#new l'manberg

[painless-innit-colourful]

I wanna go home (Nov 2020 when everyday was peace in New L'Manberg)

[newlmanberglogs]

okay but.. democracy.

--Wil

Democracy pog...

Until its not...

[pheonix-inside]

Yo I just posted a gay little fanfic about nlm era cbeeduo. I'll link it in the notes for anyone who wants to read it (pls read it).

[wils-brother-tommy]

tommy visiting the L'manhole in 2024, almost four years after L'manberg was founded

o7

[pebbledrat]

Okay okay okay okay. And hear me out. I’m going to lay out the evidence and you’re all going to correct me

tubbo politely critiqued bbh’s party set up for several minutes (no decorations??)

tubbo tried to give suggestions on how to liven the place up (there was a lot of talk about bunting which bbh completely brushed off)

tubbo stated several times that he was excited to be attending a party (no one has invited him to a party in ages!)

tubbo felt strongly about dressing in an appropriate formal skin for the event (taking time to weigh his options and emphasize that some skins are too casual for a party like this)

tubbo made certain to prepare a gift for the host (he gave some concerns about appearances and rudeness)

tubbo keeps up with the events of parties he didn’t attend (read about the red banquet in the Dream SMP Times, knew enough to discuss it with bbh)

I think it’s abundantly clear that tubbo cares about throwing good parties and being a good guest and keeping up to date with the parties he can’t attend. 

I think. President Underscore. was a socialite. 

[erstwhilesparrow]

@mcyt-drabble-exchange treat for @codes-and-stuffs !

---

Fundy’s messing with the radios. Sometimes, prodding them, he catches whispers of the garbled language everyone speaks in his dreams. Then he invariably nudges the dial and clarity evaporates.

Down near the water, his grandfather snaps out the wreck of his left wing to keep Tubbo from getting too close to the edge. His expression is briefly indulgent, maybe. Maybe Fundy’s just too far away. If they notice him here, chewing through spider eyes and sifting through static, they don’t call out.

The radio Fundy’s holding shouts, crackling, then falls silent as if dead in his hands. Fundy’s stomach growls.

[screechingsandwichhologram]

lmanburg has a newspaper called The L'manburgian. during manburg it split into two: The Man and The Daily Beat. The Man was pro-schlatt and The Daily Beat was anti-schlatt. The Man died with schlatt, and in new lmanburg the newspaper rebranded to be The L'manburgian Beat

[doodlebloo]

category 9 lmanburg brainrot incident injures thousands kills millions on the dash

Truthfully the reason I spiralled is that I watched Tubbo's vod from a month ago where he binge watched the SAD-ist animatics again and he kept going "Haha and then we all died and forgot in the end lol!" & I just unravelled

[wondernoise]

bright as gold

Summary: A reflection on the L'Manberg founding family and what remains of it in two scenes. Eret preserves, in their museum, every proof they can find that their family existed and was happy. Relationships: L’Manberg Ensemble found family, Prankduo, mild romantic Traitorduo. Word Count: 2031 words A/N: gift for @livingpastlivesiswhoiam.

-

Eret had been having a long, long several weeks.

It was late afternoon towards the end of July, and still Wilbur insisted on the full uniform even when Eret had spent the day running around hauling concrete and blackstone to repair damage to the wall from the SMP’s TNT cannons just for her work to shatter again as soon as she turned her back.

She’d finally ditched the hat and jacket on the ground while she mixed another bucket of dandelion-yellow paint for the spires — and, naturally, when she turned around, her clothes were gone.

And standing just outside grabbing distance was Fundy, wearing both items with a shit-eating grin.

Read more

[newlmanberglogs]

Mon,July 29th

Happy independance day

[sodaspringz]

CALLING OUT TO THE VOID WITH A C!QUACKITY QUESTION:

during the Las Nevadas arc, where did that motherfucker sleep? like i genuinely need to know, did he ever have a house other than the one in L'Manberg? did he have a bedroom in Las Nevadas or did he just... exist there indefinitely?

[scoutpologist]

how do you guys think they handle government-issued id in the dsmp countries. does every resident of las nevadas have an id card. did every member of l'manberg have one. were new l'manberg ones different from old l'manberg ones. i have a lot of questions

[cherryelectricboogaloo]

L'Manburg was home. It was everything they ever loved, everything they had ever known. The walls were their morning greeting, the grass was their mattress, the stars above it their blanket. They had been alone in the woods for the longest time, only seeing the small critter from the trees.

They didn't remember much before that. What was the clearest in their mind was what came afterwards.

They had been in the Empty, before this. Many islands floating above an emptiness that had no end, with many people that, in retrospect, must have been Endermen. There were purple trees, and many, many of people like them flying through the skies—draconic wings open for all to see, tails whipping in the air with loud noises. At the time, they couldn't speak English. They had many words that now seemed foreign. ⎎⏃⋔⟟⌰⊬ were the people who would cradle them in their wings, ⊑⍜⋔⟒ was the tree they used to sleep under, and they thought that ⟒☌☌ was from what everything came. They were hatched there and cared for.

And then… many things happened, things they didn't quite remember, and they were somewhere else. Alone in the woods, where no one had ever been besides the fauna. And they began to live there, until the people arrived.

To think everything would have changed so fast.

The platforms of New L'Manburg were sturdy, the water below them a fierce reminder they wouldn't be able to go to their small house in the crater without heavy armoring as to not be hindered. They made a bubble elevator, which one could see faintly if they looked at the border of the crater, but the many tourists and citizens that were returning didn't seem to mind. They were cheerfully dancing and singing, flags spread like flowers to and by everyone. Tubbo was talking to Big Q, Tommy was boasting to Sam about his status as a British man, …there was Fundy, there, enjoying the sun from his favorite spot behind one of the stores, and Ranboo taking notes, sticking far above most of the people. Philza was intermingling with the citizens, too, getting gifts left and right from his neighbors. That's right. He moved in just recently, didn't he? They should probably bring him something too.

It was a familiar scenery, but it was so… unfamiliar. It was home, but it wasn't the same home they had known. It wasn't… it wasn't like before. Sure, they knew that it would never be the same, but were they wrong in feeling this… wronged, by that? Their heart hurt in their chest, like it was being squeezed tight inside their ribcage, squeezed, squeezed—

There was so much noise. So much cheering, so much music, so much so much too much all at the same time—

They felt a hand on their head. Something they understood well and remembered, soft like a whisper, gentle like sunflowers. Dad. They looked, trying to find the face they longed for the most in the crowd. The beanie, the well-groomed wings right behind his back, the uniform or the coat, the smile, anything, anything of the man that was their dad.

They were met with a crowd of faces, a crowd of bodies and voices and clothes and mannerisms, but none of them were him.

…that's right. Because he wasn't there, anymore. Their expression crumpled like paper, their eyes burning a little at the hint of tears coming up. It hurt, but they didn't know if it hurt more than the pressure on their chest, on their stomach, sinking deep, deep, carefully, like they had eaten rocks—or like someone had put them in their stomach when they weren't looking. …And everyone was so happy, cheering and dancing, celebrating the rebuilt and renewed L'Manburg, completing now some months of its new existence. They didn't bother remembering how many.

It wasn't L'Manburg. Not without him.

They moved against the crowd's roaring festivities, their wings pressed tight against their body, to the point it was painful. They kept their head low, their tail wrapped around their leg so no one would bump or trip on it. If they could have disappeared from the crowd, they would have found a way, if only to ignore all of the happy chatter and how people called their name.

None of those voices were the one they wanted to hear, so they weren't needed. …There wasn't any use in listening to them. They tried to ignore them, to push them away from their mind—they're not the voices I need. So, they're not here. I can't hear them.

—————

Their small, beautifully made home underwater was the only place where the noise would be drawn out. Sitting by the small couch they had made, they could spread their wings comfortably, their tail limp against the back of the sofa and stretching into the ground. They had chased out all thoughts of the things outside their home. All they could think about—all they had to think about—was what was no longer there. The past, the past, search through it… closing their eyes so they wouldn't see anything, wouldn't hear anything.

The roaring fire. A campfire, logs, and a song on their lips. Where men could go and emancipate. Arms around shoulders, moving to the rhythm of the guitar. …And yet, his face…

It was like a fading dream. It was there, but the details—the things they were so proud of remembering vividly, of being able to spot on his face every morning, the way his nose was, the curve of his eyebrows, the way his lips curved up into a moon-like smile, it was all gone. It was blurry and fading, and his voice… how was it? What did it sound like? Come on. Remember. Remember. How could I forget? It was the voice I loved the most… no way, I can't have forgotten it, I can't… it was… he sounded like…

They got up from the couch, looking through the barrels and the chests in the living room. No, no no no. There had to be something. A disc they had recorded over, notes in the notebooks, anything, anything, something—his voice, the voice that would sing lullabies for them to sleep, the voice of the general that led them to battle, the brother, the friend, the ally, the father, it couldn't— it wasn't supposed to fade, it was supposed to be here, to be with them. It couldn't be, it…

But there was nothing to remember it by. There was no miraculous recording. There was only the silence, and music sheets for a song they never learnt how to play.

They wanted him to teach them. He would never teach them to play.

They clung to the notebooks in their arms, the ones they were searching through frantically, and closed their eyes. The tears burnt part of their face, like lava running down their face, but there was no use in trying to stop them. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, you're still here, I still live with you, no time's gone by, you're here. I know you're here. You never left. You're right here, right over my shoulder, you never left you're there you're here.

"Who made you cry, Dray? You can tell me, you know that."

No one, I'm not crying there's no way I'm crying why would I you're right there aren't you

They couldn't hear his voice. They sobbed.

"Hey, it's alright, king, there, there… see? It's all fine!"

They put their hand on their head. If they kept it there, they were certain they could feel it—his hand, there, messing their hair. And then he'd smile, and everyone would be back the way they should be. The walls would be back, the crater would be gone. They'd be under the blankets of the stars near the L'Mantree, and it would all be fine. He'd be there. Everyone would.

"I'm always here with you." There was no timbre, no cadence, but it was like they remembered… gentle, non-condemning, like a hand touching their cheek. Yes… they could feel it, couldn't they? Right there. "No need to cry…"

There was no voice… but he sounded so, so sorrowful… or maybe it was them. Why would he be sad? There was no reason…

"Hey, look at me, alright? You need to snap out of this. There's no use in crying."

Yeah. Yeah, I know. We have to fight back. There's no use in tears. We have to be prepared.

Huh? …Ah. But you're crying too.

Hey. It's going to be okay, see? I'm just fine. Don't worry, I'm just fine. Why are you crying? Where's the pain coming from? If I pat your head, will you smile? I'm always here with you…

They said words of comfort and received words of comfort back. If only the sun could shine this deep into the water, it would have made the whole scene so magical—holding onto themselves like they were hugging an old friend, tears flowing freely despite the sizzling to their right cheek… a pleasant, pleasant dream…

—————

Sometimes he really wondered if it was okay to leave them down here, away from everyone else. It felt a bit irresponsible, but every time he tried to coax them into moving to one of the newly built houses up in the surface, they refused without even considering it. It was a bit upsetting, since he had made them specifically so people would live with them, where everyone could meet, but he wasn't going to be the one to force them to something they didn't care for.

They had come to the festival, but after some time, Tubbo stopped seeing them—he asked everyone if they'd seen Drache, only for one of the blacksmiths to say they had gone back into their home. Tubbo didn't want to leave things unattended, but when Big Q said he'd have that covered for him, he didn't hesitate to come to check on them.

He didn't really see them like this, not often. …They were curled up against many notebooks, their face scarred from crying on one side, sleeping on the floor. The noise must've bothered them, or the music, or the people (sometimes he felt they were a bit too much, but he tried to imagine it was just him and some friends), and since they were overwhelmed, they came back down…

He picked one of the notebooks up.

Today I learnt to write from Wilbur. He's the best! He's so smart, and he taught me many things!

…Tubbo closed the notebook, his eyes darting towards anywhere in the room that wasn't the pile of them on the ground. He placed it down, before forcing himself to chase those words off his head.

Sleeping on the floor was gonna fuck their back. …Best to move them to the bedroom. It wasn't too far, so it wouldn't be any problem…

[ctommymybeloved]

Happy Birthday to Doomsday, my beloathed, you were such a poor narrative choice

anyways, stream the best thing that came out of that mess, this amazing animatic by wolfy!! o7

[symphoniecalando]

Te mortuum voluit. Fuit terra tua vita. - :) (He wanted you dead. It was land over your life.)

Ita. De me non curat. L'Manberg totum fuit.

[azure-bluet]

A visit to Snowchester 🏘️❄️

This was originally a request for the expression + palette challenge, but I got a bit carried away.

Some design notes and closeups under the cut!

Techno:

Techno has golden streaks and golden scars with two emeralds from the Totem he used to save him from the execution.

He wears an emerald earring that matches with Phil.

The roses and thorns are to show how something beautiful can also spill blood, and as a reference to the Queen of Hearts from Alice in Wonderland. The ruby gem that connects to them represents a droplet of blood.

Tubbo:

Tubbo's right side is significantly more scarred since he instinctively turned left when he was executed. He also rised both arms to subconsciously try to protect himself from the fireworks, losing two left fingers and leaving his right arm very fragile in the incident. He lost his right arm when he jumped to protect Tommy from a firework during Doomsday.

He has a long scar on the left side of his face from the battle with Tommy in the destroyed Community House. Tommy has a matching one on his right side.

His horns are still growing, not fully formed yet (he's a cow hybrid). One of his horns is scarred from him trying to file it down when it started to grow during New L'Manberg, but didn't manage to do it.

He wears Tommy's red bandana around his neck, but will swap its placement depending on what he's doing.

Ranboo:

Ranboo has very light tear scars on their cheeks from being half ghast and crying ghast tears. Since they're not fully ghast, the tears are so acidic they burn their skin.

They have a dandelion on their horn, given to them by Tommy. Tommy, in turn, has a netherite earring with an ender eye on his.

In the background, set in Tubbo's house, we can see a vase with two pink tulips, given to him by Ranboo, and the "Your Tommy" compass. It's snowing outside.