#and i guess also | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lunarsands · 6 months

Text

ALSMP Fanfic: Mirror Tenfold, Beyond the Wall - Ch 3

Characters: Scott Major, MythicalSausage, Shubble, PearlescentMoon; featuring the return of vampire!Scott but in an alternate way, and actual!angel!Sausage but cursed; with special guests Sparrow and Rusty the Copper Golem

Tags: Canon divergent, AU, crossover between two Afterlife universes, and New Life SMP thrown in for good measure

WARNINGS: Blood, Violence, Injury, consensual blood drinking, PTSD, mentions of death

Summary: The Mysterious Force that keeps picking people up and depositing them into alternate universes comes for Myth and Smajor this time, and plunks them down near a new set of counterparts -- well, new to Smajor. Myth has met this other version of himself once before, in a place called Sanctuary. At least now there's someone with ten times the number of powers to keep Smajor in check, right?

The vampire returns but he’s not going to want a taste of this type of angel blood.

Follows after the events of Thou, O Kings, Fair Be You All - Part Eight of the Soul Liminality Series | Part Four of the Reality Entanglement Series

(Also available on Ao3!)

[ Chapter One ] [ Chapter Two ]

---

Chapter Three

Sausage howled as he wrenched away. Myth went stock-still, continuing to hold the sword out but eyes wide as it registered to him what had just happened. He hadn’t even seen Sausage appear. The superhero clutched his arm as ichor began to seep between his fingers. “Yow!! What is that sword made of?!”

Still stunned, Myth stammered, “It – It’s because of your angel powers.”

Shubble ran over, Smajor’s face still held in one hand, but she removed the other long enough to shove Myth. “What did you do that for?! We never said anything about killing Scott!”

The cursed angel stumbled, but regained his balance and scowled back at her. She glowered in return; he put his arms down, signaling he wasn’t about to challenge her new appearance and revealed ability.

Smajor took the opportunity to flex his own night-granted strength and yanked at Shubble’s hand until he could get a glimpse of Sausage before she covered his eyes again; her hand landed above his mouth this time, so it was easier for him to say, “Him, too?! What in the Nether is going on here?! What, is this world connected to that limbo dimension, or something?! Why does everyone have extra powers? And why is everyone always luckier than us?!”

Scott dusted himself off as he joined the group. “I wouldn’t call this lucky. Or, maybe…” He turned to Sausage and lifted the superhero’s hand away from his injury, then placed his own hand over it. There were a few seconds where their breath was visible in the air, then Scott let go and stepped back. The wound had been effectively cauterized by his frost ability. “…Maybe I should feel lucky that Sausage here usually pulls his punches and isn’t really out to stake me through the heart.”

He then turned to Myth. “You would have, though. I could sense it.” He glanced to where the cursed angel’s sword was now lowered in uncertainty. Then he gave a sigh that seemed exaggerated, and he shrugged. “But it looks like the good guys won this time. I guess there’s only one thing left to do to continue protecting the world. Right, Sausage?”

He met the eyes of the rival he had just helped heal. Sausage gave a nod, then Scott snapped his gaze back to Myth.

The cursed angel felt his body be rendered immobile again, with tunnel vision causing him to be drawn into that unwavering gaze. Scott then began to duck down, going invisible but holding his stare in place this time. He wasn't fleeing. Myth attempted to shift his eyes in order to see how Sausage and Shubble were reacting, but… they hadn't moved. And not in the immobilized way that he was. They were waiting for something…

The attack came from the opposite side of where he had last seen Scott – a punch that numbed his wrist and made him lose his grip on his sword. Scott was visible afterward as he caught it when it dropped. He winced at the sting from the hilt. "Sausage!" he called out, then tossed the sword–

Genuinely tossed it, not thrown as if he had intended to strike the superhero with it–

Sausage fielded the catch with a wince of his own, then his eyes began to glitter from blue to white to an even paler blue, and back to white, continuing to do so as he brought up his other hand to pinch the edge of the blade with all five fingers.

The red sheen went dull, then flakes of brown and ashen black rained down off of it. It fully crumbled starting at the point on downward until the pommel disintegrated in Sausage's hand. His eyes then returned to normal. He gave a full-bodied shiver, then wiped his hand off on his hip. "And that takes care of that! Sheesh! You were going too far! Not every 'Scott' in the multiverse is like yours! Mygod."

Scott released Myth from his stare and calmly walked backward to stand next to Sausage – yet keeping watch on Myth just in case, holding out the possibility of being immobilized a third time.

Meanwhile, Smajor tugged at Shubble's hand again. "So, what was that about? Can't you at least tell me what's going on if you won't let me see for myself?"

Scott was the one to reply, "That was me having heard and seen enough to know you two are the greater danger around here. Tell me, fledgling, what were your actual plans if I managed to take down this unstoppable force of vengeance standing before us? We just unarmed him, but I can tell by his eyes that he's weighing his options."

Myth flared his wings, only to fold them all in tightly, then he sat down on the ground, placing his hands flat at the end of his thighs to show he had no intention of doing what Scott was implying. "You know your angel lore. Superhero over there didn't seem to consider that when he butted in the first time I met him."

Scott smiled sardonically. "It has been an interest of mine to study the machinations of the celestial realms, particularly angels. Your type is rare, but infamous. You're holding back, too. But maybe that's just a Sausage-esque trait."

Myth squeezed his knees. "I'm going to pretend I have no idea what you're talking about. Look, we had no say in coming here. All I wanted was to find him and drag him back home. You were the one foolish enough to turn him."

Scott shrugged. "I admit I was curious to see what might happen. Would this world make him exactly like me? Or would there be a different effect? It doesn't work on anyone like us or on the villagers. At first it seemed like it could be fun to see if Sausage wouldn't be able to tell us apart. But your version was obviously weaker."

"Hey!" Smajor protested. "You could have told me what these two were like!"

Scott uttered a brief chuckle. "Sorry. I thought it in my best interest to keep that information to myself."

Myth shifted to stand up, but when Scott's gaze instantly fell right back onto him – demeanor changing from calm to stern – the cursed angel resumed sitting. "Could I bother you lot to douse him in holy water, tie him up, and blindfold him to keep him from escaping? I know a way to get home – or at least a way to leave this dimension and put us where we won't be a threat to you anymore."

Sausage spoke up, "Oh, yeah, that Ancient City portal that you mentioned!"

"Yes," Myth said flatly, "Astute of you to remember."

Now it was Smajor’s turn to chuckle. "Oh, yes, let's do that again! I'll just follow our original path of destruction and find the way out! And you'll have to deal with finding me all over again, because we got separated when we entered last time, too!"

Myth scoffed. "Except I know exactly where the exit is, and can fly high enough to get there faster. I'll destroy all of the portals before you can reach them."

Smajor replied slyly, "But you would be dooming anyone from other worlds who stumbled in to be stuck there with us. That would be incredibly cruel of you, if what you really only want is to lock away you and me. But hey! That would give me plenty of enrichment, now that I have powers again!"

Myth scowled and mentally sank into himself for a moment, his gaze sliding to the side as he tried to think of a retort.

"So…" Shubble posited, "Does that mean we should go around destroying those Ancient City portals, so no one here accidentally enters one?"

"Maybe,” Sausage suggested, “We could just put up signs. Because destroying them all, um, is going to take a while, heh."

"Oh, definitely," Shubble agreed. "And I know where one city is, but there is a lot of Deep Dark out there. And what if someone with sculkborn powers decides to live in one of them? What if they don't want the, uh, ambience of the portal ruined? It would be pretty rude to do that– Ow! Hey!"

She abruptly yanked her hand away from Smajor’s face, because he had just driven his bottom fangs into the underside of her palm. He quickly contorted himself to get a proper bite on her other arm, causing her to loosen her hold. He slipped free, spitting – or coughing – out puffs of dark smoke as he started to run. Myth jumped to his feet and spread his wings to leap after him.

There was a crackle from overhead. Sausage raised one hand, but it wasn't lightning that hit the ground at Smajor’s feet – it was a concentrated funnel of holy fire, glowing nearly as bright as the lightning would have, but with slivers of white flame coming off of it.

Smajor cried out in sheer terror. He fell to his knees and hunched over, covering his head with his hands. They could hear him whimpering as Sausage dismissed the holy fire. While Myth went to retrieve Smajor, Sausage turned to Shubble. “Are you alright??”

Shubble rubbed her hand. “Yeah. All he got was a mouthful of shadowstuff. I mean, it hurt, but he wasn’t going to be able to do lasting damage.”

Sausage smiled at her, then gazed pensively toward where Myth was hauling Smajor back to the group. The defeated vampire kept his head lowered and seemed to walk along with an air of resignation.

A sound like the reversed shattering of glass caught everyone’s attention. Across the open space from where they stood, a rectangular portal with a frame made of crying obsidian appeared, its interior obscured by teal and turquoise swirls – or possibly flames. To either side of the portal were two multi-headed sunflowers, with each individual flower being a different color in the range of yellow, orange, or red.

"Huh," Sausage declared, "It looks like… you've got some help in getting home, without involving limbo dimensions."

"Seems so," Myth replied tersely. “Judging by that color, we’re heading back into our own sculk-infested depths. Fine by me.” He pulled Smajor along as he strode unwavering toward the portal.

Smajor uttered a disappointed whine. “Not by me. I don’t want to see you half-covered in a sculk infection again. You’re horrifying enough to look at already. Also, you might as well let me walk on my own. I know when I’ve lost. Again. I’ll be a good little prisoner and go ahead of you.”

“How about the same time?” Myth insisted, keeping Smajor right next to him as he stopped in front of the portal. He narrowed his eyes at the sunflowers, a bitter frown forming on his face. He spared a glance at the trio who still stood where he had left them. “Thank you for the help. I’d say you owe me a cursed sword, but I hope we never meet again.”

“Good bye!” Shubble called. “Good luck with your dark and brooding world-protecting!”

“Goodbye!” Sausage echoed, just as cheerful. “Sorry about the sword, but hopefully you’ll find a better way to be a guardian!” He waved, smiling broadly – then, as the two turned to face the inside of the portal, he zipped over in a blink and pushed them in.

As the teleport magic wrapped around their forms, he hauled around to the side and gave a mighty punch to a section of the frame, breaking the portal. He continued to pummel it; the ground trembled from the reverberation of the force being unleashed, until the frame was reduced to rubble.

The sunflowers had taken a few hits from flying debris but still stood. Sausage gave them a weary smile and a nod of thanks, then dusted off his hands as he walked back over to his friends.

Scott let out a relieved sigh, while Shubble grumbled, “You could have left something for me to shulk smash.” Then she sighed, too. “Well, that was intense! Hey, so—” She turned to Scott. “You called him unstoppable, but he seemed chill after you guys got rid of his sword. You made it sound like he still had a weapon.”

“If he had wanted to,” Scott explained, “He could have made quick work of all three of us by using that stuff on his wings. He can change the chemical properties of it – from harmless, if not icky, to corrosive. Even your invulnerability and Sausage’s durability wouldn’t prevent damage, but especially when applied to a weapon.”

“Oh yeah,” Sausage remarked, “He did melt through that guy’s magic bracer in the other world where I met him!”

Scott raised an eyebrow in interest. “I haven’t heard about this. I’d invite you in to tell me more, but, well. Vampire things have been going on. Maybe your place would be better.”

“Maybe neutral ground,” Shubble countered, her tone distrustful. “You sided with us this time, but how do we know you’re not just trying to lull us into a false sense of security, or something?!”

Sausage lightly squeezed her arm – the one that hadn’t been bitten. “Take it easy, Shub. I think we all got a lesson from this in villainy gone too far. But maybe we should chat right here – we can sit on the porch. It’s a long story, so you can hop inside if the sun starts to come up.” He tilted his head at Scott to acknowledge his weakness. “I don’t think there’s a comfortable spot in Heaven’s Reach for you to sleep away the day. No coffins laying around.”

“Fair point.” Scott’s confident demeanor slipped into awkwardness. “Look, Sausage… I know I got carried away at the beginning by taking your wings, and I’ve been an unashamed menace plenty of times, but I’ve never actually killed anyone, like those two. The villagers were fine after they recovered from a few bites, right? And, well…” He trailed off, not quite ready to say what else was on his mind.

Sausage put his hands on his hips. “Heh. I was wondering why you didn’t use your stare on Myth for long. Probably would have brought up some memories, huh?”

“Yeah…” Scott admitted. “He was also a lot more intimidating than you, though, even when you were in full angel-mode.” He softly cleared his throat. “Anyway, I think to reach a truce, I should say… Well, every hero needs a villain, so I thought I would give you one, just to go along with the fun you seemed to be having by fashioning yourself into a superhero.” He gave a genuine smile, his fangs withdrawn into regular, flat teeth. “I might consider switching to favor a different power so I can join your team for a while. We have a lot of Deep Dark to investigate, after all. One of my other powers might work better for that.”

Sausage grinned at him, then put out a hand to grasp Scott’s in comradery. Shubble shrank back to her usual size and added a smaller, shadowy hand over theirs.

~*~

Myth instinctively spread his wings out behind him as he felt a strange jolt go through the magic-infused air. Something had happened to change the teleportation. His next impulse was to grab Smajor with a tighter hold, but in the next instant he felt the other be torn away from his grasp. Myth swore and tried to peer through the swirling teal flames to try to spot him.

He had to squeeze his eyes shut a moment later as the flames changed to bright yellow. He could feel them growing hotter, as if they had changed into regular fire. As they licked at his feathers, he heard the sound of ichor sizzling. He relaxed his face while keeping his eyes closed. This is it. This is the fires of hell claiming me at last.

He was at peace with that. He held his arms out at his sides in surrender, allowing the fire to consume him. Whatever Smajor’s fate was did not concern him any longer. It was time to answer for his obsession with revenge.

When the sound of sizzling stopped it was replaced with the sound of a completed teleport. Myth peeked one eye open, then gawked. He was looking out through purple swirls at a taiga forest. He hastily stepped forward so he wouldn’t be snatched away again – to truly be dumped in the Deep Dark, but when he looked over his shoulder, he saw a regular Nether portal. He then stared, dumbfounded, for another reason. He had only one pair of wings now, and they were orange. A quick pat around the back of his head to check for his smaller upper wings to be sure ended up revealing that he now had longer hair.

Much longer hair. He pulled several strands forward and saw an orange ombre cascade to it, to where it was fiery-red at the tips. He looked around his body and found a smattering of small yellow-orange feathers here and there – some on his chest poking past the torn trim of his surcoat, a few laying against his elbows. He touched his face; the horizontal scars were still there, but their ridges felt less obtrusive. So, he hadn’t been completely remade, just… reborn.

Reborn through fire.

For a moment he pondered this turn of events and what it might mean for what he now was, if he was no longer a cursed angel – which should have been the end of the line.

Well, if a new world could grant Smajor abilities again regardless of the method, a new one could change him, too.

That meant he had best start finding out where he was, and who had built all of the things he could see nestled among the trees. He glanced up and carefully turned around to take in the complexity of the copper sphere that housed the Nether portal. When he looked at the rest of his surroundings afterward, the main feature in common seemed to be windmills. He caught the sound of clanking coming from one of the buildings. There was active machinery somewhere.

This was definitely someone’s home, and was still in use.

Myth spread his wings and gave a test flap. It felt a little strange to have only one pair, but the wingspan at least felt familiar. He launched off the copper sphere and flew in a small circuit to take in the lay of the land.

Motion by the door of what was likely the main house caught his eye. He cautiously glided down to perhaps find out more about this interesting new place.

At first Myth went on guard when he saw white hair, but the person’s tanned skin and even movements spoke against this being Smajor. They wore some type of short brown jacket with a furred collar over what might have been a jumpsuit, and had practical boots. They looked startled as he landed a meter away.

Which was a reasonable reaction.

“H–Hi there?” the person stammered. They squinted at him. “S–Sausage? Is that you? Uh – oh! Um, sorry for wandering into your house, you’ve been gone a while and I needed a couple of supplies for a project I’m trying to finish right away. I was short a few things and figured I could pay you back – you know, replace what I borrowed before you got back, or just give it to you when you returned.”

Myth decided to feign ignorance, and tried to make his voice sound less gruff. “Who is ‘Sausage’? I just got here. I kind of rose from the ashes of my previous life and I’m still getting my bearings.”

The person blinked at him. “Interesting. That might explain where he went… I didn’t know hybrids had a chance of losing memories between lives. …That’s something to add to my notes. Um, sooo, I’m Sparrow, and Sausage was a ghast mage who built up all the steam-powered machinery around here. I’m dabbling in building machines, too, and I knew he had plenty of resources stocked up, so I came to borrow some.”

Myth now attempted a curious tone as well as a little humor. “Is it borrowing if you’re using it for parts of something? I can’t imagine you would give back those specific pieces.”

Sparrow shot him an amused smile. “How very literal of you. By the way, do you mind if I ask what you are? Aside from very orange, which is a nice color.”

“I think… a phoenix. It really did feel like I was being reborn inside some flames. Can I ask what your powers are?”

“Oh, I don’t currently have any! I’m just a human who happened upon this place when my airplane cra—when I landed here due to running low on fuel. My plane is fine, I can take off again any time, really, I’m just very interested in exploring the land of the hybrids.” Sparrow then grinned. “I’m hoping to find a way to become like you hybrids somehow. I have some ideas.”

Myth grimaced internally, unable to avoid being reminded of Smajor. “Be careful what you wish for. You wouldn’t want powers that make things, well, unpleasant.”

“I’m taking the scientific approach, and also studying all the hybrids I meet, so I think I’ll have an idea about the potential dangers ahead. Maybe you and I could even talk more another time – if you happen to remember more stuff.”

“We could,” Myth replied, feeling a little guarded again. “I might, um… I might hang around here for a while, have a look at those machines you mentioned so that I can learn more, too. And if that Sausage guy shows up, I could talk with him, and… find out why we apparently look alike.”

Sparrow gave a sympathetic look. “Yeah, I hope you figure that out. If you do see him, tell him Sparrow said hi! Maybe I’ll look a bit different next time I see him, as well.”

“Take care,” Myth replied, somewhat hoping he sounded sincere. “And… try to be careful.” He watched Sparrow walk down to a small open-sided building with a pillar in the center that was topped by what looked like a purple enderpearl. Sparrow put their hand on the pillar, then disappeared in a flurry of particles.

“Huh. Some kind of local teleport device,” Myth reasoned out loud. He would take a closer look at it later. For now, he ventured into the house. A tidy kitchen that was absent of life greeted him, along with the sound of clanking from upstairs.

A slightly quieter, equally rhythmic clanking came around the corner, and a small copper construct with a bobbing antenna on top of its head looked up at him. A slightly-resonating robotic voice declared, "What’s wrong with you?!"

Myth took a step back. "Excuse me? You can… talk?"

"That’s an odd thing to say."

"Oh, you probably think I'm that Sausage guy, too."

"Are you sure about this?"

Myth stared down at the copper construct. "But you said something was ‘wrong’ with me, so I thought that meant you mistook me for him. Do you… have some kind of sensors, or instincts, for dangers like iron golems? I suppose that could make you a copper golem."

"That's an odd thing to say."

"Oh. You're broken. I guess that was bound to happen with your owner missing."

"What did you say?"

Myth sighed. "I don't know anything about machines, so I can't even offer to try to fix you. Look, if you can actually understand me, I'm going to lay low here until the guy who belongs here shows up so I can have a chat with him, and avoid mistaken identities. If you're in enough working order, maybe you can help me figure out what all the stuff around here is. I just… want to see if I can manage to live a normal life. Because, somehow, I've been given a third chance to try again."

The little copper golem's antenna bobbed up and down, then it said, "Are you sure about this?"

There was enough of a change in its tone for Myth to realize it hadn't been speaking like a broken record the entire time. "...Yes, I'm sure."

"Okay."

~*~

Over the next two weeks Myth managed to settle into his new surroundings. He found some new, if still somewhat ragged clothes that could withstand the little bursts of healing flames that he occasionally emitted. He studied the equipment in the buildings, slowly learning how everything worked by tinkering around and following notes left by the previous occupant. This also led him to find out the copper golem was named Rusty.

All of it helped take his mind off the fact that other visitors continued to assume he was the Sausage they knew – which he went along with by taking personality cues from the other versions of himself that he had met in the other worlds – and the fact that he had yet to have a run-in with that Sausage… or the other person who should have arrived here through the mystery portal.

He hadn’t gone down to the Deep Dark to look for an Ancient City portal yet; he was too weary to wonder if Smajor had escaped that way and was possibly now terrorizing a different world. Perhaps that meant Myth had completely failed his duty, but thinking about it only led to him zoning out, even while holding a wrench about to adjust something on one of the machines.

Rusty broke him out of it by wandering up and inquiring quietly, “What’s wrong with you?”

Myth blinked and looked down at him sadly. “Just thinking about my previous lives. I made some… choices that could have been handled differently. I can’t go back and change them now.”

“Okay.”

“Except I don’t know if I would have done things differently. I didn’t see the point in acting any different. That was the fate I was handed, what was I supposed to do about it?”

“That’s an odd thing to say.”

“Yes, well, it was all very complicated and I think probably beyond what you can process.”

“Okay.”

“I’m sure you don’t have any concepts of destiny rattling around in that metallic head of yours. I would tell you about it, but I should stop thinking about it, anyway.”

“Yes.”

Myth uttered a humorless chuckle. “You’re right. Let’s get back to fixing the input on this thing and get that windmill working faster.”

A little later on in the day he went out for a fly around as a habitual patrol to check everything before he took the evening off from tinkering. He spotted something unusual beside the barn and glided down to look closer. There was now a line of mycelium beside the barn wall, peppered with red and brown mushrooms, one of which had already grown taller than the rest. He was puzzling over how it had gotten there when he heard a noise from around the corner – where the mycelium seemed to be leading to.

It sounded like someone trying to stifle a laugh. Myth bolted around the corner, his feathers bristling and small flickers of flame jumping off his body. It was a chillingly familiar laugh, but maybe it wasn’t the person that the dread in his heart was assuming it to be. It could just be this world’s—

The hair was white and eyes red, although a darker shade than he had last seen. A red mushroom cap was atop their head, and they wore the trappings of someone who could be a practitioner of nature magic, right down to the flower-bedecked mossy shawl and the satchel at their hip where a multitude of mushrooms could be seen threatening to spill out.

But Myth recognized what lurked within those eyes, and the smug twist to the smile revealed they knew exactly who he was. His voice dropped to its former gruffness. “So, you did make it through, too.”

“Sure did,” Smajor replied in a sprightly tone. “But please, relax. I’m immune to fire, anyway. And I’m peaceful now! Because whenever I attack anything, Gaia or whoever takes my mana away as punishment, which could kill me if I lose enough of it, and I really like these powers! I’ve become one with nature again! Or at least with mushrooms.”

Myth narrowed his eyes. “If you try to throw spores at me, I can still incinerate those. Do you want to relive the time when I was a blazeborn?”

Smajor flicked his hand up and down in a shooing motion. “No, no. Honestly, I would have stayed far away from you, knowing your disposition. I only came here to talk, because we have a mutual problem.”

Myth folded his arms over his chest. “And that would be?”

“People keep mistaking me for this world’s Scott, saying they haven’t seen him in a while, and they’re happy to see ‘I’m’ okay. Well, aside from the mushroom presents I’ve left them, but that’s all in good fun! Aren’t my babies cute?” He leaned over to pat one of the small red mushrooms on the tip of its cap, causing it to abruptly grow taller. He grinned at the effect, then continued, “I’ve played along, because it’s been nice to not have anyone breathing down my neck. But I started to wonder: where did he go? And, if you also ended up here, where did your double go? Maybe we need to solve this little mystery – before anyone finds out we’re imposters.”

Myth stared at him, his brow slowly furrowing into a scowl. “No.” He turned and started to walk away.

“Hey – wait!” Smajor refrained from grabbing his arm, but hurried after him. “You’ve seen what happens when we’re at odds with our doubles – you had to have noticed that overpowered hero pushed us into the portal. Maybe we can avoid things like that this time?”

Myth kept walking. “I want nothing to do with you anymore. You’re not luring me away from the first scrap of peace I’ve had since meeting you.”

“I swear that’s not what I’m trying to do! What about this: everyone has been saying their Scott was a – a teleporter, or something, but still accepted me right away, as if it was normal that I don’t have the same hair or eye color as the last time they saw him. Has that happened to you? Did anyone mention Sausage was something else when they first saw you?”

Myth stopped short, the question hitting home as it made him recall how Sparrow had said they knew a ghast mage version. “Yes. Doesn’t change my mind. Go. Away.” He resumed walking.

“Hey, I’m trying to look out for you, too! Give me a chance! If you don’t want to trust me one hundred percent, fine, but I can’t exactly tell anyone about this, and—”

“—And you can’t fight off the hostile mobs because you’ll lose your mana or whatever. So, you need me to do the fighting.”

Smajor was now the one to abruptly halt. “U-Uh, I mean, yes I need a hand with possible danger, but the plan is to do some careful investigating first and try to track them down without rushing into—”

“’Track them down,’ huh?” Myth glanced back at him with an accusing glare.

“You know what I mean!”

“Yes. I know exactly what you mean. Get lost.”

“Come on! I like this new life, too! Give me a chance,” Smajor pleaded again.

“Maybe go find them by yourself, and do something that could be considered worth redeeming you for once. If you and both of them come back alive, maybe I’ll think about giving that chance. If they are the only ones to come back, at least I can finally rest easy. You never know what the temperament of either of them will be. Maybe they don’t like mushrooms.” Myth smirked.

Smajor scowled back at him, yet within his eyes was a… hurt look. “Fine, then. I’ll do it alone. I’ll prove it to you that… that I really am tired of all the death. I let the thought of having powers again go to my head in the last world. I’ve learned my lesson this time. I swear.”

“Swear on what? Your hundred-and-five lives? Your brief second life as a vampire? This new one? ON MINE?” Myth glowered at him, then crossed his arms again. “I’ll believe it when I see it. If you had gotten ten powers at once in the last one, you would have decimated me the instant you had a chance. We can pretend to be a part of this world all we want, but we’re both still the same on the inside. Now, I’ll only say it one more time: GO. AWAY.” He spun on his heel with finality to walk off.

Smajor clenched his fists, then yelled after him, “It–It’s your fault, you know! M-Maybe I wouldn’t have been so hungry to get powers again if you hadn’t completely taken mine away!”

Myth flared his wings wide, small bursts of flame shooting off of them. Despite his proclaimed immunity, Smajor cowered and backed up. Myth glared at him over his shoulder.

Smajor found his nerve again. “Y-You don’t know what it’s like! Waking up one day and feeling nothing. No unique energy in your veins or any connections to the natural world dancing through your brain!”

“But I do know,” Myth growled, pivoting to face him and stomping toward him, looming tall, making Smajor retreat a few more steps. “That’s how I felt, after months of you draining my blood, locked away from the open sky and light of day. You get what you give. Don’t you dare try to convince me to sympathize with you now!”

Smajor averted his eyes for a moment, then rustled up a scowl. “Well, you don’t know what it’s like to start out life as a tiny, delicate bug, and then suddenly become stronger than you’ve ever felt before, and able to do more than you could have dreamed of in your tiny little life! It was intoxicating!”

“So, you’re saying the power went to your head the first time, too? And you decided to lord that power over me? I had no quarrel with you as a mothling!”

“You… were a light I couldn’t ignore,” Smajor grumbled. “And then you were a beacon of brightness disrupting the glorious darkness, and I was driven to blot that out.”

“You made a choice,” Myth snapped. “And now so am I.”

“Do you at least have any clues that you’ve found? I’ve got a possible lead, but anything would—”

“NO.” Myth emitted spits of flame again. “Get off my land, or else I swear—”

A new, cheerful voice piped up, “Having a little argument, are you, boys?”

Myth twisted around with a shocked expression as he recognized the voice. He hadn’t heard it in such a very, very long time. Only Smajor heard his weak whisper of, “P-Pearl?”

They both then looked down incredulously at the chipper figure resembling a copper golem who approached them. “Hey, Scott! Hey, Sausage! Sparrow said something about you losing your memory of being a ghast. How are you feeling now? Anything come back to you yet? I might have something that could jog your memory.”

“I – um – no,” Myth stammered. His fury had been defused by her arrival. “We were, uh, just disagreeing on a matter of memories, actually. Scott was about to leave anyway, so… Um… W-We can talk if you want, Pearl.”

“Oh, perfect!” she exclaimed. “See you around, mushroom man! And don’t go putting any more mycelium close to my wheat field! I need that for mud bricks.”

Smajor sketched a bow. “Oh, I’ve placed down all that I needed to get my boost when I visit! If it happens to spread, it isn’t my doing! Must be Gaia’s will! Bye for now!”

Myth couldn’t help himself from throwing one last annoyed look in Smajor’s wake, but it softened to reluctance as he looked down at Pearl. “So, uh, what do you have to show me?”

“Is there a flat wall around here without any vines on it? I’ve got a photo to show you.”

“Photo…?” Myth peered around at the nearby buildings, then simply moved closer to the barn and reached up to pull some of the greenery off to make room. “Is… that enough space?”

“You silly sausage. You didn’t need to ruin your lovely decorations.”

Myth glanced at the cluster of vines and blossoms in his hands, then said absently, “They’ll… grow back.”

“All right. Now, let me see if I can get this to display properly.” Pearl hopped upward a few times, trying to stick a picture frame onto the wall. “Gosh. I keep forgetting how difficult it can be to do things when everyone else has built things so tall. Give me a hand?”

Myth hesitated, then lifted her and held her up to where she could reach a higher spot on the wall. The frame stuck in place as she intended, then she took something else from pocketspace and whacked it onto the frame, where it spread to fill four times the space of the frame itself. Myth stepped back and carefully put Pearl down.

“There! See! It’s us, from when you were a ghast mage! Look at your bland umbrella! You always had to go running from the rain, because ghasts aren’t waterproof. I don’t do well in water, either, so we both stayed away from it. I think I heard phoenixes can stand water better, so if you haven’t been in the rain since changing, it wouldn’t have brought up that memory.”

Myth gazed at the version of him from this world. The ghast mage wasn’t quite smiling, but there was something about the photo that conveyed the sense he was happy to have Pearl beside him. “I’m… sorry, Pearl. It’s… It’s not reminding me of anything. I… don’t remember when this was.”

Pearl patted his leg. “It’s okay, buddy. We’ll sort out what happened to you in time. It’s just nice to have you back.”

“Y-Yeah…” Myth’s voice broke. “Th-Thanks, Pearl. I’m – um – I’m going to get back to a thing I was working on. Need to, uh, have a mining session, too. Sparrow borrowed some stuff from me and hasn’t paid me back yet, so I’m just going to get more myself.”

“Do you want me to come along? I’ve got great radar for finding ores!”

“Maybe next time. I need to think about some things Sm-mushroom,” he quickly amended, then forced out an awkward laugh. “Sorry, that’s all he makes me think of now. Things Scott said, so I won’t be very conversational.”

“Okay. Well, holler if you need me! And grab me some copper while you’re mining. I can always use more!” She scurried off, leaving the photo behind.

“I’ll see what I can find. Bye, Pearl,” he called after her, then whispered, “Someday I’ll see you again, Pearl. I’m sorry if I let you down…”

~End~

---

[Post-A/N: Will Smajor find the supposedly-missing original Scott and Sausage of the New Life world? Will Myth change his mind and help him? And what will they do if the truth is revealed, exposing them for who they really are? … I don’t know yet, I only thought of these questions as I wrote the ending :D I’ll leave this open-ended for now, since ideas keep coming up when I’m working on other WIPs!]

---

[Post-Post A/N: An anon on tumblr asked what Myth’s Pearl would think of his descent into becoming cursed, and I had to ponder the answer since the full “goddess and her favored angel” dynamic was more like a cameo in Witherrise and hadn’t been a big part of the story until the Soul Liminality 2 version came along. So, here’s a tiny glimpse into his current feelings about that!]

#alsmp #alsmp fanfic #mythicalsausage #scott smajor #shubble #pearlescentmoon #new life sparrow #dangthatsalongname #owengejuicetv #soul liminality #x10variant #and I guess also #nlsmp fanfic #lunar yarns

3 notes · View notes