#because grian has looked up to scar since he first got into the field and maybe has a little crush and oh my god he’s actually real

[rosaacicularis]

au where scar retired as hotguy because he wanted to settle down and make a quieter life for himself after an injury, but he gets called back into the field for one last hurrah…. he gets paired up with a new hero named cuteguy, who matches his aesthetic and fighting style and is probably the prettiest person scar has ever seen…..

[sulatni-flerida11]

htbahb au dump !! because the brainrot is too strong

general context things

currently, the characters are in their college years. even though the plan is to have the main storyline happen when they already have jobs, their college years established dynamics between them. some dynamics luckily haven't changed over the years, but others may take longer to rebuild.

cleo owns an apartment close to uni, and they share it with grian & etho.

joel & scar live as interns on campus.

lizzie, jimmy, bdubs, and pearl are also interns, with lizzie & pearl as roommates in a different building and jimmy & bdubs living across joel & scar

au prolly takes place in a semi-rural area; it started as a town with a small population and lots of farmland, but it's slowly evolving to follow other highly urbanized cities.

the town hasn't gone fully urban since it takes pride in utilizing its land with locally manufactured agricultural resources and artisan goods.

courses/classes they're taking prolly

cleo - horticulture (with sculpting at the side)

joel - agribusiness management & entrepreneurship (he's not super into it yet)

scar - economics

etho - agricultural chemistry (secretly also likes music)

grian - literature (also enjoys photography)

lizzie - music (likes to experiment with different art mediums tho)

bdubs - architecture

jimmy - horticulture

pearl - economics

and other dynamics between the group !!

lizzie sometimes pulls bdubs & cleo to her experiments. every summer break, they take an art related class together. so far, they've done painting and dancing. (bdubs has already enrolled them in a modeling class for the upcoming break, but the other two don't know yet.)

joel, pearl, and scar would discuss their business and/or economics related classes to grian, and grian just smiles and nods in respect (of them and their friendship) even if he doesn't understand most things they're saying. ("wait, what is a griffin good?" "griffen, grian, with an e.")

the real reason why joel, pearl, & scar talk about their classes to grian is because they like messing with him. (he's not as good with hiding his confused look as he thinks.)

jimmy once accidentally found an opening to one of the private properties of a big business in town - a flower field. whenever he and cleo have floriculture assignments that involve getting flowers, they pick their flowers from there. sometimes, they'd discuss the flowers there, ways to care for them, flower meanings, etc. sometimes, joel and etho join them. as loud as they are, they've only had one instance where they almost got caught. (they never brought joel and etho with them since then.)

pearl & scar buy newspapers daily by the campus gate to chat about the current events, especially ones relating to their degree. they quickly befriended the newspaper vendor as he also had a lot of food for thought regarding the things going on. their discussions help them a lot, aiding them in their essays and analysis about economic policies and applications.

etho would sometimes ask lizzie about music theory. what was supposed to be a few messages would end up in hours of them talking about music. eventually, lizzie found out about etho's music hobby, and she's the only one that knows.

grian owns a polaroid camera, and he sometimes takes candid pictures of the gang. his subjects are usually cleo & etho, mostly because they're his roommates and he spends the most time with them, but there's also a handful of pictures with scar & pearl.

joel and lizzie started dating after scar, bdubs, & pearl convinced him to go to an open mic event in the dorms during their first year; lizzie happened to be one of the performers.

if you've made it this far, any thoughts on what music genres/artists each life series member listens to? totally not for oneshot purposes in this au,,,

[sweetest-honeybee]

Down to Dust

Chapter 1

Fic Summary: Grian will have to keep the dragon egg secure for the Watchers. But, they’re not the only ones who want it. On a completely unrelated note, Mumbo will have to deal with a version of himself thats only amplified by his No Killing mindset.

Chapter Summary: Grian’s getting tired of Scar’s shit and Mumbo thinks he’s a responsible adult.

Word Count: 1392

TW: None

Note: TEGG doesn’t exist in this fic

Enjoy!

———————

This was the third time this week that Scar managed to find Grian’s hiding spot for the dragon egg. Grian was sure that he couldn’t have possibly found it behind one of the sheep in his farm and yet, here the two builders were, one with a proud smirk on his face and the other glaring with a somewhat playful disdain. They stood in the center of Grian’s base interior, the avian cradling the egg in his arms.

“Someday I’m going to hide this egg a thousand blocks away in the ocean,” he said. “I bet you’ll waste your time then.” This was only met with a snort.

“Hey, I might. You never know,” Scar shrugged. “You never let anyone near it, it only makes it more fun!”

Grian rolled his eyes, biting back a smile at the other’s blatant ignorance. “I never let you near it. Besides, it's a fruitless attempt for me at this point.” He turned and rested the egg on a nearby anvil. “If I don’t let anyone near it, it’s because you told them to touch it in the first place.”

Scar raised a finger to say something but clamped his mouth shut with a reddening face. “Mumbo wanted to touch it,” he opted to retort.

The other didn’t reply, only facing his friend with a raised brow and crossed arms.

“Okay maybe I talked him into it but that’s not the point.”

Only now did Grian break into a grin. “Well, I hope you look forward to never seeing this egg again.” He tapped at the top of the shell. “It’s too special to lose.”

“Yeah I bet it is after it took five minutes to kill the dragon,” Scar laughed. “You’ve never told anyone why it’s so special, though. I’m curious.”

“That’s for me to know,” he jabbed a finger at Scar ,”and for you to never find out.”

“Ah, but I will.” Scar pulled his sleeve to check his watch. “But, my time here is done. I’ve got wagons to build.” With a tip of his hat, he exited the base.

Grian watched as the door shut behind him. “Talk about time management,” he mused.

With that, he sighed and swiveled his gaze to the egg. Under the later afternoon beams, it was a beautiful thing. Its contents, however...The avian shook his head. For now, it was a peaceful souvenir from his battle. Although, it wouldn’t be his to keep. Not for hundreds and thousands of years. It belonged to a much more powerful family of beings.

And so Scar needed to keep his hands off of it.

Despite this, however, Grian hardly minded the shenanigans. He wasn’t exactly praised by the egg’s owners; really, he lacked a more...optimistic relationship with them. Having his rank and abilities revoked by the Watchers was almost as bad as being disregarded by them as a Player entirely. He shuddered at the thought but followed Scar’s choice to leave the building; he wondered what his neighbors were up to. Although, he probably shouldn’t have left the egg so exposed should Scar try to touch it again.

He rolled his eyes to himself, then looked around. Scar, like he mentioned, was stringing together small wagons. Grian cringed at how much copper the man used in his builds- not because of distaste but that he could hardly imagine himself spending so much time grinding for the stuff. He glanced at his roof.

Well, maybe he could.

His gaze then rested on Pearl’s and Impulse’s bases, then Mumbo’s. It was strangely quiet this afternoon. He’d hardly seen any of the three since the day before. Mumbo moreso, but the other two not so much. Curious, he made his way across the field. Only then did Mumbo’s head pop out of a hole by his surface farm did Grian notice that anyone except Scar was out there at all.

Grian stopped and watched as his mustached friend pulled himself out of the hole. Unsurprisingly, he was covered in patches of mud and dust starting at the tips of his fingers. As he noticed that Grian was there, he waved.

“Hey!” Mumbo greeted happily. He stood and dusted himself off in a useless effort to look somewhat presentable. “Sorry about the mess, I’ve been fixing some things in the potato farm.”

“I thought that usually didn’t involve rolling in the dirt,” the avian chuckled. “I’m trying to keep Scar off of the egg.” Mumbo raised a brow. “No, it didn’t work.”

“Huh, I thought he’d never find it in the sheep pen.”

Grian scoffed. “You’d think.”

“You could hide it in someone else’s base. Or better yet, in his own base,” Mumbo suggested.

The avian contemplated the idea, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I can’t really let it go anywhere else.”

“You can’t or you won’t? I can babysit the egg.”

At that, Grian laughed a single ‘HA’ at the proposal. “I’d rather have Scar just take it,” he replied. “No offense. It’s a magical egg, you couldn’t handle it.”

The redstoner gaped with offense despite Grian’s comment. “I think I’d be great at it!”

“Right, right,” the other sneered, but couldn’t help but to giggle at the thought. Eventually, he calmed himself. “Anyways, I’ve got work to do. I suggest a bath for you as well.” Grian looked Mumbo up and down. “You need it.” With that, he rocketed himself away with a salute.

Mumbo stared in disbelief, then turned to Grian’s house. He’d be a great babysitter for the egg! Grian was only just trying to insult his obvious responsibility. Seeing as Grian couldn’t keep the egg away from anyone, it wasn’t like he was much better at the task. Besides, he couldn’t kill the dragon, so what better way to obtain a dragon egg than through showing Grian just how responsible he was with it.

With that thought, the redstoner looked around. Nobody other than Scar, who was busy building, was around. So, he more or less stealthily creeped his way into Grian’s base. If anything he probably looked like a long legged spider. Mumbo expected the dragon egg to be hidden once more but much to his surprise, it was blatantly out in the open. He almost face palmed for Grian’s sake. It was too easy. He hastily plucked the egg from its place and shoved it into his inventory. Hopefully, Scar wouldn’t find it odd for Mumbo to have been there should he notice anything weird.

Mumbo left quickly and already began conjuring plans for a vault. Knowing Grian, it hardly needed to be in any way complex. Where to put it, however, was the question plaguing his mind. He really didn’t have a lot of space to work with. But, the underground potato farm should work just fine. Behind the backdrop was a perfect area. So, he did just that. Within hours, the vault was done and dusted. In it, a quartz interior with a pillar topped with a purple pillow. Mumbo looked around, admiring his work. He then turned to the pillar and pulled the egg from his inventory. He placed it on the pillow carefully, almost as if he wanted the egg itself to be comfortable. With a pat to the top of the egg, he left the vault.

It’s been a while since he last saw Grian. The builder should’ve returned to his base by now and saw that the egg was missing. Mumbo supposed that Grian was simply hanging out with their neighbors. He ascended the ladder, still covered in layers of soil that fell from the wrinkles in his now stained white undershirt. The redstoner peeked his head out of the hole. The sky was dark and littered with stars. Zombies groaned and skeletons' bones clacked blocks away.

Ah, Grian might’ve been sleeping.

He sat on the edge of the hole, legs still dangling inside, and checked his watch. It was late and tremendously so. How long had he been under the ground for? He raked his fingers through his hair. Well, time to sleep then. He made his way to the van and after he did, he looked out once more before sliding the door shut. Tucking himself into bed, he drifted into a peaceful slumber. The thought of the stolen egg hardly left any thoughts on his mind.

[enderprtl]

various tangotek hcs because tangotek my beloved

this took all day beacause i have tangy brainrot... help. 

heads up that it gets angsty as HELL when it gets to the civil war because i’m a fan of watching myself and others cry over silly minecraft men <3 yes i plan to write a fic using my little hcs, its the brainrot.

His clothing colour palette changed when he swapped bases with Falsie, his coat and shit got turned all blue and the red streaks in his hair slowly faded to a steel blue. He kinda… camouflaged with the surroundings? His eyes and nails and ear tips stayed red, those really can’t change.

He’s some sort of undisclosed redstone beastie meets fire demon? He’s very, very warm, like literally, his bases are cold as hell to cool him down when it’s particularly hot on the server.

Netherborn! He’s got family in the Nether but doesn’t really know him, since he was primarily raised by piglins (implied angst, yes.) He was raised by a back of piglins and piglin brute and basically became techy to protect his home bastion from protection.

He left for one day to help the Hermitcraft server and then later learned he could live with them.

He left his family in the Nether (he lived pretty far from the main HC portal) to go join them in HC, he still misses them and visits them every Nether holiday, which he observes a little more than Overworld holidays.

He almost froze half to death in the Overworld (drastic temperature differences baby) but thanks to Zedaph and Impulse, he warmed back up again via lava dumping.

He’s partially immune to lava? It still hurts him but  it takes him longer to die unlike other hermits.

May or may not have wings? There’s a metal panel over his back that he uses as a power source when testing redstone since his body is so hot that it creates a power generator from whatever… is under the plate.

His parents abandoned him at the bastion for whatever reason (he was a wee youngun) and acts and looks more piglin in nature. He’s got big front teeth like boar tusks but don’t protrude out.

He was primarily carnivorous in the Nether and switching to a golden carrots only diet made him sick on multiple occasions till he adjusted, which is why he switches between pork chops and golden carrots.

He wears elbow length gloves under his coat because his hands are fucked up from work for Tek to the Skies and Iron Foundry. They’re usable but he has burns and scars all over it, his claws are long too so he hides them under gloves.

He has fingerless gloves for when he’s working on redstone contraptions, allows him to wiggle wires around with his little claws.

Water hurts like a bitch. He can take baths in boiling hot water (with help from Impulse to heat the water), but traditional river or ocean water will burn him.

His headband has ZIT stitched into it, each done by a member in their colour from their shirts; a red T, a black I, and a brown Z. It’s not even, it’s not pretty but it means the most to him.

The costume when he pranked the Stock Exchange was in fact makeup, he learned traditional Nether makeup from his piglin guardians, using soul sand, netherwart and bone blocks to make pastes and powders. He offered some to Grian, but he was a scaredy cat and declined.

Even though both he and Impulse play off the fighting during the Civil War, it did genuinely cause a rift in their friendship, and being raised by hostile mobs didn’t do him any good. He’d throw himself into work to counter Impulse’s contraptions and without Zedaph (inconveniently banned from the main island), their friendship grew a rift until the end of the war.

Tango tended to target out Impulse and vice versa. It was the first time anyone genuinely saw the more Netherborn/piglin side of Tango, he’d spend hours in his hot forge working away at expanding the base, counteracting Impulse’s contraptions, being generally a little cold for the demon.

He has a permanent scar from Impulse during one of the skirmishes going across his torso horizontally. They got into a massive field fight in one of the craters and basically ended up just, it started as a fist fight and then ended up with blades and potions and shouting. Scar swore up and down he saw a fire start in the pit even though none of them had flint and steel. Impulse respawned crying and Tango respawned bleeding and hoarse from screaming.

Without Zedaph around during the war, both of them got colder than usual. Tango kept blabbing about how “Zed’s our rock, our glue even.” to any of the other members of G-Team, he kept to himself the entire war after getting the scar. 

He, Zed and Impulse, after making up, had a week long sleepover where it was basically ZIT pillow pile with Tango as the heat pack for them all. 

Didn’t support (totally supported) Impulse giving himself a stick-n-poke tattoo of ram horns, a red eye and an I for team ZIT. 

For the Turf Wars, there was less beef, but they still got extremely into it, luckily with Zed there, they didn’t get as fighty as in the Civil War.

Cub thought he heard insults being thrown, but he kept his mouth shut after a shulker at Concorp changed his mind. 

[pixelfun20]

Flower Fields, Ch 1

Summary: Season 7 of Hermitcraft has begun, and their newest and youngest member, Tubbo, is more than ready to prove himself in the eyes of his friends. New memories are made and friendships are forged, but old ghosts from the past still linger, and Tubbo will soon discover that fate has a way of letting things come full circle.

Notes: This an fic idea I legitimately came up with yesterday, based off of @give-grian-rights ‘s Watcher!Tubbo and Watcher!Tommy AU (I hope you don’t mind! I just loved this idea). I wrote this a single evening, let it sit for the night, and decided to publish it today. I hope you guys like it! Just to note, I haven’t finalized a title (or plot, besides some major points) yet, so if y’all have any ideas, let me know!

Chapter 1:

I'm not yours, and you're not mine

But we can sit and pass the time

For a moment, he floated in darkness.

Then in the next, he was falling through the air.

He didn’t fall far, thankfully, and his impact was cushioned by another body right underneath him.

Tubbo groaned, blinking against the bright rays of the sun as he tried to adjust from the darkness that had just encompassed him. He shifted, feeling rough cloth underneath him, and realized he was lying on someone.

“Oh! Sorry!” He exclaimed, swiftly moving off the other. He looked down as he saw a man with dark brown hair, a beard, and a leather jacket sit up, rolling his shoulders with a wince. “I think I spawned right on top of you, xB.”

xBCrafted just chuckled, pulling himself up to his feet. Tubbo followed him, cracking his back as he went, and looked around, trying to discern where he was.

Ah, man. It seemed like they had spawned on a small, sandy island, that was, worst of all, completely devoid of trees. Already it was crowding with the arrival of the other Hermits, with a few more pairs repeating the same situation as he and xB, spawning one on top of the other in the enclosed space. In the distance, he could see a large mooshroom island looming above the waves, but besides that there was nothing in sight.

“Looks like we’ll be going for a swim today!” xB chirped as Iskall spawned a foot or so away from them, landing face-first in the sand. “X wasn’t lying when he said we’d have a tricky time starting the Season.”

“And here I was hoping to stay dry,” Tubbo sighed as Iskall shot up, spluttering sand in the air. The two of them laughed at his sorry state.

“Very funny, you two,” the elder man grumbled. Iskall85, or Iskall as he was commonly known, looked considerably older than the two friends, perhaps in his early thirties. He had semi-long, scraggly brown hair and a cybernetic eye, as well as a green sweatshirt and brown vest.

“Oho, is that Scar?” xB exclaimed. Tubbo followed his gaze, and sure enough, a man in a purple bathrobe and dyed-white hair had just spawned, half in the water. Ah, GoodTimesWithScar was an odd one, alright, he thought with a laugh.

“What did he do?” Tubbo giggled. Scar turned towards them, seeming to hear his comment, and put his hands on his hips.

“I’m sorry, Tubbo,” he announced semi-solemnly. “The wizard life has chosen me.”

Iskall nearly cackled at that, throwing his head back, and xB and Tubbo joined him. Trust Scar to find new and creative ways to start the season! Tubbo made a mental note to drop by in a few weeks and see where this new bit got him.

“Looking good, Scar!” Stress said, coming up behind him. The shortest of the Hermits, she wore a pink jacket and kept her straight brown hair short and to the chin. “How’re you doing, Tub?”

“Great!” Tubbo chirped back. “Excited to start the Season right.”

“Let me know if you need anything, love,” she added, clapping her hands together. “That goes for all of you! I’d chat for longer, but Mumbo and I have some plans we need to discuss. See you all in a bit!” And with that she was gone, hopping over to the other side of the island. Scar went right on her heels, jogging over to Cubfan135 (a balding man in a lab coat around Iskall’s age), who was standing next to Mumbo Jumbo.

Tubbo scanned over the rapidly growing group of people, grinning once he caught sight of a flash of black-striped yellow armor in the crowd. 

“Hey! X!” He called out, waving. A man fully covered in armor, painted to resemble a bee, looked over to them. Through his vizor, Tubbo could see the corners of his brown eyes crinkle in the tell-tale sign of a smile, and he approached the trio. “Love the outfit!”

“Thank you, Tubbo,” XisumaVoid replied, patting him on the shoulder. “I’m quite liking your new design, too.”

Tubbo fought back a blush, looking down at himself. Like the elder man, he’d changed up his usual outfit to celebrate the newest mob addition to Season 6, the bees. He’d changed into a yellow jacket with black stripes on the sleeves over a gray shirt, as well as black pants with a yellow stripe down the sides. 

“Alrighty, I’ll be leaving you two to your father-son bonding,” Iskall cut in, waving a hand as he walked off. “I’m going to go catch up with Keralis.”

“Oh, will you stop with that!” Xisuma said good-naturedly as Tubbo really did his best not to blush. xB laughed again. Iskall just whistled, walking over to where Keralis, a man in his late thirties in a blue shirt and jeans, had just spawned. The server’s admin turned back to Tubbo. “Sorry about that. You know how he can be.”

Tubbo just shook his head a bit, trying to suppress a smile. Ah, it’d been far too long since the Hermits had all been in one place like this. He’d missed the action of it all.

He, Xisuma, and xB chatted together for a few minutes as everyone spawned in and caught their bearings. It seemed everyone had big plans for the Season. While he and Xisuma had gone with a bee theme, xB was apparently planning to really Hermit out the season, far away from spawn. Scar was certainly embracing the wizard part of himself, and rumor had it BDubs and Doc were going to be neighbors, which was a recipe for disaster and, more importantly, funny stories. 

“Okay, everyone!” It was Keralis’ shout that drew the twenty-some players out of their respective conversations. Almost unconsciously, they’d formed an oval around the perimeter of their tiny spawn island. “Intro time! Let’s go, X!”

“What? Why me?” Xisuma protested, but Keralis just laughed and took his place back in the circle.

“C’mon, admin,” Tubbo teased him with an elbow to the side. Xisuma sighed, rolling his shoulders, then stepped out into the center of the island.

“Alright everyone. Welcome to Hermitcraft Season 7! Go!” He clapped his hands together and dashed back towards the shore, the circle immediately breaking up as the Hermits split into their groups and dove into the ocean. Tubbo laughed as he waved goodbye to xB, who took off in a different direction as he went to follow X.

The water was nice and lukewarm, and soon enough Tubbo was backstroking over the ocean. He looked up at the bright blue sky, and smiled.

~~~~~~~~~

They spent most of the first day collecting supplies. 

As it turned out, both FalseSymmetry, Hypnotizd, and ZombieCleo had decided to go in the same direction as he and Xisuma, so they ended up gathering their first bits of wood and stone together. Then there was some issue with the server that caused Xisuma to have to dive deep into the server code, in the open, at midnight, so their first night went without much sleep and with a lot of mob fighting instead.

“Well,” Cleo said the next morning, twirling her axe as Tubbo set to cooking some meat for breakfast. “That could have gone better.”

“I think the first night went just fine, thank you very much,” False shot back, sharpening her newly-minted stone sword. “I’m going to be honest, though, I’m not used to going out at night without an elytra. Or armor. Or a decent sword.”

“Hey, but did you see how many mobs I killed?” Tubbo put in, pulling out some pork chops and tossing one to Cleo. “I’m a god, I tell you.”

“Yes,” Xisuma replied. He was still sitting on one of the beds they’d made, and was double checking some of the code. “God of giving me heart attacks.”

“Not my fault you messed up part of the code! I saved your life!”

“I’d suggest you remember who bandaged that arrow wound, kid.”

Tubbo’s hand flew to his shoulder, where his jacket was torn slightly, and he blushed. “I’m not a kid!”

Everyone turned and gave him a flat look, and Tubbo blushed harder, looking down. It was no secret that he was, by far, the youngest person on the server. Most players were in their late twenties, like False and Impulse, to their late thirties, like Scar and Doc. Even the youngest before he’d arrived had been Mumbo and xB, at 24 and 19 respectively. At just barely 16, Tubbo was, well, a child compared to them.

Loathe as he was to admit it. It had been hard enough in the beginning, when he’d arrived unexpectedly at the beginning of Season 6. No one had been expecting any new players to join that Season, much less a mentally scarred 14-year-old, and he’d ended up being coddled for the first six months or so. Heck, he’d lived with Xisuma until he’d grown so tired of it he’d had to run off and make his own base without asking him, because the answer would have been no.

He was perfectly capable of living on his own! It was just… well, Tubbo knew he wasn’t as good as the others. He couldn’t make the huge, rolling complexes or over complicated redstone machines that did everything for you like the other hermits did. Of course, it made sense; he had a lot less experience and was still learning these things. But it didn’t help the fact that the others, well, they didn’t look down on him, per se, but they were always a little too willing to help, a little too protective. 

“Sure,” Cleo was drawling teasingly, drawing him out of his thoughts. Tubbo snorted and looked down at his breakfast with a shake of his head, starting to eat. 

“Oh, let him be,” Hypno put in, grabbing some food for himself. “I remember being that age. Young and ready to take on the world. At least he doesn't have any creaky old bones. I’m already feeling my back in the mornings.”

“Alrighty then!” Xisuma announced after a moment of silence, rising from his bed and closing the admin screens. “Looks like all the post-spawn bugs have been taken care of. I’m ready to head out for the day.”

“I guess this is where we all say goodbye, then,” False replied, twirling her sword. “I have the best idea for my base this season, but I gotta go north from here.”

“Tubbo and I are heading east.”

“West for me,” Cleo put in.

Hypno just shrugged. “I figured I’d wander for a bit before settling down.”

“No planning?” Tubbo asked, then grinned, glad for the change of subject. “I like your style, Hypno.”

The bandana-ed man inclined his head at him with a smile. He wasn’t a new player to the server, not at all, but from what Tubbo knew he hadn’t been around for a few years. Prior to the last few days as they’d prepared to jump Seasons, he’d hardly even heard of the man before, and thus didn’t know him too well.

Xisuma clapped Tubbo’s shoulder, eyes crinkling from that helmet-obscured smile of his. 

“Ready to go?” he asked.

Tubbo whooped. “Bees, here we come!”

~~~~~~~~~

Perfect.

That was the only way Tubbo could describe the place he’d come across. He sat in the branches of one of the tallest trees in the area, looking out to where the forest he’d been traversing ended and the plains biome, scattered with flowers in small patches around, with gentle hills rolling even further in the distance.

It was an idyllic location, and perfect for his plans for the Season.

Another day had passed, marking it Day 3 of Season 7. After that first somewhat disastrous night, he and Xisuma had separated from their initial group and travelled to find a base together. Xisuma had decided, for some reason, that he was going to build his base in the middle of the jungle, so they had set up camp there for the night. Come dawn, however, Tubbo was ready to go and scout for a place of his own, and with a promise to check in with Xisuma every day or so, he’d set off that morning.

It was early afternoon, now, and honestly, Tubbo was pleased with how quickly he’d found his spot. It was only a half-day’s journey, while walking, from Xisuma, so once he’d gotten elytra he’d be able to visit whenever he wanted. Besides that, news had it that Keralis and Beef were only a little ways out, which would be fun since Tubbo didn’t know them too well.

Humming quietly, Tubbo reached into his inventory and took out the only belonging he’d taken with him from Season 6－a medium-sized notebook, filled with sketches and notes on what he wanted to build and how to do it. Last Season he hadn’t been ambitious enough; Tubbo had started late thanks to living with Xisuma and then had focused on just having a base of his own that by the end of the season it had looked puny compared to the many buildings his friends/guardians had made.

He wasn’t making that mistake again. Tubbo had grand plans for this Season’s megabase, and he was going to make sure it blew everyone else out of the water.

Okay, maybe that was an over exaggeration. But Tommy had always said to aim high.

His heart twisted a bit, as it always did when he thought of his old friends. Back then, he’d known people his own age, and Wilbur and Techno had rarely held back against him when they’d interacted with him, whether through words or PvP.

He wondered how they were doing; it’d been almost two years since he’d last seen or heard from them. He wondered if they’d moved on.

He wondered if they knew he was still alive.

Tubbo shook his head, chasing the depressing thoughts out of his mind. He’d found himself thinking of his old friends less and less over the last year and half, as he’d settled into life in Hermitcraft and begun to heal from what had happened to him. Not to say he didn’t miss them, that he wasn’t missing something in his life, but, well. Even though he thought of them every once in a while, the numerous letters he’d written to Tommy, unable to be sent, had been left behind with Season 6, in a way of really starting anew.

Doc had explained it best. Life moved on, and sometimes it was best to just hold onto the old memories and work on making new ones.

He’d taken that advice to heart. Tubbo flipped open his notebook to one of the middle pages, holding it out and comparing his sketch to the open plains before him.

Yes. This biome would do quite nicely.

Season 7 was going to be something great.

[archetypal-archivist]

Sky’s Limit- Hermitcraft- Worldbuilding

Heyo! This was the product of a plot bunny I got while watching the newest animated music video by Porter Robinson, and it features pretty much all the hermits. Long into the distant future, there is a city of gleaming white and technological marvels. Electricity is entirely clean, its people are always happy, and life- as it has always done- goes on. However, for all it seems like a utopia, there is one facet that may seem out of place. The city is truly, utterly silent. Sure, there are voices and happy chatter, laughter on street corners and children running in the streets. But there is no hum, no electric buzz that most crafters of the past would have been familiar with. There is no redstone. For indeed, the red dust is entirely illegal and those who work with it are relegated to the city’s dark underbelly. And not all of them are happy to be there. It is in this city, the city of Sky’s Limit, that I have dropped our hermits. Time will tell what happens next.

----

A story in which the world has been… purified. Think skyblock, portrayed as a world of natural wonder, soft angles and high rises that scrape the clouds above, all in shimmering shades of pearlescent white. The only noise is the rushing of the wind through the grass far, far below and the distant echo of passing conversation and laughter. There are no cars, no chatter of coms, no hissing creepers or vroomping, thieving endermen. Just peace. And sometimes, if you listen carefully enough, the flapping of wings as the most blessed of the city’s inhabitants fly  overhead, the celebrity darlings and envy of everyone below. For some of the hermits, life is good. Bdubs, Xisuma, Grian, and Jevin are all upper nobility. Xisuma and Grian are some of the lucky few with wings (bee and bird respectively for X and G), while Jevin is blessed simply for being sky blue and transparent- and a being so like the sky must surely be worthy of high ranking. Surely. Xisuma is an administrator of the city, one of those who keep track of the nitty-gritty bits, like how much food each sector goes through a month, the efficiency of the watering systems in the fields, etc. Grian is just a straight up celebrity darling, beloved by the people for his pranks and personality. Late at night, he runs a TV talk show. Jevin has a seat on the city governance, one of thirteen “elected” chancellors. Bdubs is another chancellor, low-key the one in charge, as it was his idea to create a city of white, one that ran on clean energy and lawfulness, who drew up the first blueprint and built much of the city himself. It’s said that there’s no corner of it he isn’t aware of, no part that he didn’t have a hand in designing. While this isn’t quite the case, one thing is certain- BDubs certainly has “designs” and they are very grand indeed. After these hermits fall the ones who are upper to middle class. Stress is a well-trusted doctor in the city’s finest hospital. She believes in the system that saved her life so long ago with all her heart and does her best to keep the city and its people running as best as they possibly can. Compassion and lawful goodness fall into the same boat for Stress, which can sometimes end poorly for criminals who go to her for medical care, thinking that surely a doctor as kind as Stress would never turn away someone, even if they have broken the law. What they forget is that becoming a doctor takes a spine of steel, and Stress has gone one step above the rest- she has a spine of chrome, and she will do what she must to keep her city running strong. (Incidentally, that chrome spine of hers? Not hyperbole, an “accident” at 6 made sure of that.) Vintagebeef runs a butcher shop and is mid to low ranking. He serves the best sandwiches in the city, as attested to by his best customers, Rendog and Falsesymmetry. Rendog is a happy go lucky reporter who spends equal time chasing skirts as he does chasing his next scoop. False is a beat cop, one of the best, and she’s gone viral at least once for dumping criminals who think that just because she's a girl that means she can’t fight. She’s particularly embarrassed (and a bit proud) of the video of her literally picking up a criminal and dumping him the nearest trash chute. Welsknight, the unfortunate garbage man, was quite unhappy to have to remove the criminal from the chute, as for all of False’s strength, she wasn’t quite strong enough to pry the man loose again. He now low-key follows False around to clean up all of her messes as while the media at large is quite fond of her feats, the local infrastructure isn’t.  Somehow, he always ends up at the right place at the right time. Scar is a bit down on his luck, but overall is doing pretty well for himself. He’s one of the architects for the city, was in fact famous for a time for creating a specific style of sheer white skyscraper that allowed for more solar panels to be placed along its side. However, 2 years later and people are starting to realize that for some reason, his buildings aren’t as efficient as they ought to be and his designs have since fallen out of favor. Rendog had taken great joy running his name through the muck, unfortunately, as a man’s got to eat and for all the Scar is a nice guy, a renowned architect falling from grace makes for quite the scoop. The two don’t like each other much, but they’ve actually seen each other’s faces. Anyway, Scar has been living off of his savings, hoping that someone up top would care enough about him to fix the issue and find out what went wrong. After 2 years of nothing, however, he has realized that if he ever wants to figure out the mystery of his buildings’ lack of efficiency, he’ll need to find out himself. Little does he know, Keralis, the architect that replaced him, has been doing quite well for himself and the last thing he wants is to lose his position to the guy he had replaced. While a generally nice guy, Keralis has had a taste of the high life and now there’s no going back. He knows what Scar is up to, and is quite… invested in keeping the status quo. No. Matter. What. Joe Hills runs a bookstore. A completely normal bookstore. Yes, really officer, I promise. Just like how XB, his best friend and right hand man, employee of the month, every month, is entirely average in every way and has never done anything wrong in his life, ever. There is one more among the hermits who has wings- Etho. Or rather, had. Etho had his wings cut off for undisclosed crimes against the city and now works in a toy shop on the outskirts of town. He’s thoroughly mysterious and always looks tired, but his toys and trinkets business does surprisingly well and he always seems happy, behind that mask of his. The only hint that this isn’t quite the case is the tightness around his eyes. A secret? When they told him that the pain would never stop, that awful night when they burnt his wings off? He didn’t believe them. (Oh god, the way it smelled.) He really, really should have. 

You’ve heard about the shining white walls, the perfect healthcare, the love the people hold for the city and the rigor with which they defend it. The quiet, the peace, the wonderful golden silence found in its streets and reflecting from its windows. Even the light seems quieter there. If you’re smart, you may have picked up that something isn’t quite right with the city, that 2/3s of our cast seems to be missing. You’d be right, almost. Mumbo, Cub. Cleo? They aren’t missing- they’re hiding. And they have very good reason to do so. 

The city’s name is Sky’s Limit, and it is built on a foundation of marble and hard, cold law. It is a city of white… and black. And lurking in its shadows are all those that do not belong, those whose colors do not fit, those who can’t afford the brilliant marble towers or the plastic smiles popularized by the rich and famous. It is a city choked into silence by its secrets and one thing it cannot abide is the humming electric whine of redstone. And those who practice it are criminals in the eyes of the law, to be persecuted to its fullest extent and often, even beyond. Even to the grave, if needs must or the council orders such. And BDubs is so very, very fond of his restful, quiet beauty sleep. Not everyone agrees with these laws however, and brewing in the black, sunless shadows of the city’s underbelly are those determined to see the city shine red. Zedaph is the closest to legal of the underground hermits- he has to be when he has two more mouths to feed, Tango and Impulse. Although the latter two are redstone geniuses and do well in making food stretch and and make their ramshackle rented apartment livable, it is Zedaph alone who  fake any marketable skills. While Impulse and Tango do their best to keep the lights on and use redstone wiring to steal power from the city’s solar- and wind-powered electrical grid, Zedaph peddles the doodads and toys he makes to the poorest children of the city. Many of them still contain some measure of redstone, as it's nigh-impossible to ignore its thrumming call entirely if you are born to do the stuff, but his target audience is usually too young, too uneducated, and too scared of the law to recognize it or say anything about it. And if a bit of redstone Impulse or Tango put together can help someone make it another day, and Zedaph can make it look passably legal? Well, some of the poorest housewives and mothers can look the other way The trio are happy together, but making ends meet is hard and with summer coming, resources are soon to be harder to get than ever. (A city of light and pure white? Things start to heat up fast, and water becomes more precious than ever. And with summer coming, it means less water gathering in puddles and drain pipes in the city, and thus less water for the underground redstoners and hybrids to tap into.) Little does Zedaph know, however, he’s caught the attention of another toymaker in the city. In addition to this, Tango is getting restless, frustrated with the trio’s lot in life. Even under normal circumstances he can’t sit still, and being cooped up inside all the time because his glowing red eyes give him away as being both a hybrid and really in tune with redstone? It sucks. A lot. Impulse tries to keep his buddy distracted, but there’s only so much he can do, and now, Tango has been disappearing at odd hours, frequently when he and Zedaph are trying to sleep, and coming back with an odd look in his eyes. Just a few days ago he had found the remains of a charred pamphlet in their dumpster out back. Something is coming to head, and Impulse isn’t sure he’s going to like the outcome. Not that he’d ever mention the mounting tension to Zedaph, of course. His buddy has enough to worry about. ZombieCleo… runs a speakeasy/burlesque show underneath Joe’s bookstore. She has his full approval of course, and they’re fast friends under the merits of he’s one of the only decent men she’s ever met. It helps that he’s hardcore aro-ace and has no interest in her or her girls. Cleo, being a zombie hybrid, knows all too well about the tough life being a hybrid is and how it can make people turn to awful things just to make ends meet. She knows that doing sex work is the last thing her girls want to be doing, not that they have a choice, and she does her best to do right by them. She protects her workers viciously, and if any of her patrons try to treat her girls too roughly, or try to skip out on payment? Well, being a hybrid comes with a few perks and a nice pair of teeth and nails is all part of the package. Coincidentally, Joe is awfully good at hiding a body. Doc is perhaps the most down on his luck of the hermits. As both a redstoner and an obvious hybrid, he can’t find work, he can’t find anyone willing to rent to him, he can barely even find food enough to eat. He’s resorted to petty theft and squatting, and if it wasn’t for his ruthless determination that this city would not be the death of him, he would have laid down and given up long ago. Not even the occasional rendezvous with the local garbage cans is enough to deter him (courtesy of the local beat cop. That woman has no right to be as strong as she is). It’s on one such day, trying to pry himself out of yet another trashcan far too small for him, that Doc finally gets his lucky break. The old man to whom the trashcan belongs to comes out, hoping to dispose of his waste for evening, and instead finds the creeper hybrid there, cursing up a storm and angry enough to kill. The sight would almost be threatening to TFC if, you know, he hadn’t seen worse and the hybrid in question looked like he hadn’t had a good meal for years. TFC invites Doc inside after helping to pry him loose, and Doc, while suspicious, accepts. TFC low key makes Doc move in with him and treats the man well, seeing as the poor hybrid reacts to every little thing as if he had never seen kindness. TFC also begins to tell stories to Doc about the time before the city was built, before redstone was outlawed and hybrids were looked down upon as lesser beings. And Doc, utterly enchanted by the concept, begins to have… ideas. Iskall was in the same position as Doc for a while, but they too get their lucky break. They get picked up by Mumbo Jumbo and is introduced to the Cotillion, the rebel group who are out to shake the city to its very foundations and bring about an age of redstone dominance. Mumbo and the hundreds of people under him plan on breaking the social order and instating redstoners and hybrids as the top dogs, and Iskall finds themself shocked that the rebels seem to have the organization and resources to actually do it. Mumbo is witty and charismatic, seemingly always having a plan and a silver-tongued speech to go with it. He also installs Iskall as second in command, much to their shock. Time will tell if the Cotillion is going to succeed. Cub is living in one of Scar’s buildings, along with many other redstoners. Just... Not entirely legally.

This is pretty much the end of the world-building section, I’ll come out with a post on the general plot as soon as I can. TBC :)

[writing-the-end]

LoL Chapter 27- Hermits

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

Its not often the hermits get a chance to all be together. And while they know battles lie ahead of them, they take this moment to enjoy being a family again. 

______________________________________

Etho appears beside TFC, causing the mineral mage to sputter out the coffee he was sipping. “I caught sight of xB a few islands down!” 

The hermits murmur with excitement and follow Etho to the shoreline. Sure enough, xB is hauling Hypno and Beef onto the warm sand. Hypno thumps his hand against his head, an attempt to escape his clogged ears which only fails for him. “Can’t we take a sky turtle next time?” 

“But it’s more fun to swim!” xB chuckles, and with a flick of his finned ears and his grey tail he runs to hug the hermits. “It’s so good to be back, guys! I can’t remember the last time all of us were on the island together.”

“You guys said something about taking back Lairyon?” Beef raises an eyebrow, looking over at Doc. “This isn’t your rebellious phase coming back, is it?”

“We’ll explain everything on the way. TFC has a lot to tell.” Etho wraps his arms around Hypno and xB, before disappearing into their shared shadow. 

The kipling laughs, shaking his head and looking around the island. “Some things never change. I see you haven’t fixed the hole in False’s forge either.” 

The hermits laugh, the entire group filled with life as they return to the guild hall. Joe and Cleo regale the missing hermits with the story of their victory at the Chimaera’s Championship. Their battles and challenges in the arena, facing off against the best guilds and winning the cup. They also tell Hypno, xB, and Beef about the heist, the discovery. 

“Why am I not surprised?” Hypno hums, tapping his fingers against the wood of the table that he sits down at. TFC pats the boys on the head, grabbing at Beef’s face and tapping his finger on a scar he sees. Beef shrinks away, concerned for a second, but the guildmaster only chuckles in response.

“I can’t wait to hear that story. It’s good to have you guys back.” TFC pats him on the back. “Treat you to a pint of beer next time we go to town.” 

“Let’s hear about this big job you’ve got planned for us first.” xB raises an eyebrow. In response, TFC rolls out his map.

The paper has changed since they first decided to go after Dolios and his creepy crystals. If there’s one thing an outlaw guild knows how to do, it’s to find new jobs through the grapevine. “Dolios has these tales silenced. I’ve heard of at least six other guilds being attacked or wiped out by unknown magic. Unfortunately, we’re too late to help them.” Team ZIT glance at one another, but focus on the here and now. “But there are places we can make a difference, as well as get information and better ourselves as a group.”

TFC motions to the Evernight forest. “An old friend of mine said there has been stories of familiars and companion animals going missing. No trace of where they went, except for a few patches of charred grass.”

“Charred, or drained?” Mumbo muses. To anyone, that sounds like the signs of a dragon ravaging Foresta, but after Mumbo’s duel with a draconic mage he knows dragons aren’t that dastardly. Nothing is as dastardly as Dolios. 

TFC grins, the newest member and the guildmaster sharing a knowing glint. “There’s also Shellor- which, I believe one of our hermits here knows quite intimately.” Etho gives a two fingered salute, rocking on the back legs of his chair until they fall out from under him, dumping him on the floor. Doc, Beef, and BDubs laugh at him. “There’s a few spies who’ve seen things Dolios has done, but the hard part will be earning their trust.” 

“Hmm, yeah. I don’t think I really left Shellor on a good note.” Etho grimaces. 

“That’ll be you, Keralis, and Grian’s problem. Meanwhile, we also need some help in the magical beings department. And if there’s one group that has mysterious, arcane magic on lock, it’s-”

“The fae!” Stress slams down her hands, a bright smile on her face. Iskall jolts upright and nearly hits the table again on the way down. “But where will we go? The fjords? The mountains? Heartbreak Trench?” 

“The flowerfruit fields. While you’re there, you and BDubs can gather ingredients that we’ve been running low on.” TFC glances at the map, running a finger over the lime green patch on the map. “We do have two confirmed crystal sightings, as well as Gildara. Edenswell seems to be falling ill to dark magic, and there’s reasonable belief that Dolios isn’t getting these massive rocks from nowhere- he’s using gems from the mines.” 

Heads peek over one another in an attempt to see the map. The charcoal diamonds and swirls. Gildara still sits untouched, and every hermit looks at one another. Do any of them want to return to the beginning of this all? Even to put an end to the dark magic plaguing the land, the memories of what they saw, what they experienced, still remain. 

Except for those that weren’t there. “I don’t think I’d mind checking out this hokey little town you guys keep talking about.” Beef grins, glancing over at Hypno and Wels. “We’ll have that place brimming with flaxen fields and green gardens all over again.” 

TFC grins, dipping his head in thanks to the returning hermits. He leans back, looking at the filled guild hall. “It’s been so long since we’ve all been together. If only it were on good terms.” 

“It feels good to return home.” xB ruffles his hair with a scaled hand, looking around for a second, then returning to speaking. “Even if it’s just for a short time, we should enjoy everyone being together again.” 

“What I’m hearing is we need to have our signature hermit celebrations.” Tango’s face splits into a devious smile. All around him, other hermits get a similar smirk on their face. Before TFC can agree to the idea, the hermits are gone. Cleo rushes to her wrecked pirate ship, hefting kegs of ale with the aid of Stress. Wels commandeers False’s forge to begin baking his favorite sweets, while Mumbo, Grian, and Iskall work together to fix the pennants, lanterns, and flags that decorate the guild hall in a myriad of colors. 

Tango snaps his fingers, and a small flame dances at his fingertips, jumping from his nails to the wicks of the lanterns. He ducks out of the way just in time to avoid being smacked in the face by a massive fish, tossed from the sea by xB and grabbed by Grian midair. The whirlpool mage disappears back underwater, back to hunting in the realm he was born in. 

The sun begins to inch towards the western horizon, turning the sky ablaze in a mosaic of pinks, oranges, yellows, and reds. A blue flag flutters against the ancient oak tree, catching on a branch. BDubs reaches out from his seat near the food platters, hardly even glancing away from the fresh baked goods, and with a flick of his wrist the branch bends away and the flag flies free again. 

False appears beside Wels, grabbing a brownie from the hot pan and sticking her tongue out at him as she passes. When Wels objects she’s quick to retort. “You used my forge. It’s rental payment, paladin.” 

Beef sets out plates, which are promptly ignored once Impulse and Zedaph have finished cooking the tuna xB caught. Music swells from a music box the creation of Ren, with the help of Mumbo, the upbeat songs written and composed with Joe and requests from the other hermits for their favorite tunes. 

The music thrums against the low roar of talking, the sound only broken by the common lilt of laughter. Hermits tell their stories, whether they be heard for the thousandth time or a new tale to tell. Beef causes Hypno to flush as he recounts the prank he pulled on the dream mage. Hypno turns bright red, quiet voice cracking over the tale. “I smelled like centaur shit for a week! It was awful, I’ll tell you that.” 

A raucous laugh erupts from that table, overshadowing the story of Mumbo’s duel to xB. “I swear on my life, I thought she was gonna swallow me whole. Or burn me like coal.” Mumbo shakes his head. “I don’t think I ever want to go up against a draconic mage ever again in my life.” 

“I’m surprised a kipling, a draconic mage, and a desert wizard were one team. That’s a strange group. I don’t think I’ve even met each of the others.” xB takes a bite of his fish, marinated in fresh fruits that Cub plucked from nearby islands. “But I’m sure that kipling gave you guys a run for your money. That magic she had… it’s rare beyond imagination. In kipling legend, it means a legendary hero is about to arise.” 

“He definitely kicked Ren’s ass. I don’t think I ever saw so much water moved at once.” Mumbo shakes his head, and stuffs a red jelly tart into his mouth. 

Keralis stands, tossing his woven hat from the brown curls of his hair, and inviting himself onto the open floor. “I love this song! Come on, my wonderful friends, let’s dance!” 

The setting sun casts a golden glow, bouncing off verdant leaves, twisting along the waves of the Ashioll sea. Laughter and music dance in the gilded light, playing in the curls of Zedaph’s hair as he joins Keralis. The two bumble around, drunk from Cleo’s ale but enjoying themselves immensely. 

Only one hermit wasn’t taking part in the festivities. Atop the canopy that protects the guild hall below, Xisuma watches as the stars appear in the sky. For a few moments in the day, the void and the sun share the space above. And he always thinks of the one person he knows he should forget by now. But he would’ve loved this, even if he’s constantly worrying about being caught doing something wrong. 

“Hey X, you gonna mope up there all day or join us?” Jevin grins below, one hand placed on his hip and the other waving Xisuma down. “Just because you’re a void mage doesn’t mean you have to a-void everything!” 

Xisuma rolls his eyes, but smiles beneath his mask. “After that terrible pun, how can I say no?”

[spruceplank]

Glitch06

First // Previous //Current // Next >> --------- Also on ao3!

At first it wasn’t noticeable. Maybe the blocks you just broke would suddenly go back to where they had been. Maybe your hits wouldn’t connect with the mob you were hitting. Then it slowly got worse and worse. And then the world around them started to vanish.

And that was only the beginning.

“Falsie?” someone was calling her name, who was it? They sounded familiar, “You back with us Falsie?”

Groaning she rubbed at her head. What an awful headache, “Ugghhhh what happened?” 

Blinking against the light she tried to adjust to the seething brightness and searing pain in her head. Good lord had someone dropped an anvil on her head?

“Hey False look at me please?” Xisuma, that was Xisuma’s voice to her left. She turned to look at him and was taken aback because his visor was off? Xisuma rarely took that off. She could count the number of times it had happened on her two hands. “Whatever is was seems to be gone now, how do you feel Falsie?”

“I, I feel like someone dropped an anvil on my head.” she rasped out slowly looking around the room. Xisuma, Ren, Wels, and Joe took up most of her field of vision. They were in her bedroom, and there were a lot of people in here. 

“Is Falsie good?” Iskall walked up and peered over Joe’s shoulder. 

“Yeah aside from a bad headache,” Xisuma explained, “how’s Grian?”

“Still unconscious,” Iskall looks worriedly over his shoulder, between him and Joe she could see Grian slumped against the wall with purple wisps flying around him. Mumbo and Zedaph were frantically talking to Cub and Scar. Off to the side Doc stood with Tango and Impulse who were speaking between themselves. “No one can really figure out what happened.”

She looked around at all the other hermits worriedly, “Guys what happened?” 

None of them looked at her, except Ren who had yet to stop staring at her face since she had woken up. 

“Falsie, is it really you this time?” He stared at her in disbelief, voice quiet in a way that she cannot remember ever hearing before. 

“Of course it’s me, what are you -”

Shes immediately cut off by a body slamming into hers and a loud wail. She barely stops the back of her head from hitting the wall. She awkwardly starts to rub his back as he sobs into her shoulder. What, what happened? She forgets to breathe as her eyes catch up to her brain and she remembers how he looked. Red angry scabs cover most of his face and neck. What had happened? 

The others startle at the sound and turn to look at her. Across all her friends faces she can just see the instant they see her they all seem to calm down. Ren continues to sob and there’s nothing she can do but stare blankly at the air and worry for her friend.

She looks up at X and meets his eyes, “X, what, what happened?”

X only looks sadly at Ren before looking back at her, visior gone she’s able to clearly see the exhaustion on his face and the worry in his eyes. She can hear it in his voice, the tired defeat, when he speaks quietly, “Actually, we don’t really know what happened. We were hopping you could tell us.”  

And so she does, once Ren calms down a little at least. She had started her day out like any other. Getting up, checking her messages, gathering things she would need for that days project. She’d set off down to her mines and was messaging Ren about plans they had made for later in the day. She’d mined for a while and got an inventory full of goods and decided to head back up. She had stopped responding to Ren because trying to type with a full inventory was a struggle and he could wait for a response until she walked back up out of the mines. Yet on the way back towards the stairs she saw a diamond sword laying on the ground. Tossing some coal out of her inventory she picked it up. The second she grabbed the hilt a voice seemed to echo inside her head. Though it was quiet, it was all she could hear in a strange voice that didn’t sound like anything she had ever heard before, “ᴡᴀᴋᴇ ᴜᴘ”. 

“Then the next thing I knew, I woke up with a splitting headache and everyone gathered around worrying.” she explained. 

“A sword, just lying there?” X repeated back to her, baffled. 

She nodded, “Yeah it was really strange.”

“Did it look enchanted or anything?” Impulse asked.

She thought about it for a moment and then shook her head,“Not that I could tell, what happened to the sword?”

“It’s vanished.” Tango cut in from where he was leaned up against the wall, “When Grian killed you it didn’t drop with the rest of your items, it just vanished.”

“When Grian? Why did Grian kill me!” 

Tango looked over at Grian as he spoke, “We just had pinned you down and then we managed to tie you up so you couldn’t maneuver the sword. Then once Grian and X showed up, Grian just… something happened.”

“What does that mean?” 

Zedaph shuffled and looked at the ground, “Itw… it was like he wasn’t even Grian anymore…” 

There was a pause. Everyone seemed to shuffle around unsure of what to do now. X, ever the leader, spoke up, “Well I don’t think we can really get answers on that front until he wakes up, so-”

“What did the voice sound like?” Scar interrupted. She looked over at him and he was staring directly at her. She knew, only from that look in his eyes, that somehow he had heard the exact same face.  

“What was that Scar?” X asked. 

“The voice that said wake up, what did it sound like?” Scar repeated, searching her face for the answer they both already knew. 

Maybe for the others in the room or maybe just so they would both know for sure she answered, “Distorted. Glitchy. Ominous. Creepy.” 

“I think I heard that voice too.” Scar admitted softly. 

Cub looked worriedly at Scar, “When you were stuck in that chunk?” 

“Wait, when what happened?” Joe asked. 

Everyone looked to him to explain. He really didn’t want to. He didn’t want to relive that for even a second. But they had to figure out what was going on. And now that voice had spoken to False as well. Jellie purred in his arms and curled up closer to him if that was even possible. Jellie was here with him, he could do this. So he took a deep breath and explained what had happened.

He’d stopped along the way to Hermitville to renovate another village he had found. He had wanted to try out some ideas and after renovating the village in a futuristic modern style. He finally felt all set to head out to Hermitville. Him and Jellie were just walking through the taiga, enjoying nature and taking it slow. It was nice out and it was nice to just walk for once, but something happened. 

He took a step and the ground beneath him vanished in a flash. The entire chunk he had just stepped into became just empty space. .For a minute he was just frozen there in midair. He couldn’t see anything. He assumed he was floating, he didn’t feel like he was falling. But without sight he couldn’t be sure. And then the noise started. It was a horrible buzzing noise that was just at the end of his hearing range. His ears were ringing within seconds. After a few minutes it started to become painful. He thought he’d lose his hearing at the rate things were going. But the buzzing ended after what felt like an eternity, and something much much worse took its place. 

He could hear everything. The animals in the distance, cows mooing, wolfs barking, and sheep baaing. He could hear the wind in the leaves, the sound of things walking over the grass and dirt, and worst of all, he could hear Jellie. Jellie who walked in circles, back and forth, back and forth meowing sadly at where he probably was. Then that would fade and the buzzing would return.

It felt like an eternity. That he was stuck there. In pitch black darkness. Unable to move or even scream. Just the sound of his ears ringing or the world he had vanished from around him. He didn’t even hear Cub or Xisuma arrive, the ringing in his ears too loud to even think. One second he had been trapped in stasis. Cold, alone, and terrified, and the next he was on the ground. Cub reaching out to him. As the ringing in his ears faded out, and Cub’s voice started to flow in, there was a voice from what felt like everywhere, the universe itself, “I sᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ”

There’s a heavy silence as he finishes his story. He’s only grounded in reality by Jellie’s soft purrs against his chest and Cub’s hand on his shoulder. Anything that would’ve been said though is quickly pushed aside when theres a soft groan from behind him. He shifts and sees Grian’s eyes blink open. 

However, no one even gets a word out before Grian’s eyes fly open and Scar can see the panic in them. Before he can even speak Grian has already thrown his hands out and the strange wisps of purple magic that had been in the air around him while he slept gather in his palms and pulse outwards. 

He doesn’t even have time to react as he’s thrown from his feet. It’s only years of stumbling while holding Jellie that he manages to maneuver so he falls backwards instead of forward onto Jellie. The breath in his lungs is knocked out as he hits the ground hard. Jellie jolts awake and meows loudly. Across from him he sees Mumbo, who landed less gracefully, face down and was slowly sitting up rubbing his head. In a cascade effect they have all seemed to have been knocked over. Those like him and Mumbo, closest to Grian, had fallen over completely, while those like False, across the room, only seemed started by the pulse of magic. 

He feels different when he starts to come to. Someone nearby is talking but he can’t understand what they’re saying. What he does understand is the magic in the air around him. It’s mad at him for forgetting about it for so long. It seems to dance in the air around him agitated about something. Its trying to talk to him but he doesn’t remember how to speak that language. He can feel it around him though. He tries to listen to it but he can’t really quiet get it. Blearily he tries to open his eyes. He can make out vague shapes in front of him and in his half awake state he can clearly see the magic that’s dancing around him. Then like he’s known the language his entire life, he can hear what the magic has been trying to tell him. In an urgency he can only recall fear from it calls to him, “wake up”

Maybe its the confusion, the abundant magic, forgotten things he can only recall echoes of, but something in his gut is terrified. And without even thinking about it, he sends the magic around him pulsing outwards. 

The loss of energy that comes from it brings him back to his senses as he hears several grunts and yelps as people fall over around him. Truly opening his eyes this time he finds himself sitting in a room full of his fellow hermits, most of which are on the ground in some form due to the magic that just bowled them over like sticks. 

“Uh… hi?” he greets awkwardly, not really knowing whats going on. He wants to say more but his and every other hermit’s communicators ding simultaneously, the way the only do when someones died. Pushing down the chilling fear that still has yet to release its grip on him, he pulls out his communicator only to be hit with a awful sense of deja vu. 

iJevin was finished off by Biffa2001 using [¡!フㄣㄣĿㄣㄣ:フリ]