#quiet redstone (surrounded in wool)

[tiredfoxtf]

In my humble opinion, if Mojang decided that the wool blocks the sound for skulk sensor, they should make it that it blocks sounds for players too. Like if you surround, let's say, a nether portal in wool, it won't make a sound and won't show up in subtitles for players outside the woll case. No idea how the fuck would they code that, but would be fun.

[redstone-sun]

A Quiet Dawn

It’s here! It’s finally here! Fluff, a conclusion, call it what you will, but I’ve finally finished something TRSNS related. This takes place several months after the end of TRSNS, after Mumbo has left his temporary house. It’s not that long and I didn’t edit it too hard, but I hope y’all like it!

             Mumbo was coping. He was grateful every day for his freedom, for the ability to wake up alone and see the sky above him, to move about as he wished, to work on whatever project he desired or just sit around and do nothing. There were reminders, of course. A circuit would pull up memories of a machine. Lava would hiss and screams would echo in his head. The touch of redstone could be blazing hot.

             However, the nightmares at least had quieted down considerably. The constant pull of red light in his mind was mostly memory. He had free reign of the island with few limitations and didn’t have to have guards with him wherever he went. Grian and Iskall still thought it was a good idea for him to tell people where he was going if he wouldn’t be around, but it was more of a suggestion. They trusted him, and he was grateful for it.

             Mumbo hadn’t on going back to the box. He hadn’t told anyone where he was going, which wasn’t the best of ideas, but it had been weeks since his last setback. Flying had become one of the few ways he could clear his head these days so he did it often, even just circles around his base. But today, today was different.

             He hadn’t even noticed where he was going until the black box peeked its sharp silhouette over the horizon. The sight of it brought back such a flood of memories that he gasped, nearly losing his rhythm as he flew, but he managed to right himself and make it the rest of the way to the box.

             The roof was as smooth as the day it was built, save for the hopper that mail went into and the chute that was the only entrance and exit to the box.

             Mumbo didn’t enter the box. He knew what it would look like, how it would smell, where every strand of wool touched another in the carpet, every impurity in the obsidian. He had no need to see it again. Instead he took off his elytra and placed it on the black stone next to him before lying down on his back, staring at the sky.

             It was late evening and the air was still. The only sound was Mumbo’s heartbeat in his chest and the hiss of his breath. Though he had spent so much time alone in the box, this sort of peacefulness was blissful to him.

             The sky darkened slowly, and he watched it progress from blue, to orange, to purple, to black. Pinpricks of stars had just begun to appear when a rush of noise scared him upright.

             “Sorry,” Grian said, for it was Grian who had just landed next to him on the roof of the box. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

             “It’s fine,” Mumbo said, grinning and patting the stone next to him. “Care to join me?”

Grian wiggled his elytra and rocket sling off, laying down next to Mumbo on the stone with a sigh. “It’s so quiet up here,’ he said softly, and Mumbo nodded. The two sat in silence for a few minutes watching the stars, before another harsh noise caused both of them to sit up. It was Iskall. He waved at the pair of them, not surprised that either of them was there. He shrugged off his elytra and laid between them without any signs or writing in his book.

The three of them lay on top of the cold, dark stone, staring up at the quiet night. Their hearts beat in tandem, and more words passed between them in the silence than could ever be written. They breathed in unison, hardly moving a muscle as the world moved around them. The sky stretched out from edge to edge, and none of them could see where the stars ended. Their own infinity. Mumbo felt like he could reach up and touch one of the tiny lights, run his finger over the holes in the sky, but he didn’t want to disturb them.

It could have been a few minutes, or an eternity, but the sun finally started to shine over the horizon. Mumbo sat up first and stretched, reaching for his elytra, but Iskall pulled him back. “Here,” he whispered, voice low and gravelly, and handed Mumbo a diamond pick.

Mumbo looked at the pickaxe, confused for a moment, before understanding dawned. “Now? But—but what if—”

Iskall shook his head, not allowing Mumbo to finish. “Now,” he said quietly, and Grian nodded his agreement.

“You’re ready, Mumbo. If I could help I would,” Grian said softly, and Mumbo was grateful that neither of them had truly shattered the silence of the night yet.

Iskall nodded to the box and pulled out his own pick, waiting.

Mumbo stared down at the dark stone. This box had been his home for so many months, but it had also been his prison.

He took a deep breath and began chipping away at the obsidian, the cracking noise harsh in his ears. Iskall joined him wordlessly, and Grian kicked pieces over the edge as they broke.

The first few layers were easy enough. Mumbo and Iskall fell into a rhythm, dodging Grian and strategically taking out each black block of stone. That was before they reached the room.

Iskall broke through the ceiling first, jumping down into the room and helping Grian down after him. Mumbo stared through the small hole at the white carpet, the bed, the chest, and suddenly he couldn’t breathe. Red light crept into his mind, terrible and familiar, and he froze up.

Grian moved directly beneath the hole, staring worriedly up at him. “It’s okay, Mumbo,” he called. “Take your time. You’re free now. You can leave if you come in.”

Mumbo looked up to the brightening sky, trying to calm his racing heart. Slowly, he took in a shuddering breath and looked back down into the room. Closing his eyes, he lowered himself down through the hole, nearly jumping out of his skin as Iskall’s arms encircled his waist to support him. He gasped as his feet touched the floor, heart leaping to his throat, but already the panic was fading. Iskall had already been tearing up a lot of the carpet and taken the iron door down, along with some of the surrounding obsidian. Just that fact already made him feel more comfortable. The room barely looked like the place he’d whiled away so many months.

He moved to the wall that had the window, beginning to break the obsidian around it. Grian lay stretched out on the bed, staring at the ceiling, and the pose was so familiar it almost gave Mumbo pause, but he kept working. Iskall was taking out the ceiling and fresh morning light flooded in to the box.

What I would have given for that… Mumbo thought, remembering the times not knowing if it was night or day and missing the feeling of wind and real sunlight on his skin. A breeze tickled his hair and the corners of his mouth lifted slightly. Iskall had already started on the doorway.

Mumbo continued at his task, and he found that he could feel almost happy with what he was doing. How often had he wished to do this very thing? To break down these walls and free himself? Of course, it had been thought in different contexts, but this one was the best. His freedom. His true freedom.

             “How did you survive for so long like this, Mumbo?” Grian asked suddenly. “There’s nothing to do in here. It’s silent and you were trying to get away from something in your own head. How on earth did you do it?”

             Mumbo smiled softly. “I had Iskall. And you.” And Pablo.

             Grian sat up, bracing himself against the remaining wall. “You’ve come so far, you know that?” he said, grinning, and Mumbo laughed.

             “I sure hope I have,” he said.

             Iskall finally took down the whole corridor, returning to what remained of the room. He motioned for Grian to get up and broke the bed beneath him, scooping it up. Mumbo hurriedly started on the floor, unsure of how many blocks deep it was. With both him and Iskall working together, both now wearing their elytra, they made it down to the last layer. Grian jumped off and glided around, circling them. Last row. Mumbo’s lungs were filled with the blue sky above him. Last block.

             Iskall leapt off then, motioning for Mumbo to break the last chunk of obsidian. The final remnant of the box. Mumbo checked that his elytra was on and that he could readily access rockets.

             Mumbo broke the block, the dark shards falling to earth. The wind lifted him into the air, and he was laughing, and so were Grian and Iskall, and he was weightless, he was flying, he was safe, he was truly free.

[windfighter]

aslkgöhald I’m at 6840 words already:

Day 8

There are a lot of the green creatures around. I put torches on the roof, place the last pieces of wood and then jump back down to the ground. Landing is painful, but I don't have time for pain. I grit my teeth, go inside and put a crafting table and a big chest inside the house. There's not more I can do for it at this point. I make a door out of six planks and put it in the entrance. Now I can keep the creatures out. The room is pitch black and I put a couple of torches on the walls.

I make a furnace to put in the house as well, but I need to leave the house to get the materials for that. Two of the creatures spot me as I make my way back but I get inside before they get to me. I can hear them groaning outside my door and I don't know what to do now. Part of me thinks that maybe I should make an escape hatch from the house to the mine, but I ignore that idea. Instead I head outside, determined to figure out the creature. I have a shield in one hand and a sword in the other. It tries to bite me and I swing my sword wildly at it. Some of the swings hit and after a minute the zombie disappears with a poof.

Another zombie approaches, but the sun has come out now. The zombie burns, and I decide to help ease its suffering with my sword. I feel like I can take on the world right now!

I know it's just the adrenaline and I get back to work. Today is the day I'll get some animals to the base. As I head back down I feel something wet in my pocket. It stinks as I pull it out. Rotten flesh. I make another chest to store that so it won't rot the rest of my items.

I harvest some extra wheat and then I'm off. There seems to be less cows here now, but as I try to wrangle them up I spot something white moving on top of a hill. A sheep, and they seems to be attracted to the wheat as well. I manage to bring three sheep and two cows with me back. I feed them, and a calf and a lamb appears in the pen. This has been a good day.

The sun is in zenith and I spend the afternoon gathering fish from the river. I need to start preparing to head out of here, to look for a village or something. I hit the gravel by mistake and a piece of flint falls out of it. This could get in handy, I could make arrows with it, or use it to start fires if I hit it against a rock or... or iron. I run back into my mine to grab a piece of iron in order to make a firestarter.

I make a chestplate and some boots out of the remaining iron. I feel a bit safer now, maybe even ready to fight the hostile creatures I keep seeing around. But I need more iron before I head out, so I can make new tools as the old one breaks. I head further into the mine, stop by the lava cave I found earlier. It's not lava any longer, I turned it all into the hard black material, but I still think of it as the lava cave. I stare at the redstone dust spread out on the floor. Maybe that is flammable? I take out my flint and steel and try to set fire to it.

It doesn't work, but as I start and extinguishes fires around the room a purple light suddenly lights up in the rectangle I built earlier for the laughs. It makes a loud noise and I back away. Is it dangerous? I can't tell by looking at it. I sneak closer. It wooshes again. I take a step back, then walk up to it. Energy pulses through it and I decide that the time for cowardness is over and step into it.

Day 9

I don't know where I am. Everything is red here and it's a lot hotter than it was before. There is no life around me, only walls of the red material. I look up. Lava is falling from the ceiling and I run out of the way. It's everywhere around me, covering the portal that brought me here. I'm scared. I don't know what to do. I regret going in here but I need to stop the lava somehow, need to be able to head back.

I try to get higher, but there are sounds of creatures here. I don't know if they are friendly but if it's anything like the other side of the portal they are not. I head back down, try to block off the lava. I manage and head straight back home.

It's almost morning already. Some of my trees have grown during the night. I'm relieved to be back to safety but I'm curious about that other world. Someday when I'm more prepared I hope to explore that. I make another chest because my storage is getting crowded. I won't be able to bring all of the items I've found when I leave but I'll figure it out.

I head out, chop down the grown trees. Wood will probably be useful when it's time to start exploring this world more. I look towards the animals I captured and I wonder if maybe I could make some type of scissors to cut the sheep. I think I still have a little iron left, I hope it's enough.

The green creatures notices me while I shear the sheep. They come closer and I don't want them injuring my animals, but they are blocking the fence gate so I break the fence and run away. Some of the animals are escaping but the green creature is following me, it doesn't seem hostile against the animals. Maybe it feels my fear. I grab my shield, cover behind it as the creature starts hissing.

It explodes, but the shield mostly protect me from the blast. I hurry after the other, which also explodes, before I fetch some wheat to lure the animals back in to the pen. This has not been a good day so far.

I did get some wool though and it's soft in my hands. I could make a bed using this and I grab some planks to get to work. It doesn't take long until I have two beds made. I place one in the small house and the other I stove deep into my pockets. It'll be useful when I finally head out of here.

There's not much more for me to do with this little base. It has a house, some animals and a small patch with wheat and sugarcane growing. All I really need is iron for tools and I head down in the mine, decide that I'll finally get some more material.

I find some coal and some redstone dust before I break some stone and lava starts pouring out of the hole. I try to block it off, but I miss and the lava reaches me. I'm burning, and it hurts, it hurts so badly. I manage to block the lava off and run back, try to put the fire out by jumping up and down as I run. I feel weaker, but just when my body starts wobbling the fire dies out. I'm trembling, and to busy my hands I eat one of the fish I've cooked. I can feel my strenght returning as I eat it. This branch is done now, time to start another one. But first I head up to drop off the redstone dust I found and make some new torches.

It's still day but the sun is creeping lower towards the horizon. I head back down. There's so much I should do.

Day 10

I find some iron in the mine. I also find a lot of redstone dust and I try to find a way to store it better. By pressing a lot of it together I manage to form cubes which takes less place than the dust. I'm satisfied with this. The sun is up and I'm wondering if I'm ready to head out already. I've already decided to go towards the savannah, but I still don't know what to bring. I think today I will prepare my departure.

I gather up all the wood and redstone from my storage, shear the sheep and put the wool in my pockets. Fetch the iron from the furnace and craft myself a pair of pants. I still have 19 pieces left and I decide that 19 pieces will have to be enough. I make some fences which I can use to mark the way I walk. There's not much more to do. I harvest the sugarcane, shear the sheep again and decide to spend this last night in my house, finally using the bed I made.

The sun goes down and I lay down to sleep.

Day 11

A new day and a new adventure! I leave my house, close the door behind me. The animals have food, the grass grows quickly around here, and the fence will keep them safe from the hostile creatures. I wave goodbye and then I head north from here.

I don't have any specific place to go, but I spot a waterfall and decide to head towards that. It's better than nothing. I need to cross two rivers to get to the savannah, but once I'm there I quickly dry in the sun. It's hotter here than where my base was, the air is drier. I spot animals – pigs, cows and sheep – and decide to get some extra food. It's midday and I haven't gotten far from my base but I already can't see it in the distance. I have placed fences with torches on top every few meters so I can find my way back again should I ever want to. And if someone come there looking for me they can follow the lights to find me.

I don't think anyone's looking for me, I can't think of anyone who would. I can't think of anyone overall, I have no memories of people, I have no memories of the time before I woke up here. Was I just created there, on the shore? But I feel like I have existed longer than these 10 days. I shake my head and continue walking.

I'm almost at the waterfall when the sun starts setting. It's a small mountain and I'm not sure if I should head up it or follow the river below it. I place a bed on the ground and decide to sleep on it. The savannah is quiet around me and I fall asleep instantly.

Day 12

I wake up with the sun. I've decided to go up the mountain (although it's more like a hill). I cross the river, carve a path in the stone and build a staircase for easier access. It takes time and it's already midday when I make it up there. I'm surrounded by mountains taller than the hill I'm currently in. I can see a swamp to the east but swamps are wet and sticky and I don't want to get sticky water in my boots. One of the mountains is weirdly shaped, the top of it seems to float in the air. The savannah continues along the side of that mountain and I head in that direction.

I chop down a couple of trees as I go, to make it easier to spot the fences I place down. The savannah before me looks broken, shattered, and I wonder what tragedy has caused it. Maybe the creature in the forest I couldn't see had something to do with it. I take a deep breath. I'm not going to let a shadow scare me from continuing.

I make another stair leading down from the mountains. It takes the whole afternoon and I craft a new bed, make another camp. The hard work has left me exhausted and I promptly fall asleep. Tomorrow I have to cross another river to continue my path.

Day 13

I spy with my little eye, something beginning with.... l.

I cross the river. There's a rock in the middle of it and I put another road marker there. Once on the shore again I spot lava flowing down one of the mountains. This place is terrifying and mesmerizing. I continue walking, because that's all I have to do now. I find a lake under the floating mountain. I wonder what magic is keeping this place from falling apart. Towards the west there's an area that looks like a desert and towards north is mountains, more of the shattered savannah. I have to stop, even though I've barely made any ground today. Neither direction looks promising but I have to make a decision.

I decide on the desert. I build myself a boat and cross the lake. The sand is coarse and gets everywhere. Definately a desert. I almost fall into a cave but run back outside before anything in there can see me. Once I manage to make my way up the sandy hill I spy with my little eye even more lava. The sun is already starting to set, time passes in no time as I make my way through the world. I put down a crafting table, make a new bed and settle in for the night.

Day 14

There's a sandmountain close to the lavapool and I decide to climb it. I'm almost at the top when I hear something. I look around and see a pitch black figure with white eyes down on the ground. It disappears before my eyes and reappears on top of the mountain. It doesn't look like it's trying to harm me, but I feel wary of its presence. I keep moving up the mountain, careful not to look at it too much.

At the top I take a moment to look around. There's more savannah, some plains, more desert. And a building!

Buildings mean PEOPLE! I'm saved!

...it's not like I'm actually in trouble, but maybe someone there will know who I am, will be able to tell me where I came from and where I should go. I climb down and rush over there.

I reach the building, and it's buried, abandoned a long time ago. Something breaks inside of me and I decide to stay here for the moment, rethink my plans. I dig in the sand to find some way to enter it. I can't find the entrance but there is an opening in the ceiling and I drop myself down from there. I can explore the building now. It looks intact from the inside, a safe place to spend the night. I light it up, find several exits and then dig down.

There's a huge hole under the building, with four chests. There's items left in there by whoever lived here before. I hear zombies and I wonder if it's the people who lived here before the place got buried. I gather the stuff, put them in a chest in what appears to be the building's main room. They'll be easier for me to retrieve from there if I survive in this world.

It's night outside now. I place a bed and go to sleep.

Day 15

The desert is quiet when I wake up. I climb outside to look at my surroundings. There's one of the tall black creatures in the grass just a short distance from the building. There's also some cows but I have all the food I need for the moment. Some of the food is raw and I should probably cook it. Today I'm taking a break from exploring, I'll just cook up the food and open up this building a little.

I keep looking around in order to decide where to go when I continue. The plain continues on for a while, but I can see the savannah and a swamp on the other side of it. There's something very orange on the side of another mountain (wow, there's a lot of mountains around here) and I decide that I'm going to head that way tomorrow. For now I return into the building.

I run low on coal while cooking the food. I might have to stop somewhere later and burn some charcoal from my wood. It's not much of a problem, but I also don't have a lot of stone left at the moment.

I spend the rest of the day relaxing, exploring the area around the building and gathering sticks from the dead bushes nearby. The sun sets as I make more fences and I roll up in the bed to sleep.

[lunaraen]

“I am a disaster and I have a sneaking suspicion that I always will be.” with Magnus (with Gabriel or Ellegaard, I guess??)

Madness knows no bounds.

That’s a good general rule ofthumb, when dealing with anybody who’s got more supplies than most people knowwhat to do with and just as many ideas, especially when said supplies can doconsiderable damage when used incorrectly and can do even more when used right.

Loathe as Ellegaard may be toadmit it, some days, personal experience has taught her that inventors, herselfmaybe especially, can be just as mad as griefers. It isn’t so much a case ofdifferent degrees of craziness as it is fields.

The distinction’s not asimportant as she sometimes likes to make it.

(This is, after all, coming from someone on her hands and knees tinkering with a system of shrill, stubbornpistons that’s far more complex than it needs to be, wearing coveralls coveredin grease and redstone, just because she can and because rain always puts herin a more experimental mood.)

And Ellegaard has considerable…experience with Magnus and his brandof insanity. On the better days she’ll call it the learning kind, and on theworse ones she’ll say it’s an occupational hazard.

No matter how she wants to lookat it, though, there’s no changing that he’s very much a part of her regularschedule. The other Order members are too, of course, but usually she doesn’thave to wonder about whether or not they’re plotting to blow up her inventions,unless Gabriel’s messing around with Magnus and Magnus is still there in thosesituations too, usually as the bad influence/inspiration.

That means few things are new,even if she still has to wonder what he’ll try to throw at her again.

But even if it isn’t new, whenMagnus enters the room even more quietly than most normal people, the click ofthe door quiet but not as quiet as it would be if he was trying to be sneaky,it’s different in all the little ways that are downright unsettling. Like thelack of any comment as he walks by her, not even nudging any of her tools asideas he does just to mess with her, before sitting on one of the crates ofredstone she finished filling that morning, sparkling splotches of leftover,dusty red dotting the sides and lining the top.

Maybe she wasn’t expecting himback for a while, given that it’s also not uncommon for Magnus to just wanderaround for a few days. It’s not quite the training they need to beat a dragon,but he always shows up and does his best for that too, and who’s she to arguewith self-care?

Except whatever care he trieddoesn’t seem to have worked this time, even for his usual.

He looks like he feels every bitlike the drizzle outside, and as much as Ellegaard enjoys listening to thesteady drum of raindrops against the window, it’s unnerving to see Magnus lookingevery bit soaked to the bone, like it actually bothers him.

He’s done this before, walked orlimped back in after going out for a few hours, either covered in soot and ashor still smoking most times, but he’s always laughing when he first gets back,or snickering, or just smirking and looking far too proud of himself andwhatever chaos he wreaked. All being sopping wet has ever done before is madesure he can’t still be smoking while he cackles about whatever he just pulledoff.

So it’s, maybe, a littleconcerning, just a bit, when he trudges in, dripping and still managing to looklike he’s rolled around in a fire pit, as well as frowning.

In fact, it’s not even a goodfrown. Notch knows they’ve all seen better scowls from Soren, when he’s mad athis builds, or Ellegaard herself, when her machines are being… less thancooperative.

(Machines and people alike tendto be far more cooperative when a good wrench and a few threats get involved.)

Ellegaard knows Magnus can do abetter frown, even on his worse days, but it seems he’s forgotten that. Atleast, it makes him look all the more pitiful, something he’s never been fondof being. The mere idea of being seen as pathetic is usually enough to get himroaring with laughter again.

Yet there he sits.

Pouting.

In Ellegaard’s experience, theonly thing worse than a scheming griefer is a pouting one.

(Which means it’s really in thebest interest of her inventions, not to mention her already questionablesanity, that she shut this down as soon as possible, before Magnus doessomething they all regret, and it works just as well as motivation as it doesan alibi.)

So she doesn’t even bother withthe melodramatic sigh as she gets to her feet, picking up one of the rags byher feet as she does to wipe off, or at least smear around, the excess oil andredstone clinging to her gloves.

And he doesn’t even look up ather.

“What’s wrong?”

With him still not looking at heras he responds, she’d be happier about writing it off as a mood if there wassome sort of genuine emotion behind the grumble. The problem? There isn’t.

“Nothing’s wrong. Leave mealone.”

She almost considers leaving himto it, but this is actually concerning.

Besides that, few things make foras obvious a cry for help as limping back to her lab while she’s busyinventing, something only Magnus ever dares to interrupt anyway, to sit like akicked puppy.

Ivor’s always been better athelping people with emotions, and they both know it.

“You’re moping.” Shesighs as she lifts her goggles, letting them rest on her forehead as shecrosses her arms, the spotty rag dangling from her hand as she resists the urgeto frown herself. The red tint of her goggles, as it turns out, wasn’t doing asmuch to make him look miserable as she thought they were. In fact, the lack ofcolor might just be making him look drearier. “What’s wrong?”

And oh Notch, he actually takes amoment to respond, and the heavy sigh that precedes it is almost just as bad.

“I am a disaster and I havea sneaking suspicion that I always will be.”

Ellegaard also knows tired whenshe hears it. There’s nothing bitter in the words, far more precise than heever normally bothers making them, and what sounds like exhausted acceptance isfar worse than any grumbling.

“That bad?” He doesn’teven glance up at her, mouth twisted into a thin line that looks whollyunnatural on him. Whatever humor Ellegaard was trying for drops, her shouldersslumping a bit even as she raises an eyebrow. “Notch, you’re serious. Whathappened?”

“…you know that fire theyjust had down in Mauragon?”

“The mining village at thebase of the mountain? What about it–” News travels quickly between thevarious small villages surrounding the temple, but there wasn’t much to saywhen it was apparently taken care of so quickly and with no reported injuries.Ellegaard had thought it had just been some lightning, given their currentweather, but now… well, it clicks, and maybe it shouldn’t as easily as itdoes, but that doesn’t change how fast everything snaps together.“…oh.”

For a moment, the storm outsidesounds impossibly louder.

“Yeah. Oh.” Magnus’selbows are on top of his knees as he hunches over, fingers barely touching theedge of his mask as he holds his head up. “I just wanted to buy some TNT,but there was a stack of them on display, and I was lighting a cig when I tripped.”

At least it explains a lot.

“You… tripped.” Shedoesn’t say anything to let him know how easy it is to believe and how hard atthe same time, Magnus’s luck and his usual agility apparently once again atodds, but she’s sure her tone takes care of that for her. And, of course, ifsaid luck is playing into things the way it normally does… “Right by thedisplay?”

He’s alive, which is more thanmost people would be if they’d been in the same situation, and it’s the farkinder side of his luck.

(Not that she’s ever one todiscount ability, and she knows Magnus has plenty, for better or worse. It’sjust as much his experiences coming into play, and she doesn’t doubt he gothimself as safe as he could as quickly as he could, given the few seconds he hadto react. He’s still standing, and not just a pile of burned parts and ash, sothere’s not really any other possibilities)

The sharper side absolutelyexplains why he looks like he set himself on fire, though.

“Yup. Turns out a lot of theshop was made of wool. Cheaper that way.” She doesn’t snicker, the way shewants to for a second as the mental image completes itself, but she does wince.That sounds about right, given how these things tend to go and how… Magnus he tends to be during them.“Nobody got hurt or nothing, but… it was close. Not allowed back.”

Nobody got hurt, he says,re-lighting a cigarette that looks less burned out than he does, and Ellegaardhas to resist rolling her eyes.

“In the shop?”

“In Mauragon.”

Well then.

That explains the brooding aboutit.

Brooding, by the by, is anotherword for trying to bottle up emotions, failing, and pouting about it, with anoptional existential crisis or two. Ellegaard would know, she’s done plenty ofit herself.

“…I thought we were tryingto be heroes to protect people.” She uses the cautious, observational toneusually reserved for machines that seem to be ready to jump the line tomalfunctioning but haven’t yet. There’s supposed to be some humor there, butshe gets the feeling it falls dead on its feet anyhow. “Not ruin theirstock and blow up stores.”

“I know.” He groans,rubbing at his temples as he does. “I was going to pay for the stuff andeverything too. You try being apyromaniac and not cause trouble everywhere you go.”

“Did you help fix thedamage?”

There’s a pause.

“Yeah.”

That’s that. He screwed up, fixedthings up, and was banned from someplace else.

Which leaves her with taking careof the existential crises. Honestly, it may be something of her specialty atthis point, at least when it comes to Magnus. And she does have some things she’d like to take care of, Ellegaard musesas she glances at the still greasy, still squeaking pistons.

“…you know what I think always cheers you up?”

And he glances up at her, lipstwitching up in what actually looks like a smile.

It looks like the world won’t beending today, then.

Good. She still has far too manyinventions she needs to get to before that can happen.

“Blowing random crap up inthe desert?”

There’s an art, a science, too,to how long a pause should be held, for dramatics sake if nothing else. There’ssomething to be said for presentation.

Ellegaard waits one moment, andthen another, before nodding.

“Blowing random crap up inthe desert.” It’s likely just her imagination, the way her functioningmachines seem to hum in agreement. “And guess who has a few failedinventions that need to be taken care of?”

And the smile twists into theeven more familiar grin and he looks so much more like the Magnus she knows.

“You’re the best,Ellie.”

It’s easier to grin back when theknot in her chest loosens.

“I know.”

Because there’s somethinginherently insane in being a griefer, and something just as mad in being anengineer. There’s the constant danger, the constant toeing the line, the geniusthat could just as easily be called lunacy.

And there’s something to be said,for knowing that and still combining those kinds of insanity, and the easiestthing to call it is fun.

[redstone-sun]

TRSNS: Angst Ending

[redstone-sun]

TRSNS: Sad Ending