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#falsesymmetry
arekayic · 3 days
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they’re so little… hermitito 🤏
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yawningawning · 2 days
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false symetryy...
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nightraiderwrites · 24 hours
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The Implications of an Unlocked Door
The nature of dreams.
Tws: unreality, explicit descriptions of violence -.-.-
The dream starts on a train. 
It’s one of the trains that are used for local transportation; rides across a city or a town. The people who ride it are ordinary. Students, yawning off a night of study. Office workers, struggling to stay awake, balancing a coffee in hand. Old men, on their way to the gambling hole. Women on their way to the market.
To you, there is a crowd in a train, and this is a perfectly normal dream. Slowly, you take it in. The train moves over a bridge, and the sun rises out the window. Someone has spilled coffee on the floor. You can smell it. The seats are old.
The train rolls into a dark tunnel. Overhead, lights flicker on weakly, washing the compartment in dim white light.
This is, you think, a nice dream. A different world, a different time, where things are normal.
It’s in a split second of darkness when you see him. As the lights flicker, throwing the train car in pitch black, you see his eyes. Deep, ominous red.
You shudder involuntarily. This is a dream, you remind yourself. He cannot hurt you here. You are safe.
The tips of his hair are blue. There are deep bags under his eyes. His hands are hidden.
This is a dream, you remind yourself. You do not know how you know it is a dream, but it must be.
The train rumbles on. Above, the automated voice announces the next stop.
“I love you,” he says, voice thick and raspy, and then you know it is a dream because he had never told you that and you know he would never say it.
“I love you,” he says again, and you hang on every word like it’s the last thing you’ll ever hear.
You had forgotten, the cadence of his voice. He did not speak for so long, and the first thing you forget about a person is the sound of their voice.
You take a step closer. He takes a step back.
The train slides out of the tunnel, the morning light flooding into the carriage. You blink at the sudden light, and he’s gone.
~
The dream starts in the plains.
Morning dew soaks the knees of your pants as your hands grip his throat. He isn’t doing anything to stop you. Why isn’t he doing anything? Why isn’t he crying out?
Blood is splattered over your arms. It stains the white of your shirt, and you press deeper, your wait digging into his chest. He reaches weakly for your wrist. Darkness creeps over your vision.
It’s taking so long for him to die, you note impatiently. You should just snap his neck. 
Tap. Tap. Tap. 
You exhale.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
His face is turning blue. Ice starts forming around you, solidifying the dew on the grass. It spreads around you, driving away everyone else, but not you. No, the ice never touches you.
He loves you. You love him too much to let the tender bones give way beneath your hands.
There is no world in which you kill him.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
His mouth moves. “Fal-”
Morning dew soaks into the back of your white shirt as his hands grip your throat.
You understand now, why he didn’t struggle. His weight presses into your chest, and you feel your ribs crack, a little.
The thing about being choked is that you can feel everything. There is air that does not enter your lungs and there are knees pinning your wrists to the floor. Wet dew seeps into your clothes. There is no more blood on your hands.
He’ll snap your neck. Any moment now, and he’ll do it.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Your hands move on instinct. Your wrists are pinned with his knees, yes, but your fingers can still touch his legs.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
You love him. He still kills you.
~
The dream starts in front of a glowing purple portal.
Lizzie stands in front of you. “Alright,” she says. It’s obvious to you that she’s a cat wearing a mask, but maybe you shouldn’t point that out. “We’ve got a weird magic portal, so obviously the most logical thing to do is go through.” 
Everyone nods, like this is a perfectly normal thing to do. You think it’s insane, but no one else disagrees.
Katherine and Shelby lock hands. They share a kiss before stepping through the swirling magic portal. You watch as Joel hugs Lizzie and kisses Sausage carefully before jumping in as well. 
You’re the last to enter. You watch as Pix and Jimmy and all the others go through and your heart aches. 
Something tugs at you as you are about to step through; a hand, maybe, someone with hands the same size as yours, and familiar enough to grasp your own like nothing else matters.
Don’t go, the person begs, because you are sure it is someone now. If you go, you’ll be changed forever. 
There is nothing more terrifying than change. You had woken up in this world with bleeding wings and half empty memories, and the world has done nothing but change.
The portal hums, almost menacingly. Change is scary. You don’t want to change. You want to stay exactly the same, because if you change, you’ll never know who you are. You’ll never know who you were. You’ll never know who you could be.
So you don’t go through. No one will notice if you don’t, so you stay. You shake your head and turn away from the glowing portal, boots heavy on the unsteady wooden platform.
You step. Left foot, right foot, feeling like you have been unmoored.
The platform isn’t built well. There is no one to catch you when your foot goes through the splintered plank and submerges you into the river.
~
The dream starts with your hand resting over a familiar door knob.
You hesitate. It’s night time. When you walk in, you know that Tango will be waiting on the couch, and Pearl will be upstairs, Pix will be in his room or out in his swamp base, and Gem will be…
Gem will be gone.
You turn the handle. “Hey, Tango,” you say. No one replies.
The lights are on, but the house is empty. There is no one home. 
Fire crackles, casting a soft glow over the wooden flooring. Four pairs of shoes are lined up where you left yours. There are no dishes in the sink.
You climb the rafters. The paper eagle- the one from god -is gone. Your shelf is bare, the satchel you had brought to this world, your spare knives and the threadbare blanket that you had folded this morning are all gone.
Gracefully, you tip backwards and fall silently to the floor. The house is quiet, deathly still, almost as if it's holding in a breath. You don’t like that. Dead houses don’t breathe.
You climb the stairs, struggling to find your way in the dark. There’s never really a reason for you to come here, other than calling Pearl to dinner or dragging Pix to bed, so the beautifully carved handrail feels unfamiliar in your grasp.
It’s cold. Despite the fire you know was running in the living room, chill clings to your fingers and your breath fogs your vision.
There is no way it should be this cold. The stairs are slippery with ice and frost covers your sleeves. Your movements are stiff as you step, joints creaking and squeaking. But you’re so close.
The landing is two or three steps away. Surely you can make that. How long have you been walking up for? It’s impossibly close.
Squeeze your eyes tight. Squeeze them so hard you feel a hot tear streak down your cheek and turn to ice. This house is not your prison. This house is not your home. This house is not your love.
When you open your eyes, you are on the landing. The cold is gone. It is no longer dark.
Sunlight fills the hallway. Golden light falls through the window, lighting your path to the room at the very end of the hall.
You have a feeling about who is waiting. You missed her so much.
At first, your steps are slow as you feel your feet on the hardwood below. In your lungs, it’s like breathing sunlight. The air is like honey.
But you can’t take it anymore. You break into a sprint, cheeks hurting from how wide you’re grinning. You shouldn’t let yourself hope it’s her, but you can’t help it.
The corridor shortens, and you stop, breathless. A sun is carved into the door, and the soft morning light makes the rays glow. This has to be a sign, right? It’s her. It’s her. It’s her.
God, why are you hoping? It never goes your way. Everything you hope for never happens. People betray you, they leave you or you leave them. Nothing you hope for ever happens.
Still. You really hope it's her.
Your hand hovers over the familiar door knob.
Take a breath. Breathe in. Breathe out. It’s only opening a door.
It’s only a small change.
You grasp the knob and turn. It opens, easily, as if it was made to be opened. As if it was made to be changed.
The first thing you notice when you walk into the room is the light. Every nook and cranny is filled, and you can see everything. From the shrine of candles on a table to a small bed tucked in the corner of the room, everything is… gold.
She’s leaning against the windowsill, eyes closed with a smile curling on the edge of her lips. Her hands are folded in front of her, and her crown shines gold. Soft breaths rise and fall in her chest.
You don't… remember her ever looking so content. There was always sadness or stress or a glance at the future creasing her brow or pulling her mouth into a frown. She had always been burdened with destiny, and you had never been strong enough to lift it.
As you stop in the doorway, she opens her eyes and turns to you. They’re green, with little hints of purple. It makes you pause, unnerved.
“False,” she says. She opens her arms, wide. It’s been so long. 
You can’t take it anymore. No more waiting. No more looking over your shoulder a missing presence. No more cold.
You crash into her, buying your head on her shoulder. “I missed you,” you mumble. You sniffle. It really has been so long.
Gem strokes your hair. “I know,” she says. “But you’ve been so brave. I’ve been gone, but you’ve been so brave.”
Tears start welling up in your eyes. “I don’t want to be brave anymore,” you sob. They streak down, hot and fast. “I don’t want to be alone.”
Her hand stills. You cling to her like you’ll drown if you let go. “I’m sorry you have to go through this,” Gem murmurs. It’s strange. It’s almost like she’s apologizing for leaving you alone. You start to panic.
You pull away, breathing hard. “Gem,” you say, shaky. The world feels unsteady under your feet. Nothing is golden anymore. “Are you leaving again?”
The sunlight drips away. From the bed to the candles to the door, flashing the sun at you the color bleaches, fading away. Even the color on that gets sucked in towards the center. Gem’s room pales in comparison to her, and she herself grows in color, vibrancy bursting from her figure.
Your hands are still on her shoulders. It burns.
“Gem,” you repeat, desperate. She keeps leaving. Nothing good ever lasts. You should know this by now. “Gem.”
The room is faded, like a toy left in the sun too long. All the color has been sucked dry, and Gem is the radiant sun.
She’s still smiling softly at you. You hate it. No, that can’t be right. You could never hate Gem. But how can she be standing there, smiling…?
“False,” she says. “My knight. My loyal soldier. But most importantly, my friend.” Your chest is heaving, and you cannot let her go. “You are a good sword,” Gem tells you. Her eyes flash - purple, gold, green, gold - but she smiles, carefree. “You are a good sword,” she repeats, “but you are an even greater friend. Don’t forget that, okay?”
It hurts to look at Gem. You want to shield your eyes, look away, protect yourself, but you’ve never been good at caring for yourself. She is your blazing sun, and you are a helpless little dog.
“Don’t go,” you beg. She takes your hands off her shoulders and holds them tight. It burns. “I don’t want to be alone.”
“Oh False,” Gem says. The color in her eyes finally settle into a deep purple hue. Wings like the rays of the sun emerge from her back, and her robes flow like the ocean. Her crown glitters gold. A wry grin plays on her lips. “Don’t worry.” You can hear her heartbeat, like thunder.
It’s terrible.
“I’ll always be Watching.”
~
The dream starts on a train.
The sun sets over the horizon, throwing the city in front of it into a midnight silhouette. You sit in one of the seats. There is no one else in the carriage.
Someone had spilled coffee on the floor. Brown stains the grimy carriage floor, glistening wetly in the dying light. The seats are old.
You sit in one, observing the sun set. A soft orange glow makes everything feel warm. Unsteady. Unreal.
Your teeth rattle as the train rumbles on. In your chest, you feel your heart; ka-thud, ka-thud, ka-thud, assuring yourself that you are still alive.
Where is this train heading? You don’t know. All you know is the tracks seem to stretch forever, into eternity.
There are things to ponder. Your purpose, for example. If there is no one around, if there is no one to dedicate your life to, what are you even here for? Did you ever matter? 
Maybe. Maybe you mattered. More likely you didn’t.
Who cares, anyway? You?
Sometimes, thoughts are not there to be listened to.
The train heads into a tunnel. The lights remain off, throwing the carriage into total darkness.
When you come out the other side, he appears on the other side of the seats, facing you. His face is clean. His hair is yellow. There are no bags under his eyes.
“Hello,” you say. Swallow. “How have you been?”
He stares. “Oh,” he replies. “Good.”
The silence stretches between you. What are you supposed to say? What is he supposed to say? There is nothing that can be said.
“I haven’t forgiven you,” you say. Curl your fingers into a fist. Your nails dig into your palm. A lie. “I haven’t forgiven you.”
Across the carriage, his lips curl into a smile. Do you remember the last time he smiled?
“I know,” he tells you, but you know he knows it’s a lie. Everyone always says you suck at lying. “You’ve been very brave.”
Now he’s echoing Gem’s words. Gem left, so is he leaving too? You force the tears and the panic down, and shove them into a little locked chest inside your heart.
You close your eyes, leaning sideways. Your head lands on his shoulder. His breaths, steady and deep, are a soothing rhythm. He grasps your hand.
“Can you stay, this time?” you ask quietly. 
His breath hitches. “Okay,” he says. 
The train rumbles on.
~
So the implications of an unlocked door is this: it is just a door until you try and open it. Then, it gains either the adjective “locked” or “unlocked”. This means if you describe the door as “unlocked” you have changed it in a fundamental way so as the door is not just a door, but a door that you have interacted with and changed.
Therefore, the implication of an unlocked door is that a person existed to unlock it. A person has existed to change the door in a way that allows for further expansion and development. The door would have remained a door even if no one had bothered to try and open it.
Nevertheless, the sheer fact that someone opened the door showed they care about it. The door cares about the person too. It stands strong and guards the house. It unlocks for the person, allowing them to enter the home and rest.
A door is just a door until you try and open it. At the same time, a life is just a life until someone else enters it.
-.-.-.-
Hi :)
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vowofbrotherhood · 22 hours
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assorted mcyt sketches
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bumble-bots · 2 days
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The hermit permit office!
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gee-arid · 24 hours
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Sooo I made a design for every hermit- and some others- but didnt end up finishing all of them cus i lost motivation. I will be posting the completed Hermits individually in small groups over the next few err weeks?
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Here are the sketches of the hermits i missed 😔 I am sorry for left to right: Impulse, False, Ren, XB, Keralis, and Beef...
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Katherine: Can we all get back to work and stop talking about wedding dresses?
False: No. We’re gonna talk about them, because while wearing a wedding dress, you leapt over a couch, sprinted down an alley, and jumped off a car to subdue someone like you were Wonder Woman.
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b1odeuwed · 1 day
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falsey in the next life series . Like to charge/Reblog to cast
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kiwiiimiwiiiii · 3 days
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I totally didn't spend about 1-2 hours calculating through every hermits episode lengths
but I do mysteriously happen to have all that data on hand now.. [26th of March, 2024]
the hermit with the most minutes of episodes out there is:
Docm77 - 10hrs 20mins
followed by
Iskall - 8hrs 59mins
xB - 8hrs 12mins
so far we have the least minutes of...
ZombieCleo - 2hrs 36mins
The longest episode by far is by:
Docm77 - 2hrs 56mins 8secs
And the shortest by:
False - 16mins 16secs
Xisuma gets an extra mention for having the most episodes out right now (22 ep.) that are all a consistent 20mins long!
With Xisuma in the lead of episode amount he is closely followed by:
Wels - 17 episodes
Iskall - 16 episodes
Ren - 14 episodes
Stress - 14 episodes
[this is by no way judging any hermit for their episode lengths or amounts! pure statistics for the fun of it.]
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ivys-garden · 2 days
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Tumblrs Most Wanted Lifer Poll: Round 22
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3d all star false? :]
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[ask game]
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+ lineart only
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nyan-draws-02 · 3 days
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My magnum opus at the moment
There was a stream weekend 3/16-3/17 of 2024 and I decided to draw all the hermits who streamed. This is posted on my main account and on my Twitter (@virologicnyan0)
Hermits that I know have Tumblr @joehills @falsesymmetry @geminitayyt (sorry for the ping you three)
App used is Krita, I don't own an art tablet so this was all done with a mouse
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yawningawning · 2 days
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bigbround eyes haver and long slim eyes that need brown contacts haver
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nickle-moth · 9 hours
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I spent 14 hours on this. Thats the longest I've ever spent on a drawing... but it was worth it!
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All the Empires smp season 2 members!
cropped close-ups under cut!
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Lizzie, Joel, Oli, Gem
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Pix, Jimmy, Kathrine, False, Shubble
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Sausage, Scott, Fwhip, Joey
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graphitesoda · 1 day
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False & Ren holding hands joining the next life series together promise
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Does anyone know how to fix this?
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I was trying to download this and I pressed cancel and now it is doing this. This happened with another download months ago and it still has the “downloading” bit but nothing ever happens.
I was so excited to play on this world
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