#which is completely understandable on Grian’s part

[mcwhytubers]

Haven’t seen anyone mention this yet. But Doc apparently asked if he could be part of the Life Series.

[aquaquadrant]

from eden, part IX (act II)

Word count: 15,401 Warnings: Self-deprecating thoughts (not really, Jimmy’s just a listener and doesn’t know it), strong language, internalized racism, past abuse/experimentation, dehumanization, self-hatred, kissing, mature implications (fade to black), voluntary decapitation Summary: The Double Lifers have successfully thwarted the invasion by Hels Tek, but not unscathed. Now that Tango’s been outed as Bravo’s doppelgänger, the remaining threads are starting to unravel, and Jimmy suddenly finds himself fighting to save Tango from his own inner demons. Can their love survive the fallout?

A/N: This chapter had to get split into two parts bc Tumblr sucks, here's a link to the first half if u missed it. Hope y'all enjoy, please reblog/comment if you do!

Also please don’t think too hard abt the technical portal/redstone junk. I’m throwin a lotta random terms and conditions out there in the hopes of creating a feasible explanation for how portal travel works, and how Hels differs from other worlds in that regard. It’s possible there are contradictions or other things that I didn’t fully think through, but these details aren’t really important. Just try to suspend ur disbelief. - Aqua

~*~

from eden, part IX (act II) - no tired sighs, no rolling eyes, no irony

~*~

“Right then. Uh, thank you all for coming on short notice.”

Grian’s tentative welcome is met with a chorus of rather subdued greetings from the Double Lifers. Everyone is gathered in a loose semicircle around spawn, standing in their respective soulbound pairs and groups. Jimmy would’ve preferred to have this conversation sitting down, inside somewhere, but Tango had insisted on spawn.

Only now does Jimmy realize that the open nature of the forest clearing at spawn is less enclosed than a room filled with fourteen people would feel, and he understands.

Tango hadn’t been very talkative on the way over. But every time he said something, it was with that same forced ‘Everything’s fine!’ kind of attitude. It’s really starting to frustrate Jimmy, making him want to grab Tango by the shoulders and shout, ‘No, actually, everything’s not fine, and that’s okay!’

But he doesn’t think that’d be well received at the moment.

Tango, standing beside Jimmy, is still maintaining his fake nonchalance. To an untrained observer, he’d actually look quite casual. Simply standing with his hands in his pockets, listening intently to Grian with a plain, but not unpleasant, expression. The only indication Jimmy has that he’s at all uncomfortable is the complete lack of movement.

He doesn’t fidget, doesn’t pace, doesn’t shift his weight- all things that might otherwise be taken as signs of anxiety, but are usually normal for Tango. The stillness, though subtle, is concerning. It means he’s tense and on-guard. As if expecting an attack at any second. Which, to be fair, Jimmy doesn’t blame him for. 

But more concerning is the fact that Tango can so easily and convincingly pretend that everything’s fine. He must’ve had a lot of practice.

(Ten years, remember?)

(Of course he’s a good liar.)

(Surprise, surprise.)

Grian clears his throat. “So, as we all know… there was an attack yesterday by some strange fellas who came in through a hacked portal of some sort. I’ve locked the world down for the moment, but until we know all the who’s, why’s, and how’s, I’m afraid that’s only a temporary solution… since I’m sure you all don’t wanna be stuck here forever.” 

He says it matter-of-factly, not a hint of any frustration, annoyance, or other ill-feeling in his voice. But Jimmy sees Tango’s face twitch anyway. Unsurprisingly, the guilt is getting to him.

“But that’s why we’re here,” Grian continues, taking a more upbeat tone. “Tango has kindly agreed to explain a little better what’s goin’ on, so hopefully, we can get to the bottom of this and uh… come up with a plan for moving forward.” He gestures invitingly towards Tango. “Tango?”

(Here we go…)

Tango clears his throat. “Right, yeah, thanks.” He takes a small step forward, casting a quick glance around the clearing. “Okay, so here’s the deal. I spawned in a world called Hels, where every player is sort of an evil counterpart to an overworld player elsewhere in the universe. At least, that’s what I’ve gathered from the Helsknight fiasco.”

Jimmy can actually see the sudden realization that settles over all the present Hermits- minus Pearl, who seems as out of the loop as the others.

Grian’s eyes widen. “Oh my gosh, that makes so much sense…”

“Oh, dudes,” Ren breathes, running a clawed hand through his hair. “Not gonna lie, I completely forgot about that…”

“Same here,” Impulse says, looking stunned. “I mean, it was over and done with so fast, and Wels didn’t seem worried, so I guess none of us really thought to look into it? Man…”

Scott puts a hand up. “Um, what’s tha’ Helsknight fiasco?” he asks, frowning.

“Oh, right.” Tango scratches the back of his head. “So, you guys know of Welsknight, right? One of our fellow hermits?” At the group’s hesitant nods, he continues, “On Hermitcraft’s seventh world, there was this player who randomly joined and attacked Wels. None of us ever saw him, but when Wels explained the situation later… he said Helsknight was some kinda evil clone, and that he came from a place called Hels.”

Murmurs of surprise and confusion ripple through the group. Jimmy longs to put a hand on Tango’s shoulder as a reassurance, but based on how tense he is, that’d probably set him off.

“Wait, really?” Pearl asks, her antennae curling in surprise. “What’re the chances of that?”

“I know,” Cleo agrees, “it was really strange, in hindsight…”

“So this Helsknight guy,” Joel says, knitting his brows together. “He’s what Bravo was talkin’ about, one of those Hels players? Like all the other people that came through the portal?”

“Yeah,” Martyn chimes in, “I- I noticed a lot of uh, ‘Hels’ in the names in chat. Or like, ones with ‘bad’ or ‘evil’ kinda vibes.”

“Yep.” Tango nods stiffly. “Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t know Helsknight or- or how he joined Hermitcraft, but it was obvious he was Wels’s counterpart. I mean, he said he was ‘all the darkest parts’ of Wels, right?” He folds his arms. “Well, I’m that for Bravo. A sort of uh- a personification of his badness, I guess.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Bigb cuts in, holding his hands up. “So- so you’re sayin’ that we all have these… Hels versions of ourselves?”

“Evil doppelgängers, yeah,” Tango amends. “I mean, I don’t know why it’d only be for some players and not others, and Hels is plenty big enough for every player in the universe to have a counterpart. You go to any of the major cities around spawn, and it’ll definitely feel that way.”

“What’s this… Hels world like?” Pearl asks, her red eyes wide with a sort of morbid fascination.

Tango’s expression darkens. “It’s an ancient world, infinite and deadly. The overworld and nether are fused into one crazy, messed-up realm full of these weird hybrid kinda biomes, and- and you can’t access the end. The bedrock ceiling makes it so hostile mobs spawn basically everywhere, but you can’t find naturally spawning passive mobs for like, hundreds of thousands of blocks around spawn, ‘cause the early players murdered them all. And no portal travel in or out- at least, that’s what we thought.”

Jimmy’s starting to see why Bravo described Hels as ‘an inescapable prison of horrific violence and suffering.’ 

Grian raises his eyebrows. “No end?”

“No portals?” Bdubs echoes disbelievingly.

Etho, who’s been listening with rapt attention, tilts his head. “That Bravo guy, he mentioned something about my, uh… my doppelgänger?”

Tango shrugs. “He must’ve met them at some point in the last ten years, yeah. I- I dunno, I never did.” He pauses, creasing his brows as he glances around the circle again. “Actually, I don’t think I ever met any of your guys’s Hels. Or, if I did, I don’t remember.”

That makes Jimmy frown. “What do you mean?”

Tango gives Jimmy a sidelong look. “I uh, I wasn’t really that social for most of my time there, I spent my childhood being a general menace- most kids do, actually. There’s no infrastructure to look after kids, we- they’re basically on their own. So you can imagine it’s- it’s an interesting world to grow up in.” Idly, he kicks at a clump of grass. “Bunch’a little monsters runnin’ around unsupervised, causing chaos, trying not to get brutally killed by hostile mobs and players, it was great.”

Horror seizes Jimmy. “That’s awful.”

“That’s just how it was,” Tango says bluntly. “I mean, try setting something like that up without an admin, right? See how that goes.”

“Wait, Hels doesn’t have an admin?” Grian repeats.

“Nope. At least, not when I was there.” Tango shrugs. “They hadn’t for a long time before I even spawned, so- so the whole place was basically anarchy, every player for themself.”

Aghast, Scar shakes his head. “What in the world…”

“How long did you spend living like that?” Impulse asks softly, his eyes sad.

Tango’s avoiding everyone’s eyes now, staring off somewhere into the middle distance. “Oh, probably ‘til I was like… fifteen or sixteen? Somewhere in the teen stage? That’s when I met Atlas.” A bitter smile splits across his face. “He told me he was recruiting for his redstone company, Hels Tek, and- and of course he threw in lots of cheap flattery, blah blah blah, and in my young, naive stupidity, I fell hook, line, and sinker. Turns out all he wanted me for was a blaze farm.”

There’s a brief silence.

“What?” Jimmy asks, confused. Is that what Atlas had meant about a farm design? Did they just want to force Tango to make farms for them? He knows Tango’s a bit of an innovator in that regard, but that’s an awful lot of trouble to go through for something that could easily be done by someone else.

“He… wanted you to build a blaze farm?” Impulse asks slowly, brows knitting together.

Tango laughs; a sharp, dry exhale. “No, no. Not to build one. To be one.” He reaches a hand up to tap one of the blaze rods hovering around his head. “I uh, I dunno if you guys have noticed, but these things here aren’t just for show. They’re real, functional blaze rods, and they just so happen to be respawnable.”

Jimmy’s stomach drops.

Oh.

(There we go, now they’ve got it.)

(Makes sense, right?)

(Honestly, it’s so obvious…)

The clearing is deathly silent now. All Jimmy can hear is his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. Everything is clicking into place, all the strange things he’s seen and heard suddenly making perfect, horrible sense.

They used Tango as a blaze farm. An actual sentient player, reduced to nothing more than a simple mob. A player with complex thoughts and feelings, with creative ideas and passions, with hopes and fears and dreams. They locked him up like an animal to use for profit- and even now, ten years later, he still can’t fully escape from it.

Jimmy has a sinking feeling he knows what Tango’s nightmares are about.

Tango keeps talking. “They didn’t start with that, of course.” There’s a bored sort of quality to his voice, like he’s merely commentating on the weather. “There was this uhh awkward phase where I thought I was helping with redstone experiments, when actually I was the test subject.”

It’s kind of surreal, actually. To be standing here and talking about this so casually. It’s like Jimmy’s having a nightmare he can’t wake up from.

“And once I caught on, well, they uh- they didn’t exactly have to play nice anymore,” Tango laughs. “That’s where I got these fabulous accessories.” He waves a hand, cuff jangling around his wrist.

Jimmy feels sick. They put the cuffs on Tango to lock him in a farm. To think he’s still had those on him, all this time-

“After that,” Tango continues briskly, “it still took, like, another year of testing for them to develop the most optimized farm.” He delivers the information almost disinterestedly, studying his claws. “It was a pretty smart design, nice and compact.”

Jimmy glances around the clearing. Amidst the shocked, horrified faces, he finds Impulse- who seems to be focused on taking slow, deep breaths, his hands curled into fists at his sides.

(Uh oh, no Impulse to the rescue…)

“Wither roses dealt constant damage,” Tango rattles off, “triggering my blaze rods to respawn as quickly as they could be skadoodled away by hoppers, and they had regen on an automatic clock to keep me alive- though there was a backup respawn anchor for any accidents.”

Wither roses. Of course. Jimmy can picture it, in his mind’s eye; Tango chained up among the ashen flowers. What must it have felt like, to be withering all the time? His health constantly wavering between the icy blackness and the regeneration, every minute of every day. How absolutely miserable.

Jimmy somehow finds his voice again. “How… how long did you spend like that?” he asks hoarsely, stepping next to Tango.

Tango won’t look at him- though he’s carefully watching out of the corner of his eye. “Oh, I dunno… four or five months, maybe?” 

Months. Jimmy’s heart aches. He can’t even begin to imagine what that existence was like. To spend all day trapped in a farm that’s constantly hurting him- and by wither effect, no less. Not to mention how dehumanizing the entire concept is on its own.

“How’d you get out?” Jimmy asks tentatively. “If- if you don’t mind.”

Tango snorts. “Yeah, so, one day, the charge on my anchor ran out when no one was around, so I was able to kill myself to get back to world spawn. And that’s when the portal to Hermitcraft appeared.”

Etho steps forward. “I thought Hels didn’t allow portals?” he asks, his voice as cool and unreadable as his partially-concealed expression.

Jimmy’s taken aback, his feathers puffing up unwittingly. He doesn’t understand how Etho can grill Tango about technical details in such an upsetting situation. In fact, he’d almost think that Etho doesn’t care at all- except the question makes Tango pause. In his expression, Jimmy can see his mind working, and realizes what Etho has done.

By circling back to a scientific topic, he’s provided Tango a distraction. Something less personal for his mind to focus on, and take everyone else’s focus off of him. Already, Jimmy can see that Tango’s less tense as he starts to explain.

“We didn’t have portals in Hels, but we knew the concept from data-mining.” Tango spreads his hands. “Locked comm commands, hidden recipes. But portals to Hermitcraft are made by the universe, right? So- so whatever is preventing Hels players from making portals, it- the universe can circumvent it. ‘Course, at the time, I didn’t know how it appeared or where it was gonna take me, but I went through. And apparently, somehow, a portal appeared in front of Bravo that took him to Hels at the same time. The universe must’ve tried to send Bravo to Hermitcraft, glitched ‘cause of Hels’s wonky portal technology, and swapped us by mistake.”

Etho hums noncommittally. “So it was an accident.”

(Oh, sure.)

(That’s what they think…)

(Yeah, he ‘accidentally’ didn’t tell anyone the truth for ten years.)

Jimmy angrily pushes the thoughts away. So long as Tango didn’t intend to strand Bravo in Hels, that’s all that matters to him.

Tango gives Etho a funny look. “I mean, that’s not the point? Bravo’s been trapped in Hels ever since, ‘cause of me. This whole invasion thing was my fault, they were tryin’ to get me back for the farm and help Bravo escape Hels, and... I dunno, get back to his life? Or, the life I stole from him ten years ago.” He shrugs. “So yeah. Secret’s out, sorry I’ve been lying to some of you for a decade, now, and- and sorry you all got dragged into my mess. I didn’t mean t- well, anyway, that’s- that’s what happened.”

“God, Tango,” Jimmy breathes, reaching a hand out, “I- I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry?” Tango asks incredulously, jerking away from Jimmy. “Wh- for what? That’s just what Hels is like, okay, if it wasn’t the farm it’d have been some other terrible thing, so y’know, it’s- it’s whatever.” He lets out another harsh laugh, raking his claws through his hair. “If anything, I’m the one who should be sorry, I mean, I- I’ve been lyin’ for ten years and-”

“They put you in a farm?!”

Everyone jumps. Impulse’s voice is suddenly several octaves lower, quite a bit louder, and warped with distortion into something truly demonic. His pupils have eaten up the rest of his eyes, turning them solid black. The teeth bared in a scowl look bigger and sharper than they used to, and the hands at his sides have sprouted claws. His horns and tail have grown longer, too, and Jimmy can see what looks like dark, leathery wings sprouting up behind him. His entire body is outlined by a bright golden glow, like his skin has abruptly become as hot as lava, and the absolute fury in his expression burns even fiercer.

Ah. This must be ‘full demon’ mode.

Bdubs quickly jumps in front of Impulse, grabbing him by the shoulders to ground him. Jimmy instinctively steps in front of Tango, wings snapping out to shield him from view.

But the damage is already done. Jimmy hears footsteps, and by the time he looks over his shoulder, Tango is gone.

“Tango, wait!” Jimmy turns to follow him, but a hand suddenly grabs his arm.

Martyn is there. “Don’t chase him,” he says lowly, “he’ll only panic more.”

Jimmy wants to argue, but the severity in Martyn’s solitary eye sobers him. “Alright,” he relents, folding his wings. “I… guess I’ll give him a few minutes to calm down…”

“Right, then.” Martyn gives a short nod, putting his hands on his hips. “Wasn’t expecting that.”

“Tell me about it,” Jimmy mutters, gazing back over the clearing.

Impulse is starting to settle back down, Bdubs in front speaking to him in low tones while Etho and Joel each hang onto an arm. It looks like his extra demon-y features are reverting back to his usual state, though he still looks furious.

Grian is sitting against a tree, wings splayed out around him. He’s massaging his temples like he’s warding off a headache, his eyes squeezed shut, groaning, “How did I not see this coming?” while Scar, crouched beside him, rubs his back soothingly.

Ren is pacing back and forth across the clearing. “I should’a killed more of those guys,” he growls, tail lashing, ears pinned flat against his skull.

“Hey, you did all you could,” Bigb says comfortingly. “I was the one that got us killed. If I’d kept my shield up, he wouldn’t have gotten that shot on me.”

“I wish we’d realized that Atlas guy was in charge,” Martyn laments, crossing over to them. “If we’d stopped him from leaving, we could’a gotten a lot more information.”

“I wish we’d known Tango was dealing with all this,” Cleo says bitterly, her crossed arms resting on her knees, Scott leaned against their side. “I mean, honestly… ten years and we never knew? That’s- that’s- that’s rubbish. We’re rubbish friends.”

“Hey, hey now,” Jimmy says, lifting his voice to address the group, “this wasn’t anyone’s fault, okay? You guys have been great friends to Tango- otherwise, he wouldn’t have stuck around for so long, right? It’s- it’s just his way, to try and deal with things on his own without askin’ for help. You know that.”

Cleo exhales slowly. “Yeah, I know. Still sucks.”

“Yeah.” Jimmy glances over at Impulse, who seems to have recovered himself back to normal, sitting cross-legged next to Bdubs. “You alright, Impulse?”

Impulse gives a slight nod, expression guilty. “I’m sorry. I- I almost never lose control like that, I just got so angry… not at Tango!” he quickly clarifies. “Never at him. I- I just… thinking about what they did to him, everything he went through…”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Bdubs murmurs, squeezing Impulse’s hand. “That’s- it’s freaking crazy, right? With th- hyaugh, evil Hels world, puttin’ people in uh, in farms… sheesh.”

“Yeah, it’s alright,” Jimmy assures him. “I know you didn’t mean anythin’ by it. I’m sure Tango does, too, he was just so on-guard the whole time… he just got spooked, that’s all.”

“Jimmy,” Pearl says urgently, fluttering over to him while tailed by her small pack of wolves, “d’you know- uh, is- is everythin’ Tango said true?” she asks, concerned.

Jimmy swallows. “It’s true. I mean, I- I didn’t know about the farm specifically, but based on what I overheard Atlas say- it makes sense.” He rubs the back of his neck. “And gosh, I didn’t know how awful Hels was, but the way Bravo talked about it…”

“But, um…” Bdubs pipes up hesitantly. “Just- just ‘cause Tango is Bravo’s… uh, Hels… doppelgänger, whatever… doesn’t mean he’s evil, right?”

“I know!” Jimmy cries, throwing his hands up. “That’s what I’ve been tryin’ to tell him! He doesn’t believe it. He thinks he’s a monster for what he did, killin’ those guys and burnin’ down the ranch.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Martyn scoffs. He’s coaxed a still-seething Ren to lay down now, absentmindedly stroking Ren’s ears as his head rests in Martyn’s lap while Bigb starts to braid his hair. “It was self-defense, yeah? A bunch of strangers invaded your home, and he defended it. There’s nothin’ wrong with that.”

Jimmy has a feeling it’s more to do with how Tango killed them and how the fire got started, plus the fact that Jimmy got hurt in the process. But Tango didn’t share those particular details, so Jimmy’s not about to now. Besides, in his opinion, that doesn’t change anything.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he says ruefully. “But he still blames himself for what happened. For all of it.”

“Well, that’s stupid,” Cleo deadpans. Then she pauses. “Or- sorry, his feelings aren’t stupid, but I- I hope he knows that none of us feel that way.”

There are exclamations of agreement and similar sentiments from the rest of the group, which helps ease some of the tightness in Jimmy’s chest. He knows his friends, and knows they’re all good people who wouldn’t judge Tango like that, but it’s been hard not to let Bravo’s words get to him.

“I’ll tell him,” Jimmy promises them. “I’ll try to make him understand, he just- I think he’s always been afraid this day would come, that he’s just been tickin’ down borrowed time.”

“What d’you mean?” Grian asks, rising to his feet. “It’s not like he knew they were coming, right?”

Jimmy shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so. It’s more like… he’s always had that possibility hanging over him.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” Impulse says quietly. “The first time he saw a communicator portal open, you would’ve thought he was being sent to his death. It… makes sense, looking back now.” He puts his head in his hands, sighing. “Man, there were so many signs…”

Grian walks over, pulling his communicator out. “So hang on, the world itself is called Hels, yeah?”

“Yeah, why?” Jimmy asks.

Grian doesn’t respond, silently scanning his comm with his brows knit in concentration. And then something very strange happens. For a moment, it almost seems as if Grian’s eyes flash purple, and Jimmy hears his voice in his head.

(There it is. Hm, firewalled. Gonna be tricky.)

Then Grian pushes his glasses back up, and it passes.

“Right,” he says briskly, putting his comm away. “I can’t find the world, so the portal thing checks out. But since Tango’s cut this meeting a bit short, do you have any other information? Anything the Hels guys might’ve said or done that we should know about?”

Jimmy blinks. Grian’s just looking at him expectantly, giving no indication that there’s anything out of sorts. Jeeze, he’s used to having random thoughts, but the stress of everything must really be getting to him if he’s imagining his friend’s voices, now.

“Um, actually,” Jimmy says, “the collar they put on Tango… he said it’s using some sort of… modified wither rose to dampen his fire? It’s uh, also dampening our soulbond.” He clears his throat, glancing away. “As a- as a fun little side effect.”

“Have you tried removing it yet?” Etho asks, stepping around Impulse with his hands in his pockets.

“I did, earlier,” Impulse chimes in from the ground. “Just with my hands, but uh, he acted like it was hurting him.”

Jimmy nods. “Yeah, Atlas locked it on him with a key, and I’m pretty sure he still had it when he left. So I think that might be the way to get it off.”

“Well,” Joel cuts in, straightening up from where he’d been leaning over Impulse’s shoulder, “surely not the only way, right? I mean, you could always…” He makes a noncommittal noise, and draws a finger across his neck.

Jimmy bristles, wings flaring out. “What, decapitate my soulmate?!”

Joel holds up his hands. “Hey, hey, we don’t know if that thing’ll respawn on him!”

“His cuffs do!” Jimmy points out.

“Yeah, but isn’t it worth a shot?” Joel counters.

“I… I guess,” Jimmy relents, letting his feathers smooth back down. “But I’d rather look into a few other options before jumpin’ straight to decapitation, if you don’t mind. Tango’s been through enough as it is.”

Joel backs off. “Alright, fair enough.” 

“Okay…” Grian turns to address the rest of the group. “Well, um… this has been an interesting revelation, to say the least. I think we’re gonna have to do a bit more research to figure out how they got here before we just… open the world back up. So that means we’ll all be stuck here a bit longer, is that- is that okay with everyone?”

“Yes, yes of course,” Bdubs says vehemently.

“Yeah,” Impulse agrees, “whatever it takes.”

Further murmurs of assent ring out from among the group. Everywhere Jimmy looks, he sees faces full of sympathy and understanding, not a single trace of resentment or annoyance to be found. God, he loves his friends.

“Thanks, guys, I appreciate it,” he says gratefully. “I’m gonna go check on Tango, but we’ll keep you updated if anythin’ changes.”

“Right, okay then.” Grian claps his hands together. “Uh- I guess that’s all for now?”

Nodding, Jimmy turns and takes to the sky, leaving spawn behind him.

His mind is still reeling from all the heavy revelations, his stomach twisted up into knots, but he’s at least comforted by knowing that his friends are behind them. Seems that the fears Bravo tried to instill were completely unfounded, nothing more than vicious, desperate attempts to sow division between Tango and the others. Jimmy really shouldn’t have doubted them.

(That went… surprisingly well.)

(Give it time.)

‘Oh, shove off,’ Jimmy thinks.

~*~

He finds Tango back at the spare room in Impulse and Bdubs’s house.

Thank goodness for that. He hadn’t exactly been sure if Tango would consider this a safe place to go. But with the ranch destroyed and the world on lockdown, it’s not like he has a lot of options.

Tango’s sitting on the bed with his back to Jimmy. At a glance, he seems relaxed, but his legs are curled under him in a way that’d allow him to spring up in an instant. And the way his pointed ears swivel back toward Jimmy tells him Tango is quite alert.

(So deceiving…)

“Hey, Tango,” Jimmy says softly. “You alright?”

“Oh, hey.” Tango doesn’t turn around just yet, shrugging a shoulder. “Sure, yeah.”

Jimmy lingers by the bed for a moment, uncertain. “Um, Impulse didn’t mean to lose his temper like that,” he offers. “He wasn’t mad at you, he was mad at the situation, that’s all.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Just, in the moment- I- I- thought…” Tango sighs. “Anyway. So- so I guess I should head out, huh?”

Jimmy’s stomach drops. “What? What’re you sayin’?”

“It’s over, right?” Tango asks, his voice tight, shoulders hunched by his ears. “They don’t want me around, and I don’t blame ‘em. I mean, once Grian opens the world again, it’s only a matter of time before another portal from Hels opens up. And- and who’d want to go through all that again, right? So don’t worry, I get it, it was my fault, so-”

“No, Tango, I promise- none of them blame you, alright?” Jimmy sits down on the bed- not too close. “None of them believe what Bravo was sayin’ about you. None of them think you’re some… some evil monster that deserves to be locked up in Hels.”

Tango finally turns around. His body is coiled with all the tension of a drawn arrow. “That’s ‘cause they didn’t see me- what I did- back at the ranch,” he says sharply. “They don’t know the whole story.”

Jimmy rubs the back of his neck, exhaling slowly. He knew Tango would hold that against himself. “Well, I do, and I-”

“No, you don’t.”

Jimmy blinks. “Wh- oh, you mean the Helsknight thing?” he asks, furrowing his brows. “Look, honestly, based on what you told Bravo, I don’t blame you for doing that. You were just scared you’d get sent back, that doesn’t make you evil. I know you-”

“No, you don’t,” Tango says again, more intently. “You don’t know everything about me, Jimmy.”

Jimmy’s stomach drops. “Wha’d’you mean?”

Tango smiles without humor, a hard look in his eye. “You wanna know why I like making those- those crazy mob farms? Why I try to kill them in creative, fun ways?” He tilts his head. “Because I like it. I like to make their deaths entertaining. I’ll even sacrifice efficiency for it, I’ll go out of my way to do it. And I- it doesn’t stop there, I’ll kill passive mobs for no reason. Cats, frogs, things that don’t even have drops, for absolutely no reason. That’s not normal.”

Despite himself, Jimmy feels a chill run down his spine. “That’s not… those are just mobs, it’s- it’s not evil…”

(Are you sure about that?)

Tango exhales sharply- a short, bitter laugh. “Okay. You know why practically all my mini games end in death? Huh? You wanna guess?”

Distress shoots through Jimmy. “Tango-”

“I like to watch players die, too,” Tango says. “And I like it to be entertaining. I enjoy it, that’s- that’s just plain sadistic.” He rakes his claws through his hair. “That’s what I am, I’m a- a sadistic monster, okay, I always have been.”

“Stop it, don’t say that!” Jimmy protests, his heart twisting. “You’re not- people actually sign up for those games, you know. And it’s not like death is permanent, it doesn’t matter-”

“So?” Tango interrupts harshly. He jumps off the bed and starts pacing. “What- does that make any difference? Doesn’t matter if people enjoy them, okay, my- my reason for making them is wrong. Designing games is fun, sure, but I- that’s never what it’s been about. I like to make players struggle, and suffer, and die in the end. I like to watch them experience pain and fear in a trap of my own creation. I like the feeling of control it gives me. No matter how you look at it, that’s- I- I’m messed up.”

Jimmy can’t take this anymore. He rises to his feet. “Tango, stop, that’s enough,” he says, his voice stern. “I know I haven’t known you very long, but-”

“Yeah,” Tango snaps, rounding on Jimmy, “you haven’t! That’s the whole problem! I’ve kept a huge chunk of my life secret from you, my own soulmate. I’ve kept it from the Hermits, too- my friends of nearly a decade. I’ve deceived and lied to everyone I ever cared about. I’ve pretended to be this- this benevolent game maker who just wants everyone to have a good time, I’ve kept so much of who I really am hidden ‘cause I knew that if you guys ever saw the real me, you’d hate me.”

Jimmy’s mind is reeling. Tango’s clever eye for game design is something Jimmy’s always loved about him, the way he could create fun challenges even amidst the throes of a death game. After all, the first time they really interacted was when Jimmy died to his ‘Dare to Flare’ challenge back on the Third Life world. And that had been a laughably simple game compared to some of the things he’s done on Hermitcraft.

Even though it ended up costing Jimmy a life, the rush of adrenaline had been thrilling. And even though in hindsight, he knew it was a deliberate ploy by Tango to thin out his competitor’s lives, Jimmy’s never resented him for it.

So to suddenly realize there might’ve been more to it… that Tango might’ve actually enjoyed watching him burn to death- beyond the simple satisfaction of having outsmarted his competition, of course- is… unsettling, to say the least.

(What a start to a relationship!)

(The red flags have been there from day one.)

(A sadist and a liar, lucky you.)

But nevertheless, Jimmy holds his ground. “I don’t hate you.”

Tango tenses. “You should.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” Jimmy insists. “I love you, Tango.”

“No, you don’t!” Tango snarls, and the hurt in his voice is raw and ragged and bleeding. His eyes are burning with rage, and Jimmy’s almost certain that if it weren’t for the collar, he’d be on fire right now. “Alright? Just shut up! You love this- this version of me that I’ve presented, okay, this lie I’ve been living. You love Tango the friendly redstoner, who makes ridiculous high-pitched noises when he’s flustered and who’s funny when he’s mad and who can’t fight his way out of a one-block hole. You don’t love the sadistic blaze hybrid that sets things on fire and- and rips people’s throats out with his fucking teeth, don’t be stupid!”

The silence that follows is deafening.

(And there it is!)

(Finally showing his true colors.)

(He did try to tell you…)

For a moment, Jimmy is too stunned to speak. Tango’s never yelled at him before, not seriously, and the sting of his words is almost a physical thing.

Tango seems just as shocked at his outburst as Jimmy is, his face paling as his anger quickly extinguishes. The next words out of Tango’s mouth are almost guaranteed to be an apology, but Jimmy isn’t letting him off that easily.

“Now hang on just a second,” Jimmy says lowly. “You don’t get to tell me how I feel about you. I’m a grown player. I’m not some poor, innocent idiot that you’ve manipulated into loving you, alright? And it hurts that you’d think so little of me, that I’d stand here and just lie about my feelings to you.”

(Ooh, someone finally grew a backbone-)

Jimmy silences the thought, violently forcing it out of his mind. He’s got no patience for that sort of thing right now.

“I’m sorry,” Tango whispers, “I didn’t-”

“And what’s more,” Jimmy continues, gaining steam, “do you really think I’m the type of person to judge someone so harshly for things outta their control? You honestly think I’m some- some shallow, heartless jerk who’d turn on you, just like that? Or- for that matter, you think the Hermits would? After ten years of friendship, you have that little faith in them?”

Tango’s eyes widen. “No, no it’s- it’s not like that,” he says quickly. “I didn’t mean-”

“I don’t care that you’re from Hels,” Jimmy presses, taking a step forward. “I don’t care what you did in the past, or that you kept it from me. I don’t care if some random guy thinks you’re just the manifestation of all his evil- frankly, I think that says more about him than it does about you.” He comes to a stop in front of Tango. “I love you. The teeth, the claws, the death fascination or- or whatever you wanna call it- I love all of it. All of you. And I wish more than anythin’ they hadn’t got that damn collar on you, so you could feel that love through our soulbond. But you’ve felt it before, right? Before I knew? Well um, it hasn’t changed, I promise you that.”

Tango stares back up at him. Now that the anger’s gone, he just looks scared. “You don’t-” His voice breaks. “You can’t.”

“Yes, I do,” Jimmy answers, unwavering. As difficult as this conversation has been, this part’s easy. “I promise, cross my heart.”

Tango shudders, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “Please,” he whispers, “don’t… I can’t- if I let myself think that but you don’t mean it, I- I can’t handle that. Please. Just tell me now, okay, get it over with…”

Understanding settles over Jimmy. Creasing his brows, he takes a slow, deliberate step forward. “I mean it,” he says, lifting a hand to cup Tango’s cheek.

Tango trembles, but he doesn’t move away. He swallows, licks his lips. “Say it again?” he asks, almost a plea, his eyes darting to take in every inch of Jimmy’s face- like he’s unsure whether he can truly believe what he’s seeing, almost searching for any hint, any trace of doubt in Jimmy’s expression.

There isn’t any. Jimmy leans in. “I love you.”

Something glimmers in Tango’s eyes; a warm light Jimmy hasn’t seen since before the ranch burned. 

Something like hope.

Love rises inside Jimmy like a wave- love and the sorrow of shared grief, the fierce determination to withstand it, and the agony of all the past suffering he can’t take away. It’s overwhelming and exhilarating, this sudden rush of emotion. A whirling maelstrom that makes his head spin. But his love burns brightly through it all, a sole lantern against the storm.

Maybe he can’t make Tango believe he’s worthy of love. But he can give it anyway.

Jimmy moves slowly, tilting his face down towards Tango’s. He keeps his eyes open until the very last second, giving Tango plenty of time to move away or say something to stop him, to give any sign at all that he isn’t feeling the same.

There isn’t any. Their lips meet gently, like a familiar greeting. Like the way sunlight falls through the window every morning.

And just like that, the dam breaks. Suddenly Tango’s kissing him back, fervently, pushing against him. Jimmy’s legs hit the bed and buckle, sending him backwards, Tango falling on top of him. His hands cling to Jimmy’s shirt, twisting in the fabric, and his tears wet Jimmy’s face, salt on his tongue. Above the pounding of his heart in his ears, he can just make out the words Tango’s murmuring between kisses, breathless and desperate.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I love you.”

Jimmy pulls him impossibly closer, whispering, “I never doubted.”

They don’t need words after that.

~*~

“Jeeze, they weren’t kidding,” Tango mutters, taking in the ranch with wide eyes.

The ranch looks even worse than Jimmy had been imagining. Nearly the entire first floor is gone, just a wide-open plot and their lonely front door sitting ajar. Aside from the odd block here and there, it’s just empty. A couple trapdoors from the furniture in the living room. The smooth stone slabs that made up their kitchen countertops. An occasional unbroken glass pane floating where there used to be windows.

It’s not a home anymore, not by any stretch of the imagination.

Up the intact cobblestone staircase, the second floor has only fared slightly better. Some of the walls are still standing, charred and moth-eaten as they are. He thinks most of the bathroom’s interior was spared, as it was primarily made of different stone materials. Polished andesite and the like. The chests in their storage room made it, of course, even though the room itself didn’t. And their bedroom seems to have gotten the worst of it. From down here, he thinks it might just be the bed itself that’s left.

The roof is gone, leaving their cobblestone chimney awkwardly sticking up from the ground to nowhere. The path up to the house and the surrounding fields have been torn up to make a ditch. Necessary as it was, it’s quite the eyesore. And to top it all off, one of the custom trees that Scar helped build has been hastily chopped down, due to its proximity to the nearby forest. There’s just a couple of logs and solitary leaves left floating in the air.

It hurts. Everywhere Jimmy looks, there’s another source of heartache. Another precious memory that’s been turned to ash. It’s almost enough to bring tears to his eyes.

But he’s also aware of Tango standing beside him. He knows how much Tango is already beating himself up for the fire, and the last thing he wants to do is add to that guilt.

Jimmy turns to give Tango a rueful grin. “Talk about your fixer-uppers, ey?”

Tango exhales slowly. “Man, it’s so…” He glances at Jimmy, expression pinched. “I’m sorry, you worked so hard-”

“It’s fine,” Jimmy says, shrugging. “It’s just a building.”

Tango hesitates. “It’s… alright to be upset. This was our home, and I- I got all ‘rahhhrr angry-burny rage mode’ on it and-”

“Not your fault,” Jimmy says, voice gentle but firm. He puts a hand on Tango’s shoulder. “If anyone’s to blame, it’s the Hels fellas for attackin’ us in the first place.”

Tango makes a noncommittal noise, scuffing the upturned dirt with his boot. “Sure.”

It’s clear he’s not convinced, but Jimmy leaves it there for now. Their conversation from yesterday is going to take some time to fully sink in. He crosses over to a haphazardly-placed double chest near the front of the ranch and crouches beside it, lifting the lid with a creak.

“Martyn said everything they were able to save is in this chest here, let’s see…” He rummages through the chest’s inventory. A lot of it is random junk; miscellaneous blocks, half-stacks of wheat, dropped weapons and armor from the fight. But there are a few good finds, like some of the clothes from their closet, a couple of flower pots, one of his framed embroidery pieces...

“Oh, hey, look at this!” Jimmy calls excitedly. “My gloves!”

He pulls the gloves out, looking up from the chest to see Tango standing over him. His eyes widen when he sees them- happily surprised at first, and then the familiar dawning of guilt and regret.

“You uh… maybe I should take those back, for now,” Tango says quietly, his ears lowered. “Or- or maybe just forever, yeah.”

“Ey, stop it, no take-backs,” Jimmy chastises him, slipping the gloves on. “Gloves couldn’t have prevented that fire, anyways. And I like wearin’ ‘em, because that way it’s sorta like I’m holdin’ your hand all the time.”

A grin tugs at Tango’s mouth. “Aw, that’s real cheesy, honey,” he teases, even as a faint blush colors his cheeks.

“Yeah, but I mean it,” Jimmy says loftily. “I’m keepin’ them.”

Tango holds his hands up, chuckling. “Alright, alright…” His gaze travels back towards the ranch, up towards the storage room with its rows of chests. “Guess we should still have plenty of materials to rebuild, huh?”

“Should do, yeah,” Jimmy says, straightening up. Having the gloves back is an immediate comfort, despite the fact he’d only gone two days without them. He foldings his arms, gaze sweeping critically over the remains of the ranch. “I guess for now, we’ll just focus on the structure? Y’know, get the place liveable again and worry ‘bout the decor and landscapin’ later…”

“Oh, that’s what you think!”

The loud voice makes them both jump. Jimmy whirls around to see Bdubs- of course, because there’s absolutely no mistaking that voice.

“Bdubs!” Jimmy laughs, clutching his heart. “What- what’re you doin’ here?”

Bdubs puts his hands on his hips. “I- I can’t believe what I’m- ‘no interior decor’, yeah right! You’re not gonna get outta that very- so easy! I tell you!”

Tango snickers. Luckily Bdubs’s sudden appearance hasn’t seemed to cause more than a brief startle. “Oh, yeah? You gonna help out, then, shorty?” 

“Hey!” Bdubs barks incredulously- though it’s clear from his expression he’s not really upset. “I’m tryin’ t- augh, n’you- you stu- yes. Yes, yes, I’m here to help, of course. For goodness sakes. I- how kind, are I! Sweet, kind Bdubs…”

“And handsome, too,” Jimmy adds cheekily.

That makes Bdubs beam, puffing his chest out. “Yeahhh, c’mon baby!”

“Don’t encourage him,” Tango groans.

“Oh, stop it!” Bdubs huffs. “Anyway, Impulse would’ve come, of course, but he and Etho- the redstone guys, you know, uh, they’re havin’ a- a- little chat, little brainy-thing… brainstormin’ ‘bout the portal stuff with Grian. But never thy fear! I saw you guys head out and, in my eternal wiseness, have already called in the forcements!”

Jimmy exchanges an amused look with Tango. “Well, any help is appreciated,” he amends.

“Sure about that, Timmy?” calls Joel’s voice, as the man himself appears over the hill.

And he’s not alone. Cleo’s taller figure looms over him, Scott and Pearl walking on either side of her as a small pack of wolves weave between their legs. The trio is followed by Martyn, Bigb, and Ren- the latter seeming to have recovered his friendly disposition and wagging tail. Finally, Scar emerges from behind a tree to round out the group, calling out a cheerful, “Hello there!”

Joel comes to a stop next to Bdubs and claps him on the shoulder. “We figured you two could use the help, what with you not bein’ builders and all.” Cheeky man.

Jimmy snorts. “Gee, thanks,” he says sarcastically. But slights at their building skills aside, he’s actually quite touched.

Tango blinks. “You guys… all came to help out?” he asks, sounding amazed. 

“Of course!” Bdubs declares. “We ha- we help!”

Cleo shrugs, giving a hapless grin. “You know, I- I- I really don’t know… why Bdubs invited me? I’m not that great a builder. But I can supervise, I guess? And- and heckle. Always heckle.”

“And reach tha’ tall bits,” Scott offers, lightly elbowing her hip.

“And reach the tall bits,” Cleo laughs. “Right. Yes.”

“It’s the least we can do,” Martyn chimes in, slinging an arm around Bigb’s shoulders, “since that portal stuff is way over my head.”

Bdubs pulls a face. “Uh…” He speaks to Jimmy and Tango behind his hand, despite making no effort to lower his voice at all- for comedic effect. “Normally, I would’ve offered my perfect redstone prowess to uh, to help the other guys out with their little portal thing, you know, but eugh- I knew someone would have ta’ keep all these jokers in line.”

“Ah, of course,” Tango replies sagely.

“Well?” Bdubs turns expectantly to the others, throwing his arms up. “Get movin’ then! Sheesh! Stand around, waitin’ for- for no raisin…”

“Yes, my liege,” Cleo drawls, rolling their eyes.

Ren claps his big paws together. “Yeah, we’re burnin’ daylight, my dudes!”

Pearl’s fuzzy wings unfurl from beneath her red cloak. “Let’s see what we’re workin’ with!” she says excitedly, fluttering up to the storage room.

Just like that, the other Double Lifers descend on the husk of the ranch. Placing down temporary chests and crafting benches, sorting through the remaining resources, filling in the ditch with dirt. Multiple conversations start up immediately as everyone sets to a task, and the atmosphere is comfortable- even if a bit strange.

Jimmy can’t recall a time when this many of them have worked on a project together. Not on Third Life, not on Last Life, not here. Something like this just wouldn’t be possible during a death game. Large gatherings between different groups are always fraught with tension and uncertainty, by the fear of a trap or a backstab or a fight breaking out.

But it’s nice. Pearl is hovering above the second floor, working with Cleo to build the walls back up while Scott prepares some stairs and slabs for detailing. Scar and Bdubs are already bickering about how to do the landscaping while Joel grumbles at them, waist-deep in the ditch with Bigb and Martyn placing dirt. Ren’s started tearing down the damaged trees, clearing room for replanting, and Pearl’s wolves mill about, filling the air with curious sniffs and yips.

Tango’s watching the scene unfold with wide eyes, and it suddenly occurs to Jimmy that this is the most people Tango’s been around since the difficult conversation at spawn. Impulse was checking on them throughout the rest of the day, of course, and a few of the other players stopped by now and again, but not in big groups or anything.

Jimmy steps closer to Tango. “Is this okay?” he asks softly.

Tango looks at him in surprise. A smile spreads across his face, and he takes Jimmy’s hand. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “Yeah, it is.”

Jimmy smiles back. “Then let’s get in there.”

~*~

Jimmy lets out a low whistle. “Dang, this looks even better than before!” he says, craning his head to look around the room.

After a full day of building and the gradual dispersal of the other Double Lifers, Jimmy and Tango are now seeing their new bedroom for the first time. They were around for the bulk of the structure building, but once it came time for the interior, Bdubs and Scar had insisted it be a surprise. Everything about it is perfect, from the custom furniture to the quilted wool rug to the fancy frame Scar built around their double-wide bed.

Tango clears his throat. “Maybe, uh- maybe we can just…” He kicks one of the beds with the toe of his boot. “... scooch this over a little…”

“Nope,” Jimmy declares, sweeping Tango off the floor and onto the bed. “Nice try, mate, but you’re stayin’ right here next to me.”

“Okay, okay, fine! I ju- don’t say I didn’t warn you!” Tango huffs, but he’s grinning as he says it.

~*~

“Alright, fellas,” Grian says, clapping his hands together, “here’s what we’ve got so far…”

Jimmy leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Tango is a little tense beside him- probably just nerves. But it could be worse. They’re gathered in the living room of Impulse and Bdubs’s house; Grian perched on the arm of the sectional across from Jimmy and Tango, Impulse and Etho sitting adjacent to them. The familiar setting and fairly limited company seems to have helped put Tango more at ease for what might end up being a tricky conversation.

“We’re... pretty sure we know how the Hels peeps got here,” Grian continues, “but there are a few things we need to clarify, first.” He glances at Etho, inclining his head. “Etho, you wanna explain?”

“Oh yeah, yeah.” Etho stands up. “Tango, may I see your comm, please? I uh, just need to look at it for a minute.”

Tango blinks. Anxiety flashes across his face for just a brief second before disappearing. “Oh. Uh, sure?” He pulls the item from his inventory, holding it out.

Etho takes the communicator. “So,” he begins, sitting back down, “you said that in Hels, players can’t make portals with their communicators, right?”

Tango gives a short nod. “That’s right. That comm isn’t the one I spawned with, they took that from me at Hels Tek. X made me a new one, after I got to Hermitcraft.” He gives a dry laugh. “I told him- I told him I lost it. Which, I mean, that’s- it’s technically not a lie, just... not the whole truth.”

Jimmy gives him a sympathetic look. He might no longer be worried that the others will reject him, but this still can’t be easy to talk about.

Etho studies the communicator, his mismatched eyes narrowed in concentration. “So after you got a new comm, you were able to use it to make portals?”

“Yeah,” Tango says, “it uh, it’s taken me to each Hermitcraft world and everything in between, no problem. Hubs, solo worlds, creative- you name it.”

Etho hums. “Can you use your comm to travel to Hels?”

“No.” Tango glances away. “I’ve looked for it, a few times. Never shows up.”

That brings a couple more questions to mind, but Jimmy files them away for later.

“Interesting.” Etho seems to be delving deep into the communicator’s hardware, typing rapidly. “So uh, the portal issue isn’t centered on players that spawn in Hels, just their communicators. And since overworld communicators can’t find Hels, there must be something about the world itself preventing it.”

Tango knits his brows together. “I suppose…?”

It’s at this point that Grian leans forward. “Have either of you heard about firewalls?” he asks.

Tango shakes his head, but Jimmy’s heart jolts. He has heard that word before; just the other day, when he thought he heard Grian’s voice in his head. But that’s not exactly something Jimmy wants to bring up right now. Or ever, maybe. His weird, random, intrusive thoughts don’t need to be anyone else’s problem.

“Um…” Jimmy pretends to think about it for a moment. “I think I’ve heard the term somewhere before, but I- I dunno what that actually means.”

“Right.” Grian spreads his hands. “So firewalls are a sort of added security measure that admins can use when making a new world. It’s like, an impenetrable barrier ‘round the world that makes it basically impossible for anyone unauthorized to join via portal.”

“Wait, really?” Tango asks, eyes widening. “What- why haven’t I heard about this? Do all worlds have these?”

Grian makes a noncommittal noise. “Well, firewalls are kinda outdated. Developments in server security and comm travel have basically rendered them obsolete. I mean, when’s the last time you heard of a private world being raided, besides ours?” He shrugs. “Plus, it’s a real tedious process to set one up, so they aren’t used often. Mostly for multiplayer worlds that are invite-only, if an admin is particularly concerned about hackers.”

Jimmy holds out a hand. “So wait, hang on, this- what’s this got to do with our situation?”

Impulse catches his eye. “If you try to join a firewalled world without permission, it doesn’t show up on your comm.”

“Oh,” Tango says, realization dawning in his expression. “You think Hels has a firewall?”

“It’s the only thing I can think of,” Grian says, nodding. “However, it’s a bit odd, ‘cause firewalls are usually just one-way… meaning that they keep players out, but they don’t stop players from leaving. So if that’s what’s goin’ on with Hels, it’s a firewall unlike any I’ve ever heard of- where it’s meant to keep players in, too. I’m not exactly sure if that’s why comms made in Hels can’t make portals, or if that’s due to something else entirely, but uh, that’s my best guess.”

Tango runs a hand through his hair. “That’s… I mean, this is the first I’ve heard of firewalls, but that doesn’t sound impossible…”

“So,” Jimmy speaks up hesitantly, “so how did the Hels Tek guys open a portal here?”

“How, indeed?” Etho repeats, finally looking up from Tango’s communicator. “Well, we know the portal was red, not purple. That’s like a comm portal, the way their light syncs up with the world they lead to. But uh, you know, the players coming through had items and armor on them, and they didn’t show up at world spawn. Their spawns didn’t reset, either, they uh- they kept spawning back on the other side. That makes me think this was actually a hacked nether portal, not a comm portal.”

Tango frowns. “Hang on, we- we didn’t have nether portals in Hels, either. I mean, how- there was no point, the nether and the overworld were combined into one realm.”

“Right.” Etho’s got that look in his eye- the glint of an idea about to take off. Jimmy’s seen it in Tango countless times. “You know how nether portals work?”

Tango coughs into his fist. “Oh, right, of course I know all the uh, super technical skadoodle bits, but- but maybe you should go over it.” He jerks his head towards Jimmy and Grian. “You know, for these uh, non-redstone people here.”

“Please do,” Jimmy chuckles.

Etho’s eyes crinkle upwards, like he’s smiling behind his mask. “Basically, they grab the coordinates they’re made on and translate it to nether coords, and vice versa. From what you’ve told me about Hels, being a fusion of the nether and overworld realms, a nether portal couldn’t work ‘cause it’d be like… giving it coords to a place it already is? It’d just crash and never ignite. But if you gave a nether portal frame coordinates to a different place… like, say, a different world…”

Even with Jimmy’s scarce knowledge of portals, it’s easy enough to catch Etho’s meaning.

“That’s crazy,” Tango protests. “How’d they- how could they possibly have gotten coordinates to Double Life?”

“I don’t think they did. I think they got coords to you.” Etho leans forward. “Think about it. The portal didn’t open at spawn, it opened down the hill from the ranch- where you were. I think that was intentional, considering you’re the whole reason they came.”

Jimmy’s mind is spinning. “But... how? And how’d you figure all this out?”

Etho shrugs a shoulder. “Uh, educated guess? Like, just kinda based on the things Bravo said, and what Tango’s told us about Hels and the players it spawns. But um, looking at his comm just now basically confirms it for me.”

“Wait, really?” Tango asks, surprised. “How?”

Etho tilts his head. “Communicators are pretty special items. They’re unique to the player they spawn with- even a replacement communicator like this one. It might not have the hard locks on it that prevent it from summoning portals, but it’s still unique to you. And based on its data, I can tell your player data is a little different. I think it has to do with you being from Hels.”

Tango hesitates. “Okay, and…?”

“If you and Bravo are really counterparts,” Etho says, “then I’d expect your data to be similar. Like, the same word in different languages, in a metaphorical sense. So if Bravo’s data was fed into a nether portal, it’d translate it to your data, and open a portal at your coords. Plus or minus a few blocks, probably.”

Jimmy knits his brows together. “So… you’re sayin’ they used Bravo to open a portal to Tango?” he surmises.

Etho nods. “I’d need Bravo’s comm or a look at his player data to confirm, but that’s my best guess, yeah.” He holds the communicator back out to Tango.

Tango stashes the communicator in his inventory. “So wait, what about- how does the firewall thing factor in, here?” he asks. “If it stops comm portals, wouldn’t it stop a nether portal, too?”

“Yes and no,” Grian answers. “A firewall works by constantly scanning for portals. If it finds one trying to form, it’ll crash it. If a nether portal was used to travel between different worlds, rather than two realms on the same world, a firewall would recognize it all the same.”

“But,” Etho continues, “if they somehow figured out how to stabilize the portal… like, by sending a constant stream of updates… it’d constantly reset the scanner of the firewall. Sort of like an update suppressor. That way, the uh, the firewall can never actually register the portal as a problem and shut it down. So that’d be one way they could keep a hacked nether portal open, even in the face of a firewall.”

Tango exhales slowly. “Okay…” he says, “and how do we stop them from doing that ever again?”

Impulse winces. “That, we’re not sure about. I mean, if Bravo wasn’t there for them to grab a signal from, I guess that’d stop them. However they built a portal, it probably needs his data to function.”

“Oh, well, great.” Tango throws his hands up. “No way he won’t help them again, he hates my guts. Only reason they haven’t come back yet is ‘cause Grian locked the world down, I- I guarantee it. But we can’t just all stay locked in here forever, you’ve all got lives and other worlds to get back to.”

Jimmy frowns, putting a hand on Tango’s shoulder. “Tango, anyone who’s got a problem with you has a problem with all of us.”

“For sure,” Grian agrees.

“Besides,” Impulse says, shrugging, “not to toot our own horns or anything, but I think we handled ourselves just fine against them.”

“You mean Pearl’s wolves handled them,” Tango says flatly. “And you guys had the element of surprise. I guarantee the only reason they went down so easy is ’cause they weren’t expecting much resistance. They show up again, now knowing what they’re up against, and that’s- that’s gonna turn out a whole lot differently.” He crossed his arms. “I need to leave, before Grian opens the world back up.”

“And what, just wait for them to come after you?” Jimmy demands, his wings puffing up. “Absolutely not.”

Tango makes an unhappy noise in the back of his throat. “It’s- you understand it’s only a matter of time, right?” he stresses. “Maybe it won’t be right after Grian lifts the lockdown, okay, maybe it’ll be days, or weeks, or months. Either way, it’ll happen eventually, and when it does… whether it’s- if that happens here, or back on Hermitcraft, or the next Life world... the result will be the same. People I care about will get caught in the crossfire, I- I’m not lettin’ that happen again.”

Jimmy pauses, wings drooping. The distress in Tango’s voice is sobering. There’s no question that Tango cares fiercely about his friends, and the guilt for putting them in harm’s way must be staggering. But still, he insists, “We don’t mind stayin’ put-”

“For how long, though?” Tango asks pointedly. “I can’t ask you guys to stay here forever. Like, I- I can’t stress enough how obsessive Atlas is. He came for me after ten years, okay, he’s not gonna just give up or lose interest. There will always be the risk of them opening another portal to me, so long as Bravo is in Hels.”

“So what if Bravo wasn’t in Hels?” Impulse cuts in.

Tango gives him a confused look. “What do you mean?”

Impulse’s eyes are alight with excitement as he gains steam with his idea. “What if we went to Hels and got him out? That way, he’s not mad at you for being stuck there anymore, right, and Hels Tek can’t use him to make another portal.”

“What, you mean we open a portal to Hels?” Tango asks, raising his eyebrows. “I- I thought we already established that our comms can’t take us there, what- how are we supposed to get there?”

“The same way they got here,” Etho says. “We use your data to open a hacked nether portal to Bravo. Ahah.”

As intimidating as the prospect of encountering Hels Tek again is, Jimmy has to admit it’s probably the only solution. They can’t just ignore the problem and hope it goes away, not if it means Tango could get randomly attacked at any moment. And with all of the Double Lifers together, they stand a much better chance of succeeding.

“That’s a great idea!” Jimmy exclaims. “We grab him, shake Atlas down for the key to the collar while we’re at it, and get out. Problem solved.”

Tango doesn’t seem nearly as enthused. “No way. Absolutely no way. That’s- that’s way too dangerous, if you guys get stranded there- and Atlas is already looking for more hybrids to make farms with, he was about to take Jimmy for a feather farm!”

A brief silence follows this revelation.

Grian grimaces, ruffling his wings. “Oh, woof.”

“What?” Impulse asks, taken aback. “That’s why he had Jimmy chained up, too?”

Jimmy blinks. “Oh, is that what he meant?”

“What’d you th- you didn’t know?” Tango asks incredulously.

Jimmy holds his hands up. “Hey, hey, I didn’t spend much time thinkin’ about what he said to me!” he says sheepishly. “I was more concerned about you.”

Tango pinches the bridge of his nose. “Oh. Oh, great. Well yeah, that’s what he wanted you for, to stick you in a feather farm skadoodler for all eternity.”

Jimmy swallows. No wonder Tango’s been so against the idea of them going against Hels Tek again. Death is no big deal- they’d simply respawn. Few injuries cause lasting damage. But being trapped in a farm like that, with no means to escape…

“Well,” he says, “that still doesn’t change my mind. You’re his number one target, okay, you can’t go without backup.”

“No,” Tango huffs. “Let me do it. I- I know Bravo shouldn’t just be left there forever, but that’s not your guys’ faults! It’s my life, my mistake, you guys shouldn’t be putting yourselves at risk like that-”

“Tango,” Jimmy interrupts, “we’re not gonna make a portal to Hels and just send you through alone-”

“Well, I’m not letting you guys come with me!” Tango shoots back. “Most of you guys are hybrids or monsters, too, and I’m not gonna risk Atlas turning you into farms.”

Grian clicks his tongue. “Ey, we wouldn’t let that happen.”

“Yeah,” Jimmy says, “and what’s the alternative? You just take off to some solo world until Hels Tek comes a’knockin’?”

Tango shrugs. “I mean, I’d be fine with that-”

“No,” Jimmy says firmly. “I’m not lettin’ that happen. This is our only option, to put this problem to bed forever, and we stand the best chance if we do it together. We have to take it.” He grabs Tango’s hand. “Please, Tango.”

Tango hesitates, staring at their intertwined hands.

Now more than ever, Jimmy desperately wishes that he had some sense of what Tango’s thinking- even just the slightest insight to his thoughts, the faintest impression of an emotion through their soulbond. Especially since he’s had his confidence in reading Tango so thoroughly shaken over the last week. It’s scary to consider that he might not know Tango nearly half as well as he should, that Tango can so effectively mask his true feelings even from him.

“... fine,” Tango says, after a small eternity. “Fine, okay, we- let’s plan an invasion to Hels, sure.”

Jimmy gasps. “Really?”

“But,” Tango says warningly, “we gotta go about this extremely carefully, alright? No willy-nilly ‘rushing in blindly without a plan’ nonsense. And- and once we’re there, if at any point I tell you guys to flee, you- you best be fleein’, got it? With extra flee. No stupid heroics of noble stupidness.”

It’s a chance. That’s better than nothing. “Yes, alright!” Jimmy cheers. “Thank you!”

(Yay, we’re going to Hels- said no one ever.)

(Do they know what they’re getting into?)

(Oh boy, here we go.)

Etho shrugs. “Whatever you say, Tango, you’re the uh, you’re the Hels expert, here.”

Impulse folds his arms. “That’s a dirty condition you kinda tacked on the end, there,” he mutters, “but I’ll accept it.”

“Alright then.” Tango gives a tired sigh, but the corners of his mouth are curling into a smile. “I- I guess we’re doin’ this. We’ve got some room in the basement at the ranch, we can build it there.”

“Excellent.” Grian grins. “Let’s build a portal to Hels, fellas.”

~*~

Jimmy’s startled awake by a shout.

Heart pounding, he squints into the dark room. As his eyes struggle to adjust in the scarce light, he can just barely make out Tango sitting upright in bed. His rapid, shallow breaths wheeze through clenched teeth, faint sparks emitting from his dim blaze rods as they try to ignite.

“Tango,” Jimmy whispers, sitting up, “you okay?”

Tango’s breathing hitches. Then he turns to collapse against Jimmy’s chest, clinging fiercely to his shirt. His entire body is trembling. “Nightmare,” he manages to get out.

Jimmy’s heart twists. He knew it was only a matter of time, but that doesn’t make it any easier to see. Gently, he wraps his arms around Tango, then his wings for good measure. “I got ya,” he murmurs. “I’m here.”

Tango tucks his face against Jimmy’s shoulder and falls silent. Maybe he’ll want to talk about it in the morning, maybe he won’t. But for now, Jimmy just holds him, and hopes that’s enough.

~*~

Jimmy stares at the redstone circuitry laid out before him. “I understand none of this.”

Though it’s only been a few days since they started work on the portal, they’ve already made a lot of progress. Impulse and Etho have been over basically around the clock, with Bdubs and Joel tagging along more often than not. They’ll watch the redstoners work until they get bored, and inevitably wander upstairs to bug Jimmy. Grian checks in on them every now and then, and the other Double Lifers have popped by for little visits, so it’s been a lot of activity at the ranch. Lots of people coming and going.

It’s strange, but not necessarily in a bad way. Almost like an actual pleasant community feeling. Neighbors helping neighbors and all that.

A dedicated digging session has left them with a bit more space in the basement, allowing them to section off a separate room from Tango’s sugar cane farm. They finished it with a stone floor and simple wooden walls at Bdubs’s insistence (he considered it unacceptable to just leave it all as freshly-dug dirt). An obsidian portal frame (complete with corners at Etho’s insistence) stands empty against the back wall, leaving abundant floor space for the redstone- of which there is plenty.

Redstone dust wires criss-cross through rows of repeaters and hopper lines. It’s all far beyond Jimmy’s capacity to understand, of course, but even Tango seems a bit baffled. He’s claimed many times that his understanding of redstone is surface-level at best, and that his real skill comes in applying the various components and systems in creative ways. But he’s at least been able to help with the construction, the actual placing of redstone components.

“Right,” Tango laughs, running a hand through his hair. “Let’s- lemme see if I’ve got this right…” He points at a long line of redstone dust. “Main circuit to the portal.”

Impulse nods. “Yep.” 

Tango steps gingerly around the redstone, gesturing towards a rather complex looking amalgamation of observers and comparators. “This nonsense over here will turn my skadoodle bits into a fireable signal.”

Etho, leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets, chuckles. “Pretty much.”

“And this,” Tango waves at the hoppers, “will count out the final coords before they hop on the main bus line to the portal.”

Jimmy nods hesitantly. “Okay… okay, cool, so- so is it done, then?”

“Not quite,” Impulse says. “We need a player detector.”

Tango creases his brows together. “What, like a- like a pufferfish? A skulk sensor?”

“No, more like a- a whole separate system,” Etho explains. “It’s more than just registering your presence. We need something that can read your data, pick out your coordinates, and send them to the portal for translation to Bravo.”

Tango exhales slowly. “That… sounds pretty complicated.”

“Oh, it will be,” Impulse says, folding his arms. “I mean, just think about how much data each player contains, right, all the codes that dictate our behavior and biology… we don’t wanna overload this thing, so it’ll require some heavy-duty filtering.”

“Not only that,” Etho continues, “but uh, if that firewall thing turns out to be a problem, we’re gonna have to figure out a way to stabilize the portal, too. That’ll take some tinkering with different power sources til we find the exact right input to override the firewall’s checker.”

Jimmy winces; he’d been hoping for a quicker solution. It’s already been over a week since the invasion, and he knows Tango hates being stalled. The sooner they get this problem taken care of, the sooner they can stop worrying and get back to their normal lives. Jimmy himself doesn’t have anywhere else to be, but the other Double Lifers do. And even if they don’t mind the unexpected stay-cation, it definitely bothers Tango that their lives have been disrupted for his sake. Goodness knows he’s already got enough of a guilt complex.

But Tango simply gives a bemused smile. “Well, let’s get started, then.”

~*~

“Are we really sure we wanna do this?”

Jimmy winces at Tango’s tone. “I know, I know,” he says regretfully, “it wasn’t my favorite idea either. But if it can get that collar off’a you, we gotta try, right?”

Trying to remove the collar manually had resulted in a sharp, shooting pain through Tango’s neck at the slightest movement. Trying to remove it with redstone had proven unsuccessful- clearly, it was designed to be insulated against any outside signals. Trying to pick the lock had resulted in nothing but a lot of frustration. So that left them with their last resort.

They’ve moved outside, round the back of the ranch, to avoid getting blood stains all over their newly refurbished house. A random bed has been placed down to provide them with a quick and easy respawn, their items temporarily stowed in a chest. Impulse holds a Sharpness V sword, tail flicking as he watches them apprehensively.

“I’m only gonna do this if you’re okay with it,” he tells Tango seriously. “We can go back to the drawing board, come up with some other things to try…”

“No, no,” Tango shakes his head, “I don’t- you shouldn’t be wasting time on this, you’re already working pretty much nonstop on the portal.”

The frustration in his voice is evident. Impulse frowns. “I don’t mind…”

“Well, I do!” Tango says, crossing his arms and glancing away.

Jimmy exchanges a look with Impulse before putting a gentle hand on Tango’s shoulder. “I know there’s a chance it won’t work,” he starts quietly, “and we’ll have killed ourselves for nothin’. No one likes gettin’ their head cut off. But it’ll be over quick, we’ll respawn straight back here, and then at least we’ll know we tried everything.”

Tango makes a noncommittal noise. “Hey, I- I’m not afraid of a little decapitation, alright, I just… I feel kinda bad putting you through this, you know?” Guilt creeps into his expression. “It’s not your neck that the stupid thing is stuck on. You shouldn’t have to-”

“We’re in this together,” Jimmy tells him steadily. “So if you’re willin’ to try it, I’m happy to die along with ya.”

Tango manages a faint laugh. “Jeeze, honey, you- you don’t have to make it sound so dramatic. We aren’t on a three-life system anymore.”

Jimmy shrugs. “Well, that’s how I feel! Honestly, if there’s even a chance this’ll get that thing off’a you, I’m down.”

“Alright.” Tango takes a quick, steadying breath. “Okay, I wanna try.” He glances at Impulse. “Uh- commence the chop-ificating, then, I guess.”

Impulse nods; he’s keeping his expression and general demeanor calm, reassuring. “Okay, then. So here’s what I’m gonna do…” He carefully sets the edge of his blade along the rim of Tango’s collar, so that the metal is just barely touching skin, and then pinches the collar between the fingers of his other hand. “I’ll give it one quick, clean slice, and try to pull the collar off your body, okay?”

Tango tilts his chin up. “Okay,” he whispers. He’s nervous, now; every muscle in his body is rigid.

Jimmy reaches for his hand. “I’ll be right there with ya.”

Impulse tightens his grip on the sword. “Tango, gimme a countdown whenever you’re ready.”

“Alright.” Tango exhales shakily, closing his eyes. “Five... four... three... two...”

Jimmy closes his eyes and squeezes Tango’s hand.

“One.”

Pain slices across Jimmy’s neck- an intense, searing burn, like he’s swallowed a bucket of lava. There’s a rush of vertigo, the world spinning off-kilter around him. He’s instantly thrust into darkness, that all-consuming void with which he’s rather familiar.

And then it’s over. He’s back, sitting on the bed with Tango in a piled heap of limbs. 

Jimmy sucks in a breath. Now that everything’s stopped spinning, he can see that the collar is still around Tango’s neck.

“Oh, babe,” he murmurs, sweeping Tango into a hug. “I’m sorry.”

Tango’s laugh is muffled against his shoulder. “Worth a shot, right?”

Impulse, standing a few feet away and holding a bloody sword, looks dismayed. “No good,” he says as he walks over, putting the sword away. “Your body respawned before I could pull the collar off. But uh, that’s… not the only issue.”

That makes Tango look over. “What is it?”

“I caught a look at the inner face of it,” Impulse says, frowning, “the part that’s actually touching your skin? And, um… it looks like there’s a bunch of little… spikes on the inside of the collar?”

“Spikes?” Jimmy repeats, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah, I don’t know how else to describe them?” Impulse rubs the back of his neck. “Um, they’re black in color, not super big... probably thinner than my pinky finger but not like, needles or anything…”

“Oh.” Tango blinks. “It’s the thorns. They’re wither rose thorns. That’s how it works.”

Jimmy’s heart jolts. “What?”

Tango spreads his hands. “When Atlas locked the collar, it must’ve caused a- a bunch of thorns to pop out and dig into my neck. But they aren’t- they don’t have the full strength of wither rose, so that’s why I’m not getting the full wither effect, and after a while, you know, they sorta- they numb the area, so I don’t feel them. But when we start yanking on the collar, it forces them deeper into my skin, so it hurts.”

“Oh... my gosh,” Jimmy breathes, aghast. “That’s- that’s horrible!”

The whole concept of the collar is already inhumane- to treat a fellow sentient player like a simple animal. But this? This is just plain evil. 

Impulse seems to be trying very hard not to get upset again. “Well, then,” he says, voice tight. “That rules out my next suggestion, which was to just go at it with a few sharp axes. I don’t wanna like, hammer those thorns deeper into your neck...” His expression turns thoughtful. “What if we try and get something sharp between your neck and the collar, slice off the thorns all the way around? Then we could-”

“No,” Tango interrupts. “Look, I- I appreciate the help, but if we tweak this thing the wrong way, it could probably jab an artery, or puncture my trachea, and then I’d respawn and be right back at square one again! No, I- I think we’re done.”

Impulse looks like he wants to argue, but Jimmy catches his gaze, giving him an imploring look. 

“Alright,” Impulse relents. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

“Yeah,” Jimmy says, “we’ll get that collar off, I promise.”

“It’s fine.” Tango’s avoiding Jimmy’s eyes. “It... might not be the worst thing, you know, to have my fire locked down. Considering our fancy new house and all.”

Oh, they can’t have that. Jimmy puts a hand on his shoulder. “Tango,” he says seriously, “your fire is a part of you, and I’m not gonna rest til we’ve got it back.”

Tango sighs, but when he looks up, his eyes are fond. “I know.”

Impulse exhales slowly. “Do you... wanna try and get the cuffs off, then?” he offers.

“What?” Tango jolts. “Why? They aren’t hurtin’ anything.”

Impulse holds up his hands. “Hey, it’s okay, I just thought... if they’re from that terrible place, maybe you’d wanna get rid of ‘em?”

“And y’know,” Jimmy chimes in, “it’d be a lot easier for someone else to crack them off ya, couple good swings with an axe, maybe…”

“That won’t work,” Tango says stiffly. “They’ve been on me for so long now, been through so many respawns that if I’m not the one to remove them, it- they’ll just keep coming back.” 

Impulse inhales through his teeth, understanding dawning in his eyes. “Oh, man.”

“Are you sure?” Jimmy asks, his heart sinking. He isn’t overly familiar with the universal rules that determine what does and doesn’t respawn along with a player, but Tango seems pretty certain.

“Yeah. They’re basically part of my data now.”

“Oh.”

The unspoken question is glaringly obvious: ‘why haven’t you removed them yet, then?’ The cuffs seem just as well-made as the collar, but surely there’s a way to cut through them. At least, he should’ve been able to find a way sometime during the last ten years- even if he wasn’t comfortable asking any of the Hermits to help him.

But Jimmy can tell Tango’s already hit his limit for today. It’s a subject he’s always avoided discussing in the past, so they’ll just have to wait until he’s ready.

(Oh, gonna make that mistake again?)

‘Shut up,’ Jimmy thinks.

~*~

“Need some help, hun?”

“Ack!” Jimmy gives a start, accidentally yanking out the feather he’d been teasing. He whirls around. “Tango!”

Tango holds his hands up. “Sorry, sorry!”

“Jeeze,” Jimmy laughs, catching his breath, “I- I thought you guys were still working on the portal!”

“Well, yeah,” Tango says, closing the door behind him, “but Etho thinks we need a redstone ore block and we didn’t have any layin’ around, so he and Impulse went mining.” He crosses over to sit on the bed, curiously studying the feathers strewn about. “Doin’ some preening?”

“Um...” Jimmy ducks his head sheepishly. “Yeah, just- just the uh, burned ones... they’re startin’ to itch.”

Tango gives him a sad smile. “Hey, it’s alright. You don’t have to hide it from me, I- I won’t get all weird mega guilt-trippy about it.”

Jimmy softens. “I just... I know you’ve been beating yourself up about it, that’s all.” He gazes at the burned feather in his hand. “It was an accident. I don’t blame you.”

“I know.” Tango runs a gentle hand over one of Jimmy’s wings. “Can… can I help?”

Jimmy smiles. “Sure.”

~*~ 

“Wait, are you serious?” Tango asks, eyes wide. “You think the portal’s ready to go? Right now?”

Grain nods. “Yeah, I do.”

Jimmy glances between them with raised eyebrows. They’d called Grian over for a little update on the current state of the portal project- now complete with the fancy player detector system that the redstoners have been painstakingly building over the past week. But once Etho explained that the final step was stabilization, Grian had dropped a bomb on them.

“I’ve uh… been doin’ some research,” Grian continues, “and I’m pretty sure that Hels has a firewall that’s just been sorta… inverted? It’s still a one-way barrier, it just stops players from making portals out rather than in. ‘Course, it’s still inaccessible by comm portal, but our little set-up here should circumvent that. Once we’ve gotten the portal to lock onto Bravo’s coords, there shouldn’t be anythin’ stopping it from forming.”

Etho scratches the side of his mask. “Well, if we don’t have to stabilize the portal, that’ll definitely simplify things,” he says. “We might actually have everything we need already.”

“Couldn’t hurt to fire it up,” Impulse agrees, glancing at Tango. “Just to give it a little test drive? If we do get a portal open, we can easily shut it down right after. We don’t have to actually go through it.”

Tango hesitates. “But wouldn’t Grian have to lift the lockdown?”

“Yeah, I will,” Grian amends. “But I’ve actually just finished settin’ up a firewall, so when I lift the lockdown, we’ll still be protected. We’ll be able to leave through any portal we want, but no one else can get in without bein’ on the whitelist.”

“Wait, really?” Tango looks surprised. “Why- did you let the others know? I- I’m sure they’ll wanna get back to their other worlds.”

“Ey, I only just finished it!” Grian defends. “I wanted to let you lot know first, so there wouldn’t be any panic or confusion if people started randomly leavin’ through portals. I’ll inform the others, but uh, I’m pretty sure they’ll wanna just stick around til we get this done. Especially if the portal’s ready to go. All that’ll be left to do is come up with our plan of attack, and we’ll need all hands on deck for the actual mission.”

“Yeah,” Impulse says easily, “Hermitcraft can wait.”

Tango chews his lip. “I… I guess we can try it,” he relents.

“Great!” Grian pulls his communicator out. “Gimme a second to lift the lockdown, okay…”

Jimmy turns to Tango, taking him by the hands. “Hey, is this alright?” he asks softly. “We don’t have to try it today if you don’t wanna.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright,” Tango assures him, squeezing his hands. “It’s just- it’s a bit sooner than I was expecting, you know? But this is good. I mean, if this works, then this whole business will finally be over.”

Jimmy’s eyes trace the collar around Tango’s neck. “Yeah. And not a moment too soon.”

Obviously they’ve still got a pretty significant task ahead of them. It’ll be no easy feat to storm Hels Tek, not if they’ve got as much muscle backing them up as they did for the invasion. Atlas is one slippery fella, and it might be hard to get Bravo to listen to them long enough to cooperate. But getting the portal in working order is another hurdle down, so they can shift gears towards the impending mission. And once that’s done, there’ll no longer be a threat hanging over them.

Suffice to say, Jimmy’s looking forward to getting back to his domestic bliss.

“Okay,” Grian says, glancing up, “lockdown is officially lifted. Go ahead.”

“Alright, Tango.” Etho pushes away from the wall. “Uh, just hop onto the redstone ore block whenever you’re ready, I guess? Everything should be in place.”

Tango exhales shakily, looking nervous, but he manages to give Jimmy a smile. “Here goes nothin’...”

Turning away, he steps onto the redstone ore block, which immediately lights up. It starts a sort of ripple effect along the dust that connects it to the rest of the redstone, triggering all kinds of ticking and flashing. It’s all Jimmy can do to follow the signal as it travels towards the portal frame-

Static fills the air, and the portal ignites. Swirling red light fills the frame.

“Oh, nice,” Grian breathes.

“Yes!” Impulse cheers. “We did it!”

“Okay, uh, Tango?” Etho nods at him. “Go ahead and step off the block, now.”

Tango doesn’t respond. He’s staring at the portal with an unreadable expression clouding his gaze, almost as if in a trance.

Jimmy quickly hurries to his side. “Tango,” he murmurs, gently shaking his arm, “come on.”

“Huh?” Tango jolts. “Oh, oh right, sorry!” 

He steps aside, and the portal remains lit. Impulse grins. “Alright, looks like we’re good,” he says, stooping over to hit a button next to the portal. A piston extends across the redstone line, and the portal extinguishes.

Jimmy lets out a breath of relief. An irrational part of him had been worried that Hels players would immediately start pouring through. “You okay?” he asks Tango quietly.

Tango nods. “Yeah, sorry,” he says with an apologetic smile. “I’m fine, it just… kinda hit me all at once.”

“Yeah,” Impulse says, “I definitely wasn’t expecting to have a working portal today, either. But hey, good job guys!”

“Yeah, nicely done, fellas,” Grian says, sounding pleased. He starts typing on his communicator. “I’m gonna let the others know we’ve got the portal workin’, and tomorrow… we’ll all meet to start planning our invasion of Hels. I’m sure if we put our heads together, we can come up with a solid plan to get Bravo, get that key from Atlas, and get out.”

Tango snorts. “Oh, sure. Easy peasy.”

“Don’t worry,” Jimmy says, putting a hand on Tango’s shoulder. “We won’t go through til we’re all good and ready, yeah?”

Tango’s expression softens. “Yeah.”

“Right.” Grian puts his communicator away. “Get some rest, everyone, and we’ll see you tomorrow. Details in chat.”

~*~

<Grian> portal done. meet @ impulse and bdubs tomorrow at noon for hels invasion plotting. all ideas welcome

<PearlescentMoon> Ooh :0 

<InTheLittleWood> wait seriously? already??

<Renthedog> YO amazing job on the portal guys! :D 

<BdoubleO100> oh THANKS A LOT for volunteering us to host GRIAN!!

<Grian> :P 

~*~

Later that night, in the dark quiet of their room, Tango rolls over to nestle his head beneath Jimmy’s chin, claws bunching up the fabric of his shirt.

“Thanks,” he murmurs.

Jimmy hums. “For what?”

“For… not givin’ up on me.”

“What’d’you mean?”

“I mean… you know, I- after everything I did, and- and everything I said…”

“I already told you, that doesn’t matter to me.”

“Yeah, I know. But when I realized the secret was out… that things were- that we couldn’t just go back to normal… I mean, I was convinced it was over. Everything, my- my new life, my freedom, my friends. Us. But you never gave up hope.”

“Of course. It’s been a long road here, alright, I- I’m not givin’ that up without a fight.”

Tango tilts his chin up to look at Jimmy, red eyes glowing in the dark, and leans in to meet his lips. They kiss slow and sweet. Warmth hums in Jimmy’s chest.

This hasn’t been an easy journey, and he knows there’s plenty more challenges still ahead. Even if the mission to Hels goes well and they achieve all that they want to, the experiences Tango’s been through won’t magically go away. It’ll take time. Healing isn’t linear. But with everything out in the open now and the support of their friends, Jimmy’s hopeful that Tango can start to unlearn his self-hatred. Jimmy will be there every step of the way.

All too soon, Tango pulls away. “We should get some rest,” he whispers, settling against Jimmy again.

“Yeah,” Jimmy sighs ruefully, draping a wing across Tango. “Gonna need all two of my brain cells at full strength.”

Tango huffs a soft laugh. “Love you, honey.”

Jimmy closes his eyes, smiling. “Love you, too.

~*~

Jimmy wakes up to a cold bed.

That immediately sets off alarm bells in his head, because since when has Tango gotten out of bed before him? Then he opens his eyes and realizes it’s still night; a faint crescent moon hangs in the starry sky visible through their window. Their room is dark and empty. Tango is nowhere to be seen.

The alarm bells become a siren.

No, no, no, no, no.

Jimmy springs out of bed, sparing a second only to grab his shoes off the floor before throwing the door open. His heart is in his throat as he flies down the stairs to the main level- all dark and empty- and hooks the corner to wrench open the basement door. 

Already he can see the chilling red glow from the portal cast across the wall, a shadow of bleeding light, and a million curses scream through his mind. His stomach feels like it’s knotted in on itself and his lungs are burning for air, he’s moving faster than what seems physically possible and yet not nearly fast enough as he crashes down the stairs and bursts into the portal room, mouth opening to cry out-

Just in time to watch Tango vanish into the red light.

~*~

Somewhere in Hels, a player walks through a portal.

Tango’s heartbeat pounds in his ears. He’s already started shaking- if it weren’t for the wither effect flowing from his collar, he’s certain his blaze rods would be igniting right now. It’s a bizarre mix of emotions. The scent of ash and the sight of netherrack are comforting, in a way. Familiar. But it’s also terrifying, because there’s no mistaking where he is.

(There’s a reason he doesn’t like hanging out in the nether.)

Fear threatens to swallow him. He pushes it down; he’s got a job to do.

Forcing a steadying breath through his clenched teeth, he takes in his surroundings, ears pricked cautiously. He’s definitely not at spawn- he’s at the border of a basalt delta, actually, fine gray particles fluttering through the air. Aside from the portal behind him, there’s not a structure in sight. No sounds save for the distant bubbling of lava and the distinctive slap of magma cubes.

Tango frowns, chewing his lip. The portal was supposed to take him to Bravo, so he must be around here somewhere. Why he’s not at Hels Tek, Tango isn’t sure. Maybe they’re out on an errand run? Either way, he ought to start looking around.

But first, he’s got to break the portal so no one can follow him. Everything he’d packed made it through with him, thankfully, so he equips his pickaxe and turns back to the portal-

Just in time for Jimmy to emerge, running straight into him.

The collision knocks Tango to the ground, pickaxe flying from his hand, his forehead stinging where it smacked against Jimmy’s chin. Blinking spots from his eyes, he pushes himself up on his elbows with a groan. Once his vision stops spinning, he locks eyes with Jimmy, who seems just as shocked as he is.

Both of them shout at exactly the same moment.

“What are you doing here?!”

~*~

[strifetxt]

i get that wild life (and secret life before it) are very different from life series past in that the mechanics are very front and center, and i understand the frustration that causes when part of what tumblr fandom in particular really loves about the series is the social dynamics! i get it, i really do.

but i think at this point, unfortunately, they can't really just do a pure social game anymore in the same way? this group of creators knows each other very well at this point! they've learned the patterns, both of the game and of each other! the social game just isn't going to work as effectively for any of them! there's only so many ways they can do "normal semi-hardcore survival until we all start killing each other", at the end of the day.

that's the reason why they need the gimmicks to be more intrusive. yes, maybe they get in the way of the "typical" progression of a life series, with base building and alliance forming and such, but like. the ccs have done that all before, several times over. the gimmicks give them something different to interact with that isn't just each other, which makes it easier for them to make videos that are new and interesting to a wider audience.

and to the people saying that it gives them no time to build a narrative and form character arcs--isn't the fact that things are different now an interesting narrative in and of itself? isn't it interesting to see the ways in which these characters react when faced with each new bizarre situation? the way that several different crumbling relationships had to be put on pause this past session because everyone had to focus on a threat bigger than themselves?

ultimately, this new style of life series might not be your cup of tea, and that's completely okay. or maybe the snail gimmick felt too unfair; i definitely think grian maybe underestimated the impact that they'd have, which explains the much shorter session. i do personally hope that the next wild card is one that gives the players some more room to breathe, considering how many of them talked about how stressful this last one was. but like. i've seen multiple posts taking this whole thing in bad faith and saying that the gimmicks are proof that the life series is just becoming a soulless content mill and that it's clearly a sign of corporate greed, and like? i mean, putting aside the fact that this is their job, and they do have to make their videos get views to secure their livelihoods (which is hardly 1% bourgeois living, to be clear), at the end of the day, i'm pretty sure grian's just trying to strike a balance between making the series fun to watch, and making sure it stays fun for his friends to play.

[auriidae]

PART 2 ‼️ me & my friends when we are stuck at life (pt 1) (pt 3)

character notes under the cut!!!!!

both in true hs canon and in this au, rage represents chaos. and lifeseries grian is so undoubtedly linked to chaos above all else — he thrives off it, subsists on it even. if it’s not something he can seek out it’s something he’ll initiate. but — make no mistake, the anarchy he initiates is very much limited to within the game. he doesn’t break the game system, he works within it and disrupts whatever system the players are trying to put in place… for the benefit of the game itself. and again, with heirs being played by their aspect, it only makes sense for him to be one. rather than jimi, though, he’s okay with this — being an agent of chaos ties him to it intrinsically, and that makes him feel so, so alive. he’s okay with being controlled, for the most part, because it also means he’s in control. at least at the beginning.

i wanted to make eethos a mind player so bad you don’t understand 😔 but i think he is closer to void in reality. either way he’s a thief — dealing in redistribution of his aspect only to himself, whether consciously or unconsciously. i think void makes sense for eethos because he’s such an unknown to many of the other players (and also to some extent probably himself). a thief of void — taking the mystery from others, knowing them and their secrets and cloaking yourself in them, making yourself an unknown. if void is an aspect more focused inward, also (i like the idea that the central struggle of void players’ character arcs are more personal than some of the other aspects), we could have eethos vs the mortifying ordeal of being known + choosing to stay. which comes back to his class, with thieves having to let others have their aspect as well in order to fully complete their character arc. with that being said eethos “wghats the deal wiht abtrhoom pesnis” mind player will always be real in my heart ok

beedub oh beedub my beloved rogue beedub. rogues typically have the problem, right, where they are capable of redistributing their aspect for the benefit of others but never for themselves. so they try to find others who can help them with it but really just have to learn to stand on their own (and end up finding a source of their aspect that way). this specifically throws beedub n eethos’s friendship into the saddest light because beedub is okay with giving everything to his friends + allies (esp eethos) while quietly hoping they will help him in return, but the thing beedub wants eethos (as a thief) is incapable of giving to him. he can only take, and that’s where their sort of falling out where eethos starts avoiding him and spending more time with others comes from. eethos needs to learn to give to others (not beedub) and beedub needs to learn to stand on his own. ethubs makes me sad. BUT ANYWAYS hope as the aspect of imagination, of being caught up in seeing what could be, of love and trust unconditionally without paying mind to the possible repercussions. that is pretty bdubs-coded i think. he’s a hope player and he’s going to be ok guys he’s going to be fine :)

again feel free to ask me questions abt them !!! lifestuck is in my brain

[frozenjokes]

long list of mcyt ships and my dumbass opinions this post was getting too long and I have so much more to say

skizzpulse: needed to write about this because I don’t ship them at all but something is deeply weird about them in a way that is neither platonic or romantic. They have transcended human definitions of Relationship to me. No they’re not a QPR either. They’re weirder. Whatever you’re thinking they’re weirder. Do not separate. Attached at the hip.

etho: etho is in a realm of his own where I simply can not ship him. he’s not doing the romance. he’s not doing the qpr. he’s not doing shit. And it’s not because he can’t pull bitches; he is swagless and a loser in a way that brings ALL the boys to the yard (as opposed to Grian who is similar except he can’t pull anyone), he’s simply getting weird with it. He walks right past any sort of relationship into something deeper; resident sopping wet animal. aro/ace also but this isn’t nearly as relevant as the autism

cubscar/convex: favorite hermitcraft ship and it is not even close. It is NOT EVEN CLOSE. in the way scarian are both covered in lighter fluid and holding matches, convex are also doing that except it’s become a game of who can set the other on fire without being lit up themselves, and they’re both having the times of their lives (ends with both of them on fire every time without fail and it’s usually scar’s fault). they’re insane about it. the vex shit???? insane. their minds are beautiful and deeply wrong. I think they should kill each other.

solidaritimes: I will never forgive Scott smajor for separating scar and Jimmy in secret life he has no idea what he took from me. In a world where Jimmy is often the butt of the joke (by his own volition, I understand) the sheriff deputy thing was fucking beautiful. Sunshine and rainbows, love and support and adoration and everything good and healthy. A massive breath of fresh air and easily my favorite part of the hermitpires crossover. They mean everything to me. I’ve never seen such losers be so in love. Failgirl power.

redscape: another banger. These guys are GOOFY and I think Scar hits a magical combination of being Completely Exasperating vs Setting Off Mumbo’s Bullshit Radar which makes them bounce off each other in a lot of fun ways. They are versatile as a couple between banter and shenanigans and dedication, it’s a pairing I generally think of as very healthy and fun and if you also like all of these things don’t read my Boatem Ghosts AU because I make redscape awful and Mumbo pays the full price! Whoops! I love to think about them falling fast if I am writing them as romantically/sexually inclined characters, where Scar is frustrating but at the same time charming and silly in a way that draws Mumbo in. Mumbo on the other hand challenges Scar and chips away at his facade in ways he finds exciting. I like a Scar that wants to prove himself to Mumbo, win him over, where Mumbo is just lightly exasperated about the whole thing.

cleo/cub: probably the only pair on this list that I think are friends normal style. I just really adore normal style friends cleo and cub feuding about their museums so I had to tell you. I need to write them as friends more often. I love thinking about cub helping cleo fix up her stitches as well as other maintenance on their body. guys who nudity doesn’t matter to they’re both just chilling with their shirts off. special platonic dynamic to me.

ranchers: I don’t care about ranchers

moonrot: I don’t normally ship cleo and pearl in most of the smps or whatever. However. The specific dynamic they have in my boatem ghosts au makes me a little insane I really like them together. Pearl is a little bit deranged in her Wanting Revenge On Scar but ougghg that pirate scar’s hanging out with… she’s so cool… and then Cleo brings them to the ghost island and Pearl thinks she’s even cooler cleo is So Awesome ougghggh and then she gets worried because Scar is a Ultra Murderer TM so she’s quite protective over Cleo and doesn’t like Scar being around them AT ALL but her ass is dead so she’s not doing shit about it. The pining once Scar is out of the picture is Out Of Control. I should write a one shot about this.

ethubs: I think this is the only ship I can honestly say has ever been too weird for me. I think they’re deranged in a way that makes my skin crawl. I am deeply afraid of them. They’ve never kicked it normal style in their lives. I look at them and I don’t know what I’m seeing. It scares me. I respect this ship deeply and leave freshly slaughtered sacrifices at an altar once a week in a hope that will be enough for ethubs to leave me alone.

[mochiwrites]

y’know I’ve been having thoughts about mumbo not being in limited life so…….

“No. Absolutely not.”

Mumbo splutters, “W-What? Why not?!”

Grian stares at him, expression very serious. He crosses his arms. “Because, Mumbo,” is all he says.

A frown threatens to pull on Mumbo’s lips, as he already feels the corners of his mouth twitching. He stares down at his boyfriend with a bit of incredulousness. This was not the answer he expected upon asking Grian if he could join the next life game. Last Life had been quite fun, even if it was a bit overwhelming and terrifying all at once. He had liked it. It was nice to let loose. And Grian seemed plenty happy he was there! So, “Why?” he repeats himself. “Is it — was I bad at the game? Oh goodness, I didn’t ruin it for the others, did I?”

He sees something in Grian’s eyes crack, and the avian is pulling his gaze away. “It’s nothing like that. I’d even say you were great, Mumbo.”

“So then why can’t I join this next one?” Mumbo asks, beginning to feel just a bit frustrated. “Just give me a straight answer, Gri. That’s all I want.”

Grian looks up at him, and Mumbo attempts to plead with him with his eyes. He watches the very moment Grian’s resolve breaks, seeing it in the way his shoulders sag as he uncrosses his arms.

“The life games are different from Hermitcraft,” Grian says, and Mumbo blinks.

“Well — yes. I know what I’m signing up for, Grian,” he replies, though not rudely. He doesn’t see the issue here. “I was in Last Life, remember?”

Grian frowns in return, “That’s the point.” The way Grian says it makes it seem like that one sentence holds the answer to Mumbo’s question. He says it like it’s obvious, which it very much isn’t to Mumbo.

He resists the urge to groan. “Grian, mate, I really don’t see the issue here,” he reaches for Grian’s hands, taking them in his hands.

The way Grian looks at him breaks Mumbo, just a little bit. Because Grian looks at him with a bit of desperation, with this pleading gleam in his eyes. You’re going to make me say it? Is what his state communicates to Mumbo. He squeezes his hands in comfort. Encouragement. And, “Whatever the reason is, you can tell me, dove. I’m not going to be upset.”

Grian opens his mouth, hesitating before finally giving in. “I never wanted you to see me. In one of those games,” he admits.

“What?” Mumbo asks, looking at him.

“We all become a little different in those games. A little more violent, bloodthirsty. The moment someone turns red, everything changes,” Grian continues, looking down at their hands. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of… taking your final life being one of them. So I — Mumbo I can’t let you join another game.”

Oh… Mumbo stares at Grian with a bit of surprise, as well as pain. “But Scar,” he points out, because he is a complete and utter spoon.

Pain flashes across Grian’s face, and his grip on Mumbo’s hands tighten just a bit. “Scar is… he’s different,” he mutters. “I don’t want him there either, but he’s been a part of these games since the start. And no matter how hard I try, I can’t stop him.” He brings one of Mumbo’s hands up to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss against his fingers. “I’m sorry, Mumbo, but please… I can’t have you both there.”

And Mumbo begins to understand. He knows these games can weigh heavily on the others, Grian especially. He remembers how he was when they all came back from Third Life. How Grian and Scar were. He doesn’t think either of them ever fully recovered from it.

Mumbo remembers pleading with Grian to join Last Life, wanting to understand what it was that they experienced. What was it that affected his boyfriends so thoroughly that caused them not to talk for weeks?

He had quickly understood.

“Oh, Grian,” Mumbo murmurs it very softly, moving to hold his face in his hands. “Grian, love, it’s okay. I understand.” He offers Grian a comforting smile. Grian, who had previously been tense in his hold, seems to relax at that. He sags in Mumbo’s grasp, and Mumbo can’t help his soft chuckles. He moves to kiss his nose, “Thank you for telling me,” he says, because he is grateful for the answer. “Nothing you do in those games will ever make me stop loving you, alright?”

Grian’s face breaks out in warmth, and he inhales quietly. He moves to embrace Mumbo, holding him tight. “Thank you,” he mumbles, “I love you too.”

Mumbo makes a mental note to be prepared with lots of blankets and snacks for when Grian and Scar come back from this next game.

He gives Grian a little squeeze, as well as a kiss to his hair. I’m here.

[regularconvexheadcanons]

oKAY BUT CUBS OBSESSION WITH SCAR IS SOMETHING NO ONE CAN BREAK- THE I D E A S- (also hi sculk scar anon again :3)

1: Cub Totally uses Scar as a basis for spite specifically! Or at least Scar level spite (then you get Grian level instigation, Doc level revenge, aaaand honestly Cub uses himself as a Knows It level to see how others vary on what they know like parkour and different mechanics for it in the Labyrinths case - everyone elses mini games and businesses are enough data on their own, talkings just a bonus)

2: Cub had to lock himself away, listen to the Songs of the Vex and later the Sculk, when Grian was soulbound to Scar. Already Grian was connected to Mumbo, Grian already was paired up! Scar was *His* proven and Earned soulhalf- Sometimes he can only be brought out of his jealousy by the Vex, other times he calls Scar over and covers absolutely Covers Scar in jewelry while looking at their shared earring/necklace/ring/piercing. They may not have the Cathedral anymore but hell if Cub didn't know how to make Scar feel like an altar, worshipped and made *perfect*.

3: Though course connected as they are, Cub is near by, watches, listens, plans, *lives* near Scar in ways the other Hermits could never even Attempt. But Scars version? It's Being. Cub is near by? Scar slows, stops, flies predictably. Cubs watching? He becomes more animated, smiley, putting on a him sized puppet show for Cub. He's listening to Scar? More inflection, tone, stylized pacing- ends some stories as "For the one and only, Cubfan!" Planning is Inevitable for those two. Living?

They are Vex. They have always been before and after. Even Watchers look on, envious of the Connection eyes cannot achieve.

...aNYWAY- Hope yall like it :D (need more convex crumbs I am Dying)

1: Yep. Definitely. Scar spites, and holds grudges, and gives his friends the cold shoulder like no one else. But never towards Cub. They’re not sure if it’s a vex thing, but Vex definitely hold grudges, so it’s probably part of it

2: ooooh yess. Cub would definitely be at least a little bit jealous and begrudging of Grian for being Scar’s soulmate, and respond by treating Scar even better than usual. For so many reasons. A: how the other soulmate pairs get to act around each other without anyone questioning. He and Scar are happy to be close and affectionate in private, but being able to do that more publicly without the other players teasing them for it? Yes. Cub needs that.

b: he’s heard Scar’s stories of Grian being distant and rude and then later cheating in Scar. He knows Scar just wants an ally who cares for him. Grian has a chance to be as friendly and excited and caring with Scar as he is in Hermitcraft and he’s blowing it completely. (Which also made Cub wonder if Grian was faking it in Hermitcraft) C: one of my headcanons is that during Double Life, Cub ALSO feels the Scar and Grian’s injuries (but as phantom pain), even stronger than usual. And then Grian saying how Scar’s always getting hurt when he really isn’t. And Cub can’t quite understand Grian’s problem.

Also, on the same point, I want to know more about this Song of the Vex. I love it. Clearly it’s something that calms vexlings down, perhaps something only vexlings can hear. And maybe allays as well, and the allays are either calmed by it, or it makes them act up. And other players are really confused. I can imagine a lot of humming, no real lyrics. But a lot of pent of emotion. And now that’s led me to a thought that Vex - and Vexlings - hum when they’re happy. Like the equivalent of cats purring.

3: Scar putting on a show of normal everyday things whenever Cub’s around? Yes. So much yes. Anything he can to make Cub’s day that little bit brighter. And when Cub’s in a conversation with other hermits, Scar sometimes appears behind and Cub’ll be left trying to explain Scar’s antics. And he never quite can explain how Scar made him laugh in a way that the other hermits understand. In the same way neither of them can explain how they understand their secret non-verbal language of tiny movements, or what any particular movement means. They just have that connection with each other. Is it the Vex? Probably. Are they in love with each other? Only in a QPR way. But would they exchange that feeling for anything else? Absolutely not.

[buildheight]

If you asked him, do you regret it? Grian’s answer would be a swift no. Grian is a well adjusted individual. He understands there are consequences. He may not think things to completion in the moment, but he can deal with this on the back end by moving on. There’s no point dwelling on the past. Grian is a well adjusted individual.

And besides, he would say, what is there to regret? It was a death match. I won. Simple as.

Grian is a well adjusted individual. Lots of animals adapt to their surroundings. Grian simply liked to think himself adaptable. Grian is also, he prides himself on this, a decent liar.

He’s not Scar, and lies don't fall of his tongue like leaves from an autumn tree; Grian’s lies are selective. He likes to think himself strategic.

He’s not. But he likes to think it.

There are other types of lies, too. The ones that are not exactly lies, but lies that masquerade as truths, even to their spinners. Grian tells lots of these lies. They are the sort that come unraveling on a cool summer evening staring into your reflection in a still pond.

Well, he’d say, There's really no point dwelling on it. Scar doesn’t seem to mind. And he would be lying.

This is part of the reflection that causes the unraveling. Liars love liars because they tangle each other up in a comfortable common flaw.

There is a truth there. In what he would say. But he doesn't know which. In this way, Grian can be well adjusted. In this way, lies are truths.

[thecoolerliauditore]

Could you talk about Scar and his relationships?

I don't. Think I can I'll be honest. Scar is one of the guys I fully admit I do not comprehend. I am not a Scar guy I cannot tell you anything about Scar that I know isn't completely wrong. I can try but this is like. yeah read at your own risk.

Him being incomprehensible to me actually, in a way, adds to my overall read of 3L. I think Grian, like me, doesn't understand Scar or his intentions and that adds so much to 3L's overall themes of trust. Scar's deadliness is both constantly overestimated and underestimated by those around him -- e.g. Martyn and Ren being on high alert about everything he does vs Scott slotting him into being Grian's soon-to-be-dead-husband like he does with himself and Jimmy or Cleo and Bdubs. He's treated as either like. a complete monster or a bumbling fool, neither of which he actually is.

Grian, over time, does get more of a sense of who Scar is (definitely at least more than the other players) but even then it's underlined with a distinct acknowledgement he doesn't Get Scar.

And I think, in a way, Scar also doesn't get Scar. He does things very impulsively and adapts into whatever character others have assigned him, but unlike Etho who adapts entirely, he distorts it to suit himself -- such as, before the siege of Dogwarts, he IS a threat but he's a threat because he's serving as a distraction for Grian, not because of any danger emitting from himself alone. Grian expects him to betray him, and he does, but for Grian's sake instead of his own.

I'm a big fan of Grian/Scar being parallels to Scott/Pearl so a lot of the same things apply -- Scar is a glitch in the matrix for Grian's survivalist attitude towards the game. Grian can't comprehend Scar, so he abandons him, leading to Scar donning a cloak and being villainized by the whole server while Grian sits back. It's no wonder then why he's one of the only ppl in DL who isn't ever afraid of Pearl and even helps her get back at Scott (the self harm metaphors that apply to Scott/Pearl also apply to DL Scar/Grian for me).

I'll be honest I routinely forget that the cheating b plot in DL existed idk why it's just the one part that keeps slipping my mind, but I don't really know how to interpret Scar being upset there because he's never read to me as particularly in love with Grian or performatively "married" like Impdubs or the Box Boys. I think it's like. Just being abandoned once again but. shrugs. I do think it's fun comparing how Scar reacts to Grian actually cheating on him vs what Scott and Cleo do at the start of the season.

Despite really liking the Clockers POV of Limlife I really don't have much to say about Scar's role in that. It felt to me as if the "loose canon" label he came with pretty much dictated how Cleo and Bdubs treated him. I also read the whole family thing as just them being silly and roleplaying so that might play some part in it.

Secret Life's finale is peak cinema to me I just feel like it bookends Scar's character so well. Letting go of the attachment to Grian, winning on his lonesome and both teaming up and fighting against Pearl, his parallel. It almost feels more like Scar overcoming himself than anything else. Also him not dying at the end is hilarious and so very on brand (I have a short animatic in my head but idk if the moments passed to make it at this point).

[canarydarity]

Tango wasn’t delusional; he wasn’t naïve or careless or just plain stupid, even. In fact, he liked to think he knew a lot. He wouldn’t say he was the best or anything, but he knew redstone—you needed a farm built and he was your guy. And troubleshooting, he was good at that, at working backward from a problem to a solution (something he’s had a lot of practice with). He knew how to play the game; he knew the probability of what spawned where, which circumstances caused which phenomena, the distance needed to go from threat to safety (even if he sometimes forgot to keep that last one in mind). He knew these things made him a not-completely hopeless player when it came to the games, regardless of his chances in a fight. 

He knew for some damned reason he kept signing up for them anyway even though decent chances still meant the likeliness of ending up with a sword in his back was high. He knew that good start, bad start, it didn’t matter—not really, not here. He knew he went out cursing himself every single time, evidence of his last mistake coloring every word. 

This time was different because he didn’t have just himself to consider, and also because it just was; don’t ask him to explain that part, he couldn’t tell you what he meant. It was more a feeling than a fact. 

Different or not, he knew these things to all be true—but there was also more; more, things he knew with the same amount of certainty, though he didn’t know where or when he’d obtained the knowledge. 

He knew that Grian had given him a horn early on before he’d died and lost it, and he knew that kind of camaraderie faded and faded quickly when his match became common knowledge. He knew that when the others caught him out doing something alone and brought up Jimmy, it wasn’t good-natured or checking-in, but something more unpleasant; he knew they were inviting him to rag on the guy, to join them in their mocking and tell them of the awful time they thought he must be having. He knew that Jimmy was holding his breath, running the numbers and trying to understand why Tango was still there, why he hadn’t left yet, and if not yet, then when—as if Tango wasn’t the one to hurt them first. 

And he knew that from the moment they’d spawned in they were doomed to burn bright and burn fast; their cards didn’t call for anything besides an ending.

But he also knew that these were all things Jimmy didn’t know. 

He wasn’t being mean or unsympathetic or anything but practical when he said it. All emotion removed from the situation, it was a statement of fact that whatever chance Tango had in these things was probably over double that which Jimmy was stuck with. 

It didn’t take Tango long to learn that Jimmy just possessed a completely different set of knowledge; he couldn’t help that it was one most would consider wholly useless. 

Jimmy knew when one of the animals on the ranch wasn’t feeling well with a swiftness and surety that at first made Tango actually stop to consider if he could…speak to them, or something—just for a second, it was ridiculous, he knew it was, but he’d never seen anyone do that before, not confidently. Jimmy knew the signs the weather was about to turn and in what way. He knew how to take a hit like no one Tango’s ever seen (though Tango staunchly avoided letting himself wonder why). Jimmy knew how to pick himself back up, even when Tango was sure most people would’ve long ago stayed on the damned ground; it wasn’t resilience—because that implied a not-letting-things-get-to-you that Jimmy certainly did not possess—but perseverance, persistence. 

It’d taken half a day of Jimmy’s warmth—of his laugh—for Tango to succumb; it hadn’t even taken a week for him to forget, even momentarily, where they were. He’d gone to grab a nametag from Etho for some mischief-causing plans and had been met with a joke about him being done playing house. Was that what he was doing?

Tango thought about Jimmy holding his arms up high, a bundle of wheat in his hands, laughing amidst a couple o’ cows that he’d managed to bring home for them, moving this way and that to keep the bait out of reach from searching mouths. Tango wasn’t a builder, but it’d taken little to no convincing for him to build them a home; it wasn’t much and it definitely wasn’t pretty—no matter what Jimmy said to soothe Tango’s ego—but he was oddly proud of what he was able to make them in a way he wouldn’t have been had it been for just him. He thought about cold shoulders being made better by warm nights in close quarters, being comfortable and being known, the kind of companionship that had never before come so easy.

Tango thought about Jimmy’s odds, his track record, his so-called friends. 

He could leave if he really wanted, save himself. It wasn’t like he didn’t have options. Etho would take him in if he asked, or Bdubs and Impulse; he knew Pearl was looking almost desperately for a friend. If not, he’d be fine on his own—he’d done it before; he knew what he was capable of, he’d have a decent enough chance, even by himself.

Tango thought about the way Jimmy doubled over when he well and truly laughed; his penchant for sticking his hands in front of tango like he was a garbage can fire and it was under 20 out, with only a mumbled you’re warm and a slightly red face as explanation; how he’d talk to the cows in full conversations like they were people when he thought Tango couldn’t hear him. 

He closed his eyes and pictured Jimmy, his smile. Bright and fast. Tango wasn’t delusional, he knew how this would end—he likely always has. It was just that: he wasn’t really sure he cared.

(bright & fast) (or, I read this post, blacked out, and then woke up 2 hours later to this in my google docs <3)

[megabuild]

can i ask for ur life series impulse thoughts again because the spirit (bdubs DL watchthrough) is haunting me again. like he doesn't do anything too awful but like. what is his deal man.

hi liau. its very funny to me you are not the first and will probably not be the last to ask me what traffic!impulse's problem is, because i seriously never talk about it or give a remote shit about him, and every time i DO talk about him i am constantly terrified an impulse main will come and get mad at me for being wrong, which i likely am. but anyway, i think you've very succinctly hit the nail on the head in your ask without even meaning it; that impulse's problem is that he doesn't do anything too awful.

3rd life and its sequels are series where all characters are at the very least morally grey. if you're doing analysis you have to take the situation somewhat realistically, and within that you must assume that while they are in a survival situation, they are still killing people or aiming to kill people, so there is never going to be a character who is completely exempt. then, above that, you have characters who closer resemble villains (though i wouldn't personally call them that) due to having more overtly "morally wrong" actions- eg. secret life scar, third life grian, limited life martyn, even last life bdubs. that isn't to say these characters are bad, but rather that their actions stretch a little further, be that due to betrayals, overzealousness, or mockery. and something special about 3rd life is that most of the time they own this. they lean into the villain role, or are self aware enough to recognise their actions are bad, but do it anyway; it gives them complexity! and in a survival game, you can understand why.

so, leading on from this, impulse's problem is precisely as you said: in a game of people who are willing to be awful, he isn't TOO awful, but is still awful enough that it grates. (full disclaimer though it should be obvious this is 100% his character- i don't know if the cc plays it like this intentionally or not, but i don't have any ill feelings towards him regardless.) frankly i think his issue is a total lack of self awareness in general that the others seem to have. impulse, beginning in 3rd life, is traitorous, an ally to all but friend to none, flitting between alliances with the goal of not committing to any of them. other characters do this, but imo they do it better- for example, etho is regularly shown as a character who is absent in his alliances, but often he doesn't pretend to be there, and it's less a goal with the expectation of betrayal but rather a part of his personality. martyn in both 3rd life and limited life is uncommitted to his alliances, but this has a satisfactory ending both times, where in 3rd life he eventually changes his mind to fight alongside ren, and in limited life where he snaps and kills his allies, eventually winning (which also ties into his longer-running lore with e&e quite well imo). impulse, on the other hand... does this okay in 3rd life, and his ending is actually very satisfying- struck down crying that bdubs was a traitor while being a traitor himself. the problem is that this continues on, even once he's moved past the idea of being a traitor, even after he commits to the southlands, into double life where he keeps. bringing it up. impulse's issue isn't that he's a bad guy, it's that he's just mildly annoying enough that it goes against the spirit of the game. in a game of people who own their villainy, not only does he not live up to being a villain, but he can't even own being a Slightly Awful guy, and that grates so much more.

ofc this creates an equally complex and interesting character to analyse but as the local bdubs enjoyer it just frustrated me to no end. a solid 70% of my issue with him probably rises instead from that, because while bdubs is also a pretty awful guy, the character at least seems to have a level of self awareness about it, knows what he wants and how to get it, and doesn't care if he has to tread on others or let himself be tread upon to get there. impulse just sort of... doesn't get that. he doesn't seem to actually act on anything, he just sort of... is. like how in double life he comments on bdubs' traitor behaviour but takes no steps to amend that or actually discuss it (likely because they're jokes from a cc perspective, but within universe, it takes a different meaning). i don't know. i really don't know man. how do i finish this post? i don't even know what the fuck i'm saying. did this make sense to anyone

[archandshri]

9th feb '24 - [arch] characters, interactions and emotion - making a mini webcomic

Gahhhh Shri this has been an absolutely crazy couple of weeks!!!! Hope you are doing well :)) First of all, WOW! You have a lot of goals, and I’m sure you’ll get them done! I’ve worked a lot on my graphic design during the process of making Winter Wellbeing. If you wanna see a blog post dedicated just to that, I can do so! It would be cool to compare notes on the approaches we take for graphic layouts. If you wanna share your knowledge of camera skills when you build that up that would be awesome 😭😭

It’s been a tough few weeks, art wise. I have been reflecting on my process, motivations to create, the ego and all the baggage that’s lumped into the creative process for me. It turns out there’s a lot. I took some space from my illustration practise (literally for a weekend!) and began to realise how dysfunctional it is. I’ve been writing a lot about that so there may be a larger piece of writing coming about that at some point (no promises!!)

But for now, let's talk about little successes!

I’ve been playing with some characters for a while but I’d hit a bit of a block with the plot. I realised the expectation of having a finished project of high quality soon is unrealistic, and an unhealthy expectation to put on myself. I rarely give myself time to play with concepts for a long time and let the characters, plot and interactions evolve naturally. Maybe this in part came from sticking to the short university module turnaround. I noticed that that short turnaround was causing a lot of block, so I have decided to bench it as a comic for now and focus on using it as a playground - falling in love with the characters, creating stories and drawing them for fun. Maybe years down the line I’ll make them into a comic - we shall see! 

I *tried* to do hourly comics day this year and it didn’t quite work for me. I think I made 3 comics? And then got distracted with a bigger project that ended up taking a week or so to complete. Let’s have a look at it, shall we?

[you can find the full version here]

First of all, it’s based on an unfinished fanfiction I started a couple of months ago, which was mostly bad, but there was one nice scene that I liked and wanted to expand on. I started by having a look at the script I wrote and thumbnailing on the iPad. I’m away from home at the mo and usually would prefer to do most of my artwork traditionally, but because I don’t have access to a scanner, the whole process was digital this time. A lot of the pages got scrapped because the dialogue wasn’t necessary, and I’m not drawing pages that aren’t necessary.

some more development screenshots

I thought a lot about posing during the process, acting the scenes out in my mind and sometimes physically, really understanding the emotions of the characters, why they’re saying what they’re saying, their tone and how to convey that though their body language and expression (i find grian really annoying normally [affectionate] but I want this grian to step on me).

Pearl was hard with this because she’s quite erratic and unpredictable in this series, so I wanted her to switch from raw explodey anger to playful jabs at Grian. I’m hoping this comes across as somewhat insane, rather than tonally off and inconsistent. I did super enjoy drawing her and her explosive nature though, especially in comparison to Grian’s coldness.

I played with levels and monotone colour too - I’m not working with multiple colours much at the moment so I’m able to focus on things like values composition, characters and backgrounds. My skills limit the kind of stories I can tell currently, so I’m working to improve those foundations. Maybe when I’m back in the riso studio I can play with colours a little more.

Colours - despite the simple pallete it gets a bit nerdy here.I stuck to specific flat percentages for most of it - Pearl’s hair and Grians jumper are 60%, Grian’s hair and Pearl’s cloak are 20%. Then I added a 14% layer for shadows, using a ahrd blend eraser tool for highlights, making the images quite dark. I fill a layer with texture from Forystr’s riso brush for procreate, and turn it into a 40% opacity colour dodge layer. This gives it some much needed texture and makes the lighting feel low and nighttimecore. It also pushes the values to look really nice - I tend to be too scared to push them by myself.

I tried a few different colour layers to get a *vibe* but settled on a low percentage riso blue in a colour layer. All layers besides the riso blue are in a riso black, colour picked from a riso colour pallete. I learnt these tools - using percentages to get good values - from working with risograph. I really recommend having a look at these techniques and doing some monotone work. It's really improved by character designs, page layouts and compositions.

That's all from me today, though I have had MANY other thoughts over the past two weeks about creating, but perhaps we'll dive into them another time. If you (or anyone else) has any questions, hit me up with a reblog or an ask and I will get right to it. Lovely to hear from you! Hope your art is going great too :)) Arch :)

[definitelynotshouting]

MMMMMMM SPACE AU IS GOING TO MAKE ME BRAINROT ABOUT THE LANGAUCW BARRIERS AAAAAAAAAAAA

thinking about the fucking ✨I n t i m a c y✨ of learning each other’s body languages and routines/habits and slowly falling in love with the more subtle parts of each other rather than through simply getting to know each other. ALSO ALSO ALSO WITH ALIENS!!!!!! I cannot fucking BEGIN to stress the importance of physical touch. Coming from someone who grew up shipping spirk, PHYSICAL TOUCH IS LITERALLY EVERYTHING. The small gestures, learning each other’s cultural and personal boundaries and adjusting to that even if it’s smth small like, avoiding touching direct skin. Showing that they care, and are considerate at the same time. Other things like trying each other’s native foods that they love, or watching the stars in complete silence together. Just UGH, language barriers are so fucking important to me bc it literally leaves them to fall in love with ALL of each other. Not just their upfront personality, or sense of humor, or manner of speaking, but EVERYTHINNGG. GOD IM GOING TO GO INSANE BC OF THIS WAYAGGGHHHHH.

ANON NO JOKE THIS IS SUCH A HUGE REASON WHY I INCORPORATED A LANGUAGE BARRIER INTO THE INITIAL IDEA OF THIS AU. You are SO right for this its about everything you said and also the expression of love to learn someone else's language even imperfectly just so you can communicate with them. Im so ill in the brain abt it like oh my GODS i love space aus that really lean into the cultural differences and cultural exchange of it all

Also anon you will LOVE that fact that glossy and i were talking the other day about the concept in your other ask-- we've determined that Scar and Jellie's species (now officially called Tsabii) has a huge thing about colours. Ive been picturing their planet to have a lot of deserts and warmer climates with only a few extreme cold ones, as well as a lot of underground cave systems, so colour is something very important and traditional to their people. We decided Tsabii actually translates roughly to "spectrum/all colours/all spirits" and is basically their own word for people as a collective. And instead of saying something like "you make me incredibly happy" you'd say something along the lines of "you have bright colours"

Scar, at some point down the line, tells Grian almost offhandedly that he's the "most colourful person [he's] ever seen." Which is like. Probably one of the most smitten and romantic things a Tsabii can ever say to someone else. A bit like saying aishiteru in Japanese. It's not something you'd ever say in public because it's practically verbal pda, incredibly intimate, and basically declaring this person the center of your world and happiness. And Scar just. Says it to him. With perfect, calculated casualness.

Of course Grian doesn't understand the connotations of that. He's out here assuming Scar just really likes the colour red. And ohhhh my gods the fun we've been having turning that concept around, its been making me insane

Anyway tldr; anon u are so right for everything and i am solemnly shaking your hand

[fablefaye]

want to rant about Desert Duo because I’ve been thinkinggg

So I’ve been thinking about DD’s like… arc and how it has an ARC. While in Last life Grian says to Scar that nothing carries over from previous season I can’t help but feel like they do, from a character point at least.

3rd Life, The Beginning.

In 3rd life there is nothing, this is the beginning, the empty slate. In the start Grian doesn’t really seemed too bothered about finding any team mates and it looks like he’s going to be playing a little lone wolf-y.

HOWEVER he ends up killing Scar. The first death, of the first series, and it’s his fault. So he teams up with Scar and over the series they bond and grow closer, they kill their main rivals, Ren and Martyn and things are looking great.

but then things come down to the final three and Scar betrays him. Grian hadn’t thought he would actually do it. Or sit back and let it happen. But he didn’t grab the paper and Scar… killed him. After all they’d been through! After everything Grian had done for Scar!

He gets the sneak attack on them, ignoring Scar’s messages that showed he was trying to team back up. Grian ends up with his sword poised at Scar, and to his surprise, Scar doesn’t fight and instead he tells Grian to kill him. But Grian can’t do it, even after the betrayal. Everything they had been through, and the guilt on Scar’s face, and in his voice, stopped Grian in his tracks. but there can’t be two winners, so they end up fighting. But not in some random place in the woods, but instead where all their fond memories had been made, in the desert, next to Pizza, a friend who had fallen.

Grian wins, it’s an honest fight because both of them see this as a win. And in the end Grian remains, alone. So he jumps off the cliff of their mountain, of their home.

Grian caused the first death and Grian caused the last.

Last Life, The Divorce (part one)

So Last Life starts, and despite Grian saying that all ties are cut, the first person he goes to, is Scar. Maybe this is because he’s gullible and had a lot of lives. But maybe it was also because, despite what Grian had said, he still felt ties, even if they were faint.

But even if he feel ties he still doesn’t want to get close to Scar again, the blood still stains his hands. Instead he starts pushing Scar away and being almost hostile a lot of the time.

However, despite Grian’s efforts he comes back to Scar, again and again. But it’s just because Scar always has so many lives. Grian assures himself.

He steals Scar’s horse, (which was originally his) and kills it in front of Scar. Trying to show Scar that they are not in the desert anymore. Grian is not the same Grian.

They end up dying separately, completely unrelated to each other. Both feeling unfulfilled as they die.

Double Life, Divorce (part two) and the Rekindling.

In the beginning of Double Life we see everyone going around looking for each other, for their soulmates. And while Grian begs it not to be so, guess who he ends up with…? Scar. Because who else would it be? Who else COULD it be?

Grian hates this, He can’t go back to the desert, he can’t do it again. So he’s harsher to Scar, and keeps him at a distance. He tells Scar to keep his pets outside. They will not have another Pizza. They will not return to the desert.

Grian decides to defy fate and become Secret soulmates with BigB. It doesn’t take long for Scar to find out though. But why would Grian replace him like this? Scar couldn’t understand why Grian was so hostile (at least not to the full extent) and why they felt so disconnected. He couldn’t understand how Grian could replace him… betray him…

Tensions are in the air, especially after Scar reveals that he knows about Grian’s secret soulmate. Time passes and Grian and Scar end up at the box.

Now it’s interesting that Grian, during this whole heist (that goes on for a little while mind you), never once considers that the person he’s trying to kill is his Secret Soulmate??? Now maybe he genuinely didn’t realize as the thrill got to him, but maybe he was doing it because, he felt guilty for what he had done to Scar. Scar had been mostly nice and followed orders this whole time (beside the snow incidents) and hurting him like this was like kicking a puppy.

But either way he ends up killing BigB and is heart broken. He had killed another friend. So he made a grave for him and everything. (One of the few other graves in this series belonged to a certain someone now didn’t it?)

after this event Grian is still distant, but with no one else to turn to, he and Scar start warming up to each other, if just a smidge. And it stays like this for a little while. I’d like to think until the siege of the velvet keep. Because when Scar makes that bucket clutch I think this is the moment Grian realizes that this isn’t 3rd life Scar, this Scar can take care of himself and that things are different now. This idea is only strengthened when Scar manages to escape by himself. They end up hiding away in a corner surrounded by CACTI. And as the last greens on the server with no one to safely turn to. They turn to each other.

however things quickly go wrong and Grian watches helplessly as Scar causes two of their deaths. But they stays strong this time and stick together.

After this they plan to release another warden but things go wrong again and both end up dying, and Grian is apologizing profusely to Scar. At this point their relationship had been pretty mended. But I’d like to think there was a scene there, in between games. Where they talked… and they figured things out and where finally able to realize how to move on, together but apart.

Because after Double Life it feels like most things have been mended (outside of a line here or there. Things will still never be the same after all.) But things between them are friendly and lighthearted again. Grian in secret life even going to the point of asking Scar if he wanted team up (that didn’t pan out but that’s okay) because even if they’re not actually on the same team, they still know the other cares.

I think they finally left the desert…

[funky-fox-fics]

Prompt: soulmate

please note that this story takes place in my pc/bs au, so you might not understand this if you haven't read that yet!

So here is how it goes, the night after you've found your soulmate, with one utterly and unfamiliarly complete soul now burning in your chest:

Bdubs lays beside you, trying to fall asleep, his own one-and-a-half souls tucked close to his code. You wonder if he's in Hermitcraft right now. You know this is technically a dream; you know that if a Watcher tried to invade right now, Grian could force a wake-up and you'd all be safe on your respective servers.

You wonder if it goes both ways. If, each night in the Life Series, you go back to Hermitcraft for a bit. You know you dream of Hermitcraft, most nights, when you fall asleep here. You don't know if it changes anything. There's too much going on in this bloody half-world to remember a dream.

You cannot hear Skizz here, anyway. In the first game, Grian hadn't got it right; he'd left some gaps in the code accidentally, or maybe he'd left them there on purpose. He'd failed once at trying to separate you two. He hadn't known what you were capable of. He'd made sure not to modify your codes too dramatically in case his nightmares about what binaries "could do" came true.

In the second game, he'd altered it based on your suggestions. Tweaked some of the code, made sure not to attack any code that would damage the link, and it had been gone. A precaution against a new curse I've thrown into the game, he'd said, Watcher Eyes out and watching. It's a bit... well, dangerous, and I don't know how that'd work for a binary, so what I'm gonna do is I'm gonna shut down the connection and we'll see if that helps any. If there's any issues, come find me, tell me it's an emergency code thing and I'll pause the Game. Alright?

And neither of them had actually gotten the curse, thank the Void, but it had been... eerie. The code had patched over the abyss that had always held the promise of Skizz, and it had been gone, and. You'd kept on thinking Grian would try and fix you both again, maybe he'd already done it and you hadn't known, maybe this was how it would always be, maybe the Skizz here was only an illusion and you were completely alone--

But you'd rejoined each other, woken up from the dream--as you'd always done, as you always will--and you'd been together again. Whole, truly and beautifully whole.

The code is here again, walling off the part of your mind that's connected to Skizz and keeping you firmly in one body. And instead there's--

A new gimmick, Grian had proposed. Soulmates. People who shared your health with you. People who you were tied to. People who had been picked by a wonderful roll of the dice, the fairest god of all. People who you would live for and die for and--for one pair, whoever that pair turned out to be--win for.

You and Skizz had looked at each other when he'd announced that, fear-distrust-intrigue splashing into both your minds. Skizz is thinking: No, I'm not giving you up, Impy. Not letting him. If he does--

Skizz hasn't lived with him for a season shattered short and two (admittedly unreliable) seasons before that, so it's reasonable that their near-fixing pours into his mind, nearly causing the two of them to flinch beyond the barriers of their thoughts. Skizz remembers his own death, his own awakening, his own fear flashing through his blood and making his heart pound--

You'd told him you're sure it'll be fine.

You'd been wrong.

Bdubs is now against you in your head, his thoughts filling the place where Skizz should be. You can hear them buzzing around his skull--muddled and distant, but if you focus--

Stupid mobs. I hate darkness. It's too dark outside. Need to sleep. What's Impulse doing? Is he okay? It's too dark out. Make it be day, Bdubs. Make it be day.

--you can hear him.

You don't think he's heard you yet. You don't know if he's capable of it. If he's heard you, he hasn't even thought about it, which--considering you're 99% sure Bdubs isn't a binary--would be near impossible. Even a familiar, routine moment sends a glimmer through a mind, a ripple hidden beneath the workings of a mind and more interesting, louder thoughts.

If he has heard you, then he doesn't care about binaries, which you also highly doubt. Bdubs, you know, is highly opinionated on many things, and he is not scared to share those opinions very loudly to the nearest person. And any sane person would be firmly anti-binary, wouldn't they be?

Your hands are trembling.

You think about secrets. You think about hatred. You think about Bdubs and his stupidly loud opinions.

You think about what Grian had promised--a soulmate to live for, to die for. To win for.

(You think about a clock, and a castle, and a betrayal, and then you do your best to not think about those things any more than you need to.)

Anyway. Bdubs' mind, unlike Skizz, tends to think loudly. Ideas come in bursts, usually unprompted, and whenever he sees something an opinion mutters in his mind. Sometimes shouts. Lots of things are colorful, literally--unlike Skizz's soft blue mind, only sometimes flashing with cerulean or turquoise when he's particularly passionate, Bdubs' mind is full of color. Maroons and scarlets for anger; dark browns and silvery grays for sadness; bright sparks of green and blue for happiness; startling, spiky blacks for fear.

Right now, his mind's lapsed into a quiet, thoughtful lavender blue, a little like Skizz's if you try hard enough. Everything's still too bright, a few hot-pink flutters of irritation lingering still, and Bdubs doesn't know you're even poking through his mind right now, but--if you don't think about what Skizz is like, if you try to pretend like Bdubs isn't here, if you try and ignore his distant thoughts and distant irritations, well. This is a little like Skizz, is all.

A spark of curiosity--a sort of orangey-red, tainting the calm blue and mixing with the rest of it, streaks and splatters and then finally his thoughts are whirring again and goodness he's awake again, and you retreat from observation just as Bdubs asks you:

"Hey, what's up?"

(You could tell him about this, Grian would say. You could tell him you're mentally connected to him, tell him you know what's he's thinking. Tell him you're connected to Skizz like this, tell him you're not sure if this was a good idea, tell him that you're scared. Because, Grian would say, this is a soulmate to live for. Someone you've got to trust. It'd hurt the both of you not to say anything.)

(You think about binaries. You think about being fixed. You think about a lot of things, and your mind flows quicker and quicker and quicker.)

"Nothing," you lie badly.

Some new color you can't quite place blooms into existence, taking its place next to the orange-red curiosity. Mossy green--like his cloak, like leaves, like plants. You're too scared to try and poke deeper, try and investigate exactly what this might be, but this color... it's new. Different. Bdubs goes through a lot of emotions, a lot of colors in a loud and bright mind, but this is new. Soft, even.

"It doesn't look like nothing," Bdubs says, and his voice has changed, and his eyes are dark and wide in the night, reflecting the flickering torchlight. "What's bothering you?"

"Lack of sleep, probably," you mutter, and there's a pink ripple of irritation. The orange-red fades into that lavender-blue sleepiness, and the mossy green's still there, still an emotion you can't quite place.

It nags at you. You're good at identifying Bdubs' emotions, you think. What's this one supposed to be?

"Then get some sleep," Bdubs says with a yawn. "You'll need it. You don't--you don't want to not sleep in a death game, that's bad for you. Night, Impulse."

For a moment, the mossy green overwhelms the lavender blue, and it swells and sings. It is not bright, not like the curiosity, not like fear or anger or happiness. It's like a blanket of grass, spreading over Bdubs' mind, burying all the bright colors and flashy lights.

It is this color that finally bridges the gap, finally breaks into your own mind. It spills over, and for a moment your own thoughts are simply color and sensation, and the color is mossy green, and the sensation is warm, familiar. Threatening to be fierce, but now, in the soft dredges of night, it's soft, placid.

Oh. It's love.

As soon as you've realized this, the mossy green begins to retreat. It draws away meekly, pulls back into the corners of Bdubs' mind, and the lavender blue returns. The blue overwhelms the other colors. Bdubs' mind is a swamp of lavender blue now, and you almost want the mossy green back, if only because of what it symbolizes, what it is.

Bdubs breathes evenly beside you now, asleep, limp and vulnerable. Your own thoughts are beginning to slow and stutter under the weight of how late it is. Your own breath is evening out. The soft chirping crickets sing you a lullaby. Everyone is still Green, it whispers. No need to worry just yet.

The ghost of the mossy green still lingers in your chest.

Bdubs' love is... overwhelming, a little. Passionate. It had felt a little like pride, except also distinctly not in ways you can't really place. It wasn't... it wasn't something omni-present, not like Skizz's mind. But it was there. He'd shared it with you, whether he'd known it or not.

You think about Skizz. You think about Bdubs. You think about failed gimmicks, and you think about hiding codes. You think about a clock, and a castle, and the friendship before the betrayal. You think about Grian.

You think about mossy green. You think about love.

You think: Maybe this soulmate thing won't be so bad after all.

[waytooobsessedwithmcyt]

Heeeyyyy,,,, soooo... about that one au u're ramblin' aboot earlier... Hoe'd grian and gem grow up? Im honestly still intrigued, and little scenaroios are currently playing around in my head, but i wanna know of your rants/rambles abt theem!! Pls.

Actually giggling in real life right now in delight I'm so glad to have an excuse to talk about this

They were both raised in a cult but on completely different sides, Grian was raised to think that his species was superior to all others, he created the life series for fun the first time but meeting Scar kinda knocked some sense into him, it was kinda an owl house Collector scenario in which he went "oh shit people die when they die." He went back and started talking to other watchers about his friends and was subsequently yelled at by all the elders and put back in the life game, but this time with a mechanic installed to encourage the players to not be close, Last Life was meant as a punishment for Grian

Gem on the other hand was raised to be subservient, she grew up being taught to completely worship the Watchers, Walkers weren't allowed to talk to each other and the only words they learned were to take orders. I think this was mentioned in the original post, but all the Walkers are candid hybrids because they're all pretty much bundles of anxiety who've been ruined as a species. Gem was one of the "favorites" so she was sent out to Hermitcraft to keep an eye on Grian, who was kicked out for being a traitor.

Jumping around here but Grian's perspective would have been a literal horror movie, he's lost his entire family, life, and friends and is now being stalked.

The first time they really met and he tried to talk to her was in season nine, Grian was trying to overthrow Ren and Obviously the Soup Group was involved too, at this point Gem really didn't understand the concept of people actually wanting her input and was used to just going along with what other people said, so Pearl and Impulse want to overthrow the king? She'd just tag along.

Grian heard her talking to Pearl and afterwards tried to talk with her, she refuses to talk to him, repeatedly calling him a traitor, he finally loses his temper and tells her she's also a traitor and that what she's doing to Ren is exactly what he's doing to the Watchers.

After that, the Watchers decide that they don't want to risk Gem betraying them and that's how she got thrown into the Life Series, kinda backfires and she ends up leaving the Watchers after all

Tw for self harm after the see more

Kinda alluded to this in the first post, but Gem really struggles with self harm because for the first part of her life it was a defense mechanism, she would get lesser punishments for messing up if she did them to herself, and although she's working on it, it's a pretty hard habit to break, it took nearly a month for Gem to not start spiraling in every casual conversation she had, pretty safe to say that killing Scott and Impulse brought up some not so nice memories for her

This was a bit more about post childhood than actual childhood but ADHD brain makes the executive decisions here