curtain call
The Mechanisms are uncharacteristically quiet as they walk off the stage. Even Jonny doesn’t know what to say as the remaining eight space pirates file into the dressing room of the venue they booked for their last ever show on Earth.
The first one to break the silence is the Toy Soldier who sniffles, gasps tremulously, and then wails, “Is all that really going to happen? With the—the black holes and the bar fights and the octokittens and everything?”
Jonny stifles a groan. This is exactly why he’d locked it out in the first place. What’s going to happen is what’s going to happen, and they all might as well accept it.
To make matters worse, the Toy Soldier’s sniffling has set off some of the more sensitive Mechanisms. Ivy pats it on the shoulder with a forlorn look, eyes glassy with unshed tears, and Marius’ fragile expression suggests that if Ivy starts crying, he’ll follow suit.
Tim has his arm around Ashes’ waist, as if worried they might disappear, and though his metal eyes betray no sadness, the firm set of his mouth worries Jonny more than anything else.
“The odds of us changing the future now that it’s been written are over three hundred million to one,” Ivy says sadly. “It’s statistically impossible that we will live forever.”
“B-b-but we have so many more songs left to sing!” the Toy Soldier weeps. “Tales to tell! Wars to wage!”
“And we will,” Jonny says shortly. “None of us are instantly about to keel over, are we?”
“N-no?” the Toy Soldier says.
“Everyone seems in decent health to me,” Marius says quietly. He holds Ivy’s hand in both of his.
“So don’t worry about it,” Jonny says.
“That’s easy for you to say,” Marius says. “You’re not dying for another millennia. I could get eaten by octokittens tomorrow.”
Jonny’s stomach twists, and he wrenches his mouth open to retort, but someone interrupts him.
“No,” Raphaella says sharply. “You will not. We know for a fact that we each die alone. I’m not letting you out of my sight, and you’re certainly not going to check on the octokittens any time soon. I’m planning to have Ivy feed them when we arrive back at the ship.”
“It’s not the same now that I know they eat Marius,” Ivy sniffles.
Marius’s expression shatters. “Don’t hold it against them, Ivy! They’re just hungry! They can’t help it! Don’t be sad!” he pleads.
Jonny feels sick as Ivy starts to cry harder, expounding on the hunting habits of felines, which only makes Marius more upset. He throws himself into a chair and starts taking his makeup off with a wet wipe, trying and failing to ignore them as Raphaella attempts to comfort them both.
“You’re being awfully callous about all this,” Tim says, still with one arm around a stony-faced Ashes. Brian and the Toy Soldier have joined the fray, and Brian’s platitudes about everything coming to an end in time are almost as unhelpful as the Toy Soldier’s weeping and wailing.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jonny snaps.
“Well, you could at least pretend to be sad like the rest of us,” Tim says. “I know you’re all excited to die, but that doesn’t mean the rest of us are.”
“God damn it, Tim,” Jonny snaps, throwing the wet wipe on the floor. “You think I’m not sad?”
“You’re not acting like it,” Tim replies. “Marius had a point. You’ve got a run-up and a death you’re looking forward to. Ashes here could go at any time.”
“Hey, babe, don’t bring me into this,” Ashes mumbles.
“Am I wrong?” Tim says.
“Yeah, you fucking are wrong!” Jonny shouts. “You think I want to die alone in some backwater asteroid bar centuries after the rest of you are gone? Yeah, I’m excited to die, but that doesn’t mean I want to watch the rest of you disappear first!”
The rest of the dressing room falls quiet, and Jonny realizes belatedly that he was shouting. Worse, he feels tears in his eyes, and he scrubs at them angrily, smearing the remains of his face paint.
“Oh,” Gunpowder Tim says. “I guess I didn’t think about that.”
“You choose how you go out,” Jonny says. “I have to wait until it finally decides to fucking stick. You know how many times I’ve been stabbed in the heart? I could go start a barfight on an asteroid tomorrow, but I guarantee it won’t stick.”
“All the same,” Tim says quietly. “I’d prefer you didn’t risk it.”
“And I’d prefer you wore your fucking seatbelt, but we don’t get to choose, now do we?” Jonny says.
Tim flinches, and Ashes frowns at Jonny who takes a deep, shuddering breath.
“I—I mean. I don’t want you to die either,” he says. “But we have to die s-sooner or later. And I don’t want to waste whatever time we have left crying about it.”
Despite this, tears are dripping from his eyes as he speaks, flowing faster than he can scrub them away. No one says another for a long moment, but he feels the eyes of several of his crewmates on him.
“C’mere, you mean ol’ bastard,” Ashes says. They spread the arm not curled around Tim’s waist and gesture for him to approach.
“What?” Jonny says, standing up and shuffling closer.
Ashes crushes him to their chest in a one-armed hug, and Jonny breaks and grabs both Ashes and Tim as best he can. Before he can recover, he feels someone else wrap their arms around him from behind, and before he can protest, he’s at the center of a tangled mass of weeping space pirates—colloquially known as a group hug.
It’s awkward with so much metal and wood and weapons, but Jonny can’t even pretend to be annoyed by it. He’s too focused on not breaking down into sobs. He’ll be damned if he lets his crew see him cry anymore than they already have.
“I love you all very much,” the Toy Soldier says happily. “Best space pirate crew ever.”
Jonny rolls his eyes and sobs silently. Hopefully, buried as he is in a mass of bodies, no one will notice.
“Well, now that that’s been dealt with,” DrumBot Brian says, “I would like to return to the Aurora. I am concerned our parking pass has expired.”
Jonny sighs. “Fine, but you stay away from the damn airlock.”
“Your concern is touching and noted,” says the DrumBot.
The Mechanisms disperse and hurriedly gather up their things. Jonny lovingly coils up his microphone and tucks it safely away, and the band of space pirates begin to make their way back to the Aurora and off to destinations unknown.
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Why do I feel like Etho and Patho would actually really get along well. Like there'd be a minute of "oh shit" then they'd be making some weird machine together.
Also any chance you would be willing to share the story about Patho's clock and maybe info on Hels Bdubs?
(honestly? true. patho isn’t bothered enough w the concept of being a doppelgänger so he’d be chill w etho if etho was chill with him. and etho’s like. always chill. anyway idk if this’ll answer ur questions but here’s uhhhh something)
~*~
patho pauses at the top of the netherrack hill, boots hissing briefly as he shifts off a magma block.
xyz: -12,485.167 / 67.09835 / 253,295.942
the coordinates ever-present within his field of view tell him he should be another hundred or so blocks away in the z axis, but he can already see the jungle’s grown since his last visit. it’s been slowly overtaking the neighboring nether waste biome for a couple decades, now. rate of growth has held constant, unchanging. that's something, at least.
patho slowly scans the horizon. words and numbers flash across the left half of his vision as his cybernetic eye rapidly processes new information based on visual input: netherrack, netherrack, crimson nylium, grass, jungle wood, jungle wood, jungle leaves, weeping vine. light level 3, 3, 3, 2, 1, 2, 3, 4. there's a lava pool eleven blocks over in the x axis; light level 15.
he starts walking again.
153 fps t: inf fancy-clouds b: 15x15 3 tx 3 rx c: 695/41672 (s) d: 16, pc: 000, pu: 00, ab: 42 e: 23/109, b: 0, sd: 9 p: 18 t: 109 error fc:0 xyz: -12,487.331 / 65.21091 / 253,375.987 block: -12,487 65 253,375 chunk: -780 15 7,835 facing: south (towards positive z)(1.5/5) client light: 5 (0 sky, 5 block) biome: error:nether waste local difficulty: 6.75//0.00 (day error404 not found) sounds: 5/247 + 0/8
the data shifts with every step. he's learned to tune most of it out by now, only paying attention to the biome indicator as he crosses the chunk threshold.
biome: error:crimson jungle
particles and sounds immediately jump up a couple degrees. glowing red specks dance slowly in the air, mingling with the ambient noises; hoglins rooting around in the brush, parrots calling unseen from the canopy above, lava bubbling in a pool nearby.
p: 35 sounds: 23/247
the temperature is warmer here. patho shrugs off his jacket, letting it hang at his elbows as he picks his way through the jungle. he doesn't even need to think about where he's going, coordinates left ignored at the edge of his vision. he's taken this path many times before, and he never has to wander very long.
his boots crunch softly on the nylium and grass terrain. jungle leaves and crimson fungus alike brush at his shoulders as he ducks underneath branches, taking care not to get tangled in weeping vines.
this is his favorite jungle. it's not the only crimson jungle he's ever come across- not to mention the warped jungles- but out of all the biomes he's seen, it's the one with the greenest leaves. something about this jungle sustains the normal trees just as well as it does the fungi, allowing the grass and leaves to stay bright and full instead growing in wilted and brown. it makes a lovely contrast with the blood red fungi.
not for the first time, he's thankful that the jungle is far enough away from spawn to be left alone. if other players knew about this place, with its well-sustained passive mob spawning and greenery, they'd destroy it for resources for sure. but he never worries too much about that possibility, because no mob or player sets foot in this jungle without permission from-
a weeping vine suddenly sprouts from the ground and lashes around patho's leg.
it's quickly joined by several more, snaking out from the undergrowth to wrap around his other limbs. before he can blink, he's lifted off the ground and pulled up into the trees. he doesn't struggle, doesn't panic- this is nothing new to him. the vines string him up among the highest branches, where a familiar figure is crouched in front of him, nothing but a pair of glowing red eyes beneath a heap of moss.
<player>dat -7063fdce-39ac-4a12-d836-a990c45b2bb0
"hey, dbubs," patho says casually.
the figure straightens up, hood falling back to reveal his face. his huge red eyes are sparkling with excitement, despite the dark circles lining them, and his mouth falls open in a wide, sharp-toothed grin. vines of varying shapes and sizes curl lazily around his body, small tendrils sprouting from the mossy cloak he wears. a couple veins of red discolor his skin, crawling up his neck and across his face. his messy hair is a bit whiter than the last time patho saw him, tinged red at the roots. a clock hangs around his neck, to match the one hanging from patho's hip.
"patho!" dbubs practically shouts, throwing his arms out.
sounds: 24/247
before dbubs can say anything else, patho asks his usual question. “what’s your name?”
“what’s my-” dbubs blinks, works his jaw for a second. “GODSLAYER666,” he proclaims loudly, puffing his chest out. then he pauses, frowns. “wait, no, i- i don’t know why i just said that. uh…”
it’s somewhere in the middle, then. not as bad as his worst days- at least he’s aware he’s lying, even if he has no control over it. and patho has to admit, that's one of the most entertaining responses dbubs has ever given to his little test.
"uh huh." patho shifts in the web of vines. they're holding a bit tighter than normal. of course, he could still easily break out of them. if he wanted to. "did you miss me, dbubs?" he asks instead, his voice teasing.
dbubs throws his head back to let out a sharp laugh, sending a shower of red particles fluttering through the air. "what?" he demands incredulously, his eyes blown wide. "miss you? i d- eugh, n'you stupid- i- i didn't even notice you were gone!"
patho hums with amusement. "then you don't wanna, like, kiss me or anything?"
"no," dbubs insists stubbornly, even as he comes closer. he steps boldly into patho's space, hands coming up to grab his face. "no, no of course not, i don't..." his long eyelashes flutter as he looks patho up and down. he smells like moss; like old vegetation and decay. there's soil and dried blood caked under his fingernails. "why would i- you ha- you have a lotta nerve..." dbubs tugs at the left strap of patho's mask, tilting his head. "do i- uh, do i get to see ya?" he asks, expression suddenly eager.
"yeah," patho chuckles.
dbubs grins widely, pulling patho's mask down. for a moment, he just looks at him. his calloused hand scuffs along the metal parts of patho's face- the entire ramus of his left mandible and most of his cheekbone, lost in the explosion that took his eye. the remaining skin is rough with scar tissue. dbubs strokes his thumb along that, too.
"i lo- um, i- i hate your stupid face," dbubs mumbles before he finally kisses patho. he seems to process his words a second later, breaking away with a small gasp of "oh! i d-", but patho simply leans in again, reclaiming his lips.
he knows what dbubs meant.
~*~
dbubs spares patho the trouble of walking, simply having the vines carry him to the hideaway. it's a difficult base to categorize: part tree house, part nest, part garden. in some places the floor is made of wood- in others, just a thick layer of leaves. there are potted plants and hanging vines everywhere, interspersed among stacks of barrels and moldy bookcases. little red mushrooms sprout from walls made of thatch and tree trunks. a couple of shroomlights provide gentle lighting as glittery particles drift through the open air; red, from the biome itself, and green from the spore blossom that patho brought him last year.
the vines unceremoniously drop patho onto the makeshift bed- a mat of moss and old, shredded banners. he's barely gotten settled, pulling his mask up and pulling his jacket off, before dbubs flops onto him with a heavy wuff.
"so!" dbubs starts loudly, propping his elbows up on patho's stomach. "what brings ya to see ol' dbubs today, huh?"
patho huffs a laugh. "what, i can't just stop by to say hi?"
"oh sure, okay." dbubs rolls his eyes, one of his vines flicking through the air dismissively. "you j- yeah, okay, be all secretive, then! see if i care." his haughty demeanor doesn't last long, though, as he shimmies up a little further, arms folded on patho's chest. "d'you- uh, do you wanna hear what i've been doin'?"
patho sighs good-naturedly, shifting so he can tuck his arms behind his head and lean back against the wall. "alright, go ahead."
dbubs beams at him and immediately starts telling lies. he tells patho about all the amazing things he's built (the jungle looks the same), all the incredible battles he's fought (no one's entered the jungle in years), all the wonderful places he's gone (he can't leave the jungle).
but patho doesn't mind that it's all lies. he's content to listen anyways.
they carry on like this until dbubs suddenly pauses, scrambling for his clock. "uh oh! gotta schreep."
patho glances at his own clock; dbubs is right on time, as always. that's one thing he never lies about. "okay, okay," he says, pushing dbubs off- he hits the moss with a soft thump. "lemme get my anchor."
"well, hurry up already!" dbubs shouts impatiently, vines swatting at patho's arm as he pops down his ender chest.
after placing the anchor and setting his spawn, patho reaches up and presses his finger directly into the center of his left eye, shutting it off.
he doesn’t regret putting a data processor into his cybernetic eye; the information it’s given him is invaluable. but every now and then, he needs a break from it. even when his eyes are closed, the display is still active, showing blank values on the back of his eyelid. turning the eye off is the only way to make it go away- of course, at the price of half his vision. so he only does it if he’s sleeping somewhere fully secure, and if he’s alone.
the jungle is an exception. dbubs has full domain out here- no mob or player can come close to his home without him allowing it.
"finally," dbubs huffs as patho settles back down. he's quick to cling with both his arms and assorted vines.
patho can't help but chuckle. "what's that you said about not missing me?"
"oh, shut up!"
~*~
patho abruptly reenters consciousness, emerging from a deep, dreamless sleep. with a soft groan, he fumbles to turn on his cybernetic eye, wincing at the sudden influx of data.
149 fps t: inf fancy-clouds b: 15x15 3 tx 3 rx c: 695/41672 (s) d: 16, pc: 000, pu: 00, ab: 42 e: 1/109, b: 0, sd: 9 p: 52 t: 109 error fc:0 xyz: -12,587.412 / 96.77253 / 253,401.623 block: -12,587 96 253,401 chunk: -783 15 7,845 facing: north (towards negative z)(1.5/5) client light: 7 (0 sky, 7 block) biome: error:crimson jungle local difficulty: 6.75//0.00 (day error404 not found) sounds: 27/247 + 0/8
"goooood morning!" dbubs calls, over on the other side of the little nook. he's busy rummaging through barrels, perhaps trying to find some breakfast. it’s unlikely he has any food stored; when he’s hungry, he hunts, and the jungle always provides.
"mornin'," patho says, rubbing his face. he sits up- and then pauses. there are weeping vines wrapped tightly around his legs. he sighs. “dbubs, you’re doing it again.”
“what?" dbubs manages to sound surprised. "no! no, i’m not, i’m- i’m just over here, minding my own business, crafting a loom.”
“a loom,” patho repeats flatly.
“yes! for um, for banners.”
“do you even have any wool?”
“do i ha- uh, of course! yes, of course i do.”
“can i see it?”
“no. no, i- i just ate it, actually. um-”
“you ate it?”
“yeah. sorry.”
patho sighs again. he kicks the weeping vines away. "i uh, i didn't mean to be gone for so long," he says, rising to his feet. "but, you know, i- i got held up with a job."
"a job?" dbubs glances over his shoulder at patho, squinting. "what kinda job?"
patho stretches his arms above his head, hearing both his natural and mechanical shoulder joints pop. "some guys out west are tryin' to make a portal out of hels."
"a portal?" dbubs's mouth falls open. "oh, for goodness sakes- and you call me a liar!"
patho knows better than to take offense. "it's true. they've got a player who came here from another world."
"uh huh." dbubs scoffs, but he can't quite hide the anxious shimmer in his eyes. "yeah, yeah, sure... so- i mean, did you do it, then? make them a portal?"
"basically." patho shrugs. "i uh, i told them everything they needed to know, to make one."
"right. you told th- okay." dbubs nods, bites his lip. "um- you didn't stay? to see the portal? or, uh…”
patho chuckles, crossing the distance to put his arms around dbubs's waist. "nah. i mean, come on, you know me, dbubs. i'm a- i'm a hels player, through and through. what's the rest of the universe got that's better than this place, right?"
dbubs grins at that, slotting his arms through patho's. "oh, you- you're such an idiot! y'know, i uh, i've been outside'a hels before and i- um, let me tell ya, you're missing out!"
"mhmm." patho smiles even though his mask is on. he knows dbubs can tell.
"yeah! "dbubs nods vigorously. "and, uh, there's- i got a whole world that's just mine!"
"is that right?" patho rests his chin on the top of dbubs's head. "tell me about it."
"it's a beautiful world, of course. my perfect builds, i ha-"
"of course."
"- uh, hey! quit interruptin'!"
"sorry, sorry."
"i di- thank you. so i um, i built a big ol' crastle, with a- hyeugh, a sorta um, horse course... y'know, with th- with the fastest horses anyone ever saw, one-stick horses, and- and uh, everyone was really impressed…”
this won’t last forever. it’ll only be a matter of weeks, months if they’re lucky, before patho won’t be able to ignore the itch to wander again. before the comfort and familiarity of the jungle becomes unbearable. before dbubs grows so used to his presence that the jungle itself tries to overtake him, the way it has dbubs- vines and veins of red.
he’ll leave without warning in the middle of the night, while dbubs is sleeping, because trying to leave while dbubs is awake never ends well. he’ll leave without a word and try not to think about the frantic whispers he knows dbubs sends him on lonely nights, despite knowing patho will never receive them (it’s the only time he regrets fusing his communicator with his arm- but how was he supposed to know he’d hear it in his mind? how was he supposed to know that disabling the chat was the only way not to lose himself completely to the endless flood of data?)
he’ll stay away long enough for dbubs to shatter apart, losing himself to the wildness of the jungle, and come back together. he’ll wait until dbubs has recovered from his grief, so that the next time dbubs sees him there will only be joy. because no matter how many times patho hurts him, dbubs always forgets it eventually.
“… so, you see, ol’ dbubs been workin' on a new technique, using the uh. grade- uh, gradient? block palettes... to create depth. ah hah! so- so listen, now, to teacher! it all starts with the color scheme..."
this won’t last forever. so for now, patho closes his eyes and listens.
error fps t: b: tx rx c: (s) d: , pc: , pu: , ab: e: , b: , sd: p: t: error fc: xyz: / / block: chunk: facing: ( )( / ) client light: ( sky, block) biome: error: local difficulty: // (day error404 not found) sounds: 1/247 + 0/8
~*~
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