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moonbearmeliox · 3 years

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DSMP/Mianite Harry Potter AU: Backstory & Philosopher’s Stone

Masterlist

Events Before Philosopher's Stone

XD, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, is at large during the first Wizarding War. The Order of The Phoenix is trying it’s best to stop the threat(because the Ministry isn’t doing much). The original members included Phil, Jordan, Puffy, Tom, Tucker, Sonja, Eret’s dad(who dies during the War), Sally(Fundy’s mom, no connection to Wilbur, also dies), and three powerful wizard siblings: Mianite, Dianite, and Ianite.

As powerful as the three were, they were assigned guards just in case XD came for them.

Jordan was assigned to Ianite, Tom was assigned to Dianite, and Tucker and Sonja were assigned to Mianite.

And then the prophecy happens, that XD will only be defeated by the one who wields the Wand of Balance.

No one knew who wielded the wand of balance at the time...except for a few members of the Order

Now there was also the suspicion that there was a mole in the Order, and that was proven right when they got word that XD also knew about the prophecy.

So they have the three siblings separate to different parts of the country for fear that XD may come after them for the wand or knowledge of the wand. No one knows the locations of where any of the siblings are, except their guards who are with them, and Phil.

This is the night when everything happens.

First, Tom finds out that Dianite was the traitor, and hurriedly sends an owl to wherever Tucker and Sonja are, because owls always find their recipient. He also hurries back to the order

Second, Tucker and Sonja come upon Mianite, who was murdered by Dianite. In their pursuit, Dianite loudly proclaims in public that it was Tucker and Sonja who murdered Mianite and frames them for the murder of 13 muggles before faking his death and leaving behind a finger as evidence of death.

Third, Jordan and Ianite are ambushed and in a desperate attempt to save Jordan, Ianite sends Jordan...somewhere. Ianite dies shortly after the ambush.

Lastly, while all of this is going down, XD goes to the Maron household in hopes of getting information out of Jordan about Ianite or the wand of balance.

Except Jordan isn’t there. XD is met with Puffy and a one year old Tubbo. XD and Puffy duel, resulting in Puffy being hit with a powerful curse that afterwards made her stay at St Mungo’s for over a year. She was left with half white, half brown hair and sheep horns.

It also made her unable to protect Tubbo when XD went to kill him.

Except the curse backfires, and rebounds on to XD, supposedly killing him and stripping him of his powers.

The word travels fast that XD was defeated by a 1 year old boy. They claim he is the chosen one since he defeated XD.

Tubbo Maron, The boy who lived.

The aftermath: Tucker and Sonja in Azkaban, Mianite and Ianite dead, Dianite is a traitor and supposedly dead, Puffy is hospitalized, and Jordan is missing.

After weeks of searching for Jordan and coming up empty, Phil decides to take in Tubbo and raise him with his wife Kristen, alongside his son, Wilbur.

Philosopher's Stone

Having grown up with Phil and Wilbur, Tubbo knows he’s a wizard very early on.

He also knows that the whole wizarding world thinks he’s the chosen one, with all the stares and whispers he gets when he goes out with Phil and Wilbur on occasions.

But every time Tubbo gets anxious about it, Phil always reassures him.

“Everyone thinks I’m some great wizard or that I will be when I get older. I don’t know if I can handle that kind of pressure, Phil.”

“Mate, don’t worry about what you think the entire world thinks about you. If you do, you’re gonna run yourself ragged. All that you should worry about is if you’re happy. And when you’re not, you’ll always have someone to talk to. And if you’re worried about being a great wizard, I know you have some of your dad’s traits. You’ll be great.”

Phil tried to keep Tubbo away from most of the “Chosen one bullshit” as he referred to it. He tried to give Tubbo a normal wizard life as much as possible. But he would tell Tubbo many stories about his dad and what he got up to at Hogwarts.

Phil did not tell Tubbo anything about the Order of the Phoenix or about most of the events that happened the night he got that scar. Just that XD came looking for Tubbo’s dad and when his dad wasn’t there, XD went to attack him and died. All Tubbo knows is that his dad was never seen after that night.

Speaking of Hogwarts, after seeing Wilbur go off to school for two years and having it just be him and Kristen in the house when Phil has headmaster duties, Tubbo finally got his acceptance letter to Hogwarts. Hand delivered by Phil of course.

Once books, robes, a wand, and an owl named Benson was acquired, Tubbo counted down the days till September 1st.

The day came and Kristen took the boys to Platform 9 and ¾ to board the Hogwarts Express. After an emotional goodbye, Wilbur and Tubbo boarded the train and Tubbo’s adventure began.

Tubbo bumps into a tall boy named Ranboo on the train and they find a compartment to ride together. It’s all nice and tranquil as they make small talk and get to know each other. Ranboo mentions he's a muggleborn and has memory problems. Tubbo's about to tell him his name when the compartment door is slammed open by a tall blonde boy.

“Hey bitch! Is this compartment taken?”

Tommy. The boy’s name is Tommy. Who took a seat no matter the answer.

“So, what’s your name?” “I’m Tubbo. Tubbo Maron”

*Que the exclamations of surprise and questions*

Word did travel that The Chosen One was on the train, and a boy named Purpled came into the compartment.

Purpled is self centered, telling Tubbo that he could keep better company with him.

Tubbo turns him down and Tommy loudly tells him to leave the compartment. Purpled does after Tommy's spider Shroud tries to bite him.

Anyway, the train soon arrives at Hogwarts and the first years are ushered across the lake and into the castle to get sorted.

Brought into the Great Hall by Professor Puffy, the sorting starts. Ranboo gets sorted into Hufflepuff, Tommy gets sorted into Gryffindor, Purpled gets sorted into Syltherin.

Then with a brief hesitation, Professor Puffy calls “Tubbo Maron”

The hall erupts into whispers as Tubbo steps up to the stool and the hat is placed on his head. After a few moments, the hat shouts Ravenclaw.

Tubbo goes to the table and after getting a thumbs up from Wilbur and a wave from Ranboo and Tommy, Tubbo is introduced to Eret, an older year Ravenclaw.

On to life at Hogwarts.

Purpled steals a student’s item during flying lessons and Tubbo tries to take it back on a broom. Professor Vikstar, who is the flying instructor and Head of Ravenclaw, sees this and puts Tubbo on the Quidditch team to play Seeker. Eret is the Captain of the team and is able to show Tubbo the ropes.

Purpled also challenges Tubbo to a duel. Tommy goes with him as his second and Ranboo comes to make sure they don't get in trouble but surprise! Purpled doesn't show and the trio, having to run away from the caretaker, stumble upon a giant three headed dog(which they later learn is named Fran from the Groundskeeper, Hbomb.)

Troll in the Dungeon! Professor Antfrost comes bursting into the Great Hall on Halloween, loudly proclaiming there is a troll in the dungeon before fainting.

Look at me and tell me Tommy wouldn’t want to go and see the troll.

Tubbo and Ranboo reluctantly tag along to make sure he doesn’t get hurt/in trouble. Cut to Tommy being held upside down by the troll and Tubbo knocking it out with it’s club.

Puffy, Phil and AntFrost come across them and instead of getting house points, they get detention.

Oh look Antfrost is injured, must have gotten that when he ran into the Troll.

The trio has to serve detention with H in the Forbidden Forest and since they were able to get the name of the dog out of H, why not ask him what it’s guarding.

He says he won’t say anything about it. “Whatever Fran is guarding is between Professor Watson and Nicholas Flammel…..I shouldn’t have said that.”

So now the trio are spending most of their free time researching about Flamel.

“Why can’t you just ask Professor Watson? Isn’t he like your dad or something ``

''He would know we’re looking at something we aren’t supposed to. And I don’t want to get in trouble again.”

Christmas comes around and Tubbo gets an invisibility cloak with a note saying it was his father's (Puffy gave it to him but Tubbo doesn't know that.)

Well now the whole school's open to explore and he can research about Flamel after dark.

He isn't quite about it though and when fleeing from the caretaker he ends in an empty classroom that has a mirror.

Except when he looks in it, he doesn't just see himself. He sees a man standing next to him. His father! He excitedly turns around but no one is there. Looking back at the mirror, he sees more people, including Professor Puffy standing right next to his dad.

It's easy enough for Tubbo to come to the conclusion that this mirror shows him his family, but he's curious why Puffy's there.

So of course he asks Puffy if she knew his dad. And she's a bit hesitant on her answer

"I know him. We, uh...we went to school together."

The answer doesn’t satisfy Tubbo but Puffy kicks him of her classroom out before he can ask more questions.

Tubbo keeps going back to the mirror every night till he is eventually met with Phil and Puffy in the room waiting for him.

Phil explains that the mirror is the mirror of Erised, it shows the person what he desires most. When Tubbo tells him that he sees his family in the mirror, Puffy tells him that Tubbo’s dad is her brother.

Tubbo wants to ask more questions, but Phill tells him the mirror will be moved and wants him to promise not to try and find it. Tubbo reluctantly agrees.

Eventually the trio find out that Nicolas Flamel was the creator of the Philosopher's Stone and that’s what Fran must be guarding. Tubbo also comes to the conclusion that Professor Antfrost is the one after the stone.

So the trio try to go see Phil to tell him but Puffy says he’s away on urgent business. And instead of waiting for Phil to come back(because by then it will be too late) they decide to go after Antfrost themselves.

Conquering room after room, Tommy is knocked unconscious by the chess set and Ranboo stays to make sure he’s ok. Upon the final room, Tubbo comes face to face with Antfrost.

But Antfrost is not alone, kinda, cuz he’s got XD on the back of his head. We already know the motives. He wants to stone for XD, Tubbo gets it from the mirror and Antfrost turns to dust in the end.

Phil nearly has a heart attack when he finds out what happens but all is good in the end and Tubbo’s first year at Hogwarts comes to a close.

Before Tubbo leaves, Puffy gives Tubbo a family album and plans to visit during the summer.

#dream smp #mianite #harry potter au #tubbo #captainsparklez for dreamsmp #wilbur soot #ranboo #tommyinit

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strifesolution · 4 years

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ask response + rambling abt mcyt, dont want ppl mistaking this as me disliking new age stuff so im putting it under the cut

i KNOW part of it is nostalgia blindness 100% honestly. i poke fun at dreamsmp’s popularity (despite now watching it myself and having a toe dipped in the fandom) out of??? jealous i guess? no other minecraft fandom was really like it, no matter how popular yogs/ah/mianite/team crafted got at their prime, none of them had the *fandom* culture it had. yogs had it special thing on tumblr, but it never reached cross platform. hermitcraft too, is still very popular, but hasn’t reached the same level dreamsmp has, and honestly, good! i really think it’s going to stick around *because* it’s not crazy popular.

but the amount of fanmade content is INSANE compared to any other mcyt fandom. it’s unsurprising with people in quarantine having the time to watch long livestreams and produce it, and the fact that twitter is the norm for that fandom... you get the idea. and it just makes me, deep down, sad yogs never got an animatic that got 10 million views.

but the THING ABOUT THIS IS i think that’s WHY it’s not the same! thinking back, im relieved old mcyt fandoms arent as main stream, god knows the alternate timeline where xephos getting confirmed gay trends on twitter. there was comfort (and still is) in them being small. even at its height the yogs fandom was condensed, ppl knew the names of most big fandom blogs, the drama wasnt often *between* fans, more between creators and fans, which is why the relation was distanced.

im jumping topics here without rly finishing them, but also, on canon stuff. one thing that i care a lot about with yogs is that... nothing and everything is canon? the “lore” we were given was so vague and randomly thrown out ppl could pick and choose what they wanted. i really still appreciate what rythian and zoey acknowledged when they released the blackrock plot, abt how the story is ours now. w/ a lot of dreamsmp lore, ive noticed, yeah, it’s cool that stuff becomes canon and lore is validated, but then someone’s headcanon they made is inconsistent with what’s made canon, and bc of fandom pressure, they can’t rly express that headcanon without backlash or at least ppl explaining why its not canon

with yogs, i can say “hey, i headcanon nano and parvis as siblings!” and no one cares! but with dreamsmp, if i say “hey i like (x) and (y) as siblings” someone might say “actually, canonically (x) is the sibling of (z)”

dont get me wrong, i HAVE seen plenty of people super chill about personal headcanons! this is more just how by making certain things canon and not canon, the series looses its “its minecraft nothing is canon or non-canon” uniqueness to it. ON YOUR SECOND POINT.

man. man. yeah. do you have any idea how bad i want server god dream lore on the smp??? that would fuck. something about the way the fandom characterizes admins is SO cool and im sad its just...not acknowledged on dreamsmp? same w other certain game mechanics, ppl getting kicked/banned, respawning, mechanics. remember how theres a lore explanation early blackrock about why modpacks change when servers change? THAT SHIT IS SO COOL.

for my own personal reasons its hard for me to consume certain ghostbur content, but the whole “3 lore deaths” is cool in concept! but the dark comedy implications of respawning will always be more fun to me. ya dead ya dead was such a fun idea of hardcore mode as well.

summery of this part: to some extent, old mcyt fandoms couldnt thrive without minecraft itself being popular, while dreamsmp just uses minecraft as its launching point

anyways, this is long and rambly and NOOOOOTTT consistent, but again, i like a lot of dreamsmp stuff, genuinely, but the general feeling and energy of it is VERY strangely than a lot of other mcyt fandoms. anyways its 5am im sorry if nothing makes senseaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

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transvavsquad · 4 years

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Hey Vavvy, I know you havent been feeling as all powerful as you normally do, so let’s reset!

i wanna just remind you lf one huge instigator in everything! the darkness potion! things to remember include:

Jordan was the only one who kept it, and he kept it for a while!

Ianite only made him get rid of it after he had collected more artifacts/gifts from the darkness!

When Jordan finally did get rid of it, he did so by feeding it to one of three magic foxes, which are connected to Ianite, who can also turn into a fox herself!

We still don’t know how long Ianite has been missing either! A lot of evidence has been presented to make us think it has been a while, and that someone else has been present in her place!

We do want to stay focused on canon material for this refresh though! It is important that we all remember that at this point, according to canon lore, our dear captain is still both human and light oriented, unfortunately.

Why do I think repeating all of these things we all already know will help?

Simply because I think that going back and looking at some more details around this could bring many new ideas to light, and give you a few newer thoughts to entertain for a bit!

Consider:

Where did Jordan store the potion?

In an ender chest! A magic pocket of space connected to an individual, which not even Angrec, the Darkness, or any gods can access!

Why did Jordan keep the potion [a secret]?

Jordan was reasonably sure that he was not the only one who had received this “gift” from the darkness, as this was after Karl received the armor from the Darkness, which was quickly followed by Mianite’s initial possesion from the same entity! Jordan also thought that consuming it would have a similar effect, but he was reluctant to rid himself of it, with a suspitious lack of trust for his neighbors to top it off.

Other questions that we have less of an answer for include; How did the darkness deliver the potion during the daytime? Why a potion? Why label something so potentially volatile so obvious? Did the potion Jordan recieved match those belonging to Tom and Karl? What were the actual effects of the potion? Where were Ianite and Dianite during much of the time the champions were worrying over the possesion of Mianite and these gifts?

I could easily keep scrutinizing every circumstance surrounding this (im not over the potion if you couldnt tell), but this should be enough to refresh you!

If it is not just let me know,

I can certainly continue✨🖤

i can answer at least one question: the potion offered to tom, at the very least, was the same. i don’t want to go back and find the source video, but it was the exact same- and here’s what he did, which is a sensible and normal thing to do- he saw what it was, and i believed he considered taking it for the briefest of moments, before he left it in the chest without even picking it up, and then left the chest alone and didn’t even fucking touch it. (karl, we’ll never know for certain. rest in peace his perspective, at least we have the screenshot of him sleeping with mianite.) and we do know that karl refused it, given his reaction to the simple appearance of a potion he didn’t know on the day after the anniversary, with his suspicion of tom offering a drink.

(funny how it was jordan who he immediately turned to when he thought it was the darkness potion, funny how karl automatically assumed jordan hadn’t been offered any potion, how darkness could never turn to jordan and offer him something. isn’t it lucky how jordan wasn’t given a gift at the exact same time as the others, regardless of the fact that he wasn’t there. the captain’s too good for darkness, i suppose.

funny how easily jordan brushed it off.)

his excuses, i’ve discussed, are flimsy at best- for balance, everything is for balance, but his sense of balance here is a little loose. he’s mostly doing this to keep something of this power out of anyone else’s hands, and promises everyone and himself and the darkness that no, no. he’d never use it. and tucks it away where only he can reach (supposedly- you brought up the fact that no one could reach into the chest except for jordan, yes, but there was a secondary gift from the darkness- i have not and will not forgotten about the rooted gem, mark my words, and we’ll get to that.) and hides it up until ianite comes around.

the darkness potion is what basically twists things around, yes, brings the focus onto the fact that jordan should be a champion of light, and even angrec does her best to provide him with this, giving him a sword of light. it’s jordan, it’s always jordan, of course. but jordan’s the one that takes the potion to keep anyone else from having it. jordan’s the one who takes the rooted gem, and puts it in his enderchest, from which it then disappears- (i’m not convinced the gods and titans can’t access the chests. dianite lied about the stones, later on. he just wanted the captain under his thumb.)- and that very same stream he is possessed by a conveniently reoccurring cat. there is the arrow of light, which he gives to block block after some... persuasion, and it is returned to him the arrow of darkness. he’s not about it, now, apparently- and only lets it back into his inventory when it’s renamed ‘arrow of truth’ and comes from his beacon of light. there’s more, i’m sure, but there’s no escaping it at this point- he champions light, but not very well.

did you know- the reason i built nerf house was because i hit post limit. but the reason i hit post limit that day was because i spent a lot of the morning liveblogging- i specifically was heavily focused on two things. his house was covered in obsidian, a prank by a friend-

and the glass over his beacon had been turned black.

#answering #long post #you want meta writing vav you get meta writing vav #i'll write a 15 page essay in two days and get a B i dont give a fuck #Anonymous

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syndianites · 4 years

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The After; The Athar: Chapter One

Chapter 1/?

Chapter 1 [Here] - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5

AO3: This Chapter - Full Fic

Summary: Post Season 2, non-Mianitian Compliant. The crew finally land back into the world after the events of Ruxomar. That should be a good thing, right? But Wag is feeling the burden of everything that has happened to him, and he didn’t even get his magic back to boot.

It’s hard to be happy when life has been so shitty.

Relationships: Sparklington (end-game), Marthlington (temporarily), Sparkanite (Spark x Ianite) (past, mentioned), Motanite

Content Warnings: Death Mentions, Implied Depression, Implied PTSD, Self-Deprecation, Breaking up a Relationship (Marthlington)

AN: I’ve been working on this since September? of 2019! I have 5 chapters done and still going. I wanted to wait to post this until I was done with it, but my impatience has gotten the better of me.

@the-moon-pal I’m coming for your crown king >:)

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They’d made it home a couple weeks ago, to the land of Mianite. It’d been such a relief. They got to meet the rest of the alts, got to watch Dianite meet the other gods- and cringe at the tension that crackled between them- got to find all their homes again. For once, in the past-however-long, there was peace. They could relax.

So why did Wag feel like utter shit?

Right. Because he literally got the worst part of the deal.

He thought his powers would come back when they got home. And they did, for a few hours. Not the full range, but a lot of it. It felt good to be full of magic again. It felt like he was himself.

But then things started to fall apart. Martha grew distant. His powers fell away in fits and bursts. He realized that the rest of FyreUK had moved on after they made amends in Ruxomar. They found their way on. Without him.

Nothing was the same, he realized, as he spent more time around the place they had called ‘home.’

Spark had done what he did best: built a city. Well, more like a village. What had once been a place of buildings thrown about at random and mostly open plains was now sparsely populated. Neatly arranged shops and a few houses took up the space next to the beach. New people had even begun to show up.

Everything was changing around him, yet he was stuck holding onto the past. Holding onto his wizardhood, to his brotherhood, to a partner that was farther now than ever, and- worst of all- he was still holding onto the hope that everything would just… go back. To how it was.

To when he was important.

Well, like fuck is he was going to sit around and loathe his existence. He could at least try to do something. Swear to Athar, he wasn’t going to turn into a lump of depression just because he couldn’t handle change! He’d rather be a walking mass of depression! That way he could at least pretend he was being productive.

Potions or spellbooks? A question as old as time. Potions were a staple in his life. If there was one thing that would never leave him, it was his ability to make fucking potions. Like, fucking make potions. Not potions to help people fuck. On the other hand, the more he poured through spellbooks, the more likely he was to get closer to finding out how to get his powers back.

Maybe his powers left when FyreUK left, taking all the glory of Athar with it. But that was too terrible of a thought, so that got chucked in the ‘not-today-bitch’ bin. Which was a handy dandy mental bin that stored all of his worst problems.

He never could fit himself in it, though.

So potions it was.

Now that he was out of the business of magic, most of his money came from his potion making. He had made yet another little wizard- alchemist? Potion master?- tower. Plopped some advertisements in el Pueblo de Spark and took orders to pass the time. He had to fund his botany experiments somehow. Someone had to introduce weed into this world, that might as well be him.

If he was going down in history for something, that wasn’t ‘Word Renowned Wizard Extraordinaire’, then ‘The Guy who Made Weed’ would sure as hell work.

Wag pulled up his log of orders. Luck, luck, dexterity, healing, luck, love- yeah, those didn’t really work but he’d make it anyways-, strength, luck, yadda, yadda, yadda. Lots of luck. He could probably get away with making a batch or two of luck potions, then work through the rest.

He spared a glance outside. Spark’s little hut-square town was beginning to develop into a pleasant little fishing hole. Surprisingly- or not, given how deep the waters were nearby- the place was actually a fairly hot place for single fish to mingle. Warm waters, nice and deep, lots of cover, and not much human interference. Until now, anyway.

Either the fishermen were starting to get a fair amount of revenue going or they really needed help. Luck potions were among his most expensive. The ingredients were hard to acquire regardless of how you made it.

Rabbit’s foot? Morally and physically hard to get a hold of. Rainbow trout? Terribly rare. ‘Star-light Fruit’? Not even confirmed to exist.

His method was a little more straightforward. A butt load of four-leaf clovers, a tiny bit of alcohol, and a fuckton of glitter. Clovers for the magic, glitter for the look, and alcohol for the feeling of being lucky.

It was a very bullshit potion.

It took forever to find the clovers, let alone collect them.

Athar give him strength.

Giving one last look outside, he tucked his log book in his cloak. Then he went and rummaged through his chests.

Monotony here he comes.

~~~

Wag was halfway through his second batch of luck potions when a distant knock came from his door, followed by the sound of bells. If not for the bells he’d have ignored the knocking. With a stretch, he putzed down the stairs. The many flights of stairs.

He missed being able to make elevators.

Opening the door revealed one Mr. Sparklez, hair tousled but otherwise neatly groomed. He was relaxed, if not a little winded from his trek up the hill Wag claimed as his own.

Wag smiled. “Hey Sparklez, what brings you up to my tower of terror today? Here for a chat or a swanky danky potion?”

He gestured for Jordan to head inside and get comfortable, but the man waved him off. “Actually,” Jordan started, “I was wondering if you’d seen Martha? I needed to ask her something and I haven’t seen her all day. Figured she’d be with you.”

Ah, so Jordan wanted to find Martha.

Ouch.

Doing his best to ignore the squeeze in his chest, Wag kept his smile firmly in place. “No, I don’t think I have. She, uh.” He paused, going for a nonchalant shrug. “She doesn’t come around the tower all that often. I’d ask Spark instead. She tends to hang around him more. Her good ole pops and all, y’know. They do have a lot to catch up on.” Wag tried to ignore how weak his words sounded. He didn’t want it to sound weird that Martha wouldn’t come around, but instead he just sounded pathetic.

Great.

Jordan gave Wag an awkward smile, seemingly uncomfortable with the sad display. “Ah, alright. I’ll ask around for Spark.”

He turned to leave but caught himself before he was fully turned away. Jordan chewed on his words. “Are you-” His eyes swept over Wag. “How have you been? We don’t see you as much anymore. Other than Tom, I guess, but it's hard to get rid of Tom once he decides you’re friends, y’know?”

“I’ve been,” Wag wanted to laugh, but pushed through the sentence, “swell, thank you. I would get out more, but I’m always so busy potion making. Gotta pay the bills somehow.” The words tasted bitter on his tongue. It wasn’t the exact truth, but he did spend a lot of time on potions.

Letting his shoulders settle, Jordan gave a small laugh. “Who would press a wizard to pay bills? Someone who wants to catch on fire, I’m sure.” He opted for a friendly smile. “If you ever want to hang out or something, let me know. I’ve been getting kind of bored between Spark telling me how to be a better champion of Ianite and living in an actual, peaceful society.”

Wag waved after Jordan as he began his descent. Yeah, a wizard. A frown tugged at his face while he shut the door.

A real fucking wizard.

~~~

Making potions was rather methodical. Each step took a certain amount of time, each item had certain effects, meshed certain ways with other items. It was like following a recipe, but with bigger consequences for messing up. Cooler results, though.

Wag had just finished melting down the clovers he’d gathered and extracting the essence- which is to say he lit it on fire after sprinkling a generous amount of blaze powder on it- when Jordan had stopped by. Which was convenient, since he needed to wait for the weird half-liquid half-slime to cool off enough to move it. The awkward potions, glitter, and alcohol were already prepped. Now all he needed to do was mix shit together.

Oh joy.

At the very least, it was satisfying to roll the clover essence into little balls to plop into an awkward potion and then watch them dissolve. The clover gave the essence a natural, healthy green color while the blaze powder, which clung to even the most thoroughly washed slime, gave it something of a yellow highlight. Golden glitter gets dumped in to make it feel like you were about to drink something special. Yes, the glitter was edible. No, most people didn’t realize he put glitter in this shit. Then the alcohol was for that background buzz. It was meant to dull the senses just enough to trick people into believing, wholeheartedly, in whatever god-forsaken abomination he just made.

Sorry. What ever divinely crafted, totally safe potion he’d just made.

Sure, he didn’t test it himself, but it seemed to work well enough for the people he gave it to. So where was the harm?

It was fine.

The next part was perhaps the most boring. And he’d spent all day yesterday crawling on the ground looking for four-leaf clovers.

Tagging and packaging. Writing names on slips of paper, tying them to the potion, putting it in a small, padded box to prevent any breaks. Rinse, repeat. It was annoying, wasted money, all that jazz, but it helped the look. Who wants to be handed a regular old potion, by hand, when you can get it in some majestic looking box to really add some sparkle to your magic?

Maybe Ruxomar rubbed off on him in a bad way.

In any case, the look was important, and by Athar was he going to make it look fucking fantastic.

Unfortunately, this task was also terribly, horribly monotonous. Worse yet, it left room for thinking. And thinking was Wag’s least favorite pastime since floating in the Void. Especially since floating in the Void.

It lead to him thinking deeply about himself and Athar knows that most of his life problems could be traced right back to that. His mistakes, his fuck ups, his shortcomings, all of it came back to him thinking way too hard about himself.

Gross.

Instead, he tried to run over potion recipes in his mind. Or any recipe, really. All the different ways to make a fire resistance potion when you don’t have magma cream. Counting how many potions used lemongrass. Figuring out what potions would make it more likely to catch fish. Literally anything. As long as it was potions, it was fine.

Not about himself, not about Athar, not about wizards, and not about… Martha.

Yeah, that last one would be a one hit k-o.

But now that his mind had touched on the subject, it dug in. Sunk it's claws into the delicate stability of his mind. Dramatic, he knows, but that’s how it felt. It was like the more he tried to get the thought out of his mind, the further it burrowed into him. Awful, painful, and not even worth the effort.

Martha… clearly didn’t care about him anymore. Or, well. He winced at the thought. She didn’t love him like she used to. If she, uh. Did in the first place. But this was old news. This was something he pondered after she seemed to avoid him like the plague, seemed to grimace when she looked over and saw him and not him.

Steve.

The name sat heavy in his head. They hadn’t meshed well, ‘specially where Martha was concerned. But they managed, for her, because they loved her.

Wag felt guilty, looking back on it now. For stealing their time together, for messing with their relationship. They hadn’t gotten to be together enough, had lost too much time before-

Yeah, he didn’t like thinking about Steve more than he didn’t like thinking about Martha. Wag didn’t feel like he deserved to think the name, let alone put himself up against his image. Steve was a hero. He rebelled against Helgrind in a cunning, intelligent way, he was selfless in more aspects than any of the heroes that appeared in Ruxomar, and he was the one to sacrifice the most. To sacrifice it all.

Where did Wag stand against that?

Honestly, it was no wonder Martha couldn’t stand to look at him. He was just a reminder of Steve, a reminder that she didn’t have Steve. That she had him instead.

Had she ever loved him?

That wasn’t the point. The point was that Martha was hurting, trying to pick up the pieces of what she left behind in Ruxomar. What she had lost. And Wag wasn’t doing anything to help. He was stuck up in his tower, making potions, trying to forget about everything that he wasn’t.

He should try to look for her.

But the last time he did, he got turned away. She was “catching up with her father.” She was “busy settling into the new world.” She was “trying to get a grip on her new goddesshood.”

Wag was persistent, but even he could get the hint.

By Athar, he got the hint. “I don’t want to see you.” “Don’t come near me.” “You can’t help me.”

He wondered if Spark was doing anything to help her or if he was also caught up in everything that had happened. From what he had learned about the man in Ruxomar, he was devoted to his wife. No, he gave everything for his wife. Learning she was dead after working up everything to see her again?

He had played it well. When he heard the news, Spark kept strong, only letting his tears show. If he had gone home later after parting with Martha, who had her own grief and guilt, crumbling on the inside no one would know. And if he had locked himself away and let everything loose, let himself break, none would be the wiser. But they could guess, they could give him a passing glance, a thoughtful frown.

Wag wondered if he still carried that grief around with him.

Spark had taken to trying to discipline Jordan to be a better champion of Ianite. It had made the man uncomfortable with getting told he could be a better follower and all. Or rather, having it implied that he wasn’t the best follower. Spark was stubborn in ‘training’ the champion of Ianite to be a full fledged follower.

Still, Jordan didn’t appreciate the sentiment.

Wag understood. Having the husband of the very goddess you watched die get on your case about being a better follower? When the crushing weight of guilt hadn’t fully let off your shoulders? He wondered if Spark hadn’t taken to coaching Jordan to make himself feel better, to remind himself that he would have kept Ianite safe, that he would have fixed the world before it broke out from under them.

It sounded like torture.

But it helped settle Wag. Call him selfish, but he felt better knowing other people had real problems, real grief, to deal with. Sure, Wag had his hang up with Martha. Yeah, he had his issues with being-a-wizard-yet-not. But he wasn’t as close to neck deep as Spark was. Like Martha was.

He wished belittling his problems made them feel less suffocating.

Martha. Martha was still pushing him away. And he was letting her. What did that say about him? About their relationship?

A sigh heaved out of his chest. It was like someone stuck a large rock right in his rib cage, tucked neatly between his lungs. Hard, heavy, and an all around burden. Potions. He needed to think about potions.

His hands betrayed him with a subtle shake. How many names did he have left to write? How many boxes did he have left to pack? Fuck if he knew. He had to keep counting, to find a way to wrap up all his issues, his panic, his fear, into a nice little package and tuck it away like a forgotten gift.

Athar help me, Wag tried to control his thoughts, I might drive myself insane by the end of the year.

As if on cue, another knock at his door broke his thoughts. He tried not to feel relieved to rush away from his potion packaging. He was fine, cool as a cucumber.

Throwing open the door, he came face to face with his second visitor of the day. Tom.

Tom was standing in front of his door almost uncertainly, like he wasn’t quite sure why or how he got there. He took one sweep over Wag’s unhidden face and a determined, focus look set in on his own.

“We,” Tom looped his arm around Wag’s in a sudden movement, “are going out somewhere. No if’s, and’s, or but’s.”

Eyebrows shooting up, Wag let himself be dragged from his house with an aborted motion to close the door behind him. He mournfully watched his door stay ajar. Hopefully no one else ventured up the hill today, otherwise he might be down a few potions.

“Why?” Wag turned his attention back to Tom, who was resolute in his intention of pulling Wag away to Athar knows where.

A grin was shot in his direction. “You look like you need to get out of the house. Also, I’m real fuckin’ bored and you’re clearly in need of some company.”

A wry smile snuck on Wag’s face. “Oh lucky me. We should get some tea, live up to our trademark.”

Tom nodded. “Absolutely. Let’s hit town. Fuck it up. Flaunt our hero-ness and get shit faced.”

“Let’s not get shit faced, and especially not get kicked out of town for making a ruckus.” Wag fondly rolled his eyes. “I do quite like living here and it’d be a shame to have to follow you around to make sure you don’t die.”

Tom gave a mocked offended gasp, free hand coming up to his forehead as he leaned away. “How dare you! I’ll have you know I’d never die if I didn’t live in a community. I’m a rogue, don’t you know.” He sniffed. “I can easily hold my own in the dangerous wilds.”

“Without anyone to pester and annoy?”

“I can pester anything!”

Wag bit his lip to stop a laugh. Tom always brought such energy with him. It was refreshing. Maybe he was right, he just needed some company.

He wouldn’t say that to his face, though.

“I suppose so,” Wag continued, “You are rather persistent. I bet you could annoy the sun into setting early.”

“Nah, I’d blow that fucker up instead.” Tom winked, snuggled back up to Wag, effectively trapping his arm. “I still think we should get shit faced. Drink our sorrows into the drain, throw them up another day.”

Wag mock gagged. “I’d rather keep them down the drain, thank you. Besides, what a waste of alcohol. If I’m drinking, I’m drinking to keep it down. Not!” He quickly cut Tom off, “That I want to go out drinking.” He eyed the sky, giving a disapproving look to Tom when he saw that it was still early afternoon. “No one should be getting drunk before the sun touches the horizon.”

With a pout, Tom leaned into Wag’s side. “Lame. I suppose,” he drew out the word, “we could go get some good old fashioned tea. Call it a pre-game without the game.”

Wag rolled his eyes. He wasn’t looking to out game his issues. That wasn’t a solution. It’d just make him turn into a sad drunk and give him a headache in the morning.

This is why he needed weed back.

But also, he didn’t want to develop another problem. Gotta keep it clean. For now.

Tom still had his own plans, alcohol or no alcohol. “I find when I’m feeling down that doing something batshit stupid makes me feel better. We should go fishing with our bare hands- no, with only our teeth- and no shirt on. Attract ladies and gents to us alike. Are they looking at our finely chiseled chests or our daring courage? Who’s to say.”

“You are far from chiseled my friend. Try soft.” Wag poked Tom in the stomach jokingly. “And who said that I’m feeling down?”

“Hey!” Tom swatted his hand away. “I’ll have you know I’m more ripped than you’ll ever be!” He huffed, squeezing Wag’s arm. They walked in silence for a moment, now upon the town. After wandering the street for a second, Tom spoke again, quieter. “I had this feeling.” Wag eyes him. “It was weird. My gut was telling me to check in on you. And then when you opened the door it was written on your face. Even I’m not dumb enough to miss that.”

Wag heard the unspoken I was worried carried in Tom’s words. Talk about soft. He squeezed Tom’s arm back. “Oh wow, a gut feeling?” He teased lightly, “I think it was just you missing my magical presence. It is hard to go too long without seeing me.” If only that were true. “But I’m here now, and we can go do something absolutely stupid, just for you.”

They share a smile, a quiet thank you floating between them.

Tom gets a glint in his eyes. “Does this mean we can go catch fish with our bare hands?”

“I suppose so.” Wag drawled. “How else are we going to show off our toned figures?”

That got him a laugh, one concerningly maniacal, and he was dragged between houses.

Yeah, he might regret this.

Tom turned and gave him a smile that was all teeth and no common sense. He paused next to the shore, a little ways off from the docks. Shucking his clothes, one Tom Syndicate stood proudly in his underwear, unconcerned about the effect of sunlight on zombified skin. People gave them a look of distaste.

Oh, he was definitely going to regret this.

~~~

Soggy was one way to describe how Wag felt. Wet as shit was another. All in all, he was rather pleased with himself and the rather large, shiny fish sitting in his lap. The fish which so happened to be a fair amount larger than Tom’s.

“Oh fuck you.” Tom spluttered around a mouthful of fish, laying down an arm’s length away. He had gathered quite an amount of fish, a solid number for catching something with your mouth alone. None of them were that large. In fact, most were an average, if not slightly below, size.

Wag eyed the pile smugly. He may have only caught two, but damn if he didn’t go big.

“Well, it seems that I’ve caught myself a winner.” He tried not to look too pleased. The look on Tom’s face told him he failed.

Tom scoffed, letting the fish fall to the sandy floor with a wet fwop. “You got lucky! Clearly, quantity wins the game here. Sure, you caught one big, old, dumb motherfucker, but I caught a dozen other dumbass fish! I should get the win.”

“Wasn’t size the goal here?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I think you do.”

Before Tom could fire back, a voice from behind interrupted him. “I think the two fools sitting in their underwear soaked to the bone are both losers.”

Wag tilted his head back to see Tucker standing with his hands in his pockets, back slouched, and an easy smile on his face, standing just where the sand turned to grass. Next to him was one lovely fox lady, Sonja herself, and one Sparkle butt, Jordan.

Nice to see the gang all here.

Tom sat up. “How dare you! I’ll have you know we are the best fishers on the island!”

Tucker raised a single eyebrow. “Really now? Are all the other fishers out at sea today?”

“Well excuse you, Mr. Boner. I’ll have you know we caught all of this,” Tom sweeps his arm across their score. “And I think that’s quite the haul.”

“How long did it take you?”

“Fuck you.”

Tucker snickered, moving closer to poke his foot into Tom’s side. “That’s what I thought.”

Wag, meanwhile, was carefully moving his prize to the side so he could stand up. Brushing the sand off himself, he exchanged a smile with Sonja and a nod with Jordan. Sonja gave him a good natured headshake. “And here I thought you were smarter than this.”

Jordan’s eyes trailed down Wag’s chest before flittering away. “Right down to your boxers? Tom must have gotten you good.”

“Well, I was fairly set on getting a nice cup of tea and walking across the beach, hand in hand like real lovers, but Tom was far more intent to go all macho and catch fish with his mouth alone.” Wag leaned in with a hand against his mouth to give a stage whisper. “Between you and me, I think he’s trying to step up his oral game.” He winked.

Jordan groaned, giving Wag what he thought to be a rather dramatic eye roll. That wasn’t even the worst he had to offer, and he’d given him such an easy setup! Sonja waggled her eyebrows and giggled when Tom butted in. “It’ll never be as good as yours dear.” He batted his eyelashes mock innocently.

The group burst into laughter. Tucker stepped closer, swinging an arm around his vaguely damp shoulders. “Hey, it’s nice to see you out and about man. It’s been a hot second. Almost thought you’d drank the wrong potion and kicked it or something.”

Wag nodded seriously. “Quite the real possibility. Why, just yesterday I almost drank real glitter! The kind you’re not supposed to eat.”

“Been there,” Sonja added, “I thought I was going to die when I did. Just gave me a very colorful trip to the bathroom.”

Tom grinned as he moved to elbow Jordan in the side. “I bet our good ole Captain here wouldn’t know the difference. How else did he get his namesake, right Mr. Sparkley Butt?”

“Hardy har,” Jordan gave Tom a fondly disgusted look. “The name’s Captain Sparklez, that ‘namesake’ came from you giving me a stupid nickname.”

They fell into more chatter, giving Tom and Wag the time to put their clothes back on, Tom not caring that he was still wet as he put his suit back on, while Wag just slung his cloak over himself. No point in putting pants on over wet underwear.

The group, all now clothed to some extent, began to wander back towards town. Wag was more than content to listen to Tom ramble on. He would get interrupted by Tucker when he said something ‘incredibly stupid’ and, more rarely, by Jordan, who would correct some technical thing that Tom clearly did not give a shit about.

Sonja drifted next to him, giving Wag a conspiratorial smile. “You’re looking mighty fine in just a robe and boxers. Is this the bedroom Wag special? Or is that sans boxers?”

“The bedroom Wag special is whatever you want it to be.” He winked. “It’s magic all around.”

They exchanged a laugh, falling silent again.

Wag knew that wasn’t what Sonja really wanted to talk about.

She looked back at him, a warm look in her eyes. “It’s nice. To see you out. Been a while, y’know?” Sonja stretched her arms out in front of her. “It really has been a bit since we’ve talked. And since you’ve left the house. But honestly?” Her tail swishes behind her. “I could have made a few more treks up that damn mountain myself.”

Shaking his head, Wag elbowed her side lightly. “It is a fairly tall hill, but I think mountain is a bit of an overstatement.” It was, in fact, a bitch of a climb, but Wag didn’t think it was that bad. He’d put the tower just on the other side of the Glowstone Forest, across from the Priest’s house. (What was it called again? Forest of the Void? Abyss Forest? Obsidian Trees? Yeah, he didn’t know or care).

Left unsaid was a ‘That’s okay, you don’t have to go out of your way’.

He received an eye roll. “Please, the only trek worse than that is up to where Tucker’s first house was. I was so happy when we moved it down the mountain. Well, into.”

It’s no trouble, her words left hanging, I don’t mind.

Wag huffed. How dare she be considerate. “You know what’s worse than a trek up a mountain? A trek up a mountain to get some rare flower, only to be spited by the universe and have not a single flower growing up there. Honestly, I could use some help from someone so used to climbing mountains.” A smirk pulled at his face. “Or maybe just send someone up there for me.”

We could always hang out when I’m playing master botanist. If you’d like.

Sonja smiled at him, but couldn’t resist getting a dig in. “Aw, did you skip leg day? Have some chicken legs over there? That’s alright, I’m sure someone,” she tilts her head, eyes sweeping past the buildings around them, “would be willing. Get a nice little lackey so you can rest your old bones at home and complain about how the cold makes your joints stiff.”

“How dare you,” Wag sniffed, hand held up to his heart. “I’ll have you know, my joints are just fine in the cold! Some of us just aren’t made of the cold, little miss fox.”

Sonja, ever so mature, stuck her tongue out at him.

They kept up some conversation, occasionally stopping to listen in to whatever Tom was saying. Wag, for a moment, realized that he had missed this. Missed them. That even though he wanted to avoid all the new things in this world, he’d always have his friends.

A quiet, hopeless voice asked if they’d leave him too.

~~~

There was nothing quite like hiking up a hill, in only your boxers, a little buzzed, during the night time. The pure amount of skeletons that had sniffed around looking for a cheap shot alone was bad enough, but the fact that his legs already hurt from struggling to fish with just his mouth without drowning? Yeah, it felt more like he was climbing up a mountain that was near vertical.

Fuck gravity.

A pit of warmth had settled in his chest a couple hours ago. Whether it was the alcohol that Tucker, of all people, had got the group into drinking or just the effect of being with friends for a while, Wag felt content. Not a common feeling in recent times. It was nice.

Really nice.

Upon reaching his door, his mind scrambled to figure out why it was left slightly open. He shrugged. As long as nothing was missing or stolen, he didn’t really care.

He made his way inside- making sure to actually close the door behind him- and wandered over to the stairs. Ah, his mortal enemy. Between being a wizard way back when and the magic rampant in Ruxomar, he had gotten way too used to avoiding stairs. Now it was a chore to move up and down the tower. But his bed was upstairs and he was not sleeping on the crappy couch he shoved into the lobby for guests or customers again.

So stairs it was.

By the time he got halfway up the stairs, he wanted to quit. Why, in Athar’s name, did he put his room on the third highest level? Stupidity, that’s why. The view was so not worth it.

When he actually made it up to the correct floor, he pushed the door to his room open, chucked his clothes to one side, and collapsed in bed. Now this, this was worth it. Soft, plush, warm, and very much without skeletons.

The less arrows being shot at him the better.

A soft chuckle caught his attention. Or rather, killed the peace he had wrapped around himself mere hours earlier.

He didn’t move. Not because he was scared. No, he knew who was in his room. He just wanted to pretend, for a moment, like this was something he was used to.

Like coming home to his lover being home wouldn’t surprise him.

The bed dipped beside him and his robed and boxer-ed glory. A hand ran through his hair. Wag tried not to tense.

“Seems like you had a good night out.” Her voice was like silk, soft and pleasant on his ears. “Hopefully they didn’t hassle you too much.”

Wag breathed. His chest was tight, emotion punching at his ribs. “Yeah,” he said, “It was nice to have some time with them again.”

All of this felt so forgein, now. To have her here. Was she here? Or did he drink more than he had originally thought. Shit.

Martha scratched his head. “I do have to say, I’m surprised that you actually left the tower. You’ve been holed up here for so long I thought I’d have to drag you out.” He could hear the smile in her voice. Or maybe he was imagining it. His head was a mess and he wasn’t quite sure what he was making up and what was real.

It was kind of pathetic.

He laughed. “Yeah, Tom showed up and dragged me out. Not complaining though, I had a lot of fun. It was nice to take off from work. Making potions gets boring.”

So did sitting in your own depressing thoughts, but that was more exhausting than boring.

“Oh,” Wag turned his head to face Martha, looking up at her. The darkness made her hair stand out. It looked like a halo around her face, bringing out her lovely lilac eyes. She was just as beautiful as the last time he’d seen her. But there was something heavy in her eyes that she tried to wipe away when his own reached her. “Jordan was looking for you earlier. Did he ever find you?”

Martha blinked and the heaviness was gone. Ish. He knew it was there. Somewhere.

“Ah, no.” She frowned. “I’ll have to see what he needs tomorrow.”

He nodded. To be honest, Wag wasn’t convinced Martha was actually sitting here with him. Which was kind of sad. Very sad.

“I can come with, if you’d like,” Wag rushed out, trying not to sound desperate. “We haven’t had much time together, which is understandable with your dad being around and all the stuff you need to do. And, y’know, it’d be nice to walk with you for a bit.”

Oh, he sounded so desperate.

Yikes.

A smile graced Martha’s lips. “Sure, I’d love that.” Wag let out a breath. “We’ll take a stroll, get a nice scenic view of the beach as we go, call it a date-” She cut off. The heaviness came back to her eyes. Wag knew what she was thinking. Who she was thinking about.

It hurt.

“I’m going to go take a shower before getting ready for bed. You can go ahead and sleep, if you’d like. I know you’ve had a long day and you’re probably tired. Don’t force yourself for me.” Martha stood as she said this, fingers trailing in his hair. Then she left.

Reluctantly, Wag got up to do just that. Changed his boxers and hung up his cloak. Buried himself back into bed, under the covers.

Yeah. It’d be a date.

~~~

Martha didn’t like to get up early. Neither did Wag. Normally, this lead to them sleepily cuddling until one felt so inspired as to get up. Normally.

Ever since the group returned to the land of Mianite, Martha didn’t sleep as well. Between nightmares, being a fledgling goddess, and the… absence of certain people, she found herself waking earlier and earlier.

Wag had his fair share of sleep troubles. Where sleep troubles stopped Martha from sleeping as much, it led to Wag sleeping more. The less he slept the more exhausted he was. The more exhausted he was the more he slept. It was a vicious cycle and actually the reason Wag didn’t leave the house as much.

Nonetheless, both found themselves getting ready to leave just after dawn. Martha moved like last night didn’t end awkward and uncomfortable. Bright, cheerful, and painfully affectionate with Wag. Like she hadn’t been avoiding him for the better part of their stay here.

The worst part was that this wasn’t the first time she came back like nothing was wrong. It was almost like she could tell when he was starting to doubt their relationship. Except, he was constantly doubting their relationship. Even when things had been going well. But this time, it was like she knew when he was thinking about how much of a relationship they didn’t have.

Which was concerning if she actually knew what he thought.

Wag, on the other hand, moved like a zombie. Tired, groggy, and barely awake. The picture of early morning beauty. It wasn’t far off from how he used to act, but now it was like someone had chained weights to his feet.

Damn, he was tired as shit.

Martha had set about making some breakfast from the little food he had. Some eggs, some- thankfully not spoiled- fruit, and milk. Wag was pretty sure he didn’t have milk, but he wasn’t going to question it. She was the more magical of the two, now, so it was within reason that she could get milk in the few minutes he’d lagged behind her in getting out of bed.

He, on the other hand, was on the task of making coffee. Coffee was something of a luxury here, since it was so new to the land. It wasn’t grown naturally on the island and Wag wasn’t sure if it was imported from some far off place or if it had been introduced by the earlier dimension hoppers that still hung around. Spark, for sure, seemed to run on the stuff.

That didn’t really matter to Wag, though. He had a plant of it in his garden, for ease of access, but more importantly to see if it could be used to help crossbreed weed into existence. No far off land had procured the plant yet, so he would still strive to be the maker of weed.

Not the best plan in the world, but that wouldn’t matter once he actually made the plant.

He really shouldn’t be encouraging substance abuse.

Surely, coffee would wake him up. Then he could go on a walk with Martha and do that thing they seemed to do where they avoided those topics and pretended like everything was fine. And maybe, just maybe, they’d enjoy the conversation. Maybe they’d feel something again, feel whole for the brief moment where they let themselves forget about the person who was missing, the person that clearly held more place in Martha’s heart for it to have torn so much when he-

Maybe Wag would get his shit together and let things die between them.

Maybe he’d decide that fighting an uphill battle wasn’t worth it.

For now, though, he was content to pretend things were the same. It was better than being entirely, wholly alone. And, deep in his heart, he still loved her. So, so much.

Enough that he knew it would hurt no matter what he did.

They chatted over the food Martha cooked. She complemented his coffee, the beans from the plant he owned, and he told her that the cooking is just as good as it’d always been.

Neither mentioned that it was usually Steve, not either of them, that did the cooking.

They tossed little affections at each other with ease. Like it was second nature. A brush of hands, a quick smile, a peck on the cheek. It was like a dance. As though they were trying to make a show of how much they still cared, how much nothing had changed despite the fact that everything had changed.

Hands loosely held together, they left the house as a unit, holding up a conversation with ease. If either of them tripped up in their speech as they avoided that topic or this word, neither called each other out for it. For all that everything was off and wrong, they made it work. They found a way to shove a cube into a round hole.

Whether it was because they wanted it to work so bad or because the hole was a giant chasm with space for miles was up to debate.

The beach was calm in the early morning. Fishers were stocking up their ships to start up on their daily trip, tightening a rope here, making space there. Few people walked about the town, the kids either asleep or getting hassled to eat breakfast. With so few people out, it felt like they were on the outskirts of life, just the two of them. Like viewing the world through a painting.

That illusion was helped by the sheer height of Jordan’s tree. It was still there, despite the damage it had received when Tom got to it. If he looked closely, Wag could see the remains of burn marks and grooves held in the thick bark. He had heard that, after the heroes had left, Ianite had nursed the tree back to life in honor of her lost champion.

He ignored the fact that Ianite had sent them into the void in the first place.

Wag himself had left before that, called on to help the heroes that he had watched over as a distant wizard. Even now, he wondered if it had been worth it. To lose everything because he was asked to. In his weakest moments, he wondered if it hadn’t been the gods’ way of throwing him out.

That thought hurt the most out of everything in his life and he never let it linger.

It wasn’t long before they made it to the base of the hill that Jordan’s tree- sorry, Jerry’s Tree- sat beside. They weren’t that close to getting inside yet, but it was a milestone.

As they climbed the hill, massive roots stretching out below them, Wag started up some conversation about the different species of trees. He never once mentioned apple trees. It was part of his botany, after all, and important to keep track of. The types of trees, not apple trees. Apple trees were just one of those topics and therefore something they made an unspoken agreement not to talk about.

He pondered, during his ramble, that Martha could have just flown up the tree. She could do that, after all. Wag couldn’t. Not anymore. The worst part was that he’d help build this tree, or, well, make it. Way back then. That was a sore spot to think about, but even still he was in awe of the tree. Not because of the fact that he's contributed to it- no, he had felt a sense of pride for that a long time ago. Rather, because of how it’d regrown.

Ianite’s gentle hand had turned it from merely a large, enchanting tree to a behemoth of divine wonder. Its branches had spread further, with more room between them and the tips reaching towards the heavens. The leaves had shaped up and gotten fuller, surely the size of a full-grown adult by now. Fireflies could be seen lazily hovering about clusters of leaves, giving the tree a pleasant, natural lighting.

Many more platforms and walkways had been built, new buildings having been added on top of that. They stretched from one end to the other. The most daring teased the edge of a branch, hung firmly along the length of it. The walkways were either long rope bridges made of braided vines that shimmered a faint purple or ramps made and reinforced by the same wood the tree was made of, the bottom featuring fancy swirls alongside the support beams.

Other vines, flora, and bushes lined the branches and platforms. Though they looked like they were leeching off the tree at first, a closer inspection- granted you were on the tree to get an inspection- showed they were delicately wrapped around the branches and sneakily planted in hidden pots for a more natural look. The flowers ranged from all sorts of purples- fitting. Buddleias enclosed doorways, Hyacinthus were wound along lanterns strung along pathways, and an abundance of Jacaranda could be found wherever space was made for flora.

The more he looked the more nature there was to see, the more connecting walkways there were strung along, the more everything there was. It felt like the whole world was home under the canopy.

The tree had gone from the house of a solitary man to a city of nature.

It didn’t feel like the same tree.

Wag pushed aside the nagging thought that it was better than anything he could have ever made. Ianite was a full fledged goddess, Wag was- had been- a mere wizard with the idea of godhood in his head. What he made had been incredible for mortal standards, and was still incredible for the standards he had held himself to. It would do no good to compare himself to Ianite, especially when all she had done was repair what was already there.

As they made their way up to the crest of the hill, following the path from the town to the tree as it curled around Jordan’s old home, Wag spared a glance at the birch and quartz house. It was simple, sleek and minimal. It suited Jordan. Of course, Jordan himself had made it, so why wouldn’t it?

Compared to Jerry’s Tree, though, it seemed rather dull and insignificant.

Actually.

Wag spared a closer look at the smaller home. It looked lived in. A frown pulled at his lips. Was someone living there? Who else, other than Jordan, would?

Martha had picked up the conversation now, adding in details about trees that she had seen in her travels long ago, ones he’d never have had the chance to see. There were many interesting species, some magical in the same sense as Silverwoods, some as plain as a simple oak tree, but all more than enough to satiate Wag’s desire to know more. His mind kept getting pulled back to the Casa de Sparklez, though.

A thought struck him, one he’d had just moments before.

Jerry’s Tree looked and felt so different, now that Ianite had tended to it. Like it was a different tree. Did Jordan think the same? Did it feel less like home, after being away for so long and having watched it burn?

Was Jordan living in his older house because the tree felt so forgein?

Martha was going on about a beautiful tree known for the lights its seeds shone, especially during the night hours. It really sounded like a sight to behold. More than that, the gentle, awed look on Martha’s face pulled at Wag’s heart.

Take care of her.

There was a sour taste in his mouth. Wag decided not to mention what he had just noticed. That was Jordan’s business, not his.

Martha was looking at him now, a small, shy smile on her lips. Wag felt like if he said the wrong thing it’d disappear in an instant. Like Martha was used to having her interests pushed aside, or used to pushing them aside herself when people didn’t seem to care about what she was saying.

Take care of her.

He offered a smile back, a genuine one. He really did love her. More than anything, he wanted to keep loving her. But something told him it wouldn’t work. That what they had had started to decay sometime around the end of Ruxomar, around when he left.

No, around when Martha almost became Mrs. a instead of a Ms.

Bitterness clutched at Wag’s heart. For all the love he held for her, he wondered, again and again, if she held the same. If she ever held the same, if she even held something close to the same.

Take care of her.

Looking up at Jerry’s Tree, Wag remembered what it used to be. He remembered watching it burn, the pain he had felt in seeing his hard work get tarnished, in seeing a friend’s home wither away.

Now, though, it was different. Not quite a home, anymore, but reborn. Alive. And maybe, in the future, it’d be a home again, or maybe not. Maybe it needed to burn for it to become what it was now. Jordan would have never built it up to this, but Ianite had.

Maybe that was the secret, Wag pondered. Maybe you had to let things burn to be able to build them up stronger.

He looked at Martha again, at the softness in her face and the hardness in her eyes. His heart pulled in so many directions. Love, anguish, love, despair, love, hurt, love love love.

Yeah, he was going to have to let this relationship burn.

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myfriendscallmecoelophysis · 4 years

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The Fears of a Goddess Pt 2

Part 2 of my Dark! Ianite fic

Part 1

Part 3

Enjoy and as always

Find me on Ao3:

Selenejessabelle12626 for the tame stuff

Lady-Spieroles for the less tame stuff ;)

“Hey Karl?”

“Yeah?”

“You seen Jordan around?”

“Not today I haven’t. Don’t think I saw him yesterday either. Why do ya ask?”

“Just haven’t seen him. Bit weird. Lemme know if you see him.”

“Will do.” Karl replied as Tom emerged from his mine, pickaxe slung over his shoulder. He hadn’t seen Jordan in a few days, hadn’t heard from him either aside from one passing message about anyone knowing a librarian who traded rare books. He and Karl had both responded with negatives and heard nothing from Jordan since.

Tom nearly fell over when he stepped into his house because Dianite was there, waiting for him. He’d not seen Dianite in weeks, maybe even months (he’d lost track of the days ages ago). In an instant he inclined his head to the God. “Dianite.”

“Syndicate. I am glad to see my trust in you was not misplaced.” The God greeted, sounding pleased. “And you did as I asked?”

“Yes. They think I serve Ianite. Jordan wasn’t happy about it but Ianite didn’t seem to mind. Did you find something about her? She’s possessed by the Shadow thing isn’t she?”

“Unfortunately no, my sister has done far too good a job at hiding her motivations. At least for now. I have no idea about the Shadows, Mianite has taken it upon himself to lead the charge on that research. But that is not what I’ve come to speak to you about. Have you seen The Captain recently?”

“Haven’t seen him in a while, neither has Karl. Why?” Maybe it was time to start worrying about Jordan if even Dianite was trying to find him.

“Hmm, I was afraid you’d say that. I think it’s time we find him.”

Tom led the way to Jordan’s island, searching the entire tower for the Captain. There was no sign of him but there was evidence that he’d been there recently. His cats all had food, the brewing stands had bottles and actively burning blaze powder, the extra food in his chests was still fresh. He’d possibly even been home today and had just stepped out for a moment.

“I’ll go check the temple.” Tom suggested, assuming Dianite either couldn’t or wouldn’t set foot in it. As Tom swam to the temple entrance he realized it’d been a while since he’d been here, not since ‘swearing his loyalty’ to Ianite. It looked mostly the same except that now, there was a doorway in the back corner. When had Jordan done that? And what was it? A secret room? If so it wasn’t very well hidden. He’d seen better from Jordan before.

Curiously, Tom approached. Beyond the veil of water, he saw a hallway that went in and behind the temple. A glow of light came from around the corner and as he stepped through the door he could hear the murmur of voices. There was a button set on the wall just inside and he realized that this was indeed a secret room, the door just had not been shut behind the last person who’d entered. He wasn’t surprised by the existence of a secret room from Jordan, Gods knew the man could be paranoid about people stealing his stuff, but they'd established somewhat of a gentleman’s agreement in this world against blatant thievery, so it didn’t really make sense for him to have one anyway.

Tom kept his steps light as he went down the hall, listening carefully. “...was the author of a lot the books in Ruxomar, in that world he was-” when he rounded the corner Tom was surprised to see not a vault but some sort of library. Sparklez was sat at a desk with Ianite leaning over his shoulder, both looking at something on the desk, their backs to the door. “-their Father. If I’m right, he has a counterpart here, like we did there.”

Tom backed away into the shadows when Jordan looked up. “My vision.” Ianite said and Jordan nodded in agreement. What were they talking about? Tom admittedly hadn’t paid much attention to a lot of what was going on in the other world but he did vaguely remember what Jordan was talking about. Some bloke whose name they’d heard referenced pretty often when it came to the history of the realm. World Historian or something like that. But he could have sworn that World Historian had been the guy that had attacked them after they’d revived Dianite. Jordan surely knew that, why was he looking for him?

“We just need to find where he is.”

“You never cease to amaze, My Champion.” Ianite said, squeezing his shoulder as she stood up fully. “I’ll see what I can find and bring back to you. Thank you.”

“Of course Milady, anything.” She disappeared a moment later without any fanfare. This was Tom’s chance to talk to Jordan alone. And maybe figure out just what the hell was going on.

He backed down the hall to the doorway, ducking through the veil of water quickly then back in once more. “Eh Jordan? You in here?” He called down the hallway, as though he’d only just found this. He heard the fluttering of paper and the scrape of the chair on the stone brick floor. He pushed the button to seal the door, the sound of pistons firing echoing down the hall. “Whoa.” He said, loud enough that Jordan would be able to hear.

“Uh, yeah.” Jordan replied, maybe realizing that Tom wasn’t about to just leave. At his acknowledgement, Tom ventured down the hall. When he rounded the corner he poured the appropriate amount of awe and teasing into his expression and voice.

“Jordan you sneaky Jordan you, what is this? Fancy little secret library?” Jordan was honestly quite a talented builder. He stuck to basic builds most of the time but when he went all out, boy did he go all out. The temple was right pretty and this little study library thing was something out of a wizard’s castle.

Sparklez didn’t look too happy to see him, his expression carefully neutral. Clearly this was intended to be something Tom wasn’t supposed to find. “Just something I built.”

“Why put it here? Did Ianite ask you to?”

“I’m working on something for her. It just made sense to put it down here.” He replied with a shrug.

“What’s she got you working on?” Tom asked as he looked around, highly aware of the way Jordan hesitated in replying.

“Just some stuff about the prophecy and all that.”

“C’mon Sparklez, you can tell me. We’re both Team Ianite.”

Jordan scoffed a bitter sort of laugh. “Yeah, you Team Ianite.”

Tom frowned “I am. I swore it and everything.”

“Sure Tom, whatever you say.” He rolled his eyes and turned back to the desk, pushing papers aside.

“I am. I told you. I want there to be balance.” Something in Jordan’s posture stiffened for a moment, his hands pausing in their search for whatever he was trying to find. “That’s the point isn’t it, us coming back here? To get the Gods all balanced and strong or something like that?”

Jordan turned back but something in his eyes had hardened, instinctually Tom took a step back. “And how are we supposed to do that if you’re trying to join my team? Each of us has to help a God, that’s what the prophecy said. Karl with Mianite, Me with Ianite, and you with Dianite. So stop this stupid game and just admit you’re up to something!” Tom took another step back, he’d not seen Sparklez angry like that for a while. Not since a prank he and Karl had pulled had gotten a bit out of hand and set his chicken pen on fire. But Tom had never been one to back down, he could give as good as he got.

“Me up to something?! I’m not the one that’s been hiding for a week doing all sorts of shady stuff.”

“It’s research!”

“For what?! There’s no magic in this world Sparklez. Research is not an excuse! What’s she got you doing?!” He didn’t mean the reference to Ianite to come out as sharply as it did, suspicion accidentally leaking into his words. Sparklez was far too clever to not pick up on it, his eyes narrowing beneath his glasses.

“I am doing the job we are supposed to be doing, helping the Gods become as strong as possible.” His voice was as cold as ice, his eyes boring into Tom’s. If Tom were a different man he’d have bit his tongue and held back the scathing remarks he so badly wanted to say. He would have taken a deep breath and calmly deescalated this entire thing. Unfortunately, he was Dianite’s Champion for a reason and defusing conflict was simply not something he did.

He took two steps towards Jordan, getting entirely in his personal space, something he knew the man hated and let his words spill like lava. “Fat lot of good that will that do when Dianite locks her up anyway.” He was shocked when Sparklez shoved him back, his feet slipping under him on the damp stone. He fell on his ass and Jordan wasted no time stalking over and looming above him. He’d drawn his bow, leveling a nocked arrow at Tom. He always forgot how scarily quick a draw Sparklez was.

“Not if I have anything to say about it.”

“What are you talking about? You can’t change the future! We agreed we wouldn’t!” He wouldn’t dare. Sparklez had been the one to bring it up in the first place, what damage they could cause if they weren’t careful. He wouldn’t just do it anyway, not after he was so adamant about just letting things happen as they should.

“Plans change.”

So that’s what they were planning then. He wanted to change the future. Keep Dianite from locking Ianite up if Tom had to guess. The real question was, who was the mastermind behind the plan? It was certainly in Sparklez’ character to stand up for Ianite but he’d known what would happen to her when he’d told Tom to abandon any ideas of changing the future. But already Dianite and Mianite both had their suspicions about their sister. Maybe she’d managed to convince Sparklez to help her change her fate? Either way he had to talk to Dianite.

“Sparklez-”

“I think it’s time for you to go Tom.” He interrupted, taking a half step back so Tom could get to his feet. He let his bowstring slacken but didn’t remove the arrow.

“Jordan.” Tom pleaded. “Please. Think about this. You said it yourself, we were sent back to help the Gods.”

“And I am. With my help, Ianite won’t have to suffer. Now, leave. Go back to Dianite.”

“Jordan please.”

He drew back the bowstring once more, the tip of the arrow pointed directly at Tom’s chest. “Leave Tom.”

‘What are you doing Sparklez?’ “Fine.” He raised his hands in a show of surrender then backed out of the room, only turning his back to Jordan once he rounded the corner. The moment he was out of Jordan’s sightline, he broke into a sprint, smashing the button to open the door and all but diving into the water. He had to get to Dianite and tell him what was going on before Jordan could inform Ianite of their argument.

He swam as fast he could back to the surface, shouting for Dianite the moment his head was above water. His God appeared above the water a fraction of a second later. Before he could say anything, Tom was already speaking. “They’re doing something. Trying to change the future, find a guy called World Historian, or at least his alternate self in this world. He was bad news when we saw him before, can’t imagine he’ll be much better now. And-”

“Calm yourself Syndicate. You’ve done well to learn this.” Dianite interrupted. He gestured and then they were both standing back on Tom’s island. “It’s not what I expected of her but unfortunately I can’t say I’m surprised. She’s never been particularly happy with the fate our Mother prophesied for her.” He put a hand to his chin in a thoughtful expression. Tom wasn’t sure what to do, he couldn’t do anything to a Goddess and Jordan was clearly off the deep end along with her. “I must confer with Mianite on this development. For now, collect the other one and see if you can do something to keep the Captain occupied and away from my Sister. We will handle her.”

Tom nodded and then fell to one knee, inclining his head. “I request to return to your service My Lord.”

“Very Well.” Tom felt the sudden heat of a flaming blade above his shoulder. “Syndicate, do you swear your loyalty to me?”

“I do solemnly swear my fealty, mind, body and soul to you and your cause My Lord Dianite. From this breath until my last, I am yours to command.” He did not need the prompting of the ceremony, he knew the words by heart. He felt the touch of the blade upon each shoulder and then the strange, shimmering void like feeling that was the hallmark of Ianite’s influence disappeared. In its place, the comforting and familiar heat of Dianite’s infernal fire returned, rushing through his veins like wildfire.

“Rise my Champion. In return for your loyalty, I present you with this blade.” Dianite said, presenting the hilt of the blade he’d used to Tom. The moment he took it, Tom could feel the strength it was imbued with. It shined with enchantments, he did not even bother asking what they were, the power that poured off the weapon was plenty to assure him of its strength.

“Perhaps with this, you may stand a chance at surviving a confrontation with Ianite’s Champion.”

And then Tom was alone.

Ok. Somehow he had to keep Jordan’s attention as long as possible, after the huge fight they’d just had. Jordan, who was highly unlikely to want to see Tom, let alone spend an extended amount of time with him especially now that Tom knew what he was planning. The friendly option wasn’t going to work this time. Tom took a deep breath and entered his home, opening the chest that contained his valuables. If the friendly option wasn’t going to work, he had no choice but to go with the nuclear option. From his chest he pulled the stack of TNT he’d been slowly adding to for weeks in case it ever was needed. Now seemed as good a time as any. Nothing like a classic rampant bit of destruction to get and keep Sparklez attention.

He couldn’t do it alone though. Jordan would certainly catch him far too quickly for the risk to be worth it. He needed Karl’s help.

“Karl If I asked you to help me do something extremely dangerous and stupid, would you?” He asked on a private communicator channel.

He began to sort through his inventory, putting his weapons in easy reach, removing useless blocks and items. He had a few leftover potions that he pocketed and made sure he had plenty of food. There was a chance he could be on the run for days if he got Sparklez mad enough. It’d happened in the old world, after Tom had set fire to Sparklez tree. It'd been a terrifying and anxiety-inducing few days. But he’d do it again now if that’s what it took to stop him and Ianite from changing the future.

“Uh, possibly. Depends on what it is.” Karl replied.

“I’m going to blow up Sparklez island.”

“Why the hell would you do that?! Aren’t you the one who told me not to mess with him like that? Something about us not standing a chance if he ever really went after us?” He was right. Tom had warned Karl early on against pranking Jordan too badly.

Tom knew when he was outmatched and Jordan made it a hobby to make the strongest weapons and armor just in case something ever went down. He’d been that way since the Modestep siege. His philosophy had quickly gone from neutrality to being the most geared out once he realized that they were reluctant to attack someone with the bigger weapons. It’d only gotten worse in Ruxomar. With all that technology, Jordan had become practically invulnerable within a few days. Tom still to this day wasn’t sure how he’d managed to make his ‘Bow of Balance’ as strong as he had. Not to mention that force field or the ‘Price of Betrayal’ sword. At least in this world he didn’t have access to any of those but still, who knew what enchantments his weapons had?

“I know. And that’s why I need your help. He and Ianite have gone mad. Dianite needs me to keep Sparklez busy while he and Mianite take care of Ianite but if I go alone he’ll probably kill me in minutes. I need you to help me run interference.”

Karl said nothing for a long moment and Tom sighed. He was asking a lot of Karl, risking his life to help him do this, but what other choice did he have?

“And you’re sure about this?”

“No.” Tom admitted “But I really don’t have a better plan.”

“Alright then. What do you need from me?”

They flew over to Jordan’s island fully decked out in their strongest armor and weapons. It may have been a bit overkill because c’mon, it’s Jordan, but right now Tom wasn’t sure Jordan wouldn’t attack them outright. He’d threatened him seriously enough before. He was behaving out of the ordinary for sure, oddly enough that Tom wasn’t willing to say he knew what was going through his head.

“You go in through the top, I’ll go in from down here. Place the TNT but don’t light it. I don’t want to destroy more than we need to to get his attention.” Karl has a less than stealthy running stop of a landing on the roof but it’s leagues better than smashing into the wall. He waved down to acknowledge he was ready and with sword drawn, Tom entered the tower.

They clear the tower without a sign of Jordan, meeting up on the floor he’d dedicated to potion work. “Anything?” Tom asked. He’d placed his TNT sparingly, but strategically. Aiming for structural damage over actual brutality.

“No sign of him. But the upper floors are mostly empty, not sure why he built them to be honest.”

“He builds preemptively. Decides what to do with a room after he’s already built it. He might be down in the temple still, not sure if he’d even hear it if he’s in that secret room.”

“Outside then? I don’t really want to be the one to blow up his temple.”

“Won’t work underwater anyway.” They head outside and scatter the leftover TNT around his farms. It’s possible Jordan isn’t here, thought Tom’s not really sure where he would have gone. The Nether wouldn’t do much for him and the End was just, the End. There was nothing there to begin with.

Tom dove down into the Temple but again found no evidence that Jordan was still around. He returned to the surface as Karl was climbing up onto the chicken pen.

“I don’t think he’s here.” Karl commented after laying the last piece he had.

“I don’t think so either. But where could he have gone?”

Jordan had always had nothing short of an impeccable sense of direction. He’d placed no markers in the End to point in the direction of Ianite’s study, he just knew which way to fly. He’d not been the one to make it, presumably she had at some point in her life. All he’d done was contribute a handful of rare books he’d traded wandering traders for. This was her domain entirely, he was just visiting. He glided through the doorway and gracefully came to a stop behind her desk, falling to one knee without hesitation.

“I didn’t expect to see you so soon. What happened?” She asked, standing without pause and pulling him to his feet.

“Tom found my library.” he confessed, Ianite’s expression darkening. “We got into an argument and-” she put a finger to his lips, meeting his eyes with great seriousness.

“I don’t care what was said but tell me this, does he know of my plans?” Perhaps in another life, with another Ianite, Jordan might have noticed the way her facade had dropped ever so slightly when she spoke not of ‘their plans’ but of hers when as far as he knew it had been his idea.

“Nothing more than preventing Dianite from locking you away.”

Her eyes softened and her hand shifted to cup his cheek “Then you’ve done well.” Ianite stepped back to her desk. “I suspected that at least Dianite had his suspicions, it’s why he sent Syndicate to our side in the first place. It’s no matter if they have an idea of what we have in motion. Even if they knew everything, it’s far too late for them to stop us. With what you uncovered I revisited one of my Mother’s old journals. In it is detailed the location of the temple where my Father was imprisoned. That is where we need to go.”

“Tom’s probably told Dianite by now, or at least Karl who would have told Mianite.” “I agree, we must move quickly. But that is also why I have a gift for you.”

He watched as she pulled something out of thin air with a great sense of purpose. She turned back towards him with a single arrow between her fingers. It was made of materials in shades of purple, he would expect no less from her, but the arrowhead itself was a deep, otherworldly amethyst color. She held it out to him with a warning of “be mindful not to touch the arrowhead.”

“What is it made of?” The only materials he knew that would give this color besides dyes were not in this world. There was no manyullyn or purple wood or gemstones besides diamonds and emeralds.

“It’s a tainted arrow.” She said calmly and in an instant he was wary.

“How did you make this?”

“With the wisdom of my other selves. But more importantly is what it is capable of. It’s stronger than any poison. A single scratch will permanently cripple a mortal, while a full strike will kill so thoroughly that there is no chance of rebirth or revival.” His mind jumped immediately to the only mortal in this world who would not be a part of the future he and Tom knew. Was this the reason Karl never arrived in the Land of Mianite?

“And to a God?” he asked, knowing she would not have specified the effects on a mortal if it only affected them.

“It won’t kill us. There is nothing that is capable of killing a God without further assistance or intervention. But it would weaken us to the point where we are hardly capable of anything, let alone accessing our powers.”

“You want me to use this on one of your brothers.” He stated, looking down at what could very well be the single most powerful weapon he’d ever held. All the talk of the Kikoku, the sword that could strike an immortal being, in Ruxomar and only Tucker had wielded it. In the end it hadn’t even mattered. It had been Jordan’s own arrows augmented with Ianite’s power that had brought World Historian down.

“Ideally. Though I leave it up to you as to where you think it will be the most useful. I cannot make another. So choose wisely. I trust you to make a good choice.” She said sagely. With a nod, Jordan carefully slid it into his quiver. It was enchanted so that it never ran out of arrows but that only applied to the most basic kind. He’d made his own as well. Arrows of poison, arrows of harming, and now the tainted arrow.

Ianite had said little of what they were to face upon finally finding her Father’s temple. Only that within it was a book that contained the spell she would need to reach her full strength and that they must find it before either of her brothers. Even with his earlier confrontation with Tom, it was unlikely Mianite or Dianite would get to the book first. That did not, however, mean they wouldn’t try to stop him and Ianite. He’d taken to carrying most of his most powerful weaponry and armor on him in some capacity. Between his inventory, the shulker box and the ender chest, he had access to his more important items at all times on his person.

“We’ll have to go through the Overworld to get to the Temple.” Ianite commented. “I expect by now the others will have rallied in some fashion to stop us if not slow us down. If your friends are waiting for us, will you be able to fight them?”

He took a deep breath and nodded. “I swore to you My Lady. I’ll do what I must to make sure we succeed.”

She smiled in return, a pleased glimmer in her eyes. “Thank you Captain. You have no idea how much your loyalty means to me.” Ianite extended her hand to him. The moment he took it the End blurred before his eyes. When the haze cleared they were in his tower next to his bed. What immediately caught his attention were the blocks of TNT scattered around. There was only one possible culprit.

“Tom.” He all but growled, pulling his sword from its sheath. A quick swipe of the blade broke the bundle of explosives, rendering it inert. As he stepped out from behind the stairs, he saw them both outside the window.

Tom and Karl stood on the path between the animal pens, both dressed in full enchanted diamond armor. Tom held a shimmering diamond sword while Karl had a shining trident. Jordan had hoped, in some deep seeded part of himself, that they wouldn’t be stupid enough to do this. Karl didn’t know any better. He didn’t know the reputation Jordan had built himself among the others. He was the weaponsmith, the artificer, the inventor, the one who pushed the very limits of what was possible with tools and weaponry. Tom however, did. Tom knew better than to challenge him like this.

“Remember Jordan,” Ianite murmured, laying a hand on his shoulder “From the depths and death of Balance arises Justice.” Then even quieter, so that her voice was no more than a whisper “It is their Gods who want me in chains.”

Jordan took a steadying breath and steeled himself, then stepped from the safety of his tower.

“Really Tom? Resorting to your old tricks?” He called out, twirling his sword in preparation for a fight.

Tom adjusted his own grip on his sword. “Until they stop working on you Sparkly pants.”

“Are you really sure you want to do this?”

“I’ll do what I have to so that you don’t change the future.”

“You mean the future where Dianite is evil? The future where we spend weeks hiding and hunting each other down like animals? Where we spend our time devising more and more complicated ways to kill one another? Building secret base after secret base and not trusting anyone? The future where You kill Dianite? That’s the future you want?”

Karl’s eyes widened, clearly Tom hadn’t told him much about the future they were fighting to defend. At first Tom said nothing then, slowly he said “If that’s the future that is supposed to happen then so be it.”

“You may be willing to live through that but I am not willing to put Ianite through that future again. I will not be the one who sentences her to a millennia of imprisonment.”

“You’re supposed to be the balanced one Jordan! The guy who doesn’t choose sides! That’s what you said Ianite was! Don’t you remember?”

“I have always chosen a side. It just wasn’t yours. I chose Ianite even when you had no idea who she was because I was always meant to choose her. It’s my responsibility to prevent her from suffering any more, in this world or any others.”

“I didn’t want to do this Jordan, not really. But you’re not giving me another choice.” Tom said, shaking his head in disappointment. He pulled a redstone torch from his inventory and it was only then that Jordan noticed the thin trail of redstone dust that spread from near Tom.

“So much for Team Ianite then.” Jordan sneered.

“We both know the price of loyalty has always been high. But right now, it seems like yours is just a bit higher.” He dropped the torch, diving into the ocean with Karl right behind him, relying on it to protect them from the worst of the blast.

Jordan barely had a moment to react before his farm exploded, scattering dirt and wheat across the island and the surface of the surrounding ocean. The rest of that half of the island went up seconds later, the blast strong enough to throw him against the tower. The enchantment on his armor protected him well enough but still drove the breath from his lungs. He struggled to get to his feet before the tower blew but then Ianite was there.

His ears were ringing and his eyes were blurring but he could still make out the hand that was reaching towards him to help him to his feet. Her lips were moving but he couldn’t hear what she was saying, nodding in hopes that she had asked a question. “I’m fine.” He managed, blinking through the disorientation. She’d kicked the redstone trail apart he realized, scattering the dust enough to prevent it from reaching the explosives in the tower.

She was saying something as she helped him stand, slinging his arm around her shoulder while putting an uncorked healing potion in his other hand. The last thing he heard before she teleported them away was Tom and Karl, screaming his name.

#mianite #mianitian isles #Mianite fanfiction #mianite is back yall #ianite #dianite #dark!Ianite #syndicate #Captain Sparklez #my writing #part 3 coming soon #words words words

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flufflecat · 4 years

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hey who wants to hear bernie ramble about mianite here we go! (dont read pls if you know me irl, this aint for you lol)

I MISS WATCHING MIANITE AND BEING 14 AND JUST SEEING A GROUP OF FRIENDS HAVING FUN AND PLAYING A GAME THAT OBVIOUSLY MADE THEM AND SO MANY OTHER PEOPLE HAPPY!!!

i havent watched mianitian isles in months and i!! am!! sad!!!

minecraft just has so many options for how to play and to mess around and do whatever and i was just so overwhelmed seeing people do this fun storyline and just... be friends and have fun. everyone was so nice and fun to watch and the audience was amazing and getting into the fandom was the greatest thing that ever happened to me. making friends and talking to people and posting my terrible just-starting-out art was so much fun and made me so damn happy. idk the feeling of community it all inspired was just the greatest thing...

i really miss it man. just being a kid and getting out of school and rushing to catch the tail end of the stream, or just waiting on the weekends for it to start so i could see toms pre-stream rave and frantically drawing fanart so that he might see it when he went through the FA tag afterward... and the way everyone responded to each others art and supported each other, and each of the streamers just had fun with it and had their own way to play and enjoy what was happening.

season 1 just really hit different man. watching it was just some sort of experience, and i dont even know why. season 2 was great and all but nothing will ever top things like the time tom went rogue and sparklez teamed up with sonja and tucker to build the biggest, ugliest wall around their base and get ready for an all out war. maybe it was just how everyone interacted and had fun with it and you could never predict what was gonna happen bc nothing was ever INTENDED to happen. it was all just a mess of strung-together plot out of whatever antics someone decided to pull that day. god it was so good, and all the personalities just made it perfect.

i still dont know what im saying but i need someone to wax philosophical with me about the emotions watching this series instilled in me and how it literally changed my life forever for reasons i cant put into words/understand. and how thinking about it randomly swings me between bouts of extreme happiness and the weirdest, most melancholy depression. idk i just wanna go back. i wanna live that part of my life again, just those specific moments.

#mianitian isles #mianite #personal #negative #??#sort of???#idk it all makes me depressed #the fall of the whole thing obviously makes me depressed bc it sort of helped lead into the like #interim minecraft-drought where all the old minecraft youtubers started falling from popularity #and the public interest just sort of faded. that still makes me really sad. i wish people had never stopped caring about minecraft #its nice to see people back into it now but those days were just the best #there was so much always and everyone just enjoyed it so much #i think mianite might be intrinsically linked to my depression #bc i was at my worst depression-wise during those years and those immediately after #so everything about it just ties in with that somehow #which sucks #cuz every time ithink about mianite #which is honestly something ilove more than anything else in the world and has memories that i would never trade #i just get depressed #i think im also sad that my art never got more recognition. or maybe that i never made enough art for it to get recognition.#my art DID get recognition which i am very thankful for #but idk i just have a weird ego thing tied to it. like if i just did more or branded myself back in 2014 i could like be a bigger artist #which is dumb but like. idk. im just sad over everything.#i just really miss all the old streamers more than anything #i miss tucker and especially sonja and i miss wag so so so much #idk i like karl and all but it just never feels right having him here instead of the ogs #i just really miss seeing them all be friends i think #it hurts #well at least ill always have jordan #im in a bad mood tonight but like a sad one not a mad one

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coolcattime · 4 years

Text

Still in the Night Part 2

Characters: Captain Capsize, Skipper Redbeard, Sonja Reid

Additional Tags: Shipwreck, Insomnia

Description: During a long night of insomnia, Captain Capsize is alerted of a shipwreck with a survivor in the water.

Part One Link

Archive of our Own Link

Sonja

“Wait, Sonja’s still on there, we can’t leave her!”

“If she hasn’t escaped herself, I have no use for her as a champion.”

***

“I’ll make sure she keeps breathing, Skipper. I won’t let someone die on this ship if it’s avoidable.”

“Good, if she wakes up send for me or the Captain, though I’m sure Capsize’ll come and check in at some point.”

***

“Captain, good to see you.”

“And you too, though I hope you don’t mind that I’m just here to check on her.”

Two voices come into my ears as feeling come back into my body. I don’t recognise them but given that I remember being on a sinking ship, maybe that shouldn’t be a surprise. I was abandoned on that ship, or at least I think I was. Everything feels foggy, though my head is pounding. I attempt to sit up and open my eyes though I barely manage either. While I manage to force my eyes open, they feel heavy and I really want to go back to sleep, and though I try to push myself into a sitting position, my arms falter under my own weight. The actions gain me the attention of the two in the room.

“Hey, be careful lass, you haven’t been out the water that long,” The woman (the captain I think) says as the other person rushes over to help me sit up. They’re wearing a uniform I don’t recognise, no sign of any godly symbols on them. Maybe that’s a good thing. I’m not sure how safe I’d feel on a Mianitee ship right now, though the same goes for every ship I suppose. At the very least, I’m still alive which hopefully means these people won’t hurt me. “Can you go and see if you can get a meal for her? I’d like to talk to her alone.”

“Of course, Captain,” He says before quickly exiting. The captain grabs a wooden chair, moving it next to the bed I’m in. I feel slightly nervous as she holds all the power on this vessel but she at least looks friendly. She has bronzed skin lightly brushed with freckles, with her dark brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. Something about her is familiar, though I can’t exactly say what. Maybe she’s one of the Mianitee captains I’ve met briefly in passing.

“I’m sure you must be confused waking up here, but let me explain, we pulled you out the water last night. It looked like the ship you were on before was destroyed. You were the only person we could find, I’m sorry,” She speaks carefully, like she’s considering every word. It does make me feel terrible knowing I was the only person they could find, though maybe that’s a good thing, everyone else escaped even if I was left behind. It doesn’t make me feel much better but it’s at least something. “But allow me to introduce myself, I am Captain Capsize. And who may you be?”

“Sonja, I’m Sonja,” My thoughts die in my throat as I realise who she is. She’s Lady Ianite’s captain, one of them anyway. Someone I’ve been warned about, been told would try to kill me on sight. But now she’s saved my life. She certainly doesn’t seem like she’s going to kill me, even if that may prove a naïve thought. “The ship I was on, it was attacked, I got locked in a room.”

“By the gods… Well, you’re safe now. We’re a couple days out from port in Ianerea but, if you don’t want to stay, they’ll be someone there brave enough to take you anywhere you want to go,” I nod as she gives a small chuckle. There’s a dryness in my throat as I consider my options. I don’t know if I should even consider travelling back to Lord Mianite’s capital, he won’t want a failure of a champion to return, but am I ever really going to be safe in Ianerea, Lady Ianite’s capital city? To people there, I’m a highly trained enemy soldier, why would they ever trust me enough to just let me wander around? Maybe I’ll find someone to take me to a settlement on the border, that might be my best shot at a normal life. “Are you okay, lass?”

“Yes, I… I’m just a long way from home,” It’s the only true thing I can say without giving away who I am, something I’m desperately hoping she hasn’t figured out on her own. She cautiously places a hand on my shoulder, a comforting smile on her face. It’s nice.

“Don’t worry, that’s a feeling everyone on this ship understands. But you’re safe here, I give you my word,” She says, looking at me with such a seriousness that I feel fully sure she isn’t lying to me. She hasn’t realised who I am and is going to protect me, at least while I’m still on board her ship. I’ve never had someone do such a thing for me before, Mianite expects his champions to protect themselves. It’s comforting to know I won’t need to fend for myself for at least a time. “But I’m afraid I have a ship to run, but I’ll send my Skipper down with some spare clothes for you and I’ll be back tonight.”

“I… Thank you,” I don’t know what else to say as she smiles and leaves the room. But deep down there’s still a fear set within me. If she finds out about my official position, she’ll suddenly be a lot less friendly. I don’t want that to happen. So I need to hide my title, hoping to the gods that no one will recognise me. Surely that can’t be as hard as my brain is telling me it’ll be.

#still in the night #mianite #mianite fanfiction #cat's fanfiction #sonja reid #captain capsize

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whompwhompminecraft · 4 years

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Sparklez!verse

Here’s my favorite obscure topic that like two people understand! So I’m going to explain it, starting with where the idea originated and how it has been developed in canon. Lastly I’ll end with some headcannons and things I’ve inferred.

Sparklez!verse is the idea that there are infinite universes with infinite versions of Sparklez. The idea originated in the season 2 finale of Mianite, in the book Sparklez received from Ianite.

An excerpt: “Worlds upon worlds of wonder have embraced my many new selves. I’m living a thousand new lives at once. And those are just the lives I’m aware of” --- “A man named Jordan Maron created the goddess Ianite in a world beyond worlds. And Jordan Maron looks just like you. He is one of your countless alternate selves.”

Cool concept! This not only solidifies what everyone had already suspected, that the Land of Mianite and Ruxomar were alternate dimensions, but that there were infinite dimensions out there, many in Minecraft and others on a more realistic, non-game Earth. Originally I believe this was to set up the idea that the main cast of Mianite could keep jumping into the void and end up in new worlds- thus continuing the series of Mianite for infinite seasons.

Obviously the series ended after season 2. So it never explored that further.

However! While the Mianite series never continued with the idea, Jordan did! It pops up again over a year later, in 2016, in an animated video titled Trollcraft Origins on the CaptainSparklez YouTube channel.

The video starts with a familiar character, Sparklez from the Crash Landing series. Currently he’s been ejected from his own spaceship and is now floating through space, in which he builds a nether portal on an asteroid and appears in a pink room where we see another Sparklez, narrating his own actions. His dialogue makes it clear that this is the Sparklez from the Trollcraft series.

This video creates a canon that each let’s play series has its own universe. Crash Landing Sparklez and Trollcraft Sparklez are from different series, but Crash Landing managed to travel into a different universe using a method I’ll cover a little later.

Two videos in this Sparklez!verse animation series later and we see a new Sparklez, one from the Pixelmon let’s play series.

This is the point where we really start to see a difference in their personalities. These animations, unlike ones prior, do not take scenes from Jordan’s let’s plays and animate them directly. The plot and voice lines are all original, and I assume written by Jordan or the animator, Mama’s Boy.

The plot is basically just “kill your double”, and I won’t bog this down with character motivation or specifics.

Point is, these different versions of Sparklez are now being written like their own separate characters. Crash Landing speaks in a very stilted tone and seems to have a poor grasp on social interaction (understandable given his universe of origin), Pixelmon is naive and frankly pretty stupid, and Trollcraft is honestly unremarkable and doesn’t have many lines. He’s mostly focused on killing Crash Landing Sparklez.

That brings us to the final animation in this little Sparklez!verse series, RIP Me. This one has Crash Landing and Pixelmon trying to kill Trollcraft, and popping in and out of different universes to do so. Here they jump through a portal into the void and collide with a new Sparklez, one wearing a red cape and floating listlessly beside Tucker, Tom and Sonja.

Hey we know this one, it’s Sparklez from Mianite! He also happens to be the Sparklez from the Ultra Modded Survival series and the original survival series with Jerry the slime. Earlier animations clearly show this. It’s a shame that Sparklez’s crazy journey has to end here but unfortunately Pixelmon stabs and kills him. That means canonically, the Sparklez that participated in the Mianite series is dead.

No season 3 for you.

It’s pretty obvious why Jordan wrote this ending. Everyone was spamming "when’s season 3″ and so he just killed off his character. Okay back on track. So we know there are unlimited universes and alternate versions of Sparklez. The ones we have seen or that have been canonically referenced are Jordan himself, Mianite/UMS/Jerry Sparklez, Spark from Ruxomar, Crash Landing Sparklez, Trollcraft Sparklez, and Pixelmon Sparklez.

However a major question is- “How do you get from dimension to dimension?” The simple answer is- the void

But the real answer is more complex and more up to interpretation.

First we need to answer, what is the void and what role does it play. In Minecraft it’s just pure blackness that if entered will kill you. It is the nothingness found at the bottom of worlds and in the End. In the Mianite series It’s full of little dots of light that look like stars. And it doesn’t kill you when you jump in, rather has you fall through it for an undetermined amount of time. The void never really ends, rather its occupants are just thrown from it into another universe. Is this the gods’ doing? Did they enter one of those points of light? Unclear. But it does establish the void as the substance between universes. Something that must be passed through.

Okay so here’s the thing. Tiem Reester (Mianite Sparklez and co) are not the only ones who travel through the void into different dimensions. I believe Crash Landing Sparklez has too. Only he doesn’t call it the void. He calls it space. And he uses a spaceship.

So is the void a vacuum of nothingness? Is it space? Yes. Both. Because why not. Now this is just a headcannon but it makes me think that Tiem Reester has been blessed by Ianite, the only god capable of seeing through the veil into different universes, and therefore do not die in the void. And Crash Landing Sparklez, who has not been blessed, needs a space helmet. And presumably a space suit, but there’s only so much you can do in animations.

So, next question. If Tiem Reester uses the void to get between dimensions, why do we see Crash Landing, Trollcraft, and Pixelmon using nether portals?

Honestly I think the answer was non-existent until April fools 2020.

In the April fools snapshot for Minecraft in 2020, we get something called Minecraft Infinite. Simply toss a book into a nether portal and gain access to a totally new dimension. And there we have it.

If you’re blessed by the goddess of balance and the universe than you can pass through the void into other worlds. But if you’re a godless heathen a book and a nether portal works just fine.

So, what’s the point of all this? Uhhh, so I can write fanfiction and draw fanart about it. I mean it’s pretty cool! There are so many possibilities. It’s like the OG Markiplier egos. You guys like that right? I mean, hell, there’s an alternate version of Sparklez that interacts with a Markiplier ego! Someone please talk to me about this or make content for it. I’m lonely, sitting here in a fandom of 1.

TLDR: Sparklez!verse is the idea that there are infinite versions of Sparklez, one for each series and even irl series. We get to see a few versions of Sparklez in some animations and Mianite Sparklez is dead forever, RIP in peace. And lastly that the void can get you between universes but isn’t the only way to do so. Also the definition of the void is up for debate. Also please get into this and make content for it, I feel like I’m going crazy.

#sparklezverse #captainsparklez #Captain Sparklez #jordan maron #mianite #trollcraft #crash landing #pixelmon #minecraft #yapping

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ianite-simp · 4 years

Text

dark!karl pt. 2

this part is a bit shorter because cliffhangers are lovely (also as an fyi this fic will likely be 6-8 parts long)

Things had improved for Karl. In the couple of weeks following the summoning of Mianite, he had felt like he was part of the trio of heroes more than ever. Tom and Jordan seemed to have a new level of respect for him, now that Mianite had finally showed up and actually accepted him as his champion. When they joked about their gods, he finally felt like he could join in their conversations. Suddenly, being around the others didn’t give him that bittersweet taste in the back of his mouth. He had managed to fill Tucker’s shoes and prove that he was his own person. He occasionally got to chat with Mianite, even, and their conversations were always the highlight of his day. Even just talking about trivial, little things was so nice, because it seemed like his young god really understood him. Aside from his continued struggles with controlling his limbs properly some of the time, things seemed to be getting better.

Oh, and he was probably going insane.

The whispers he had previously passed off as just his subconscious got louder, and far more persistent. He couldn’t go an hour without hearing a voice echoing in his head, a voice unlike any human one he had heard. It was low, with a faint rasp that made Karl shiver with discomfort, similar to hearing nails screeching along a chalkboard. No matter what he was doing, it would whisper to him, slowly growing louder and louder.

Do you really trust a god who doubted your strength, just like everyone else? Why put up with the mockery of those champions? You could be stronger than them, really make them respect you.

The offers continued, throughout both night and day. To sleep was impossible, because when his exhausted head hit the pillow of his bed each night, eyes falling shut instantly, the voice only grew louder - drowning out all other sounds. To do anything about it was equally impossible - how could he tell anyone about it without seeming like he was insane? Especially now, now that he had finally started to feel like he fit in with the others, like he was a proper champion.

So he settled with sitting out on a wide branch of his tree house each night, staring wearily at the star studded skies until the sun eventually rose, filling the sky with its warm glow. He had taken to snatching small swigs of a healing potion throughout the day that he kept in a flask by his side. It gave him a jolt of energy and kept him steadier on his feet, and no one seemed inclined to ask any questions about it. For the moment, it was all he could do.

You must not give the Darkness any powers, however you must conquer your fears.

Karl stared down at the words scrawled out in the book in front of him. “Conquer my fears? What fears?” He scratched at his head, looking up at Tom and Jordan for help. They were standing on a floating island of obsidian, his three pet llamas suspended in the air in front of him, in the strange alternate dimension where everything was upside down. He honestly hadn’t the faintest idea why they were there, but apparently it was important for fighting the Darkness. Something about the place creeped him out, the voice in his head seemed particularly vocal in its taunting. He was having more difficulties than usual with the trek it took to get to the various floating islands, and ended up straggling far behind the other two.

Karl… my friend. Always left behind, how sad.

Despite the chill he felt hearing the voice, it had become fairly familiar over the past few days, so he paid almost no attention to it.

“Oops.” Karl spun around to face Jordan, who was standing guiltily with his bow in hand, looking towards the spot where a llama had just hung.

“Did you really just kill my llama, Sparklez?” Karl gave him the best dead-pan look he could conjure up. Before he could answer, there was a victorious shout from Tom.

“I’ve killed another one! Oh, not quite.” Karl rolled his eyes, pointing towards the book,

“Guys, I don’t think I’m supposed to kill them. That’s what the Darkness wants.”

Jordan shot him a doubtful look, as he said, “But we had to kill our pets, shouldn’t you?”

Karl was about to respond when the voice, louder than ever, echoed in his ears.

Oh, Karl… you must give up something you love or you’ll never leave. You have a choice. Join me, join the shadows… join the darkness … And we will rule together one day… Or … slay your pets… All of them. What will it be?

“Hey, mate, you good?” Tom’s voice brought him back to his senses. What was he supposed to say? No man, not doing great, just chatting with pure evil.

“Yeah, fine.” He raised his eyes to the two llamas still hanging there. It just seemed wrong to kill them. It went against everything Mianite seemed to stand for, surely his god wouldn’t want him to kill them. Besides, refusing to kill two llamas couldn’t really be an issue, right? “I won’t kill them, Mianite wouldn’t want that, would he now? Would Ianite want that, Sparklez, Tom?” Placing a hand on the hilt of his sword, Karl waited for the others to contradict them. It seemed like they wanted to argue, but instead Jordan let out a low sigh, and waved for them to follow him back down the path.

“Might as well get going then,” he called over his shoulder, already nimbly making his way down. As Karl slowly began picking his way down the path after the others, the voice, Darkness, spoke again in his head - sounding decidedly smug.

Welcome, Karl. You may think you are new to this land, but your spirit has been here forever. A true demi-god of this land. Welcome to the dark side. Your powers banish Mianite from the higher realm.

“Don’t know what the hell you’re talkin’ about man, but if you could kindly fuck off.” Karl muttered under his breath, though the words kept echoing in his mind. Banish Mianite? I didn’t actually do that, right? That’s impossible, he’s just trying to mess with me.

Don’t pretend you didn’t choose my side Karl. We’re on the same team now, you and I.

Karl shook his head, as though that could get the voice out of his head. Like hell I am you little prick, like hell I am. He looked up, realizing that they had already reached the shore of Tom’s island. But it wasn’t normal - the sky was pitch black and strange orbs of light flickered in the air. The water of the ocean even bubbled strangely. As he surveyed the strange sight, he felt his stomach plummet. These weren’t his islands anymore, these were something twisted and tainted almost beyond recognition. The voice of the Darkness echoed overhead, saying something indistinguishable. Before Karl could react, packs of monsters began to appear from the deep shadows along the volcano, converging quickly on the trio. With jumbled shouts, Karl saw the others get swept away in the tide, each working to find a position that would suit their strengths. Unable to fight his way to a new spot, Karl frantically slashed at the mobs surrounding him, unable to tell if he was even landing hits in the darkness surrounding him. He felt his armour being scratched and battered from all sides, his exposed patches of skin already bearing several slices. His legs felt like lead, he could barely move, and his arms weren’t much better.

I could help you, Karl. You could be just as agile, just as strong as your companions. Even stronger, in fact. You just have to allow me in for a moment.

The voice rang coyly in his ears. “No, I don’t want whatever it is you’re selling, man.” Grunting with the exertion, Karl continued slashing at the monsters surrounding him, praying that no vexes would be attracted to his area. He wouldn’t be able to handle them on top of everything else.

Just give me one moment Karl, and you’ll be more powerful than you ever thought powerful.

Unable to even answer, Karl felt his arms growing even heavier. But he couldn’t turn to the Darkness for help. He couldn’t betray Mianite like that, not his god. That would be wrong. I can’t last much longer with the amount on my back. I’m going to get overwhelmed unless Tom and Jordan help out. For a split second, as a vex scored a nasty slash across his hand, Karl felt his resolve weaken. Maybe, just maybe… No, I can’t. I’m Mianite’s champion, if I die, I die protecting him and his honor.

Half a second was all that the Darkness needed. Karl let out a strangled, choking scream as his legs collapsed underneath him.

#inspired by the cool bros of nerf house #mianite #mianitian isles #lrakinidas #captainsparklez #synhd #mianite fanfic #writing #amethyst writing time

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discordantplains · 5 years

Text

Criminal

"So what are we doing now?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Captain Captain,” came the correction.

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

"Teach me how to do that."

"No."

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

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

"What was that?"

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

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

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

"Captain Captain." Captain Captain grumbled.

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

"No."

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

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

"I could give you a sick nickname!"

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

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

"Captain Captain."

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

"Captain Captain."

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

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

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

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

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

"Captain Captain," he deadpanned.

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

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

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

"Captain Captain."

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

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

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

"Captain Not-Sparklez"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Better question, Tom humored: who cares?

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

Tom tumbled onto dirt.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aye,” Captain Captain remarked.

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

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

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

….

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

SkeleTom.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Stop drooling, it's disgusting."

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

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

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

….

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

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

"You want me to burn this one?"

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

"Unless ye can't. Ye can, can’t ya?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Not even the Gods could stop me."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A loud click and snap echoed through the house.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A squeak escaped him when Honey increased her pressure.

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

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

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

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

"I'm taking him in."

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

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

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

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

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

“Reconsider that statement.”

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

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

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

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

"Let go of me! Tucker!"

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

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

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

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

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

"Help me!"

….

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

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

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

Speaking of crow-like meals in Ihatchu...

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

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

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

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

No one had rescued Tom that night.

...

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

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

"Be quiet."

...

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

...

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

...

"Stop moving."

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

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

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

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

....

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

All of this because of a stupid house?

...

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

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

...

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For this?

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

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

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

A dangerous inferno was burning inside of him.

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

She imprisoned him. She did it.

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

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

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

"CAPTAIN CAPTAIN!"

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

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

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

"How could you be so ignorant?"

...

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

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

...

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

Honey's voice cut through his heaves.

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

...

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

And when she did.

...

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Lady, let go--" Tom started.

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

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

"Do you think you've learned anything?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you think you've learned anything?"

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

She kept pushing. "What did you learn?"

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

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

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

"Get out of my sight."

...

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

PLOT | ABOUT | CHARACTERS

#discordant plains #mianite #mianite fan fiction #mianite fan art #SynHD #captain captain #Honey Badger

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shabaababa · 4 years

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oh boy it's my graduation tomorrow hope nothing gives me a panic attack before that time to go buy some extra clothes after mum got way too stressed out stressing me out as well anyway clothes yes oh hey cool game i have wanted for a long time it's half price yay i got it time to head back home and check what's on discord hope it's nothing bad and most certainly not something about the server i have put countless hours on building up again and putting actual money into to boost it hope no one is bringing up drama from october last year that would not end well anyway time to go check discord and oh great it's just that and i am having an actual panic attack for the same reason i had a panic attack last december isn't that fun my hands are shaking i can't do shit and i am crying my eyes out all a day before my graduation oh can't explain it to nephew so he calls mum who manages to calm me down so we could go swimming on this extremely hot day which makes everyone feel like shit and we go swimming and everything is fine but nephew starts his complaining again and mum gets stressed out again oh no and then we go back home and the server thing has still been on my mind the entire time because it is me who has to deal with this and what's this i can't find the post myself even though it's main tagged and i can't search for blog is this babie's first time being blocked i should feel honored i am now popular enough with people who won't listen to get blocked ain't that fun but oh hey mianite started it's hilarious and gets me to calm down a bit more but now i have a fuckton of shit to do that i would have done had i not had a panic attack you you know who you are fuck you now i'm running out of time for an event that was supposed to be happy thank you for ruining my whole week but it's fine you won't see it anyway am i guilting you yes absolutely i am trying to build up a place you people completely nuked and i am not sure if you know how many people have had panic attacks traumas and big anxiety because they were attacked misunderstood or neglected in your server i am not making this up but you guys over at castle hedgehog won't listen cause every person i would list would be a villain who has done something wrong and has been kicked as a result you can't even see how toxic you guys are but yeah this is just a vent if you made it to the end congrats i couldn't be bothered to use any readable text sorry anyway i have to go to sleep

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infighting-of-ancient-gods · 5 years

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Part 14

Jordan wasn’t one to just hang around the house very often, really it wasn’t even a common occurrence for him to just take the day to himself. However, in all honesty, he was quite frankly exhausted. The last week or so had been busy, and not in the way a normal week living in SMP was usually busy.

He had taken his monthly visit to Mianite about five days ago, staying for almost three days. Now, his visit to Mianite was almost always the best part of his month, but it was an absolutely exhausting trip to take. Despite that it never really put him out of commision. What really did him in was what happened when he got back, because he was barely back in SMP one day before Connor and Ty of Schlatt & Co. approached him.

“Sparkles, you're a helpful dude, right? A real go getter?”

“I suppose so.” Jordan already didn’t like where this was going. He had been asked over and over to invest in Schlattcoin and if he was given one more marketing pitch he might explode. He wasn’t specifically expecting what came next though.

“Good, good, cause we could use a bit of help!” Ty stood nervously behind Connor as he launched into an explanation, “So, Schlatt’s headed out of town for a business trip tomorrow and he wanted us to clean out and organize our storage room while he was gone, but it just so happens that a, uh… emergency arose with one of our investors this morning, and me and Ty here need to handle it, like, fast, before Schlatt gets back in a few days and gets word of what’s going on.”

“I’m not quite seeing where I play into this.” Jordan stated. He wasn’t lying, he really didn’t see where this was going, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t interested.

“Well, you see, since we have this emergency to take care of we’re a bit worried we won’t be able to get around to the storage room, and then Schlatt’ll start asking questions, yada yada, not a good time for anyone. So, we were interested in perhaps… outsourcing the job.”

Jordan raised an eyebrow, “Is that so?”

“We thought you might be a good candidate, you know? Since you’re such a helpful guy and all, and very organized at that.” Connor was obviously trying to use flattery to win him over, “And we’d be willing to pay.”

“By the hour?”

“If you insist.”

Jordan had agreed to the job without asking too many questions. The job didn’t sound hard, and he wasn’t about to turn down a chance to collect some extra diamonds. He learned when he came into the Schlatt & Co building the next day that he probably should’ve asked a bit more.

Their storage room was huge, and it was the most disorganized mess he had ever seen, as if someone had gone in the day before to purposefully make a mess of things. However he had already committed to the job, so he went forward with it, not quite comprehending his mistake until an hour into his work.

In all it took almost fifteen straight hours of work to get things the way Connor wanted, alone. Sure, he earned like sixty diamonds for the work, but was it worth it? Maybe. Probably not.

So, after all of that, he was finally taking a break. A day to himself, reading through a book Waglington had lent him awhile ago that he hadn't found the time to get to until now. At least, he thought he would be taking the day all to himself, but a familiar tapping at the window just had to prove him wrong.

He sighed and pushed himself out of bed. He opened the window and a grey and yellow cockatiel sauntered in proudly an envelope hanging from it's beak.

He stroked the birds head gently, "Hey there, Pepper, what's Tucker sent you with?" He took the envelope from the parrots beak and the bird immediately abandoned him and flew deeper into the house to find Jordan's own bird, a blue and yellow macaw which he had named Jay.

The two birds had been adopted and trained as a system of communication between him and his friends back in Mianite after he had left, but they didn't really end up sending letters all that often so they had really just become glorified pets. He realized that because Tucker had opted to send a letter at all, it was probably fairly important.

He opened the envelope hesitantly and unfolded the paper inside with a sigh.

'Jordan,

So, there was a bit of an incident after you left, and I think it's something you'd probably like to know about. Actually it's probably a pretty big deal that we all need to talk about. I really think you should come back as soon as possible. You know I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important.

Plus, Mianite wants to talk to you. He didn't say what about, but it's probably about what happened today. So there's that.

Hope to see you soon.

- Tucker'

Jordan reread the letter to make sure he hadn't missed anything. It was too vague for him to even guess what might've happened, but Tucker's handwriting was far messier than it usually was. He must've been writing quickly, or perhaps he was just that upset over whatever mystery event had gone down in Jordan's absence. Either way there was a sense of urgency to the letter despite how tame it may have seemed on the first read through.

Jordan sighed once more. He couldn't leave Tucker and the others hanging, but he definitely wasn't prepared to take the journey back to Mianite again, especially any prolonged stay. Disappearing for more than maybe two days after already having been gone for three days would be suspicious.

He sat down at his desk and reread the letter one more time. He had to go, that was it.

He decided he would take another two days to rest and prepare himself, then he would go and figure out just what had Tucker so worked up. He would figure out what had happened, do what he could, talk to Mianite, and then get back home as soon as possible.

With his mind made up he went to go hunt down the parrots.

#Mianite #smplive #smpblr #captain sparklez #captainsparklez #jordan maron #iijeriichoii #connoreatspants #iamty #iamtyyy #writing #main fic #crossover #crossover au

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mianite-3-unofficial · 5 years

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101

Jericho’s lip was bleeding. Blood still tasted like iron, familiar and thick. Three hours of reading, gnawing his lip in concentration, then three hours of trying and failing and trying and failing to do anything with that knowledge. Gijsbert’s study was a comfortable place, though, a top floor view of Vatredas shining through the windows. Most of the room, however, was bookshelves and stacks of random books, two cluttered desks and other tables, and a tea set with a familiar looking design on the cups.

“What’s it supposed to feel like?” He asked. Gijsbert (who had been standing right in front of him, right by the target he was supposed to teleport to) kind of wiggled in his place.

“Well, it’s, like... dancing. To me, at least. Like you’re dancing without moving. Maybe you could try dancing. A little, ya know,” Gijsbert twirled, waving his arms about like an idiot, robes swishing. Jericho sighed. He shut his eyes, moving just so, thinking of that target on the ground...

...he opened his eyes. He hadn’t moved an inch.

“Nope. Nada. Dancing? You’re sure?”

Gijsbert nodded.

“I have to move while doing my magic, or it doesn’t work. It’s why I wear these robes- makes moving easy. And, well, I can’t stand tight clothes. Make my skin crawl. But yes, dancing, dear. It can be anything from a couple hand movements, to... well, whatever the magic moves me to do.

Jericho looked inside himself. He felt disappointed and salty and sad and a little sweaty, not exactly like dancing.

“What’s your favorite thing to do, with your magic, I mean?” Jericho asked, desperate to change the subject from his failure.

Gijsbert smiled, and disappeared with a ruffle of robes.

“Really?” Jericho asked, spinning around and trying to find him, “turning invisible?”

“Not invisible, no,” Gijsbert said from... somewhere, “just thralling you to be unable to look at me. Dunno what I’ll call it, but it’s cool, huh?”

“Yeah, sure.” Jericho wished he had his sword, or even a knife, something he could swing with. Just in case. Gijsbert appeared behind him, Jericho jumping.

“Shit, man!”

Gijsbert laughed, prancing back to stand by the target in a flutter of robes.

“Go on, just... energy from one place to another. Like leaping from place to place. Do what... do what feels right, okay? And then we can take a break. Okay hon?”

Jericho’s cheeks turned an impressive shade of red.

“Don’t patronize me,” he growled.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Now, focus.”

Jericho shut his eyes. He tried imagining the target on the ground, Gijsbert next to him, but all he could see was the darkness behind his eyes. Dark and fluttering, like the void all around him. Still falling. Falling to somewhere. To the target on the floor. That’s where he would fall to. He clenched his fists, as if still holding onto Sonja’s rope, inhaled, and opened his eyes-

-To find he hadn’t moved at all.

“Fuck!” He screamed, stomping his foot on the ground, “God fucking damn it!”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Gijsbert cooed, “nobody gets it right on their first try. Let’s take a break, maybe have a drink-“

“No! I need to get this right!”

“You can try again after a break. I don’t want you passing out like yesterday.”

“I can do this, I need to do this-“

“And why’s that?” Gijsbert snapped, “What’s more important than your wellbeing?”

Jericho pulled at his hair, “Everything! Getting home, finding my friend, freeing my god, that’s more important than me, that’s bigger than me! So I need to do this!”

The door flew open. Gijsbert flicked his hand, Jericho whirling around to see Tom, standing there frozen, a knife in hand.

“What are you doing here?” Gijsbert and Jericho said in unison. They looked at one another.

“You know Tom?”

“Yeah. He screamed at me last night, when I brought you home, I really did frighten the poor thing. Now, what have you to say?”

“Uh,” Tom started, body free from the thrall. He fidgeted. “I’m not here to kill you-“

“That’s comforting.”

“I’m here to check up on Jericho, really. But Ladia wanted me to call you a fascist- no, uh, facis, facicious? Wait! I got it- she wants me to call you a ‘Facetious Harlot’. So, yeah! Get roasted, wizard bitch!”

Gijsbert gasped, overdramatic, and placed a hand to his chest.

“Me? Facetious?”

“I don’t know what it means,” Tom said, “I think harlot is fancy for slut, though.” He paused. “Is that what you two have been getting up to?”

Jericho’s face turned bright red, and he buried his face in his hands.

“No, Tom, I’m, I’m learning magic. He’s teaching me magic.”

Tom smirked, “Well, is he magic in bed?”

“Oh, you fiend!” Gijsbert exclaimed, laughing, “I certainly am, but you mustn’t mention it around such sensitive ears.”

Maybe Gijsbert was Tom’s double, Jericho reasoned, both of them annoying as fuck.

“Tom, why are you here? Just, can you go now?”

“Nah, man, I’m here to make sure you’re not being an idiot.”

“Making sure I’m not an idiot? That’s like the blind leading the blind, man.”

Tom looked down at the knife he was carrying. Who was dumb enough to give him a knife?

“I want to make sure you’re okay. Are you?”

Jericho gnawed at the inside of his lip. Gijsbert’s eyes bore into him, asking him a silent, impossible question. What it was, he didn’t know, but he couldn’t quit. To him, there was nothing more to the world than the island he once called home, the four of them, exploring infinity, and Mianite’s temple out in the sea.

“Yes,” he insisted, “But... stick around. I’m taking a short break. Maybe we could talk.”

Tom smiled, running his thumb over the runes of the blade.

“Yeah. That’d be nice,” Tom stepped into the study, whistling at the view from the windows. Gijsbert took Jericho’s hand, squeezing ever so slightly.

“Good, Jericho. Talk to your friend for a bit, do some reading. I’m going out. I’ll see you in an hour.”

“Thank you,” Jericho found himself whispering.

“He really is a good friend,” Gijsbert replied, a hint of longing in his voice. Suddenly, he was gone, nothing but the sound of rippling fabric signifying his departure.

Tom was sat at a desk, sitting upside down in the chair, holding a book.

“What is all this shit, anyways?”

Jericho smiled, sitting down on the floor in front of his friend.

“An upside down book, dear Thomas.”

Tom rolled his eyes, flipping the book around with a smile. Jericho’s eyes wandered to the window, staring out among the buildings of Vatredas, wealthy, strong homes. Every single person passed by without looking up, enraptured by their small lives.

And maybe, just maybe, he saw Gijsbert walking proud and lonely down the cobble streets.

And maybe, just maybe, he saw Sonja somewhere on the horizon, coming back to them.

#iijerichoii #synhd #thesyndicateproject #gijsbert the librarian #mianite #mianite season 3 #syndicate

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mianite-season-3 · 6 years

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Unofficial Mianite S3 - Chapter 13

Chapter 13 - The Purge

Tom took a silent breath to steady his shaking nerves. He shifted a piece of armor that was digging into his side, wiping his sweaty palms on a piece of his shirt that was sticking out underneath his chestplate. The zombie man leaned his head out from behind the wall he was up against, trying to stay small and avoid drawing unwanted attention.

Distantly, he heard a clash of weapons and although he couldn’t see anyone fighting, he was certain all of his enemies were locked in a three way fighting match. He had seen Sonja running in the general direction of the noises not long ago, and he and Jordan had an unofficial pact with each other. And surely, Tucker would be right by his girlfriend’s side, fighting along with her.

Then, he heard a small ting behind him and wasn’t given any time to turn around before he was struck first along his side, then a straight shot right onto the back of his head. A harsh clang echoed along with a rather manly cry of pain as he collapsed to the ground onto his side. Tom groaned and looked up at his attacker, going cross eyed as he stared down the sword point nearly nicking his nose.

Smirking above him stood Tucker, looking all too smug about his sneak attack. Still holding his sword a bit too close to Tom’s face for comfort, he held out his other hand to his friend expectantly.

“Paper, please.” Tom growled but dug into his pockets and pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper, chucking it into Tucker’s hands. He grinned and stuffed it into his pocket without regard for keeping it neat.

Tucker saluted to his friend and spun around, quickly disappearing behind the craggy mountainside. Tom huffed, clambering to his feet and jogging around the mountainside towards the center of the valley, hidden by the hills and mountains. He caught wind of a faint clash of metal on metal and assumed he would be seeing someone else at the Quartz House soon.

He approached the Quartz House, a rather impressive building made entirely of Quartz and pushed the door open, running over to Martha who was sat on a bench eating a loaf of bread. She lifted her head and looked at him with mirthful eyes. The mystic grabbed a sheet of paper and an ender pearl from a stack beside her and scribbled his name on it while he impatiently tapped his foot waiting for her.

“You’re not on your game today, are you Tom?” she smirked, to which he huffed, swiping the paper and ender pearl out of her hands, turning his back to her as she giggled.

“Who’s winning?” Tom asked, fingering the crumbled pieces of paper in his left pocket while he stuffed the new one in his right. Martha took a second to respond, rustling papers behind him.

“Tucker’s in the lead with twelve. Sonja with ten, and Jordan with seven.” Tom grumbled. He had eight. He really had to pick up the pace. He didn’t even know why he was doing so terribly—he had been the one most excited for the Purge in the first place!

A creaky door slammed open and Sonja came in, hair tousled and flying away without a helmet, holding a broken wooden hilt and a sour look on her face. Martha took in her appearance and stood, kneeling to search through a chest beside her bench and came out with a dull wooden sword and a diamond helmet, handing both to the younger woman before grabbing another sheet of paper and an ender pearl.

“Jordan beat me again. Tom, control him. That’s the fifth time this Purge. I don’t remember him being that ruthless. That’s your influence!” Sonja accused, only half joking through her exhaustion. Tom merely shrugged with a cheeky grin and pushed his way past her, out onto the stoop of the Quartz House before he chucked his ender pearl towards the mountain across from the entrance, seeing a diamond clad figure duck into a hole in the peak.

“I’m gonna get you, Tom!” he heard Sonja call before the air was sucked out of his lungs and he was thrust through space in an instant, appearing slightly higher than he had aimed with a ghostly pop. Tom stumbled and felt his knees jolt as he steadied himself, readying his sword once he got his balance.

“Yeah, you wish Sonj,” Tom mumbled to himself, dropping down in front of the hole someone had disappeared into. He snuck in, trying to stay silent as he figured out where his opponent was, if he was still in the tunnel.

Then, as he was feeling around in the darkness with only a sliver of light remaining from the outside, he ran face first into a wall and recoiled too far back, landing solidly on his backside and staring up at the ceiling.

“Ow! Fuck,” Tom groaned, taking his helmet off to rub at the sizable bump forming on his forehead.

“Tom? That you?” A voice hissed from the darkness somewhere above. Tom tilted his head back so far it hurt his neck, and he caught a flicker of movement, a reflection off an armored individual hovering above him.

“Jordan?” There was a loud clunk as the person leapt down and landed on the cave floor, looming over him. Tom shoved his helmet back on his head and scrambled to his feet. “Dude, Tucker’s winning by like, a lot, we need to find him so we can get back our lead!”

Jordan nodded, creeping up to the entrance of the cave, squinting against the light. He rubbed his eyes and shaded his eyes as he glanced around the valley. He didn’t see anyone climbing the mountainside, or at the summits, but as he watched he did see Martha exit the Quartz House and jog over to a small contraption beside it. A couple blocks of iron and noteblocks in the middle, Martha pulled a lever and sound rang out. Loud enough for even someone on the outskirts of the valley to hear.

“We’ve only got five minutes left! Shit, there’s no way we’re going to find Tucker in time,” Tom swore, coming up behind his friend after hearing the siren.

“Nope, not a chance. Hey, how many papers do you have?”

Tom grinned sideways. “Eight. And so do you.”

Jordan smirked. “Battle to the death?”

“Hell yeah.”

Jordan narrowly dodged a sparta kick off the side of the mountain, jumping down onto a lower outcropping and nimbly making his way down the cliff. Tom shouted after him, clambering down in a chase after his friend as they found a more stable battlefield.

Once he had a solid footing on the ground at the base of the mountain, Jordan spun around and shoved Tom as he landed beside him, causing him to stumble. He ran after him, sword held tightly as he swung.

“I’m not gonna come in last!” Tom let out a battle cry and ran forward, blocking Jordan’s strike and swinging wildly in return. The two traded blows for a while until Tom left his guard down at just the right moment, and Jordan slammed the hilt of his sword into his forehead then swept his legs from under him, holding the dull weapon against Tom’s throat.

“I think you are. Now, paper, please...” Jordan held out his hand with a smug look on his face, then let his eyes drift upwards. He trailed off as he caught sight of a figure standing above them, looking down from a bluff. Her long hair fluttered softly in the quiet breeze, and when he met her eyes she smiled. He opened his mouth to call out to her.

“I’m not out yet!” Tom kicked Jordan’s legs out from under him, rolling to avoid him as he fell heavily to the ground. Jordan flipped onto his back and crossed his eyes to look at the sword now posed to cut off his nose. “Come on, cough up the paper!”

“No, Tom, look!” Jordan leaned back to try and look up at the figure, but he couldn’t get a good angle.

“Quit stalling! Paper! Now!” Tom demanded. Jordan hurriedly dug his paper out of his pocket, tearing it in the process and throwing the ripped half at his friend, ducking away from the sword and crawling to his feet. He vaguely heard Tom grumbling about it but he didn’t care. He lifted his head sharply back towards the ledge.

Nobody there. Jordan’s shoulders fell, as did his spirits. She had been right there... hadn’t she?

“Uh, Jordan? Jardon!” A hand clapped him on the shoulder and he was yanked around to face his friend. Tom saw the look on his face and immediately dropped his volume. “What’s the matter?”

“I...Ianite, she was just there!” Jordan pointed upwards, and Tom followed with his eyes and pursed his lips.

“Uh, there’s nobody there, Jordan.”

Jordan shrugged, staring at the ground dejectedly. Grimacing, the zombie man gently placed his hand on the small of Jordan’s back and guided him in the direction of the Quartz House. “I think you hit your head when I knocked you down. Why don’t you go take a break in the Quartz House? I’m gonna try and find one of the others before time’s up!”

Before Jordan could say anything, Tom had already run off with a yell, calling for Tucker or Sonja to come out and fight him in one final battle.

The older man was reluctant to agree, but time was almost up for this Purge, and he had just lost all motivation to keep going, even if it meant he would lose. In a way, though, he felt it was an appropriate punishment—he hadn’t called out for his goddess. His tongue had frozen and his voice disappeared. If he had only been able to force that one word out, then he could have kept her there. Catching her, keeping her grounded with just the pure energy that the name contained.

And she could explain everything, all the questions that were floating in the back of everyone’s mind. Why was the land so messed up, unnatural in its chaotic organization? Why was it that they could not find Andor, or Mot, or even Dianite? Why did Star hate her, when he knew his lady was not capable of what the young girl claimed she had done?

One question haunted him above all, however—why wouldn’t she answer his prayers? They had all tried praying to their gods and even to each others out of sheer desperation. Not once did they receive even a sign that they had heard.

But she had appeared. Silent and beautiful, just watching. He couldn’t have imagined it, like Tom claimed. Jordan had seen her before he’d been knocked to the ground. Even with the knock to the head, he knew he hadn’t hallucinated her. Her energy, her quintessence, it was so overwhelming yet almost nonexistent. Familiar yet so new. And so, so frustrating.

“Jordan! Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Martha exclaimed in concern as he walked into the Quartz House, putting a soft hand on his cheek and another on his forearm. He shrugged with a small smile.

“I might have,” he replied, taking a seat on a bench and beginning to undo the straps of his armor. The mystic, though her curiosity was palpable, let him be for the moment. Looking at her clock, she made her way outside and rang the noteblock bell once more, a loud siren to let those in the valley know the Purge was officially over.

Soft footsteps and a cough invaded the silence that fell after the bell had rung, and Jordan looked up with eyebrows furrowed, glancing all around for whoever had made the noise. Off to his right a loud slam and Jordan sprang to his feet, grabbing the dull wooden sword he’d been using for the Purge to ward off the intruder.

The so-called “intruder” looked startled at the outburst, then he smirked as he ripped a chunk of bread from the loaf in his hands and took a bite. “Nice to see you too, Sparklez.”

“Wag!” Jordan grinned, throwing the sword to the side and running up to the former wizard. “You’re back! I thought you were gonna be gone for the Purge?”

He shrugged, rolling a piece of bread between his fingers before popping it into his mouth. “Yeah, well, things didn’t go as planned. Just got back not too long ago, actually.”

Jordan looked at him expectantly, feeling slightly discouraged by the somber look on his face. “With good news, I hope?”

His silence was a better answer than Wag would be able to say. Jordan heaved a deep sigh. “I think it’s better I explain once everyone’s back, so I only have to tell the story once,” the wizard stated, moving and plopping down next to Jordan’s abandoned armor pieces.

Knowing he would just have to wait, Jordan busied himself for the few minutes it took to get everyone together to grab his normal equipment and began strapping it on.

Tucker came back first, storming into the Quartz House missing a helmet and a boot, but with a wide smile on his face. Something told Jordan Tom had had that final battle he’d wanted, and it hadn’t gone well.

“Oh, Wag, you’re back!” Tucker panted, out of breath. His friend nodded, grinning slightly at his disheveled appearance. “Too bad you didn’t get back a bit earlier.”

The wizard shrugged, finishing off the loaf of bread. “We’ll have another.”

Tucker opened his mouth to ask Wag what he’d found on his trip, but Sonja and Tom bursting into the Quartz House took his attention away for a moment.

“You fucking suck.” Tom pointed at Tucker with his sword, glaring hard. Tucker smirked back, waving his own weapon casually.

“You wanna go? I’ll kick your ass again if you want,” Tucker gloated. Tom took the bait, lunging forward and swatting the dull sword away, bringing them into a duel. The others, quickly getting out of the way of the crossfire, rolled their eyes. Then, as if in slow motion, they saw Tom bring his weapon back hard in a backswing just as Martha opened the door and stepped inside. A strong thwack was heard and everyone winced.

Martha dropped down in a crouch out of reflex, hand immediately going to the bump on her head that was already forming. Tom started apologizing, as did Tucker after a nudge from Jordan and Sonja, but she just hissed that they shouldn’t fight in the Quartz House, and that each of them would be deducted points if it happened again.

The two shut up after that.

Martha, after affirmation from Wag that her head wasn’t bleeding, went to sit down behind the table, tapping it. “Papers for the final count.”

Everyone who’d been part of the Purge dug out crumpled, ripped papers from their pockets and told her their final totals - Tucker had 13, Sonja 10, Tom 9 and Jordan in last with 8.

“That point is rightfully mine and you know it, you sneak,” Jordan accused, only half joking. Tom stuck his tongue out playfully.

“You let your guard down. Don’t do that next time!”

Sonja raised an eyebrow. “Wait, I thought you two had a truce?”

Jordan shrugged. “We did.”

Neither offered up further explanation—it wasn’t exactly an isolated event. They were smart, they could figure it out.

“Alright, all the counts were correct. I’m pleased to announce that the first Purge winner of this new world is Tucker!” He pumped his fist excitedly.

“Hell yeah!”

“Second place is Sonja, third place is Tom, and last place is Jordan. Really lost your game at the end there, huh?” Martha asked sympathetically. Jordan sighed, nodding his head slightly.

Wag coughed, drawing attention to himself. “So, while the Purge results are very interesting, I’m afraid I’ve gotta bring the mood down.”

All eyes now on him, he took a breath and glanced around at his friends. “As I’m sure you can guess, I didn’t find anything out there. No animals. No trees. No crops. No gods. No Andor. No Mot. No Devisor Gaines. It’s just a weird barren wasteland.”

“So that means, no food...” Sonja slumped, looking over at the chest behind Martha where they all knew all they had was cooked fish and loaves of bread. They were all sick of it.

“Damn it, I’d literally kill for a steak or pork chop right now.” Tom growled, crossing his arms.

“You’d need to.” Everyone looked at Tucker confused. “You know, cause cow.”

In response, Tom smacked him upside the head.

Ignoring the squabble they got into once again, Jordan stepped towards Wag. “We’ve got to go out further. There has to be something out there. There just has to be.”

“There isn’t, Jordan. We’ve gone on I don’t even know how many scouting missions in the last few weeks. If we haven’t found anything by now, I don’t know if it exists. We all know this, but this world is weird. Animals may not spawn like normal. We know monsters don’t.” The four shuddered collectively, remembering the first night where they really hadn’t lit the valley well enough. Mobs were covering every inch of land. They had just been lucky they’d had workable bases.

Jordan furrowed his brows. “But, we can’t just give up! There has to be something! If we could just find one tree, we could get some saplings, and apples. Or just one chicken! There has to be one!” His voice pitched up as he slide into hysterics for a moment. He then cleared his throat. Wag shook his head.

“You’d think we’d have run into something by now.”

Martha cut into the debate before it could escalate. “Um, I did have an idea that I mentioned to Wag...”

The wizard’s eyes widened. “Martha... I thought we decided we weren’t gonna-”

“We don’t have much of a choice! Eventually we’re going to get so sick of bread and fish that we’d rather starve. If we can avoid that, I think we should at least discuss it!” Wag raised his arms in defeat, leaving the mystic to turn to the rest of the heroes. Tucker and Tom paused in their childish fight when they felt the mood in the room shift.

“So... it’s not something you guys are going to like. But I really think it will be best for all of us, in the long run. Hopefully we’ll be able to get food, find our other friends and figure out where the gods are all in one fell swoop.”

“Well then spill it woman!” Tom urged, earning an elbow to the ribs.

Martha took a deep breath, blowing her bangs out of her face. “Now, keep an open mind, but I thought that we could go back to the place where we fell, and... ask Star for help.”

She looked back and forth between her friends, taking in varied levels of shock and anger on their faces as they digested her words.

“Are you crazy?!” Tucker broke first, his voice cracking and not even caring. “That crazy girl would never want to help us! Plus, did you forget that she wants to KILL Jordan?!”

“Yeah, there’s no way we’d go to that lunatic for help with anything! I’d rather keep eating fish and bread!” Tom added on, clapping a hand on Tucker’s shoulder.

Sonja managed to keep her voice a bit calmer. “I... have to admit, I really didn’t expect that. Martha, come on, surely that’s not the only idea you came up with?”

The mystic shrugged helplessly. “All my other ideas went up in smoke as soon as I thought of them. Look, I know we didn’t really part on the best of terms, but I just know she can help us! She’s lived in this world much longer than us. She may know where the others are! Plus, she has food! Animals, crops, everything.”

“Hello! She wants to KILL Jordan? That’s kind of a big problem!” Tucker practically snarled. Martha steeled her nerves and looked him in the eyes.

“I’m very aware, thank you. Now, if you let me explain the full plan, without interruptions, that would be great.” When nobody spoke out, she continued.

“We are looking for four people - Mot, Andor, Dianite, and Star. I’m positive that Mot and Dianite will be wandering the world together, so we need three search parties. Wag and I will search specifically for Andor. I’ve felt faint traces of his soul, I know I can follow them to him if I concentrate hard enough. Jordan and Tom will search for Mot and Dianite. Hopefully being a Dianitee will allow you some connection, and that will guide you in the right direction if you focus. Jordan, you’re going to make sure he actually does focus. And finally, Sonja and Tucker.”

“You’re leaving us with crazy girl?” Tucker asked, eyes wide and fists balled.

Martha nods. “As... unpleasant as it may be, it’s the smartest way to do things. She knows that you two are the only Mianite followers between all of us. Not to mention, after Jordan was gone, her demeanor completely changed. If you can just fake it long enough to get the information we need, any leads you can find, then you can sneak out with seeds and hopefully some eggs and leave during the night. Star is a huge asset we cannot ignore.”

“More like huge asshole,” Tucker grumbled.

“Not to mention,” Martha said sternly, glaring at him. “You two could try and find out exactly why she feels so negatively about Ianite in the first place. And, if possible, convince her that she isn’t actually a murderer. I have a feeling she has a very strong connection with the gods. Anything we can learn from her would help.”

Sonja realized what Martha was insinuating. “You want us to become Mianite followers with her, don’t you?”

“If you can do that, you can find a way to contact Mianite and from there, ask his help in finding the others. It really is for the best—”

“No fucking way.” Tucker interrupted flatly. “I am not going to beg for help from that girl. Absolutely not.”

“Tucker, please, if you would just consider it-”

“No.”

They locked eyes for a long, tense silence. Then Martha sighed and looked away. “Fine. I can’t force you to do anything. We’ll have to make do with finding Dianite. If we split into two groups of three to look for the others, we should have enough food to last about a week each.”

Sonja, who’d been picking at her nails in thought, looked up at that. “Wait, Martha, aren’t we forgetting someone? Devisor Gaines is in this world too, right? Shouldn’t we be looking for him too?”

Everyone else glanced at each other, and Tom said what everyone was thinking. “Do we really need to find him?”

Jordan pursed his lips and shook his head. “I don’t think so. Gaines... I mean, did we ever care about each other? It always seemed like we were just working together for a time. Temporary allies.”

“I agree. Besides, it was Gaines who programmed the portal, and he said himself that it would take him home. So, if we landed here, this must be his home world, right?” Martha added.

“Yeah! He’s probably forgotten about us completely!” Tom stated, ending the discussion there. Sonja let it slide—like the others, she didn’t care overly much for the Devisor. But she had wanted to bring it up, if only to make sure she wasn’t alone in her thoughts on the man.

Wag yawned loudly, cupping a hand over his mouth. “Well, this was all fun, but I haven’t slept properly in days, so I’m gonna just go home and sleep for 72 hours. Don’t wake me unless there’s an emergency.” With that, the wizard left the Quartz House, heading back to his house. Martha quickly followed after, telling the heroes to meet back at the Quartz House the next day to gear up and head out on their respective search parties.

Tucker asked for his prize for winning the Purge, and with a sigh Martha told him she would enchant it that night and get it to him the next morning. Satisfied, they all split, going back to their bases to rest up and finish up building projects before they left to find people they weren’t even sure they could find.

#mianite season 3 #mianite #mianite s3 #saphira writes s3 #mianite season 1 #mianite season 2 #mianite s2 #mianite s1

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