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peakdeer · 2 years

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Evermoore Rejects - Chapter 2

It's. It's finally done! This has taken so much longer than it should have taken to write. I. kinda gave up towards the end because I hate dialogue and because I just wanted this chapter to be done.

But we don't talk about that!

I'm excited for the next chapter because it starts with my favorite scene so far <3

“Well, first things first: we need new boots.” Sausage declared, holding one foot tentatively above the mud as if that would prevent it from getting further covered. “Fair. Leather was not made for mud. At all.” Shelby grumbled, trying to shake the mud off of her boots.

“Well, first things first: we need new boots.” Sausage declared, holding one foot tentatively above the mud as if that would prevent it from getting further covered.

“Fair. Leather was not made for mud. At all.” Shelby grumbled, trying to shake the mud off of her boots. “If I was better at magic, I could make these repel mud, maybe.” She raised her head to glance around the Evermoore. It certainly didn’t look like a proper place for a resident witch-in-training, much less two of them. It was foggy and infested with vines from the crowded mangrove trees, and the croaking of toads and the swishing of the vines did little to sway her opinion of the place.

Shelby’s attention was drawn away as Sausage waved his hand around in a circle a few times. For what purpose, Shelby was unaware. Perhaps he was warding off bad spirits? It wasn’t until a blue wisp of light finally settled in his palm that she realized he’d been attempting to summon a light, with very little success. Sausage looked at the orb with a curious expression, elatedly surprised as if he hadn’t expected that to work, Shelby realized with a pang of sympathy. She knew how it felt to try so hard and fail so miserably.

“That’s a good idea,” Shelby commented. “We’ll need light to get around here. It’s… very packed.” She winced, already picturing the work they’d have to do. “We should probably start clearing some of these vines away, at least so that we have a little clearing to build a shelter in.”

“You’re right,” Sausage grumbled. “This is going to be miserable. Amethyst clusters, I wish I could magic them away.” Despite his complaints, he obediently began pulling at the vines before immediately turning to Shelby, now with a noticeable rash on his hand. “Okay, that was stupid. I don’t know why I did that,” He remarked bashfully, rubbing his hand off on his brown leggings. “I don’t suppose you have shears or something to cut them with?”

“I do, actually,” Shelby observed, perking up. She reached into her bag and pulled out two identical pairs of gardening shears, passing one to her amused partner. “Don’t laugh; I like plants. I had a garden back home, and I had all kinds of plants in it, and they loved me,” She huffed.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Sausage shrugged, eyes glittering mischievously. “Can’t really judge, I used to talk to animals. And by ‘used to’, I mean I haven’t explained my entire life story to an animal in at least three days. Which, coincidentally, is how long we were in that train. Those statements also have nothing to do with each other, I don’t know what you mean.”

Shelby laughed, playfully smacking his back. “Well, there are plenty of toads to talk to once we clear up these vines!”

They began slowly and painfully chopping away the vines. The only relief from the monotony was the arrival of a messenger owl and Sausage’s mildly amusing fall from the vines when he was spooked by a raven. The messenger owl carried a message declaring that they were invited to the annual meeting of the empires and other establishments nearby that took place on the following morning. According to the letter, there were seven stationary empires, a new empire not even a moon old, and perhaps another empire on the rise. Of course there was also Shelby and Sausage, which was surprising- they had only arrived this morning! Shelby didn’t think too hard on it, though. The witch academy had likely informed the empires of their purpose. There also appeared to be a historian, who attended to chronicle the events, and… keep the empires from killing each other? That was… concerning. Shelby resolutely put it out of her mind, refusing to worry about it right now. She’d worry about it later.

The sun rose until it was at its highest peak, before slowly beginning its descent when they finally finished. Shelby stepped back, wiping the sweat off her brow with her sleeve before surveying their work. It wasn’t much, but there was enough space for a basic shelter for now. She turned to Sausage to congratulate him on their work, immediately bursting into laughter. While Shelby’s outfit was mostly clean except for her boots, Sausage was nearly coated in the mud due to his many trips and stumbles.

“Oh, shush,” He complained good-naturedly. “In my defense, it’s very easy to trip here.”

Wiping a tear from her eye, Shelby joked, “Well, I’m just as clumsy, and my outfit is clean.”

Sausage gasped dramatically, leaning back and bringing a hand above his heart. “I’ve been wounded! Betrayed! By my very own-“ His protests devolved into incomprehensible shrieking as he fell backwards into the mud. Shelby’s laughter tripled, so much so that she had to rest her hand on a nearby tree to prevent herself from falling over.

“I don’t know if I can defend myself against that one,” He jested sheepishly. “Help a poor, unfortunate soul get up?” He asked hopefully, extending his hand up towards Shelby.

“Oh, so I can get mud on my sleeves?” She quipped, accepting his hand and pulling him up. He looked surprised, as if he hadn’t expected her to help him.

“Oh! Thanks,” He said, standing there awkwardly as if he didn’t know how to react to acts of kindness. Which, now that Shelby thought about it, was entirely likely. And Shelby really should have pointed it out, and they should have a discussion about that, but she really didn’t want to do that now.

And besides, they needed a house.

“We might have an issue,” She pressed on, ignoring the other issue that needed her attention in favor of the more practical one. “We don’t have a house. And we don’t have our hats or wands yet, so we won’t be able to make anything large. But maybe we could enchant up a house if we work together? Because I don’t think we can build a house before nightfall.”

“Yes, that’s a good idea… how would we do that though?” He asked, and that. That was a valid question.

“Weeeeee… grow it?” Shelby suggested, plucking a low-hanging propagule from the trees. “We could- like- imbue it with magic? Somehow? And we could grow it into a house?”

Sausage tilted his head, considering it. “Yeah, that’s not a bad idea. Certainly wouldn’t hurt to try.” He took a step closer to her, squinting down at the propagule. “So just- enchant it? Ask it to grow into a house and see if it works?”

“That’s the idea.” Shelby closed her eyes, focusing on the propagule in her hand. She squeezed her eyes shut as much as she could, imaging the propagule expanding into a reasonable-sized house. She felt a electric tingle move from her hand to the propagule, mildly unpleasant without a wand to channel the energy.

“Well- it did something,” Sausage noticed optimistically. Shelby opened her eyes quickly, disappointed to realize that it looked the exact same. “It kind of glowed a bit and emitted teal sparkles,” He explained, picking up on the disappointment in her face.

“Here, you try,” Shelby suggested, thrusting the propagule into his hand. He blinked down at it for a moment before scrunching his nose up. To Shelby’s annoyance, the propagule responded faster to his magic, or at least it seemed that way to her. It crackled, a blue to gold fade with hints of red electricity swarming around it. Sausage yelped, dropping the propagule and waving his arm erratically. Shelby sprang to scoop up the propagule before it fell, glancing up at Sausage.

“Are you alright?” She worried, catching ahold of his arm. It didn’t appear to be injured, but Shelby was a witch, not a medic.

“M’fine,” He assured her through gritted teeth. “Just shocked myself. It’s like stubbing a toe; shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, but gosh it’s painful-“ He took a few more breaths through his teeth before his arm relaxed and he pulled it back to his side.

Shelby nodded in acknowledgement before planting the propagule in the center of the clearing. “Did it work?” Sausage inquired, peeking over her shoulder. They stared at it for a few minutes, as if expecting it to grow into a house immediately.

But it appeared that they weren’t good enough at magic for that, if it even worked at all. Shelby stood up from her crouched position, reflexively dusting off her overalls even though there was no dust for them to collect. “We’ll have to see when we come back.”

“Come back?” Sausage questioned, a perplexed expression spreading across his face. “Where are we going?”

“Oh!” Shelby realized, looking towards the tree she’d tucked the letter in with a start. “I forgot to show it to you. The messenger owl brought us a letter! We were invited to a meeting of the nearby empires and such.” She brought the letter out and handed it to him as she explained. “It takes place tomorrow morning, and we’re quite a ways away, so I figured we should grab our travel bags and head out.”

“Alright, but first of all- I am not going out in this. It’s covered in mud, absolutely caked in it! The remains of my ego will not survive,” He grieved, gesturing to his practically ruined clothes.

Shelby began laughing again at his bedraggled appearance. “That’s fair. Do you think you can magic yourself up some new clothes or should I try? If all else fails we could find a town and trade for some new clothes,” She suggested.

“Probably?” Sausage guessed, holding his arm out and squinting at it. “Maybe something more appropriate for the Evermoore. I’ll be honest- while I look absolutely stunning in a corset, it does not work for mud.”

After several hilarious attempts, and some successes— and by ‘successes’, Shelby meant he managed to turn his outfit into something worse—he ended with a nice outfit that would serve him a bit better in the swamp. It was similar to Shelby’s— plain green overalls over a nice cream shirt (which wouldn’t last long here, especially with how clumsy Sausage was) with a band of leather around the waist that included silver buckles and pockets for storage. He also managed to conjure up a new pair of leather gloves and a pair of sturdier leather boots. Sausage hummed, surveying the new outfit. “Well, it’s certainly better than that clown monstrosity of an outfit I conjured up,” He remarked approvingly.

“It sure is,” Shelby agreed, patting his shoulder with a chuckle. “Success, finally! We should probably start heading out now,” She suggested, worried eyes glancing at how low the sun had fallen. “We can try to conjure up a tent to sleep in when we stop. Knowing our luck, we’ll end up with a mud hole.”

Luckily, they did not end up with a mud hole. Unfortunately, it was certainly not a tent. It was more of a basket, a mess of poles and wool that was at least functional, even if it was very ugly. They also managed to conjure it away, so that was good! They had enough food in their packs for the walk to spawn and back, so all they had to worry about was getting there.

Around midday, they found an area that looked similar to the place described in the letter. There were twelve standing areas, which Sausage found odd. No chairs? He didn’t think about it long, though.

His attention was immediately drawn to the other emperors. According to the letter, there were the seven stationary empires—Animalia, Dawn, Glimmergrove, Chromia, Tumbletown, the Goblands, and Stratos. Recently, the Eversea had risen into empire status along with the rising empire of the newest emperor. Standing next to these emperors, he felt quite plain. At least some of them weren’t overdressed or overly handsome my gosh.

There was a curious lady who had pink hair—a look she pulled off quite well. It was paired with a navy blue jacket and a white blouse with ruffled sleeves. To complete the look, she wore a matching pair of navy boots that looked very soft but would most definitely not survive rough terrain. She had sky-blue eyes that were filled with mischievous intent. She appeared to be from Animalia, since she was standing in the dedicated seat for ‘the mayor of Critter City’. Something about her was odd, but Sausage couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

There was also a pretty woman who looked so much like his sister he almost had a heart attack. Then again, her face was less… harsh, than his sister’s face. This new acquaintance had a softly rounded face with emerald eyes full of delight and wonder for the world they were living in. His sister’s face was more drawn, with dark circles under her green eyes that never truly seemed to go away, always busy with magic and study and anything practical. She had a pair of gorgeous monarch butterfly wings that flitted open as she talked to her neighbors. She wore a lovely gold leaf tiara that complemented her fire orange hair and her very ruffled sunset pink dress. She had dark brown leather shoulder pads and sturdy-looking boots as well as a leather string around her waist as a belt. She had a gold band on her thigh, an interesting fashion choice. Judging by her color scheme, she was clearly from Dawn.

The third lady wore a pink ballet-like dress, the stereotypical dress for all princesses everywhere. It was accompanied by plain pink hair clips and a soft and impractical-looking pair of pink boots. Despite this, she looked quite fierce, as if she could handle anything that came her way. Her muscles were quite impressive, especially once you compared them to Sausage’s noodle arms. He squinted at the plaque on the platform she stood on, which read ‘Glimmergrove’. So that was where she was from.

The next was a very handsome man who stood a head taller than Sausage, with a swab of bright blue hair. He looked to have heterochromia, a teal and a gold eye peering playfully out from his face. He had a plain white undershirt, a modest pair of dark gray pants, and golden brown laced leather boots, but that was where his normality ended. His jacket was a hodge-podge of colors that clashed terribly and had no right to be that bright. It would have looked terrible on anyone else, but this strange man pulled it off. The man was clearly from Chromia, there could be no doubt about it. He just hoped that the other members of that empire had better fashion sense.

Next to him stood a man who was clearly from Tumbletown, based on his whole Wild West getup. He had a dusty white smock paired with gray-blue jeans and tall cowboy boots that were quite sturdy looking. He had a belt with a gold buckle that connected to the leather straps that went over his shoulders. A bright blue bandana hung around his neck and what appeared to be a sheriff badge gleamed above his heart. He had pretty blond hair and dark brown eyes, and was scowling at his neighbor, which was mildly hilarious considering the height difference.

The last three were clearly identified with their respective empires. The tall god who the sheriff had been arguing with had to be from Stratos, for example. He wore a gleaming white toga pinned at his shoulder with some kind of green gem for color alongside a green belt and trim woven of fine silk. A crown of fresh green leaves wrapped around his head like a laurel, accentuating the green streak in his brown hair. His hair and bushy beard were neatly trimmed and looked as if they had been subjected to an abundance of hair gel to keep it in place. He had a fancy and rather confusing pair of leather sandals that was more decorative than anything. A pair of leather armbands completed the look. It was rather annoying to have to look up at the god, and Sausage disliked him immediately.

The other emperor must be the Gobland ruler, whose height reached peak comedic effect when you compared it to the god standing next to him. He had olive-green skin and very large ears studded with several gold earrings. His hair was a muted orange, woven in with dust and debris that he had evidently not bothered to shake out. His eyes were a slightly brighter blue that the stormy sky color of his trousers and the sleeves of his vest. The rest of his vest was a vibrant red with gold fringes made of actual gold. He had a gray belt with a simple silver buckle that appeared to be polished religiously based on how shiny it was. Really, all of the metals he wore looked as if they were shined regularly. He even had gold kneecap coverings and gold edging on his pitch black boots.

The final emperor standing there must be from the Eversea, with his black cap and red and white striped shirt. His black cap, though appearing to have a skull at first, appeared to have a white bunny on it, for some curious reason. It looked familiar, though. The pirate had leather shorts with thin leather straps that wrapped over his shoulders and connected to the shorts with gold buckles. His hair was a dirty blonde color and his eyes were the aquamarine of a tropical cove. He jested with his neighbor, who appeared to be the historian mentioned in the letter.

While the historian’s dark blue smock and plain brown pants were quite simple, they at least looked good. It fit for someone who wasn’t trying to stand out, which, he presumed, the historian was. He had fingerless gloves and dark brown leather boots. He had an explorers hat perched jauntily upon his head, similar in fashion to those worn on safaris. While his outfit was not an attention-grabber, the man himself was an absolute beauty. He had an easy grin that would make any schoolgirl swoon, and his rough and calloused hands just screamed to be held gently. He silently cursed whatever deity had decided to make this man so pretty.

Sausage and Shelby approached the circle of emperors nervously, drawing closer to the other in an attempt to draw comfort from their presence, shoulders bumping with every step. Despite the fact that there were two places for them to stand, they crowded onto the same platform, one foot on and one foot still on the ground. They must have looked ridiculous, but it was oddly comforting. As if saying that they were one empire, that they were allies, that they were friends.

And they would stand together.

The final emperor came running up, hair disheveled and expression mildly panicked. She took her place on her platform, glancing around nervously. Her hair was blond, brighter and more yellow than he’d seen on any other person. She had a torn and dirtied green jacket covering her red and white striped shirt, which was in slightly better shape. Even the ends of her leather pants and her leather gloves were torn-up, clearly needing a replacement. She had a belt that was in fairly good condition, though the gold buckle might need to be replaced with something more durable. She had a broken pair of goggles on a thin thread wrapped around her wrist. She tapped her fingers nervously on her calf, clearly not too happy to be here. Her platform had no plaque and looked hastily constructed. Sausage almost immediately looked down to check their platform, before he realized how much of a fool he’d look doing that.

The other emperors turned, distracted from their bickering and conversation. They greeted them cheerfully, with grins and smiles that made Sausage dizzy trying to grasp their intentions. He’d never been smiled at by this many people before, so genuinely. This couldn’t be real, couldn’t be normal. What did they want? Sausage smiled faintly, trying to placate the blurring faces.

A bump to his shoulder from Shelby drew him back to the faces, which were beginning to look concerned. “Yeah, just arrived yesterday,” Shelby chirped in response to a question Sausage had not heard. “We’re quite tired!” The faces relaxed a bit, and it was then that Sausage realized he’d had a small panic attack, and Shelby was covering for him.

“Mhm! We spent yesterday clearing away the vines,” He added, finally erasing the concern from their faces. He mostly succeeded in wrangling his facial expressions back into something that looked like a smile.

“Ah, must’ve been difficult,” The sister-look alike commented. A few others chimed in with sympathetic comments.

They soon called the meeting to order, discussing trade agreements and alliances and the like.

The meeting passed in a blur, all of it too much and too confusing but dangerously enticing. He shouldn’t trust them, shouldn’t believe that they had good intentions.

But he wanted to. So, so badly.

“So now we go to war?” The goblin— Fwhip, that was his name— joked. Or at least he thought it was a joke. He hoped it was a joke. The other empires laughed, punching shoulders and saying their goodbyes as they turned to leave. Sausage would like to meet them again sometime, to talk to them more and befriend some of them.

But not today. Today, he was going home.

He and Shelby turned, shoulders bumping and very nearly tripping over each other. Their eyes were set on the far-away swamp that they could almost see at the edges of their vision. With a shared grin and laughter, they set off running toward the distant land of the Evermoore.

#mythicalsausage #shubble #empires smp #empires smp s2 #evermoore au #can you tell I got really tired and gave up towards the end?#I hate dialogue #I'm so bad at it #in real life as well as in writing

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