#should i tag this as skizz too? he's in the scene but not. not the art..

[flebdoodle]

World's End

I still can't get over this fic AKA, Echoes back at it again Quote and close-ups under the cut :]

"...And we… we had stars. Sort of. A billion Overworld servers, so far away they might as well have been stars. And then, at the end of the year, they would fall behind the edge of the universe. World’s End.” A long moment passes. “Okay,” Skizz says. “You can’t just say things like that and not explain. Fall behind the edge of the universe?” “Sort of like an eclipse,” you say. “Bigger than any server or star or planet, though. It would blot out the whole sky, and we’d light every candle and lantern, string them from every surface until it looked like the islands themselves were the stars.” You have to stop and try to clear the lump from your throat, though it seems the ability to swallow has suddenly escaped you. “I could see Helleath all the way from Lioneth on World’s End.”

^This building, the one I'm pointing directly at, is what I was thinking to be Helleath :D

[lechairpourriedegrianri]

Untitled Shulker Box Fic!

I said that I’d tag you in this so @redwinterrises

Words: 1728

Description: Seven scenes of Grian contemplating his partnership with Scar

Warnings: Descriptions of blood, injuries, and violence

Though Grian hoped his partnership with Scar would end well, deep down he knew that things could only turn out badly. Case in point, the tree issue. “If we made an iron farm, do you think we could get enough iron shovels to dig up the desert,” Scar deliberated, deep in whatever constituted thought for him as they moved towards the desert.

“I keep telling you, trying to dig up the desert is a waste of time. If we get the dark oak forest then we’ll have a monopoly. How are we even going to make an iron farm? There’s like three villagers and Impulse has them all.”

“We're smart guys! We can think of some-OH! There’s a bee over there.” Scar bounded off on a detour and Grian gritted his teeth. Scar was great, but when he was taking such a lackadaisical approach to things. having to follow his orders was unbearable. He couldn’t wait to die the first time so he could get away. Scar ran back up, “Had to kill the bee; so you think we could just steal everyone’s iron and diamonds and stuff to make shovels?”

Feeling something in him tense, Grian turned to Scar and did his best to feign calmness and control, “Scar, where on the server can you find sand?”

“The desert, obviously, the bottom of lakes and the river, and the beaches too I guess.”

“And where can you find dark oak?”

“Just the one forest but-” he trailed off when he saw the piercing stare Grian was giving him, “Okay. Forest it is.”

——

Grian stood on the edge of the sand dune, sun beating down on him as he watched Scar and Etho haggle over shoes. “Those are awfully nice shoes, Etho. Surely they’re worth some good reputation.”

Grian sighed, sick of watching Scar scam people for worthless garbage, “Don’t take him up, Etho. He’s cheating you.”

“No I’m not. You’ll get fifty whole reputation points, Etho.”

“What even are reputation points?”

“I’ll take it,” Etho kicked his shoes off and took the scrap of paper from Scar, making Grian groan in frustration.

After happily waving Etho off, Scar turned to Grian. The way the sun glinted off his scar from the creeper explosion still made it look like it was fresh and bleeding red. “Don’t interrupt my dealings,” he muttered, the shadows turning his skin a twisted grey. Grian nodded, having no intentions of doing what he was told.

——

“How do you make a tnt trap?” Back home the question would have been completely innocuous, but here, with his torn pants exposing the deep gashes on his legs from the fall, highlighted on his dead-looking skin, Scar’s words gave Grian cause for concern.

“Where are you going to use it?”

His eyes glowing with malice, Scar clenched his fist, “Dogwarts is going to pay. I’ll use the enchanter as bait and wipe them out in one quick blast.”

Immediately, images of Scar blowing himself to pieces rolled through Grian’s head. As nice as that would have been earlier, now….it was too dangerous. He had no idea which one of the others he could trust, and which could trust him. Love him or hate him, at least Scar was loyal to him. As much as he didn’t want to, Grian placed down a chest, “Give me the tnt you got.”

“Um, sure.” Scar tentatively dumped the tnt in the chest, as well as a spattering of minecart, observers, and pistons. “Are you building the trap or are you just taking this away from me?”

“I’ll….I’ll build it,” Grian shook his head, “It’s preferable to having you build it.”

“Good,” Scar placed a hand on Grian’s shoulder. It was rough, less a friendly gesture and more holding his lackey in place. “I’m glad you’re finally listening to me for once.”

——

Smoke billowed from the gates of Dogwarts, and Grian laughed. Jimmy had been stupid enough to nudge the tnt while the were disarming Grian’s trap, and and he, Skizz, and Ren himself had been turned into an ashy crater. Just the thought of it made Grian turn from giggled to unrestrained, ridiculous laughter. Scar and Ren grappled on the edge of the hill, and with a sickly crack Scar slugged Ren in the face, sending him toppling over the edge and letting him hit the ground with a thud.

Blood trickling from his forehead and a nasty scrape across his arm, Ren bellowed furiously, “You’ll pay for this, desert fiend!” before limping back to Dogwarts. Scar scampered away as well, likely to recoup in the desert. Feeling giddy, Grian turned to follow him, but Martyn grabbed him by the wrist.

“Grian, wait. I need to ask you something.”

“What is it?” Grian glanced back at Martyn, who was a mix of worried and hopeful.

“Big B and I were talking and…as the Blue Sword Boys we think we should try to rescue you from Scar. We’re going to ask Skizz to kill you so that you can get out of your deal without suspicion.”

Something in Grian churned, and a frown curled over his face, “What makes you think I want out of my deal?”

Martyn tightened his grip, “What are you talking about?”

“Right now Scar trusts me completely, and I’d rather have the most powerful wild card on the server in my palm than at my throat. So,” he broke free of Martyn’s grasp and drew his sword, “That’s,” he slashed his sword across his opponent’s knuckles, leaving a thin trail of blood, “A no.” A boot to the stomach sent Martyn tumbling backwards, and Grian ran.

——

Grian and Scar sat on a hill at a safe distance from the Crastle, deep in thought as they watched Bdubs and Cleo move about inside of their stronghold. “There has to be a way to get to them,” Scar pondered aloud, “A full attack isn’t an option, and I’d doubt they’d fall for the tnt trap again.”

“What if we trap their bubble elevator,” Grian proposed, trying to avoid eye contact with his partner.

“They don’t have a bubble elevator.”

“Then we build them a bubble elevator, act like it’s a big gift from us, and trap it to kill them when they actually use it.”

“That’s…actually pretty smart,” surprised, Scar glanced at Grian, who was looking at the tower with a calm intensity. “Let me grab the materials for it and-“

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“No, I’m building this. You keep them busy while I get the job done.”

“You actually want to help me kill them?”

“Of course,” Grian flashed him a teethy, soulless smile.

——

Screams of pain and anger wafted in through the window of the bunker and blood stained the desert sands red. Grian sat huddled against the wall of their bunker, hand hovering over the lever to the kill switch. Almost the entire server was out there, playing capture the flag on the largest death trap the server had ever seen. A body thudded against the bunker’s iron door, and blood trickled through the crack beneath it. Blood………

Blind to Scott’s tearful screams of “Jimmy!” Grian pulled the lever.

The sound burst one of his eardrums almost immediately, and the blast caved in the wall he was leaning against, sending him flying across the room and slamming into the opposite wall, fracturing his skull and shattering the bones in his left arm. Ignoring the mind-breaking pain, Grian rolled over onto his back, listening to the sounds of panic as the final small explosions fired.

“Grian.” Ren shouted as he stumbled in through the collapsed wall. His right arm seemed to have been torn open, and his mane of hair was matted with blood and sand. An ugly crack ran through his crown. “You did this. You have to pay.”

“And he will.” Before Ren could comprehend, Martyn leapt into the bunker, driving his sword between Grian’s ribs and twisting it to double the pain. Grian’s vision blurred, taking on a yellow tint as it faded.

——

“Where are you, Scar?” Grian called softly as he stalked through the charred ruins of Dogwarts. He carried the sword of the Red King and was coated in the blood of the King’s Hand. He stopped in front of where the Renchanting building once stood and eyed it whimsically, “We did it, Scar. We made it to the end. Final two, bud.”

“I’d count that as a win-win.” Scar’s voice was weary, and Grian caught sight of him entering through the main entrance, one of the few remaining pieces of wall. An explosion had clearly taken a chunk out of his leg, and deep gashes painted his skin. Barely able to walk, he slid to the ground, leaning against an undetonated pile of tnt. “Is this the end?” He said something else that Grian couldn’t hear as he crossed the way and sat down next to his partner.

“I guess it is. We….we killed them all.”

Something in Scar chilled at the way he said it. With a trembling turn to look at Grian, he quietly asked, “So who wins?”

Grian stood up slowly, blood rushing through his head so loudly he couldn’t hear anything Scar said or what was happening around him. He held Ren’s sword carefully in his hands, admiring the etchings on them. In a slow, contemplative movement, he took the hilt and gripped it tightly. Whirling around in a single heartless move, he ran the Red King’s sword through Scar’s neck, killing him. “Me.”

Blinded by fierce, undeniable red, Grian scanned Scar’s battered corpse as it crumbled to dust. He noticed that Scar had been holding something behind his back as he died, something that he hadn’t wanted Grian to see.

As the rushing in his head faded, Grian’s hearing returned and he froze at the quiet, but all too familiar hissing he heard. Scar had had a flint and steel in his hand. He had figured out what was going to happen and set one last fire, a fatal insurance policy.

Grian laughed as the tnt detonated, obliterating him and finishing off the last life on the server. At one point, Grian had hoped that his partnership with Scar would end well, but he had known deep down that it could only end badly for them.