GENRE: fluff - maybe crackish?
FEATURED: joel
WARNINGS: none
PROMPT: Etho loses his mask, and finds who the thief who stole it was.
WORD COUNT: 759
//one day i will get back to writing angst... but for now:
//also this idea has been in the works since the beginning of writing these two- so it looks as tho i joined the obsessed joke sorta late. sjsns
"Where even is it?!" A groan of frustration leaves from Etho, his voice echoed the room after slamming the top part of the chest down, a flurry of noise follows the action.
To put it simply, Etho has lost his mask. He wasn't quite sure how or when, but during the past few days and up until now, the mask was gone with no trace.
A sigh of defeat leaves from the ashen-haired male as he walked over to his bed on the other side of the room, plopping himself down and resting his chin in his hands, elbows rested on his knees as he stared forward with a blank focus on the wall ahead of him.
Etho's thoughts wracked through every memory from the past week or so to how he could have lost his mask, trying to remember who he last interacted with to think if any of them would know. He's interacted with a decent few, like Mumbo, Gem, and especially...
Etho hears a noise come from one of the rooms next over as he was stuck in thought of his missing wanderings. His head perks up at the said noise. There was only ever one other person besides him in the house.
...Joel.
With a steady thought flowing in his head, Etho stands from his bed and walks over to the door, letting it creak open after pushing it gently over and stepping out onto the landing.
He looks left and right, ears perked for more noise to which he follows through the house until a few minutes after, and Etho finds himself standing in a singular open doorway of one of the rooms.
Etho peeks his head past the doorframe, noticing the familiar figure of Joel standing near one of the walls and facing it. On the very wall was a standard size mirror that Joel seemed to be entertaining himself with, laughing at himself as he made jokes and silly voices and even poses or other movements to go with what he said every other sentence.
Etho goes to only take two steps into the room, and with Joel's extraordinary observant antics, from where Joel stood, he turns around speedily, meeting eye to eye with Etho.
He goes to speak to the other male, only to realise that Joel had something of his...
Joel was wearing Etho's mask, the one he's been looking for hours on end for. All this time spent looking around wasted, only to find that the brunette had it to himself all along.
Etho leans against the wall behind him, arms crossed over as a facade of cheekiness crosses over his features, eyes focused solely on the other male. "What you wearing there Joel?" He asks teasingly, nodding his head towards the other male.
"...Nothing." Joel stutters a little, staring wide-eyed at Etho.
"Uh huh... seems like it." A smirk crosses his facial features. "Then mind telling me where you got that mask from?"
A sudden hit of realisation shocks through Joel, one of his hands come up to his face as he attempts horribly at hiding the midnight coloured mask that he was wearing. "Oh, you mean about this? Totally from the shopping district! Not anywhere else." The umber eyed smaller attempts to lie, hoping to metaphorically push Etho away. His voice sounded incredibly muffled, but Etho could still understand him from under it all.
"That's funny," he steps incredibly closer towards Joel, "because the mask you're wearing looks exactly like my one. From every frailed loose string to anything else. Practically down to a tee. Are you sure that's not mine... or are you so obsessed that you're cosplaying as me now?"
Joel stills himself into defensive mode. "I'm not the one obsessed, thank you very much, Etho!" He huffs loudly. Etho couldn't help but chuckle silently. It was easy to rile Joel up when using the right words, and in a way, it was entertaining to the ashen-haired taller. Joel reminded Etho of a young toddler who was in a stroppy mood, whinging until daylight was taken away.
"I don't know about that... everything you do lately around here seems like you are, and the fact that you also decided to move in with me a few months ago doesn't help factor your point there, Joel."
Another huff comes from the male who was talked about.
Etho talked once more, originating back to the previous subject of talking. "Anyways. The mask...?"
"Nope! It is mine!"
"Joel!"
"...Bye!"
"Joel, don't run off! ...Damn it... Joel! Come back!"
54 notes
·
View notes
This is not the first time it has lived, maw open and hungry and crawling. This is not the first time it has existed, hewn from stone and filled with power. Treasure and temptation. Risk and reward. It has lived, before; consumed, before; ended, before.
It knows this time will be no different.
And yet, and yet, it is different.
Larger. Stronger. Its bones stretch long, stretch down, fill out a cavern over twice the size of the one that had housed it before. Its stomach is larger. Emptier. If it had hungered before, it starves now, starves enough to eat its own. The ravagers, the wardens, the vex and all the rest: the beasts of the dungeon are the teeth that ring its gaping jaw. One by one, it swallows them in an attempt to sate the hunger. It is not enough. It will never be enough.
Players think themselves to be large, but in comparison to the dungeon, they are but flies in a trap. It swallows them too, one by one. It helps a little, but not enough. It is big. It is massive. Its meal must be, too.
A player runs through the dungeon. It recognises him. Conqueror. Champion. The one they’d all lauded as winner, last time, before it had been forced to end. The dungeon does not want to end again. So much is different, this time. Surely this can be too.
The Champion runs. The dungeon, hungry, hateful, slams a door shut in his face. “Tango!” he cries forlornly, turning away from the hazard.
Nearby, the Dungeon Master’s consciousness, watching through the dungeon’s eyes, cackles. Protests, “That wasn’t me!”
Of course it wasn’t him. The Dungeon Master’s body stands, listless, empty, among the innards and veins that line the dungeon’s outer walls. He’s powerless. The dungeon could eat him, too, if it really wanted to—has, on many an occasion. It would consume him entirely if it could—but the Dungeon Master is too useful. The players won’t come if there’s no Dungeon Master to hand out meaningless prizes. They won’t allow themselves to be eaten if they don’t believe that it’s a game. And so the Dungeon Master lives, and the dungeon allows him to do his work, if only out of necessity.
The Champion dodges a ravager. The Champion dodges a vex. The dungeon’s heart pounds, tha-thump, tha-thump, overwhelming and fast and loud. The dungeon hungers. The dungeon hates. The dungeon does not want the Champion to escape. The dungeon wants to swallow the Champion whole.
Silent, invisible, the Dungeon Master cheers the Champion on, even as the Champion curses his name for the teeth clamping down around him. It’s funny, the way the Champion blames the Dungeon Master. Human bodies are not meant to contain such hunger. Such hatred. No player could contain within it a cavern’s worth of wires and veins, beasts and teeth and stone and bones. No player could ever covet such a feast.
The dungeon closes its mouth, gnashes its teeth, swirls its tongue and swallows its prey.
The Champion slips between two molars and escapes between its lips.
The dungeon howls, hunger and hatred and fury echoing through its marrow, and the Dungeon Master flinches, full-body. He doesn’t feel it, consciousness still floating around the Champion as he peruses cards. The dungeon feels it, though, feels it in a way that no player will ever be able to feel, because their bodies are not made of redstone and stone and their hearts are not made of magic and sound and their teeth are not made of monsters and beasts and their hunger is not for blood and souls and the crushing resonance of defeat.
The dungeon writhes, and quiets, and starves, and with every silent, absent beat of its heart, it grows just a little more hateful.
(Deep in its guts, the Dungeon Master’s empty body shivers.)
185 notes
·
View notes
Etho wasn't expecting much from the season 8 spawn. Maybe a nice forest, a cool island to make into a community center, a village nearby so Joe could get started on his Hermits-Helping-Hermits farms right away.
The two new hermits were to be expected. Xisuma had mentioned the world was still occupied, but that he'd spoken to the residents before about joining. Grian, upon seeing them, immediately ran up to to one, with brownish-hair and light blue eyes, hugging her and beginning to introduce her as Pearl, an old friend.
He didn't expect much from the server spawn. It'd be a regular, if shorter, season. It'd be a good time with old and new friends.
Etho certainly did not expect to recognize the other new hermit, standing straight and tall in the hole Mumbo found them in.
Familiar, fluffy red hair with a dripleaf tucked behind her ear. Bright green eyes that sparkled with an air of innocent mischief, like she'd be far too good at deflecting blame and all too willing to exploit it. Pale skin, a splatter of freckles across her cheeks and shoulders, a lively, vibrant, energetic feeling that spread through the hermits like a wave of excitement.
And that immediate, sharp, and intense gaze, that locked onto him through the crowd.
"Etho?!"
Gem's voice was the same as ever. He always compared it to a songbird's; clear, high, melodic, and expressive to no end. And it cut through the chaos of the new spawn, silencing the hermits. Even Grian, fussing over the other new Hermit, Pearl, quit his excitable introductory chatter.
"Hey, Gem," Etho said, a bit awkwardly. He waved, the smile on his face hidden aside from his eyes.
Her expression went from complete shock to... something far closer to anger. She stormed out of the hole, walked right up to his face, and pointed a finger right up to the mask, nearly touching his nose.
"Uh," Etho said, eloquently.
She slapped him.
Right across the face. A good slap, too, one he'd been privy to only a few times before, following through and hitting him hard on his left cheek. He kind of expected it, so it missed his ear by a centimeter, but he still reeled back in pain, one hand already up to cradle his jaw. She hadn't held back in the slightest.
"Etho!" Bdubs yelled. Several of the other hermits raised sticks and hands, ready to defend him on his behalf. Xisuma stepped forward. Even the other new hermit, Pearl, seemed ready to throw hands on behalf of a friend of Grian's.
The air was tense. He held his breath. It felt like time was frozen, her eyes locked onto his like he was a dead man, like he wouldn't survive the next five minutes.
"Gem?" he asked, softly.
She grabbed him by the shoulders and hugged him.
Tightly. She was much smaller than him, but her presence almost never made a difference until now, when she was holding him tight enough to hurt his ribcage, like she'd never let him go. Between the feeling of his bones creaking and the raw emotion he felt at finally hugging her again, it was almost just as painful as the slap.
"Hey, Gem, it's okay, I'm okay." He tried for soothing, though it came out slightly more like a wheeze. "Good to see you, too."
"I thought you were dead, you idiot!" she said, furiously, face buried into his chest, muffled by the jacket and the fur.
"I'm not. Right here."
She didn't let go of him for a long time. The silence was welcomed, despite the small bit of chatter rushing through the crowd of Hermits, but he just rubbed a hand on her shoulder and gave her a tight squeeze until she finally loosened her grip, looking up at him.
"Well." Etho touched his cheek, which was going slightly numb. "That was a heck of a greeting."
"You deserved it!" she said, but her eyes were lighter, less pained. A little bit more hers.
See, that was the thing about Gem. She had a facade. She didn't want to be genuine, not in front of a crowd. She'd cling to the bit of anger while it served a purpose because otherwise, she'd cry, and she wasn't ready for that yet. Etho was happy to let her stay mad. He was just happy to see her at all.
"Yeah, I guess I kinda did," he said sheepishly.
"You just! Left! Completely vanished off the face of the planet!"
"I'll explain, I promise," Etho said. "I didn't mean to."
"You know, you're supposed to tell me when you get drafted or something, not just up and leave me with no notice at all," Gem said pointedly.
He couldn't help but laugh at that. A huffed chuckle that stumbled over itself in surprise. It felt so good to talk to her again. "I did apologize, you know. Like three times already."
"Stupid. Stupid!" She scoffed. "You owe me for that."
"Well, you're here for the season, Gem," he said, holding out his hands. "I can pay you back. What do you want, diamonds? I can make you a skeleton farm?"
"You'd get those for me anyway! No, I want something special." She frowned, crossing her arms. One finger tapped her cheek in thought, a habit she'd never lost since they were kids. "Aha! I want a note-block IOU from you."
"Uh-huh." Part of his brain was already scrambling together a plan to get the redstone, so he'd have it ready when she asked. "I can do that, yeah."
"And you have to make me an iron farm."
"It's Hermitcraft. There are iron farms everywhere."
"Don't care, I want a personal one."
"Okay. I have a design in mind."
"And. And!" She held up a finger, as if it was far more important than any other thing. "You get me a fox as a pet."
"I'll have it for you tomorrow," he agreed easily.
Gem paused. Looked at him. "You're no fun when you don't fight back."
She threw her arms around him again.
He returned the hug. Instead of his classic one armed sling around the shoulder, he wrapped her up in both of his arms and held her close. She was always far warmer than he was, like a little bundle of heat in his arms. He used to jokingly call her a portable space heater, back when they were younger.
"I missed you," she said softly.
He sighed, feeling himself relax. There was the genuinity. She wasn't as mad anymore. "Missed you too, Gemstone."
"Uh," Grian said. "...So. Welcome to the server, Pearl and... Gem? What just happened?"
Etho glanced up from the red hair in his face--the curse of Gem hugs, always getting hair in your nose, not that he cared in the slightest--and caught all the eyes staring. A pang of nervousness started in his chest. "Oh. Right. Um."
"Etho, they don't even know about me?" Gem said, exasperated. "What kind of brother even are you?!"
"It never came up! I didn't know if I'd ever see you again!"
"You could've called! Or whispered me!" The mask was starting to crack on her face. "Or just... let me know you were okay?"
"I'm sorry," he said, lowering his voice. He put a hand on her shoulder, lightly, and she leaned into the touch. "I couldn't. I... something happened, and I didn't have a choice."
She nodded, slightly. "Okay. But you'll explain. Or I'll just kill you."
"Fair enough," he said, and at her soft smile of a truce, he took a breath. "Uh, this is Gem. She's... kind of like my sister."
"I am your sister," she corrected.
"Adopted."
"You're the adopted one."
"Touché," he relented. Part of him was mildly amused at the heads swiveling back and forth between the two of them, trying to keep up. "She and I were on the same server for a bit, her family took me in, helped me out, and, uh. Yeah."
"Ever the storyteller," Gem teased.
"You kinda sprung this on me," he said, defensive. "I could regale them with that one time where you tried to hug a pufferfish--"
"Don't you even dare."
"--or when I had to come get you out of a tree you climbed to high in because you were scared to get down--"
"You got stuck too--"
"--or maybe when you took a sweet berry from an artic fox and got upset when it bit you--"
"Etho!"
He held up his hands, grinning wider than he had in a while. God, he missed this. He missed their easy banter, the sound of her voice, even her aura of terror, if she wanted to be scary. "Okay! I surrender."
"...Yeah. They're siblings," Tango said, eyebrows raised up so high his forehead was nigh invisible. "What even was that?"
"She slapped you, dude," Ren said.
"I deserved it," he said, at the same time Gem said, "He deserved it."
"What is happening?!" Tango said, his voice going high-pitched.
Etho couldn't help but laugh. A sort of scrambling, snort of a laugh, complimenting Gem's mischievous giggling beside him, and he leaned on her shoulder, wiping his eyes. "Oh, dear. Oh my goodness."
"You still talk like a Victorian woman, you know."
He sighed, halfway exasperated and way too fond. "Mmm. I think I noticed that."
"Do you still say 'oh, snappers' when anything of mild interest happens?"
"Naturally," he said, in mock offense. "What, you think I'd just stop using the best phrase in the English language?"
"God, you literally haven't changed at all!" She said gleefully. "It's like someone just copy-pasted you into this world and gave you a shiny new look."
"Hey, don't insult the jacket. It's warm!"
"You're an ice cube, Etho, it's just like you to wear a winter coat in the middle of high summer."
"Not everyone is a space heater."
"Oh, shut up!"
The hermits had dismissed a bit, then, greeting Pearl, punching trees, but a few of them--namely Tango and Ren--were still swiveling their heads back and forth between them, trying to comprehend any of what was happening. Part of him suddenly felt at ease. Everything was easier now. Gem was here and safe. He could protect her. She'd meet his friends.
Hermitcraft was a safe zone. Xisuma did his absolute best to make sure the server would protect its inhabitants. Gem, being here with him, was the safest she'd ever been.
She tugged his arm, and he looked down. Turned, gave her his full attention. Something he'd always found easy to do. "What's up?"
A pause. Like she was trying to calculate the best way to say something.
"...Your eye? And the mask?" she asked, quietly. Composed.
He flinched, slightly. Involuntarily. "Uh."
She shook her head. "Story for another time?"
"...Yeah. But I will explain."
"You seem to have a lot of explaining to do."
"It's been, how long," he mused. "Ten years? There's a lot of stories to tell. Tell me right now, what have you been up to?"
Gem blinked, as if fully understanding. "Oh. Yeah, I get it. We can talk later."
He grinned. "Storytime later."
"But, uh," she said, even softer. "...Do I get to see your face?"
Etho considered it. Considered lifting the fabric from his face, showing his little sister the scar that went from eye to mouth. The gruesome tearing in his skin. His face was mangled enough as it was from nose up.
Despite her insistence, he had changed. Death games and the constant need to survive did that to a person. He was surprised she even recognized him, let alone as fast as she did.
But. Gem was just the same.
She was the same girl who ran around playing with squirrels. The same little sister who fussed over him after he got hurt in the woods hunting for food. She'd grown, obviously, into her exuberant energy, into her control, her strengths. She was, as a person, whole. Strong. The little girl he used to protect from monsters could protect herself. She didn't need him to shield her anymore, not really.
"...Maybe," he decided. "I, uh, it's easier to explain."
"Okay," she said simply. "If not, that's okay, too. It's just good to have you back."
"You too."
"You never thought to tell me you had a sibling?" Bdubs interrupted, appearing suddenly in front of the two of them, arms crossed and somehow already riding a horse.
"Gem, this is Bdubs, he means to say," Etho cleared his throat, and began in a slightly altered impression of Bdubs, "'Hi! It's nice to meet you! I'm BdoubleO, but you can call me Bdubs!'"
"Hey! I do not sound like that!" he protested. "Anyway! Hi, I'm Bdubs. It's nice to meet you."
Gem hummed in thought, looking between the two of them. "You do, actually."
"Do... what?"
"You do sound like that."
Etho snorted, suddenly, and turned to give her a high five, even as Bdubs shouted in outrage. Tango's hair burned brighter in confusion. Ren had one ear tilted perpetually in their direction.
"What on earth--Etho, don't tell me you're going to side with her!"
"She's my sister, Bdubs, 'course I am." Etho said, matter-of-factly. "Here, I could try again. 'I'm so tall'--"
"Shaddup!"
"Oh, is that why he's on a horse?" Gem asked, looking up at him innocently. "'Cause he's short?"
"I'm five-foot-ten!"
"Oh, so five-seven, right?" She looked at Etho. "It's like fishing, he gets an inch taller every time?"
Etho broke out into laughter, nearly doubling over. God, he missed her. Classic Gem humor. "You need some ice for that burn?"
"You could just try Etho, he's cold enough as is."
Etho shrugged. "Though I'm not sure he could reach me without his horse as a stepladder."
"Argh! There's two of you, I can't take this!" Bdubs pulled away the reigns, charging off in the direction of the other hermits, presumably to complain about getting called short again.
Etho looked over, to find Gem glancing up at him at the same time. That spark of mischievousness was back in her eyes, brighter than the sun. "I don't know if I like that look."
A sly grin made its way across her face, and she tapped a finger on her inner arm. "Oh, we're gonna have fun with this."
"You gonna cause trouble?" he asked, trying to sound stern.
She just laughed. "You're coming with?"
Etho sighed. Fondly. He missed her so much. "Wouldn't rather be anywhere else."
"You're a sap."
He laughed. "Love you too, Gem."
She scoffed, shoved his shoulder. "Let's go, you weirdo."
He took one last look around spawn. Of course, he didn't expect much. But now, he was pretty sure this season was about to be far more interesting.
"You coming, ice cube?"
He laughed, and chased after his sister into the forests of season eight.
--
thanks for reading! here's the ao3 link <3
68 notes
·
View notes