#(last life—not giving bdubs a heart— trying to win for bdubs and then losing— coming back to s8 feeling like he can’t face bdubs—> | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tunastime · 5 months

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currently in a strange state of thinking about how etho, known runner and ‘he’s a survivor,’ chose to protect cleo and grian even at the detriment of himself and the rest of the server, something something ethubs is in a weird position while cletho is definitely winning (idk if any of this is making sense) the difference between “he loves me” versus “i never expected him to protect me”

YES. OKAY. I had to run and watch bdubs' episode from this week since I hadn't seen it and good grief. yeah. I've really been avoiding making silly life series things into dramatics this time around, but there's something that runs so deep between etho and bdubs regardless of that that I had to answer this. I actually wrote something up and then reworded the whole thing into this:

so I think etho and bdubs play the game very differently, and I also think, that, at least from a character standpoint, bdubs and etho understand that difference between each other. both etho and cleo don't see bdubs as a threat, even on red (especially with the way etho waltzes around him like it doesn't mean anything, aligns himself with him as soon as he's infected, and has since the beginning, offered some sort of haven for bdubs to exist in). so as much as ethubs might be on temporarily shaky ground, if we consider the context of them in the life series as a whole, I think this isn't the first time that etho's elected to protect his teammate and chance of winning. Which. Help girl!!

etho is also more scared of cleo than he is of bdubs--I think etho's often taking advantage of bdubs' kindness and forgiveness, and I think he thinks it's much less likely that cleo will forgive him as easy as bdubs would. with that, I think also that etho doesn't remember the bargains and pacts he makes when he's faced with a quick decision. his loyalties at the beginning of the season don't stick throughout the whole time the game is played--or they nearly don't. I think they kind of treat their loyalties differently as well. as much as etho wants to keep everyone he cares about in his immediate circle, he is, like he always is, spreading himself much thinner than he actually can.

so I think. yeah. it makes sense that etho would elect to protect cleo. I think he protects grian less than he does cleo (since he talks about where grian is in the base, and goes to get the warden and such), and part of me thinks that's because people know what happens when you team with grian. lest we forget grian's horrible track record of killing his allies. I also think it's important to note that I think both cleo and etho are scared--of the game, of the people around them, of losing their progress--while grian is not. grian doesn't fear the games at all.

I will also say, that the phrase we also should be bouncing around is bdubs' "this is how you treat me?" because. good grief. something about that--I think the real jealousy of bdubs' voice kind of seals the deal for me. I really do think that bdubs' jealousy is warranted, despite him knowing that etho never agreed to give him anything. I think he's operating less on an assumption that etho would offer him something in return, and more on the idea that etho, after hearing bdubs tell him how far he would go for him, still chose to hide his overt ally. that's the real kicker here I think. etho up until this point was trying to play both sides, and doing well, up until he deliberately chose to side with cleo, his overt ally, and not bdubs, his long-time friend. I think etho cares about both of them deeply, but he's having to choose a side that serves kind of his best interest, and cleo is that side, both for his own protection, and because bdubs isn't really his overt ally.

I really think this is like. holding up a mirror to last life. we get comments from bdubs about the heart, about how etho and him can be on the same side, and then we also get etho choosing his partner over the rest of his teammates, and almost over himself.

do I think it comes down, this time, to etho's supposed clear path at winning? to not wanting to dig himself further down into a hole, like he did spreading himself too thin in last life? maybe! do I think bdubs is seeing the same thing pan out again and wondering if it'll be different? absolutely! do I think this means cletho is winning? maybe? I think if anything, this dissuades them from turning on each other. loyalty granted sort of situation, and etho's respect and care for cleo shining through. do I think this means that ethubs is losing? no <3 never <3 if anything, etho will ultimately recognize his horrible mistake and come crawling back, like he always does. but I think him choosing cleo over bdubs in that moment is to protect himself from a fallout he knows he can manage, versus one that might have him killed.

he's a survivor, man.

BUT ALSO. lest we forget. they are SO stupid and silly. bdubs as both a character and creator is incredibly dramatic, and will always cajole etho into the worst situation possible. and etho is a pathetic loser who will always fall for it and worry about upsetting his friends. he will also always be the most spooked person in the world.

UM LMAO did any of that make sense?

#THIS WAS. WAY LONGER THAN I TWAS SUPPOSED TO BE. SORRY ANON #UM #HOW WE DOING TONIGHT EVERYONE #the way i talked to shepherd for two HOURS about this very ask #good lort #asks #text #anon #slsmp #secret life smp #secret life spoilers

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theres-an-impulstor-among-us · 3 years

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3rd life, Tango and Impulse are the last two standing?

this was the first 3rd Life request i received and oh boy have i wanted to work on it for so long. apologies for the older ones i havent touched yet; i’m getting to them! i’m just in more of a 3rd Life mood atm :)

...

Etho drowned

Impulse stares at the death message on his communicator with wide eyes. “Oh my gosh,” he whispers hoarsely. “He did it… Tango got him…”

He checks the tab list. Etho is gone. Only two red names stare back at him: his own and Tango’s. The endgame he’s been avoiding for weeks is finally here.

Impulse continues trading with his villagers, though there doesn’t seem to be much point anymore. Tango is undoubtedly on his way here right now, and he’ll probably want to end things right here and now. There’s only two people left, both on red. One more death will end the game, no matter who dies.

He finds himself hoping that Tango will fall into a ravine or get exploded by a creeper before he even makes it here. But he knows it won’t happen. There’s only two ways this could end, and neither of them are very appealing to him.

All too soon, he hears the familiar voice of his best friend call his name. Wincing briefly, he turns and finds Tango standing in the entrance to his villager trading hall. “Hi, Tango.”

“You saw in chat, right?” Tango’s red eyes are glowing bright, as is the red heart on his neck. “I got him. My trap worked!”

Impulse nods. “I saw. Heck of a way to kill your close friend.”

“Yeah, well, he would’ve killed me with no hesitation, so I did what I had to do to survive.”

“You’ve done a lot of things like that,” Impulse remarks carefully. “Remind me again who you’ve killed?”

“Grian, Bdubs, Scott, Jimmy, Ren, and now Etho,” says Tango gleefully. “Etho’s my first red lifer, though. Gotta say, there’s a hell of a rush in taking someone’s last life and knowing they won’t be able to come back and confront you.”

Impulse slowly shakes his head. “That’s a really… cold thing to say. Remember, we don’t know exactly what happens when we lose our last life. It’s likely we just appear back on our normal servers, but Grian said he didn’t even know that for certain.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Tango rolls his eyes. “Whatcha up to?”

“Getting some books to enchant my stuff so you’ll have a harder time killing me,” Impulse wants to say. Instead, he opts for the safe answer and says, “Just some trading. You… want some emeralds?”

“Nah, I don’t need to trade right now.”

The two fall silent for a moment.

“So I guess we should address the elephant in the room,” says Impulse slowly. “We’re the only ones left. The last two standing.”

“Uh huh.” Tango’s eyes are still worryingly sparkling red. “We are. And don’t think I’m stupid, Impy. I know about the traps you put around your base. Plus the ones in Renchanting and the desert.”

“I didn’t put those there.”

“Whatever. Point is: I know where all the traps are. So don’t think you’re gonna get the drop on me. And when it comes to PvP, I’m stronger.”

“Are you trying to tell me to just lay down and accept my death?” Impulse demands.

“Hell no. Don’t do that! That’d be the worst way to end this whole thing.” Tango pauses a moment. “Who’ve you killed, again?”

“I… I killed Joel and Cleo.”

“And?” prompts Tango pointedly.

Impulse winces. “And… you. I took your second life.”

“Yes, yes you did. And I’m not gonna let you take another.”

“I don’t want to do that, Tango. I may be a red lifer but I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“Too bad,” Tango says coldly. “This is the moment I’ve been waiting months and months for. Two people left. I’ve done too much and fought too hard to delay my victory any longer. Come to the village with your best armour and your best sword, and if you’re not there in five minutes, I’ll hunt you down and kill you without mercy. Got it?”

Impulse can hardly hold back a shiver at the viciousness in his best friend’s voice. “G-Got it.”

“Good.”

Impulse watches Tango leave, before letting out a deep breath. He can’t deny he’s terrified; this is the final confrontation. Either he or Tango won’t make it out alive. And he has a suspicion as to which one will lose their last life first. As blunt as Tango had been, he’s right. Tango knows where all the traps are, he’s better at PvP than Impulse, and he has the fortune to have known Impulse long enough to be able to reliably anticipate any tricks he could come up with.

Impulse hardly stands a chance.

After assembling his best armour under the circumstances, Impulse takes his enchanted diamond sword and heads out into the village. He can already see Tango sitting atop one of the houses, legs dangling over the side. Tango’s armour is iron but enchanted, whereas Impulse’s is diamond and unenchanted. He doesn’t know which will be better in this scenario but he’s leaning towards the enchanted armour.

Tango spots him approaching and jumps down from the house, swinging his own enchanted diamond sword. “Sorry it has to be this way, Impulse. I hope you know that however this finishes, you’ll always be my best friend.”

Somehow, I don’t think you’ll be very happy with me if I’m the one who somehow wins after all this, Impulse thinks.

Aloud, he says, “I’m sorry too.”

A brief pause follows his words.

Then Tango charges forward and the fight begins.

Impulse blocks Tango’s first two blows, but the third glances off his armour. This completely throws him off and Tango lands a few more hits on his armour.

Losing his nerve, Impulse scrambles backwards and takes off running, hoping to give himself time to think of something.

“Hey!” Tango yells. “What are you doing?! Get back here!”

Impulse sprints as fast as he can towards Bdubs and Cleo’s abandoned castle. Without slowing, he jumps on the ruined planks of the drawbridge and makes it across to the other side. When he dares to look back, he notices Tango skidding to a halt on the other side of the moat.

Impulse involuntarily nods to himself. Tango hates parkour, even simple ones.

After taking a moment to compose himself, Impulse turns and spots Tango halfway across the bridge, jumping steadily from one plank to another. Panicking, Impulse jumps on the pressure plate in the centre of the room, before bolting for the stairs.

Tango has just reached the entrance when he hears the telltale hissing noise and he curses. He doesn’t have enough time to follow Impulse to the stairs and he knows it, so all he can do is dive back across the drawbridge.

The TNT goes off a second later, sending Tango flying onto the bank. It’s been placed in such a strategic way that it only destroys the lower floor; the second floor, which Impulse has managed to reach, is entirely untouched.

He grabs a spare bow and some arrows, and fires a few out the slit window at Tango, who is struck in the leg by one and has to retreat to avoid getting hit by the others.

Impulse takes a deep breath. This is a good position; he has the high ground, as it were. He has the advantage right now.

Unfortunately, that advantage becomes a lot less palpable when he realises his meagre arrow stock has run out.

Through the split window, he spots Tango running back across over the drawbridge, clearly realising that Impulse is out of ammunition. His leg is bleeding from where he’s pulled the arrow out but he doesn’t seem to care right now.

Impulse rushes for the second set of stairs and bursts out onto the top of the castle. Over the ramparts, he can see the long abandoned village he used to call home and he’s briefly gripped with a deep sense of sadness and nostalgia.

A few seconds later, he hears footsteps behind him and whirls round to find Tango charging towards him. With only a split second warning, Impulse ducks under his outstretched arm and rushes for the stairs again, but Tango sweeps his legs out from under him. Impulse lets out a cry of pain as he lands heavily on his wrist.

“NO!” Tango yells, standing over him with his sword, forcing him to roll over and look him in the eye. “You’re not running away again! I’ve waited TOO long for this; now fight me!”

Impulse responds by kicking Tango hard in his already injured leg, before rolling to his feet and taking advantage of Tango’s distracted state to shove him away.

Tango stumbles back, his mind fuzzy from the pain. His diamond sword dangles in his grasp. His chest heaves as he gasps for breath.

“Tango…” Impulse straightens up, a sympathetic look on his face. “Please. We don’t have to resolve it this way. Let’s just live together in this world until one of us dies naturally. There’s no reason for us to murder each other just to win this stupid game.”

“No,” growls Tango softly. “You’ve no idea what I’ve sacrificed to get here. If somehow we do go back to Hermitcraft after we die in this goddamn world, do you think anyone’s still gonna wanna be friends with me?”

“Then why burn all your bridges like that?” Impulse demands. “3rd Life is temporary but we’ll be on Hermitcraft for decades to come. Why throw it all away?”

“Y-You don’t understand. I have to win this. Th-There’s no other way to end this.”

Impulse carefully steps towards his best friend. “Tango. Plea-.”

“I SAID NO!”

Tango charges at Impulse, who intercepts him and throws him away from him.

What he hasn’t noticed is how close he is to the edge of the parapet.

Tango manages to catch Impulse’s wrist, pulling him to the ground, but the shock of the landing releases Tango’s grip on him.

Impulse gasps as he realises that his friend has disappeared over the side of the parapet. He hardly dares look, but his communicator going off only confirms what he already knows to be true.

Tango fell from a high place.

Tango is gone.

Impulse has won.

He struggles to a sitting position, wincing at the pain in his arm. It’s over. It’s really over.

After all this time, all these deaths, he’s the last one standing. The “winner”, if you could even call him that. He’s done so much to survive: things he’s ashamed of, things that will stay with him for the rest of his life. The things he’s witnessed will also haunt him; the deaths of everyone around him, including his best friends, as he’s unable to do anything about it.

After what feels like hours, he discards his armour and steps up onto the parapet, the breeze ruffling his t-shirt and shorts. At the bottom, he can almost picture Tango’s body, broken on the hard ground below him. He doesn’t know if his death will take him back to Hermitcraft, back to Tango, but anything is better than staying here alone in this world, void of happiness and life.

“I’m coming home, Tango,” he murmurs.

With that, he lets himself fall.

#3rdlifesmp #3rd life smp #impulsesv #tangotek #vaunna’s requests

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micer2012 · 3 years

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no cure is coming, you know (LLSMP Fic)

A few months into Last Life, Skizz and Tango are some of the only members to still hold onto their humanity. With Tango the only member on dark green and Skizz on yellow, Skizz is cursed as the Boogeyman at the beginning of their session. He knows that without hesitation, without question Tango will give one of lives to him… and that’s exactly the problem. [3k words] [crossposted on ao3]

just trust in me, my dear… no cure is coming near.

“Skizz! Countdown time!”

Skizz heard Tango’s voice coming from one of the top layers of their castle, their home. He put down the axe he had been using and ran inside the castle, shutting the door behind him.

“Boogey time?” Skizz called. “Boogey time, my brother!” Tango responded, barreling down the stairs to meet Skizz.

And right on cue, as the moon hit the highest point in the sky, the countdown began in their heads. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1…

Silence filled their home.

“Nothing. You good?” “Yeah! Yeah, ob-viously. What, were you worried?”

Tango laughed. “I- I mean a little. I gotta be worried a little. There’s what.. 5 non-reds left?”

“And MY teammate is the only one who’s still on dark green.” Skizz boasted, hand on his chest.

Tango punched him playfully, snickering. “Don’t get so high and mighty! I went from.. What, 11 lives? Down to a measly 4.” “That’s only because you were such a good sport about it, Tango Tops. You coulda kept those for yourself, y’know. Been the schamaze of all time.”

“Ha!. Suppose it would have been. But- but I bet we’d have FAR more enemies. It would not have been a good idea to be on that many people’s bad sides that early…” “I coulda took em.”

Tango laughed again. “Y’think? Etho and Bdubs? Cleo?” “I coulda took em. If they were trying to hurt my best friend.”

Tango smiled sadly at him, before looking down. “I wouldn’t want you to lose any more of your own lives because of My theoretical jerk move.” Skizz just looked at his friend, before sitting down on the floor, gesturing wildly with his hands. “Well, Theoretically, I wouldn’t lose any lives then! I’d just do a super good job, and kill them down to 0.” Tango let out another laugh. “Says the guy who lost his life to a mob!”

Skizz pointed his finger accusatory at Tango, still criss-cross applesauce on the ground. “Hey, it wasn’t a ’’’mob’’’ it was a BABY ZOMBIE. You KNOW how much I hate those Lil’ annoying kids! Those- Those are more dangerous than most of the people on this server. THEY are the ones with the bloodlust, I’m tellin you.”

Tango laughed again. “Heh, suppose you’re right. At least it wasn’t an enderman, right?” Skizz narrowed his eyes. Yellow, but the sclera were still tinted purple from the… events of the previous season. “Tango Tops, if I had lost my first life to an enderman AGAIN, I think I would have just quit the server.” Tango snickered. “True that! True that. Alright, I’m gonna go back to my scouting.” Skizz pushed himself up from the floor. “Of course! I’ll be.. I think I might go caving.” Tango turned back to meet his eyes. “W… Will you be far from the base?”

Skizz paused, and then shook his head, hands up. “No, no! Just like, tunneling nearby. I won’t.. I’m not leaving our base, I’m not leaving you here with the.. With those Swarms.”

Tango nodded. “Of course, of course just.. Just checking. Are.. Are you sure you want to go out alone? The boogeyman just got chosen and- and you’re… one of the 4 victi-”

“Hey, don’t you talk like that. You’re a much higher target than me, and you Know I can take care of myself, right?” Tango looked to him, then looked away. “I’m just.. On- on second thought, you’re sure you don’t want me to come? We can go mining together, better- better to have eachother’s backs.” “Then the castle will be unprotected.” “I don’t care. Better it get raided than us.” “No, this- this is our Last bastion. We CAN’T let this fall, then.. Then we’d have nothin’, Tops!”

Tango’s eyes were soft when he looked back up at Skizz. “If I lose you, then I’ll have nothing.”

Skizz was taken aback. He froze for a few moments, before walking over and putting his black-stained hands onto Tango’s shoulders. “Hey, d-don’t talk like that. I’m not going anywhere! F-FIRST sign of danger, I’m calling you and running back home. Okay, buddy?” Tango nodded. “Yeah.. Yeah. Okay. Be-be careful.” Skizz patted his shoulders, before walking out to leave the base. “Of course, Tops! Nothing bad’s ever gonna happen to your buddy Skizz.”

❤❤❤

You are the boogeyman. You must by any means necessary kill a green or yellow name by direct action to be cured of the curse. If you fail, next session you will become a red name. All loyalties and friendships are removed when you are the boogeyman.

Skizz looked down at the message sent to him on his communicator, hands shaking so much it was hard to read the screen.

But he didn’t need to read the screen, he had heard the message beamed loud and clear into his own head. He- He had lied and Tango had believed it. Tango would believe anything he said. He knew that- He- He knew the second he told Tango he was the boogeyman, his friend would immediately let him take one of his lives and free Skizz from the curse. He probably wouldn’t even be mad that Skizz had lied to him earlier.

Skizz had dug himself a hole in the wall of one of the mountains near their base, 10 deep and covered up. He paced the 3x2 room he had made now, this tomb, ranting to himself. He needed to get his thoughts out SOME way.

“Ok. So.So I-I’ve gotta get SOMEONE. A green or y.. Oh, this WHOLE time too I thought killing one of the reds would be fine- THAT would be too easy huh?? We’ve got HOARDS and hoards of hostile reds trying to hunt us down every moment, targeting us like mobs- but NOO. Nooo, it’s gotta be one of the people who’ve still got humanity, huh? Cruel. CRUEL trick to play on Skizz.”

Hand on his head, he scrolled through the list of names on the communicator. He and Cleo were on yellow, BigB and Lizzie were on green… Tango was on dark green. He scrolled back down, cutting off Tango’s name. No. No, that was off the table.

“T..Tango Tops has got the best chance of winning right now out of all of us. Even- not just Life wise, but he’s sharp. Tango’s a sharp cookie. Right now, he’s got the best shot of winning.”

He kept looking at his communicator, before shoving it back into his pocket and groaning, hand on his face. “GAAAGHH, WHY DOES IT GOTTA BE A GREEN OR YELLOW?? L--Lizzie and BigB and Cleo, they’re still up this long because they’re Set up. They’ve Got an alliance, they- they’re untouchable to the reds. I surely won’t be able to be touching them!! ‘Specially without Tango’s help!!” He gripped his face, growling again, before punching the cobblestone wall to the side of him. “And-And I CAN’T tell Tango this. I’m not bringing him into some.. Into some yellow and green fistfight. He’s gotta stay safe, he’s the biggest target on the server.” Skizz was breathing heavily, adrenaline that had been building up leaving as his hand stood in place in the small crater he had made in the wall. “He..He’s gotta stay safe. He’s got the biggest chance of surviving out of everyone. I..” Skizz withdrew his fist, balling it up and rubbing it with his other hand. It hurt. “I can’t do that to him. I’m not gonna be the one who hinders my buddy’s chance.”

The adrenaline gone, Skizz just stood in his little 2x3 box, the chill of what he had to do running up his spine. He kept running his hand over his other hand. “I...I can’t do that to him.”

❤❤❤

He had memories of being reckless and running into battle. Of- Of the loyalty to his friends and the stab of betrayal overcoming his senses, along.. Along with the drive to kill. The drive to dig his sword through Impulse’s heart, through Grian’s, through Tango’s, it.. It was the worst feeling he had ever felt in his life, and it had completely enveloped him.

He remembered Ren crying out, asking him what he was doing. He had convinced himself he was doing it for their benefit, right? Skizz had screamed, as he ran towards the castle, he was doing it for the Red Army. For the only people who defended him. For the only people who gave him a chance. And that chance he had immediately squandered, leaving the Red Army with 1 man less the coming week and.. And leading to Skizz having to watch his friends run into a battle that all of them knew they weren’t going to be coming out of. Skizz had known that when he surged the Crastle too. This was a death game, only one person could make it out alive, and they were all resigned that they were not gonna be that lucky winner.

Skizz ran his hand over the scars around his mouth. Vertical slits where his face had torn itself open, enderman hostility Not mixing well with his human anatomy. His arms were stained black too, not that he had noticed, taken how often they had been stained with blood.

A voice that sounded like his own was talking in the back of his head, reminding him that He was the boogeyman, and reminding him of what he needed to do. Like he could forget.

❤❤❤

Tango was holding his hand, and the two of them were bolting. A swarm of reds, what used to be the southlanders, was chasing them, and their base was already compromised. There were only a few minutes left of this session, if- if the two of them could just get to safety-

“HERE! TANGO, FOLLOW ME!” Skizz let go of Tango’s hand and started digging into the wall, into the cobblestone he had used to patch up his Vent Hole from earlier today. Tango followed after him, panting, as they dug their way into the wall and closed the opening behind them.

“Th...D’ya think we’re safe here?” Tango managed between breaths. Skizz was breathing heavily too, holding his chest. It sounded like the man was about to pass out, whole body leaning onto the cave wall. “Skizz.. Woah, Skizz buddy, take some breaths. The sessions almost over I- I think we’re good.”

When Tango went to go put his hand onto Skizz’s shoulders, he jolted back, chest still heaving.

“Th.. The sessions almost over?” The words sounded incredibly pained.

“Y-Yeah. Few minutes til midnight.” “Few minutes til midnight…” Skizz stuck on the words, and then slumped down against the wall, falling into a sitting position. He was still holding his chest.

“I don’t think anyone’s been killed by the boogeyman yet, right? All the deaths have been red.”

Skizz, still slumped over, did not react to this news.

“...This’ll be the first week where the killer fails, if something doesn’t happen in the next minute..”

A pained sob was expelled from Skizz, shaking his entire body.

“S-Woah, Skizz? Are you- did you get hit? I have regen potions, are- what’s wrong?”

Skizz was shaking now, trying to not make noise as the tears ran down his face. He was failing.

“Talk to me man, use your words. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.” Tango was kneeling next to him, also on the floor now.

The tears hurt Skizz as they surged down his face.. A kind of singing burn, like his cheeks were being branded. It had been happening ever since 3rd Life ended, a side effect of the whole enderman thing. It was excruciatingly painful when he was crying big, painful, tears like now, but not as painful as his mind was. Not as painful as knowing what he had to do was.

He could hear the countdown in his own mind. Second by second it ticked by, and the letters filled his brain and his vision with large red text. It was screaming at him. He was screaming back at it, desperately trying to get it to shut up. There were other voices in his mind too, screaming and crying and tugging at him. He can’t do this, He has to do this, Why won’t he get it over with and do it already? He’s learned nothing from last season, keeping this in is just gonna make this more painful for both of them, he deserves all this pain for what he put Tango through.

He was gripping himself with both his arms now, shaking. All of his senses were screaming that he had T-60 seconds left to kill a green or yellow name.

“I.. I-” Skizz managed, voice cracking. “Yes?” “I feel like I’m gonna throw up.”

“Oh!” Tango moved away from his best friend slightly. “Uh, Here, I have a bucket. Let me pour out the water.. Here. Here you go, buddy.”

Skizz was holding the bucket now. His darkstained hands were holding on so tight, it looked like the steel might crack. Not just his hands now, it looked.. It looked like his entire arms were turning black in a veinlike pattern. Tango couldn’t see his face.

Skizz kept hold on the bucket. T-50 seconds left. He had to get on with it.

Skizz slowly moved his hands to the buckles of his chestplate, and started undoing them.

“Wh- What are you doing? Are you hot?”

Skizz pulled the chestplate over his head, and set it aside. “I-I uh Drats I just. Poured out the water. Um, I’ve got.. potio-”

“Tango. Look at me.”

Tango turned back and focused his eyes on his friend. The tears were still running down his face leaving burnmarks on his cheeks, his eyes were still covered, his.. His chestplate was off. The blackness in his veins ran across all the space his skin was visible and.. and he was shaking like an egg about to crack.

T-40. “You- you remember what you said about the boogeyman not killing yet, right?” His voice was shaky, like the words hurt to get out.

Tango’s face was frozen, and then dropped.

“Skizz.. No. NO.”

Skizz’s grip on the bucket got tighter. T-35.

“Skizz I- Skizz, you KNOW if you had just told me I would help you get a kill ri- Ok.Ok, No I’m not mad. There’s no time to get mad, I’m not mad at you, I’m just.. Skizz, you know this isn’t going to break our alliance, right? I’ve told you countless times, I trust you.”

Skizz convulsed like he was trying to hold in another sob, eyes still not meeting Tango’s.

“I’m… I’m not mad. I’ve got 4 lives left, I in no way think less of you. This was inevitable.”

T-25. “Here.” Tango took Skizz’s hands, cold and limp in his grip, and placed his Netherite Sword into his hands. They had only had enough to make a sword for Tango- of course, Skizz had found the Netherite first, but insisted it was used on his buddy.

“Do what needs to be done. I won’t think any less of you.”

Tango spread his arms out now, crouched in front of Skizz.

15.

Do what needs to be done. Skizz..Skizz needs to do what needs to be done, alright. It didn’t make it hurt any less, knowing this was what he had to do. It didn’t make him any less scared.

10.

This was the worst case scenario. Tango had the greatest chance out of all of them of living.

Skizz certainly had no chance. And he didn’t want to drag his only friend, his brother down with him. Like he had dragged the Red Army with his own selfishness.

Tango had the best chance of winning out of all of them.

His hands were shaky as he moved the sword into the correct position, inches from his heart.

Skizz was scared.

“DO IT ALREADY!” Tango yelled, arms thrown out and eyes squeezed shut.

Skizz drove the blade through his chest, piercing his heart.

Piercing his heart.

“Wh-” Tango opened his eyes, and screamed. That scream was the last thing Skizz heard before his vision went black.

“N-NO WHAT- WH NO.NONO” Tango was holding his body. “NO, N- I’VE GOT HEALING ITEMS. I’VE GOT POTIONS, OKAY? ST-STAY IN THERE BUDDY-”

Tango was frantically shifting through his inventory, holding Skizz’s corpse in his other hand.

The second his hands found his way upon an apple, lightning was heard outside the cave.

It pierced through everyone’s hearts, a shot in the air heard serverwide.

When Tango looked back to the body it was gone, the only sign left of his brother being a pile of still items.

“No. N-No. No, I- I was at gr.. No, No h..this. This has to be a dream, th- this has to be a nightmare I- I can’t.. I, I can’t……………” Tango’s voice trailed off into incomprehensible quiet sobbing. He was curled up in a pile around the items, holding close the only remainder of his friend. The only thing that he had left period, since the castle had been taken… But he would have took a thousand structures falling to keep his friend. He… He would have done anything to keep his friend. Both Skizz and him knew that.

❤❤❤

Skizz had respawned in the spruce forest. He was leaning against a tree, still weak on his feet. There was a hole in the middle of his chest, and it hadn’t stopped bleeding.

The reds weren’t gonna hurt him now, he had become one of them. A murderer, just like them.

The curse needed a green or a yellow’s life taken to be broken, and he sure had a spare yellow life.

He wasn’t gonna let his own incompetence, his own selfishness doom the fate of his friend again. Tango had the best chance of winning, and he needed to keep all 4 of those lives.

As-as a red he could help too, right? Pick off any other reds that make claims on his friend. Of.. Of course, he couldn’t speak to his friend anymore. He couldn’t see him. He couldn’t even get his stuff.

It was better this way. Tango had the greatest chance of winning, and he was only going to hinder that chance.

He took his communicator out of his pocket, hands still shaking. They were covered in red now, and the communicator’s screen was splattered with red as well.

Skizzleman was killed by Skizzleman using [YOU BET YOUR LIFE]

LDShadowLady> …

Grian> WHAT

SolidarityGaming> ?????

Skizz looked down at the screen.

Tango hadn’t typed anything.

He put the communicator back into his pocket.

This session was ending now. And the next session might be his last. But he didn’t care, his own life didn’t matter, as long as he used his corpse to lift his brother to the win.

He had learned from season 1, hadn’t he?

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jesusvsdepression-blog · 7 years

Text

A Non-Sports Person in a Very Sportive Society and Faith

A lot of times, I feel like I’m in a minority. It has nothing to do with my race or ethnicity or anything of that nature. No, I feel like a minority because of one of the most popular things in the United States, and even in the church: Sports.

Let me start by saying sports are good, with a lot of good values to teach people. Camaraderie, sportsmanship (how to win or lose well), teamwork, and a lot of other things. So don’t think I’m bashing sports or the people who play them. A good majority of my friends are athletes.

But here’s the problem I’ve encountered in my life with sports and the culture they create; if you’re not a sporty person, not necessarily an athlete, but just someone who enjoys sports, your friends will be limited.

So here’s where I’m coming from. I went to a very sporty cultured college, where I would say around 90% of the populace are involved in sports in some capacity. That includes intramurals. And that’s great! Unless you’re someone like me. Then the most interaction you get with your friends is “Hey, wanna hang out later?” “Nah I can’t man, I have practice/a game/intramural game/lifting/etc,” Which I’m not saying they should abandon their sport just to hang out with me, that would be ridiculous of me. But let's say I get to hang out with that person, we talk for a little while on the few common grounds we may have. But then that’s usually where it stops. I don’t have permission to talk about anything deeper than those common ground things because friendships can only go so far when they’re rooted in a few common grounds. I can’t connect with them when it comes to anything with sports, I don’t know anything about sports. I’m not on the team either and there’s a door there that’s only available to people on the team. Why? There’s a major common ground there that I lack. We aren’t striving toward a goal together, we aren’t striving to beat the other team or to become better athletes. We’re just people who enjoy each other's qualities to a degree and have some other lesser common ground such as maybe a favorite TV show or something of that nature.

To give you maybe a better example of what I’m talking about, let me tell you about my experiences at Buffalo Wild Wings with some friends. Everyone at the table is watching whatever big game is going on at the time, with my friends, that means basketball or football. Queue shouting at the TV because what’s-his-face isn’t doing what they think is a good idea (and they’re generally right, the dude ends up failing big time, good job what’s-your-face.) Meanwhile, I’m sitting there watching the Lexitopia game that no one at the restaurant is playing because it’s a sports bar. But good job Bdubs for trying to cater to people like me too! I appreciate it a lot actually. By the way, if you want to avoid the word moist, try the word hygric. Spell check can suck it, it’s a Greek word. My friends, naturally, think I’m weird for not watching the game at bdubs and maybe they’re right. But I try to talk to the guys at the table and generally whatever I say is drowned out because what’s-his-face is sucking at the game again. This is why I feel like I’m in the minority here, I’m a middle-class white male who doesn’t like sports. That’s not a thing and subtly, people make sure I know it.

Now let’s go into how this ties in with my faith because this feeling is still there in the church where the thing that unites us is our faith in Christ. Yet, despite that, I still feel alone in the church as well.

I’m gonna be honest with you here, I feel like the majority of men in the church know every team in just about every sport and could tell you when their favorite player last used the bathroom. They can conjure up fantasy leagues and try to destroy everyone else's with ease. But try to talk about Scripture or what you’re feeling or going through right now? The interest generally isn’t there. That’s when you get ignored. Talking about Jesus or your hurt in church? Who does that? Now hear me, guys can know all those things about sports teams and still love others well and have an incredible theology. But if the focus becomes more so on whatever what’s-his-face did or didn’t do in the game last night, there’s a problem. If that becomes our main point of connection within the church instead of Jesus and we put people who don’t know about those types of things to the side, then we have a huge problem. We’ve allowed the culture of us vs. them into the church in yet another field of life and if there’s one thing we know about the church, it’s that we don’t need any more us vs them mentalities. I want to be able to walk into a church and not have to feel awkward because I’m literally the only guy who didn’t watch whatever game was on last night. I want to actually be able to relate with other guys in some other field of life than sports. I also shouldn’t be considered less of a man because I’m not an athlete or because I have no interest in a sport.

The point of the church is supposed to be a diverse group of people who all love Jesus and love each other. A group of people who care about each other’s hurts and take on each other’s burdens. Then they take that love and care and take it to the people outside the church. It’s about time we focus on taking down walls instead of building them based on such superficial things. You may not even know you build walls like this, and chances are you don’t do it intentionally even! You’re likely someone who cares for people and likely have friends who are very different than you, but maybe that’s just me being optimistic.

If you’re still reading this, thank you for taking a minute to read my ramblings. I’m no professional writer, and I probably never will be. But thanks for taking a minute to read my heart. I know this post probably even sounds petty, and it could even be the depression talking, but I want to be a more honest person about what I’m feeling. I hope maybe we can all be little more honest with each other.

#hear my voice #jesus #depression #friendship #skeleton clique #honesty hour

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