Preds to pair with your Royalty Prey
the stableboy who takes care of their horse (and who the royal spends a suspicious amount of time with)
the trusted advisor looking out for them to make sure they are well rested enough
the knight who swears to protect them in any way they can
the jester doing everything to make them happy (and always down to shenanigans, but why do they say so much food puns when the royal is present I wonder?)
the court wizard showing the royal the newest spell they worked on
the dragon that keeps kidnapping them for the upteenth time, yet the royal shows no sign of any harm when they miraculously return
All of the above, just not at the same time. None of them are aware that they aren't the only ones who had the royal in their belly at one point
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is this entertaining?
<Join Game?>
The text on his communicator is odd–Mumbo can’t remember the last time he had been asked to join a server, not since Xisuma had sent him the invitation to Hermitcraft. Ever since, season hops had been done differently, with Xisuma sending the server address privately so that Mumbo could join on his own time. Nothing else about the day seemed off–the sun shone brightly overhead, with the ancient monument casting shadows over half his shulker boxes. The vines growing over it seemed to have gotten twice as long overnight, which Mumbo personally felt added to the atmosphere of his base.
Then again, that didn’t really matter now, did it? Season seven was coming to a close, and most hermits had already headed offworld to visit private servers, other friends, or just explore. The ones left were simply wrapping up, preparing for the move to season eight. Grian hadn’t left yet–Mumbo was sure he’d stop by later to check in first.
Except–
<Grian left the game>
Mumbo frowns, his eyebrows creasing. Surely Grian hadn’t just left?
<GoodtimewithScar left the game>
<Etho left the game>
<Bdoubleo100 left the game>
That…that was odd. For a fraction of a second, Mumbo glances down at the glowing purple text still taunting him on his communicator and wonders.
And then he tucks it away with a shrug. Whatever the invite, he had no idea what it was, so maybe he’d ask X about it later. Or something.
The others would be back soon anyway.
They would.
--------------------------------------
<Join Game?>
Oh, hell. Mumbo stares down at the purple text, not nearly as confused as he had been last time.
Season eight was underway, with the Boatem crew growing closer and closer. Mumbo had found out fairly quickly what the glowing text meant when Impulse, Grian, and Scar had seemed distant, only for Grian to come flying into his bedroom late one night in tears.
“A game…” Grian had whispered, face tucked away into Mumbo’s chest. In the moment, Mumbo’s face was a mixture of bafflement and concern for his friend, but as Grian had whispered out his actions, whispered out the alliances and deaths and kills, he’d started to understand.
Now, Mumbo stands, gazing down at it. Easy decision. Not pressing that join button. And he was quite sure nobody else would press it either, not following the aftermath of the first game.
But then again, Mumbo should have known Grian couldn’t ever turn down a chance to press a button.
He should have known that to some it was only ever a game to some, should have known that it had never been a game to others, should have known there was unfinished business drawn in the sands of a desert he’d never been to.
<Etho left the game>
<Bdoubleo100 left the game>
<ImpulseSV left the game>
<Grian left the game>
<GoodtimewithScar left the game>
<PearlescentMoon left the game>
<Renthedog left the game>
<Tango left the game>
<ZombieCleo left the game>
“Seriously?” Mumbo feels lightheaded, watching the chat fill almost instantly. “Whatever for?”
The other hermits are talking, wondering and worried. Mumbo should join them, chime in with what he knows.
Instead he does what might quite possibly be just his dumbest decision he’s ever made, and that’s saying a lot.
<MumboJumbo joined the game>
--------------------------------------
<Join Game?>
“We can still be friends, Mumbo!” Grian’s crazed smile doesn’t slip from his face as he stalks forward, pickaxe clutched in his hand so tightly Mumbo can see it shaking. “There’s a way we can still be together!”
That text shouldn’t be there. He’d disabled any and all chat messages from his comm the moment he’d arrived on the singleplayer world he’d found.
He’s alone, he’s on a world right at the edge of the universe, somewhere caught between the past worlds and ones not yet created. There’s experimental elements, plants Mumbo is sure shouldn’t exist in the overworld or any realm, combined with elements that he’s also sure disappeared many, many servers ago. The world itself is unstable, and it’s perfect. Nobody would think to look for him here, and in this way, Mumbo can have his much needed solitude.
He’d reassured Grian it had nothing to do with Last Life.
It didn’t. That was months ago, after all! Months! And they’d been on season nine for weeks! Moon crash and all that aside, he was quite alright, he just needed a break.
And it had absolutely nothing to do with Last Life.
Definitely.
So when he takes his communicator and tucks it into a shulker with shaking hands, before deciding to explore the opposite side of the world instead of even thinking about clicking that damned Join Game? button…it’s only because of his interest in the experimental elements.
He wonders how many of them went back this time.
--------------------------------------
<Join Game?>
“No thanks, I’m good mate!” Mumbo shakes his head, already turning back to the flooring of his definitely full vault.
(Although…)
“No, no,” Mumbo keeps his hands away from his communicator. He knows at this point nearly everyone will go back, having heard about it from Grian and the others when he’d come back from his break. Honestly, he still doesn’t get it. Out of everything they could be doing, between base work and pranks, he can’t imagine why everyone consistently chooses to go back. It doesn’t make sense.
Maybe he ought to ask someone other than Grian, since his friend seemed to enjoy them in some sort of sick, twisted way–almost as if the red life in him had never fully left after enough times.
But not this time.
--------------------------------------
<Join Game?>
One more time. He just wants to understand.
And maybe…maybe he missed using those end crystals more than he’d like to admit.
<MumboJumbo joined the game>
W̵̱̻̭͇͎͚͚͕͇̣̲͚̤͇͔͑͆̋̑e̵͔̞̮̹͓͗̍̐̿̊̓̀̔̉ͅl��̢̡̲̯͚̭̺̝̞̘̇̐͗̐c̴͔̯̟̭͔̠̝̦̻̮̜̟͕̪̠͋̉̾̑͂͐̾͑ơ̵͎̭̟̹̪̦̳̻̮̩̥͉͖̹̑̊͋̈́̔̍̃̄̈̕̚m̶̨̛͖͕͇͕̬̟͍̪̾͋̊͆́̃̓̀̽͝e̵̬͎͌̆́̊̆̎͐̿̂̕͠ͅ ̴̧̡̡̛̘̥̮̗͓̞͕͇͈̺̫͊͛͑̉͑̾̂̍͂̎̓̚͝͝b̷̨͍̲͓̖͎̣̉́́̾͋͑͊̄͋̏̈́͂̃̕ḁ̸̡͙͚̬̜̫̔̑̏̓̀̇́̅̈́͋͒̈̒̚͠c̵͓̰͈̙̼̝̺̪̱̍̍̋́͊̏͊̕ͅk̶̬̘̦̟̙͖̩̭͇̻͇͚̥͊̒͐͑͐̕͝!
this is an addition to this fic!
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