#redstone and skulk | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

silverskye13 · 2 months ago

Text

It was late. Helsknight was alone, and he was tired. Everything about him was tired. His arms ached from sword drills, his legs from practicing his footwork. His toes kept cramping from standing too long in his boots out on the Colosseum sand. His fingernails were sore from gripping a sword hilt, and his spine twinged as exhausted muscles struggled to hold his back straight. There was an ache behind his eyes. Everything tasted like mud.

He needed food. He needed water. He needed to bathe.

He needed rest.

Helsknight instead sat quietly in the mess hall. His sword form book was open on one side, his little black book on the other. Half-coherent and quickly scribbled notes in his cramped, curling script clambered across the pages, tripping over each other and jumbling, nearly unreadable, into loops and lines. Helsknight had gotten a rare glimpse of Red training today, in a quiet moment when he thought no one was watching. He wrote down what he could observe without taking his eyes off Red. It gave him more notes to jog his memory, at the cost of coherency. Now he de-tangled the cluttered words haltingly and stubbornly, trying to replay Red's movements in his head.

"Left-handed," Helsknight muttered under his breath, painstakingly transcribing his notes onto a new page. "Heaviest swings come from the shoulder..."

The heavy, netherite axe had thundered through the armored training dummy, crushing the armor and snapping apart chainmail with the power of a lightning strike. It made Helsknight's throat tighten just thinking about it. How bad the ache, if that blade caught in his armor and shattered his collar bone. How blinding the agony as it mashed chain, and fabric and metal deep into a wounding cut. It was like weilding a war hammer that could still bleed someone.

"Favors the right leg," Helsknight muttered, licking his quill to sharpen the tip. The ink, heavy with the grit of charcoal instead of overworld squid ink, sullied the taste of mud in his mouth with carbon and smoke. "Bad knee, not as strong as the left side. Could undermine stance."

Red had almost a head of height on Helsknight, longer legs and longer arms, and an axe far longer than his broadsword. It would be speed and precision against reach and power. Speed and precision, and Martyn would be there, and Martyn was faster, and just as precise.

[He should see if he could sit in on Martyn's training next, though Martyn would know he was there, and would be smart enough to hide the full measure of his skills.]

The ache behind Helsknight's eyes bloomed intense and horrible, spotting the edges of his vision with stars. With a heavy sigh he tilted his head back and pinched the space between his eyes, nose wrinkled and eyes screwed shut in pain. The starring faded. The pain did not. He was so very, very, very tired.

The lights flickered once. Twice. Then went out. Briefly, Helsknight sat in utter darkness in the mess hall. He cracked an eye open and, seeing no difference in the darkness whether his eyes were open or closed, closed it again. The slow hiss of steam-piston joints approached from everywhere. From nowhere. Chck-chack--hisssss, like an old, heavy piston line made of wrought iron and pewter. Leaden footsteps paced, and with it came heat, blistering and dry as force fire. The backs of his eyelids lit with a red cast, and Helsknight scowled.

"Whatever you're selling," he growled, taking his hand from his face and leveling his exhausted gaze on Evil X, "I'm not buying. Save your breath."

The uncanny machine tilted his head, the bright red lights of his eyes narrowing in a grin. The lights in the mess hall came alive again, though they all seemed to fizzle and bleed, casting the room in a dull red, plasma-like glow. It made the brutal black and grey of Evil X's robotics stark, made the weight and strength of him more apparent. Evil X was the kind of creature that broke things just by playing with them, all blunt wrought-iron parts attached to a mind made uncanny by the faithful fear of every soul in hels -- including Helsknight. To be unafraid of Evil X was to be stupid, and dead, and for an unlucky few, kicked from hels altogether.

"So unkind to your Sovereign," Evil X chuckled gleefully, leaning forward over the table in a gesture that looked almost like a bow. "That's why I like you Helsknight. You really, truly, don't care."

Helsknight snorted derisively, "Do something worth caring about and I might."

Evil X laughed, tilting his head back, a hand clutched to his broad, iron chest as though there were breath that truly needed catching. He had the knack of acting, moving, organic down well -- far better than EB did. His movements were smooth and natural, so unlike a machine, that only the hiss and click of gears and servos belied his nature. One could almost be convinced he was a man in a suit, were it not for the jagged edges of his joints, and the way redstone and wires glinted and sparked where the edges of his frame met and separated.

"Oh I could," Evil X hummed, his voice bright and pleasant. It was a deep, growling voice, and it reverberated like tearing metal. "If you'd only let me, knight."

Evil X held out his hand playfully, that sly grin still narrowing his eyes. Helsknight raised an eyebrow at it. He crossed his arms and leaned on them against the table, looking up at the ruler of hels with a sardonic smirk.

"If you're looking for deference, you need a ring to kiss, my Sovereign." Helsknight said. "You only kiss the back of a hand if she's a lady, a queen, or a princess."

"So many stupid rules," Evil X sighed. "Being a knight must be an exhausting chore."

The metal monstrosity leaned forward, splaying out his hand to catch his weight on the table. The wood groaned beneath him like a wounded animal, and the heat escaping from the joints of his fingers made the wood smoke. Helsknight resisted the urge to lean away from the heat. He knew intimidation when it came knocking, loud and unsubtle, on his cell door.

"How about," Evil X hummed brightly, his voice sickly-sweet with derisive pleasantry, "you kiss my hand because I am your Sovereign, and I am owed your respect."

Helsknight's pride seethed, but this was a fight he neither wanted nor could win. Helsknight stood, wincing only a little as muscles that had grown stiff as he sat protested the movement. Evil X straightened when he did, once again offering his hand. Helsknight bowed low and, careful not to actually touch the Sovereign, for fear of burning himself, kissed the air over the back of Evil X's hand.

"I am at your service, tyrant."

"Flatterer."

"It wasn't a compliment."

"It was if I say it was."

"You can do a great many wonders, tyrant," Helsknight said, "but you have yet to change the nature of truth."

Evil X moved like lightning, a bold red smear of color that Helsknight could barely see. Evil X grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, wrought iron fist bunching in his chainmail, and yanked him forward. Suddenly he was being lifted halfway across the table, staring up into the void-dark black of the screen that made up Evil X's face, which shouldn't be possible, because Evil X wasn't that tall. The magma-hot press of his fist so close to Helsknight's neck made him wince, the radiant heat threatening to burn if it got any closer. He could smell the rings of his mail heating, and the press of his weight against the collar of his clothes squeezed his throat closed; not enough to strangle, but certainly enough to threaten. It took every ounce of sense in Helsknight's body not to snap his hands forward and grab at the scalding metal of the Sovereign's wrist.

"You know, Helsknight, I do like you." Evil X said, all pleasantness gone from his voice. "I like your sarcasm. I like your strength. I like how much you struggle."

He pulled Helsknight a little closer, and Helsknight, already on his tip-toes, his fingertips just barely catching his weight on the table, felt every part of himself currently anchoring himself the ground lift just barely off their purchase. All of his weight fell against the collar of his shirt, and the press of Evil X's fist, thinning his breaths to reedy sips of air.

"But I won't abide by your disrespect," Evil X said, his voice so deep and mechanical, Helsknight felt it in the pit of his stomach. "A healthy fear in hels is very important to me. I thrive on it. Call it a law. All must fear Evil X."

Evil X narrowed the red lights of his eyes unpleasantly, something like a grim smile playing in his mechanical features.

"And you, my brave, sarcastic, law abiding knight, don't seem very scared of me." Evil X tilted his head just slightly, and red-grey steam swirled from an articulation near his mechanical spine. It was hot enough that Helsknight flinched his eyes closed, for fear it would scald him. "Do I need to scare you, Helsknight?"

Helsknight felt his heart kick a little quicker in his chest. He grinned. He always found it was best to bare his teeth at a threat.

"I'm terrified," Helsknight said truthfully, his voice a strangled whisper in his throat. His hands hovered inches away from Evil X's wrist, the barely withheld impulse to grab the hot metal, to try and find any leverage to ease the bruise against his throat, fighting to rip free. "But I deal with fear often in the arena. Forgive me for not being very transparent with it."

Helsknight swallowed and winced. The heat radiating from Evil X's hand was starting to seep through his armor. His chainmail was heating up, and he could feel every link uncomfortably hot against his skin.

Evil X smiled, his voice brightening, "Beg for my forgiveness, and maybe I will."

"Can't," Helsknight lowered his hands and tried to reach for the table. His fingertips scuffed at empty air. "My Saint takes precedence."

"You're not a monotheist," Evil X pointed out reasonably. "You believe in the Order of Remembrance."

"But I don't beg their god for mercy," Helsknight said, his voice thinning. "It's... Getting hard to breathe."

"Terrible waste of energy, breathing." Evil X sighed, as though the act were pitiful. "You organic creatures waste so much time on it."

"It's a bad habit to break. Addictive."

"What, breathing?"

"Living, generally."

Evil X let out a derisive tsk! and rolled his eyes. "Of course. How silly of me."

"Ex..." Helsknight hissed, his hands jerking up for another aborted grab at Evil X's wrist. Small, firefly stars were starting to swim into the edges of his vision, retreating from sight when he managed another thin gasp.

Evil X, still unhurried and unbothered, twisted his wrist, tilting Helsknight's face to the side as if to get a better look at him. It pressed the heated chainmail harder against Helsknight's neck, and he wheezed in protest.

"Is there something different about you?" Evil X asked, scrutinizing him unhurriedly. "Done something to your hair, maybe?"

"The scars are new," Helsknight whispered unhelpfully, his vision starting to blur around the edges.

"No," Evil X sighed. "No it's not that. It's got something to do with the smell of you. Beg for mercy from any new gods lately?"

"Not that I know of."

"Huh. Interesting."

"Sovereign." Helsknight tried to be more insistent, but his head was starting to swim. His heart was fluttering quick in his chest, pushing too little air too quickly through his limbs.

[Don't panic.]

"You know, I could make all your problems disappear." Evil X hummed, the unbreakable vice of his grip holding Helsknight so unnaturally still, he could have been writhing in the hands of a statue. "What with the Demon rigging your match. My brother won't ask -- doesn't want me meddling in his humble little hive. But I wouldn't refuse a request from the Champion of hels."

Helsknight reached with his hands and feet, cursing silently when all he found was open air. The table should still be there... Somewhere. Salvation. A reminder that the world existed outside the infinite black of Evil X's screen, the blinding red of his eyes, and the vice of his grip.

"He would forgive you for letting me in eventually," Evil X hummed. "He likes you."

The lights in Helsknight's eyes had stopped fading when he breathed. They invaded his vision like a brilliant tide. He only realized he'd given in to the impulse to grab Evil X's wrist, because suddenly his hands were burning. If he cried out in pain, it died somewhere against the clench of the Sovereign's fist.

[Don't panic.]

"Just recant on that stupid little agreement of ours," Evil X smiled, "and let me be your sponsor again. The Demon couldn't touch you then, now could he?"

"You could," Helsknight grunted, trying to twist in the unyielding grip. He only succeeded in pressing the heated chainmail harder against his neck.

It burned.

Evil X chuckled, and Helsknight felt the vibration in every rib.

"I can do that regardless," Evil X said gently, as though he were talking to a child. "I do what I like, when I like. I am the ruler of hels."

"Prove it." The glittering lights in Helsknight's eyes was starting to give way to a surging darkness. It rose around his world like an embrace. "Let me go."

Evil X chuckled again. It shook Helsknight's whole world.

"Say please."

There was a brief moment where Helsknight managed enough spite to want to spit in Evil X's face. He didn't. But he really, really wanted to.

He only knew his world had gone black, because when Evil X dropped him, his vision came surging back again. Helsknight collapsed to the floor, gasping and coughing. His nose stung with the smell of hot metal and singed fabric, and burns along the curve of his neck and the palms of his hands throbbed with bitter sensation. Evil X crouched on the balls of his feet, watching Helsknight as though he were a particularly interesting bug on the floor, or maybe some strange species of fish suffocating on a beach.

"Your pride is going to be the death of you," Evil X said pleasantly.

"Only if you're the one trying to kill me," Helsknight managed, when his coughing finally started to subside. He pressed his forehead to the cold floor, and blinked in quiet surprise as Evil X flicked his wrist and gently placed a water bottle in front of his nose.

"The offer stands," Evil X hummed. "I'll sponsor you. Get you out of that stupid little hovel of yours and into a house in the center of town, right beside my tower. Maybe even get you some proper armor, enchanted to a god's specifications."

"Since when have you been interested in sponsoring anyone?" Helsknight growled, his voice tumbling like gravel through his wounded throat. He didn't take the water Evil X offered. It felt too much like a trap.

"I want to see what the Demon does, obviously!" Evil X said gleefully, placing a second bottle by the first. A temptation. "I want to see what he'll do when I take away one of his playthings. I bet he'll throw a tantrum. Break some things in the Colosseum. It's been awhile since anyone has pissed my brother off."

"I'm nobody's plaything."

"Of course you are," Evil X flashed him another of those pitiful smiles. "Right now you're the Demon's. And here, I'm being so kind and offering to be your champion."

Helsknight felt a hot flash of anger jilt its way down his spine. Groaning from the effort, and the sting in his palms, he slid his hands beneath himself and tried to push himself off the floor.

"I don't need a champion," he spat. "I need you assholes to leave me the fuck alone."

Evil X's heavy hand landed in the center of Helsknight's back. It was the kind of gesture a friend would make when trying to offer consolation. The moment it touched him, it burned. Helsknight gasped, and then his arms buckled as Evil X, as trivially as one might capture a spider beneath their hands, pressed him back down against the floor. Helsknight grit his teeth around an impotent scream, writhing beneath the burning touch. It felt as though the Sovereign of hels planned to shove his hand through Helsknight's spine.

"Oh you stupid, prideful little knight," Evil X smiled pleasantly, "if no one is your champion, who, exactly, is going to protect you?"

The press on his back intensified. Helsknight thought he could hear his spine and ribs creak. He reached and kicked, as though it would do any good. One of the water bottles went skittering away when he hit it with a flailing hand.

The loud shatter of glass shot Helsknight gasping into wakefulness. He blinked his eyes, startled to find himself blind. Just as soon as he noticed its absence, light poured into the room, spreading warm and dim from the shrooms lights overhead. Tanguish was standing in front of him, out of breath, a potion bottle in his hands.

"Are you alright?" Tanguish asked, whisking to his side. "I thought I heard-- from down the hall-- like you were--" his expression softened from fear to worry. "Did something happen?"

Helsknight glanced around the room, and when he saw nothing abnormal, shortened his scan to the table. His form book and his little black notebook were there, as was his quill. One of his arms had an angry red line where he laid on it while sleeping, and had pressed too hard against his notebook. There were no burns on his hands, though his throat felt dry and sore from thirst. His back ached from how far he'd slumped over the table, spine protesting the unfair treatment.

"I'm... Fine." Helsknight said hoarsely. "Nightmare, I think."

"Oh. Well. Don't. Don't scare me like that," Tanguish said, smiling faintly. He gently placed the bottle on the table -- not a potion, but water, chilled by his touch. "Here. Uhm. S-someone must have left it out. It was hot when I picked it up."

Helsknight paused halfway to bringing the bottle to his lips. He blinked down at the innocuous little bit of glass, nervousness awakening in his stomach.

"Did I hear glass shattering?" He asked cautiously.

"Oh. Hah. Um. Well..."

Tanguish looked down. Helsknight followed his gaze. A few steps from the table, a water bottle had shattered, the jagged edges of the glass outlined faintly in the red-orange light. Tanguish's foot, just to one side of it, pooled blood in a slowly blooming ring.

"Tanguish."

"I'm s-sorry! It was so dark in here," Tanguish stammered, looking around. "I've never-- I didn't even see it I just stepped-- ah!"

Helsknight got to his feet and scooped Tanguish off the floor. It sent a corkscrew of pain spiralling down his spine, but he made his way to the stairs regardless. The cool of Tanguish's skin against his armor felt like a balm, even as his nervousness turned to snakes in his stomach.

"I'm fine!" Tanguish protested, clinging to Helsknight's armor. "Just get me some tweezers and--"

"The Colosseum surgeon will be awake still," Helsknight grumbled.

"It's just glass I don't need a surgeon!"

"You'll want a surgeon when you find out you left a piece in your foot a week from now."

"It's fine-- I'm fine," Tanguish said, his voice softening. "Don't freak out over it."

"I'm not freaking out."

"Helsknight, you're shaking."

"I'm tired," Helsknight protested. [Not technically a lie.] He stormed down the stairs, taking them two at a time. "And the sooner we get this looked at, the sooner I sleep, right?"

"Right..." Tanguish agreed, and decided, tactfully, not to ask about the odd, ring-shaped burns around the neck of Helsknight's tunic.

"Right."

#rns ficlets #redstone and skulk #helsknight #evil x #tanguish #the barking writer #hels worldbuilding #rns worldbuilding #i just really really wanted to mess wihh scary Evil X again ngl #been listening to A Crown Of Candy and its got me thinking about himb the War Crimes Soveriegn of Hels #threatening #coersion #nightmares #dreams #unreality #kindaaaa

140 notes · View notes