#tagging him because... y'know
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fl00mie · 5 months ago
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i fucking adore how he says ""where am I" instead of "where are WE", this mf is always aware of his selfish ass and i love him for that
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wolves-in-the-world · 7 months ago
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the thing about eliot spencer as a character, right. the thing about him.
(and as always your mileage may vary on my analyses so if we disagree that's cool actually)
is that he is in fact a somewhat emotionally constipated idiot who is occasionally sensitive about his perceived masculinity and gets defensive about emotional intimacy around other men (largely hardison, who's much more comfortable expressing affection and embracing a softer kind of masculinity), but eliot displays enough emotional awareness and sensitivity and respect for women etc etc that anyone who's been subjected to that era of television will put on rose-tinted glasses without even looking twice.
(and he is, don't get me wrong, incredibly emotionally aware for a professionally punchy guy with enough trauma to sink the titanic. it still startles me to see.)
on top of which we have the layers and the accessories and the excellent hair with the secret braids and the way he barely has an ego and he's good with kids and protective of his team without taking it too far, and some of us never stood a fucking chance.
#eliot#eliot spencer#orig#further discussion in further tags#I'm being perhaps a little critical and there are other ways to read eg the fragile masculinity moments#but I Do think they were intended this way and largely come across this way#I'm quite happy playing with a fanon eliot who's better at this shit is the thing? it feels faithful enough to the original.#but this is something I'm chewing over in a rewatch and it's interesting so far#the fact that he pretty consistently respects women doesn't stop him from treating men and women differently y'know?#the fact that his bantering with hardison expresses affection and gets quite soft over time#doesn't stop him from pushing hardison away on a semi-regular basis. often physically.#the fact that the fandom unanimously decided he's an utter gentleman in matters of dating#doesn't quite negate the time he physically stopped aimee from getting away when he wanted to talk to her#though that's one I might disregard because it's so early and I think they hadn't quite figured out the characters then#and it was admittedly a brief moment followed by very consensual happenings#perhaps. honestly. eliot may be reflecting the attitudes of the show here.#which were very progressive for the time and are still startling on several fronts now but also showing definite signs of age#arguably fanon eliot (as I understand him) is eliot adjusted for inflation. as it were.#there's a lot going on here I'm having a normal amount of thoughts about it I'm. stopping now
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batsplat · 2 months ago
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autistickaitovocaloid · 3 months ago
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I've been thinking about him all day to be honest.
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non-un-topo · 2 years ago
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Outfits of the Guard from an older fic of mine, Tangerine and Roc. Supposed to be a bit of a mix of styles from Central Asia in the late 15th century as they go about their travels, with a little battle-ready touch.
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kyouka-supremacy · 1 year ago
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The best thing that came out from the latest interview is everyone agreeing that there's only one person who can Give Akutagawa's Life A Meaning and that person is Nakajima Atsushi
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overly-verbose · 4 months ago
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I'm just thinking that Uraume is a great cook, but the real masterpieces are made up of people. I understand that Sukuna will be a little uncomfortable eating people's kebabs (that usually scares teenagers, you know). BUT. The moral mobility of His Evil Majesty's mentality simply says to me: Find the enemy, and the big guy will finally get a nice meal. He worked so hard, he deserves dinner. ("Fu_k, Marry, Eat" game. Start). SO. ONE DAY. People tempura — yes or no? How much Curse is in our King?
Uraume is indeed a great cook, ridiculously even lol
- I mean afaik it's canon that, whilst human meat is supposedly difficult to prepare well, they managed to do it; which is one of the main reasons why Sukuna kept them around aside from the fact that they're a powerful sorcerer lol
(he most probably liked the unaltered taste by itself too (he did in my Series Canon for sure), but Uraume made it additionally enjoyable - so for Mr. I Do What I Want it was definitely a unique plus lol)
As for SIkuna eating people, hmm
Although he's pretty deeply in denial about it, he doesn't actually directly feel anything negative at the prospect
(as showed in Part 4, he actually found the little taste of Yuji's blood he got by accident ridiculously enjoyable, if in terms of Identity Issues and 'Ah Shit That's The Kid's Blood' extremely distressing as well. What a fun combination)
- it's Everything Else around it that makes him uneasy; like the fact that he Knows It's Wrong, The Kids Would Most Freaking Likely Not Like it, and just overall the Character Dissonance he feels about it all
because how the fuck can he be a protective inner marshmallow that would just like to hug the kids, and give them headpats, and heal their wounds, and just overall take care of them as best as he can 🥺
and someone that gets absolutely freaking giddy at the idea and acts of violence and bloodshed (as long as it doesn't involve Some People but especially if it involves Other Ones) at the same time y'know?
(sorry bro, you're not gonna get any less contradictory anytime soon if ever - have fun being yourself, whatever that means, lol
Complex characterisation and all that ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ)
But returning to the topic; I won't say anything about further down the timeline
(he might, he might not, who knows, probably not in a way that would upset the kids too much if anything but ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯)
but there is this one particular, hm, person that would fit all boxes in terms of being a mostly guiltless but still tasty snack, though not as tasty as possible, who miight be meeting him relatively soon (how??)
- and SIkuna wouldn't even need to break any promises with Yuji (oop spoiler 👀) to indeed have a spooky snack!
So, before anything as sophisticated as tempura - there may be moreso sashimi :] *HeeHee HoHo's a bit as lighting strikes in the background and I comically jump in surprise because wtf the sky's clear-????*
.
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queerplatonic johnlock is so important to me i don't think you understand
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danwhobrowses · 1 year ago
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Taliesin for the sake of sanity I'm gonna have to ask you to NEVER LET ASHTON DO THAT AGAIN
Except the kissing Fearne part, more of that!
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buttercup-barf · 2 years ago
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You know what? I'm intrigued by you. [ENA'ifies your Peppino Spaghetti]
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I think a funny equivalent to Ena's total mental breakdown where she goes grey would be him getting so stressed he's neither horrified and panicked, nor violent and unhinged. He just. Goes blank. Not even in an angsty hollowed way, but just in an "Eh. Whatever." way, lmao.
And there are some other doodles under the cut! Expand! IF YOU DARE...... >:-)
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Not gonna tag Mellow, because. Holy shit what have I done to him. I do, however, like the idea of him, Ena, and Peppino being some sort of a trio. Two surreal fellas and A Normal Man (who is more unhinged than the other two combined). Oh, also The Very Much Real Peppino is there too!
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What hyperfixation? What new hand-therapy character? I don't know what you're talking about! /j
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And these are just a reference to this video! ... I can explain.
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Not tagging Noise either, because I did not do him justice there.
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And a final assortment of floating heads and torsos, since I am. Still figuring him out. I do like the guy! He's very silly. (The one in the middle is miserable because every time I try adapting him to my usual style it goes as poorly as here.)
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creativesplat · 9 months ago
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ok... so Lambert x Eve...
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Eve and the two Blaiddyds
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Lambert and the two Fierenes
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The step-siblings
@blaiddydbrokeit and I were talking, and they have now sent me down the wonderful rabbit hole that is Eve and Lambert getting married and looking after their children.
#Dimi desperately needs a good mother figure (y'know rather than his idealised image of Patricia who never really loved him and didn't pay#attention to him no matter what he says to himself (you know only having that one memory of her where she was looking out the window and ig#ring him) and then tried to murder him adn his whole family) anyway#Eve would be good for Dimi#and Lambert and Alfred and Celine would get up to all sorts of shenanigans#but also Lambert might be able to help Celine understand and overcome her fear of other's deaths#Dimitri in particular would be able to understand that fear and sympathise with her#and alfred is just having a great time with a new brother and dad because everything is awesome all the time and his old dad would have lov#d his new dad and he tells alear all about it and she's like ooh!#anyway an adorable meet the step-dad step-brother situation for the couple (you know my alflear loving heart can never resist an opportunit#anyway#other tags were originally messaged to a pal when we discussed the idea but I thought they would work under the picutres too:#crack ship or not Lambert and eve are adorable in my brain#lambert egitte blaiddyd#queen Eve#fire emblem engage#fire emblem three houses#anyway maybe in a heroes universe or something; or dimi revives Lambert using some sort of magic and then Lambert and eve meet up in a Fodl#an and Elyos meet and greet sort of ball and they become friends and then they discuss being widowed and through a long series of meet ups#realise a political marriage between them both would be good for Fodlan and Fahrgus and good for Fierene and Elyos and they're also in love#anyway they both visit each other's spouses graves on the anniversary of death#like they would both really respect their partner's deceased spouses and not be jealous at all when the other gets upset and is like#I really miss them. Because they both get it
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batsplat · 4 months ago
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☕️ on marc/dani as teammates? bc so many ppl on here especially have such a simplified and maybe even rose-tinted view of their dynamic imo…..
hm yeah it's a tricky one because I do think there's a lot of genuine interpersonal fondness there that was forged in the aftermath of some equally genuine animosity. for me, it's that development that's particularly interesting... what I personally have always found the most appealing about this rivalry is just how ruthless marc as to someone he genuinely admired and considered one of his heroes or 'references'. like, I think it's a bit different from the dynamic with valentino because it's kind of... vale's the childhood hero vs dani as a rider who's ahead of you who you want to directly emulate in rising through the ranks. with valentino, marc didn't really think they'd ever be competing at the top of the sport because of how big the age gap was, but with dani? different story
which does affect the emotional approach, I reckon - you can admire them and still dream of beating them, you know? like, say you're fourteen years old in 2007 and are getting out your customised casey stoner voodoo doll while he's bitch slapping your two guys, what fantasies are you cooking up in your little brain about meeting your heroes? with valentino, it's probably him grinning at you while handing you your tenth consecutive motogp trophy and telling you how amazing you are... how you're his successor, the one carrying on his legacy... lots of daydreaming of him like, hyping you up after he's retired and calling you god's gift to motorcycle racing, etc etc. who knows, maybe marc was also fantasising about beating valentino in epic duels, but he wasn't really expecting to be fighting valentino, right? whereas with dani? oh yeah, marc might have thought he was great... but in an ideal world, he's ripping the crown off dani's head when dani's a three time defending motogp champion! so crucially marc wasn't blindsided by actually fighting him on-track, and was kinda more prepared for that to get ugly? dani acts as a 'direct' reference, where he's just a few years ahead and marc can see how it's done, basically. but what this still means... he'd admired this guy for years, he had posters of him and all that shit, but the moment they're direct competitors and teammates? all that is just... locked away. no interest no mercy, all he cares about is beating the guy. and marc did still talk about using dani as a reference point, about how much he'd learned from him... but of course that scary fast learning of his was all about beating dani
from dani's side... I'm glad he's gotten to a stage where he's at peace with his career, but. god, it must have been tough. at the end of 2012, he's the in-form rider - more so than jorge. he won six of the last eight races that year. incidentally, this is how jorge is talking before the 2013 season:
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obviously, jorge is trying to fuck with dani here, but he's also not really wrong. all four of the aliens have got a lot going on early 2013, but if you had to point at the guy who is dealing with the most pressure? well, it's got to be dani, doesn't it. he was the one who still had something to prove in the premier class, who was now being thrown together with the super hyped rookie. this is how dani spoke about marc at the start of the year:
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and here:
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and then of course marc beat dani at qatar and then won at cota... granted, dani does a good job of keeping his head and regrouping for the next few races - but it was still an auspicious start, provoking a lot of discourse that wasn't particularly kind to dani. so in that first year, you've got all these different elements - you've got how marc is competing on-track, dani's injury, how marc is already attempting to assert himself within the team, how you've got the behind the scenes warfare between their two teams (again, see this article)... and then dani's issues with marc's actual riding (x, x). now, I think it's worth saying that aragon 2013 is not a case where marc has clearly fucked up. he makes a mistake, yes, but he couldn't have known the slight contact he made with dani would lead to that wire breaking and dani's highside. here's what dani said:
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this is a case where different racing philosophies clash, right? what dani's saying is that what happened was a direct consequence of how marc approaches riding - that he's always flirting with contact and this time it finally went wrong. it's the kind of riding dani has consistently disliked, and it's something marc is the poster boy for. in this case, this crash essentially ends dani's title bid. he couldn't walk for three days afterwards. dani criticised race direction for choosing not to give marc a penalty (apart from the penalty points) - this was not something he just brushed off
and, look, you do have to bring it up... dani's experiences with sic will inevitably have influenced how he approached the marc rivalry. I mean, it kind of did for all of them - there's elements of that tragedy that will have bled into how valentino, jorge, dovi and dani reacted to marc. with casey, it's one of the reasons why marc never even had an on-track rivalry with him. now, obviously, dani had big, big issues with sic, a lot of tension including harsh comments in the press and refused handshakes and all of that, as a result of sic's very aggressive approaching to racing. dani was also the one who suffered the most as a direct result, in particular after the broken collarbone at le mans. he's spoken after sic's passing about his regret about how he handled that relationship... how it changed his approach to rivalries, that reminder that there might be things he'd never have the chance to fix
the other sic-related element is that of course, there were easy parallels to be drawn between him and marc, and his shadow did at times loom uncomfortably over debates over hard racing during that period. I think you can feel it most strongly in jorge's response to marc... the echoes of when jorge had gotten in a verbal clash with sic at one of the 2011 pressers and his frustration when his complaints were just laughed off by journalists:
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this press conference was from the race before le mans, where sic was responsible for dani's broken collarbone. so if two years later, you've got marc publicly shrugging off jorge's complaints in an only slightly more respectful manner, how can you not be at least a little concerned? yes, marc did have a better feeling of where the limit was, he didn't really push things too far, but... this was still a very recent trauma for everyone and nobody knew how far marc would or wouldn't push it at the time. especially not after the kind of reputation he'd gotten himself in his 125cc/moto2 days. (though of course it's important to note that sic's death wasn't caused by his style of racing, and if anything he'd gotten more sensible in the latter stages of 2011). so the influence goes both ways, right? on the one hand, it all feels a bit too familiar, on the other... well, that's actually a reason why you probably don't want to be too harsh on this kid. because you never know
in the end, the tensest year of their teammate partnership was 2013 - because after that title was sealed marc had won. by the end of the year, it wasn't really dani's team any more. his internal position had already been de facto undermined by casey, but not to the same extent because casey wasn't really interested in playing these games - plus the end stretch of 2012 had definitely cemented dani's role in the team. I've already given most of my thoughts here about how marc takes control of that team, which inevitably touches on some of his nastier behaviour. lying about what parts suited him is the obvious example... he's a ruthless teammate, he openly admits to it. and obviously, dani wasn't always just fine with that. who would be? he's accepted that's part of who marc is as a competitor, and at the end of the day he also had to accept losing. sometimes you just gotta make your peace with a status quo, yeah? it's tricky to strike the balance between not losing the competitive edge and not letting losing to your young teammate year after year drive you insane... dani's always been quite good at focusing on himself, even if a lot of the time 'focusing on himself' involved 'recovering from some horrid injury'
so you know, it's nice that their relationship has gotten warmer since they've no longer been teammates, and for the most part they did keep things civil while they were directly working with each other. also, you do just get over things when you're no longer competing with someone... I've said this before, but there's really only a relatively small number of truly burnt bridges in the paddock ecosystem. thing is, it's quite impressive of dani to seemingly not hold any grudges over what marc did to him... but he easily could have, and it kinda would've been justifiable? it's also primarily down to dani that this teammate dynamic didn't get worse than it was... which, y'know, you can argue if that was the right or the wrong approach, but it also meant he increasingly had to accept a subordinate role within that team - become a non-problematic teammate that honda was happy to sign again. and then you've got marc, who spent years looking up to dani and then spent years being pretty vicious to him and never saw the slightest contradiction between those two things, because of course he didn't! and of course he still has some historical fondness for him as a result of once being his fan... which is an element that has gradually snuck to the foreground again after marc increasingly managed to dismiss dani as a competitive threat. overall, then, as teammates they had their early tensions, then they were 'reasonably friendly coworkers', now they get on quite well. over the course of his career, dani's hardly been immune to drama with other riders, but at the end of the day he's pretty feud-proof on the whole. what kind of a nutter would you have to be to start a feud with dani pedrosa, eh
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devondespresso · 1 year ago
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writing my silly little fic and again im struck with how much opportunities they missed by pretending the s2 stancy breakup wasn't messy, specifically for Nancy's guilt about barb and forcing herself to grow up too fast
like s1 Nancy spends one night being a stupid teenager goofing off at her boyfriend's party and staying over to get spicy while Barb goes home. then she later realizes Barb disappeared and died that one night she was letting go and having fun. this is widely recognized trauma for her and informs a lot if not most of her actions through the rest of the show
in season 2 she's feeling the weight of it more around the first year anniversary. steve trys to help by taking her to a party to forget for a little while and 'be stupid teenagers' for a night. a perfectly set up parallel already
the way the show wants it to go, we get the bullshit argument, they fight, allegedly break up at some point, and nancy sleeps with Jonathan. later steve tells her to go with him and we're supposed to read it as Steve stepping back so jancy can happen. we're supposed to be seeing this as a happy ending.
but with the material we're given this would have been the perfect place for an emotional repeat of season 1 for nancy. she and steve go to the party and pretend to be stupid teenagers for the night. but oh no! nancy lets lose too much, lets herself relax and drink and dance, and the next day her boyfriend's pissed. hes saying she said things she never remembered saying and its hurt him and she doesn't know what to do. and kids around school are talking about them breaking up at the party, and that fits with Steve's anger she saw, so they must've broken up right? it sucks, even if she wasn't in love with him, that'd be the worst way to break up with someone (especially if she's confusing platonic and romantic feelings or convincing herself it has to be romantic when she really just values him as a friend)
and then she doesn't have time to work it out, she needs to go with Jonathan to avenge barbs 'disappearance' to give her family closure. She's got a lot of conspiracy shit to do and its stressful. so when murray starts going off about how she's not really in love with steve, how she actually likes Jonathan and he seems to like her back. they finished a lot of the hard work with the conspiracy stuff, she can let her guard down and have a quick good night.
then the next day is chaos. demodogs and labs and will being possessed. It a rough fucking day. Steve tells her to go with Jonathan while they get the mindflayer out of Will, civil like they're on good terms so she does (and thank god she did because that was rough and they needed all the help they could get)
and then everything's fine again, with the upside down. and it looks like she handled things better this time, was about to relax occasionally and still made it through.
except apparently she and steve didn't break up. he thought it was just a few fights, that they put their shit aside for the apocalypse and now they can work things out.
and it could ruin nancy. a year later and she's still hasn't learned her lesson, that letting her guard down hurts the people she cares about, that relaxing and having fun makes her lose people. its her fault for the messy breakup with Steve and its her fault that barb is gone. she's the reason she's lost friends close to her, 2 for 2, and now she only has Jonathan left (and what do you know, season 3 has her conflict with Jonathan and in season 4 she's not let anyone else get truly close to her and fred still dies)
you see what i mean?? by having conflict magical resolve itself in the background we loose so much powerful, painful character drama for her. our girl who thinks she has to keep the world around her up solely on her shoulders because she can't handle the loss of her best friend in season 1. Nancy who desperately wants to be normal and have people she loves but keeps losing them, through factors both in and out of her control, but feels like everything has to be her fault just because some things were.
and to be fair, that story is still present in the show. its there and definitely compelling, but it could've been even more so. i feel like if maybe there was less 'nancy has to be a strong independent girlboss' in there (abd it's definitely there, they want to make a point of making her a Strong Woman Character so bad) and she was allowed to have mistakes acknowledged by the narrative, this is the direction it would've gone. She could've been an excellent example of well written women who are strong and awesome through their own right instead of the narrative trying to make us like her
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trans-leek-cookie · 11 days ago
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its past midnight and time to yap about Mouthwashing. Anyway obviously we don't see the Specific Events only how the characters react but with Anya... Okay I'm going to talk about the Sexual Assault not with Specific Details but that's what the post is about so
Anyways she reads to me as very like... trying to downplay the severity to herself. Like thinking through it (not having the exact quotes but) I feel like it'd be an unfortunately natural reaction- if you were stuck with 4 guys and the guy with the second highest position on the ship assaulted you depending on the situation. I feel like its not hard to imagine you'd try and reframe it as Less Bad to cope because let me be honest if I had to confront the implications of that, mainly the fact he could do it again and I wouldn't have any real way of dealing with it without complicating things even further bc he doesn't just have a close relationship with the guy with the Most Power on the ship, he also is in charge of keeping Me and The Other People On The Ship Safe, i would be in deep denial just to not lose my god damn mind like thats so fucking scary. And then the implication you tried to talk to the captain and even if he wasn't cruel he didn't Understand the Severity of what you were suggesting is like. Besides feeling afraid it could genuinely really fuck with my own perception bc like "if this guy who I trust says he's not a bad person maybe I'm just overreacting?" is. Again unfortunately understandable.
And again I'll say that Anya fully breaks down when the news breaks that pony express is fucked and like. 1. I think that's related to her own finances (and also. Literally just realized the way an abortion could interact badly with "no savings" like I Just Processed that fact. Like I knew "oh if she couldn't abort having to support a child wouldn't just be traumatic but also fucking nightmarish finance wise" but even having an abortion could make things so much harder.) 2. Jimmy LASHES OUT at Curly OPENLY. again based on my interpretation of Mildly In Denial To Cope this would. Like. Really fuck with that because it goes from "I trust the captain and I don't want to be afraid of my crewmate for a year" to "oh he is willing to verbally abuse the captain, who is his friend" and realizing I wasn't overreacting.
I also wanna point to the dead pixel conversation and obv it's symbolic but idk if it's meant as "there's a dead pixel that Anya noticed and she's using the topic to like test the waters" or if it's "anya is literally just trying to figure out Curly's thought process" which isn't like super important but like. Focusing on the way she starts the conversation by saying that she "Likes the illusion the screen has". (I don't remember the exact words sorry) But that's really interesting to me bc obviously you can read into Curly not seeing the dead pixel and instead focusing on the bigger picture (and how the dead pixel "doesn't ruin the illusion") but I think it's really interesting that Anya starts by talking Positively about the screen even though the dead pixel is there (and she can't stop thinking about it)
Like thinking through implications option 1: she's talking about the screen and uses the dead pixel to get a feel for how Curly responds to her bringing up issues
2: she's being entirely metaphorical and still trying to sort of self soothe- seeking external validation that the dead pixel Isn't Actually That Big A Deal (and therefore she's just overthinking)
3: idk how to phrase this exactly but ppl have talked Abt the way she talks to Jimmy, how it indicates a sort of "Fawn" response where she tries to keep him calm with compliments and stuff, and her talking about "enjoying the illusion" is her trying to do something similar with Curly- essentially starting the metaphor by downplaying the issue
Anyway. I don't know if I have a full conclusion but another thing is I think ppl need to acknowledge that while Curly fucked up and harmed Anya (mainly thru inaction). He's not uniquely shitty. Most people will be in a situation where they act similarly, and that DOES NOT JUSTIFY HIS ACTIONS. I AM NOT SAYING CURLY IS ANY BETTER. I am saying that you need to be able to recognize your capacity for harm thru inaction and understand that like. He's not uniquely terrible he's just Normal Levels Of Unhelpful, which in a situation like Anya's is Dangerous
Like. Basically you can say "fuck jimmy fuck curly" all you want but you need to be able to understand that everyone including yourself has the same capacity for harm
#Mouthwashing spoilers#Rape ment#SA ment#Ask to tag#Idk I will say with the Anya thing: I'm a little bit speaking from personal experience#Of. There are things that I think about like ''ppl say These Things (that I experienced) are Very Bad but I don't think that's the case#For me'' like. Not consciously ''oh I'm over reacting'' but more ''well maybe my situation is different'' and it's really hard to figure ou#How much of that is genuinely the case and how much is denial y'know. 👍#Also Curly is a trans guy to me bc I'm hungry for characters who are trans men and just as culpable of willful ignorance and harm#As cis men. Anyway if anyone has a diff take on Anya's situation and)or mindset I'm open to hear it this is just my thoughts#Based on how the scenes read to me.#Also like the situation is delicate and this isn't like A Perfect Fix but genuinely Curly should've given Anya the gun#I don't think she would've shot it but it works as a Defensive Threat in a way that would give her security and also deter jimmy from being#A fucking problem because he doesn't experience consequences for his actions due to a mix of Captain's Friend and#''we can't really do shit to him or we lose our co-pilot'' (even tho he fucking sucks at his job they don't learn that until he#Is The Captain so they likely assume he's at least fucking. Functional and they would be worse off with him out of commission. Y'know)#But then again Jimmy's allergic to responsibility and consequences to the point of murder suicide so maybe Anya wouldve had to shoot him#Idk. Imagine me pacing full of rage. Imagining a universe where Anya can just fucking go to med school and doesn't have to deal with#The pony express. FUCK THE PONY EXPRESS
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angeart · 2 months ago
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Aaaaange, why doesn't Scar feel safe at that moment? More Tease pretty please? -🎀
oh i can do more than tease for this one :3c
[1,2k ramble + 8,5k rp snippets]
you know how we talked about the post-return situation, with the hermits raising potential allegations against scar? worried that he might be hurting grian, that their relationship is not safe?
that is pre-wedding. that is before scar proposes, but he already has plans to. he's always dreamed of a big, fancy wedding. it'd be picturesque and grand and wonderful! there'd be lots of flowers and music, laughter and dancing. and they'd be surrounded by friends who would be happy for them.
all of this is actively crumbling in scar's hands as hermits shy away from him as if he was dangerous and unpredictable. they're wary, unsure. they no longer see their cheerful, clumsy, harmless friend. they see an unfamilair vex.
they are not happy for them. and, right now, they do not approve of their relationship either.
scar thinks this is not how home should feel like. this is not what he wants. and he doesn't know how to convince them that he's not that scarecrow they have constructed from their lack of understanding. he doesn't know how to get through this.
but it's more than that, right? all their concerns, however well meaning, also make grian spiral. there's so much stress put on the two of them suddenly, their relationship straining.
none of this was ever meant to happen like this.
it's at a point when grian starts finding his stability, after that big breakdown, that scar decides he's done hiding and running, too. if he has to convince everyone to like him again, then he will. he'll fight for this. he'll do his best so that they can overcome this.
him and grian decide to host a little sleepover. for selected hermits! that way, they'll be opening themselves up to others. they want to try and show the others who they are now. to invite them back in. to let them get to know them all over again.
they arrange for it to happen within a week or so, as they still have to make a dedicated room for it. it's a lot of people to hang out and sleep!
they dedice to repurpose their old bunker. yes, the one they constructed shortly post-rescue. the one that was their hideout, their safe place.
it's underground, its walls drenched with anxiety and uncertainty. grian itches from it all, now used to spend time in their nest-tower, high up above the ground. underground feels stifling, all of a sudden. it feels wrong.
the first thing scar does is break the ceiling, to make a big skylight. it's left open for now, sand smelting into glass.
they struggle with the concept of hosting an event for many people. they can't seem to remember what they need. desperately, they try to figure out ways to make the place seem cozy and non-threatening, both for show and for their own sanity.
they talk about a little flower patch in the middle, right underneath the skylight. something bright and nice smelling and alive. they talk about mood lighting, about fairy lights and a fireplace. and—
they talk about sleeping arrangements.
grian says he doesn't want to make a big nest. he... doesn't want the others in their nest.
they're not flock.
they no longer feel like family.
so instead, they try to figure out how many beds they need. except, grian still wants a nest! for him and scar. and, maybe that's good! that'll be another stepping stone, showing the others the new them. who they are. what they now need. things like that!
while scar is tasked with making the small garden, grian goes off and gathers things for beds. he starts making them, quickly becomes overwhelmed, and instead starts putting together a big net that will hold their nest-bed suspended in the air.
he might be ignoring some symptoms of sickness that he simply brushes off as stress. a bit of tension. a couple of anxious, sleepless nights. it's fine.
(it isn't fine.)
it's when they take a break that grian finds himself too lightheaded and needs to lie down.
it's only about half an hour or so later, in the middle of them talking about some of scar's previous relationship experiences, that grian starts to feel really dizzy.
he has a fever.
and he succumbs to it fast after this.
scar wants to take him to the nest upstairs, but grian says he is too nauseous to be moved, so scar does the next best thing: cocoons grian's shivering, curled up form in blankets.
and he messages the hermits.
the hermits, who think he might be doing bad things to grian.
he tells them they need to postpone the sleepover.
he tells them grian is sick.
he asks for soup, but says not to come inside.
it... doesn't sound good. it rings some alarm bells in the heads of those hermits that are Very Concerned and Very Confused and maybe a notch paranoid. but scar stops replying. he's busy dealing with a sick grian.
and hoo boy.
grian's fever climbs sharply and mercilessly, making him delirious and disoriented. he can't tell where or when they are. he keeps talking about things that have already happened. he asks if the world is ending again. he thinks him and scar will be tossed to different servers this time. he asks for [REDACTED]. he asks for flock. he asks for kane and nico, where are they????
scar's heart is splintering and tearing to shreds as he tries to keep a grip, navigating heartache and mirror panic, trying to calm grian down.
it's at this time there comes a knock at their door.
scar can't deal with the others. not right now. not now, not now, not now.
they don't ask for permission to come in. they don't take silence as a no.
grian chirps in distress, from beffudled memories alone, and— they're worried. they can't leave it be.
they find the hole that was meant to, eventually, be a skylight.
they drop down.
mumbo, worried out of his mind. tango, here to help. impulse, last-minute joining them just to keep things reined in.
scar knows grian is out of it. he knows grian didn't want anyone else in their nest.
these are intruders.
and all grian registers are voices. all he thinks of are hunters. he sobs, terrified.
but to the others? scar's shifting into a vex form, flickering and dangerous, clutching grian who's making distressed noises, shielding him from sight.
they need to check up on grian, but they're not allowed any closer.
of course this escalates messily. and scar's afraid and hurting, but he needs to protect grian, and they aren't seeing him anyway. they don't see that he's scared. they don't see that he's cornered and helpless. they don't understand grian's current headspace, or his experiences that dictate his feverish panic.
and there's no space to explain.
... you know what. have the rp bits. as a treat <3 (this starts at the impromptu end of conversation about scar's past relationships, just for context.)
i decided not to redact some bits, for your enrichment. and to feed into the chaos. you're welcome :3c
------ RP STARTS HERE ------
SCAR
Scar takes another moment just to run his fingers over Grian’s forehead, then back into his hair, carefully folding his bangs back. In a lot of ways, early days with Grian were like that. Sharing their passions, enjoying each other’s company, nothing but fleeting touches between them that Scar would be left thinking about for days. 
He thinks he may have always been a hopeless romantic.
But is it really hopeless if the man of his dreams is here before him now? Curled up in his lap and cooing so soft?
Scar hums, pleased, even if he obviously wishes the sickness weren’t part of it.
“Eventually she was invited to some exclusive server, real far off. She didn’t know when she’d be able to see me next, so… we decided to go ahead and split.” Scar says it all so casually, because it truly was a mutual decision. One of the few relationships that ended with no misunderstandings or disappointments.
Well, it was still a little sad, but they knew it was for the best.
She didn’t want to leave Scar waiting, and he wanted her to feel open to exploring her relationships to the fullest with her new server mates. 
“I knew dating was always sort of secondary to her. Not as important as her art. She could do without it easily, especially if she was going somewhere with a bunch of other artists.” Scar looks down, carrying that soft smile and directing it toward Grian. “And she wanted me to be able to move on, so I could eventually meet, as she called it, the One.” He grins, remembering that being her exact phrasing. “…and that’s you.” Scar flushes a bit at his own cheesiness. “I know it.”
--
GRIAN
grian sighs softly at the touch through his hair, relaxing even through his shivers. his teeth chatter a little, a small frown forming between his eyebrows, but it softens a little as scar continues talking.
he tries to slot the information somewhere in his head. that this was an amicable breakup, brought on by insurmountable distance, diverging life paths. that this is something scar can still remember fondly. that this person had every trust that scar will find someone right for him, and that scar is convinced that someone is grian.
but somehow, his thoughts snag and loop, a faulty wire somewhere. distance and far away servers. distance and—
all of a sudden, he's thinking about the apocalypse that took everything from them. everything but each other, eventually. 
he thinks of distance, and a faraway server.
and scar not being with him in that scary place, or grian not being there with scar.
he takes a sharp breath, head shifting and eyes opening. his gaze is feverish and intense as it finds scar. "i would've look'd for you ev'rywhere," he says, hushed but urgent, completely nonsensical.
--
SCAR
Scar tilts his head, confused. He can tell what Grian is saying is drenched in adoration, but it feels misplaced, like it doesn’t belong here in this particular conversation.
Scar isn’t so sure he’s going to get an explanation with Grian in this state.
“I’m right here,” Scar decides to say instead, voice soft like flower petals placed over his skin, hoping to ease whatever tension is lingering in Grian’s thoughts.
His thumb brushes just in front of Grian’s earwing, not quite touching, but grazing over those tiny feathers that permeate his skin. 
“Right here.”
--
GRIAN
grian's gaze softens, some intensity fizzing out, even if the feverishness stays. "right here," he parrots in a weary but fond whisper, audibly relief laced. his eyes close again and he tilts his head further, chasing the touch of scar's gentle fingers.
-- 
SCAR
Scar’s glad to see Grian close his eyes, knowing he likely needs the rest. To think he was building beds and nets when he was slowly succumbing to a fever just makes Scar sad.
“For good, too,” Scar adds on, humming. “If you’ll have me, of course.”
He sees his communicator buzz— it had been a few times during his story— and wonders if that means soup is here already. With a name like soup group, maybe they had it ready-to-cook. 
Slowly, he shifts one hand over to take it, just to make sure he was clear about not entering the house. He’s careful to maintain soft patterns with his other, not wishing to disturb his mate.
--
GRIAN
for good. that sounds wonderful. it feels like a nest built around him.
grian coos, velvety and quiet, nuzzling weakly against scar. he feels him shift, but the attention to such details is slippery to grian's mind, especially as scar's touch remains on him, tracing gentle patterns.
--
SCAR
Scar stills for a second upon reading his messages, only drawn back into focus by the soft coo that escapes his mate’s lips. He’s quick to continue his soothing, setting the communicator down atop a half-squished pillow with a plop. 
<PearlescentMoon whispers to you> Soup delivery!
<GeminiTay whispers to you> Anybody home?
<Skizzleman> anybody seen G?
<impulseSV> Skizz
<impulseSV> Don’t
<Mumbo> Did something happen??
<GeminiTay> He’s just sick!
<Tango> …sick huh?
<impulseSV> Here we go again… 
--
GRIAN
with no idea about the turmoil spreading across the server-wide chat, grian stays curled up, leaning on scar. the silence stretches, making the space feel heavier somehow, time oddly slippery.
grian doesn't like it.
he lets out another coo, this one less stable. there's a questioning edge, something insecure and sorrowful and afraid.
--
SCAR
Scar blinks rapidly, eyelashes fluttering a bit as he tries to recalibrate. He can't bother with that nonsense right now, Grian needs him. That's his only priority.
"You okay, G?" Scar asks, carefully curating his voice with his practiced honeyed tones. "Soup's at the doorstep. Should be fine to leave it there, though."
--
GRIAN
soup's here?
grian forgot all about the soup. why's it at the doorstep?
he can't think.
he lets out another coo, pitched similarly to the last.
--
SCAR
"...Are you hungry?" Scar tries to guess. "I told them to leave it there for now. I'm sure it'll stay hot."
-- 
GRIAN
grian's getting increasingly more confused. who brought the soup?
they're... underground, right?
there's this horrible moment when grian can't tell where they are. or when.
"... why d'n't they c'me in?" he murmurs, thinking feverishly about flock. about nico and kane, and their worried faces.
--
SCAR
"You...you said you didn't want anyone in the nest?" Scar replies, nervous now. 
Did he misinterpret that? Did he just cause turmoil in the chat for no reason?
--
GRIAN
grian looks at scar again, his gaze unfocused even as he searches scar's expression for answers that evade him. he's so confused. flock is allowed in the nest?
he chirps, unable to put the mess of his feverish, disoriented thoughts into words.
--
SCAR
"Shoot," Scar says, doubting his actions now. "I—I can message them again? I think the messages from Pearl and Gem were only a few minutes ago—"
--
GRIAN
grian stiffens, his eyes widening with more confusion.
peal and gem?
it takes him an odd, hollow moment to place those names, and then he's unthinkingly moving, rolling over, chirping in a higher pitch. the cocoon of blankets tangles around him, keeping him right where he is, unable to flare out and flap his wings.
--
SCAR
Scar is about a moment away from grabbing the communicator when Grian begins thrashing, and he quickly shifts to cradling him with his arms, trying to keep him in place. "Hey, heyyy, whoa... easy there, birdie, what's wrong?" Scar tries to imitate a small chirp, trying to say that it's okay if Grian can only make noises. He'll try to interpret to his best ability.
--
ANGE ( :D )
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--
GRIAN
grian breathes heavily from that small amount of exertion, completely placated by scar's tight hold and the familiar rumble of his voice. dark spots blotch out his vision, and he lets himself go limp, cradled by scar's arms. safe. safe, safe, safe.
his head is so jumbled, and everything feels like a horrible dream. they're underground. there's meant to be flock here. there's meant to be—
with eyes flooding with confused tears, he whimpers. "scar?" his voice is hoarse, breaking midway through. "where's avi?"
--
LINK
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--
SCAR
Scar's huddled over Grian, as if he wanted to shield him from the world. (He does.) He keeps his grip firm and shushes him softly, trying to reign him in as much as he can so he can get some sort of coherent answer, when—
Oh.
Oh no.
"Where's—" Scar chokes out, completely caught off guard by the question. He pulls away, catching sight of those tears, and suddenly his eyes are stinging as well. "I—Grian, we're..." He can't answer that. He can't, he can't. "Grian we're home."
--
GRIAN 
grian's gaze jumps between scar's eyes. incoherency threads through his veins, spilling across his nervous system. the word home makes no sense to him.
he chirps, a quiet, mournful, quivery sound. confused and afraid.
--
LINK
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--
SCAR
Scar chews at his lip, trying very hard not to lose himself to the sudden flood of panic that surged through him at those words, not to mention the sheer misery of it all as well.
"We're not there, Grian," he continues to try. "We're home. We're—"
He hears knocking at their door upstairs. 
Scar's ears twitch, honestly unsure if Grian will hear it as well with how Scar is huddled over him and with the less acute hearing. 
Muffled voices pool in from beyond the stairs.
...not gonna answer. ... just wants to be sure ... if it makes him feel better...
"...on Hermitcraft," Scar finishes, the word almost bitter on his tongue. 
--
GRIAN
"i— but—" grian's oblivious to knocking or potential intruders. he sniffles, a tear falling free. he's shaking, the fever ravaging, the world gently spinning off axis around him. 
he thinks scar looks a bit panicked, and it just pushes him deeper into his disoriented confusion. because— aren't they hiding? from danger? aren't they in a hideout? in a bunker, or a cave? aren't they in a nest that's incredibly makeshift, put together in a rush?
... isn't there meant to be flock here?
he chirps again, louder, still that higher pitch. fear sears through the sound, his breath turning rapid as his heart beats wildly against his ribs, even as fever presses the heavy weight of exhaustion right over his chest. 
he's scared, because he can't remember. he can't remember what happened—
"where are they?" he insists, his voice verging a sob. "where is flock?"
--
SCAR
Scar thinks the voices stopped for a second after Grian chirps, and the reality of the giant hole in the ceiling sets in on Scar all at once. All they’d have to do is walk about the back and there’d be nothing keeping anyone from seeing the two of them. 
Scar’s wings flare out around Grian as an instinctive shield. 
Grian is asking about flock, and…
Well, the reality of that is that there is none here, Scar concludes dismally. 
Grian didn’t want the hermits in their nest when they were constructing the party room. Grian asked for Avi. Grian’s probably thinking about Kane and Nico, too.
The hermits haven’t gotten there. They don’t know avian-brained Grian.
“[REDACTED],” Scar answers, trying to give Grian a shred of reality to grasp onto. [REDACTED]
--
GRIAN
[REDACTED]? 
grian's mind spins, the same way the room spins around him. he feels as if the whole ground tilted with them on it. there's sea underneath the raft of the floor. 
he feels sick.
he wants to close his eyes, but he finds himself staring at scar, helpless. floatingly, he remembers words about distance and faraway servers, and he thinks of hermitcraft imploding, whole chunks being lifted up into the air.
his stomach twists and lurches. the spinny feeling makes him think even more vividly of those floating chunks. maybe they're on one now?
he ducks, as if the ground really moved from underneath them. he tries to paw at scar, but his hands are still trapped, and it just makes him thrash again against the blankets, whimpering.
he wants his flock. he doesn't understand where they are.
"call them back," he whimpers. "call— avi. can— avi can come too?" he pauses, his breath stuttering as he looks up at scar with so much pleading. 
he wants a bird flock. he wants to tuck him in the middle of the makeshift nest and make sure he's safe.
--
SCAR
Scar stares at Grian, heart actively tearing itself apart at his words and tears threatening to fall. 
He hears footsteps.
He can’t do this. If they find them he’s not going to be able to untangle all of this in time, he—
“They’ll be back,” he lies, chest aching. “Shhh, shhh, listen, they’ll be back, okay?”
The words taste like acid on his tongue, burning his throat like rotten bile. 
“You’re sick, Gri, let me take care of you,” Scar pleas, shutting out his surroundings so he can focus. Focus. Grian’s the only thing that matters. “Why don’t we go upstairs? If— if you puke on me, fine, I just— you should have a bath. And more blankets. And Mr. Beak.”
And medicine on his way up. And soup. 
And away from the approaching hermits. Away from danger.
--
GRIAN
"they'll... be back?" grian repeats, in the smallest voice, each syllable threatening to snap and let it all crumble. he sniffles, another tear tumbling down his cheek as the confusion continues to tear a path through him like wildfire.
scar says their flock will be back. 
he says grian is sick, and oh, maybe the world isn't ending, then? 
grian feels weird. everything's fuzzy and nonsensical, memories fading and time slipping and everything melting together.
there's a sob, and it takes grian a moment to realise it came from it. "it— it feels like—" his body shakes and trembles, barely a separate thing from the shivers. he's curling up again, making himself small. with a ragged breath and tears glistening in his eyes, he looks at scar, completely missing his point about upstairs and a bath and mr beak. what leaves his lips instead is a question that's white-hot, shaking him to his core. "scar...? is the world ending again?"
--
SCAR / MUMBO
“What—“ Scar is reeling from all of this. It doesn’t feel unlike being trapped in a cramped terracotta bunker listening to Grian murmur thoughts of death and despair. “No, Grian, the world isn’t ending.”
Scar thinks he knew how to handle this better once upon a time.
This world has ironically shaken his confidence. 
“We’re perfectly safe.” Scar continues. “We’re in our home— our house that we built.”
“Grian?” comes a voice from above, causing Scar to bristle.
His eyes flick upward and catch sight of a nervous pair of eyes peeking over the dirt hole.
Scar does not want to talk to Mumbo right now.
--
GRIAN
grian's eyes close and he blindly curls towards scar, deeper into his hold, lost and despondent. nothing makes sense, not even scar's reassurances. 
out of all the words scar says, grian wants to hold onto one the most: safe.
and yet incoherent threats continue sinking teeth into grian's flesh. sending panic signals about how he's weak if he's sick, and they're a target, and they can't run from danger. about how their flock is missing. about how they might be hurtled into different, faraway servers this time, and— and grian doesn't know how to survive without scar, and—
he sobs loudly, his breaths becoming erratic. he hears his name, but it's not scar's voice, and he flinches hard, whimpering, until some instinct catches up and tells him to run. to grab scar and abandon the nest.
he tries to flap his wings, but finds them bound.
he doesn't process that sensation right, pitching straight into memories of traps and nets, chirping high pitched and distressed. the blankets don't hold too hard, but he just can't figure them out, unaware of what they even are.
--
SCAR / OTHERS
“Grian!” Mumbo exclaims, calling the attention of his other unwelcome companions. 
Scar snarls, luckily muted and hidden from view by his bright wings. This is not what he needs right now. This is not what Grian needs. He needs peace and quiet and warmth and soft things—
Scar hurries to try to still Grian, shushing him as calmly as he can manage. “Hey, hey, Grian, it’s me, it’s okay, shhhh, please calm down.”
Grian said he felt nauseous. This has to be about the worst thing possible for him.
“Scar, what’s—“ Mumbo is babbling, sounding nearly as panicked as Grian. Scar doesn’t care about that though. 
He thinks maybe Mumbo has fallen onto his knees up there. He thinks he might be considering popping down into their space.
Scar is not having that.
Strangers are not allowed in the nest, get out, get out.
“Grian, look at me,” Scar tries, urgent and insistent. “We’re safe, we’re okay, I— I’m gonna take you upstairs.”
“Whoa there, skippy, I don’t think you should be taking him anywhere!” comes Tango of all people.
Scar eyes glow a faint blue, feeling cornered, while all of his body language shifts into that of defensive and protective, wrapped around Grian fully with his wings blocking the intruders from view. 
He desperately attempts to lift.
--
GRIAN
grian sobs, quieter, against scar's soft, frantic shushes. he wants to believe that everything's okay, but scar doesn't sound okay, and there are all these other voices, rising up and loud, coming closer.
scar pleads for grian to look at him, and dizzily, he does, his eyesight blurred by hot tears. he's breathing too fast, which is just inviting more lightheadedness; he shakes in scar's grip, whimpering as scar repeats the promises that they're okay.
desperately, grian tries to hold onto that.
he chirps, still distressed but now also pleading, a sound meant only for scar's ears but all too loud and grating to not be heard by anyone else in the vicinity. 
his wings still feel so horribly bound. 
he chokes on a sob. "scar, help." 
he needs to be freed and— and they need to run, right? they need to go? scar says they'll go upstairs. grian tries to get his hands free, wanting to hold onto him, but he's bundled up too tight in scar's arms to really manage with his feeble strength.
his stomach churns, acidic, turning and twisting with the uptick of stress and panic. he sobs again, terrified that they're about to be caught.
--
SCAR / OTHERS
Focus, Scar thinks frantically. Focus, focus. 
He can’t let the anger from the intrusion overcome him. He can’t get defensive here, even if he’s certain one unwelcome step into their makeshift nest will set him off. 
Grian is squirming in his arms, chirping as he relives some phantom experience, and Scar knows this can’t look good. He has to stay calm, he has to keep him under control.
But then Grian begs for his help and it’s like the mirage shatters around him, except this time it’s reality fragmenting before his very eyes, twisting and mutating into something horrible and so much more dire. 
Grian’s sobbing, but for a second Scar sees him despondent, face torn open and wings drenched in blood. He hears voices and it’s like white noise, a vague threat, unwelcome. 
Scar looks around frantically.
He doesn’t know which way Nadia is—
“Scar, buddy, hey, why dontcha just put Grian down and we can aaaaaall relax—“
Scar’s wings flare out to their full span, one dipping over Grian as a shield. No one can see him. No one can ogle those feathers. No one, no one.
“Sc–Scar, what’s going on?”
Scar sees movement. Someone jumps down and instantly he’s crouched low, holding Grian tighter as his eyes glow blue.
“Scar…”
He’s supposed to be calm, he’s supposed to be gentle, he’s failing, he’s failing, but he can’t let them near—
Scar’s entire body flickers blue and he bites his lip hard enough to draw blood. 
“Stay back,” he strains through sharpened teeth, voice low like a snarl. “You—“ 
(You aren’t welcome here.)
(You’re making things worse.)
(You’re lucky I don’t slay you right here and now.)
Scar’s voice breaks, desperate and frightened by his own shattering psyche. “You’re scaring him.” 
--
GRIAN / OTHERS
the sense of danger continues building up around grian, fueling his fear, overexerting his already sickness-weakened body. his heart continues ramming a fast, painful rhythm, and the ache across his chest just serves to make grian more scared.
scar's hold on him is firm, and grian doesn't know whether to feel comfort (he's protected, it's okay, scar's got him), or more panic (there's a threat, scar can't fight if he's gripping grian, why aren't they running?) choking on sobs that he's unable to stop, grian presses his forehead into scar's shoulder; the heat of his fever can surely be felt through scar's shirt, scalding hot. there's a familiar, faint tingling, something grian's learned to attune himself to and recognise—the electrifying current of scar's magic, a warning, a preparation. a wing slings in front of grian like a glowing shield.
mumbo's standing in the bunker, jolting still at scar's accusation and the display of his vex magic. "i'm scaring him?" he stammers, incredulous and not understanding. "mate, i think he's asking to be let go," he hazards, navigating the distressing pitch of chirps and sobs with anxious misguidedness. 
tango's now crouching at the edge of the hole, also intending to descend. "yeah, just let us see him. you've got nothing to hide, right? why make this worse?"
a third pair of footsteps makes it to the unfinished skylight, peering down at the situation with a tense "uhoh," trying to read what exactly is happening here. he isn't sure yet, but some alarm in his head goes off.
with straining breaths through his sobs, grian's dizziness only gets worse. even as he's securely held, he can't escape the violent sensation of the world spinning fast. his stomach tightens, burning with acid, stress overloading all of grian's already muddied senses. there are voices around him, louder, closer, but they don't process right; they're just an incoherent noise, a call of hunters saying we found them, making everything collapse in on him and scar. it feels like they're surrounded and, fearfully, grian presses himself further against scar, burrowing in as much as he can with all his limbs still tangled into the blanket net. 
he should've been more careful.
he shouldn't have triggered the trap.
his eyes are tightly shut, overflowing with tears. behind his closed eyelids, he can see, vividly, avi's terrified look as he's caught in another trap.
a vile kind of panic spreads through him, sharper and more damaging than the previous one, drawing a terrified chirp out of him. the sound breaks on a sob like waves violently crashing into a jagged cliffside, and he desperately tries to take a breath through it all. to speak. 
it's awful; he's so horribly lightheaded and nothing makes sense. but he has to— he has to say this, has to make sure scar hears, has to beg for this one thing above all else. he chokes out, wobbly and halting and small enough to be coherent only for scar, and only if he can spare enough attention to listen. "ple— please don't— don't le— leave him behind—" 
--
SCAR / OTHERS
Scar tenses, briefly glancing down at Grian as he wonders whether or not he truly has been misinterpreting it all, if Grian wants to be let go like Mumbo claims. But no, Scar can feel that feverish haze pressed into his shoulder, desperate and clingy, and his expression sharpens, eyes narrowing in Mumbo’s direction. 
No, Mumbo knows nothing. 
Still, Scar shrinks under Tango’s accusations, reminding him that he ought to have nothing to hide. He doesn’t, just— he can’t let them see. He can’t let anyone see the tears and the panic and the bright violet hues. 
Scar knows he’s being irrational but his wings simply won’t budge, one flung out in some innate danger response and the other curled around like a very necessary shield. They twitch but don’t move.
All Scar can manage is to turn them slightly transparent. A barely willing compromise.
Even his vision is flickering blue.
…Grian’s words make him see white.
He’s vividly tossed back in time, hobbled over and bloodied, barely hanging on, watching as [REDACTED]
Grian’s begging him not to let history repeat itself, he knows, he—
Scar takes a stumbling step backward, blankets curling around his feet and threatening to drag him down. 
“Hey, hey, hey, let’s not go going anywhere, pal,” Tango insists as he leaps down to join Mumbo, carefully touching his shoulder in solidarity. He’s jittery here, not liking he prospect of staring down an angry vex in the slightest, a totem gripped in his other hand. “We’re just here to help.”
Tears break past Scar’s eyes and he hiccups, struggling to stay above water, barely grappling with reality as it continues to shatter before him. 
He can’t do this alone. He’s scared, he’s slipping, he’s making it all worse. 
He… he should have nothing to hide.
“He’s sick,” Scar pleads again, voice hoarse and not at all his own. Blue wisps escape with every word. “He–e has a fever, he’s not— he’s not thinking straight.”
God, are they going to believe that?
Do they believe anything he says? That a crazed vex says?
Scar looks at Grian again, desperation hanging off his tongue. “Grian, you— I—“ He doesn’t even want to suggest it, but they probably need to hear from him. “We…we’re safe, okay? I promise, I… d-do you want me to put you down?”
--
US
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--
GRIAN / OTHERS
scar's suggestion is the only thing grian hears with any semblance of coherency, and it makes his lungs spasm and his heart ache. he shakes his head in panic, forehead still pressed against scar, the sharp motion rapidly destabilising the world around him until it spins in a nauseating blur. "no no no don't leave, please, don't don't don't," he chokes out, crying.
the sharpness of that reaction freezes mumbo, sends everything in him careening into doubt.
it's this moment impulse takes his cue to join in. he jumps down, touching tango's arm just as tango is taking a breath to speak, feet moving to step forwards. impulse stops him, gently, even as tension drips from his voice. "tango, wait."
grian's sobs fill the air; the transparency of scar's wings doesn't offer much more clarity. all impulse can tell is that the avian is shaking.
but his eyes draw higher, meeting scar's. his gaze softens at the sight of tears, and he lifts his hands up placatingly, the gesture feeling like lowering of a weapon. "scar." his voice is quiet, just loud enough to be heard. he tries to keep it calm, even as his nerves are fraying with the situation. "you aren't going to run off with him anywhere, right? it's okay. we won't hurt you guys."
mumbo's eyes widen at that, gaze whipping from impulse to scar—for the first time noting the tears in the vex's eyes. "oh, gosh, no, we aren't here to hurt anyone!" he echoes, distraught. 
--
SCAR / OTHERS
Scar tightens his grip, pulling Grian up higher and whispering soft nothings, assuring him that he’ll stay, that he hears him, he wouldn’t leave him, not ever. 
Scar tenses up when yet another person enters their space, but visibly relaxes when he recognizes Impulse’s voice, something steady and yielding to the way that he speaks. It’s the only voice that doesn’t distort into that of a hunter’s call in Scar’s rattled mind.
Slowly, Scar pulls his leg back in, shaking as he gives up on the half-step he was taking away. “I… I know that,” he fibs, because part of him doesn’t believe them. “But Grian doesn’t. N–not right now.”
Tango appears unconvinced, making a short grumbling sound that Impulse cuts off with a light shove. 
Impulse recognizes this scene. Maybe it’s just the flicker of Scar’s wings, but Grian appears to have that same glossed over look in his eye that he had the day they found them— unrecognizing, inconsolable. 
It isn’t good.
--
GRIAN / OTHERS
grian's sobs quiet down a little at the soft assurances, but the world keeps swirling and swimming. 
mumbo lets out a choked noise, not willing to reconcile with the idea that grian might not recognise them as safe—despite all the hints of their early days on the server post-rescue. he thinks of grian, bruised and bitten and flinching, and he can't let this go. he can't. "please," he begs. "i just want to see him."
impulse looks at mumbo, then back at scar. he's holding out his arm, in case the others would have the stupid thought of moving forwards.
he needs to bargain here, and it's hard.
he tries to hold onto the way scar let pearl at least somewhat close, that day when they pulled scar and grian from that awful world, grian's wing tangled in a horrible trap that tore at it. pearl wasn't allowed to touch, but she was allowed to help, and maybe they could arrive at something similar here, too.
"scar...?" impulse says, gentle and calm again. (it's only the smallest of wobbles that betrays him.) "do you think you could sit down? you don't have to let go of him, just, let us see? we don't have to come close." and then, after a breath, he tentatively pushes with another suggestion: "i think if you're calm about it, it might help him calm down too. you don't have to get away from him."
"yes he does!" tango protests.
impulse whips to face him. "tango!" he snaps back. 
grian flinches in scar's arms at the raised tones, letting out another loud, terrified chirp, curling into scar for protection. he's back to sobbing louder, all of scar's comfort undone in one swift go.
--
SCAR
Scar’s wings sag the slightest bit, drawn in by the soft promises Impulse is laying out, but still hesitant to follow. 
Sitting down would mean giving up an easy escape route. They could be lying. He could be cornered. This could all be a ploy to get him to lower his guard.
Tango’s outburst does not help settle that fear.
Scar grits his teeth together, a few stray tears falling as he struggles to form words. “Stop yelling,” he demands, light blue magic slipping past sharpened teeth. 
He’s back to soothing Grian, not yet yielding and not at all regarding Mumbo’s request. 
“Shh, shh, I’ve got you, okay? I’m—“ He looks over the three pairs of eyes— fearful, disdainful, concerned— and focuses in on Impulse. “They’re… friends.” (Not flock.) “I’m just gonna… kneel down here, okay?” (A small compromise.)
--
GRIAN / OTHERS
grian continues crying, albeit a little bit quieter again. just a notch. it's hard to tell if scar's soothing is working, or if he's just tiring himself out.
tango, to his credit, seems a bit alarmed by the reaction he's gotten. but he is still relentlessly wary, suspicious of this whole situation.
impulse can tell, and it keeps him tense. he wishes he could just tell tango and mumbo to leave, but he knows they wouldn't budge. not now. not when things are like this.
he holds back a sigh, looking grian's way. "yeah, we're friends," he echoes, soft, trying to sound harmless and encouraging.
he isn't even sure grian's listening to him. he isn't sure he can recognise his voice. it feels awful.
he doesn't think tango and mumbo realise the extent of what's happening. that if grian's mind is scrambled with the sickness, he might not be mentally present here. on hermitcraft. he might be stuck somewhere else entirely, and the thought of it pains impulse. 
the least they can do is play along.
the least he can do is try to deescalate this whole thing.
"c'mon," he tugs at tango and mumbo, voice low. "let's sit down."
"wh— i don't want—" tango starts in protest, but impulse holds his gaze, steady. 
"shh," he reminds him, shutting tango up.
"oh gosh," mumbo lets out, wobbly, and slowly lowers himself down to the floor.
impulse does the same, dragging tango down with him.
"see?" impulse looks back at scar, trying to offer a small smile. "we're not gonna go closer if you guys aren't ready. we're at the same level here. it's okay." he's willing to be patient here, but he worries that tango and mumbo might not be. 
--
SCAR
Scar stares for a long moment, fidgeting between trust and opportunity, wondering if he could run. If he could take them down if they’re going to make themselves vulnerable like this.
His ears twitch with alarm at the mere thought, catching himself before he can spiral further into delusion.
Carefully, he lowers himself to the ground, knelt down on both knees so he could easily spring back into action. 
“We aren’t ready,” Scar confirms, warily eyeing the lot of them. 
His eyes are still bright blue, though slightly less fiery. His chest flickers occasionally, a warm white light. His wing lowers by only an inch. 
He allows himself one moment of weakness, eyes flicking back down toward the shivering avian in his arms. “… I promise a warm bath after this, okay?” he whispers, though his voice carries, still too ragged from pressed together fangs. “W–we’re gonna be fine.”
--
GRIAN / OTHERS
impulse nods. he knows they aren't ready, but he hopes hearing that helps the others settle too. "we'll wait. take it slow. make sure he's okay," he coaxes, tone soft. hoping, desperately, that tango and mumbo won't mess this up. that they understand and will follow his lead. "we're not getting any closer. you have space." he pauses, and then he adds, a bit of heartache slipping into his voice: "you're safe, i promise."
grian recognises that they went down, slow and controlled. scar's hold is still tight and secure, and he's talking to him softly, and grian scrambles to understand what's happening. they're... not in danger anymore? scar says they're going to be fine. 
with a tired coo, grian nuzzles into his shoulder. he trusts him, even as he still sniffles, tears dripping down. 
his body feels awful, and his wings twitch, only to find themselves still tangled. it's that sensation that prompts another miserable sob from him, albeit less panic-driven. "take it off," he pleads, begging scar to untangle the trap that restricts him. "take it— scar, hurts," he whines.
the blanket doesn't actually hurt. his body aches from the fever and extertion, but his head tells him that pressure against his wings ought to be painful, and so that's what it is. the fear mistranslates into pain—or maybe just inevitability of the pain if this goes on, he isn't actually sure—the memories more vivid than reality itself.
--
SCAR
Scar nods slowly, wings lowering just a little bit more. He can see the tension actively begin to roll off of Mumbo, but for some reason that doesn’t comfort Scar in the slightest. 
He tries to offer gratitude toward Impulse in some way, but then his attention is dragged back to Grian, ears flicking as he grows rigid and attentive once more.
“Take…?” Scar questions, looking Grian over in confusion before it finally clicks. “The— oh.”
He shifts a little, resting Grian’s weight firmly on his legs, and slowly peels away a few layers of blankets, trying to simply loosen them up and allow for his wings to slip free. 
“It’s okay, you’re okay,” Scar assures him, voice already growing much softer, no more wisps escaping when he speaks. “There you go… ‘m sorry.”
--
GRIAN / OTHERS
it's the word hurts on grian's tongue that has mumbo jolting, and impulse has to react fast, grabbing him and keeping him still. "stay calm," he hisses under his breath, quiet enough to be intended only for their trio.
"do you really expect us just to sit here," tango hisses back, "when grian just said he's being hurt?"
impulse exhales, long and tense. "that's not what he said. and he asked scar to fix it. he said," he stresses, somehow still managing to keep his voice hushed and low, "he wants scar to stay near him. so sit. still. and wait."
grian, in the meanwhile, squirms as the blanket layers gets peeled off, feeling the pressure relent. he breathes out, a bit more steadily, forehead still firmly against scar. some of his crying tapers off once he can twitch his wings and feel no resistance—and the loosened blankets let his hands free, too. he uses this immediately to grab onto scar's shirt, depletedly holding on. 
"thanks." he sniffles. and then he asks, feeling small and vulnerable, his heart still frightened: "are we safe...?"
--
SCAR
“Yes,” Scar replies, even if he doesn’t feel safe in the slightest. He feels under attack, though perhaps at least not physically. “…we’re having a sitting party.”
It’s a bit of a nonsensical thing to say, but Scar is trying desperately to reel himself in here. His eyes are only barely green, a blue sheen still hiding them away. He feels tense and uneasy, watching Tango in particular now with narrowed vision.
It flicks to Mumbo, accusatory in his stare. “I said we didn’t want visitors,” Scar states, guarded. “So why are you here?”
--
GRIAN
it is a bit nonsensical, the words sitting party taking a while to slot in grian's mind. but if they're having a party, that means there is someone else, right? the memories of the confusing, threatening voices feels fuzzy to grian. the danger has passed, the hunters are gone. they wouldn't be sitting down, wings released, having a party of all things otherwise—and scar confirmed they're safe.
which means...
maybe scar called them over, like grian asked?
he relaxes a little bit more, even as he still continues to wade his confusion. "flock...?" he asks in a tiny coo. 
he's leaning his head on scar's shoulder, staring blankly off in the direction of scar's other shoulder, not focused on anything in particular. his vision still swims. 
--
SCAR
“… Friends,” Scar corrects, because they’re not. “… They’re just—“ Scar swallows down some bitterness, trying to stay calm. “—worried about you.”
And then he looks back to Mumbo, eyes glowing a bit brighter again as he waits for his answer.
(They’re worried about Grian. Not him. Unless being worried of him counts.)
--
GRIAN / OTHERS
"mhn?" grian makes a confused sound at the word friends. it doesn't want to slot anywhere in his head. who?
mumbo, in the meanwhile, shrinks under scar's sharp attention. "we were worried," he offers, nothing more than a repeat of what scar's just said himself. 
tango steps in, pointing out: "you said he was sick. we wanted to check in on him."
--
SCAR
Scar’s ears droop at Grian’s clear inability to recognize the concept. But frankly, he doesn’t blame him.
With a sigh, Scar scans the three of them again, looking them over for any sign of trouble, but he notes a distinct lack of anything, which makes him frown.
“So, what? Did you bring medicine?” he asks rhetorically, because he knows the answer. “Soup? Blankets? Bath salts?”
His eyes narrow with each question.
--
OTHERS
there's a very clear faltering across the whole group. they exchange glances, slightly nervous. 
"i— we—" mumbo stammers, face flushing. he's suddenly feeling very uneasy. chastised. he stares at the bundle scar's holding, what he at first was so sure was a distressed avian probably really just a feverish one, and it makes him deflate. he didn't think past the anxiety enough to consider that scar might be telling the truth. (he's still not sure. he still needs to see grian, properly. he still wants to check.) (but the scales of probability are tipping in a way that makes him feel off balance and out of place.)
impulse sighs. he didn't have time to stop them long enough to ask them to be sensible and bring something for grian if he truly is sick. he is here as a chaperone and—oh boy is he glad he came. he can't imagine how this would've panned out otherwise.
"you weren't replying on the comms," tango soldiers through, still frowning, still a touch confrontational. he doesn't like the way scar's looking at him. doesn't like all his sharp edges. doesn't like the feeling that scar's still hiding something. "we didn't know what you need." he pulls slightly back, straightening up. "do you need anything?" he challenges. there already was a soup delivery by the front door, and it certainly doesn't seem like they're low on blankets.
--
SCAR
“I was a little preoccupied,” Scar replies dryly, frustrated that he’s still being questioned. “I’d think it’s customary to bring at least some sort of gift,” Scar continues to pry, not letting it go. Not letting it slide that they clearly came here out of fear instead of assistance. “But sure, sure, we certainly wouldn’t say no to some minty bath salts or some tea leaves.”
Scar briefly wonders if that’s all it would take to make this unwelcome trio leave. He doubts it.
“Or, you know, some peace and quiet so he can get some rest,” Scar concludes, tight jawed and eyebrows furrowed. At least his eyes are back to green.
--
OTHERS
mumbo recognises that they're being thrown out, but it just makes him dig his heels in. "we can bring some tea, but— but scar—"
it's tango who breaks this line drawn in the sand again, encroaching on a minefield territory. "we still haven't seen grian." because this sliver they can see right now doesn't count. it doesn't say anything about whether or not grian's hurt, underneath it all. even if grian begs for scar to be close. honestly, tango doesn't consider grian the best judge of that right now. unhealthy attachments exist!
--
SCAR
Scar exhales through his nose, slow and barely steady. 
Reluctantly, he lowers his wing, allowing an unobstructed gaze, though he makes no effort to close the distance between them. He doesn’t want that line broken.
“…happy?”
--
GRIAN / OTHERS
grian registers scar's wing falling away, and it makes him feel oddly exposed. grian isn't sure to whom; scar said their flock isn't here, but that they're safe. still, he ducks, hiding his face in scar's chest. that way, he can pretend he's still shielded. that way, he can pretend the world can't hurt him. (the way he can feel scar's breaths is just a nice, soothing bonus. scar's right here, alive, right next to him. perfectly in reach, as grian's fingers tug at him.) (he closes his eyes, willing the surroundings to stop tipping around them. his feathers fluff up lightly.) 
mumbo makes another strangled noise, and he moves as if to stand up, compelled to go closer. to check. to— 
to be there. 
grian's his friend, and there wasn't a time when mumbo wasn't allowed to be near. to take care of him when he feels unwell.
with blankets and grian's wings still firmly in the way, and grian's whole body turned away from them, mumbo still can't see anything. so no, he isn't happy.
"... grian?" he tries, calling out to him, coaxing him to look his way as he gets up to his wobbly feet.
--
SCAR
Scar bristles again, wings twitching as he instinctively growls, low and mercifully non-threatening, but it certainly doesn’t sound that way to an untrained ear. 
These are untrained ears. 
Scar registers the flinch in varying degrees from all three of them, and his ears twitch, then droop again in shame.
He can’t do this. He can’t let someone else close. It doesn’t matter how fidgety and awkward Mumbo is, Scar doesn’t trust him to come close.
Mumbo who says foolish things; Mumbo who looks at him like a stranger; Mumbo who cares so much that Scar can’t help but feel strangled by it as it weaves around him, passing him by and threatening to smother Grian in his disturbed state. 
--
GRIAN / OTHERS
grian makes an inquisitive mewl, a soft and small sound, unworried at scar's growl. he knows it's not threatening, so he just gently prods, inquiring as to what's wrong. what's bothering scar?
pointedly, he doesn't react to mumbo's call at all. as if he didn't even register it.
tango's rising to his feet now, too, but impulse puts a hand on his shoulder.
it doesn't deter tango, and they both stand up. still far away, but in a way the three of them are now towering over kneeling scar, looking down with varying emotions. 
"we'll get you some tea," impulse says, quiet, measured. he's looking directly at scar. he's trying to tell him that he sees him. that he doesn't blame him, no matter how stifling and explosive this situation is turning out to be.
"impulse!" tango squeaks, indignant, protesting. "he's hiding something!"
impulse's gaze cuts sharply to tango. "keep your voice down!" he hisses, frowning, then sighs. he understands they're anxious, but lines do need to be drawn.
for grian's sake as well as for scar's. 
impulse looks back at scar, tries to soften all the jaggedness from his pooling tension. "do you think you can get him to sleep? rest a little?" he suggests. "we will come back with the tea. if grian's asleep— we can look at him then? so he won't be scared of us?" he bites at his lip, and then adds: "just look. and we can help if you'll need anything else from us, yeah?" it's a gentle proposal, an attempt to find a tightrope that won't send them all careening towards some awful abyss.
--
SCAR
Scar feels so horribly small knelt down like this in front of people that are seemingly hellbent on misinterpreting his every move. His wings fall to the ground at the insinuation of him hiding something once again.
He’s not. He’s hiding Grian maybe, but he was scared— he asked for help and this is how Scar would help…
Scar trembles under the spotlight of their gazes, even if Impulse’s is softer. He feels like he can’t move— like he isn’t allowed.
“I… I want him to rest,” Scar agrees weakly, nodding once in exhausted misery. “You… yeah. You can check on him then.”
He still hates it. Hates the idea of someone in their nest. Hates that he’s still being more or less monitored, hates that he can’t be trusted with what he knows best.
Scar looks down to Grian, eyes big, barely holding back the fear that seeps into that forest green. “Can I take you upstairs? …nest?”
--
GRIAN / OTHERS
impulse softens further at scar's agreement, hearing the fatigue and defeat in his voice. it makes his heart ache, even more when he thinks about everyone else overlooking that. "alright... thank you, scar," he says gently.
then his eyes flick to find the exit, realising they're going to have to walk past. 
"can we... leave? or do you want us to wait until you go first?" impulse checks nervously, gaze jumping between scar and the avian he's cradling. he has a feeling scar doesn't want them here any longer than necessary, but impulse isn't sure if getting closer only for the sake of walking out is what he needs.
"or we can dirt pillar up," mumbo suggests with a nervous little laugh, attempting nonchalance and jokes, even as everything in him still rails against this. he's drawn forward, towards grian, like a moth to a flame. he wants to check him over, touch his skin, care for him. he doesn't realise he's completely disregarding scar in this scenario. doesn't realise he sees him as nothing but a mad guard dog, standing in his way for no reason. 
"you're giving up?" tango huffs, tail swishing. 
"i— what?" mumbo laughs again, more nervously this time. "we'll be back."
"what, so he can cover up his tracks?" tango pushes, frowning. all too aware that a potion or two are enough to hide most injuries. and an asleep grian can't answer any check-up questions.
it's impulse who growls now. "tango. scar isn't our enemy. he's our friend. maybe you should start treating him as such."
"i— wh— but—" tango stammers, completely taken off guard, ears pulling low.
grian, in the meanwhile, reacts to scar's careful, gentle question. his unfocused gaze lifts up, seeking to anchor in familiar green, feeling fragmented and vulnerable and still sick. "nest," he echoes, impossibly sad and hopeful, yearning. he sniffles, not paying their surroundings any attention; the memories still swirl through him, and nothing quite feels real.
nothing but scar.
he tips forward, wraps his arms around scar's shoulders in a weak hug, clinging to him in a position that makes it easy to carry him. 
"... can the bucket come with us?" he half-jokes hoarsely.
--
SCAR
Turns out it doesn’t feel good being spoken about like he isn’t right there, and Scar finds himself slumping forward in defeat, misery seeping deep into his bones.
His chest flickers once more, eyes clouded with a blue fog that only fades when Grian wraps his arms around. Grian, who does trust him and is deserving of his love and attention.
Wretchedly, Scar swallows down his anxieties, does his best to ignore the unwelcome surroundings. He doesn’t even provide them an answer, instead leaning down to kiss Grian’s (still dreadfully warm) forehead.
“Anything you need, G,” he croaks, rising on incredibly wobbly feet and hooking the handle of the bucket with his pinky. 
Wordlessly, he turns his back to his intruders and begins walking upstairs, unable to bear their presence any longer. His wings flick and tremble, uncomfortable being exposed to what he still inevitably seems as enemies. 
(It’s only fair considering how he’s actively antagonized.)
“So sorry about all this moving around…” Scar continues murmuring, feeling entirely off balance, but managing to stay steady only because Grian is in his arms. “We’ll get nice and comfy, alright? And our guests can bring the soup in.”
That’s the only acknowledgment they get.
--
GRIAN
grian lets out a soft noise at the kiss, a mix of comforted and still absolutely miserable. he isn't sure if he feels hot or cold, and his body aches. the nausea is ever-present, making any move a wretched matter, especially when coupled with his still spinning head.
he tries to hold onto scar a bit firmer, but his strength isn't there. he groans, whimpering. "slow," he pleads, not knowing how else to mitigate this.
he really doesn't want to puke if he can help it. although maybe having it over would feel better than this.
--
SCAR
“Slow,” Scar parrots, purposely stilling himself for a moment before continuing at a steadier pace. He didn’t realize he was rushing, honestly, but it makes sense.
He wants those eyes off of his back.
He thinks he hears the sound of pillaring blocks, and that’s likely for the best. 
“Nice and slow,” he confirms again, trying to keep Grian level once they’re past the steps. 
--
aaaand i’ll wrap it up with that. :3
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acegodzilla · 1 month ago
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Still exhausted after his vet appointment this morning
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