins and to his elbows. He rolls his shoulders in, cupping each hand around each opposite elbow. There’s a little warmth to be found in the action with no fans kicking on to compensate.

“Well,” Bdubs says, drumming on the wooden beam between the two fence posts. “If you ever change your mind.”

He watches Etho for a moment, that familiar look coming to his eyes, as if it were trying to eclipse the haze of red Bdubs looks at him through, as if it were trying to expand his tunnel vision by just a fraction of an inch. Just as Etho notices, it’s snuffed, and the easy, careful look is replaced by an indifference Etho doesn’t think he enjoys. He still isn’t sure how much he knows for certain. He shrugs, barely a movement at all. Better say something.

“I won’t,” he says.

Bdubs huffs and turns away.

[fluxydrawings]

#6 and martyn itlw maybe? :o

But sometimes the truth is just my point of view/ Not what is real and not what is true

Blow My Brains Out - Tikkle Me

traffic martyn ooooooh traffic martyn...

(send me a number + a character (or just a number for dealer’s choice) and i’ll draw somefin based on my spotify wrapped!)

[eyelessfog]

Do me a favour. Burn.

[ID: A digital drawing of Zombiecleo from my steampunk au of last life, where she is human. Cleo is glaring down at the viewer, holding up a match that's blowing in the wind. They're wearing a large trench coat that's brown, as well as an off white shirt and dark pants. The match sends out 5 circles of light, getting dimmer as it gets further away from the flame, and Cleo's colouring gets darker with the lighting. END ID]

[shepscapades]

A last life ethubs comic that isn’t really about last life ethubs

[coolguypluiplup]

have a renchanting doodle from a ll apocalypse au i haven't talked about on here yet :)

i'll post more about it once i've finished the first draft, so expect more of that soon !!!

[mysteriousmoss]

For actor au, just like. Explain the premise to me?

I don't quite understand what you mean by it.

OK OK SO SO

Hermitcraft is a series that’s been going on for awhile in the Actor Au.

Now Hermitcraft in reality doesn’t have much lore but the lore it does have and stuff is what’s acted out. The series is similar to Friends in a way and Young Sheldon(best examples I can think of to a degree.) but also each big event in a season is the main focus for that season.

The life series is canon but it’s a whole ass show. Some Hermitcraft actors are unable to act in it so the stunt doubles(camera account or a Helsmit) take part of it in their place. Nobody was able to tell the difference even after s3 where the hermit actors took on the role of the Traffic SMP character. The stunt doubles are all mostly related to a hermit, example being Tango and his Stunt Double I’ll call Tek(original I know. The guy has no name yet) they are uncle and nephew.

I think I went off topic…ok so basically Hermitcraft and Life Series are tv series that are popular. Hermits and friends star in each one.

Each season has a general theme and most episodes are moments in the hermits lives and hanging together.

I think that’s a good explanation? Honestly came up with this au half asleep

Edit: So ya’ll can ask the actors stuff! It can range from past projects to relationships with cast members or or some drama and see the differences between the characters and actors for some.

[miningroseakira]

SECRET LIFE SPOILERS

YOU'RE TELLING ME THEY MADE A GRAVE AND THE CANARY CURSE WAS BROKEN. YOU'RE TELLING ME THE CANARY CURSE GOT BROKEN AND FIVE SECONDS LATER THERE'S A WARDEN AND A WITHER SPAWNED BY MR WATCHER MAN THAT KILLS JIMMY. YOU ARE TELLING ME RIGHT BEFORE THIS MARTYN WAS BETRAYED BY JIMMY AND CHASED HIM DOWN JUST LIKE IN LAST LIFE. YOU ARE TELLING ME LIZZIE AND JIMMY ARE OUT.

I AM SCREAMING. MY HEAD IS SPINNING. MY HEADCANONS ARE WHIRLING THROUGH MY HEAD. WHAT THE FUCK

[autumnwhistles]

Lyric Breakdown in my Last Life (mainly Martyn-centric) song, "Corners of the World"

'Abridged' version here, and longer analysis (ft. a lot of Martyn character analysis... and also the full lyrics I'm actually talking about) under the cut.

"I'll lie, double cross to best them all" is yet again a reference to a line from Martyn's Last Life teaser poem ("Surpass them all/Take friends for foes"), which was from the perspective of the Watchers (and was previously referenced by them in the first song, Middle of Nowhere). Martyn using this phrasing hints that the Watchers already hold some influence over him, hence the outline of the lyrics flashing purple in the video!

"Walls, corners, edges" is taken from Martyn's speech after Ren's beheading (as is the title of this song, for the same reason):

"You took me in when I was a lowly traveler, going across the land, searching the four corners of this world. I learned there was nothing in this world for me – nothing but walls, corners, edges. And you know what, you showed me life. As much as I’ve taken it from you, you gave it back to me in buckets’ fulls."

The point here is that, after the events of 3rd Life, Martyn's reverted back to that previous worldview. That life he was shown clearly meant something to him, but ultimately, its price was far too high. So now, he's deliberately separating himself from a mindset that would allow him to care too much about others and feel that same pain: the world is walls and edges; the people in it are figures to use for his own benefit, not to care about; the world does not hold those buckets' fulls of life. As we see with his reactions to the Southlands' fall, he doesn't really end up being successful in this (and it's a major topic of exploration throughout the musical) – but it doesn't mean he doesn't want or try to be.

Of course, the wordplay this verse ("You'll be cornered in the corners, and on edge in many more/And walls you'll build and walls you'll raise(/raze), and walls will fall in war") is to establish Martyn's strengths in that area. Getting the voice right is an important part of musical characterisation too!

"Keep it a void you're fighting for" is either dramatic irony or foreshadowing depending on how much you know of his lore. Martyn's only referring to not fighting for anyone else's sake here, but between the seasons the players do spend their time falling through the void (while unconscious) – regardless of whether they win or lose. By fighting to win, you are just fighting for that same void... which of course, Martyn doesn't know (because surely winning means something). If he knew nothing changes after you win, the incentive to win would be much weaker, and I'd argue we do see that in c!Martyn post-Limited Life. But despite his cynicism and distrust, he's still naïve to this particular cruelty of the world... :) i mean lore-wise if you win a fragment of your soul does get protected but 1) no bearing on last life and so on this musical whatsoever, and 2) how is c!martyn supposed to know that even after his win

"Careful with the name you pick/Don't want it to get flamed" is (as the editing hopefully makes clear) a pun – 'you don't want your name to be made fun of', and 'your tree fort is flammable'. This is again meant to establish Martyn's quick wit as well as progressing the song/storyline, and as well as showing us him messing with people, which he very much likes to do! (I am also aware Cleo was the one who informed Lizzie, but I had to streamline various things for the sake of the medium – this is both a Martyn character establishment song and an intro to the world and various figures in it, so it's easier if Martyn is the one who introduces that to those figures (and for us to get more information about Martyn based on how he interacts with them). And Lizzie's reaction to that information was something I wanted to keep in)

Of course Skizz and Etho were in the Red Army too, Martyn's just being cheeky/faking indignation here (if there'd been space, I'd have given Skizz a line of protest, but from a musical standpoint I preferred the instant transition into Scar's section). But guys.... BEST/Dogwarts parallels... guys.....

"(...)I'll lead, not play a pawn"/"(...)little pawn" (sung simultaneously, the first by Martyn and the second by the Watchers) is a callback to the first song, Middle of Nowhere, in which there's a section of randomised lives being given out. The first line there is "Four for the traitor, four for the pawn", and this confirms/establishes 'the pawn' as referring to Martyn (referencing what he's treated as by the Watchers). Note that here Martyn's desire 'to lead' refers to being in control of his actions and not deferring to anyone, not specifically to leading an alliance. Of course, Martyn's part is full of dramatic irony on his behalf :)

Those are the 'flashier' lines and word choices I especially wanted to highlight. Now, for the version with way more character analysis!

As mentioned, Corners of the World is Martyn's – our main character's – introductory song. Regardless of whether it counts as an 'I Want' song or not (it's a bit nebulous, because yes, he does express things he wants – to win, to be in contol of his own actions and not at others' whims. But for me, the more important part of the song is what he doesn't want to do, what things he's distancing himself from that he's presumably done before, and the questions and implications that arise from that. And the core of that is explored slightly later on), it's going to be our first impression of him as a character. The traits and worldview established here will be viewed as important, and will form the basis of his arc throughout the musical.

Because of that, the two verses focus on establishing that inital worldview (as well as establishing what he's aiming for):

MARTYN (Verse 1) Right, here I go again — new world, another start. New chance to see who’ll reach the end, and who will fall apart Well, won’t be me – this time I’ll be the very last to fall No care for cost, I’ll lie, double cross to best them all

So we know he wants to survive and win the game (especially after not doing so last time), we know he's willing to play dirty to achieve that and definitely should not be trusted. We know he's under no impression that this is anything other than a death game (or death match, to quote his Limited Life self) – he doesn't hide from the knowledge that people will fall apart, that only one person will be left standing. Importantly, this means he's playing the game exactly as intended, with no intentions of defying it or even deviating slightly* from what the first song has expressed to be the goal (to 'best'/'surpass' everyone else). Even as he expresses the wish to play for himself, he's already committed himself to following others' unseen rules.

Walls, corners, edges, I’ve been this way before. You’ll be cornered in the corners, and on edge in many more; And walls you’ll build and walls you’ll raise(/raze) and walls will fall in war, Kinship destroyed, so keep it a void you’re fighting for.

And here we get an exploration of Martyn's mindset in more detail. I've touched on this already, but a major point of exploration throughout the musical is Martyn's relashionship to emotional attachment – he's coming right off the bat of Ren's death in 3rd Life, which "broke" him and made him play more selfishly since (both statements taken from the LimLife lore stream), and he is someone who tends keep his distance and who'll prioritise himself over allies whenever things get dicey. But the "life" that closeness gave him back in 3rd Life was still clearly important to that version of him, and he does inadvertently (and unwillingly) start chasing that again this season – ending up growing close to the Southlanders (bar Grian) despite his efforts, enough to hallucinate them and be manipulated by the Voice's(/Watchers') false promise to bring them back to life if he follows its commads (in a moment where he expresses resistance to following its commands, and where the Voice is clearly distressing him). LL Episode 8 intro my beloved...

Still, that's to come. At the start of Last Life, he's firmly in a reactionary mindset to the events of 3rd Life, separating himself from that life and that version of him. 3rd Life was a failure on his part (in addition to the emotional damage, but he's trying to separate himself from that side of things and to focus purely on the win), and he's absolutely not wasting this new chance at victory.

So corner to corner, I’ll keep wandering on, Border to border, through woods, through caves, through spawn, Sure, laugh with some, don’t keep it glum, so long as lines are drawn Forego the rest, and don’t invest, just keep on wandering- WATCHERS Wandering, wandering MARTYN -on.

It's Watcher manipulation time, encouraging unhealthy mindsets that help them further their own aims! The more untied he is, the easier he'll be for them to play (less loyalties to others –> the more likely he is to rely on the Voice, and the less resistance there is to doing certain things that might involve those connections). Yes, emotional connections would mean more emotional pain (and so more negative emotions for them to feed on) in the future, but Martyn's very resistant to that idea right now, so it wouldn't do much to push it. They do encourage emotional connections later, though (heavily pushing him towards Ren for example, and note that that's only once it would mean Martyn betraying his own alliance (which would mean more emotional pain for someone, regardless of its impacts on Martyn himself. Or it would've been if that was revealed)).

There's another important part here, though. After all the 'allies won't help you' etc in the first two verses, I wanted to make clear that Martyn's not against being around people, far from it – he's almost constantly around people, just not generally around the same ones for an extended period of time – it's just the emotional investment he's trying to avoid. He is a very social player, he does enjoy joking and/or messing around with others and does it constantly, that's also an important aspect to him (he's a very "you talk a lot but never say anything" type of person**). So "sure, laugh with some, don't keep it glum" is a very important line!

LIZZIE Welcome, oh welcome to my tree fort, yet unnamed. MARTYN Be careful with that name you pick — don’t want it to get… flamed. LIZZIE …Ah. They won’t demean A fellow green? …Your lives? MARTYN That’s mine to know Is that a tower over there? See you, I’ve got to go!

And immediately, here's an example of Martyn actually messing with someone (as a new player, Lizzie is fun to tease)! His "don't want it to get flamed" triples as that, as a wordplay demonstration, and as another recognition that they are living in a world where people will inevitably turn on each other. If something's flammable, it will be burned.

Lizzie's characterisation here is meant to show her as someone who wants to do her best and is establishing herself, but is unsure/nervous about how the game will unfold due to having had no past experience (, the '...your lives?' comment is prompted by the momentary urge to want to know how close Martyn is to turning Red and potentially burning down her tree fort) There is the element of naïvité coming from not having lived through a previous series, too – not thinking about how badly having a flammable base may end, 'they won't demean a fellow green' again here, etc.

Because this verse is a dialogue, I focused a lot more on trying to keep the character's voices true to themselves as well. With Lizzie, the "Welcome, oh [welcome]" is moreso there to suit the 'fairy queen' persona she was going for, but the "tree fort... yet unnamed" would be something she'd say for humour's sake, in her particular style which I cannot for the life of me describe; her 'ah' would be quite deadpan in that way too (again, not sure which words to use to describe it). With Martyn we have the aforementioned wordplay, but also his method of slipping out of situations that go in directions he wants to avoid... which is to pretend to get distracted by something else, promptly change the subject to that thing, and run off (a clear example of this is in Wild Life when Scott is questioning him about his powers, and he conveniently gets 'distracted' by a zombified Skizz dying in the distance instead (~17:30 in his vid). Maybe not the smoothest of getaways... but a habit nonetheless).

TEAM BEST BEST will be the best, and we’ll show em what we got With our matching shields, and our towering snow fort MARTYN Hold on a sec, where’s your respect? BDUBS Respect? MARTYN Yeah, that’s my bit! Same shields? Snow? A world ago? With Ren and- fine, have it

Again, this verse is largely leaning into character voices and interactions. BEST do initally set out to be the heroes of the server (eg by recovering the enchanting table and returning it to the server), and do have some very loud/enthiusiastic figures within their ranks (Bdubs and Skizz), so the tone of their lyrics is meant to reflect this (though the instrumentation, which we'll talk about in a different post, does a lot of this work as well). Of course you also have Etho who's the complete opposite of course (and Tango somewhere in the middle), but it's the louder voices that are going to be heard in the interactions so it's their side of things I'm portraying. And, as mentioned before, we also have Martyn completely going into mock-offense mode.

SCAR/BEST/LIZZIE/MARTYN No matter if you're in your sixes or twos/Let's find some ore to- I'll sell you an offer you/-mine cannot refuse/It'll be the fairy fort! Crystals for fleeing,/I'm fine just to chat Crystals for flame,/Not falling for that! Survival's the ALL Name of the game!

Pretty self-explanatory here, with Martyn not buying into Scar's deals and other alliances going about their lives. BEST heading down to mine is set-up for the next song (aptly named "Down In The Mines"), in which Bdubs reveals he was cursed with the Boogeyman curse while down there, narrating his experiences in the form of a ghost story.

SCAR/BEST/LIZZIE/MARTYN Corner to corner, I'll just keep on wandering, wandering on/Yes, join the fairy fort, I'd love to have you here!/BEST will be the best, with our diamonds and our gold We can build a secret passageway so we'll always be near!/Put us to the test, and you'll see that we won't fold/A crystal or spell, oh, Joel, you'd help me sell?/Through woods, through caves- -But still for my sake I probably should find a team: it would do me some-/We'll aid each other when we need, together we will succeed, oh-/Put us to the test and you'll see that we'll do-/Goody! Magical Mountain we'll be! ALL (including Cleo, BigB and Joel, who are now onstage with their respective alliances) Good – It's this I've understood!*

Here we see the different players' attitudes to playing the game, and what they've "understood" about how to play it, as well as more alliances forming. Nothing much to say about Scar and Martyn here (aside from Martyn expressing the fact that he does want to be part of an alliance for numbers' sake, which we'll build more on in Song 4 (A(ha)lliances) when the Southlands are formed; and also continuing the thread that he sees others as figures he can use to benefit himself. Maybe there were things to say about Martyn here!), but a lot of Team BEST's part is foreshadowing ("put us to the text and you'll see that we won't fold"... they will fold. They will) in addition to contuining the 'server heroes' thread from earlier. Meanwhile, Lizzie's part continues to show her as a player who hasn't experienced the way the server devolves into bloodshed, still having a pretty idealistic view about the co-operation between herself, BigB and Cleo without thinking about the ways they'll inevitably have to turn on each other if they get later in the game.

The part about the tunnel connecting the Fairy Fort to Cleo and BigB's base is taken directly from the first session (originally proposed as an escape tunnel, in the same conversation that Cleo pointed out that the fort was flammable).

UPPER WATCHERS/LOWER WATCHERS Oh, wander, wander on/Wonder, wonder On/When they'll all start to turn tails Wonder, wonder/Wander, wander When trust will yield to betrayals/On

I've mentioned it before, but the Watchers feed on negative emotions, which is why they run the Life series. This is one of the few times we see emotions from them, as they're very excited to see what chaos and carnage this new game they've formed will bring (which I took care to portray in my voice)!

WATCHERS/MARTYN Till the rest are gone.../Right, here I go again – I'll fight with my axe drawn* Oh, wander, little pawn/But, unlike then... I'll lead, not play a pawn.

I've talked about this in the 'abridged' version, so I won't repeat that. The other thing here is the axe being an obligatory Dogwarts reference (or, more accurately, an obligatory rhyme (with 'pawn') which gave way to a Dogwarts reference I took).

[End]

(You can hear the instrumental continue for a while – ideally, Martyn would talk for a bit with Scott, Pearl and Jimmy, but though I can act through singing I can't act through speech and I'm not subjecting viewers to that xD)

If you've read this, thank you so much! You can definitely chart me going more and more unhinged as this progressed...

--

*eg by also wanting to find friendships, to be helpful while you can, etc, in addition to winning. There's no secondary aim there, aside from protecting himself from emotional harm.

**(to quote Martha from Doctor Who)

[the-art-knight]

Once upon a time, in a world of humans, and monsters there were three brothers. After a long battle between monsters and humans, the humans won and monsters were sealed away.

One day, one of the brothers discovered a human who had fallen into the domain of the monsters.

This is their story.

(Life series x undertale au!

Ren (3rd life) is asgore

Grian (3rd life-Last Life) is toriel

Gem (secret life) is frisk,

Cleo is chara

And Scar is Asriel

[minecraft-cake]

When We Get Home: Main Navigation

A skulk-based minecraft apocalypse au, following the Outlaws Scar and Grian along with various members of the Hermitcraft and Life series servers!

Hello and welcome to my minecraft apocalypse concept! This has been in the works for well over a month or two so far in my personal documents, and I'm happy to finally introduce the first few details. Our first one is a spreadsheet revealing quite a few of the major characters, their infection status, and more! Underneath I'll be explaining the setting and how I've changed up the mechanics of the zombie apocalypse trope just a bit to fit it to minecraft mechanics and my personal taste :].

Status Board:

If there are many changes to this board, it will be updated here! This image may change over time as information is revealed and new chapters come out. For now,

What is the setting?

This is a modern setting, with a minecraft twist! Think of all our modern tech and cities, but with the edition of minecraft mobs and mechanics. Things like government sanctioned hostile mob grinders for citizens to safely gain exp, fully lighted road systems and cities to create safe zones for non pvp oriented citizens, etc. Pretty much everyday normal life but I still want minecraft mobs and items to exist.

What is the "Skulk Virus"?

After the entrance to an ancient ruin was discovered in the outskirts of the capital, a research team was launched to investigate what historians and archaeologists were simply nicknaming “The Deep Dark.”  Not long after the team's investigation and boarding off of the location, outbreaks of a deadly virus began to surface in less fortunate areas of the city, soon spreading terribly from hospitals, slaughterhouses, government sanctioned hostile mob farms, and more. The cause of the outbreak was presumed to be the hostile mob exposure that occurred overnight in the research area due to limited lighting budgets, as the black lichen seems to latch onto life force (mobs, nonhostile or otheriwse) to power a possible hivemind. Despite vaccination and quarantine efforts– the original discovery team going as far as to encase “ground zero”’s entrance in concrete –the spread of death did not cease. Once infected, the “skulk” pathogen quickly overwhelms the brain, using the remaining energy to roam and infect living hosts to spread itself.  The symptoms of contracting the skulk virus itself are most commonly visibly characterized by large, black abrasions and loss of vocal control, along with active decay of the body. It’s theorized that the skulk may distort and/or reconfigure humanoid vocal chords, which is what causes the chittering and racket-y calls usually produced by infected. The virus can also cause minor bioluminescence and hypermobility.  The infected are considered kill-on-sight. The virus controls the body wholly, and any person still conscious will be very unlikely to be autonomous despite vocal claims. It reacts with disturbingly quick instinct, and will rush toward any distinctive indicator of human life. An infected is most dangerous at its earliest stages, as their sense of sight, smell, and taste have not yet deteriorated and the virus has more ways to approximate the location of future host bodies.  

Are there surviving settlements?

There were two main shifts at the start of the end of the world: the prolificacy of death, and the human sense of organization. 

With the outbreak overwhelming major cities and spreading over oceans, Sanctuaries were made out of minor settlements to create safe areas. Usually dictated by some sort of warden, Sanctuaries are walled off communities that vow to be virus-free, safe places to harbor a semi-normal life. They have strict rules, even minor theft or endangerment is not tolerated, and all communities usually fight in groups of four or more. By law, anyone who endangers a Sanctuary is considered Outlawed. They are banned from all Sanctuaries, and their Outlawed status is documented on public forums on a digital record, along with their bounty. While death is not normally encouraged, Outlawed citizens are the exception. Most consider their removal a comfort, whether for revenge, or to deter others from defecting from the Sanctuary, but Outlaws are never kill-on-sight. For anyone hunting an Outlaw, the capture must be returned alive to the Sanctuary they were originally expelled from to face execution. This is to avoid fraud, as payment is usually given in a dedicated flow of supplies and armor to the hunter from any affiliated Sanctuary. 

Outlaw hunters are incredibly rare, and incredibly dangerous to encounter. Many have vowed strongly to protect Sanctuaries, and view anyone outside them as a threat regardless of their legal status. If you are not Outlawed, you are likely to be killed by a hunter to prevent the future endangerment of a Sanctuary. 

Fun Fact: Most of our main characters are Outlawed!

Like I said, this story will heavily follow the adventures of our two main Outlaws, Scar and Grian! It's going to deal with some pretty complicated relationships as well. I'll be taking my time to write these chapters thoughtfully and thoroughly.

We will have long term plotlines with a few of the characters on the board (and some that have been blocked out to avoid major spoilers), so stay tuned! I'd love to answer questions about the au if you guys have any :]. Feel free to check out Scar's Cassette Playlist up on my pinned! It's the music that was left downloaded on his phone when the apocalypse hit and most proper internet connections were severed.