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prismartist · 2 years

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dreams become reality

inspired by @theminecraftbee's post :DDD

Ao3

---

The first dream happens sometime in the middle of June.

Tango barely remembers it, honestly. All he remembers is finding himself in a dark void. Or, not void—it was just dark. There was something there, some sort of scenery surrounding him, but he couldn’t see it, just blurry shapes and edges. The only reason he’s sure it was a solid place at all was the strange innate knowledge dreams often supplied.

And in that same dream knowledge, Tango knew that he wasn’t alone.

The other presence was much clearer, though still blurry. Tango couldn’t really make out the face amongst the dream fog, but he could see that they were wearing a cowboy outfit, hat and all. The badge on their vest glimmered against the darkness, though there should be no light to reflect off it.

They had greeted each other awkwardly, then stood there, almost waiting. Usually dreams have their own plots that drag you along in it, at least in Tango’s experience, but this one seemed to have no plan at all. It just dropped Tango in an indecipherable place with some cowboy.

So, they had started talking. Again, the details are fuzzy, but Tango remembers giving his name, and the stranger giving the title “The Sheriff” in return. They told the other where they were from, and passed the time serenely until they woke up.

The dreams are few and far between at first, about once every week, but mid-July hits, and suddenly they’re happening every couple of days. Tango had noticed the dreams were longer as well, as if they were allowed more time.

He didn’t really mind. The Sheriff was a… comforting presence. Which might be weird to say about some guy you’ve only met in an unconscious state, but despite that, there was something about the guy’s grin, his blonde hair, the way he held himself and laughed, that drew something familiar from Tango, something that surfaced to the tip of his tongue, but refused to make itself really known. He was drawn in, strangely determined to learn about this new companion.

So, he listened to the Sheriff, paid attention as he talked about himself and his world. Well, first of all, the Sheriff has a world. He’s not a strange character Tango’s stress-addled brain has worked up. At least, Tango thinks so—it’s a weird amount of detail to put in otherwise.

Apparently the Sheriff lives in a server with other rulers, people hoping to create their own empires. The Sheriff’s empire (Tango thinks it’s a bit too early to be calling it that, but whatever) is called Tumble Town, a rustic community relying on the mines of the mesa they reside in, as well as gunpowder for artillery. Tango told him it sounds very Middlewestern, and the Sheriff said it was what he was going for, despite not really knowing what it is. The Sheriff had lamented his troubles trying to set up a creeper farm, and at this Tango lit up, and eagerly shared some tips with him to make one efficiently. He explained it best he can, simplifying when the Sheriff asked. He listened intently and nodded with furrowed brow, and Tango’s not sure why he wanted to help this stranger so bad, but there he was.

Tango shared his own stories living in Hermitcraft, talking about the newly-elected king and various shenanigans. He rambled about the plans for his projects and Decked Out 2.0, detailing the technicalities until the Sheriff’s brain started to hurt, and Tango laughed. Still the Sheriff gasped and commended his work, seemingly amazed at every little detail, and Tango felt a warmth in his chest as he preened.

This Sheriff, whoever he is, is really nice.

---

“Uhhhhh.”

Tango gapes at the large sheen of purple something snaking up the wall of the cavern he’s stumbled into. He barely notices Grian standing right in front of it, illuminated by the ethereal glow, staring at him with wide eyes behind goggles. He is frozen in a forward step, holding a duffel bag.

“Hi Tango,” Grian greets with a strained calm. His voice stretches out to a higher pitch, “What brings you here?”

“I was just coming by to say hi.” Tango cocks his head. “But it looks like you’re currently preoccupied.”

“Well I- yeah I was, in fact.”

“Were you about to go into that…” Tango gestures at the innocuous rip in time and space, shooting Grian a weird look, “…weird, giant, paranormal thing?”

“I have no clue what gave you that idea.”

“You’re literally about to step into it. And you’re carrying a travel bag.”

Grian takes a step back, tilts his head up, and promptly slaps a hand over his eyes in frustration.

“Okay, yes,” he finally sighs out, dropping his hand and facing Tango. “I was about to go into the weird giant paranormal thing. I’d like you to know it’s called ‘The Rift’, though. I don’t want to be rude to it.”

“Uh huh.” Tango raises an eyebrow and chuckles nervously, but decides not to question it. He isn’t an idiot, he knows just as well as anyone how finicky the supernatural can be. “May I ask why you’re stepping into the weird- the Rift?”

“I’m visiting some friends in another world.” Grian adjusts the strap of his bag, as if to prove a point. “It’s a rather new one—think I explained it to you before.”

Grian had, in fact, explained it to Tango before. Something about how people don’t remember their lives in other worlds, and the only people who do are the admins of said worlds, plus a mention of how a person can exist in two worlds at once, usually by swapping their conscious states between bodies while asleep in one world and how time dilation doesn’t restrict one to a sleep cycle and how leftovers of memories can linger in bodies outside of worlds due to being occupied by the same soul and how in some cases two bodies of the same person can be awake at the same time and-

Honestly even for Tango it was one hell of a headache, so the specifics are lost on him, but he had gotten the general gist.

“Yeah, I remember.”

Tango’s brain seems to focus on the part about unconscious states, and is faintly reminded of his recent dreams.

So he asks, “Can I go with you?”

Grian startles, the goggles on his face jostling. “Uh- wha? You want to come with me?”

“Yeah sure, I’ll tag along.” Tango shrugs. “Seems like it would be fun.”

Grian squints, considering it for a minute, before shrugging as well. “Okay, yeah, sure. Can’t see why not. You might uh, get dizzy, though, this isn’t your average portal.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know I have a very solid disposition,” Tango says as he strides over next to Grian, who only smiles amusingly at him. It’s a little unnerving, to be honest—it’s a sort of smile that indicates he knows more than Tango does. Much more.

“Sure,” Grian says, and produces an extra pair of goggles.

“What are these for?”

“It’s easier to lose an eye than you might realize.”

“Huh?”

“You ready to go now?”

Tango straps on the goggles. “I- I guess, but exactly how easy is it to-”

“We’re going in boys!”

Grian grabs his hand with a too-wide grin, and with an inhuman screech, Tango is dragged into the Rift.

---

The sunlight is such a jarring juxtaposition to the dim glow of the Rift that Tango spends a good couple of seconds squinting and blinking fiercely. Besides him, he can hear Grian giggling to himself. The gremlin.

As he tries to adjust, the shock of the sun starts to dissipate, and Tango is made fiercely aware of the growing headache and the tumbling in his stomach. He doubles over, groaning and breathing heavily, and Grian stops his giggling and rubs his back in sympathy.

“What the heck,” Tango moans, “that was so quick and yet I feel like crap.”

“Most people don’t remember the actual journey,” Grian says. “It’s too complex for mortals’ brains, or something. Just breathe in.”

Tango does, letting the fresh air clear his head. The smell of grass is thick, and as Tango looks up, he understands why—they’re in a plains biome, dense with green grass that rolls over the horizon. Tango notices that he and Grian are seated on cut logs, two of twelve placed in a circle around a campfire. It looks like a meeting place, or a hangout. Either way, it’s clear that they’re in the spawn of this unfamiliar world.

“You okay?”

“Much better, yeah.”

“Good to fly?”

Tango takes in one more breath, assessing himself. “Yeah, I should be. Might do me some good anyways.”

“Great, then we better get going.” Grian stands up, his wings flaring out behind him. Tango follows suit and activates his elytra, giving it a flap to make sure it’s properly responsive. Who knows, maybe the Rift messed it up. Luckily, that doesn’t seem to be the case, and they easily meet Grian’s wings, the breadth of them extending behind Tango like a comforting shade. Grian checks his communicator. “Oh nice, Fwhip and Timmy are on. I think we’ll visit Tim first, he’s just Southwest.”

“Ooh, I don’t think I’ve met him.”

Grian looks at Tango, their eyes meeting, and Tango is once again hit with the feeling that Grian knows something that he doesn’t. The impression doesn’t linger in his smile though; this time, it’s in Grian’s eyes, something deep and melancholic. It’s much, much more unnerving.

“Oh yeah,” Grian hollowly agrees, “I don’t think you have.”

---

“So,” Tango says above the whistling of the wind, “do the people here remember being your friend?”

“Eh, not really.”

“Then how come you visit them?”

“They just kinda…” Grian wrinkles his nose, “...believe me?”

There’s a pause.

“So you’re basically gaslighting them?!”

“It’s not gaslighting if it’s true!”

“Okay, sure, but are you telling me that you go up to these guys, say ‘Oh hey, we know each other in another world, we’re totally besties’ and they believe you??”

“It’s not like that! It’s- gah, hold on.” Grian sputters. “They- everyone has leftovers, okay? Leftovers of memories from other worlds. It just kind of manifests as a gut instinct, and since most people are aware of the whole multiverse jam, they kinda connect the dots from there. Besides, it’s not like I just walk up to them and call them bestie ,” Grian scoffs, “I’m much more classy than that.”

Tango rolls his eyes fondly, but something about Grian’s words stick to him for the rest of the journey.

Eventually the plains give way to red sand and beautiful smooth hills, painted sunset colours and majestically rising above the rest of the land. Grian swoops down into a bowl-shaped dip in the ground, maybe a couple hundred metres deep, and Tango follows, enamoured by the view. There’s a mine entrance and a couple of rustic buildings, most prominently a community hall, and a very simple creeper farm, and—

Wait a minute.

Tango’s feet hit the ground and he stumbles, almost faceplanting into it. The kicked-up dust invades his senses for a bit, making him yelp and cough. Eventually he regains his balance and straightens, redirects his attention to the view. Grian casts him a curious look, but Tango doesn’t really notice.

Mesa. Mines. Rustic. Midwestern. Creeper farm.

“Hey, Grian,” Tango starts, still taking in the unfinished town, “what did you say this guy’s name was again?”

“Well, his real name is Jimmy, but I and a few others call him Timmy.”

“Uh huh. And what’s his title here?”

“The-”

“Hello Grian!” a new voice calls out.

No, scratch that. That’s a very, very familiar voice.

Tango whips around to see a man, dressed in a cowboy outfit, hat and all, with blonde hair, a sheriff’s badge, and a smile that Tango just barely knows.

“Heya Timmy.” Grian walks up to him with a smile, motioning for Tango to follow. “I see you’ve added a couple builds.”

“Heck yeah dude, I’ve been busy.” Jimmy turns to Tango, and something in his gaze turns almost calculating. “And you’ve brought a friend!”

“Oh yeah, allow me, Timmy—” Grian gestures, “—this is Tango.”

“Thanks, Gri, but…” Tango tilts his head, feeling a grin come upon him, “I don’t think we need an introduction.”

Jimmy’s eyes widen, and for the first time, in the clarity of the real world, Tango notices they’re blue.

“Oh. My gosh,” Jimmy mutters, and points at Tango. “You’re- oh my gosh, no way!”

Grian’s eyes flick back and forth between them, confused. “Wait, what? Do you guys remember?”

“I guess you could say that, yeah.” Tango grins at Grian’s astonished face.

“Yeah, you’re the man of my dreams! Or- or from my dreams, rather, sorry.” Jimmy flushes and rubs the back of his neck. “Slip of the tongue. But yeah, you’re the one I’ve been talking to, right?”

The excitement from Jimmy is infectious; Tango feels something warm bloom in his chest. “Yeah yeah yeah, totally!”

“I really feel like I’m missing some context here,” Grian weakly interjects.

“Grian—” Jimmy turns to Grian and starts explaining rapid-fire to the poor man, “—listen, right, this is insane, for the past month or so I’ve been having these dreams, in a sort of very dark place, and in these kind of dreams there was always someone there that I’ve been chatting to, and that man—” he gestures fiercely to Tango, “—is this man! Tango! It’s so nice to meet you!”

“It’s great to meet you too, man.” Tango chuckles.

Grian doesn’t seem intent on joining in the celebrations at all. Instead, his confusion has morphed into concentration, as if trying to put together the pieces of a puzzle.

“Uhm, Grian? You good there bud?” Jimmy asks.

“You visit each other in your dreams?” Grian simply asks back.

“Uh, yeah,” Tango answers. “I get that it’s a little weird, but-”

“No, no, that’s the thing. It’s not that weird.” Grian barks out a small laugh of disbelief. “In fact, it makes total sense.”

“What?” Jimmy furrows his brows. “How?”

Grian opens his mouth, then shuts it and shakes his head. “I can’t explain everything to you because then we’ll be here all day otherwise. But… you two knew each other, in a world that I admined. In fact…” Grian smiles, a faraway look in his eyes. “You guys were soulmates.”

Jimmy and Tango stare at him, and Grian laughs at the looks on their faces. “Sorry, sorry, I shouldn’t have sprung that on you, but that’s the truth. It’s probably why you guys are still somehow connected. You’re just still somehow… soulbound.”

“That’s a little awkward,” Tango says, and Grian laughs again.

“But still kinda cool.” Tango looks to see Jimmy staring at him with wide eyes, as if seeing him for the first time. Well, in a way, they were. “We like, know each other without knowing each other.”

Tango smiles. “I guess that is pretty cool. We just found each other again.”

Jimmy beams, and without the dream fog, it seems as bright as the sun. He sticks out a hand for Tango to take. In a faux-Southern accent, he says, “Well, it’s nice meeting ya again, soul-pardner.” He giggles.

Tango takes his hand without hesitation. “And you too."

---

The sun is setting, and Tango and Jimmy sit precariously on the edge of the bowl, enjoying the view. Grian had since flown off after a brief chat, saying he was going to find Fwhip and gather some resources that Hermitcraft hadn’t yet gained access to. So it’s Tango and Jimmy alone, trying to learn more about each other and what they remember. Which isn’t much, but it’s always worth a try, in Tango’s opinion.

Jimmy draws lazy circles in the sand next to him as Tango watches. “I get other dreams about you sometimes,” he says.

“Really?”

“Yep. Although sometimes you don’t look like, uhm, you. Sometimes you look like the ruler of Chromia, and we’re in a different place entirely.”

“What does this Chromium guy look like?”

Jimmy laughs. “Chromia. He has uhm, light blue hair and a Scottish accent. Wears bright clothes too.”

Tango squints. “Have you considered that that may just be a different guy entirely?”

Jimmy pauses as he considers. “Uhm… yeah actually, that might make sense.”

Tango laughs.

“ Anyways , uhm-” Jimmy laughs too, then continues, “I do have other dreams about you, dreams where we’re not talking in the dark place, but I’m still with you. They’re fuzzier, though, and I don’t really remember them afterwards. I think they might be memories of the other world Grian was talking about.“

Tango leans in almost subconsciously, curiosity overtaking him. “What were they like?”

“Well…” Jimmy tilts his head slightly as he recalls. “What I can remember is, we were in a ranch, and we were dressed like cowboys—isn’t that a funny coincidence?” Jimmy gestures to his fit with a grin.

Tango smiles back. “Well, I think we know now it’s not that much of a coincidence.”

“True, true. And uh, we had horses, and a lot of cows, and a lot of chickens.”

“That’s good. That means we were a good ranch.”

“Yeah! Though I remember arguing as well.” Jimmy frowns. “Not with each other, but with others. I think we fought people a lot. And- and died, a lot. I don’t think that was a completely happy time.”

“Oh.” Tango deflates.

Jimmy looks at Tango. “It wasn’t all bad though,” he says with a gentle tone. “I mean, we had each other. I remember being happy with you.”

Tango softens at that, the sun’s final rays seeming to grow warmer on his skin. “ Oh. ”

“Yeah. But, uhm, what do you remember?”

Tango thinks, long and hard. What he has are mere flashes of images. There’s the ranch, the animals, the fighting between faces both familiar and not, and…

“I remember fire,” Tango mumbles. “Lots of fire.” He looks down, the platform of the mines far below. “I mean, it fits in with what you said, about it not being a happy time.”

Jimmy nods, and rubs Tango’s back. Tango leans into it, feeling a strong sense of deja vu.

“It’s a little frustrating,” Tango mutters, and he sees Jimmy startle.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we know each other, and we know we knew each other, but…” Tango sighs, looking up at the rapidly darkening sky. Already the warmth has started to dissipate, and the night’s cool was taking over. “It’s like having something riiiight on the tip of your tongue, but you can never quite remember it no matter how much you try. Like, it’s just out of reach, you know? And maybe if you were a millimetre taller you’d reach it but, nope, you’re just forced to stare at it from a distance, never really… knowing. ” He looks over at Jimmy, who was listening intently. “You know what I mean? I wish we could remember. You’re a stranger to me, but that feels wrong. ”

“I do. I do know what you mean.” Jimmy glances down. “It would be lovely, if we had more context, I guess. But then again…” He looks to Tango with a musing look in his eyes. “With what we do remember, this is probably a better way to go about it. Like a, uhm… a restart. A second chance. It’s nice, right? To hang out again in a more peaceful time and place?”

Tango soaks in the dry breeze, the smell of heat making way to the night’s piercing cold as the stars come out. He soaks in Jimmy beside him, still somehow glowing, more so now that the sun has retreated. They’re learning more and more about each other, but at the same time, Tango feels like they have nothing to learn at all. If anything, it’s merely rediscovering.

“It is nice.”

Jimmy removes his hand from Tango’s back and lays it on his lap. Tango stares at it, thinks for a moment, then reaches out, then pauses. He starts to take it back, then changes his mind once, twice, while Jimmy looks on with bewildered amusement.

“Do you mind if I-” Tango gestures very vaguely around Jimmy’s hand. His cheeks are growing warm with embarrassment. “I dunno, I just thought it might be nice to-”

Jimmy sighs, and gently grabs Tango’s hand, interlocking their fingers as he sets it on his lap. It feels like a perfect fit. The warmth shared is comforting in the cold.

“I’m glad I can get to be with you again.” Jimmy says, sincere and soft and bright and here. “I’ve missed you.”

(Man, this is Tango’s soulmate? He must’ve struck gold.)

Tango gently leans against him, as if trying to soak in all of Jimmy’s presence. Jimmy leans back, a perfect equilibrium, and Tango feels their hearts beating in sync.

“I’ve missed you too.”

#mcyt #rancher duo #tangotek #jimmy solidarity #double life smp #doublelifesmp #dlsmp #empires smp #empires smp s2 #empsmp2 #double life fanfiction #double life fanfic #prismatic writing

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