Sometimes Tango sees gold. He's deep in the Warden's den, so surely everything is soaked in blue and green.
Prussian blue. DePrussian blue. Like depression. Eh? Good one, right?
Tango sighs. The gold only flits in the corner of his vision and he's tired, he's endlessly tired but he can't leave until he's done. It's already been so long. He's stuck making shitty jokes to haunted faces that would sooner blastificate his face off than laugh.
But the gold. It's like stardust on his tongue. Memories of hellfire. Gorgeous gilded blackstone, the stuff from his days as a blazeling. No, more like dandelions, like sunbeams through forest branches.
Tango sticks his tongue out in concentration, hopping between crackling soulfires. Navigating his own maze requires skill! Skill that he doesn't always have, admittedly.
Releasing a quiet sigh of relief, Tango approaches an unfinished pillar. He twirls his pickaxe and gets to work. Shulker boxes surround him in short order.
So focused on his work, he misses the gold. He misses the yellow, the soft, the scorching, but it draws near all the same, getting closer and closer-
"Ah! Ow, ow, ow, ow," a voice yelps.
Tango screams, fumbling with his pickaxe and building blocks. Both fall to the ground as Tango whirls, nobody's supposed to be here, especially not-
"Jimmy?"
Jimmy sadly stomps his wing out. Black marks mar the feathers, ugly soot staining the gold. "Hi, Tango."
"What are you... How are you here? What are you doing here? You're - you're on Hermitcraft!" Tango gapes.
"Oh, um, crossover event?" Jimmy tries.
"I didn't think there was one of those right now," Tango says. He roots around in his many pockets, making a small happy noise when he finds his comm. He boots it up and peers at the list of people online.
Strangely, Jimmy's the only non-hermit. Tango scrolls through a few lines of Jimmy-Skizz banter, then sees Grian's message of a simple, "join vc".
"Grian got you on?" Tango says, still mystified.
"No, it was more of a group - Tango, quit distracting me! I trudged through all this - this hullabaloo to see you!" Jimmy punctuates this with hands placed determinedly on hips, expression set to a hopeful scowl.
Tango can't make heads or tails of it. It might have to do with the several shots of espresso coursing through his system. Or the lack of sleep. Or the concentration-fatigue, or the way his eyes have been going crossed when he peers at redstone wiring. Any number of reasons, really.
"...why?" Tango finally asks.
This stumps Jimmy. He blinks a few times and furrows his eyebrows. "Why? What d'you mean why? You're my rancher, that's why!"
Well, that's true. Tango nods. Then he paused, frowns, and shakes his head. "Wait, you can't be down here! Spoilers, Jimmy, spoilers!"
Jimmy snaps his fingers. "I'm not a hermit! And I'm certainly going to watch the videos when hermits release them. I won't spill!"
"I guess..."
"But anyway, let's get out of here. It's so stuffy and - fiery," Jimmy says. He flutters his burnt wing helpfully.
Tango wilts. His desire to see Jimmy and guilt at causing him harm wars with his ever-present need to keep working. "I'm busy, Jim. Gotta keep working. It's already been so long, the hermits are getting antsy..."
Jimmy invades his space and as the cavern trickles to silence, he wraps his arms and wings around him.
Tango's always been weak for him. He exhales. Any scrap of energy still clinging to his worn-out body vanishes, and he rocks further into Jimmy's hold.
To his credit, Jimmy just makes a small noise and adjusts so he can support his weight.
"Come on, then," Jimmy says softly. He runs his fingers through his hair. "Let's go take a rest, yeah?"
"Yeah, okay," Tango breathes. He closes his eyes and sinks into Jimmy's warmth. It's rather terrible of his fellow hermits, he thinks absentmindedly. Using his rancher for such nefarious means.
But now the glimpses of gold haunt him no longer. His precious yellow fills Tango's vision, covering him in head to toe with deep contentment.
His rancher. His rancher. Tango smiles, and everything glitters.
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