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zhukzucraft · 22 days

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Wild Life - Chapter 2

A fan-made Life SMP session project by Zhuk and Schmomo

>Chapter 1< or >Read it on Ao3<

“So you’re breaking up with us,” Martyn said, matter of factly.

“Is this supposed to be shocking?” Cleo asked, “You leaving to go be with Etho, instead?” She laughed a little, cycling through her inventory for her iron pick.

“It’s nothing personal!” Bdubs insisted, quickly, “I just feel bad for the guy, you know?”

“He is washed up,” Grian agreed, his voice carrying from up high where he was building up their tower of cobble.

“Exactly. Wait, no! No, he’s not!” Bdubs huffed, “But it was harsh how we all ditched him.”

Yesterday had been a mad dash for resources, like all first days in the Life games tended to be. Bdubs’ plan for starting the Life game challenge had remained the same as always: stick to Etho. But that hadn’t really played out the way he wanted it to. When he’d circled up with his group near the exposed iron vein on the side of the mountain, everyone had realized at the same time an important fact: He, Impulse, Cleo and Skizz were all dogs.

Etho was not.

“He’s a cat, Bdubs,” Martyn said, his tail swishing about in warning behind him, “A filthy feline, if you will.”

“Shouldn’t we be building bridges?” Bdubs tried, his own short tail quite flat against his body.

“No, we’re building a tower,” Grian called from above.

Cleo snorted, trying to cover her smile with her free hand.

“The man is lost without me,” Bdubs continued, “And I really just want to check on him, is all. Don’t you trust me?”

“Not at all,” Cleo said with a smile, “But go on then, find your cat boyfriend if it’ll calm your anxious heart.”

Bdubs rolled his eyes, turning away and padding to the edge of their platform. After the iron had run dry, Skizz and Impulse had ventured further up the mountains. Bdubs knew his history with fall damage well enough to stick to more solid ground. Cleo had decided to join up with Martyn and Grian who were discussing some grandiose plan to take control of the entire lake. He had followed them without a second thought.

Now, he stared out at the vast expanse of water before him, “You know, we really should build a bridge–”

“No bridges!” Grian shouted, “That’s the whole point!”

Bdubs threw his hands up in the air, defeated with his teammates–former teammates? It was unclear at this point. Bdubs was about 65% certain he would come back to them. Maybe less so now that this base Grian and Martyn were insisting on would prevent him from any kind of sustainable horse travel.

He pinched his nose and jumped into the water, shuddering as the cold temperature hit him. He pushed through, diving down past the many salmon and cod to head to shore. By the end he was doggy paddling, which was fitting he supposed. When he reached the shore line he shook himself out, his ears floppy atop his head and smacking him ever so lightly.

His comms buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out.

Solidarity has made the advancement [Diamonds!] Smallishbeans > ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Smallishbeans > HE’S THE FIRST ONE?????? Smajor1995 > just wait for the swimming in lava message to appear soon enough Skizzleman > i don’t have anything to contribute but as another S name i felt the need to say something GoodTimeWithScar > same! Grian > Your username starts with G, scar GoodTimeWithScar > are we starting our own train now, G? Solidarity > DOES ANYONE HAVE FOOD THEY CAN THROW DOWN MY HOLE?

“Poor fella,” Bdubs sighed out without even a hint of pity. He put his communicator away. He glanced around, seeing the remnants of other players from the falling leaves and missing dark oak trunks. He decided to keep to the edge of the forest, just in case. After a few hundred blocks, the dark oak gave way to a plains biome and–

“HORSE!” Bdubs shouted, sprinting over to the magnificent herd of beasts. There were six of them, all deep browns and blacks. Some were even spotted with white. “What beauties,” he praised as he petted one of the wild mares, who shook her mane out at him. He hauled himself onto her back, only to be bucked off. He was no stranger to the process, however, and kept at it, taming the entire herd by the time the sun was shining directly above him.

“Now I just need a saddle,” Bdubs said aloud, before frowning. Right. He needed a saddle. What were the odds he’d stumble upon a dungeon anytime soon? He wondered if they were using the leather recipe in this game. That would be oh-so-fortuitous.

He hadn’t been paying attention, and the horse he was seated upon had wandered further into the plains, toward the great big snowy mountain they’d all pillaged for iron yesterday. He wondered if Skizz and Impulse were still up there. Why were all his friends moving into such horse-hostile environments? Bunch of scum, the lot of em.

The land opened up in front of him and he let out a surprised shout of terror. He quickly jumped off the horse, only to land precariously at the edge of the gaping ravine.

That was a close one, Bdubs thought to himself, imagine being the first to die. And to fall damage too.

He scurried backwards, giving himself a few blocks of distance. Sheepishly he looked around to see if anyone had seen him shrieking. Luckily, no one was around.

Where the heck was everyone? Had no one decided to settle in these plains? He frowned, turning all the way around before getting himself dizzy. How was he supposed to find Etho with everyone hiding? Everyone was still green for void’s sake! There was no need to be so un-neighborly yet.

“Cowards! All of ya!” he shouted out to no one in particular, cupping his hands around his mouth to make sure his important message carried.

“Is someone out there!?”

Bdubs startled, looking around for the owner of the voice.

“Hello!?”

He narrowed his eyes, following the voice several blocks to the right. He stopped right before the ground gave way to another hole.

“OH THANK THE VOID!”

All the way down below, surrounded by dripstone, was Jimmy. In full diamond armor.

“BDUBS YOU HAVE TO HELP ME!” Jimmy shouted, “I'VE GOT HALF A HEART AND NOTHING TO MY NAME!”

“I don’t know about that,” Bdubs called back, sitting down on the edge of the hole, “You’re covered in diamonds.”

“I’ve got no wood, no tools and no food,” Jimmy lamented, “Please, do you have any food to spare?”

“How’d you manage this?” Bdubs asked, his ears perking up.

“There was some mild panicking when I dug into lava,” Jimmy said, “Very mild. I may have thrown half my inventory into it. These are minor details. Anyway, can you spare a mutton? I’d take it raw at this point.”

Bdubs cringed, “You’re lucky Scott didn’t hear that. He’d never let you live it down.”

“Scott’s dead to me!” Jimmy shouted back, “He and Joel and Etho found me just to laugh! The nerve!”

“Etho?” Bdubs blinked, honing in on his mission with laser focus, “You know where he went?”

“You get me outta this jam, I’ll take you straight to him, I swear on my half of a heart.”

“And one of your diamond pieces,” Bdubs added, standing back up.

“You’d take the shirt off my back in my most trying time?”

“If it’s made of diamonds? Of course!” Bdubs replied, rummaging through his inventory, “After all, my hand might slip and grab my lava bucket instead.”

“ALRIGHT!” Jimmy shouted, “Just please! I can’t live down being yellow first again.”

Bdubs chuckled, taking mercy and flooding the hole. Jimmy quickly swam up, clawing his way onto solid ground and giving himself a firm shake to dry himself off. His long fluffy golden tail rained water droplets everywhere.

“Ah, a fellow dog of culture, I see,” Bdubs noted.

Jimmy cracked a smile, “Once a big dog, always a big dog. Woof, woof.” He picked himself up, taking off his diamond boots and handing them over. “Now please, some meat would be nice.”

“Oh I don't have any food on me,” Bdubs replied casually, slipping the armor on. “Should have probably grabbed some before leaving my crew, now that I think about it.”

Jimmy let out an anguished cry, hands shooting out to take hold of Bdubs shoulders. He dug into the iron armor there, “Are you KIDDING ME?” he shouted, close to tears, “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through!? Wave after wave after wave of creepers and zombies hounded me down there. Half a heart, Bdubs! I could trip and it’d be the end of me.”

“I’ve got a bed if you want to set your spawn here,” Bdubs offered with a bright cheery smile. Jimmy screamed out in aggravation. Bdubs patted his shoulder.

“Oh, that explains it.”

Jimmy and Bdubs turned at the sound of a third voice, and emerging from one of the rolling hills of this biome was Mumbo Jumbo of all people.

“Mumbo!” Bdubs exclaimed, giving a friendly wave. “And on top of a mound!”

“Hmm? Oh! Yes! Once a mounder, always a mounder,” Mumbo replied with a grin, carefully hopping down the blocks to make it to their sides. His skin black and white tail shot out for balance. “Although, I’ve graduated to new heights this go-around. You could say I’m a mountaineer, now.”

“Well, ain’t that nice,” Bdubs complimented, “Are Skizz and Impulse with ya then?”

“Oh yes!” Mumbo assured, “BigB too.”

“Lovely catching up,” Jimmy interrupted, eye twitching, “But we have pressing matters at hand! Mumbo, do you have any food on you, bud?

“Hmm? Oh. Oh right, food. That would have been a good idea, wouldn’t it have been.” Mumbo realized aloud, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

“YOU PEOPLE ARE IMPOSSIBLE!” Jimmy screamed.

Bdubs laughed, patting Jimmy’s shoulder and spreading his other arm out over the horizon, “Look, we’re in a plains biome, I’m sure we can find ya something to munch on.”

“All the animals are gone already!” Jimmy snapped, “This is the life series not Hermitcraft!”

“There’s plenty of horses,” Mumbo pointed out, unhelpfully.

“I CAN’T EAT A HORSE.”

“Not hungry enough, eh?” Mumbo replied.

Jimmy paused mid scream to laugh, “Alright, that’s a good one.” He then returned to screaming, “I’ve got two ticks left in my hunger bar before I starve to death. And that’s gonna be on both your consciences now, I hope you know.”

“I’m sure I can convince Etho to part with some snacks when I find him,” Bdubs assured.

“Isn’t Etho a cat, though? At least, that’s what Impulse told me,” Mumbo said, “Why are you looking for him?”

“Because I’m me, Mumbo, that’s why,” Bdubs snapped.

“Right,” Mumbo said, “Should have expected that. Anyway, if you’ll excuse me I need to collect some redstone down in that ravine. No reason, of course.”

“Of course,” Bdubs played along. He waved as Mumbo pushed past them, black and white spotted tail wagging behind him. He turned back to Jimmy, “Now which way did Etho go?”

Jimmy sighed, “He went further up, toward Scar’s place, I think. Have you been there yet? Last I saw him he was making some sort of shanty on the lake edge.”

“And that’s where we shall go,” Bdubs announced.

“I can’t sprint,” Jimmy said, looping an arm around Bdubs’ as a preventative measure. “Don’t you dare leave me behind.”

Bdubs laughed, but acquiesced. Slowing his pace down as they walked through the peaceful meadows. It was strange to see so few mobs and people. Eerie, really. But eventually from the fog appeared a new structure at the lake's edge. A fishing hut made of oak and spruce, already with a nice pier jutting into the water.

Scar came into view first, arms waving about as he spoke to three other players. Even before he rendered, Bdubs could tell the tallest silhouette to be Etho, most likely standing beside Joel and Scott based on Jimmy’s previous recollection.

“ETHO!” Bdubs shouted, abandoning Jimmy completely to sprint over to him.

Etho’s head shot up, and there was a soft crinkle around his eyes as they lit up in recognition. “Oh snappers, it’s a Bdubs!” he exclaimed, lifting his hand to wave at him.

“Why, hello there, Bdubs,” Scar intercepted, coming in between them before Bdubs could go in for the hug, “Welcome to my dock.”

“Right,” Bdubs nodded. “It’s a nice dock.”

“Thanks, I made it myself. Took all my wood,” Scar continued proudly, his gray and black tail swishing dangerously behind him.

“That’s not even true,” another voice snapped, and Bdubs quickly saw Lizzie coming into view. She was munching on a fish, her small ears folded close to her head, “I made the dock. You only made the shanty.”

“Details,” Scar waved off with his ever present smile.

“Food!” Bdubs shouted, pointing at the half eaten cod in Lizzie’s hand, “Jimmy needs some! Lizzie can you spare a fish for the starving man behind me?”

“Oh, Bdubs,” Joel groaned, his striped tail drooping in disappointment, “You actually helped him?”

“He was supposed to stay in the hole.” Scott clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

“Dogs, amiright?” Joel offered cheekily. Bdubs couldn’t help but let out a petulant little huff at that.

By that point Jimmy had finally staggered over to them, doubling over to rest his hands on his knees. “One tick! One tick left and I die before your callous eyes!”

“I’ve got food, Jimmy,” Lizzie assured, digging through her inventory, “But you’ll have to swear your undying loyalty to me first.”

“FINE!” Jimmy agreed.

“See, this is how you get into so much trouble, Jimmy,” Scott commented, “You agree too quickly to things.”

“The man’s on death’s door, Scott. You can’t blame him,” Scar defended, even as he took out his own cooked cod to eat in front of him.

“To seal the deal I shall give you this!” Lizzie announced, handing over a bone.

“Am I joke to you?” Jimmy growled, holding the bone, “You expect me to eat this? Just because I’m a dog? Har, har, har, everybody.” He pretended to give the bone a bite, only for his jaw to snap right through it. He blinked, surprised, nostrils flaring and bringing the bone to his mouth to properly chew on it.

And then he ate it completely.

“Oh,” Lizzie said, dumbfounded.

Joel started to laugh, “Did he seriously just–”

“There’s a terrible bone joke just waiting to be made here,” Scott snickered, politely covering his smile with his hand.

Jimmy’s face colored, “Shut up! Just hold on a second,”

“Did it work?” Bdubs asked, intrigued. His floppy ears did their best to perk up.

“It…worked,” Jimmy confirmed, eyes widening

“So I can punch you now? Thank void I’ve been having to hold back this whole time–” Joel started, pushing his way forward and winding his arm back.

Jimmy screeched, high pitched. Etho’s arm shot out to grab Joel by the scruff of his shirt while the poor golden retriever quickly ran behind Bdubs. “It didn’t FILL me up! I’m not anywhere close to healed yet. Get away from me, Joel!”

Lizzie stared at one of her bones, appraising it. Carefully, she raised it to her mouth and gave it an experimental gnaw. She grimaced.

“Let me try it,” Bdubs pawed at the bone, curiosity having gotten the best of him yet again. He immediately managed to snap it in half with his teeth, despite missing several. His eyes widened, “Huh. It’s not half bad!”

“This must be a dog thing,” Lizzie murmured, putting a finger to her chin, “I mean you can feed bones to wild wolves so it sort of makes sense.”

“Wait a tick,” Jimmy said, straightening up, “Wouldn’t that…Wouldn’t that mean…” He let his voice fade off as he rifled through his inventory to pull out a piece of rotten flesh.

“Oh that is vile, Jimmy!” Joel snapped.

Jimmy took a bite. His eyes widened. “NO WAY! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”

Bdubs tilted his head to the side. Jimmy handed him another piece of the zombie flesh and he took a brave bite. An explosion of flavors hit his tongue all at once. Savory rich barbecue with just a hint of heat at the edges. He could feel himself salivating for more as he gobbled up the supposed rancid meat. “Oh my! This is gourmet!”

“Are you telling me, I’ve been panicking for the past few hours when I could have eaten any of the 40 pieces of rotten flesh in my inventory!?” Jimmy cried, sinking down to his knees.

“This is amazing,” Joel snickered, “I’m glad you dragged us out here, Scott.”

“I’m full of great ideas,” Scott preened, flicking his hair back to emphasize the point. His blue gray tail swished behind him for added effect.

“Anyway,” Etho said, finally making his way to stand by his old friend, “Fancy seeing you here, Bdubs.”

“Etho!” Bdubs shouted, remembering the whole point of the day.

“Shouldn’t you be with your pack?” Etho faux sniffled, turning his head to the side.

“I came to check on you!” Bdubs insisted, pushing toward him. “Sure, I was led astray momentarily, but here I am in the end! That’s got to count for something, right?”

“I’m not letting more people move in with me,” Joel growled, putting his foot down.

Etho patted Joels’ shoulder, lifting his other hand to scratch the back of his own neck, “Ya see, Bdubs, after that whole debacle, I kinda joined my own alliance. A Fe-liance.”

“Oh.” Bdubs took a step back, wounded. “Oh, I see.”

“Aww man, Joel,” Etho caved immediately, turning to the tabby cat, “Can’t we keep him?”

“Absolutely not.”

“But look at him. How could you say no to that face?”

“Easily,” Joel said. Scott laughed.

“Gentlemen,” Scar clapped, grabbing everyone's attention once more. Lizzie made a loud ahem, her tail lashing out in warning. Scar quickly amended, “And Lady. Although this has been quite the joyous reunion, I do believe you three came here for business?”

“We came for information, actually,” Scott cut in, taking a step forward, “From Lizzie, really. I hear you’ve got quite the advantage in this game, this time around.”

Lizzie blinked owlishly, “Whatever do you mean?”

“Oh, she’s good,” Bdubs whispered to Jimmy and Etho, who were standing closest to him.

“That’s the same look you pull half the time,” Etho huffed, crossing his arms.

“Game recognizes game,” Bdubs nodded. “Did I say that right? Gem taught me that one.”

“Joel told me everything,” Scott said bluntly. Joel’s ears pinned back, betrayed.

Lizzie scowled, turning to her husband, “Joel! You had one job!”

“I didn’t know it was a secret!” Joel snapped, tabby tail lashing behind him.

“Of course it was a secret!” Lizzie huffed. She crossed her arms, glaring up at Scott. “Well, you already know, then. No fall damage.”

“No fall damage?” Etho repeated, eyes widening a fraction.

“At all?” Bdubs added. “Well, wouldn’t that be nifty.”

“Interesting,” Scott continued tapping his chin, “What else do you know?”

Lizzie glowered, “Maybe that’s all I know.”

“Oh, come on now,” Scott started, his tone lilting as he bent forward to get closer to Lizzie’s face, “You expect me to believe the great LDShadowlady spent all of her imperial days as a cat and learned only one thing?”

“Oh, Scott,” Lizzie said, turning her head shyly to the side, “You’re gonna make me blush.”

Joel visibly scowled.

“Anybody got blocks?” Etho asked, “I gotta try this no fall damage thing.”

“Oh, it’s amazing Etho,” Joel egged on, eager to latch onto any distraction from his wife’s annoyance at him, “I went all the way to the height limit. You saw!”

“I did see,” Etho agreed with a light laugh.

“Lizzie’s got cobble in her chest,” Jimmy pointed out, uncrouching from the chest he’d been rifling through..

Lizzie whirled around at him, “Jimmy! I saved your life and you’re going through my things?”

Etho grabbed two stacks easily, turning towards Bdubs, “What do you say, wanna give it a shot with me?”

Bdubs reddened, but he took the offered stack, “Oh, well, when you ask so nicely how could I possibly refuse?” Then he pocketed the stack and put his hands on his hips, “Are you CRAZY? I’m no cat! You think me a FOOL?”

Etho cackled, “Just keeping you on your toes, is all.” He wiped at his eye, and hopped up onto a block, “I’m still gonna check it out for myself, though.”

Bdubs watched with growing wariness as Etho ascended upwards. He could hear the bickering around him start to die down as all eyes veered toward the white cat in the sky.

“You know, this has me thinking,” Scar started, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “We could be a whole traveling circus. Think of all the trapeze arts! No safety nets. It’d be spectacular. People would pay a fortune to see it. And there would be absolutely no clowns.”

“Shh,” Joel shushed, “He’s gonna jump. Jump into my arms Etho!!” he extended out his hands, only to be nudged in the side by both Scott and Lizzie adding up to one solid tick of damage against him.

Etho did jump and, without a drop of water, landed on his feet before them. His tail pointed straight out for balance and his own eyes were wide like even he couldn’t believe it. Then he turned toward his audience and asked, “Did that make you jump?”

“Oh, BROTHER,” Bdubs lamented, rolling his eyes. Hopefully, his lambasting would cover up the jealousy and admiration festering just underneath the surface.

“I didn’t go that far up,” Etho admitted sheepishly after a moment, stepping away from his stack, “But you know what, Bdubs? I bet you could water bucket clutch from that height.”

“No way,” Bdubs said.

“Perhaps we should change the saying from scaredy cat to scaredy dog,” Joel goaded.

“Good one,” Scott replied flatly.

“It was NOT,” Jimmy snapped, “Don’t listen to them Bdubs! You don’t need to prove nothin’.”

“Of course I’m not doing something that stupid,” Bdubs assured.

“I’ll give you this saddle,” Etho offered.

“Alright,” Bdubs sighed, pulling out the stack of cobblestone and starting to hop up into the sky. He ignored Jimmy’s squawking and Joel’s cackling, instead focusing on not slipping off his precarious tower. As he reached the halfway point he realized very quickly how stupid he was being. “Committing to the bit never did me wrong before,” he murmured to himself. He blinked and then snapped aloud, “Except for every time it did! What the heck am I doing up here!?”

He stared down at his audience and pursed his lips. He couldn’t mine down to them now. He’d never live it down. He’d bring great shame not only to himself but to all of dogkind. Plus, he really did want a saddle.

“You’re a professional, Bdubs,” he reminded himself, shaking off his nerves and squaring his shoulders. He pulled out his bucket of water, counted to three, then counted to three again, and then finally psyched himself out enough to just jump at the number two.

BDoubleO100 fell from a high place. ImpulseSV > OH NO! IntheLittleWood > First Blood TangoTek > Jimmy you can breathe now! ZombieCleo > I let you out of my sight for FIVE MINUTES

Bdubs opened his eyes at spawn and let out a frustrated scream. He stomped around trying to let the anger out. Oh, he was going to murder Etho, his eternal alliance be damned. He started hoofing it to the otherside of the lake, lamenting his lack of horse. His lack of anything. Especially with the sun already starting to set. It wouldn’t be long until night befell them.

“Bdubs! Over here!” he heard Jimmy shout. He turned his head to see that both Jimmy and Lizzie were running toward him, meeting him about halfway.

“We grabbed your stuff,” Jimmy said quickly as he started chucking items out of his pockets and onto the ground.

“I gave Etho quite the tongue lashing too,” Lizzie assured, “Put the fear of the void in ‘im for messing with my dogs like that.”

“Your dogs?” Jimmy questioned.

“I gave you each a bone, didn’t I?” Lizzie reminded him.

“I’ve got a bone to pick with a certain someone,” Bdubs interrupted, pushing past them after accounting for his relatively small amount of things. He sprinted the rest of the way and in no time he found exactly who he was looking for.

“ETHO, WHAT THE HECK!” Bdubs shouted, glaring as the white cat seemed to curl in on himself nervously. His white ears pinned so close to his head they became lost in his unruly hair.

“I swear I was gonna put down some water as a safety last minute,” Etho muttered, not looking him in the eye. He rummaged through his inventory and pulled out a horse saddle, “You still want the saddle?”

“I don’t want your BLOOD SADDLE!” Bdubs bellowed, stomping his foot for added effect. “I want my life back!”

“Uh,” Etho started, glancing over to his alliance for help.

Joel stepped in easily enough, “Sorry, Bdubs, we don’t speak dog.” He grabbed hold of Etho’s arm, pulling him away, “Etho! Scott! Uh, we should go work on the base! That isn’t here!”

“Right,” Etho agreed as he allowed himself to be dragged, “We’ve got a tree to build.”

“You’re even building trees without me, now?” Bdubs called out, “I hate you!”

“Quite the tragic break up we’re witnessing, huh boys,” Lizzie commented, shaking her head solemnly where she stood between Jimmy and Scar.

“What, you and Joel?” Scar blinked.

“What? No! Bdubs and Etho!” Lizzie snapped.

“But you’re sticking with me right? Not following your husband out there? I take loyalty very seriously here, Lizzie,” Scar warned.

“Of course!” Lizzie waved off, “That man’s dead to me.” She ignored the strangled cry of I heard that from Joel, instead giving Scar a bright cheery smile. He echoed it and the atmosphere seemed to grow a bit tenser, enough for Jimmy to take a wary step back.

“Timmy, where are you going?” Scar asked, turning towards him.

“Yeah, Jimmy, you’re one of us now, remember?” Lizzie cautioned.

Jimmy swallowed, “Uh, right, about that. You know, you two being cats, and us being dogs–”

“The circus doesn’t discriminate,” Scar waved off.

“You took the bone, Jimmy,” Lizzie reminded him sternly.

“Erm, Bdubs, what do you think?” Jimmy tried, turning desperately to the silent pug still watching the trio retreating in the distance.

Bdubs ignored him entirely, instead screaming out “WAIT!” at the top of his lungs.

Jimmy blanched as he watched his fellow dog sprint away from him, calling out a desperate plea of, “Don’t leave me here alone!”

Bdubs caught up to the cat trio easily enough. He stood right in front of Etho, who still looked too sheepish to meet his gaze. With his sternest glare he demanded, “Give me the saddle.”

Etho gave a nervous chuckle but handed over the item all the same. “So…we’re good now? No hard feelings?”

“Nope,” Bdubs answered with a cheery smile, “You’re absolutely dead to me!” He then swiveled round, racing back to join Lizzie, Scar and Jimmy where he left them.

“Oh, thank the void you didn’t abandon me,” Jimmy sighed out in relief.

“Abandon you? No! Never!” Bdubs assured, throwing an arm around the taller dog, “We’re bone brothers now.”

Lizzie cheered and Scar gave his own approving cackle as he swept them all in for a group hug. From within the inner circle, Bdubs continued, “Alright, new family, here’s the deal. I’ve got intel I can share about a whole host of these TRAITORS on this server.”

Still, even as he shared all he knew about the locations of the other players and their species, he couldn’t help glancing behind his back every now and then, just in case. And each time his eyes met only the empty landscape, he felt the cold wrap around his heart just a little bit tighter.

#life series smp #grian #bdoubleo100 #solidaritygaming #mumbo jumbo #smallishbeans #ethoslab #ldshadowlady #goodtimeswithscar #smajor1995 #zombiecleo #inthelittlewood #wild life smp

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thesentientmango · 4 months

Text

Made for @thereisabearonmyceiling for the @mcytblrholidayexchange!!

I made a fic too! (it's over on AO3)

Fic Tags and Image ID Below the cut

Chapters: 2/2

Fandom: 3rd Life | Last Life SMP Series

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: EthosLab & ZombieCleo (Video Blogging RPF)

Characters: ZombieCleo (Video Blogging RPF), EthosLab (Video Blogging RPF)

Additional Tags: Digital Art, Digital Painting, Mild Gore, Canon Compliant, Sort Of, Missing Scene, Zombie ZombieCleo (Video Blogging RPF), Zombie Apocalypse, Secret Life SMP: Session 7, Background characters - Freeform

Summary:

Based on ZombieCleo's Secret Life episode 7 -> especially the snippet at 40:56

Image desciption: A digitally painted scene from ZombieCleo's secret life series. ZombieCleo in the foreground, she is wearing late 80's colorful work out attire, she has green skin and orange curly hair in a bun. She looks upset and is pulling back a bow and aiming towards Ethoslab, a man wearing dark pants, with a green vest, and white hair. He is towards the background and is running towards ZombieCleo with his arm outstretched. he had a bloody cut on his chest and blood coming out of his eyes. The scene takes place at sunset ZombieCleo is standing on a cliff in front of a stone-brick tower, Ethoslab is near a evergreen tree with distant mountains behind him. There are words in the sunset that reads "Etho, I will kill you too." and in the shadow if the tower it says "I won't" [END ID]

#zombiecleo #zombie cleo #ethoslab #etho fanart #secret life #secret life fanart #secret life smp #trafficblr #the life series #life series #secret life session 7 #zombiecleo fanart #mangomakesart #mangowrites #cletho #platonic cletho

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tyxaar · 3 months

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SCAR CRIMES LIGHTING ROUND!!!

I've been getting a lot of asks in my inbox about this post relating to Scar's crimes lol.

Indeed they are.

@numbah-7-knd and @david-tennants-left-ear I've already talked about the cannibalism here, but the soul trading comes from Last Life! He made soul contracts in order to trade Lives with other players. Also he might've sold his soul to the Vex? I dunno the lore is weird so that's mostly my own headcanon lol.

@zev-the-traveler Possesion and patricide, the perfect pair! So possession is also in the weird hazy Convex lore zone, but for a while the Vex masks possessed Cub and Scar to do their shenanigans. With that context they they end up possessing False by giving her one when she helps with a prank. Source As for the patricide, that's simple! Etho is Scar's dad in the Life Series and he murdered him all three times in Secret Life. Same for Cleo's final death! :P

@welsknightenjoyer @mocah @neurotic-sinkhole and @fuck-edfrugs Ah yes, this. The Geneva Convention violation is the only crime on the list that was committed by real life content creator Scar! He used the Red Cross symbol in the Scarland medical office. However, that symbol is protected by the Geneva Convention and it's very much a crime to use it outside real Red Cross operations.

@weirdocritter Here we go!

Well, the war profiteering in S6 was kinda iconic lol. Concorp made SO many diamonds off the civil war that Scar and Cub were actually giving them away basically to stimulate the economy by the end of the season.

The cannibalism is also a fucked up favourite, that one part where he talks FAR to enthusiastically about eating the NHO is so on-brand lol.

Trading of souls is really spooky if you take it out of its original context!

Now, the one I'm most uncertain about is Oathbreaking. That happened in Third Life with the no-kill pass, especially with the Bdubs situation. That's a bit of a toss-up but considering how much they both care about keeping promises, yeah, I'd count it.

Ritual sacrifice!!!! Actually has happened like, four times on count lol. This man can NOT stop joining cults. There's the Convex Cathedral with blood on the offering altars, there's the constant boatem hole sacrifices, there's sacrificing Bdubs to the Moon, and most recently he's tried to sacrifice his friends to the Magic Mountain Bell!!! Or, well, told them they have to at least.

Ah yes, sale of human remains!!! He tried to sell Lizzie's spine (although it was prolly Jim or Mumbo cause she died in the void lol) to Joel. It's really wild when you look at it lmao.

Identity fraud is a littttle abstract, but he's worn so many random disguises and various characters that I'm almost certain there's some in there somewhere. Also, it seems pretty damn likely that Pirates Scar "murdered" S8 Tycoon Scar in order to get off the hook (pun intended) for all of his crimes.

That's a typo I swear!!! AJKSHDsfkjhfdkjsd. Anyways, I've replaced it with Treason on the OG post now.

#goodcrimeswithscar #tyxasks #tyx’s ramblings #convex #goodtimeswithscar #gtwscar #mcyt #hermitcraft #trafficblr

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megabuild · 27 days

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The way they couldn't get Etho for the 3rd life april fools because it required VR and you know his mountain man ass doesnt own a headset. Howling

#mine #rl

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were-changing-cake-vaults · 2 months

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For the Ocean's Calling / Dredge AU: how would the other members of Magic Mountain (Imp, Scar, Skizz, Joel, Mumbo) or anyone else nearby be affected? If not being affected, then they'd probably be very worried of those who are affected.

Like, Etho and Gem is getting a tunnel that runs between their bases and connects to the river, which runs underneath Tango's base

(If you don't really have a idea for any of them yet, that's fine!)

The Thing In The Ocean’s radius of effect isn’t entirely a circle. It more or less surrounds the entirety of Magic Mountain and spreads out from there, with various levels of intensity at each little tendril of influence. That being said:

Scar: farthest from Gem (iirc), not very influenced by the ocean and oblivious to what’s going on besides that someone emailed Grian about sending people into space

Joel: Immune to lore, therefore immune to any sort of weirdness that tries to get at him. Is looking at the fishing squad with various levels of “weird but okay”

Impulse: got a mending book, Ocean was like “alright man ur good”. Grian is more upset about this than Impulse is used to.

Skizz: His brand of shenaniganery intimidates the Ocean but he’ll fish with the gang for friendship reasons. Is more intuitive than people realize.

Mumbo: see here

Tango: It’s affecting his house more than it’s affecting him. There’s grossness in his basement and in his pipes. He doesn’t really appreciate that.

#woosh answers #anonymous #oceans calling au #smallishbeans #goodtimeswithscar #impulsesv #skizzleman #tangotek

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isolarya · 9 months

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the game is about to begin! our players have been chosen from all corners of the world, brought together today to the city of caefiele. what shall await them there?

introducing our players: (keep in mind people change. this isn't final)

GRIAN SOLIDARITY of the red desert - the bloodstained bird SCAR GOODTIMES of the magical mountains - the crystal thief PEARL MOON of the tower - the whispering witch JIMMY SOLIDARITY of the southlands - the canary SCOTT SMAJOR of the flower fields - the mockingbird REN DOG of the red army - the red prince MARTYN LITTLEWOOD of the red army - the loyal hand JOEL SMALLISHBEANS of the shadowlands - the hunter IMPULSE S.V. of the southlands - the deserter ETHO SLAB of the mountain keep - the masked master TANGO TEK of the black mines - the man of fire BDUBS O.O. of the clocktower - the timekeeper CLEO ZOMBIE of the shadowlands - the living corpse BIGB STATZ of the stone citadel - the lonely walker

#grian #goodtimeswithscar #pearlescentmoon #jimmy solidarity #scott smajor #rendog #martyn inthelittlewood #joel smallishbeans #impulsesv #ethoslab #tangotek #bdubs #zombiecleo #bigbst4tz2 #desert duo #flower husbands #treebark #blood and bones au

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if-you-fan-a-fire · 23 days

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"The Progressives’ design for the penitentiary did alter the system of incarceration. Their ideas on normalization, classification, education, labor, and discipline had an important effect upon prison administration. But in this field, perhaps above all others, innovation must not be confused with reform. Once again, rhetoric and reality diverged substantially. Progressive programs were adopted more readily in some states than in others, more often in industrialized and urban areas, less often in southern, border, and mountain regions. Nowhere, however, were they adopted consistently. One finds a part of the program in one prison, another part in a second or in a third. Change was piecemeal, not consistent, and procedures were almost nowhere implemented to the degree that reformers wished. One should think not of a Progressive prison, but of prisons with more or less Progressive features.

The change that would have first struck a visitor to a twentieth-century institution who was familiar with traditional practices, was the new style of prisoners’ dress. The day of the stripes passed, outlandish designs gave way to more ordinary dress. It was a small shift, but officials enthusiastically linked it to a new orientation for incarceration. In 1896 the warden of Illinois’s Joliet prison commented that inmates “should be treated in a manner that would tend to cultivate in them, spirit of self-respect, manhood and self-denial. . . , We are certainly making rapid headway, as is shown by the recently adopted Parole Law and the abolishment of prison stripes.” In 1906, the directors of the New Hampshire prison, eager to follow the dictates of the “science of criminology” and “the laws of modern prisons,” complained that “the old unsightly black and red convict suit is still used. . . . This prison garb is degrading to the prisoner and in modern prisons is no longer worn.” The uniform should be grey: “Modern prisons have almost without exception adopted this color.” The next year they proudly announced that the legislature had approved an appropriation of $700 to cover the costs of the turnover. By the mid-1930’s the Attorney General’s survey of prison conditions reported that only four states (all southern) still used striped uniforms. The rest had abandoned “the ridiculous costumes of earlier days.”

To the same ends, most penitentiaries abolished the lock step and the rules of silence. Sing-Sing, which had invented that curious shuffle, substituted a simple march. Pennsylvania’s Eastern State Penitentiary, world famous for creating and enforcing the silent system, now allowed prisoners to talk in dining rooms, in shops, and in the yard. Odd variations on these practices also ended. “It had been the custom for years,” noted the New Hampshire prison directors, “not to allow prisoners to look in any direction except downward,” so that “when a man is released from prison he will carry with him as a result of this rule a furtive and hang-dog expression.” In keeping with the new ethos, they abolished the regulation.

Concomitantly, prisons allowed inmates “freedom of the yard,” to mingle, converse, and exercise for an hour or two daily. Some institutions built baseball fields and basketbaIl courts and organized prison teams. “An important phase in the care of the prisoner,” declared the warden of California’s Folsom prison, “is the provisions made for proper recreation. Without something to look forward to, the men would become disheartened. . . . Baseball is the chief means of recreation and it is extremely popular.” The new premium on exercise and recreation was the penitentiary’s counterpart to the Progressive playground movement and settlement house athletic clubs.

This same orientation led prisons to introduce movies. Sing Sing showed films two nights a week, others settled for once a week, and the warden or the chaplain usually made the choice. Folsom’s warden, for example, like to keep them light: “Good wholesome comedy with its laugh provoking qualities seems to be the most beneficial.” Radio soon appeared as well. The prisons generally established a central system, providing inmates with earphones in their cells to listen to the programs that the administration selected. The Virginia State Penitentiary allowed inmates to use their own sets, with the result that, as a visitor remarked “the institution looks like a large cob-web with hundreds of antennas, leads and groundwires strung about the roofs and around the cell block.”

Given a commitment to sociability, prisons liberalized rules of correspondence and visits. Sing-Sing placed no restrictions on the number of letters, San Quentin allowed one a day, the New Jersey penitentiary at Trenton permitted six a month. Visitors could now come to most prisons twice a month and some institutions, like Sing-Sing, allowed visits five times a month. Newspapers and magazines also enjoyed freer circulation. As New Hampshire’s warden observed in 1916: “The new privileges include newspapers, that the men may keep up with the events of the day, more frequent writing of letters and receiving of letters from friends, more frequent visits from relatives . . . all of which tend to contentment and the reestablishment of self-respect.’? All of this would make the prisoners’ “life as nearly normal as circumstances will permit, so that when they are finally given their liberty they will not have so great a gap to bridge between the life they have led here . . . and the life that we hope they are to lead.”

These innovations may well have eased the burden of incarceration. Under conditions of total deprivation of liberty, amenities are not to be taken lightly. But whether they could normalize the prison environment and breed self-respect among inmates is quite another matter. For all these changes, the prison community remained abnormal. Inmates simply did not look like civilians; no one would mistake a group of convicts for a gathering of ordinary citizens. The baggy grey pants and the formless grey jacket, each item marked prominently with a stenciled identification number, became the typical prison garb. And the fact that many prisons allowed the purchase of bits of clothing, such as a sweater or more commonly a cap, hardly gave inmates a better appearance. The new dress substituted one kind of uniform for another. Stripes gave way to numbers.

So too, prisoners undoubtedly welcomed the right to march or walk as opposed to shuffle, and the right to talk to each other without fear of penalty. But freedom of the yard was limited to an hour or two a day and it was usually spent in “aimless milling about.” Recreational facilities were generally primitive, and organized athletic programs included only a handful of men. More disturbing, prisoners still spent the bulk of non-working time in their cells. Even liberal prisons locked their men in by 5:30 in the afternoon and kept them shut up until the next morning. Administrators continued to censor mail, reading materials, movies, and radio programs; their favorite prohibitions involved all matter dealing with sex or communism. Inmates preferred eating together to eating alone in a cell. But wardens, concerned about the possibility of riots with so many inmates congregated together, often added a catwalk above the mess hall and put armed guards on patrol.

Prisoners may well have welcomed liberalized visiting regulations, but the encounters took place under trying conditions. Some prisons permitted an initial embrace, more prohibited all physical contact. The rooms were dingy and gloomy. Most institutions had the prisoner and his visitor talk across a table, generally separated by a glass or wire mesh. The more security-minded went to greater pains. At Trenton, for example, bullet-proof glass divided inmate from visitor; they talked through a perforated metal opening in the glass. Almost everywhere guards sat at the ends of the tables and conversations had to be carried on in a normal voice; anyone caught whispering would be returned to his cell. The whole experience was undoubtedly more frustrating than satisfying.

The one reform that might have fundamentally altered the internal organization of the prison, Osborne’s Mutual Welfare League, was not implemented to any degree at all. The League persisted for a few years at Sing-Sing, but a riot in 1929 gave guards and other critics the occasion to eliminate it. One couId argue that inmate self-rule under Osborne was little more than a skillful exercise in manipulation, allowing Osborne to cloak his own authority in a more benevolent guise. It is unnecessary, however, to dwell on so fine a point. Wardens were simply not prepared to give over any degree of power to inmates. After all, how could men who had already abused their freedom on the outside be trusted to exercise it on the inside? Administrators also feared, not unreasonably, that inmate rule would empower inmate gangs to abuse fellow prisoners. In brief, the concept of a Mutual Welfare League made little impact on prison systems throughout this period.

If prisons could not approximate a normal community, they fared no better in attempting to approximate a therapeutic community. Again, reform programs frequently did alter inherited practices but they inevitably fell far short of fulfilling expectations. Prisons did not warrant the label of hospital or school.

Starting in the 1910’s and even more commonly through the 1920's, state penitentiaries established a period of isolation and classification for entering inmates. New prisoners were confined to a separate building or cell block (or occasionally, to one institution in a complex of state institutions); they remained there for a two- to four-week period, took tests and underwent interviews, and then were placed in the general prison population. In the Attorney General’s Survey of Release Procedures: Prisons forty-five institutions in a sample of sixty followed such practices. Eastern State Penitentiary, for example, isolated newcomers for thirty days under the supervision of a classification committee made up of two deputy wardens, the parole officer, a physician, a psychiatrist, a psychologist, the educational director, the social service director, and two chaplains. The federal government’s new prison at Lewisburg, Pennsylvania, opened in 1932 and, eager to employ the most modern principles, also followed this routine. All new prisoners were on “quarantine status,” and over the course of a month each received a medical examination, psychometric tests to measure his intelligence, and an interview with the Supervisor of Education. The Supervisor then decided on a program, subject to the approval of its Classification Board. All of this was to insure “that an integrated program . . . may lead to the most effective adjustment, both within the Institution and after discharge.”

It was within the framework of these procedures that psychiatrists and psychologists took up posts inside the prisons for the first time. The change can be dated precisely. By 1926, sixty-seven institutions employed psychiatrists: thirty-five of them made their appointments between 1920 and 1926. Of forty-five institutions having psychologists, twenty-seven hired them between 1920 and 1926. The innovation was quite popular among prison officials. “The only rational method of caring for prisoners,” one Connecticut administrator declared, “is by classifying and treating them according to scientific knowledge . . . [that] can only be obtained by the employment of the psychologist, the psychiatrist, and the physician.” In fact, one New York official believed it “very unfair to the inmate as well as to the institution to try and manage an institution of this type without the aid of a psychiatrist.”

Over this same period several states also implemented greater institutional specialization. Most noteworthy was their frequent isolation of the criminal insane from the general population. In 1904, only five states maintained prisons for the criminally insane; by 1930, twenty-four did. At the same time, reformatories for young first offenders, those between the ages of sixteen and twenty-five or sixteen and thirty, became increasingly popular. In 1904, eleven states operated such facilities; in 1930, eighteen did. Several states which constructed new prisons between 1900 and 1935 attempted to give each facility a specific assignment. No state pursued this policy more diligently than New York. It added Great Meadow (Comstock), and Attica to its chain of institutions, the first two to service minor offenders, the latter, for the toughest cases. New York‘s only rival was Pennsylvania. By the early 1930’s it ran a prison farm on a minimum security basis; it had a new Eastern State Penitentiary at Grateford and the older Western State Penitentiary at Pittsburgh for medium security; and it made the parent of all prisons, the Eastern State Penitentiary at Philadelphia, the maximum security institution. Some states with two penitentiaries which traditionally had served different geographic regions, now tried to distinguish them by class of criminals. In California, for instance, San Quentin was to hold the more hopeful cases, Folsom the hard core.

But invariably, these would-be therapeutic innovations had little effect on prison routines. They never managed to penetrate the system in any depth. Only a distinct minority of institutions attempted to implement such programs and even their efforts produced thin results. Change never moved beyond the superficial."

- David J. Rothman, Conscience and Convenience: The Asylum and Its Alternatives in Progressive America. Revised Edition. New York: Aldine de Gruyter, 2002 (1980), p. 128-134

#penal reform #progressive penology #progressive politics #rehabilitation #penal modernism #american prison system #penology #prison sports #prison community #prison discipline #convict uniforms #prison routine #classification and segregation #history of crime and punishment #mutual welfare league #utopia of classification #academic quote #reading 2023 #david rothman

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tiredphilosophist · 6 months

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my roman empire

⟡ my roman empire is zhongli and childe.

i would like to think it's not all about mora for zhongli. he's a lonely, old man who has lived for several millennia, losing his one love many years ago to the vicious grasp of a war. he yearns to fall softly into the palms of mortal ethos; he wants to love again, reminisce again. he wants to experience the beautiful thing it is to live and to die. ⟡ then, ajax surprisingly and suddenly comes into his life. characterised by a cocky and silly attitude, childe's wit and charm pulls zhongli's attention in a whirlwind of unexpected feelings. he suddenly finds himself indulged within this little bundle of mischief and life- and god, it makes him feel alive. he relishes within childe's irresistible bright spirits and insatiable courage and grit. it was like bathing in sunlight after an age of dull, quiet times. ⋆｡𖦹° tartaglia, on the other hand; you'd assume he gets a little annoyed at zhongli's horrible spending habits and tantalising stories, whipping out his wallet every time they went shopping together at the markets. although, his countless tales and overflowing knowledge amused him greatly. (and seeing zhongli's eyes light up at the smallest of trinkets, from an average cor lapis to a new feather pen; it made it all worth it.) ⟡ in all honesty though, childe really did enjoy it. he loved to sit with his cheek in his palm, listening to zhongli ramble on about countless old legends and memories, the history of his nation, his poetic craft of stringing liyue's history into a painting within one's head... the food growing cold upon the table- but oh, who cares? zhongli looked so peaceful and happy whenever he talked about the past, his eyes glazed over in this pretty reminiscence- even if his dinner had barely been touched. besides, it's not like childe couldn't afford to purchase all the hot meals in the world to keep the time passing... ⟡ with his brutal past behind him, zhongli felt that childe's cocky personality was just a front. when they were alone, he would notice childe gazing longingly at the flowered fields and toppled mountains of liyue, its bubbling brooks and ponds, dappled within spots of hazy, afternoon light. "this peacefulness," he would say quietly to zhongli, who would walk beside him. "it reminds me of home; schneznaya." zhongli would smile then, and reach out to hold his hand. he understood the pains of homesickness; for a time and place that no longer was. ⋆｡𖦹° ⟡ tartaglia, misunderstood from birth and thrown into the brutalities of the abyss by mistake; he had always felt like the only real thing that fed his insatiable hunger for bloodshed and victory was fighting. more and more fighting, and killing, and battles, and war. although, there lied a real war within his heart and mind; one where he felt conflicted between peace and ignorance. he often wondered if continuing this tiring life of chasing that high that could only be fulfilled with a fiesty battle and a few wounds was worth it- wondered if he really did simply have no other worth, but to be an asset of war, loyal to the tsaritsa. but he found that zhongli changed this; his unbridled knowledge, his effortless patience and wisdom and timeless company... he found himself letting go around the man; feeling so at ease and safe, too. like he could finally stop fighting, even if for a moment. maybe there really was something more to live for. ⋆｡𖦹° tl;dr: childe and zhongli is that one trope where one feels they are too hard to love or undeserving of love, but the other loves them as easily as it is to breathe. i'll let you decide who is who...! thanks for reading if you did. this is my first post; i have no idea how tumblr works, but i wanna use this platform as a place to dump all my silly headcannons and stories of my favourite silly goofy ficitional characters. ⟢

#zhongchi #zhongli #tartaglia #childe #genshin #genshin headcanons

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enpr-ss · 6 months

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3 HOURS!!!! LETS GOOOOOOOO

“That guy’s in a funny spot…. And yet I’m not laughing” etho pls

Him jumping off the stairs to dodge being trapped by 2 ravagers is just so cool. And then he enters level 3 and it’s pathetic tiny slime man again. “I wanna go homeeeee”. He’s so panicked in the dripstone it’s great. HOW DID HE DODGE BETWEEN THREE VEXES AND A RAVAGER AND EVOKER TEETH OH MY GOD. he can’t make the chain parkour when it’s not going LOL. and then he gets help from Pearl to do parkour! Everyone is an etho girl. All that and he dies to a vex.

The audacity to call Gem a chihuahua when he started it and the one who shakes like a little dog.

That’s an interesting strategy of also considering the slots the cards take up. Never thought of it that way before. That one should swap commons for rares makes sense obviously, but the way explained it! What a gamer.

BRO HE TRUSTED THAT CARPET BLOCKER SO MUCH!!! such a greedy boi. He has his loot path READY. so far he seems to be more scared of level 1 than of Willie. The shaky cam is REAL. DOUBLE REPAIR KIT HOLY!!!!! THE DUNGEON LOVES HIM. 3 EMBERS 2 CROWNS 4 COINS!!!! Tango probably limited it to 1 repair kit a run because he’s etho-proofing it. He knows. HE’S LEAVING THE DUNGEON WITH LIKE 10 CLANK BLOCK!!!

I’m not surprised he’s willing to trade 4 tomes for bounding strides. Jump boost is no joke. Etho knows that any game breaking strats he employs is going to be nerfed. He is self aware. Mountain climbing ravagers are no joke.

What a greed run. Wide turns to get the treasure! Evasion + tome = “a failed rusty run”. this guy.

Speedrun!!! Server literally forcing etho not to be greedy. All that in 5 minutes.

“There’s no ravagers here” SIKE. I really like how he strategizes and really makes use of his deck and where the cards get deployed. Less shriekers in level 3 means a chance to build up clank block. Gotta go down to level 2 asap to trigger treasure and keys there. Lure the ravagers to create an exit path. OF COURSE ITS THE GEM OF GREATNESS THAT TROLLS HIM BY BEING ONE BLOCK OFF. HAHAHAHA. SECOND WIND CLUTCH!!! HAZARD BLOCK WITH A RAVAGER BUT IT MADE A DIFFERENCE ANYWAYS!! JUST BARELY MADE THE CHAIN PARKOUR!!! Rusty!!! 6 EMBERS 4 COINS AND A CROWN OH MY GOD. Noooo he missed the crown in the center! “We stumble and we run” “STUMBLE”. The Shaky Camera!!! “I don’t want to see Swagger right now if I see Swagger I’m going to cry” *Swagger pops up immediately* “nooooooo”

HE JUST BE JEDI MINDTRICKING THAT RAVAGER INTO THE ROOM!!! Hypno must be fuming right now. I cannot believe he jumped right over Willie’s head, got stuck, and still manages to swim to shore without getting a single hit. Cub is so sad right now. Etho always has a Strat for the worst case scenario of being hazard block (a hard learned lesson right there lol), and he’s so happy when the way is actually cleared for once. Dodging that ravager and then MOMENT OF CLARITY RIGHT BEFORE HE EXITS!!! The dungeon is taunting him and wants him to stay so bad. AND THEN SWAGGER IN THE SHOP!!!

So he WAS a honey doper and sus stew slurper. Your barrel betrays you Etho. Oof that was rough. Ravager wrangling on level 1 is hard sometimes. He gives fair deals!! And calls out ripoffs! And it still doesn’t work lol. Infrequent runners giving out shards for cards makes sense because they aren’t going to use those shards anyways and having fun in dungeon with better cards matters more lol.

Remember when Tango said that people would never hit treasure limit on level 1? Especially without getting a key? Etho and Hypno and Gem are laughing at his redstone right now. Etho badmouthing Sprint before reluctantly buying it and now he loves it. Etho explores ONE time and immediately gets punished and he vows to never make that mistake again. HE GOT SANDWICHED BY THE LEVEL 2 DOORS LOL. HE ETHOWALLED HIMSELF. And of course the shop continues to torment him with bounding strides and nimble looting. I think he made the right choice there; especially since his deck has so much clank block.

How does he always get sprint right before entering level 3?? Rigged. HE ALREADY MEMORIZED LEVEL 3 AND LURES WARDENS AROUND!!? DARES TO UNSHIFT WHILE BLINDED AND ITS RIGHT THERE?!?! HOW?!! ETHO MY MAN HOW ARE YOU DOING THIS?!?! And then he misses Willie right there. AND HE MAKES IT!!! EVEN WITH A CAMPING RAVAGER!!!

Gem is absolutely right. Tango would hide an egg in the spiders den.

HE DOES IT AGAIN!!! Sprint right before level 3, in and out in roughly a minute, loot and scoot speeding his escape. And now Rusty!! 3 embers, 3 coins, and 3 crowns. That’s a lot. And he talks to Rusty like he’s telling his wild stories too. Sprint might be op, especially for level 3. Maybe tango should consider either nerfing it, making it more expensive, or limiting which level it can play at. He got 10 crowns. That’s insane. I don’t think anyone has ever left with 10 crowns without finding an egg / egg loot.

Etho: this is a deck building phase…. Here are three very good cards that I could buy. Hmmm…

Etho: *buys 5 tomes*

Etho: *hands in 20 tomes*

I hate him so much why is he like this. I think sprint and a time would have been fine too. But yeah any of those cards would have been fantastic. AND HE CALLS GEM A TRYHARD IN THE CAKE ROOM. THIS LITTLE SHIT.

AND THEY ALL GANG UP TO BEAT HIM UP FOR TAKING SO LONG. HAHAHAHAAH. BEST MOMENT OF DECKED OUT RIGHT HERE. JUSTICE AND KARMA HAS BEEN SERVED. OH MY GOD. HE SEES GEM FIRST WITH HER SWORD BUT ITS BDUBS WHO PUNCHES HIM TO DEATH. YES. THIS IS SO SATISFYING. AND THEY STEAL HIS CROWNS AND CARDS.

Etho out here defending victims of scams and bad deals. First Cleo now Bdubs. And of course Bdubs voted armadillo when Etho specifically said not to. Gem’s a loyal ethogirl!!! That’s why she wants to beat him up so much. Etho on his rants. We love it. And then he just sets up Bdubs perfectly for Scar’s ravager jumpscare. Love that jump boost activated at the perfect time for that as well.

Wow that’s a lot of coins. Wished he didn’t cut him looping those ravagers though. And look he’s too scared to do the gem vine swing over the ravager in the spiders den. I’m really liking the crystal tings for level 3. It sounds so cool. Etho’s got level 3 down pat. Oh my god that bdubs track gave me a legit jumpscare. Was that tango messing around?? And I can’t believe that Etho maxed out the treasure for both levels. Of course he did. How does the shop always troll him with a card that literally just out of his reach.

That was a classic turn around the corner and BAM ravager jumpscare. Truly it is the spooky season this phase. Slime Etho!! Look at him go, looping wardens and finding the right spot somehow in all that blindness and tension. He got loot and scoot combined with bounding strides. And it got wasted because he was blinded and the warden was right there. The jump boost lasts for so long. The ravager wrangler is back at it! And he’s just there telling tales to Rusty as he waits for the loot to dispense. 2 coins, 4 embers, and 3 crowns!! Max Clank? We haven’t seen that for a while. YO THAT RAVAGER WAS RIGHT THERE HOW DID HE NOT SEE IT?!? HOW DID HE SURVIVE? Bro the redstone delay with the vexes saved his life right there. I CANNOT BELIEVE HE JUST CHARGED THROUGH RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE RAVAGER ON ONE HEART!!!! OH MY GOD. AND HE MAKES IT!!!! That shaky camera though.

Wait has Etho not died on level 3 yet? Omg he isn’t afraid to not perma-sneak. Look at him breaking the game again. The wild thing is that he found a parkour shortcut that many people had thought impossible previously. And of course jump boost occurs immediately after. His runs are just hilarious. I THOUGHT HE WAS ABOUT TO JUMP INTO LAVA HAHA. And what a perfect ending with the exact amount of frost embers needed to purchase suit up.

44 CROWNS!!! WHAT.

#ethoslab #etho #decked out 2 #hermitcraft #enpr-ss #phase 4

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daisycraft · 30 days

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(In Love With) Judas

I want to love you but something’s pulling me away from you. ♡

It’s the end times.

It’s difficult to think of only the next and not the end, or the finale, or the moment when Martyn realizes that there’s no going back.

Gear and courage is scarce when the remnants of the Red Army gather in the swamp. Food is passed around– and when they realize there’s not enough, then it’s split, and passed around again. Martyn watches Ren tear bread with his hands, passing pieces to Etho, BigB, before those red eyes fall upon him. Blood is still steadily dripping down the passage beneath the eye that tears would travel, along the dark ring before slipping off his cheek.

Martyn takes his piece after a second. His own hesitation surprises him. Half-dried blood from Ren’s fingers rubs off on his own, stains his hand as he takes his torn bread, struggling to find the strength to bite into it.

He lost his appetite ages ago, beneath a full moon. Maybe before then, on a mountain top, beside a chest with three slips of paper within it. Maybe, even, in a room with a magic table, several people, and a fumbling business owner.

He swallows.

Everytime he tries to think about the next, just about what will happen soon and not eventually, his mind keeps wandering. He can’t stop thinking about that altar.

Ren told him back then that he had a chance to strike him down, take him out of the game for good, because he was naked and unarmed and vulnerable. Martyn looks to the other side of the fort as the scattered soldiers try to strengthen themselves, to where Ren kneels, wrapping the handle of the Skizzblade in thin strips of leather. His ears are pinned to his head, almost obscured entirely by his crown of golden thorns. Martyn looks and sees that same vulnerable man.

The grip he has on his own weapon tightens subconsciously.

Next, Martyn tells himself as he moves outside, they will collect themselves. Afterwards, Martyn tells himself, they will march away from the swamp, move up the hill, and descend upon the besieged Dogwarts through the gates. Then… Martyn tries to think.

It’s hard to think when there’s a hand on his shoulder. A figure that smells of iron and wood stands at his side, rumbling idly with a growl that hasn’t faded in hours. Ren is there when Martyn spares a glance, that pale grey and red face turned away from him, instead staring forward solemnly towards the hill. Towards his kingdom.

“Hand,” the Lord purrs.

“M’lord,” the Hand responds.

The hand on his shoulder presses, massaging the muscle as Ren watches the horizon intensely. Martyn watches him. He wouldn’t call it intense, the way his expression stones and he stares at every minute shift of Ren’s face, but there isn’t anything better.

“It’s our final day, I’m sure you can feel it,” says Ren, finally turning to him. Martyn’s jaw clenches, suddenly squirmish beneath his attention. “But we shall never go down without a fight. There is no better way to die than fighting for our home. Fighting for what we love, who we love.”

The hand squeezes. The Hand feels nauseous.

Ren carries on, looking back to the hill as the sounds of Etho and BigB begin to gather behind them on the wool bridge. “This will be our final stand, laddies. Our final chance to show those filthy stinkin’ desert hippies what we’re freaking made of! And we are going to take back Dogwarts or die trying!”

It’s hard to match Ren’s energy.

BigB grins and murmurs a casual response, as if he already knew that he was gonna live beyond the battle, though newly Red. Etho spins a little, patting all his pockets to make sure he had the most he could carry, before nervously agreeing.

Ren’s eyes are on him. His lord has got a small, confident smile. Martyn wishes it’d waver.

He huffs out a laugh, patting Ren on the back and slipping away from the grip on the shoulder. He does his damnedest to smile back.

“Aye,” Martyn says, without the heart of putting on his voice, “right, let’s get on with it.”

Get on with which part?

Something within Martyn asks him. Asks himself? … Something within Martyn asks.

Ren takes the lead. Of course Ren takes the lead. Martyn is not far behind, and neither are Etho or BigB. They expect their king to hold back, capture the field and patch of forest in front of the gates, but he charges through it, slicing through their sugarcane crop with the Skizzblade, and like wildfire, his Red Army follows after. Smoke will choke one of them later.

Do you wish to get on with the battle? You know you are going to die.

Martyn fortifies the ground in front of the gates. They push through as projectiles rain from above and from within.

You tighten your hand around the grip of your sword. Who do you truly wish for it to fall upon?

At first, it was Impulse, then Tango who fell to his sword. The leaves of their smoldering crops crush beneath his boots.

Look at him.

Martyn looks. He scans the field to try to find Ren, and as he pulls himself up a hill, he sees him turn the corner of Renchanting. Scar is in hot pursuit.

What is it that you feel?

He doesn’t know.

Rage that he’s being taken from you, just around that corner, out of sight? Envy, that it wasn’t you that killed him?

You wanted to kill him.

You wasted your chance on that altar. You should have killed him.

You waited too long. You waited for a fair duel.

Life isn’t fair, Hand.

He couldn’t’ve. Martyn thinks long and hard in that fraction of time between when Scar goes behind the building and when he reappears, sans Ren and plus a whole lot more blood. He thinks about what Ren told him about life, and doing what hurts.

He was going to die, by you or by anyone else. He wouldn’t have laid a paw on you and you know it, you sick creature.

He’s crying. He doesn’t know why. Martyn would have cried either way.

Scar is coming towards him, pulling an arrow from the quiver on his hip. Martyn is charging.

Rage?

Envy?

Don’t say it’s love.

Don’t lie to him.

#🐕‍🦺🪓🐈#daisy post #inthelittlewood #renthedog #renchanting #treebark #<- might as well. tho not quite explicitly treebark

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