#this is about tango of the tek variety

[notscarsafe]

I am LIVING for the decked out experience.

Ominous Decked Out voice:

THE DUNGEON IS READY FOR ITS NEXT VICTIM

The Hermits cheering like it's recess time:

Yaaaaaay!

[lyraofthestarsss]

RANCHER CRUMBS?? WAHHHHH

~~~

Tango (in clip): I hate pvp….

Jimmy: now come on! You say I do stupid stuff! Man was on one heart- half a heart, and he did not eat. He was not eating!

Jimmy: I have no words- Tango? Tango! Come on now, man.

Jimmy: maybe that’s why we’re ranchers, holy moly. That was silly, and I’m silly, *zoom in on Jimmy putting his fingers together* put two together. Double silly. Double life. Double rancher.

Jimmy, zoomed in: I miss you…

[cjskribblez]

Oops! My hand slipped. Create mod Jimmy is real now.

[lil-bit-of-mining]

I made a silly lil pony for TangoTek because I thought it was cool😎

This is:

Tek Blazerod

[windfighter]

I summoned a warden by mistake and my whole body just PANICKED so that was absolutely not fun and I hate Mojang for adding them

0/10 worst mob added to the game

[team-rancher]

It’s 1 am and I just woke up with the following thought:

Tango of the Toad Variety

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk

[terrencevision]

Hermit A Day May 23: A Tango of the Tek Variety!

I started watching Hermitcraft during Decked Out 2, and my first hermit stream was Tango!

Tango is a game design GENIUS! I talk about Decked Out in my application to grad school to study game design, hopefully I get in!!!

I missed Gem’s day a couple days ago, and I still haven’t gotten Wels done! They’ll get done before the end of the month. Some days I do 2-3 so I can draw other things on other days.

[leafdoodles]

How about number 2 for a mister Tango of the Tek variety?

I love the Tek variety, big fan of the Tek variety.

[hermitcraftheadcanons]

Two Tango of the Tek variety headcanons of mine :)))))

1. Blazeborns/blaze hybrids are, generally, Very good at self regulating their own tempterature. Its why they are able to leave the nether without any real concern - if the outside temperature is colder, they get warmer to compensate. This means Tango's dungeon master skin isn't frost, its actually just that his fire got so hot it turned blue. He wears that jacket so he doesn't melt level one

2. In a similar vein, if a Blazeborn isn't taking care of themselves (not eating, not sleeping, stuff like that) their temperature regulation... kind of stops working and they get really cold. This paired with the fact that blazes are a social species has lead to Tango, having spent too many sleepless nights in a row working on a redstone project showing up at another redstone savy friend of his's base for help... then forgetting why he's there and collapsing on top of them and falling asleep.

If a Tango's fire hair has burned down to flickering flames and embers, this means he is absolutely exhausted and probably about to fall asleep on you. He gets weirdly cold too- okay, normal human body temperature, but for a blazeborn that's freezing!

-Mod Mleem

[dodiaska]

id like to belive hes hiding in a bathroom from someone and is praying whoevers hunting him wont think about looking in there :0

tango of the tek variety in @kiszoneszczury s space mining au !!

ive become a lil obsessed with it and really wanted to draw sth for it >:]]

[frozenjokes]

cubscarian cuddling? maybaps? or maybe a tango of the tek variety…… hotguy in general would be fun :3 or cuteguy’s outfit!

There was a careful balance to strike here at the edge of Cub’s bed. Cub and Scar were sound asleep, reasonable given the time, and Grian was eager to join them in his own deliriously tired state, but these things required tact. Strategy. Scar did not wake easily, but if Grian did happen to rouse him by accident, he would surely be smothered in those godforsaken arms for the foreseeable future. Grian was quite cold from the night chill, but he’d rather not be flattened in his pursuit of warmth. Despite this, Scar was Grian’s favorite furnace, and if he could manage to finagle himself into the curve of Scar’s chest without the carelessness of those wing-crushing arms..

Even in the dead of night, half asleep, Grian was nothing if not a betting man.

So Grian hopped up onto the backboard settling into the marks his talons had left from hundreds of instances of this exact movement. Hm. Cub might be a problem. He and Scar were cuddled just a little closer than Grian had initially thought, but it wasn’t like they were locked together or anything, there was room.

Hands and feet curled inwards so he didn’t poke holes in the blankets, Grian crept forward on his knuckles. The path was clear; Scar didn’t wear his legs to bed, obviously, so the free space was Grian’s way in, though the major obstacle of Scar’s arm draped over Cub’s side was still a present threat. Grian could just move it of course; it definitely wouldn’t wake Scar up and would be much easier to slot himself between the two of them, but something in Grian wanted it there, over him, keeping him securely buried on all sides. Grian squinted, giving the narrow space between Scar and Cub another scrutinizing look. It would be a tight squeeze. Tighter with Scar’s arm in the way..

He could make it. Just get his shoulders through. The rest would come easy.

Getting his shoulders through was more difficult than anticipated. Grian found himself pushing at an opening that just wouldn’t budge, Scar keeping a firmer hold now that Grian was trying to rift himself between him and Cub while the latter groaned. Had Grian mentioned Cub was a considerably lighter sleeper? This was fine. Asleep Scar was just stubborn, and with a little more force Grian would surely slide right through. Just a little more force. A little more oomph. In his single minded focus on this goal, Grian failed to realize he was flapping his wings until he hit both of his partners in the face at least twice.

Well! At least that got Cub to move!

“Grian.” Cub hissed, just about unhappy sounding as it gets, but Grian was too pleased with getting right where he wanted to care, only to feel Cub’s absence with great sadness moments later. He was still so cold.

“Come back,” Grian whispered, failing just a little at the being quiet part.

“No.”

“Please?”

“Bad man. Greedy. Sharp. Bad.”

“I am not-“ Even when Grian sensed the first shifting of Scar’s body behind him, it was too late. Scar’s arms punched the life right out of him as they latched around his stomach, leaving Grian flailing and wheezing for air. His wingbeats were hard enough to properly wake Scar up, the other yelping and falling out of bed, though, not without taking the entire top blanket with him. Grian just managed to hold on to the bed frame, wiggling from Scar’s grasp not a moment too soon, but didn’t get to balance before Cub’s foot connected with his chest, pushing him right over the edge.

“Banished. Both of you. Be gone. Goodnight.”

“Why am I banished!” Scar wailed, voice hoarse from sleep. “This was all Grian! I’m innocent!”

“You are innocent.” Cub conceded, muffled as he spoke into the pillow, “But I’m really hot and you can not control yourself.”

“What I do in my sleep is not my fault! You should consider being less holdable if you don’t want me attached at the hip!”

“Perhaps,” Cub mused, “But it is my bed. And my crimes are excused because I don’t care. Both of your future crimes will be met with violence, as will the crime of speaking, so choose wisely. Court dismissed. Goodnight.”

Grian and Scar exchanged a guilty look. There was plenty to fight over here, Scar having far more to complain about (not that this would stop Grian), but they’d been down that road, and it ended with both of them being locked out of Cub’s room.

Well. With Cub settled on the opposite edge of the bed, there was space. If they played their cards right..

Grian took his place on the backboard, keeping a careful eye on Cub as Scar tested the waters, not unlike a cat the way he pushed one hand, then two into the mattress. The dip did not seem to disturb Cub, who probably would have given the two of them a sharp glare by now if he was actually pissed off. Nope. He was probably just hot like he’d said, and this was the easiest way to communicate it. Grian didn’t really mind, and even if Scar hadn’t been asleep before, Grian doubted he minded either. If it hadn’t gone this way, Cub probably would have just kicked Scar until he woke up or rolled off anyway.

Grian took Scar’s hands, pulling him up with great care, like any disturbance of the bed would end with both of them back on the floor. Listen, it had already been established by now this wasn’t a danger, but sue a guy for imagining a little forbidden fun! Grian saw the glint of Scar’s smirk through the darkness, mirroring his internal sentiment. After Scar was settled in the most gentle of fashions, Grian hopped off the bed to crack the window, then retreated back to Scar’s arms, safer from the incoming chill.

“You’re cold,” he mumbled, just loud enough for Grian to hear.

“S’alright,” Grian replied, though the words might not have left his lips coherent enough to be heard. No worries. He wouldn’t be very cold for long.

(I was actually going to do more or all of what you requested and then this turned out to be. Bigger. Because I can’t help myself. Anyway!)

[ouroborosreilig]

What About Mr Tango Tek for the hermit requests? :)

tango of the tek variety

[zedif-y]

Zedaph is a being deeply connected to the void. It's almost like part of him. If he so chooses, he can connect to the deep below, merging his senses with it. Seeing through every part of the void and feeling anything that falls it. Mostly not that useful in the overworld, since it's all just bedrock, but it helps him navigate the end a little better.

Letting Tango into his void hole is, uh, a bit more intimate that it seems.

-headc-anon

Having a connection to the Void isn't as cool as it sounds.

This is all Zedaph's opinion, sure, but merging senses with complete nothingness isn't exactly the most thrilling experience. With how rarely things fall in there, he's pretty sure he'd be more excited watching paint dry. Or watching Impulse tear down his storage system again.

(This is ignoring the whole thing with the Boatem hole that one season. Not that Zed ever said anything about it— what was he supposed to say, stop flinging yourself into that hole, I can feel it? That just sounds weird.)

(It also entails talking to Grian. Which is arguably worse.)

So, uh. Point is, sometimes Zedaph... Forgets.

"Alright, Zed, you ready?" Tango asks, snapping him out of his thoughts. Zedaph blinks.

He stares down at the small hole, watches and feels the soft, droning hum of the nothingness wash over him— not quite beckoning, but familiar nonetheless.

"Yeah," He replies, giving his elytra a tug. Still there. He grins, then, "Race you there!"

"Hey-!"

Zedaph dives into the Void.

It feels like nothing. No air rushes by as he takes off, no cool breeze despite the thrust of his rockets. There's no resistance, not like swimming but not quite like flying, either. Not hot nor cold, just. Space.

Zedaph hums, it's really quite nice.

Until.

He shivers, the weird something's here sensation itching at the back of his mind. Something hot. Burning. Fast.

"Something of the Tek variety," Zedaph mutters to himself. He uses another rocket, eyes scanning the ceiling— "Aha!"

Zedaph taps his communicator, "Found your hole!"

"Already?!" Tango sputters, "I can barely see anything down here!"

Zedaph only laughs, feeling the paths Tango takes like a line in his mind, circling and looping around. "See harder!"

"Easy for you to say!"

Zedaph gasps when he shoots through the hole, both because of the sudden rush of air and because—

"Ow!"

—his face has become very well-acquainted with some rough stone. Ouch.

In the midst of checking if his nose is still intact, Tango speaks, his voice crackling through the communicator.

"Zed," He calls out, more than a little frantic. "Little help here?"

"One sec..." Zedaph groans, "I think I broke my face."

Tango laughs, "What, more?"

"You should be nicer to your savior, Tango."

"I'll be nicer when you tell me where my hole is!"

Zedaph huffs a laugh, smothering a joke. (He deserves an award for that.) He furrows his brow, focuses on Tango's location, his presence beaming like a star in space. He taps his communicator, "Alright, turn around, and fly left."

"Aye aye, captain!"

So Zedaph guides him, helps Tango soar through the Void until, finally—

Tango's voice crackles through the speaker, "I see it!"

Zedaph stands back, "You see it?"

"I see it!"

"Then get in here!"

Tango comes shooting through the hole, only narrowly avoiding colliding with Zed as he whizzes past—

"Ack!"

Zedaph laughs, full-bellied and pointing. "Broke your face!"

Tango flops backwards, clutching his nose.

"Shut up, jerkface!"

"You said you'd be nicer to me!"

"Not when you're laughing at me!"

They bicker until Zedaph's lungs hurt from laughing, their respective faces all fixed up and rockets replenished. As they gear up for the next attempt, (this time with dangling sheep!) Tango turns to him.

"By the way, how'd you know where I was down there?" He asks, head tilted in question. "You couldn't see me, could you?"

Zedaph shrugs, "Yes and no?" He rolls his shoulder, then fastens the straps of his elytra over his chest. "Not with my eyes, but, you know, my Void thing—"

"Your what thing?"

"My—" Zedaph stops. "My Void thing." At Tango's baffled silence, "You do know about my Void thing, yes?"

Tango's eyes are wide, then, "Ohhhh, yeah, your Void thing. I totally— psh, of course I know about— what the heck are you talking about?!"

Zedaph blinks. Stares.

"...Did I forget to mention it?" He asks, sheepish. Tango balks.

"Forget to mention what?!"

...Uh oh.

Perhaps... He forgets a little too hard.

[thedo0zyslider]

Scott, who is currnetly crammed into a small dirt hole, stares back at the green, cat like eyes blinking back at him in the almost utter darkness. The eyes of the one and only Tango. The one of the Tek variety.

Martyn had told him to hide, for just a little bit, and he hadn’t expected to wind up in the exact same hidey hole that the other last green on the sever had chosen.

It's an awkward thing, when Scott realizes he's crashed his neighbors hiding space. It also leads to a lot of staring into each other's eyes, because there is nowhere else to look. The hole is dark, only being illumated by a single torch light, and it is so small that he can barely see the walls past Tango's form.

Eventually though, after they've been staring long enough to memroize what each other's eyes look like in great detail. Tango lets out a gentle chuckle. "This is soooo bad if someone finds us!" His words are quiet, and his breath just falls short of Scott’s face.

"Yeah, yeah it would be." Scott agrees, a small smile escaping him. He cannot help but notice how close they are, how their bodies are flushed against each other. He can't help but notice how Tango practically has an arm around his lower torso, because bending it any other way would be uncomfortable. Scott notices how he's basically straddling the blaze as well, because a one by two hole will never be big enough for one person, let alone two.

"Soo....whatddya wanna do?" Tango jokes, his tail flicking against Scott's legs. He smiles in return, running a teasing hand over the other's chest.

"What ever you wanna do~" He purrs, leaning downwards. Tango smiles up at him, their foreheads bumping, until the blaze tits his head to the side a bit more, and a shiver of what feels like anticipation runs through Scott's body.

Their lips brush, just barely, before both them pull back. Well, it feels like both of them, but it's mainly Scott who does so. He's not very sure on going through with this is all after he thinks about it, even if he really really wanted to in the moment.

Based on what little he knew or Team T.I.E.S' members and their pasts, he had to wonder if Tango was with one of them. In a way that was more than friendship. He had to wonder if this would be cheating on anybody, because most of their servermates had formed some pretty steady relationships by this point. (Scott knew he was fine, because what him and Martyn were wasn't like that, but it also wasn't just a friendship either. And Martyn had said it was fine if explored other options, and he had agreed in return.)

Tango gives him a curious glance, one that's maybe a little concerned as well, and Scott voices his concerns.

"You're not gonna be...betraying anyone with this are you?" He asked, one of his hands having come down to cup Tango's cheek.

"No," Tango breathed, their faces barely two inches apart now. "Are you..?"

Scott shook his head no, but before he could finally lean in, there was the distinct sound of Grian’s voice above them. Because of course they would he interrupted right during the best moment, of course.

Both men froze in an instant, yet at the same time not moving away from each other, and stayed deathly silent as footsteps sounded above them. It takes a few minutes of Grian yelling at someone a bit further away, who seems to be either Joel or Jimmy, before their avian friend is gone and the world above them is silent once again.

Scott can barely believe it. They were less than ten blocks under the surface, and half of the people chasing them couldn't even think to dig out so much as a shallow hole. What were the odds of that.

"I don't think they're gonna find us for a while....." Tango murmured against his lips a moment later, warm breath ghosting over Scott’s face; his husky voice feeling rather loud in the newfound silence. And that's the moment be decides to hell with it, and promptly connects their lips.

Kissing Tango is warm and lovely and something like Scott’s never done before. It's less hotter and flamey than it looks like it would be in all honesty. At least in one way for now, because there are hands tugging at his hair and they are edging him on a great deal.

He bites Tango's lip when they go back in for seconds, and the blaze whines at that. Scott kisses him harder after that, and the only thing keeping him from destroying the blonde's neck was the fact that Tango had beaten him too it.

Sharp teeth graze over his neck as soon as they disconnect for a second time, teasingly running over his gills. Scott hums in pleasure when Tango finally bites down, and moves to grab ahold of the back of the blazeborn's head and wrap his fingers in soft blonde hair. Scott cranes his neck back after a moment, letting Tango have more access to bite and bruise his skin.

Not long after that there is the sound of blocks breaking, and the two of them fail to notice until there is more light flooding the hole than torchlight could ever provide. Tango looks up, cat like pupils expanding again, and softly moves away from where he was biting Scott’s neck. Much to the latters disappointment.

Thankfully, it is only Martyn, who blinks at them while he's processing what he just walked in on. As his ally does this, Scott scarmbles off Tango, already missing the other's warmth, and practically stumbles out of the entrance Martyn had made.

"We're you two making out down there!?" Martyn exclaims, a tease and laugh on tge edge of his tone. He's pushed out into the sunlight by Tango, who is blushing like Scott had never seen him before. He sees how much of a mess the blaze truly is once they aren't shoved in a whole and has proper lighting, and he's sure he looks worse. Considering what exactly they'd been doing when Martyn found the two of them.

"Did you want in or something?" Scott asks, and giggles when the comment ends in both the blonde's blushing. That's where Martyn decides to call it a day, and that it's time for Tango to go home. No more making out today, not for the two of them anyways.

But before he leaves Tango presses a fleeting kiss to Scott’s red and puffy lips, and murmurs a promise to visit him later. Scott murmurs back that he'll be waiting, and prepares himself to endure all his teammates teases on the way back home.

[pixiemage]

My Fate Is In Your Hands - Entry 7

[ Entry List ]

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[A/N: This is a story entirely guided by you guys, by the readers. Be sure to vote at the end of each entry! ALSO, if you'd like to be added the tag list, please let me know and I'll be sure to add you next time!]

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

➤ Examine the patches. He could learn something new about the familiar stranger.

Learning more about the stranger Jimmy rescued can only help the situation…right? The more they know about him, the better they can handle the situation…and the better they can help him.

The spacesuit the pilot is wearing used to be pure white, Jimmy’s sure, even if it was now dusted in gray and black and red, ash and soot and mesa sand. But even then it’s in fairly good condition despite the crash, and the patches stitched into the fabric and their accompanying lettering are still legible. Jimmy squints at the text, reading past the damage.

The word H.A.S.A. is stitched on a round blue-and-red patch at his shoulder, though the logo isn't one he recognizes. And there's another string of letters across the man's chest, backed in red and sewn in black - something Jimmy can only assume must be a name.

T. TEK

It’s familiar, much like the stranger himself. This, too, feels like something Jimmy should know, and it tugs at his mind, at a memory just out of reach.

"...of the Tek variety. Nice to meet ya! So he dragged you into his game too, huh? Heh, should be a good time..."

There's a cocky sort of grin hovering out of sight, and eyes he can't make out the color of that sparkle with a chaotic sort of mischief. He pauses and pulls the cleaning cloth away to stare at the still and expressionless face of the man on the bed. He swears he knows him.

"...welcome, contestants! This is Dare to Flare..."

"...called You Bet Your Life. Basically, what it is..."

Jimmy reaches out against his better judgment and runs his fingers over the nametag, the stitching raised beneath his touch. He frowns, chewing his lip, a flurry of familiar words and voices running through his head like an echo as he puzzles over what that first initial might stand for. Then–

“Noooo! No, I’m so sorry–”“What happened, Tango? Take me through it…”

Tango.

Tango.

Tango Tek.

Jimmy lets out a breath with wide eyes, tracing the letters again with his fingertip and letting that revelation sink in. He doesn’t know how he knows it’s right, he just knows. He can’t explain it. He’s still staring in wonder at the soot-dusted nametag when he hears the sound of approaching rockets and jolts from his thoughts.

Oh, void, right. The crash. Shelby. Potions. Gods, he’s being an idiot–

Jimmy carefully cleans the rest of the blood and soot from the pilot’s face with all the gentleness he can muster, and he’s only just depositing the cloth back in its bowl when he hears Shelby calling from the front door.

“In here!” he returns, his eyes lingering on the stranger - on Tango. “Bedroom!”

Now that Shelby’s here, he feels a little (a lot) more confident that Tango’s going to be alright. For now, he can focus on helping patch him up. For now, he can shove the odd familiarity of the not-stranger from his thoughts. Later, he can ponder at why he even knows Tango’s name and why his face feels so achingly familiar…but later. Later. Maybe when Tango is finally awake. Maybe he’ll gain some answers to his questions then. Later.

The door clicks open and Shelby nearly trips into the room, clutching her oversized hat to her head with one hand and scrambling to catch her broomstick with the other, just barely managing not to fall.

“Who is it? What happened? Whaddaya need?” she asks in a rush, clumsily kicking the door shut again and leaning her broom in the corner of the room. “What’s – oh my gosh.”

Jimmy sets the water and rag aside as she comes closer, smiling sheepishly at her wide-eyed expression.

“So, er…” He gestures toward the pilo- Tango. Toward Tango. “Funny story. A spaceship crashed outside Tumble Town an’ this is the pilot.” Shelby’s wide eyes turn to him instead and he chuckles weakly. “Trust me, I know how crazy it sounds,” he says, and she comes over to stand beside him and stare down at Tango’s unconscious form.

She pokes his leg with her finger.

“Is he an alien?” she stage-whispers, and Jimmy almost laughs. Almost. Instead, he twitters weakly and gestures to Tango’s non-human features.

“I don’t know!” he says, a bit hysterical. “He fell out of the sky! And he was unconscious when I found him, it’s not like I could ask! He’s - look,” Jimmy yanks off his hat and rakes his fingers through his hair, sighing heavily. “Look, all I know is he’s hurt, alright? I just wanna help ‘im.”

At this, Shelby jolts.

“Oh! Potions! Right! Sorry!” She swipes through the air, summoning her inventory and rifling through it for what she needs. Colorful glass bottles fall into her hands and she sets them on the bed one by one, red and pink and orange clinking softly against each other. Health. Regeneration. Fire resistance.

The last one makes Jimmy pause. He hangs his hat on the chair by the bed and picks up the orange-filled bottle from the collection. He tilts it in his hand, the light of the lanterns overhead reflecting off the glass and making the potion inside look like lava. He recalls what he thought he’d seen on the flight over, the dancing light in Tango’s hair that he was so sure were flames. Then his eyes fall on Tango, remembering the bruises and the scrapes he’d acquired…but no burns, as far as Jimmy could tell. No burns.

“...I don’t think he needs this one,” Jimmy murmurs, and that same certainty stirs in his chest that he’d felt upon realizing Tango’s name.

Shelby doesn’t notice, too busy darting around the bed to get a closer look at Tango - what little of him wasn’t covered by his spacesuit.

“Hmm…we probably need to get him out of this thing to see how bad it is,” she muses, her head tilting to the side and her hat tipping precariously. Her eyes widen. “Oh, geez - he’s bleeding. Hang on–”

Jimmy’s breath catches and he abandons the fire resistance potion where he found it. Right! The head wound. Void, he’d forgotten–

Jimmy quickly offers her a clean cloth across the bed and she pours bright red potion onto it, tugging aside Jimmy’s makeshift bandage and replacing it with the healing-doused rag. Shelby sets the open bottle on the bedside table and reaches for a pink one instead, tugging out the cork with her teeth.

“Any chance you know how to get this spaceman armor off?” she asks, dripping regen carefully onto the rag she’s already using, the scent of sweet melons and nether spice wafting into the air.

“Er–” Jimmy blinked down at the spacesuit, at the odd stiff collar the helmet had been attached to and the thick material the suit was made from. He can’t see a zipper or buttons of any kind at a glance - though he’s sure he can find an opening somewhere if Shelby really needs him to.

“I dunno,” he tells her with a wince, taking up a cloth of his own to start tending to the other scrapes and cuts littering Tango’s face from his shattered visor. “But he got into it somehow, right?”

Shelby nods, her tongue sticking out between her teeth as she focuses on her task.

“Let’s get this sorted first, then we can take a look,” she tells him, taking a tick to glance up at him. Maybe she can tell how concerned he is, because she flashes him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, Sheriff! He’ll be fine. I’m great at potions, and you’re great at taking care of people. We’ve got this!”

Jimmy lets out a soft, tired breath and returns the smile.

They’ve got this. The stranger will be okay.

Tango will be okay.

...

At the maw of a glowing purple rift that cuts a jagged shape into the wall of the massive cave it calls home, an avian with macaw-colored wings stands gaping at its purpureal light. A pair of well-worn goggles is clutched in his grip, flecks of redstone dust rubbing off onto his skin. He’s quiet. He’s quiet, and his eyes mirror the rift before him in both color and luminescence.

Almost an hour has passed since he arrived to find a friend standing where he now stands, his blue hair ablaze and an untamable emotion spilling off of him in waves. Tango had looked so upset, so desperate…and Grian hadn’t quite been able to talk him out of his insane idea.

“You said it’s a portal to other worlds. Plural. So one of ‘em could be his.”

“Technically, maybe, but - but it’s unstable! Why d’you think I’ve been experimenting with–”

“Screw unstable! You said you sent stuff through, right?”

“Yes, but I haven’t gotten anything back. And I haven’t even tried to send a player through–”

“Then send me.”

“What?! Tango–!”

“I’m going through either way. You might as well collect the data when I do–”

“No! Absolutely not! Xisuma would have my head - Impulse would have my head if I let you–”

“You’re not letting me do anything. I’m going.”

The rest of the conversation had spiraled, had exploded, had careened out of control - and Tango had thrown himself through the rift before Grian could stop him. He hadn’t been able to stop him. So…he’d Watched. He’d kept an eye on his friend, as well as he could when following a speck through an endless and unpredictable schism in space, but he’d Watched.

He’s Watching.

He sees the connection, the transformation, the way the narrative of the Empires server brings Tango into her fold, morphing a piece of his past into the form he takes in the present. He may have been acting as a dungeon master on Hermitcraft, but on Empires he becomes a pilot. He becomes an astronaut. He becomes the desperate not-quite-hero he’d been at the end of the last season, and he crashes.

Grian keeps his Eye on Tango for as long as he can, or at least up until he watches Jimmy salvage him from the wreck and bring him home. It’s only when Jimmy and a witch from a neighboring empire are arranging potions on the bedside table that he pulls away, letting out a breath and massaging the bridge of his nose.

Voidammit, Tango.

At least now Grian has more reason to rush and finish fixing the rift. They’re going to need to get Tango back eventually…he can only hope the narrative doesn’t affect Tango’s memories too much in the meanwhile. And at least he found his soulmate again. He’ll be happy there until the Hermits can reach him. Jimmy will make sure of it, Grian knows.

Soulmates don’t ever stop being soulmates, after all.

:3

[Tag List] @firefly124 @mellioops @beaversuenightly @aris-has-a-paracosm @sincerely-nines @changeling-ash

Let me know if you'd like to be added!

[nonhumanhermitheadcanons]

I remember thinking about the robot tango headcannon and realized something

One of Tango's iconic catchphrases is "Tango of the Tek variety" now there are two questions to ask here

Are there other Tangos of different varieties?

Are there other Tangos out there of the Tech Variety?

If tango was a robot, he was probably mass produced

It's something Tango doesn't like talking about. He doubts humans would like confronting the idea they weren't actually one of a kind, either! They don't have to, though, with their stupid genetics and organicness.

Tango is unique, though! As unique as a mass-produced robot can be. Where most of the Tango line are limited to their coding and purpose, he's expanded from it. Sure, he still likes redstone best, but he's learning to build! To create games! And he's doing it for himself, not for whoever bought him.

He also likes to think he's pretty funny, but that's neither here nor there.

It remains risky for him to leave the safety of Hermitcraft. Most people don't look past the fact he's supposed to be a stupid, thoughtless robot. They ask if he's lost, where his owner is. The worst ones have subtly tried to stealificate him! And that still doesn't compare to seeing another of the Tango robots. Their blank, smiling expressions, their stock phrases and neverending cheer.

Ugh, the thought makes him shiver.

So, Tango might be of the Tek variety. But he's also of the Hermit variety, and he's not letting anyone take that away from him!