#Mianite: discordant plains

[discordantplains]

Sweet Company

Jordan thumbed through the manual he had found in one of the abandoned mineshafts. Tucker was sprawled in his bed beside where Jordan was hunched at a desk. “So, good news--or, well--whatever news.”

“You found a way out of here?” Tucker mumbled. He coughed into his pillow and sucked in snot loudly. 

“Actually, yes,” Jordan said. Tucker sat up and Sonja looked up from note-taking. Tucker moved to stand next to Jordan’s desk as he tapped on a familiar device they had all seen in Ruxomar. A portal. Tucker sighed in relief. “Oh thank the gods,” Tucker moaned in relief. “Do you have all the supplies? Do you think you could reconfigure it to our old land? Could you?” Tucker was leaning heavily on Jordan’s chair and Jordan moved away from him. Sonja was interested, but hadn’t gotten up. She looked over at them, her book still in her hands. 

“Probably, maybe just a couple more weeks, but I’m no Deviser Gaines--I can’t connect the worlds, but I could try.”

“Deviser Gaines…” Sonja hummed in thought. “Guess he’s back with Martha and them?” She flipped a page on her notes, resting her head on her knee as she shuffled through pages and tapped the quill against her lips.

“Well, we’re counting on you, Jordan,” Tucker said and clapped Jordan on the shoulder before stumbling back to his bed. “I’m going to pray to Mianite to kill me in the meantime.”

Jordan rolled his eyes and let the manual fall closed. He had all the iron and steel he could need, some of the machinery was in dire need of repair around here, and maybe he could secure some more redstone and crystals. There was an old wine cellar in the bed and breakfast he could build the portal in--but it might just have to be a secret from the alternates--or at least Honey. He wasn’t quite sure if he had permission to build there and frankly had no intention of asking. 

He went ahead and took the manual with him as he settled into the wine cellar where they had arranged a few chests to shove their belongings in. Jordan wasn't surprised to find his chest had been pillaged. He had to go ahead and find Tom’s chest buried at the back of the room to get the rest of his items out. He lit a few of the lanterns in the room and mumbled instructions to himself as he assembled the supplies. 

He was partially through compiling the blue-prints when he heard a knock against the wall. He glanced up to see SkeleTom holding a small pitcher of what looked to be fruit punch and had a baggie of cookies. “Hey, Jordan!”

“Hey, SkeleTom,” Jordan greeted, pushing his hair back up into a semblance of his usual coif. He got up from his place on the floor and dusted his hands off on his pants. “What’s the occasion?”

“Bored,” SkeleTom admitted. “It’s been so long since we’ve been able to hang around anyone new. And you’re really nice,” SkeleTom said. He set the bag of cookies and the pitcher of punch on the ground. He sat down criss-cross on the floor to stare at Jordan’s blueprints curiously. 

“A portal? Wow--an engineer?” SkeleTom questioned. His mis-matched eyes skimmed Jordan’s curiously. Jordan looked away. 

“Somewhat,” Jordan answered. He bent back down to organize a few of the pages and felt SkeleTom’s eyes still on him. 

“Do you really want to leave that badly?”

Jordan sighed. He tapped on a blueprint and absently consulted the manual beside him. “Yes and no--Tucker’s sick of this place already, and this isn’t the first time we’ve been stranded somewhere for a month or so,” Jordan answered truthfully. “I also kind of want to talk to the Ianite I know and like--not evil Ianite,” Jordan added. His expression shifted and he smiled absently to himself. He was humored by the events that had happened and he felt SkeleTom’s eyes move off of him. Jordan side-eyed him.

The taller man nodded, drumming his fingers on his knees. “I get it. I’d feel the same way if I woke up in a different dimension.” SkeleTom sprawled his legs out. He picked up a blueprint and studied it some, but his eyebrows creased. “I’m not sure I’m the type of person who can read this.”

Jordan looked at what he was holding and just waved it off. “I was just trying some equations like I’d seen some scientist in the old world I went to do,” Jordan offhanded said. “You know, universe portals or something.”

“Huh,” SkeleTom set the blueprint back down. “Well, you really liked the cookies I made last time so I made more. Also, figured you might be getting hungry. You’ve been cooped up all day,” SkeleTom said and gestured to the cookies and punch. “It’ll give you a mental boost at least.”

“Thanks,” Jordan said, and after a moment he decided, yes, he did need that break. He let SkeleTom pour the small pitcher into one of the two glasses strapped on top of it and sipped at it greedily. The wine cellar had little air circulation and it did help his parched throat. He felt his stomach growling and he absently dug into the bag of cookies, eyes locked on the blueprint. It was almost completed--he could get the framework of the portal done in a few days. Some of the programming and the “brain” of the portal would need a lot more thought and work put into it. Jordan didn’t realize how much he was mumbling to himself until he caught himself mid word. He looked up at SkeleTom who wasn’t interrupting him or butting in, but reading the manual Jordan found.

Jordan nodded to himself and went back to working, unbothered. His mind became wrapped up in the plans again and he absently started assembling a rough layout of the framework with spare wood, chewing on a cookie without a thought. SkeleTom motioned to him briefly that he was going to head out, but Jordan hadn’t paid much mind, his thoughts circling back to the portal.

It wasn’t until the cookies were mostly gone and he mumbled a request that next time SkeleTom got the chance Jordan would be thankful for more...that he realized the man had left. Jordan felt pleasantly happy from a day of silence and easy work. The sugar had helped him think and he returned upstairs to sleep...only to see his bed covers gone and on Tom’s bed.

Jordan sighed. Tom was already dead asleep wrapped in a cocoon. Tucker was snoring loudly and drooling all over his pillow. Wag was wide awake in the darkness--with his blanket thrown over his head and a mysterious white light glowing from beneath the thick cover. Jordan couldn’t even imagine trying to sleep in the cacophony of sounds going on in this room. On second thought, Jordan returned to the basement, ignoring the start of dreariness and reinvesting himself in the portal work. 

….

Jordan ended up falling asleep in the basement propped against the chests. Upon waking he took a moment to check to see he hadn’t disturbed his blueprints or the start to the portal frame. Everything was in order. Jordan nodded to himself and climbed the stairs Jordan nodded to himself and climbed the stairs to see Tom asleep. Tucker was still snoring.

He drifted outside and stretched. It was a bright and sunny day out and he let the sun warm his stiff joints as he tried to think of what to do. More portal resources were a must, so he ventured out with the city ordinances and rules in mind to gather them. He couldn’t gather much--there was little to get with the limitations but it was something. 

The first official day of portal recon was uneventful for him. SkeleTom had came by again with a fresh bag of cookies and Jordan had been grateful for the sugar and Sonja had come by shortly after--having spent most of her day elsewhere and snagged a few cookies and her own food before vanishing again.

The only real snag came later in the afternoon. He’d been in the middle of constructing the base of the brain when Tucker had barged down the stairs and startled him, causing him to shatter the last of his important crystals and diamonds onto the ground. Despite his haste to get out of this dimension, Tucker seemed unbothered, or at least distracted, and insisted that Jordan join him for a group meeting. Grumbling, Jordan attended their discussion, sans Tom, without much fuss, but didn’t pay all that much attention. Tucker’s message was clear, however, as he made sure to warn them all extensively about the extremely annoying bad news and Jordan kept it at the back of his mind.

Jordan knew he should be more perturbed by the announcement, but other than his murderous counterpart he felt relatively safe. He was mostly in the basement and soon he’d have the portal working--well, give or take a few weeks now that Tucker had destroyed the brain.

He tried to sleep that night among the chests, staring at the portal framework in dismay. He had gone to the basement again to avoid the chorus of snores, Tom and/or Wag’s night time shenanigans, and Tucker’s dying lungs. As he stared into the portal frame he felt a dawning unease--how was he supposed to come up with the formula? And when he did--would it be the right one?

Jordan fell asleep uneasy.

…

The next morning started abruptly. Tom woke him up, pushing at him and motioning furiously with one of his hands. Jordan awoke groggily and stared up at the zombie. It was too early in the morning for this--that much his brain told him.

Two of his fingers were wrapped in a splint and bandages and his brows were furrowed. He was clearly bruised and battered--more so than his usual undead ugliness. “Sparklez, reach up and get me a healing potion from the top chest.”

“That’s Sonja’s,” Jordan pointed out, but, eyeing Tom’s hand, he did as he was asked. Tom shotgunned the potion bottle and gagged briefly. He shoved the empty bottle back in Jordan’s hand and hissed in pain as he reflexively moved his right hand. The two fingers were well bandaged, but were swelling and purple at the visible tips. “What happened?”

Tom shot him a dirty look. “Honey. I broke one law.”

Jordan was skeptic. “Uh-huh.”

Tom pouted. His eyes welling up. He leaned towards Jordan and crowded into his space. “Jordan, I’m in pain--and suffering. Don’t give me that shit. You’ve been ignoring me the whole time we’re here--because you’ve replaced me!”

Jordan laughed. He didn’t stop Tom from practically leaning on him, but he did shrug his shoulders. “You got yourself in that situation.”

“I didn’t deserve to have my fingers broken. That’s cruel and unusual punishment,” Tom griped. Jordan shrugged him off and started to get truly up, assembling himself the best he could. Tom narrowed his eyes at Jordan’s make-shift kind-of-bed. “Why are you sleeping down here?”

“I don’t like sleeping in the same room as all of you,” Jordan said. He wrinkled his nose in thought. “You and Tucker make too much noise.”

“Are you implying we’re in bed together?” Tom purposely misinterpreted, aghast. Jordan rubbed the bridge of his nose and shot Tom a look. 

“I’m saying,” Jordan corrected, “Tucker snores and you spend all your time grumbling and whining rather than sleeping.” Tom snorted. He let out a sigh and winced as he moved his hand, looking to Jordan again.

“Can you at least kiss my fingers better?”

“No,” Jordan stated. “I’m going to go get portal resources. Don’t mess with the framework.” Tom immediately eyed his progress, squaring it up. After a moment he narrowed his eyes to slits and glowered at Jordan. 

“You’re going to hang out with SkeleTom! Aren’t you!”

“I wasn’t,” Jordan said, “but just for that I’m now reminded I’m craving cookies, so thanks.”

“You just want me to be jealous,” Tom whined. He leaned into Jordan’s space again, but Jordan side-stepped. He shrugged on his jacket and fixed Tom with a grin. 

“You’d be jealous if I hung out with no-one.”

“You admit to wanting me to suffer!” Tom crowed.

Jordan rolled his eyes. He shook his head at Tom. As he climbed the stairs up, Tom followed him ranting loudly about something or another to himself. When they reached the top of the stairs Jordan headed straight for the door and Tom fixed him with a look of disgust. Wag was asleep in bed this time and Sonja was already out of the house. Tucker was sitting on his bed, sniffling, scribbling prayers to Mianite at a feverish pace and still smelling of smoke and ash. Jordan nodded to Tucker and left, ignoring Tom’s start to a comment about SkeleTom.

Jordan had egged Tom on, but he was in the mood for cookies now and at least at SkeleTom’s he know for sure there’d be peace and quiet. Or, at least, Tom wouldn’t be clinging to him and Tucker wouldn’t be sneezing and coughing up a storm that Jordan could still hear from the basement. During the tour, SkeleTom had pointed out his bakery and house and Jordan traveled to the multi-purpose building, the sweet smell hitting him the moment he was on the block. 

With light colors and a well-trimmed flower-bush outside, the bakery reminded him of a summer house--full of promise. The soft-sound of a wind-chime swaying in the breeze and the melodic hum of bird melodies intermixed in the wind. Jordan reached SkeleTom’s bakery and knocked on the door. 

The door swung open, and SkeleTom grinned, pleased to see him. “What can I do for ya?”

Jordan smiled hesitantly at him, “I wouldn’t mind some cookies, but I’m just looking for peace and quiet.”

SkeleTom nodded in understanding. “I swear I can hear Mericho’s alternate--Tucker, right? I can hear him hacking up a lung any time I come near the ole bed and breakfast. I’ll try something else. Guess tried and true green tea and peppermint doesn’t always do it.” He moved aside, holding the door for Jordan to enter. Jordan obliged. He was at ease with the warmth of the place. In the entrance there was a gorgeous kitchen. 

Jordan wasn’t much for cooking himself, but the obvious organization, cleanliness, and function to it all was beautiful. There was a labeled shelf with various jars of ingredients. A smaller open-shelf with plastic tubs sealed tight and neat and polished silver measuring cups of varying sizes dangling from hooks near each one. A laminated recipe book was open on its own stand to a recipe for no-bake drop cookies. An array of bowls was on a rotating display, available for easy access. It was a shame the man didn’t have that many people to bake for--he was clearly made to, everything about the kitchen screamed an immense love of his craft. 

“In the meantime,” SkeleTom interrupted his train of thought gently, pausing as Jordan’s attention slowly returned to him.  “I can give you all three of what you want. Cookies, peace and quiet,” SkeleTom promised. “If you need some resources for the portal still I can get you some, if you have schematics and lists of what you still need.” Jordan’s eyes lit up. SkeleTom shrugged uneasily and shyly fiddled his fingers. “I’m not much into machinery and fighting, so when I go mining all the materials tend to stockpile and lay around. I sometimes go with Mericho for fun--he has more use for that stuff with his farm and what-not. I’m sure I could freely spare some.”

“That would be great!” Jordan said.

“Oh good! I love to help friends,” SkeleTom cheered. He lead Jordan through a modest four-person seating dining room with a red-and-white plaid tablecloth and an old record player to a small room neatly organized with chests filled with various metals, some rare ones catching Jordan’s eye immediately. What also caught his eye was a bow. It was among two-others, both also spectacularly enchanted and designed with amazing colors, but the violet marking and green highlights caught his eye. He looked to SkeleTom for permission to touch it. “Mind if I…?” Jordan asked.

“Feel free, I only really use the one on the right,” SkeleTom gestured to a more sleek red and black bow with less-loud accents of flames. 

“You use a bow and arrow?” Jordan asked curious as he handled the purple bow and examined the craftsmanship. It rivaled his old Bow of Balance. 

“Mainly, I don’t really like swords,” SkeleTom said and he shrugged awkwardly. He had a lean form and Jordan could see from the way he behaved that a reality where SkeleTom ran around with a large sword like Tom didn’t seem all that plausible. The pink jorts also didn’t look like a comfortable place to hang a blade from. 

Jordan almost wanted to ask if he could take the bow, but he put it back on its hooks, gazing at it sadly. SkeleTom caught his expression. “If you want, you can have it. Just don’t go shooting anyone.”

“Really?” Jordan’s eyes sparkled.

“Sure!” SkeleTom offered. Jordan immediately grabbed it again, his fingers running reverently over the weapon more powerful than any of his friends’ current bows or his own one. He knew it wasn’t really a purge scenario and they weren’t all about to go around killing each other for fun anytime soon. SkeleTom watched him amused and Jordan remembered his faint manners.

“Thank-you.”

“No problem. Wouldn’t want it to go to waste. Now about those cookies--I already have some made, but is there a different flavor you’d like. Or even a different treat…”

And that was how Jordan spent the rest of his day. Pleasantly happy at SkeleTom’s, letting the gift-bow sit happily on his lap. SkeleTom promised him more resources if he brought a list of what he needed tomorrow, and so Jordan kept that in mind. He didn’t need to mine for resources and waste time. He could work on the programming if SkeleTom gave him that extra help. The thoughts bubbled happily in his brain and Jordan was sent home with a bag of goodies and the bow with its very own quiver of arrows. 

He walked into the bed and breakfast that night, almost relaxed enough to consider sleeping upstairs. Tom was resting on his bed quietly for once talking with Tucker, and Sonja greeted Jordan as he walked in. He was the last one back and it was well and truly dark outside. Time must have flown when he was finally able to not have to listen to Tucker’s coughing. He had a bag of cookies from SkeleTom. He pulled one free to munch on as he heard Tucker’s hacking and wheezing fill the room. 

“Nice bow,” Sonja commented.

Jordan grinned, and didn’t miss Tom’s immediate bulls-eye attention. The zombie’s black eyes were glittering in the candle-light, the light bouncing across them and hiding his emotions. His head swiveled slightly to look from the cookies to the bow and to Jordan’s face.

“Accepting gifts now, you traitor?” Tom accused. He stood, lurking in the corner.

“Mm-hm,” Jordan hummed and set the bag of cookies down on the desk near his bed. He turned to the others. “SkeleTom offered to give me the rest of the resources for the portal so I’ll be able to start programming it in two days from now. But for now, I’m going to bed.” “That’s great news!” Tucker said with relief. His voice was hoarse.

“Glad to hear,” Sonja added. She lay back on her bed, her mind elsewhere. Wag, further away, was organizing plant seeds on his bed and had building schematics planned out. Jordan almost considered asking him what he planned on building when Tom butted into his thoughts. He had crossed the room to block Jordan’s path to the basement. 

“You know, Jordan, you traitor us all the time. How do we know you’re not praying to evil Ianite yet!” Tom brandished his finger at Jordan’s chest.

Jordan ignored him. He pushed Tom’s hand away from his chest and walked past the zombie. As he went down the stairs, he could still hear Tom still throwing meaningless accusations at his back.

He had a formula to get done and a portal to finish, as far as he was concerned, Tom could prattle all he wanted, Tucker could sneeze everywhere and everyone else could mind their own business--so as long as no one disturbed him.

| ABOUT | CHARACTERS | PLOT |

[mianite-memes]

Ever want a Mianite Season 3? Well, you still aren’t getting it! Have 2.5 instead ;D

[the-moon-pal]

(2/2)

Kdkdkd also this scene, poor Tom 😔 F

@discordantplains

[whompwhompminecraft]

Before settling down in the land that would later be known as Ihatchu, Captain Captain spent a good many years alone.

This wasn’t to say, by choice, though he would say otherwise if asked. No, the seas were a cruel beast and had quite the high mortality rate, even more so when Captain Captain was at the helm. That didn’t make him a bad pirate, in fact many considered him one of the best, and he was relatively renowned for it. For quite a long while that notoriety kept his crew well stocked, high turnover rate be damned.  

It didn’t last.

There was great debate in Ihatchu about the order of corruption on Ianite’s side. Some were convinced that Captain Captain was just like that. They theorized that he had always been a glutton for bloodshed and pain, he was a pirate after all. Those who still clung to their loyalty to the goddess of balance insisted that her fall had been the champion’s doing. He was too wild, untameable, and it had influenced her down a dark path.

Followers of other gods claimed the opposite. They postulated that the idea of balance was inherently flawed when it was trying to level the playing field between two polarized sides that by nature could never give on their ideals. According to them, it was only a matter of time before the goddess began to seek out more permanent fixes via more drastic measures. Captain Captain’s madness was just an inevitable side effect to pledging his soul to an unstable deity.

Others still came together and theorized that Captain Captain really was just like that and so was Ianite. They were a perfect fit.

Regardless of what the truth actually was there was no denying his violent and thrill-seeking tendencies. Over time his success as a pirate and status as champion slowly became less talked about, instead replaced by whisperings of his madness. It was realized that he was too dangerous to crew for, and so pirates stopped lining up to board his vessel.

It wasn’t long before his habit of steering directly into storms and fighting every other ship in sight claimed his last crew member.

He was alone.

It lasted far longer than it should, and if his time in solitude grew his homicidal inkling then no one would have been surprised. He didn’t talk about it much, not that he talked much about anything.

When he was eventually called to found the city of Ihatchu and build a civilization worthy of the gods, Captain Captain had little motivation to actually accomplish anything that would be of benefit to anyone. He kept the balance well enough, but his and Ianite’s idea of it was twisted.

He killed a few too many townsfolk in the name of peace and order.

People started leaving.

Now this wasn’t all due to his direct action but the town had been rightfully scared and so there were many families that had fled, made the pilgrimage across the plains, in order to save themselves from the wickedness of the goddess and her champion. It was frightfully similar to the manner in which pirates had eventually distanced themselves from Captain Captain when he still sailed the ocean. No one wanted to risk it.

For the sake of society and the population at large Honey Badger was forced to step in. It wasn’t necessarily proper to question the activities of someone following their god’s wishes but an unchecked Captain Captain was a deadly Captain Captain. Not to mention the butcher had just ended up on his own meat hooks and quite a few civilians had expressed their displeasure over that.

She struck a deal with him, and it wasn’t easy. But Honey was a force to be reckoned with in her own right and Captain Captain was still a mortal man and so mostly for the sake of himself he agreed to take it easy--spend some time working on more clever and much less deadly pranks.

SkeleTom and Mericho suspected that he stuck to Honey’s rules mostly for one reason only--so that he wouldn’t be left alone. It was the only rationale they could come up with given his obvious disdain for a certain baker in short shorts. All things considered SkeleTom should not still be alive. But, the baker was one of the few people who tolerated him. To get rid of him would be stepping that much closer to solitude.

That reasoning was painfully sentimental.

Regardless of what his motivation really was, he played nice. Occasionally there was a slip up, prompting Honey to voice a stern-

“Clean that up. Streets are to be pristine and polished.”

-but for the most part he resigned himself to pranks and sullen grumbling.

Living lawfully was better than living alone after all. Not that anyone would hear him admit it.

[discordantplains]

Meet the Alts² - Natives of Discordant Plains and founders of Ihatchu

SkeleTom: His real name is Tomothy and he’s part skeleton (on the inside). He’s an excellent baker who’s always doting on his friends. Definitely the team mom, SkeleTom is quite paranoid, always badgering the other Alts² if they’re being too reckless. Despite his caregiving and generous nature, SkeleTom is fairly crass.

Captain Captain: A former pirate captain who is crude, brash and violent. At his best he is a man who defends balance--and makes sure to insure there is balance how he sees fit. At his worst, he is a prankster who takes things too far. He has a very strange curse placed upon him. 

Honey Badger: A strict, no-nonsense kind of gal. She takes her job as champion of Mianite and sheriff very seriously. Preferring to be direct and to the point, she dislikes those who use underhanded tactics or persuasion and rhetoric to get their way. Her teeth are filed into points.

Mericho: A farmer and businessman. He prides himself on keeping the town fed and has next to no competition in Ihatchu when it comes to farmed goods. Friendly and gentle, Mericho is often seen in the fields, caring for plants rather than involving himself in everyone else’s nonsense. He has a goofy sense of humor. Gam: Is Gam a chicken or a man? Both? Regardless of his physical form he’s a wizard who’s passionate about chickens. The extent of his powers is unknown and no one seems to want to test them. Gam serves no god and remains neutral on all matters excluding poultry. 

[discordantplains]

Arrival

It was another day in the void, when, without any sudden cause or awareness to all, but one, it wasn’t. It was Mot who’s keen eye noticed their startlingly reduced number. While the space Dianite had conjured created a way for them to live mostly normal in a reluctant shared living area as they plummeted endlessly—the missing voice of Tom grating on his nerves was the first sign. He awoke fully and stirred Dianite from his meditation.

“Dianite, we’re missing…” Mot did a quick headcount. “Six people.”

Dianite opened his eyes and turned his head to survey the room. “Indeed we are, a shame.”

Martha shook herself free of her own meditation and looked around the room in horror. “Dianite. All of the sky-travelers are gone.”

“And Deviser Gaines,” Andor spoke up, looking around their shared space.

“I did nothing to cause them to leave—someone else must have pulled them from this space,” Dianite stated. He took in the room in thought. “Perhaps the Deviser.”

Mot thought on it. “He was tinkering with something this past week.”

“We should strive to retrieve them,” Martha suggested.

“They’ve likely already died peacefully,” Dianite decided. “They will be missed.”

...Elsewhere...

Falling through the void, while uncomfortable, cold, and tedious, is possible to acclimate to over time. Getting dumped out of it into new dimensions, however, is not. It’s painful in the same way stumbling out into bright sunlight after spending 24 hours in a dark basement, or falling 50 meters into a body of water, is. Not to mention it comes about suddenly. One moment it’s the 100th round of a rock paper scissors tournament, because what else is there to do in the void, and the next a bright white light is enveloping everything from below and everyone is waking up in a sea of wheat and grass.

They lay stunned for a moment, Tucker, Sonja, and Waglington in a heap of awkwardly twisted limbs and Jordan and Tom somewhere else nearby. With an acceptable amount of groaning and complaining-- “Watch your elbow, Wag!” “Ouch! Sorry Sonja!” “Tucker move your foot!” “Jordan your breath stinks.” “Get off of me, Tom”--everyone manages to right themselves and take stock of their surroundings. And, as it turns out, falling out of the void was about as equally disorienting as the scene in front of them.

Rolling plains stretched for miles in every direction. Waist high grains rippled in the breeze like a body of water. A golden sunset spilling gently across the expanse cast all five heros in a halo of warm orange light. They squinted fiercely in the glow, willing their void-sensitive eyes to adjust in an attempt to locate any landmarks.

“Oh gods, we’re dead!” Tom wailed dramatically, pulling up the grasses around them by the fistfull. He was tearfully staring out into the endless ocean of plains, right into the setting sun.

The Dianite champion sniffled, rolling the fuzzy tips of the grains between his fingers. “It’s like that scene at the end of Gladiator!”

Jordan was the first to recover thanks to the sunglasses perched ever present on the bridge of his nose. He let out a bemused chuckle at the hysterical zombie now mostly-fake sobbing into the stalks of the plants he’d uprooted.

“What are you even talking about...”

“Turn around, dipshit.” Tucker’s voice groaned from behind them.

Jordan complied immediately, unable to hold in an “ooh” of interest. Tom took a few more seconds to be dramatic before listening to the Mianite champion.

It was clear, at least, that they hadn't died, but where they had ended up was another mystery altogether.

Before them lay a momentous city. Gleaming in the darkening skies, with amber and tawny structures rising into the blooming sky--pinpoints of stars bursting into existence. It was difficult to see the scope of it considering the flat nature of the landscape, but, from what the five heros could tell, it was at least as big as Dagrun had been on Ruxomar. The buildings closest to them seemed to be smaller, residential structures, complete with the occasional horse stable or animal pen. Their roofs were wooden and rustic looking. Further in lay grander structures that were just visible if one craned their neck at the right angle.

"Well, this isn't Mianite." Waglington astutely noted, hopping in place to test his powers of flight. They seemed non-existent here, too, just like on Ruxomar.

"You can say that again…" Tucker murmured, in awe of the silent city before them.

"Well, this isn't Mianite." He repeated cheekily, brushing off the dirty look he received from Tucker in response.

Jordan wasn't paying attention to their banter and instead was scanning the edge of town for signs of life, anyone who might've noticed their arrival. On Ruxomar, at least, they had caused quite a stir. Groups of people falling from the sky were not commonplace. He almost expected to see armed guards marching their way across the fields while curious civilians peeked through half shuttered blinds. Yet it remained still.

"Should we go in?" He suggested tentatively, scratching at the dark stubble on his cheeks.

Sonja turned around, hair glowing auburn in the dying light and voicing her opinion for the first time since they landed. She looked into the plains, searching for people in the dark waving grains..

"Wait, we're missing people, where are Martha and Andor?"

"And Dianite!" Tom added loudly.

"Oh, and Mot." Jordan pitched in as an afterthought, realizing Sonja was right. It seemed only half of their void companions had made it through, the inhabitants of Ruxomar being entirely absent.

No one had remembered Deviser Gaines.

They spent a few more moments standing around and looking like idiots. None of them had any answers. Unlike the first time there was no empty land for them to build upon without care--or a number of city people greeting them to guide them into their new world. It was an obviously established world--but dead silent. A pair of eyes watched them from a distance. Then a second. And a curious third.

Tucker sneezed, wiping his nose on his shirt sleeve. "Can you be allergic to grass? I think I'm allergic to grass."

Sonja huffed in frustration, the fox ears on her head twitching impatiently.

"Guys…"

"As much as you're right to be concerned-" Waglington cut in, "-I don't think standing here asking questions will solve anything. Wherever here is…" He cleared his throat. "Besides--if Tucker’s allergic--”

“I definitely am,” he sniffled.

“Then we should move closer towards the town.”

She fell silent for the time being though the continued twitching of her ears and tail betrayed the questions she still had lingering on the tip of her tongue. The most pressing being the question of how they'd arrived here in the first place.

Jordan shuffled awkwardly as silence elapsed between them. Tom attempted to tickle the side of his neck with a green fox-tail. He slapped Tom’s hand away. Tucker sneezed again.

“So...should we go in then?” Wag pressed again.

The darkening prairie behind them was beginning to take on a sinister air as the gently swaying stalks began to bleed into the same muted gray. And then lights in the town began to flicker on, one by one as if by clockwork. There were no other such points of light anywhere else across the plains.

“It doesn’t look like we have much of a choice,” Tucker murmured, looking anxiously around the darkening landscape, “unless we want to get devoured by mobs.”

“Well I don’t know why we’ve just been fucking about in the grass then, let’s go!” Tom whooped, stomping forward and away from everyone else with reckless abandon.

“You were literally the only one messing with the grass.” Jordan muttered before trailing after him, Tucker close behind. Waglington and Sonja shared a more cautious look before following suit.

They cut a swath through the prairie grass which Sonja took to mean that no one else had walked through it in a good while, for, aside from their trampling, the fields around them sat perfectly undisturbed.

There seemed to be only one entrance into the town as fences stretched seamlessly around the perimeter, lit regularly with lanterns to keep out the assumedly countless mobs that roamed the plains at night. Tom arrived at the city gates first, jumping high in order to slap a large sign hanging from an elaborate archway carved from immense spruce logs. He missed spectacularly, nowhere near tall enough to reach what had to be a good eight feet off the ground, and Tucker’s bark of laughter at his failure carried clearly across the open expanse.

A pair of eyes wavered in the darkness as the two others drifted away. It blinked--stare locked on the strangers.

“We probably don’t want to create too much of a scene.” Waglington cautioned as Tom turned on Tucker and dared him to do better. Tom crossed his arms as Tucker raised an eyebrow.

Tucker, never one to back down from a challenge, no matter how ill advised or clearly Tom was goading him into something foolish, took a few steps back and launched himself upwards.

He missed by a mile, stumbling as his booted feet touched down again.

Tom imitated the Mianite champion’s earlier laughter and Tucker shoved him in the chest in lieu of a more mature response. The zombie champion lost his footing and sprawled ungracefully in the dirt. Tucker cackled harshly before yelping as Tom lunged in his direction, swiping for the other champion’s ankles.

“Are you five?” Sonja bemoaned as Tucker scampered behind her.

“Yeah Tucker, are you five?” Tom parroted, strafing from side to side in hopes of spooking Tucker out from behind the other Mianite follower so he could give chase again.

The renowned champion of Mianite rolled his eyes in an exaggerated fashion as if he somehow had the moral high ground despite still taking cover behind his girlfriend. “Oh my god shut up, you suck.”

“We’re going to wake someone-” Waglington started before the Mianite and Dianite champion’s bickering cut him off again.

Jordan shot him a sympathetic look but otherwise made no move to get involved or resolve the issue. He was busy discretely peeking into darkened windows. And checking various barrels and crates on nearby porches of a few homesteads outside the gate. To be frank it wasn’t very discreet at all and Waglington was concerned that someone would catch and reprimand them.

It would be a shame if this town’s first impression of them was Tom and Tucker fighting like children while Jordan snooped through their stuff. He opened his mouth again to repeat his concerns but the sight of a swaying lantern making its way towards their sorry group had his jaw closing with a snap.

Too late, they were screwed.

“Welcome!” a man-- a doppelganger to Tom--welcomed them. He carried a bright lantern that had all blinded for a moment as he held it up. “Welcome your good selves to the tranquil city of Ihatchu.”

The very familiar looking stranger beamed warmly at them, apparently having missed their misbehavior, or at least was decent enough not to comment on it.

“Alternates again?” Tucker muttered.

“My name is SkeleTom,” the man continued on oblivious to Tucker’s comment. “And I think it’s an absolute delight to have fresh faces in our humble town.” Jordan was cautiously eying what he now deducted was Tom’s alternate for a sign of trouble. Tom, too, was gazing his alternate up and down warily.

“Skeleton?” Tom questioned.

“On the inside,” SkeleTom chirped. “My--you look a lot like me.” Tom looked uncomfortable being stared at that critically, but SkeleTom’s gaze moved on. “In fact--all of you look very close to my friends,” SkeleTom said in a sort of surprise. He motioned them inside the gates and Sonja looked him over. He wasn’t carrying a weapon, which was a good sign. His eyes were brown and blue, heterochromatic. His shirt depicted a skeleton’s rib-cage and his pink jorts were snug, hugging his long legs--legs a few inches longer than their resident Dianitee’s.  

Wag’s eyes lingered on SkeleTom’s legs in disbelief, eyes reluctantly drawn to the stark pink jorts. He forced himself to look up. SkeleTom was a dead ringer for their Tom without a doubt, despite the lack of green pigmentation. It was quite different from Mot who looked like a separate person entirely. These two could have been twins. The SkeleTom fellow was far less aggressive than Tom had ever been in his life. His welcome held none of the impending chaos Tom’s had. .

They followed the bobbing of SkeleTom’s lantern mostly in silence, Tucker and Tom having put their argument aside over the curious appearance of another alternate. The streets were dark, aside from a few sparsely placed streetlights. The windows were black mirrors, void like qualities collapsing the buildings into them--their details vanished among the shadows.

SkeleTom showed them into a bed and breakfast and lit the torches inside with his lantern and flint. Tucker had flopped onto a bed and groaned happily. “I’m so glad to lay in a real bed again.” Tucker kicked off his boots and shoved his head into the pillow. SkeleTom just grinned at them as they took it in.

“It’s free?” Tom asked. He was lingering in the doorway, judging the state of their lodgings.

“Yes, just don’t go breaking anything,” SkeleTom commented. “Honey wouldn’t like that.”

“Is Honey the owner?” Jordan asked studiously sitting on the edge of a bed. SkeleTom shook his head. He rested his fingers in his belt loops.

“She’s the law-enforcement around here.” Tom snorted and SkeleTom fixed him with a look. “I’d do your best not to get on her bad side. She can be one of the swiftest forces in all of the land--she’s Mianite’s champion,” SkeleTom advised. Sonja looked up in surprise and interest.

“My alternate is Mianite’s champion?” she asked. Tucker looked over at her in surprise over her interest and SkeleTom nodded.

“She’s the most feared and respected woman to ever grace the lands. I wouldn’t dream of committing a crime in her presence,” SkeleTom said with complete seriousness. Jordan was staring at him in disbelief.

“You don’t do crime?” Jordan asked.

“Heavens no!” SkeleTom expressed.

Tom let out a snort. “Great--this is the worst world we’ve been to.” Sonja fixed him with a glare and Jordan smiled.

“That’s great to hear,” Jordan said and turned his attention to SkeleTom. He threw the next comment somewhat over his shoulder at Tom. “Glad to see someone more reasonable.”

“Shut your face, Sparklez,” Tom muttered. He stepped in front of Jordan and jabbed a finger into SkeleTom’s chest. “You’re lying--you’re just as evil as I am.” SkeleTom cocked his head to the side and smiled, unintimidated.

“I do bake a mean batch of Monster cookies,” he chirped.

“I like cookies,” Jordan piped up, and SkeleTom peaked around Tom at Jordan.

“Great--I’ll make you all a batch--I love baking for people,” SkeleTom offered. Tom scoffed and crossed his arms.

“Kiss-up,” Tom muttered. “So--let me get this straight. No one here is a prankster? Do you all follow Mianite or something?”

Everyone thought back to Dagrun and its forced monotheism despairingly.

“I follow Dianite,” SkeleTom said. “However, the Ianite champion, Capt Capt--is one of the most notorious and devilish pranksters. He’s the only one who evades the law.” Waglington mouthed ‘Capt Capt’ in disbelief. “He might be your alternate, Jordan--was it?” Jordan nodded. SkeleTom winked at him, “it’s nice to meet a much saner and more eager version of him.” Tom looked at the two disgusted, but his eyes glimmered at the news of Jordan’s alternate.

Tucker who was sprawling on the bed chuckled. “So Jordan is Tom here, and Tom’s Jordan here. Looks like our alternates are just traded personalities of us,” Tucker commented. Sonja snorted.

“As if you were the law?”

“Hey!”

“I’ll just make friends with Capt whatever his name was,” Tom muttered.

“Capt Capt isn’t much for friends,” SkeleTom warned.

“Whatever,” Tom dismissed, staring at SkeleTom in annoyance. “Jordan--you want to go with me tomorrow hunting for supplies and mining,” Tom asked. Jordan turned his head and considered it.

“Sure thing,” Jordan said, always eager to jump headfirst into a new world and explore new technologies.

SkeleTom didn’t seem deterred by Tom’s rudeness and instead listened to them hash out morning plans ambivalently.

“Don’t you want to learn more about our fair city first? I know we’d certainly like to hear more about you.”

“Yeah sure, speaking of--what’s my alternate?” Tucker questioned.

“A farmer--the best farmer and businessman!”

“Fantastic,” Tucker dryly commented.

“Oh you’ll like him, everyone does.” SkeleTom reassured, missing the reasoning behind Tucker’s disappointment. He was clearly hoping for something more badass, but it seemed Sonja had gotten lucky on that end. She seemed quite pleased with it, actually.

“I’d love to meet the others, SkeleTom,” she smiled kindly, “and learn more about the city as well.” She had intentionally skirted around pronouncing the name for fear of butchering it. The spelling on the sign and what SkeleTom had said didn’t exactly line up. It was one of many questions for tomorrow.

“Delightful!” He cheered, mismatched eyes twinkling. “I’ll inform the others of your arrival first thing and we can offer a tour! I guarantee you’ve never seen a city like ours.”

Tucker shrugged. “Not a very high bar honestly given the places we’ve been subjected to.”

“Well, we’ll be sure to raise it nonetheless.” SkeleTom assured, motioning with his lantern as a sign of wrapping up the conversation. “I won’t bother you any further, rest well and I’ll come for you in the morning.”

Jordan and Sonja said friendly goodbyes as the alternate departed, while Tom scowled heavily.

“I hate him.” The Dianite champion hissed as soon as the door shut behind SkeleTom.

“He’s nice.” Jordan commented tiredly. He was curling up in his own bed now, folding his jacket over his nightstand. Tom eyed him disdainfully, standing at the foot of Jordan’s bed to make his point.

“Exactly.”

Jordan just shook his head and closed his eyes.

Waglington sighed, stretching out in the bed he’d claimed without removing his cloak. “He didn’t even mention mine.”

Sonja cocked her head, combing through her hair with her fingers in preparation for the night’s sleep. “Who was your alternate on Ruxomar anyway.”

“Farmer Steve wasn’t it?” Jordan offered.

“Well that makes quite a few things strange.” The wizard commented with a chuckle.

Tucker looked pained, flopping onto his side towards the wall. “Nope, not thinking about that--goodnight everyone. See you tomorrow for the touring bullshit.”

----------------------------

They were woken cruelly early to SkeleTom’s cheerful visage. The sun hadn’t even peeked over the tops of the surrounding buildings yet and the alternate was already beaming. He was offering a tray of coffee cakes that he had no doubt woken even earlier to bake fresh.

“I didn’t know if any of you had allergies, so I kept them nut free just to be safe,” he chipperly said. He held out the coffee cake tray for people to take.Simultaneously, he offered a specially wrapped plate of cookies to Jordan while Sonja and Wag dug blearily into the admittedly stellar breakfast.

He sleepily thanked SkeleTom, possessively guarding the treats from Tom who had no regard for personal space and had crawled onto Jordan’s bed, making grabby hands at the plate.

Jordan slapped his hands away, “Be nicer to SkeleTom and maybe he’ll make cookies for you too.”

"I only had time to make one batch, I apologize,” SkeleTom said to Tom who withdrew from Jordan reluctantly to look up at the two bright and cheery eyes peering at him. Tom eyed Jordan’s batch of cookies.

“Sparklez will share with me,” Tom decided.

“I will not,” Jordan countered. He had stowed the cookies on top of a vanity where he’d balanced precariously on the edge of a chair to do so. He was certain if Tom wanted the cookies he’d at least hear Tom fall over once trying to get them.

“Do make sure to try the cookies and tell me how you like them--I’m always so happy when people absolutely love them,” SkeleTom gushed. Tom threw his pillow at his alternate in annoyance. Without even glancing at Tom he caught the pillow and placed it on the edge of Jordan’s bed without a trace of malice. Tom threw his other pillow at Jordan who did frustratedly return the pillow as he tried to lace his boots up.

Beside the quarreling pair, Tucker was still pretending to be fast asleep and Sonja and Wag were discussing their takeaways from the last world. “So, think about how the last place we went to turned out. A warm welcoming city--then it turned into one god-worshipping area with capital punishment for other god following, a whole ill Ianite saga, and then evil usurpers--I think despite how nice he’s been,” Sonja inclined her head in the direction of SkeleTom, “I think we should be extremely careful.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Wag said. “Well--in any case. The gods will likely be around and we can speak with them about issues.”

Tucker sat up reluctantly, glowering at SkeleTom who had sat the tray of coffee cakes down on a table. The scent of them was alluring and he hastily stumbled out of bed and began throwing his clothes on again, muttering curses. “Mianite needs to save me from here--my allergies are going to kill me,” Tucker said. He sounded very nasally congested and when Sonja offered a look of sympathy he blinked blearily through tearing red-rimmed eyes.

“Oh, he looks gross,” Wag murmured.

“I’m sure we can find an old medication for you or something,” SkeleTom offered. “I wouldn’t want you to have a bad time here on account of allergies.”

Jordan had managed to get dressed despite his ongoing war with Tom. His hair was beyond saving, but he still ran his hand through it, trying to flatten it. He snagged a coffee cake and used his other hand to catch the crumbs. Before he could take a bite he did acknowledge the idea of the gods. “I don’t want to admit it--but according to the earlier cycle...Dianite was evil. Mianite was evil next...and we’ve heard my alternate was kind of evil…”

“Guess we can spend all our time kicking Jordan’s ass,” Tom gleefully suggested. He slammed his pillow into Jordan’s face causing him to drop the coffee cake and then withdrew the pillow before Jordan could take it.

“I’m not going to be evil,” Jordan said, “But thanks for the concern.” He spared a sad funeral-glance for the fallen coffee cake and then grabbed the one he figured was going to be Tom’s and cast a glare at Tom who stuck his tongue out. He was the least dressed of them now and refused to get dressed. “SkeleTom,” Jordan said looking to him, “is that the case? Ianite’s evil…?”

SkeleTom thought on it. He sighed sadly. “Yes...we couldn’t have seen it coming, but she was...disturbed. She tried this whole thing to turn the world evil. We managed to stop her--but this city once built to the gods has been emptied by their fear of her,” he said. He put a hand on Jordan’s shoulder. “But trust me, Capt Capt won’t hurt any of you if you stick close to us. Speaking of which--Honey should be meeting us here.”

“So, Capt Capt kills people?” Tucker asked. He was eating his coffee cake unaffected. He had spoke with his mouth half-full and SkeleTom eyed him with disdain, but his chipper smile returned regardless.

“Not anymore, although his pranks can be a little too lethal. Honey and him have worked on their differences and despite his desire for fun, he won’t push her too much. But I must caution--Capt Capt is a voracious liar. He does love to manipulate and I wouldn’t suggest spending any time alone with him,” SkeleTom cautioned. He eyed Tom again who was finally starting to get dressed. Tom looked up at him and shook his head.

“Let’s get going then,” Wag said. “I’d like some daylight hours when we’re done to explore on my own.”

SkeleTom smiled. “We’ll try our hardest---although it may take the whole day.”

“Can I opt out?” Tom asked.

“No,” Jordan answered for him.

They spent a few more moments munching on SkeleTom’s breakfast while waiting for Tom to get ready. And when it became obvious he was intentionally dragging his feet they all got up to leave, incentivising him to get his act together or be left behind.

Jordan had a feeling that’s what he wanted though, so while Tom was dragging his feet through putting his jacket on Jordan strong-armed him out the door, ignoring Tom’s attempt to cling to the door frame.

Though the early dawn light was gray and muted it offered the five heroes a much better look at their surroundings than the night prior. The bed and breakfast seemed to be situated between a boutique and a small oddities shop with a large open area, presumably meant for a marketplace, about half a block away. The best way to describe the style of build was “quaint” as the earth tone brick and wood supports gave off a small town feel despite the scale of the city. Waglington thought it matched the exposed wood trussing inside the bed and breakfast quite nicely. Overall everything was quite prim and proper, with manicured shrubbery and pristine streets.

Speaking of prim and proper, a woman who exuded such attributes was waiting for them at parade rest on the walkway a few paces from the door. She was dressed in shining armor and carried herself in such an authoritative way that meant she could only be the Honey SkeleTom had spoken of.

Sonja looked her over curiously, straightening her own rumpled clothes in slight embarrassment as everyone spilled out onto the covered porch. Honey was tall, taller than Sonja for sure, and her shoulders were broad and stiff. Her eyes were stern, creased slightly at the edges in an indication that she was older than Sonja, but the small rounded animal ears on her head proved that she was indeed Sonja’s alternate self.

Upon spotting her, SkeleTom bounded over and threw his arm around her shoulders, though she was a bit too tall to make it look comfortable.

“Good morning, Honey!” he said cheerfully. She seemed to be only tolerating his presence, “Meet our doppelgangers.”

She nodded curtly, eyeing them all as if they had already been suspected of a crime. Jordan hoped their justice system was less corrupt than Dagrun’s if this was how strict their law enforcement was. Tom was eyeing an obvious abundance of metal sitting in a crate and Jordan pinched his arm. The zombie mimicked biting him.

“Welcome to Ihatchu,” she said in an unwelcoming tone, “my name is Honey Badger, as I’m sure SkeleTom has already told you. Would you care for your tour?”

“Not that there’s a choice, right?” Tucker grumbled, still wiping sleep from his irritated eyes.

Honey Badger regarded him coldly. “No, there is not.”

“Ah, your alternate is very personable, Sonja.” Waglington stage whispered.

“You should catch her when she’s off duty,” SkeleTom interjected, “she’s much less prickly.”

Everyone found that hard to believe. Sonja ended up helping Jordan keep an eye on Tom, but soon she saw Jordan’s eyes roaming to unattended technology with feverish intent and had to start reminding him too that if he thought to helping himself they were screwed.

The tour was long. Every single important stop Honey would give a brief description of, and SkeleTom would add in a long and overflowing anecdote relating to any time he spent there. The only relief they got was when someone cut in before he could speak.

“Here is the town square,” Honey said and Sonja caught a sparkle of pride in her eyes.

It was a grand area, spacious and well decorated. All the buildings were tall, multiple stories with intricate brickwork, elaborate window sills, and tasteful wooden accents befitting a town square. There was a bank, a courthouse, a town hall, as well as what looked to be a humble Mianite temple. It was nondescript and not very large but Tucker’s red rimmed eyes lit up at the sight, eager to make some prayers that would result in him being whisked away from the allergy hell he’d landed himself in.

Lounging on the steps of it was a short, dark haired man, picking at the grout in between some stone slabs with a curved dagger. He was lying back across the stairs, tracking the arrivals with sharp green eyes. Honey stopped them short just as Tucker’s foot nearly crossed a trip wire.

“Aw, Honey--ruining my fun this early?” the voice was low and deep and Jordan could hear the oaky pirate accent he sometimes wished he had. Beside him, Tom was staring at Capt Capt with a look of raw appreciation. Jordan elbowed him.

“Don’t give my alternate that look,” Jordan hissed.

“Sparklez, he’s kind of hot--in a pirate way.”

“He has my face,” Jordan muttered.

“Did I ever say your face wasn’t hot?” Tom wiggled his eyebrows. Jordan sighed and he saw his alternate narrowing his eyes at him. The man gripped the hilt of his cutlass and peered up at Jordan. He was 5ft 5’, but his long jacket and steel-toed boots were stained with blood. What he lacked in size, his eyes made up for. The creases and sun-freckles across his face dotted the area near his eyes with the impression he had only just stepped off a ship. A ship where he had spent days peering into telescopes or into the stormy sky, bracing for death and destruction.

“Let me kill that one at least,” he grumbled, staring into Jordan’s soul. The green of his eyes darkened like fog curling off water in desolate still seas.  “I hate duplicates. Only one of me across space and time.”

Jordan couldn’t shake the chill running up and down his arms. “Sit back down, Capt,” Honey had pulled her rapier out.

“It’s Captain Captain,” he muttered darkly. “I can help with the tour--don’t I love being courteous,” he said sarcastically.

Tucker whistled lowly and stepped over the trip wire. “Jeez, Jordan you call yourself a captain--but look at this, man…?”

“Captain Captain,” the man corrected. He said nothing more as he examined the lot of them, eyes lingering hatefully on Jordan. Jordan tried to be friendly despite the threat on his life. “Well, hi--I’m Jordan.”

“You’re dead is what you are,” Captain-redundant muttered.

SkeleTom gasped dramatically. “Oh Capt, don’t be that way.” He rested his arm on Captain Captain’s head. “Capt is short and full of anger.”

“Captain Captain,” Captain Captain muttered and kicked SkeleTom’s shin, causing the other man to hop away, missing the trip wire. SkeleTom happily returned to Honey’s side, leaning on the stern woman and looking Captain Captain over with amusement. Sonja exchanged looks with Wag.

“He’s something,” she murmured.

“Something strange,” Wag agreed.

Tom was still staring mystified at Captain Captain who, despite his offer, had not decided to join them on their tour. Instead he settled back down on the steps, chewing on a cigarette and fixing his long wavy hair from where SkeleTom had mused it up with his physical contact. Tom would have tripped on the trip wire if it wasn’t for Wag grabbing his shirt collar and hefting him over it. “Oh no you don’t.”

“That’s my new best friend,” Tom told him.

Captain Captain looked the other way as if he couldn't be bothered with any of them. Tom tried to wink at him. The surly double didn’t acknowledge him.

“We’ll go see the farm next!”

“Yes,” Honey hadn’t put away her sword. “To add onto the rules I went over earlier: Unauthorized food distribution and creation is not allowed--Mericho is our supplier of food. If you are in need of money, I suggest taking on a number of jobs or if working for us is not a savory idea, I suggest you can go on mining expeditions--so as long as you follow the rules I referred to earlier. If you are in need of a reminder, feel free to ask during acceptable daylight hours. No mining past city limits. Mining shafts must not breach occupied residences. Mining shafts must be approved by city ordinance. Mining after sunset is strictly forbidden.”

“Hey, can we get a modification on some of those rules?” Tucker questioned.

“Absolutely not.”

“Then I’ll just break them,” Tom muttered. SkeleTom overheard and shot him a nervous smile.

“Honey breaks hands for rule infractions.”

“I do,” Honey confirmed.

“Those rules are kind of ridiculous,” Wag stated.

“If you’d like to petition to have a rule changed you’d need to have lived in the city for a designated amount of time--one month-- and submit your appeal in writing with neatly outlined reasons for the desired change,” Honey stated. The group of friends exchanged looks. Jordan opened his mouth, thought about it, and then carefully chose his words.

“We appreciate the hospitality, but we are new. Could we have just a week to mine at night and possibly further away from the city. We’d be willing to have an escort--but just for that week? Then we could stick to the rules?”

The law enforcement woman came to a halt. She looked to SkeleTom and then tapped pensively on her rapier hilt. “...You can have three days,” Honey decided. “I or SkeleTom will accompany you. Or the both of us if you desire to split into separate groups. Should you act of poor character, I shall revoke it.”

Tom had crossed his arms and was looking on making a break for it and Tucker looked to be a second from joining him. Sonja whispered something to Tucker along the lines of ‘if you die, it’s your own fault.’

“Thank-you,” Jordan decided.

The rest of them gave him a filthy look, even Sonja couldn’t hold back her unhappiness. SkeleTom, on the other hand, was ecstatic. He clapped his hands together. “I’m so glad you’re happy to fit in.”

“Happy,” Tom muttered. “Only one of us is an absolute brown-noser.”

Wag coughed and muttered Jordan’s name as if he was being subtle. Tucker sniggered and Sonja cracked a smile, but quickly let it fall as Jordan gave her a look.

“I’m negotiating,” Jordan argued softly.

“Oh absolutely!” Tom mocked SkeleTom’s voice. He made an obscene gesture. “Negotiating to suck up to them. What’s next, gonna ask to lick their boots?”

Honey had her back to the group, but Sonja saw her ears twitching. She was listening. She didn’t let it be known and Sonja felt a seed of worry. SkeleTom was more obvious. He was walking backwards, his eyes sparkling with delight as the group of men quarreled. Jordan’s voice pitching higher the more distressed he got. Wag making hand gestures with Tom as Jordan got too flustered and Tucker quietly laughing at it all. She seemed to be the only one watching the alternates...well, second set of alternates--they did know Mot and Steve and the presumed living alternates in their old world. So did that make this lot alternate alternates?

She might have been reading into it too much. Did it matter if these alternates were judging them? Their group dynamic was chaotic at best compared to these alternates’. But she caught SkeleTom’s eye and he just winked and turned back around, his slight skip unfaltering. If they were bothered by her watching…they didn’t show it.

Jordan had enough of their teasing and joined Sonja towards the front as Tucker, Tom and Wag fell back to continue their taunts. Jordan cast a vexed look over his shoulder. Sonja shook her head, “Ignore them.”

“Don’t worry, Jordan--or is it Sparklez?” SkeleTom had joined them, walking in-step with Sonja easily.

“It’s Jordan,” Jordan sighed.

“Sparklez!” Tom corrected from the back of the group and SkeleTom lit up, mismatched eyes creasing mirthfully at the edges as if that was the funniest joke in the world. Jordan didn’t get it.

“You’ve got something in common with Capt at least.”

“Yeah, I dunno about that. Kind of seems like he wants to kill me,” Jordan cast a look over his shoulder again to see if the pirate was still in sight, only to see Tom making a face at him. He sighed. SkeleTom traded places with Sonja and threw his arm over Jordan’s shoulder and pulled him close.

“Aw, cheer-up. I appreciate your willingness to accept our culture,” SkeleTom said.

“Thanks,” Jordan said. “But I think I’ll have to combat with Honey on some of those rules.”

“You won’t win,” Honey assured him. “But if you all behave I can see to expanding some privileges. There’s been very few people to govern over for awhile, after all,” Honey offered. Jordan sighed in relief. He had for a moment doubted himself, but he knew he wasn’t a brown-noser. He was just trying to be civil.

“I can’t promise they’ll behave,” Jordan muttered, jabbing a finger behind him.

“Suck one, Sparklez,” Tom jibed. He heard Tucker and Wag laughing.

“We’ll evaluate on a case-by-case basis,” Honey amended. Sonja frowned.

“As much as I appreciate that, I also don’t…” Honey looked to her questioningly. Sonja tucked her hair behind her shoulders and unconsciously crossed her arms. “I do like my friends and we’re not from a land with that strict of laws. Please do not kill them for it.”

Honey nodded curtly but didn’t otherwise respond. Sonja was unsure whether to take that as an affirmation or not. She let her arms uncross and dangle at her side. She tried not to let her thoughts bother her, but she kept looking to Jordan. She wanted to express that ‘You really caved too quickly’, but felt it would be rude with SkeleTom standing right there.

They were growing closer to the farms and Honey slowed the group, sidling up alongside a portion of the fence with a gate. SkeleTom disengaged from Jordan to greet the three dogs that had come to alert at the edge of the field as they grew near. They looked vicious, but at the sight of Tom’s alternate they happily wagged their tails and slobbered all over him as he bent down to pet them. Honey whistled sharply and one of the dogs detached and went sprinting into the fields to find something--or ,rather, someone.

Tucker stayed far back, eyeing the grass with disdain while Wag curiously looked over the crops. Tom had wandered towards the front and was looking between SkeleTom and Jordan suspiciously “You know I was just messing with you, right?”

“Uh-huh,” Jordan dismissed and walked away from Tom. Tom looked at Sonja in disbelief.

“God, Sparklez is an emotional bitch,” Tom muttered.

“And you aren’t?” Sonja countered. Tom looked shocked, but the expression fell away and he pettily pulled on a piece of wheat. He stuck his tongue out.

“Not as much as he is,” he pulled a piece of wheat free and was surprised when a dog came tearing at him, ripping into his pant-leg. “Ow, ow! Down Fido! Down!” SkeleTom looked up at Tom, but did nothing to call the other dog back. He was happily giving the calmer dog a belly rub. Jordan was looking at farming equipment and Honey didn’t seem to care Tom was being murdered. It ended up being Sonja’s job to convince the dog to let go.  Tom limped to join Tucker, turning up his nose and refusing to go any nearer to the crops as a man in faded blue overalls and light brown hair approached them.

“Well, I’ll be,” Mericho grinned. “Looks like we got strangers to the land after all this time,” he said amicably and he offered a hand to Sonja, the nearest. “The name’s Mericho.”

His smile was bright and cheerful, complete with perfectly straight white teeth, glimmering sky blue eyes, and a strong jawline. He looked as classically handsome as his accent had lazy twang.

“Sonja.” She greeted.

Jordan joined her and shook the man’s hand. “Jordan.”

The other three declined to come forward and so Sonja reluctantly just gestured in their direction. “Tucker’s allergic to grass. Tom’s scared of the dogs. And Wag’s the one completely oblivious.”

“Am not,” Wag called back.

“Allergies huh?” Mericho pondered with a low whistle and a tug on his overall straps, “SkeleTom, d' you reckon you have anything for that unfortunate fellow?” He ignored the dog comment, no doubt noticing the sorry state of Tom’s leg but most likely assuming he deserved it. Judging by the way the animals obediently heeled at his approached they were obviously well trained.

“Reckon I do,” he called back, mimicking Mericho’s accent and choice of diction jokingly. “I’ll have to look around for a bit though, haven’t run into this problem in a while.”

Tucker sucked in a tired breath and wiped his runny nose discreetly, looking miserable. Sonja gave him a sympathetic look before turning back to the idyllic farmer with a question.

“So, you four are the only people who live here? It’s such a big city.”

“‘Fraid so. Built it with the gods’ best intentions, but after the first-wave of people and Ianite and what have you, none came. Too many scared off by Cap’n Devil Boots over there,” Mericho said, and gestured to where Captain Captain had followed them and was now aiming a crossbow at the back of Jordan’s head. At the call-out he lowered it, muttering his full name. Tom looked at him in awe. He flashed a thumbs up to Captain Captain but the alternate scowled at him. “Those that did live here eventually had to retire away elsewhere. Cap’n No Fun is a fearsome little man.”

“Captain Captain,” he corrected. He leveled the crossbow again at Jordan’s chest and Jordan stared at him from where the pirate sat on a haybale in disbelief. “And ye be forgetting how you all played a part in it?”

The other three were strangely silent and Sonja caught a motion from SkeleTom. But when she looked to him he was smiling sadly. He shook his head at Sonja as if to say ‘he’s hopeless.’ Honey shook her head. “Don’t pay him mind, he’s like poison here. I’d see him face the law if he wasn’t too damn slippery,” she let a rare curse slip.

“And our good friend!” SkeleTom added.

“He sure is despite his flaws,” Mericho said.

“Does anyone notice he keeps trying to kill Jordan?” Wag muttered.

“He won’t do such a thing,” Honey stated. “Now will you, Captain Captain?”

He looked grateful that she said his full name and reluctantly sighed. With a small nod he lowered the crossbow. “If he falls in a trap it’s not my fault. Ye scurvy rats,” he muttered. “See you roasting on a spit with crossbow bolts through your neck and arms, you foul double.”

Jordan swallowed uneasily and SkeleTom stood and wrapped an arm around Sonja and Jordan. “Now now, Capt Capt--let’s treat our guests with some love.”

“Captain Captain,” he spat. “You saccharine sack of shit.”

“Oh, he’s a sour pus,” SkeleTom murmured and pecked Jordan on the cheek before standing beside Mericho who passed him a bag of apples. Jordan rubbed his cheek in slight shock and Tom narrowed his eyes from where he stood by Tucker. He looked to Captain Captain and attempted contact again.

“He’s evil, isn’t he?”

“Which one, lad?” Captain Captain humored.

“SkeleTom,” Tom said.

“Yup,” Captain Captain said and Honey shot him a look. “Gives ye diabetes,” he amended and Sonja didn’t miss Honey’s fed-up scowl. The moment of relative civility Captain Captain was upholding was nice--but was ruined by him immediately shooting a crossbow bolt at Tom’s feet--who yelped and, on his bad leg, was sent toppling to the ground.

“Hey!”

“My hand slipped,” Captain Captain offered. “I’ll walk ‘em back.”

“You will not,” Honey corrected. “We’re having a talk. Tonight.”

“The four of us?” Captain Captain asked amused.

Sonja couldn’t help her ears perking up. She was curious. Even Jordan was looking at them. But Honey leveled them all with a look. “It’s a private matter. We respect yours--you’ll respect ours.” SkeleTom nodded.

Mericho smiled sympathetically and flashed a warm grin. “I’ll send along some food with SkeleTom who’ll escort y’all back. Heard he wants to see Cap’n’s alternate try some cookies. You should see how his face glows when someone loves his cookies.”

SkeleTom slapped Mericho’s arm in obvious playful happiness. “You’re too nice, Meri.”

“Can’t help but be nice to a pretty man like you,” Mericho teased.

“Blech,” Tom muttered. He stumbled to his feet and leaned on Tucker who immediately pushed him off, staring queasily at Mericho and SkeleTom. “We aren’t that close,” Tucker muttered.

“What? Scared of cooties?” Tom teased.

“I’m taken,” Tucker immediately said.

“Relax,” Tom rolled his eyes up, “You’re my friend. We aren’t going to start sharing gossip and holding hands.”

“Not with how many times you haven’t washed yours,” Tucker said.

“I saw you once just use hand sanitizer after--” Tucker covered his mouth as Sonja turned towards them. She looked at Tucker questioningly and he just shook his head. His nose was still dribbling. He let go of Tom to wipe his nose and Tom looked at him disgusted. Wag was poking around, but one wave of the rapier from Honey and he let go off the tractor he was beginning to operate for fun. He dropped down and followed after the group, idling next to Jordan who was purposely avoiding Tom.

“Jordan,” Tom whined.

“No,” Jordan replied.

“Bitch.”

“Jackass,” Jordan returned.

“You love me.”

“Uh-huh,” Jordan murmured.

“Admit it,” Tom pressed and dropped back to bug Jordan.

“Are you five?” Jordan questioned. “I am not playing this with you. Go bug Tucker.”

“Tucker’s covered in snot,” Tom said. He thought of SkeleTom and tried to wrap his arm around Jordan, but Jordan immediately shoved him. Tom recovered, but he stared at Jordan in dismay. Wag walked between them to keep them from fighting.

“Tom, grow up,” Jordan told him.

“Loosen up,” Tom responded. His thoughts went south and he opened his mouth to add on, when SkeleTom butted in. Tom glowered at him, but SkeleTom was oblivious.

“I must get all of your favorite cookie flavors.”

“I like Snickerdoodle,” Wag said.

“I can’t taste shit right now,” Tucker bemoaned.

“I’ll have whatever,” Sonja said.

“And you Tom?”

“I’ll have your face smashed in,” Tom said.

“Ah,” SkeleTom’s smile crinkled his eyes. He stage whispered in Jordan’s ear. “No wonder he wants to be friends with Capt Capt!”

“Jordan’s my bitch, he doesn’t answer to strangers,” Tom suggested.

“You know, I’m considering not going with you tomorrow,” Jordan decided before answering SkeleTom, “I like peanut butter.” Jordan mouthed a countdown from three as Tom looked to him with wide glittering black eyes.

“Sparklez! That’s unfair!” Tom gasped.

“Yup--I’m ditching you.”

“Sparklez! You're traitoring me! For him!”

“I’d love to have you around--but I think I’m babysitting you guys while you go mining,” SkeleTom said. “However, you can be in my group.”

“Traitor,” Tom hissed.

“Why am I between you two again? Ah yes, so I can get spit on by Tom,” Wag murmured. Tom rubbed his mouth self-conscious. Sure--part of his mouth didn’t close from being a zombie, but he didn’t drool that much.

Sonja tuned out their bickering and Tucker’s sniffling, turning instead to look back on the fields they were leaving behind. Mericho was leaning on a fencepost and waved good naturedly as he caught her gaze. Honey and Captain Captain didn’t offer such friendly goodbyes and simply glowered at their retreating backs. She wondered what a private meeting between such polarized characters would be like but didn’t expect an invitation anytime soon.

Despite SkeleTom and Mericho welcoming them with open arms, Sonja noted that they seemed a little on edge. Containing Captain Captain’s murderous streak was probably stressful but she figured it was more along the lines of being apprehensive about new arrivals. The lone city in the sea of plains was picture perfect, and she didn’t entirely trust her friends not to mess it up either-- so in a way she understood Honey’s strict demeanor.

The sheriff's gaze still burned the back of her neck, however, and so Sonja set her eyes outward across the prairies beyond the city limits. The grand tour had taken all day, her sore feet alone murdering her. In the dying evening light she caught pinpricks of light in the distance.

| ABOUT | CHARACTERS | PLOT

[discordantplains]

Criminal

"So what are we doing now?"

Captain Captain eyed the bouncing zombie trying to catch up with his speed. "We aren't doing anything. I'm--"

"I'll follow you. I can help with pranks!" Tom practically begged, linking their arms together. 

Captain Captain pulled his arm out of Tom's and tried to pick up his pace again. Unfortunately his short legs left him at a disadvantage. "--not going home anymore. Yer going back to those phony lookalikes."

"Tucker's all sick and sneezing, Sonja and Wag are gone and Sparklez is probably with SkeleTom." Tom made sure to say his alternate's name with as much disgust as possible. 

Captain Captain raised an amused eyebrow. "That ought to be interesting. I wonder how long my double will last. He looks passive, that shameful duplicate has no chance. SkeleTom took a liking to em though?" Captain Captain fixed his gaze forward. "Hmph," he pondered it.

Tom's eyes lit up, "We can prank them!" Captain Captain went quiet and tried escaping again before Tom grabbed his arm. "You hate your alternate and I hate mine! It's perfect, we'll have so much fun!"

Before saying no Captain Captain glowered at him. The stupid zombie was clinging on to his arm near desperate. Disgusting. He clearly wasn't leaving anytime soon and his pea sized brain had managed to make a decent point. He could shoot him with his crossbow for fun if anything. 

"Alright. Ye can join me for today if ya' listen to me. I'll drown ya' otherwise."

"Yes! Capt you're so much better than Sparklez!" Tom fistbumped the air and grabbed on to Captain Captain trapping him in a tight hug. Captain Captain immediately took his arm and threw him on his back. 

Tom yelped when he hit the ground. He rubbed his arm and checked to make sure it hadn’t been pulled free. He wouldn’t want to go to Sparklez to get his arm restitched with SkeleTom around.

"Captain Captain,” came the correction.

Tom watched in awe as he continued to walk on at a more normal speed, wavy hair flowing behind him as he pulled out a dagger and started sharpening it. Tom scrambled back up, ignoring the pain stretching on his side.  

"Teach me how to do that."

"No."

Tom pouted, "How did you become such a badass?" He scoffed "And I get stuck with Jordan?"

"How’d I get stuck with ye?" Captain Captain mumbled.

"What was that?"

Captain Captain faced him with a fixed glare. "I said how’d I get stuck with ye," He said right to Tom's face making sure he'd hear him. His scar-littered complexion was sunbleached and the malice in his eyes clear.

Tom blinked. He saw Captain Captain's nonchalant expression and he couldn’t help but laugh. Captain Captain's glare didn't waver. 

"Thank gods you have a good sense of humor, gods know Jordan doesn't. You're funny Capt."

"Captain Captain." Captain Captain grumbled.

"So, now that we're best friends--"

"No."

"--what can I call you?" Tom tried to grab his arm again.

Captain Captain yanked it away. "Captain Captain, nothin' else--"

"I could give you a sick nickname!"

"Ye will not unless yer looking to lose a foot--"

Tom continued, "Captain Captain is too long. How about Capt?"

"Captain Captain."

"No, that’s what SkeleTom calls you." Tom said his name mockingly, repeating it in the kiss up way Jordan did. "Cap'n?"

"Captain Captain."

"Nah that's too close to Capt." Tom scratched his chin in thought, "CaptCapt?"

"Captain Captain,” Captain Captain corrected under his breath. The second time Tom incorrectly said his name his eye twitched. “Captain Captain."

"Cappy? Like--’hey Cappy!’" Tom half waved, exampled greeting with the nickname. 

"Captain Captain. Captain Captain,” he tossed his dagger in the air, fingers stilling as if his muscles betray him with their desire to impale it in Tom’s throat.

Tom saluted with a wacky grin. "O’ Captain my-Captain?"

"Captain Captain," he deadpanned.

"Captain Pirate? Pirate Captain? You're more of a captain than Sparklez anyways."

"Captain Captain. Captain Captain." Captain Captain's eye twitched again. He sharpened his dagger loudly, scraping the metal with as much force as he could. His dagger looked ready to cleave through bone. 

"Maybe Captain Crunch? I feel like I heard that somewhere."

"Captain Captain."

"How about Captain SexyPants, huh?" Tom elbowed him and sent a wink that went ignored as he stared ahead, barely containing his anger in a muttered 'Captain Captain.'

"Oh, I know!" Tom exclaimed, even more excitement in his eyes. He turned to Captain Captain like a kid looking to please their new favorite friend. 

Captain Captain clenched his jaw "No, no nicknames--"

"Captain Not-Sparklez" 

Captain Captain gripped his dagger tightly. His knuckles were white and his eyes flickering with murderous intent. "Captain. Captain."

"Better Jordan it is!" Tom exclaimed with petty joy, having completely blocked out everything Captain Captain said while he was thinking of names.  

"Captain Captain." Captain Captain said through his teeth, his dagger shooting straight down, landing besides Tom's foot. He turned around a sharp corner, out of Tom's sight in an instant.

"Hey! It almost hit my foot--wait up! You dropped your--actually, I'm keeping this now." Tom pulled the dagger from the ground and shoved it in a scabbard attached to his belt. He caught up with Captain Captain who managed to get very far down the street in a very short time. 

Out of breath, Tom jogged after him. His bet was on Captain Captain forgetting he had lost the dagger and Tom would keep it. He'd have the best weapon compared to his friends who had little to nothing with how Honey watched them.

Tom already tried and failed to threaten going rogue, but Honey had left him and his threat with a glare. Wordlessly she had dismissed him, turned on her heel and left. Tom had gaped at her empty space. No one had done that--he always got an answer, she just--left! The second time he mentioned it he got a very simple, "I wouldn't advise that sort of behavior." He wasn't scared of her. Not even in the slightest. 

Tom traced a pattern that decorated the dagger's handle. It looked like the ocean in the sea green metal, and Tom could see the mist and fog over grey water and sharp waves leading to an island. A fallen palm tree, small and firmly engraved caught his finger nail as he traced it. All of the designs lead right to the dagger's blade. He slid it back in his scabbard. 

"So how'd you land here anyways? Why didn't you explore the ocean and fight narwhals or some shit? Why'd you stay here?"

"Why’do ye ask so many questions?" Captain Captain asked. Tom had sapped the life from him. It's only been an hour and he's already wearing him down. He should've never let him haggle him.

"Why don't you answer my questions? I am helping you after all." Tom said with nerve Captain Captain couldn’t believe. A gnat batting at him shouldn’t have such gills.

Captain Captain mimicked a blank stare. "The Gods called on me to find a land for them. I was a wee bit late, but I did my duty."

Tom watched as Captain Captain kicked a rock. "Evil Ianite?" He missed Captain Captain's eye roll.

"Yes, Ianite." The rock jumped and rolled, running until it fell into a small ditch and was out of sight. "The lass called upon me, only me. My crew had long died." Tom glanced at the pile of rocks filling the little ditch like bodies. He looked back at Captain Captain and he was lost in his old world of sharp waves and dreary seas. Of crazed nights brought by never ending isolation and the delirious hinge on hysteria and imbalance, of deranged imaginations that would drive one to insanity. 

"That's sick! Can you describe it in like, a pirate-y metal song? Imagine how hardcore of a head-banger that'd be! Gods, Jordan's such a pussy bitch, he just washed up on Mianite but you actually fought on the ocean, for real! That's why you're Captain Not-Sparklez. Better Jordan is simpler though. Meh, I'll just switch between them."

"It's Captain Captain. And ye better shut your trap about my double." Captain Captain stopped abruptly in front of some old backstreet. "Captain Captain, learn it for Ianite's sake."

Tom, who wasn't paying attention, walked straight into Captain Captain's back. Captain Captain looked back at him with a fixed glare before facing the building again. It was exactly like all the rest, painted prim and sharp, and through the ornate window, matching furniture decorating the inside of a cozy living room. But dust layered over the window, dust layered over everything. It was exactly like all the other houses: abandoned. 

Tom didn't linger on it too long. Eyes returning to his new friend. 

How cool was he? Being best friends with the person who’s responsible for the emptiness of the town--and a real professional pirate captain at that. 

"Why are we at this ratty building, I thought we were going to do pranks? Let's go prank people!" Tom whined, leaning on his leg.

Captain Captain kicked the building with enough force to clear a layer of dust off the window and startle a few small spiders building webs. Tom watched in amazement as a trap door opened in front of him. "What's down there?"

"My stuff. Stay up here." Captain Captain got ready to jump down before Tom threw his arm in front of him and leaned close.

"I don't mind being taken home before the first date." Tom waggled his eyebrows with a grin. He hoped to fluster the Captain, as he could easily do with Jordan, but he was sorely disappointed. 

Captain Captain stayed stoic. "Stay 'ere unless you want your dead body to be thrown into a ditch and washed out to sea."

Tom frowned. Geesh, hard audience. He had to appreciate Jordan's inability to respond to half of what Tom threw at him. It was more gratifying to have someone stammer and flush, or get infuriated from mere words, then it was to be ignored. 

As Capt Capt jumped down, hair flowing after him, letting the trap door shut behind him. "Thrown in a ditch and washed out to sea," Tom mocked, staring at the hidden entrance. "Even Sparkly-asshole would've had a better reaction." Tom grinned wickedly, "No one tells me what to do." and kicked the building as hard as he could.

"OW, OW OH SHIT, MY FOOT." Tom clutched his foot, his knee in the air hopping around in pain. The trap door opened. On closer examination--he noticed the “kicking the building” part was really Captain Captain had kicked a button. Tom rubbed his foot.

He eyed the trap door for a moment. Was this a smart decision?

Better question, Tom humored: who cares?

He stretched his foot and looked down. He jumped in-- "YOLO, OH NOO--FUCK" and the trap door closed behind him. 

Tom tumbled onto dirt.

"By gods, yer so loud, Honey could'a heard you from the town hall!"

Tom chuckled dusting himself off as he got up, "I'm not afraid of her."

Captain Captain hummed, wrapping some rope around his arm. Tom scanned the room. It was more of a bunk than a room; it was huge. There was a single light hanging in the center, every so often it swung a little, dirt above trickling down onto his head. He brushed it off. The shelves were lazily stocked with all kinds of ropes and knives. A stash of TNT and weapons lay disorderly across barrels, crates and the ground. The sight entranced Tom, but what really got his attention was a stray flint and steel. It was within grabbing range and he felt his fingers twitch. "Where'd you get all this stuff from?" he asked, inching his way to a crossbow similar to Captain Captain's.

"Didn't I tell you to stay up there?" Captain Captain growled, snatching away the crossbow before Tom could get his hands on it. Captain Captain casually reached into a shelf when he passed by and put a set of pouches into his pirate coat's pockets. Tom followed him, brushing past a stray wooden chair, taking mental note of where the flint and steel was. "I'm not afraid of you either." Tom smirked at Captain Captain.

Captain Captain was fuming. He glanced at Tom trying to steal more weapons. He didn't have any common sense. They--Tom and the doubles--obviously had no idea who they were dealing with. 

"Grab that tripwire from the shelf over there." Tom beamed, pride filling him from the smile Captain Captain gave, rushing for the tripwire nearly tripping over his own feet. To others it may seem wicked, scars ruining what was once careless and ecstatic, or eyes missing light, the light dangling above making shadows over his face covering a half-grin that was cold, empty and fake but to Tom it was what he aspired for. And when the moment ended and Captain Captain turned around and started walking away, Tom rushed after him. 

He followed Captain Captain to a passageway that definitely wasn't there before. He must've opened it when Tom got him the tripwire. The passageway was short, especially for Tom who was just that extra two inches taller than Jordan and Captain Captain, and it only got smaller and smaller. Tripwires and pressure plates he could barely see littered the way and Tom struggled to pass them hunched over. He felt his knees digging into his ribcage, arms scraping against the walls leaving him with a few nicks here and there. He followed Captain Captain's footsteps, trying to match his smooth pace over every trap. Just above Captain Captain he could see light. 

Captain Captain shared Jordan's ability to make traps, and looked to be the better of the two. Just another thing Captain Captain was better at than old Sparklydick. Tom started planning ways to make an even better trap. He'd shove Tucker or Jordan into it. 

He just barely stepped over a tripwire when they got out. Tom squinted in the sun, buildings all alike filling his view once more. He looked at where he exited from. A small storm cellar besides a house was the tunnel's cover. They were on a completely different street and if Tom looked down the block he'd see how decently close it was to SkeleTom's house--just a few streets away. Captain Captain closed the storm cellar's wooden doors and faced Tom with a deadly glare. 

"Ye will not tell anyone about my bunker. No one. Not Honey, farmer boy or baker belly. Ye will not tell any of yer friends, especially my double or ya' wish yer God would spare ye--"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I won't tell anyone one, got it! Let’s go!”

The pranks were simple enough in nature, and Tom placed the tripwire as directed just in-time to have Captain Captain pull him out of view as Mericho came walking past. He looked to be about to meet up with SkeleTom when his foot crossed the tripwire and an arrow cut through his rucksack, opening the bottom of the cloth and spilling out all of his contents. 

Immediately, from down the block SkeleTom scurried over to help Mericho pick up his goods and Captain Captain laughed quietly, retreating down the street and leaving Tom to follow after him. Tom was awestruck and he found himself buzzing with energy. “That was so well thought out--and you did it so quick!”

“Aye,” Captain Captain remarked. 

Tom eyed the sky warily. It was getting late. “Can we do this tomorrow?”

Captain Captain fixed him with a look. Barely hidden disgust etched into his features--suddenly the look broke away to a grin. “Tell ye what--I’ll let ye scurvy join me--if ye can pull off a…” Captain Captain gestured grandly with his hands. “An explosive prank, around late noon. Savvy? I’ll point ye to a house and all ye’ll need to do is make it go up in flames” “I can do that easily,” Tom boasted.

“Good, good,” Captain Captain purred. “Then we’ll see, tomorrow.”

…. 

Tom was the last one out of the bed and breakfast--besides the snotty mess that was sniffling from the bed to the right of his. He peered over at the shaking ball of mucus and cringed. Nasty. 

Tom threw his covers off to the side, far from Tucker, and careful inched around his bed, staying far away from any stray blanket or pillow that could've come into contact with his nose. Tom was inches away from freedom, ready to dash past the other empty beds and go straight for Jordan's food chest when he heard Tucker from under his comforter. Tom ignored him and tried to sneak along--he was two steps away from being out of Snot Land. 

"Ah--" Tom froze, feeling his finger tips go numb. "Ah--" He was so close! "AH--" No--Not like this! 

"CHOO!" Tom dove head first to the ground, watching his life flash before his eyes as Tucker's sneeze flew right above him in slow motion. Tucker's little mucus cocoon shifted a bit with a sad groan. 

Tom recoiled in distaste thinking of all the ways he could kick out Tucker so he could get a decent night of sleep--his stupid sniffles, sneezes and snores probably kept everyone up. Not that he was able to sleep well with all the buzzing excitement of burning a house with Captain Captain in the afternoon anyways but Tucker deserved to get booted--no he didn't need a reason to kick him out, already hearing his friends' protest.

Tom sauntered down to the wine cellar, half expecting Jordan to be there working on the portal or at least asleep on it. He found the room empty, a pillow and blanket discarded in a corner, and his shoulders sagged instantly. So much for bragging about his New Best Friend. 

Having no sense of anything or anyone but himself, Tom was unable to see the little change to the blue prints or the lack of progress made to further their plans home. The room was all the same to him save a few baggies he noticed laying idly by stray blueprints. Tom, in his curiosity, snatched one and opened it. A few crumbs and a half eaten cookie fell out. He eyed what was left of the cookie and the empty baggies.

SkeleTom. 

Tom growled, throwing the baggie to the floor and glaring at it with more disdain than he did when Tucker snored. He stomped on the cookie out of pettiness--already seeing them laughing together in the wine cellar over a bag of cookies his alternate had so kindly made--and prowled back to the chests, going through Jordan's. He grabbed the last bit of bread and meat that was left--not that he'd miss it anyways, seeing how SkeleTom's been catering to his hunger, Tom thought spitefully. 

He rubbed his foot on the crushed cookie, a scowl stretched over his face, unaware of the unfinished blueprint he was crushing beneath it. 

With one last kick to Jordan's pillow, Tom ascended back to the room unsatisfied imagining it was SkeleTom's face as each step echoed through the empty BnB. Near empty anyway, the mucus monster upstairs was probably awake now, assuming he was even able to sleep with how clogged his nose was.

Thank gods Tucker wasn't leaving anytime soon, Tom celebrated as he walked into the room. He'd get snot all over CaptCapt and Tom couldn't make a bad second impression. His future best friend forever would not tolerate such disgusting company. Tom would have to kick Tucker out if he came and Captain Not-Sparklez would probably be grateful to have him left behind…

"Tucker! Tucker, get the fuck up" Tom grabbed Jordan's pillow and swung it as hard as he could. Feathers flew into the air. 

"What--Tom, stop it--Tom--"

"Get up!" Tom swung at his face one more time and carefully picked up the cleanest corner with two fingers and threw it on the floor. Better Jordan's pillow than his. "You're hanging out with me and Better Sparklez today. Stop being gross and get dressed." He'll bring Tucker along and kick him out to make himself look better. A perfect plan.

"No, I feel horrible,” Tucker said and with a small cough he rolled over. Tom nudged him. A groan answered. He saw two brown eyes look at him in the huddled mess. “SkeleTom's medication didn't help at all." Tucker shoved his face into his pillow. Tom scowled at the mention of his alternate. He snatched Tucker's pillow from under his head. 

"I don't give a shit, come on."

Tucker uselessly brought up his arms to defend himself from Tom's attacks before giving up and pulling his covers over his head. "I'll get up in ten minutes." Tucker's voice came out even more muffled and congested from under the comforter. "And give my pillow back you jackass."

Tom scoffed and aimed directly for his head. "I can't wait for you; catch up with us. Be extra snotty when you come!" He ignored Tucker's groan and slammed the door behind him. 

Tom squinted in the sun, getting whiplash from the sudden heat and light of midday. The zombie part of him was naturally prone to night, keeping him alert and ravenous for mischief and the part that keep him conscious was used to lurking under the cover of dark.  

Excited for the day ahead of him, Tom was practically skipping his way to Captain Captain's secret dirt basement. He idly tore Jordan's food into bits, anticipation rolling off of him like waves. Focused on breaking up the near stale food, his feet were leading him without thought and he hadn't bothered to make sure he wasn't being followed--forgetting the one rule Captain Captain had gave him the day before. Even though he didn't know it, he was lucky Tucker had decided to hang back instead of going with him straight to Captain Captain's bunker. 

These thoughts hadn't even crossed the back of his mind as he munched on the meat--he was always more of a carnivore who snacked much later during the day and night times--walking in oblivious bliss and collecting bits of the bread he refused to even taste.

Growing steadily bored of walking wherever his feet took him and not having anymore meat to eat, Tom decided to take a good look over the town. It was well kept, neat clean streets and a nice quiet neighborhood were made of isles of empty houses. Tom was ready to wreak havoc on the peacefulness just as he'd done for Mianite and Ruxomar. Out of everything, what did catch his eye was a crow picking at dirt by the street he was strolling on, a small cluster of mushrooms nearby it.

Tom paused to observe it--more like stare it down--until it stared right back at him. Tom tilted his chin up smirking with his height over it--SkeleTom held a few inches over him and it only gave more reason to hate him, especially when he made short jokes and quips at him even though stupid ole Jordan was shorter than both of them. Tom, in a miraculous moment of awareness, threw a piece of bread at the crow.

The crow only stared into his soul, beady eyes looking straight into his black and red ones. Tom glared when the crow poked at the bread only to step over it and give a rattling squawk in disapproval. It's caw was hoarse and empty, seeming near dead as Tom himself. He threw another piece of bread, this time more impatient. 

"Eat it you stupid bird. I'm giving you food."

The crow jumped from the bread and cawed again, sounding just as irritated as the zombie was. Tom hurled the last of the bread pieces back at it, a scowl finding its way back on him. 

The crow gave a set of angry clicks and caws before flying right at Tom. Tom shrieked when it tried to nip at him as it passed. It turned back and swooped a second time, successful in pecking him this time. 

"Ow! What the fuck--get off of me! Shoo!" Tom, with much force, got it to stop grabbing at whatever skin was visible and fly away with more hollow screeches. He watched it fly off towards a fenced off area and out of curiosity he scanned the area for more of them. There were no animals, no clear group of crows waiting to attack except for the few hanging around the area surrounding Mericho's farm by the other side of the town.

Tom's feet carried him on and he looked up to find himself at the building hiding the bunker. It was then that he realized that Captain Captain hadn't told him where to meet with him. He felt a flash of fear--what if he went to the wrong spot? What if he didn't show up?

He perished the thought, let it burn to a charcoal crisp with a sharp crack and let it bleed into an annoyance. He just wants to burn a building and cause mischief with a side of shenanigans. Where was he?

Tom's foot was tapping so impatiently it was a surprise it hadn't just popped off. He started pacing and pacing turned out to be more of a little wiggle.

"I’m waiting, I'm waiting. I'm waiting for my new best friend! Who will be with me...what rhymes with friend--till the end! And I’m waiting, I’m waiting. I'm waiting to set a fire! To Jordan's asshole! And SkeleTom's...asshole, asshole what...SkeleTom's arsehole! Or...house...house with--coal!"

Tom had finished his little dance with a twirl and in a moment of near terror he caught Captain Captain's eyes and froze.

Captain Captain had changed his pirate attire for something a little more...fitting--for a Captain such as himself, Tom thought gawking.

He had kept his badass pirate boots and black jeans but this time he had a white v-neck that rivaled Jordan's--and revealed a lot more chest hair--a navy blue top with no sleeves laid over it. He had his white shirt sleeves rolled up and in his hand was his pirate coat, the really cool one with the silver metallic buttons. What really caught his eye, besides the chest hair, was the loose bun holding up some of his hair, letting the rest of it flow behind him at shoulder length. He could see some stray curls freely shaping his face and a small, single braid among the hair that wasn't in the bun.

Tom nearly fell on his face as he gaped, feeling heat rise up his neck.

Captain Captain glared at him. It was too early in the day to be dealing with him but then again...he was going to help so he settled on a more reasonable answer: "What the fuck are ye doin'?"

Tom blinked. Then he blinked again and forced his mouth closed. Tom could wither under the cool gaze and suave curl of his mouth, a scar running by it drawing the line between a scowl and what Tom saw as a cheeky grin. "What are you doing?"

"Me eyes arr' up 'ere." Captain Captain growled. Tom was swooning now, the pirate accent and low rumbling growl officially capturing the attention of his whole being. 

"Stop drooling, it's disgusting." 

Tom covered his exposed mouth, too dazed to be self conscious. He was still in a state of shocked awe and admiration when Captain Captain pressed a burlap sack into his arms.

"What's--What's this?" Tom poked at the sack, recovering from his stupor.

Captain Captain's smirk made his knees go weak, "For the house."

….

Tom stared up at the up at the house. From a distance it looked like the rest surrounding the square, blurred behind Tom's view, but standing before the little porch he could see every detail.

Every bit of flammable wood plank painted grey, all the uncared for loose planks with chipped paint that would burn away with the rest, the wooden floor and staircase that was going to take down the second story in a flash of blazing flames--he was suddenly hyper aware of it all.

"You want me to burn this one?"

Tom turned to face Captain Captain, who's teasing eyebrow raise and grin made his grip slack, releasing the bag to the ground. He watched star-gazed as Captain Captain strutted over and swooped for the bag with a quick squat, rising right back in Tom's face. 

"Unless ye can't. Ye can, can’t ya?"

Tom's breath hitched at the way Captain Captain dangled the bag lazily between two fingers, his heart skipping a beat at the playful taunt. He snatched the bag.

"Of course I can. I've done worse before" Tom exclaimed with his own lopsided smile, already going through the contents it held. Captain Captain didn't wait a beat.

"I’m sure ye have." He razzed Tom, his voice grating, and it almost made Tom drop the flint and steel he took out--taking the compliment straight to his heart. 

'Your friends never compliment you. You don't do anything good.’ A voice that sounded like his with a hint of the original Dianite's voice underneath crowed at him smugly and Tom buried it again, pushed it far away, as deep as he could. He murmured to himself, 'Captain Captain thinks you're good. He likes spending time with you. Don't disappoint him. He's your best friend.’ He dug deeper into the bag. 

"TNT?" Tom asked, "Capt you shouldn't have." He gushed with a dangerous glint in his eyes as he held it up. Tom would've sworn on his life that Captain Captain had sent him a wink worth dying for.

"Captain Captain. Obviously, how else ar' ye planin' to get it done?"

Tom eyed over the explosive with hunger. He was the only one who got to do this--stand besides Captain Captain, hold the fate of a whole house in his hands. None of his friends could dream of being in his position, not Wag, Tucker or Sonja. Not Jordan. No one.

"Ye better not wussy out." Captain Captain ribbed.

"Not even the Gods could stop me." 

Captain Captain raised an eyebrow, eyeing the zombie and the TNT. His eyes drifted over the area before taking a step off to the side. "I'll be back."

Tom turned immediately, his focus back on Captain Captain. "Where are you going? You aren't going to watch?"

Captain Captain pointed a thumb over his shoulder, "I’m gonna get some stuff." Tom pouted and before he could speak he continued, "Might even bring mor' TNT for ya."

Tom's face lit up, greedy for more. "Be back soon! Wait--don't you want to watch? We're the dynamic duo, Tom and Better Jordan!"

Captain Captain's mouth flickered before curling again, and Tom felt pride flood his veins, “I'll be watching." Tom followed his sauntering figure for a moment, watching as he put on his coat, eyes drifting over his hair before he turned back to face the building.

The building stood tall and empty before Tom but he felt taller, bigger. The TNT was weighted in his hands and the flint and steel pressed deep into his palm. He hadn't felt this strong since he became MechaDianite for a few hours. Every prank, every scandalous night of shenanigans, every escape, it all felt the same. It was intoxicating.

He swaggered up to the building and took another good look at it. It was empty and wooden--why would anyone make their house wooden? They were just asking for it to catch fire.

Tom put down the TNT in the doorway. He fiddled with the flint and steel in his fingers. All it took was one click and the grey house would turn into colorful bursts of red and orange. 

"Captain Captain." Captain Captain murmed bitterly as he turned straight into an alleyway. He had tried to hold his breath tightly for a good moment, refusing to repeat his name, but it took him over regardless. He swiftly jumped, grabbing on to a decorative trim and he climbed onto the terrace of a building opposite to the one the nitwit zombie was in. He watched from the shadows as Tom put down the TNT. 

His eye twitched again recalling Toms stupid remark “TNT? Capt you shouldn’t have.” What else would it be? How did the idiot think he was gonna bring the house down? He nearly reintroduced his name on instinct his head replaying the way Tom said Capt like a broken, squeaky record player—his eye twitched again. 

Every time he thought he could handle the somehow-sentient-zombie he found he could barely contain his annoyance. Captain Captain hummed a low note, his low oaky voice echoing in the alleyway behind him. Not a single soul heard him and not a single soul still alive had heard the entrancing pirate shanty. It was familiar, one he made himself and used while he did this and that. The words came out on their own as he watched the idiot below.

“I'm sick in the head and I haven't gone to bed, since I first came ashore from me slumber, For I spent all me dough on the lassies, don't you know, Far across the western ocean I must wander” 

Tom felt the tips of his fingers tingle with anticipation. A grin covered his whole face.

He brought up the flint and steel. Excitement was in every fiber of his being. 

A loud click and snap echoed through the house.

Tom was right in front of the porch when the staircase was destroyed and watched as fire spread through the first floor. 

The flames licked at his sides, stray embers making their way in the open air. He could see ash starting to fall on his suit. Thrill overtook him as he stood before his creation, right on the line of safe and danger. 

He felt exhilaration and happiness overflowing in his face and he had to giggle. Captain Captain must be so impressed--Tom was! And then the giggles turned into laughter, feeling heat on his cheeks.

The fire twisted, popping and crackling and then Tom couldn't tell what was louder--the fire or his cackling? 

Tom was free, he was powerful, he had the confidence of a god, he was uncontainable. No rules, no consequences, no worries. And he raised his arms, flint and steel in either hand, letting the fire warm him, laughing with pure happiness. 

Captain Captain watched the fire eat the building alive, Tom laughing like a madman before it, near catching fire. He was just asking to be caught.  Normally the explosive and fire would've brought a smile to his face, but he wasn't waiting for that. 

"'And it's all for me grog, me jolly, jolly grog', we sing, 'All for me beer and tobacco,’ Well I spent all me tin on the lads n lassies drinking gin, Across the tempting ocean I must wander, they sang as we sail."

Nothing could make this better, Tom thought, except burning another building--Better Jordan! Tom scanned the area looking for Captain Captain, he said he was going to be watching--or was he getting TNT. Instead when he turned to his left, towards the square, and saw Tucker running up to him. He looked tired--not that he didn't before--and scared. Served him right.

"What took you so long--" Tom was cut off when he felt his breath escape him, his throat caving in painfully and he was on his back, a knee pressing hard into his solar plexus.

Captain Captain felt a tug at the corners of his lips. ‘Blow a man down, bring a spring upon her cable. Aye, no men run a shot across the bow, at me face, I sail, I sail, wander I must I sail.’

Tom floundered underneath Honey Badger, desperate for air. What the hell was she doing! She pressed her knee deeper into his stomach, trapping him. His chest seized from the pain, he could feel the ghost of his heart hammering a hole to escape it in his chest. Undead--more like he wished he was, Dianite take pity.

The pirate leaning on the railing of the terrace smiled, watching Tom choke, his eyes begging for air--his precious breaths being taken from the flames and the Honey Badger above him.

Said Honey Badger locked eyes with the Captain. He grinned. Then the farmer's alternate caught his gaze. Captain Captain's eyebrows furrowed and his chin tilted up further looking down upon him, before he broke out another smirk, looking right back. 

"My name is Captain Captain, my God's laws I did forsake, Upon my name a curse I take, as I sailed, as I sailed."

He shook his head and turned the corner of the terrace and dropped back into the alleyway, out of sight.

Tom flailed desperately, his eyes catching sight of the dagger he stole from Captain Captain. Where was Capt?

A squeak escaped him when Honey increased her pressure.

"Get off me lady!" Tom kicked the air helplessly, "I didn't do nothing! What the fuck have I ever done to you! I ain't done shit! Let me go! Captain will come back and make you pay! I'll burn every fucking house down to the ground, then you'll regret this! I'll kill you!"

Tom screeched with all the breath he had, listening to Tucker's weak defenses for him. 

Tom felt air flood back into his lungs and for a second he wondered how Tucker had done it. He rolled to his stomach to get up, until he felt a sharp yank, his hair feeling as though it was being ripped free, and with a sudden painful impact he saw blood on the cobblestone. His mouth had that funny copper taste to it and he knew it was his blood. Tom lay stunned. Who the fuck did she think she was?

He tried to escape again, ready to fight till death and after--and then he found himself digging into the ground completely. His fingers clawed at any free dirt as a her knee dug into his kidneys. She ruined everything!  His thoughts and fight were getting dimmer, his chest was heaving now, his eyes brimming with unwelcome tears and his jaw aching against the cobblestone. 

"I'm taking him in."

Tom cursed her out left and right, demanding he be released. They couldn't throw him in jail for this!

"...Griefing was against the law in our dimension as well, I’m sure there’s some sort of explanation that would…" He heard Tucker continue to fail to bring his freedom. What happened to the trials? The oh so fair trials he could escape and make a run for it?

"How many times will you have to defend the actions of your friend, preemptively or in response to his misdeeds, before you take a critical eye to his moral character."

Tom growled, searching his face wildly from its place pressed into the ground, threatening as much as he could for help. Tucker you better think of something or so help me Dianite--

"I’ve known him long enough to make my judgements.” Tucker argued. "You aren’t the only Mianite champion around anymore.”

“Reconsider that statement.” 

Tom could feel the poison in her words, the cold threat freezing his core. For a moment Tom wondered if they were going to fight--not that Tucker stood a chance, but Tom could use the opportunity to bolt.

Captain Captain listened with contempt as Tom got dragged away to the town's jail, his back against the building on a ledge opposite of the porch, strong words and spit flying left and right out of the zombie's ugly yap.

Captain Captain's song layered over Tom's pathetic cries like waves.

"And being cruel still my gunner I did kill, I was sick and nigh to death, as I sailed."

"Let go of me! Tucker!"

"And his precious blood did spill, as I sailed, as I sailed." 

"Tucker, help me! She can't fucking take me to jail! Tucker? Tucker, you bitch, help get her off of me!"

"I was sick and nigh to death and I vowed with every breath."

"Tucker! Sonja? Wag..? Someone, help me! Captain Captain?"

"To walk in wisdom's ways when I sailed, when I sailed."

"Help me!"

….

A light breeze swept over Ihatchu, golden wheat fluttering lightly under the early morning sun. 

It was...quiet. Peaceful, one might say. Tranquil, even. The crows certainly thought so.

A murder of crows perched themselves carefully on fences, not a worry on any of their minds despite their food sources starting to become more moribund. 

Speaking of crow-like meals in Ihatchu...

A rather dead-eyed crow watched as someone stumbled onto the cobblestone path that connected the town jail to the city square. It fluttered its wings and sprung forward a little, bouncing. 

It cawed, head tilted to the side, eyes trained on the person as they scrambled off of the ground in a haste, crying out an ugly noise as it held its hand close to its chest. 

In a quick misstep and tumble, the thing fell to the ground. The crow decided it looked oddly like a monster--not ones that limp at night but the ones they've seen. The ones that lay still and rot beneath the plains.

Yet this one was moving, and moving quickly too. The crow was able to recognize its movements and watched the man collect himself and stand again. 

No one had rescued Tom that night. 

...

"Tucker, Sonja, Wag--Tucker! Tucker get the fuck back here! Tell this bitch to let me go! Tucker!"

Tom squeaked as Honey twisted his arm further behind his back. Any further and she'd pop his arm off. He could see the jail right ahead of them.

"Be quiet."

...

The crow was very surprised when it saw no one following after. The monster was looking behind itself though, the man's red pupils constricting from the sudden light and pure fear, walking as fast as it could away from the jail it had been dumped from. It had been let go...and was still running too. How odd.

...

Tom tried his best to turn his head, Honey's hold on him leaving no room for movement.

She wasn't actually going to jail him. No one was stupid enough to try and contain him. He started thrashing his legs when it finally occurred to him that they weren't stopping, hoping he could find an escape. Her grip was making his arm go numb, stinging pins and needles were being pulled and twisted into a painful flare of fire that spread through his whole arm.

"Sonja! Drag Tucker's ass back here! Sonja--Sonja, I know you can hear me! Sonja!" Tom couldn't see anyone, but one of them had to be nearby. 

...

The sun was barely touching the horizon when Tom had been dragged from his sniveling heap in the jail cell and thrown onto the ground outside. Honey gave him a tired look, and said, “Go on then--step out of line again and it’ll be your wrist I’ll break.”

Tom went as fast as his legs could carry him--running proved to be difficult when he kept turning to look over his shoulder and his legs shook. 

That bitch is insane! They never had such punishments in Mianite--yeah the gods could smite you or your stuff could be stolen but they never broke hands in retaliation. He held his hand tenderly to his chest.

...

"Stop moving."

Honey's iron grip only got stronger as they entered and Tom's shriek could've shattered the jail's windows.

"Sonja! What the fuck--Wag! Can one of you--Waglington! Let go of me! You can't--"

"You're going to get yourself more injured."

Tom could feel his arms start to twitch, tensing and freezing in panic. Honey's tone had made the warning a threat and left no room for argument. What is she going to do to him?

....

Tom's frantic feet had brought him inside a random house. He clutched his hand, tears started to sting at the corners of his eyes. His fingers were twisted in a horrid way and were starting to swell, tips turning a sickening purple.

All of this because of a stupid house?

...

"Wag!" Tom frooze, stopping his wiggling when they stopped in front of a cell. One of Honey's hands moved to hold his shoulder. She wouldn't. She can't!

The cell was old. Like, really old. Disgustingly so. Tom suddenly wished he was back at the BnB next to Tucker and his snot infested bed. The cell was made of stone bricks. Cold and miserable stone bricks with mold growing in the corners. It was dark. There was only one window and not only did it have bars blocking out a potential escape but it was too high for anyone to look through. 

...

Tom leaned against a wall by the door, head dipping low as he sunk down. His breaths were shallow and ragged. He's fine, he's safe, she's gone, he's safe, she's not coming. He's okay.

It had to be a curse, Tom sniveled, a sick and twisted, inhumane curse to hear a heart that wouldn't ever beat again hammer in his chest and ears. 

...

Tom couldn't stop his panic from rising, breath shallow and ragged from just looking at the cell. Honey was speaking, her voice was stern and as cold as the cell. He couldn't hear anything she was saying over the pressure building in his head. 

She can't do anything to him. A chilly square of stone can't contain him!

No one--no, nothing could stop him! He's broken out of trials before. He's snuck his way into vaults. He took what he wanted and didn't give a fuck what anyone had to say about it. Tom had gone rogue! He started a rebellion! He broke out Steve from a jail! He challenged a king! He didn't give a single ass wipe to anyone who stood in his way! 

For fuck's sake, he burned down a house! He killed a God! He killed Dianite of all the Gods! He killed Dianite--his God.

He killed his God...for his friends. He killed his God for Jordan's...

"--You haven't been listening? Have you? You will be released in the morning--I will not prolong this for either of our sakes. Remember this, Thomas--the law will find you--and you will be punished accordingly.” She took a step towards him, her tall figure and broad shoulders casting an imposing shadow. “I cannot force your interests elsewhere, but I can make you fear the law. Rethink your decisions."

Honey had only moved ever so slightly, when Tom cracked. He didn’t get it? Why was no one jumping in to save him? 

Only one tear had made it to the wooden floor before Tom clawed his hands up to his eyes, fingers and palms trying to stop wet from escaping. He had drifted over his exposed mouth with trembling fingers. Tom can barely think of times when he had wished to be normal more than this moment.

And when an awfully wretched sound found it's way from his pounding, shriveled dead heart to his throat and into the empty air Tom pulled at his hair.

"Jordan!" Tom kicked and floundered with as much energy as fear and anger could give. He hadn't wanted to call for that bastard, but he would as a last resort.

He killed his God. For his friends. He betrayed Him. He failed Him. For his friends. 

Tom rambled aimlessly--he shouted aimlessly over Honey’s shoulder--someone had to be out. His friends wouldn’t just leave him to be jailed. They would come and explain it all and Honey would have to release him. He was just the bad guy--he always did this!

"Jordan! Don't let them take me unfairly! You're an Ianitee--they can't--I didn't--Sparkly-asshole, I'm your friend! You owe me! I--You--I'll burn your house down again! Your house and Jerry's tree and SkeleTom and his house. I'll destroy everything! Jordan! I--He's not more important than--"

Tom's voice cracked at the end when he hit the stone bricks. His hip colliding with the ground and his hand scraping against a jagged edge. Honey’s glare fell upon him.

For this? 

“You shouldn’t keep shouting,” Honey said, “you’re giving me a migraine. Everyone’s asleep.” Tom just stared at her. “They’re not coming.”

“They always do--you can’t do shit to me,” Tom yelled hoarsely. 

Tom squeezed his eyes shut, moving his arm to cover his eyes. He clenched his hand into a fist, numbing the pain of his hand as he forced himself with much effort to hold his breath. Something inside of him--maybe it was anger, fear, pain or trapped air or whatever--wanted to explode, to destroy or set ruin and destruction to.

A dangerous inferno was burning inside of him.

Tom flinched as the cell door slammed shut. He scrambled and limped to the bars, hands clutching them just above his head. Honey was walking away, the sharp clicks of her boots echoing through the empty jail. 

She imprisoned him. She did it.

Tom felt his grip slacken, hands trailing down the bars as his shoulders sank.

His friends...they had to be coming for him...someone, at least one…

Tom's brain fried before one thought had made it through. A light in the dark. Tom's savior, how could he have forgotten? He'd get out of here in no time, he was sure of it. Tom's one and only true friend.

"CAPTAIN CAPTAIN!"

The clicks stopped. For a moment, it felt like everything stopped. Like a standstill was found as time froze. Ihatchu knew silence. Pure silence...almost.

Tom's grip tightened again. He held his breath.

A voice drifted from the hall, the smallest trace of amusement and pity bounced off the walls as reality came crashing down like the second floor of a burning house. 

"How could you be so ignorant?"

...

A deep growl burst out of the flames as Tom stood and unsteadily rushed to a dusty chest. Four chests and one drawer later, Tom found what he was looking for.

With a trembling hand he wrapped the injured one and made a makeshift splint, avoiding looking at it as much as he could. This would have to do. Tom wiped away the wet that had trailed down his face.

...

It was in this moment that Tom's lungs decided he didn't get nearly enough air. His knees trembled before giving out and Tom found himself holding the bars like a lifeline. 

Honey's voice cut through his heaves.

"Unfortunately, I've gotten more than a fair share of time to figure out his erratic behavior. Anyone in this town who's dealt with him would tell you not to bother. And any living soul with a working brain wouldn't try. No one's coming. Especially not him."

...

Tom slammed the door behind him as he stepped back into the morning sun. There was a health potion he needed back at the BnB.

He let his feet find his way back, choosing to ignore the cobblestone paths. His legs had stopped shaking but his hand hadn't. He squinted in the sun. Even in its heat there was something cold and empty inside him. Just like a zombie.

Tom didn't spare a glance behind his shoulder as he rushed back on quick feet. And if he noticed the crow following a ways behind he didn't bother to yell at it.

...

Tom spent an agonizingly long night yelling and cursing until he couldn't stand up anymore. For a while he refused to give up. As far as he was told, not a single living soul had heard him. What a horrible idea to think that at least one had...and hadn't bothered to do anything about it but listen.

After a while that feeling of gut wrenching betrayal solidified into a festering anger. 

He spent the rest of his time in the corner, head on his knees and arms around himself. Honey would come for him sometime in the morning. 

And when she did.

...

Tom reached the door of their lodging and leaned heavily against it. He composed himself best he could. Breathing deep and slow.

...

"Thomas?" Honey had prompted. She had at some point changed clothes. She waited for him to look at her. "You'll be free to go in a moment."

"Finally," Tom muttered. His mood darkened as he stewed and he was about to give her hell. If she opened that door he'd come back with a sword and show her the true fury of a Dianitee. "Bitch," he added.

Honey's hand stilled on the lock, the keys dangling from her fingers. She looked at Tom with tepid eyes. A warning. "Would you like to repeat that?"

"Yeah, I would," Tom stood. "What did this accomplish? Locking me in here is going to make me a saint? You think I'm scared. This will be the only time you put me behind bars," Tom rambled, feeling his courage and anger bubbling. He gripped the bars and drew himself up as much as he could. He stared her down, red pupils blazing. 

"Mayhaps, you're right," Honey allotted. Tom grinned and he lifted a hand outside the bars and flipped her off. 

Her hand caught his wrist and she kept him from pulling it back. She hung the keys back at her waist and then, looking at Tom, grabbed his finger. 

"Lady, let go--" Tom started.

She bent it backwards, her eyes on Tom's he looked at her, confused. He looked at the finger. He felt the faint pain, the warning even his undead body had about bending it. He briefly felt his finger grace his wrist, the obliterating pain made his vision go white. 

Not like the sword cuts and violent deaths muted by the respawn but a pain new and fresh, aching and spreading up his arm. He tried to yank his wrist away, but she held tight. Tom was gritting his teeth. He nearly cursed at her, but held his tongue. 

"Do you think you've learned anything?" 

"Bite me," Tom bared his teeth. His menacing teeth were sharp and crooked. She bared hers back and bent his pointer-finger to the point of pain and waited. She watched Tom's snarl turn into a grimace. He tried to yank his arm away. She hadn't budged. Tom shot his other hand through the bars and tried to grab her hand and pull it away.

She drew his hand further from the bars, causing a burning in Tom's shoulder. He couldn't reach his own hand! He gripped the bar instead. 

"Do you think you've learned anything?" She repeated.

"Fuck you," Tom said through gritted teeth. This time the break was felt in his chest. He seized against the bars, clenching his teeth to avoid hollering in pain.

She had grabbed his thumb and this time when she bent it back Tom couldn't take it. The cold grimy bar burned against his hand as he gripped it, his knuckles went white.

"Do you think you've learned anything?"

Tom didn't answer. She bent his thumb further back. Slowly pushing it towards his wrist. She held it again, hearing Tom hiss. "Yes."

She kept pushing. "What did you learn?"

"Not to break the law--let go, let go--" 

She didn't right away. Tom was tearing at the eyes before she let go of his hand, but not his wrist. She watched him slack against the bars, his remaining fingers curling up and his thumb tucking itself inward to avoid the pain. 

"Mayhaps, you've learned. Next time it'll be your wrist." She let go of his wrist and Tom dragged his hand back into the cell, clutching it to his chest. He curled inward on himself, sagging to his knees and Honey opened the cell, her keys jingling.

"Get out of my sight."

...

Tom opened the door to the BnB, wrapping his good hand and arm around himself and locking the door behind him, listening to the sound of a beating heart that should've been his. 

PLOT | ABOUT | CHARACTERS

[discordantplains]

Dear Lord

Tucker was in hell. Not the nether--no that would be preferable over the itching sneezing congestion filled purgatory he’d landed himself in. He hadn’t even been blessed enough to find the meager amount of obsidian necessary to construct a portal there during their supervised mining sessions. There was no escape and he figured he must be really desperate if he was considering the stifling dimension of Dianite’s domain a reprieve.

He sniffled, wiping at his already tender nose, and pressed his face into his pillow. He was the only one currently in the bed and breakfast they were using as a base of operations. Sonja and Waglington had gone out to explore the town, Tom left to do who knows what--probably get in trouble with Captain Captain--and Jordan had already turned hermit and was down in the basement tinkering with a portal to get them home.

The hope Jordan’s portal was bringing happened to be the only thing keeping him from bashing his head open on the nearest hard surface. Though, to be fair, it already felt like his head was being bashed open.

He’d never had allergies this bad, not in the savanna in Mianite or the fields around his home in Ruxomar. Whatever grass grew in this gods-forsaken plane was seriously nasty stuff. Both inside and outside he was suffering, hell even underground was bad. His head pounded and felt full of cotton, his sinuses felt fit to burst, and his eyes were throbbing. He was constantly adjusting his jaw, hoping that his ears would pop and relieve some of the terrible pressure in his skull but he hadn’t been lucky thus far. His mouth didn’t feel much better--his tongue was slightly swollen and his throat felt like it was grating against sandpaper every time he swallowed. 

He had already gotten medication from SkeleTom and it didn’t seem to be doing anything. The alternate swore up and down that it should have done something at least, but Tucker wasn’t seeing a difference. Sleeping didn’t help either. He woke up this morning feeling worse than the previous days and mining had been pretty miserable to begin with. The alternate alternates, who Sonja had dubbed the “Alts Squared”, followed every move they made. Even Tom, who had made threats of going off the grid, hadn’t managed to escape Honey’s watchful gaze. If he didn’t feel so sick Tucker would have been impressed. He’d never been able to control Tom like that.

Speaking of, the grating zombie champion had woken him about thirty minutes ago, jabbering on about spending time with Captain Captain. Not only did he not feel up to spending extended periods of time outside, but he didn’t exactly trust Jordan’s alternate not to go crazy and murder them all. Mianite knows he’d already tried. Or maybe that was his version of playfulness. Honestly, he was worse than the Modesteps and the Ianite pirates put together. 

After only a few moments of lying face down in his pillow the pillowcase was wet with snot from his constantly dribbling nose. He sat back in disgust, sighing frustratedly. He needed out--and he didn’t know if he could wait on Jordan to build his portal.

With an appropriate amount of sniffling and groaning he put on the simple armor he had managed to craft the day prior and stepped outside.

It was midday and the sun beat down on the city in the plains relentlessly. As soon as he took his first congested breath of fresh air he sneezed and regretted leaving the safety of the bed and breakfast. But sitting inside all day was driving him madder than his allergies, especially when everyone else was being productive. He had already wasted yesterday in a drowsy haze of SkeleTom’s defective medication.

He still wasn’t going to hang out with Tom and his evil pirate fixation though. 

The walk from the bed and breakfast to the town square was a short one and Tucker wasted no time gazing at the sights. He was a man on a mission. As he rounded the side of a building and the Mianite temple came into view he quickened his pace, stepping over Captain Captain’s tripwire, and slipped inside.

It was cool and dim in the temple, the only light source being a few long burning candles on the quartz altar at the front. All of the windows were shuttered with heavy wooden blinds, likely to keep the elaborate tapestries hanging from the rafters from fading in the sunlight. They were brilliantly colored, depicting Mianite enacting various forms of justice while golden wheat shone behind him. Tucker wasn’t impressed with the artistry. Compared to the temple in the land of Mianite this was nothing. Honey may seem like the picture perfect Mianite champion but her temple sucked and Tucker took pleasure in besting her on that front. 

He approached the altar and swiped the book laid open on the center of it. All pages prior to the one it was open to had been ripped out. The tears were neat and close to the binding--clearly Honey’s work. There was a dropper behind the altar, shimmering with a godlike enchantment, and Tucker figured that’s where he should drop prayers. It was interesting how similar communication with the gods was here in comparison with his home dimension. He was hoping this god would be a bit more responsive than his own, however. 

He grabbed the quill on the altar as well, noting the beautiful golden feather and plopped down on the front pew preparing to write until the god responded. It’s not like there was anything else to do in this city without getting penalized anyway. Honey had made that very clear.

He started out eloquently, introducing himself, because he had to remember that this wasn’t his Mianite, and explaining the circumstances. He made note to mention that he was the Mianite champion in his own universe and give a flowery overview of his deeds and accomplishments. Tucker figured that the higher this Mianite thought of him the more he would be willing to help him out. He definitely wanted to speed run this experience-- no waiting around on world ending calamities to open up the void. And no waiting for Jordan to figure out what even Deviser Gaines struggled with either. 

He had just gotten to the part where he heroically slayed Dianite to rescue Ianite and save his dimension when the solid oak doors swung open behind him and heavy footfalls approached. He stifled a cough and looked over his shoulder, expecting Sonja.

Honey was marching towards him instead. Immediately Tucker straightened up, trying his best to look the part of a proper champion despite feeling like Tom on a sunny day. Which was to say--bad.

“You’re quite devoted.” She intoned, coming to a stop at the end of his pew.

“Yeah well, I try.” He chuckled awkwardly, before pausing and running a hand through his hair. 

He felt he had made a rocky first impression with Honey courtesy of a few too many snarky remarks. She was also kind of scary and her rapier and armor was well above what he had managed to craft the few days prior. Not to mention he could barely read her. She was perfectly stone faced aside from her ears.

“I’ve been praying so we can get out of your hair. Figured if anyone can get me out of this gods-forsake- erm... if anyone can get us home it’d be Lord Mianite.”

“A shame. I was rather hoping you’d decide to stay.”

Though her words were passive her tone suggested that he strongly reconsider is bid to leave.

“Not a chance.” He laughed, “No offense, this is a nice town and all but I’d rather die than stay here. Actually, scratch that- I probably will die.”

“I won’t let that happen.”

He believed her.

“Look, I’m not trying to be rude here, but nothing short of an ancient prophecy from Mianite himself is going to get me to stay.”

“I take it that’s happened before.”

“Yeah, it was a whole big deal in the last dimension we were in. Don’t think it made much of a difference though, we sort of caused the end of the world on our way out.”

He balked under her observant turned piercing stare.

“Uh, that’s not going to happen here, though.”

“I should hope not. I’ve labored too many years here to have it all destroyed because of some unexpected guests. That being said, you’re still welcomed despite your apparent track record.”

“Gee, thanks.”

He sighed and closed the prayer book, before standing and placing it back on the altar. 

“Speaking of track record,” he began tredeptatiously, “and you’re smart so I’m sure you’ve picked up on this-”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“-that’s not what I- I’m taken. Um, look Tom isn’t exactly the most rule abiding person. He's been pretty good so far, and you've been doing a good job keeping track of him, but he won't stay so placated for long.” Honey’s stern eyes didn’t leave him the whole time he spoke. Tucker ended up choking on his cough in the back of his throat--unwilling to show weakness. 

“Yes, Sonja made that clear during the initial tour, and his conduct during your allotted mining hours affirmed it. You need not remind me, I am keeping an eye on it. We are well versed in dealing with troublemakers.”

“Right,” he muttered, “Captain Captain. I just figured I’d warn you, Mianite champion to Mianite champion and all.”

He placed his hands on his hips in a very self important sort of way but Honey didn’t react beyond blinking. Tucker pressed his lips together in a firm line, never missing how the inhabitants of Ruxomar had thought him hot shit more than now. 

“He doesn’t care if you kill him by the way,” he added, moving swiftly on from that embarrassing floundering, “he’ll just keep popping up like nothing happened, it doesn’t work on him.”

It was strange that that was the statement to wring a reaction out of her. To Tucker it seemed she would have been able to infer something like that, but the tilt of her head and squint of her eyes indicated otherwise. He felt something tighten in his chest. The implications of the source of her confusion were less than ideal.

“What’s that look for.”

She continued to look at him, brows furrowed in confusion and the blatant telegraphing of her emotions made him uncomfortable.

“I don’t follow.” She finally said.

“What part.”

“Is he immortal? A god?” she asked and the bad feeling in Tucker’s chest grew heavier.

“I mean technically yes, he’s Dianite-”

And he didn’t miss the way she flinched, the muscles jumping in her forearms and biceps as she tensed. 

“-but not in this dimension. Okay, I’m about to ask a potentially stupid question, um-- do you guys not come back to life when you die?”

“No.”

Fuck.

“Oh gods- I need to-” and he took a few unsteady steps back to the pew before sinking down into it like all the breath had been driven from his lungs. It felt like it. Or maybe he was about to have a panic attack.

Of course this dimension had no respawn, why would it. There’s apparently a pattern to keep, after all. 

Unwittingly, his mind flashed back to a small dark cave, with holes and crevices in the rock stretching up above him, shrouded in shadow. It felt like the world had dimmed around him, and he could feel the grit of cobblestone and coal under his fingernails. The air tasted stale and dank. He felt claustrophobic. 

He pushed his hands through his hair, gripping tightly and knocking the cap from his head. 

This was just like the island, although he had no intention of dying here. He was going to live and escape. He didn’t want to die again, not like that. Not without being able to come back. 

Honey was taking his mini breakdown rather well, just standing impassively and letting him work it out of his system. Maybe later he would scream into his pillow until he went hoarse, but for now he needed to make sure Sonja’s alt² didn’t think he was too much of a crazy person. 

“I’m fine, that’s fine--normal even, sorry, I said it would be a stupid question.” He paused to breathe, finding it a little hard and not entirely because of his allergies. 

“If you need some time I’ll be on my way.” Honey started, motioning to the doors. And though he realized she probably didn’t get what was happening, he appreciated her discretion.

Tucker sighed and breathed in and out a few more times before sitting up and placing his hat back on his head. Unfortunately, he couldn’t afford to sit down and think about tight cave spaces and hissing monsters that were always just out of his line of sight.

“No, I have more questions.” He wheezed before snapping his fingers, “A priest, do you have a priest? Declan?”

“We do not.”

Right, of course not. That would be too easy. What’s the point of a world where death is permanent if it isn’t inescapable?

He also thought it odd, because even on Trinity Island Declan had a way of reaching them. Tucker just assumed he was a universal constant. Though if anything he learned about Ihatchu so far was to be believed, it was that Captain Captain was a murderous maniac and probably killed him. 

Thinking about that now and knowing that those who died stayed dead set him on edge.

“Tell me about Mianite, how do I get in contact. What’s the fastest way.” 

He might've been losing his cool a bit.

“Writing prayers is the most assured way to-”

She cut herself off mid sentence, Tucker hanging on her words like the end of a rope, holding his breath. 

“Honey-”

“Silence.”

He shut his jaw with a clack, frustrated energy thrumming under his skin. He wasn’t a particularly patient person on most days but right now it felt as though if he didn’t get answers from Mianite himself right this second he would explode. Or scream. Or both. 

Honey was statue still. Her ears were twitching continuously and he could hear her quick inhales in the silence of the temple. He didn’t miss how her hand had drifted to the hilt of her rapier. She seemed to be waiting for something that only she had noticed.

He stilled as well, but couldn’t hear or smell anything out of the ordinary. Before he even had a chance to open his mouth and ask what she was paying attention to she was storming down the aisle and out of the doors at a furious pace.

He followed, scrambling up out of the pew and dashing out after her into the evening air. 

The first thing he noticed was that he had spent much longer inside the temple than he thought, and the second thing was a large column of black smoke rising up into the golden sky a few blocks away.

Honey was already disappearing down a street in that direction. 

Tucker had a bad feeling about this. 

He followed suit, boots pounding against clean cobblestone streets. 

It was clear what had happened before he even rounded the final corner. Tucker could hear the roaring crackle and feel the heat of flames before actually seeing the fire. But as soon as he did it was obvious who had started it.

Standing an unsafe distance from the inferno was Tom, cackling like mad and looking entirely like Dianite incarnate. Reflections of the flames glittered madly in his dark, undead eyes and his suit was smoldering slightly as rogue embers sizzled against the cloth.

It was only then did Tucker realize that the structure currently on fire was an entire fucking house.

“Oh, you fucking idiot.”

Tom spotted Tucker and lifted his hand to wave at the same moment Honey rushed and clotheslined him. She swung wide, her heavy forearm bracer catching him in the throat and sending him flat on his back in a singular movement. Tom’s shriek of surprise was cut short as his back hit the street and the breath was driven from his lungs.

 Honey pinned him with her knee and immediately straightened, scanning the surrounding streets with her hawklike gaze. Tom writhed beneath her, horrid choking sobs adding to the roaring of the flames as he struggled to take in air.

Tucker didn’t quite get what she was looking for until he saw a glint of something metallic and spotted Captain Captain leaning on the railing of a porch across the street. The pirate and lawmaker locked eyes across the way. The Ianite champion grinned before shaking his head and turning to head out of sight.

“You’re not going to go after him?” Tucker asked, nodding to the side alley where Captain Captain had disappeared.

Tom had started squirming more purposefully under Honey’s weight, reaching for a wicked looking dagger that had been knocked free of his belt and was lying a few feet away. She increased pressure on his sternum and he let out an undignified squeak.

“Get off of me, lady!” Tom whined, legs thrashing.

Honey ignored Tom’s protests, turning to Tucker. Her expression was so fearsome he noticeably stiffened, taking half a step back.

“He’ll get what’s his.” She growled. 

Normally, Tucker would've offered his assistance in apprehending him, but recently learning he was a very mortal man had him acting with caution. He didn't want to test his luck when the outcome could very well be a crossbow bolt between the eyes. 

 “And Tom?” He asked above the flurry of foul words the Dianite champion was now spitting at Honey.

“Tom will receive punishment fitting the crime.”

Tucker did a double take, “What? No trial?”

“Have you any doubt of his responsibility for this?”

Tucker looked at the blazing inferno and then back at Tom, still struggling beneath Honey and looking like he would kill if he could.

His answer was an unfortunate, “No…”

With a deft movement, Honey let up the pressure on Tom’s chest and fisted her hand in his hair at the nape of his neck. She yanked hard, twisting his head so his face was pressed harshly into the street. Tom sputtered as his teeth hit cobblestone, lips splitting and staining the ground red. 

He thrashed, kicking with his legs, but Honey held fast and flipped the rest of his body stomach down with a sharp knee to his kidneys. 

“I’m taking him in.” She decided, then inclined her head towards a narrow line of grates bordering the street. “Use the city’s waterline to put out the fire, I won’t have it spreading.”

Tucker hesitated. He couldn’t just let Honey take Tom away, what if she killed him? Rationally, he knew she wouldn’t, that would be absurd but…

“Hey now, shouldn’t I tag along to see how you do things? Not that I don’t trust you but we’re used to a more democratic system when it comes to doling out punishment.”

He inhaled sharply before continuing, “Griefing was against the law in our dimension as well, I’m sure there’s some sort of explanation that would…” Tucker trailed off. Was he really about to say there might be a reason that justified Tom burning a house down? He hoped for the zombie’s sake there was one. What the hell had gotten into him. 

Honey was unmoved by his pleas.

“How many times will you have to defend the actions of your friend, preemptively or in response to his misdeeds, before you take a critical eye to his moral character.”

She had a point. They were making an awful lot of excuses on Tom’s behalf. But the alts² didn’t know Tom. He was an obnoxious Dianitee who liked to play with fire but damn it, he was Tucker’s friend too. 

“I’ve known him long enough to make my judgments.” He retorted. “I’ll put out the fire, just don’t do anything permanent. You aren’t the only Mianite champion around anymore.”

Honey’s dark eyes narrowed, the fire flickering dangerously in the reflection of her pupils.

“Reconsider that statement.” She said coldly, standing and hauling Tom with her.

Tucker stood his ground, likely foolishly. He doubted she’d kill him, that wasn’t exactly just and she seemed to pride herself on that sort of thing, but she was stronger than him, more geared than him, and had very sharp teeth and big muscles. In a one on one he would decidedly lose, but if he backed down here than what sort of a man was he, no less what sort of champion. 

Honey didn’t back down so much as brush him aside. Wrenching Tom’s right arm up and behind his back, still gripping his hair, she shoved him down the street in the direction that Tucker knew was the jail. 

The zombie was cursing loudly, and Tucker caught his wild gaze as he was marched past. 

“Tucker! Dude back me up! No one was living there what’s the big deal!”

“He will be released in the morning.” Honey said as a final goodbye, leaving Tucker to deal with the house fire himself.

Tucker coughed, the acrid taste of smoke hitting the back of his throat. Perfect.

In the end, he did a very half-assed job of putting out the fire. He made sure it wouldn’t spread to any other buildings and then bailed, figuring the structure would be a lost cause anyway. 

There were much more important things to attend to, like making sure everyone else knew there was no respawn. It was then that he realized that Tom had no idea and had burned down a building with the confidence of someone who could never die. 

And Captain Captain had probably egged him on to boot. He was totally trying to get Tom killed!

The sun was well on its way to dipping below the horizon now, and the sky was tinged a dusky purple. Streetlights began to flicker on as Tucker turned and sprinted back towards the bed and breakfast, flames still crackling at his back. The shadows on porches and down alleyways began to seem more sinister as he ran and he had to focus on the rhythm of his feet and breath to keep his brain from conjuring up creeper hissing. Thank Mianite for intuitive city layouts because he was back on the doorstep of their shared living space within a few minutes, if horrendously out of breath. 

As he leant heavily on the doorframe catching his breath, feeling the congestion crackle in his chest alongside the smoke inhalation, a familiar soothing voice piped up behind him. 

“Hey Tucker, there’s like a big fire over there or something. Wonder what that’s all about.”

Tucker whipped around, only looking mildly crazed, to find Waglington staring placidly back at him.

“Get inside, we need to have a meeting.” He ordered hoarsely, pulling open the door and shoving the wizard inside. 

“Ah, is it about the fire?” Waglington asked, not in any hurry at all despite Tucker’s urging.

“No- well yes, that’s part of it.” They entered the bedroom, and Sonja was already present, lounging on her bed and scrawling crossly into a journal.

“Where’s Sparklez.” Tucker badgered.

“Downstairs.” Sonja answered without looking up, and Waglington shuffled over to peer at her notes. 

“What’s got you so peeved.” The wizard inquired, flicking the tips of her ears which were lying flat against her head in displeasure.

She sighed heavily. 

“I’ve been trying to investigate some lights out of town, but Mericho’s dogs won’t let me out.”

“Hmm that is a predicament indeed.” He murmured, and Tucker tuned them out, hurrying down the steps to the basement.

“Jordan!” He barked, startling the Ianite champion into dropping a component he was holding. It broke in half upon hitting the ground and a piece of it skittered somewhere out of sight.

“Oh gods-” He turned around blue eyes blazing angrily, “Tucker!”

“Worry about that later, I have news.” And he grabbed the shorter man by the wrist, tugging him back up into their shared living space. He stumbled crossly after Tucker, fixing his askew sunglasses as he was yanked along.

“Okay, stop.” Jordan grumbled, snatching his hand back from Tucker with a scowl, “what’s this about.”

“We’re missing Tom.” Waglinton observed.

“You smell like smoke.” Sonja commented.

Tucker muffled a cough in his elbow. “I’ll get to that.” He paused to make sure he had their full attention before continuing. Jordan cast a mournful glance down at the cellar and Tucker snapped his fingers to bring his focus back around.

“I was talking to Honey today and to make a long and awkward conversation short,” he inhaled sharply,  “we have no respawn.”

“Well, that sucks.” Jordan said eloquently. 

Sonja frowned, looking back at her notepad. “That makes a lot of sense actually.”

Waglington looked confused.

“What so like, if we die, we die?”

"Yeah, pretty much." Tucker confirmed, "And I have no idea what happens when we do die. Dec isn't here, no idea if the gods will pop up any time soon, so-"

"Wait, no Declan?" Jordan piped up, "I thought he was like- a universal constant."

"Yeah, that's what I thought too, and if I'm honest here I think he straight up died."

“That’s troubling.” Waglington muttered, sitting down on his bed.

“Right. So we should all just keep our heads down, no dangerous shit.” He crossed his arms. “Speaking of-- Tom decided to burn down a house tonight and got himself caught by Honey.”

Waglington laughed, Jordan sighed heavily, and Sonja put her head in her hands. 

“She wouldn’t kill him, right?” Jordan worried.

Tucker shrugged, “She said she’d release him in the morning so that implies not.”

That seemed to be enough for Jordan, who tentatively stretched with a yawn, spine audibly popping.

“Alright, well, I guess that’s fine…”

Sonja’s face wrinkled, “Not really. I can easily picture him pissing her off even more.”

Tucker huffed. “Not much we can do about it, trust me, I tried.”

In truth, he probably could have tried harder, but no one else was there and therefore couldn’t challenge him on it. 

Tom would be fine.

"Look just-" he sighed, taking a shaky step backwards until the backs of his knees hit his bedside, and he sunk into the mattress with a quiet huff.

"-we had instructions on Trinity Island. Beat all the bosses and be the last one standing. But here we don't have a guaranteed revival, even if one of us makes it out. We can't just fuck around like on Ruxomar."

Waglington looked the most troubled of all, and Tucker was reminded that the wizard had never gone without respawn before. Tucker could practically see the gears turning in his head as he likely parsed out the quickest way to become invincible via local magic.

"Well, this place doesn't seem so bad." Jordan pitched in, "All I have to do is finish the portal and it'll be okay."

Tucker didn't miss the way Jordan had clipped his sentences, his tone rife with his trademark subtle passive aggression. He winced, recalling the intricate looking portal component Jordan had dropped.

The Ianite champion didn't spare him another glance, slipping back downstairs.

Tucker was busy feeling sorry for himself. 

Sonja shot him a sympathetic look from where she was curled up against her headboard. 

"What a world, huh?”

He frowned, sniffling as his allergies tickled the back of his nose again.

"It's a crap one, that's what it is."

...

Tucker woke in the morning to the sound of a door slamming open. He jerked awake, not that he had been in that deep of a sleep to begin with, to see Tom’s ugly mug stomping through the bedroom towards the stairs to the basement. He would’ve gotten up to stop him--Tom needed to learn about their mortality like yesterday-- but as soon as he sat up he felt the phlegm in his lungs and hacked and coughed to regain his breath.

The mucus he spit out was thick and disgustingly yellow. His mouth tasted like smoke.

By the time he had pulled enough air into his lungs and recovered, Tom was already in the basement and Tucker could hear the indistinct rumble of Jordan’s voice.

Tucker swiped an unused notebook from Sonja’s bed and began his prayers to Mianite anew, keeping an eye on the cellar stairs for Tom’s return. He’d go down himself but he had a feeling if Jordan broke another portal component because of him he’d probably get a lot more than passive aggressive.

It wasn’t long before he could hear Tom’s voice rising in volume from the basement anyway. Jordan marched up the stairs soon after, Tom hot on his heels, gesticulating wildly.

“You admit to wanting me to suffer!”

Jordan ignored him and nodded at Tucker before exiting the bed and breakfast. It looked like Tom was fixing to go after him and so Tucker stood, taking a step forward to grab the zombie’s shoulder and prevent him from pursuing the Ianite champion. 

Tom attempted to shrug out of his grip, hurling one last sentence at Jordan’s back.

“SkeleTom’s a limp dicked pushover, when you get bored of being his bitch let me know!”

“Tom, quit it.” Tucker grumbled, pulling him back from the doorway.

The zombie rounded on him and Tucker noticed he was cradling an injured hand to his chest.

“You can’t seriously be chill with this, can’t you see Sparklez is traitoring us?”

“Look man, I don’t give a shit about SkeleTom, but what I do care about is the fact that we have no respawn and you’re acting like a maniac.” 

Tom paused, looking confused. Tucker could see the gears turning in his head before his eyes sparked with understanding.

“No shit?”

“Yeah man, so I’m pretty sure Captain Captain was trying to get you killed.”

Tucker waited with a patience he reserved just for Tom and saw the zombie still and go silent. His eyes unfocused and the red light in them dimmed slightly.  He absently flexed his broken hand tentatively and looked at the ground, then Tucker. "That can't be it," he said more in a pleading tone to himself than Tucker. 

Tucker held to that patience like a man drowning in the sea clutching driftwood as he was carried into a torturous storm. "Tom, I'm serious. Go help Wag or Sonja--lay off on the pranking and shit until we're home."

"No!" Tom immediately defended. He crossed his arms. "I'll just be more careful. That was just a slip-up. If Captain MoreFun meant to kill me he would have." The zombie sighed and deflated, looking at the door Jordan had long left.  "I just…"

"Yeah, Tom?" Tucker asked gently. If his allergy drained brain was interpreting things correctly, Tom was upset.

"We don't hang out," Tom said to Tucker, eyes still dim. "First you got busy in Ruxomar, then Jordan found everything to do but hang out and Wag always is off building. I just want someone I can go do pranks with--someone who finally won't get bored of me." 

It hurt. Tucker had got consumed with Blood Magic and Mianite knows what tech Jordan had been doing. "Tom, we're your friends. I'd hug you but I'm starting to feel like vomiting."

Tom wrinkled his nose and then shook his head quickly. He looked at Tucker and genuinely smiled, but let it drop. "What am I saying? That's just the healing potion talking." Tucker sighed as Tom spun on his heels to the door, giving him a middle finger. "Fuck you, I can do whatever; you're all losers and Captain Fun is a lot more entertaining." 

Tucker let him go, he had a list of things to accomplish and at the end of the day it was clear that not even Honey Badger could reign Tom in.

| ABOUT | CHARACTERS | PLOT |

[discordantplains]

The Records

The first thing on Sonja’s mind when she woke up that morning was whether or not she should put Tucker out of his misery. The second was that she felt bad for her boyfriend. His sniffling and sad, wretched coughs had made finding sleep difficult, but she could only imagine how bad it must have been for him. That didn’t stop her from wishing for some peace and quiet.

When she ended up walking the streets of Ihatchu later, she found herself wishing the opposite. It was dead silent. The sort of silent that made her feel guilty about the sound of her own footsteps for disrupting it. She almost feared getting in trouble for just walking around, expecting Honey to pop up around a corner and drag her away for disrupting the peace. 

To be fair, Honey wasn’t that extreme. After all, they had finished their three days of supervised mining without incident, but she was still really intimidating. Sonja wanted to stay in her good graces. If not for her own sake than for the sake of Tom, who would likely get in trouble and need someone to bail him out. 

But that wasn’t news. Neither was the reason for all this deafening quiet. There was absolutely no one in town. She had noticed that on their initial tour around, and the alternate alternates had mentioned it themselves, but it only stuck out now without her friends clamoring around her. With how big the town was, and all the houses scattered about, there surely had to have been other people who lived here, at some point. 

Where had they gone?

The more she thought about it the more the question tugged at her mind. It wasn’t suspicious by any means, after all what SkeleTom and Mericho mentioned during the day of their tour made sense. But she couldn’t help but feel like there was some sort of twist, like on Ruxomar. If there was a reason that people had left the city there had to be a reason they shouldn’t be here, beyond wanting to be in their own dimension. It seemed safe right now, at least, with Honey and the others.

But still. The people. She should look into why they were gone. As far as she could tell, most of the houses had been empty for a while. Of course, that was only what should could guess from peeking through windows from the street. Not the most reliable method of getting information. Her best bet would be to find a library or see about poking around town records.

If she could remember the tour well enough she should be able to navigate to the library fairly easily.  It was located near the Town Hall, which was right in the town’s center. Or was it in the Town Hall? As long as she found herself in the right area it’d be fine.

It wasn’t long before the sparkling waters of the City Fountain towered before her. The Town Square was by far the most elaborate and extravagant part of the city. However, the Mianite Temple was the least inspiring of the buildings there, though it seemed to be the oldest. Rather, the Town Hall was the most detailed and carefully crafted, with defined pillars that rose at least two stories high and golden accents that curled along edges.

Her eyes roamed over the nearby buildings and down the other streets. None of the buildings jumped out or looked like a library sort. Not that she was expecting large signs pointing to the library saying “Get your free information here! Everything you need to know and more!”, but she was certainly hoping that it was at least be easy to distinguish from the other buildings.

Sonja made her way into the Town Hall. There had to be some sort of information desk in there, at least. 

The foyer featured a two story ceiling that allowed for the upper walls to be lined with windows that let in natural light during the day. Right before the front doors was a long deep blue carpet that led to the front desk. The desk held the allusion of having been used recently; there was a neat stack of papers off to one side in front of a sign in clipboard and a basic computer, as well as a cup of pens and a vase with pale yellow flowers that looked freshly cut.

But if when one looked further a fine layer of dust could be seen settled over everything. Someone had to be cleaning up the area every so often, Sonja surmised, for it to look more put together than the rest of the deserted town. Sonja rounded the side of the desk after giving a quick look around the area.

No one was here.

She carefully flipped through the papers on the desk. Most of them were citizen complaints, a few were asking about changing the stricter rules of Ihatchu, and there was one that was a formal request to be allowed to sell food in the town and be able to compete against Mericho’s market. None of them had any feedback, but they all were dated. If she could figure out what today was, maybe she could start onto how long the city had been empty.

She turned her attention to the computer. A shake of the mouse resulted in nothing. Sonja checked the actual computer for a power button and turned it on. The monitor stayed blank. She rolled her eyes and turned the monitor on as well and quietly sank into the computer chair.

The loading screen processed for a moment. It displayed a waving, random company name and a spinning circle as she tapped her fingers on the desk. 

She wasn’t used to waiting so long for a computer to load. The computers in Ruxomar had clearly been far more advanced. As she looked at the setup, she could see many wires connecting to the bottom of the chunky, box like computer. It looked and felt old. Except, the Town Hall would be the one place you’d want all your tech to be new, right? So this had to have been the latest upgrade.

The actual computer was bigger than her torso.

Yikes.

At least the computer and the monitor weren’t shoved into the same device.

It booted up to a login screen with a friendly series of beeps that made her cringe. The sound felt too loud for the oppressing silence of the room. She took a quick look around again, making sure that no one was coming over to check out the noise. It would be a little embarrassing to be caught rummaging through official town paperwork. Her ears stayed perked up, but she returned her attention to the screen.

As unfortunate as it was to be password locked, it would make sense for the Town Hall computers to be login protected. Sonja shuffled through the drawers hoping that someone wrote down some form of login.

The first drawer had nothing but blank forms and sticky notes. The second had pens, paper clips, and batteries. The next was filled with a space to file away papers, folders shoved inside to the point of barely being able to fit. The last was empty beyond a ring of keys.

Should she take the keys? Obviously they would get her somewhere she wasn’t meant to be. And she didn’t want to get on Honey’s bad side when she’d shown them nothing but hospitality after they dropped by out of the blue. Besides that, weren’t town records normally public access?

Sonja left the keys, reluctantly.

Closing the drawer, she turned back to the drawer full of files. She tabbed through each one, checking the labels for something helpful. ‘Addressed to the Mayor’ -who was the mayor?- ‘Addressed to the Champion of Mianite’, ‘Addressed to the Champion of Ianite’ -this one was falling apart under the amount of papers shoved inside, which Captain Captain likely never looked at- ‘Addressed to the Champion of Dianite’, ‘Pertaining to Rules’, etc. The tabs were mostly boring and unsurprising. It wasn’t until she got to ‘Office Needs’ that she looked into a folder. 

The folder contained mostly lists of supplies they needed shipped in, along with forms to order more, and some notes between offices. She was about to move on when a sticky note barely peeking out from the back slipped forward a little. On it, she could read ‘pas-’ that had to lead to a longer word. She pulled it out.

Bingo.

Neatly written out was a username and password that presumably would let her into the computer. Typing in the information proved her right. A rush of energy ran through her. She was getting somewhere.

Except she couldn’t get into anything else. ‘Staff Database’ was login blocked, ‘Record Retrieval’ was login locked, even ‘Building Layout’ was login locked! Sonja pinched the bridge of her nose. She was getting sick of passwords and usernames.

She rolled her head. Her eyes trailed over the desk again. They settled on the papers. Or rather, the dates on them. She checked the date on the computer. Twice. Then she checked to make sure the computer was connected to the internet and had updated the date recently.

The paperwork was from three months ago at the most recent.

Three whole months. Did that mean that no one but the alts lived here in that time? No. But was it weird that no one had any paperwork pass through the town hall? Absolutely.

Her tail flicked back and forth for a moment.

It was time to dig deeper.

She powered off the computer- and the monitor- and placed the sticky note back in its folder before shutting all the drawers. It was probably better to keep everything how she found it. She didn’t want to get yelled at for making a mess.

Sonja took a glance outside. The sun was high in the sky. The computer had said that it was about noon. She had time.

She turned the chair back towards the desk as she got up. The carpet ended after the desk, leading to polished hardwood that had a simple pattern running along it. Right after the front desk was a split set of stairs that led up, each with a hallway that went underneath them. There were signs before the stairs that read ‘Staff only’. The hallway underneath had signs that read ‘Offices and Meeting Rooms’. 

She went upstairs.

None of the rooms seemed useful- the ones that did were locked.

Sonja checked the ground floor.

Besides the mayor’s office and some public relations rooms -which were, of course, locked- there wasn’t much useful there either. Lovely.

At the end of the hall was a set of stairs leading down. She peered around the corner to try and see where they lead. Most places put their valuables in the basement, right? Maybe the records room was down there.

Her footsteps echoed painfully in the small space, but the staircase was blessedly short. When she finally made her way to the next floor, her heart surged. Nearly immediately to her left was the very room she had been searching for. Even better, she found the door inside was unlocked!

She made her way inside, but stopped short. Where the rest of the empty building had been mostly undisturbed and nearly immaculate, the inside here was messy and looked more lived in.

Someone had been here recently.

Footsteps sounded from the stairs. Sonja backed out of the room, carefully shutting the door behind her. She didn’t want it to look like she was snooping through someone’s research. 

Her head turned towards the stairs just as the person moved into her sight.

Honey.

The stoic woman raised her chin and narrowed her eyes, but her ears perked in a way that betrayed her stern look. She was startled to see Sonja here. Sonja tried her best to look relaxed and keep her body posture casual.

“You shouldn’t be down here.” Honey stepped closer to her, eyes looking between the room Sonja had only just vacated and back to her.

With a sheepish expression, Sonja did her best to cover for herself. “Sorry,” she brought a hand up to rub the back of her neck. “I really should have asked before coming down here. I was looking for the library so that I could study up on the town’s history and figured the Town Hall might be an ok place to look. I couldn’t find the library.”

Honey relaxed ever so slightly. “Ah. I can escort you to the library, if you wish. This area of the Town Hall is off limits to citizens.” She curtly explained.

Sonja perked up at that. “Oh, that’d be great! I didn’t mean to wander into a place I’m not allowed, I just figured that there might be a library down here? That sounds kinda silly now that I say it out loud, but generally town information would be kept in the Town Hall, right?”

Honey nodded. “Generally, yes. You’re more likely to find town records, which is-”

“Off limits to citizens?” Sonja finished for her. The corner of Honey’s mouth quirked upwards. She nodded.

“In any case,” Honey started again. “If you follow me, I’ll show you to the library. Was there anything specific in mind that you were looking for? You mentioned the town’s history, but what about the history are you interested in?”

The two briskly made their way back up the steps.

“I’m mostly interested in why it was founded, and how long it's been around. Did it start as a small village that grew, or was it planned to be this large?” Sonja queried, sending a glance towards the front desk to see if it had been disturbed by Honey. Everything was as she left it. Good. “The streets and blocks definitely seem planned. It’s all very meticulous.”

“You are correct in that assumption. This city was made for the gods. Or, rather, the champions of the gods were given the task of building the city. It was meant to be a show of peace between them.” Honey held the front doors open for Sonja, closing them tight as they passed through.

“Meant to be?” Sonja inclined her head to look back at Honey.

“It still is. The gods have been at peace for some time now.” Honey left no room for argument in that statement.

Sonja hummed. That crossed out the gods as a reason for the town’s residents leaving.

“That’s good to hear,” Sonja flexed her fingers. “In my universe, the gods were seldom at ease with each other. Well, there were times of ‘peace’,” she pulled her fingers up to make air quotes around ‘peace’, “but never any real sort of peace. Mostly just that tense, calm before the storm type of thing.” Until Dianite died. But she wasn’t about to start on that story with Honey. She didn’t want to distract her from the little bit of information she was giving her.

Honey spared her a glance. “A shame. You’ll be able to enjoy the peace while you’re here, at least. I’ve made it my personal objective to make sure no one steps out of line.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” Sonja gave her a kind smile. “You seem to be doing a fantastic job. Other than Captain Captain getting a little forward, I feel like anyone would feel plenty safe here.”

A dark look passed over Honey’s face for a brief moment. “If Captain Captain ever causes you trouble, let me know. I’ll have another talk with him.” Her face smoothed back out into her typical stoic, but also sort of stern, expression. “We want you all feel that you are welcome to stay as long as you like.”

“We appreciate that. I doubt we’ll stay too long, though. We’re all itching  to get home.” Sonja thought back to the day before, when Honey stayed back to talk to Captain Captain. Again, she pondered the stress of keeping him in line.

Honey shifted the conversation to talk her through getting to the library while they made their way towards it. When they got close, she pointed it out. It was very unassuming and humble. The building itself was fairly plain and only two stories high. Though the front featured a few pillars and big, clear windows that showed numerous bookshelves, it was easy to mistake it for any other building.

“Here you are. Let me know if you need anything else.” Honey cast a look in her direction, eyes narrowed. “And don’t go places you don’t belong. Ask me if you are unsure. Good day, Sonja.”

With that, Honey turned around and headed back towards the Town Hall. Her words left Sonja a bit unsettled. The last bit had sounded a little more threatening than she felt was warranted. But maybe Honey had to be that harsh to get certain people to fall in line.

She trusted that Honey was just doing her best to keep them safe.

~~~

Sonja researched late into the day. The first few hours weren’t all that useful. To start, she wasn’t quite sure what she was looking for. Surprisingly, the ‘History’ section was rather small. Most of what she found wanted to talk about the world as a whole, rather than the town. She had parsed through a number of books that talked about great events of gods and their respective civilizations, and wars and battles, and even milestones in advancement of technology and such. The most recent ‘technological revolution’ was the simplification of making computers, which greatly assisted in further research of making computing easier and cheaper. It ended with a picture of nearly the exact model of computer she’d seen in the Town Hall.

This was a far cry from what she was looking for.

She found more luck, amusingly, in the ‘Divinity and Gods’ section. This particular section took up nearly half of the bottom floor. That should have made sense, in hindsight. Honey had told her that the city was made for the gods, or something like that. It probably would have been better to start here in the first place.

Most of what Honey said held true: The city was made in the gods’ interest and glory, but not all the champions were told to make it. In fact, Captain Captain did rather little in helping ‘build’ it, so much as he just showed up one day because Ianite told him to. According to the first book she found- which had only taken breaks from talking about how great and glorious Mianite was, and how his good grace and humble justice was the shining light of the realm to talk about Ihatchu ‘a city that reflected his most glorious self’- most of the work was lead by Honey. Of course, that was the most biased book she’d ever read.

And she’d read some of Dec’s books on the gods.

When she cross researched, she found that the city was founded more on an agreement between various higher up followers of the gods and, surprise surprise, wizards. Pretty typical. What she found out as more interesting was that the town was founded roughly 10 years ago.

That was longer than she had been found herself in the land of Mianite.

The history of the town that she could scope out was mostly uneventful. Strange. Most of the books didn’t report much in the last two years, and those that did hadn’t really gone into the sudden drop in citizens.

To say that she was frustrated was an understatement.

Sonja was ready to give it a rest for the day when she noticed a piece of paper sticking out from one of the books she had pulled. There was a pile of books she hadn’t gotten into yet, mostly because she was trying to compile some sort of notes on the history of Ihatchu. It was time consuming.

She pulled the book out from the stack and flipped to the page the paper was stuck in. The chapter she found herself in was on some basic stuff about Ihatchu she’d already read about. The paper, however, was not related to the chapter. It read, ‘What is happening to everyone?’.

That was unsettling.

Did something happen? Sonja tapped her fingers on the book cover. How recent was the note? What was it referring to? Had people been going crazy? Had they been dying? The note only raised more questions.

She carefully folded the note and put it in her pocket. A glance outside told her the sun was going down soon. It would be best to give it a rest for today.

Sonja took what books she had finished going through to a book return cart- though she doubted anyone would come around to put them away any time soon- and made sure the books she wanted to read later were neatly stacked on the table she had claimed.

When she got back to the bed and breakfast she took the time to go over her notes. Ihatchu was made for the gods. It had been a big draw for people of all faiths, and was at one point a very populated- and popular- town. During the ten years it's been founded, it has seen only peace between the gods.

And, at some point, something happened to the people.

Not the most useful information, but better than not knowing anything. Maybe she could check for newspapers or journals to see if there were any local coverage of strange things. That could give her a better lead.

For now, she ought to get some sleep.

~~~

The sound of Tucker dying greeted her long before the sunrise did. Beautiful. She stayed in bed for a moment, lamenting on her lost sleep. Honestly, it would be so easy to go over to Tucker’s bed and put a pillow over his face and-- She sighed. Murder was not the answer.

Sonja pressed her pillow over her head. What were the chances she could get at least another hour of sleep? 

A hacking cough from Tucker told her there was a very small chance.

She begrudgingly got dressed. Jordan’s bed was empty. Still. A quick peek downstairs showed him slouched over his work. Of course.

Sonja made her way outside, giving a nod to Wag who had started to wake up. He blinked sleepily at her.

The walk to the library was as quiet as ever. Empty town, empty streets, empty houses. The question echoed in her head: Where did they go? She really hoped that there was something in the library to point her in the right direction.

As she passed a smaller street, stretching her arms far above her head, getting a satisfying few pops from her spine, light caught her eye. It was outside the town. The lights she had seen on her first day. They sparked her curiosity. 

Maybe she would check them out later.

For now, she was off to the library.

When she got there she set off to find a section of old newspapers or journals. Which was harder than she thought. Unsurprisingly, there was a bigger focus on actual books than newspapers. It was annoying, but she persisted.

She went through the ‘Restoration’ section- which was mostly old or ancient books- the ‘Documents’ section, and the ‘Other’ section. Not a single newspaper or journal. Not a single one! And there wasn’t a section for either of those.

Her luck finally paid off when she found a room in the back called ‘Periodicals and Associated Clippings’. Inside she found what she assumed to be all of the libraries storage of newspapers, journals, and some other graphic material.

Score.

Sonja set to work sorting through all of the papers. Most relayed typical news- the weather, general town information, more significant weddings, any recent crimes- but a few caught her eye.

They had increasingly larger sections on families leaving town and people dying. Not that people were getting murdered once a week, but over the course of months the rate climbed. There was no linkage to who was committing the murders- though there was a particular Captain that she could guess played a role in the event- but it definitely seemed like something that would drive people away.

It lined up with what the alts squared had told them, after all.

Was that the reason? A slow increase in murder? Surely with Honey and other Mianitees around, that shouldn’t have been such a big issue?

She thought back to the note. It was unhelpfully vague, but maybe that’s what made it interesting. Surely if Captain Captain- and Ianite- was the only reason for everyone leaving then it wouldn't have been that vague at all. 

Maybe she was just used to Ruxomar, and how there was always something more going on than it seemed. 

Her thoughts were broken off when she stumbled upon a very familiar name in an article. ‘Local engineer missing after strange accident in his home just outside of town.’ The engineer? None other than the man who got them out of Ruxomar: Deviser Gaines.

The lights outside the city came into mind. Was that his house? Better yet, was he here? It was way too coincidental for them to end up in Deviser Gaines’ dimension after going through a portal he made for him to not end up here.

That, or it was some extreme form of irony on both their parts.

Nevertheless, it was worth it to go check out that house, now that she had seemingly reached a dead end. That wasn’t to say that there was necessarily anything more to it but Deviser Gaines might have more information for her. His ‘disappearance’ had happened in the thick of people leaving.

It gave her a break from sitting around all day, at the very least. Her stomach growled as she stood up. Maybe it would be good to stop by the bed and breakfast for some food, too.

The sun was about halfway to the horizon when she stepped outside. A gentle breeze was making its way between the buildings. For all the eeriness of Ihatchu being empty, it was such a beautiful town. Truly fit for the gods.

Things had to have been bad for all those people to leave.

But that didn’t mean things were bad now. The people here were more than kind- other than Captain Captain, but even he wasn’t that big of a nuisance. The open plains made her miss her home, though. All of the space reminded her of the budding civilization of Mianite, and how it felt like the whole world was at your fingertips. It would be a relief to be away from established cities after all the trouble in Ruxomar.

When she got back to the bed and breakfast she went downstairs to check their chests for food- and to check on Jordan. He was busy getting everything set up for their portal home and barely spared her a glance and a welcoming smile before returning to his work. A bag of cookies sat next to him.

“I hope you’ve been eating something other than cookies all day, Mr. Sparklez,” Sonja teased him, lightly nudging him in the side with her foot. “Wouldn’t want you to go on a sugar rush and crash in the middle of your work.”

Jordan glanced at the cookies. “I mostly forgot they were there.” He raised his eyes to her. “Though I have been snacking on them a little here and there.” He pushed his arms out in front of him in a stretch. “How have you been?”

Sonja shrugged, shuffling through her chest. “Oh ya know. Busy, yet not. I’ve been looking into the town history and stuff. Trying to figure out why there’s no one here but our alternates.”

Jordan’s head jerked towards her. “There isn’t?” He pondered that for a moment. “I guess I remember SkeleTom mentioning it.”

She gave him a fond eye roll. “You’ve been cooped up down here a while.” She pulled a few pieces of hard bread and a couple pieces of meat. Typical plain jane style of food, and not much of it. They’d have to find something more to eat pretty soon. 

“Did you want any of these?” Sonja turned her head to see Jordan gesturing at the bag of cookies by his side. “SkeleTom dropped them off earlier. There’s more here than I think I’ll eat.”

Taking a considering look at the cookies, then to her own food, and back again, she nodded. “It’d be nice to have something a little more edible in my palette. Did you want any of this?” She waved the food in her hands around.

Jordan’s nose wrinkled. “No thanks. I think I have some in my chest anyway. That is, if Tom didn’t steal it.” He rolled his eyes.

She sent him a smirk. “Ah, the ways a zombie shows you he cares.” Sonja laughed as he groaned. “I’m going to check out something I saw outside town. You’re welcome to come with me, if you fancy a little stretch o’ th’ legs.”

Jordan snorted at her eyebrow wiggle. “No thanks. If I’m feeling a little fresh air later, though, I’ll let you know.”

“Alright then,” Sonja carefully stole a couple cookies from him. “I’ll be off then.”

~~~

It was close to dusk by the time she got out to the edge of town. The sun was just starting its decent, washing the tips of the prairie grasses a lovely shade of gold.

Her first obstacle was the fence. Strangely enough, there was only one working exit/entrance to Ihatchu, and that was the one they had stumbled upon. All the others, for one reason or another, were ‘closed’. Weird.

She walked around the inside of it a bit just to double check. But when she went to go out past Mericho’s farm, his dogs followed her. It was unsettling. Though they stayed along the edge of the farm, it was clear they were watching her. She even put in the effort to put space between her and the farm, trying to show them she wasn’t going to do anything to their land.

They still followed her.

Maybe it was the fox in her telling her that having dogs- hunting dogs no less- keep track of her every move sending off alarm bells. Except, the human part was equally as unnerved.

So she chose to climb the fence.

While the fence wasn’t all that high- it only came up to her shoulders- she had a feeling she wasn’t supposed to climb over it.

Oh well.

Sonja had made it halfway over when the sound of paw steps grabbed her attention. She swiveled around. One of Mericho’s dogs stood just a few feet away, ears upright and angled in her direction. When she moved to get all the way over the fence, it let out a low growl. 

She pulled her foot back. The growling stopped. She put it down again. It growled louder and took a step forward. Sonja slowly descended the fence to stand on the opposite side of the dog. With a sniff, it stood down, watching her.

Fine then, she’d just go find a different fence to climb.

Sonja made her way through the streets, pondering how far she would have to go to escape their sight. Near the north gate, one of Mericho’s dogs stopped her again. On the exact opposite side of the farm. Alright, maybe he had followed her around.

She went back to where she first tried to get out, weaving her way through the city to try to confuse them if they were looking for. When she got back to it, not only was the dog there again, another one had joined.

Drat.

Instead, she weaved through the city again, ducking down smaller roads, getting a little lost, finding the town square, and making her way over to the opposite side of where she’d seen the lights.

What did she find? One of Mericho’s. Stupid. Dogs.

“Screw it,” Sonja mumbled to herself. She was going to get on the other side of the fence.

Her foot had only just touched the ground when the dog lunged at her, teeth bared. In a quick movement, she threw herself back towards the town, narrowly avoiding a bite to her ankle.

Okay. Fine. She’d just have to come up with a better plan.

Stupid, smug looking dog.

| ABOUT | CHARACTERS | PLOT |

[whompwhompminecraft]

Honey Badger isn’t the sentimental type. There are no mementos of past victories lining her shelves, and no souvenirs from travels or exploits she embarked on before her call to Ihatchu. Her greatest accomplishment stands proudly in the middle of the plains, the city itself, and it would be rather redundant to commemorate it in any way in her home. Her house is sparsely decorated, and at passing glance there’s nothing to distinguish it from any of the abandoned abodes around town.The interior is as stark and pristine as the city streets. It says a lot about her consistency as a person. 

Though she has made one exception, it’s existence alone more telling than the woman herself or any of her other belongings. On top of her fireplace mantle, beside a few worn architectural books and some drooping candles, sits a single picture. 

It’s a photograph, depicting a much younger version of Honey, with Lord Mianite himself standing proudly behind her. His large hand rests on her shoulder as she poses enthusiastically, a genuine sharp toothed grin splitting her features. A much simpler and less developed Ihatchu can be seen in the background, and anyone who had brushed up on their history of the town would be able to tell that it’s the oldest street, the first one. 

She had been the only person in Ihatchu at the time, aside from the champion of Dianite, before the city even had its name. He was presumably the one who had taken the photo, and was the only person in the entire dimension who had ever seen Honey Badger so carefree. 

Well, aside from Mianite himself, assumedly. 

Once people began settling in the area, a year after her initial arrival, Honey threw herself into her duties. She closed herself off for the sake of professionalism, not that there was anyone she was close to in the first place. 

Aside from Lord Mianite, apparently.

SkeleTom asked her about the photo once during an early morning meeting over coffee and fresh muffins. He was justifiably curious over her cheerful depiction, especially considering the other figure in the picture was Mianite. Despite being a member of her inner circle, the image threw him for a loop. Even he hadn’t seen her smile like that, not really.

She explained curtly, as she did with all things. 

“I’ve known Lord Mianite since I was eight years of age,” she explained after a long sip of coffee, “He raised me as a candidate for championship, as well as a daughter.”

SkeleTom’s mismatched eyes widened, “You’re a demigod?” 

“We have no blood relation,” she clarified, “My parents were high ranking members of his military, when they passed he saw potential in me and took me in.”

“How sweet!”

“It was practical.”

The baker exhaled fondly, he had grown to expect such responses from her by now.

“Ihatchu was my first official assignment as champion, we had the photograph taken as the last bricks were laid on Foundry street. It was the first concrete milestone of the city, and we felt it prudent to capture the historic moment.”

SkeleTom smiled warmly, propping his chin up on his hands.

“I don’t know, seems a little more tender than just a run of the mill historic photograph. Like a family photo. It’s cute.”

Honey chose not to respond, electing instead to take another long drink from her mug. SkeleTom smiled knowingly. She couldn’t keep up the straight laced lawman facade when he’d seen such a touching photo. Needless to say, she didn’t invite others into her home on a regular basis.

“I have work to do, Tomothy, as do you.” She finally said, upon finishing her coffee and standing from the table. “You’d best be getting started.”

He chuckled goodnaturedly, leaving the uneaten muffins as a gift before stretching and taking his leave.

“Don’t worry Honey,” he teased, “Your secret is safe with me.”

“My relation to Lord Mianite is well documented.”

“Aw, you know what I mean, that you think of him as your dear papá.” He enunciated the last word playfully, pushing his luck with how tolerant she was being. 

She remained tight lipped and so he sauntered out the door. The photograph’s existence on her mantle, lovingly cleared of dust and prominently placed, was evidence enough, even if Honey herself denied it.

[discordantplains]

SkeleTom: “I just made cookies tho”

((Automatically suspicious because he’s an alternate of Tom--ouch))

[discordantplains]

Tiem Reester had been in Ihatchu for a whole forty eight hours now. The “alternates squared”, as Sonja had dubbed them, were more than accommodating--despite the short leash they were kept on.

Captain Captain steered relatively clear--likely at Honey’s instruction--but Honey and SkeleTom stuck to their sides, helping them acclimate with careful vigilance. Mericho too, during the few hours he pulled himself away from the farms. They answered every question, even Tom’s crasser ones or Wag and Jordan’s hyper specific queries about magic and technology.

Though as the sun set on their second full day in the tranquil city there was still one question that no one had asked.

“How do you pronounce this?” Waglington asked, pointing to a sign hanging in the town square. “Eye-haah-choo?” he attempted, likening the “I” sound to the first syllable in “Mianite”.

“Ee-hat-chu.” Honey answered promptly as SkeleTom answered simultaneously with a dissenting opinion.

“Ee-hah-chu!”

Honey gave him an incredulous look and he shrugged shamelessly.

“Mericho would agree with me.”

She shifted her weight, displeased, “Mericho agrees with everything you say.”

He smiled cheekily, pursing his lips. “That’s because we’re best fwiends.”

She exhaled heavily turning back to Waglington and the others, adjusting the rapier on her hip.

“It’s ee-hat-chu.” She insisted with no room for argument.

A throaty laugh sounded above them and everyone’s heads snapped to the rooftops where Captain Captain sprawled leisurely on the clay tiles, crossbow between his legs. Tom perked up and Jordan shuffled discreetly behind Tucker, out of the pirate’s line of sight.

“Has he been following us the whole time?” He asked meekly, and SkeleTom shrugged again, looking back up at the deranged Ianite champion with an amused smile.

“What’cha laughing at, Capt?”

“It’s Captain Captain,” he growled, “I hate you.”

“Love you too, buddy!”

“Captain Captain. ‘An that’s not what I meant ye bilge rat-” he smiled and it was the closest to genuine glee anyone had seen him display thus far, “It’s pronounced I-hate-you.”

SkeleTom muttered, “I don’t think that’s right,” as Honey sighed again. His opinion on the pronunciation of the town name was clearly not new information.

“Uh, so what is it though.” Wag asked again, his question still not having been answered.

“You heard the man,” Tom crowed, “It’s I-hate-you.”

Honey fixed him with a glare but he wasn’t looking her way, instead he flashed a wink to Captain Captain who groaned and took his leave, nimbly sliding down the other side of the roof and out of sight.

“Once again, I ask that you don’t listen to him.” Honey said sternly, “I’d rather you don’t butcher our good town’s name like that.”

“Or what, you’ll arrest us?” Tucker muttered a little more audibly than he meant to.

Honey had already redirected her sheepdog stare his way and he shuffled uncomfortably.

“Ee-hat-chu.”

And there was no more discussion about that.

[mianite-memes]

While I’m out here giving a shout out to things fans make, I just gotta give a big one to Mianite: Awakening!

Honestly, Mianite: Awakening helped me get back into Mianite when it seemed like everyone had up and forgot about it. Sure, there were some rough parts, and they could never live up to what people wanted out of a season 3 (especially since the streamers weren’t ever going to be in) but they rocked it all the way through.

The series was a lovely blend of Mianite-based lore and personal additions. I was honestly sad to see it end!

[discordantplains]

Introducing:

Discordant Plains is a Mianite fan AU. It takes place after the jump into the void at the end of season 2. Much like Trinity Island Tiem Reester, now including Waglington the wizard, find themselves in a strange new dimension far from their intended destination. The inhabitants of Ruxomar who traveled through the void with them are nowhere to be found and have presumably arrived in the land of Mianite like originally planned.

This new world consists of a single city, Ihatchu, surrounded by so many miles of sprawling plains that it’s impossible to see if anything lies beyond them. With seemingly no other choice the five heros enter the city. Ihatchu is at least the size Dagrun was on Ruxomar and is quite charming with its tasteful rustic architecture and respectable technology.

As they make their way into the city they are greeted by someone who looks frighteningly familiar, if a lot less green. This welcoming face is nearly identical to Tom’s. Ihatchu seems to be home to another set of alternate reality versions of Tiem Reester, implying another set of gods as well. The alternates, quickly dubbed the Alts², have a strange and humorous dynamic, almost opposite in personality to their respective other selves.

Welcomed with open arms, and a plate of warm cookies from Tom’s Alt², Tiem Reester sets out to make contact with the elusive gods of this dimension and build a portal back to Mianite.

MODS | ABOUT | CHARACTERS

[discordantplains]

SkeleTom: “Who? I’ve never heard of them. I’d bet they’d be bone-tastic to meet, though!”

[discordantplains]

Honey Badger: “Dying is Illegal, unless under the provisions of: Old Age, Illness, Injury that was non-intentional, or as a Punishment for Crime. Please refrain from breaking the law.”