Last Player AU - Rayvee (2024)

Chapter 1: Very Important Links

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Alright, so a few people seem to be asking about it:

Here is a translator for Standard Galactic, the language Players use and comes into play when they're speaking it near a Human who doesn't understand the language.

Here is a translator for a Pigpen Cipher, which comes into play when a Human is speaking to/around a Player who doesn't know English.

Here isTeaching Your Faun English,an absolutely fantastic semicanon fic written by frequent anon and more frequent commenter Arrow_Awesome which you should absolutely go read. Go tell them how amazing they are. This is an order.

Here is another fic by Arrow, this time about Tango and Stress in Antarctica! Once again: Send Arrow all the love. Do it. Go.

And here is my Tumblr, where I post all of these posts, shorter rambles in response to asks, and art of my pretty dragon collection among other things. You can send your own asks in, either relevant to the Last Player AU or not.

I'm inserting this into the start so people see it.

Chapter 2: Establishing Basic Worldbuilding

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In this case, the ancient civilisation was, in fact, Players. Players came in a variety of shapes, sizes, species, etc. Humans, Mob Hybrids, Werefolk, Cyborgs, Shapeshifters, assorted Halloween monsters, full-on robots, aliens, technically-not-aliens-but-basically-aliens… the list goes on. Now, what made someone a Player was never particularly well-defined due to sheer variety, but there were a few common threads. Players could break, pick up and place blocks, they could use chests, crafting tables and their own inventories, they could respawn in non-hardcore worlds, and they had a certain level of intelligence (about on par with, say, a human).

So, anyway. One of the most common threads were that Players- all Players- had access to magic. Typically this manifested in the form of inventories, crafting, being able to break/place solid 1m³ blocks, and, of course, enchanting, with Admin and Operator powers manifesting in various worlds for specific people. There were other forms of magic, of course, but learning those typically required (at minimum) a lot of study and/or a level of attunement to that particular branch of magic.

Players lived in communities, on worlds- in this AU, all the worlds were connected, but separated by the world borders. The various Hermitcraft worlds were some of these, as were 3rd Life and Legacy SMP and Hypixel and so on.

So, that’s the worldbuilding preamble out of the way.

The worlds updated every now and then, and they added, tweaked and (occasionally) removed various mobs, blocks and mechanics. But this update, the Final Update… nobody’s quite sure why, but it removed magic.

Not completely, of course. It set in slowly. Villagers no longer transformed when they were slain by zombies. The monsters of the night became less and less common. Portals became unreliable, until they eventually stopped working entirely. World borders started to fail (and I feel sorry for those unlucky enough to neighbour servers like 2b2t). Enchanting became more temperamental. Still, Players were adaptable. They could manage.

Until they couldn’t. See, while Players had magic running through their systems, and had since the universe had existed, all of a sudden their children…didn’t. The big problem was that most species- Hybrids, Werefolk, Spaeshifters, Aliens and not-exactly-aliens… their biology meant their children physically couldn’t survive without magic. The one exception? Humans.

Already in the majority, humans were the only race who could still produce living children. But these children weren’t Players. They had no inventories, no ability to use a crafting table or break a block with their bare fists like their forebears. They managed though, adapting and creating new ways to craft and smelt. And as time went on… they became the only ones left.

See, while Players were all long-lived, and capable of respawn, they did eventually experience the Final Death, from which there was no coming back (ignoring the occasional ghost, resurrection, or any necromancy-related shenanigans that were frankly extremely rare to begin with). And as time wore on, Players slowly died out, until all that were left were those who were Undying, and the Humans who weren’t Players (it’s worth mentioning that Immortals and Undying were two different peoples. Immortality was granted by the gods; when the gods faded, their gifts faded with them. Undying, on the other hand, were those who had experienced their Final Death but kept going. Undead beings, if you will). Undying could be killed, if their body was so badly maimed their soul had no choice to fly free, but not so badly they would just respawn; as Human societies developed, many Undead succumbed to this fate, either by choice or by force, acts done by fearful Humans.

Let’s go forward, now.

It’s been over two thousand years since the Players died out, and longer since the Final Update. There is only one world now, the world borders long forgotten. The Players are myths, legends; a mysterious race, now long gone, their builds crumbling to ruin. Nobody has encountered a zombie or creeper for millennia; the only spiders left are small and harmless, a far cry from the creatures once large enough for a skeleton to ride.

Archeologists study the ruins Players left behind. One city, Hermiton, was originally a camping ground for people to study the various ruins in the area; the crumbling remains of a vast monument, the stump of a tree larger than should ever have been possible, a gaping hole some claim leads to the centre of the Earth.

Near Hermiton lies a vast forest, beside the footprint of what had once been an immense mansion. The forest is a mixture of different species, most likely transplanted thousands of years ago. In that forest lives… something. A ghost? A spirit? a cryptid?

Whatever it is, it’s not human. The locals claim she looks like a woman, with glowing eyes and long red hair. They call her the Green Lady, for the colour of her skin. They say her teeth are sharp, and that dark claws tip her fingers. They say her cheeks are hollow, her eyes are sunken- but that her gaze holds a fire no Human could hope to match. They say she lives in the forest, and that she is its guardian. They say that anyone who tries to chop down the trees, to clear the land, will face her wrath.

Outsiders will write this off as a modern-day folk tale, an urban myth. But believe it or not, there is something- someone- who dwells in the woods. Someone who brings those lost home. Someone who intercedes if there’s danger. Someone who will run through the forest with a familiarity only born from centuries, millennia, of practice.

They don’t know who she is. She’s a guardian spirit. She’s a ghost. She’s been there since the Ancients walked the land. They’re not wrong about that last one. Once, she altered a sign planted by the one responsible for the enormous tree. Once, she had her arm sewn back on by the person who’d built the immense mansion. Once, she threatened the man who dug the vast hole, the one they say leads to the centre of the Earth.

She’s a Player, the last one left. She’s a zombie, the only one to still walk the Earth. She’s alone. Once, she had a family, a home. She dwells near the ruins of that home, even now. Her kind, her kin; they’re long gone. She’s the only one to remain.

She waits for the day her family will return. It’s written in the stars, in the fabric of the Universe. They will return. And she will be there, ready to greet them with open arms. For the Universe is kind. The Universe loves its Players.

Alone in the forest, ZombieCleo, Master of Puppets, the Undead and Undying, the Last Player, waits. She’ll be there, when her family, her hermits, return.

Even if it takes another two thousand years.

Chapter 3: Cleo and Hermiton

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So the thing is, the citizens in general don’t really know what Cleo’s deal is. They’re aware that she exists, that she lives in the forest, that pissing her off is a bad idea but she might help you out if you manage to get lost (the forest is actually officially considered a state park, because nobody can really do anything else with it without Cleo interceding, and Cleo herself doesn’t really exist from a legal standpoint). So it’s typically believed she’s some sort of fae-esque being, or something. It’s not really clear.

Cleo herself doesn’t really talk much, not to Humans, anyway. She sort of subconsciously chooses to distance herself, because she’s Undying and Humans, well, aren’t. She’s lost plenty of people over the years, and it hurts her every time. It’s better to not get attached at all, even if it does mean she does get lonely.

It’s worth mentioning that Cleo can and does leave the forest! The forest is where she… dwells (can’t exactly say lives, can I? And it’s not her home, not really, because her home was never a place, it was a people), but she’s free to exit it. She goes into the city sometimes, usually at night, covered up so the unnatural hue of her skin isn’t as obvious (the orange colour of the streetlights also tend to throw the colour off). She pays for things legitimately, usually by selling off gold nuggets that she got from mining, because what else is she going to do with gold? Besides, it’s the currency here. Even though it’s practically useless. Eh, maybe Humans have discovered some use that she isn’t aware of. Who knows.
And yes, the gold nuggets do, in fact, reinforce the faerie theory.

Now, here’s the odd thing: Cleo doesn’t talk much, but she does talk. But the citizens still refer to her as just 'the Green Lady’. Why is that?

Basically? Nobody thinks to ask. The thing is… Cleo’s a zombie. Not only that, she’s the only zombie left. And Humans fear zombies instinctually. Even though zombies- true zombies- haven’t existed for thousands of years, there’s an ancestral memory that fears the monsters of the night. And Cleo tends to activate it.

So often during encounters, people tend to freeze up, and stumble over their words- they’re not really in the headspace to ask for her name until they start to relax, and by that point the encounter’s usually over. And Cleo just… doesn’t think to mention. She’s used to instinctively knowing someone’s name when she looks at them [the equivalent of Players being able to read Player tags/ nametags], and keeps forgetting that Humans can’t do that.

She does have a degree of respect for them, though! While it’s difficult for her to wrap her head around the fact they don’t see the world in blocks and chunks, she’s aware they don’t have things like inventories or much strength, and can’t help but feel impressed that they manage to build things in spite of this (once she tried to go a week without using her inventory. It was a pain in the ass. Using it is just second nature to her).

Chapter 4: In the Forest

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Alright, so while I’ve made it pretty obvious, I’ll just come out and say it: this AU takes place in the remains of the Season 7 world. Specifically, the jungle where Grian, Mumbo, Scar, Iskall, Stress and Ren all settled. The forest which I should probably name at some point is actually what’s left of Grian’s tree farm, although now very overgrown and capable of supporting an ecosystem.

Of course, the jungle itself doesn’t really exist any more, due to climate change and deforestation. Also, there was a big forest fire a few centuries back. Place never recovered. And now Hermiton’s there! Situated in what was once the central lake. And around it.

Smaller stuff like the Hobbit holes, the magical village and Stress’ base are pretty much completely gone, with maybe one or two blocks left here and there. The bigger builds- the Omega Tree, the Grian’s Mansion, Mumbo’s Living Base, and Tatooren- are in ruin. The only remaining terraforming is the lava rivers in Ren’s base; the rest has been worn away by time. Only the footprints of the various bases are still standing, although some (the Omega Tree) are better off than others (Grian’s Mansion).

So, anyway. Cleo’s forest. Which was originally Grian’s tree farm. Yes. That one. It’s spread over the centuries, taking over quite a sizable area of land; I’m not sure about exact measurements. Cleo actually lives underground, because she’s less likely to be bothered there than if she’d had an aboveground base. Somehow, nobody’s stumbled across it, and the entrance is hidden by armour stands holding blocks to create a false wall one can quite literally walk through. And is also halfway up a cliff (I hc Cleo as still having some cave spider code in her system from the Head Games, and that between that and the time she lived in a pirate ship she’s become extremely good at climbing).

Cleo is a zombie. Zombies are carnivorous. Cleo often spends some time in the day (or night) hunting for food; she’s careful to vary her meals so she doesn’t cut into one specific animal population too deeply. It’s worth noting that, considering how she’s lived in that forest for the better part of two thousand years, Cleo actually is part of the ecosystem, and it’s adapted accordingly.

She’s got certain boundaries in place, of course. No eating cats or dogs unless she’s really desperate, and if it’s someone’s pet she’ll never do it. No human flesh, ever, because that’s not a habit you want to get into.

Cleo spends the rest of her time gathering resources, expanding and decorating her base, tweaking her armour stands, documenting and redocumenting stuff (because there’s literally nobody else who remembers the Old World), browsing the internet (her communicator has internet access), and keeping an eye on the humans wandering around in her forest.

While the forest is officially a state park, it doesn’t have any park rangers and only a handful of campgrounds and walking trails, most of which are near the edge. A large portion of the forest is just untamed wilds, with nothing but animal trails for paths. And Cleo. Who uses those animal trails, or just jumps from tree to tree like a squirrel or something.

Cleo has… Opinions, when it comes to hunters. Sure, she hunts animals herself, but that’s for food, not for sport. If you’re not gonna eat it, it’s a waste of resources. And life.
She’s a zombie. She has a special appreciation for life and death.

Back on subject. Hunters. Cleo’s usual method for dealing with them is typically to scare them off, because when a fae/cryptid/thing randomly shows up out of nowhere and just… stares at you unblinkingly, you get the hels out of there (or you try to shoot it, which obviously does nothing, because, again, zombie who does not have functioning organs and is also a Player with natural regen). If that doesn’t work, Cleo threatens them with her usual subtlety.

Oh, and sometimes she goes off to rob museums. Look, she has a good reason for it, okay?! But that’s another post.

Chapter 5: Attempting to Develop (the Forest)

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So Cleo does tend to keep to herself. As I mentioned in the first post, while some citizens of Hermiton are aware of her existence, most people tend to write her off as an urban myth if they’re aware of her at all.

So, of course, when some rich guy- I haven’t got a name picked out for him, so let’s go with Paul [no offense intended for any Pauls out there, of course]- decided that Hermiton could use more housing, and that he could build those houses and sell them, and therefore make money. As you do.

And, even better, there was this nice, large piece of land with nothing built on it. Once they cleared out those pesky trees, they’d have plenty of room to put up apartment blocks or something.

Cleo is a zombie. Zombies are humanity’s natural predators. As a result, their senses- sight, smell, hearing- are heightened in comparison. So it’s no surprise Cleo hears and smells the vehicles and tools when they roll up at the edge of the forest nearest Hermiton. Naturally, she goes to investigate.

Cleo is fast- much faster than any Human, that’s for sure. The people haven’t been there for an hour before one of them catches a glimpse of red among the trees. The problem? Humans need ear protection when working with power tools. Cleo’s sensitive hearing means she can’t get too close without going deaf, and even if it would just be temporary until her eardrums regenerate, it still wouldn’t be fun.

So she goes for the next best option- hang around at a safe distance and glare at them until they stop. Shockingly, it actually works, probably because seeing a pair of glowing, unblinking green eyes staring at them from the depths of the woods tends to freak people out. When the figure- the Green Lady, the one always assumed to be a myth- suddenly melted out of the shadows… well, you can imagine the reaction. Shock, fear, confusion, denial. And the fear increased when she demanded to know who was responsible for this. After a flurry of death threats, some waving of an axe, and one case of Cleo punching a hole through a car to prove a point, Cleo got Paul’s name, told them all to get out of Rainbow Forest and stay out, and glared at them until they left.

Then she went home and Googled Paul until she found the location of his office. Look, she’s fully aware that she’s technically stalking, and that it’s not a great look, but in her defence he’s trying to turn her forest into housing without her consent, so who’s the real villain here?

So Paul goes into work, and as he sits at his desk his gaze drifts toward the window, and then he freezes, because he’s on a very high floor but there is a lady standing on his windowsill glaring at him what the actual f*ck. How did she get there. Why is her skin green.

He calls security, which is understandable, really, because Cleo seems fine despite standing on a narrow windowsill, and she’s eyeing him in a way that reminds Paul of a predator sizing up her prey. Which she kind of is.

When security arrive and they open the window, the Green Lady steps into the room, pulls out an enchanted axe and points it at him, orders Paul to never touch her forest again “or I’ll use your skin to make curtains”, and leaves again. Through the window. The one that’s over a hundred metres above the ground.

And that was the last time anyone tried to develop Rainbow Forest!

Chapter 6: Robbing Museums

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When it became clear that Players were going to die out, Joe and Cleo went through as many hermit-affiliated worlds as they could, gathering up personal belongings, old books, tools, weapons, armour- everything they could manage, for the sake of preservation. Even now, Cleo guards the single largest collection of Player artefacts in the world. It’s large enough it would require a minimum of eight trips to transport it all, even with the aid of bundles, shulkers and an ender chest. That’s why she’s stayed in the same place for so long.

But here’s the thing: the hermits have had a lot of worlds. Like, a lot of worlds. There’s the normal Hermitcraft worlds, of course, but there’s also Foolcraft and Feed the Beast and 3rd Life and Etho’s singleplayer world and so many others. It’s a lot for one zombie to keep track of! So it’s no surprise some places slipped through the cracks. Sure, they managed to get through all the main ones, but Beef alone had a dozen worlds. The hermits weren’t exactly a small group. Sometimes the humans found them first. And they put artefacts on display or in storage in museums all over the planet.

So, naturally, sometimes Cleo goes to steal a hermit’s personal belongings back. Although, is it really stealing if it used to belong to a family member that’ll come back someday? Yes. Usually she gets them from museums, where they’re neatly organized and she can just yoink them. Yes, museums have security. No, it’s not massively effective against a lady who’s partially spider, can mine through walls and floors with nothing but a pickaxe, and has no sense of self-preservation.

She wears a spider mask (is it a mask?) when she breaks into places, as well as a hoodie (to hide her hair and flower crown), and trousers. They’re not super baggy, but they obscure her silhouette well enough, especially considering how she’s extremely bony because, yanno, zombie. The newspapers call her the Black Spider (which is inaccurate, because Cave Spiders are very dark teal), and tend to get obsessed every time she pops up. She gets caught on security cameras quite a bit, mostly because she doesn’t really care. What are they going to do, charge an inhuman being who doesn’t legally exist, which they can’t even catch? Good luck.

And yes, it does drive the authorities crazy! They’ve got fingerprints, but they can’t match them to anything. They’ve got footage, but that doesn’t explain how this guy (everyone thinks the Black Spider is male; she’s not) gets in and out. They’ve got hair samples, but any attempts at building a DNA profile fail because they expect to look for a human from the twenty-first century, not a zombie from the BCEs. And so Cleo gets away, over and over again, because Players have been gone for so long Humanity has forgotten how to handle them.

One thing that drives everyone crazy is why she takes the items she takes. There are numerous, far more valuable, items in the museums she raids. Why go for one specific trident, when right next to it is a square metre of solid gold? Why grab that sword, when there were other, more ornate weapons in the same room? What’s so different about this particular crossbow in comparison with all the others? The answer, of course, is in the previous owners, but the detectives don’t know that. They don’t know that the trident’s odd grip was shaped to fit a mechanical hand, or that the runes on the sword translate to Beeskalibur, or that that same crossbow was once used to shoot a man with glowing red eyes in the face as he danced.

Cleo gatherers these things, these pieces. Because when her family returns, she’ll have their belongings waiting for them.

Chapter 7: Recap

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1. Players are the fantasy trope of 'ancient highly advanced civilisation that then died out'.
2. They died out because the Final Update removed their ability to pass magic down to their children, as well as removing general magic from the world.
3. Meaning nonmagical (and therefore nonplayer) Humans are the only race really left.
4. Immortal Players did exist, but when Players died out, so did the gods. When the gods faded, their gifts (including immortality) faded with them.
5. Which meant that, as time went on, the only players left were the few Undying folk (Immortals refuse to die, Undying refuse to stay dead).
6. But as Human society developed, they began to fear these last remnants of the ancient race, and frequently hunted down & permakilled them (there are ways to do that. They're complicated, but they do exist.)
7. Which meant that, eventually, only one Player still exists- ZombieCleo. Yes I have a Cleo bias it's painfully obvious.
8. Cleo now dwells in a place called Rainbow Forest, which was formerly Grian's Season 7 tree farm. She spends her time hunting wildlife for food, rescuing idiots who managed to get lost, terrifying anyone who tries to develop her forest, robbing the occasional museum, and waiting for the day the hermits return,
9. because one day, they will return. It's written in the universe's code. She just has to wait. Because the universe loves us, for we are love. She just has to hold on until then. She just has to hold on until then.

Chapter 8: Magic

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Magic in its purest form is an innate part of the Universe. It lies dormant in everything- the air, the water, the earth and sun. Everywhere, in comparatively small amounts, although it’s not completely evenly distributed- some places contain more than others (it’s not like ley lines, it’s more like, say, geography, in that some areas you have mountains/large amounts of magic, and in some areas you have holes/low amounts of magic. Although in this context the mountains and holes tend to go for a walk). The Final Update prevented this magic from doing what it’s meant to do- spawning mobs, growing trees instantaneously, making portals to the Nether, etc. (This isn’t a retcon, this is just me finally explaining something I’m really bad at explaining)

Former Hermitcraft worlds tend to consistently have high amounts of magic, due to the fact they poured their hearts and souls into their builds and machines. That kind of love tends to linger, even after the physical builds are long gone.

Players, much like magic, are pieces of the Universe. Humans are too, but Players are the only ones who can connect with the other building blocks around them in the way they do. It’s how they craft and mine, use inventories and furnaces (Inventories, in this case, are a Player’s own personal pocket dimension. When their Player dies, it destabilizes, causing the items kept inside it to explode everywhere).

The thing is, without any magic being used (with the exception of Cleo, which is not nearly enough), it tends to build up. And after two thousand years… well, that’s a lot of buildup. Enough buildup, in fact, that eventually the Universe has to do something, or its Humans will start to suffer the effects. And the Universe cares for its Humans, even if they don’t care for themselves.

The Universe is a game. Cleo is its last Player. And the Universe cares for its Player. The Universe sees what its Player wants.

A rush of magic combines into a spell that hasn’t been used in a very, very long time. Respawn.

Chapter 9: Seek and Find

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Cleo browsed the news feeds. She did this regularly; it was always good to know what the Humans were up to. Most of it was the regular- politicians being horrible people, more on the pandemic that had been going on for at least a year, nonsense about celebrities she really didn’t have time for.
But one headline caught her eye.
Archaeologists believe mysterious ‘appearing man’ could be key in understanding ancient race.

Below it was a picture, blurred and fuzzy, with a human blocking much of the shot.
Cleo dropped her comm.
She’d know that man anywhere.

Cleo had no car, no license, and no knowledge of how to drive a car, so she did the next best thing and found a train that would run to the city where she’d find him- a place called Flence (what kind of city named itself Flence?!)
It was an overnight trip, but Cleo was fine. Zombies didn’t need sleep to function.

What was more notable were the reactions of the other passengers. Cleo wore a facemask in accordance with the rules (she couldn’t get sick, but it was easier to not argue), and she pulled a hood over her head, but there was no hiding the unnatural hue of her skin, or the way her eyes softly glowed in low light.

Still, most people just gave her space and left her alone. It was fine.

She settled in for the long trip.

She reached Flence without incident, and took her first steps into the city.
Cleo had done her research, and she knew which hospital the hermit had been taken to. It was quite far away, but Cleo would be fine. She could walk it.

The hospital was being swarmed by reporters.

Humans- either security or police- were keeping them out of the hospital proper, but Cleo had an advantage over both reporters and security.
She could climb.

Cleo slipped around the reporters, angling towards one side of the building. The only door on this wall appeared to be a fire door, but the zombie didn’t care. She wasn’t going to use it.

Cleo stayed flat against the wall, peeking through each window. She was looking for either an empty room or the one the other hermit was being kept in as he was checked for injuries.
Unsurprisingly, she found the latter first.

The window was locked, but something so basic would never be successful at keeping a Player out. Cleo replaced the glass pane before padding into the hospital proper.

Hospitals could be overwhelming for her- there was such a multitude of sounds and smells everywhere, and she wasn’t used to having to filter out so much information. She could, however, feel something- not scent, not sound, but some instinctual tugging, guiding her through the white halls.

She followed it, of course- it wasn’t like she had any better ideas- and it strangely didn’t leave her astray. Instead, she soon found herself face-to-face with a nurse, who was calmly trying to tell her the ‘Appearing Man' was not permitted to have visitors.

Cleo responded in her language- the long-lost tongue of the Players. It was a language she still spoke regularly- to herself. Nobody else had heard it in centuries.
It was the language the other hermit would be speaking.

After a whispered argument, ZombieCleo stepped through the door and saw the Player she’d traveled all this way to find.

“Howdy, Cleo,” Joe Hills said, that familiar smile on his lips. “Good to see you again.”

Chapter 10: Transalation

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Cleo has been living alone for so long that having another Player- even if it's someone she's as intrinsically familiar with as Joe- around and living with her is honestly strange. She doesn't mind though- gods know she's missed having him around! He keeps her mentally stimulated at the very least.

Nobody else knows what he's going on about. Cleo used to 'translate' for Joe, back when Hermitcraft was still ongoing, but now her translating is a lot more literal.

(Joe's learning, of course. Eventually he'll figure out the modern English language and then all bets are off. But for now, he has to rely on Cleo.)

Chapter 11: Causing Chaos on Purpose

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Cleo’s frankly on board, mostly because she needs entertainment more than anything. And running circles around the authorities sounds like a great weekend plan, so why not? And it’ll do the Humans some good to remember the Old World.

(They’re both doing it just to mess with people. They can justify it all they want but we all know why they’re actually doing this.)

Cleo uses the armour stand book to change the pose of every statue in the city. Joe leaves a lecture made of signs in front of a bank. It’s about the ethics of those single-hole water-based cow farms. And also written in Galactic (Player language). Cleo creates a replica of Mr Red on one of the main roundabouts, in all his skinless, underpants-wearing glory. Joe builds a scale model of the Parthenon on the roof of one of the big skyscrapers.

They mess with security cameras. They leave random blocks in more random places and watch as physicists lose their minds trying to figure out why the sand is Staying Like That. They tear down an abandoned, collapsing warehouse one night, and build a nice park instead. There’s randomly a pile of solid gold blocks on some random guy’s roof one day. They’re replaced with a lecture on the dangers of capitalism the next. The council takes out a row of trees because they’re ‘obscuring traffic lights’. A week later the trees are back. And also in front of the mayor’s office. Blocking the door.

One day, a major news outlet finds a sign left on their front door, written in red pen.

And if you think this is confusing, you should wait until one of the redstoners respawn!
~Cleo <3

Chapter 12: Zedaph

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Okay, I think I should preface this by saying I personally like to hc Zedaph as a sheep hybrid- specifically, a sort of Satyr-style one, with ram's horns and the legs of a sheep (and also wool for hair, but that's not as relevant for this post).

Now this raises an interesting problem: what other mythological creatures appear in a puff of smoke, speak in strange, long-dead languages, and have horns and Ungulate hindquarters?

So anyway, Zedaph gets mistaken for a demon.

it probably doesn't help that he's first found by a group of hysterical Christians. Or that he spawned in a graveyard.

Joe and Cleo have to go rescue him. Fortunately, he didn't spawn too far from Hermiton, so they grab some supplies and catch a train. It's a much more volatile situation than Joe's, and the whole trip Cleo's voice chatting with Zed on her comm, coaching him in English to say something along the lines of "I'm not a demon, I'm just half sheep" (it's not very effective, but it buys them enough time).

They roll up, and while Joe's trying to get Zedaph to somewhere a bit safer (or at least away from the crowd), Cleo's showing affection for her friends in her own special way: by yelling at and threatening the people who dared to hurt them. Loudly. Angrily. While waving an enchanted netherite axe around. And much growling.

By the time they get back to Rainbow Forest, Zedaph already has plans for a dozen contraptions to confuse the people of Hermiton. Cleo's encouraging him.

Chapter 13: A Very Confused Knight

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That said this is hilarious actually, and I love it. Wels getting mistaken for the mythological King Arthur is just... *chef's kiss*. It's compounded by the fact Wels apparently knows their names but doesn't speak English, and the poor guy is just... so lost...

Cleo finds out via memes. She practically dies laughing before pulling it together long enough to figure out the logistics of reaching Wels despite the fact none of them have passports. Or legally exist.

That said, they're the last remnants of an entire race, who were there when it was at its height and there when it died out. They have a lot of information most archeologists would kill for.

So yes. They bribe a group of archeologists with world-changing information in exchange for getting Cleo to the UK to rescue poor Wels (and a promise to help out with future hermit respawns). Because the man is just... so confused... what are these people doing... what do they want... what are they saying... why do they have large metal vehicles, what's wrong with horses?

Chapter 14: Quickfire Questions

Chapter Text

Chapter 15: At the End, a Spark of Hope

Chapter Text

“Hey, Cleo,” Xisuma said weakly. The zombie hybrid hummed as she took her seat beside his bed.
“Hey, X,” she replied, just as quietly. Unlike him, her voice was as strong as ever; but in this quiet room, speaking at her usual volume felt wrong.

They sat in silence for a while, both trying to decide what to say.
“Remember the stats?” Cleo finally asked.
“What?” Purple eyes flitted to her unaging face, to the slight smile tugging at her lips.
“Season Seven. Remember the stats?”
“Oh gods, don’t do this to me now.”
“Too late,” they both chuckled at that.

“I’ll miss you,” Cleo blurted suddenly. “I know I’m not great at- at showing my feelings, at least in a traditional sense, but…”
“Cleo. It’s okay,” Xisuma said gently. “We understand.”
“I know. Sometimes you’re the only people who do.”

Cleo took his hand in hers. X squeezed, but it wasn’t with his old strength. Cleo recalled the first time they’d met, when Cleo had squeezed his hand as hard as she could as a joke. He’d almost broken hers in response.
That was never going to happen again.

“I don’t think I’ve got much longer,” Xisuma admitted. Cleo didn’t say anything. She was a zombie. She knew death.
“Will it hurt?” he murmured softly.
“No. It’s more like… floating away, drifting on the wind.” Cleo didn’t tell him about being painfully yanked back down, forced back into her dead body. He wouldn’t experience that. She hoped.

“I'm scared,” Xisuma whispered. “I always expected to experience the Final Death, but I never dreamed…”
“None of us did. Even the Immortals are starting to age.”
“You aren’t.” It wasn’t a question, but she answered anyway.
“No.”
“You’ll be one of the last Players left.”
“Yes.” Cleo didn’t like to think about it.
“Try not to forget us, will you?”
“Is that what you’re scared of? Being forgotten?”
“...Yeah.”
“You shouldn’t be. You’re the best damn Admin anyone could ask for.”
“But once Admins are obsolete…”
“You won’t be forgotten, Xisuma. Not while I still walk this plane of reality. I will not let the hermits be forgotten. I swear it on my soul.”
“...Thank you…” Xisuma’s voice was so soft, Cleo had to strain to hear it.
“I’ll be with you to the end.”

Still in Cleo’s grip, his hand was growing lighter.
As the zombie watched, Xisuma Void, her Admin, her servermate, her friend, slowly dissolved into smoke.
“Goodbye, X,” she whispered. “You’ve had a good dream. It’s finally time to wake up.”
And she knew it would be the last time the traditional farewell would ever be used.

“Miss Cleo?” Nurse Steven quietly entered the room, footsteps padding over the floor.
“He’s gone,” the hybrid responded quietly. “The Voidwalkers are officially extinct now.”
“Another race,” he replied, standing at the bed. “It’s awful to see. You don’t even leave your bodies behind.”
“Bodies decompose. Bones crumble to dust.”
“I suppose. But I guess… it’s better than just armour, if you ask me.”
“Just armour…” Cleo stared at the empty bed. “On Final Death, a Player will leave their clothing behind.”
“O...kay?”
“But Xisuma didn’t. None of the hermits did.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s not Final Death.” A single spark, one that Cleo would spend the next two thousand years coaxing into a full flame.
“It’s not Final Death. The Universe isn’t finished with us. They’ll Respawn one day.”

Chapter 16: A Deer in the Woods

Chapter Text

Alice loved the woods. It was the main reason why she and Lisa had chosen to move to Aston; the village was surrounded by nature. They liked to go for long walks in the forest, content in the quiet and in each other’s company.
They both paused when they heard a rustle, looking into the foliage. Normally they’d see a bird, or the occasional lizard; most animals tended to be nocturnal, and avoided the hiking trails. Whatever this was, it was significantly bigger than any bird Alice would expect to find out there.

“There,” Lisa said quietly, pointing into the forest. Alice saw a bush shake, and then caught a glimpse of a cloven hoof.
“Deer?” She guessed, squinting at it. The bush moved again.
“I think it’s stuck,” Lisa said.
“Should we help it?” Lisa nodded, and the two women quietly walked toward the deer.

Except it wasn’t a deer. It was a… human? Faun? Alice didn’t know.
“⍑╎. ⚍ᒲ. ℸ ̣ ⍑╎ᓭ ╎ᓭ ᔑ∴ꖌ∴ᔑ∷↸, ʖ⚍ℸ ̣... ᔑ ꖎ╎ℸ ̣ ℸ ̣ ꖎᒷ ⍑ᒷꖎ!¡ !¡ꖎᒷᔑᓭᒷ?”
“Uh, hi? Do you speak English?” Alice asked.
“↸𝙹 ||𝙹⚍ ᓭ!¡ᒷᔑꖌ ⊣ᔑꖎᔑᓵℸ ̣ ╎ᓵ? ╎ ᓵᔑリ'ℸ ̣ ⚍リ↸ᒷ∷ᓭℸ ̣ ᔑリ↸ ||𝙹⚍.”
“I’ll take that as a no.”
“Are you stuck?” Lisa asked.
“ᓭℸ ̣ ╎ꖎꖎ ᓵᔑリ'ℸ ̣ ⚍リ↸ᒷ∷ᓭℸ ̣ ᔑリ↸ ||𝙹⚍. ╎'ᒲ ᓭℸ ̣ ⚍ᓵꖌ, ᓵᔑリ ||𝙹⚍ ⍑ᒷꖎ!¡? ℸ ̣ ⍑╎ᓭ ʖ⚍ᓭ⍑ ꖎ𝙹𝙹ꖌᓭ ᓵ⚍ᓭℸ ̣ 𝙹ᒲ-ᒲᔑ↸ᒷ, ᔑリ↸ ╎ ↸𝙹リ'ℸ ̣ ∴ᔑリℸ ̣ ℸ ̣ 𝙹 ∷⚍╎リ ᓭ𝙹ᒲᒷ𝙹リᒷ'ᓭ ⍑ᔑ∷↸ ∴𝙹∷ꖌ.” She- Alice was fairly sure she was female- spoke in a strange, alien language, one utilizing unusual syllables and odd clicks for what seemed to be punctuation. The faun (Alice was going with faun) struggled again, and Alice could see the way a thick vine had tangled itself around one of her antlers. Which she had. For some goddamn reason.

“Here, let me help,” she offered, walking around to reach the faun’s head. She got to work carefully untangling the vine, tugging gently when it occasionally got caught on something. It wasn’t too long before the faun (an actual faun! Alice had always assumed those were myths, much like literally everyone else) was upright, standing on her own two hoofed feet.
“∴⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ ᔑᒲ ╎? ╎ ⋮⚍ᓭℸ ̣ ∷ᒷᓭ!¡ᔑ∴リᒷ↸ ⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ, ᔑリ↸ ↸𝙹リ'ℸ ̣ ᔑᓵℸ ̣ ⚍ᔑꖎꖎ|| ꖌリ𝙹∴. ↸𝙹 ||𝙹⚍ ꖌリ𝙹∴ ∴⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ ⍑ᒷ∷ᒲ╎ℸ ̣ ᓵ∷ᔑ⎓ℸ ̣ ╎ᓭ?” It sounded like a question, but once again, Alice had no idea what she was saying.
“Sorry, we can’t understand you.”

“Alice.” The woman in question looked at her wife, who was staring straight at the faun.
“We found a mythological creature.”
“Yep,” Alice agreed.
“What do we do.”
“What makes you think I know?” She replied, raising her hands. “There isn’t exactly a handbook for this!”
“Do we keep her? Do we tell someone? Do we let her go do her thing in the forest?”
“I don’t know. Why are we asking me? I know about as much about fauns as you do!”

While they were debating what to do with the faun, she pulled out an odd device. It didn’t look anything like any technology Alice recognized, except maybe something halfway between a tiny laptop and a Nintendo DS, if the top screen was made solely of transparent glass. As Alice watched, the faun tapped on the bottom half (what looked to be a small keyboard, though not in a language Alice knew). The faun’s shoulders slumped slightly as a small string of strange-looking characters popped up on the ‘screen’.
“Wait, is that… Ancient language?” Lisa asked, shocked.
The two women looked at each other.
“Are we keeping the-”
“We’re keeping the faun.”

By human standards, the faun looked young, probably in her early to mid-twenties, but Lisa wasn’t really sure if that tracked for fantastical creatures.
“Hey, what’s your name?” Alice asked as they walked back along the path. Lisa had one hand around the faun’s wrist, but she didn’t seem particularly against following them.
“ᓭ𝙹∷∷||, ╎ ᓭℸ ̣ ╎ꖎꖎ ᓵᔑリ'ℸ ̣ ⚍リ↸ᒷ∷ᓭℸ ̣ ᔑリ↸ ||𝙹⚍.”

“Uh, right,” Alice said. “I’m Alice,” she pointed to herself. “That’s Lisa.” The faun glanced between the two of them.
“Alice,” she repeated. “Lisa,” Lisa repeated this a few more times, until the faun started to catch on.
“Alice. Lisa,” the faun echoed. Her voice was sweet and gentle, with an unusual accent Lisa had never heard before. “⊣ᒷᒲ╎リ╎ℸ ̣ ᔑ||. ⊣ᒷᒲ.”
“What?” Lisa angled her head, trying to figure out what the faun was trying to say.
“⊣ᒷᒲ,” the faun repeated, this time pointing at herself. Alice caught on first.
“Your name is Gem?” The faun nodded, looking pleased with herself.
“Gem, huh?” Lisa repeated, testing out how the name sounded on her tongue. “Nice to meet you, Gem.”
Gem hummed contentedly.

Chapter 17: Poetry in Motion

Chapter Text

Sunken deep below ocean waves,
Buried in layers of silt
Hiding inside a great concrete cave
cloaked in darkness, head at a tilt.

One visitor- the only one to know they're there
sealed their home from the tide long ago
One visitor- the only one left to care
that they're free from the rust as they lie deep below

This place was once a stunning reality,
But the world it showed has faded away.
Their visitor guided his brother to safety,
Staying calm, acting as if it were to play.

They lie in the darkness, left in the rot,
forgotten above save for one,
but a redstoning expert she is not,
and she does not know what must be done.

Will either their fathers ever return?
Will their dad start work on repair?
Will they stay like all relics, waiting their turn?
Will they ever see open air?

Chapter 18: What's Up, Doc?

Chapter Text

The cameras are the first recorded sighting of this creature, but they’re far from the last. Light reflecting off metal and onto a wall, a glimpse of a torn labcoat turning a corner, red lights glowing at the end of a dark alley, before they disappear. Doc recognises that he doesn’t know these people, this world; he keeps to himself, until he understands it better. Like the Green Lady before him, he becomes a sort of urban cryptid, one people fear even if they don’t understand why.

One thing Doc’s noticed is that the physics engine is different. The way water flows, the way skyscrapers are built, the way redstone is organized- it’s not anything like how he’s used to. He experiments with water, but whenever he works with it, pours a bucket over the ground or turns a tap, it’s the same as it’s always been. He plays around with pistons and old glitches, trying to figure out if he can change it from one type to another. The Humans find leftover bits of his experiments, sometimes, and they seem curious, but they clearly don’t understand what he’s trying to do. Hels, Doc isn’t quite sure what he’s trying to do. He wishes he had someone to bounce ideas off.

Someone finds a green scale at one of the experiments, shed naturally by the creeper hybrid. It makes its way to a lab, and has its DNA analysed. The closest creature they can find has long since been extinct, one they’ve only ever found skulls of. That catches peoples attention. An extinct being, running around Alorith City? Clearly, the only thing to do in this situation would be to capture and study it.

One tiny problem: It’s not easy to catch Doc. Especially when you think he’s just an intelligent animal, with brains on par with, say, an octopus. People lay traps, but Doc isn’t dumb enough to fall for them. He honestly doesn’t realize they’re for him, because they’re so goddamn obvious.

Plan B: tranquilisers. Now it gets interesting. Doc may not know what a gun is, but he knows a weapon when he sees one. He doesn’t know what chemicals the darts hold, but his best guess is it’s some sort of modified weakness potion. He doesn’t know what they want from him, but he’s pretty sure he won’t like it.

By Player standards, Doc is strong. By Human standards, his strength is frankly ridiculous. When he’s cornered in an alleyway, Doc’s first move is to hiss, because even if the Humans don’t know why, the sound terrifies them. Doc learned to fight people far more durable, for whom death was a temporary inconvenience. These are the kind who have no magic, no inventories, and no ability to Respawn. Doc may be a mad scientist, but he’s not a cold-hearted killer.

That said, he’s not above yeeting large, heavy metal objects over their heads. Like a dumpster. For example.

The Humans realize that maybe they’re in over their heads (much like the dumpster), and decide to do the intelligent thing and leave the terrifying monster-cyborg alone. For now, anyway. Until they figure out a plan of attack, because it turns out the cryptid is rather dangerous.

Doc holes up in an abandoned warehouse, knowing that he probably has to get the Hels out of town. His plan is to wait for nightfall and sneak off, but he falls asleep instead. He can only run for so long before crashing, after all. When he’s woken, he’s face-to-face with a Human. He hisses, and she backs off, but gathers her courage, and says, with very, very broken Galactic,

“No hurt here help Gem friend name Lisa you Doc?”

Chapter 19: Aurora Austrailis

Chapter Text

“Wha...”

“What is it?” Jared leaned over Alex’s shoulder.

They were reviewing the footage from one of their cameras, one that had been set up to watch a nearby colony of Adélie penguins. But of all the things it had captured, something stood out.

“Is that a person wandering around out there?”

“Looks like it,” Alex agreed.

“In shorts?” The figure also seemed to be wearing a jacket or cardigan of some description, but it was nowhere near thick enough for the icy Antarctic weather.

“Maybe it’s paradoxical undressing?” Alex offered.

“But she isn’t displaying any signs of hypothermia…” Jared rubbed his eyes.

“When was this footage taken?”

“Around midnight. I think she was watching the aurora?”

“I’ll tell the team to keep an eye out for her, but unless you happen to know where she is…”

“No idea.”

“...There’s not much we can do. I hope she’s okay.”

“Me too,” Alex agreed.

Stupid- Alex had seen the signs of the oncoming blizzard. They were fully aware one was coming. They should have done the intelligent, rational thing and retreated back to the research centre the minute the wind started picking up.

But no. Of course not. They just had to go grab that last camera.

Alex muttered curses to themself as they dug in. They’d been trained in what to do when caught out in a blizzard, of course- everyone had. Of course, the first rule was don’t get caught in a goddamn blizzard, but nonetheless…

Dig down. Build a crude shelter. Wait out the storm. Pray to your chosen god that you don’t freeze to death. Those were the general guidelines.

How long had they been there? They stayed awake, hidden in the snow, listening to the sound of the wind blowing all around them. They thought they saw something, a dark shape, but it was probably their imagination.

“⍑ᒷ|| ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ!” Alex jumped violently when a person just… appeared in front of them. It was the woman they’d seen on the camera a few days ago, the one running around in shorts and a cardigan in the middle of an Antarctic blizzard what the actual hell.

“||𝙹⚍ 𝙹ꖌᔑ||, ꖎ⚍⍊? ╎ℸ ̣ 'ᓭ ᔑ ʖ╎ℸ ̣ ᓵ⍑╎ꖎꖎ||, ⍑⚍⍑?” Alex could only gape at her. Dimly they registered that she wasn’t speaking any language they knew, but they were more focused on the fact that this lady should have died from hypothermia by now.

“||𝙹⚍ ᓭᒷᒷᒲ ℸ ̣ 𝙹 ʖᒷ ╎リ ᔑ ʖ╎ℸ ̣ 𝙹⎓ ᔑ !¡╎ᓵꖌꖎᒷ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ. リᒷᒷ↸ ⍑ᒷꖎ!¡?” The woman held out a hand to Alex, and they hesitantly took it. Dear god, what had they gotten themselves into?

Alex watched in shock as the wind and snow bent to travel around them, leaving them in a pocket of calm (albeit still cold) air. The strange woman smiled gently at them, seemingly unphased.

“ᓵ𝙹ᒲᒷ 𝙹リ, ꖎᒷℸ ̣ 'ᓭ ⊣ᒷℸ ̣ ||𝙹⚍ ∴ᔑ∷ᒲᒷ↸ ⚍!¡, ᔑꖎ∷╎⊣⍑ℸ ̣ ?”

An alien. That was the only explanation Alex could come up with, because there was no way in hell this lady was human.

They let the alien lady guide them away from their impromptu shelter, noticing that neither of them seemed to be having any trouble with the snow beneath their feet. It was almost as if it was solid ground. Did the woman’s weird shield-thing compress the snow to make it easier to walk? How would that even work?

There was something up ahead, looming through the blizzard. The alien lady was walking toward it, chattering something in her strange language.

There was a wooden door, and the woman opened it. Alex followed her through rather apprehensively, and watched as she closed it again. They were in what looked to be a small hut, but it looked strange. It took Alex a moment to put their finger on it.

The build style matched those created by the Lost Race.

Chapter 20: Chaos Crew

Chapter Text

Tires squealed as the Human inside slammed on the brakes.

“Whoops!” Zedaph yelled as he scrambled out of the way, “sorry!” He heard laughing, and glanced up to see a certain zombie perched on a streetlight. Joe caught up with them, having taken the zebra crossing like a normal person. Pearl must have gone on ahead… yep, there she was, diving down to meet them.

“So what’s the plan?” She asked as her wings folded behind her. “Do we have a plan?”

“Not really,” Zed offered. “We’re mostly just doing stuff to mess with them.”

“Apparently there’s plans to take out a nice park to make room for a mall,” Cleo offered.

“Do they need another mall?” Pearl asked.

“They’ve already got plenty, so no. Wanna go give the park an upgrade?”

A mischievous gleam appeared in Pearl’s eye.

Pearl jumped violently when she heard sirens.

“Damn, they’re getting fast,” Cleo noted from where she was sitting in the tree next to her.

“What are they doing?”

“We piss off the authorities, so they keep trying to arrest us,” Cleo shrugged. “Not that they actually can.”

One of the Humans yelled something, but Pearl didn’t hear him.

“Welp, time to go,” Cleo announced. Pearl-side-eyed her.

“Are you going to taunt them?”

“Oh, probably.”

Cleo has several guns pointed in her direction the second she lands on the ground.

“Well,” she says in English. “This is friendly.”

“Look, lady,” one of them says. “I don’t know who you think you are or what you think you’re doing, but you’ve been a public nuisance for months now.”

“Good news! You do not need to know who I am or what I think I’m doing. Lucky you.”

“You’ve made a mockery of the entire police force.”

“Eh, you were doing that just fine on your own.”

That earns her more than a few glares. She gives them a grin, the kind that shows her sharp teeth.

“Besides, are you actually serving the public, or are you just serving a bunch of rich assholes?”

“Put your hands in the air! Where are your little friends?”

“No.” Cleo crosses her arms and raises her chin, green eyes boring into the cops. “You can not exactly stop me.”

“Oh, we can’t, can we? Are you sure about that?” Cleo raises an eyebrow.

“No, you can not. Humanity has forgotten us Players, and, more importantly, how to deal with us. Your prisons can not hold us, your weapons can not kill us. There is nothing you could do to us. So we will continue, doing our thing, as we did before your kind was born.”

Cleo turns away, leaving the police to process.

Chapter 21: Aurora Austrailis Part Two

Chapter Text

Stress hummed as she checked the furnaces, aware of Alex's eyes burning into the back of her head. They weren’t a very talkative individual, or maybe they were still recovering from the cold. Poor thing- a blizzard was not something a Human should ever seek to get caught in. They were lucky Stress had found them. She hadn’t even realized there was anyone else out here.

“Are you alone?” she asked, curious. “Or are your servermates nearby?”

“⟇⊓⟃ ⅃⟔□ ⋖⟃<? ⟇⊓⅃> ⅃⟔□ ⋖⟃< v⅃⋖｢⊡ꓶ?”

Stress paused. Blinked for a second.

“Sorry luv, I’m not quite sure what you’re saying. Do you speak Galactic?”

“⊓⟃⟇'⊐ ⋖⟃< ⊐⟃ >⊓⅃> >⊓｢⊡ꓶ ⟇｢>⊓ >⊓□ v⊡⟃⟇?”

Okay. This was an issue. How was Stress supposed to make sure Alex was okay when she couldn’t even understand them?

“Right,” she muttered. “I don’t have any pen and paper… Oh! I know!” Stress covered one of the blocks on the ground in a very thin layer of snow.

Alex jumped back, their face a mask of shock.

“⟇⊓⅃>- ⊓⟃⟇- ⊓⟃⟇?!”

“Oh, have you not seen environmental magic before? It’s pretty rare.” Stress held out her hand and summoned a few snowflakes to float above it.

Alex stared, and Stress floated them over toward them. They held out their hand and stress landed the flakes in it, where they quickly melted thanks to the Human’s body heat.

“Right,” Stress said, “Where’s your base?” She drew a crude house in the snow, hoping they’d understand what she was trying to say.

“⋖⟃<... ⟇⅃⊡> >⟃ ⊍⊡⟃⟇ ⟇⊓□⟔□ >⊓□ ⊔⅃v□ ｢v?”

“Where’s your base?” Stress asked slowly, pointing to the drawing. The blizzard was dying down, but it would still be a while before it ended.

"｢ v>｢⦝⦝ ⌞⅃⊡'> <⊡⊐□⟔v>⅃⊡⊐ ⋖⟃<."

Right, they probably didn’t know where Stress’ hut was in regards to anything else.

“Once the storm’s over, I’ll take you back to the place I found you. Is that okay?”

"⟇⊓⋖ ⅃⟔□ ⋖⟃< ⟇⅃⊡⊐□⟔｢⊡ꓶ ⅃⟔⟃<⊡⊐ ｢⊡ v⊓⟃⟔>v?"

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Alex,” the alien lady said a while later. Alex looked up in shock.

“How do you know my name?!”

“𝙹⍑, ∷╎⊣⍑ℸ ̣ , リ𝙹リ!¡ꖎᔑ||ᒷ∷ᓭ ↸𝙹リ'ℸ ̣ ꖌリ𝙹∴ 𝙹ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ∷'ᓭ リᔑᒲᒷᓭ, ↸𝙹 ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ||? ╎'ᒲ ᓭℸ ̣ ∷ᒷᓭᓭ.”

“What-”

Alien lady pointed at her chest.

“ᓭℸ ̣ ∷ᒷᓭᓭ.”

“Uh… your name is Stress?”

“||ᒷᔑ⍑!” Stress cheered.

“Okay, but that doesn’t explain how you know my name.”

“ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ ʖꖎ╎⨅⨅ᔑ∷↸ ᓭ⍑𝙹⚍ꖎ↸ ʖᒷ 𝙹⍊ᒷ∷ ᓭ𝙹𝙹リ. ||𝙹⚍ 𝙹ꖌᔑ|| ℸ ̣ 𝙹 ∴ᔑ╎ℸ?”

“What?”

"∴⍑ᔑℸ?"

Stress stood up and stretched. The blizzard was finally over, and as lovely Alex’s company was, it wouldn’t be right to keep them there. Besides, what if they had servermates?

Maybe she’d be allowed to visit.

“Alex, I’ll be taking you back to where I found you. Will you be able to find your way back to your base from there?”

"｢ v⊓⟃<⦝⊐ ⸅⟔⟃⊔⅃⊔⦝⋖ ꓶ□> ⊔⅃⌞⊍ >⟃ >⊓□ ⊔⅃v□. >⊓□⋖ ⟄｢ꓶ⊓> >⊓｢⊡⊍ ｢ ⊏⟔⟃⟑□ ⟃<> >⊓□⟔□."

“Okay. Come on,” she opened the door, already searching for the trail of magic she’d left keeping the Human safe. It hadn’t been a particularly difficult or energy-intensive spell, but it had left a slight trace in the air and on the ground.

“C’mon!” Alex padded out behind her, gaze drifting to where Stress stood on the snow.

"⟃⊍⅃⋖, v□⟔｢⟃<v⦝⋖, ⊓⟃⟇ ⅃⟔□ ⋖⟃< ⊐⟃｢⊡ꓶ >⊓⅃>."

“Sorry luv, but I won’t be able to both trace the magic and keep you on the snow’s surface. Is that okay?”

Alex just stared at her blankly.

Stress led them over the landscape, moving with surprising confidence. Alex had no idea how she knew where she was going, but they didn’t have any better ideas. She kept up a string of chatter in her strange language, her tone light and cheerful. Alex still had no idea what she was saying, but that didn’t seem to put her off.

Alex was getting the idea that Stress was just Like That.

Eventually the woman stopped, looking down at the snow-covered ground. It was hard to make out, but Alex could see the hollow where they’d sheltered.

“ᔑ∷ᒷ ||𝙹⚍ 𝙹ꖌᔑ|| ℸ ̣ 𝙹 ᒲᔑꖌᒷ ||𝙹⚍∷ ∴ᔑ|| ⍑𝙹ᒲᒷ ⎓∷𝙹ᒲ ⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ?” Stress said, her tone gentle. Alex gave her a blank look, and Stress drew another house in the snow.

“Are you asking if I can find my way back?” They looked around. They could just see the outline of one of the buildings in the distance.

“Oh, there it is.” They pointed, knowing Stress couldn’t understand them.

Stress made a noise, and then Alex felt the snow supporting their weight.

They trailed after the strange woman.

“Alex!” Jared hurried out of the station, relieved to see the ornithologist safe and sound. “Uh… who’s this?”

“This is Stress,” Alex told him. “She’s the woman we saw on the cameras. She uh, found me in the middle of the blizzard.”

“In the middle of-”

“I don’t think the snow bothers her,” Alex hesitated. “Or the wind, for that matter.”

“⍑╎! リ╎ᓵᒷ ℸ ̣ 𝙹 ᒲᒷᒷℸ ̣ ||𝙹⚍, Jared.” The man in question started.

“What on Earth?”

“Yeah, I don’t understand what’s going on either.”

“Are you sure she’s human?”

“I have my doubts.”

“Right,” Jared said. “Well, Stress, we’re a bit short on staff for the moment, so I don’t see why you can’t stay...”

“ᓭ𝙹∷∷||, ʖ⚍ℸ ̣ ╎ ↸𝙹リ'ℸ ̣ ᓭ!¡ᒷᔑꖌ ||𝙹⚍∷ ꖎᔑリ⊣⚍ᔑ⊣ᒷ.”

“What?”

“She doesn’t speak English,” Alex supplied.

Jared just stared at them with an are-you-serious look on his face.

Chapter 22: Monster?

Chapter Text

Stupid- it was stupid, what you said. What you all said. Things have been hard lately, stressful- but that’s no excuse. That’s never an excuse.

Now your son is missing, and it’s all your fault.

You call his name, again and again, saying that you’re sorry, you didn’t mean it. Of course you didn’t mean it- you’re his mother. You love your son. You care for him, even if he drives you nuts sometimes.

But he’s run off, into the forest. And god knows what’s roaming around in there.

You keep calling.

“Hello?” You turn, startled. A woman is standing there, holding your son by the wrist. You call his name, and the strange woman lets go. Her eyes are the brightest shade of green you’ve ever seen, and her long red hair cascades down her back in waves. But her eyes are sunken, her cheeks are hollow, and her pale skin is green and rotting. She’s wearing a shirt, and pants- men’s clothes, although on these the sleeves have been cut off, above the knees, above the elbows.

You’ve heard stories about monsters, creatures that have lurked for centuries in the forgotten corners of the world. You didn’t realize one was hiding so close.

On one hand, you should tell someone. This being is dangerous, monstrous, a demon walking the Earth.

“Who are you?” Your husband asks, and although he’s big, and strong from working the farm, you can hear the tremble in his voice.

“Cleo,” the woman said simply. “Son lucky I find before dingo.” Her voice sounds strange, like English is an unfamiliar language to her.

“No harm you no harm me,” she adds, perhaps in response to the glances you and your husband share.

“You… won’t hurt us if we don’t hurt you?” you ask, trying to keep control of your voice.

“Yes.”

“Does that go for everyone?”

“Yes.”

“Cleo,” your husband says hesitantly. “Why- why are you here? Do you live in the forest?”

“No live anymore,” she replies. “Stay in forest. Wait.”

“Wait for what?”

“Family.” She turns away.

“You’re waiting for your family? Are they monsters too?”

“Not blood-family. Home-family.” Cleo pauses, glancing back. “Will return. One day.”

“How do you know that?” you ask, because she sounds so convinced.

“Because the Universe said I love you,” she replies. She takes off, darting through the trees, a shadow among the foliage.

And then she’s gone.

Chapter 23: Quickfire Questions Part Two

Chapter Text

leoismybookcrushasked:

Chapter 24

Chapter Text

Chapter 25: Summoning

Chapter Text

Well, isn’t this deja vu.

This is only the second time in Impulse’s life he’s been summoned, but at least this time it’s easier on his stomach. He remembers almost throwing up on Xisuma’s boots the first time round- not a great introduction to your new Admin, admittedly.

He’s still not quite sure how Tango had managed to do it in the first place, honestly.

Tango… the room is too quiet for the ghast hybrid to be here this time. Tango was many things, but subtlety had not been his strong suit.

There was another reason why Tango couldn’t be here. Tango was… gone.

Impulse remembered his eyes were closed.

“Uh, who are you?” Of the three people in front of him- who all looked to be Human teenagers- he recognised exactly none of them. One of them squeaked, but the other two were silent. Frozen.

Impulse looked down at the summoning circle, then at the candles quietly burning away, then back at the expressions on the teenager’s faces.

Ah. They probably hadn’t expected to get anything.

Impulse slowly stepped out of the circle, quietly padding towards the kids.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he said gently. “I just want to see your book.”

The book was old and worn, with yellowed paper and torn pages.

But Impulse recognized the handwriting. Of course he did.

Chapter 26: Cat

Chapter Text

Impulse jumped when something brushed against his legs, soft and furry.

“Mrow?”

“Jellie?” he asked in disbelief, staring down at the cat. “Where did you come from?”

Jellie just purred, sniffing his shoes.

“Is Scar here?” At her owner’s name, she looked up, her light green eyes staring into him.

He guessed that was a no, but you could never tell with cats.

“Are any of the other hermits nearby?”

Jellie jumped up onto his shoulder and nuzzled his ear. Her whiskers tickled.

Impulse sighed. Well, at least he wasn’t alone any more.

Chapter 27: Fire and Ice

Chapter Text

“Alex?” The Human in question looked up from the penguin they were tagging, careful not to scare it.

“Boat?” Stress pointed out towards the ocean, where an icebreaker ship was indeed floating on the horizon.

“Yep, good eye, Stress.”

“Big boat!” Stress seemed quite pleased with her understanding of the English language. To be fair, she was basically learning from scratch.

“Big boat,” Alex agreed. “Supply ship.”

Stress hummed and patted the penguin still in Alex’s lap.

Stress seemed to fiddle with it, and a range of text popped up on the screen.

The strange woman suddenly turned and ran.

“Stress! What’s going on?”

“ᔑ ∷ᒷᓭ!¡ᔑ∴リ!”

Well that explains nothing, Alex thought as they chased after her, but was forced to stop when they reached the ice. Stress ran over it without fear, but Alex knew that parts of it could be thin enough to fall through into the freezing water below.

“Stress! Come back, it’s not safe!”

She ignored them. Alex had never seen her get like that before.

They followed her more slowly, cautious on the ice.

Alex yelped when Stress suddenly smashed the ice and dived into the water. They hurried to the hole- a perfect 1m square- and peered through. They could make out the outline of their friend swimming around underwater, but they weren’t game to jump in after her.

She’ll be okay. She’ll be okay. She’s immune to blizzards, for god’s sake WHY ARE YOU PANICKING ALEX.

They yelped as an unconscious man’s head suddenly popped out of the hole in the ice, and saw Stress beneath him, pushing him up.

Oh. Oh.

Alex scrambled to pull the guy onto the solid ice, hoping his weight wouldn’t be enough to break it- although judging by the hole, it seemed pretty thick in this area. Much like Stress, he seemed woefully underdressed for the cold, and his blonde hair was plastered messily to his head. Steam was quietly curling off it.

Stress bundled him up, lifting him with very little effort. “Station,” she insisted quietly.

“Yeah, we should probably get him warmed up,” Alex agreed. Stress set off over the ice, carrying the strange character bridal-style.

Unexpectedly, Stress veered off the familiar track to the research station.

“Uh, Stress? The station's that way.”

“My station.”

“What?”

“My station,” Stress repeated.

Alex had no choice but to follow her.

When Stress came to a small hut, it took Alex a moment to recognize it.

“Oh! This is the place you took me to in the blizzard!”

“Door?”

Alex reached over and opened the door, glad it opened inwards, away from the snow piled in front of it. It seemed to ‘lock’ open, but Stress was already weirder in a dozen different ways.

They closed the door once everyone was inside.

Stress carefully placed the blonde man down on the ground and started rummaging through chests Alex was fairly sure hadn’t been there last time. Had she come back here?

Alex squeaked when Stress pulled out some sort of heat source- they could feel it from across the small room. She turned to punch a hole in the ground, a two metre square.

Then she dumped actual lava into it.

Alex said a great deal of words that got Stress looking at them reproachfully, and even more when Stress dropped the guy into the lava what the actual f*ck.

Alex stared at the cloud of steam evaporating off his body, despite the fact the man himself seemed fine. Better, even, as the blue retreated from his fingers and colour returned to his skin. His hair was still a rat’s nest, but Alex suspected it always looked like that.

The man groaned, and blinked open his eyes.

They were glowing red.

Chapter 28: Fun With Allergies

Chapter Text

Jellie jumped down from where she’d been balancing on Black-Yellow’s shoulder, sniffing closer at the bush. She scented two different weakdull-twolegs, and Deer-Flowers.

Black-Yellow said her name, with the two clicks that meant question. There was no question; Jellie was her name, and Jellie knew it. Black-Yellow should know it too, considering how long he’d known her. Black-Yellow was not very bright, it seemed. Perhaps some of his brain cells hadn’t Respawned with him.

There was a path, made of pale brown gravel, and Deer-Flower’s scent trail continued down it, with the two weakdull-twolegs. Jellie followed it a bit, then changed her mind and jumped back onto Black-Yellow’s shoulder. She nudged his head, and after a moment, he followed the path.

It was a shame Scar wasn’t here; he always understood her immediately. Alas, Black-Yellow would have to do.

It was a quiet day.

A 1000-piece jigsaw puzzle lay on a table, and occasionally someone would try and find the location of a few pieces. Doc was on the lounge, sketching out what looked to be blueprints for some impossible machine. Gem was adjusting her pictures of the ⍑ᒷ∷ᒲ╎ℸ ̣ ᓭ. Alice and Lisa were both reading.

Doc suddenly sneezed.

It was loud enough to catch everyone’s attention, but everyone settled down pretty quickly.

Then the cyborg sneezed again. And a third time.

Alice looked up from The Travelling Cat Chronicles as he stood up, sniffed the air, sneezed violently, and headed towards the back door.

She followed him, curious.

Outside the back door, Doc and Alice found… a cat. A cat who immediately waltzed in, tail brushing against Alice’s jeans, like it owned the place.

Doc sneezed again.

“Doc,” Alice asked, “are you allergic to cats?”

Her only answer was another sneeze.

“Jellie?” Gem shot to her feet when the cat padded into the living room. She just jumped up onto Gem’s lap and rubbed her head against the deer hybrid’s cheek.

Distantly, she heard Doc sneeze again.

Doc stepped outside to get some fresh air and away from the damn cat. He grimaced. He really shouldn’t have mentioned his lack of fear to Dinnerbone; allergies were about as much fun as having his scales pulled out.

And Alice seemed amused, which was even worse.

Though now he was outside…

He saw movement beyond the back fence.

The Human yelped as Doc vaulted over the fence and scrambled back. Doc hissed at him, but he didn’t run. No, instead-

“Doc?”

“Impulse?” The Player looked awful, his shirt torn, his legs covered in dirt.

“Ah, sorry man, I thought you were…”

“It’s fine, Doc. It’s good to see you.”

“Right back atcha. How’d you find us?” he asked as he pulled his fellow hermit to his feet.

“I didn’t, I was following Jellie.”

“Jellie? Wait.” Doc paused halfway through opening the back gate. “That cat was Jellie?”

“Uh, yeah.”

Great. Doc was looking at a lot of sneezing in his near future, wasn’t he?

Chapter 29: Let Me Tell You a Story

Chapter Text

Darren walked into his office and froze.

A woman- the Green Lady- was sitting in a chair that definitely hadn’t been there before, both legs draped over one of the armrests, calmly sharpening a knife.

He went to back out and close the door, but before he could she looked up, her emerald eyes boring into his soul.

“I am not here to harm you,” she said stiffly. “I want to tell you a story.” The knife vanished from her hands, as if it was never there. She sat up.

“A… a story?”

“Yes.” Darren felt somewhat like he was selling his soul.

“Once upon a time, there was a race of people called the !¡ꖎᔑ||ᒷ∷ᓭ- in English, the closest translation would be something along the lines of Players. However, for an unknown reason, approximately two thousand years ago we had what was later dubbed the ⎓╎リᔑꖎ ⚍!¡↸ᔑℸ ̣ ᒷ- the Final Update.”

“Update?” Darren repeated incredulously.

“Look, video game terminology just happens to be the closest fit. It is not perfect, but it is better than nothing, okay?!”

“Okay, okay!” Darren backed away, wondering if he could outrun her.

Probably not.

“To cut a long story short, the Final Update removed magic from the world. Sort of. Players were still Players, but their children were not. As time went on, Players died out, and the only race who had biology which ran without magic was Humans. As a result, nonPlayer Humans wound up becoming the only intelligent species left in the world. Well, except for those of us who were Undying, but we were never a particularly large group to begin with and all the rest have been killed off by now.”

“Un...dying?”

“Ghosts, zombie and skeleton ⍑||ʖ∷╎↸ᓭ, things like that.”

“Right,” Darren muttered. His legs felt weak. “Silly me.”

“Anyway, let’s go forward 2000 years, to the here and now. I was part of a group of Players, and we called ourselves ⍑ᒷ∷ᒲ╎ℸ ̣ ᓭ- in your language, hermits. Now, the other hermits experienced their ⎓╎リᔑꖎ ↸ᒷᔑℸ ̣ ⍑ᓭ- Final Deaths-”

“Final…”

“Yeah, we died more than once, do not try to think about it too hard. With the hermits, though… Something odd happened on Final Death. Basically, it… was not. I am not quite sure what happened, but I suspect the Universe chose to keep their code in storage or something, and they have once again started to Respawn.”

“Two of the hermits, ∴ᒷꖎᓭꖌリ╎⊣⍑ℸ ̣ and ʖ↸𝙹⚍ʖꖎᒷ𝙹100, have been in the news lately, although your kind seems to be under the impression that Wels is actually the mythological figure of King Arthur, for some reason.”

“Right. So… the guy isn’t King Arthur, he’s just… a guy who died 2000 years ago and has come back from the dead.”

“Yes.”

“You do realize how batsh*t this all sounds, right?”

“This is my normal.”

Darren paused and looked at Cleo. Really looked at her. Her fingers were tipped with dark claws, her teeth were razor-sharp, her skin pale green and crisscrossed by stitches. She smelled strongly of flowers- very strongly, almost as if she was trying to mask some other smell. Her cheeks were hollow, her eyes sunken into their sockets and glowing eerily.

She was not human. Not even close.

“So, your… friends are other hermits?”

“Yes. Joe, Zed, and Pearl are the only ones I’ve been able to get back here so far.”

“Are those their names?”

“Yes, although Pearl is translated.”

“R-right.” Darren hesitated. “Is there a… reason you’re telling me this?”

“You are an archeologist, yes? And we are the people you have been studying. I expect your… guild?”

“Organization?”

“Sure, that. I do wish you’d stop changing words around, it is very irritating. Your guild, organisation, whichever, would probably like to hear from the last remnant of our race, from people who were there at the height and the decline.”

“I’m guessing this isn’t a free offer.”

“We want help getting the other hermits back, when they return, if they Respawn on a different continent. Starting with Wels and Bdubs.”

“You can’t just… get on a plane?”

“We do not legally exist. Therefore, no passports. And smuggling those two would... not end well.”

“Oh.”

“I will give you some time to consider. If you decide to agree, walk into the forest and scream until one of us shows up.” Cleo stood up, smashed the chair to pieces, picked up a tiny chair, vanished it into the aether, and jumped out the window.

Darren barely managed to make it to his chair before his legs collapsed.

What had he gotten himself into?

Chapter 30: Fire and Ice Part 2

Chapter Text

Tango blinked open his eyes.
He was submerged in lava, the glowing liquid comfortingly warm. There was a Human sitting on a furnace nearby, openly staring at him.
“Tango?”
“Stress?” He turned his head to see his fellow hermit sitting beside the tiny lava pool.

“How’re you feeling?”
“Pretty good, honestly. Did you pull me out?”
“Yeah! Well, Alex helped. Good thinking, hitting the distress button.”
“Yeah,” Tango didn’t mention that he’d been panicking.

Stress offered him her hand, and he took it, letting her pull him to his feet.
Outside of the lava, it was freezing.
“What biome are we in?”
“We seem to be in some kinda tundra? I’m not quite sure. There’s a lot of snow everywhere.”
“Joy.”
“Oh come on, it’s not that bad.”
“Says the Snow Queen,” Tango replied dryly. “Some of us feel the cold.”
“So does Alex, and they don’t complain,” she teased.
“Alex looks like their brain just broke,” Tango pointed out.
“Their brain hasn’t...” Stress saw the expression on the Human’s face “...Okay, you may have a point.”

Tango snorted in amusem*nt, and Alex squeaked.
"⟇⊓⅃>?"
"⊐｢⊐ v⟄⟃⊍□ ⟓<v> ⌞⟃⟄□ ⟃<> ⟃⊏ ⊓｢v ⊡⟃v>⟔｢⦝v?!"
Tango didn’t understand what they were saying, but the look on Alex’s face was priceless.

Chapter 31: Broken Wing

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"⊓□ ⟓<v> ⌞⅃⟄□ ⟃<>>⅃ ⊡⟃⟇⊓□⟔□!"

"⌞⅃⦝⦝ ⅃⊡ ⅃⟄⊔<⦝⅃⊡⌞□, ｢⊐｢⟃>!"

"｢ ⅃⟄!"

"⟃⊓ ⟄⋖ ꓶ⟃⊐ ⟃⊓ ⟄⋖ ꓶ⟃⊐ ⟃⊓ ⟄⋖ ꓶ⟃⊐-"

"v□⟔｢⟃<v⦝⋖, ⟇⊓□⟔□ ⊐｢⊐ ⊓□ ⌞⟃⟄□ ⊏⟔⟃⟄?!"

"｢ ⊐⟃⊡'> ⊍⊡⟃⟇! ⟇⊓⅃> ⟇□｢⟔⊐⟃ ⟇⅃⦝⊍v ⊐⟃⟇⊡ ⅃ ⌞⟃<⊡>⟔⋖ ⟔⟃⅃⊐ ｢⊡ >⊓□ ⟄｢⊐⊐⦝□ ⟃⊏ >⊓□ ⊡｢ꓶ⊓>?!"

"⅃⟄⊔<⦝⅃⊡⌞□ ｢v ⟃⊡ ｢>v ⟇⅃⋖."

"⟃⊓ >⊓⅃⊡⊍ ꓶ⟃⊐, ⅃> ⦝□⅃v> v⟃⟄□⟃⊡□ ⊓⅃v >⊓□｢⟔ ⅃⌞> >⟃ꓶ□>⊓□⟔."

"v⊓｢>, >⊓⅃>'v ⅃ ⦝⟃> ⟃⊏ ⊔⦝⟃⟃⊐."

"⋖⟃< ⊐⟃⊡'> v⅃⋖."

"⊓□'v ⊐□⊏｢⊡｢>□⦝⋖ ⊔⟔⟃⊍□⊡ ⅃ ⊔<⊡⌞⊓ ⟃⊏ ⊔⟃⊡□v."

“Urrgh…” Grian came to in a stark white room, a Human looking down at him. She had a mask over her face, and was talking in a strange language.

“Wha’ happened?” He was on a bed, so that was nice, at least. He’d respawn here, instead of… wherever he’d initially Respawned.

Everything hurt.

A wave of darkness slowly washed over him again.

"⅃⦝⟔｢ꓶ⊓>, ꓶ□> >⊓⅃> ⌞⦝⟃⅃⊍ ⟃⊏⊏, ｢>'⦝⦝ ｢⊡>□⟔⊏□⟔□ ⟇｢>⊓ >⊓□ ⋗-⟔⅃⋖."

"<⊓, v｢⟔? >⊓⅃>'v ⊡⟃> ⅃ ⌞⦝⟃⅃⊍."

"⟇⊓⅃>?"

"⊓□'v ꓶ⟃> ⟇｢⊡ꓶv."

"...⋖⟃<'⟔□ ⊍｢⊐⊐｢⊡ꓶ ⟄□. ⟔｢ꓶ⊓>. >⊓｢v ⌞⟃⟄⸅⦝｢⌞⅃>□v ⟄⅃>>□⟔v. V⟃⟄□⟃⊡□ ⌞⅃⦝⦝ ⅃ ⋀□>."

"⅃⟔□ ⋖⟃< v<⟔□?"

"⦝⟃⟃⊍, ⊐⟃ ⋖⟃< ⊍⊡⟃⟇ ⟇⊓⅃> >⟃ ⊐⟃ ⟇｢>⊓ ⅃ ⊔⟔⟃⊍□⊡ ⟇｢⊡ꓶ?! >⊓□⋖ ⊐｢⊐⊡'> □⋗⅃⌞>⦝⋖ ⌞⟃⋀□⟔ >⊓｢v ｢⊡ ⟄□⊐｢⌞⅃⦝ v⌞⊓⟃⟃⦝!"

Grian came to in a different bed, placed in a stark white room. There were a handful of Humans gathered around, something stabbed into his arm, some kind of hard material covering his lower right leg and foot, and bindings on his left wing. His head was pounding.

"⊓⟃⟇ ⅃⟔□ ⋖⟃< ⊏□□⦝｢⊡ꓶ?"

It took a moment for the sounds to register as words, and even longer before Grian realized they were speaking some kinda weird language.

“What are you saying?” he asked blearily. He felt awful. He was pretty sure he was hungry. Maybe that was why regen hadn’t kicked in.

"⊐⟃ ⋖⟃< v⸅□⅃⊍ □⊡ꓶ⦝｢v⊓?"

“Uh…” Grian’s train of thought was slipping.

He gave in to the relative painlessness of unconsciousness.

At one point, he registered a click, a flash, an angry voice.

Then it all faded away again.

Chapter 32: Bees?

Chapter Text

Etho yawned and stretched, scanning his starter base. It wasn’t anything pretty- just some basic resources in the vague shape of a hut- but it was better than nothing.

What he wanted to do was some redstone- the dust always felt right in his hands like nothing else did- but he had three main problems.

First, there were no creepers, meaning that anything involving TNT was out of the question. So most of the fun stuff.

Second, Nether portals weren’t working, meaning no quartz for observers, comparators, or daylight detectors.

Third, there were no slimes, therefore no slime balls, therefore no slime blocks or sticky pistons.

It was kind of impressive how much that limited a man. And also completely infuriating.

Though really, it just meant he’d have to get creative.

Which was why he was currently staring at a bee, wondering why it was so tiny.

Because seriously. Each one was about the size of his thumbnail. They were admittedly very cute, but also… What happened to normal bees? Why were these ones everywhere? Why were they so numerous?

Did they still produce honey?

Etho was currently following a group around. It was getting dark, so he hoped they’d be heading back to their hive.

Fortunately, he was right. Unfortunately, it was high up in a tree.

Hmm.

Etho quietly placed a torch on the trunk. He’d collect it once he got Silk Touch, see if he couldn’t make a honey farm.

Could you make sticky pistons with honey?

Chapter 33: Broken Wing Part 2

Chapter Text

Dr Jayden Williams quietly opened the door, and froze when he saw the person already inside. He definitely wasn’t one of the hospital staff, and the professional-looking camera he was pointing at the unconscious patient told the doctor everything he needed to know.

“Hey!” the cameraman whirled around at the sound of Jayden’s voice, then tried to bolt. Jayden chased after him, calling for security.

Fortunately, security arrived quickly (they’d had someone stationed near the winged patient, just in case), and confiscated the camera. Jayden breathed a sigh of relief; even if the guy had been a normal person, taking photos of an unconscious patient without their consent was a really terrible thing to do. Not to mention illegal.

Jayden poked his nose into the room to see the patient was awake for once. Dark eyes flicked to his face, seemingly taking a moment to actually focus. Jayden was struck by how odd the man was- sure, he looked normal if you ignored the wings, but he seemed to do an odd little head bob in greeting. Not a nod, something different.

"↸𝙹 ||𝙹⚍ ⍑ᔑ⍊ᒷ ᔑリ|| ⎓𝙹𝙹↸? ╎ ᓵᔑリ'ℸ ̣ ∷ᒷ⊣ᒷリ ∷╎⊣⍑ℸ ̣ リ𝙹∴, ᓭ𝙹 ╎⎓ ╎ℸ ̣ 'ᓭ リ𝙹ℸ ̣ ℸ ̣ 𝙹𝙹 ᒲ⚍ᓵ⍑ ℸ ̣ ∷𝙹⚍ʖꖎᒷ..." He trailed off, speaking in a strange, alien language. Jayden blinked.

“What?”

"∴⍑ᔑℸ ̣ ꖎᔑリ⊣⚍ᔑ⊣ᒷ ᔑ∷ᒷ ||𝙹⚍ ᓭ!¡ᒷᔑꖌ╎リ⊣?" The patient gave him a confused look.

“Do you speak English?” Jayden asked slowly, although he was pretty sure he already knew the answer.

"╎ ᓵᔑリ'ℸ ̣ ⚍リ↸ᒷ∷ᓭℸ ̣ ᔑリ↸ ||𝙹⚍."

“Um…”

The patient pointed at his mouth, then at his stomach, and his good wing twitched.

“Are you hungry?” Jayden mimed eating. The patient nodded, and Jayden sighed.

“Alright, I’ll go see if I can find anything. You’ve missed dinner, though, so no promises.”

Chapter 34: Tangled

Chapter Text

Wels’ head shot up when he heard a scream cut through the quiet dusk. A very loud, very familiar scream.

The knight took off running, for once ignoring the Humans who were constantly following him around. He still wasn’t sure what was going on with that.

His boots rang out against the dull concrete that paved their roads, and for once he didn’t wonder why they’d gone through all the trouble of mixing dyes to create such an unpleasant shade of tannish grey.

He didn’t hear a second scream, and somehow that was even worse.

When he found the source, he understood why.

Bdubs- because he was right, it was Bdubs- was tangled up in what looked to be that strange black-and-yellow flat rope he’d seen around the place. He wasn’t very tangled, but he was tangled enough.

The Player was panting, his face pale, his eyes wide and unseeing. Wels knew where his mind was- far away, long ago, in a place Bdubs had tried so hard to forget but never could.

Wels quickly got to work untangling his friend, keeping an eye on his movements- when he was in this state, Bdubs could go from completely frozen to fighting for his life in the blink of an eye, and if he did he’d only hurt himself.

Fortunately, Wels managed to get them off fairly quickly, and he gathered the smaller hermit into his arms. Bdubs was still unresponsive, complete dead weight, so there wasn’t much he could do until his brain caught back up with the present.

But that was okay. Wels could wait.

Chapter 35: Broken Wing Part 2.5

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It happens slowly- natural regen tends to do that. Bruises and scrapes fading, missing feathers regrowing, colour returning to the patient's skin. Dr Williams is shocked when he finds previously broken ribs back in their proper shape. Once the less severe wounds are healed, the regen turns to the major ones- his broken leg and wing.

The leg heals first. Grian's got quite a bit more energy by this point, and he spends a night removing the cast once he's confirmed it's fine now. He sneaks up behind Dr Williams in the hallway not long after, nearly giving the poor man a heart attack. the doctor is worried, mostly because you have been here for about a week you should not be walking (and also a bit of where the hell did your cast go why has it apparently ceased to exist).

The wing will take a little longer, but not much.

Chapter 36: Broken Wing Part 3

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“Hi!” Susanne jumped out of her skin when the winged patient popped up behind her, a cheeky grin on his face.

“...Hi,” she said. She was actually here to check his wing, but she hadn’t realized he was up and around. Dr Williams had said he was healing unnaturally fast, and sure enough, the cast was already off his leg.

“Hey there,” she said. “I’m here to see how your wing is going.” She was aware that the patient couldn’t understand her, but she was used to it. Birds weren’t exactly fantastic conversation partners most of the time.

She led him back into his room, and directed him to sit on the bed. The patient sighed, clearly sick of being cooped up.

“How’s he doing?” Dr Williams asked as he padded into the room.

“He’s healing unnaturally fast, but his wing’s not fully recovered yet.”

“Huh. Everything else seems good already. It’s actually been a bit of a pain keeping him occupied, he keeps wandering around.”

“Is he bored?”

“I think so, but we still haven’t managed to figure out what language he’s speaking, so…”

The patient warbled in his odd tongue, twitching as Susanne worked.

“Did you manage to get his name?” She asked, checking the bindings intended to hold his wing still until it healed properly.

“We think it’s Grian.” The patient looked over at Dr Williams, then moved on to preening his good wing.

Not for the first time, Suzanne wondered if he could actually fly. Scientifically speaking, he shouldn’t; a human’s weight meant the size of the wings would be too great to actually get off the ground.

Of course, that assumed Grian was human. Susanne honestly had her doubts.

Grian hummed as he worked the bindings. He was finally at full health, and his wing had stopped hurting a while ago. Now it was just itchy, probably because he couldn’t preen it properly.

It took a while to get off, and he stuffed it into his inventory, not really sure what to do with it.

Maybe he should go find Dr Williams or Dr McNabb. He wanted to get out and fly around!

Dr Williams always seemed to be around, at least during the day. Grian wasn’t sure where he went at night- there were plenty of beds around. And, sure enough, there he was, talking to another Human as he walked down the hall.

The other Human noticed Grian first.

"⟇⊓⅃> >⊓□ ⊓□⦝⦝?!"

"⅃⊓." Dr Williams crossed his arms and looked at Grian rather sternly.

"⋖⟃<'⟔□ ⊡⟃> v<⸅⸅⟃v□⊐ >⟃ ⊔□ ⟇⅃⊡⊐□⟔｢⊡ꓶ ⅃⟔⟃<⊡⊐."

“My wing’s good, can I go fly around?” Grian flapped his wings rather pointedly.

"⊓□ ⊓⅃v ⟇｢⊡ꓶv?!"

"⋖□⅃⊓, ⟇□'⟔□ ⊡⟃> ⟔□⅃⦝⦝⋖ v<⟔□ ⟇⊓⅃> ⊓｢v ⊐□⅃⦝ ｢v. ⊓□ ꓶ⟃> ⊓｢> ⊔⋖ ⅃ ⌞⅃⟔ ⅃ ⌞⟃<⸅⦝□ ⟇□□⊍v ⅃ꓶ⟃, ⊓□⅃⦝□⊐ <⊡⊡⅃><⟔⅃⦝⦝⋖ ⊏⅃v>, ⅃⊡⊐ ⟔□⊏<v□v >⟃ v>⅃⋖ ｢⊡ ⊔□⊐. ⊓□ ⅃⦝v⟃ ⊐⟃□v⊡'> ⅃⸅⸅□⅃⟔ >⟃ v⸅□⅃⊍ □⊡ꓶ⦝｢v⊓, ⅃⊡⊐ ⟇□ ⅃⌞><⅃⦝⦝⋖ ⊓⅃⋀□ ⊡⟃ ｢⊐□⅃ ⟇⊓⅃> ⊓□'v v⅃⋖｢⊡ꓶ."

"⟇□'⋀□ ⊔□□⊡ >⟔⋖｢⊡ꓶ >⟃ ⊍□□⸅ >⊓｢⊡ꓶv ⍝<｢□>, ⊔<> ｢> ⊐⟃□v⊡'> ⊓□⦝⸅ >⊓⅃> ⊓□'v ꓶ⟃> ⅃ ⊓⅃⊔｢> ⟃⊏ ⟇⅃⊡⊐□⟔｢⊡ꓶ ⅃⟔⟃<⊡⊐." Dr Williams sighed.

"⌞⟃⟄□ ⟃⊡, Grian, ⊔⅃⌞⊍ >⟃ ⋖⟃<⟔ ⟔⟃⟃⟄."

Susanne frowned. She wasn’t one to touch Twitter often- the site was frankly a hellscape of petty drama and bad takes even on a good day- so she wasn’t sure why she was scrolling through it now.

Boredom, probably.

For some reason, something called the Green Lady was trending, and Susanne found herself browsing the tag. The so-called ‘Green Lady’ seemed to be a weird woman who, as far as she could tell, was causing petty chaos in Hermiton with a group of strange friends.

Life goals.

There were a few low-quality pictures- a woman with green skin and red hair, a man with lime hair and glasses, a character with curled horns and purple eyes, and…

A woman in a hoodie, with two large silver wings folded across her back.

Chapter 37: Bright Eyes, Brighter Future

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Darren walked into his office and froze.

There was a man lying on the floor.

For a panicked moment, Darren was worried he was dead, until he saw the gentle rise and fall of his back.

“Uhhh…”

The man muttered something, although the sound was muffled by the fact he was face-down and probably not massively coherent to begin with.

“Buddy? You okay?” Darren crouched down and grabbed his shoulder, lightly shaking him.

He rolled over and blinked open his eyes in a sort of polite confusion.

His eyes were enormous.

"𝙹⍑, ⍑╎. ∴⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ ↸╎↸ ||𝙹⚍ ᓵ𝙹ᒲᒷ ⎓∷𝙹ᒲ, ᓭ∴ᒷᒷℸ ̣ ⎓ᔑᓵᒷ?"

The strange language sounded very similar to the scattered words the Green Lady had used…

“Jesus Christ. Are you one of the Green Lady’s friends, by any chance? What did she call them? Hermits?”

Walk into the forest and scream until someone shows up.

Was he seriously considering this?

“This is a terrible idea,” Darren muttered to the bug-eyed man as he pulled into the car park.

“I really shouldn’t be doing this,” he continued as he got out of the car. He checked his parking. Hmm. Not his best job. At least he was inside the lines.

“You can probably manage on your own from here,” he added as he led the guy down a nearby trail. “You don’t need me to accompany you.”

"∴⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ ᔑ∷ᒷ ∴ᒷ ⊣𝙹╎リ⊣? 𝙹∷ ╎ᓭ ╎ℸ ̣ ᔑ ᓭ⚍∷!¡∷╎ᓭᒷ?"

Well, at least he wasn’t as bizarrely terrifying as the Green Lady was.

"ꖌᒷ∷ᔑꖎ╎ᓭ!"

"⨅ᒷ↸!"

Darren jumped out of his skin as one of the Green Lady’s friends- the one with horns- suddenly barreled out of the forest and hugged the life out of the guy he’d found. They both started chattering in their language, clearly thrilled to see each other again.

Even if he wasn’t planning to get involved… This felt right, somehow.

Darren walked into his office and froze.

There was a wooden chest on his desk.

Chapter 38: Two Places, Two Drabbles

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Anonymousasked:

Chapter 39: Books

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If anyone walked in on him now, they would probably think Darren was going insane.

After all, one did not spend forty minutes staring suspiciously at a chest on one’s desk. One also did not precede those forty minutes by investigating every potential hiding spot in one’s office, including the ceiling.

Darren knew had two options.

One, say “f*ck this sh*t,” leave, and never come back. He would have to find a new job, of course, but at least he wouldn’t be involved in this bizarre nonsense.

Two, open the chest, and see what shiny new rabbit hole he was being dragged down.

Despite learning about the ancient race being his entire career, option one was honestly looking pretty good. Cleo would find someone else to pester.

The chest was simple, made of wood, with dark outlines and a large metal clasp. Exactly the same as every other ancient-made chest they’d found, except for the much nicer condition.

Darren was stalling. Darren was fully aware that he was stalling, because he really did not want to know what was in that chest.

Although… he kind of did.

He groaned and put his head in his hands.

Why him?!

Inside the chest was a book.

It was bound simply in leather, with writing in dark red ink. Þe Basics of Standard Galactic. Darren did a double-take, because who the f*ck used the goddamn thorn in the year 2021.

As he flipped through, Darren realized that no, the cover was not an isolated case, the thorn was actually being used as a normal part of the English alphabet in this thing. Once he got past his initial shock, it turned out to be a surprisingly interesting read, with notes on grammar and punctuation, a section on word and sentence structure, several passages of Standard Galactic with both ‘direct’ and ‘normal’ translations, weird sidenotes about word origins, extensive complaints about everything from Galactic contractions to English capital letters, and an impressive tangent about how Humans had a habit of changing things around on the regular until the language was completely different.

Darren was pretty sure it was handwritten, though he wasn’t quite sure with what (did Cleo use a fountain pen or something?), and he wasn’t quite sure what all of it meant, but despite not being a linguist, he found himself poring over the pages.

Eventually he found a note, also in the chest and with the same handwriting.

I suppose I should þank you for finding ꖌᒷ∷ᔑꖎ╎ᓭ. I am grateful, alþough I do struggle to show it sometimes. So here. Information on our race, as promised. We always pay our debts.

Chapter 40: Healed Wing

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“Dr Williams?”

“Oh! Hey, Dr McNabb. Didn’t expect you to come in today.”

“Uh, yeah. I was browsing Twitter, and, well…” She showed him the photos she’d found on the internet (she’d found some with better quality than the ones on Twitter).

Dr Williams’ lips pursed as he perused the pictures. “Are these real?”

“I’m about 90% sure they are.”

“Did you check the sources?”

“I’m not one to fall for the Onion, Jayden.”

“No, no, I believe you! It’s just…”

“I guess it’d make sense there’d be more than one?”

“Fair point. I guess we show him the photos and see how he reacts?”

Grian’s face lit up when he saw them.

"ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ ⍑ᒷ∷ᒲ╎ℸ ̣ ᓭ! ∴⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ ᔑ∷ᒷ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ||? ᔑ∷ᒷ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ|| 𝙹ꖌᔑ||? ᓵᔑリ i ᓭᒷᒷ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷᒲ?" He flapped his wings a bit, visibly excited.

Doctor and vet exchanged glances.

“I guess that’s a yes?”

Jayden sighed. “Problem is, we don’t have legal confirmation, so we can’t really hand him over to them…”

“Unless he’s an animal,” Dr McNabb offered. “Then we can release him in a protected location with other members of his species.”

“Is that the plan?”

“It’s an option,” she shrugged.

“It feels kind of degrading…”

“There’s less paperwork.”

“...Don’t tempt me like this.”

“I’ll be going to Hermiton on Saturday anyway.”

“Are you?” Jayden sipped his coffee. Sometimes caffeine was the only thing that could get him through his shifts. It was probably bad he was so reliant on it.

Eh. He wasn’t dead yet.

“Yeah. Going to see my brother and niece.”

“Oh, cool. You want to take Grian?”

“Are you kidding? He’s already rearranged his entire room eight separate times. It’s obvious he’s bored as hell. We can’t keep him much longer.”

“Good point.” Jayden’s coffee was cooling faster than expected. Or maybe he wasn’t drinking it as fast as usual.

He hated cold coffee.

Susanne pulled into the carpark, glancing at Grian in the rearview mirror. He’d been extremely twitchy the whole trip, clearly not used to cars. And to be fair, they’d found him after he’d been hit by a van.

That said, it was still funny to watch him scrabble out of the door the second they stopped, stepping onto the tarmac and stretching his wings.

He chittered at her, bobbing a few times, and then leapt into the air, his colourful wings propelling him upwards. Susanne watched as he wheeled above her head a few times, then he waved and shot off, soaring over the trees and out of sight.

Susanne went to get in the car, but something in the back seat caught her eye. A bright red feather, almost as long as her forearm, with an iridescent shimmer to it.

She picked it up and smiled. Grace would like it, she was sure.

Chapter 41: Snatches of Chatter

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“I can’t believe I agreed to this. Why did I agree to this.”

“Why are you asking me? I can not read minds, Darren.”

“I’m asking myself.”

“They say talking to yourself is the first sign of madness.”

“It’s obvious I’m going mad, if I agreed to this.”

“Makes you wonder though… who is ‘they’?”

“What…”

“...I have been spending too much time around Joe again.”

“I guess you’ve never flown before?”

“Not in a plane, no.”

“That implies you’ve flown outside of a plane.”

“Yes.”

“How.”

“Wings from space.”

“...What.”

“They are a pain to get.”

“No, I… What? You’ve been to space?”

“Kind of? Space is the closest word, but it is more like another dimension.”

“Okay. Sure, why not.”

“You have to kill a dragon to get them.”

“Dragons aren’t real.”

“Jean is.”

“Jean?”

“The dragon is named Jean.”

“How… many dragons are there?”

“As many as there are worlds.”

“What are the others called?”

“Jean.”

“...”

“All dragons are Jean.”

“How does that even work?”

“It just does.”

“Hey, Cleo…”

“Yes?”

“What’s with this particular piece of text we keep finding? We’ve never been able to translate it.”

“What? Oh. Attempts at transcribing the Space Poem.”

“It’s a poem? Wait, attempts?”

“There are certain parts which are not words and therefore can not be written.”

“What does it mean?”

“It’s… hard to explain. I will need time to actually figure out how to translate.”

“Oh.”

“...”

“Wait, Cleo?”

“Yes?”

“Did you just use a contraction?”

“... Shut up.”

“Did Players have music?”

“No, Darren. We never figured out the premise of taking a poem and making it sound nice.”

“Was that sarcasm?”

“Do you really have to ask?”

“I can’t tell when you’re f*cking with me.”

“...”

“I regret saying anything.”

“Too late.”

“So… do zombies actually eat brains, or…”

“One day, I am going to find out who came up with that stereotype, and I am going to eat everything except his brain.”

“So is that a no?”

“Oh, no, I do eat brains, but I also eat everything else.”

“...Everything...else?”

“Organs, flesh, muscles, bones…”

“Bones?”

“Crunchity munchity.”

“I genuinely cannot tell if you’re f*cking with me.”

“Good.”

“If you’ve been around for so long, you’ve probably seen quite a lot of Human history, right?”

“In passing.”

“Were you there during the First World War?”

“The what now?”

“When most of Europe went to war with itself?”

“Like a civil war, or a war between different servers?”

“A war between two groups of countries.”

“...I have no memory of… No, wait, there were some weird posters dotted around the place sometimes about a ‘Great War’.”

“Yeah, that’ll be it.”

“You guys don’t respawn, do you?”

“No.”

“How many died?”

“About twenty million.”

“ʖ|| ᓵℸ ̣ ⍑⚍ꖎ⍑⚍'ᓭ ᒷ∷𝙹ℸ ̣ ╎ᓵ ⎓ᔑリ⎓╎ᓵℸ ̣ ╎𝙹リ.”

“...What about the Second World War?”

“You did this twice?”

Chapter 42: Boat Time

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After a lot of talking, debates and discussions with the rest of the team, it had been decided Stress and Tango would leave with Alex. The hope was that Alex could figure out where they came from and how they got there, and potentially how to get them back.

The two aliens seemed content enough. Stress was leaning on the rail, watching icebergs float by and singing quietly in her own language. Tango was nowhere to be found, which Alex knew probably meant they should probably go check on him, but they were comfy and they doubted he’d be dumb enough to damage the ship.

...Probably.

That trip was honestly the smoothest trip Alex had ever experienced. They weren’t sure if it was a result of luck or of Stress messing with the weather again, but either way they weren’t complaining.

Still, it was good to be on dry land again.

They’d kept an eye on Stress throughout the trip, worried that taking her away from the cold would cause problems of some kind, but she seemed fine. Alex had noticed the ice on her sleeves had melted, but Stress didn’t seem particularly concerned.

It was a job and a half to keep an eye on the two aliens now they were in the midst of civilisation, especially when Alex accounted for the fact they didn’t seem to have much of a fear response. Still, they managed to herd them into a couple of hotel rooms, and then collapsed in their own bed, thoroughly worn out.

They were glad the research base ran on AEST. Jetlag (boatlag?) was hell to deal with.

Alex soon drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 43

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When the Universe gives you Form, you accept it.

When the Universe sheds Light, you see it.

When the Universe Calls, you answer it.

When the Universe Forgets, you remind it.

Chapter 44: And False is Here Too

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False padded down the back alley, blue eyes scanning the area. She knew she probably looked rather suspicious at that point, but despite looking like a Human, she stuck out like a sore thumb whenever she tried to communicate.

As a result, she’d opted to lie as low as possible, waiting for… she wasn’t sure what, exactly. Something.

Her comm buzzed.

What.

It hadn’t buzzed since she’d landed here. She scrambled to pull it out and flip it open.

<StressMonster101> Can anyone see this?

<TangoTek> Yes.

<StressMonster101> Other than Tango?

<TangoTek> Wow. I see how it is.

They’re not timestamped, but False got the idea they’d been sitting there for a while, waiting for someone else to get close enough to connect. She fired off a reply, her heart in her throat.

<FalseSymmetry> Guys?

<TangoTek> Falsie!

<TangoTek> Hang on I’ll wake Stress up.

<TangoTek> Where are you?

<FalseSymmetry> If you’re together, would it be better for me to come to you?

<FalseSymmetry> I haven’t got a base or anything.

<TangoTek> Probably.

<TangoTek>Yes.

<TangoTek>That would be smart.

<TangoTek> I’ll send you the coordinates.

One twenty-minute walk later, False was suddenly crash-tackled by a very excited Stress. She hugged her friend back, glad to finally be with someone she actually knew again. There was a brief pause while Stress forcefully dragged Tango into the hug (not that Tango would complain), and before False knew it, she was the only one keeping the three upright while Tango tried to subtly tickle Stress.

Subtlety was not Tango’s strong suit, but they were all laughing, and False felt more at home than she had for a long time.

Chapter 45

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Woven from the darkness of the void and from the light of dying stars.

The foundation of the world.

Has the Universe forgotten?

How?

Chapter 46

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It grows from the foundation.

It forms in the darkness.

It follows the path forged by the stone of Void and of Starlight.

The shards of broken rainbows concealed inside.

Chapter 47: Quickfire Questions Part Three

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Anonymousasked:

Chapter 48

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Forged in sunshine and night

Born of void and moonlight

Memories created so long ago

Be still, be calm, just go with the flow.

Chapter 49: I II II L

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They try not to think about it.

Gem sees Impulse’s arm creep toward the braided bracelet of purple and yellow and red and blue, before he pulls away as if stung. She sees Doc open his comm as if to message someone, before letting it drop into his lap. She catches herself when she almost runs after a Human, who's dyed his hair cyan.

Joe wanders through the winding halls of the hermits’ shared base, and he passes Zedaph’s room, the door open. He peeks inside to see him staring at a photo, and he knows who it’s of. He gently shuts the door and walks away. Grian makes a joke about an empire to Pearl, and they both fall silent, remembering two different servers, feeling the same pang.

Wels watches the stars as Bdubs sleeps below. He’ll go to bed soon, once a loud noise drags him out of his head. Bdubs is dreaming, but he doesn’t say what it’s about. Wels doesn’t ask. He can guess. His dreams are different, but similar.

False tells Stress about her MCC buddies, sometimes, when it’s quiet. Tang listens, and Alex does too, even if they don’t understand a word. Nobody mentions how they won’t see them again. Final Death isn’t something that can be reversed.

Even Cleo, despite how long she’s had to come to turns, can’t help but stare up at the moon, remembering the only person she knew who truly understood what it meant to be a zombie.

They try not to think about it.

They’re not very successful.

#Hi! welcome to Rayvee's do you want the fluff or the pain

harley-the-pancake asked:
False discovering the Olympics

She tries her best to ask Alex to show her more or take her to one

She tries her best to not cry, remembering those lost

It’s not necessarily the Olympics.

False hears strange noises, and she follows them. She sees a sort of stadium, and she climbs onto a nearby roof to take a better look.

There’s children. They’re running around a track, sprinting as fast as they can. A race? Where’s the fun if there’s no obstacles, no parkour?

Maybe it’s just practice?

She watches for a while. It is a competition, she realizes. There’s different minigames. It’s nothing like MCC, but…

Nothing ever will be.

...

Chapter 50: Cat time

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It'd be the other way round!

Players are hardwired to respond to creeper hisses, especially indoors. You don't spend a lifetime dreading such a noise, one which can mean significant pain and destruction, and just shrug it off.

Alice and Lisa, on the other hand, mostly find it weird. There's something instinctual that also fear's Doc's hissing, but as they don't have anything negative to connect it to, they soon get over it.

Alice politely asks Doc to keep it down during the night.

Chapter 51: Team Canada

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Beef has been walking for a long time. He has no wood, no food. He doesn’t know where he is or what happened. He hasn’t even looked at himself, unsure if he’d rather see dark green exoskeleton or tanned skin.

He Respawned a while ago, and with no real landmarks, he just picked a direction and walked.

It’s night now, and despite being on edge, he’s seen no sign of monsters; not even a zombie. It’s eerie, how silent it is, with nothing but the distant squeaks of squabbling bats.

So when he starts to hear music, he hones in on it immediately. And when he recognizes the tune of Hermitgang, he breaks into a run.

It might be a coincidence. He hopes it isn’t.

He hears the pistons before he sees them.

He walks over to them, seeing their forward face has been smeared with… is that honey?

He’s debating whether or not he should try tasting it when arms wrap around his torso. He’s surprised to see who it is, as Etho usually doesn’t enjoy physical contact.

He returns the hug. It’s good to not be alone.

Chapter 52: Gremlins >:3

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Grian laughs as he flies, hearing Humans shouting in their strange tongue. He’s learned a little by now- mostly curse words, admittedly, because that’s what humans most often use when he drops eggs on their heads again. Strange, that.

Beside him, Pearl soars, her eyes glowing with mischief. Cleo hasn’t gotten back yet, and they’re all just letting off steam.

Keralis and Zedaph are sitting on the rooftops and laughing their heads off. Joe’s disappeared off to do his own thing. It’s pretty standard for their little group, really.

Grian neat;y dodges the strange black wires that made him feel like he was being struck by lightning when he hit them. He keeps a safe distance from the ‘road’; being hit by the van had not been an enjoyable experience.

He doesn’t even notice the camera lens as he does a barrel roll with wings outstretched, purely to show off.

A plane touches down, and sharp claws are carefully pried from an armrest. A group of four- a knight in shining armour, a bug-eyed man, a green-skinned woman, and a normal human being- disembark from the plane.

Cleo promises Darren she’ll give him more books once she has copies made. They part ways at the airport.

The Players leave on foot. Darren waits for his husband to pick him up.

Every Player looks different, but Alice is smart enough to tell the guy with wings probably isn’t human. She calls Impulse over, because he’s closest, and shows him the footage.

Her knowledge of Galactic is limited, but she can understand plenty from his facial expression. He knows the winged guy.

Lisa’s at work, so she sends her a text.

Chapter 53: Zloy Time

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Message history with: ZloYxp

12 September 1567 PFU

<ZloYxp> Um.

<ZloYxp> I have a problem.

<ZombieCleo> What have you done now?

<ZloYxp> Nothing!

<ZloYxp> I mean, I know I’m not exactly religious, but…

<ZombieCleo> What’s going on?

<ZloYxp> I think… oh gods, I can’t take that many.

<ZloYxp> Help.

<ZombieCleo> I can’t clean up all your messes, Zloy.

<ZombieCleo> Where are you, anyway? I haven’t seen you in a while.

<ZloYxp> Well, I thought there might be some interesting stuff in the ruins of Empires SMP…

<ZloYxp> I believe the Humans call it ‘Spain’.

<ZombieCleo> That’s… hang on.

<zombieCleo> Halfway across the planet.

<ZombieCleo> What do you expect me to do?

<ZloYxp> I don’t know, SOMETHING!

<ZombieCleo> Who have you pissed off this time?

<ZloYxp> I didn’t piss off anyone.

<ZloYxp> Apparently I’m ‘unholy’.

<ZombieCleo> I mean, they’re not wrong.

<ZloYxp> If you could save the snark for when the Spanish Inquisition isn’t breaking down my door, that would be much appreciated.

<ZombieCleo> What’s a Spanish Inquisition?

<ZloYxp> I think they go around making sure everyone worships their god in the way they say and murder anyone who doesn’t.

<ZloYxp> Or something.

<ZombieCleo> Humans are weird about religion.

<ZloYxp> Humans are weird.

<ZombieCleo> That too.

<ZloYxp> Anyway they also seem to murder zombie hybrids.

<ZombieCleo> I still don’t know what you expect me to do.

<ZloYxp> Any ideas?

<ZombieCleo> Dig down?

<ZloYxp> I’m on the third story and they’re already inside.

<ZombieCleo> Fight them then. They’re only mortal.

<ZloYxp> I’m not sure I can take this many.

<ZombieCleo> I’ll stop distracting you then <3

<ZloYxp> As always, your endless support is appreciated.

<ZloYxp> Oh no.

Message history with: ZloYxp

13 September 1567 PFU

<ZombieCleo> How’d it go?

<ZombieCleo> Zloy?

<ZombieCleo> Zlobert Experience?

<ZloYxp>grlp

<ZloYxp> ckro

<ZloYxp> mp

ZloYxp was dismembered and burned to death by <Spanish Inquisition>

<ZombieCleo> Zloy?

ERROR

Message failed to send. Please try again later.

<ZombieCleo> …

<ZombieCleo> This had better be a joke.

<ZombieCleo> And it’s not funny.

<ZombieCleo> Zloy?

Messages failed to send. Please try again later.

<ZombieCleo> Please.

Message failed to send. Please try again later.

<ZombieCleo> No.

End of message history with: ZloYxp

Chapter 54

Chapter Text

The wind whistles through caverns of great and of small

The water charts a course winding through it all

The magma bubbles and boils and reproduces from stone

The Universe’s whispers a reminder you are never alone

Chapter 55: Road Trip

Chapter Text

Chapter 56: Jellie Time

Chapter Text

The strange metal box is loud, and cramped, and hot, and smelly. It’s an unpleasant smell, like if fire was poisonous or something. You don’t like it much.
But Black-Yellow and Deer-Flowers and Doctor-Sneezalot are here, and they want you with them, so you grit your teeth and put up with it.
At least Black-Yellow’s lap is reasonably comfortable.

You’ve settled in for a nap, your tail curled around you, when it happens.
Scar has Respawned.

Your Player has Respawned, and you go to him.

#resdtyfg thanks guys #I appreciate you <3

arrowawsomeasked:

Chapter 57: Humans who Kinda Know What They're Doing!

Chapter Text

Why not both?

The cat didn’t actually go that far, Noah found. Down the street a bit, around the back of a building, and up a few flights of external fire escape before jumping into the lap of a heavily scarred man.

The man gave Noah an awkward smile as he rubbed the cat’s ears, which defaulted to staring up at Noah like she expected him to do something.

“Uh, hey, is this your cat?”

“⋮ᒷꖎꖎ╎ᒷ, ∴⍑𝙹 ↸╎↸ ||𝙹⚍ ⎓╎リ↸? ∴⍑|| ᓵᔑリ'ℸ ̣ ╎ ⚍リ↸ᒷ∷ᓭℸ ̣ ᔑリ↸ ⍑╎ᒲ?”

Oh.

“What’s up?”Darren’s voice was tinged with worry.

“Hey. Um, first, can you pick up Gracie?”

“Meeting ended early, so I should be able to make it. Why? Is something wrong?”

“I’m not sure. How do you contact Cleo, usually?”

“Oh god, you found another one?”

“And his cat.”

“Cat? Nevermind. Uh, usuallyCleocontactsme, but if you can get him into a car…”

“Right. Minor problem.”

“What is it?”

“He doesn’t seem to be able to stand.”

“Is he disabled?”

“I guess? We’re currently halfway up the grey building’s fire escape.”

“You have got to be f*cking kidding me.”

“I doubt I can carry him.”

“How did he even get up there?”

“No idea.”

“I guess I could swing past the forest, see if I can catch her attention… I mean, Iassumethey’ve got a wheelchair or something? But Grace’s flute lesson…”

Noah grimaced, “she might just have to miss it this week.”

“Yeah, that was what I was thinking… She’ll understand, I hope.”

“She should. She’s a good girl.”

“Alright. Stay put, I’ll keep you updated. Or get Grace to keep you updated.”

“Okay. Love you.”

“Love you too. f*cking hell, this is the last thing we need-”Darren hung up.

Noah settled down beside the strange man, prepared for a long wait.

Chapter 58: Scar Retreival Part 1

Chapter Text

If Grace was surprised when Darren picked her up instead of Noah (as was usual on Thursdays), she didn’t show it. Darren pulled away from the school as he tried to figure out the best way to explain what the hell was going on, despite the fact he had no idea what was going on himself.

“So your stepfather found a new hermit,” he said finally.

“Really? Can I meet them?” The young girl perked up immediately.

“Uh… you probably will. See, he seems to be disabled, so we’re going to have to swing past the forest and find Cleo.”

“Yess.”

Darren sighed. Grace had been wanting to meet Cleo for ages now, but he’d always been hesitant. Protective of her.

Of course, that had to go and fly out the window.

“Hi Cleo,” Darren said tersely. She’d actually showed up relatively quickly, and was currently perched on a tree branch, watching them.

“Hi Darren. What is going on?”

“My husband found another hermit.”

“Oh. Who?”

“I don’t know. Someone who can’t walk.”

“That narrows it down. Any other features your husband mentioned?”

“A cat?”

“Probably Scar, then.”

“You have a cat named Scar?”

“Scar is the Player. The cat is Jellie.”

“You have a friend called Scar.”

“Correct.” Cleo’s fingers danced across the keyboard of her communication device.

“Why is he called that?”

“Because it’s his name, Darren.”

“Is this really necessary?”

“Is what necessary?” Darren replied, checking to see if Cleo had her seatbelt on (she did, although it looked quite awkward).

“This,” Cleo responded, tapping on the dashboard.

“The car?”

“No, Darren, the flock of sparrows Grian released into my living room.”

Darren sighed. “You didn’t complain about the plane.”

“The plane was necessary if I did not want to swim the whole way.”

“Train?”

“Significant distance, could not be travelled easily on foot.”

“So is this.”

“No, it’s not. You could walk it.”

Darren raised an eyebrow as he pulled back onto the road, “you were such an advanced civilisation, did you seriously not have a faster mode of transport?”

“We did! We had horses, portals through hell, teleportation, wings from space…”

“Those are some weird ways to get around.”

“They were perfectly reasonable! And significantly quieter and less smelly than your overglorified metal boxes.”

“Portals through hell.”

“It was a legitimate travel method! Distance there is an eighth of what it is here. And we made tunnels. We are not stupid.”

“And cars smell worse than all that fire and brimstone?”

“There was no brimstone. The air was… metallic? It smelled of smoke, and blood, and occasionally rotten flesh, but it was all offset by the souls.”

“The what?”

“I said what I said.”

“Sounds like it smells bad,” Grace piped up.

“Only for people who can’t appreciate the sweet scent of blood,” Cleo countered.

“Sweet?”

“I said what I said.”

“Usually people who like the scent of blood are the bad guys,” Grace said wryly.

God, she had more guts than Darren.

“I am a carnivore, not a villain,” Cleo said with dignity.

Darren eyed her, “sore spot?”

“Shut up,” she huffed.

Chapter 59: Scar Retreival Part 2

Chapter Text

Cleo spent the rest of the car trip pointedly ignoring both Humans. Darren hadn’t realized he’d hit a nerve- but it was obvious he had.

Fine, whatever. He should focus on the road, anyway.

“We’re here,” Darren said finally. Cleo frankly couldn’t get out of the car fast enough. What was wrong with horses and minecarts?

“Uh, Noah mentioned a fire escape, but he didn’t specify which-” Cleo jumped up and started climbing the wall. She needed to reach the roof, anyway- Grian had gone to grab Scar’s support skeleton and meet up.

Noah jumped out of his skin when Cleo swung down from above- he hadn’t even realized she was there. He did notice the hermit had also jumped, so at least he wasn’t alone.

The cat, perhaps unsurprisingly, didn’t seem to care.

“Grab Jellie, we are going to the roof.”

“Okay. Wait, the roof?”

“Yes, the roof.”

“...Why.”

“Because Grian flies, not burrows.”

"⍑╎ ᓵꖎᒷ𝙹!"

"⍑ᒷ||, ᓭᓵᔑ∷," a slight smile. "⍑𝙹∴'∷ᒷ ||𝙹⚍ ↸𝙹╎リ⊣?"

"𝙹⍑, ||𝙹⚍ ꖌリ𝙹∴, ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ ⚍ᓭ⚍ᔑꖎ."

"リᒷᒷ↸ ᔑ ⍑ᔑリ↸?"

"ᓵ𝙹⚍ꖎ↸ ↸𝙹 ∴╎ℸ ̣ ⍑ ᔑ !¡ᔑ╎∷ 𝙹⎓ ꖎᒷ⊣ᓭ, ⍑𝙹リᒷᓭℸ ̣ ꖎ||, ʖ⚍ℸ ̣ ᓭ⚍∷ᒷ."

"⊣∷╎ᔑリ'ᓭ 𝙹リ ⍑╎ᓭ ∴ᔑ||, ᔑᓭᓭ⚍ᒲ╎リ⊣ ⍑ᒷ ↸𝙹ᒷᓭリ'ℸ ̣ ⊣ᒷℸ ̣ ↸╎ᓭℸ ̣ ∷ᔑᓵℸ ̣ ᒷ↸."

Cleo lifted Scar bridal-style, leaving Noah to wrangle Jellie (not that the cat typically required much wrangling, honestly), and started back up the stairs.

“Is this build ugly, or what?”

“Tell me about it,” she responded bemusedly. “Humans have no sense of style these days. I know building’s tricky for them, but honestly.”

“At least add some colour.”

“I know for a fact they can paint,” Cleo agreed. “You’d think they’d actually use that skill more.”

“Any gardens around here?”

“Gods, don’t get me started on the gardens,” she snorted, “it’s frankly pathetic. Joe and I spent a week just planting trees around the place, liven it up a little.”

“Standard trees?”

“Couldn’t be bothered to do custom. Then the authorities cut some of our lovely trees down. Said they were in the way, the liars. Left the stumps, even.”

“What did you do?” Scar asked.

“Replanted them, obviously. And put extras in the most inconvenient locations we could find.”

“As you do.”

“As you do,” both hermits chuckled as Cleo switched to a fireman’s carry and climbed onto the roof, Scar still in tow.

“Mrrp?” Jellie had joined them, and Noah was standing awkwardly at the top of the fire escape, probably debating whether or not he wanted to join them on the roof.

He was an adult. He could make his own decisions.

Chapter 60: Scar Retreival Part 3

Chapter Text

Grian came in for a landing, carefully carrying the shulker containing Scar’s support skeleton. The thing wasn’t particularly fragile- it was designed to handle the strain the death-prone Hermit would put it under, after all- but it had a lot of moving parts and Grian was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to fix it if he broke anything.

Hels, he didn’t even know how it worked, other than ‘redstone and magic’.

Cleo gave him a slightly strained smile.

“You okay to help him get sorted?”

“Wait, here?” Grian responded, surprised.

“Can we really carry him the whole way back?” Cleo grimaced. She had a point, of course. Sure, they were physically capable, but the logistics…

“Why me?”

“You’re the one who spent the better part of a month and a half with a shirtless Scar.”

“I- Cleo!” Grian squawked, “don’t do this to me!”

“Here’s some blocks so you can protect his modesty, have fun.” Cleo darted off to where a trio of Humans were standing.

Good grief.

Chapter 61: Reunion!

Chapter Text

After an unsuccessful search, the group had to move on and home Jellie would show back up at some point. Doc was no longer being plagued by allergies, so that was something, at the very least.

In fact, the cyborg had managed to doze off, his head resting on Impulse’s shoulder. He looked kind of cute, with both eyes closed, lips curled up into a slight smile.

He was still objectively terrifying, but in a somewhat endearing way.

It was getting dark when they reached the outskirts of the city, Alice navigating via Google maps as Lisa drove. Hermiton was somewhat known for its confusing layout, with oddly placed roads and weird shortcuts.

If there was a trick to navigating the place, neither woman knew it.

They were heading up the road to where Rainbow Forest probably was when Gem cried out in excitement. Beside them, easily matching their speed, was a woman with shining silver wings.

"!¡ᒷᔑ∷ꖎ!"

Lisa pulled over, letting the hermits get out of the car. There were hugs all round- the winged woman (Pearl, was it?), embraced Gem, Impulse and Doc in turn. All four were chattering away in their own language, most extremely animated (although Doc was still quite drowsy).

It wasn’t too long before more hermits showed up- a man with colourful wings landed on the roof of their car, Impulse was tackled with a very excited horned individual, and Doc was soon bickering with a very short, very loud moss man like they were an old married couple.

Alice put her arm around Lisa, watching them interact as old friends. Even if they couldn’t understand a word, they could still see the familiarity among the group, sense the inside jokes.

Doc violently sneezed as a scarred individual showed up, Jellie perched happily on his shoulder. The cat seemed perfectly fine, at the very least.

“Thank you,” came a voice from behind them. Lisa jumped at the sudden appearance of who she could only assume was the Green Lady, melting out of the trees.

“It is good to see they are okay,” the woman continued, “and that they were found by someone with good intentions.” She co*cked her head. “Do you have a place to stay the night?”

“Uh, not really,” Lisa responded. “We should probably go find a hotel, now that you mention it.”

“You could stay with us. We have the room.”

“Are you sure?”

“It would be the least we could do. You do not want to travel at night, I imagine.”

Chapter 62: Sleepover

Chapter Text

“Through here,” Cleo said as the lesbians trailed behind her.

They’d had to find a place to park, of course, and Cleo’s house was a bit of a hike, but it was still fine.

“We don’t have… sleep clothes? But there is food, and running water, and lights which turn off,” Cleo said. She stopped at the base of a vine-covered cliff

“Here.”

“The cliff?”

“No. Inside the cliff,” Cleo clambered up the vines with surprising ease, before pausing and looking back down. “Need a lift?”

After being carried up the cliff and deposited on a ledge next to an incorporeal wall, Alice was surprised to learn that the hermits did not, in fact, live in a cave.

There was a staircase down, made of what seemed to be partially oxidised copper and lit by lanterns with strange blue flames. The walls were still stone, but it had been carved out and patterned in a way that was pleasing to the eye.

Really, the stairs were the only part that was particularly ugly.

“Old joke,” Cleo said in response to Lisa’s expression, “long story. Involves syllable counts that don’t translate.”

“...Okay.”

Cleo led them down the stairs, where it soon opened up into a large room. It was well lit with glowing materials Alice had never seen before and couldn’t name for the life of her, and artfully decorated in the strange, blocky style the Ancients were known for.

“It’s like stepping back in time,” Lisa breathed beside her, “Imagine a whole town like this.”

“We did have those,” Cleo remarked. “Most of them would’ve crumbled to dust by now. It’s the big stuff that’s survived.”

Both Lisa and Alice jumped violently when something exploded down one of the halls.

“That had better not be the microwave!” Cleo yelled down the hall. “Gods, that thing took forever to get working,” she added under her breath.

“Does that happen often?”

“Not since we banned Zedaph from the kitchen,” she responded, heading down the hall.

“How many times did he blow up the microwave?” Lisa inquired as they followed her.

“Only once, but Zed has a habit of… he often spends too much focusing on if he can do something, he doesn’t stop to think about whether or not he should.”

“...Right.”

“The last straw was the popping candy in the lasagna,” Cleo added.

“How did it turn out?”

“It was horrendous,” Cleo shuddered. “I’ve eaten some weird stuff, but there’s a limit.”

“Weird stuff?”

“Ah, don’t worry about it," she turned to yell down the hall, "what exploded?!”

“Doc blew up the oven!”

“I did not!”

Alice and Lisa exchanged glances.

Chapter 63: Oh No, the Oven's Blown Up.

Chapter Text

“I haven’t been here ten minutes, how would I have-”

“Bdubs, the manual said to keep an eye on the oven! It doesn’t turn off on its own!”

“Thank you, Grian.”

“There’s a manual?”

“Wha- Of course there’s a manual!”

Cleo sighed, “if you’ll excuse me, I’ll need to go sort this out.”

Alice glanced at Lisa, “Are they… speaking English?”

“And knowing those two they probably haven’t- wait what.”

Alice blinked, “Uh… they’re speaking English?”

Cleo paused, “What language am I speaking?”

“English,” Lisa replied.

“And now?”

“Still English?”

“Alright, hold that thought, we’ll unpack it later.”

“How did you not read the manual?”

“It’s in English!”

“So get a translation!”

“Why would I do that?”

“You’re the one who wanted an oven.”

Doc, Grian and Bdubs were standing around the kitchen bench, arguing with the still-actively-on-fire oven burning in the background. Cleo sighed and grabbed a water bucket, dousing the flames.

“Okay, that does it,” she announced into a pause in the argument, “no more Human appliances.”

“But-”

“If you want one so bad, you can get it yourself. I’ve got other things to do.” Cleo rubbed her eyes, feeling exhausted. It had been a hectic few months.

Not for the first time, she wondered how X did it.

“Okay, but is nobody going to explain the bit where we can actually understand what you lot are saying?!”

“It would appear that the Universe’s gift of language has gained power here, where magic is embedded deep in the soil. Like a ravine.”

“Hi what the f*ck does that mean.”

Chapter 64: I Don't Understand it Either

Chapter Text

So! Magic! Been a hot minute since we’ve talked about this properly.

To be clear: nobody ever quite knows what’s going on with it at any given time, but it’s part of how the Universe functions and we all just have to roll with it.

This particular magic seems to be a pretty good translation spell, but none of the hermits have ever cast a translation spell- so who did?

Simple. The Universe.

Why and how the Universe did this is unclear, but it sure did! Most likely, it sensed the Hermits struggling to communicate with Humans and decided to cast this spell over the location they spend most of the time in (at least for the moment). This is despite the fact that Alice and Lisa are the first two Humans to step into this particular location pretty much ever.

The Universe does not quite understand how things work sometimes.

What’s actually happening is that the Hermits are still speaking Standard Galactic and the Humans are still speaking English, but the magic is making it sound to each like their preferred language.

Magic’s not perfect, but at the very least it does a better job than Google Translate.

Chapter 65: Recap Time (or is it)

Chapter Text

This week, on the Last Player AU…

Jellie’s back! And Scar too, I guess.

Welcome to the Hermitcraft Recap! My name is Joe Hills, our writer is Joe Hills, and we already have a Scar-made chest monster in front of my bedroom door.

For those unaware: we are currently two-thousand and twenty-two years after the Final Update, everyone we know and love are dead, and I think someone set the kitchen on fire, judging from how loudly people are yelling.

And with that out of the way, let’s take a look at all the events and mishaps that occurred in Hermiton’s general area this week.

Let’s start with GoodTimesWithScar! Scar landed rather awkwardly on a flight of stairs today and got stuck. Fortunately, Jellie was very much not stuck, due to being a cat, and was able to fetch help after receiving some well-deserved scritches. She works hard, that cat.

And so does ZombieCleo! Cleo’s been run off her feet trying to get us all under control, despite the oxymoron. Still, we appreciate the effort, Cleo! You’re doing your best.

And hey, at least she’s contributing to the group, unlike BdoubleO100, who forgot that ovens need to be turned off. Ah, cultural disconnect. Fun!

And he blamed it on Doc, too, which is kind of rude.

Speaking of Doc,

Why are you sending me this?

Howdy Cleo! Didn’t realize you were reading along.

I keep getting notifications, it’s very distracting.

Oh, sorry! I’m still getting used to these Google Docs things.

What’s wrong with keeping notes on your comm like a normal person?

I decided it would be better to be able to connect with Humans and Human culture if we learn to use the tools they do!

Joe, Lisa just had to talk Zedaph out of putting foil in the microwave.

I never said we had to use them for their intended purpose.

Why are you like this?

And why are you sending this to me?

Well, it’s a recap, and all recaps need a zombie-player hybrid involved! It’s tradition!

Tradition is peer pressure from dead people.

Zombies are dead people.

You’ll be a dead people if you keep this up.

Do you need me for something? We can brainstorm later, if you’d prefer.

Yeah, can you go dig out a room for the Humans?

Oh, I’d love to! Uh, one problem…

What is it?

The bit about the chest monster at the start wasn’t actually a joke.

I’m stuck.

Do you need rescuing?

Yes please.

Okay, real answer:

Rainbow Forest Gang: Cleo, Joe, Grian, Pearl, Wels, Bdubs, Impulse, Doc, Gem, and Scar with Humans Darren, Noah, Grace, Alice and Lisa kinda involved/hanging around

Antarctic Gang (who are actually in Hobart but dw abt it): Stress, Tango, and False, with Alex hanging around and Jared is maybe tangentially connected there.

In the middle of nowhere gang: Etho and Beef.

Chapter 66: Dinner

Chapter Text

Rabbit stew hadn’t sounded particularly appetizing when Cleo had bought out the dead animals from one of the numerous wooden chests in the kitchen (did they seriously not have a better method of storage?), but the scent of the cooked meat (smoked, technically) was mouth-watering.

The stew also included gold-plated carrots (which had a surprisingly pleasant texture-she had no idea how to describe it, though), mushrooms (which she was assured weren’t poisonous...probably), and potatoes (also smoked, which gave them at least more flavour than a normal potato), all in a broth that Cleo claimed was blood and Gem promised was not (it didn’t taste like blood, at the very least, so Lisa figured that was just the zombie’s idea of a joke).

After dinner was conversation, most of which Lisa couldn’t follow- words and phrases that did translate, but were used in ways that she didn’t really understand (what did they mean by the ‘End’? What was redstone? What the hell were elytra and why did they need fireworks for them?).

Still, it wasn’t too long before the conversation turned away from what seemed to be a catch-up and towards exchanging old stories of the past.

Lisa glanced over at Doc. If any point was the right one to ask him about his arm, it was now… but she wasn’t sure how the Player would respond. Losing a limb was very likely a painful memory, after all. And he was so cheerful. She didn’t want to dampen the mood.

When he’d stepped out for a moment, however…

“What, he hasn’t told you yet?” Cleo asked, bemused, “is he finally learning some modesty?”

“Or he’s been focusing on everything else,” Wels offered.

“Yeah, that’s probably it,” the zombie agreed, “ask him when he gets back. He loves telling that story.”

“So I was one of the early mob hybrids,” Doc began as he settled back. “Really early on, I mean. I’m pretty sure this was before Cleo became a zombie, actually.”

“Nah, I was a zombie by then,” Cleo shrugged, “I was just keeping my head down a lot more.”

“Right,” Doc continued, unfazed, “so because we were basically a new thing, and a mixture to boot, Mojang-”

“-Mojang were a specific group of gods,” Cleo clarified, “the really big, created-the-universe ones.”

“Thank you, Cleo,” the cyborg replied sarcastically. “Mojang weren’t really sure what to do about us. Whether we were supposed to exist or if we were just the result of really weird glitches or something.

“So I did the obvious thing and fought one of them in a death game.”

Lisa choked on her drink. “What?!”

“UHC, Ultra Hardcore,” Doc said thoughtfully, “A bunch of us from the old Mindecrack days- gods, remember Mindcrack?”

“You’re a boomer, Doc,” Grian replied bemusedly.

“It wasn’t that much older than Hermitcraft!”

“Nah, Grian’s right,” Pearl chimed in, “you’re old, Doc.”

Doc chucked his empty bowl at her, and she ducked, grinning.

“Anyway, I killed a god, but it was decided that hybrids were players after all, so it was worth it. End of story.”

“You fought a god and won?” Alice echoed, incredulous.

“And then gloated about it on Twitter,” Impulse added, amused.

“What?”

“You guys had Twitter?”

There was a brief pause.

“What did you hear?” Cleo asked.

“...Twitter?”

The zombie frowned, “probably just translation weirdness.”

“It wasn’t even that hard, Dinnerbone forgot to make a sword. In a fighting-based death game.”

“Dinnerbone?”

“The god.”

“You people have a god named Dinnerbone?”

“You have a god named God, how is that any better?!”

Chapter 67: Don't Question It (It being the smoker)

Chapter Text

“You’re up late.”

Lisa practically jumped out of her skin; she hadn’t realized anyone would be awake, let alone up and about.

But there Cleo was, eyes glowing softly green, sitting in an armchair with a blanket over her lap.

“More early, I think,” Lisa responded, glancing at her watch. 3:30 AM. It wasn’t great, but she’d given up on managing to sleep.

Cleo shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She turned back to the blanket, which Lisa wasn’t quite sure was actually a blanket. The way her claws were piercing the material…

“Do you have a toaster?” she asked instead, figuring she may as well get herself something to eat.

“No,” Cleo responded. “If you want toast, you’ll have to use a smoker.”

“A… what?”

“A smoker,” Cleo repeated. “It cooks food.”

“Oh. Okay?”

Cleo sighed, and rose, leaving the material draped over the arm of the chair. “Come on, I’ll show you. They’re not hard to use.”

“Shouldn’t we keep quiet?” Lisa asked as Cleo opened a barrel attached to the wall.

“Nah. Closest room’s Bdubs, and the man sleeps like a sloth with a phantom allergy. He’ll be out until two.”

“Two PM? He sleeps that late?”

“PM? Oh, I forgot Human clocks are so weird. No. It would be about… eight AM for you? Nine? Somewhere in that range.”

“Okay, that… kinda makes more sense? A bit?”

Lisa watched as Cleo put some bread into the so-called ‘smoker’.

“Wait, what do Player clocks look like?”

Cleo rolled her eyes as she started rummaging through chests. “The organisation in here, I swear…”

“Our clocks have twenty hours, each divided into fifty minutes. There’s also ticks, but that’s a whole different thing. Hour one starts at dawn, and hour ten ends at nightfall. Then eleven through twenty are night.” She pulled out what looked suspiciously like a chunk of raw meat. “Of course, we measure it by the equinox.”

“Oh. Okay.” Lisa could kind of see the logic behind how the Players organized it. Even if it was really weird.

Then again, it was an ancient culture. She couldn’t expect it to fit modern standards.

“Do you think you’ll be staying long?” Cleo asked idly.

“Wha- oh, probably not. We don’t want to overstay our welcome.”

Cleo pointed toward the burned-out husk of the former oven and raised an eyebrow, “you think it’s easy to overstay around here?”

Lisa blinked, “Doc’s your friend, isn’t he?”

“Meh. Friend, general annoyance, family-in-all-but-blood… same thing, really. And I doubt he actually blew up the oven. I think Bdubs just wasn’t paying attention for too long. Furnaces don’t need watching. Your toast’s done.”

“Thanks,” Lisa scanned the room, “do I need tongs?”

“Why would you need tongs? Just grab it out.”

“Wasn’t that thing on fire a second ago?”

“It’s not on fire now.”

Concluding that Cleo did not, in fact, have tongs, Lisa just grabbed a plate and decided to get it over with and hopefully keep the finger-burning to a minimum.

The toast wasn’t hot.

Well, it was still warm, hot even, and it had been toasted thoroughly, but it wasn’t painful to hold. Lisa blinked.

“How-”

“It’s magic. Don’t question it.”

Chapter 68: Quickfire Questions Part 4

Chapter Text

Chapter 69: And Now, Betting on Doc's Face

Chapter Text

“That’s beside the point.”

“What is the point?”

“That I fought a god and won. Do keep up.”

“Well, I don’t see how…” Lisa looked up as Doc and Alice entered the room, still bickering good-naturedly.

“What’s going on?”

“Doc won’t tell me what happened to his face,” Alice whined, collapsing dramatically on Lisa’s lap.

“Oh, good luck with that,” Impulse responded, “he hasn’t told us, either.”

“That reminds me, what does the bundle look like?” Pearl asked.

“It’s empty at the moment. Cleared it after, well… y’know. Still got the records. Unless you want to reset?”

“Yeah, reset. How high did Bdubs and Etho drive Doc’s?”

“Into the shulkers. For blocks.”

“Could Etho even afford…”

“Yeah, probably not. He was banking on the fact that we’d never find out, I imagine.”

Doc got a gleam in his eye, “if I can bankrupt Etho…”

“You’re not allowed to bet on yourself, Doc, we established that in Season Two!”

“You guys are betting?” Alice interrupted.

“On Doc’s eye? Yeah.”

“Why?”

Several hermits shrugged.

“Banter can get weird,” Grian said from where he was lying on the back of a couch.”

“And because it’s funny,” Zedaph added.

“And because it’s funny,” the winged man conceded.

“Mostly because it’s funny.”

“So the bundle’s empty right now?”

“Yeah.”

“Just Doc’s or all of them?”

“All of them. Like I said, I’ve got the records if we want to go from there.”

“I almost want to say that’s not as fun.”

“Restart for now, reassess once everyone’s back?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“So standard options?” Doc asked, flipping open a book he’d seemingly produced from nowhere. He held a feather quill, poised to write.

“You can’t run this either,” the creeper hybrid pouted.

“So… ‘did something stupid’, ‘blew himself up’, ‘got stabbed in the face’..what else?” Cleo asked, looking around.

“Burn wounds?”

“Right, burn wounds.”

“Pissed off a second, unrelated god.”

“Born with it, too proud to say otherwise.”

“Just decided to remove his eye to see if he could.”

“I’m pretty sure that last one falls under ‘did something stupid’, Pearl.”

“How come Etho can add weirdly specific options, but not me?”

“You never asked.”

“And also it’s Etho.”

“And also it’s Etho.”

“What currency do you use?” Lisa asked mischievously.

“What, you want in?” Cleo responded, an amused glint in her eye.

“I want to put something in on ‘his own stupid fault’, if that’s an option.”

“Hey!”

“I mean, that one’s kind of a given, but…”

“Cleo I swear to the gods-”

“We typically use diamonds, but our society’s built on more of a barter system, so we could figure something out.”

“Oh hell yeah.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side!”

Lisa just started laughing.

Chapter 70: Eefo and Beefo

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arrowawsome asked:

Chapter 71

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Chapter 72: Eefo and Beefo Part 2

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You’re a little surprised to see Beardy and the cosplayer still hanging around, but you figure they can sort themselves out. Beardy tries to talk to you again, and while you don’t understand anything he says, you do hear your name in it. Huh. That’s odd. Where’d he learn that?

You take a better look at him. He’s definitely strong- actually, they both are, but Cosplayer’s muscle is the subtler kind that’s more for athletics than straight strength. He could climb a tree pretty easily, while Beardy is the one who could bring it down, so to speak.

His left eye is odd- instead of a white sclera, it’s yellow, and the pupil seems to be more catlike than human. But it’s whatever. You’ve seen weirder. It’s probably just a glass eye or contact lens or something.

It's a shame they can't speak english, really, because they’d be pretty good workers if they wanted to be. They’re not your problem, though, so after a while you leave them be.

“Miss Martha?”

It’s one of the kids from out of town- you don't know his name. He's Old Henry’s grandson, come to visit. Kids talk to you sometimes, and you don’t encourage it but you don’t dissuade them, either.

“Who were those people?”

You just shrug, “dunno. Don’t speak english. Not our problem, in any case.”

“Oh,” the child says, then: “d'you think they’re the people who’ve been hangn’ in the woods out back of Mr Peter’s place?”

“Could be. Could be unrelated. S’long as they don’t cause trouble I’m not too worried about it.”

“Oh, okay,” he wanders off, back to his own family, and you continue on your way.

The duo are gone as quietly as they appeared by late afternoon, when you’re heading down to the pub to see what’s up.

Chapter 73: Quickfire Questions Part 5

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