QSMP drabble, Phil & Etoiles & the code shield
/rp
“Phiiiil. You are ignoring me. Stop making blocks. Hit me with sticks instead.”
“Hey!” Phil barks. “Stop interrupting me. You don’t look away while you’re using a stonecutter. They’ll chop your fingers clean off.”
Etoiles stops his parkouring, intrigued. “Really?”
“Yes. The life of a builder is very exciting.”
Etoiles laughs. “I thought what the shield does is bad enough.”
He realizes his mistake a minute too slowly, as Phil’s expression changes. He considers lying some more, doubling down, but then he remembers that Phil is smart, maybe he’ll know something.
Hell, Phil could even end up bearing the shield himself at some point - if Etoiles dies, it’s who he’d think to bequeath it to. Phil should know the details.
“...Etoiles, what does the shield do?” Phil asks, after a moment, like he's caught him out, which to be fair, he has. His eyes are still locked on his handiwork. (God, Etoiles loves this guy.)
“It's not that bad. It makes my arm go numb. And code comes out.”
“...It makes your arm go numb and corrupt and you didn’t think you should stop using it.”
“No, no no no, listen, let me show you.” Phil stops working and stands up. Etoiles conjures the shield onto his arm. The static sets in instantly, like he's elbow-deep in another dimension, but it's not even strange anymore. “Hit me.”
Phil rolls his eyes. But he pulls out his best axe and takes a colossal swing at Etoiles, fuck yeah, that’s what Etoiles likes about him, that when Etoiles says to hit him, he’s not fucking around with a stick or an iron sword or whatever, he knows he can take it. That makes his point better too. Etoiles catches it on the shield, easily.
“Okay, look,” he says. “I haven’t moved.”
“Right, no Knockback - ”
“No, see, I haven’t moved at all. Look, I’m not even braced. I’m like - I’m like if a guy was just standing here!”
Phil snorts.
Etoiles goes on: “Normally if you swing a sword, I should stagger. Even if I’m braced, I’m still putting the force into the ground, so I should move a little. But when you hit this shield, I think it takes all that energy inbound and just deletes it. It’s gone. I think that’s the magic of the shield, that nothing can happen around it.”
Phil is looking at the edge of his sword. It’s an interesting question, actually, whether he’s lost durability or not, Etoiles hasn’t thought to grab someone and check -
“Okay, so how does that lead to your arm going numb? ...Oh, like you’re saying if it’s, fucking - ” Phil starts putting the pieces together.
“Yeah, it’s deleting the sensation.” Etoiles puts the shield away. “Yeah, look.” Sure enough, neon strings of raw data creep up and down his arm.
“WHOA!” Phil yells. Then he leans in, horrified and curious. “Jesus christ.” After watching the data pulse, he puts his fingers to the bridge of his nose and looks very dire indeed. “...And how sure are you that it isn’t deleting your data?”
“It goes away after a few minutes. And my arm is fine and nothing is missing.”
Phil relaxes a little. “Then where’s that data from?”
“I have two ideas. One is that it’s data from the hits, that the information the shield deletes comes back out like this. Or two, it’s data from inside the shield. The shield is broken and was put back together, you can see, so either way, I think maybe it wasn’t supposed to do this. It’s probably supposed to just cancel out from one side. But really, it’s no problem. I go back to normal afterwards. It’s like, uh, you know when you fall asleep on your arm?”
“...Yeah, yeah, okay.”
“It comes back.”
“Yeah. Sure. Okay. Does it do the, uh, the fucking, pins and needles thing too?”
“Yeah. Exactly. It’s exactly like that.”
Phil takes Etoiles’ hand to examine it. Etoiles can't look away. It’s still all static and Etoiles is almost glad except for how he wonders what it would feel like to die and he thinks that the more he felt this, Phil holding his hand tenderly and curiously, the closer he'd feel to death. He watches Phil bend his fingers, look between them to see where the code is. Numb, it's dreamlike and disconcerting.
“It was like this from the first time you used it?”
“No, it’s, uh, I didn’t notice at first.”
“So, it’s gotten worse over time.”
Son of a bitch. “Well Phil, when you say it like that, it makes me look bad.” Etoiles laughs.
“It’s not you.” Phil squeezes his fingers and Etoiles could swear he does feel that, the pressure, nerves deep down or something. It’s electric. “Look, I, uh - I get why you’re not stopping. The code wants to kill kids. And because of the shield and this busted-ass sword it got its hands on, now it’s just you. If I had that thing, no way in hell I’d be letting go of it. I mean, fuck.”
“Ohhh,” Etoiles sighs, “Thank god. I think if Baghera or Antoine see this, they’ll be like: you idiot, stop using it, it’s your own fault if you die.”
Phil smiles, thin, wry. “What do you tell them?”
“I don’t. I wait for it to go away before they see.”
“Shit, man.”
“Yeaaaaah.”
“...Well, that’s enough fuckin’ feelings. You want a stick fight? Maybe I'll get a win while you're distracted.”
“Yeaaaaah!”
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