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archetypal-archivist · 3 years

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Tommyinnit and Hermitcraft- Heartstone P.2

So, a little while back I wrote piece titled Tommyinnit and Hermitcraft- Heartstone (linked here) which was inspired by the works of @petrichormeraki and @redorich, who popularized the AU of Tommyinnit from the Dream SMP getting dropped into Hermitcraft somehow and summarily getting adopted by the entire server. I, in my infinite wisdom, decided “yes, but also angst” and spat out a solid 1500+ words with a cliffhanger at the end because it was getting ridiculous and I had yet more to write. This is another 1500+ words of continuation.

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It's not easy, knowing things. Joe knows more things than most, and oh, how it eats at him sometimes. He jokes with Cleo that between the two of them and their dogs, they are perhaps the leading experts on being chewed on, but she never laughs at that joke. He can't help but wonder why, his thoughts drifting as he lies still and silent in her arms, curled up together on his bed in the winery. Her orange hair tickles his nose as he moves to bury his face in her shoulder a bit more, her cool breath ghosting over the sticky tear tracks that still line his cheeks. All the things that remain unsaid lie between them, but their silent agreement binds them together tighter still. And indeed silence is the name of the game, however much he wishes it wasn't necessary- everything will work out in due time, he knows. But oh, how it aches that he can't say anything more on the matter, not even to her.

"Cleo?" The zombie woman makes a soft inquiring noise, politely ignoring how his voice cracks on the syllables. "Are we doing the right thing?" Her grip tightens again, almost crushingly so, and Joe goes limp at the implied rebuke. Be it right or wrong, his silence must be ensured- he knows so much that if he said anything, it'd all come pouring out. A real modern-day Cassandra, verbal fountain and harbinger of doom in one. No, best to stay cryptic when he can and silent when he can't- and if even his silence fails, Cleo is there, sword in hand, ready to keep him quiet.

He should not take comfort from that. But here, wrapped up in his best friend's embrace, utterly at her mercy and all the safer for it... He does anyway.

-----

Joe and Cleo aren't in a romantic relationship, but it would not be amiss to call them platonic life partners in this universe. Joe has been seeing things for as long as he can remember, the exact mechanics are strange and baffling at best, and if he tries to actually do any Science to figure out how this stuff works, the magic changes to spite him. It's led to a lot of unfortunate visions of peanut butter and how the server generally tends to misuse the stuff (Etho sometimes using it instead of slime in a sticky piston is a milder example), so after enough peanut visions to make him allergic on principle, Joe tends to just let the visions come as they may. The only hard-coded bit that comes with them is that anyone living who hears his prophecies won't believe them and will have something bad happen to them as a result. Cleo, being a zombie, is a special exception to the rule. She's only alive in the most technical of senses, so while bad things still happen to her if she hears Joe speak about his experiences, she at least will believe him.

Which is why she is so determined to not know more about whatever is going on with Tommy. When Joe had rushed in a month ago, tears streaming down his cheeks and glasses barely hanging onto his face, she had merely put down the book she had been reading and had opened her arms wide to him. Convincing him that she would not betray his trust or break his heart had been hard, but she had known it was worth it. How can it be anything but, when Joe had looked at her then as if she was the most precious being on the planet and had immediately thrown himself into her arms, bursting out into troubled tears? He offered to tell her the full story, eyes wet and longing, and her long-dead heart ached at the trust he is giving her- but she is far too selfish to give that up. So she had turned him down, smile on her lips.

Even when he whispered, voice hoarse, that they wouldn't be seeing Tommy for a while. Even when he shuddered and shook in her arms, fragile as glass in her grip. Even when he begged her to ask, just ask, please, it's too much... She did not ask. If she asked, he would tell her, and then she would be hurt and his heart would break because it would be his words that had hurt her. She would not, cannot, will never inflict that upon him, or let him inflict that upon anyone else. (Of all the heads in her collection, the one she has most of is Joe's.)

She simply asks him if there will be a satisfying ending, and when he says yes, she asks no more. Everything will be okay, in the end. So long as there is that much, so long as she has Joe in her arms and the comfortable silence stretches out between them, then she will be content.

(At the foot of their bed, deep in Joe's winery where the barking is muffled and the light cannot touch them, there lies a chest of heads. Inside it, nestled among the many faces of the dead, rests an old iron sword bearing the name Hush. It's blade is rusty from disuse, but if Cleo ever decides that she isn't satisfied, well. There are ways of dealing with that.)

(Things will be okay. She'll make sure of it.)

-----

Philza was no stranger to death. A veteran of a hardcore world, where even the very earth was out to kill him, he had seen his fair share of deaths and had dealt out even more. Usually just to the local mobs and wildlife, but there was still the occasional player dropped into his world by the cruel hands of the Void as a sort of "apology" for leaving him alone, bereft of his sons. As if some random strangers could ever fill the Void in his heart.

Most of them had wandered off upon seeing him, more interested in escape than any companionship he could offer them, and he'd inevitably see their death messages in the otherwise silent chat a few days later. Others would approach him, some curious, some desperate for kindness- he gave them none, was often intentionally cruel just to drive them away. He had the Void in his heart and the Void had him, and he ached and ached for what he could not have. Anything less would be a pale imitation, a mockery of the love he was desperate to return to. He tried not to think about how those kind strangers would also come to meet their ends, often more messily than those that had decided to leave him be to begin with.

Then there were the rare few with... less than gentle intentions. (Blood for the Blood gods, no matter the universe.)

Theirs were the deaths he regretted the least, but the blood still gave him nightmares. For all that he loved his sons, he never understood their love for glory, be it found in conquering other nations or the sticky ooze of a dying foe. Maybe that's why he had spent so much of his time with his elder sons when he returned, the Void finally releasing him from his hardcore prison. Just a father's attempt at understanding, even if it left his youngest at loose ends.

But the problem with loose ends, he had come to find, is that the world had a way of setting them to rights- either by tying them back into the grand narrative, or by cutting them out entirely. For months after Dream had come to him, apology on his lips and charred shoe in hand, he had believed that Tommy's fate had been the latter. He had mourned his son as if such was the case, weeping openly at the news for the first time in years. (He wasn't the only one, though- Technoblade was an only child now and he was not taking it well.) It was only when Tubbo came to him with his compass to ask about its ever-spinning needle that he felt a spark of hope, for a compass that spun was not a compass linked to a dead soul- simply a lost one. Such hope was justified when, six months later, Technoblade burst into his house with a snarl on his lips and a smile in his eyes. Tommy had returned.

And as Phil stood, back straightening and wings spread wide, hope bloomed in his chest like hanahaki, choking him with love right down to his core. Tommy had returned, despite everything.

And Philza would not let him go again.

-----

For all that Tommy might have been... gone for at least a month now on the Hermitcraft server and life has significantly slowed down for all involved, by no means has it stopped entirely. The shops are still stocked, the torches are replaced when the old ones burn out, Hermits still go out and see each other, if less often than before. Xisuma, in fact, instates a series of mandatory meetings every week or so as a way of making sure that everyone is still alive- a bit of reassurance that no one else has died in the time interim. Even the hermits who prefer to keep to themselves show up, such as Tinfoilchef, Joe, and Cleo, although the latter two remain distinctly separate from everyone else on the server during the meetings, their refusal to take a side alienating them from the rest. Grian, broken though he may be, also comes, usually in the arms of Iskall or with a vacant smile on his face depending on the state of his mental health on the given day. His presence is also alienating, as most of the hermits don't quite know what to say around him and thus will give him and Iskall a bubble of space to themselves during the meetings. Mumbo is the only one to cross the divide, standing loomingly tall at Iskall's back, as if daring anyone to say something potentially hurtful to either of his friends.

Frankly, the entire concept of weekly meetings is a bit of a mess. Xisuma stands at the front with Keralis at his back, voice and posture more and more tired with every meeting and Keralis standing just a bit closer, a silent show of support (ready if his admin ever needs some physical support too). The prognosis is usually a mix of dull stuff and hopeless stuff- lag is better than it has been in years, the Chestmonster shop is out again, Tommy still has not been... found. It's not exciting exactly, but the tension during the reporting stage is palpable as everyone waits to hear if something else has gone wrong. It's a bit like being on the front lines- horrible, drawn-out minutes of tedium as everyone holds their breath, waiting to see if another bombshell will drop but knowing that they have to be there, because some warning is infinitely better than seeing a death message in chat one day and not knowing if that person will ever make it back.

In addition to this is the tension that comes from the server being split in three- the believers, the mourners, and those too damaged or too caught up in their own narratives or too neutral to swing to one side or the other.

The meetings are where the most near-fights happen, and Xisuma is so, so tired of having to be the sane one these days. (The benefit of a helmet, he's come to find, is that no one can see you cry.)

(He doesn't take it off much anymore.)

-----

It's after one such meeting that Zedaph finds himself cooped up in his base, eyes burning with unshed tears and feet dangling out into the Void as he sits at the bottom of the hole in his base, the one that goes straight to bedrock and then even further still. The chill is a welcome distraction from his own inner turmoil, and for all that it's dangerous to be sitting so near to the edge of the world, he can't find it in himself to move away form its cold comfort. After all, Tommy can't have died permanently, right? So sitting there is perfectly safe. He has to believe that. He has to.

The meetings are tough on everyone, but sometimes Zedaph wonders if they are a bit worse for him than they are for the rest. It can't be normal that the first thing he does after every meeting is burst into panicked tears as soon as he gets back to his base, as he's certainly never felt such deep fear and relief after the meetings they had before the Incident. And yet, as soon as the iron door of his base sncks shut behind him, he drops down into the Void hole, sits at the edge, and bawls his eyes out. It's kinda funny- he's shed more tears in the last month than he has in his entire life so far. And all for a boy he had known for less than a year.

During this particular day, however, something odd happens. When he sits down for a good cry, it feels like there's the slightest of breezes coming off the Void beneath his feet, chilling him right down to his bones. It's cold, yes, but a welcome relief as he feels a bit like he's burning up from the inside out. Every moment he spends with Tango and Impulse is stifling, as with them he has to shove himself into a hateful mold he never wanted for himself. He doesn't like being angry, and being angry alongside his best friends is hardly any better. If he had it his way, he would have curled up in bed and simply slept the horror away, only waking when the nightmare was over and he could go play mini golf and Among Us with Tango, Impulse, and Tommy again. Instead, his love for his friends demands that he supports them in all their endeavors, even if their goals these days seem to run a little closer to "get them all killed" than is comfortable.

But yes. The breeze. It feels like ice on his skin and sends every nerve in his legs buzzing. It has a distinct smell to it too, like TV static, ozone, and that sensation you get after you brush your teeth and go take a big gulp of cold water. It's... odd. But vaguely comforting. And as the tears finally well up in his eyes and drip down his cheeks, as he lets himself sob for all the friends- both new and old- he's lost, he finds that it's exactly what he needs.

And if Zedaph would only listen a little closer, let himself see beyond his broken heart, perhaps he would hear the whisper on the wind, too.

Everything will be okay. I'll make sure of it.

-----

Evil X has his own troubles to deal with. He had been present when Tommy had died, if watching from the wrong side of their dimension. Lost in the Void with nothing better to do, he had often found himself watching his friend go about his day. With space and time being as screwy as they were in the Void, he could find himself taking three steps and then would be watching Tommy go from sleeping over at BDub's base to having "breakfast" with Rendog. So when Grian and Tommy had gone out End-busting that fateful day, of course he had been watching. And that was all he could do- watch- as he saw his best friend fall to his apparent death, that little line of code that signaled "perma-death" flashing once, twice, and then glowing a deep, ominous red.

But that wasn't the end of it, even as his dull and bruised heart stuttered in his chest at the sight.

Like a redstone pulse lighting up everything around it, that red glow set off a cascading chain reaction that rippled up and down Tommy's code until it eventually trailed out to wherever his code stretched out into the Void. There, it must have severed something because before he could even call for help, his friend's code yanked inwards and away, slingshotting the whole mess into the distant darkness beyond, leaving naught but a vague impression on the inside of his eyelids behind. It was... awful. One of the scariest things he had ever seen, perhaps second only to watching his brother, stern-faced and cold, send him off to the Void once again. But for all that it hurt to see that red glow and watch in mute horror as the server he had once tried to destroy shake itself apart at the seams, there was still hope.

The code was gone, yes, but not unraveled, not destroyed. Merely... transported. Moved. Like a file being sent from one computer to another, or a player teleporting between servers. Tommy's code vanishing like that was cause for alarm, yes, but somewhere out there in the vastness of the Void, it lingered still- and it had left a faint impression of itself in its wake. That meant there was hope.

Evil X- and by proxy, his twin Xisuma- were voidwalkers, beings specifically designed to see, understand, and even modify the world's code. Were he anything else, he surely would have perished by now, his consciousness scattered across the Void as it was. And having been in exile for so long, he had gotten to be adept at seeing the seams between worlds and reading the truths of existence as the Void had intended for her children. If anyone could follow that faint trail, could get Tommy back, it would be him.

For the first time in a long time, Evil X had hope. And hope is a vicious motivator indeed.

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TBC :)

#fanfiction #my writing #minecraft #dream smp #hermitcraft #hermit tommy au #heartstone #i'm pretty pleased with this

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votederpycausemufins · 3 years

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Welp, it’s finally ready. I’ve started writing for the Scattered au by @hermitcraftheadcanons and their community. I didn’t find them until after it was made, so I couldn’t shove my ideas in there and while I’m in the discord, it’s a little overwhelming for me in there.

so next best option is to just write what I want to write. I’ve already got the first two chapters prepped and ideas for after that, but I’ll take suggestions on who people want to see next. (Especially from @helleborusangel for they give me so much in the way of rambles and I want to give back to them.)

The name of the story is Hermitcraft Season Beta 1.17, so look out for the masterpost with that title.

Welcome to Season Error

When he first spawned into the world, Xisuma was a bit confused. He couldn’t see anything. Everything should have been set up correctly. There was nothing at spawn and it should be day. Looking up, the admin can’t even see any stars. He went to tap his helmet and check on the world information when he heard an odd noise. It sounded like a sculk.

In researching the new biomes and creatures, he had grown familiar with the sound, and he was sure the hermits would find them before long, hearing it first thing into the world should have been impossible. Still, Xisuma took another step and heard the noise again, this time catching the bioluminescence of the sculk.

The admin was confused even more, before using the light to look at his surroundings, having to take a few steps to keep the creature lit. All around him was stone, specifically deepslate. That meant he had to be close to y-0, which made no sense.

Again, Xisuma reached for some buttons on his helmet, ready to sort things out, but a growl stopped him in his tracks, keeping him frozen in place. A warden. The admin could barely breathe as he strained to look in the pitch black. His helmet was helping ever so slightly, but it was still extremely dark. He carefully stepped away from the sculk, sneaking so as to not alert it. Netherite was barely enough to face this thing and he had nothing. He needed to get as far away from the monster as possible and try to find a way higher into the cave, hopefully not needing to mine.

Xisuma heard another sound from the warden and froze again. It sounded closer this time. His mind raced slightly in panic, starting to get a message ready to send to the other hermits, when he saw some messages in the chat.

ZombieCleo slain by Iron Golem

MumboJumbo slain by Vindicator

FalseSymmetry drowned

ImpulseSV drowned

StressMonster drowned

Docm77 hit the ground too hard

MumboJumbo slain by Vindicator

ImpulseSV slain by Guardian

FalseSymmetry drowned

StressMonster drowned

MumboJumbo slain by Vindicator

GoodtimeswithScar fell out of the world

ImpulseSV drowned while trying to escape Guardian

Though he was still quiet, Xisuma took a step back in shock at the messages. He wasn’t the only one who came through, and he wasn’t the only one in a bad situation. What had- He stepped back and yelled in surprise as his foot was caught. He had forgotten about sculk jaws.

The admin managed to free his foot, but then he was slammed into a wall. He was hanging on at half a heart, not sure how he survived the blow. He tried some of the buttons on his helmet for emergencies, but it just sparked, broken from the impact. Before he could even take another breath, he was killed, respawning behind the warden since he hadn’t gone far in the first place.

Xisuma tried the buttons again, only to find the helmet still broken even after respawning. That didn’t make sense. It should have been- he ducked at the last moment, dodging the fist of the warden. Not having anything else to do, Xisuma ran. He knew there was no way he could outrun the monster, but at the very least, he could lead it away from his spawn.

Another death, and it seemed to have worked. The warden was far enough away that it didn’t notice him. Taking what little time he had, Xisuma pulled up chat to find more death messages, and at the very least, a few advancements from hermits who hadn’t died. He quickly put in a message and sent it, only to get an error. The message had failed to send. At the very least, that explained why none of the hermits were asking questions in chat.

Xisuma’s next option was to use admin commands that weren’t linked to the damaged part of his helmet, but that wasn’t working either. Theoretically, it should, but since the admin was essentially blind, for all he knew, the damage was much worse. At the very least, it was still functioning enough for him to breathe. It also let him access chat, but right now, that seemed less of a blessing than a curse.

And then the warden found and killed him again.

“Alright! Welcome to your new first season of Hermitcraft!” Grian said happily, gesturing to the land in front of him. Except, there wasn’t much land there. “Wait, I thought we were spawning in the plains.”

The avian hermit looked around. There were no plains in sight. There weren’t even any grass or trees. He was just on the top of a mountain, all alone. Well, he wasn’t completely alone. “Dad? Why are we on a mountain?”

Grian looked down, Grum and Jrum looking up at him. Originally the plan was to leave the two of them behind to look over the old world, but Grian couldn’t take it, so he and Mumbo gave the robots their own reasonably sized bodies. They took a day to go over everything with the bots, well, two because they needed to comfort Grum when he learned the past few months of his life had been a lie. But after that, they were ready to all move to season eight.

“I don’t know. This doesn’t make sense. Let me just-” He cut himself off, pulling out his communicator and seeing the death messages starting to fill up the chat. His eyes focused on the message of Mumbo being killed by a vindicator. That made no sense, but neither did spawning almost alone on top of a mountain. Grian tried to message something in chat, but it didn’t work.

The avian pulled a hand away and breathed into it to warm it up before switching hands to warm the other. He may have been wearing a sweater, but against cold like this, it wasn’t the best. “Okay, it looks like something went wrong. Your daddy seems to be at a woodland mansion, Cleo’s at a village, Impulse in a sea temple. I think Scar’s in the end or something and Xisuma’s dealing with a warden. Doc’s somewhere high, False and Stress are underwater…” A new message came in. “And TFC is fighting the Ender Dragon.”

“Does that mean we’re stuck up here?” Jrum spoke up, sounding concerned.

“Uh, no, of course not.” Grian smiled to reassure the bots. “You two can stand the cold much longer than I can since you’re robots, but I can just g-glide down. I’ll just g-grab some wood and b-be right back.”

The avian put his comm away and rubbed his arms for a bit of warmth before jumping off the edge. He let his wings open up and ignored the sting from moving them. He was just about to the cloud layer, ready to look for trees, when his wings suddenly stiffened up painfully. Grian yelled in pain, glancing back to see ice crystals that had formed on his wings. In fact, they were still forming. They matted his feathers, keeping them from catching the air as well as making him heavier.

Grian looked back down. He just needed to make it to the ground safely. He could last that long, right? Once he was down, he would get everything sorted and help the bots down. Then they would figure things out. It was going to work. It had to work.

And then he was falling.

Grian respawned back on the top of the mountain. Before the bots could say anything, he jumped again. He was so close before, but now that he had respawned, he could make it this time. Because now his wings were- still frozen over. Instead of gliding, Grian immediately dropped like a rock, once again killing himself from the fall.

“Dad? What happened? Are you okay?” Grum asked. Grian didn’t respond, just pulling the bots into a hug. It was a stupid idea, the metal of their bodies sapping what heat he had, but right now, he was too distraught to care. They were stuck, and there was nothing they could do.

Grian tried to ignore the damage he was taking from the cold. At the very least, he would just respawn there again. He knew where everyone was, or at least a number of people, from their death messages. He would just die a few times and people would know where to look. But the bots. The bots would have to watch that. They would have to watch him die over and over until who knows when help would come. But there wasn’t any other choice. He felt as his life slowly drained, recognizing he was on two hearts, then one and a half, then one, then just half. Grian closed his eyes, ready for his death.

His eyes shot open, glowing purple. His health was suddenly fully restored and fire appeared in his palm, warming him and the bots. But just as soon as it happened, it was gone, Grian slowly freezing once more. He couldn’t die, but he couldn’t actually survive. They were stuck, and it was worse than he thought.

Impulse entered the new world and tried to take a breath, only for water to fill his lungs. In shock, he looked around and saw the familiar sights of a sea temple. He panicked and tried swimming, lungs burning from the salt water filling them. He swam out of the room he spawned in, hoping and praying to find a way out. Spots started filling the edges of his vision, but Impulse just kicked harder. He just needed to find a way out and-

He drowned, respawning in the same place. Part of Impulse was hoping it was a fluke and upon dying, he would respawn at spawn, able to jokingly tell people he found the first sea temple. But he was back underwater, and this time, there was a guardian in the room with him. It killed him once, then a second time. Before it could try a third time, he swam out of the room, cutting its vision off from him. He had less health this time, but he needed to find a way out. There had to be a way out.

His lungs were burning again and the guardian shot at him. It hit him once, leaving him with barely any health, and then drowning finished the job. He respawned in the same place, though the guardian was absent this time. He tried punching at the wall, hoping just maybe he could break through the block before dying again. But it was tougher underwater, not to mention every minute, the elder guardian would lay its curse on him.

So breaking out didn’t work, so he tried swimming again. Trying every path, hoping to find a way out. But the best he could manage was finding one of the elder guardians. After that, he gave up. There was no escape. With nothing left to do, he finally pulled out his communicator and saw others were in a similar situation. There was just death. Even Xisuma was stuck. And if Xisuma couldn’t keep from dying, there was no hope for him.

“Okay. Real funny guys.” Scar rolled his eyes, having spawned on an end island. “Did we have to start with this?”

There was no one around, so Scar just huffed and walked to the edge of the island. “Alright, let’s just get this over with.” And he jumped into the inky abyss. For just a fraction of a moment, he thought he heard someone yell, but then he respawned and found himself back on the island. “Ohhh no. This is not good at all.”

Scar looked around. There were no islands close enough for him to jump to, and he had nothing to bridge across with or use to get materials for a bridge. Then, to add insult to injury, he could see an end city, sitting in a place he couldn’t reach.

Scar grumbled. Obviously something went wrong, so he would just need to wait for it to be fixed. At the very least, while his island was small, it wasn’t a miniature one, so there was chorus fruit growing there. He pulled off a branch and watched fruit fall from the plant, glad for something to eat. At the very least, it would grow back as long as he didn’t take the full thing. And maybe if he got lucky, it would somehow grow into a bridge.

That being said, if he was really lucky; eating some chorus fruit would take him to another island. He tried to hope for the fruit to be wizard fruit, since that teleported much better than regular chorus fruit. But no, he was just taken to another part of the island, stuck all by himself.

Sighing, he flopped down on the island and looked up into what substituted as a sky there. After a while, he sat up suddenly, thinking he heard someone, but carefully looking around, all he saw were enderman, well, at least he saw their legs.

Scar sighed again and looked back up at the ‘sky’. At the very least he wouldn’t starve. And maybe if he got lucky, he could eventually get over to another island. And since there was an end city nearby, he wasn’t completely hopeless for gear. Sure, some things might have curses, but at this point, something was better than nothing.

Scar suddenly regretted looking up at the sky as an enderman walked into his line of sight. In a panic, Scar ran to hide somewhere, only to not find anywhere to hide, there being no cover in the island. With no gear, it only took a few hits before he was respawning. This time Scar made sure to look at the ground, lying on his front this time. And this time, as he rested there, he could swear there was some whispering from nearby.

Mumbo didn’t expect to spawn in a pile of wool when entering season eight. He didn’t think he was late to moving to the new season, but he supposed he could be wrong. It was also dark instead of morning, so perhaps he was just late. He got up, surprised to see the wool was shaped in the imitation of a bed, but not actually making a bed. There weren’t any torches around, but there was a window, which showed it was actually day outside.

Confused even more, Mumbo started to walk out of the room. “Hello? Anyone here?” He called out, and then almost immediately got an answer as an axe chopped into him, killing him almost instantly. Mumbo respawned, back on the makeshift bed. The vindicator that just killed him was outside the room, so it didn’t see him immediately, so he still had some time to think. He was in the middle of a woodland mansion, all alone. That made no sense, they would never choose a new world that would spawn them there. And by the window of the room, it didn’t even look like he was on the first floor.

Mumbo paled. He wasn’t even on the first floor. He needed to get through the illagers alive and somehow find the stairs down to the first floor and hope to void he wasn’t on the third floor. He went to pull out his communicator to send a distress message, but then the vindicator wandered in again and killed him.

With the room he was spawning in no longer being safe, Mumbo immediately started running as he respawned. He ran through the halls, trying to remember his way while also not dying. He dodged a zombie and turned a corner, only to freeze as he met eyes with an evoker. It started to cast a spell and he immediately backed up, only to find the vindicator that had been chasing him kill him once more with its axe.

Respawning, he tried another path, but this one was filled with vindicators. One hit him, and he was surprised to still be alive, but then he was trapped between two more and killed. Maybe since he knew about the evoker this time, he could take that first path, so Mumbo went that way instead.

He ran down, dodging the zombie again as well as the vindicator from before and ignoring the evoker. He kept running, getting hit once, but still alive. And then he got further, only to reach a dead end with two zombies standing there. Between the monsters, Mumbo found himself killed by another vindicator, spawning back on the faux bed.

This time, nothing was in the spawning room, so Mumbo pulled out his communicator, only to see messages from other hermits dying. He sent one asking for help, but only got an error. He had no way to contact anyone, and based on the messages, everyone was in similar situations to him. That meant all he could do was run and hope to get out.

Putting his comm away, Mumbo tried again. He tried the second path, turning the corner, dodging a new evoker. His eyes widened in excitement as his eyes landed on the stairs. He quickly raced down them, glad to see the exit right there at the bottom. He would be fine. He could escape. He could- get shot by a skeleton that happened to have a punch bow. It pushed him back into the mansion and into yet another vindicator.

Grumbling, Mumbo tried yet again, only to find the vindicator at the exit. Fine, now he would have to lead them away and try again. So he did. Only to find them on the stairs and killing him again. Another attempt had him out the front door, but the place was surrounded by water. He wasn’t able to swim away fast enough when a vex came from out of nowhere and killed him, leaving him frustrated. So he tried again. And again. And again. He respawned again, only to find an Evoker in his spawning room, and Mumbo gave up to the death loop.

Etho appeared in the new world with plans for the season already in his mind. His feet touched down in the plains of the large starting island. From here, he could see the even bigger island that they were planning to use as the main district with the first one getting converted to an initial spawn area.

Looking around, he was a little surprised to only see Joe and Beef with him at spawn. His first thought was that maybe there was a delay, but then his communicator buzzed with a message. Joe and Beef didn’t have theirs out, so it couldn’t have been a message from either of them. Etho pulled his device out as the pair did the same. Another message came in at the same time, and Etho was surprised to see some death messages appearing in chat.

He tried to send something, hoping to figure out what was going on, but there was just an error. He tried again, but again, the message didn’t go through. Etho looked back up, hoping that the killed hermits would reappear at spawn, but there was no luck of that. “Guys, I think we’ve got a problem.”

“Yeah, I think that’s kinda obvious.” Joe replied. “Question is what we’re gonna do about it.”

Etho looked back at his comm. “Well, we seem to be at spawn at zero zero. It looks like everyone else is scattered though. Since we can at least look at coordinates, others probably can too.”

“So if they’re not dying, they’ll probably come this way, right?” Beef asked, Etho nodding.

“Now for the most part, I don’t like it one bit. But if we’re probably the only safe people right now, we can’t go out looking for everyone.” Joe spoke up. “At least, we can’t right now. I mean, Mumbo’s at a woodland mansion, Impulse is dealing with guardians, and it seems like Scar and TFC are in the end.”

“And Wels just got killed by a hoglin, so he’s in the nether.”

“Right, well, without supplies, we can’t do anything. Since people are probably going to get back to spawn, we need to make sure they’ll be safe.”

Etho nodded at Joe’s statements. “So for now, we’re just going to have to pretend everything is normal and set up for anyone who needs help.”

“I guess we’ll start by getting wood.” Beef spoke up, walking to the nearest tree. Etho and Joe followed him, doing the same. They did the normal starting rigamarole of getting wood, replanting saplings, and getting a shelter in place. Joe went out hunting for sheep, hoping they could at least make beds. If people were stuck in horrid spawns, they likely would want to die and get stuck there after travelling so far.

Etho was the first to go mining, bringing back stone, coal, and even iron. He continued to staircase, trying to gather as much as he could. Every time his inventory looked even a little too full, he would go up and drop off supplies just in case. It was good that he did, because at one point he dug into a cave. A zombie attacked him, shearing off a few hearts. Etho was able to kill it, but then realized something and ran back to the surface.

“Guys, I’ve got some more bad news.”

“What is it?”

“I just ran into a zombie.” Etho said, holding his wound before moving his hand away from covering it. “My health isn’t regenerating.”

“Alright, I guess we’re going to have to be even more careful. You want one of us to mine now?”

Etho hesitated before shaking his head. “No. Even if I die, I should just come right back here.” He tore off some of his shirt and wrapped it around the wound. “We’re not dealing with what everyone else is, so we owe it to them to push through this.”

Before Joe or Beef could say anything more, Etho went back to the mine. He was able to make two more deliveries, but then he ran into a dungeon. He lit the room up and started grabbing things from chests, racing back up to tell the others. He had to be a bit fast, as a skeleton spawned in a corner that wasn’t light enough.

Etho reached the top of the stairs, shouting to get the attention of the other hermits. Then they watched as he was hit in the back and killed. And then were horrified as they didn’t see him respawn.

But Etho respawned, just not where he started, now finding himself in a ravine. While he was left there confused, he suddenly heard Ren’s voice saying his name before it turned into a shout and his voice got quieter as he fell into the ravine. It looked like there was even more going on here than they thought before, and Etho wasn’t sure how to feel about it yet.

#hermitcraft #scattered au #xisuma #xisumavoid #grian #avian!grian #watcher!grian #grumbot #jrumbot #impulsesv #goodtimeswithscar #mumbo jumbo #ethoslab #joe hills #vintage beef #rendog #my writing

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mamahersh · 3 years

Text

The Road to Hell (is Paved with Good Intentions) Chapter 5

“Season 8 was well underway, and the server’s first conflict is bubbling just under the surface. But BDoubleO can’t worry about that right now because he has an Etho to find so they can work on the Horse Course together. However when Xisuma calls a surprise server meeting on behalf of EvilXisuma, BDubs gets his answers about where Etho’s been in the worst way possible.”

(CW: angst, blood, gore, torture)

Chapter rating: M

Back to the rescue team and those left behind, focusing on BDubs and a surprise Mumbo Jumbo! (Bet you weren’t expecting Mumbo angst.) Thank you all again for your interest! As previously mentioned, if you enjoyed this, I was directly inspired by this fic over on AO3.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 6

BDubs knew it was going to be hard trying to find where Etho and EvilX were hiding, but he neglected to remember how nerve wracking it would be with the added challenge of hearing his communicator go off every time someone died. Admittedly, it had only been the two times thus far, but checking and seeing they were both Etho made him want to go insane. The only boon they had, paradoxically, was the same curse keeping Etho stuck in that hell hole: that they were able to respawn in the same place they had died in. This at least meant that their progress wouldn’t be undone at a moment’s notice because someone died and got sent to their base halfway across the map in the opposite direction they were searching.

After he had checked his communicator to see the death message, “Ethoslab was slain by Ethoslab whilst trying to escape EvilXisuma”; BDubs decided he would stop watching chat completely. If someone died, he knew they would be fine, and he really didn’t need to know how else Etho was going to suffer till they found him. Plus, he had Doc keeping an eye on Etho for him. And he had Beef by his side, plus the Big Eye crew supporting him. He just had to keep reminding himself he wasn’t alone, it wasn’t the jungle again, he had his people with him.

“Hey BDubs, you see anything yet?” called out Tango, flying by on his own elytra. BDubs startled in the straps of his elytra, and focused more on the ground below.

“I got nothin’!” he called back, swooping to the back of the formation the big eyes crew had made to check the area stretching from the girls’ southernmost border to the northernmost border of Cleo and Joe’s shared territory. They had decided to first fly over their assigned strip of the x coordinate line to see if there was anything obviously wrong from a bird’s eye view. After that, depending on the results from the other search teams, they would dig down in strategic intervals to be as thorough as possible. They had calculated the size of the room based on the video feed before they had left, and so they planned on digging straight down every 9 blocks along the axis. As crazy as that was, they were hoping with forteen hermits all doing it at the same time equally spaced along the line, they would be able to find Etho within an hour or two. (This all assumed that EvilX hadn’t been lying, but this was the only thing they had.)

——————————————————-

Mumbo hated every decision that had led him to this moment. He hated every decision that others have made on his behalf that had led to this moment. (That was a lie, he blamed himself completely. Even though Grian had had the idea to institute him as the CEO of Boatem, it was still his final say as to whether he would actually complete the role assigned to him. It was his decision to step up to the plate and lead them at this critical time. Everything that was happening was entirely his fault.) As he watched, horrified, Etho having to stay strong without anyone by his side; Mumbo thought he would throw up. If he didn’t faint first that was. (How pathetic of him, that he couldn’t handle the consequences of his actions.) He stood miserable in front of the screen, promising himself the least he could do was watch every moment Etho was without help and in pain because of him.

Beside him, Xisuma frantically typed in his admin console, seemingly trying in vain to undo whatever EvilXisuma had done to the respawn mechanics. To his other side, TFC stood stoically, seemingly unaffected by what he was witnessing, though Mumbo was sure that if he looked over, he’d be able to see the disguised pain in TFC’s eyes. Behind and a bit to the side of Xisuma was Joe, who’s pain was obvious to see, but stood strong despite it. (Mumbo wondered why Joe was here at all, till he remembered how close Joe was to Xisuma). To TFC’s other side stood Doc, who looked about one more Etho death from finding a way to crawl through the screen and detonating in EvilXisuma’s face. And to Joe’s other side stood Scar, sympathetic tears trailing down his face and holding himself in a way that Mumbo knew he did when he was particularly missing the comfort of Jellie the cat.

Mumbo watched as Etho poofed back into existence, arm that he had mangled looking noticeably more mangled than before.(Though there was something off about the restraints and his arm’s relation to them that Mumbo couldn’t place. It didn’t help the camera’s resolution wasn’t quite perfect clarity, and a bit of a wide shot, so details were a little difficult to pick out. Though it didn’t stop them from seeing the next part just fine.) Once Etho was back, EvilXisuma punched him in the face, hard enough they could see a tooth fly out of his mouth.

“You will regret that,” stated EvilXisuma, just barely loud enough to be picked up by the camera. (Mumbo knows Etho would normally have replied with something like, ‘you already said that’, but, well…)

“Any updates Xisuma?” questioned Doc, still staring intently at the screen looking for any clues as to the whereabouts of the the torture room.

“He’s still goin’ strong Doc,” replied Joe instead, peaking over Xisuma’s shoulder to see what he was up to. “You got any new clues?”

Doc growled under his breath. “No.” He sounded bitter to Mumbo, all acid and sharp edges.

“I can’t tell, but there’s something different about his arm I think,” said Mumbo hesitantly, nervously watching as the rest of the group stared intently up at the screen to see what he meant.

Scar spoke up, “I think I see what you mean. His arm isn’t quite aligned correctly with the chair arm, right?”

Mumbo nodded, pointing at Etho’s arm on the screen where it seemed to almost intersect with the cuff and was bleeding profusely. “I don’t know how, like if it was just a natural consequence of trying to move his arm in that direction as he died and respawned, or if it was just a one time fluke; but he seems to have gotten his wrist intersected with the cuff on the armrest and the stake from earlier seems off center.”

As Mumbo was trying to explain, EvilXisuma had begun to focus on Etho’s fingers, and starting on the opposite hand to the one they were observing, he began to break them individually. Mumbo was selfishly happy that he didn’t have to focus on Etho’s pain for a moment as he allowed himself to fully focus on the potential puzzle in front of him.

TFC suddenly spoke up, voice coming off as gruff. “Hrm, this is good and all, but it depends entirely on EvilXisuma not noticing this little update; which we’ve done a pretty poor job at not letting him on. What with him more than likely able to hear us, and all that.” Doc muttered a quiet, “fuck” under his breath in response, and they all held their breath as they waited to see if EvilXisuma would say anything.

Instead of saying anything, he continued to methodically snap more of Etho’s fingers, causing the group to flinch in varying amounts at each wet snap. However, as Mumbo was trying to take in details not relating to Etho’s pain, he could tell that the mic was picking up EvilXisuma’s muttering. But Mumbo didn’t have the super amazing hearing that someone like Ren or Grian had; but he wondered if one of the other people in the group here had more sensitive hearing. “Anyone able to make out what he’s saying?” muttered Mumbo.

Doc hissed a quiet affirmative, and muttered back, “Yesssss, but I need to focus. Please everyone be quiet, thanks.” Everyone but Xisuma nodded back, who was too busy still trying to figure out what EvilXisuma had done to the code to notice anything else around him.

Mumbo did his best to both suffer the consequences of his actions, while at the same time he couldn’t stand watching one of his fellow Hermits in that much pain. He could no longer distract himself, as he couldn’t make out what EvilXisuma was saying, and there were only so many times he could try to determine how many pixels on the screen related to the walls were just stone or his imagination trying to give him impossible answers. EvilXisuma had finally finished with Etho’s left hand, and he now moved to the right before he took a noticeable pause. Mumbo held his breath, hoping beyond hope that EvilXisuma somehow hadn’t noticed Etho’s weirdly placed hand. But that was an impossible wish after all.

“Well well well, how have you managed this then?” Evil Xisuma appeared to poke the part of the wrist that seemed to be poking part way out of the cuff. Mumbo couldn’t help but notice that Etho seemed so gone that he barely flinched at what should have been an incredibly painful jostle. “I’m interested in seeing how you struggle with this.” Evil X nodded at Etho. “Yes, I shall let you struggle. But we still have about 9 more bones to break, so on we go.” With that, he kneeled in front of Etho and started snapping the fingers on Etho’s right hand. Each wet snap ended with a muted whine and shudder from Etho, who seemed to have zoned out far enough that any reactions seemed mostly involuntary at this point. EvilXisuma seemed quiet for the first few snaps, before he went back to muttering in a just barely audible way. Mumbo could only assume that EvilXisuma was unaware that his mic sensitivity was set too high, and thought he was muttering in such a way as for those of them watching the stream would be unable to hear him. That, or it was an unconscious habit, and didn’t even realize he was doing it. Either way, Mumbo continued hoping he would continue to do so, so that maybe he would let something slip and Doc could post it in chat.

Meanwhile Doc had been listening closely to what EvilX had been saying, but none of it thus far had led to a clue. Most of what he was muttering were curses and the terrible things he planned to do to Etho. Honestly Doc wished he couldn’t hear what EvilX was saying, just so that he wasn’t obligated to continue listening to see if that scum slipped up. But the chance of catching something important was too high, so he went back to diligently listening to the stream, mentally cursing at every suppressed gasp or whine or wet snap from Etho.

EvilXisuma made quick work of Etho’s fingers, and seemingly tired of Etho’s lack of responses decided he needed to kill him. However, because he was feeling particularly vindictive, he gutted Etho, guts spilling over his knees before he disappeared in a flash of red. Mumbo, morbidly curious how the game would register the death, looked down at his communicator. “Ethoslab was slain by EvilXisuma.” He was selfishly grateful that the server messages were that generic. He watched further as Etho poofed back into the chair, though as before his killing blow hadn’t followed him through respawn, but all his previous wounds did. Mumbo looked very carefully at Etho’s wrists and saw that he had managed to get his wrist farther out, and the stake seemed almost completely out of his arm. Unfortunately for Etho, respawn managed to break him out of his trance, and he seemed far more present and aware (and in pain) for the moment. The only positive that Mumbo could see was that EvilXisuma seemed to have either turned off the speakers on his end, or was ignoring them completely. But Mumbo could only hope that either Doc would hear something soon, or the search parties would stumble across the hidden room soon; because he wasn’t sure how much more of this he could watch.

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justletmeplayminecraft · 4 years

Text

five times the hermits reassured xb his reputation doesn’t matter to them & one time they didn’t need to

another fic in @martuzzio‘s space outlaw au! this was a bit of an in-between whilst i prepped for a bigger project. this time: exploring xb and his feelings towards his false accusation.

featuring: xb needs hugs, i promise he gets them, me trying to feel out voices, lots of reassuring hermits, they’re a big family okay, xb is Not Okay with his bounty and the effects it causes, but they’re there to help, some cute kids, when you have problems: lie in a pool, its angst with comfort, the usual.

warnings: people are mean, panic attack, minor violence, less minor off-screen violence (mentioned gun violence, no details), low self image, self worth issues, bad decisions made whilst possibly dissociating, i swear its happy at the end.

XB has never been one for public attention. He'd always been happy at his job. He minded his own business, enjoyed the research and helping people. Sometimes he even socialised with his co-workers, though that rarely extended outside of work. He lived a solitary life, away from the public eye, and he was happy with that. He had his lot. He didn't need anything else.

Then the accident happened and his world turned upside down.

Everything he'd built for himself, the comfortable life he'd made, fell apart at his feet. Suddenly he was to blame for the corruption of an entire planet. And he knew- he knew it wasn't really his fault. It was a complete mismanagement, barely even his department! But maybe if he'd paid more attention, worked faster, spoken out-

He can't change things now.

What followed was the most stressful period of his life. He watched as charges stacked up, already convicted in the public opinion. He went on the run, hiding on the half-dead planet and just trying to survive, really. He stopped keeping track of anything else, feeling sick as people demanded his head. His abilities saved him from two assassination attempts. He ran further, hid better.

Until he met the Hermits.

After all this time, he's not quite sure how he ended up joining them. He thought he was dead when he first caught sight of that emblem. This was it. The outside world had finally caught up. Then they helped him. Then he was on their ship. Then Xisuma was asking in a kind voice if he wanted to become one of them. A Hermit.

To tell the truth, if he knew the reaction it'd cause, he wouldn't have agreed. He would have said no, been dropped on a planet with a new identity, and gone on his way into obscurity. Instead, he said yes. He became a Hermit with a capital H. It felt good, at first. To be part of something like that. They had his back, they knew the situation.

The publicity didn't happen immediately. The Hermits were a smaller group back then. It took a short while until the rest of the universe caught up. Even now, he has no idea who first broke the story. One night, he falls asleep, lounging in the pool. In the morning he wakes up to a slander campaign.

Not against him. Against the Hermits. Because of him.

Hermits protecting planet destroyer, Hermits support massacre, Hermits criminal, Hermits, Hermits, Hermits, Him.

Joe is the one who finds him having a panic attack at the bottom of the pool. He's first aware of light touches against his skin, the water swirling in ways he doesn't expect. He opens his eye in a panic, but Joe is already shielding his face. He gestures a thumbs up and it takes all of XB's effort to remember what that means. He nods in a rush, realises Joe can't see that, and tugs him up instead.

They surface together. XB takes a strangled gasp of air, struggling lungs already unhappy. Joe guides him to the side, speaking firm instructions XB doesn't fully process but obeys all the same. Eventually, they sit at the edge of the pool. He can't feel the water around his legs. He can barely feel Joe's hand on his back, rubbing circles. He loses track of time completely.

Joe doesn't leave him.

He waits, his hand and unintelligible words a companion whilst XB fights for air. When XB can make out his counting, he tries to follow Joe's encouragement and take deep breaths. His heartbeat continues racing. He squeezes Joe's free hand tight.

Once he's finally confident enough, he mumbles, "Sorry." Joe makes an audible noise of disagreement. He places something cool in XB's hand. It takes sliding his finger around to realise it's his eye protection.

"Nothing to apologise for," Joe tells him. With his eye controlled, XB can finally see Joe's face. The Hermit is looking at him with a gentle calmness, water dripping from his skin and hair. Without the pounding in his ears, XB can hear them splash against the tiles. "I'm going to go out on one of Cleo's limbs here, and guess you saw the news." XB rubs at one of his fins with a nod.

"I shouldn't have joined you guys."

"I disagree," Joe replies. XB turns away. He kicks his legs just enough to create gentle ripples in the water.

"I've made a right mess of things. For everyone." Joe bloops, leaning onto his hand.

"Hardly more of a mess than before," he tells him. There's no doubt at all in his voice. No anger. "XB, you have to understand we knew what would happen when we took you on. We care about you. Not the opinions of the faceless masses. If we cared about that then we wouldn't get anything done." XB sighs, a drop of water falling from his fin.

"How can you be so calm about this?" He asks. He can't find anything else to say. Joe pats his back lightly.

"In the same way I was calm when False joined." He kicks his feet. "Things will be dramatic. It might feel like the end of the world. But sometimes you just have to trust Xisuma knows what he's doing. And I certainly think he did when he invited you." Joe pushes onto his feet, offering his hand for XB. XB takes it, trying not to use it too much. Joe is sturdy despite that. "This will pass," Joe encourages, "And you will always have a place here."

"That's a pretty bold statement." Joe doesn't let go of XB's hand. He leads them away from the pool, not caring about the trail of water as they go.

"And yet it's a true one." XB chooses to focus on the ground instead. He's...

He'll get back to Joe on that one.

It's not often XB leaves the ship. He has one of the higher bounties out of all of them. Close to False's, and she actually deserves her's. He was terrified of her until she patiently taught him how to handle weapons, not once becoming frustrated as he struggled. She's still terrifying, but at least she's on his side.

Keralis was the one who pestered him out this time. The promise of buying extra fruit had tempted him into the supply run. He just needed a partner in crime (no leaving the ship without one) and pretty please, XB, pretty please?

So now XB is stood in the middle of a store, scanning the shelves and checking his half of the shopping list. He worries his lip, standing and catching a woman staring at him out of the corner of his eye. He continues searching, but her stare doesn't let up. He finally turns.

"Um, excuse me?" He asks, tilting his head in genuine concern. "Are you-" He doesn't expect her to surge forward, fury written on her face.

"If you weren't with those filthy Hermits I'd have you." The woman shoves his chest, forcing his back against the shelves. He blinks, fins flicking in defence.

"Wha-?"

"You go and you murder an entire planet. Don't show a bit of remorse. Then you run and hide behind them like a coward." XB can feel eyes on him now, the entire store falling silent at the exchange. He thinks he might be trembling. He can't quite tell. The woman is up in his face. His hand itches to take his eye protection off, gently put her to sleep and run. But there's witnesses, there's so many people and- "Maybe I should just do it right now. Consequences be damned." Her fingernails scratch into his armour, and he nearly falls as she pulls him forward.

"Oh, wow wow wow wow wow, ma'am." XB has never been more relieved to see Keralis. He steps in between them, blocking her from taking XB any further. "Could you unhand my friend, please? You're not being very nice." To XB's horror, she doesn't, nearly dragging him into Keralis as she gestures.

"What authority do you have?" She demands. "Defending a murderer like this, you should be ashamed of yourself." Keralis holds his hands up, ears twitching very slightly.

"XB is a perfectly good person. No murderer in him. And we'd like to leave, please." There's a threatening hint to Keralis's usually bright tone. The hand around his arm is finally released.

She storms away with a shout of, "You'll get what's coming to you!" XB's legs jellify beneath him. Keralis is quick to get an arm around his shoulders, holding him up.

"Come on, back to the ship with you. That's enough adventure for today." XB nods, resting briefly on Keralis's shoulders. With a bit of effort, he keeps himself steady enough to follow Keralis out of the store. He tries to ignore the eyes that follow them, the tightness it causes in his chest.

"What about the shopping?" His voice is quiet even to him. Keralis shakes his head.

"It's okay. Shishwamy will send someone else to do it. No worries." XB tries to let that comfort him but it only makes his anxiety worse. Once again, things are messed up because of him. This will put them off schedule, someone else will need to come out, and they'll all know it's because of him.

"Maybe," he starts, hesitating and continuing. "Maybe I shouldn't wear my suit when I come out." Keralis chirps in concern, keeping them at the edge of the busy streets.

"And why do you say that?" XB looks at his arm, at the deep colours and intricate patterns and mechanisms that make up the suit.

"It might be easier if people don't like, associate me with the Hermits when I'm in public." Keralis frowns, a big expression on his face. He squeezes the arm around XB's shoulders.

"XB, sweetiepie-" Keralis nudges his head against XB's. The hair tickles enough to make him gently laugh. "-If you don't want to wear your suit for your own safety, that's okay! But don't you go taking it off because you're afraid of making us look bad. No siree! You're a Hermit, XB, and we love you."

"That doesn't change people's opinions of me." Opinions so strong they're willing to threaten him in daylight, and nobody steps in. Keralis chitters.

"Doesn't change people's opinion of me either! But I know they won't be upset if we have to avoid a planet, or I can't attend a meeting. We care about you. And I'm sure there's lots of people out there who care about you too." XB can't bring himself to respond to that. He knows Keralis is discriminated against for being a banshee. But it's just...

It's not the same as being blamed for destroying an entire planet.

XB doesn't go out in public again for nearly a year.

"I can't believe this," Doc announces as he storms into the room. XB twitches, instinctively listening whilst he tries to focus on his book. He's tucked in the corner of the common room, buried in beanbags and mostly out of sight. He can see the wall of Cleo's hair move as she looks up.

"What's happened this time?" She asks, placing her book on the table. She moves her legs so Doc can sit down. It's been a busy few months for the ship. They've had new additions. Doc is one of them. He's fallen quickly into helping Xisuma with negotiations, managing their various relationships with other groups. XB is kinda terrified of him, actually. But he trusts Xisuma and his judgement. He wouldn't do anything to put them in danger.

"A group has dropped their support of us because of the latest drama." Doc collapses into the seat, leaning into the cushions. "I can't believe it, man." XB presses his mouth together, his fins pressing back. The latest drama being people remembering he exists as a Hermit. Some news came out about the planet he- he didn't destroy. He's been avoiding going online but, apparently it's inescapable.

"Seriously?" Cleo asks. She scowls behind her hair. "That's so stupid." Doc hums his agreement.

"I just don't get it." He throws his robotic hand up as he talks, leaning towards Cleo. "I mean, I've barely seen the guy, but he doesn't seem that bad. Not bad enough to make a campaign like this." XB swallows. He puts his book down in favour of squeezing his hands into his robe. Cleo sighs, nodding.

"He really isn't. I don't know why they keep dragging it up." She grabs one of her legs, pulling it up close to her. She leans on her knee. "You should've seen him when he first joined, Doc. Guy looked ready to accept his death."

"He doesn't even look capable of doing that to a planet-" XB almost chokes, standing and abandoning his book entirely.

"Sorry I'm- I'm just leaving." He wraps his arms around himself, ready to stumble out of the room.

Cleo is faster, jumping up and grabbing his arm, pulling him back with a stern, "XB." She pushes him between them, sitting him down and reclaiming her spot. XB ducks his head, tucking his legs up in front of him.

"XB, sorry man, I didn't realise you were in here." Doc sounds apologetic. He's looking at XB with worry, sat a careful distance away to avoid crowding him in. XB still finds him a frightening sight. The un-moving robotics bore into him.

"It's okay," he murmurs, wrapping his arms around his knees. "I would've found out eventually." Doc frowns.

"I meant talking about you like you weren't here," Doc says. "I'm not usually a gossip. Though I would've preferred to tell you more sensitively."

"If we knew they were gonna drop us over some false allegations, X wouldn't have allied with them to start with," Cleo tells him, crossing her arms as she sinks back.

"They don't really know it's false though," XB points out. "I mean, it's not like this isn't a ship of criminals." He can't help his glance at Doc as he says it. Thankfully, the former mafia leader takes no offence.

"I barely know you, XB, and even I can tell it's stupid." Doc's accented voice portrays his emotions well. "You seem like you've been a big help to the Hermits."

"He has been." Cleo pokes his legs with her foot. “You're a Hermit through and through, XB. No escaping it now."

"Everybody here has only good things to say about you, man. I'm proud to call you a crew mate. Who cares what anyone else thinks?" XB smiles, relaxing more onto his knees. It's nice to hear but-

He cares.

XB sighs as he flicks his fins back, fitting his helmet on snug and letting them pop into place. Keralis had to dip last minute, so XB is going to this meeting instead. He's not particularly intimidating, but hopefully he'll be able to defuse the situation if needs must. Two of the newer Hermits are coming as well. He watches as they suit up, making an odd pair. XB still isn't sure what to think of the group. Python vouched for them, but ex-Convex members? Especially such high ranking ones? And now one of them is going to a negotiation with them? Right.

"Is everybody ready?" Xisuma asks. There's a chorus of affirmatives. Doc stands next to Xisuma, files under his arms. "Let's get moving, then."

They keep as a tight unit, going over the plan once more. Xisuma and Doc will be doing the negotiating. XB and Wels, the other new Hermit, are there for protection. Scar, the ex-Convex, is there for luck. XB doesn't get it, and he's not going to ask.

The meeting falls apart from the moment they arrive, really. The crew they're meeting turn and whisper to each other, too quiet for XB's translator to pick up. Their admin steps forward, slit eyes threatening.

"You insult us," XB's suit translates. He can see Xisuma's suit plating shift as he tenses. He speaks in their language.

"I'm afraid I don't know where you're coming from," he replies, his voice controlled even in translation. Their admin steps closer. Any other person would've stepped away. Xisuma stands firm, Doc coming to his side.

"You bring a Convex member and a planet destroyer to our meeting." XB twitches, wanting nothing more than to sneak out of the room. "It is bad enough you grant them safety, but to have them in our negotiation?"

"Scar has denounced Convex, and the allegations against XB are false." Xisuma's voice is level, his posture not showing a hint of weakness. "Do you wish to negotiate or should we end this meeting here?"

"I recommend you leave with your lives while you can." XB shudders, fighting to stay still. He's thankful the helmet hides his expression.

"I recommend you don't threaten my crew." The temperature in the room drops with Xisuma's voice. The other admin steps back, eyeing them suspiciously. Xisuma turns to the Hermits, keeping an eye on the opposing crew. He nods. "We'll take our leave."

They exit at that, all of them keeping a watch that they aren't followed onto the ship. It's only when the door closes behind them that they relax. Wels darts to Scar's side. The ex-Convex collapses against the wall, trembling in his hold. XB looks away. That feels like something private. Definitely not something he'd expect from ex-Convex.

Apparently he's considered equivalent to the Convex. The thought makes him dizzy. Doc and Xisuma are already talking in low voices, recounting what happened and planning their next steps. XB is incredibly out of place. He glances around the room, trying not to feel jealous when he sees how close Scar and Wels are, how gentle Wels sounds, their helmets pressed together. XB swallows and slips out of the entrance hall before any of them notice.

He ignores anyone he passes until he reaches his room, closing the door behind him. His armour comes off, and he dives into the pool in the adjoining space. He sighs, lying face down in the water, barely feeling the fabric layer he left on. The liquid is a friendly pressure. Something comforting after all of... This. No matter what happens, he'll always have water.

Time passes as he lies there, blocking out the world outside the water. He tries not to think about how he's messed things up again. There isn't much else to think about, though. He doesn't understand why the Hermits keep him around when he causes so many problems. Lost deals, alliances, constant bad publicity. All tied to one person. Wouldn't it be easier to cut him off? XB could manage. Maybe he should do it for them.

"XB?" He jumps at the sound of an opening door, instinctively reaching up to cover his eye.

"Eye!" He calls, hearing the footsteps stop.

"Oh," Hypno's voice calls back. "Hold on, dude." XB follows the movement around his bedroom, until an object is placed in his hands with a pat. "There you go." XB pulls it over his eye, checking it's secure before looking. Hypno's crouched in front of him. He smiles, waving his fingers.

"How'd you know I was here?" XB asks, resting at the edge of the pool. Hypno sits down, not complaining about the wet floor.

"Guessed," he admits with a shrug. "They were worried when they realised you'd vanished." XB sighs, resting his chin on his arms.

"They seemed busy."

"Well, they are." Hypno nods in agreement. He crosses his legs so he can lean towards XB. "Xisuma doesn't want to stick around in case that crew turns hostile. But he was still worried about you."

XB frowns, "There's nothing to worry about."

"Is that why you're hiding in your pool?" Hypno asks. It's clearly not a question. XB slouches back into the water. "XB, it's not your fault, dude. You can't keep blaming yourself."

"Then who do I blame?" XB can't help but sound grouchy. If it weren't for him then that meeting might have worked out. Maybe they would've been fine with just Scar. Hypno leans back as he counts on his hand.

"The company for not taking responsibility, the management that decided to frame you, the other employees who were complicit, the news companies that were likely paid off, the ones that latched onto the story without researching it, the ones that keep bringing it up for quick clicks." Hypno turns to look at him. "Do I need to keep going?" XB shakes his head.

"I think I get the message," he replies. "But I'm not sure if it helps." Hypno nods without judgement.

"Then what do you think will?" He tries, instead. XB partially closes his eye to think about it.

"I'm not really sure." Hypno rubs his shoulder. The texture of dry skin helps ground him.

"That's okay." Hypno’s voice is friendly, reassuring. XB knows he's turned this into an impromptu therapy session. He thinks he needs it. "How about we try to work it out together? You're my friend, XB. I want you to be happy with us. I don't want you to feel guilty over things that aren't your fault." Hypno holds a hand out. "So, are you willing to work with me?" XB smiles, kicking up to meet his hand.

"Yeah. I think I can give it a shot."

They'd been outside, spending some time in the sunshine of the planet, then somebody-

XB squeezes his fins, continuing to pace the corridor outside the infirmary. Stress has closed the windows, needing to focus, and XB doesn't want to make anything worse. This is all his fault. Hypno's lying in there having emergency surgery because somebody wanted to kill XB. He finally falls against one of the walls as his legs give way, sliding to the floor with a quiet noise.

He formulates a plan in his head.

He's already been distant lately. This was the first time he'd hung out with Hypno in weeks, and look at what's happened. He can't be friends with people if he's going to hurt them. They'll understand. He hopes they'll understand.

He takes a deep breath.

His memories of the next hour are faint. He packs essentials into a bag. Leaves his suit and communicator neatly on his bed. He takes the emergency savings he keeps tucked away in his drawer, counting through without really taking it in. Though he writes a note, he doesn't remember what it contains. He thinks he stood in the doorway for a few minutes. Used some time to take in the room he's called home for so many years now. He really can’t remember.

Then he sneaks out, carefully unscrewing panels in the water filtration system, replacing them with care. He knows it like the back of his hand. He installed it, after all. The drop from the ship hurts his leg but nothing in his head registers it. He's lucky this is a big enough planet to park her. Means it'll be so much easier to get lost.

He wraps himself up in a coat, pulling it over his features. Some small part of him can't believe he's doing this. The Hermits are all he's known for years. They're his friends. But that's why it's so important he leaves. He survived on his own before. He can do it again.

He finds a room in a hotel for the night. The robotic receptionist doesn't question who he is, accepting the money and giving him the door key. He collapses onto the bed in a heap, realising he has no idea what he's going to do next. His plan kind of trails off here. Perhaps he'll hide out in this hotel until the ship leaves, but that's wasting money. It's probably better to head out for supplies, and get on a ship as far away as possible.

For today, he's exhausted enough to curl up under the covers and hide from the world. It doesn’t feel like he’s part of it right now, anyway.

There's a knock at the door.

He sighs, burying his face into the pillow. The knock only gets more insistent. Realistically, it's either the Hermits or somebody who's here to kill him. The fact they've not broken down the door yet suggests the Hermits. Well, the more responsible ones. XB keeps a hand on his eye strap either way. He's still in the rumpled coat.

He'll admit, he's surprised to see Xisuma in the doorway. The admin is wearing a cloak, his shadowed eyes nearly glowing in the darkness. He looks tired. When doesn’t he?

"Can I come in?" Xisuma asks, keeping his voice quiet. XB nods, stepping aside. If only because X should not be stood out in the corridor of some hotel in the same town someone tried to kill XB half a day earlier.

"I hope you're not here on your own," XB tells him, sitting on the bed. Xisuma finds a chair by the desk, sitting down tidily.

"Some of the others are nearby," Xisuma replies. "They checked it was safe first. Out of concern for you, as well." XB leans against the wall. "Hypno is okay, by the way. He was asking after you." XB sighs, tucking away into the coat.

"You're trying to make me feel guilty."

Xisuma shakes his head, "I'm letting you know. He was worried. We all were."

"He could have died because of me," XB doesn't try hiding it. Not from himself.

"Were you the one who shot him?" Xisuma asks. There's no change from his gentle tone.

"No, but-"

"Then you weren't the reason." XB knows, logically, that's true. He wasn't the one who fired on him. He didn't frame himself, all those years ago. It's just hard to prove that in his head. Not when the consequences are right in front of him. When he’s spent so long thinking about everything he could’ve done differently.

"It feels like I am," he says, tilting forward on the bed. "I don't want to make the people around me unsafe anymore. Any of the Hermits." Xisuma nods, sitting up in the chair.

"If you want to leave, I won't stop you." XB swallows. He really can just leave. Just... Go. "But I want you to consider if that's what you want to do. Not because you want to protect us. We can protect ourselves. Do you want to leave?" XB digs his fingers into his leg.

"I'm not sure." Does he want to leave? He wants to keep the others safe. He wants to stop giving the Hermits his bad reputation. But they're still his friends. His family. He doesn't want to leave them, but he doesn't see a compromise.

"XB." He automatically looks to Xisuma when he says his name. "I am truly sorry I never addressed this with you before. I'm sorry it's been affecting you for so long."

"It's not your fault," XB replies. Xisuma shakes his head.

"I should have done more for you. And I'm willing to offer that now." XB’s fins twitch in confusion. "What do you say we try and clear your name?"

"You don't need to do that for me."

"I want to. The others want to." Xisuma crosses the room, sitting down in front of XB. "That's what I'm offering. You can stay with us. We want you to stay with us. And we'll help you achieve this. However we can."

"Nothing that would put you in danger," XB corrects.

"Nothing that would put the Hermits in danger," Xisuma agrees. XB shuts his eye, considering what that would mean for him. It's not like everyone would believe it. It's not going to solve all his problems. But it's a start. He can't just- keep feeling guilty forever. He's so tired of it. "You're family, XB. We want you happy." XB nods, leaning forward. His body is heavy with relief. Xisuma welcomes him into his arms.

"Okay," he agrees, "I want the same."

XB pauses at the sound of loud shouting coming from the park. He turns, watching Keralis jump to the fence delighted. Hypno laughs, gently pulling XB to watch.

"You can't get me!" A girl yells, dark cornrows pulled into a bun. She climbs onto the play equipment, standing with confidence at the top. Another girl runs to the ladder, her hand held in mimic of a gun. Her blonde hair is done in a braid.

"You can't run forever!" She follows it up with loud 'pew's, hanging off the ladder as she pretends to shoot.

"Yeah, I can put you to sleep!" Another boy climbs up the slide, his brown hair falling into his eyes. Keralis is chirping in excitement, watching with a wide smile. The chirps attract the attention of the blonde. She gasps, losing her grip on the ladder and falling backwards.

Keralis makes a surprised noise. He jumps the fence, rushing to the girl's side. XB doesn't see any parents around, following with Hypno.

"Hey, little madam, are you okay?" Keralis asks, crouching down by the girl. She sits up, bouncing forward with glee.

"You're Hermits!" She cries, voice high and squeaky. The other two kids are peering at them around the play equipment. Their mouths hang open.

"We are!" Keralis agrees. "And what's your name?" The girl's hands spread out across the spongy playground floor.

"I'm Flora!" She grins. "I like it 'cause it starts with an 'F', like False." Keralis nods, offering his hands to stand the girl up again. She wobbles on her feet, spinning to show off her plait. “And we have the same hair colour! It’s so cool!”

"Yeah, False is really cool, isn't she?" Keralis watches with a carefully controlled smile. It’s cute how he tries not to scare them. She jumps, holding her arms out wide.

"She's so cool! She's my favourite."

"Not as cool as Stress!" The other girl calls, running into her friend's back. She nearly sends them both sprawling over again. "She helps people, no matter what! I want to do that." Hypno joins Keralis, pulling XB over with him.

"A very noble cause," Hypno tells her. "I'm sure you'll be amazing." She puts her hands on her hips with a grin.

"Yeah. I'm gonna be the best doctor you've ever seen."

"Yeah, but Stress doesn't have four arms," Flora points out, mimicking each style of weaponry. "How cool would that be?" Keralis laughs, a series of cheerful chirps escaping with it.

"They're both cool, how about that?" He suggests, before it turns into a full argument.

"What about you?" Hypno encourages, holding an arm out for the boy. "Do you have a favourite?"

"His favourite is XB," the dark haired girl says, pointing at him. XB places a hand on his chest, unable to contain a squeak of surprise.

"Me?" He checks, not quite able to believe that. The three nod their heads. They peer up at him in a semi-circle, with bright eyes and curious faces.

"You can put people to sleep like Hypno-" the boy points at him, "-But you got such a cool backstory!"

"Mm-hm!" Flora nods quickly. "Framed by an evil company, joining the Hermits to do good across the universe!" She poses towards the sky, pumping her fist and bending a leg up. XB laughs softly, finding himself hiding behind his hand.

"Oh, oh, oh!" The boy jumps forward, looking between Hypno and XB. "Can you put us to sleep? That would be so cool!" Hypno laughs at that, joined by Keralis's squeaky giggles.

"I don't think that would be smart." He pats the boy's hair, smiling at XB. "But, if you've got something for us to sign, we could do that?" The girl claps, grabbing Flora's hands excitedly.

"We've got our cards!" She shrieks. She grabs the boy's hand. "Ben, come on, let's get them!" The trio run off across the playground, digging in their bags. XB can see the look Hypno and Keralis are giving him. He smiles, ducking his head in embarrassment.

"Don't you two start," he warns, hiding behind his hands. Keralis leans over, gently wiggling one of XB's fins.

"You're his favourite," he teases, voice sing-song. XB laughs, hiding even further.

"Noooo," he whines. Hypno puts his arm around XB's shoulders, pulling him into a side hug.

"And they're smarter than the press," he tells XB, his voice trying to sound serious, but playful all the same.

"Much, much smarter!" Keralis agrees.

"Only 'cause of you guys," XB reminds them. Keralis takes XB’s other side, pinning him between his friends.

“Nah.” Keralis rubs his fist against XB’s head. “You’re just finally getting the love you deserve.”

“Absolutely.” Hypno tilts around so XB can see his smile. XB ducks his head, embarrassed. But the feeling doesn’t leave him. Not as they talk to the kids, signing their cards and telling them (child friendly) stories of their travels. Or amongst the loudness of the other Hermits. His family. He’s a Hermit. And the people who care about him are the ones who matter.

#space outlaws #space outlaws au #not gonna maintag this one lmao #my writing #tbh im just a sucker for ppl reassuring others #knowing you have a place somewhere #its good stuff #also u can somewhat track time passing across seasons by who appears lmao #and i liked the lil side things i snuck in #doc n cleo having bonded over similar histories #wels n scar having a bond #the forehead touch is becoming a thing #anyway enough rambling #hope yall enjoyed

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whycraft · 5 years

Text

a lump in the throat: chapter 6

He was pretty sure his fortress was breaking. He was pretty sure the world was breaking. The mobs whispered about it in hushed tones outside. If he lifted his head from the wool pile he’d been laying on for the past few days, he could just see the edge of a black void where the world should be. Like when a chunk wouldn’t load, but darker.

He laid his head back down and closed his eyes. It didn’t matter. He was stuck in the Nether no matter what. Death, at least, would be a break from the tedium.

“Evil X.”

Ex opened his eyes. Xisuma stood at the entrance to his fortress, staring angrily down at him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Ex asked, with barely enough inflection in his voice to tell it was a question.

“It looks like you’re causing the entire world to glitch. Stop whatever it is you’re doing and put the world back to normal right now.”

“I’m literally doing nothing. And if you don’t mind, I’m going to continue doing nothing.”

Xisuma scowled. “This isn’t funny.”

“I think it’s funny that you’re wasting your time.”

Xisuma punched the wall so hard that the netherbrick cracked. “Stop playing games with me!”

Ex blinked. Slowly, he pulled himself up into a sitting position. “Games?” He stood, hands balled into fists. “Games?”

Xisuma stepped back.

“I can’t believe you, of all people—”

“This isn’t about me.”

“It’s always about you! What about your fucking games, huh? What about saying you’d give me a chance! What about banning me for no reason! What about isolating me from everything and everyone and not even bothering with an explanation! What about fucking up my life every time I’m at peace with it! What about that, Xisuma!”

Right as he finished shouting, the world convulsed. A huge spire of Netherrack erupted from the ground. It split the floor in half and knocked Ex and Xisuma clean off their feet. Ex hit his head on the wall so hard that he would have been dead if he hadn’t been wearing his helmet.

Xisuma staggered to his feet. “Evil Xisuma, that’s enough!”

“I’m not doing anything!”

A second spire erupted next to Xisuma.

Amidst the cacophony of rocks crashing and the fortress crumbling, fireworks sounded faintly.

“Who else is here?” Ex shouted. “Who else did you bring along to play your games with you?”

“No one is supposed to be here.” Xisuma’s eyes were wide with fear and surprise. “I told everyone to stay together in TFC’s bunker.”

Fireworks sounded again and someone rocketed straight through the entrance of the fortress. If it hadn’t been for Xisuma grabbing their feet as they flew by, they would have rocketed straight into the netherrack spire.

As it was, they just fell flat on their face instead. They groaned and pushed their fiery orange hair out of their face.

“Cleo?”

She looked up. Her nose was at an odd angle—although it wasn’t bleeding—and the thorns from her flower crown had scratched her face.

“H—” she began, but was interrupted by a second person flying into the fortress and running into the back of her head.

“Ow,” groaned the new person, and rolled off of Cleo, holding their head. In the middle of fixing his glasses, he saw Ex and went very, very still.

Ex’s mouth was dry. “Joe?”

“Ex. Howdy. It’s… been a while.”

“A month. It’s been a month.”

“Ah. Right.”

All four of them stood staring at each other, with only falling rocks breaking the silence.

“Alright, I’ve had enough of this,” shouted Cleo suddenly. “You three are causing more trouble than you need to and you’re not even doing it on purpose. Everyone sit down on the floor criss-cross applesauce; if you’re going to behave like children, I’m going to treat you like children.”

Ex, Joe, and Xisuma all stared at her, trying to figure out if she was being serious.

She clapped her hands twice. “Come on, criss-cross applesauce.”

Ex and Joe slowly sat down and crossed their legs. Xisuma was more reluctant. “Cleo, you can’t—”

She crossed her arms and glared at him. “Sit down, Xisuma.”

Xisuma sat.

Cleo uncrossed her arms. “Okay. We’re all going to have a chat, and we’re all actually going to participate. Who wants to go first?” Silence. “Nobody?”

“I can go,” said Joe. “What exactly are we discussing?”

“Why don’t you talk about what’s been going on for the past month?”

“Um. Okay.” He pushed his glasses up his nose and looked down. “Ex got banned. I tried to get Xisuma to unban him, but he wouldn’t listen. I messaged Ex a lot and he didn’t reply. I—”

“Liar,” snarled Ex. “If you’re going to ghost me, the least you can do is not lie about it.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Then why didn’t I get any messages from you? Why didn’t you answer any of the messages I sent you?”

“Ex, I never got any messages from you.”

Ex frowned. “What?”

“I never got any messages from you.”

“But—I sent you so many.” Ex took out his communicator and pulled up all the messages he’d sent in the last month. “See?”

Joe took the communicator from him. “I never got any of these. How…” He scanned the messages. “Wrong? What do you mean, ‘did I do something wrong’?”

Ex hunched his shoulders. “You never answered me. I thought…” He trailed off and shrugged.

“I thought you were mad at me because Xisuma caught you. But why did neither of us get these messages?”

“I think this is a good place for Xisuma to take his turn,” interjected Cleo. “Xisuma, if you will?”

Xisuma shifted uncomfortably under three sets of eyes. “I’m not sure what you want me to say.”

Cleo tapped her chin. “I’d recommend you start with the bit about blocking messages and then we’ll work from there.”

Joe’s voice was steely. “Blocking messages?”

“I changed the code so that Evil Xisuma wouldn’t be able to send or receive messages,” said Xisuma, “but it was a safety precaution! Look what happened when he was able to send messages!”

“What, how I was able to make a friend? Oh, yeah, that’s real dangerous, right there!”

“You were able to get yourself unbanned!”

“And why did you ban Ex in the first place, Xisuma?” asked Cleo.

“He’s a hazard. Am I the only one who remembers all the times he tried to blow up the server?”

“No,” said Joe, “but you’re the only one who forgets that he apologized and did his best to make up for what he did.”

“You can’t seriously think he was being genuine.”

“So, just to clarify: you banned Ex for things he’d done in the past and apologized for? Even though he hadn’t continued to exhibit the same behaviours?” said Cleo.

“Well, yes, but—”

“Okay, I think we’ve heard enough on that subject. Let’s move on. Xisuma, could you be so kind as to remind us how Ex came to be?”

Ex scowled. He hated this story.

“I fell into the Void, and admins aren’t supposed to die in the Void. It resulted in a glitch that produced Ex.”

“Thank you. I’m going to take the floor now, if nobody minds.” She cleared her throat. “My hypothesis is that Ex is an admin without full control of his administrative powers.”

Ex goggled at her. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Think about it, it makes sense. You used to be a part of an admin, why wouldn’t you be an admin?”

“If that’s your only proof, consider me unconvinced,” said Ex.

“Just be patient, there’s more. Everybody knows about the weird chunk errors that have been happening all over the server, right?”

They all nodded.

“Admins are tied to their worlds—their servers reflect their emotions. There’s a reason Xisuma’s always so calm; the server would go haywire if he wasn’t.”

“Are you saying the world is breaking because I’m angry?”

“It’s stopped breaking since you calmed down, hasn’t it?”

She was right. In the time they’d been having their conversation, the world had stopped shaking, and there were no more chunks of Netherrack coming through the floor.

“That would also explain why you end up in the Nether when you get banned. Admins can’t get banned from their own world, so the server decided to do the next closest thing. But there’s only one way to tell for sure, of course.”

“And what’s that?”

“Try opening up your own command screens.”

#nearly done yall!#only a couple chapters left to go #evil xisuma #joehills #ex #joe #zombiecleo #cleo #hermitcraft #hermitcraft fanfic #minecraft fic #whycraft writes #my post

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archetypal-archivist · 3 years

Text

Xisuma and Evil X- A Hero By Any Other Name

So. This happened. You ever get the urge to write 9000 words of Evil X and Xisuma as brothers that in a Super Hero AU where the government is corrupt and runs all the heroes into the ground in the name of “protecting the most people possible”? With lots of Evil X making poor choices to help out his exhausted hero of a brother? And then have that story end up taking over your life for about a week until you can get it all out? Yeah. Yeah, glad I finally finished this but gosh darn am I double glad that I can move on to other projects.

Also on AO3.

__________

A story in which there are two little boys, a pair of twins by the names of Evil X and Xisuma. Xisuma is good and kind and responsible, everything that his mother ever wanted and more. Evil X was the mistake, the additional child their parents didn't want nor could afford to have. Their parents had run the math, knew the risks, knew that if they penny-pinched enough, they could afford to have the child they always dreamed of. Evil X threw their maths into chaos, and if they wanted one son, they had to take both.

Evil X and Xisuma knew that Evil X was a mistake, that his presence was why their family could never afford to go to the movies, why they couldn't buy school lunches like all the other kids, why their parents were so stressed and tired and cruel. Still, Xisuma was glad that his brother existed, even if it made his parents' lives harder. He wondered if that made him a bad son.

In time, Evil X and Xisuma were left alone by everyone in their lives and until all they had are each other and the void that their parents left them with when they had to look them in the eye and tell them that they couldn't take care of them anymore. Even now Xisuma thinks that the void raised them better than their parents ever did, teaching him and his brother to lie through their teeth, be sneaky, be cruel.

In the orphanage and the many foster homes that followed, Evil X did his best to take care of his twin as a sort of penance for screwing up the life Xisuma could have led. In return, Xisuma lied and lied and lied to the matrons and the well-meaning children about anything and everything he needed to. They don't need anyone but each other. (Truth.) They are happy. He is everything that Evil X needs, Evil X doesn't want a family. Xisuma is enough. (Lie.)

(Gods, don't take his brother away.)

Xisuma grew up with lies on his tongue and smiles in his eyes, warping himself into the golden child, larger than life. Evil X grew up in the shadows with bruised knuckles, a bruised heart, and eventually, scars across his face from a fight gone bloody and wrong. He was protecting Xisuma, the scars were worth it- his brother accepts them with an odd little smile on his face and a shattering in his eyes. It is a moment that stays with them long after.

---

Eventually, foster homes turn into streets and dumpsters, and long nights spent under the covers together are turned into nights spent up in the branches of trees in the park. Xisuma makes friends with the pigeons while Evil X pretends not to like their feathered neighbors. They curl up the same though, bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces high in their bower. Made for each other, quietly shaping themselves around their twin so as to better protect them and shield them from the cold.

Evil X comes home to their tree with stolen sweaters and wilted flowers and popcorn kernels from behind the movie theater so that the birds don't starve. Xisuma meets him with tears of wonder in his eyes and fire dancing on his fingertips.

Xisuma has magic. Evil X tries not to be jealous. As it turns out, he has very little to be jealous of when it's revealed that there are many other people who have magic throughout the city- or rather, "superpowers." It's like something straight out of a comic book, if that comic book resembled something like Neil Gaiman's "Sandman" or the Transformers IDW continuity.

People start dying. A lot of people. Those with powers that make them look monstrous are feared, hated, and eventually outcast. Those with powers that are useful are drafted to fight wars and heal people for hours and hours with no rest in the hospitals. Xisuma sells himself to the city officials behind Evil X's back and in return, he and his brother get a cold glass and steel apartment and food enough that they will never starve again.

Evil X begins to build up muscle, fleshing out and growing tall and strong. He hates it, hates his body, because Xisuma never becomes more than whipcord strength and whispered words- down-turned eyes, up-turned lips. Reassurances that he's happy, really, truly. So obedient, his brother, the ideal filial son to the system that Evil X could never bring himself to be. They train the civilian out of his twin and mold him into a leader, a real proper superhero.

They don't give his brother lunch breaks. They need his power too badly, they say. There are people dying and they need his strength.

Gods, it makes him sick.

Xisuma's slight figure hides in his brother's shadow when they are at home, and Evil X does his best to wrap around him until the "monsters" of the world can't get him. Evil X lets Xisuma's flames dance across his fingertips and tickle his face, their gentle warmth driving out some of the chill in their big empty apartment. On truly special days, they go to the park to feed the birds. The higher ups don't like that, of course, insisting that Xisuma under Evil X's care is like using his spark for a kerosene lamp, contained, stifled, unable to help anyone in any way that matters.

The city wants a bonfire. Evil X growls and tells them no, but Xisuma just smiles and his eyes shatter a little more as he goes with them willingly, offering himself up as kindling. His superhero name is Matchstick of all things, and Evil X knows his brother well enough to know that he picked it out himself.

A nod to the fact that he is destroying himself? An inside joke and an apology in one, maybe. It breaks his heart too much to think on it.

---

With time, the rules and roles become a little clearer and the war begins to solidify. Basic rights for those with powers is still in the works, but Xisuma is able to start eating a little more. Evil X makes him protein shakes to take with him to work anyway.

The heroes are this: Matchstick, Reaper, Ivy-Over, Xenon, Spatter, Shank, Krypton, and Trigometric. Xisuma, Cleo, Gemini, Tango, Vintage Beef, Iskall, Impulse, Cubfan.

The villains are this: Armistice, Zyon, Ooze, Clockwork, Poultryman, Valkerie, and Lumesce. (Welsknight, Etho, Jevin, Mumbo, Grian, Stress, Pearl- but our hero doesn't know this yet.)

Evil X sits on their shared bed and holds his twin in his arms, listening to him talk about work with troubled eyes.

Reaper. Cruel, with a tongue like a knife and teeth even sharper. She eats her enemies whole and seems to enjoy the taste of blood. Somewhere in the dark of the building is a man named Joe who whispers comebacks and threats to her for her to use in her next fight. She has not seen him free or unshackled in three years. Around his neck is a metal collar, an irony too bitter for her to speak of often. Xisuma hopes they treat him well.

Ivy-Over, blinded by the glitter and shine of heroism, still firmly thinking the best of her political overlords. Naive. Carefully herded off the battlefields as soon as her fights are over so that she never sees the casualties her massive vines leave in their wake. Xisuma worries that one day the illusion will be broken and with it her mind. She seems like the kind of person who could regress to using entrails as a skipping rope if pushed far enough. Evil X does his best to reassure him, but the lies turn to mulch in his mouth.

Xenon and Krypton, a duo that never let the higher ups split them up or force them to fight alone. Together they share a record for the fewest recorded injuries, as well as a certain fierceness in their eyes as they volley explosive balls of shadow and light between them, bouncing them back and forth to build up velocity before letting them loose on their enemies. Still, the people whisper about how much more help they could do if they were simply separated, able to cover more places at once. At night, Xisuma hears them crying, bundled tight in each other's arms and mourning their missing third.

Shank, their sniper. Supreme accuracy, a consequence of his self-built bionic eye and his special laser rifle. The higher ups are murmuring about what he could do if more of him was bionic. What improvements could be made to his body? How many more lives could be saved? (How many more "monsters" could be put behind bars?)

Splatter, their brawler. A sip of blood and he hulks out, his strength becoming all the greater the more he drinks, so the higher ups give him all the blood he could stomach and more. They never tell him where it comes from, and he's too afraid to ask. (He was a butcher before this whole hero thing, he had explained to Xisuma once. He knows what animal blood tastes like. What they give him is definitely not animal blood- and sometimes, it makes him feel sick. He always was allergic to steroids.)

Trigometric, who bent reality into fractals, who seemed just a bit more broken than the rest. He actually liked his job, and that perhaps made him less of a hero and more of a monster. (Mr. Goodtimes was a head of government of some renown, famous for his power plays and his campaign that favored brutal action against those that the city condemned. Trigometric called him "Scar" with affection on his lips and that was perhaps scariest of all.)

It's terrifying hearing about his twin's coworkers and their varying flavors of unfortunate and unstable, even worse when he has to stay at home and watch the news to see if his brother has survived to see another day against the violent protests and the drug rings and mobs and super villains.

Because there are super villains. He even meets one.

---

The pigeons need feeding. Life or death, whether Xisuma is around to remind him or no, the pigeons need feeding so every Tuesday and Saturday Evil X goes to the park with a bag of bird seed. It just so happens that one sunshine-filled summer day there is someone there before him. Crouched close to a few pigeons, at first he thinks the figure is just dressed in a purple cloak, but when the figure stands up and stretches, the cloak separates to reveal a pair of brilliant purple wings. Poultryman.

Evil X has seen his brother come back from fights and he knows that while Poultryman is a figure of some renown, his battles rarely cause collateral damage- that's more the hallmark of his partner Clockwork. So when Poultryman turns to face him, trademark white mask over his eyes and an odd expression on his face, Evil X just glares and walks up to him to dump the bag of bird seed on the super villain's feet.

"For the birds," he says tersely before spinning on his heel, preparing to walk away. The sound of bright, cheerful laughter has him pausing and the sound of wings meeting the dirt has him turning around. Poultryman is on the ground, rolling around in the bird seed and laughing his head off, clutching his stomach and flapping his wings wildly, which only makes even more of a mess.

"Pffftt- hahaHAhAHaH! Oh gods, your face! If I couldn't tell you were so pissed off to see me I wouldv'e thought this was the greatest prank ever!" Oookay? Evil X crosses his arms, unimpressed and left with a sneaking suspicion he is being made fun of.

"And?" Poultryman lets out a last few wheezing gasps before smoothly rolling to his feet, mask askew and utterly covered in dirt, grass, and bird seed. The local pigeons have, surprisingly enough, not scattered just yet.

"And that was brilliant! Tell me, are you the one who's been feeding the birds around here? The pigeons have been dying to introduce me to their 'friend' and I've been eager to meet them ever since. Well, the word translates more to family but there's some non-pigeon implications mixed in there, so friend works a little better. I don't think my feathered friends have quite yet figured out how to buy their own bird seed. You don't look like a pigeon anyway."

"No. I am not a pigeon," Evil X sighs, shifting his feet but keeping his posture defensive. If he remembers right, Poultryman never did any real damage but he apparently came off to Xisuma as a little unhinged and he'd rather not test the super villain's good mood. "And yes, I feed the birds around here. Can I go?"

Poultryman tilts his head to the side, going abruptly silent and still, all emotion wiped from his body language, expression, and voice. "That depends. Would you like to make Matchstick's life a little easier? I have a deal for you."

---

It goes a little something like this.

Clockwork and Poultryman schedule a raid on a local food processing plant, hoping to take their newest shipment of tin. Matchstick and Splatter are in the area and are called in to help. It's a poor match up to begin with, with Splatter's strength not doing much against Clockwork's robotika and Matchstick- while able to keep up with Poultryman in the air, barely- can't seem to land a solid hit on the villain. It doesn't help that he seems to be limited in how hard he hits, too conscious of what his flames might do to Poultryman's vulnerable feathers and of just how high they are in the air. Clockwork, meanwhile, is free to pilfer what he and his partner please from the plant.

However, despite the lack of damage the super heroes are able to do, the villains do even less. To Evil X, that is all that matters.

In another part of the city, a group of civilians meet in an abandoned railway car, dry docked in a train yard with its rusted frame resting on several heavy blocks of wood. The door is chained shut, but that means little when the underneath has a hole cut into it and if one is determined enough, crawling inside is easy. There, they exchange moth-eaten blankets, half-broken appliances, tattered clothes, and the tools to fix them. Money. Documents.

Evil X brings food. The government promised food unending to him and his brother, he may as well take advantage of it.

A deceptively normal-looking man with glasses and a deactivated metal collar around his neck brings a stack of books in, most of them picture books for the children. Another man, this one with green skin and robotik prosthetics, brings a stack of battered but newly repaired mobile phones, gaze shifting around nervously, as if scared to be caught there. Evil X makes a quiet note of the men but moves on. Theirs is not a story he feels like tampering with today.

When Xisuma comes home to find Evil X laying face-down in bed, fast asleep, he just smiles and tucks himself in beside his twin. Today is the first day in a long time he had come out from a fight unscathed, and tomorrow he will share the good news with his brother. For now, he sleeps.

---

In time, Evil X becomes a staple of the Homeless Enforcing Principles, which quickly gets abbreviated to the rather unimaginative "HEP." He wonders in the back of his mind if a certain man in glasses had something to do with the name, but decides not to bother with that quickly enough. He has enough on his plate as is with his newly adopted duties.

You see, when you get a diverse enough body of people together from all echelons in the city, and then put them into a rather small space, they begin to do what every group of friendly strangers like to do on the train- start complaining. Sometimes it's about the new "neighborhood watch" starting trouble on the corner of 6th and Fruit, sometimes it's about the new increase in taxes their boss wants to implement, sometimes it's about the stock that slips through the gaps when the trucks come to restock the supermarket.

Between him and his twin, Evil X never really was the one for idle chit-chat, but he knew lies just as well as his brother did and public speaking was just lying with a pretty bow on top. Stock begins to get left off of inventory sheets and put into the hands of the needy. The "neighborhood watch" get pointed towards the parts of the city that actually need their help (conveniently drawing the attention of the local law enforcement, who can actually do something about the problem).

He begins to donate more and more food to the cause, waistline thinning in the process. He thinks he likes his figure better that way.

As Evil X puts more time into his new project, crime rates don't exactly go down, but the number of people arrested for stupid reasons certainly does. The other members of HEP begin to bring in their friends and family and the pool of resources and talents grows, expanding outside the walls of their train car and out into people's basements, gas station parking lots, metal trash bin bonfires in the park. Little pools of community, and for Evil X, wellsprings of information.

Clockwork and Poultryman are some of the first actual super villains to come to the meetings, this time under the names of Mumbo Jumbo and Grian, but they are not the last.

---

Armistice arrives hanging off of Lumesce's shoulder one night, his metal body forcing her to drag him along on the ground, shredded legs unable to hold his own weight. She cries steady tears of light, seemingly near-physically pained at being unable to further help him. Evil X watches quietly from the background as Grian looks up and over the bonfire from where he is tending the jagged gash in the unconscious Mumbo's leg.

"Wels. Pearl. Got you too, huh?" The carefully kept-up cheer is gone from the man's face as the duo settle down by the fire, sprawling out in a rough heap.

The woman, Pearl, nods wearily, pulling off her hood and wiping at her face, glowing tears staining her black jacket. "Yeah. Trigometric decided he wanted to come and 'play' for a bit, seems he finally caught on to the illegal clinic I was running down in Mr. TFC's basement. I was lucky enough to get an anonymous tip that he was coming, but Wels got caught in the crossfire for defending me." Grian nods back, eyes distant.

"Give Mumbo a hand with his leg, I'll go grab the last of our tin for Wels to eat so he can patch himself up. E-X?" Evil X straightens up at the winged man's attention. "Call up Keralis and see if you can't get some hew housing sorted for Mr. TFC. I doubt his house survived in the crossfire and you might as well fix it for him with my permission and funds rather than just sort it out behind my back and try to sell it to me as an 'investment' later." With that parting remark Grian stands up stiffly and flies away, leaving Pearl to make her way over to his partner, healing tears already streaming down her face so that she can start to fix the wound.

On the other side of the fire, Wels reaches down and rubs at the sharp and twisted metal of the remnants of his left leg, expression lost and weary. "Things can't keep going like this, so many of us are running on fumes by this point. Something has to change." Expressionless, Evil X just turns away, pulls out his cellphone, and begins to make a few calls.

He carefully ignores the twisting of his heart in his chest.

The next day, Mr. TFC has a room in a decent hotel and Evil X sits on his perfectly white couch staring at his overly large TV, watching the news. Armistice and Poultryman are fighting against Matchstick and Ivy-Over, dashing in and landing a few hits before retreating to the shadows, then running up to repeat the process again. The fight ends with both sides retreating, the heroes to the hospital, the villains to skies with Poultryman straining to bear both Armistice's weight and the load of cash stolen cash in his arms.

Grian's going to pull a wing muscle again, Evil X just knows it.

Xisuma leaves the fight unscathed. Gemini isn't nearly so lucky.

---

The next super villain he meets is mostly on accident, a random encounter more than anything. Tired of lounging about all day, if you call making connections and surfing the internet doing fuck all, Evil X decides he hates himself a bit more than he usually does and decides to go job hunting. A quick internet search later and he finds himself standing outside an abandoned warehouse on the North docks. He and his brother never had much more than their birth certificates and social security numbers to their name, so shady suited him perfectly fine.

A man steps out from behind a corner dressed in a hospital mask, black pea-coat, and a sailor's breton cap as white as his hair. Evil X freezes, eyes going wide as the familiar-looking stranger goes bug-eyed to see him right back. Then the man shifts his weight to his back foot, crossing his arms and wincing playfully, very real trepidation lurking in his posture.

"Uh, you wouldn't happen to by Matchstick's brother, would you?" Evil X takes a careful step away from the man, who he now recognizes as Zyon from watching the news, one of Xisuma's more common foes. His own research proved that the fellow had ice powers to put an iceberg to shame, which was ironic considering that he was secretly the business mogul Etho, who ran a shipping company helpfully named "Titanic Inc." It was doubly ironic since "Zyon" was notorious for causing problems for "Etho," who then claimed the insurance payouts when the boats eventually sank.

That the boats that sank frequently carried weapons, junk food made with GMO ingredients, and weirdly enough, socks, was of little consequence to him, but he kept that amusing tidbit in his back pocket for later. (The sailors on board were... collateral. And a nonissue. Anyone who signed up on a ship run by "Titanic Inc." deserved what they got.)

(Their deaths were not his concern.)

"Yeah, that's me. And you're Zyon- or rather, Etho." Zyon chuckles nervously.

"Yep yep, that's me. And you're very firmly on the 'no touchie' list around here, so I'm just gonna gooo...." Zyon flinches as Evil X suddenly attaches himself to his wrist, expression steely.

"List?" It's more statement than question, but it has Zyon gulping back a frantic giggle anyway.

"Oh no, I'm not messing with that one. Let's just say you should take that up with your brother and leave it at that. Get too deep into that mess and someone's gonna end up regretting it- and I'm not that dumb, that's for sure!" With that parting remark, Evil X finds his feet frozen to the ground and Zyon running off, dropping the black pea-coat of Etho to reveal the icy blue Kevlar ninja suit of the super villain underneath.

Bemusedly Evil X watches Zyon vault up a stack of pipes onto a nearby roof, then off towards the city where he could better better disappear.

Hmm. Seems like he needs to step up his game.

---

He runs into Ooze at the supermarket. Apparently they both prefer the green grapes to the purple ones. The more you know.

---

It's his encounter with Valkerie that really sets things off.

Xisuma comes home one day, tears streaming down his face and his gloves covered in blood and dust. He crumples in a heap at Evil X's feet where he sits on the couch and drops his face into his twin's lap, trembling. His arms dangle at his sides, blood dripping from his fingers onto the sterile white carpeting.

"Four dead found in a park near here. All teenagers, just having fun. Just. Just fucking kids! She ruptured their ear drums and they bled out because they couldn't move to get to safety. Gods E-X, their eyes... They looked so scared..." Evil X stays quiet and runs his fingers through his brother's hair, heedless of the muck clinging to the ends. Xisuma shakes himself to bits in his hands. "They were just kids. We couldn't do even do anything but clean up the mess afterwards."

Xisuma pauses, hesitant, before choking out- "That could have been us. Had we still been on our own, that could have been us." Ah. So that's it.

"We're safe, you know. Whoever Valkerie is, she won't get us here."

"But we don't know that! What if you're out shopping and she's at the market, or if she gets on the news and her scream works through the TV? What then?! I can't-" The words die in his twin's throat and Evil X gulps back his own.

I can't lose you. It's a phrase that's crossed his own mind more than once.

"Okay. Okay. I'll stay home until she's caught, okay? Get delivery or something, I don't know. And I'll keep the TV off, the radio too. Shhh. Shhhhh. I'll be okay." Xisuma struggles closer, shoving his face into his brother's stomach and getting snot and tears all over the both of them. Evil X doesn't complain. It's a lie and they both know it, but they've lived lies before, are used to it. What's one more, in the face of that?

To be fair, Evil X gives it a few weeks before he makes his move, and he knows he'll be fine so really it's only half a lie anyway.

---

Feet crunch against gravel as Evil X approaches the woman kneeling in the center of the abandoned construction site, hands over her mouth, eyes scrunched, biting the flesh of her thumb to keep her sobs held in.

"Hello Ms. Valkerie. Grian's told me about you."

The woman whips around, eyes wide and bloodshot at his sudden appearance, before she shakily lowers her hands from her mouth to clutch at the fabric of her pink cardigan. "I'm- I'm not some monster, got it? I'm just Stress, j-just- I'm just me! I don't want to hurt anyone!" Her voice goes shrill and thin towards the end and Evil X hides his wince, although apparently not well enough because she immediately slaps a hand over her mouth again, eyes watering anew.

"Okay. It's okay, Stress. I'm here to help," he placates, lowering himself down to sit next to her in the dirt. Around them, rusted I-beams and concrete pillars rise, giving them some semblance of privacy. The full moon lurks overhead, casting them both in a silver glow. "You're life must be very hard, hm?"

Stress nods, expression wary.

"And retail is very- ha- stressful too, I imagine?" Here a little grin leaks out from behind her hand. "All those customers whining on and on about discounts. 'Oh, I have a gift receipt why can't I return this?' Like, lady, you opened this box. 'I'm gonna talk to your manager!' Lady, he's just gonna say the exact same thing."

A stifled giggle and a whispered "Worse! I work in the women's clothing department." Evil X gives a mock gasp, face going wide and shocked.

"So you don't just have to deal with fussy customers- you deal with fussy suburban soccer moms!" Stress tips forward with the force of her muffled laughter, tucking her damp face into the curve of his neck and putting her full weight on him. Hesitantly she clutches the tail of his shirt with her freehand, then a little tighter when he makes no move to shove her off. Evil X just wraps a gentle arm around her shoulders.

"Some of those customers must make you want to go home and just scream, huh." Her laughter tapers off, but she nods, quiet. "So you go somewhere empty and abandoned and scream your heart out so you don't kill someone." Another nod, a little hitch in Stress' breathing. "And you scream and scream, so glad to release some of your pent-up feelings, but oops. It turns out there are people there anyway. And your screaming just killed them. You've become a murderer and the police brands you accordingly."

The hand in his shirt tightens, tugging. "I- I didn't want to hurt them! I didn't want to hurt anyone! But- but it just happened and then I was running, and no one saw me so I had to just go to work the next day, a-and. And-"

"And now you're the wanted super villain Valkerie." His hand smoothes up and down her back as her breath hitches again, once, twice, and then wetness against his neck.

"Valkerie is such a stupid name, anyway. I'm not escorting anyone anywhere, let alone to Valhalla. I just scream and. And they're dead."

Evil X hums quietly. "You must be very tired."

"...Yes. Yes." The moon slips through the sky for a while and they drift with it, lost in thought. Evil X stares up at it, squinting against its light to try and figure out what time it is, if Xisuma is likely to be home yet. The gravel is harsh against his knees.

Then. "Things can't keep going like this. I'm so tired, all the time these days. It's just work, day in and day out, and all this stress." She pulls away then and Evil X watches as Stress scrubs at her face, expression going cold and determined. She stares him straight in the eyes, but something about her still seems lost, like she's gazing through him. "Something has to change or else someone is going to get themselves killed."

He tilts his eyes head, considering, thoughtful, with a well-hidden edge to his voice.

"I think I could help with that."

---

The morning news. Four calls placed, a frantic brother reassured, Stress is sitting a cafe on the corner of Elm and 5th. Her gut flutters with nerves but Evil X can see her expression is calm from her position in the background of the shot. The news anchor is a pretty blond-haired, blue-eyed young woman blathering on about how the cafe apparently is the oldest one in the city and some other historical nonsense. Out of shot of the camera, a desperate, dog-eared petty thief is running for his life down 6th street, the hulking figure of Spatter hot on his heels.

They round a corner, onto 5th. Past the cafe, the startled reporter, the public shrieking as their morning is disrupted. Stress nearly throws up as her heart launches itself into her throat but she's... There's a plan and she's going to stick to it.

So she stands up, small and in the background of the shot, but her bright pink jacket makes her stand out. She opens her mouth, expression going scared like a civilian's, and screams just as she had been told to. It's not for long, barely a second or two all told, but it's enough to have the people near her cringing away, blood trickling from their eyes and from where their fingernails dig into their skin in trying to cover their ears.

Spatter freezes in his tracks, pupils mere pinpricks as the sudden outpouring of blood triggers something deep and wild in him. The camera shakes, the frightened camera man ducking down to avoid notice but carefully recording what's about to happen, as if sensing that whatever happens next is about to be important.

The hero turns towards Stress, eyes wild, and although she's scared out of her mind, she stands her ground. Her voice barely even shakes as she speaks.

"S-stop. Stop running, can't you see you're scaring people? You nearly ran me over!" In the eyes of the camera Stress looks like a frightened civilian gone civil defender in pink, the morning light casting her in gold and the cafe's shadow creeping over Spatter's massive, muscled-out form to cast him in darkness and grey. The lack of harsh lighting makes it even more obvious when he starts sniffing the air, darting eyes pausing on all the bloodied hands and finally resting on the woman who caused the damage.

The world has insisted, long and loud, that he is a hero and with that comes certain ingrained responsibilities. Stress is Valkerie. Splatter fixes his gaze on her and with a snarl, he moves.

The camera catches it in perfect, awful clarity when his arm goes through her stomach and her blood starts pooling on the floor. Her expression is so betrayed.

From his place on his clean, white couch at home, Evil X turns the TV off.

---

Stress is buried with honors and all media depictions of Valkerie as a monster cease as the streets are made "safe" from the super villain. Instead, news programs and talk shows take up a new crusade, this one against the "heroes" that protected the city and the governing bodies that controlled their movements. Mr. Goodtimes has his name dragged through the mud, and each day his brother comes home with stories about how frazzled Trigometric is, Evil X has to hide his smile.

Seeming to pick up on the way things are turning, Clockwork disappears from the public eye while Poultryman steps up the showmanship, making more appearances in public spaces to egg government buildings and steal petty amounts of scrap metal from junk yards and factory scrap heaps. The heroes that give chase, usually Xenon and Krypton, end up causing more damage than they actually prevent.

Ivy-Over- shocked at the public outrage about the apartments left in shambles after her particularly brutal battle against Zyon- rather predictably ends up snapping, although not in any way Evil X expected.

She ends up going to the news and telling them everything. Public outrage rises anew.

There's a riot in town square and Matchstick and Reaper are sent in to stop it. Thirteen people die, kindly Mr. TFC one of them. Xisuma comes home, collapses into Evil X's arms, and cries.

Things have to change. And so they do.

---

Midnight and two figures meet on a roof top somewhere overlooking the domed silhouette of city hall. The first wears a set of armor shaded in green and grey, a purple visor over his eyes and an oxygen-filter over the lower half of his face. The second figure has wings, stretched wide to block out the light of the crescent moon above.

Matchstick. Poultryman.

Xisuma. Grian.

Matchstick tilts his head to the side, drawing himself up to his full height to loom over the far shorter villain. "The status quo is falling apart, Poultryman. Does the deal still hold?"

Poultryman rolls his head to make it clear he had just rolled his eyes, the purple insignia on his mask flashing to display his annoyance. "Yeah yeah, I've spread the word to the others and they're not as crazy as the news likes to make 'em out to be. No one has hurt your precious 'E-X,' nor do they have any plans to. Too much trouble to mess with beyond trying to keep him out of whatever crime scene we'll be making, and that's hard enough as is. Your brother has a habit of making himself hard to track and it's getting... troubling."

The hero's posture suddenly goes as stiff as his namesake, smoke starting to hiss from the vents carefully built into his suit. "Troubling?"

Violet wings flap once, twice, before pulling tight against Poultryman's back and not for the first time, Matchstick curses himself for never bothering to learn what his various wing positions mean. The villain in question just rolls his shoulders back and settles into a careful parade rest that gives nothing away, expression pensive.

"Xisuma..." Matchstick flinches back, the careful line between them wavering at the name. "What exactly do you about your brother?"

A hesitant head tilt and he taps his fingers along his leg, thinking back to when he had last spent more than a few fleeting hours with his twin at a time.

"He likes sweet foods, even if he pretends he doesn't. Has more money invested in Derp Coin than he probably should. Likes red and black but gets fussy if anyone calls him a goth. Never seems to sleep, or eat regular meals, but he never seems to forget anything either. Best brother I could ever ask for- he loves me, I know that for sure. All the important stuff. Why?"

A wisp of cloud drifts overhead, casting a brief shadow over the pair, and in the sudden darkness Matchstick could swear that Poultryman had pulled a frown. Then the moment passes and the villain is back to his usual inscrutable self, the only emotion in his body language being what he had put there intentionally. His wings remain tight to his back.

"Then I think you might be in for a bit of a surprise one day, Matchstick. Here's to hoping you can roll with the coming storm."

---

Evil X is beloved by the HEP network. Regardless of Grian's intention in putting him in contact with them- or even why the villain knew of the group to start with- his repeated contributions to their food stocks made him an opening among them and his ability to make and exploit connections made him their hero. If you were desperate, hungry, in need? Evil X could get you whatever you needed at the cost of a simple favor.

When it came to the price of a life, a favor is a small thing to ask indeed. Is it any wonder that they became so loyal to him? So when Evil X began asking questions about some of the city's more sensitive secrets and its shadier underbelly, it was only natural that they told him.

From the tall man with green skin, he learned the best places to dump things so that they disappeared. From a sleepy-looking fellow with a bandana, he learned the locations of the best drug dealers, and from those dealers he learned of their suppliers, their manufacturers, the places where heroes never walked. From the man with glasses, he learned about the back doors and hidden routes through the biggest, most important buildings, the places where they held people until they could make them disappear.

And with this information, Evil X's services expanded even further. Drugs for the addicts, as contaminant-free and trust-worthy as he could find them. Ways to make people appear and disappear in the eyes of the law (and the occasional abusive spouse). Alcohol, cigarettes- and most importantly, information.

Or rather, black mail. If you wanted to know something on someone, Evil X became the person to go to. Months of careful manipulation had spread his name and his reach through all levels of the city and people from all walks of life took advantage of her services, although usually all meetings were held over the phone and through a voice changer fashioned to look just like his twin's mask. The secrecy only increased his popularity, as people just love a good mystery and a grey-shaded crime boss made a lovely story indeed.

And soon, this caught the intention of another of the city's fabled figures- the mad scientist who lived deep in the underbelly of the city, a place where no light shone. The man, the myth, the legend... Void.

But then, myths never were all that accurate, especially with things like names.

---

Curly blond hair, brown cardigan, a ripped white lab coat. Calculating purple eyes and a wide, wide eerily white grin. Short and stocky with a complexion like a ripe peach, the blue light coming off the lights overhead casting hazy shadows over his form, everything about the good doctor is simultaneously creepy and a soft sort of handsome- he has to say, he's impressed. The mythical Zedaph lives up to the city's dark rumors of him and he says as much, which prompts that grin to grow all the wider.

"Ah, hello Weaver! Y'know, I kind of thought you'd be shorter. And down here a lot sooner, I almost could say I missed you~!" Evil X balks as the scientist steps forward and grips his chin to tilt his head down, purple eyes wandering over his scarred features.

"It's not like you make yourself easy to find- and that's not my name." Zedaph shakes his head, leaning his face up with just scant inches between them.

"Little spider, you might be pretty good at hearing things but you're awful at listening. If you have large enough ears, you'd find you're just about the most talked about thing in the underground these days-"

"Do spiders have ears...?"

"-so like it or not, your web is big enough that people have been spotting it in odd places, which means your twin will probably catch on soon. Which means..." Here Zedpah spins away to walk to the opposite wall, pressing a few buttons on his tablet which make the underground laboratory brighten considerably. Evil X tries not to feel bereft at the sudden loss of contact. "Your plans are gonna have to hit double time. And I love me a good speed potion!"

Speechless, Evil X just nods as the scientist opens a previously hidden door and pulls out a laptop case from inside, turning to present it to him with a fiercely proud expression on his face.

"Knock 'em dead darling. I can't wait to see you rock their world~!"

---

What does the end of an era look like? It's not a sudden collapse of civilization, people screaming and running through the streets. It's not the violent murder of the governmental leaders or riots against the past order. It's not as clear cut as all that. Nor is it so subtle that people look around one day and go huh, as the world around them had shifted beneath their feet without their notice. Indeed, there are many who saw the tide rising and were all too happy to watch the waters sweep in and away.

It goes like this.

The super villains go missing. First one week goes by with no wild scheme or dangerous incident, then two, then three. The higher ups are frantic with worry, running constant meetings and keeping the super heroes out on the streets for as long as they could without the heroes themselves rioting. It keeps Matchstick out of the way of Weaver, and at the moment, that's all the thought he can afford to spare his twin. It's for the best, really. The next step is important.

Across every government-issued computer in the city, an email is issued out. Personalized, first middle last name, parents' names, chidlrens' names. An alphabetical list of every law the person in question had broken in the last ten years, the number of witnesses who saw them do it, sometimes video footage or photo-copied documents if the crime was serious enough to warrant more concrete proof. What the punishments for those crimes would be. What could be done, if those punishments were waived for money or fame.

Nearly a thousand people get an email in the span of 24 hours. (Evil X never wants to write another email ever-fucking-again. None. Ever.) The heroes also receive an email detailing what laws were broken by denying them rights, food, decent living conditions and overtime pay, as well as the names of several lawyers who would work for them for free if the email was shown to them within three days time.

Every email is emblazoned with a web-like logo with a bright red "X" sitting in the middle like a bloody spider. Though some plucky tech people attempt to track the emails back to the sender, their every attempt is rebuffed by the impossible firewalls built into the computer the messages were sent from. As imagined, chaos in its most understated form ensues.

The city officials scramble to keep their sinking ship from falling apart and the little people kept cooped up in square offices and cell blocks come crawling out of the woodwork to jump ship. Some of the heroes, such as Xenon, Matchstick, and Shank try desperately to hold things together, but others like Reaper head for the nearest legal office and hole up with a team of vicious prosecutor attorneys. Meanwhile, the civilians go about their business, unaware of what is going on in the ivory towers far above their notice.

Xisuma comes home to fin their apartment empty, and although betrayal sits like a rock in his gut, his guts still squirm with desperate, aching fear. (No... please, no.)

The super villains make their reappearance with flair, setting the stage for the next act. Each one takes to a corner of the city, working in pairs to capture civilians and hold them hostage en mass, their efforts to wide spread for the remaining heroes to deal with in one go. From here, walking along a quiet street and watched by hundreds of frightened eyes- a captive audience- Weaver makes his debut as he makes his way to the city capital.

Tall, whip-thin enough to make his proportions lean more towards slenderman than super model, and dressed in red and black armor with a matching helmet and visor, Weaver cuts an imposing figure as he makes his way up the white marble steps of the capital building to where a nervous-looking reporter stands. She straightens up at his approach though and with a nod to her camera crew, she starts asking questions just in time for Poultryman to swoop in and land beside the newest super villain, expression stern but a clear presence of support.

In his hands a laptop is clutched.

---

The demands are simple in theory, but Xisuma feels his heart thunder in his throat at every point on the list.

The week would be split into three types of days. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays would proceed as normal and the heroes and villains could go at each other as they pleased. Fridays would be reserved for the villains to do as necessary without hero interference under the caveat that no blood would be spilled, and Sundays heroes could have the same. Tuesdays and Saturdays, no one would fight, a proper break for everyone.

The villains would keep to their side of the bargain, Weaver says darkly as he stares directly into camera, just so long as the heroes kept to theirs. And measures would be taken for anyone who chose not to comply. Xisuma's brain goes fuzzy with static as the super villain makes a few other demands, something about fair wages and from when to when each group could operate, but his gaze remains locked to where he can just barely make out his twin's face through his visor. The words filter through him, dismissed into a soft numbing blur.

The air suddenly feels chilled on his skin, fingers twitching in his lap, a rough, twisting feeling in his gut like the bottom of his stomach just dropped away. He feels trapped, unable to move from the couch, from the wrong side of the screen. Oh, he thinks hazily to himself, he's about to be sick. Hmm, ought to do- something. About all of- of this.

Gods... What did his brother do?

---

An era ends like this- Poultryman sweeps Weaver away in his arms and in his place, Evil X comes home. Xisuma watches his brother come through the door, eyes glued to his brother's face even as Evil X places his keys on the table by the door and takes off his shoes. There's a gentle realization bubbling up that this is the first time he's seen his brother's bare face with his own eyes, without the tint of a visor between them, in far too long. His twin's got paler as of late, making the eye bags and scars stand out all the more.

"You're home." The words hang in the air and Evil X sags at their weight, leaning against the door as if to prop himself up for the conversation to come. His arms hang behind his back, a laptop case dangling in his grip.

"You know this isn't home any more than the tree was."

"We- we were supposed to be safe here. This was where we were going to stay!" Xisuma is going red now, rising up from the couch in his anger, and Evil X watches him with the dredged-up calm of a man resigned to drowning. Good, anger he could handle.

"You thought this was where we would stay, got us a nice, normal apartment that looks like it's out of a fashion plate without asking me. You think I like staying in this pretty white bird cage that you bought by selling yourself to the most corrupt people around? This place isn't any safer for us than the tree was, and at least in the park we had company!"

"Says the one who fell into bed with the literal bad guy! At least here you weren't getting into fights every other week."

"No, now you're the one doing that!" They're shouting at each other. They never do that. An acrid taste fills Evil X's mouth and he gulps it back, along with a few words he just knows he would regret if he said them. A deep breath, a slow in and out. "Look, just. Don't be a hypocrite, okay?"

Xisuma pauses in his wind up for a proper tirade, eyes wary and wet. "What?"

"You aren't the only self sacrificing moron here."

"...Oh." Yeah. Oh.

Here Evil X takes another breath, resisting the urge to hold it, then extends his arm to show his twin the laptop case. "Hey."

Xisuma folds his arms behind his back, looking at his feet and then up again, shuffling back a step. "Yeah?"

"Got you a present. You always were the best of us, so. Here. It was the last part of the deal I kinda set up, a kind of fail-safe slash card to add to your deck. This laptop has evidence of my entire operation, every backroom deal, every piece of black mail, every person I've had killed or vanished or what have you. Everything I've been up to for the last however long. And... it's for you to read. It's not gonna be fun, but like, I trust you so it's okay. If you read this and really, honestly think I've crossed a line you can't forgive me for, you can turn this into the police and... I'll deal with whatever you choose to do with me. No loop holes, no take-backs."

Here Evil X leans his full weight against the door and lets his arm swing back down to his side, gaze sliding off to the side and a melancholy smile curling at his lips and pulling at his scars. "I trust you. I trust you. It... It'll be okay, yeah? Just make whatever choice you need to. Don't hesitate." He doesn't promise anything, keeps the words 'I'll be okay' from spilling into the air between them, but instead allows a careful submission to enter his posture, head bowed and figure loose and hanging.

It... might not be alright, but it will be right and that will have to be good enough. (It has to be.)

Xisuma chokes, a sob rising in his throat as his brave, strong brother gives up before his eyes. The air in his lungs freezes solid at the thought of having to choose whether or not his twin lives or dies, because that's what this is, he can't pretend that the city wouldn't execute him at the slightest chance, agreements be damned. His gaze tracks wildly from the laptop case to the top of his brother's head to the window, as if trying to see if anyone could be watching, could make the choice for him.

It's not fair. It's not fair, why him, why? He was so good, tried so hard- his heart is loud in his ears, breath rattling in and out in wheezing gasps- sobbing now, utterly sobbing. Evil X doesn't look up, doesn't try to comfort him. Won't even move, gods.

Fuck it.

Evil X startles, back banging against the door as Xisuma rushes forward and rips the case from his hands, only to chuck it into the far corner before throwing himself into his arms. On instinct Evil X catches him and holds him close just in time for Xisuma to bury his face in the crook of his neck and burst into messy, tearful sobs. They shake together and Evil X lets his head thump back gently against the door, eyes hazily gazing up at the ceiling.

"It's not- *hic*- it's not fair! I didn't want this!"

"I know. I know." He runs his hand over his twin's back, his taller form bowing forward to shelter his brother's smaller one. Somehow, even now it feels like Xisuma is the larger one between them, solid and warm in his arms.

"Why do I have to choose? I never wanted this! Why?! Why would you do this for me?"

"You're my brother. I love you." A gasping, wet sob against his neck and his twin lets out a moan like a dying cow, low and agonized. Evil X focuses on a soot mark on the white ceiling, tears stinging his eyes and running down his face to plop softly into his brother's hair.

"But why?!" Screaming. Gods, he can't-

"I love you. I love you." Rocking now, back and forth, gentle, just as he had when he had come home from beating up the men who had tried to lay stomp out his brother's heart, scarred and beaten and bloody. I love you, he had said then, and he repeats it now.

Later, much later, Xisuma will have to boot up the laptop and read through its contents. He will try to burn it, first, but Zedaph's work is more durable than most and Evil X will watch as his twin will dump his emotions into his flames, desperately trying to stoke them hotter and brighter. Later, a choice will have to be made.

But for now, Evil X will hold his brother, warm and safe, and let him cry.

#minecraft #my writing #fanfiction #hermitcraft #xisuma #evil xisuma #evil x #pretty much all the hermits actually

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