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coni
hi. i write stuff sometimesmcyt main blogall pronouns
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Docm77 pipeline
IRL Doc -> his old skin -> his current, usual skin -> MaidM77 (plus the butterfly wings) -> Pink Doc (you love to see it XD)
Based on this good ol' thing
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What do you get when you give a HSR sddict a hermit? Vidyadhara Joel! :D
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Some current content plans o7 making good on all those promises
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rip secret life lizzie you would've loved a lizzie/gem spacebuns team up
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The hearts on your arm seem to glare up at you. There are ten of them in a neat column, each one with tiny slits for eyes. They disappear slowly, one by one every time you take a tick of damage, fading away into the black of your scales.
Your health didn't work like this in other worlds. You remember the warmth of regen, powerful crystals keeping you afloat and alive, and you wonder if you'll be able to find something like that in this dimension.
Can you live forever? You want to. (Some part of you knows that's a dream too far out of reach, a wish never granted. Yet you yearn for it anyway. You always have.)
You rub at your neck. The phantom sensation of slashing is familiar, maybe a little bit terrifying. You haven't died yet, you don't know what it feels like. (And yet, you've done this before, so many times. You've died, over, and over, and over, and over, an-)
(You're pretty good at dying. You're not so good at staying dead.)
"I'm sorry," you say to the little hearts decorating your skin. Your voice is quieter than you mean it to be. "I'll try not to take so much damage."
(The hearts seem to glare a little less after that.)
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i'll be real with you i'm too aromantic to care about this
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he is a man of simple needs (his special little block)
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You’ve done this before.
You know you have. Deep in the lines of Code that make up your fragile existence lies the history of a thing that has done this before.
It wasn’t quite like this, you know. There wasn’t so much laughter. The sky wasn’t blue, and neither were you. Your talons couldn’t hold things, you could see out of both of your eyes, and you weren’t human. You think.
(Is that what you are now? You can’t tell. You don’t think so. You’re oddly human shaped, at the very least.)
You’re a Player, now. You recognize this string of Code, remember thinking of yourself as an enemy first and foremost, before you remembered, before you realized-
You’ve done this before.
Not this easily. Not with tools. You’ve destroyed things, buildings, people. You breathed fire back then, used it to chase them off your island, out of your home. Your wings were the sky itself, and with each powerful wingbeat came the clap of a thunderstorm as you collapsed onto your prey and swallowed them whole.
(You don’t have wings anymore. You want to miss them. There’s an ache you can’t describe deep in the tresses of your Code. You don’t know why it’s there, you’ve never had wings before.)
Now you climb into a boat with one of the other Players, curling your tail around your feet to make room for both of you, laughing as you adventure together, discovering new things and new structures. As you climb to find loot and leap into the water below the scales on your face glow in a way they never have before.
The sheep you find are soft, your adventure is sweet. At the end of each day your companion digs a hole in the wall, and you find a place next to them to wait out the dangers of night, to smelt your treasures into something you can use.
“I’ve never been to the Overworld before,” you remember.
“You haven’t?” says your companion.
“I don’t think so,” you say, “maybe once.”
On another Server, in another life. You’ve done this before, but you’ve never lived.
“Huh,” remarks your companion.
You sit atop a chest, (you’ve never been small enough to sit on a chest), and watch the flames of the furnace crackle away. You’ve never seen copper armor before, but soon you’ll get to wear it, and your hands flap at your sides and your tail thumps on the side of the chest and your companions are eating and you want to do this forever.
You’ve never done this before. You flick your ears and smile to yourself, and think today is a wonderful day to start.
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HAPPY 3RD BIRTHDAY TO 3RD LIFE AND THE CANARY CURSE!!!
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its so great seeing what the hermits look like irl because every single time i am so shocked and confused. like wdym doc isn't a goat-creeper-cyborg thingy irl?? grian's eyes aren't far apart enough to build a highway between them????? mumbo is BLOND????????
the only exception is gem she looks exactly like i thought she would
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SKIZZ KILL THEM... <- would you believe me if I told you this was the voice of the angel on his shoulder
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The best way that I’ve found to describe GeminiTay is as Hermitcraft’s firecracker. She’s lively, feisty, and not one to shy away from trouble. Her explosive energy gives a faint smell of smoke and wood shavings.
(Almost like how it smells when you go in a fireworks store, or when a lot of fireworks have been going off? Sorry if the scent thing is weird, blame my synesthesia.)
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