Chapter 1: The House of the Rising Sun
Chapter Text
It took a while for everyone to calm down after Grian’s declaration.
Scar was still shivering, the sensation of stone crawling up him and the seeping cold of the icy cavern stubbornly sticking to his bones even in the midday sunshine of a new server.
Gem settled on one side of him as they sat in their impromptu circle, Pearl talking quietly with Jimmy on his other side. Grian was still staring into the distance, eyes glowing purple and fingers twitching as he fought the world’s code. He’d been at it since his determined speech ten minutes ago, and Scott had only sighed before saying it might take a few minutes and they should sit for a while.
Their friendly deity had helped Grian run through the normal checks before the avian had focused on their additions, could they kick anyone? Could they get a message out? Could they do anything? Scar just hated they had normal checks.
They were on a round island, surrounded by a river on all sides, nothing marking the area apart from some grass, flowers, and hastily crafted wooden slabs as impromptu seats. None of them moved from the circle. It was a tradition by this point, an oddly comforting one.
Scar was still reeling from everything that had happened. He’d been happy on pirates, then some god had taken control and stolen him and others, locking them in a stone prison. The actual fight after he broke from his petrification was kind of blurry, though Gem had murmured a quiet explanation when he’d asked.
They were in another game.
Their sixth one, not counting Grian’s single day fun one which Scar couldn’t in good conscious compare to the Watcher’s reign of terror nor this new god’s idea of imprisonment.
Just when he thought they might actually be free, here they were again.
At least this time they all had their memories, and all knew about everyone having their memories. There would be no repeats of the last proper game here, thank you very much.
Grian jolted from his position, the last of the group standing, eyes dimming as he wobbled unsteadily. Scar was reaching out in an instant, steadying him awkwardly from his sitting position. Good thing Grian was pretty short – not that he’d ever dare say that to his face (or at least not seriously in this kind of situation).
“You back with us Gri?” Pearl asked gently as they guided Grian to sit, the avian squeezing in between Scar and Pearl. They both could have shuffled to the side to provide more space but neither of them moved, all happy with the physical comfort – a silent reassurance that they were at least together.
“Yeah.” Grian mumbled, rubbing his face as if to wipe sleep from his eyes, “Yeah, I’m back.”
“What did you do?” Lizzie asked, leaning forward, eyes alight with curiosity. She would have toppled forward onto her face if Joel hadn’t put a steadying hand on her shoulder to guide her back to the ground, a fond expression on his face at his wife’s curiosity.
A wicked smile graced Grian’s face and Scar was just glad it wasn’t directed at him. “Adesh put us in the most basic game he could, no pizzaz, no fun, no nothing.”
“And you decided to mess with that?” Impulse raised a pointed eyebrow, a resigned look already on his face.
Grian shrugged, “The jerk wants order, well he ain’t going to get it. Welcome everyone to Wild life!”
“Grian!” Mumbo threw his hands up in frustration but they all saw the fond smile flicker across his moustached face.
“It’s a bit rough but I’ve added what I’m calling a wild card for each week. Something to add some chaos. I’ll need to tweak them as we go along but it should work.” Grian explained, bouncing slightly as he got more excited. Scar just chuckled lowly, glad to see someone in good spirits considering the situation.
And talking of the situation. Now that Grian had mentioned his alterations, Scar could almost see them. Just below the fiery border that carved out their world and prison, a layer of purple thrummed, much friendlier, more mischievous. It felt oddly like the game Grian had run, which made sense he guessed. Hopefully this one wouldn’t tire the avian out nearly as much though.
“Oh, and I’ve made it so we all have six lives!” Grian added to the fondly exasperated group, some of the horror of being in another game getting dampened by the knowledge one of their own was semi in control of it. “If you’re yellow, then you can kill a dark green player to get a life back, otherwise it’s just the weekly wildcard.”
“You’re insane.” Joel sighed shaking his head. Scar resisted the urge to snap back that none of them were any better, and at least Grian was doing something.
Scott beat him to it, the cyan haired deity much calmer however as he shrugged lazily, “I don’t know, this sounds like the kinda thing Adesh would hate. I say we do it, have some fun, make this game ours.”
Martyn snorted, “Maybe we can annoy him into setting us free early.” Scar chuckled at that alongside the rest of the group, earlier anger disappearing. Joel hadn’t meant anything by it, they were all just tense.
Scar needed to remember that and not the feeling of being the last one alive pressing that button repeatedly in the last game.
“So, what’s the game plan?” Tango asked, looking around the circle, “We just play the game?”
Scott, Pearl, Martyn, and Grain all shared a long look at that. It took Scar a second to remember that had basically been the plan for all the other games, the past winners stuck remembering and suffering in silence. Frantically trying to come up with a plan, any plan.
“What about the others?” Gem asked, “Kristin and Dan didn’t get everyone out. What happens to those left with Adesh?”
Scar bit his lip, eyes scanning the group who all shuffled looking as uncomfortable as he felt. He hadn’t seen how many people had been left, but anyone was too many.
“There’s nothing we can do for them right now.” Scott sighed, announcing the hard truth, “We have to look after ourselves and trust those that did get out to help the others.”
“So, we play the game?” Ren’s ears were pulled back, sunglasses perched on the top of his head.
“We play the game, have some fun.” Grian nodded, a new determination cresting his brow. “Like Scott said we make it our own, show Adesh he can’t do anything to us. And we either annoy him into letting us go early or …” He trailed off, tense silence lingering as they remembered how poorly fighting a god had gone last time.
“We cross that bridge when we come to it.” Pearl nodded, cutting in before the silence could linger too long.
“Exactly.” Grian agreed, shuffling to his feet as the rest of the group failed. Scar happily took Gem’s offered hand to help him back to wobbly feet. “So, is everyone ready?”
A round of nods and shuffling feet broke out as Grian took on a wicked grin, “Alright, that’s it, go!”
Chaos broke out immediately. The circle broke and Scar leapt into a quickly crafted boat, pulling at the oars but not moving from the island as he heard shouting from behind him, Jimmy leaping into the boat behind him.
He sets his eyes on the bamboo, ideas already whirling in his head. He rowed as fast as he could, “They’re going to get it!” He called to Jimmy as he spotted Grian and Etho together in a boat up ahead, and BigB on his own.
“They want the bamboo!” Grian realised laughing, changing course to aim for the plant, “Etho I’ll get the bamboo!” the avian jumped ashore already punching before Scar could swing his boat around.
He had no doubt, Grian had absolutely no desire for the bamboo apart from it being funny stopping Scar and Jimmy from getting it. “No! Get it Jimmy, get it!” He punched from the boat as Jimmy leaps out. He was laughing as they managed to get some, ending up in another battle for sugar cane and then boat warfare with the pair breaking their boat and leaving them on land.
They were laughing though, happy in their odd success, setting their eyes onto the ominous large pit opening up into caves deep below. Surely that was a good idea to gather resources – no food, no torches, no weapons or armour. What could go wrong?
Five minutes in, and it was already wild.
Adesh had no idea what he’d invertedly created.
Pearl had seen the chaos of the boats and decided to swim instead, jumping onto land and immediately punching at the closest trees.
“Don’t kill the cow!” She shouted to Scott; Impulse and Tango following her, repeating the same for the chicken they spotted. They made that mistake every time, killing all the livestock and leaving them struggling for food, Pearl didn’t want to continue the trend – one couldn’t say she didn’t learn from her past.
Wood acquired, animal death averted, they ended up digging down, joining Cleo already mining away to get the basics. “Hole buddies!” Pearl declared cheerfully, the other four echoing her with various levels of enthusiasm. Mining alongside each other.
“So, here’s the question, what’s the twist?” Cleo asked in the hubbub. What crazy twist had Grian thought up in the ten minutes he’d had?
As if the universe (or rather Grian) had heard, a message appeared on their communicators – a wild card was active.
“Oh, there it is, there’s your answer.” Pearl chuckled, trying to get that last bit of stone.
“Witch!” Scott jokingly shouted, the others escaping back up the four blocks to the surface. Likely to get a better idea of whatever had just changed in the game.
Pearl followed them up after a moment, double checking the message, “So it doesn’t tell us.” She mused, of course it wouldn’t. That would be too easy and that was not Grian’s style, especially not when he was in mischief mode like this.
“We have to discover it ourselves then.” Impulse hummed as he cut down a tree, Pearl cutting in to the same tree.
“I just have images of creepers falling from the sky.” Cleo sighed and Pearl wanted to argue against it but that is exactly the kind of thing Grian would do, cackling the whole time. She glanced up at the sky apprehensively, squinting but unable to see any shapes falling towards them for now.
“Why am I a block and a half?” Scott called as he struggled to duck under a low tree.
“You’re feeling it too, right!” Pearl felt vindicated, frowning at another tree, she was definitely bigger than normal.
“Maybe we’re just a bit too tall and that’s the wild card?” Scott suggested, cogs visibly turning in his head.
“But it’s not always.” Pearl hummed, not sure that was enough for Grian. Then her gaze landed on Impulse, eyes widening as the other Hermit was significantly bigger, “Impulse is huge!”
“I want to be a big boy!” Tango squeaked snickering as Impulse chuckled, sound coming out lower than normal reflecting his massive size - he was taller than the tree now.
Scott crossed his arms assessing their little group in the forest, “So what makes you grow?” He jumped a few times and Pearl shared a grin with Cleo, both laughing at their former teammate who looked ridiculous jumping on the spot.
“Wait,” Scott stopped, proud smile striking across his face, “Is it if you jump you get taller and crouch you get smaller?”
Pearl slightly regretted the teasing as she immediately started jumping alongside the rest of the group, then switching to crouching. She hoped no one came across them in the forest clearing of their own creation – they looked undoubtedly ridiculous.
But it was working.
“Oh, it is!” She cheered, mentally making a note to go annoy Grian at some point. She wondered if he’d pulled himself away from Scar yet, she knew how much his disappearance had bothered her brother. She hadn’t taken too well to seeing him break free from his stone prison and collapse in Grian’s arms either. “How small can I get?” She wondered, crouching as she shrunk.
She got tinier and tinier. Smaller than normal, than smaller than a block, then half a block.
They were tiny! And their voices matched, a lot squeakier but still understandable.
“Impulse, tell us a story!” Tango squeaked, all of them breaking down into giggles in their impromptu circle, Impulse the tallest of the bunch.
“We’re so fast!” Scott laughed, whizzing around which of course meant the rest of them started running.
Pearl matched his laugh as she ran, wind whistling past her ears and hair trailing behind her. They were absolutely faster.
“We need to go terrorise people.”
“Absolutely!”
“Let’s find people!” Pearl and Cleo replied in an instant. Girl boss, Gaslight and Gatekeep sharing a mischief grin in their reunion. Pearl caught Impulse and Tango’s slightly warily look even if the two were still grinning, happy to join in on any chaos.
Pearl let herself laugh as they took off through the forest to find other people. Let herself enjoy the moment. Enjoy spending time with her friends. Enjoy playing the game.
She’d think she’d go crazy otherwise.
They were all very careful not to mention the reality of their situation, throwing themselves into the game instead. Forget that two hours ago they had been on a desperate rescue mission.
That they had just been thrown into a sixth game.
Pearl was trying very hard not to think about those outside the game or any of the implications. She’d interrogate Scott later, for now she’d enjoy the beginning.
It was rare they stayed friendly and happy for long after all.
She was brought back to focus as she failed to parkour onto a tree, pouting and complaining as the others teased her. She joined in on the laughter when Tango quickly followed in failing the jump, the group diving in the nearby pond instead to make their way round.
It turned out to be hard to get out of the water when you were small. And hard to climb blocks, growing slightly with every jump. Still, they continued on, tumbling and chatting through the seemingly never-ending forest in search of others.
Pearl spotted a dog, grinning at the wolf darting through the shrubbery, “Doggy! I like dogs, you know?”
“No!” Cleo drawled, full of sarcasm, rolling her eyes with a grin on her face, “We didn’t know!”
“We know.” Impulse muttered at the same time. Pearl mourned her lack of bones, her inventory overall lacking outside basic stone tools and some wood. Later, she’d get a dog later.
They reached a hill, quickly agreeing to scale it to get a better view point of their surroundings.
“How big can we get?” Pearl asked half to the group and half to herself. She paused her climbing, jumping in place half up the hill as the others continued climbing around her.
She mostly ignored Scott’s suggestion to go terrorise Jimmy in the distance, curious to see how much she could grow and also not wanting to see the PDA after the two boyfriends reunited for the first time in months (outside of their meeting at the start where they’d shared gooey eyes).
Some how they ended up scattering slightly, Pearl shrinking back down tiny as she found a small cave, deciding to investigate further. She grinned happily as she found some coal, eagerly gathering it in preparation for the night to come and all the food she’d have to cook if she kept running and jumping so much.
“I need to start socialising again.” She muttered as she caught herself mumbling to herself, turning to go deeper into the cave anyway.
Her eyes widened at the shear drop she found, peering into the massive spiked cave below her. “Woah, that’s a big hole.”
She snuck a little closer, misunderstanding the distance with her tiny size, barely getting the chance to scream as she fell. The fall was so much further when one was so tiny.
And all the more deadly.
She respawned on the starting island, still small, and half hidden behind an azalea bush. She groaned, hiding her burning face in her hands as she spotted people on the nearby shore.
“Oh, uh.” She mumbled, “Well, that’s just awkward. Oh, uh.” She could already hear her communicator blowing up with the server chat, everyone undoubtedly seeing her little accident.
Well, she was never going to live that down.
What a great start.
Jimmy was getting back into the rhythm of a new server.
A new game.
The wild card admittedly made things more challenging. He’d laughed and played along with the others when they’d first worked it out but as the week went on, the more he realised how devious it was. Everything was just that little bit trickier and that was without mentioning what a nightmare it was to try and get out of water.
Grian certainly knew how to add a twist to a server, but that was hardly news to Jimmy who’d lived on the admin’s first server – and seen how it had all ended.
Talking of the bird.
Jimmy had been mining and collecting food, trying to beat the inevitable hunger that always crept up on them and already failing. A swim up the river in search of fish led him to a section of land alongside the river where Tango was cutting trees and chatting with Scar.
He surfaced and joined the pair just as a tiny Grian rocked up on a horse, looking incredibly comical on the tall mammal.
“Grian!” Scar immediately turned to the man with a grin, sensing his arrival without even seeing it. Jimmy just shook his head fondly; the weird innate sense the pair had for each other was not new – they’d all observed it since the last major game and largely written it off as their close friendship.
He shimmied closer, eager to get in on the fun and see what his teammate was planning to ask the admin. “How many lives do I have?”
Tango had joined them, chuckling at the question as Grian blinked at the other man, taking in the question before he shook his head fondly.
“Well, you started on six and you died once.” Grian teased, making the group chuckle.
“So, six minus 1 is what?” Jimmy added in, enjoying the joking being directed at someone else. He knew with Grian present it would change in his direction all too soon – not that he was actually bothered by it, Grian knew which lines not to cross. They all did.
Scar took the teasing well, trying to explain about the dark green name not changing having confused him and deciding it a secret that the group must keep. Grian ruined that idea quickly by reminding him everyone had seen him die in the world chat, though he did add people would likely forget.
Tango went back to cutting his trees after the joking was done and Scar waved a goodbye to Jimmy, mentioning something about getting supplies for their base which Jimmy was all too happy to leave in the Hermit’s capable hands.
Jimmy turned back to the closest tree, planning to get some more wood for torches for his next mining trip only to be startled by a tiny Grian riding the black speckled horse running up in front of him.
“Ah, Gri!” He startled back, having presumed the avian had already left.
“Having fun, Tim?” Grian grinned, knowing exactly what he’d done.
Jimmy just rolled his eyes fondly, stepping past him to swing at the tree. “You’re a devious man. This wild card is subtly annoying.”
“Oh, just you wait, you haven’t seen anything yet.” Jimmy didn’t need to see the mischievous grin to know it was there. He also didn’t need Grian’s words to know the man had planned pure chaos for the future – he was mischievous and petty enough for that to be a given.
He was however, noticeably hovering. Jimmy stopped his swings to turn fully to his friend with a frown, “Can I help you with something?” Grian obviously wanted something for him to be hanging around so quietly and the dip of his smile answered the question quickly.
“Your wings.” Grian admitted with a nod to the yellow appendages hanging slightly awkwardly behind him.
They had certainly added to his difficulties with the size changing wild card, his new limbs changing with the rest of his body but always hanging awkwardly there as a reminder of his recent changes and their failure.
He looked behind at them, the appendages moving with his body, “What about them?” He turned back to Grian, figuring out what the avian meant the moment he spotted Grian’s colourful wings careful bound to his back. “Oh, they need to be bound, don’t they?” He grimaced a bit at the idea, something in his head rebelling at the idea of tying the things down.
It wasn’t like he could really use them, he hadn’t even flown properly yet, just glided once or twice under Phil and Grian’s careful instructions (and endless good-natured teasing), but it wasn’t a fair advantage to have in the games. And they may be going for chaos and mischief, but they did try to be fair, at least amongst themselves.
Grian nodded, shoulders slumping and looking as happy about it as Jimmy felt. “I can teach you like Philza once taught me.” He shimmied off the horse, letting it wonder off, and jumping so he could grow closer to Jimmy’s height – which he thinks was about normal; he’d really started to lose track of what normal was.
“Does … does it hurt?” He asked quietly, dutifully sitting as Grian guided him to a softer patch of grass and stepped behind him, pulling some rope from deep in his inventory.
“If it does, I’ve done it wrong and you need to let me know right away.” Grian declared, holding out the rope to let Jimmy feel just how silky soft it was. “It will feel weird at first, and I’m going to be completely honest – you’re going to hate the feeling of them being bound.”
“But it’s needed.” Jimmy muttered, resigning himself to it and already trying to dampen the screeching protests in the back of his mind as Grian got to work manoeuvring his new limbs with practised and gentle hands.
“I’ve not really done it for many people before, and I can talk you through how to do it for yourself during the break at the end of the week.” Grian explained as he worked, “And you should keep them unbound during the rest, give them a break and stretch them. They’re so new I don’t want to test things.”
“It’s okay Gri.” Jimmy murmured quietly, feeling the tension in the other’s hands even as he never pulled too harshly.
As much as the other tried to hide it behind smiles and jokes, Jimmy knew his friend well enough to see the burning anger and despair lurking in the back of those eyes. He hated that they’d ended up in another game. Hated that they were trapped once again. Hated how little he could do about it.
Grian didn’t answer him, just humming as he continued his work, “Scott should be able to help as well. He’s lucky he can just hide his wings during these games.”
Jimmy nodded dutifully not having missed the lingering looks on his wings from Scott and Martyn who’d not had a chance to ask about the new appendages. He’d have to explain it to the pair soon, but he wasn’t sure he really could describe it.
“How are you feeling?” He asked gently, turning his head over his shoulder to look at the smaller man as he stepped back to assess his wings. It was easier to focus on Grian then think about the strange sensations of the bindings.
They didn’t hurt they were just … there. A fact he couldn’t ignore.
“What?” Grian muttered, brow furrowing in confusion as he met Jimmy’s gaze.
Jimmy raised a pointed eyebrow, “The last time you tried to run a game it exhausted you after a day.”
Grian shrugged, “I’m not really running this one. Adesh is doing all the hard work, I’m just … tweaking things. Much easier.” Jimmy’s eyebrow raised higher but Grina gave no hints away, he made a mental note to check in with him regularly and to set both Scar and his sister on the avian if needed. When needed.
“Right, how does that feel?” Grian asked, squinting at the bindings Jimmy couldn’t see, “Try stretching them, any discomfort or pain?”
Jimmy did as he was told, already despising the sensation of the limbs being stopped from fully stretching. “No pain or discomfort.” He dutifully reported, “Thanks Grian.”
“Don’t thank me.” Grian snorted before it turned to a sigh, “You’re only going to hate it more as the week goes on. Be careful Jimmy.” And with that he was off, marching swiftly for the horse that had wondered a few meters away and jumping on its back to make his quick escape.
Jimmy just sighed as he sat in the grass, staring at the midday sun.
They were only halfway through the first week.
With another sigh he pulled himself to his feet and got on with it, he wouldn’t get anywhere sitting around after all.
A couple hours later as he struggled to get out of the river that he’d slipped into, a boat rowed itself up next to him. It took a double glance to recognise there was a tiny Cleo rowing the thing and he pumped his fist in victory as he finally escaped the water.
“I don’t even know what normal height is anymore.” He muttered to Cleo who chuckled.
“Yeah, water is a nightmare too.” She nodded in sympathy, “Bye Jimmy!” And with that they rowed back off down the river.
Tilting his head, he decided to follow the river that she’d gone down. He’d not seen that side of the server yet after all. As he stepped into new territory, he heard various voices chattering and almost ran into a smaller than normal Scott.
“Hey Jimmy.” His boyfriend smiled softly, eyes darting to the bound wings on his back but not verbalising the questions in his eyes. “Have you seen our base yet?”
“Hey Scott.” He smiled back, swallowing. It had been weeks since he’d properly seen his boyfriend, since the whole Pirates server was trapped. The battle (if you could call it that) hadn’t really given them a chance to speak.
He followed his cyan haired boyfriend onto the long island, almost barren of trees. A couple of chests and a crafting table took pride of place next to the source of the other voices. Cleo had rejoined her group as she chatted with Impulse and Pearl. Guess that explained the ‘we’ Scott meant.
Scott, Cleo, Pearl, and Impulse. That would be a dangerous team.
He half listened as they pointed out the pale gardens on the hill across the river. Jimmy scanned the new biome, he’d heard the news of its addition but not had a chance to visit with the pirates chaos. Apparently, BigB was taking the chance now as they watched his distant figure run around the dull forest.
“Jimmy.” Scott drawled, fond smirk on his face, “Apparently you have to be small.”
He spluttered, “What, since when was that a rule?” He thought he was perfectly normal sized now thank you very much.
Scott shrugged, “Gem demands it.”
“Gem doesn’t even live here.” Pearl grumbled earning a nudge from the other woman as she and Joel appeared on the island. Another dangerous team that one.
“Well hello, Jimmy Solidarity Empires two.” Joel grinned, as the blonde shrunk, barely towering above him by a head or so but gaining so much entertainment out of him being tiny again.
“I’m growing. I’m growing.” Jimmy laughed as he jumped, trying to match Joel’s size as the group all giggled. Even the Hermits had seen him tiny considering their crossover. It was a nice reminder that this time was different even if it didn’t often feel that way.
They all had their memories and no one had to pretend otherwise.
He joked around with the group more; hearing Impulse outline the vague base plans and nodding along as he tried to sneak through their chests and getting nowhere with so many knowing eyes.
Eventually he couldn’t ignore the weight of the eyes on him any longer. He turned to his boyfriend who’d been watching him with a soft melancholy look that sent a pang through Jimmy’s heart.
“Scott, can we talk?” He muttered quietly to the cyan haired man who nodded quickly.
“Behave you two!” Cleo chuckled as they shouted after them, their quiet move towards the woods not going unnoticed. No one moved to follow them however.
Scott led him into the trees near the island, frowning around as he continued to walk deeper until he was satisfied, turning round to lean against the closest tree. Jimmy couldn’t see what made the area better than anywhere else on the server, but he wasn’t going to say as much with the tension lingering in Scott’s shoulders.
“Hi Jimmy.” He half whispered, eyes scanning him, “The wings are new.”
“Yeah.” Jimmy couldn’t help the look over his shoulder, frown tugging at his lips as the darn limbs tried to move against the bindings but could do very little against the soft rope. “I’m getting used to them.”
It would be nicer to get used to them outside of a trapped server, somewhere he could actually learn to fly, but that was basically a daydream at this point.
“They’re very pretty.” Scott murmured, taking a step away from his tree, eyes locked on the yellow limbs, “Can I?”
Jimmy just nodded, holding a breath as Scott stepped round him and lightly stroked the top of one of them. Jimmy could have shivered with the sensation, a nice one for once.
“Kristin?” He asked and it took Jimmy a second to register what he meant.
He nodded, “Yeah, we tried a new ritual to talk to you and I had to pull on myself I guess, these were the result apparently.”
“They suit you.” Scott declared decisively as his fingers left the wings and Jimmy turned to face him. “My beautiful Canary.”
“Scott …”
“I’m sorry you all got dragged into this.” Scott turned away from him, shoulders slumped.
“It’s not your fault.” He tried but only got a derivative snort from his boyfriend, “It’s not Scott. You were just trying to protect us. You couldn’t have predicted what Adesh was going to do.”
“I should have known.” Scott shook his head, hands fisted in what Jimmy knew was frustration at himself.
“You couldn’t have.” Jimmy pressed earning a long sigh from Scott. “Besides, we’re here now and Grian’s got it under control.”
That earned an odd look from Scott, and Jimmy frowned, “What? What’s that look for?”
Scott shook his head, “Nothing, it’s just … Grian feels different recently. I’m sure it’s nothing, probably just his watcher abilities so close to the surface.” He frowned, “Do you think this will affect him like his game did?”
“I hope not.” Jimmy sighed, “But I’m planning to check on him regularly and Pearl, Scar and Mumbo will likely help.”
“Let me know if you need any help with that.” Scott nodded, “I’m not sure I’ll be much help but I’m willing to try.”
“Thanks.” Jimmy replied sincerely. He knew they would likely need all the help they could get to make Grian see reason if he tried to overexert himself. He glanced at the sun starting to vanish below the trees on the horizon, shadows creeping taller. “I should go.” He muttered hesitantly.
“Yeah.” Scott muttered back looking equally hesitant as Jimmy felt.
“I’ll see you later then I guess?”
“Yeah.” Scott repeated, eyes glowingly firmly in the gloom of the dusk, “Take care Jimmy.”
“You too Scott.” Jimmy sighed as he turned around, forcing his feet to move and carry him into the forest and away from his boyfriend. They’d see each other again, they were trapped on the same tiny server after all, but right now he needed to get back to his teammate before it got too dark.
“Jimmy.” He half turned as he heard Scott call from behind him, the other having not moved an inch from where he stood in the shadows, “If you need help preening …” He trailed off, hesitation fighting with the almost longing painted across his face.
He nodded once, stomach doing excited flips at the idea of preening. He’d heard how nice it was from Grian before, had done it for both Grian and Scott in fact and seen the effects on them, but he’d never had it done to him. Would it feel as nice as it looked?
“I’d like that. Night Scott.” Jimmy marched on through the trees even as his heart cried to turn around. Another day, when things weren’t so raw perhaps.
It was near the end of the week that Jimmy returned to their cherry mountain to find Martyn had killed all their sheep – making him an instant enemy of course. But also to find Lizzie hesitating on the top of the plateau.
“Lizzie?” Jimmy calls to his sibling who spun round, eyes widening as if caught. “What are you doing up here?”
“Scar said I could live with you up here.” Lizzie casually replied but Jimmy’s eyes widened to match hers, massive grin breaking across his face as he half bounced the last few steps between them.
Lizzie could join them? That would be amazing! He’d never teamed with her before, she’d only really been in two games beforehand and he’d barely seen her both times.
“Really?!” He was aware he was grinning like a fool but he couldn’t temper down the excitement of having his sister as a teammate. Him, Scar, and Lizzie – they’d be undefeatable, and more importantly have an amazing time!
“I’m still deciding.” Lizzie tries to lie, voice going up an octave as she tries to wave it off but he knows her too well. His grin somehow widens further even as Lizzie continues to try to lie, “I have several other options on where to live.”
Understandably, he gave her the grand tour of her new home.
Which admittedly is not much of a tour outside of an empty sheep pen and a couple of chests, but they’ll get there. Scar and Lizzie are both brilliant builders and he can help by gathering resources, they’d have a stunning base in no time.
On the last day of active play for the week – their fifth on the server – Scar was off on another one of his wanders leaving him and Lizzie alone to chat and joke. For some reason that escaped Jimmy, the pale gardens were mentioned and in true sibling fashion after lots of teasing and prodding and dares, they decide to venture off to see the new biome.
BigB apparently was making his new home amongst the pale woods and Ren was visiting like them, investigating the new blocks and trying to find the new mob. They joked around as they explored the area together, getting great views of the rest of the server with the hill the pale forest sits upon.
Lizzie grew excited by the block colour and mentioned how Joel would be eager to try out the new block type as she poked the moss crawling up the trees. Jimmy eyed it more warily, on lookout for the mobs that have yet to appear with the last remains of light keeping them safe.
The sun started to dip lower on the horizon, marking the oncoming rest period that Jimmy was all too happy to begin. His wings were really starting to irritate him, pulling at their bindings and itching but thankfully not hurting – Grian had a lot of practise biding wings safely and it showed. He just hated the reminder of what half the practise came from.
An idea sprang to mind and he was grinning as he gets to work making a campfire, setting the flame alight as he created make shift chairs around it. “We can camp out!” He spun on the rest of the chatting group, proud of his little idea, arms gesturing to the spot he’d made.
“Like little kids.” Lizzie smiles back, sharing a look with him. They’d done a little bit of camping as kids – sometimes it had even ended well.
“Kids in a spooky haunted forest.” BigB adds, eyeing the darkening trees warily even as he selected a seat to sit in.
Ren happily sat in the last seat available, tiny body displaying so much excitement as his tail wagged and ears were perked up high. BigB was smiling now, leaning over the fire as Lizzie asked him about his base he’d started to plan. Ren chimed in every so often mentioning ideas – some sane, some less so. Jimmy just leaned back and enjoyed the atmosphere of the dusk, weight of the long week lessening.
It was an odd sight, Jimmy thought as he looked across the group around the campfire. BigB and Ren were both tiny, smaller than the steps they sat on, while Lizzie was massive, only a little smaller than the closest trees. Jimmy was pretty sure he was just a little shorter than normal but couldn’t be too sure – he’d find out in the morning when the wild card vanished and they all returned to normal height.
Ren grilled some mutton on the fire as Jimmy gave him a side eye – he was teamed with Martyn after all and the second drama kid had noticeably killed all his sheep earlier in the week. But with the rest period so close and the atmosphere of the night, he let it slip with little comment. Though he did have to raise an eyebrow at the name Renwood Mound – hopefully they wouldn’t have a repeat of the first game with one of them beheading the other, but who knew with those drama kids.
He smiled softly as the shadows grew, fireflies appearing to brighten up the dim light amongst the trees, and the fire crackling in the middle as the four of them shared quiet conversation. As the sun fully disappeared from the sky, stars twinkling away above them and full moon shining brightly on their forest glade, Ren dug out his guitar.
To be completely honest Jimmy has no idea why he had it – Ren had known they were going into a fight when he’d packed his inventory before Pirates but apparently the Hermit had decided his guitar was a necessity. He didn’t judge.
Jimmy couldn’t complain if it meant he got this quiet moment in the pale forest again. He let Ren’s deep voice wash over him as the Hermit sang along to his strumming. It was only in the first few weeks they tended to get these quiet friendly moments, and he wasn’t sure keeping their memories would stop the normal descent into madness.
But that was a future issue.
For now, all he had to do was listen to Ren sing, his sister on one side and BigB on the other as they shared a quiet moment in a new biome. Everything would be okay, he decided in the back of his mind, eyes tracing the path of a firefly. It would, because none of them would let it end any other way.
Everything would be okay.
There is a house in New Orleans,
They call the Rising Sun.
And it’s been the ruin of many a poor boy,
Dear God, I know I was one.
Chapter 2: Where are we left in the rubble of our failures
Notes:
Hello everyone!
I'm glad to see how excited you all were by this, thank you all for reading!
I forgot to mention last week that I'll be uploading every Sunday, so here we are!
This week we see how the rest of the group is getting on ...
Come join us on discord:https://discord.gg/ZcUr4u63aA
Thanks for reading and enjoy!
Robyn
Chapter Text
Acho shivered as Kristin appeared with Noxite and a player he didn’t recognise, Dan right behind her with Xornoth who half threw himself out of the god’s grip.
He waited a second to see them vanish again back to Pirates, as they’d done several other times since he’d been rescued, but none of them moved. The seconds ticked by as Acho’s eyes darted across the group. There were nowhere near as many people as there should be if the rescue mission had succeeded.
“What are you still doing here?!” Bek had the same thought as she glared the group down, also shivering, “Go get the others!”
Acho may not have been displayed as a statue like the others, but he’d been taken after his ‘death’ and turned to stone like the rest. The cold and creeping sensation of paralysis, rock crushing him and freezing him wouldn’t leave.
“You have to help them!” Xornoth spun on the two gods, hands twitching for the sheafed sword on his belt.
“We can’t.” Dan protested, wincing, unable to meet the elf’s eyes. He took a step back as Xornoth snarled, fingers tapping the sword, itching to draw it.
“What do you mean?” Fwhip stepped up, him and Xisuma had been looking after the group as they arrived, nervously counting their arrivals and pacing as they waited for others. Acho had watched the pair frantically, crossing names off a list, desperate to see each face come in, familiar and not. “What happened?”
Kristin turned sad eyes on the group, shadows from her hat descending further down her face, and Acho felt his stomach drop before she said a word, no. No, no, no, no. No!
“Adesh discovered us.” Dan answered for the pair, pulling his goggles off his head to fidget with the strap. “We couldn’t reach everyone.”
“Everyone? You hardly got anyone!” Bek waved her hands around, taking a heavy step towards the gods, anger blaring across her face.
Acho scanned the group again, mentally counting. Twenty of them. Twenty had been rescued. There had been thirty odd of them on the server and he didn’t know the exact number of the group that had come to help, but it hadn’t been small.
They’d lost so many.
“What happened?!” Fwhip asked again, eyes scanning the group over and over again as if it would magically make those missing people again.
Acho swallowed, shivers quietening as he took in who was there. And who was gone. Bek had made it but Eloise and Owen were nowhere to be seen, Apo had been grabbed however. He was relieved to see Aimsey who’d been one of the longest captured amongst the group saved. But Ros and Micheala, his faction mates weren’t there, nor was poor Guqqie, the first one taken.
And Scott was missing.
“We rescued as many as we could.” Dan kept his head low, after returning his goggles to their place, at least attempting to explain unlike Kristin who’d remained silent the whole time, eyes locked on Xornoth who stood on shaky legs. “I’m sorry.”
“You just left them there!” Apo protested, “We have to go back!”
“You can’t.” Kristin finally spoke, tone sharp as she drew the group’s attention. “Adesh has sealed the cracks that allowed us to slip in. They are on their own.”
No, no, no, no.
“So, we can’t do anything?!” Bek snapped, hysterical laugh bubbling out of her, “That might be okay for you lady, but those are our friends! We can’t just do nothing.”
Kristin’s gaze hardened and Noxite shuffled to stand half in front of Bek, shaking his head quickly at the Kite, well former Kite he guessed. “That’s not what she’s saying.” He declared, turning a pleading look on the goddess, “Right?”
“No.” Kristin sighed, deflating as she rubbed at her face, hat obscuring half of it. “No, I know the tight bonds you players have too well to ever believe you would abandon your own.”
“What we should do is calm down, fighting isn’t going to help anything.” Xisuma cut in, hands waving between the groups.
The strange player that had arrived with Noxite spun round on him, “Really Xisuma?! They have our players, and you’re not screaming and ready to fight?!”
The Hermitcraft admin stilled and turned to the other in an eerily calm manner, “I didn’t say that Xanati.” So that was their name, Acho looked between the two of them, noting how similar the suits looked. Was this the famed brother Scott and some of the others had mentioned?
“Yet you’re not doing anything.” Xanati pressed, almost snarling “Like you never did anything before.”
“That’s enough!” Noxite snapped, loud voice overlapping any of the mutters that had started to break out across the room, “Xisuma is right, this isn’t helping anyone. We will help them, but we need to think sensibly to do so.”
“And some of the others need to go home.” Fwhip chimed in, rubbing his forehead that was still creased with worry. “Most of you can’t do anything right now, and you need rest after your ordeal. We’ll send you home to protected servers, and you’ll stay there. If we get any information or need any help, we’ll message you.”
More grumbled erupted but many of those rescued were tired and shivering and barely able to stand up straight. The admins were all correct that they needed a break if they wanted to think straight.
Fwhip and Xisuma went around the group, working to send them home. Acho just watched, slouching against the wall of the closest building. Looking around at his surroundings for the first time he realised he was in Scott’s little safety server. He’d only visited it once before, but it would make sense for the group to have been brought there. A midpoint between other servers, neutral without risking any others. Clever.
He half heard as Oli protested but Fwhip quietly encourage him to return to their current server and tell them what had happened. Neither Shubble or Sausage had been saved.
By the time Xisuma stepped in front of him, communicator in hand, he’d stopped shivering and made up his mind. “I’m not going.” He stated calmly, tone stern. “I can help, I need to help.”
“There’s not much you can do.” Xisuma tried to argue but Acho was already shaking his help.
“I don’t care, I need to stay.” Xisuma hesitated in front of him for a moment longer before nodding slightly and moving on.
It took another ten minutes before most of the group was gone, and the cobbled courtyard felt significantly quieter as Acho looked around those who had stayed. Xisuma, Fwhip, and Noxite were a given. Nor was he surprised to see Bek, Apo, and Xanati remain.
His gaze lingered on Xornoth who was still stood stock still, wobbling slightly with the breeze, frown furrowing deeper before his eyes flickered to the last person left. False stood, arms crossed and determination alight in her gaze. She was one of the few from the rescue group that had made it back, ironically.
The pair of gods shared a look, Kristin nodding tightly to Dan who sighed, turning back to them, “We’ll leave you to sort yourselves. You know how to contact us if needed, we’ll chase down some leads on our side.” With that the pair were gone before anyone could argue.
Xisuma, Apo, and Fwhip immediately turned to each other and started to whisper, Xanati joining in after a moment. Acho’s gaze caught Noxite, the MCC admin also looking like he wanted to join in but hesitated, eyes darting to Xornoth.
Acho bit his lip, catching Noxite’s gaze and nodded towards the admin circle. Noxite frowned, glancing once more at Xornoth but Acho shook his head gain, taking a step closer to the elf in answer. Eyes lingering on him for another moment, Noxite finally let out a quiet breath and joined the other three admins.
He vaguely noticed Bek and False strike up a conversation out of the corner of his eye before his focus was entirely on the purple haired elf whose gaze lingered on the distance unseeing.
“Xornoth?” Acho called quietly as he moved closer, sticking to the elf’s side and frowning at him. No reaction.
Sighing, Acho slowly reached out and placed a light hand on his arm. Xornoth jolted, wide eyes snapping to Acho who quickly took a step back, telegraphing his movements as he lowered his arms.
“You back with us?” He asked gently.
Xornoth frowned, eyes darting around the diminished group, confusion evident in his gaze. Acho bit his lip again, glancing around and spotting a bench hidden in the shade of a tree just down one of the cobbled streets. “C’mon, let’s get you sitting.”
The elf followed blindly as he moved them down to the bench, taking the hint as Acho watched him sit before following. “You okay?” He prodded quietly, finding himself surprisingly glad for the peace from the group.
He’d enjoyed Pirates as much as he could considering the takeover but it was anything but quiet. Even out on the vast seas there’d always been crashing waves, creaking of boats, and the pesky seagulls that had liked to follow him and perch on his sails. It had been a long time since he’d known the gentle peace of sitting quietly on a hidden bench.
“They’re gone.” Xornoth’s voice broke as he finally spoke, hands clenched in fists as they glared down at the cobbled floor.
“They are.” Acho agreed neutrally, fighting back his own despair and anger. It wouldn’t do him any help, but he knew well enough he’d deal with it later. Maybe scream himself hoarse or punch something, just about anything to let it all out before it consumed him. “But they’re strong and more importantly they’re stubborn, and clever. They’ll work out something and we’ll work out something.”
He really hoped they worked out something. He knew he couldn’t sit here again, hoping and silently begging.
“I lost him … again.” Acho winced at that one, also feeling the loss of Scott like a pang in his heart. And he’d barely been his ‘brother’ for a few months. Xornoth and Scott had a long (complicated) history, and Acho doubted he knew everything, but they did love each other.
“Scott’s especially stubborn.” Acho sighed, wincing as his mind decided to replay their last moments together, Scott determined to be stubborn and make a sacrifice for him. “And infuriatingly clever. Besides they’re together at least, they’ve fought before and will do again. If anything, we should feel sorry for Adesh for the trouble they’re going to cause.”
Yeah, that was definitely pushing it too much. He didn’t feel anything but a simmering hatred, and annoying spark of fear for the god of order. Acho shivered unconsciously, fighting back the panic as he got a flash of the feeling of stone crawling all over and encasing him again.
He was definitely not going to be sleeping well anytime soon.
Xornoth looked up finally, raising an eyebrow at his last comment and Acho shrugged with a rueful grin, “You know what your brother is like.” Personally, he could come up with many words to describe Scott, and the odd one might even be nice.
“Our.”
Acho blinked, pulling out of his mental chuckles to frown at Xornoth, brows crinkled in confusion as the elf just kept that steady raised eyebrow aimed at him.
“What?”
“Scott’s our brother. You said mine.” Xornoth offered a soft smile and Acho hunched in on himself, licking his lips, suddenly self-conscious.
He looked away, unable to meet Xornoth’s knowing look. “Yeah, well that was just a little bit for the server and that’s over and all now.” Or it was over for them, maybe not those that remained. Still. Same thing.
Xornoth chuckled lightly and Acho risked a quick glance at him, something old and knowing in his purple eyes that reminded him that he was old. “You’re right, I do know our brother. Which means I know him well enough to know he’s claimed you as one of us, and not just for a little server game.”
Acho shook his head stubbornly, something turning in his stomach and emotions tumbling in a way he couldn’t vocalise even to himself. “No, we’ve not really known each long enough …”
“You think that matters?” Xornoth was annoying calm considering it had been Acho comforting them not that long ago. “We may have been raised together but I didn’t see him for millennia, time is inconsequential. Feelings matter. You know how I know he cares so much?”
“How?” Acho’s voice was barely more than a whisper.
He was both terrified of the answer and desperate for it, like a starving man in a desert, and Xornoth’s knowledge was an oasis in the close distance.
“He brought you to meet me.” Xornoth smiled as Acho finally looked back at him, taking in the sincerity and general softness of their face. “Do you know how many people I let on my little server? A handful, all people I know and vetted. But he was so excited, so eager to introduce you to me, how could I say no?”
Acho gulped, barely resisting the urge to look away again. He knew Xornoth didn’t spend time with many people, still recovering from being possessed and trying to get used to a world that had changed from under his feet, but he hadn’t thought …
“Thank you.” Acho’s confusion was back, eyebrows crinkled deeply as he found only pure sincerity and gratitude on the elf’s face.
“For what?” He croaked out, more emotionally wrecked than he could have ever thought he’d be from a little conversation with Xornoth who he’d barely met a couple of times. They’d have to go back and join the others soon, see what decision had been made and what they could do to help. They couldn’t hide forever.
“For looking after him when I couldn’t.” Xornoth smiled, “For being on the same server and playing with him, and being his brother. I’m glad you’re part of the family.”
Oh. Oh.
Maybe he was going to need a minute.
False scowled.
It felt like the scowl was a new permanent feature on her face. Their rescue mission had gone about as disastrous as it could and now there was a whole new group needing rescued, and they had no information or way to help them.
It likely didn’t help that she’d seen True during the gathering and not since. Her Helsmit, her sister, was one of the group captured.
Bek had shuffled over to her, the two of them scowling at the little admin circle, their resident friendly gods having vanished. She’d vaguely seen Acho and Xornoth disappear down a path but had left them to it, not knowing either very well.
“What are they even discussing?” Bek muttered, tapping her foot impatiently. She didn’t really know the other woman well either, but recognised her from MCC.
False shrugged, “Server protections, logistics, anything they can I guess.”
It was the same things they discussed every time the group had gone missing. Although the number of admins involved had grown. Yet they still failed to come up with real answers every time. Which wasn’t something she held against them, she couldn’t, but it didn’t leave a good feeling in her stomach knowing what they were about to go through. Again.
A series of nods went around the group of five before they spun on the watching women. “False, Bek.” Noxite acknowledged, “How many people are we missing? False you went with the rescue group and Bek you were on pirates.”
Xisuma handed across a list of names, those they’d rescued before sending them back to safe servers. False spotted her name down the list, glaring at the innocent ink as she tried to think about who was missing. Bek was doing the same beside her, standing on her tip toes to better see the list.
“Fourteen, I think.” Bek spoke first, looking up from counting on her fingers. “You got half the server out.”
Small victories.
False finished her own tally, forehead pinching as she noticed a concerning thing about who was not on the rescued list. “And eighteen of us that went in, didn’t come out.” A concerning number seeing as only about twenty-two of them went in.
Fwhip sighed, “That makes thirty-two missing.” False matched his sigh, they were in a net-negative, more people were missing now then there were before on pirates. And at least they had known what was happening to that group.
“That’s not all.” False spoke up, worry crossing her brow as she double checked the list, “Has anyone noticed who didn’t come back?”
It was Bek that frowned at her, “Yes, that’s what we’re working out.” She misunderstood, the others matching her confusion with crinkled brows.
“No.” False shook her head, gesturing to the list, “Those taken before, the games. They’re all amongst the group left behind.”
Xisuma lowered his head, “And how likely is that a coincidence?”
None of them needed to mention the odds, but it did spark an odd look on Noxite’s face. “Kristin said something about that.” He muttered, trying to recall, all attention firmly on him. “About Adesh being upset about how the Watchers were handled and the group escaping punishment.”
“You think this is punishment?” Fwhip narrowed in on his fellow admin.
Noxite shrugged, lips tight, “I don’t know, but knowing that group I doubt it’s a coincidence.”
False didn’t either, an unsettling feeling spinning round her stomach. What did that mean for those taken before? And what did it mean for the others left behind?
Running feet had her head snapping to the path she’s seen the pair vanish earlier, Acho leading the way at a fast pace, eyes wide as Xornoth followed him closely.
“What happened?” Xanati finally spoke, taking a few steps closer to the pair who were breathing heavily as they rejoined them. Hand reaching for Xornoth before dropping, False noted the sign of concern curious.
The pair shared a look, hesitating.
“Xornoth, Acho.” Noxite called, tone close to pleading, “If you know something …”
“I heard Helsknight.” Xornoth blurted out, eyes down as Acho kept glancing at him worriedly.
False wasn’t alone in blinking in confusion.
“You … heard Hels?” Xanati asked slowly, bewildered, taking a step closer to the pair. “How?”
Xornoth hesitated again, biting their lip. For a moment False didn’t think he was going to say anything else but Acho laid a hand on his arm and gave him a nod when the purple haired elf glanced his way. The elf sighed, “I’ve been … hearing voices for a little while now. I think …” Whatever he’d been about to say he aborted, shaking his head, “But this one was definitely Hels.”
“Voices.” Noxite muttered, head tilted and voice quiet as if he didn’t intend for the others to overhear, “Like Grian?”
“What did he say?” Xanti pressed, concern evident for his friend. False couldn’t help her own step forward, eager for any news and hoping Hels would have stuck close to his fellow Helsmit True.
Xornoth sighed, “It was … muffled. But he mentioned they were separated. Adesh sent just over half the group away at the end of the fight. Something about a … game.” His own eyes widened, worry brewing as he made the connection but they swallowed it to finish his retelling, “He’s stuck with the others, he doesn’t know where they are but it feels odd, he said. They’re in cells though, not frozen like the Pirates were. He doesn’t think they’re still on the server though either.”
“That’s … news.” Fwhip rubbed a hand across his face, expression conflicted.
Xornoth ignored him, spinning on Noxite, “You don’t think-?”
“We just noticed how those taken before are on the missing list.” Noxite explained with an apologetic frown, “And knowing them and Adesh’s anger …”
“They’re in another stupid game.” Acho finished with a scowl, arms crossed.
“That seems likely, yes.” Xisuma admitted, fists curled tight.
Bek paced a few steps back and forth, “But this makes things more difficult, if they’re split then that’s two different rescue missions.”
“And we don’t know where either group are trapped.” False added, mind whirling as she tried to think of something, anything, they could do.
“How did you communicate with us.” Bek whirled on the admins, “Inside Pirates?”
They shared a look and False raised an eyebrow of her own. She hadn’t been told the details, only that they’d managed to make contact. Initially she’d assumed it was similar to how they’d done it in past games but based on the glances the others were sharing it wasn’t so simple.
Fwhip sighed, running a hand through his hair, “We tried the ritual, the one that swaps players but with the protections on the sever it didn’t work … well.” He shared another look with Xisuma, Noxite and Xanati, as Xornoth snorted. Cleary that was an understatement.
“But Kristin altered it.” Xisuma continued.
“Great, so we do the altered one and try and talk to the others.” Acho declared, a spark of hope appearing in his eyes at the obvious solution.
“It’s not that simple.” Noxite winced, “The alterations to the ritual needed all the champions we had and Kristin or Dan always read the spell. I’m the only champion left.” He glanced at Xornoth but didn’t add anything.
False looked between all of them, hoping someone would come up with a smile and a ‘but’ but nothing appeared. She rubbed her forehead, “So we have nothing?”
None of them looked any happier about it. “Not at the moment.” Xisuma admitted, “But we’ll come up with something. We always have.”
“Kristin and Dan might come up with something as well.” Noxite added hopefully. False didn’t bother to hide her scowl. The gods had been quick to abandon then, she wanted to trust they’d come back with a miracle but she wasn’t holding out hope.
“Well, Hels can clearly get messages out on his side.” Xanati mused, giving Xornoth a considering look, “Can we get messages into the others?”
Acho frowned, arms crossed, “I don’t want to sound horrible, but what good would that do? They wouldn’t be able to answer.”
“No.” Fwhip agreed with a sigh, “But when we do work something out, we can let them know. And personally, in their situation, I’d want to know at least some people made it out safe.”
“Grian and Scott can both hear prayers.” Xornoth shrugged, his own expression troubled “We can send messages to either of them. Update them.”
Xisuma nodded, “Yes, but first it’s been a long few days and we’re not getting anywhere here. I think we need to have a break.”
False bit back her automatic dismissal of the idea, the exhaustion she’d been pushing back fully taking a grip on her. As much as she hated to say it, Xisuma was right. They weren’t going to come up with anything else now, they may as well rest and recuperate.
“Right. Rest and then the real planning begins.” Fwhip grimaced.
Here they went again.
Cub counted the bricks in the ceiling for the third time.
- 237. 238. 239. 240. 241, 242
He’d gotten 243 the first time, then 242 on the second. Apparently, he’d miscounted the first time. He dodged the drip of water aimed for his eye as he lay staring up at the bricks. Well, that was six minutes successfully killed.
There wasn’t a lot to do when trapped in a windowless cell.
After the initial excitement of being swept off the Pirates server, a large group of them stolen away to play another game from what he’d heard Adesh say, the rest of them had been abandoned in these cells.
And Cub truly meant abandoned. He’d seen nor heard anyone outside of the fourteen of them imprisoned down there since. He wasn’t even sure how much time had passed, having no way to track it – his communicator had died four hours in.
He rolled his head to glance at Shubble who was lying on the thin bench they’d been calling a bed. From shouting between the cells, and peering through the thin slot in what he assumed could be a door but didn’t look any different to any other wall, Cub learned they’d all been partnered up.
Hels and True were on one side of him, and Zedaph and a pirate called Kuervo on the other. Shubble had quickly identified the squabbling coming from the cell opposite as being Owen and Eloise, then she’d decided to take a nap, the cell not really big enough for the two of them to be moving around at the same time. He could cross their little box in four and a half steps one way and five and three quarters the other. Cub had triple checked.
Safe to say he wasn’t loving his current living conditions.
But he was pretty darn sure he wouldn’t rather be playing a game. Not from the rare stories he’d been told and watching parts of the last one. Even if it meant he could have had Scar’s back.
“Anything changed?” Cub sat up to see Shubble stirring from her nap.
He shook his head, “Nothing.” He matched her frown.
“How long do you think we’ve been here?” She asked, pushing herself up, and moving the two steps to join him, eyes moving to the slot in the wall.
There was only dim light from spluttering torches outside, a dark corridor spanning each direction with seemingly no end in sight. Only the odd slot showing cells from what Cub could see. No daylight to keep track of time.
“Half a day?” Cub hypothesised. He was fairly hungry at this point, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t much longer than that. Not a good sign if he was already this bored.
Shubble groaned. “From one cell to another.”
“At least the last one allowed us to spread our legs and see the sun.” Eloise called from the cell opposite, their conversation louder than either had thought as they both jumped at the noise.
“I don’t know.” Owen argued, “At least some of the others escaped.” Cub hummed in agreement, between the group taken into the games and the over baker’s dozen of them scattered in cells, the rescue mission had gone terrible quite frankly.
“Who did get out?” Zedaph called, Cub recognising the worried tone to his voice and if he listened closely, he could hear the other Hermit pace in his cell. Undoubtedly worried for Skizz, Tango, and Impulse back in the game just as Cub was terrified for Scar. He wasn’t sure how much his dear friend could take with these games. Quite honestly, Cub wasn’t sure how much more he could take, and he wasn’t even playing.
“Most of the others outside of the lifers.” Shubble called back. “I’m pretty sure I saw False get taken out.”
“And Xanati and Xornoth.” Helsknight spoke, Cub’s head moving to look at the wall that separated him from the pair of Helmsits. “They’ll come up with something to get us out.”
Cub snorted, “That’s not in doubt.” It was, but he couldn’t think that way if he wanted to stay sane.
Zedaph pressed “We got into Pirates, the others can find us.” Silence lingered between them all, none wanting to kill Zedaph’s hope despite knowing it would be hard. They didn’t have any ideas where they were or what was happening. How would the others?
“Is there any way to get a message out?” Eloise asked, breaking the heavy silence. “Let the others know what happened. I mean Kristin and Dan didn’t even see Adesh split us.”
Cub frowned, that was a very good point. Those that had escaped and the others on the outside had no way of knowing about the lifers being separated from the rest of them. Or that they’d been taken off of the Pirates server as Cub was assuming, unless Adesh had made a prison somewhere on the server, which Owen theoretically would know about as admin.
“Scott and Grian are in a new game.” Owen mused, “Though I guess we could let them know what happened too.”
“Xornoth.” TrueSymmetry spoke slowly. “He got out with Xanati.”
“Which is good.” Eloise agreed, “But that doesn’t explain how we can get a message out to them. Even if any of our communicators still worked, I doubt Adesh would allow a message to get out.” He hadn’t on Pirates after all.
“True is right.” Hels backed his fellow Helsmit, “Xornoth was hearing … voices. I think they’re prayers as much as he would never admit it.”
Cub blinked and glancing at Shubble he wasn’t alone. Her face had made a complicated summersault of expressions at hearing Xornoth’s name, he knew vaguely they had a complicated history when the elf was possessed. None of the Empires folk liked to talk about the first version of the server – or its dramatic end. Just like none of the Hermits liked to talk about their own server’s cataclysmic ending.
“What? How?” Owen muttered, spluttering slightly before pausing with a sharp breath, “No, not important now, as long as it would work.”
“You sure it would?” Cub couldn’t help but ask, needing and wanting to do something, anything, aside from sit in the tiny cold cell and wait. But he didn’t want to get his hopes up if it wouldn’t get them anywhere.
A moment, then Hels called back, determination almost hiding the desperation tinging his voice, “It will work.”
“Okay.” Owen sighed, taking charge, “Helsknight tries to contact Xornoth to let those outside know what is happening. I’ll pray to Scott; someone try Grian just in case. Anything else we can do?”
More silence. They all knew there was very little they could do; they’d shoved and screamed and raged for the first hour of their imprisonment. They’d all used every gift and curse in their inventories to try and make a crack in their cells or slip through the darkness but nothing had even made a dent.
All it had done was exhaust and frustrate everyone. Though screaming had been a bit therapeutic, Cub would admit. It didn’t out do the annoyance and increasing despair and terror as his vex magic had just slipped against the walls, doing nothing but temporarily leaving a glow of colour in the otherwise dark space.
“Conserve energy.” Cub answered eventually, mind whirling even as his eyes shuttered, refusing to look at Shubble next to him. “We need to rest so we think better.”
“We trust those outside.” Shubble added, “They know what they’re doing, and we’re not alone.”
“Stick together and wait.” Eloise muttered, “Great. Love these kinds of plans.” Cub sympathised but he had nothing better to tell her. To tell any of them. To tell himself. They were trapped, scattered and out powered drastically.
“The message was sent.” Hels sighed. Or Cub bet he was hoping at least. They had no way to get an answer back after all.
“Just got to hope it actually reached someone.” Owen muttered, before letting out a pained yelp. Shubble smothered her chuckle miming an elbow movement for Cub, ah Eloise hadn’t appreciated the comment. “Yeah, yeah. We trust those outside but keep thinking ourselves as well. See if anyone shows up or anything we can use.”
Mutters broke out between cells but more muffled this time, people purposely keeping their voices low. The meeting was over, clearly.
Cub shook his head to himself, leaning against the wall and looking pointedly away from the slot. He glanced at Shubble who offered a small smile, nodding to the ‘bedding’. “Get some rest.”
He just nodded, shuffling towards the bedding. Rest sounded good, mostly for the fact it meant he could kill some time.
He hated the waiting game.
Chapter 3: Trouble and food and snails, oh my!
Notes:
Hello everyone!
This week we see how the lifers are getting on (not well considering they have a new shelled trauma) and we see a godly confrontation.
Remember to join us for fun over on discord: https://discord.gg/ZcUr4u63aA
Thanks all for reading and hope you're enjoying!
Robyn
Chapter Text
Gem sighed as Pearl vanished over the hill.
Chaos. That’s what Pearl had been up to, what everyone was up to this time really. It was such a difference from the last game she’d experienced – from the only real game she’d experienced.
She’d hoped to never experience another. At least not another not under Grian or her friend’s full control.
In the last game she’d been a puppet and controlled, struggling with the effects of being red. While here, it was still early days, even as they entered the middle of the second week. They still had some control as Grian remained determined to cause enough chaos to force Adesh to pay attention to them, or even release them.
Gem wasn’t so confident that plan was going to work the way he wanted, but she hadn’t said as much out loud. Not with so many circling the avian, watching and waiting to see if the weight of this server would make him collapse like the miny one he’d run.
So far, he was still standing strong.
And probably taking too much joy from watching them to try and figure out the wild cards he’d implemented as part of his plan. The hunger had been a surprise this week, and she still hadn’t gotten used to shoving random things into her mouth hoping they counted as food, and good food more accurately.
Still, at least she hadn’t starved like a couple of the other idiots. But that wasn’t her problem, she had her own idiot to deal with in the form of her teammate. Joel and her were a great team so far even if he was determined to build that darn car of his.
As much as she tried to ignore them, she heard the whispers that followed them. Of how strong a team they were, of how they’d have to be taken down soon if the others wanted a chance.
They may be in more control of themselves than normal and all have their memories (and know the others have their memories) but everyone still wanted to win. Gem couldn’t blame them, she did too.
Well, most people did. She was pretty sure some of the past winners were more wary about claiming the title again, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t face a challenge trying to take them out. None of them were willing to lie down and roll over, she’d have to fight for any chance of a victory for her or Joel.
She liked it better that way.
Her belly rumbled, and she winced as she checked her hunger bars, watching them shake as they got scarily low. It was harder than normal to keep on top of her nutrition, and that was saying something from all she’d heard and experienced with past games. But with the odd foods and never knowing what affect she was going to get, things were all so much harder. She’d curse Grian for that if it wasn’t kinda funny at times. The comedy of shoving random blocks into her mouth and the odd affects was almost worth the struggle. Almost.
Grabbing a chunk of cobble she chewed down which was a strange sensation to begin with. Very rocky, but not bad.
“Gem!” Her head jerked up as her partner (in crime) shouted as he approached from across the little river that separated them from the ‘Tuff Guys’. A very inaccurate name, Gem thought, and would absolutely say that to their faces later. Maybe several times.
Joel was grinning, arms filled with cobble to continue the monstrosity he’d been building all week. The grey outline was certainly a contrast to her lovely mangrove barn but she was just enjoying having enough peace to actually be able to build.
That was rare from her experience in these series and despite the food oddity of the week, not much chaos had actually happened – everyone still in the early game and trying to adjust. That didn’t stop people coming over to bother her, however.
“Hey Joel,” She called back, with a grin for her teammate, “Got more supplies?”
“Oh yes.” Joel matched her grin, dumping stuff in an awaiting chest, and rubbing his hands together excitedly. That was another reason she wasn’t intefering with his monstrosity – the man looked like he needed something good in his life and if that was building an eyesore then she’d let him do it.
They all needed a break right now.
She groaned as her communicator alerted her of food being randomised again, “Goodness sake.” She muttered more to herself than anything, expanding their wheat farm in preparation for when they could finally eat normal food again, “I hate it here.”
The food was annoying, certainly. The periodic randomisation making it even more so. But if this was early game, what chaos had Grian thought up of for later? It was a thought that kept her up at night sometimes, knowing how much of a gremlin he was - it was a terrifying thought.
Though the upcoming chaos might be worth it if it meant they could escape and mess with the god trying to hurt them.
Barn complete and empty of animals (she knew better than to actually put them in there, but hey, it looked pretty!) and farm expanded, she turned her eye on the next task. She squinted across the river to the foundations of a tower on another outcrop of land – a bridge was certainly needed there.
Scowling at the ugly mangrove trees on their property she decided she may as well continue using the wood and got to chopping. The bridge itself didn’t take long – though longer than normal considering it was hard to build when she kept trying to eat the blocks.
Satisfied she gave the basic structure a nod and set off to tell her neighbours. Etho and Bdubs were happy with the bridge, the latter complementing her on her choice of block and additional lighting. Gem was just happy for a chance to scout out the groups starting to solidify on the server.
This week might be quiet but she didn’t think for a moment it would stay that way. And the odd quiet was good for sussing out factions and potential future allies. Or enemies.
Talking of broken quiet.
Skizz died.
“What?” She muttered in shock as she saw the announcement, glancing across her bridge to try and find the man. That was the second time he’d died this week and it wasn’t even to the wild card! “I need to find this man.”
Finding Skizz was not hard at all and soon she was getting regaled with the whole murder tale while Mumbo and Grian messed with Jimmy in the background.
“The eating is hard Gem!” Skizz complained, panic rising “Oh no, I’m going to starve again.”
“Cobble deepslate, Skizz!” Exasperation laced her voice as she threw the man the blocks, “You can’t die again, that would be embarrassing.”
“Embarrassing she says.” Skizz chuckled even as he munched down on the blocks. Gem rolled her eyes as he left, it really would be embarrassing, how had the man survived past games?
She followed Jimmy up the mountain, eager to get a better look at the parrots Lizzie had pointed out to her on her way past earlier in the week. Lizzie was also at the top and happily showed Gem around.
Jimmy re-joined them as they looked over the edge of the mountain, getting a brilliant view of half the sever that Gem made a mental note of. A great view point for spotting people or planning traps later.
“It looks like a shark.” Jimmy declared, squinting at Joel’s build. His new wings flapped against the restraints on his back as if in agreement. The golden limbs oddly suited him, adding an element to the golden retriever look he often had going. She hadn’t gotten much explanation for their sudden appearance in the chaos, but Gem didn’t doubt it was a story.
“It does!” Lizzie agreed, grin wide at the opportunity to tease her husband. She nudged Jimmy, “You should go and tell him that.” Apparently, she also wanted to get her brother in trouble.
Gem snorted, half wanting to see Joel’s no doubt unnecessary extra reaction but also not wanting to deal with the drama, “Please don’t, he’s spent all week building it.”
Jimmy hummed in vague agreement, frown pulling on his lips, “You know it’s kind of weird?”
“What is?” Lizzie asked, turning a frown on him.
He shrugged, “How quiet this week has been. I mean, knowing Grian you’d expect a lot more chaos.” He gestured down to the peaceful server, only a few deaths and more to stupidity than anything.
The blond had a point.
Lizzie sighed, “Thanks Jim, now you’ve cursed us.”
Gem laughed even as she matched Lizzie’s sigh, “I hope you’re all ready for a chaotic week three.”
Scott hummed to himself, munching on some cobble deepslate as he pretended to be oblivious to the eyes watching him.
The burning heat latched onto his back and unnatural warmth to the air told him all he needed to know about his unwanted observer. He kept his feet steady even as his hands clenched and unclenched next to his side, humming never faulting as he walked deeper and deeper into the trees.
Away from everyone else.
No one else needed to be around for this confrontation.
He found a clearing near the border, spinning round with a low hum and eagle eyes. This would do. Fingers moving as he crafted a small shield for the area, preventing anyone from coming too close, the air cooling minutely as frost snaked round the trees nearby. He usually never used any of his powers in the game, or when playing on normal servers actually, for the same reasons Grian and now Jimmy’s wings were bound.
This wasn’t normal circumstances.
“Are you going to come out or keep watching me like a creep?” Scott called out to the air, eyebrows raised as he gestured to the air vaguely.
The air crackled with sudden heat that had Scott taking a tiny step back, Adesh appearing in a burst of flames. “Dramatic.” Scott muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes at his counterpart.
Adesh ignored his remark, taking in the frost caking the nearby trees, “Not wanting your little players to stumble into this talk?” His fingers traced the nearest frost fern, the crystals crackling but not melting.
“I figured you might want some privacy.” Scott remarked with a shrug, being careful to keep his expression neutral. It wouldn’t help, no matter how much he wanted to leap across the gap and strangle the other deity.
Adesh just hummed, bare feet leaving burnt grass in his wake as he slowly circled the clearing. Scott matched him, circling in sync, keeping a constant distance between them. His inventory was clear aside from some food; a diamond sword or bow would do him no good if it came to a battle here.
“The watcher’s pet messed with my game.” Adesh finally spoke, a sneer plaster across his face as his hands gestured to the border where a faint purple shimmer competed with the orange-red of Adesh’s power.
“Grian.” Scott gritted out the name of his friend pointedly, “Adjusted your game to make it more enjoyable for us. What? Not enjoying it, Adesh?” He smiled, full of sharp teeth and eyes taking on an icy colour as they continued their slow dance round the clearing.
“It is chaotic!” Adesh snapped, halting his steps, puffs of smoke coming from the burning grass by his feet. “This is a lesson! One those ungrateful brats need to learn.”
Scott shrugged, fingernails carving moon-shaped indents into his palms as he fought to keep his expression calm. “I don’t know what to tell you Adesh, this group has never been good at doing what they’re told.” It was part of the reason he loved them.
“I gave them order! Gifted them a chance to learn when all they deserve is destruction! And that infernal winged escapee leads them in open rebellion. Messing with my game!” Adesh raged, hands waving frantically as he snarled at Scott.
A flash of grief crossed Scott’s mind. When had Adesh fallen this far? How had none of them seen it? With the council unbalanced and so many old gods fading out of existence they were all shaky and nervous about what it could mean for them. But Adesh had fallen far from the strong control and justice he’d always reigned over with care. They may have never been best friends due to their opposing domains, but they’d respected each other once.
Could all of this have been prevented if one of them had noticed the fear digging its way into the fiery god’s heart? Scott, steeled himself, pushing that thought aside. Now was no time for pity, what ifs couldn’t save anyone and he had dozens of players relying on him to get them to safety.
“And this is the sixth game we’ve played.” Scott cut into Adesh’s rants, purging any sympathy from his heart. He could grieve later when his friends weren’t in danger. “They get … boring if they’re the same old thing.” He twisted his wrist as he spoke, shrugging and playing casual.
Adesh’s eyes narrowed, red-orange burning brighter to be nearly yellow. “And you, Amalruern, you encourage them! Playing down here like you are one of them! You are not, you are better, no matter how weak you are, you are supposed to be better than those insignificant disbelievers.”
Scott narrowed his own eyes back, rage churning in his belly like a storm waiting to strike, “The only insignificant person here is you, Adesh! You take control of our server, and then kidnap them when they try to escape, what do you expect? Them to roll over and start praying to you? Get with the times, Adesh!”
“Yes!” He screeched, shoulder shaking with unbridled fury, “Yes, they should pray to me! To us! Then we would not be fading, would not be unbalanced! Everything would be in order.” His breathing came out heavy between gritted teeth, fists shaking at his side ins something that wasn’t anger.
Scott’s rage abated, curling back up to sleep, pure unadulterated pity taking its place. “No, it wouldn’t. We know better than anyone Adesh, order and chaos are meant to be in balance, one can never outweigh the other, not permanently.”
He turned his back on the fuming god, eyes tracing the intricate weave of Grian’s power into Adesh’s. It was beautiful work, especially considering how quickly he’d done it, and the way it shimmered and held strong even as Adesh’s power tried to burn it out only solidified Scott’s suspicions on what was happening to the avian.
“You are a fool if you think these players will ever bow down and pray to any of us.” He told his counterpart quietly, chin raised high and eyes still tracing that determined weave of purple on the world border. “You can push them as much as you like, they won’t bend.” Scott turned back to the other deity slowly, expression back into that carefully practised neutrality.
“Then I will break them.” Adesh snarled, hands pulled so tight into fists they were paling in colour. “And I will break you if you get in my way.”
“This won’t go how you want it to.” Scott whispered. A truth and a warning wrapped up in one. He knew it would not be heard, Adesh too far fallen to listen, but the words still needed to be spoken. “We both know the threads and how the stories flow. This doesn’t end in your favour.”
“Then I will make it!” Adesh snapped, blinded by his fear fuelled rage.
Scott sighed, grief trying to rear its head again only to be batted down by that pity. “You can try. You won’t succeed. Now, if that is all you have to say, I have a game to play.” He moved to walk away, steps carefully measured and pace slow.
“I will succeed, and in the end, you will be left alone.” Adesh called, “That’s your greatest fear, is it not Amalruern? Being left all alone? You keep getting in my way and I will ensure you will be alone forever.”
Scott fought back the instinctual rage and denial, fists curling and uncurling as he took a deep breath, shoulders rising and lowering in tempered measure. He looked over his shoulder, Adesh standing alone in the clearing in a patch of dead grass and eyes a pinprick of white.
“The others. Those you took, where are they?” He asked quietly instead.
Adesh’s lips curled into a snarl, “Contained.” He snapped out, unpleased at Scott’s resolute ignorance of his threats, “They are players. They are weak. If these players do not step in line, I am sure their little friends could be convincing.”
Scott looked away. Expression shuttering. Shubble. Owen. El. Seapeekay. Sausage. Water. And so many others all trapped away somewhere. Lost, alone and confused. He could picture it too well, their determination to figure a way out fading as they got nowhere, the way their expressions and hopes would fall as they waited longer and longer for any hope of rescue.
And he couldn’t help them. Had to trust his brother and friends outside the game to figure it out. Trust Dan and Kristin to do the right thing and help. He was here in the game, stuck playing once again, useless to fight Adesh unless he wanted to test how far the other deity had truly fallen.
Scott’s eyes shuttered as he let out a low exhale, measured steps resuming as he walked away, one last retort thrown over his shoulder, “If they’re so weak, why are you so scared?”
By the time his slow steps got him to his frosty border, the intense heat behind him grew and then faded. The deity vanishing to stew in their anger and fear. Scott swallowed the lump in his throat as his fingers traced the frost ferns, the ice melting as his magic faded from the area, duty done.
He held his head high as he resumed his humming, starting the walk home. He hadn’t lied to Adesh; he had a game to play. And trust to maintain in his friends.
This story could only end one way, he just wished he knew what that ending meant for those he cared about.
Martyn had fallen into the frustratingly familiar rhythm of a game with an ease that pulled at his heart and pinched his grin.
It was different, having his memories and knowing everyone else did too – allowed a whole new range of jokes (a small silver lining on the dark clouds cast over them) – but the truth of their situation hung over them like a thundercloud (if he was keeping to the cloud analogy).
Just like the anticipation over this week’s wild card was doing.
So far, they’d changed sizes and food had been randomised, what kind of chaos could Grian have cooked up for this week? Especially knowing how the weeks would have to ramp up in chaos if their crazy plan was to work. And because Grian was a mischief loving gremlin.
He let the thoughts linger in the back of his mind as he greeted Ren from the other’s tower house. Another silver lining to this mess – getting to team with Ren again (this time without the whole beheading … maybe … Martyn wouldn’t bet against it knowing them). There was plenty of drama though – that was a given when the two of them were together, regardless of them being in a game or not.
Lots of laughter and chatter later, they’d been by to visit Gem, somehow discussing a wife swap and offering their swords and shields to protect the family’s bovines. In that time Jimmy had also managed to die to a creeper – who needed a wild card to cause deaths round here when the players were foolish enough to do it by themselves?
The little beat that precluded the announcement of the wild card’s arrival had Martyn leaping away from Ren even as his partner cried for him to stay closer, “Hold me Martyn!”
“No! Don’t stand too close! It’s active, don’t come near me!” Who knows what was up with this week (aside from the madman that was Grian), he didn’t want to be too close to anyone!
His heart was thundering in his chest, waiting for anything to change to signal what the week’s gimmick would be. They barely had to wait a second.
“BigB was slain by BigbShell?” Martyn blinked at the death message, trying to make sense of the nonsense.
Then movement caught his eyes and a suspiciously snail shaped creature was speeding down their path. “There! It’s a snail!” He pointed it out to Ren, the Hermit already joining him in running after the strange beast.
“Let’s get it!” Ren shouted, swinging at the snail but causing no damage. “We can’t hit it.”
Martyn gaped as the snail vanished into the distance, “I think I know what this is!” His mind was racing, memories of laughing and jokes round a camp fire so long ago, of Grian bringing up a crazy theoretical about snails. “It’s the snail thing! Can you out run a snail hunting you?! It’s the theory!”
And if BigB’s was anything to go off of, that meant they all had their own snail hunting them for a week. He froze, eyes darting round in search of a green gastropod trying to kill him. Because of course it would be green. Grian didn’t go half hearted – if he made death snails for each of them, he’d make them personalised too.
There went any dreams of a quiet week like the last one.
The green mollusc made an appearance, a bandana tied round the eye stalks in a kind of mockery and clear sign of who it was after. “If it touches you, you die!” He shouted panic blaring as he spotted Ren sneaking closer to a snail approaching him.
And it was getting far too close for comfort. Maybe this week would be full of walking discussions. Feet beating against the ground, he led Ren back towards Gem and Joel’s base, very aware of the sneaking stalkers behind them.
The feeling of having eyes on him was going to make him paranoid, he could already tell. He really needed to find Grian and shake the avian. Martyn really should have been more scared when Grian had made his declaration over two weeks ago now, should have thought about the avian’s tendencies to chaos and what it might mean for those stuck in the game.
Actually, he was also kind of wondering if he could source popcorn from somewhere. This week was about to get very interesting.
Science and at least six deaths later, and Martyn was only getting more unnerved (and reluctantly impressed) by the extent the snails would go to get them. They were barely half a day into the first of the week and the wild card had already proved to be the deadliest yet.
The snails could fly (with cute little helicopter hats!), would follow you across water (but not swim, interestingly enough), and apparently spawn camp if you died close to your bed (poor Bdubs).
Martyn was only incentivised to try more science – the second he could track enough obsidian down he was absolutely leaving his snail in the nether. “I really don’t want to know what you’re called.” He muttered to the snail as he noticed Scar’s death message in chat. Though he was very tempted to turn his base into a giant snail shell – it might deter people based on the PTSD people were already displaying if nothing else.
That was one thing he’d never expected from the game. Snail themed PTSD. Life always liked to surprise him.
“Let’s go back to our place!” Ren called as they started wondering back that way unconsciously, “I want to check if they can get in.” Martyn nodded along as Ren explained more about trapping himself in his base, doubt cresting his brow.
“I think they’ll go turbo if their path finding is obscured.” He tried to warn, already able to picture the gleam in Grian’s eyes as he coded the devilish creatures.
He pulled up his communicator, morbidly wanting to check how many people had already died but his eye caught the tab list, “Timmy and Skizz are already yellow!” And when had that happened? “I wonder if we’ll get our first reds today.” It wasn’t out of the question, especially with how things were going.
Screaming alerted him to how Ren’s plan was going as the Hermit cried for help, falling near where Martyn was sifting through their communal chests, “Ahhhhh! It breaks blocks! It will break blocks!”
“What?” Martyn asked the panicking Ren as he idly watched Ren’s snail helicopter down from the house, his gaze darting to his own still a safe distance away.
“I was in my house and sealed all the entrances and it broke blocks to get to me!” Ren clarified, glaring his mollusc hunter down as it trundled towards him.
Martyn had to laugh at that, moving to put more distance between him and his own snail, “I told you it would go turbo!”
“This is horrifying.”
“This is fantastic.” Martyn cackled at Ren’s terrified face. Oh, this week was going to be incredibly chaotic and you know what? He was kind of here for it.
As long as that green gastropod stayed far away from him that is.
Grian couldn’t resist cackling at the chaos of the snails.
He just wished his teammates weren’t suffering so much. Or rather they weren’t as idiotic as they were. They’d named themselves the spanners aptly apparently.
He hadn’t had long to think about wild cards but was glad he’d remembered the discussion they’d once had about the snails – the gastropods were turning the server into pure chaos. Something they desperately needed if his mad plan was to work.
Grian hadn’t expected the level of chaos however. They were only half way through the week and there had already been over fifteen deaths to the snails alone. At this rate, Grian wasn’t sure they were going to make it many more weeks.
The avian watched Skizz with exasperation, barely resisting the urge to groan as his teammate narrowly avoided stumbling into his snail. Again. Skizz had already died to the thing twice, he really didn’t want to make it thrice.
Unlike his teammates he had managed to avoid death by snail so far – only partially due to having the advantage of knowing what was coming in the beginning. After that he wanted to claim it as skill but honestly it was more luck than anything else.
He turned his eyes away from Skizz unable to watch any longer as he played chicken with his snail. His gaze caught a crop of blue hair approaching from the trees, Scott had his eyes set on Grian and was making a beeline this way.
Grian grimaced at the sight of the god, that look on his face meant trouble and not the fun escape room game kind, more the meddling gods and trapped in another game kind.
“Scott.” He greeted the other calmly as he moved to stand side by side. They may have to have the conversation but they couldn’t stop paying attention to their surroundings.
“Grian. Having fun?” Scott raised a pointed eyebrow, joining Grian in watching the snail chaos. Tango and Bdubs had joined Skizz in conversation, the three keeping wary eyes out for the ever-approaching snails.
Grian glanced around for his own, spotting the red sweatered gastropod approaching, Scott’s colourful mollusc slinking through the trees a little further away. “Maybe we should make this a walking conversation.” He suggested with a resigned sigh. It was his own fault after all – maybe he’d not thought this through enough. He considered that thought for a second, nah, the entertainment and chaos was well worth the annoyance.
Scott nodded in agreement, eyes darting to the snails as they walked in the opposite direction of the pair. “You didn’t answer, having fun with your little molluscs?”
“Absolutely.” Grian gave a sharp grin before it flickered into a frown as he glanced back at his teammates, Mumbo joining Skizz, leaping back like a frightened cat to avoid his snail. “Though I’d prefer my teammates to be more aware of them.”
Scott snorted with a knowing grin at the pair of spanners. “It is a wild idea.”
“Well, that’s the name of the game.” Grian shrugged, lips pulled tight as he caught Scott’s eye, “What is this about Scott? I doubt this is a game related conversation.” He’d had practise with interpreting Scott’s intentions – far too much.
The secret god sighed, running a hand through his blue hair, stars dancing briefly in his eyes as his appearance flickered ever so briefly – antlers appearing and disappearing between one blink and the next. “You heard the prayer, right?”
Grian grimaced as he looked away. He’d heard it alright. Barely two days into the whole mess and he’d heard Cub’s whispered words snake round his head, talking of imprisonment and desperate hopes.
They had no way to respond, no way to reach back out to either group.
“What about it?” He responded, not looking at the other. He’d not shared the news with everyone else so far, not wanting to dampen anyone spirits but he’d caught the looks Scar was giving him – the man having been with him when he got the prayer. Grian would tell them all eventually, maybe the end of the week, he still wasn’t sure. Then again, he didn’t know if Scott had already shared the news – the cat could already be out of the bag.
He wasn’t surprised Scott knew about it either, the others had probably prayed to him as well.
Scott hummed thoughtfully, pausing in his stroll and forcing Grian to stop too, eyes a burning blue as he inspected Grian thoughtfully. Grian winced a little under the intense gaze, air feeling heavy as Scott unleashed some power – intentionally or not, he didn’t know.
“It’s just … odd.” The god declared, expression unreadable. “Useful, undoubtedly but odd.”
“Watchers get prayers.” Grian defended himself, repeating the mantra that had been playing in his head since the voices had started up again. He hated comparing himself to the monsters but it was the only explanation. The only one.
Scott hummed, not in agreement however. “Whatever makes you feel better.” He tilted his head, stars dancing in his eyes despite the sun beaming overhead. “What’s even odder is what Owen said.”
“Oh?” That confirmed Scott had gotten the prayer too, though why the man had waited three weeks to talk about it he didn’t know.
“Apparently Xornoth’s starting to hear some things too.” Scott declared, finally looking away, hands tucked in his pocket as he resumed his stroll, Grian having to scramble a few steps to catch up with the taller man’s gait.
Grian’s brow furrowed, “I heard something about that.” Not much in the chaos of the pirate server mess, but he vaguely recalled something around that ritual circle.
“Strange, isn’t it? That you both start hearing things around the same time.” Scott continued, tone pointed in a way Grian did not appreciate.
The avian shrugged, not seeing the strong coincidence. He had more imminent things to think about. “I mean Jimmy developed wings; it wouldn’t be the weirdest thing to happen round here.”
He caught Scott’s expression soften out of the corner of his eyes. Jimmy had admitted his boyfriend had helped with his wings a few times on one of the occasions Grian had checked in on him. His own wings twitched against his back, bindings firmly stopping them from expressing themselves. Idly he glanced at Scott’s back, the man’s wings missing as they always were in the game. He wasn’t sure he’d like tucking them away, as painful as the binding could be when left too long or done wrong, they were a part of him now, for better or worse.
Scott shook his head, stubborn expression cresting his brow, “No, Jimmy is a champion, he developed them because of his deepened connection with Kristin and his own abilities. This … this is something else.”
Grian sighed, whirling round on the god. “Look Scott, we have a lot to deal with right now, does this really matter right this instant?”
The god looked away, eyes dimming back to normal as he bit his lip with a small shake of his head, “No. I guess not.”
Grian nodded firmly, spinning on his heels to depart (though not the direction they’d come because, you know, snails). A hand on his arm stopped him. He frowned at Scott, unable to read the expression on the man’s face.
“Just … be careful Grian.” Scott asked quietly, “Something big is coming … I can … I can feel it.”
The avian swallowed the lump in his throat that developed at the warning. That building feeling he’d gelt in his chest raising its head in reminder. He knew all too well something was coming.
He offered a nod and his sincerity must have shown as Scott released his grip, small smile slipping into his face as the god got back into game mode. “Well, good luck! Try not to die to your snail!” Then he was gone, somehow blending into the trees.
Grian idly watched the colourful gastropods slither past several moments later, frozen in place as his stomach was unsettled with the weight of everything. A flash of red in the trees had him moving though, it would be just embarrassing to die to his own snail after everything.
He shelved the conversation with Scott to the back of his mind. He had much more important things to focus on – like keeping his team alive.
By the end of the week, there had been twenty-six deaths to the snails alone, and more to mobs, stupidity and pvp. Grian had unfortunately fallen to his own snail – the very vocal Gary – while trying to set up an admittedly stupid trap.
He sat on the highest bridge of his base, watching the sun set on the last day of the week, rest period arriving with the dawn. As much as he wanted to ignore Scott’s warnings and everything going on with him, the god raised a good point.
Something big was coming.
He was just really hoping it wasn’t linked to the power building beneath his skin.
Chapter 4: You Trip And You Fall And You Get Up Again
Notes:
Hello everyone!
Here's chapter 4 - we're back to seeing how the outside group is getting on before the chaos ramps up in the game
I'm enjoying seeing all your theories and thoughts on this!
This chapter title is also from Run by Lydia the Bard
Please join our discord: https://discord.gg/ZcUr4u63aA
Enjoy and thanks for reading!
Robyn
Chapter Text
Xornoth was already sick of his brother’s little server.
Oh, he admired the design and thought put into it, could see his brother’s hard work in every block and flower, could practically feel the time spent on it. But it never meant anything good when he ended up there.
His sleep had been restless. He’d hidden himself away in a little cyan tower, the walls were decorated in sketches and architecture plans, and the whole room was messy. It had taken him a moment to find the bed shoved into one corner, little purple plush sheep sitting pride of place, and he’d had to push back the tears as he recognised the room for what it was – Scott’s base as he built the server.
Xornoth had tossed and turned, feeling the weight of the plush sheep’s eyes as the moon crossed the sky. From the slouched shoulders and tired eyes as he met up with the rest of the group, no one else had gotten much sleep either.
They shared a nod with Xanati as the Helsmit looked up from his communicator – likely checking on the rest of the Helsmit, Xanati could already picture the worried messages Bad would be sending him. With True and Hels amongst the captured Xanati had made no move to leave which didn’t surprise Xornoth in the least. They were worried about them, the Helsmits had taken him in, cared for him, and understood them in a way few others could. They were his friends and they were captured somewhere.
He took a deep breath as he continued, walking past Apo and Bek having a whispered argument, and Xisuma and Fwhip with their heads bent in deep discussion. False was frowning at her communicator, glancing in Xanati’s direction every so often. Xornoth couldn’t help but wonder if she was worried about True? They seemed to have a better relationship than many of the Helsmits with how they’d played together on the second Empire’s world and how True had spoken about her.
It was a horrible reminder that they all had friends and family missing – scattered and stolen. That was why they were all here, to fight for them, to not give up until they had them back. Xornoth could only hope the cost wouldn’t be too high to bare.
Noxite offered a small smile as he settled on one side of him, nodding to Acho on Xornoth’s other side. Acho’s head was ducked, shoulder slumped as he slid down in his chair. Xornoth’s lips pulled tight as they nudged the other, head tilting in silent question. Acho grimaced, opening his mouth once before shutting it tight and shaking his head.
Xornoth debated pushing. If it had been Scott, he knew how to read his little brother’s body language enough to work out when to push and when to back away, but he didn’t know Acho well enough yet. But he did feel responsible for the other. Scott had taken him in, had called him brother and was serious enough about it to introduce him to Xornoth, so Xornoth would look after him until they got Scott back.
Maybe it would stop him from spiralling. Maybe it would quieten the chattering noise constantly thrumming in the back of his head. Maybe it would stop the red creeping into his vision when he was left alone to his thoughts for too long.
Fwhip cleared his throat, the group’s eyes all snapping to the admin. The ginger looked stressed, a feeling Xornoth could relate to all too clearly – they both had a sibling missing after all, but at least he knew his had some power to protect them (not that it would do much if Scott didn’t want to protect himself or rather had people he wanted to protect more).
“Well, some good news.” He offered a weak smile, “Everyone rescued made it home and no one else has gone missing.”
False snorted, scowl heavy on her face, “Yet we’re still missing more people than we were to start with.”
“False.” Xisuma sighed.
She waved a hand, “I know, I know. It’s just … how do we keep ending up here? When does it all end? We defeated the Watchers, it was supposed to be over! It … it was supposed to be over.” Her anger deflated as she slumped back in her seat, sounding more defeated than anything.
Silence lingered for a moment, none able to argue. Xornoth sighed quietly, he’d hoped it was all over, but here they were once again. They could only pray that everyone got out okay – or maybe praying wouldn’t do much with their friends being locked and isolated in their prisons.
“This sucks.” Fwhip admitted, standing up, hands pressed against the table. “I’m not going to deny it. No one wants to be here again, and we can only hope we never are again. But we are and we have to deal with it. So, let’s shelve the misery and despair and focus on helping our friends.”
Xornoth was one of the first to nod, eyes noting everyone doing the same as they stared the admin down. As he looked round the room, he clocked Apo’s frown, narrowing his eyes before the other admin stood up too.
“Hear me out now.” That was never a good start, Xornoth narrowed their eyes at the other, “I think we should focus on those trapped, not those in the game.”
Fwhip’s head snapped round to the other as Acho immediately shouted a protest. Xornoth opened his mouth to do the same, anger burning at the idea of ignoring his brother’s and friends’ struggle.
Apo held her hands up, “I know, I know.” She repeated until the room quietened down again, “Look, it’s horrible to say and I hate it. But. But. We know what’s happening to those in the game, we know they have several weeks until it’s all over.”
“Do we?” Noxite asked, leaning back, the only semi-calm person in the room. Seemingly at least. Xornoth could see the quiet tension in his shoulders, the clench of his jaw and the way he fiddled with his communicator in one hand. He wasn’t remotely calm. “This game isn’t Watcher run, how do we know Adesh will keep to the same patterns?”
Xanati tilted his head to the side, “But don’t we? Adesh is all about order from what you’ve all said. I doubt he’d want the chaos or put the effort into changing up something that works. Apo’s right, we have to assume they’re safe playing their game for now.”
“Safe he says.” Acho snorted, “Because playing in a death game is safe.”
Bek looked visibly conflicted, biting the corner of her lip, “I hate to agree, but they’re right. We can trust Scott and Grian to look after the rest of the group. We need to focus on the others taken.”
False nodded even as she grimaced, “We should have time to help those in the game, we don’t know the same about those Adesh took. They have to be our focus. At least to start with.”
“Plus, we can vaguely communicate with those in the game.” Xisuma nodded, looking to Xornoth who ducked as all the eyes turned on him. “Grian and Scott can get prayers and they can talk to Xornoth.”
“But we have no way to talk back to those captured.” Apo agreed, “We have to rely on them sending us messages to check up on them.”
“But where do we even start?” Bek frowned, hands waving in the air, “We don’t know where they are, can’t get a message to them, and don’t have any way to find them.”
Xornoth hummed in vague agreement, eyes turning unconsciously to Noxite. They still knew very little about this god Adesh but maybe … “What do you know about Adesh, Noxite? Anything that could help us?”
Noxite sighed as all the eyes turned on him, expectantly and even hopeful. The admin slumped further in his seat, expression grim which wasn’t reassuring at all. “Not much admittedly. Scott doesn’t talk about … that kind of thing.” The god stuff, Xornoth could easily read between the lines, not surprising knowing his brother.
“What about the other gods?” Acho asked, sitting up straighter as his brows furrowed.
False pointed to him, “We know Kristin and Dan, but what about others? Would anyone know or be willing to help us?”
The MCC admin’s expression turned thoughtful. “Give me … ten minutes.” And with that he clicked his communicator and vanished leaving the group blinking behind him.
“Well then.” Apo muttered, still looking at where the other admin had been a moment ago.
Fwhip shook his head, pressing on. “Do you think Kristin and Dan would be willing to help again?”
Xisuma exhaled, bringing their communicator onto the table, “It’s worth asking.” Xornoth could only hope the pair of gods would agree – they’d need all the assistance they could get if they were going to stage (another) jail break.
Dan would try, Xornoth was pretty sure, with his previous time as a player and time amongst them. Kristin … Kristin was more doubtful. Maybe they’d want to help but from the mutters Xornoth had overheard from his brother – things weren’t as simple as they wanted them to be.
Quiet mutters and conversations broke out between the group, Fwhip and Xisuma leaning closer to craft a message to the pair of friendly gods. Xornoth found their eyes drifting back to Acho who was doing everything in his ability to not meet Xonroth’s gaze.
The former demon was halted from attempting to force a conversation with the younger player by the return of Noxite. The admin stepped through the door, a dusty leather book clutched tight under one arm.
“What do you have there, Nox?” Xornoth asked, the first to notice his entry. The group’s eyes all latched straight back onto the admin who gave a small nod, crossing the room and dropping the book forcefully on the table. A cloud of dust came off the book sending several people round the table into coughing fits.
The cover was a deep blue, and all Xornoth could focus on as they leaned forward, narrowing their eyes to try and read the loopy script of the title. Acho on his other side beat him to it, “Ancient Deities and Stories.” The player read, eyebrows crinkling, “What’s this?”
“A book.” Nox deadpanned, earing short glares from the majority of the room. Xornoth rolled his eyes at the small smile creeping onto Noxite’s face as the admin slipped back into his seat. “Dan … gave it to me a long time ago. It has some information.” He looked round the room, meeting everyone’s eyes one at a time, “I don’t know how much is reliable but it’s … a start.”
The admin nodded to Xisuma who was almost vibrating with the urge to steal the book. The Hermitcraft admin didn’t wait any longer with the silent permission, snatching the book and leafing through the old coloured pages.
Xornoth kept one eye on him as he leaned closer to Noxite, a question niggling at the forefront of his mind. “Why did Dan give it to you?” And he hadn’t missed the dubious wording from Nox, he doubted it had been as simple as being given to the MCC admin.
Noxite gave him a bittersweet smile, “To help find Scott.”
The former demon leaned back, breath swallowed in his throat and voices around him distant. They’d never been told the full story of how Noxite and Scott had met, barely knew about how Nox had become his brother’s champion – Nox always laughed as Scott blushed and scowled muttering about it being an accident but refusing to elaborate.
He swallowed the emotions, tucking them deep with practised ease. They’d deal with that later, for now Fwhip was asking the important questions.
“Any advice on where to start?” Fwhip asked, leaning close to Xisuma to read over the other admin’s shoulder.
Noxite nodded, “You’ve met Scott, Dan, Kristin and … Adesh.” The group nodded with scowls at the mention of the last name. “But I know there are also a few other members. Techno some of you will know. He’s the war god. Blood too.”
Xornoth frowned, not really recognising the name but knowing now was not the time to ask as the others all nodded along.
“But you won’t have heard of Luan.” Noxite added. “She’s … less involved. Scott doesn’t talk much about her but I know she is something to do with the moon.” Xisuma frowned to himself. Luan, why did that name sound so familiar?
False frowned thoughtfully as the pair of admins flicked to the relevant pages. “Moon? Like Pearl?” She turned to her fellow Hermit. “Xisuma, do you remember the end of season eight?”
Xisuma looked up from the book, passing it off to Fwhip who continued to scan pages. “It’s hard to forget.” He replied. Xornoth didn’t doubt that, the moon crashing into your server would be difficult to forget so soon. He’d had his own share of servers collapsing round him, and it wasn’t an experience they cared to repeat.
“Do you remember how weirdly it affected Pearl or rather didn’t affect her?” False pressed making her admin hum.
“That was odd but …” But the silent rules of Hermitcraft – you didn’t ask or press about any Hermit’s past.
Xanati sat up straighter, muttering. “Moon blessed.”
“What was that?” Acho stared down the MCC admin.
Xanati cleared his throat with a little cough, head snapping to Xornoth. “Do you remember at Kristin’s cottage? She called Pearl moon blessed, mentioned a Luan.”
The memory clicked into place; it had been pushed to the back of his mind with all the chaos that had followed but Xanati was right. “Kristin called Pearl a champion. One of Luan’s.” It was why she’d been able to help them get messages into Pirates – she’d been a champion.
“Do you think Luan would help then?” False pursed her lips, eyes locked onto Noxite as their resident god expert.
Noxite shook his head, uncertain, “I don’t know. Scott was never … complimentary on Luan’s relationship with her champions but … it might be worth asking anyway. Carefully.”
“Carefully?” Acho didn’t miss the addendum.
“I know she supports Adesh’s views on certain things.” Noxite admitted, “But with Pearl …” He shrugged, expression troubled.
False cut in, “If she’d only help Pearl then she wouldn’t be helpful for finding the others.” She didn’t look happy to be making the argument she was, frown tugging at her lips.
“Okay. We shelf that idea.” Fwhip muttered, “At least until we’re more desperate.”
Xornoth stifled a snort, they didn’t doubt they’d reach that level of desperation eventually. The only uncertainty was how long it would take them.
“And we’re back to square one.” Apo rubbed a tired hand over her face, slumping back in her seat.
Bek tapped her fingers against the table, biting her lip thoughtfully. “How did Adesh find us?” She turned her titled head to the group of admins around the table. The recovered group had only been given a quick overview of what had happened to rescue them, not details. “In Pirates, I mean?”
Apo frowned in agreement, “Yes, how did he? I know Scott put protections on the server. Were they not enough to stop another god?”
“No.” Xisuma sat up straighter, glancing to Fwhip and Noxite to back him up. “No. Kristin and Dan said those protections should keep out even gods.”
Fwhip nodded quickly, book splayed open on the table in front of him. “It’s why we struggled to get messages in. We had to … adapt the ritual.” Xornoth didn’t miss the glance in his direction.
“Those imp things!” Xanati jolted up, pointing a finger round the room.
“Imp things?” Bek blinked, bewildered. Apo and Acho looked equally confused.
“Sprites.” Noxite corrected with a sigh. “They hang around the godly realm. Cause mischief mainly and occasionally help.”
Xornoth nodded along, “Kristin saw one place a tracker on Scott during their last meeting. They thought Adesh used it to find a crack in the protections and slip through.”
False’s eyebrows were almost hidden in her hair in disbelief, mouth opening once then twice before she finally spoke. “Is there any way we can use that against Adesh? Try the same strategy?”
Xornoth winced, “They certainly seemed … enthusiastic.” He shared a look with Xisuma and Fwhip. Chaotic but enthusiastic. Frankly they had too much energy for them but if they could help them find the others …
“That’s saying the least.” Xanati snorted, arms crossed.
Noxite pursed his lips, head tilted as he thought, “Maybe … I’ll message Dan, see if he can talk to a few.”
“Why Dan?” Acho asked, more curious than anything as he glanced at Noxite. “Why not Kristin?” Xornoth hummed in agreement, that was a good question. Noxite seemed friendly with both the gods but Kristin had been helping them longer, so why ask Dan specifically?
“Because Kristin is stuck playing a certain part.” Noxite’s shoulder slumped, eyes dark as he didn’t look anyone in the eye. “She’s older … I know that much. Dan is young still though, more likely to help us, less bound by old rules. If we want the best chance of recruiting help then it is Dan.”
Xornoth tuned out the rest of the meeting, feeling like he was underwater, words from Xisuma and Fwhip muffled as they called the end of the meeting. His eyes didn’t waver from Noxite who wouldn’t look his way.
Something in him sang. Rules. Bound. Why did that sound so familiar? Why did it bring red and cackles and destruction flashing through his mind?
They vaguely saw the others leave the room, barely registered Acho hesitate near him before eventually leaving as he saw Xornoth wouldn’t be. Quickly it was just him and Noxite left behind.
“Is Scott bound?” The question was sharp, a burning in his chest and vision blurry as veins of red crept across it.
“Xornoth …”
“Is Scott bound?” Xornoth ignored Noxite’s quiet plea. He needed to know.
Noxite sighed, muttering something under his breath as he rubbed his forehead, pained. “Yes and no.”
“What does that even mean, Nox?” Xornoth blinked his vision back to normal, shoving the feelings and questions over what it meant deep down to deal with later. “Is that why he didn’t tell us?”
“No. no.” Noxite jumped to deny before sighing as he leaned back. “That was just him being him. Look, it’s complicated, okay? And I can’t say I fully understand it. But …”
“But …?”
“The longer they’ve been around, the more … fixed they become. More bound to patterns and rules.” Noxite whispered. “It’s why you see the same stories repeated through history, the same fights and hopes. Scott’s stubborn, they all are, but he’s old. You know that. He’s tangled in his bindings as much as he wants to deny it. As hard as he tries to fight it.”
“That’s why he didn’t fight the Watchers.” Xornoth frowned, knowing from all his brother’s angry mutterings how much he’d wanted to.
“Partially.” Noxite agreed with a vague shrug, “He also knew it was Grian’s right; he knew the story had to end a certain way and could only do so much before it reached that point.”
“What about this?” Xornoth swallowed the lump in his throat. They didn’t fully explain it, wasn’t sure they were supposed to, but something in his heart sang that it was right.
His mind flashed back to his childhood, to one of many servants who were ordered to watch his brother and him, the one who liked to tell stories. Stories of wrong and right, dark and light, night and day, betrayal and love. They’d always made sure to emphasise nothing was as it seemed, adding twists to the tales or complications that painted everyone in confusing lights. They hadn’t understood then, but maybe they were starting to now.
Noxite shrugged, “Honestly, I don’t know. Maybe this is another in an endless pattern of stories that need to be told, or maybe the gods have gone off script. Either way, I don’t think we can rely on anyone else to save us.”
“We fight for our own.” Xornoth agreed, that was something he understood and fully supported. He needed to save Scott, just to shout and scream at him for getting into yet more trouble.
“We do.” Noxite managed a real smile, albeit a small one as he shuffled to his feet. “Now I have messages to send and you have other people you need to talk to.” Xornoth followed his gaze to the doorway where a figure in a long coat stood waiting hesitantly – Acho.
“Take care of yourself Noxite.”
“You too, Xornoth.” The admin nodded, hand hovering over his communicator, “See you soon.” And then he was gone, leaving Xornoth alone in the heavy atmosphere of the near empty meeting room. They had an honorary brother to talk to.
Eloise was very sick of her cell.
Time was hard to measure with no working communicators – Zedaph’s had lasted the longest but even his had died eventually. Meals seemed to arrive randomly, like their captor forgot they needed food – she was just glad they were getting food as it had been a quite concern in the back of her mind the first day.
She was stuck in close quarters with Owen – nothing new sadly, but she’d never been this close for so long. Owen was currently pacing in the cell – an achievement considering he could barely get five steps across before having to turn around – muttering under his breath.
El watched him idly, rolling her eyes as she lay on the hard platform they had for a bed, head hanging off upside down. It had been at least three days from what they could all work out and conversations had died out after the first day and a half. They’d covered the basics – who was who, how they got here, the disaster of a rescue plan etc etc.
The quiet was starting to drive her insane. Owen’s repetitive steps only made it worse. Tap, tap, tap as he walked the five steps then a scuff as he spun and then tap, tap, tap back. Over and over.
“Could you not?!” She finally snapped as Owen spun for another lap, bouncing off the grey walls.
Her former fellow Heron turned on her, “Not what?” his steps continued, reaching the other end of the cell, her head turning to follow.
“Stop the pacing.” She sat up, ignoring the head rush and brief dizziness from moving so fast. “We’re stuck here! You’re not going to magically find another way out that we haven’t already thought of so just sit down please.”
“You don’t know that.” Owen snapped back, the tension that had been thrumming in the cell coming to a boil. “At least I’m trying to do something instead of lazing around uselessly!”
“Well, you-!” El fumed, words failing her as anger consumed her.
“Would you both shut up?” A voice came from the cell diagonally across, one of the Helsmits – which was a wild discovery in itself, the pair had spent a while trying to explain that. “We can all hear you, ya know?” She was pretty sure it was False’s opposite – True she thought was her name.
“We’re never getting out of here!” Seapeekay moaned dramatically, Sausage joining in with his own dramatic cries.
“Oh great, you’ve got them going again.” Cub mumbled from the cell across, voice carrying.
Another lovely thing about their new accommodation – absolutely no privacy. El could picture the trip advisor review she’d write:
0 stars, grey, no windows, no privacy and no entertainment. Would not recommend.
“Do you think they got our messages?” Ros asked worriedly.
Water, the former Nightingale’s cell mate, whispered comforts to her as Shubble spoke up, “Scott will have heard us. He’ll help.”
The other Helmsit – Hels snorted, “Please. They all got taken too. They have to escape their own mess before they can help us.”
El shared a look with Owen, their earlier anger forgotten – neither had really been angry at the other anyway, just the horrible situation they were in. Both knew the games were bad when the Watchers had run them and doubted Adesh would be any better of a puppet master.
“Apo got out.” Kuervo announced. “She’ll be trying to find us.”
“And Fwhip!” Sausage cried out, cutting out his dramatic whines.
“And Xisuma is outside.” Cub added, “No one has forgotten us.”
“They’re right.” Owen chimed in, raising his voice so everyone could hear across the cells. “We can’t give up hope. The others may be trapped but we still have friends on the outside. People who are undoubtedly fighting to find us as we speak.”
El grimaced. She knew Bek would scream and fight if they did anything different – she’d do the exact same in her position. But finding them when they had no idea where they were and had to deal with a god to do so? That wasn’t an easy feat, even if they did have a couple of gods on their own side according to the others.
It was hard to keep hope staring at the grey walls. Pirates had been a prison but it had been a beautiful one, and one with many a distraction to keep you occupied. Plus, they’d had hope and plans of escape.
Now they were stuck in darkness with infrequent meals and no signs of anyway to escape.
Silence lingered between the cells, only the sound of breathing echoing in the dim light of wherever they were.
She swallowed, the burning need to do something and for the quiet to go away before she went crazy building to a breaking point. “How about we go over it all again?”
Owen frowned but nodded to her as he sat cross legged next to her, El sank down to join him, knees bumping in silent comfort. They’d run through everything they knew and any idea they could think of to escape or figure out more about where they were three times already but she needed to do something.
They all did.
“Okay.” Shubble agreed, “So, first - communicators …”
Chapter 5: Time flies when you're ... causing chaos?
Notes:
Hello everyone!
This week we're back in the game and seeing what everyone is scheming up as well as how they're enjoying the game
Join us over on discord: https://discord.gg/ZcUr4u63aA
I'm glad you're all enjoying, thank you for reading! I love seeing all your theories and ideas
Robyn
Chapter Text
Martyn stared at the bee in the boat in confusion.
He had a dozen questions – why was it in the boat? Who’d left the boat there? Why was it outside their base? Why had he just had to clean up a dozen dead salmon with no culprit in sight?
And why was he so befuddled by a bee?
On a server where they strived for chaos, there were limits. Martyn chuckled to himself as he abandoned the bee to its fate, a new week dawning bright and sunny. His chuckles died as he returned to the base, planning to find his partner in crime (specifically murder after last week’s incredible invisi-snail plot). Half way up the water stream to Ren’s tower and his plans for trick and treating were foiled as he heard his partner shout up from below.
They greeted each other warmly, but the idea of a trick wouldn’t leave Martyn’s head and after last week it was far too easy. “By the way, your snail’s behind you!”
Seeing the way Ren jumped in the air and let out a little shriek was far too satisfying. Grian had created a monster, and more importantly long-term trauma, after his crustacean creations last week.
“You know I genuinely panicked for a moment there.” Ren admitted, hand on his heart as he discovered the lack of snail behind him. Martyn just grinned – that much had been obvious. “I’m just starting to recover from last week.”
“I’m not recovered.” Martyn snorted. The paranoia from their shelled stalkers was going to linger even as he joked about it. He shook his head, “Right, before the wild card starts, what’s the plan for the week and how will it go wrong? Let’s hear the jinx.” So far, all their master plans had been derailed by the wildcards and spelled their doom, Martyn was morbidly curious to see if it would continue to happen.
Ren ran through his updates on planting trees around the base for protection and feelings on the murder of Impulse from the previous week, reminding them of their situation – Ren was yellow while Martyn remained green – and how they’d have to do something about it. Martyn was entirely on board with that; chaos was his middle name.
The rain felt like a sign.
Martyn felt the first drops before it became a solid downpour as Ren collected something out of a nearby chest. He didn’t get a chance for his show and tell before the familiar message of the wild card started.
He felt himself tense unconsciously; mind racing to try and work out what it could be. So far, they’d been able to change size, food had gone weird and then they’d been chased by killer snails. Apparently, anything could be in store for them.
Martyn did not expect to be frozen.
“Oh, oh god.” He cried out as a warbling noise echoed across the server, piercing as it rang out, and he lost all control of his limbs, “Wait hold on, are we time slipping?”
“Is the server broken?” Ren asked, reluctant hope peeking through that was quickly dashed as they struggled to move but everything else remained the same. No easy escape for them, not enough chaos yet.
Martyn tried to command his limbs but found it like screaming at a blank wall, nothing changed. They’d been completely frozen. How was this going to work? Surely something had to change as they couldn’t play the game like this.
“Maybe there’s a freeze then it will all kick in all of a sudden?” Martyn suggested. That would be dangerous. Everything they press suddenly happening before they refreeze – he wasn’t excited if that was how the week would go.
Then his limbs started to move, very slowly, like he was fighting through slime or thick honey and he clocked what was happening – time had been messed with. Grinning, he purposefully slowed his voice, laughing as Ren did the same and they ran towards each other.
“Is the whole week going to be like this?” Martyn asked, elongating every syllable to match their speed.
“It’ll be a rather painful week.” Ren bemoaned – very slowly. He had to give it to his partner, if it was this slow it was going to be a test of patience. And he didn’t think half the server had much patience.
They spent a while enjoying themselves, throwing things, and trying a water bucket clutch (which Martyn absolutely nailed if you had to ask), before deciding they better go see what the rest of the server was up to.
Fighting.
That’s what the rest of the server was doing below the mountain. Fighting amongst themselves in slow motion with very little success. Grian called a ceasefire as they arrived, the group all laughing as he and Ren showed up with their slow voices.
Dispersing from the rest of the group after Scar finally got a kill on Etho, Martyn had fun talking with Joel – the family member joining him in talking slow.
“I think we’re going to get real fast at the end.” He vaguely clocked Scott’s conversation with Pearl behind him, but kept his focus on joking with Joel. Scott was likely right – the guy had an odd knack of guessing the wild card from what he’d heard. Maybe he was in tune with Grian’s brand of chaos or something, Martyn didn’t really focus much on it, they had so many more things to deal with than Scott’s oddities (for once).
Martyn had to choke back a cackle as he heard Cleo chime in, “I hate this so much.” She groaned, “Not the slowness but these guys.” And there was no mistaking who she meant.
He was proud to annoy.
A couple hours later, he found himself on the bridge with Tango, Bdubs, and Etho (or the Tuff guys he was pretty sure they called themselves).
“We’re definitely getting faster.” Tango noted amongst a conversation on what they’d originally thought was the wild card for the week. “Fast is going to be crazy.”
It absolutely was, and Martyn was really looking forward to it. The chaos would be delicious. He listened to Bdubs petition for iron, the smaller man bouncing around as he tried to convince him to give poor Tango iron.
“You can give us a target.” Bdubs suggested, gesturing to his very red teammate, “Give us a target and supply the iron.”
“You know I can get behind that.” Martyn considered. And really there was only one target he could give, “Go for Scott, why not?” It would be hilarious to watch Tango’s attempts to kill Scott – one thing he could give the other was his ability to not die in these games (at least to other people unwillingly).
“Go for the hardest one of course.” Etho mumbled from behind him, almost drowned out by Tango and Bdubs excitement. Iron handed over and well wishes given, he said his goodbyes, returning to his base and making a mental note to see how that all went later.
He found Impulse and Pearl plotting in his base with Ren. Apparently, they really wanted Grian dead. Another understandable and yet, difficult, target. Leaving them to it, he decided to go for the much calmer task of collecting jungle trees to develop their base. He still kind of wanted to give their towers shells like the snails.
He hummed to himself as he gathered the wood, enjoying the time alone and chance to think. As much as he loved teaming with Ren, it was hard sometimes to stay in the moment and not think back to the desert so long ago. He knew the other thought the same sometimes, catching the held back words or looks out of the corner of his eyes.
Neither of them brought-up deserts or axes. And they were quite happy as a team of two. Although he didn’t think they were capable of avoiding the drama - that was just a guarantee with the two of them around.
It was different. Playing with everyone remembering. All those times he’d had to hold himself back from mentioning something before, or the odd moments where something would be familiar but he couldn’t place it were gone. They all knew exactly why they were there.
Which also made it difficult. They’d been free. They’d fought for their escape only to find themselves puppets in a new game. And this time escape wasn’t as easy (not that the last one had been easy) – they only had a vague plan (which was also better than the past games) and a lot of hope.
Plus, the secretive god in their midst and whatever Grian was. Look, the avian may not admit it but Martyn wasn’t blind. Something was different with him. Hopefully it was a helpful different but only time would tell. As usual, Scott wasn’t being helpful on that front.
Martyn sighed as he dug his axe into the last tree. He’d gotten enough wood and spent enough time lost in his own thoughts. Time to head home and have a quiet afternoon building (and not thinking).
Martyn’s peaceful day was interrupted twice.
First, by Skizz who he ended up giving a quick lesson on how to be a menace. The man really needed it – he was far too nice for this game, as proven by his red name.
The second was more subtle and somehow, he’d almost been expecting it.
“Pearl, I can see you.” He called as he spotted her skulking round the walls as Skizz bounced happily down the path, menace in his heart.
“Good, you were meant to.” She called, jumping onto the wall, eyes tracking Skizz’s disappearing figure. A private conversation then. “You doing anything?”
“Right now?” Martyn raised a pointed eyebrow. They were about half way through the week now, and as such, were back to around normal speed which felt kind of odd after being slow for so long. “Not really, why?”
Pearl shrugged, sticking to the shadows and forcing Martyn to keep moving to keep her in sight. “A couple of us wanted to talk. Figured you’d want to join.”
“Oh?” He asked before he caught the expression on her face, and the meaning became clearer. “Oh. Yeah, I’m in.” The darkness lingering at the edges of her face he’d seen before – during their little meetings in the past games. But they didn’t have to be secret anymore, everyone remembered, everyone knew. Which meant this was something slightly different.
“Let’s go.” Pearl nodded once and Martyn followed her into the trees as the sun started to set in the distance, casting long shadows all around them. A secretive meeting in deed.
Cleo scowled at the fading sun – it was disappearing slightly faster than normal, a sign the wild card was still active. The shadows stretched around her, elongating the trees surrounding her in the fading light. It was slightly risk having a meeting in the middle of the week without the safety of the grace period if some mob disturbed their meeting, but Cleo wasn’t eager to wait.
Quiet mutters broke through the silence of the forest hidden behind the island she called home. They clutched their sword tight in their hand, caution thrumming through her veins. A thud and series of cursing had her relaxing her grip, recognising the voice.
Pearl’s cackle reached them before their teammate broke the treeline into the little clearing Cleo had set up in near the boundary. Martyn scowled at her, the source of the cursing as he marched through the dense forest. Cleo’s lips curled in amusement as the two grinned at her.
“Nice to see you two finally.” They grinned, enjoying Martyn’s roll of eyes and mutters as Pearl only laughed more.
“You didn’t give me much notice.” Martyn crossed his arms as he leaned against the nearest tree.
“I sent Pearl.” Cleo laughed as Pearl nodded at Martyn. That was notice enough.
The blond rolled his eyes again, shaking his head at the pair before looking around. “This everyone?” He looked round the clearing, noticing the lack of other people lurking.
Cleo shook their head, sharing a look with Pearl. “We’re waiting on one more.” As if on cue, a series of loud curses and crashing came from the forest to the side of where Martyn and Pearl had appeared from. A moment later Scar came crashing through the forest, leaves covering him and a stray twig in his hair.
“Nice of you to join us Scar.” Cleo teased as the man dusted himself off.
“Cleo!” Scar greeted them jovially, all team animosity temporarily forgotten. “Thanks for the invite, what’s the party for?”
She caught the spark in his eye, despite the dumb pretence Scar liked to play up, he could be wickedly smart and observant. He knew or at least had a very good idea why they were all together away from everyone else.
“Figured we should have a talk.” They shrugged, eyes lingering on their little group. They covered half the alliances on the server between them so they had a very good idea of what was going on. Plus, not having to keep any secrets or pretend to have no memories was a bonus in that regard.
“It’s a tradition at this point.” Pearl announced, dropping to sit on the ground, cross legged. “Winner’s circle and all that.” Both Cleo and Scar had won games since the Watchers defeat.
Martyn nodded with a snort with little humour, “Welcome to the club.” His eyes narrowed at Cleo as the culprit for the meeting, “But what’s with the missing members and break in normal routine?”
Pearl answered for her, “Less suspicious mid-week, and it’s kinda rude to talk about people when they’re here.”
“I thought it was rude to talk about people behind their backs.” Scar cut in but Cleo just waved him off.
“You know what we mean.”
“So, this is about Scott and Grian?” Martyn clarified, looking entirely unsurprised as he slid down to sit, back to the tree. Scar joined him, waving the decorated cherry blossom cane he had lose in one hand before slumping to a sitting position. Cleo looked over them all before sitting on the only stump in the clearing.
“Who else but those idiots?” Pearl sighed, rubbing a hand over her face.
Cleo hummed, eyes locked on Pearl, “Before that though – and we will get to those idiots – what exactly happened when we were on Pirates.” Half of the group didn’t have the answers she’d wanted and those that did (namely Pearl, Jimmy, Scar and Grian) they either hadn’t had a full chance to talk to or hadn’t wanted to share.
“That’s a good point.” Martyn pointed an accusing finger at Pearl, the only one of them to have not been trapped on Pirates. “What happened? Was that DanTDM I saw?”
Pearl sighed again, “A lot happened.”
“You don’t say.” Cleo murmured. Jimmy suddenly had wings after all.
“Right, okay. Short version.” Pearl looked between them seeing she wasn’t getting out of the explanations. “Figured out you guys were trapped. Talked to various people who led us to Kristin and then Dan, who turns out – also a god. Don’t ask.” She held up a hand to stop Scar’s question as the other player pointedly opened their mouth.
The first winner within their group took a deep breath before continuing, “Then we tried to contact you guys but because the server had protections it didn’t work, but we broke through with some altered ceremony focused on champions etc that Kristin came up with. Decided to send in a team to free you and distract Adesh while the friendly gods got people out … but that obviously backfired.”
She didn’t say. Cleo had seen a lot of people charge in to help, and between them being trapped and Adesh grabbing anyone else left – the ratio of people escaping couldn’t have been good.
“That does not explain Timmy suddenly having wings.” Martyn pushed, curiosity untameable and concern lingering for one of his oldest friends.
Pearl shrugged, “It happened when we did one of the ceremonies, something about him connecting to his patron and true self? We didn’t really get an explanation.”
“A literal canary.” Martyn mused, the colour of the wings was rather distinctive after all.
Cleo frowned, ignoring Martyn’s mutters, “Champions? What do you mean by that Pearl?”
Pearl’s expression dipped, uncertainty shining bright before she covered it with a more casual look that didn’t fool any of the group. Spotting the trio of raised eyebrows aimed her way, she sighed, running a hand over her face. “Right. Obviously, Jimmy is Kristin’s champion alongside Phil who jumped in to help, but Nox is Scott’s – and refuses to share the story by the way.” She waved off the obvious ones, her eyes going to the stars moving ever so slightly too fast in the sky above them.
“I’m …” She cleared her throat hesitating before turning to Scar, “Remember during the moon incident, how I wasn’t affected quite like everyone else?” Scar nodded, having spent more time with her in Boatem as Cleo did her best not to flinch at the reminder of the disastrous end of season eight.
“Yeah!” He nodded thoughtfully, “You weren’t as floaty as the rest of us.”
Pearl nodded, “I’m moon-blessed. Something I knew for a while but turns out it means I’m another god’s champion. Scott … Scott told me her name is Luan, the lady of the moon.”
Cleo watched her carefully, noting the way her hands curled into fists and the warring expressions on her face. Pearl still didn’t know what to think about it, she decided, doing their friend the mercy of moving on before either of the curious pair beside her could poke more.
“Right. But that’s only four. I’m pretty sure I remember the original ritual needed more, right?” She’d only seen it once when she was swapped out but it was pretty rememberable.
Pearl grimaced, “Which brings us to part of the reason we’re here. Something’s up with Grian.” She paused, head tilted in consideration, “Xornoth too actually, but they’re not here.”
“You noticed that?” Scar asked, shoulders slumped as he glanced round the rest of the group.
“Mate, it’s hard to miss. I’ve barely seen the man with pirates and all that but there is clearly something up with him. Something more than normal.” Martyn snorted without any humour.
Cleo narrowed her eyes at Scar, if anyone was to know anything … “What do you know Scar?”
The builder hesitated but caved under the weight of three pairs of worried eyes. “He was … worried before I got stuck on pirates. He’s been trying to train me on my new powers.” Pearl and Cleo shared a groan at the reminder – the pair were chaotic enough without eldritch powers. “But … something was up with his, and he ... he told me he was hearing prayers again. More than he used to, different to how he used to.”
“What does that even mean?” Pearl muttered, half to herself. Scar shrugged in answer regardless.
“Something is wrong with Grian.” Cleo sighed, closing her eyes briefly, “And as always, something is up with Scott.”
Martyn snorted, as he leaned back, arms stretched out behind him as he tilted his head to the stars, “That’s nothing new. As bad as it is to say, at least we know why Scott is being weird.”
Another god coming in and messing with people you care about while being able to do exactly nothing about it had to suck. Plus, Scott was always weird in these games – though why now made more sense than it had before. Still, his state after Pirates with Acho’s death had her worried. He was always … fragile in the games with his self-sacrificial tendencies but at least she and Pearl were teamed with him this time to keep an eye on him. And Impulse. They couldn’t write him out of the picture.
“So, what’s the plan here?” Pearl asked the others, “What’s our goal?”
“We have two idiots with no self-preservation.” Cleo sighed, “We keep an eye on them. Let them run the game the way they want but come up with a backup – some way to help without them getting hurt.”
Martyn leaned back forward, a spark to his eyes, “You mean we go behind their backs?”
“Not necessarily.” Cleo shook their head, “Just … see how the game plays and maybe come up with an alternative strategy to get us all out together safely.” They desperately wanted Grian’s plan of causing chaos to work but she was quietly doubtful.
Pearl swallowed, “I think we should bring in Jimmy.”
She held up her hand as the rest of the group reacted with various questions or adamant refusals. “Listen.” She continued, talking over them until they admitted defeat and quietened down enough to hear what she had to say. “Look, Jimmy is a champion too. He might be able to help between me and him. Plus … he cares and knows Grian and Scott well, maybe better than us at times.”
“Differently where Scott is concerned.” Martyn mumbled, backing down where Pearl shot him a glare.
“Could he lie to them though?” Cleo asked, biting their lip, they didn’t want the pair to find out about their little group pre-emptively and try to stop them to ‘protect them’ or something – the idiots.
Martyn hummed on it, “If it came down to it, if it was to protect them?” he shared a look with Pearl, the pair having known Jimmy the longest and best, “Absolutely.”
“Okay.” Cleo sighed with a nod, “We bring in Jimmy and keep an eye on things. Try and help from the shadows. Everyone in?”
“Yep.”
“I’m in.”
“Let’s do this.”
Grian hummed as he took a brief moment to work on expanding the spanner’s base. The serious of bridges across the mountain was maybe more perilous a base than he should have considering his teammates, but it is what they had.
And between the three of them, it was probably for the best he worked on improving it. His partners in crime (or disaster more accurately) had better things to be worrying about – like getting themselves some lives back.
He kept his humming up, an odd tune he didn’t know the words to but felt right, as he placed some more slabs. The speed was fun this week, watching everyone try and fight at the start when they were all super slow had been highly entertaining. And he didn’t doubt the superspeed they were slowly building up to would be any less enjoyable to watch.
“Base is looking good.” Grian jumped a foot in the air, wings straining against their bindings, eager to fan out and defend him from the invader. Whirling on said invader he spotted a smug Scott watching a few feet down the bridge, eyes bright with mischief.
Grian had a hand on his racing heart, “I should get you a bell if you’re going to keep doing this!” Why was Scott so good at just suddenly appearing. And being sneaky in general actually, the blue haired man was sacredly good at it.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Scott grinned unrepentantly as he stepped closer, surveying the base with what he tried to portray as casual interest, “Where’s the wonder duo you call teammates?” Grian’s eyes narrowed, catching the edge of intensity in Scott’s eyes.
“Trying to actually do something useful for once.” Grian shrugged, narrowed eyes not leaving Scott, “What are you doing here?”
It was Scott’s turn to shrug, “Well two of my teammates vanished into the forest and the other is gathering supplies, so.”
“So, you thought you’d come bother me?” Grian huffed, turning back to his work placing some slabs. He had to get the angle of this bridge, just right. It might be a death game but the base didn’t need to look terrible. And there really had been some … questionable bases in the too many games they’d done at this point.
Scott grinned, teeth a little too sharp, “Well you know how it is. Besides, I had a conversation the other week that I thought might you want to hear about. Everyone’s always going on about sharing and not keeping secrets and all that.”
Grian froze, slab in hand as he slowly turned back to the smirking blue haired man. “What does that mean? What conversation?”
As he looked up, Scott’s grin had vanished, eyes glowing dimly as they turned frosty. “Adesh decided to pay me a visit.” He admitted quietly, voice low so no one listening in would be able to hear.
“And?” Grian swallowed the lump in his throat at that news. He doubted Adesh had anything good to say.
“And he wasn’t overly pleased with your little game adjustments.” Scott sighed, grimacing smile quirking up on one side of his face, “That’s not surprising news to either of us though.”
No, it wasn’t. It was kind of what they’d been going for even. Getting Adesh so mad as to interfere and give them a chance to escape. Scott’s grimace wasn’t giving hope for that plan working, but he didn’t want to kill the only spark of hope he had, not asking about it directly.
“Anything else important?” He asked, watching Scott’s expression carefully. The deity may be sharing more than normal but that didn’t necessarily mean much. They’d been expecting Adesh to be angry but he strongly doubted the other deity had appeared just to let Scott know that.
Scott’s smile dipped completely, brows crinkling slightly as he looked uncertain, half turning away to gaze across the server. Grian followed his gaze, spotting Lizzie chatting with Tango as Bdubs bounced around Etho and Gem. Further away, Joel and Jimmy were by the former’s car, arms waving in full blown conversation.
“Scott.” Grian pressed gently. If something important had been said he needed to know.
“Aside from being very angry in general and blaming you for a lot of it?” Scott said ruefully, a more sincere shine to his eyes, “Honestly, Grian there wasn’t really much discussed.”
Grian waited, staring him down as Scott traced the players’ movements below. After a long few moments, Scott sighed. “I asked about the others.”
“Those he took from pirates?” Grian clarified, standing up straighter. They’d both gotten the prayer from the group but had heard nothing more and had no way of reaching back out.
Scott nodded, grimace telling Grian it wasn’t good news even as he pressed, “And?”
“They’re contained, that’s what Adesh said.” Scott waved his hands with a shake of his head.
“Nothing else?”
“Nothing else.” Scott’s frown deepened before he looked back to Grian, “But Grian, he underestimates them. Thinks players weak in general. He’s not spent enough time around players to know how categorically false that is.”
“You think that could be an advantage for us?” Grian’s brows crinkled, mind whirling to try and figure out what to do with that info.
Scott shrugged, “It’s something at least. We’ve got to trust those outside the game.”
“I know -.”
“It’s just hard.” Scott finished knowingly, rueful smile in place as he turned round so his back was leaning against the rope of the bridge. Grian watched him for a long moment, trying to decide if he should ask or not. Scott’s eyebrows raised higher even as they inspected the mountainside, “You should just ask.”
Grian rolled his eyes but did so, hesitation gone. “Was Adesh always like this?” From the way Kristin and Scott talked about him, Grian couldn’t see how he had but it was better to ask. Know thy enemy and all that.
Scott’s face was wiped of any expression, eyes taking on an icy shine as he stared at the sun high above them with a deep sigh. “This extreme? No. Convinced players were pretty unworthy, that’s not new. But … but he normally wouldn’t go this far, wouldn’t do anything about it.”
“Which is why you were all so surprised by his actions on Pirates.” Grian put together. None of the gods had been expecting it but they also hadn’t been overly surprised when it was explained.
The blue haired god hummed, “The unbalance is unsettling. Me and the others? We mostly have things to fall back on or have accepted the inevitability. Adesh has never been good at that part.” Scott shook his head, expression closing off further.
Grian opened his mouth to try his luck and push further, but a new voice interrupted, “What you doing?” His wings fought their bindings in surprise as he looked in sync with Scott to find Gem standing at the other edge of the bridge with a grin.
Once they’d noticed her, she strolled down to join them, head tilting, “You looked to be in deep discussion, anything serious?” There was an edge to her tone, a warning that she hadn’t missed that it was the two of them having a private talk.
Grian risked a quick glance at Scott’s tight frame before shaking his head and plastering on a smile, “Nah, he just got bored and decided to scare me to death. You know what Scott’s like.”
Gem’s hard gaze lingered before nodding slowly. Maybe not accepting the story but not pushing. Scott shot him a thankful, albeit confused glance for not spilling his conversation with Adesh. Frankly, Grian didn’t think it would help for everyone to know they’d succeeded in making a god angry and their friends were still trapped – it wasn’t like it was new or useful information.
Maybe Scott’s bad habits were rubbing off on him.
“You’re teammates not around?” Gem turned on Scott.
He shook his head, his own grin plastered on, and to his credit it almost reached his eyes. “Nah, Impulse decided to gather some resources and Cleo and Pearl wondered off somewhere.” He nodded to their island in the distance, “Your idiot talking with mine still?”
Gem groaned, “Urgh, I could not handle any more of the two of them. Honestly, they need to get a room at this point.” Grian joined the pair in laughing, slight tension in the air fading under genuine good cheer. Gem’s brows crinkled as she added on, “I thought I saw Pearl stroll off into the woods, and Martyn following her weirdly.”
That was kind of odd, Grian frowned even as he mentally shrugged it off, waving his hand, “They’re probably just planning some scheme or Pearl’s leading him into something. He glanced to Scott.
Scott raised his hands in surrender, “If she is, it’s nothing I know about.” He turned a pointed grin on Gem, “Besides, what’s going on with you and Pearl?”
Gem groaned again, turning away from their watching eyes to look across the server. It may be a silly base considering his teammates, but it did have good views Grian thought.
“I don’t know?” She waved her hands as she spoke, lips pursed and brows pinched, “Like I know where we stand on Hermitcraft but she gets all …”
“Murder-y?”
“Psycho?”
Scott and Grian offered at the same time, sharing a grin as Gem rolled her eyes and continued, “Yeah, that, during the games so its hard to tell. Like last time she wanted to team up? But then we killed each other a bit so …” She shrugged, “I don’t know where we stand.”
“I think she just likes annoying you.” Scott offered, “Like pulling pigtails, she wants to be friends but doesn’t know how to.”
“Like a wet cat.” Grian offered with a grin already able to picture the offended noise his sister would make at his comment.
“Well, she’s certainly annoying.” Gem grumbled but she was smiling. “Besides, I have a teammate. As frustrating as he is sometimes. If something happens down the line, then I don’t know.” She sighed.
Scott moved forward to offer her a pat on the shoulders. “It’ll work out, don’t worry too much about it. We’ve got enough drama going on as it is.” Grian snorted, that was certainly an understatement. Scott continued, ignoring him. “Let things happen as they happen and enjoy the game for now.”
“Thanks.” Gem smiled at the pair.
Grian shrugged, “Trust us, we’ve been there.” He forgot sometimes how new Gem was to the games. While they were all playing their sixth, this was only her second, and as such she wasn’t used to dealing with relationships between games. How to react when former allies were then enemies etc etc, and all that awkwardness.
Gem’s smile dimmed a little at the reminder but she nodded taking another glance at the groups chatting below. Scar had emerged from somewhere and joined Jimmy and Joel, as Lizzie moved across the bridge to join them and the Tuff guys had retreated into their tower. From the other side of the plains, Skizz and Mumbo were running at full pelt, screaming just coming into hearing range.
Grian groaned, “Oh god, what have the idiots gotten themselves into this time?”
Scott and Gem laughed at his misery, “Your idiots,” Gem helpfully pointed out, “You chose them. We both have our own to deal with.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, my team’s very capable.” Scott protested with mock seriousness.
Gem levelled him a deadpan look, “You’re teamed with Impulse and Pearl. They’re smart but they’re also idiots.”
Scott laughed but didn’t disagree, “What about Cleo?”
“They’re just scary.” Grian cut in, already feeling a headache forming as Skizz and Mumbo ran closer, shouting growing louder.
“Welp, we’ll leave you to it!” Gem called, catching Scott by the arm, the pair strolling off the bridge laughing, “Have fun, G!”
Grian had a feeling whatever the two idiots had done now was not going to be fun for him. And they hadn’t even reached super speed yet!
The rest of the week went quickly. And that wasn’t just Martyn making a joke based on the wild card. With them and the whole world speeding up around them, it really felt like time was flying. Which gave him barely anytime to think about their new secret group – he didn’t pity Cleo or Pearl having to keep that secret from their teammate.
Ren hadn’t noticed his disappearance, coming back early in the morning just after Martyn had snuck back into the base, ranting about a plan to kill Grian.
Martyn nodded along, following Ren out into the wilds as the sun rose, listening to him talk about acquiring spider webs and creeper eggs. He didn’t have the heart to tell his teammate about his doubts over the plan, the idea too entertaining.
They ran into BigB, Jimmy and Scar. He shared a quick look with Scar, both looking away before anyone could notice their distraction. Marty nodded his head slightly in Jimmy’s direction, a silent question that Scar responded to with a shake of his head. He hadn’t brought him in to their plan yet.
Talking of plans. Martyn very quickly ruined the Bamboozler boys’ plan by being his nosey self and after being led to BigB’s base in the pale forest, opening a chest. His sense kicked in a second too late, recognising the hint of red of a trapped chest in time to dive back and avoid the trap.
Jimmy and Scar took their leave very quickly after that, giving away the culprits to the little trap and earning BigB’s ire. On the walk home – after they’d been kicked out – Martyn looked up at the sky noting how fast the sun was starting to move.
Time was really starting to kick into action.
He’d like to say the speed was making his giddy and slowing his senses, but he was pretty sure he’d do the same things even without the wild card. Playing chicken with tnt minecarts getting launched from the mountain was maybe not the wisest idea – but he wasn’t known for those in general.
He watched with Gem as they tried to hit Tango’s base, the man himself bemoaning the attempts. Then as the carts launched and the people above noted who was below and the trajectory changed – Martyn had his bright idea.
It was easy to convince Gem to play, and with an ender pearl in hand he launched himself free of the danger zone into a pool of water. Martyn cackled as Gem gasped having gotten a little hurt.
“Those things are fast!” Gem shouted across to him, Martyn watching the sky warily as he darted back to the watching group.
“They do!” Martyn agreed, “It’s faster than I expected.” He was very glad he’d had the ender pearl ready.
They looked up in time to hear Grian’s scream, the death message and quick fleeing betraying the culprit as Scar – the man finally having gotten the kill he’d been going for all week. Mumbo and Skizz as Grian’s teammates chased but honestly, Martyn, wasn’t expecting much. Between the three currently running across the mountain they were more likely to accidently kill themselves than each other.
As demonstrated by Mumbo setting himself on fire and barely putting himself out in time due to the increased fire tick.
The speed became comical at the end of the week, and in the last few hours before the normal grace period, Martyn decided travelling by boat was the best idea. Ren hoping in as they rowed across land all the way to Gem and Joel’s base where the latter had built … a car. Apparently.
And he’d thought the last game had brought out their weird sides.
Martyn watched on the ground beside Grian as Jimmy, Gem, Scar and Scott poked out from the window inside, eyes trailing to Mumbo climbing up behind the thing. With his normal almost sixth sense, Scott made the smart choice to vacate the car just in time.
It was a good plan, Martyn had to admit, watching Mumbo crack open the top of the car with a bucket of lava ready. It just would have been executed better by someone else. The lava was poured but Mumbo was the only one set on fire, the others in the car all escaping at the first hint of heat.
Mumbo wasn’t so lucky, falling from the car and dying before anyone could help – killed by his own lava.
Martyn was busy cackling as Grian hit a hand to his head with a loud groan, “I can’t do this anymore!”
Scott snorted, lazily strolling along the wall round the base, keeping away from the gathering yellows and reds. “You’ve teamed with the worst combo.” Grian only groaned more.
Jimmy laughed loudly, hands pointing at the other avian, “Lizzie always says she’s teamed with a pair of idiots. Buddy, you’ve teamed with a pair of idiots!” He gestured around them in amused disbelief, “What is this!?” His yellow wings tried to flap behind him, but barely moved with the bindings keeping them tight against his back. Martyn still couldn’t beloved he had wings, his eyes always catching the bright yellow limbs whenever he ran into his old friend. Though, oddly, he thought they suited Jimmy well.
“I can’t believe what I just saw!” Grian shrieked, and yep that wasn’t even acting, the man was truly in shock. Martyn only laughed harder as Mumbo came running back, frown tugging at his moustache.
“The car was made of slabs!” Mumbo protested as they all turned laugh and accusations on the poor redstoner. “I placed it and didn’t realise I was stood in it too! I was too busy thinking ‘yeah this is going to get them’!”
“And it didn’t even kill anyone else!” Grian cried, rubbing a hand over his face, “Just yourself, Mumbo!”
What came next had to be the most cartoonish thing he’d ever seen. With the speed really ramped up and the sun practically speeding across the sky above them, a chase started. Ren, Skizz and Mumbo all chasing after Gem, eager for a kill. Martyn couldn’t help singing at the cartoonish chase, none of them getting close to a quickly dodging and laughing Gem.
Martyn shared a grin with Scott who was standing untouched on the wall, equally as green. Scott’s time to be chased would come – it always did. Martyn’s frown dipped, looking away from his friend at a reminder of the big chase from last season – the zombie apocalypse he’d barely been unaware of until too late.
He shook his head, forcing those thoughts away in order to help his failing teammate finally get a kill. Pickaxe and shovel swinging he dug a pit under Gem as she made the mistake of standing still too long. Shouting to his team, Mumbo and Ren fumbled to place lava, finally getting the kill.
Week officially over and another kill under Ren’s belt, the pair wandered home. Martyn sighing, eager for the couple of days of rest and the return to normal speed even as he both feared and anticipated whatever the next week held.
“Well,” He remarked to Ren strolling right next to him, barely any space left between them as they made the journey back to their base. “In the end, absolutely nothing went as you planned. Which is about typical for this server.” Ren just chuckled.
Nothing ever seemed to go as they planned. Martyn could only hope it wasn’t foretelling for their future. That plan they needed to work.