#skizzleman is standing there like What........

[rosenbergamot]

The Sand Permits; or, conversely, Scar and Grian are unable to communicate like normal people

“I don’t like my permits,” Scar says, something unreadable on his face. Grian adjusts his tie, then the papers on his desk., and prepares for another long Scar rant. Whatever it is he’s ranting about this time, Grian’s not sure he can tell, but based on his tone it has to be something difficult for him. “It’s annoying-- it gets in everything! Gets everywhere! I need something else.” 

There’s a loaded quality to that sentence. Grian raises his eyebrow, his hand coming to clutch his pencil as if it can help him through this moment. “What permit do you even have, Scar?”

The answer is something he should have expected from the way Scar is looking at him. The hurt in his eyes. He remembers-- and Grian knows that he remembers, and Scar knows that he knows that he remembers-- but it’s never been brought up before, never been shoved too explicitly in his face. Scar keeps it retained to small comments followed by awkward crooked grins that say nothing. 

“Oh, you know… just sand.” 

Their eyes meet. Scar holds the gaze, as if daring him to say something to him finally-- to acknowledge everything they’ve been through together that he’s only just now remembered. If only Pearl had killed him in Secret Life. Maybe then Grian could have put this off. Oh. Whatever. He’s still going to put it off. Skizz is right there after all.

He studies his nails. “Sand is a pretty good seller, y’know? You’ll have a whole monopoly on it and everything, so I can’t see why you don’t want to go through with it. I thought you liked sand.”

“Sand is useful!” Skizz chirps. 

Neither of them say anything for a second, still staring at one another. Skizz scratches at his head.

“Sand is useful,” Scar agrees easily, his voice strangely flat. “I did like sand. I do like sand. But sand hasn’t been the same ever since it came out of the desert.”

His wings puff up but he keeps his voice level. “Of course sand hasn’t been the same since it left the desert, do you even know what the sand went through in that place?”

“How could I not? I was there! I harvested the sand! I built a home with the sand!” 

The way Scar’s face wrinkles is very reminiscent of Double Life. Grian wants nothing more than to erase that face out of his mind. 

“Maybe the sand didn’t want you to harvest it.” The words are spoken from behind his teeth. His heart is picking up its pace. 

And that gets emotion out of Scar. It’s the same as it was back on Monopoly Mountain, when his eyes were red instead of green, his hands shaking with barely concealed bloodlust. “Maybe the sand shouldn’t have killed me, then!” 

“Maybe the sand shouldn’t have!” He agrees, throwing his hands into the air. Hurt flashes in Scar’s eyes-- as if Grian didn’t just agree with him and his stupid metaphor! He wraps his arm around himself. His voice gets quieter. “Maybe the sand regrets it. Maybe the sand wanted things to be different, wanted to be with you but just didn’t know how. Maybe… maybe the sand just wants things to go back to being normal again.” 

His voice betrays no emotion. He smiles at Grian. “Maybe the sand shouldn’t have broken my heart. Maybe things could be normal then.” 

The pencil in his hand snaps. 

“Scar, you…” His hand is full of snapped graphite. He drops the pencil onto his desk. Being at a loss for words is a feeling that’s foreign to him. It’s rather uncomfortable right now. 

Scar keeps his eyes on him as he tries to formulate a sentence. He gives him longer than he deserves, watching carefully, until finally his smile softens. It makes his stomach drop despite how gentle it is. 

“I’ll see you around, Grian.” He turns, cane in hand, and walks out of his makeshift door. As he leaves, he calls back, “and forget about the permit thing! I’ll figure it out myself.” 

Then he’s gone. And Grian is left to stare at where he just was and wonder what the hell went so wrong. The permit office is silent, still, the only sound and movement coming from himself-- from his shoulders as they heave with his breaths, with his attempts to hold in the tears that suddenly want to fall from his eyes. He can’t cry, though. There’s work to do.

“Um?” Oh. There’s also Skizzleman. He awkwardly shuffles his feet, still holding a file of forms that Scar hadn’t taken with him. “Was that like… was that a thing? Should I have not witnessed that? I don’t think that was about sand.” 

He laughs. It’s hollow. “No, Skizz, I don’t think it was about sand either.” 

read it on ao3 here!!

#hermitcraft #hc10 #hermitcraft 10 #desert duo #scarian #they are so dysfunctional to me #hermitfic #idk if thats a tag i just like how it looks #in which scar and grian CANNOT communicate #fanfic #rosie writing #skizzleman is standing there like What........ #he WILL be commencing therapy talk after this

[dmwrites]

“Pearllllll, I’m bored.”

Gem all but draped herself over a nearby chair in Pearl’s living room, dislodging Olive the cat as she did so.

Pearl looked up at her from her notebook. “So I see. Tragic.” She looked back down at the pahe in front of her, underlined something.

“Pearrrrllll! I’m so bored!”

“You could go play a few rounds of decked out.” Pearl suggested, flipping a page.

“I already used all my shards for the week. And two of yours.” Gem complained, face-down in the seat, legs flailing out over the arm of the chair.

“You what?” Pearl looked up at her friend again, eyes wide.

“Nothing!” Gem coughed. “I just wanna annoy someone, cause some havoc.”

“Well you’re already succeeding at that.” Pearl muttered, putting her notebook to the side and looking at the mess of limbs that was Gem.

“Ugh. Impulse isn’t even around for me to bother, he’s too busy ‘hunting ghosts’ with Skizz and Scar and Grian. Why didn’t they invite me? I wish I could, like, haunt them or something. Possess one of their bodies and scare them.”

“Possession is easy.” Pearl said offhandedly.

“What?”

“What?”

“Pearlescentmoon! Do you know how to possess people?” Gem gasped, scrambling to a normal sitting position.

“Maybe…” Pearl giggled. “Who do you wanna possess?”

“Oh my god, Scar would be so funny to possess!” Gem said.

“I think we could manage that…” Pearl grinned, holding up a vial with a few bits of dark brown hair inside.

“How did you- actually, I don’t wanna know, I don’t want to have to go to court as a witness one day.” Gem said. “So, okay, how do we do this, then?”

Pearl pulled out a small, stained book from her bookshelf. “Leave it to me. Come back tonight.”

——

Gem and Pearl were sitting on Pearl’s floor in the dark, surrounded by candles. Gem was spooked already.

Pearl checked the time. “Alright, they should be there by now. You ready, Gem?”

“You still haven’t told me what we’re gonna do to put me inside of Scar.” Gem said.

“Simple. Drink this.” Pearl held out a bottle with a dull-looking potion sloshing around inside.

“What is this?” Gem took it and swirled it, frowning.

“Well, if you asked Scar when he downed the bottle I gave him earlier, it’s an energy drink. But it’s actually an awkward potion with a lock of your hair in it.”

“What? Ew!” Gem exclaimed.

“And you have the other, the one with Scar’s hair in it. If you want to possess Scar, that’s how you do it.” Pearl pointed at the bottle. “I’ll guard your body, as I’m sure Scar will be quite frightened to be so short.”

“Wait, he’s taking over my body? I don’t want him in me!”

Pearl snorted. “Ignoring that, what do you think happens to the other soul? It just hangs out? No, silly, it’s got to have a place to go. Scar’ll be fine, trust me. So, are we doing this or not?”

Gem took a deep breath. “This is insane. I should have just gone and killed Etho again. Whatever. Cheers, you weirdo.” She raised the bottle towards Pearl, and drank the entire potion down. For a moment, she and Pearl stared at each other. Then, darkness.

——

“Scar? You okay buddy?” Gem felt a cool hand on her face, gently slapping her awake.

Gem opened her eyes to find a dark haired man standing entirely too close to her face. His own face split into a grin.

“Scar’s alive, guys!”

“I knew he’d faint out of fear.” Grian’s voice came from a corner, not entirely hiding mild distain.

“Come on, man, let’s get you up.” Another voice, Impulse’s voice, came warmly from her other side, and Gem felt herself being picked up. She was set into a chair, and looked up at Impulse, Grian, and Skizzleman.

“Hi guys!” Gem said in her cheeriest voice.

Skizz screamed. Grian screamed louder and higher, clutching to Impulse’s arm. Impulse jumped backwards, falling on Grian, and they both hit the floor. Gem found the wheels of her chair and began moving around.

“Gem?” Impulse finally managed to stutter out, with Skizz and Grian hiding behind him. “Where’s Scar? And how are you… him?”

“Scar’s safe, don’t worry. Let’s go hunt some ghosts, boys!” Gem chirped, leading the way into the haunted house.

——

��Wha- Grian? Impulse? Rizzleman? Did I die? Hello?” Scar sat up, looking around the candle-strewn room in confusion. There was a movement in front of him, and a shadowy figure moved into the candlelight.

“Hello Scar. This is your own personal hell, where you have to pay for the sins of your shulker monsters.” Pearl said in a creepy voice.

“Nooooo!” Scar screamed. “I always knew it would end like this!”

#team gigs #geminitay #pearlescentmoon #long post #based on the sillies of today kinda not really

[fountainpenguin]

Tango POV Session 3 highlights (My first POV this session, jumping in with no spoilers)-

Skizz: "I want a giant blinking heart in the sky" Tango: "Cool idea :) You're doing the redstone, right?" Skizz: ... Tango: "YOU'RE doing the redstone for that, right?"

Skizz: "While editing I was like... 'Am I a loser?' Tango: "No, no, no! It was well before editing that I realized that."

I do love the server dynamics that give us gems like Mumbo sprinting across the ground yelling about how he has a quick, urgent thing he needs to do... Just an average day in the death game.

slkdjf Tango and Skizz finally found someone just as desperate and needy as them... Enter the man who has been shunned for 3 seasons because of his boogeyman kill. We love a BigB!!

BigB: "Skizz, this might be time to point out my weak building skills-" Skizzleman: "Oh no, don't worry. That's why we've got ourselves a Tango!" Tango: /incoherent shrieking and denials

Tango assigned homemaker by the narrative.

So just to be clear, we've got Tango "I will teach you redstone and cheer you on" (Mansplain), we've got BigB "There is no hole in the mesa" (Manipulate), and Skizz "I built the base" (Malewife). Good for them.

Skizz: "At my IRL job when I had to create blinking lights, I literally had someone go back to the breaker and flip it."

Tango, to Cleo: "That's all we are! Cringe 'R' Us!"

sdlkfj Tango hugging and comforting Torchy over how scary Etho's water bucket attack was. "If he comes back, I will take care of this."

BigB: "I have an anvil." Tango and Skizz losing their minds: "BEST TEAMMATE EVER!"

Heart Foundation: "We will join forces and gift our hearts to a randomly selected person. Everyone will like and protect us; we are creating our own plot armor." Etho, immediately after receiving his hearts: "I am a huge fan. Sign me up. Whatever I need to do to stay on. I will let you use the enchanting table. I would be dead if it were not for the Heart Foundation."

Gem and Scott riding up on their zombie and skeleton horses would be SO terrifying. Can't wait to see the fanart of that sdfklj

Tango killed it this session, he did not cut corners in babbling to Torchy.

Gem: "I think your task is to remove light sources from the server." Tango: "That would be very incorrect." Tango as he sprints away, muttering to Torchy: "I know?? They were standing right by us and they didn't even notice??"

Torchy has such boogeyman tendencies, geez. Is this Leven Thumps; did we confine the spirit of the boogeyman to a piece of wood??

Tango, raiding someone's base: "You want to? We could."

I enjoy the new rule about Yellows having one chance to call people out on their task. I think this is a good move to up the tension and also encourage people to do it because you only get one shot per episode. Don't wanna waste it!

slkdjf @ Tango chatting with Etho, Etho susses out his task, so Tango immediately runs to Grian to confirm the rules. Grian tells him no problem, Etho's green so he's in the clear. Tango runs off crowing in laughter.

Lizzie: "I've heard some weird things about you." Tango: "We are excellent today." Lizzie: "That's the weird stuff I've been hearing."

?? Is Tango's official canon that redstone exposure turned his eyes red? Neat.

lksdjf Skizz seething about Impulse.

Tango: "What did he do?" Skizz: "His task was to find somebody who's got greater than 25 hearts and find a way to - air quotes - "accidentally" get them to lose 5 hearts. So he made sure I lost 20."

Yeah, that tracks.

Freaking goodness, Tango put his entire heart and soul into this invisible friend task.

Bdubs' globe is looking amazing <3

?? Etho running up to Joel and saying "I love you?" What is the context; looking forward to figuring that out.

Etho: "I love you." Joel: "Okay, I know you're obsessed with me, I saw you made me your thumbnail of your first episode, but come on..."

Called out at the end!!! Devastating!!!

That is the end, but what a great session. So much death...

#trafficblr #TangoTek #Skizzleman #Secret Life #Heart Foundation #mcyt #Secret Life SMP spoilers #Secret Life spoilers #bigbst4tz2 #BigB #EthosLab #impulseSV #Joel Smallishbeans #Boat Boys #Lizzie LDShadowLady #Gem and the Scotts #GeminiTay #Scott Smajor #I think that's everyone #Riddle watches Traffic #traffic spoilers #traffic life smp

[eluminium]

SKIZZLEMAN WEEK LETS GOO!!!! May not have actually written and finished something for like two years BUT SKIZZLEMAN WEEK IS MORE POWERFUL THAN PROCRASTINATION!!!!

Thank you @skizzlemanweek for organizing and creating these prompts!

Prompt 1: Silent/Shout

-

It had been a weirdly silent few weeks on Magic Mountain.

Well, kind of. Of course, with seven hermits nearby and many more in horse riding distance, real silence is quite a rare phenomenon. But for the residents around Magic Mountain, an uncomfortable stillness louder than expected had settled into their hearts lately. As she cleans out the bones of her latest catch, Gem remembers mentioning it to Impulse recently.

"I didn't realize how much the man talks until he was gone. And now I'm like: Oh, this is what it's like for there to be silence, actually!"

The man in question? None other than Skizzleman, of course! Who isn't dead, just on some off-server business of some kind. At least that's what he told Gem and the others before leaving.

She rolls her eyes fondly at how Scar started talking about some conspiracy theory of his where Skizz is some heaven-sent spy barely a tick after Skizz took his leave. A rant that resulted in poor Mumbo explaining to a confused Joel that Scar's comic-book hero phase last season had some lasting side effects.

She unceremoniously drops the fish bones into the river outside her new anglerfish-shaped fish shop. They hit the water with a small splash before sinking into the murkiness below. Gotta give back to the river! Otherwise, it'll get mad. That's basic fisherwoman knowledge.

When she turns to head back inside so she can put the fish on the cutting boards away, her eyes catch the faint silhouette of Skizz's pyramid in the distance. The sight of it makes the silence around her somehow more prevalent. A sigh leaves her. She misses him. She never thought that the silence he leaves behind would suck this much.

But as she heads back inside, Gem reminds herself that she won't need to miss him for long. He said he'd only be gone for a few weeks, so he's due to be back pretty soon. Then she can go back to poking him for being old or something. In fact, she can almost hear him shout an overdramatic "HEYYY!" already as she points out that-

Wait.

She quickly drops the floppy boneless salmon in the chilled chest and rushes out the door. She may have a good imagination, but it's not THAT good! She looks around rapidly until her eyes catch something. Two figures in the distance. She squints, but it doesn't really help, so she pulls out a spyglass instead.

She can't help but gasp in surprised happiness when she spots familiar feathery wings and a bright spinning halo. It's Skizz! He's back!

Of course, Impulse stands next to him, his demonic tail flapping wildly in excitement. They seem to already be caught up in a conversation. Typical them, can't leave each other alone for five seconds. Seems like the perfect time for her to come and deliver some made-with-love Gem Punches!

But just as she's about to put the spyglass down and run over, she spots a shocking change in Impulse's facial expression. The happy smile decorating his face melts in a tick into something unreadable. (Fear? Annoyance? Teasing? A mix of that and more?) Confused, Gem stops and pans the spyglass over to Skizz's face. Is he…Is he making kissy faces at Impulse-?

Before she can even process what's going on, Impulse looks in her general direction and RUNS. Full-on sprints at top speed in a manner Gem would be impressed he could do if she wasn't so caught off guard. The spyglass quickly disappears into her inventory as she watches him approach with Skizz hot on his heels.

"GEM!!! HELP!!!" Impulse shouts in a clearly overdramatic tone.

"You can't run forever Dipple Dop!!!" Skizz cackles manically.

"What are you idiots doing?!" She tries to put on a tone of playful annoyance, but her amusement leaks through like water through a hole in a boat.

"He's gonna kiss me on the cheek, Gem!!! You gotta help me!!!" Impulse squeals as he runs around in circles on the shore, skillfully dodging Skizz's attempts to grab him.

Gem can't help it. She bursts out laughing so hard it almost hurts her throat. These dudes, she swears. Obviously, if Impulse was actually uncomfortable with the situation he'd tell Skizz, and they wouldn't have a silly goose chase on her front lawn, so she feels rather justified in cackling at his supposed misfortune. And she only laughs harder when Impulse lets out various desperate noises of desperation, which are comical enough that Skizz has to stop his chase because he's laughing too hard. His hands land on his knees as he completely loses it together with Gem. Impulse giggles and stops in his tracks instead of running further, all but confirming that they're just messing around.

"Wow, Gem! I beg for your help, and you laugh at me? I thought we were friends!" He says in an overly hurt tone while crossing his arms and sniffling dramatically.

Gem opens her mouth to respond, but before a single syllable leaves her, Skizz pounces on Impulse and finally scores his victory by snagging a smooch on the man's cheek. He even manages to catch Impulse in a hug. Gem lets out something between a cheer and an "awwwwwww!" as Impulse wiggles in his best friend's grasp.

"I missed you, Dipple Dop!" Skizz says with happy sincerity as he squeezes said Dipple Dop.

"Missed ya too buddy" Impulse responds, sounding like he's getting all air wrung out of him. He pats Skizz on the back. Skizz, in turn, lets him go and turns his eyes to Gem, still standing in the mouth of her anglerfish. He wastes no time jumping into the river, splashing water everywhere, and then swimming over to her.

"And I missed you too, Gemstone!" He cheers as she helps him up onto the solid (?) ground.

Gem can't help but smile as she tackles him for a hug of her own. As his sturdy and comfy arms wrap around her she feels, more than hears, how the hush around Magic Mountain fades away as one of its seven lively mountaineers has come home once again.

#skizzleman #hermitcraft #skizz week 1 #skizz week #my writing #impulsesv #geminitay #hermitfic #ARE YOU SURPRISED??? #BECAUSE I SURE AM #HAVN'T POSTED ANY WRITING IN SO LONG BUT SKIZZ WEEK GOT ME IN A TRANCE #do people even remember that i write

[theminecraftbee]

For the persona AU: have you put any thought into weapons for the cast members? Obviously less important than the personas but I feel like they still say a lot about the characters. If not I have a couple suggestions:

Joel: Axes. I just kind of associate him with axes. Alternately, he could get to use knives used for summoning personas as the protagonist.

Skizzleman: I think skizzleman should get a big bludgeoning weapon, like a hammer or mace, fitting with his physical damage role.

Scar: a bow feels like an appropriate choice given that it will mostly take second place to his magic.

Grian: if Joel doesn't get the knives, I think grian should.

Impulse: a gun. I have no reasoning for this other than it would be funny.

Gem: Swords. It feels a little weird to have the sword user come in so late, but it would also feel wrong not to give her one.

I HAVE THOUGHT ABOUT IT SOME! so, some of these match my thoughts, and some don’t! here is what I think my lineup is:

joel: knives. yeah him as an axe user would be fun but persona protagonists DO traditionally need a slash-y weapon, and I want to not give him a sword, so knives it is, starting with the one he used to summon his persona. it’s a metaphor or something.

scar: bow. yep! it’s a bow. he’s hotguy. he gets a bow. (also he’s a magic-user so giving him a bow makes perfect sense honestly.)

grian: here’s where I get weird. I think he should have a naginata/spear. they’re distance weapons, traditionally somewhat feminine but also traditional in a way that I think would say interesting things about his character, and they’re also really interesting for a strong guy with a small build. mainly, though, I fucking LOVE polearms/spears/related weapons and I think someone should have one. and that someone is grian.

skizz: I am back and forth between giving him axes (for big physical damage), hammers (same), or giving him brass knuckles, because like, I don’t know man. he has “socking his enemies in the face” energy. I am leaning towards brass knuckles.

impulse: okay look I KNOW he’s a healer but I also love the weird jrpg trope of “what if the healer had a HUGE AXE”. so this is the other reason skizz is getting brass knuckles: so impulse can have a fuck-off huge axe.

gem: yeah she gets swords we all know she gets swords lol.

so this is where I’m standing at the moment but I also REALLY LIKE YOUR TAKES HONESTLY.

#answered #loud-n #smallishsona au

[xximnotafckingprincessxx]

Limited Life – Episode 7′s Ending Timers

Here are the current standings in what is likely the penultimate episode of the Limited Life series! I’ll update this post as more people post their perspectives, and will add notes on how the standings have changed once all perspectives* have been posted. But, as of right now, based on the time that I could see in the last frame that the timer is visible, we have:

Smajor1995 (same place!) – 05:31:29*

PearlescentMoon (+3 places) – 05:28:18

Grian (+5 places) – 05:27:47

InTheLittleWood (-1 place) – 05:02:17

Bigbst4tz2 (+1 place) – 03:57:39

ZombieCleo (-2 places) – 03:57:27

ImpulseSV (-5 places)– 03:27:31

Tango (-1 place) – 02:57:37

Etho (*same place!) – 01:50:02

GoodTimeWithScar (same place!) – 01:34:32

Smallishbeans (third out) – 00:00:00

Skizzleman (second out) – 00:00:00

Solidarity🐤 (first out) – 00:00:00

*Importantly, just like the last few weeks, Bdouble0100 is not included on this list. Scott also mentioned at the end of his episode that some time is missing and that he’ll be adding that next week, but I decided to still note what his timer finished at by the end of this episode just for continuity. Etho’s standing was also obviously still estimated last week, and so any notes on the changes to his placement can be taken with a grain of salt since we technically don’t know where he stood by the end of last week to compare. 

#limited life spoilers #limited life smp #limited life #trafficblr #traffic smp #spoilers #also sorry about the delay with this one #i straight up just took a nap just as everyone started posting lol

[weirdeggii]

Skizzleman Week day 2!

Prompt: Hybrid/AU (by @skizzlemanweek)

AU of my own creation: Cave Dwellers AU - continued from yesterday

With every step he took towards the blue-spattered crevice, his anticipation grew.

The rumbling noise disappeared after a few minutes, but the weird fog in his vision remained.

The blue substance was definitely coming from something within the crevice, and it appeared to be growing out in veins from wherever the source was.

Skizz crouched down just in front of one of the tendrils, poking it with the tip of his sword. The substance scraped away from where his sword drew its path.

“Huh.” He breathed.

He cautiously stood back up again, being careful not to jostle his shoulder too much. He tested his sore foot and found that it didn’t hurt as badly as it did before.

The blue substance appeared to have a texture similar to moss, or maybe mold. It didn’t look toxic or anything, but there was definitely an odd aura about it.

There was an odd aura about this entire caving trip. Skizz had never been this lost before, nor had he ever been this unlucky when it came to finding resources - and that’s saying something.

He can’t find the exit to this cave, so he might as well try to figure out what’s going on. The blue substance must have something to do with it, since he’s never been this unlucky, and he’s never seen the substance before.

Skizz ducked his head and walked further into the crevice. He found that it was basically a thin tunnel, which was completely covered in the blue substance. His iron boots squished slightly into the ground with every step.

As he went deeper, he began to see little white flecks mixed in with the blue. Eventually, he came across a patch of the substance with tentacles growing from it.

“Huh,” Skizz breathed, and then jumped as the tendrils suddenly waved as he spoke.

“Whoa,” he said again, and the tendrils waved and lit up a slight blue.

“This is cool!” He cheered, and the tendrils lit up, waved, and made a little noise.

Suddenly, something deeper in the cavern shrieked, and the same rumbling noise from earlier started up again.

Skizz froze as the fog thickened, and the rumbling seemed like it was coming from all around him.

The fog was so thick that he couldn’t see anything at all - not even his hand in front of his face. His breathing picked up, and he pressed his back against the wall.

The wall squished under his weight, and he threw himself away with a barely-repressed shriek, brushing away bits of the blue substance that clung to his clothes.

He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know what was going on - Skizz was just gonna stand here and be silent until the chaos went away.

He wrapped his arms around himself, cringing in pain as he moved his injured arm, and waited.

Eventually the rumbling stopped, and Skizz let his arms fall away with a sigh.

“What are you doing?!”

Skizz jumped about a thousand feet in the air at the hushed voice. “What the— who’s there?” He called.

“Shhhh!” The voice shushed. “Get outta there man! You’re gonna summon the warden!”

“What the heck is a warden?” Skizz asked, keeping his voice down this time. He turned his head around, looking for the source of the voice. The fog was still thicker than ever, so his attempts were unsuccessful.

“Obviously you don’t know, you were literally talking to a sculk sensor…” the voice mumbled, a hint of snark in their tone.

“Quit judging me! Where are you even talking to me from?”

“I’m literally right above you, you can’t see me?”

“No! It’s pitch black in here!” Skizz looked up anyway, trying to see if he could find the person behind the disembodied voice.

“I can see just fine!”

“Then why don’t you come to me?” Skizz snarked. He was getting tired of this game - if this guy wanted something from Skizz, he should at least show himself.

“Fine.” Skizz heard the whoosh of air being displaced, and the soft squish of something landing on the blue substance. “Now are you gonna answer my question?”

Skizz turned to look at where he heard the person land, but could only make out a vague outline. The person had a bulkier build, and was shorter than himself, and Skizz could clearly make out the wings of a bat hybrid. Skizz blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision to no avail. “What question?”

The person sighed, and Skizz could practically taste the eye-roll. “Why you’re yelling in a warden’s den.”

“I was only yelling because I got hurt! And the tentacle-thingy was glowing when I’d talk.”

“The ‘tentacle thingy’ is called a sculk sensor, and setting them off can trigger a shrieker, which summons the warden.” The person explained. “Which is why we have to be quiet.”

Skizz blinked. “Was that the rumbling sound then? The warden?”

“No, the warden wasn’t summoned yet. The rumbling serves as a sort of warning. The first three rumbling sounds are warnings, and the fourth one summons the warden.”

This guy sure is saying some words, and Skizz can only understand some of them. “So, wait, what is the warden?”

Silence for a moment, where Skizz thinks he isn’t going to answer. Then, the mystery person speaks. “You really aren’t from down here are you?”

“No, of course not!” Skizz exclaims, throwing his arms out. “I’ve been running around this cave system like an idiot for hours! I got chased by spiders, shot in the arm, and jump-scared by some random guy-!” Skizz pointed at the figure, who twitched backward at the action. “-who started being rude for no reason and still won’t answer my question. So I’ll ask again. What. Is. The warden?!”

The word echoed in the confined space of the cavern, amplified by the close-knit walls. Skizz realized what he had done a second too late, as the tendrils on the sculk sensor waved and made a sound, and a shrieker screamed further down the cavern.

“Shit.” He and the person said at once.

Then the rumbling began.

Worse than before, the whole cavern began to shake. The fragile sculk vines shook and fell away from the walls with the intensity of the tremors, and what little he could see was quickly swallowed up by the thickest fog he’s ever seen. He couldn’t even make out the slightest shape of the bat hybrid’s body anymore.

On the other end of the cavern, something began to emerge from the ground. The sculk warped and bulged and squished around, as something unearthed itself.

Skizz could hear his heartbeat in his ears - or, maybe it wasn’t his heartbeat, but instead a horrific sound coming from something else in this cave.

He felt someone grab the wrist of his left arm and pull, and he hissed in pain as his injury flared at the treatment.

“We need to go. Now.” The voice hissed.

Skizz could tell this wasn’t the time to argue, and frankly, he was inclined to listen to whatever this guy would tell him right now. He’s injured, scared, and frankly, tired of being in this cave. He nodded, not knowing if it was safe to talk.

“The warden is blind, so it can only track us through sound and smell. I can get us out of here, but you’re gonna have to trust me. I know- I know that’s a big ask of someone you just met, but-“

Skizz slid his hand over the bat hybrids’, cutting off his rambling and giving a firm nod. This guy is the expert here, and Skizz knows when to give the authority to someone else.

The warden fully emerged from the ground - Skizz could hear it sniffing and groaning from here.

“Okay,” the hybrid breathed entwining their fingers, “hold on.”

Skizz squeezed the hybrid's hand and felt his other arm go around his waist, pulling Skizz to his side. Then, with a beat of the hybrid’s wings, they leaped up onto a ledge in the cavern, several meters from the floor.

The warden groaned as it wandered towards where they just were, sniffing the spot where Skizz had leaned against the wall - some of his blood must’ve got on the sculk from his sleeve.

The warden had tendrils on its head that were similar to those of the sculk sensor, and Skizz imagined they served the same purpose. The wardens rib cage was exposed, and now Skizz could clearly see the source of the heartbeat - the warden had a giant heart beating away in that chest.

The hybrid pulled on Skizz’s hand again, and Skizz turned to look.

The fog was less thick up here, and he could just barely make out the other person’s eyes. They were entirely black, no visible pupil or iris or anything. Just like, well, a bat’s eyes.

“C’mon,” The hybrid said. “We’re not in the clear yet.”

Skizz nodded, continuing to follow their lead. They pulled him by the hand along a narrow path carved into the ceiling. As they walked, Skizz let the fingers of his other hand drag against the wall, and he could clearly feel chips and scratches that could only have been made by a pickaxe.

The sounds of the warden got quieter the further away they went, and eventually the pathway turned away from the crevice and into the wall, presumably deeper into the general cave area.

Eventually, the blindness caused by the warden completely faded, and Skizz could get a good look at his companion.

The bat hybrid was wearing dark clothing with accents of a lighter color - it was still too dark to tell what. His wings were a dark brown, and his hair was a similar shade. Skizz looked down to their joined hands and spotted nicely manicured nails - or maybe just dull claws.

The warden was so far removed from them that it wasn’t even a threat anymore, but Skizz still didn’t want to let go of his hand.

“My name is Impulse, by the way.” The hybrid said, glancing back at Skizz as they kept walking, offering a kind smile.

Skizz returned it with a sheepish one of his own. “I’m Skizz. Sorry we got off on the wrong foot earlier, I was scared and didn’t know what was happening.”

“Don’t sweat it man, I understand. Just… maybe next time don’t scream at me while stood next to a sculk sensor.”

Skizz laughed, swinging their hands between them (and immediately regretting it when his shoulder stung from the motion). “No promises.”

#the next one will be a different au #skizzleman #hermitcraft #impulsesv #skizz week 1 #my writing #fanfiction #I hope to come back to this au soon but the next part is giving me some trouble

[ice-cap-k]

Get Some Rest

Cross-posted on AO3 here: Get Some Rest

______________________________________

“Skizz! Psst! Skizzleman…”

“I think we have to be louder, Grian. Try getting closer.”

“If I got any closer I’d be on top of him. Skizz! Come on, wake up old man.” 

Skizz didn’t want to wake up. He was just so nice and cozy and warm in his bed. Even Kevin Bubbles Malone Refrigerator Jimmy Mad-Eye Dugon complained from his spot on top of the covers. The poor pup whimpered in annoyance as he covered his ears with his paws. Skizz wished he could do the same. Instead, he settled for pulling the pillow over his head as he rolled over. “I don’t want ta-” he managed to mumble. 

“Well, you gotta,” Grian said with a huff. “If me and Scar can’t sleep, then neither can you.”

“Meh.” 

“Well if that ain’t the comeback of the century.” 

“Don’t just stand there doing nothing, Scar. Help me.”

The wonderful warmth of his blanket vanished as someone pulled it away. The cool air came as a shock to his half-asleep system, but he kept his eyes screwed shut even as he reached after it. The two tricksters were too fast, though. The blanket was flung off his bed before he had a chance to snatch it back. Defeated, he could only grumble into his pillow and wish for them to disappear. “Let me sleep. Go bother Impulse instead.”

“We tried-” Scar started, only to have Grian cut him off. 

“Impulse said he’d throw a crucifix at us if we didn’t leave him alone.”

“And you’re the only other one of the Dads left,” Scar added. “I still can’t believe Impulse, though. He’s always so nice and polite, and here he went and threatened us. It’s so unlike him.” 

It was unlike his buddy to go and do that, but then again sleep deprivation made people act out in some wild ways. He might be tempted to do the same if he had a crucifix in arm’s reach. Not that he’d ever actually go through with it. Well, maybe… No, he’s just joshing with himself. Alas, all he had was an alarm clock, and that was plugged into the wall. Not a good choice for a projectile. Speaking of which…

Skizz dared to crack one eye open to get a look at the clock. The number 3:16 glowed bright green back at him in the dark. There were two things very wrong with this picture, and he was stashing away the fact that Scar and Grian had slipped into his house uninvited without so much as turning on a light as the one to address later. 

“Dudes, do you realize how late it is?”

“It’s dark,” Scar provided unhelpfully. 

“And it’s late,” Grian said with a smile. He threw open the blinds to Skizz’s bedroom, leaving a clear view of the stars twinkling outside. “As far as I’m concerned, that makes this the perfect time to go looking for ghosts. Let’s go back to Tanglewood and do a hunt!”

At this point, Skizz had given up on the possibility of them just going away and leaving him be. With a massive amount of effort, he managed to push himself up to a seat and out of the warm embrace of his bed. Kevin looked just as put out as he felt. He doesn’t blame the poor pup for crawling off the mattress and padding out of the room to look for someplace quieter to sleep. 

“No guys. We are not doing a hunt right now. It’s way too late for that. I need my beauty sleep and so do you.”

“We already told you we can’t sleep,” Scar said with a shake of his head. 

“Then you should go be at rest, or whatever else it is you guys can do,” Skizz shot back, throwing his hands up.

“We can go on a hunt,” Grian said again, a mischievous smile on his face. “That’s what we can do.”

“Come on Skizz.” Scar’s eyes become glossy as soon as he sees the look on his friend’s face. “Just one more. We can go back to the house. I can set up the motion sensors in the garage and Grian can do his spirit box thing… And you! Oh! You could run the camera this time instead of Impulse. And then if we get lucky we could find ourselves a monkey paw-”

“Or,” Skizz butt in. “And here me out with this one. Honestly, it sounds fantastic. Sounds like we’ll have ourselves a lot of fun and all, but how about we wait for tomorrow?” 

‘Never mind that they probably wouldn’t be able to do any of those things,’ he thinks to himself. Almost 90 percent of everything Scar just said was literally impossible right now. But he doesn’t dare say that out loud. He can already see the smile drop off his two friends’ faces and it makes Skizz feel bad. Really bad. Gosh they look so disappointed. He was always such a softy. “Aww, no long faces. Just think about it for a moment, really. We already had a pretty bad run yesterday. If the three of us go at it right now on our own, we’re never going to get the job done. That ghost is going to flatten us like pancakes and eat our faces for breakfast.” 

Grian didn’t look too pleased. “You mean ‘flatten us and eat our faces for breakfast again,’ right?” 

Skizz could only shrug. “Yeah. I mean again.”

“Then what do we do?” 

“We go tomorrow. Us three, and a well-rested Impulse with an actual set of equipment and the van… Hey, we could even ask Gem to help us out this time. She can watch our backs while we scope the place out.”

“Then what are me and Grian supposed to do until then,” Scar asked, sounding pretty sheepish. “We thought maybe a big strong Skizz would be able to handle it. Work some of his crazy Skizzleman magic.”

Stay strong Skizz. You have to stay strong for the sake of sleeping, and for the sake of tackling tomorrow well rested. He needed to be in tip top condition to catch some ghosts. But then he saw that Scar brought out the puppy dog eyes. Big wide glistening brown eyes of sadness and sweetness and he can feel himself melting the longer he looks at them. 

“If you think that flattery will get you anywhere…”

“Then you’re right,” both he and Grian say at exactly the same time.

“And you know me too well,” Skizz finished with a sigh. These two really did know him too well. He takes one last longing look at his cozy bed, because he knows what he has to do. And he doesn’t like it. “Fine. How about this, dudes? How about I go back to hang out with you guys until the morning? Then I’ll go get Impulse and Gem and we can go ghost hunting then. How does that sound?”

Grian looked a little skeptical, but he knew by the smile plastered across Scar’s face that this was happening. “Absolutely!” 

“Alright. Let me grab my coat and some shoes. Gentleman, let’s get ready to go.”

_______________________________

“I thought the weird hissing noise meant that it was an Oni?”

“No, apparently. Like, I don’t get it either. I don’t know why it means it’s not an Oni, but Impulse keeps saying that’s how that works. Right Skizz? Skizz…? Helloooo… Earth to Skizz!”

Grian’s loud voice jolts Skizz back awake before the tires can hit the bumps on the side of the road. He really shouldn’t be driving while drowsy like this. 

“You alright, Skizz,” Scar asked from the back seat. “Do we need to talk louder to help you stay awake?”

Grian tapped his fingers against the dashboard. He looks a little nervous, but then again he didn’t have much reason to be nervous about the situation right now. Skizz caught the young man shooting him a few sidelong glances out the corner of his eye and figured Grian must be more worried for his sake than his own or Scar’s. “You probably shouldn’t be driving drowsy like that. Want me to drive?”

“Oh please. You can’t drive,” Skizz huffed. 

“Very true, and for more reasons than one.” 

“We’ll talk louder,” Scar piped in, practically shouting into Skizz’s ear. Somehow, the man in the back seat managed to project his voice loud enough to leave Skizz’s ears ringing.

He wasn’t about to start dealing with that for an extended period of time. “Nope! No. No need for that. I’m good. We’re all good. We’re almost there anyway. I can stay awake for the next mile and a half.”

The other two didn’t respond right away, and the silence quickly became awkward. He could only endure so much time without background noise to focus on. There was always the radio. He was just starting to debate whether or not he should turn on some tunes when Grian spoke up once more. “Are you seriously going to stay with us all night?”

“Sure dude.” He flicks on the blinker as he pulls up to a stop sign. “It’s kinda my fault things went wrong earlier today. I’m the one who opened my big mouth when she came out to play. I sort of owe you guys.”

“Not true,” Scar jumped in. “That ghost was just an angry jerkface.”

Skizz could see Grian nodding in agreement in the rearview mirror. “We all were triggering hunts left and right. We’re lucky it wasn’t worse.”

“Yeah, but I still feel bad.” 

“Don’t,” Scar insisted. He added a little more quietly, “but we’d really appreciate the company if we’re not going back to check the house.”

,

“We’re not,” Skizz confirmed. “There’s no way I’d be able to pull it off.”

“We,” Scar corrected him. “You mean ‘we.’”

Skizz nodded. “Sorry. I mean ‘we.’ But we can chill out until everything gets sorted. And if this will help you guys, then maybe I can even get some sleep myself.”

Grian scoffed. “Outside?”

“Sure. Stranger things happen all the time.”

“Thank’s Skizz. You’re the best dad ever.”

Gosh, that nickname was still so weird. But the weirdness wasn’t enough to keep the sentiment from making him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. “Awww, stop it.” 

The car came rolling to a stop alongside the open field. They were just outside the edge of the suburb where they frequently checked Tanglewood for ghosts. Nobody was around. They were all probably asleep in their beds like normal people who didn’t get pestered by their friends in the middle of the night. You know, the boring kind of normal people. Skizz threw open the driver-side door and stepped out into the cool night air. He rubbed at his shoulders, glad he had thought to bring his coat along. He didn’t hear the back door of the car open or close, but wasn’t surprised when Grian and Scar caught up to him.

“Which way was it again?”

“Over there,” Scar says, pointing towards a familiar row of trees. “It’s honestly a lovely spot. We could probably find you a nice mossy place between the roots to get comfy in.” That got a few giggles from Grian. 

It’s a bit of a hike, but the promise of sleep is plenty of motivation for Skizz. Even if that meant sleeping on the ground. The dew had just started soaking into the hem of his pants when they reached the first tree in the line. 

“It really is a nice place you two have here,” Skizz said as he leaned against the trunk. “Remind me to visit more often.”

“Hardy har-har,” Grian snapped back, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Keep that up and it will be you staying here next time things go south. We’ll see how you like it then.” 

“Thanks for the offer. I think I’ll pass.” 

Scar looked much more comfortable to be back here at least. He was already settling down in the grass, taking a seat with criss-crossed legs. Skizz found himself marveling at how unfazed the man was by the dampness. The dew-laden grass brushed past his pants without leaving so much as a wet spot. “You and Impulse will find that monkey’s paw or the tarot cards, right?”

“Better believe it, dude.”

“And if everything goes wrong again, you both can hang out with us here until Gem figures out-” Grian started, but Skizz cut him off.

“Hey, don’t think like that. We’ve got this. Remember, we’re professionals. The best ghost hunters the world has ever seen.”

He can still make out a glint of skepticism in Grian’s eyes, but his friend doesn’t try to protest further. Instead, he settled down next to Scar in the grass. Skizz decided to join them, letting his back slide down the side of the tree trunk until he was seated in the damp moss lining its base. He frowned as the dew seeped into his clothes, but it wasn’t as bad as the grass. Things could be worse.

Scar yawned. He stretched his arms over his head in a nice big stretch. “Good,” he managed after the yawn faded. “I can’t wait to go back home and see Jellie.”

“Now how about you get some rest,” Skizz offered. “I’m here now. Just… I don’t know. Don’t move on or whatever it is that might keep you from coming back.”

“No worries,” Grian said, suppressing a yawn of his own. “We’ll be around. And if not, we'll see you on the other side tomorrow.”

“Grian! Don’t say things like that!” 

The young man made no attempt to correct himself. He broke into a fit of giggles before letting himself flop backward. His back hit the mound of dirt behind him and the laughter abruptly cut off as he vanished from sight. 

“Hey! Don’t go incorporeal on me now, mister! Someone’s got to teach you about the wonders of positive thinking.”

Scar started laughing too, though with less gusto than Grian. “Night Dad,” he said before falling backwards as well. Skizz watched as his remaining friend disappeared into the dirt mound behind him. 

It was quiet with the two of them gone. Only the sound of the breeze rustling through the leaves over his head was left to keep him company. He was alone now. Probably. Maybe. It was hard to tell with ghosts. 

Not that Skizz would have minded the company. Clearly, they were glad to have him nearby. So he settled down in his own bed of moss alongside the two graves and tried to get comfortable. He even made sure to face the mounds in case Scar and Grian needed him for any reason. Hopefully, they would let him get some sleep tonight… Then he felt the jab of a branch in his back and realized, yeah, he's not getting much sleep tonight.

Tomorrow he and Impulse would hunt down a cursed object and wish them back to life. They wouldn’t have to stay in those temporary graves for very long. But until then, he had to get whatever sleep he could get during this impromptu little sleepover. Going into a haunted building half awake was a surefire way to get himself a hole of his own right next to Grian and Scar’s. 

#whumptober 2023 #prompt no. 12 #“I'm up I'm up!” #hermitcraft #phasmophobia #creative writing #implied character death #drowsy driving #Grian #goodtimeswithscar #skizzleman #ghosts #losing sleep

[zedif-y]

it's gonna hurt like hell (to become well)

The poll says people want it, so... Here you go! Cross posted on AO3 :] Enjoy!

(Part 1/5)

NOTE: This story is likely going to stay UNFINISHED, so read at your own risk!

---

Most tragic backstories start with blood. Sometimes fire, sometimes screaming. A family lost, maybe a dragon sprinkled in there, a deal with the fae gone awry…

Often, they’re heroic. They’re the birth of stronger beings. Stories of someone emerging from the calamity with a remarkable strength or power that leads them to save a village, or a kingdom, or even a world. 

Sometimes, it’s as simple as saving the people they love.

But stories aren’t created equal. Sometimes the knight falters– and sometimes the dragon wins.

They don’t tell stories about the blood, the fire and the screaming. They don’t crow about fallen legends, where things get worse instead of better. Someone loses one person, then another, and another until they’re alone, forced to find their own way through complete darkness. There’s no heroes; only victims. 

But time passes anyway, as it’s prone to do. They build themselves back up. Hope lingers, just barely enough to keep going. They’re not the same, never will be, but maybe, just maybe, things can be okay. And soon enough their guard starts to fall, old heroes turned into people just trying to move on… 

Alas, life is keen to throw surprises at anyone unprepared. 

This is how Skizz wakes, jolted by a sharp knocking at the door. 

He groans and rolls over.

Really? He thinks, eyebrows scrunched together. Business couldn’t wait a few more minutes? He needs his beauty sleep, gosh! 

A pillow mark sits on his cheek, his hair a tousled mess. Maybe they’ll go away if he doesn’t…

Skizz was so close to drifting off again when the knocking comes back, harder this time. He lets out a groan.

It didn’t feel urgent. People didn’t tend to wait for him if it was. Just some persistent messenger or something. 

At least, he tells himself that. Sleep still pulls at him, and he doesn’t really want to drag himself out of bed yet. Lucky for him, he doesn’t live alone! 

“Joker? Could you get the door?” Skizz calls, his voice rough with sleep. 

No response. He sighs. Maybe lucky for him if it were anyone else. 

“JOKER?” 

Still no answer. Before Skizz can try a third time, he finally hears, “How about YOU get your butt up and get the door? It’s gonna be for you anyway! And I always get the door!” 

Skizz huffs. Getting his butt up was exactly what he was trying to avoid— 

“THAT’S NOT TRUE! I GET THE DOOR MORE THAN YOU!” 

“GET IT NOW THEN! YOU’RE LATE, YOU NEED TO GET UP!” 

“I’m not—” Skizz freezes. He rubs at his eyes, squinting as his vision starts to clear. There sure is a lot of daylight pouring into his room, now that he thinks about it… 

Skizz balks. Crap. He overslept. 

“Yep— GETTING UP!” 

He hears muffled laughter from across the hall as he leaps out of bed—but he’s only able to focus on annoyance for a second. He flings open his wardrobe and snatches his clothes, hurriedly changing into them. He spends a few moments in the bathroom to make sure he looks a little more presentable– dude, his hair was a bird’s nest– and by the time he’s in the living room, Joker has gotten up as well. 

Joker is standing by the door, and he meets Skizz’s gaze as he walks in. “You forgot about your mail,” he says. 

So he could’ve gotten the door. “Oh, right— I don’t assume the guy is still there,” Skizz replies, making his way over. Joker shakes his head. 

“Nah, they were gone by the time I looked out. They left something for you, though.” 

Skizz hums questioningly and opens the door. A letter sits on the doormat, blue ink scribbled across the front. As he bends to pick it up, he reads, “To Skizzleman, from–”

His breath hitches, his heart leaping into his throat.

From Tango.

He chews on his lip, tears pricking his eyes. His mind reels with questions, damn near clouding his head– why now? He thinks, his hands shaking, just a little. After everything, why now?

He quickly blinks them away and shuts the door, shoving the letter in his bag on the floor. Whatever the reason is, he has to get to work, he can’t— he can’t do that right now. 

“I told you it was for you— hey, aren’t you gonna read it?” Joker asks as Skizz turns away, heading into the kitchen. 

“I have to go,” Skizz mumbles, grabbing some food from the cabinets. He stuffs some in his mouth and throws the rest in a small sack to snack on later. 

“Are you oka—” 

“Bye Joker!” Skizz cuts him off, throwing his bag over his shoulder and nearly hitting Joker with the door as he rushes out. “Love you, see you later!” 

“I— bye!” 

He’s fine, he tells himself as he makes his way down the road. The letter is probably nothing! 

But… he hasn’t seen that name in a year, and it scares him. 

Skizz does his best to shake it off. Right now, business mode. 

- - - - - -

“I don’t want none of ‘yer spell nonsense on me!” 

Skizz barely manages to uphold his polite smile. “Yes, I know, sir. You mentioned that. But I have to heal you somehow, and my magic would be the most effective way. It would only take a—” 

He’s cut off by a growl, eyes flashing purple. “Give me potions instead!” 

But those—! Skizz’s feathers twitch. Those are also made with his magic. And not just that, they’re way less efficient. He’d practically perfected ‘em, yeah, but for an Enderian? Potions? Does this guy even realize how difficult it is to make those things work on his kind?!

“I don’t recommend—”

“Potions,” he repeats. His voice is all static-y, grating on his ears. Skizz just barely suppresses a wince. “Or I go to a different cleric.”

Skizz sighs. And what, get treated with stuff that won’t even work on him?

He summons his patience, “Normal potions won’t work on you,” Skizz explains, eyeing the guy carefully. “So I’m giving you Enderian ones, yeah? But you’ll need to take more of them, ‘cuz they’re less potent. That good enough for ya?”

His patient nods. A pleased, rumbling croak, “Finally.”

As soon as the door closes, Skizz lets out a groan. Hopefully he doesn’t complain about how much longer it takes… Grumbling under his breath, Skizz moves to a cabinet above the brewer. Not many left, but he spots a few bottles with dark purple liquid. It’ll be enough to heal the guy. 

“All this for some back pain,” he mutters to himself. He gives the bottles a shake, making sure they're still good, then places them in a bag.

“Alright, here you go,” Skizz says, pushing through the door to the examination room. He hands the bag to the Enderian. “These should fix you up. Wait at least an hour in between taking them, and if you need any more, feel free to send a message.” 

“Thanks,” the enderian replies gruffly. He hops off the small cot and leaves, his payment left in a bag. Skizz practically deflates.

He returns to the room with his brewing stand, heading for his desk in the corner. It’s relatively clean, though the stack of papers on one side glares at him. He should sort them and put them away, but… Eugh. Boring on top of boring.

…Not that his current job is much more entertaining.

“Well,” he grumbles, sitting down. “Now to write a report on him.” 

The front door slams open, “Cleric, we need a cleric!”

—Or not!

“Right here!” Skizz says, shooting up from his seat. “What’s up, whaddya need?”

He takes in the guy, who’s panting a little as he catches his breath against the doorway. Skizz recognizes him, a patient from several months ago. Mumbo, his name was? Another Enderian ironically, but much more pleasant than his earlier patient; he’d badly broken his arm and come to Skizz for aid. It seems to be working fine now, a bag clutched in his claws, but his face is grimy with soot, which makes Skizz nervous. 

“You’re—” he starts, but Mumbo cuts him off.

“Several houses at the edge of the village caught fire. They’re– they’re nearly out now, but we need help, someone was badly hurt— we didn’t want to move them—” 

Skizz is grabbing his stuff before he even finishes, bandages (magic-infused as well as regular ones) and whatever else he might need and stuffing them in his pack. He nearly hauls Mumbo back outside as he says, “Well, c’mon then, let’s go, go!”

They head to the stables to pick up Skizz’s horse. He asks for the basics, how dire are the injuries, how many people to treat…

Smoke rises in the distance. Skizz steels himself, trying not to think about it, and instead listen to Mumbo. 

“There’s a lot of small burns, but only one person is seriously hurt. When one of the taller buildings went up, they had to jump out, and didn’t pick the greatest place to do so.” 

Skizz hums. He should have enough to deal with injuries, then. 

Skizz gets Gluestick, careful not to drop any of his stuff. He shifts, getting comfortable on his saddle. Then, “Alright. Lead the way, let’s roll!”

Houses and trees whir past in a blur of motion, familiar faces waving to him as he thunders past them on his horse. Bottles full of healing potions and containers of salve clink softly together in his bag. As he follows Mumbo, the wind whipping past him and ruffling his hair, he can’t help but think…

His eyes catch on a dark plume of smoke. Dread freezes his lungs cold; it must not be fully out yet.

Ah.

A part of him wondered from the moment he heard the news how he’d react to the scene— the roiling heat of a fire dying down, the sight of ash in the air as his clothes and skin turn stained black with soot. It’s not like it’s the first time he’s seen fire since, well. And it even makes sense! It’s the middle of summer, thatch roofs burned easily and set the house alight if they started. It’s just that it’s uncommon for it to be several buildings. What if it spreads—?

Skizz shakes his head, clearing his thoughts.

He’s a professional, dammit! Someone needed help, their life could be in danger; he could handle some fire. 

As they near the scene, the blackened buildings and stench of smoke make Skizz feel a bit sick. He swallows and forces himself to breathe— throwing up right now would be… a little awkward, to say the least. He scans the area. People look over at the clip clop of his horse’s hooves, but none the person he’s looking for. 

“Where’s the badly injured one?” Skizz asks. 

Mumbo gestures to a small group near one of the burnt down houses. As Skizz slips off his horse, they move away, revealing someone lying on a mess of blankets thrown on the ground. Skizz hands Gluestick’s reins to Mumbo, then kneels next to the person. 

Hold on— he recognizes him too. Martyn. No wonder Mumbo looked terrified. 

He’d felt that once, too. 

Skizz shakes that thought away. All he can do is focus on fixing him up. 

“Hey, Martyn,” he says gently. “Rough day, huh, buddy? Where are you hurt worst?” 

“I- I… I think I’ve broken something,” Martyn rasps. “My legs, they… they…” 

“Yeah, I gotcha. It’s okay,” Skizz hushes him. He digs around in his bag. Martyn’s not anything too special, certainly not Enderian, so his usual potions will work well this time. Skizz offers him one. “Here, can you drink this? It’ll help while I get your legs fixed up.” 

Skizz gets Martyn propped up just enough to drink it, and Martyn exhales as he potion takes effect, removing some of his pain. Satisfied, Skizz grabs a few more things from his bag and gets to work. 

Soon, Martyn is healed enough, and Skizz moves on to helping anyone else who’s injured. His bag steadily becomes emptier, and at one point while taking a potion out for a patient, his eyes catch on the letter from earlier. Skizz’s heart skips a beat.

Again, he brushes it aside. Later, he tells himself. Later. He still has people to heal. 

Like lingering smoke, it plagues him anyway.

- - - - - -

Despite it only being a small part of the village, it’s a while before Skizz leaves. He keeps staying longer, making sure no one else needs him, helping them find somewhere to stay until they can rebuild. He even returns the money Mumbo tries to give him; he knows, he knows how awful it is to start over, and anything helps. 

When finally he returns to his workplace and gets Gluestick comfortable in the stables, his mind is a mess. Not about his work— he did his job very well, and he feels good about that. It’s about the memories he doesn’t want to remember, about the letter that almost feels heavy in his bag, about what will happen tonight in his dreams. 

It’s late when Skizz nears home, stumbling a little on the village paths. His body feels heavy, as if weighed down by lead, the flood of memories just aching to spill. They drag him down like an anchor, his chest tight like he’s drowning. Skizz lets out a breath.

As he passes a lantern, he’s able to see himself properly. Under the warm, bright light, the grime stands out clear as day. Ash and soot mars his wings and clothes, more of it than he expected there to be. His heart stutters in his ribcage, images of ravaged town circling like a hurricane in his mind’s eye—

He picks up his pace. He needs to get inside, get cleaned, get those stupid thoughts out of his head. His breathing goes faster. The smell of smoke lingers on him like a ghost, and it makes him sick; he thought he’d gotten over it, it’s been over a year—but now he’s not so sure. 

Finally, a familiar building comes into view.

The sight of his and Joker’s place calms him somewhat. It’s familiarity—a much nicer kind—and Skizz is eager to see his housemate again. 

His heart rate is steadier as he steps inside, “Jokes, I’m home!” 

The house is dark and quiet. A worm of anxiety starts to crawl in Skizz’s mind. Where–?

Joker sits up on the couch with a grumble. Skizz lets out a breath. 

“You’re back late, man. Long day?” 

Joker stands and flicks on the light, his robe swaying as he moves. He must’ve been ready for bed a while ago, did he stay up to wait for him?

The thought makes a warmth bloom in his chest, but… he also feels guilty. Bah! He shakes his head. Business called, not his fault!

“Uh, yeah,” Skizz says. “Sorry. You didn’t have to stay up, buddeh.” 

“I know. I like to make sure you’re good. Although if you’d been another hour, I would’ve fallen asleep on ya,” Joker chuckles. His eyes flick over to Skizz and widen. “What happened?” 

Skizz goes tense. Right. He looks like he fought some coal and lost.

“There— there was a fire on the edge of town. A couple houses went up, and it took a while for them to go out. Only one person was seriously hurt, and he’s fine now, but I…” Skizz trails off, swallowing hard.

“Oh gosh.” 

Skizz tries not to think about it, but the smoke and dying flames flicker in his mind, so similar to… 

He shuts his eyes, head swimming. Joker’s hands take his and gently mess with his fingers, pulling him back.

“Okay, buddy, sit down. Let’s get you cleaned up.” 

Skizz takes a deep breath and opens his eyes. He’s gotta pull himself together, gosh! It’s fine now, he’s home.

Joker leads him to the couch, letting go as Skizz sits. “What do you wanna wear? If you can get your stuff off, I’ll get you something to change into,” he says. 

“I— of course I can. What am I, a toddler?” Skizz grumbles. “Also it doesn’t matter. Whatever’s clean.” 

Joker giggles. “Alright.” 

He disappears into another room. Skizz works on undressing, trying to ignore the stains on his clothes. The ash makes his wings itch, gritty and uncomfortable on his feathers. There’s a desperate thrum in his veins– he needs to clean them, seriously has to, get it off– 

Skizz steadies himself, eyes screwed shut. One step at a time. 

Joker returns and tosses him some clothes. Skizz looks up just in time for them to smack him in the face. 

“Hey!”

Joker just laughs. Skizz huffs, glaring at him as best as he can. 

“Sorry! I thought you’d catch them,” Joker says, a grin on his stupid smug face. “You really need to do laundry by the way.” He sits, then gestures to the floor in front of him. “Put the pants on then c’mere. I’ll get your wings.” 

“I’ve been busy!” Skizz says defensively. Joker rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Skizz tosses the shirt on the couch and plops down on the hardwood floor. A hand runs along his back as Joker inspects him, gentle despite his teasing. Skizz shivers at the touch. 

“You’re not hurt anywhere, are you?” Joker asks, his voice murmured in concentration. 

Skizz shakes his head. “I don’t think so.” 

“Okay,” Joker hums, beginning to shift feathers around and brush them off. “So, tell me about the rest of your day. What about this morning?” 

The knot loosens in Skizz’s chest. “Oh, you wanna know what happened? Absolutely nothing. It was so boring!” He complains, gesturing with his hands. “And I still didn’t get any paperwork sorted, because, y’know, I’m super smart with my time. It’s fine, I’ll get it done at some point.” 

Joker snickers, “Oh, yeah, definitely.” 

“Shut up. Oh, there was this one guy—” 

“Uh oh.” 

“—who would not let me heal him! He didn’t trust my magic or something. He only wanted potions. And not just any potions. It was an Enderian, dude, do you know how hard it is to get the right stuff to heal them with potions?” 

Joker chuckles, running his fingers through Skizz’s wing. “You’ve mentioned it once or twice. How did you heal him?” 

“I ended up giving him a few potions I had left over that would work on him. I need to make more now. I’ll have to go to the one town a day’s journey away with a guy that sells the stuff I need, which is… super,” Skizz grumbles. 

A hand soothes at his back, “Oof, man.” 

“Yeah, oof. You’d think that after being a cleric for forever, people would learn to actually trust you when you say something will work!” Skizz huffs. “Jerks.”

Joker nods, though Skizz doesn’t see it. “Jerks indeed,” he replies solemnly.

They fall silent for a while after that, Joker busy preening Skizz’s wings. As Skizz waits for him to finish, his mind wanders. Just passing thoughts at first, bouncing from one thing to the next. Then it stumbles across something that makes Skizz stiffen—another memory, just a bit more fresh than the others he’d uncovered today. A realization.

“It’s been a year,” he says quietly. Joker hums in question, and Skizz takes a breath. “It’s been a year since… since…” 

He still can’t bring himself to say it. His hand moves to trail over a scar across his abdomen. Then the couple at his side, then his arms. A myriad of markings, each with their own story to tell.

Skizz grimaces. And tomorrow, he’ll wake up with more.

Joker notices, and even in the silence, he knows. He rubs Skizz’s shoulder with a murmur, “It’s been that long, huh?” 

Skizz focuses on his breathing. In, and out.

“Yeah,” Skizz answers. “I don’t know if it feels like it or not.” 

His gaze flicks to his wrist. On it are two bracelets that he holds dear. One is more recent, a silly little thing he’d done with Joker, with threads of blue and green and purple. The other is much older; it shows some wear, threads fraying at the ends and a bit of fuzz sticking up from it. It’s blue, yellow, pink, and red, and Skizz never took it off unless he had to. 

A part of him burns at the reminder. He half-expects it to scorch his fingertips as he traces it with a hand, emotions welling in him like hot coals.

He wonders if he’ll ever let go of it.

Skizz fiddles with the bracelets, thinking. Joker taps his shoulder. 

“Your wings are all done, I think.” 

That startles him out of his reverie, “Oh, thanks.” 

Skizz stands and stretches them out. They feel lighter, nicer. Way less itchy. Folding them, he reaches for his shirt. 

“You okay?” Joker asks as he stands. 

“Yeah, I— yeah,” Skizz sighs. “It’s been a long day, but I’ll be alright after some sleep.” 

Joker nods slowly. “Have you eaten anything?” 

“Oh, I—” Skizz pauses. He’d been so busy that evening. “... I don’t think so.” 

“You—” Joker shakes his head, exasperated. “Alright, well, if you’re hungry, I made bread earlier. I’m going to bed now.” 

Skizz chuckles. “Okay. Night, buddy!” 

“Night night.” 

Skizz grabs a bite to eat from the kitchen, then heads to his room. He’s exhausted, and he wasn’t lying when he said sleep would make him feel better, easily sinking into the soft sheets. But as soon as he lays down and closes his eyes, his mind (stupid, traitorous mind that never shuts up–) starts running again.

Skizz sighs. He wasn’t gonna get as much sleep as he hoped, was he? 

At least he’d be off work tomorrow.

And then he remembers. 

The letter. 

It’s late. It’s so late, Joker’s already gone to bed, he really should save it. But… he has to know. He’s sure he’s not sleeping until he does. Tomorrow, he can discuss whatever it is with Joker, but he needs answers. 

Skizz gets up carefully and tiptoes into the living room. The letter is still in his bag, and he takes it with him back to his room, flicking on his bedside lamp as he sits down. 

He stares at the name, his jaw tense. He traces the familiar handwriting, glaring like it’ll give him the strength to open it. Tango. 

It sits there, just… mocking him.

(At the back of his mind, Skizz realizes he’s forgotten Tango’s laugh.)

What could he want? Skizz wracks his head for any clues, flipping the sealed letter over in his hands. He hadn’t tried to communicate with Skizz in ages, and there was no formal occasion. This was so out of the blue; should he be wary?

He bites his lip. Probably. But… 

Agh, screw it.

Skizz slits open the envelope. He peers into it, wary like it’s gonna explode on him. There’s something folded inside, and as he pulls it out he realizes it’s a map. 

As he studies it, he expects to recognize it, but… where was this? 

There’s a circle over a particular area. Hmm… 

A note falls into his lap as he unfolds the last bit of the map. Skizz grabs it, curious, but there’s only a few words on it. 

“‘Follow the map’?” Skizz whispers, then groans softly. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” 

This was what he was so nervous about? 

“Over a year, Tango, over a year,” Skizz mutters. Heat bubbles and simmers under his skin. “It’s been so long, and the first thing you send me, you don’t even say hi. Just give me an order. What is that?” 

No how’s life, you doing okay? Not even an apology for–

Skizz lets out a breath. He’s tired, it’s late, and there clearly isn’t anything else in the damn envelope.

Grumbling, he folds the map back up and sets everything on the bedside table. Problems for tomorrow. 

…Future Skizz has a lot to think about.

#ryan's writing #skizzleman #misterjoker #hermitcraft au #mcyt au #mcyt fanfic #mcytblr #to become well #<<tag for this fic

[dmwrites]

It wasn’t that Etho was scared of the fort he’d heard was ruled by fairies. He didn’t do “scared”, went against the cool, collected vibes he tried to exude at all times. But, breaking into the fort and finding four beings, all still bristled from Skizz’s failed enchanting table heist, was rather intimidating.

Lizzie was their leader, that much was obvious. The other three, Ren, Cleo, and BigB all gathered behind her, leaned in like she was a magnet and they were the metal pulled into her sides. As soon as Etho emerged fully into the clearing, Ren came forward at once, going on and on about a break in (what? him? never.), while BigB went over to the entrance, sword out, and Cleo stayed lurking behind Lizzie.

“Stand down, Ren.” Lizzie said, and Ren backed off at once, resuming his post on some logs. “What is your business here, Ethoslab?”

“I came to see if the legends were true about the fort of fairies, and it seems to be. You have the enchanting table.” Etho said, taking a few cautious steps forward. The table was on a small stone platform, like it was being served on a platter.

“Oh, and I’m sure this visit is completely unrelated and coincidental from the visit we just had from your friend, Skizzleman.” Cleo said waspishly.

“Who?” Etho asked.

“Guys, I think Skizz and Bdubs are conversing over on the other side of the river.” BigB said, spyglass out. Lizzie sighed, seeming stressed.

“So, just curious, who’s the big bad guard dog here?” Etho asked, eyes flicking to Ren, then landing on Cleo. Cleo tilted her head at him, taking a step closer to Lizzie and cycling through an arsenal of weapons.

“Me, of course. I will protect the shadow queen with my life, as she so gave me one of her own.” Ren said in his usual dramatic fashion.

“Of course, Ren.” Etho replied, turning his gaze back to the dog. “Big and strong, you are. Went from a king to a knight. It’s noble, almost. Wouldn't you agree, Lizzie?”

He took a step towards the girl with the pink hair, only to be bodily pushed back by Ren. Cleo, on the other hand, reached for Lizzie, pulling her hand away when she saw Etho watching her through Ren’s fur.

“Down, Ren. He’s only teasing.” Lizzie said, uncertainty in her voice.

“So, you’re her knight, Ren. Makes sense. So, Cleo, what skin do you have in the game then, huh?” Etho asked, tilting his head at her. “Kind of odd, a fairy teaming up with a rotting corpse.”

“You keep this word nonsense up, and you’ll be a real rotting corpse.” Cleo replied, but Etho knew she was shaken too. Thats what Etho was good at, that’s what he did. Plant those seeds of doubt, ask Cleo why she is so dedicated to a facade of a queen. And speaking of planting seeds…

“Well, I think my cue to leave came and went, so I’ll be going now. BigB, could I chat to you for a moment?” Etho asked, passing out the front gate.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” BigB said uncertainly, glancing back at Cleo, who shrugged at him. Etho kept spinning the web, connecting the people and relationships together in his mind. Cleo and Lizzie… and odd pair for sure. And Cleo, well, if there was any further reason to stay away from the ring of trees, it was because of her, no one else. Cleo scared Etho. And if Cleo had something, someone to fight for, well, it would be wise to stay out of her way.

#November 25 2022 #fic #last life #ethoslab #ZombieCleo #Ren BigB and Lizzie are also there #long post #fairy fort alliance #mom dm’s being dramatic again

[fountainpenguin]

"Pretend to be sweet! Speak with a smile... Even if you're mad, play it cool for a while..." (x)

---

New Dog's Life chapter today! ~ 3rd Life series fan-season

Chapter 15 - “Scald (Ren, Jimmy, Scar)”

❤️ Read on AO3

💛 Start from Chapter 1

💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics

---

While Impulse prowls in search of Bdubs, life goes on. Ren, Joel, Jimmy, Tango, and Cleo get along in their respective spheres. And Scar? ... Well, since Etho never showed up for Session 2, Scar's teamed with a bunch of other explorers to tackle a cave adventure. With a group that large, it's only a matter of time before hunters turn on quarries...

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

---

Renthedog - Chicken

Quarry: ZombieCleo

Hunter: Smajor1995

Allegiance: Unaffiliated

💚  💛  ❤️

"Hey." Is that a weird thing to say to a guy you haven't seen since his particles dissolved? He looks better now, standing with his hands in his hoodie pockets. In traditional Joel fashion, he got a new outfit for Session 2. The hoodie's sky blue. Puffy pastel letters spell out Glitch Survivor down the front, surrounded by four hearts, several azaleas, and little sparkles.

Skizzleman stole the traits of Tropical Fish

Actually, the whole thing looks glittery. It's childish and goofy and he looks snug and content, like Ren didn't catch him staring at his reflection for a little too long while they changed in the shower house. Ren has questions (which will go unanswered) regarding what went on between Joel's boss and the skin designers in the community mere days ago.

Not that I'm one to talk. I'm going all-in on the farmer's aesthetic this time around. It just sort of happened to him. Honestly? Can't complain, dude. The flannel shirt is comfy, the jeans aren't so bad, and the whole vibe fits his familiar suspenders pretty well. He's half worried he'll overheat, so he keeps rolling the sleeves back to his elbows.

If he were to put it into words, he's playing into that vibe of all the world in chaos while he serves smiles and escapism in his pretty little garden. In fact, Ren gets up from the muck, taking out a handkerchief to wipe dirt form his hands, and walks over to join Joel by the fence. He leans against it. Joel tilts his head. He's got little panda ears.

"'Hey' yourself, Ren. Ooh, look at you working hard in the chaos game."

"Thanks, man. You're looking good on green again; nice, nice- A+ material."

Skizzleman stole the traits of Salmon

"Yeah, Grian kicked me back up since, y'know… the whole 'creeper glitch' wasn't meant to happen and I did get my proper quarry kill." Joel points two thumbs at the bubbly text across his chest. "He'd better watch his ruddy little backend, though, because I intend to hit purple before I see yellow again. This order is tall, but so am I." His eyes roam behind Ren, wandering the other side of the fence. His fingers tap together inside his hoodie pocket. "Got quite a bit of wheat there, haven't you?"

"Wheat?" He keeps his tone light and friendly, but repeats the word 'wheat' to make it undeniable what he's referring to. "Take a bit if you like; leave something if you want. It's my community garden. This, my friend, is a safe space." He glances left and right, then leans forward, dipping his voice. He even lifts one hand to catch his words, though no one seems to be around eavesdropping. "Seems to me like you're less likely to get sniped off if your would-be murderer knows you'll respawn a few blocks away to have your revenge! And lay waste to them completely where they stand!"

Joel lifts both brows, curious but flat-mouthed. "Eeeh… Not the most exciting content for you, is it? I mean… You could achieve the same thing by lurking near your base. Or plopping your bed down anytime you anticipate a fight, if you wanna be some sort of freak… Also, I'm pretty sure you can't strike your hunter back if you drop from green life to yellow? You're still yellow, right? That's a passive color."

bigbst4tz2 stole the traits of Creeper Skizzleman stole the traits of Turtle

"… Look, it's cool, okay? Spawn's cool." Ren gestures sideways, flapping the handkerchief. "I'm in my peaceful arc right now. Spawn shall be the most beautiful place to rest one's head!"

Joel looks around, skeptic impatience dancing on his lips. Spawn isn't technically a peninsula, but it stands on a raised, flat bit of land overlooking the rushing river. The wind's gusty up here, bamboo and jungle trees swishing. Ren's got his hidden chickens and pigs.

Thus far, his play session consists mostly of bartering with Scott and Skizz for the right to breed their sheep. They helped him lead the sheep back in return for the right to take two chickens, and the haughty stare in Scott's gaze warned Ren that he wouldn't hesitate to kill every animal in his underground hidey-hole, regardless of what killing so many and swapping traits that many times in a row would do to his stomach. He needs to move them. The Sushi Boys know where they are right now and that's not a good strat.

GoodTimesWithScar stole the traits of Enderman

"Peaceful, yeah," Joel says. He leans against the fencepost, cupping his cheek in one hand. Well, one panda paw. "Say… Any chance I could pull you away from your work for a couple hours, mate? Promise it'll be worth your while."

"Oh?"

"You got shovels?" Joel summons his own to his hand with a flick of the wrist. It's stone, unimpressive, but he taps it against the edge of the fence like it's made of netherite. "I'm thinking we go about digging up sand. It won't be a monopoly, but Grian always makes a grab at it, and I think yoinking it before he tries will be the best strat."

"… Seems like he'll come after you once he realizes you've got it."

"Hope he does. I want him-" Joel makes a shhhhluck! sound, gliding the shovel scoop across his own throat. "You get me? Come on; we'll make a game of it."

Ren frowns, one ear twitching like he's got a flea. He tries not to glance at the place he hid his animals, though that means jerking his eyes back to Joel as they start to drift sideways. "Well… It sounds like you might be luring me away for a bit of thievery-"

"Oh, like you've got better plans today. You and your smelly little farm, your smelly little livestock…"

So he's already aware of them. He's not trying to fake me out. Ren lifts his hands. "All right; you've convinced me. Let's have ourselves a dig, my friend." For the sake of content creation. For the sake of getting out of his own head, too… Apart from his visit to Scott and Skizz, he's pretty much been gardening all day long. He's got an inventory full of bread and a back-up chest to boot.

And I know I'm not his quarry…

[Full chapter on AO3 - Link at top]

#trafficblr #GoodTimesWithScar #Joel Smallishbeans #Renthedog #Team Rancher #Jimmy Solidarity #TangoTek #ZombieCleo #impulseSV #MumboJumbo #bigbst4tz2 #Lizzie LDShadowLady #Scott Smajor #mcyt #apparently art #traffic life smp #ridwriting #Dog's Life #fic announcement #Dog's Life art #BigB

[eluminium]

Life Series: Angel's Blessing

...or how killing Skizz seems to lock you into a Top 2 placement.

Welcome to another post where Eluminium goes insane about Skizzleman because the brainrot is consuming me.

So y'all know of the whole "Skizz and the number 3" thing? Well, a part I forgot to mention in the original post was a weird thing relating to Skizz's last deaths. Now Skizz is very good at dying early, he and Jimmy are the only two people who've never made it past session 7. In 3rd Life, he was killed by Grian. In Last Life, he was shot by Ren. And in Limited Life he sacrificed himself to TIES by having Etho kill him.

But.

In (almost) every single death he's had, he's been killed by either the winner of the game or by second place. And the other one (Scar for 3rd Life and Scott for Last Life) was also there to witness it firsthand. Every time. It's not as strong in Limited Life, but it's still there. Who was a witness to Skizz's sacrifice? Impulse. Who came second? Impulse. Martyn didn't witness it nor permakill Skizz, but you could argue that one of the kills Martyn got on Skizz pushed him towards his eventual martyrdom.

 In almost every series, the one to either permakill Skizz or watch Skizz permadie gets top 2. With no fail (so far.) Three times in a row.

Hmmm, well isn't that weird? And it's happened in every series Skizz has been in. And what are the only numbers above three? That's right. One and Two. First and Second. It's almost as if Skizz's weird curse tied to the three works as a blessing for whoever is there to kill him or watch him die. I suppose one man's curse is another man's blessing.

So uhm, petition to call this weird phenomenon "Angel's Blessing." For...obvious reasons. 

Hey I mean, could probably work it into a funny design thing. 

Just imagine Desert Duo in the cactus ring. As they throw punch after punch and speak their woes on how they don't wanna do this, two cracked and barely noticeable triangle-shaped halos (haha get it because three) are hovering over both their heads. As Scar's health starts draining, the halo fades with him, while Grian's only grows stronger, and more stable. Eventually, Grian's fist cracks right through Scar's barely visible golden headpiece, and with that, Scar has no chance. Not that he put up much resistance in the first place.

Just imagine Scott and Ren's final battle. Scott, fresh from his kill on Martyn, with his triangle halo hovering, just taking shot after shot on Ren. With every hit, Ren's halo grows weaker. However, it isn't Scott who smashes the fragile thing into pieces, instead the honor is given to a random zombie, who doesn't care what it just destroyed. When Scott stands victorious, divine lightning strikes and shatters his halo too. 

Just imagine Martyn cutting down Scott first because he knows. He's an observant guy, he's noticed the little gold barely-noticeable triangle floating over Impulse's head. A naive soul would have mistaken it for a trick of the light, but Martyn sees how it cracks as if solid when he ends Scott's life. Scott had to be first, Scott didn't have a halo this time. If Martyn himself looked up, it's quite likely he'd see his own little triangle. Strong, solid, blessed. But the one floating over the demon's head is a broken, helpless, sad little thing uselessly clinging onto hope after being so thoroughly crushed. 

Martyn's brain takes him back for a second. Back to the very first session of this damned death game. Back to that cave, to the rush of the Boogeyman curse, and back to Skizz. As Skizz called him up to give him a sweet compliment, he readied his blade. But all he saw was this poor wingless angel, an angel who had his two snow-white wings hacked off by two boogies barely ten minutes in. All that remained was his halo, and if Martyn wanted to kill Skizz, he would have had to break it...and he couldn't bring himself to do it. It was almost too pathetic. He let Skizz live, let him keep his last piece. And that would be a piece kept until Etho broke it on Skizz's behalf since Skizz never got Boogey killed again.

He couldn't go through with the backstabbing then. It's different now. Much blood-drenched time has passed since.

Now Martyn brings down his axe and lava on his ally, a betrayal he refrained from when this series started. He's numb by now.

When lightning strikes where Scott once stood, he looks over to a shocked Impulse. An Impulse with no armor, an Impulse who won't be able to react in time. Just as helpless and vulnerable as Skizz in that cave. The halo still sits right over the demonic horns, and to kill Impulse, he'll have to break it.

But Martyn is a different man now. Those acts of mercy are long gone. Now, he feels nothing as he mercilessly chases Impulse down and brings his axe through the halo that once made him hesitate. Wrathful, hungry, animalistic.

It's what these worlds do to them. It's what they do to them.

An Angel's Blessing can't guarantee victory. But it can guarantee something better than third. 

And well. For once, the blessing went to Impulse. About time, considering Impulse has watched Skizz permadie every single time. 

Isn't the Life series just full of fun patterns to discover?

btw Skizz said on the podcast today that he has a habit of sometimes kissing Impulse on the cheek when they're reunited. Just a fun fact to cheer you up <3

#skizzleman #dose of skizz #limited life spoilers #life series spoilers #CAN YOU SEE IM GOING A BIT INSANE #CAN YOU SEE I'M PERHAPS LOSING SOME MARBLES #I #SKIZZ JUST MAKES ME INSANE OKAY #HIS PATTERNS ARE SO WEIRD #AND SO SPECIFIC #IS THIS THE FIRST INSTENCE OF A BLESSING IN THE LIFE SERIES???? #IF IT IS...IT MAKES SENSE IT'S SKIZZ #SAINT SKIZZ THE MARTYR HIMSELF #3rd life #3lsmp #last life #llsmp #limited life #limlsmp #traffic series #life series #my writing #grian #goodtimeswithscar #scott smajor #renthedog #impulsesv #inthelittlewood #just mentioning all the little guys who got their halo scenario or whatever IHJEOGIEHOGS #trafficblr

[theminecraftbee]

Hi. 3rd life looks super interesting, but I don't know where to start. Do you have any recommendations on how to watch it?

certainly! the good news is, compared to a lot of mcyt, third life is fairly short! the original 3rd life is only eight episodes by most povs, with last life being eight or nine, double life normally only being six-ish, and limited life being about eight, meaning that if you wanted to watch one player's playthrough of every season, that's still only thirty episodes. that's like... getting into one network tv show before the netflix model took over!

so, i guess my advice is just to pick someone's pov and watch it!

the players who have been in every season are grian, inthelittlewood, smajor1995, goodtimeswithscar, smallishbeans, zombiecleo, bdoubleo100, bigbst4tz2, impulsesv, tangotek, ethoslab, and solidarity. skizzleman was in every season but double life, pearlescentmoon was in every season but third life, rendog was in every season but limited life, and mumbo jumbo and ldshadowlady were only in last life.

if instead of watching one guy as a single continuity, you want to watch the "best" pov for each season, that's going to be subjective. i'd say grian or inthelittlewood for 3rd life, zombiecleo or smajor for last life, zombiecleo or pearlescentmoon for double life, and inthelittlewood or zombiecleo for limited life... but as you can tell, i have a bias towards a very specific player, haha. in reality, you can probably choose whatever pov you want and have a good time, and other fans will have a different opinion about the best povs! and then, if after you watch that pov, you have questions about what other players are doing elsewhere on the map, you can go watch that guy's pov! that's how i normally approach it, at least.

each series mostly stands alone; while the fans like making connections between series, and there are running bits of continuity, you could easily, say, decide the gimmick of double life appeals to you, but you aren't interested in watching any of the series that came before it, and you'd probably end up fine. many new fans join on when the new series starts! if you are interested, in fact, the players have been hinting at the next one starting sometime soon, although we don't have any kind of date yet. when that starts, starting with episode one of whatever that one ends up being called is as good a starting point as any!

finally, you may have noticed some of the players have videos titled stuff like "3rd life: the movie" on their channel. these are, as far as i'm aware, exactly the same as the contents for their series, just edited together as one big long video instead of a series of videos. the one exception to this is bdoubleo100, who was in limited life but didn't put out episodes as it aired, instead releasing all of his footage only recently as one long video. it's up to you whether you prefer to watch the series as a series of episodes or as a long episode, if you choose one of the povs who put out videos like that!

so yeah! there is my list of advice for getting into the life series. hopefully this is helpful and not just a block of text!

#answered

[xximnotafckingprincessxx]

Limited Life – Episode 6′s Ending Timers

People did seem to appreciate this last week, so I thought that I’d keep it up — here are the current standings in the Limited Life series! I’ll update this post as more people post their perspectives, and will add notes on how the standings have changed once all perspectives* have been posted, but as of right now, based on the time that I could see in the last frame that the timer is visible, we have:

Smajor1995 (+2 places) – 09:52:08

ImpulseSV (+2 places) – 08:21:20

InTheLittleWood (+8 places) – 07:56:36

ZombieCleo (+2 places) – 07:21:11

PearlescentMoon (+4 places) – 06:52:37

Bigbst4tz2 (-1 place) – 06:51:59

Tango (-6 places) – 06:51:26

Grian (same place!) – 06:22:25

*Etho is estimated to be here on the Limited Life wiki

GoodTimeWithScar (+2 places) – 04:58:21

Smallishbeans (-4 places) – 04:53:35

Skizzleman (+1 places) – 04:22:42

Solidarity (-3 places) – 03:34:26

*Importantly, just like last week, Bdouble0100 is not included on this list. In addition to that, though, Etho was unable to post his perspective for this week, as he had some audio issues with his recording. As a result, I don’t know what his specific timer reads after this session, but, for the sake of being able to still note how the standings have changed from Episode 5 to Episode 6, I have still included Etho on the list where he is estimated to be, by the Limited Life wiki. In other words, this list won’t perfectly reflect the actual standings until we know the exact times of all players, but hopefully that can be fixed next week!

#limited life spoilers #limited life smp #limited life #trafficblr #traffic smp #spoilers

[weirdeggii]

It’s SKIZZLEMAN WEEK!

Thanks to @skizzlemanweek for the prompts!

Prompt 1: Silent/Shout

Set in a universe that I don’t have a name for yet!

-

Skizz held out his torch, shining the light on the deepslate walls around him. Every tunnel looked the same in this place, and his torch did next to nothing to light up the area.

He’d been in this cave for nearly two hours, and after fleeing from a particularly angry hoard of spiders, he’s left with one less chest plate than he had before, and with no clue which direction leads to the surface.

“This is ridiculous,” he grumbled. “I’ve never gotten so turned around in a cave before.”

He opened his backpack and glanced inside. So far, he’s gathered twelve pieces of iron ore, eight lapis lazuli, and four string - from the angry spiders.

Skizz thought that there would be more ores the deeper he mined, but apparently that isn’t the case. Apparently, the only thing you get this deep in caves, is lost and confused.

That, or Skizz is just insanely unlucky.

The light passed over something odd up ahead. A strange blue substance was caked all over the floor and walls of a crevice in the back corner of the cave. He raised a brow - that was something he hadn’t seen before.

The blue substance looked like it got thicker and more prominent deeper into the crevice, almost as if it was growing from somewhere within.

Bones creaked to his left, and Skizz quickly whipped around, linking eyes with a skeleton.

Don’t sneak up on a guy like that! He thought, frantically pulling out his shield as the skelly aimed his bow, blocking the arrow at the last second.

He whipped out his sword, lunging forward and landing a hit on the skelly before quickly pulling up his shield again.

Skizz managed to avoid the skeleton’s arrow the second time, but when he lunged to hit it again, his foot slipped into a crack he hadn’t noticed, and he stumbled.

“Shit,” he spat as he tried to tug his foot from the crack. The skeleton aimed its bow again, and Skizz scrambled to pull out his shield again, but it was too late.

The skeleton managed to fire an arrow faster than Skizz could pull his foot from the hole, and he took a good hit to the shoulder. Skizz shouted out as burning pain burst from his shoulder, seeming to radiate all down his left arm.

His shout reverberated around the walls of the cave, and something rumbled off in the distance.

The adrenaline of being shot flooded his veins, and with a burst of strength, he managed to free himself from the crack and swipe his sword at the skeleton, making it drop its bow.

With the skeleton disarmed, Skizz lunged again, ignoring the throb of pain from both his shoulder and his foot, landing one final hit and watching the skeleton crumble to the ground.

He panted as he stood over the body of the skeleton, still pointing his sword as though he expected it to stand up again.

At this point, his mind finally caught up to him, and he turned his attention to the arrow still stuck in his shoulder.

Touching the area around the wound only served to make it hurt worse. After further inspection, the arrow was only stuck about an inch through his shoulder, not all the way through.

“Okay Skizz, what can you do?” He muttered. He had dropped his flashlight and bag during the fight and went back to pick them up, keeping his weight off his right leg.

Kneeling on the ground and holding his flashlight with his teeth, Skizz shuffled through the bag with his good arm, looking for anything he could use for first aid.

His eyes wandered to the four string from earlier. If he tore off part of his shirt, he could probably use the string to fasten a makeshift bandage.

Maybe it hadn’t been the smartest idea to go caving in a button-up shirt, suit vest and tie, but at least it gave him plenty of extra fabric to use.

The vest and tie were in pretty good shape, but the white shirt was already ruined by the blood running down his shoulder.

Gripping part of the sleeve in this good hand and taking the other part in his teeth, Skizz ripped off the entire sleeve at the shoulder, which also gave him a clear view of where the arrow was stuck in his skin.

Just as he thought - not deep enough to be life-threatening, but just deep enough to be concerning.

After making sure he had all his medical supplies ready - ratty string and tattered cloth - Skizz gripped the shaft of the arrow.

He breathed in, slow, counting to four -

And ripped the arrow out.

A scream tore itself out of him, the sound of his broken voice echoing around the dark cavern.

A rumbling started up again from deeper in the cave, and this time, it did not go unnoticed.

Skizz chose to ignore the sound for now, instead dealing with the more pressing issue of his arm bleeding everywhere. He quickly pushed the cloth against the wound, holding it in place with his chin as he wrapped the string around it.

Once the cloth was secure, he shakily tied the string together, pulling the knot tight with his teeth.

He spared a second to breathe a pained sigh of relief, then gathered up his stuff and swung his bag over his uninjured shoulder.

Using his sword to support himself, Skizz stood up and looked in the direction of the rumbling.

It was coming from the crevice with the blue substance.

And now that he wasn’t blinded by pain, Skizz noticed that he was instead blinded by something else.

A dark fog had creeped into the cave, lurking at the edges of his vision and in areas where the dim light of his flashlight couldn’t reach.

Against his better judgement, Skizz slowly creeped over towards the crack, feeling a quiver of nerves in his gut.

Something weird is going on here, and that rumbling must have something to do with it.

#skizzleman #hermitcraft #skizz week 1 #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #this continues in tomorrows prompt! #skizzweek1

[unnamed-atlas]

Consistently amazed by Skizzleman's rise to popularity in the mcyt fandom over the last three years because of the life series considering the fact that several months before the first life series he got caught following a bunch of far right news sources

I'd like to immediately say that this is not me trying to cancel him or dredge up three year old drama I literally just find this particular case of internet drama and it's fallout (or lack there of) incredibly fucking interesting. Bc I assume most newer fans don't even know this happened, and I'd be completely unsurprised if most people who were there don't even remember it. Bc everything went down in the span of like 12 hours and there was effectively no fallout for it despite a complete lack of closure.

So, someone was looking through his following and spotted several far right channels, such as PragerU and Tim Pool. They posted something about it in the morning, not really a callout, just a 'hey man what's up with that?' type of post. Which was really the vibe the whole time, no one really was coming at it from an aggressive stand point, everyone was just kind of like 'hey dude why are you following these people and can you please confirm that your beliefs do not align with theirs?' Bc y’know the mcyt fandom space is full of queer people and neurodivergent people who would prefer to know their creators aren't bigoted.

And so people started asking him about it on twt and he did not respond. Instead he privated his following on every website. He never responded publicly.

In the mid afternoon another one of his followers made a post claiming they had spoken to him privately in DMs. They showed no screenshots but essentially claimed that he had said that he'd been following the accounts because he liked to have varied news sources and hadn't realized quite how extreme some of those channels reputations were. And that he did not want to talk about his politics publicly, but that he was not a bigot. That was it. And everyone just kind of accepted it. And stopped talking about it.

Half a day of confusion and it was over never to be discussed again despite the fact that none of the claims about his private response were ever substantiated and a public response never came.

And then 3rd Life started a few months later and he started growing in popularity. His followings were still private at this time because of this drama. Looking on his YouTube, it seems like they still are to this day.

I remember making a post at the time of 3rd Life about how wild it was that he was suddenly everywhere despite this whole occurrence. I remember getting a response from someone essentially saying, 'yeah that was weird but I think everyone just kind of decided since it was the only thing he'd ever done wrong it was probably fine and put him on thin ice' which. Yeah. Fair. That's kind of the whole thing about this event that sticks out to me. Everyone was so incredibly ready to just be like completely reasonable, if not even a little too lenient, about this whole situation.

There wasn't any harassment, there was no pressure for a public response after the one person claimed to have talked to him in private. Everyone just dropped it. The people who were offput enough by it to not want to interact with his content did just that, stopped interacting and moved on, never to bring this whole mess up again. And everyone else just kind of put him on thin-ice and moved on, again, never bringing it up again, and, I assume, eventually forgiving and forgetting when nothing like this ever came up again.

I assume it has to do with the size of his audience at the time, the fact that really the only eyes on him that weren't from his own personal following seemed to be Team ZIT fans. Because a fiasco like this with a youtuber of a bigger size would've been much messier and drawn on for much longer and probably would've ended with a lot more fallout. I wonder sometimes if this had come to light later, after the first few life series, when he had amassed a larger audience and a larger ensemble of eyes on him from adjacent creators' audiences, if he might've had a much worse experience, and would've experienced a larger fallout, and if this event would've been something that stuck more in the conscience of the fandom.

Idk something about this situation has always just fascinated me. I think about it everytime I see him on my dash, which has been increasingly often despite the fact that I've had his tag blocked since this event. Something about the speed at which things happened, the completely lack of response other than the overtly strange privating of who he follows which he has never reversed, the completely unsubstantiated claims of a private response taken as fact, the complete lack of staying power this fiasco had in the fandom space. It's just wild and I think it's a really interesting look at the way different communities handle situations like this.

#anyways it goes without saying that obviously this is not me trying to get people to harrass Skizz about this 3 years later #don't fucking do that obviously #i legitimately don't even care about the ethics of it all after all this time he's fine #but i find this whole situation so incredibly fascinating. such an interesting case study in group dynamics surrounding internet drama #a strange little occurance highlighting the inconsistencies in the ways audience attempt to hold online creator's accountable #it's about the social dynamics in fandom between fan and creator not the drama itself lol #long post