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frozenjokes · 2 months

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Another Much Needed Follow Up About Love and Aromanticism, Where It’s Time We Cleared Things Up. Oh, And Mumbo Is Here Too.

this fic can be read on its own as a one shot, but I would recommend reading this first, as the context provides a little more insight on why the characters are reacting the way they do to each other

Over the course of a couple weeks very little changed. Mumbo spent the majority of his time planted in one place, anchored somewhat in the shallows so he could lift his head and listen to what the humans were doing on the days they came around. As much as it pained Mumbo to be so still so much of the time, it was a necessary evil if he ever wanted to heal, and he very much did. It didn’t matter how little he moved his tail at this point, anything he did would only result in his condition worsening.

If it wasn’t for Scar, he would have left a while ago. The humans didn’t come every day anymore, but they came often enough, and they certainly noticed Mumbo’s lack of activity. Grian tended towards keeping his distance, which didn’t bother Mumbo at all, but Scar really went out of his way to be there; sitting close (a gesture Mumbo was beginning to mind less), bringing him human trinkets to look at and play with (always exciting), but most importantly Scar brought food, and a lot of it at that; Mumbo wouldn’t have been able to stay without it. He often wondered where Scar got the many bags of fish he brought; it wasn’t all very fresh, so it was probably supplied from a human stockpile, but regardless, Mumbo was grateful. He wasn’t often in the best of moods and didn’t speak very much despite the fact he was sure Scar would have been ecstatic to talk with him, but he hoped regardless that Scar knew how deeply grateful he was.

Today, Scar and Grian were sitting on the shore together, shoulder to shoulder as they bent over one of their human activities. The first time Mumbo saw them drawing together, he had asked to see (saying ‘What’ over and over again seemed to have gained several different meanings over the weeks), but Scar had showed him that the paper they wrote on got ruined in the water, ripping easily, so it wasn’t something Mumbo could learn about personally. That was okay though, he was content to watch.

“Okay,” Scar began tapping the writing utensil (‘pencil’) to his lips, “Do we have anything to revise about the list this week? I don’t think very much new has happened.”

“Read it again, will you?”

“It’s right here in front of your face, do I really have to?”

“We’ve been over this Scar, I’m conditionally illiterate. Like right now, you got me up early and I’m tired and the words are so far away and I don’t want to. Also your handwriting is atrocious.”

“I’m tired too! It’s not my fault my fish guy needed me to show up at 6 AM.”

“You have a car, Scar. And a license.”

“Oh hey! Look at this cool list!” Scar directed Grian’s attention back to the paper, Grian only rolling his eyes before letting Scar continue. “Well, I won’t go into detail on my notes about what he eats because that’ll just bore you, but to put it simply, basically everything that’s got meat on it. Fish, shellfish, red meat, chicken, mostly just fish is what I’ve been giving him though, since I’m assuming that's what makes up most of his diet. Want to make sure he gets all the proper nutrients, you understand, you understand.”

“Uh huh.”

“As for ‘Likes,’ we’ve got fish, human stuff, Scar, Grian-”

“Scar first?” Grian cut his friend off with a raised eyebrow. Scar blinked several times before answering.

“What?”

“Scar, Grian. You put your name before mine.”

“Well this list wasn’t meant to be in order, but if it was, my name would absolutely go before yours.”

“What! No it wouldn’t. He likes us equally. Mumbo and I have a mutual understanding that we do not want to be anywhere near each other most of the time. We respect each other. From a distance.”

Scar smirked, throwing Mumbo an amused look as if he understood anything that was going on. “You know if you wanted to you could also bring him gifts and stuff. Nothing is stopping you. You could even bring him his fish if you wanted to, he wouldn’t know the difference. I wouldn’t care. There’s really nothing to be afraid of, especially now when he’s so docile like this.”

“I’m not afraid of Mumbo.”

“No?”

“If anything, he’s afraid of me, Scar. I got him in that net, I’ve gotten close to killing him a couple times- he knows it, Scar, he knows. He knows what’ll happen if he steps out of line, that’s what. I told him. I told him all about it.”

“Did you now,” Scar chuckled, nudging Grian playfully, “Well in that case, I’m definitely sure he likes me more. And I’m sure you’re perfectly content with being feared, but if you ever change your mind, I’d be happy to help.”

Grian huffed, “I won’t. Continue though.”

Scar lingered for a moment, a gentle fondness etched on his features before turning back to the paper, reading, “Well, he plays around with those vines and roots and things sometimes, he clearly is very curious, he likes to learn, and I think he likes birds, but he might just be staring at them because he wants to eat them. I put bugs in our ‘Neutral’ category since every time I try to give him a bug he just eats it, but I can’t tell if he just eats bugs or if he’s scared of them or something.”

“I highly doubt Mumbo is afraid of bugs. I doubt he cares.”

“Well, you never know! In ‘Dislikes’ we’ve got nets, sleeping bags, being touched, fighting- actually this isn't super related, but I really want to set up a Good and Bad system with him. A thumbs up thumbs down kind of situation. I was thinking about it all last night- we aren’t very good at communicating what we like or don’t like, and this feels like a good solution, but I’m not exactly sure how to tell him clearly what I’m trying to do. How would he know thumbs up means ‘good.’ And vice versa? Maybe bad would be easier to start with, but at the same time he kinda seems like a bite first ask questions later kinda guy.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea. Definitely start with thumbs up. With any luck he’ll understand that thumbs down is the opposite and you can go from there. I think you could probably associate the gesture with things Mumbo likes. The tape measure, fish- he knows smiling is a positive thing even if he doesn’t smile himself, and he knows what ‘yes’ means as well. With enough of that, I think he’ll grasp the meaning pretty quick.”

“I think so too,” Scar paused for a moment, thoughtful, “You know, this doesn’t just have to be a me effort. You could come and speak to him as well. He would know you’re putting in the effort if you wanted him to like you more.”

“He likes me plenty!” Grian switched from relaxed to exasperated on a dime, throwing up his hands as Scar laughed. “He likes me, Scar.”

“I know he likes you. But I also know he doesn’t have the full picture. He doesn’t know how much time you spend brainstorming how to teach him things, or how to relieve his stress, or worrying when he’s not feeling well. I just want him to know you aren’t as distant as he probably thinks, especially if it bothers you. If you wanted to get a little closer and help me with the ‘good’ and ‘bad’ gestures, that’d be a start.”

Grian was silent for a long time, brows creased tight above his eyes. “Maybe,” he said finally, almost quietly, “But not today. I’m too tired.”

“Yeah, me too,” Scar sighed, content, letting his head fall to rest on top of Grian’s, who squeaked, jumping so hard he accidentally jabbed at Scar’s chin with his shoulder. It must not have hurt though, because Scar didn’t seem to mind at all, unmoving. Slowly, Grian untensed, his head falling gently on Scar’s shoulder. Mumbo had a somewhat ridiculous pang of longing despite still holding a strong aversion to any human touch at all. They just looked so relaxed- anyone would wonder what it was like to be human. Though, while Scar closed his eyes, Grian didn’t quite look satisfied, something like conflict sitting across his features. He sat like that for a while, eyes moving, but not quite looking at anything at all, apparent restlessness building. Then he stopped. Closed his eyes. Opened them.

“Scar, are you aromantic or are you just fucking with me? Because I outright refuse to believe anyone is actually this clueless.”

Scar opened his eyes. Silence. “Uh oh.”

“Uh oh???” It was safe to say the two of them did not look relaxed anymore, Grian jerking away, “Scar, what does ‘uh oh’ mean. You can not just say ‘uh oh’ and nothing else.” Mumbo’s fins raised at the tone of his voice, but Mumbo cringed back when Grian whipped around to face him with an aggressive point. “No. You stay. Scar, I need you to say more right now.”

“I-Sleeping, I mean, we weren’t sleeping yet- but resting like- not friends? Not normal? Bdubs- I am going to strangle that man!”

“So you’re aromantic?” The words leapt off Grian’s tongue like an accusation, but he relaxed almost immediately after, sighing into his hands, “You’re aromantic. Okay. Good. Okay.”

“I- I mean I don’t love labels. I don’t really know, I don’t know much of anything at all, really. I’m sorry, Grian, I didn’t- did no one tell you I have a horrible track record for these things? Did you want me to ask you out? I still can.”

“Goodness, Scar, no! You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, you’ve just been sending incredibly mixed signals and I needed to know what was going on with you before my head exploded and my brains went all over the place and poor Mumbo would have to witness that and we don’t want that, do we? We don’t want that. This is fine, though, we just need to work out some boundaries.”

“What if I did want to though? To ask you out?”

Grian stared. Scar stared back.

“You do not want to.”

“I’ll have you know, I like you plenty a lot! I like you all sorts of ways, and if you also like me, then that’s cool! I’ll tell ya, when I had my little politics phase, my campaign manager was this great guy, Bdubs, we’re still friends, too, have you met him? Anyway, he’s a pretty touchy guy as well and he convinced me all sorts of things were totally normal friend stuff. Oh, we had this great cushy chair in our office and it was only really meant for one person, but sometimes we’d both be so tired and just squeeze into it and it wasn’t any sort of comfortable at all, but in a way it kinda was. Like inside. You know?”

“Scar, do you actually want to ask me out or are you just saying that because you think that’s what I wanted.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Not what I asked.”

“Well, Grian, it really doesn’t matter to me either way!” Scar gave Grian a big smile, like these words were the ones that would definitively solve their dispute, but the expression started to drop when Grian looked mortified. “Is..” Scar started, unsure now, “Something wrong?”

Mumbo had never seen such a wide range of emotions cross Grian’s face before his head dropped onto his knees with a soft thunk. “No. It’s fine.”

Scar stared for a long while, a gentle churning of thought moving behind his eyes. He relaxed, scooching to give Grian a little space before smiling again, the expression soft. “Can I tell you a story?”

“Sure, Scar.” Grian’s voice was muffled between his knees, and given his face was covered, Mumbo had no idea how he was feeling.

“So there was this one time in high school where I was good friends with this girl, and she was awesome, just the best, and we hung out like constantly, and y’know how people get sometimes all pushy asking about dating and stuff, but you also know high schoolers who can’t communicate if their life was on the line. So all my friends are like dude, you guys are literally dating, aren’t you? And I say no! I insist we’re not every time, I insist! Yes, we went out together often and we talked for hours and her family had some money troubles so a lot of the time I offered to pay, you know, normal stuff, it was normal, I promise, but one day I get this call, right? From one of her friends! And this girl just starts ripping into me, like, seriously! She’s telling me all this stuff I had no idea about- telling me my friend is so confused, that she doesn’t feel pretty around me, that I’m always trying to avoid intimacy- that I refused to kiss her! And I was like what, whoa there! No one has ever tried to kiss me! Why are we talking about kissing people? She thought we were dating, Grian.”

“I got that.”

“And then she dumped me! My first breakup, and I didn’t even know! I was kinda bummed, too, I had always kinda wanted to kiss someone, but I thought they’d tell me first! Y’know, that they wanted to. I would have been so ready! The worst part is I think my guy friends were trying to tell me we were dating, not just teasing me. They also thought it was funny though, so. Who knows.”

“Yeesh.”

“I know, right! And this other time in college there was this other girl- we had mutual friends and stuff and we were at a party and just absolutely wasted and she grabbed me by the collar and she said ‘SCAR,’ she yelled in my face, she said ‘I’ve been FLIRTING with you for WEEKS and YOU’VE been flirting BACK. ARE YOU GAY?’ And I said, drunk, ‘A little bit!’ And then we danced all night. It was awesome. She was so cool. That kinda stuff happened a lot in college, actually. Guys are a bit more direct, which I appreciate. I’m a little stupid, I need the extra help sometimes.”

Grian tensed where he was sitting, quiet for a short pause before speaking, “You’re not stupid, Scar.”

“I mean. A little bit.”

“No. You’re not stupid.”

Scar was silent for a long while, staring despite Grian’s head still being buried in his knees. “I don’t know about that.”

Grian lifted his head, shaking it ‘no.’ He blinked a couple times before shaking his head again, a little more forcefully. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. I shouldn’t have done that, I should’ve just talked to you like an adult and told you how I was feeling. Sometimes you’re just really confusing, and that’s not your fault, you just.. go about the world in a different way. And it’s not a bad way either, it’s not wrong. If people can’t communicate exactly how they’re feeling to you, that’s a them issue. You’re not stupid. I’m sorry I made you feel that way.”

“I didn’t mean to lead you on. I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know, Scar. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I really thought we had some sort of understanding- and I did mean it when I said we could give this a shot. I like dating, Grian, I always have a lot of fun! I can be- I know I can be- I have trouble sometimes, I just ruin good things-”

“Scar, stop, please. I don’t want anything you don’t want. Period.”

Scar didn’t seem to know what to do with that, staring uselessly at his own hands before looking back up. “I want it, Grian,” he stressed, his arms trembling, but Grian only stared, lips gently parted.

They both looked.. So sad. Mumbo longed to help, to sing, to do something, but he was stuck outside of their world.

Grian extended his arms. “C’mere, buddy.”

Scar collapsed into them, shaking as he did. Grian didn’t move, rubbing slow circles on Scar’s back while he cried. There was a certain focus behind Grian’s eyes, a certain calm as he held his friend close, and Mumbo.. well, it was clear Grian didn’t need Mumbo’s help. So that was the power of human touch.

He’d have to learn it one day.

#hermitcraft #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #grian #mumbo jumbo #hermitcraft fic #hermitshipping #scarian #desert duo #mumbomaid au #hermitfic

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frozenjokes · 2 months

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A Mermaid Learns English, Races Clams, And Breaks Up What Was Definitely A Vicious Human Fight

I’ve decided to post these ‘one shots’ on tumblr as well since y’all seemed to enjoy the last one

With the passing of a couple days, Mumbo was beginning to pick up on a few more human words. There was ‘Hey!’ to get Grian’s attention and ‘Look!’ to get Grian’s attention and ‘Clam!’ to get Grian’s attention, all of these words usually used in quick succession. However, Mumbo was most proud of figuring out the human pronoun. He. That’s what it was. Scar was a he and Grian was a he and they had both considered Mumbo a he, which was cute! It was like Mumbo was an honorary human with hes and hims just like them, how sweet! (And they were okay with that! Excited even! He was excited, yeah, look at that! He! Me!) How many other animals did they consider to also be human? Did humans even use separate pronouns for their own species and others? Maybe every animal was just a really big or really tiny human to them.

Regardless. After learning about human pronouns, Mumbo learned that Scar and Grian talked about him constantly. Constantly! They talked like Mumbo wasn’t there, even when he very much was, and he knew, because whenever they bothered to include Mumbo in their conversations about him, they would be looking directly at him. At first it was flattering, and then it was a little bit annoying, and currently it’s been quite frustrating! What are you squawking about? Tell me! Mumbo made sure to let them know how he felt. He got pushy, getting in their space (never closer than a few feet), but they didn’t seem to register that as aggression at all, in fact, Scar never looked anything less than delighted. Utterly confusing! Though, Scar in particular was quite physically affectionate with his human friend.. was that how humans always acted, or was something wrong with that one’s head. Grian didn’t seem to reciprocate very much, sometimes pushing the other off of him or simply doing nothing (looking generally displeased, though that’s how he always looked), but who knows! Humans were weird and apparently not very protective of their own space.

“Look! Look at that, Grian, he’s getting so comfortable with us! He gets closer every day, isn’t that great?” Scar waved his arms around carelessly, and Mumbo had to shimmy back to avoid being touched.

“I don’t know about that. Can’t tell. He doesn’t emote very much, does he?”

‘Will you two quit talking about me.’ That got their attention, whistling clicks always did, but when they didn’t hear a word they recognized (their names), they just stared before going back to chatting with each other. Fine. Be that way, then. Mumbo was hungry anyway.

So he left, trying to throw in a bit of petty flair, but Mumbo didn’t have to look back to know the gesture went over their heads. Given the splint still holding his sore tail in place, Mumbo doubted a mermaid would have understood either. Ugh. Hunting was going to take ages like this.

And it did.

Mumbo spent an hour in deeper water getting batted around by currents and the like, but chasing fish as he usually did had been out of the question since getting stuck in Grian’s net. So he had to wait. Wait for fish to come to him.

Mumbo was not very good at waiting.

It wasn’t that he was an impatient person. He could be plenty patient when he needed to be, but Mumbo was also a fidgety mer, and typically fish aren’t too keen on swimming very close to the visibly hungry big thing with sharp teeth.

He did not get many fish today. He did not get many fish yesterday. He did not get many fish all week. Maybe there was a reason he was starting to get so irritable.

Regardless, Mumbo wasn’t too worried about starving or even losing all that much weight; if he was really having problems he would just have to take a detour back home to the deep and get fixed up. He could go today if he wanted. But he didn’t, not really. The humans would miss him! They would wonder where he had gone. (Not that Mumbo would be thinking of them as well, worried about what they were getting up to. But humans were so fragile, and these two in particular seemed to have impaired survival instincts. What if Mumbo left, came back, and they were gone? What if he never saw them again?) Needless to say, Mumbo was only going hungry for normal, sane reasons. Maybe he could steal some of the humans’ food, though, they hardly ate anything at all. Wouldn’t be worth the grief.

When Mumbo returned, hungry and irritated about still being hungry, Scar was looking for clams. That seemed to be his favorite activity, sifting through the sand, digging up clams, piling them up, then at the end of day, scattering them back in the sand. Today, Scar was lining up his clams on the shore, letting them sit in the sun for whatever reason. Mumbo wondered if he ever planned on eating them, or if the clams were just toys to humans. Maybe Scar didn’t understand how to get inside them? Mumbo snorted, bubbles floating to the surface. Humans probably thought the clams would just open up for them if they waited long enough.

But not even his sour mood could withstand Scar’s bright smile as the human spotted Mumbo returning; its entire body lit up, every single encounter met with the same excitement as the first time it saw him. Sure, Mumbo was more easily flattered than most mermaids he knew, but anyone would break under the weight of that joy. Was Scar that excited to see everyone, or was it just him? He hoped Scar knew he felt similarly. He wished he could tell him.

Scar’s attention quickly shifted back to the sand though, bending over to sift through with a hand then plucking a clam out of the water. “Oooh this is a big one!”

Across the water, sitting on a rocky outcrop, Grian rolled his eyes. “Pretty sure you’ve shown me that same clam every day since you first got here.”

“It’s big though!”

“It is pretty big.”

“Do you think she’ll win?”

“The- did you finally remember to bring nail polish? And I don’t know, I’ll have to take a look at all of them before I decide.” Grian went back to fishing (and Mumbo was keeping a closer eye than he’d like to admit on the line), but Scar seemed satisfied, taking his bounty to the shore to line it up with the ten or so other clams.

“Well you’d better get ready, because our athletes are all lined up! They’re revving to go, Grian! You should look before they speed away! They’re chomping at the bit I tell you, they’re gonna run right away if you don’t come and look right now.”

Grian made a small noise of assent, not moving. “I'm in no rush.” He re-cast his line.

Scar huffed, trotting to his bag (which Mumbo couldn’t help but notice was placed very far from the shore, what was up with that anyway? Did they not trust him? They could trust him. Come on, no harm in putting them a little closer to the water..) and producing a small vial. Mumbo dragged himself a little closer to inspect it as Scar sat back with his clams. It smelled weird.

“What,” Mumbo said in human, another very useful word he’d learned, and Scar smiled, unscrewing the top.

“We paint our..” he paused, thinking, before gesturing to his dull claws, “Nails.” With the brush attached to the cap, he drew some of the brightly colored liquid inside across one of his ‘nails’, coloring it. Huh. So humans painted their skin just like mermaids did sometimes, very interesting. Unfortunately, Mumbo didn’t have the materials to show him. Scar examined his hand thoughtfully when he finished, throwing Mumbo a soft smile. “This won’t last. I’ll save it for the clams.”

With great care, Scar began to examine his clams one by one, picking them up and spinning them in his hands, saying something about names to Grian, then painting little symbols on the shells once they were dry enough. But why? Mumbo got the sense Scar was preparing them for something- to eat, maybe? Mumbo have never actually seen either human prepare any food; they seemed to bring pre-hunted meals with them every day. Was this.. part of the process..? Why in the world would they name their food?

Well. It was possible Scar wasn’t trying to eat and Mumbo was just thinking about food due to his own hunger. But then what was the point!

Apparently, the painting activity piqued Grian’s interest despite his previous dismissal, a common trend for that human it seemed. Despite holding a somewhat stubborn facade of disinterest, he was quick to contribute a name, and eventually, stopped fishing altogether to check out what Scar was working on.

“This one will be Jellie, the cutest, prettiest, fastest clam,” Scar said, practically shoving one of the clams in Grian’s face. Mumbo couldn’t quite make out the symbol painted on it, (none of the human symbols meant anything to him) but Grian seemed to understand, reaching insistently for the paint in Scar’s other hand. Scar held it out of reach, leaning away, but not without a smile on his face. “What? You don’t like Jellie?”

“Let me make one.”

“I thought you didn’t care about clam racing,” Scar grinned as he shoved back, Grian stumbling a bit in the sand before scrambling back to Scar, throwing himself across the other’s arms in a way that made Mumbo’s fins stand on end. What were they doing? Why were they fighting? Was it about food?

“You can’t put Jellie in the race without Maui and Pearl. At least one of them! I want to draw them.”

“There’s only so many slots for the race, Grian. I’m afraid your cats didn’t make the cut, very sorry, very very sorry.”

“You haven’t even painted all of them yet!” Grian said, in a tone that could have been a growl, though Mumbo had never heard a human make that noise before. Grian pushed at Scar’s face, and Scar laughed(?) hurriedly trying to cap the paint before he dropped it. Grian climbed onto Scar’s back, but as soon as the paint was secure, Scar fell backwards, howling as he crushed Grian in the sand behind him. Grian squeaked, the breath knocked from him, but it wasn’t long before he was squabbling under Scar’s weight, clawing and pushing and being very loud in tones that made Mumbo’s skin crawl. He had to stop them somehow- they were going to hurt each other!

Mumbo tried whistling, ‘Stop, stop, stop,’ but they were too preoccupied in their wrestling, Scar yelping as Grian poked at his eyes. He meant to call their names, but his voice wouldn’t form the human words, even names, the sounds refusing to materialize on his tongue. The humans were close to the water, close enough to splash maybe, but Mumbo’s use of his tail was so limited with his splint and the water was so shallow. Who knew if he’d even be able to kick up enough water to distract them, or if they would even stop? If he was going to hurt himself, better to make sure it counted for something.

Mumbo closed his eyes, bracing himself before heaving out of the water and grabbing Scar’s arms with his hands and a shoulder in his jaws, yanking backward. Two things were immediately clear; one, Mumbo failed to remember how small and weak and light-weight humans were, and two, their skin was so fragile. All this to say, Mumbo was thoroughly stunned at how far back he pulled Scar, and even more alarmed to taste blood, the shock at both of these two things overpowering even the electric pain in his tail. Scar yelled and Grian shrieked, and suddenly everything was just too frightening and overwhelming and Mumbo needed to be away, away, instinct so strong, he pushed away with a strong flick of his tail despite the splints, agony shooting up his body. But in a way, that was okay. He was gone. All he needed was to be gone.

But being alone and safe from the noise gave way to thought, and in a way, that was worse.

He felt bad. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t even know if he had hurt Scar, or how badly- he hadn’t meant to! He didn’t want anyone to get hurt at all! Mumbo buried his face in his arms, hiding from the sunlit surface. Mermaid fights were nasty things, and it usually took multiple sets of teeth to dislodge one mer from another, not to injure of course, just to hurt enough to get them to see sense and release each other, which, honestly, was a hassle in it of itself; mermaids with long tails could get all sorts of tangled. Why was human skin so thin! Were they built to die!?

Distantly, Mumbo heard the humans talking. Grian was saying Scar’s name an awful lot, loud as he always was, and it sounded like they were arguing even more than before. Mumbo buried his face deeper into his arms. He hadn’t even made a difference.

Then, splashing. A lot of splashing, both humans by the sound of it, but the second source quickly stopped short at one, big splash and- oh.

Mumbo lifted his head, and there was Scar, swimming directly toward him. There was a definite bite mark in his shoulder, still bleeding, but it didn’t seem to be bothering him at all, the human still swimming strongly. Mumbo put his head back in the sand.

“Mumbo! Hey, Mumbo!” The words were barely recognizable under the water, but Mumbo didn’t care to hear them anyway. He didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to move. Everything hurt and he was hungry and all he did was make everything worse. Humoring the human with zero survival instincts wasn’t going to make him feel any better. The human lingered regardless, though mercifully kept its distance. It got air several times before finally realizing Mumbo didn’t want to talk and eventually, after what felt like ages, it left him alone. The lack of disturbance in the water was a sensory relief. Still, he heard the humans talking above the water.

“Still think he was trying to kill me, Grian? Seriously. He feels awful, the poor thing. We probably set him off or something, I don’t know. Like how some animals can’t tell the difference when we raise our voices playfully or because we’re mad.”

Grian took a long time to respond, but when he did, his voice was stony, “That was extremely stupid, Scar.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“You don’t know what he was thinking. You don’t know! Sometimes it feels like I’m the only person here who gives a shit about your life. That’s not a person, Scar, that is an animal, an animal that has been documented as something that eats people. I don’t care if he ‘looks sad,’ personifying him like that directly after he attacks you is going to get you killed. Even if he is ‘sad,’ jumping right in after him is an objectively insane thing to do! You could have set him off a second time and there would have been nothing either of us could do. I- Honestly, Scar, I really shouldn’t be having to tell you this! You know this! You own a god damn zoo!”

“I don’t agree.”

“What do you mean you don’t agree? What about?”

“I think he’s a person. And I think we have the opportunity to do something really special here, so I’m not going to throw it away over a dumb misunderstanding.”

Another pause from Grian, longer this time. “Scar.” Scar didn’t say anything and Grian didn’t either for a while, long enough that Mumbo thought the conversation was over. It wasn’t though, apparently. “Can’t you wait? Wait until he comes back to us? We’d know he’s calm at least, safe.”

“No. He might be flighty and I really don’t want to scare him off from this. I just have to make sure he knows we’re good.” Another pause, but Mumbo got the impression it was more from a lack of things to say. It didn’t last long though, Grian breaking the silence after a bit of shuffling.

“Hey- what are you doing, Scar you can’t- those are my fish.”

“How much do you sell these ones for? I’ll pay a better rate.”

“No. No, absolutely not. No. This is the bad idea to trump all bad ideas, I am not going to let you throw away your life trying to feed- Scar, come on, I’m trying to work with you here and you’re being impossible!”

“I won’t take them if you say no.”

“I’m saying no! I’m saying no, Scar, I’m saying no so stop- stop looking at me like that.”

“This whole thing means a lot to me, Grian, I just want to preserve it.”

“Well you mean a lot to me and you don’t seem to care at all! How can you just stand here and be okay with throwing your life away- do the people that love you mean nothing to you? Do you even think about it? I think about it! It drives me crazy when you just-“ Grian made a strangled noise, “Don’t! Think!”

More silence, the heaviness permeating the water as much as the air.

“I won’t go in. I just need a fish. The smallest one you got.”

“You won’t go in?”

“I won’t go in. I promise. And I’ll pay for it, I mean it. I’ll pay for everything you caught today if this works out.”

If Grian said something, Mumbo didn’t hear it, only hearing the muffled shuffling of above-water activity that went on for ages. Eventually, he heard the telltale splash of Grian’s lure from the other side of the cove. The whir of the reel was nice; a soft white noise.

Not so nice was the massive splash right above his head, frightening Mumbo off the sand in a cloud of dust, frantically looking around for the source of the noise. He smelled the blood before he saw the fish, eyes widening at the sight of it. Certainly dead, but also fresh, the kill just about as clean as it gets; if Mumbo had found this in the wild, he would have assumed it had been sick and avoided it, but the little gash in its face was a clear enough indicator on how this was caught. The rock tied crudely to its tail with fishing line was a bit of a clearer sign of human intervention.

After calming his racing heart, Mumbo drifted over to inspect it, somewhat painfully aware of Scar’s eyes on him from the shore. Was this a gift? Mumbo touched the fish gingerly, then flinched back. It was cold. Why was it so cold? Did humans have some sort of cooling ability Mumbo didn’t know about? He was pretty sure he’d have heard about a thing like that. Hunger stopped that train of thought. The fish was a small thing, not much in the scheme of things, but right now Mumbo would take anything. After a short inspection (and removing the rock), Mumbo devoured the whole thing, pleased.

Maybe this was okay. Scar clearly wanted Mumbo to know he wasn’t angry, and while he still wasn’t sure about Grian, maybe there was something proactive he could do about it.

Mumbo didn’t even surface before swimming deeper, straining with his injured tail. His foray onto land might have broken his splint; it sat uncomfortably now at the sides of his already throbbing scales, but there was nothing Mumbo could do about it now. That would have to be a later fix.

As much as his tail hurt, Mumbo really wanted to catch something fast, and at this point, it was sort of feeling like he was already going to be in pain for awhile, so why not make this hunt quick. He didn’t go deep, hardly much deeper than Grian’s fishing lines, but deep enough to catch an alright sized fish if he could push through the pain enough to chase it properly. He was still patient; Mumbo wasn’t about to swim after every fish he saw, but in the end he did end up giving chase more than intended, and by the time he had something suitable, his entire body felt like it was on fire. But that was okay. Now he could deliver his own peace offering.

And it was a good thing he surfaced when he did; Mumbo had gotten a bit worried when he stopped hearing Grian’s lure, and it turned out that was because the two humans were getting ready to leave. Alright. Fine, good even.

As much as he longed to eat the fish he had caught, Mumbo still dropped it to whistle, ‘Scars,’ and both humans turned around, surprise coloring their faces. Not a particularly bad emotion, Mumbo hoped. He brought his fish to the shallows, wincing heavily as his tail touched the sand, the splint hanging off and bumping it in increasingly uncomfortable ways.

“Oh! Mumbo, you shouldn’t have, really!” Scar met Mumbo near the water, and while Grian hesitated, he joined his fellow human, though lingered a little further back. Mumbo dropped his fish, though Scar didn’t take it, only looking to Grian, “Can you use that?”

Grian grimaced, “No, probably not. I mean, I’m sure we could eat it, but it’s a bit mutilated. I definitely can’t sell it.”

Scar nodded, turning back to Mumbo, “You keep it. Unless you’re not hungry, but I feel like I barely ever see you eat. I guess you don’t really know what I’m saying, I’m probably just confusing you by talking this much, aren’t I.” Mumbo stared. Scar stared back. Why wasn’t he taking it?

Mumbo craned his neck forward, straining to grab the fish again to drop it closer. Moving across the sand felt like dragging himself across magma, and he couldn’t help the small hiss that escaped through his gritted teeth. When he managed to open his eyes, Scar’s head was cocked to the side, and he still hadn’t taken the fish.

“I think he’s hurt,” Scar said, soft and sympathetic, “Whatever’s attached to his tail looks kinda broken, doesn’t it?”

“I’m sure he is, he’s been swimming oddly all week, and a couple weeks before is when he got caught in my net and bit me. He was really tangled, I think his tail was at a bit of an odd angle. I think whatever’s attached is a splint to keep it somewhat still- did you not think so?”

“No??”

“What did you think was on his tail?”

“I don’t know! I thought it was like- mermaid fashion? How was I supposed to know!”

“I thought that was a joke!”

‘Will one of you just take the damn fish!’ Mumbo whistled, irritated by the bickering and quite honestly, a little concerned they were going to start fighting again. Thankfully, the humans stopped, both staring at Mumbo again with wide eyes.

“I think he wants you to take the fish, Scar.”

“I don’t want the fish! I want him to have it!”

“Well right now he probably feels like you don’t like his gift. Does the bloody mess in the water not appeal to you?”

“You know I’ve seen worse.”

“Then take it!”

Scar frowned, bending over to gingerly touch the fish, though he didn’t look like he was all too thrilled about it. Did humans.. not eat fish? They must, surely they must, humans fish all the time! But the way Scar was holding the fish away from his body, touching it with as little of his hand as possible, Mumbo was really starting to think they didn’t eat fish. Why were humans so weird? Though, Grian seemed to be laughing at his friend, so maybe Scar was the weird one. Mumbo wouldn’t be surprised.

“I want you to have this,” Scar said, slowly extending his arm back toward Mumbo, and Grian seemed to find it extra funny when Mumbo huffed, but ultimately accepted the returned gift. Whatever. He was still hungry and had absolutely zero intention of letting this go to waste.

And.. that was that.

Mumbo retreated to deeper water where his tail felt a little less like his scales were going to peel off his skin, and the humans left soon after, the clearing returning back to its tranquil quiet. Not a great day, definitely not, but maybe that was just part of learning. Interspecies relations were never going to be easy with all the different customs and body language. Mumbo had little idea how Scar and Grian were feeling most of the time, and honestly, no matter how stressful they could be, he was grateful they were so expressive. Gosh, reading him must be a nightmare; mermaids didn’t emote nearly as much. Mumbo had tried copying some human expressions on his own time, but he was pretty sure he physically couldn’t, just lacking the facial muscles. Strange. Strange..

But good too. This was still good. And as much as Mumbo really should be headed back home for more help with his tail, right now, there was still no place he’d rather be than here.

#hermitcraft #gtws #grian #goodtimeswithscar #mumbo jumbo #hermitcraft fic #mumbomaid au #hermitfic

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frozenjokes · 22 days

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can not draw or function but someone on one of the mumbo mermaid fic chapters said oohh I bet Etho is a secret mermaid that has a human form somehow! And that was not the plan. That was not even a little bit the plan. But the idea is so fucking good the plan has changed.

Etho is a mermaid who strayed too close to the surface during a fierce storm, getting caught up in the currents and unable to escape before he was thrown against an outcrop of spiked rocks off the coast of a small island. These rocks would have super killed him, but luckily, Joel is there to curse him forever save his life! In this AU most everyone is human and there were no planned magical elements (mermaids are just one of many other species that be chilling on earth) but I’ve made an exception for Joel, who is a silly little witch guy. Complete recluse. Prays of the downfall of others. Stands out in thunderstorms wondering if any boats are going to crash into his Island Of Doom so he can laugh at them.

So Joel finds Etho and goes whoa! sick! a mermaid and not a dead one this time! Better make sure he stays that way! And hauls him back to his little swamp cottage somehow (yeah) and with the help of magic saves Etho’s life, only leaving a scar that starts at his forehead and goes basically alllll the way down his tail like snowtuft from warrior cats. however. Before saving his life Joel has Etho, delirious from blood loss, make a pact with him, one that is just basically like. Heyyyyy what if I bound our souls together after you’re all fixed up so *I* can also be a mermaid because that’s sick as fuck!!

and basically at the end of this all, Joel creates some sort of pendant that allows the two of them to switch forms, except Etho gets zero say on whether he’s mermaid or human, and it is entirely up to Joel’s whims. Despite the Everything, they manage to get along well enough, and Joel (with the help of some magic) helps to teach Etho English and other important things that will help him out if he ever decides to leave the island. Which he does! Humans are kinda sick and Etho wants to know more about the world!

However, given that mermaids are Extremely Rare and humans are Assholes, Etho can’t just tell people what he actually because they’re probably trying to kill his ass and sell his parts for shitloads of money.

Fast forward.. Bdubs gets an eccentric roommate!

I haven’t worked out exactly how they meet but Bdubs definitely peels Etho up off the street or something because Joel, being who he is, doesn’t know jack shit about how to prepare a Not Human for human culture, but that’s okay because Etho gets lucky!

Etho and Joel have a system of sending each other detailed schedules so Etho can be ready when Joel needs his legs, but Often Enough, Joel will decided to switch with VERY LITTLE WARNING, and Etho will have thirty minutes (the change is not instant) to find a body of water or a bathtub to Park himself until Joel finishes whatever it is he needed to do.

Bdubs found out very quickly that he and Etho could not have one shared bathroom. Etho refuses to tell him why he has locked himself in and when asked how long he’s going to be, the answer ranges from an hour to multiple days. Bdubs has stopped asking questions. Cleo and Scar, on the other hand, are extremely fucking baffled by Etho all of the time. They make up conspiracy theories about him. None of them are ‘Etho is a secret mermaid.’

anyway I love the clockers‼️

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft fic #etho #ethoslab #joel smallishbeans #smallishbeans #boat boys #the clockers #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #zombiecleo #mumbomaid au

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frozenjokes · 17 days

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Etho Really Should Explain Literally Anything To Mumbo, But It’s A Long Story And He Can’t Be Bothered

Mermaids weren’t very loud creatures, not at all. They could be when they wanted; the purpose of song was to be heard after all, but song was a deliberate action, to hunt, to heal, to love.

A mermaid in distress was not loud, per se. Not like humans; yelling, whining, flailing about, no, nothing purposeful, but they did stand out with too-frequent click, click, clicks of a soul that was very lost, that didn’t feel grounded in their environment.

And it wasn’t always obvious, not in the deep. Everyone was clicking all of the time in the deep, the soft rhythm of home. To navigate, to gauge how another was feeling, to keep from running into rocks or homes or gardens or each other- well, they still ran into each other quite a bit, but the point stands.

In places with less mermaids however, it was very obvious when someone was struggling, and this close to the surface, Mumbo could hear telltale mermaid clicks from a mile away. Nine times out of ten, if a mermaid was near the surface Mumbo would be surprised if they weren’t lost, so he kicked away from the gentle current he was riding and made toward the noise.

The clicking heightened as Mumbo neared, then slowed, recognition of another presence. Mumbo was close enough to sense the rapid movement of fins with his own clicks; up and down, up and down, but with unadjusted eyes from spending so long in the deep, he still couldn’t quite see them. Regardless, it was clear that this mermaid was apprehensive about his approach, so he slowed his pace, hoping the stranger would understand he was friendly.

‘Do you need help?’ Mumbo whistled once in earshot, keeping a healthy distance. There was something unnerving about this mermaid that kept him on edge, kept his fins twitching. He just couldn’t- see them. Now, again, he couldn’t see much of anything, but he could understand shapes, especially ones as big as him. And Mumbo knew where the stranger should be; they weren’t exactly moving much and clicking was an accurate measurement of space, but there was no dark blob where he expected one to be. Mumbo squinted, but it was no use.

‘Need to go to the surface. Urgent. Got swept away by the storm,’ the mermaid answered after an uncomfortable pause, and that was odd too. Why were they speaking so stilted? And why did they wait so long to answer? But then Mumbo processed the words, and excitement swallowed his apprehension. The surface? Did this mermaid like to visit the surface as well?

‘That’s where I’m going! I’ll take you.’ Mumbo couldn’t help the soft trill that rose behind his words, diving a little closer as curiosity got the better of him. The stranger’s fins flared briefly, surprise, and Mumbo gave a few amused clicks in return.

‘Really?’ they said, the lilt of the word higher than it should’ve been; a quite endearing expression of excitement, or maybe surprise? Entirely odd- mermaids didn’t usually express themselves in that way. Mumbo wondered where this one was from. ‘Can you take me-’ the mermaid stopped suddenly, frustration twitching through their fins before they flicked their tail, a silent ‘nevermind.’

‘I know a safe place,’ Mumbo tried, hoping that would sate them. Did this mermaid travel the surface or something? Did they name different places they’d explored? Oh, Mumbo longed to know more. ‘Call me Mumbo?’

‘Anywhere there’s land is fine. Call me Ghost’

Ghost! Goodness! ‘Do they call you that because you’re invisible?’ The words were out of his mouth before Mumbo could help himself, but Ghost didn’t seem to mind, an amused chirp bubbling forward.

‘You’ve been deep for a while?’

Mumbo drew into himself in a gentle show of embarrassment. ‘Yes. I like to visit the surface often, but couldn’t for some time. Bad injury. This is my first time back since then.’

Ghost closed the rest of the distance between them, and Mumbo started to see a shape through the water, though not concretely. ‘I’m light colored, different. I won’t stand out where there’s so much sun, not like you do.’ And there was that higher lilt again, almost distorting Ghost’s words to the point of changing their meaning. Why were they doing that? Mumbo could tell their amusement from their body language; was this like- double amused? Maybe it wasn’t amusement at all- Mumbo probably shouldn’t be applying human habits to mermaids, but that was just it. It sounded so human. Had Ghost spent a lot of time around them?

Mumbo didn’t get the chance to ask. Ghost stilled for a moment, a distinctly unnatural, tense movement, before a horrible wheezing sound left their throat, gills flaring so wide Mumbo could sense the spasming through his own distressed clicks, clicking which grew in rapid, panicked frequency. What- What was happening? Ghost made a horrible choking sound, bubbles trailing through their teeth, and Mumbo pressed a frightened hand to their chest, desperate to figure out what was wrong with their gills.

Ghost’s tail whipped against Mumbo’s own in a bruising slam, propelling the other out of reach, but Mumbo couldn’t help but follow closely, unable to understand and longing to help- but how could he? It- it sounded like Ghost was drowning.

And then it stopped. As suddenly as they’d stopped breathing, Ghost started again like nothing was wrong. Like they were just fine.

‘Sorry about that,’ Ghost clicked, fins frighteningly calm for what must have been a terrifying experience. Mumbo’s own fins were flat against his back, wary and afraid, but Ghost didn’t seem the least bit bothered, if anything, just looking a little annoyed. ‘It’s urgent I get to the surface.’

They didn’t elaborate further, and Mumbo couldn’t do much else but stare, a cross between utterly perplexed and extraordinarily frightened. He wanted to ask further, but maybe this was a personal issue-? It would be rude to probe about this mermaid’s health, surely. Maybe it had something to do with their light scales? What if light scaled mermaids needed sunlight to survive? Whatever the case, Mumbo took ‘urgent’ seriously this time, kicking off on a swift pace toward the surface, and was relieved to hear Ghost following close behind.

To Mumbo’s great distress, Ghost had another ‘drowning attack’ around thirty minutes later before they reached the outlet into the river, but they didn’t seem too bothered, so Mumbo tried (and failed) not to worry as well, simply hoping that once they made it to the lake cove, everything would be fine. Honestly, it was a little unnerving how relaxed Ghost was acting for a mer who sounded like they were dying a minute ago (and potentially on a regular basis?), but maybe Mumbo was misreading them. After all, they did have a couple odd mannerisms, and with the sun so bright this close to open air, Mumbo was just as blind as he was in the deep.

He’d forgotten how much the sun hurt when he was away for so long; a real shame, since he had really been looking forward to seeing Ghost. In all fairness, Mumbo hadn’t actually seen many mermaids at all, but for the most part their scales were dark and inky, with traces of color along their fins from a time when mermaids lived in places the light could reach. The idea of a pale colored mermaid was fascinating, and Mumbo was quite keen on seeing them with adjusted eyes.

As the two of them swam down the channel, Mumbo’s thoughts drifted to his humans, a gentle ache in his chest as he wondered if he would ever see them again. He was gone for so long, what if they didn’t think he was coming back? Did they still think about him? Oh, he hoped they were doing well. Grian hadn’t been in a good state.. Mumbo only hoped he’d made the right choice by leaving.

He stopped short as he remembered Ghost; even though Mumbo would be shocked to see his humans at the cove, he should probably give them a heads up regardless.

‘A warning,’ he whistled, and continued when Ghost flicked their fins as an indication they heard, ‘Humans visit my place sometimes. It has been a long time since I’ve been up, and they come to see me, so I doubt they’ll be around, but I thought you should know. They are friendly, in any case. Nothing to worry about.’

Ghost clicked to themself, an indication of quiet thought, though Mumbo was relieved that they didn’t seem too alarmed. ‘Should be out of there before that becomes a problem,’ they mused, ‘But you should be careful. Humans are greedy things. Take advantage of nice mers like you.’

‘No, no, not these. They want to learn about me. I want to learn about them. They’re sweet, they took care of me when my tail was broken. Well. They tried. I’ve brought them back a few things from the deep to show them if they ever return.’

Ghost hummed to themself in quiet thought before whistling, ‘Sentimental,’ and Mumbo wasn’t quite sure if they were referring to him or the humans. Probably true either way.

‘They’re nothing to worry about.’

‘Either way, I’ll be gone.’ Ghost gave a dismissive flick of their fins, and Mumbo pushed away disappointment. He figured if Ghost explored the surface, they’d surely met or at least seen a handful of humans, but they didn’t seem to care at all. Maybe humans were just another animal to Ghost, nothing to write home about. Mumbo couldn’t imagine being so disinterested. Humans made tools- they were engineers! Mumbo couldn’t think of a species more fascinating if he tried.

Regardless, he took them through the inlet that led to the lake, hoping if it was sun that Ghost needed, they would get plenty of it here. It wasn’t easy to keep track of Ghost’s breathing, not when Mumbo couldn’t see, but he did his best to listen, even if Ghost didn’t seem to want any assistance. Mumbo couldn’t help himself. How could anyone? At the very least, if Ghost did start drowning(?) again, they were in shallow enough water that they could surface for air.

Relief swamped Mumbo when they finally broke through to the lake, especially when behind him, it seemed like Ghost was beginning to breathe a bit more shallowly. Mumbo had planned on scouting ahead for his humans, just in case, but Ghost didn’t give him the chance, tearing ahead toward the beach in what Mumbo hoped was excitement.

It was a beautiful day, the water warm in Mumbo’s pleasant little alcove, and just being here after so long lifted his mood, a soft, sighing trill leaving his throat as his tail brushed the sandy shallows. Ghost had already fixed themself at the shore, head almost completely out of the water as they sprawled, fins waving contentedly. Maybe it really was sunlight they needed; Mumbo would be hard pressed to remember a mermaid in his past that looked more relaxed. And they seemed to be breathing well too, perfect.

‘This is a good place, very good,’ Ghost said, though there was something breathy about the whistle, like it wasn’t quite coming out right, ‘I can see where your humans come in and out. That will make things easier for me.’

‘The brush is still pretty flattened, isn’t it,’ Mumbo spoke with a wistful glance toward the path emerging from the woods, though it was far more overgrown than before. Mumbo’s stomach churned as he stared, anxiety hiking up in his chest. It really did look like it had been a while since anyone came through. He blinked, fins flicking as he processed the rest of what Ghost had said. ‘How do you mean?’

Ghost gave a non-committal flick of their tail, the end splashing lazily as it landed back in the water, ‘Don’t worry about it. Long story. Impatient, stupid friend.’ Ghost’s fins twitched irritably at the last sentiment, and kept twitching long after, their mood seeming to sour.

Mumbo would have loved to hear; he had plenty of time after all, but Ghost didn’t look like they wanted to share, so he left well enough alone, leaving them in the shallows to check on his roots and vines. Oh, everything had grown so much! Instantly he was preoccupied, meticulously combing through every plant, pulling up the longest, sturdiest strands, and placing them lengthwise on the shore. Mumbo didn’t know what he was going to do with this yet, but he was sure he could make some really sturdy rope- oh, he was so excited! Ghost seemed to be amused by his antics, keeping a curious eye on Mumbo’s activity. They didn’t ask any questions, a shame since Mumbo would have loved to chat, but oh well, not all mermaids were talkative. He appreciated the company regardless.

Mumbo worked in silence for a good while, humming to himself as he got into a groove. Through squinted eyes, he found a few wildflowers near the shore, and wondered if his humans would like them or if Ghost valued pretty things like he did. Mumbo pulled himself up the short ledge to get a better look, embarking on a grand distraction that took him some ways from the water’s edge in search of different flowers. Mumbo loved color, and he loved finding new colors. Things could get so dull in the water, even outside of the deep, but everything on the surface was so vibrant!

The first few times he had ventured out of the deep, he’d spent hours and hours just looking at himself, the reds and pinks shimmering through his fins so bright and beautiful, especially above the water. In low light, his fins were as black as the rest of his scales, so seeing the sun hit them for the first time was a delightful surprise. If only he didn’t have to wait so long to see the world properly. Truly, the best thing about spending all those weeks on the surface, even injured, was taking in the environment, the color, the everything. There was truly nothing like it in the deep.

Speaking of not being able to see, after accidentally crushing a few flowers, Mumbo forced himself to retreat back to the water. Blind mermaids didn’t get nice things, not after killing a bunch of them.

But after the rippling sound of Mumbo’s re-entrance into the lake subsided, ragged, strained breathing replaced the noise, filling the quiet with Ghost’s sick struggling. Mumbo was at their side in an instant, his fear-raised fins contrasting Ghost’s own, flat against their body and quivering gently. Mumbo’s eyes had adjusted enough to see their pale form, truly devoid of almost all color apart from splotches of salmon pink that painted their fins and skin. Mumbo squinted, alarm lighting his veins when he couldn’t find Ghost’s gills.

‘Space, please. I’m fine,’ they said, extraordinarily unconvincingly, ‘Impatient, stupid friend on their way. Very stupid. Very impatient. Will be here soon. You might want to leave until they’re gone.’ Their whistles and clicks were quiet and weak, similar to the brief moment from before, but much worse, like Ghost was struggling to speak at all.

‘You’re dying. I’m not leaving.’

‘I’m not dying.’

‘You’re dying!’

‘This is normal.’

‘It most certainly is not!’

Ghost hissed pointedly, fins slapping the water with how hard Ghost was flicking them. Incredibly rude, honestly, but given the circumstances, Mumbo was willing to forget it. He just wished this mer wasn’t so damn stubborn.

‘Stupid friend is poor company. Go away.’ Ghost bared their teeth briefly, and Mumbo’s tail tip lashed, splashing in the shallow water. He backed up, giving the requested space, but did not leave. Ghost huffed, but did not try to send him away again.

Mumbo shifted his attention to helping instead, on singing some sort of comfort (a gesture which seemed to annoy Ghost; Mumbo really couldn’t win with this mer, could he), and doing whatever he could that wouldn’t end with him being hissed at. Which is to say, not much. Given his focus, he didn’t notice the distant disturbance from the woods, not until it grew in volume, aggressive and clumsy and steadily getting closer. There was something uncoordinated about the noise as well, snagging and stumbling that set Mumbo’s fins on end, like the thing it belonged to was unfamiliar with the forest, or simply didn’t care. Well- thing. It was quite obviously a human. Nothing else was so loud, so careless.

Mumbo shrank back when the human burst through the clearing, but it didn’t even notice the two mermaids, instead hunching over its knees with heaving breaths, so ragged they almost sounded like growls. Mumbo was entirely tense from fingers to tail tip, fins on end and quivering, while Ghost looked little more than bored, or maybe just pained; it was difficult to tell with fins so lax. This couldn’t be the friend they were talking about, could it? Ghost hadn’t said a word when Mumbo talked of his own human friends; if anything, Ghost had sounded entirely disinterested. Maybe they were too sick to care about a threat in the clearing? Whatever the case, Mumbo would take care of it.

“Got your bloody clothes, Etho, christ, you didn’t make it easy to find you. Couldn’t have gone anywhere else huh?” The human tossed the bag off its back and into the sand, “This is a nice location though, for the future,” it mumbled, “Close to the river. Lots of options.”

It didn’t even look up as it shed some of its clothes, stumbling toward the water with a distinctly unsettling gait, legs shaking violently- was it sick? Either way, Mumbo didn’t want it anywhere near him. Mumbo spat a long, rattling hiss, satisfied as the human fell back into the sand, eyes wide enough for Mumbo to see in his half-blind state. It was a similar size as Grian, smaller without most of its clothes, with long, almost matted looking hair. Beside him, Ghost made an odd noise, almost reminiscent of a human laugh. Clearly they were getting sicker by the moment, no, no, Mumbo wouldn’t let this human anywhere near them, not when they couldn’t defend themself.

“Etho!” the human squeaked, shuffling back on uncoordinated limbs, “Who is this? Tell ‘im off! Tell ‘im off!” Something like slits across its neck and chest flared, reminiscent of gills. Odd jewelry, maybe? Did human paint move across their bodies? Well, regardless, Mumbo did not appreciate being yelled at, so he snaked closer to the water’s edge, rearing up with another defensive hiss.

‘Sorry, no speak- ah- human?’ Ghost whistled, rolling over somewhat pathetically, and the human screeched, kicking up sand in Mumbo’s direction, which, honestly, not a great choice.

“Not funny! Not funny!”

“Maybe not,” Ghost spoke in human, and Mumbo nearly jumped out of his skin, reeling on them with wide eyes, “But I do wish someone would bite you.” They paused, turning back to Mumbo, ‘Don’t bite it, please.’

‘IT?!’ The human whistled, outraged, but it didn’t whistle like a human, instead sounding just like a mermaid, clicks and all, though similarly to Ghost, it expressed its emotions in speech, which- maybe that made sense, given it had no fins to emote with. Still, the surprise was enough to send Mumbo jumping back a few paces, whirling from Ghost to the human and back again in wild confusion.

Ghost rolled their eyes, a frighteningly human mannerism, before giving a small wave of their tail, ‘Probably should’ve given you a better warning. Didn’t know how to explain, and they started the switch sooner than I thought. Too soon, clearly, they’re a damn mess. Should’ve been in the water ages ago. By the time you left the woods, it was a bit late, and obviously, I’m not well.’ Where the human’s whistle was strong and clear, Ghost’s seemed breathy and strained, like it was getting harder and harder to force the noise from their throat. And- wait a minute, their eyes weren’t right either. Something changed. Ghost spoke again before Mumbo could continue that thought, ‘Let them into the water, please. It will help both of us.’

“Stop talking so fast,” the human snapped irritably, “I can’t understand you.”

“I’m not talking to you,” Ghost bit back in human once more, but they didn’t look nearly as unhappy as they were before, fins only twitching absently. “Come on. Get in the water, they’ll let you now.”

The human looked skeptical, but even seated in the sand it was still shaking, and while Mumbo didn’t particularly want it anywhere close, Ghost had sounded decisive..? Mumbo carefully pulled away, keeping toward Ghost and hoping the human would respect his space. It seemed to understand, getting to its feet on legs that barely held its weight, then stumbling to the water line and falling in. Ghost made that odd half-laugh sound again, and seemed to relax a little, releasing a long breath.

The human rolled over in the water, looking similarly relieved. “Did you tell your new friend anything, or are they completely in the dark?”

Ghost shrugged, noncommittal, “Not really. Never going to see them again, so I didn’t see a point.”

“That’s mean,” the human snickered, its mood seeming to switch entirely. “So what, you’re going gonna blow their mind and leave them to think about it for the rest of their life, completely clueless? Do you think years from now they’ll doubt it even happened? Think they dreamed it? No one will believe them.” The human suddenly cackled, a bit of a crazed noise that made Mumbo shrink away. It looked directly at him and sneered, “No one will believe you,” then stopped short, turning back to Ghost, “Etho! Tell them no one will believe them. Do it for me.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“Do it!”

“No.”

“Do it!”

“No.”

“Do it!”

Ghost didn't answer, rolling over to face away from both Mumbo and the human, something like mild amusement waving through their fins which- wait, since when had their fins gotten so small? But his thoughts didn’t linger there for long, most of his brain still straining to remember the human words he had learned. He was sure the two of them were talking about him, they must be, but they also must be using a different pronoun- when Ghost learned human, did they make a separate pronoun in the human language for mermaids? Why? While he had about a thousand questions, it seemed difficult for Ghost to speak at this point, so for now he wanted to focus on language, or at least on trying to understand anything the two of them were saying.

‘What do you call me? My humans call me-‘ Mumbo paused, steeling himself. It had been a while since he’d spoken like this. “He.”

Ghost was silent for a moment, giving Mumbo a curious look over their shoulder before laying their head back in the sand, still weak. ‘We call you,’ Ghost stopped, switching to human, “They. Them. He-“ ‘-implies a concept that does not exist for us. You will not understand. Has to do with human reproduction. Kind of. It is unnecessarily complicated. Do yourself a favor and don’t worry about it.’

‘I like human things. You can call me-‘ “-He.”

For some reason, the human found this incredibly funny, cackling to itself from the other side of the beach, but Ghost didn’t seem to care, only waving their tail (was it shorter?) in a lazy gesture. “You heard him.”

“I like this mermaid. You think I could lure him back home? Oh, I’d love to have two. Keep him as a little guard dog, have him eat anyone that steps foot on my island. Oh- or- Well, I don’t think I could split my soul again, but it would be nice to have options. Maybe he’d complain less. Or maybe he wouldn’t swim all the way out to sea on days we’re meant to switch back, yeah?”

Ghost bristled, looking angry for the first time since the human arrived, and Mumbo’s fins rose in turn. “No. You’re stuck with me. And that was your fault anyway, you seem to forget that when you blackout drunk, I also blackout. I didn’t know where the hell I was when I woke up. He brought me here. Please, I’d hate to subject anyone else to dealing with you like I have to.” Mumbo struggled to read their tone, unable to parse the bitterness in the beginning from the last sentiment that almost sounded like a joke, too exaggerated. It was difficult to tell if Ghost was genuinely angry or not.

But the human ignored them, turning instead to address Mumbo, ‘Do you come here often?’

Faster than Mumbo could process the question, Ghost snatched at Mumbo’s arm, and while Mumbo yanked away with a hiss, Ghost was not deterred, grabbing again despite their weakness and not flinching when Mumbo snapped forward in a warning feint. Instead, they pushed Mumbo’s hand to their chest at a spot where the skin was split by a massive scar. Surprise stopped Mumbo in his tracks- he hadn’t seen any scars across Ghost’s body, the colors too difficult to differentiate in his state of poor eyesight, but now that he knew it was there, he could just make out the difference. The scar extended above and below where his hand sat on their chest, all the way past Ghost’s eye and down to the midsection of their tail. It wasn’t thin either, jutting particularly badly across their stomach- how had Ghost even survived an injury that severe?

Ghost looked directly at him when they spoke, unwavering, ‘It did that. Dangerous human. Stay away.’

“I did not!” the human shrieked, then seemed to realize a bit too late it had spoken in the wrong language, ‘I healed it! I saved them!-‘ “-Come on, Etho! What’re you doing that for!? And here I thought you liked to have a little fun sometimes. You’re not still mad, surely not, you like the life you’ve carved out for yourself on land. Is a little inconvenience still worse than being dead to you?”

“This isn’t about me.”

“Is it not? Would you really put a price tag on your life, Etho? From where I’m standing, our deal was perfectly fair.”

Ghost grunted. “I didn’t get a choice.”

“You agreed! You shook my hand!”

“Why are you dredging this back up,” Ghost frowned, something like a growl leaving their throat, “I don’t care how many times you repeat yourself, you will never get me to say that choosing between my life and your ‘deal’ was fair. I’m past it. It’s time for you to let it go.”

The human quieted, something conflicted crossing its face before it looked away, grabbing fistfuls of sand in the water. For the first time since it arrived at the beach, it spoke without an edge. “But I want you to. I want you to be okay with it.”

Ghost was silent for a long moment, but there was nothing bitter behind their next words; honestly, there wasn’t any emotion at all. “I know.”

Mumbo didn’t know what to do. In all honesty, the human was looking very biteable right now, but Ghost had asked him not to, and maybe whatever they were arguing about was a ‘them’ issue anyway. If Ghost wanted to, they could probably bite the human themself, no need for Mumbo’s input.

But he didn’t get to think about it much longer, not before both the human and Ghost fell back almost limply, shallow, harsh breaths leaving Ghost’s lips, while the human groaned.

And then something split, Ghost’s tail, cracking apart with an awful squelching pull, their scales melting and dissolving like bone against magma. Mumbo reared back, blind fear lifting most of his body from the water before flying in the other direction. He choked on segmented hiss, and the human cackled, any hints of softness to its voice dead, replaced by vindictive edges. Had it done that to Ghost- did Ghost know? What- Was Ghost even a mermaid at all? Was this some sort of trick?

Terror sent Mumbo rocketing into deeper water, distressed by how little space he had to retreat. The lake wasn’t small, but it wasn’t endless either, not like the ocean; Mumbo couldn’t just swim away forever. He needed to hide. There was a nook a tad deeper into the lake where Mumbo typically stored his things, so he pushed himself down, holing up until he was too far to hear anything from the cove at all. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong with both of them. Mumbo struggled to catch his breath, unable to shake the image from his mind. He had never wanted two beings so gone from his place at the beach- Mumbo had always imagined sharing it with others, making a real home out of his little cove, but suddenly, nothing was more terrifying than a stranger. Betrayal burned through his blood just as hot as terror. If that human was so dangerous, why did Ghost call it a friend in the first place? Why did they bring it to his safe space- actually, how did the human find them at all?

Mumbo wasn’t sure how long he spent tucked away at the bottom of the lake. He was too big to completely fit in the rocky nook, but the mud at the bottom of the lake blended well with his scales, so he sat mostly obscured and stared up at the surface, head and parts of his tail poking out among the mud. Just.. waiting for something to happen. For Ghost, whatever they were, to leave, and for their human friend(?) to take its things and go as well, and to never see them again. Not in his cove, no. Not where he was supposed to be safe.

There was no movement for so long, Mumbo wondered if he’d missed Ghost leaving. If he had failed to spot them, though, it seemed unlikely with the improvements in his eyesight since he and Ghost had first met.

More likely, Ghost had never left the cove. Mumbo couldn’t see how they wouldn’t be dead, not with splitting tails and melting scales. They were so sick, the human too- Had they both died? It turned Mumbo’s stomach to think there were two corpses on his beach, rotting in the sun. What would he do with them? He certainly wouldn’t want his humans to find them. (But maybe that was the best case scenario. They couldn’t threaten his space if they were dead.)

And then there was movement, a large disturbance in the water followed by an even larger mermaid, the dark shape that was distinctly not Ghost.

They moved slowly, languid through the water, scanning the area with narrowed eyes, clicking soft and curious as they moved. Mumbo forced himself to be completely still, completely quiet. They were looking for him, he was sure of it, dark eyes raking malevolently across the lake floor. He didn’t know what it was about this mermaid that was so wrong, that made him so afraid, so sure they meant him harm, but Mumbo wasn’t about to question his gut feeling, not when he was so petrified.

To his great relief, the mermaid did not linger for very long, kicking off in the direction of the river after only a few more minutes of lazy drifting.

But even after Not-Ghost was long gone, Mumbo did not surface. He did not want to know what was on his shores. He did not want to see any more creatures of the sun.

…

Scar stood, hunched over his desk with his mouth agape, unable to shut it, but equally unable to say any words at all. That was Etho. His friend Etho. On his trail cameras. Walking away after growing legs.

“What the fuck.” Grian said, slotted below him in Scar’s desk chair, eyes equally wide. Yeah. That about summed it up.

#hermitcraft #hermitfic #mumbo jumbo #ethoslab #joel smallishbeans #smallishbeans #grian #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #hermitcraft fic #mumbomaid au

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frozenjokes · 2 months

Text

Toys Like Tape Measures (And A Brand New Splint!)

tw for drugging, though only in the medical sense. however, because of the language barrier, Mumbo doesn’t understand what’s happening really, so if that makes you uncomfortable I would skip

“Alright, so here’s the deal,” Mumbo heard Scar before he even reached the clearing, and he couldn’t be more excited. Scar was back, (and Grian was there too) he was finally back after being gone all week! “Today we’re going to fix that splint- ope- don’t make that face at me yet, let me explain, let me explain. I promise it will be 100% safe.”

“So many things- so many things, Scar, but you are not a doctor, much less a veterinarian- how do you even think this is going to work? Mumbo won’t even let us touch him, what makes you think anything about this will be safe?”

“I’ve been doing a lot of research, Grian! I’ve talked to every large animal vet I know, and a few fish people as well! This big ol’ bag on my back you’ve been nagging me about has everything we’ll need! Well, except the fish. You’re going to have to catch a few of those.”

“Scar! Fishing in this spot isn’t even very good and you know it, if you needed fish, why wouldn’t you bring any.”

“Forgot.”

There was a small silence before the two humans burst into the clearing, climbing through the path they’d ended up making through the brush by walking through so many times. Mumbo surfaced to greet them, though they were still preoccupied with each other.

“Of course,” Grian groaned, sighing as he threw down his bag, “Guess I’ll get to it then.”

“That’s the spirit!” Scar beamed, patting the other human hard on the back, who made a soft oof sound before scuttling away, moving to hide its face from Scar as it turned a reddish color. Odd. Usually Grian would yell at Scar for doing something like that, rightfully so (Mumbo still didn’t understand why Scar would randomly hit his friend), but instead Grian was far more meek. Had something happened? Maybe since Scar was hurt, Grian was taking a more passive role than normal. Mermaids were gentler with sick friends as well, and Mumbo knew quite well he could get away with more when he was unwell.

But it was good to see Scar looking healthy. His shoulder was still bandaged, visible under his shirt, but he couldn’t be feeling too badly given his bright demeanor, and his movement didn’t seem to be impaired at all. Thank goodness.

If it was even possible, Scar brightened further when he spotted Mumbo, happily throwing off unnecessary clothes before hopping right into the water, showing absolutely zero signs of fear. Oh, that was a weight off Mumbo’s back; he didn’t even realize how worried he was about Scar being afraid of him until now, until Scar very clearly wasn’t. Good, good..

Mumbo met Scar in the shallows, deep enough that he could keep his tail from dragging on the sand, but shallow enough where he could navigate with his hands; he was in near constant pain even with a week to recover, and while slow, pulling himself along the bottom with his hands caused the least agony on his tail. His splint was sufficiently broken now, only getting more uncomfortable with every passing day. At this point, Mumbo was just waiting for it to fall off; trying to figure out how it was attached was far too painful, though he had tried briefly a couple of times (with little success).

“Hello, Mumbo!” Scar greeted him, “I’ve got something you’re going to like. I’m pretty sure you like human stuff, so you’ll get a kick out of this.” Scar held up a small silver object, round, but not quite circular. Mumbo moved to get a closer look, though he couldn’t lift himself very far out of the water, so Scar crouched down to get it closer. “Tape measure.”

Mumbo squinted. “What.”

“Tape measure.” Huh. Weird word. Usually human words weren’t that long, though, maybe Mumbo had only learned the shorter ones. Was this a human tool? Mumbo attempted to snatch it, but Scar was faster, jumping back with a surprised look on his face. On his perch, Grian laughed.

“I told you! I told you he’d try to take that, and you won’t be getting it back.”

“Well he can have it if he wants, but not before I’m done!” Scar huffed, then turned back to Mumbo, speaking sternly, “No.” Mumbo stared, unamused. He could have guessed Scar didn’t want him to have its human tool, that didn’t change the fact that he was going to take it.

“Scar,” he tried, reaching out a hand a little slower. Maybe it wouldn’t see? ‘Your human object. Give me.’ he continued in a whistle due to the lack of human words, but Scar only huffed, an incredulous smile across its face.

“No!” Scar repeated a tad more forcefully, but Mumbo could see the smile on his face, he knew well enough he could keep trying. Mumbo moved a little forward, hoping to get within reach, but Scar stepped back, then back again, rolling his eyes, “You’re going to make measuring you really difficult, Mumbo.”

“Yeah,” Grian said from across the way, a small laugh in his tone, “I’d say I’ve got plenty of time to catch something.”

“You will, but this is not the reason!” Scar yelled back, pointing an accusatory finger, but the smile never left Scar’s face, and soon his focus was squarely back on Mumbo (who definitely hadn’t tried to snatch at the device while it was distracted).

The tool made a soft whirring sound as Scar pulled on one end, a flat yellow line appearing from inside the device, then snapping back when Scar let go. Whoa. What was that? What was the purpose? Scar moved a little bit closer, pulling the yellow line further this time, but when Mumbo managed to touch it, the line snapped back into the silver device with a sharp crack. Huh. Was it alive? Maybe it was shy? It looked a little bit like a snail..

“What.” Mumbo said, hoping for more information, but Scar only put his hands on his hips, making a show of his annoyance.

“I can’t show you if you keep trying to take it from me!” Nonsense. Guess Mumbo would just have to take it to figure it out for himself.

The next thirty minutes was an odd dance of Scar struggling to keep his distance while also trying to line up the tape measure with Mumbo’s body, and Mumbo would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying the game. The tape measure hurt if it snapped back on Mumbo’s hand, but if anything, that only made the game more exciting. Even with the limited use of his tail, he found himself splashing far more than usual, a certain recklessness brought about only by play. He didn’t even want the tape measure anymore (lie), he just wanted to keep up the game. Scar did not like the game as much, less and less as more time passed, but Grian seemed amused at least, occasionally looking over to laugh when Scar stumbled or outright fell over.

“I could use a little help here if you don’t mind!” Scar called, and Grian laughed again, the sound coming out more like a cackle.

“I thought you had it handled? You kept insisting you were fine, what changed?”

“He just won’t stop moving! Listen, I’ve measured plenty of animals, but they don’t usually have hands! He’s being impossible- he knows I’m not trying to hurt him and he knows I need him to stay still and he’s just not listening! On purpose! This was supposed to be easy!”

“He looks like he’s having fun, I wouldn’t want to rain on his parade.”

“Grian! Help me!” Scar cut himself off with a yelp as Mumbo lunged for the tape measure, but he didn’t get far with his limited mobility, so Scar stepped easily out of reach. He was lucky Mumbo couldn’t use his tail, lucky. With another short laugh, Grian got up from where he was fishing, making his way gingerly off the rocks and giggling as he went before stepping into the water as well. Ah, so another challenger joins the fray!

Though, with Grian holding one side of the yellow line, Mumbo couldn’t quite grab at it anymore, the whole thing bending and snapping like it might break in two if Mumbo wasn’t careful. And that wouldn’t do, no no, how could he figure out its purpose if it was broken?

Instead, he stilled so he could watch instead- wow the line went out so far! How much could fit in there? How far could it go? Mumbo moved to follow the humans’ movement, but they seemed to want to pull the line the length of Mumbo’s tail, chirping nonsense to each other the entire time. At least Scar looked excited; it was always nice when Scar was happy, nice enough that Mumbo didn’t mind all that much that their game was effectively over. Mumbo didn’t love how close they were getting, but a small flash of his teeth was enough to get Grian’s attention, who communicated to Scar in Mumbo’s stead.

It wasn’t very long before the two of them were satisfied though, Grian easing the yellow line back into the tape measure. Mumbo took his chance, lunging as quickly as his impaired mobility would allow, but Scar surprised him by turning around instead of jumping away like normal. While Mumbo was scrambling to keep himself from running face first into Scar’s legs, the human tossed him the tape measure, the thing plopping heavily into the water. Mumbo gaped for a moment before grabbing it, but when he resurfaced, Scar was walking toward the shore, chatting away with Grian like the tape measure didn’t mean anything at all. Well.. okay.

No matter! Mumbo had a new toy, and first he wanted to know just how long this yellow line was. The answer was very long. Mumbo lodged one end under a rock and swam as far as the line would allow, and while he was quite impressed with the length, he was even more excited when he let go of the metal base, the whole thing shooting back in the other direction. Yes! Yes! Mumbo did the same thing at least seven more times before getting a little bored, then experimented with the tape measure above the water, where it snapped back much faster. The height of his fun was setting the end of the yellow line under a rock on the surface, bringing metal end to the other side of the cove, then letting go and watching the thing skirt across the water, splashing all the way. He was relatively sure he made some sort of trill or other noise in his excitement, as Scar and Grian’s laughing caught his attention. Mumbo cringed a little, suddenly very aware of their eyes on him, but his embarrassment was short lived, outweighed by the joy of funny human trinket.

Mumbo would have spent the rest of the day playing with the tape measure, but something else caught his eye. Scar was working on something- no, he was making something. Mumbo had never seen a human make something before- not in the way Mumbo liked to do! Scar’s creative process looked very similar as well, which is to say, all the materials he brought were strewn all over the grass, wildly unorganized as he fiddled with different parts. Most of his materials were long metal rods, but there were also some leather looking pieces, and what looked like parts of white tubing as well. What was he up to?

Mumbo shimmied as close to the shore as his tail would allow, hoping to grab Scar’s attention. “What. What. What,” he said in human, hoping the extra emphasis would translate through the repeated words.

Scar looked up, clearly amused, but seemed to struggle with explaining, starting and stopping speaking several times before settling with, “For you.” Not very helpful, and Scar knew it, making a couple of vague gestures at Mumbo before giving up and going back to his project. Well.. that was fine. Mumbo would just have to watch.

Scar was mostly focused on the leather piece, positioning it in a circular way and winding the metal through to create a cage-looking structure. The leather was adjustable too, Scar fiddling with a buckle on the front to make the entire thing wider or smaller. Mumbo was particularly fascinated by the white pieces though, much flatter than the rods, which Scar only weaved through one side. Why? He tried to ask again what the human was doing, but was only offered the same non-answer.

“Oh!” Grian made a surprised noise from his place on the rocks, and Mumbo saw his line tighten. If only he was fast enough to snag whatever was on it off the hook, but alas, Grian was already reeling in a decent sized fish. Scar hopped to his feet and Grian let out a celebratory noise of his own; it was so cute how humans got so excited about every catch. Though, in all fairness, Mumbo would have been quite chuffed catching a fish that size, especially this hungry. Maybe if humans really didn’t eat the fish they caught, they’d be open to sharing.

Grian scooped the fish off the line with a net, maneuvering the hook out of its mouth before walking it back toward the shore to Scar, who cheered all the while.

“Right,” Grian said as he hit the sand, “You want to give this to him? I’m assuming you’re going to drug him or something.”

“That’s the plan. I was considering a tranquilizer, but I don’t want to make this experience traumatic or anything, and hauling a big ol’ rifle out here might put a damper on some of the trust we’ve established. Hopefully this way he’ll just be real relaxed, maybe even take a nice little nap.”

“You’re not trying to put him to sleep? What are you giving him?”

“Not necessarily, but I doubt he’ll be able to stay awake. Trust me when I say he won’t be in pain, definitely not. And I brought a cone, too, just in case he freaks. I came prepared, Grian, prepared I tell you. I’m no large animal vet, but you could say I’ve been quite involved in many a procedure.”

“Scar, what are you giving him?”

“Like.” Scar paused, tapping the smile on his lips, “A lot of morphine.”

“Morphine?”

“Works on fish. Mumbo’s big, he can handle it, and anyway, it’s the safest option for everyone involved. Are you worried about our friend, Grian?”

“I’m not- how did you even get morphine, Scar?”

“Scar’s not taking any more questions at this time, please call back later. In the meantime, hand me that fish so we can get this show on the road. I’ll stay with him as long as he needs me, but I’m not expecting anything to go wrong here. Still, the sooner we start, the better.” Scar got to his feet, taking the fish net from a gaping Grian and heading back to his bag. Mumbo couldn’t quite see what he was doing, but Grian followed quickly after, fretting the entire time. What, was something wrong with the fish? Scar didn’t seem to think so.

Maybe Grian hadn’t wanted Scar to give Mumbo his catch, but Scar did regardless. Mumbo was more than happy to accept the gift, only throwing Grian one mildly guilty look before devouring the whole thing. He didn’t feel very bad, not really; clearly the humans ate well enough, and given he was having a hard time hunting right now, this seemed fair.

Eating only served to brighten his mood, and with the slight weight off his chest, watching Scar continue working on his human device was all the more fun. Grian went back to fishing on his rock, but he was acting more anxious than normal, stealing glances toward Scar and Mumbo just about every time he cast his line. Though, it didn’t take very long for Mumbo to stop caring, far more intrigued by whatever Scar was up to. It was crazy how much better he was feeling; usually the joy of eating didn’t carry so far after a meal, but when Mumbo was this hungry..

And then it hit him; he wasn’t in pain. The lightness he was feeling was from the lack of hurting- oh that couldn’t be good. What kind of fish was that? He hadn’t even looked! Please say he hadn’t accidentally poisoned himself… Mumbo didn’t feel nauseous though. And if he’d poisoned himself, he imagined he’d be feeling a lot sicker. And he had so much energy! Anyone with this much energy wouldn’t be poisoned, that would be ridiculous! He should do something- go somewhere- hunt- he could do anything! … Nevermind.

Not in pain, no, but tired, goodness, maybe he was dying. Probably not. But maybe. Honestly, he didn’t care all that much. Scar was looking at him an awful lot now, though Mumbo wished he would focus on his invention instead so Mumbo could figure out what it was before he died. Hm.. It kind of looked a little bit like his splint, didn’t it?

…

The gentle touch of skin on scales. A presence around his neck, tight, mildly uncomfortable, but not enough for Mumbo to want to do anything about it. A crack, loud enough to frighten him, to open his eyes, but there was no pain, so it must not have been bone. Something was draped over his eyes, dark like home. It was nice. A couple of clicks told him of Forces, big and near and moving; he should probably swim away, but that’d be quite a bit of effort, wouldn’t it. Maybe another time.

His fins rose and fell with the presence and absence of touch. Not unpleasant. Not until they tried to lift him.

Pain like thorns lit his blood, everywhere, pain, pain- Some sort of noise escaped his throat, something animal, and he moved without coordination- it hurt, everything hurt now. Distantly he heard them, humans, why were humans here? Talking, they were talking nothing, repeating the same words again and again, “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Couldn’t they see he was in pain? Why weren’t they helping?

Too much time passed before his attackers released him, but wasn’t sitting in the water the same as before. It was awkward, unpleasant honestly, but he stopped struggling quickly. Too painful to move. Too much effort.

He wanted to curl up. Somewhere dark, somewhere enclosed and safe. Something hard stopped his movement. Guess that was that.

But maybe that was fine.

Whatever had been there was gone now. Nothing else was trying to hurt him. That was good. That was enough.

…

The humans were talking. They were loud, Mumbo could hear them, though his face burned just slightly, a dry feeling. Was he above the water? It didn’t much concern him.

“He’s still asleep, Scar.”

“That’s fine. Normal, even. He’s going to be fine; if he was going to have any bad reactions, I’m pretty sure we would have known by now. I’ve been keeping an eye on his breathing, and it’s stayed consistent this whole time. He’s okay.”

“You said four hours. It’s been five.”

“Yeah, for a human on a human dose. I also told you I don’t know exactly how it’ll work on a mermaid. I doubt anyone knows. I gave him quite a bit more than a human dose anyway, and I’m pretty sure he needed it. He was freaking out when we were trying to get the splint on.”

“I just don’t like the fact that we drugged him without being sure how he’d react.”

“I don’t know what else you wanted me to do, Grian. He was not going to let us touch him, and I don’t think there’s any world in which we could have explained what we were trying to accomplish. Tail injuries could be fatal for mermaids, we don’t know. How’s he supposed to eat if he can’t swim? It’s not like we can weigh him. This was the safest option.”

“You really think we couldn’t have explained it to him? He’s smart, Scar, he’s really observant.”

“I don’t know, I think there’s a chance. But what would happen if he got scared? Even a human might’ve panicked, even if they knew every detail about what we were doing. And you know how strong he is- I’ve still got bruises on my arms from where he grabbed me. He could have hurt himself or us completely by accident.”

A long silence. “I know.”

A longer silence.

“So when’d you change your tune?”

“What?”

“About Mumbo. Nearly every day two weeks ago you made sure to remind me how you were totally going to kill him and sell all his parts or whatever, but I haven’t heard a peep from you since Monday. Did you come out here without me and have some sorta spiritual experience or what?”

“I- no. Of course not. I’m still planning on doing that, I just decided I’d spare your feelings and stop talking about it.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes! And anyway, with you paying me egregious prices for my fish, I’m not exactly hurting for money right now. So it’s fine. I’m not in any rush.”

“That’s good to know.”

“Stop- stop talking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you don’t believe me.”

“Well, Grian, that’s going to be a problem because you’re right, I don’t believe you.”

“I- how dare you! I am going to do it! I could do it right now even, but I won’t, and not because I don’t want to, but it wouldn’t be fair, not while he’s all drugged up.”

“I see.”

“Stop it!”

“I believe you, I believe you.”

“No you don’t!”

“Shhh,” Scar said, his voice dropping, “No fighting,” he trailed off, and the silence was charged with something new, something Mumbo picked up on even in his half-asleep state.

“No fighting,” Grian repeated softly, “He wouldn’t like that.”

“Mm,” Scar acknowledged him quietly, but spoke no more words, and neither did Grian. That, or Mumbo had just fallen asleep again. Possible, all things considered. That was okay.

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft fic #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #grian #mumbo jumbo #scarian #hermitshipping #it’s there.#mumbomaid au #hermitfic

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frozenjokes · 2 months

Note

i love your mumbomaid fics so much they are awesome. i reblogged them (obviously) but i figured i might as well say it to your face

why thank you! I am enjoying writing this more than I thought I would! Sometimes love is stored in the mermaid mumscarian fic I guess!

shameless plug (read them here)

#hermitcraft #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #grian #mumbo jumbo #mumscarian #hermitshipping #the art is like kinda platonic to me but their asses are not normal about each other #mumbomaid au

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frozenjokes · 17 days

Text

a new player enters the mumbomaid au. uh. merlabs. he’s a little bit cursed thanks to joel but that’s okay. (his hair should be longer but whatever)

uhhhh snippet? Probably doesn’t make much sense out of context but I don’t care. The next chapter is pretty dense

***

When the human burst through the clearing, it didn’t even notice the two mermaids, instead hunching over its knees with heaving breaths, so ragged they almost sounded like growls. Mumbo was entirely tense from fingers to tail tip, fins on end and quivering, while Ghost looked little more than bored, or maybe just pained, it was difficult to tell with fins so lax.

It didn’t even look up as it shed some of its clothes, stumbling toward the water with a distinctly unsettling gait, legs shaking almost violently- was it sick? Either way, Mumbo didn’t want it anywhere near him. He spat a long, rattling hiss, satisfied as the human fell back into the sand, eyes wide enough for Mumbo to see in his half-blind state. It was a similar size to Grian, smaller without most of its clothes, with long, almost matted looking hair. Beside him, Ghost made an odd noise, almost reminiscent of a human laugh. Clearly they were getting sicker by the moment, no, no, Mumbo wouldn’t let this human anywhere close, not when Ghost couldn’t defend themself.

‘Sorry, no speak- ah- human?’ Ghost whistled, rolling over somewhat pathetically, and the human screeched, kicking up sand in Mumbo’s direction, which, honestly, not a great choice.

“Not funny! Not funny!”

“Maybe not,” Etho spoke in human, and Mumbo nearly jumped out of his skin, reeling on them with wide eyes. “But I do wish someone would bite you.” They paused, turning back to Mumbo, ‘Don’t bite it, please.’

#hermitcraft #etho #ethoslab #joel smallishbeans #smallishbeans #mumbomaid au #mumbo jumbo #bdubs #bdoubleo100

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frozenjokes · 29 days

Text

Rage Room (I’m Loving A Losing Battle, But I Can’t Quite Seem To Let Go)

in which aromantic scar finally tells his friends what’s been happening between him and Grian, and how he processes the space between them

“It’s just- not fair!” Scar smashed the bottle against the tile floor, the glass pelting the ankles of his reinforced pants.

Bdubs clapped behind him, though stopped when Scar turned around, visibly not in the mood. Admittedly he knew he was shooting low when he went on, but Scar didn’t care, “And I’m kind of pissed off about Etho! If the roles were switched, I would be there, and he said he’d be here last time he missed.”

“Oi,” Cleo cut in, about as unamused as Scar figured they’d be. “No friendly fire.”

“Is it really friendly fire if he’s not here.” Scar huffed, but Cleo knew better than to take his words at face value, and shut him up with a firm glare.

“And you better start talking before I make you pay for all of this.” Her words were rugged, but Scar knew she didn’t mean it, and he could take as much time as he needed. But really, if he was taking shots at Bdubs, he probably should cut to the chase. This was why they were here. This was why they had all made this pact in the first place.

“Grian is.” Scar started, stilted, “Sorry, Bdubs. I shouldn’t have said that. Grian won’t talk to me anymore. He doesn’t- want to talk to me.”

“What?” Bdubs said, eyes flying open, and yeah, no one here was really caught up with his whole.. situation. Anything that felt close to Mumbo he tended to avoid, and basically everything about Grian in the past weeks was Mumbo adjacent.. and also a little sensitive. Not something he was eager to talk about. Scar was more than a little pent up, and based on the expressions of concern across Cleo and Bdubs’ faces, it must have been pretty obvious. “Weren’t you guys hanging out nearly everyday for- I don’t know, it’s been a month at least, right? Did something happen? Hasn’t Grian been driving you around everywhere, too? You’ve sure been asking me a lot less.”

“Yeah. We were.” Scar spoke stiffly, picking up another empty bottle and spinning it in his hands. He chucked it at the wall, aiming at the newly set up targets Cleo had implemented a couple weeks ago. A good choice. Fit with the theme of the axe throwing/rage room combo. The bottle shattered near the bullseye, unsurprising, given their whole friend group had pretty tight aim. Still satisfying. “Until he went and fell in love with me.”

The memories burned like open wounds, like red, angry flesh, like sunburns on your eyelids, like the stinging smell of bleach. Cleo said something, some sort of assent, but Scar didn’t hear it, smashing two more bottles for release, though he didn’t feel any less like his ribs had been torn from his chest, hanging limply on hooks, dripping on his face from his place on the cold ground, bleeding out, dying, but never quickly enough.

“I don’t like labels, alright, you all know this, but Grian says aromantic, and that works for now, because I don’t love him like he loves me and that’s fine. That’s fine! That. Is. Fine.” Scar took a bat, needing something bigger, needing more release, and the old TV would work just fine, “And you know how I feel about dating. I like it. I like to get to know strangers, I like to feel things out, and I like to be close! But you know who I don’t like to date?” The question wasn’t meant to be answered. Scar swung his bat, splitting the TV screen with a satisfying crack. “Friends. Good friends. Friends that mean a lot, friends that I can’t afford to lose when everything goes to shit.”

Scar hit the TV a couple more times, physically battling away distress, “I was so afraid when he brought it up- dating. I was so afraid. I couldn’t just date Grian, because it would end and I would lose him and maybe he’d say we could still be friends and I would say yes! Yes, please, please can we still be friends, and he would say that’s okay, and then two weeks later he’d slam me with a message about ‘needing space’ and ‘not wanting to talk for a while’ and suddenly, suddenly my heart’s being ripped out of my chest and stomped on, but it would be fine, right? It would be fine, because after he’s taken his time, we could be friends again, and things could return to normal. No!” The TV was hardly satisfying to hit anymore, reduced to shattered glass and warped plastic under Scar’s assault.

“It never just. Goes back to normal. You try, and you try and you try, but they just can’t do it, they just can’t love you anymore, and suddenly your best friend is slipping away and there’s fucking nothing you can do about it. Because you dated them. Because you took things ‘to the next level,’ because you made something volatile without even knowing, and the next thing you know, it’s blown up in your face, and you’ve been completely blindsided again.” Scar’s arms shook, and gently, from behind, Cleo laid a hand on his shoulder, sliding down his arm to take the bat he was gripping so tightly. Scar let go when they touched his hands, but his teeth remained locked, grinding near painfully.

“Deep breaths, Scar. Breathe with me. Let me count for you,” and Cleo did, counting to five and back again, forcing Scar to take a step back. Scar wasn’t someone who particularly valued meditation or breathing; it was often too difficult to focus, especially alone, and he was easily frustrated knowing how he should be feeling, but Cleo had a way of grounding him, and when Bdubs was doing the same exercises at his side, Scar didn’t feel so stupid. And it did help. Fives minutes to breathe really did wonders sometimes; it was a shame Scar couldn’t quite manage to utilize the tool as effectively when he was alone. Not that he ever remembered to try.

And now it was quiet, and Scar was so vulnerable, and there was no more anger to hide behind, because it was all just sadness, stiff and aching so impossibly deep.

“I thought if we didn’t.. date.. I thought things could just be normal. That nothing would change. But every awful thing just got expedited- he doesn’t want to see me, he doesn’t want to talk to me- he needs space, he said he needed space, but I know what that means now.” Scar had to sit down, and Bdubs joined him, Cleo standing close by. “I feel so helpless. And it didn’t even matter. I just wish I knew so badly, so I could have said yes, so at least we might have had a chance before it all went to shit. I could keep my friend a little bit longer. I wish I understood how he felt. I wish I felt what he felt. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard.” Scar let his head drop to his hands, voice muffled under his palms, “I just kinda hate myself sometimes.”

Cleo put a hand on his shoulder, a question of touch, and one that Scar accepted with closed eyes. “It would still be hard, Scar. I can promise you that. If this isn’t what you want to hear right now, then you can let me know, but I have to think Grian and your other exes of the past who you haven’t kept in contact with were and are just as torn up as you. Maybe they need to let go for themselves, but I can tell you from personal experience, that doesn’t make it hurt any less. It doesn’t make you miss them any less.”

“But when people leave me, it’s always because in some way, their lives would be better without me,” Scar felt like wailing, but in reality, his speech was far more soft, “And my life is always worse. It’s always worse. Like I’m just a plague on my friends, and I have no idea how to fix myself to keep this from happening.”

Bdubs squeezed his hand to get his attention, and Scar knew what was coming, he just couldn’t love himself right now.

“There’s nothing to fix, Scar. You’re one of the most delightful people I know, and I mean that. The way you navigate the world is inspiring.”

“Just doesn’t feel like it right now.”

“It doesn’t have to,” Cleo said, something faraway about the words, “You just should know, that’s all. How we feel.”

“I just wish I was normal.”

“I don’t,” Bdubs snorted, something so passionately reactionary, Cleo laughed, and Bdubs himself looked a bit surprised by his own words, then a tad embarrassed, “I mean, come on. You’re a complete monster, and I love it. I love how comfortable you are about touch, I love how physical you are, and I love how normal you make it feel. Sometimes I want to fall asleep on my friends’ shoulder, or hold hands, or just be held, you know? And no one does it like you, Scar, no one. I think everyone ought to take a couple pages from your book.”

Scar wasn’t quite sure what to do with that, but it wasn’t the type of thing you argued about. You just had to accept it. In all honesty, having people to love him when he couldn’t manage it himself felt indescribably secure. Like a heated blanket wrapped tightly over his shoulders when he was so, so cold. But he couldn’t acknowledge it either, not when he couldn’t breathe the words. So he let it hang, hoping he’d remember to say something later. He knew he would. For now, Scar dodged around the words, stuck in his own raw truth.

“I don’t want to go through this again.”

“I know,” Cleo kept their hand on his shoulder, and Scar wanted to cry.

“And I- Okay, so I can’t really talk about this.. NDAs and such, but I was working on something with someone- something cool, all three of us, Grian included. And at the same time Grian.. cut contact.. I haven’t been able to reach this other uh- colleague, and I don’t know what happened! I don’t know anything, and I have no way of contacting this other guy, and Grian doesn’t know either, and I was so excited, but it just feels like everything is falling apart around me. And- and don’t be mean about the other guy, please, it’s not his fault.” Cleo looked quite skeptical about that, but a pleading look from Scar was enough to get her to leave well enough alone, “I just wish I knew why. Or if he was coming back. Might not have been able to communicate that anyway though, there’s a bit of a language barrier.”

“Can’t use google translate?” Bdubs asked, and Scar couldn’t stop the bitter laugh that escaped his throat.

“Hadn’t thought of that,” he mumbled, which was enough to get Bdubs to let it go. Cleo didn’t look happy, but she didn’t push either.

“That fucking sucks,” she said instead, and Scar laughed in earnest, along with Bdubs, the entire air feeling just a little bit lighter.

“It does,” Scar sighed, resting a cheek on his fist, “Guess I have to find something new to throw myself into. I just really wanted this. I really wanted this.”

There was a long silence, Scar having nothing else to say, and his friends in a similar boat. There wasn’t much to say. They knew. Scar knew they understood. But there was nothing anyone could do. Nothing that could make this any less horrible. But Bdubs did perk up after a minute, catching Scar and Cleo’s attention

“We could go skiing!” Bdubs suggested, to a chorus of groans from Scar and Cleo. Bdubs huffed, affronted as he crossed his arms, “You two need to live a little. Even if you suck, you’re both exhausted by the end of the day, which would do Scar some good in my opinion, and I know you’d be able to take the time off for an impromptu trip.”

“I don’t even think you like skiing,” Cleo rolled their eyes, a laugh under her voice, “You went on one trail ride in those mountains and it changed your life, that’s what. There are no wild horses out there, Bdubs, the guide lied to you.”

“She did not lie! There are horses, and they’re going to see me and know.”

“Know.. what, exactly?” Scar teased, and Bdubs puffed up, as if this was the most blasphemous question Scar could have asked.

“They will just know. And anyway, Etho believes there’s horses out there too, he does, and he wants to see them just as much.”

“Pretty sure Etho is also fucking with you,” Cleo said, smug, and Bdubs gasped.

“Never!” But something stopped him from ranting on; a short pause, a bit of uncertainty. A guilty glance in Scar’s direction. “I’m really sorry he’s not here. I told him- I don’t know. He said something came up last minute and wouldn’t explain. I’m not happy with him either- quite frankly, I’m embarrassed.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” Scar rubbed his neck, frowning, “It doesn’t really bother me much, Bdubs. I don’t want you to feel bad.”

“It’s fine if it bothers you! It bothers me! And you’re right, he’s not here, so I think a little friendly fire is well deserved,” Bdubs paused, eying one of the few bottles that were left, “May I?”

“Be my guest.”

Bdubs snatched at a bottle, flipping it in his hand, nearly dropping it trying to look cool, then whipping it at the target across the room, the entire thing smashing right on the bullseye.

“Oh, score!” Scar smiled, and Bdubs pumped his fist.

“Yes! You know, I already feel better. This is great, Cleo, have I told you this is great?”

Cleo looked pleased, exactly the cat who got the cream, “You have. And I know. So how about you boys throw back a couple beers to replace these bottles, and we do a little axe throwing.”

“Are you paying?” Scar asked, hopeful, innocent, but Cleo snorted, shaking her head.

“Uh, no. Don’t let that hold you back, though.”

“Oh, come on,” Bdubs whined, but not without his signature grin, “What’s the point of free rage room therapy hour if it’s not all free?”

“I’m not going to make you pay for the axe throwing either, and that is not included in our little deal, so the least you can do is drink.”

“You can’t make us pay to axe throw with you because we all know you’re going to whoop our asses,” Scar shot back in fake accusation, but Cleo shrugged, a crooked smile across her lips.

“You have fun.”

“I do,” Bdubs assented, earning a sharp jab from Scar’s elbow.

“We don’t! Unless you buy us each a beer, then we do.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Okay fine,” Scar sighed, fully intending on a large tip regardless, since despite her sharp tongue, Cleo would still refuse any sort of compensation for an outing like this, “But you also have to drink.”

Cleo scoffed, the smile never leaving their face. “Who do you think I am?”

***

It was fun. Of course it was fun. Scar lost pretty miserably in nearly every round, though that could be accurately attributed to the fact he was more than a little tipsy, and Bdubs, always spying an opportunity to get an edge, took full advantage. Though, to his credit, Bdubs was having a great day in general, overtaking Cleo in score multiple times, and even winning one or two games. A feat, even against an inebriated Cleo, which, in all honesty, was pretty much the only way Scar or Bdubs could ever surpass her. Etho.. It was safe to say Etho had little talent for the sport. Didn’t matter how much instruction he got, he was nothing short of miserable every time all four of them got together to play. Actually, out of the four of them, Etho was probably the only person who improved when he was drunk, which was always hilarious to see. You’ve never seen a fire lit under someone’s ass like you did when Etho managed to squeak ahead of Bdubs or Scar, the cackling of Cleo only furthering their panic.

Scar did wish Etho was here. He wished he wasn’t so flakey sometimes.

Regardless, when they were done, Bdubs was only two steps away from sober and plenty able to drive. Scar was relieved to have to ride, and even more so that he hadn’t brought his own car in the first place. It was a nice drive home, anything but quiet, and really, just what Scar needed. The less time he spent alone with his own thoughts, the better. Though, after such a nice evening, tonight was going to be a little easier.

Thanking Bdubs for the ride, Scar stepped out onto the cobblestones once they reached his apartment, taking a deep breath before going inside. It was okay. He was going to be okay.

But there was one little habit he had developed, a little something he couldn’t quite shake despite knowing it wasn’t doing him many favors. It had only been a week since Mumbo had disappeared, but Scar refused to miss it if the mermaid ever did return- he couldn’t, even if Grian wouldn’t be in the picture anymore. This still meant something. Scar wasn’t about to give it up so easily.

The trail cams were still open on his monitors when he sat at his desk. Of course they were. Scar never closed them.

So there he sat, chin in his hands, eyes glazed as he watched every angle of that little cove. The trees, waving gently in the breeze. The sand, shifting ever so slightly in the presence of bugs and crabs. But mostly he watched the water. Scar never stopped watching the water.

#hermitcraft #hermitfic #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #scarian #hermitshipping #grian #mumbo jumbo #bdubs #bdouble0 #bdoubleo100 #mumbomaid au #zombiecleo #etho #ethoslab

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frozenjokes · 11 days

Text

There Are Many Ways To Deal With The Awkward Tension Of Reconnecting With An Old Friend. Beating The Shit Out Of Each Other.. Is A Way

and also there’s mermaids

“Bdubs! Hello, hello, what are you up to today?” Scar laid across his bed, kicking his legs as he watched the trail cams sitting at his desk. There was a lot of shuffling on the other end of the phone, so Scar waited patiently, letting his mind wander. It had been a week since The Incident at the cove, but Mumbo still hadn’t resurfaced. Scar didn’t blame him of course, Mumbo was the flighty type and Scar himself would have been scared shitless if he had been there (and who knew what they were talking about; Scar’s cameras didn’t have sound), but Scar couldn’t keep himself from worrying.

He had driven out there the moment Etho left, of course he had! Grian made some excuse, as if Scar couldn’t tell when he was lying, but it didn’t matter, because Mumbo was back, and Scar didn’t need to be babysat anyway. Unfortunately, Mumbo hadn’t been around, nor had he been there the next day when Scar had made the trek, so instead he settled on watching the trail cams over the course of the next week. Of course, Mumbo hadn’t shown up, not even once. And Scar reviewed all the footage, even from when he was asleep or away from home- it wasn’t a crime to be excited about your friend, alright?

In the meantime though, since he couldn’t just watch his cameras all day, Scar spent most of his free moments terrorizing Etho.

“Scar! You’re on speaker, I’m watering my plants. Might be a little feedback, I’m moving around. As for plans, not much, but this is going to be the next hour of my life, so, there’s that,” Bdubs mused, and there was a lot of feedback. When Bdubs started to fill his watering can in the sink, Scar couldn’t even hear a thing.

“Perfect! I was just wondering, is Etho home?”

Scar guessed Bdubs didn’t hear much of what he said over the water, but Etho’s name was enough of a clue, Bdubs yelling across the apartment to where his roommate was probably lounging on the couch. “Etho? What do you want me to tell Scar?”

Bdubs shut the water off, and Scar heard the tail end of a groan. “That I’m not here. Bdubs, I told you that is always the answer, you do not have to ask me every time.” There was a bit more grumbling, but Scar couldn’t make it out.

“You might’ve changed your mind. I don’t know,” Bdubs continued, undeterred, “And I got two new plants I wanted to show him, I need help with names.”

“Why would you ask Scar of all people- his names are awful.”

“Hey!” Scar yelled to be heard, but he was deftly ignored.

“I like Scar’s names. They’re dumb, but always kind of sweet, y’know? And when I look at them and remember, it makes me smile.”

Scar preened, cutting in before Etho got another word in, “Why thank you! Yes Bdubs, I would love to come over and look at your plants. Can I invite Grian?”

The surprised silence was a little bit painful, but didn’t last long, “Grian? Sure, I don’t see why not! You guys talking again?”

“Ah- kind of. We’ve been stuck a little bit at the ‘sending cat videos over Instagram’ stage of things for about a month, but we’ve seen each other one or two times since then. Last week actually, we hung out for like an hour. It was nice.”

“Oh no.” A distant Etho said, and after a bit of feedback, Scar heard Bdubs respond sharply,

“Oh no, what?”

Scar cringed a bit, but Etho didn’t seem bothered, an accusatory edge to his voice, “I bet Scar tried bonding with his estranged friend by telling him about all his conspiracies! Just a week ago, that’s when this mermaid business started. Neither of us have even met Grian!”

“Scar wouldn’t do that.” Bdubs defended astutely, Scar following up with his own placating Noooooooo! to which Bdubs turned on him immediately. “Scar! You did not start sharing your Etho conspiracies with Grian, did you?”

“I would never! I would never, Bdubs, you think so little of me!”

“I am uninviting Grian. I can not deal with two idiots interrogating me about random bullshit. Mermaids, spies, aliens- offensive, by the way, Scar, nor was I grown in a tube.”

“I didn’t say you were an alien, just abducted at a young age! Also, that’s what a tube-grown clone would say, just you wait until I find your doppelgänger. I have a feeling you don’t remember, implanted memories and such, but once I get enough evidence you’ll see. Also you can’t uninvite Grian because I didn’t call you. I called Bdubs. And Bdubs invited him.”

“Bdubs! Uninvite Grian.”

“Oh..” Bdubs said, “But I’ve heard so much about him, I really would love to meet him! And you know I’d just love to show off the apartment, it’s been ages since anyone has come over, and so much has changed! Actually, I haven’t even seen most of my friends in like a month. You know, we need to do more group hangouts. I’m going to plan something. I’m going to do it right now.” Again, Bdubs turned on the sink to fill the watering can, and Scar missed 90% of what he was saying, though he did catch an exaggerated groan from Etho.

“Great! I’ll be right over! Unless you wanted to pick me up?”

Bdubs shut the sink water off. “I don’t. It’s a two minute drive, you’ll be fine.”

“See you in ten, then! It’s a lovely day for a walk.”

Bdubs scoffed, and Scar could hear the eye roll over the phone, “Enjoy, then.” Scar smiled, hanging up without another word, and gathering his things for the walk over, only glancing a normal amount of times at his monitor before slipping out the door. He lifted his phone to call Grian, but lost his nerve and texted him instead. They’d talked about this last night, so it wasn’t a surprise or anything; Grian had said that Scar clearly wasn’t any good at needling any information out of Etho, impatient as he always was, but Scar didn’t think Grian would have the tact for this kind of thing. Grian disagreed, and the arrangement was made.

Grian was utterly taken with the idea of a translator, a sentiment Scar didn’t entirely share. It would be nice, yes, and Scar would really love to know the things Mumbo had to say, but he was not optimistic about Etho agreeing to do something like that- he wasn’t even sure Etho knew the language at all. Despite him and Mumbo seeming to get along, that could have just been solidarity between the species, and even though Etho did just randomly show up as a human out of nowhere one day, Scar wasn’t entirely sure if the time before that was spent solely as a mermaid. There could be more than one mermaid language! He and Grian didn’t know anything at all, really.

And if all of these things lined up perfectly (which Grian seemed to think they would), getting Etho to do anything was still a fucking chore. Etho was a man of habit. Once he decided he liked something a certain way, he never wanted to change, and a lot of these little habits could be massive deals like: leaving the house! Most days, Etho did not leave the house, doing freelance work that facilitated that lifestyle (game testing/design/other programming work- Scar didn’t quite remember). When he did leave the house however, he only wanted to do so with Bdubs, holding Bdubs’ hand (his emotional support Bdubs; Etho’s words, not Scar’s), literally going nowhere without being within a few feet of Bdubs, as if the ground might open up and swallow him whole if his roommate strayed out of sight.

And it wasn’t entirely Etho’s fault. He was largely visually impaired, in part due to his albinism, and in other part due to the old injury that spanned across his right eye, leaving him mostly blind and practically devoid of any hand-eye coordination. Bdubs met him in a vulnerable time, so he’d kind of latched on, afraid of most other people for quite a long while, so Scar did understand, he did. However, sometimes Etho’s stubborn mannerisms could be very frustrating, especially since he was often opposed to any and all efforts to find him other accommodations.

Scar had been trying to convince him to get on the waitlist for a service dog for years (among quite a few other things), and that he would even help him train one from scratch (something Scar had always been interested in doing, and he had connections that could help him out), but Etho just wouldn’t budge. Bdubs really loved the idea, and the apartment they’d moved into a couple years ago had been explicitly picked because it allowed dogs, but alas, Etho was Etho, and whenever he and Bdubs made even the tiniest bit of progress to convince him, he would double right back weeks later.

This aversion to leaving the house did not, however, stop Etho from fucking off by himself constantly, which drove Bdubs crazy more than anyone else. If Etho was feeling nice, he’d give about a day’s advance notice, but half the time Bdubs would just come home from work to a note and an extremely unspecified time frame of when Etho would be back. That was part of the reason Bdubs wanted him to have a dog so badly; he really worried when Etho would go off by himself for days at a time, especially when he seemed to be so dependent on Bdubs so often. Though, Scar got the sense Bdubs was just as much an emotional support as he was a physical one, and told him as much on bad days when Bdubs couldn’t quite get out of his own head. Maybe that’s part of why Scar was so frustrated with Etho so often. It didn’t feel fair to Bdubs.

Still, what did Scar know anyway? Etho had been getting a bit better with his agoraphobia as well as general fear of literally everything, and in the past year he’d even gone out alone with Scar or Cleo; mundane things like taking a walk or grocery shopping, but monumental all the same. In hindsight, maybe the reason Etho was so opposed to a service dog was because of the part time mermaid business; he couldn’t exactly take it into the water or take care of it when he was away. Maybe the responsibility was too much pressure? Still, surely he had some control over when he was or wasn’t a mermaid; there had been someone else, someone he was coordinating with. Scar hadn’t known Etho had any other friends. Somehow, this felt just about as monumental as learning magic was real- maybe that was mean, but it was true. The stranger had been dressed oddly as well, though the robe was likely because mermaids didn’t really wear clothes. Pants probably wouldn’t end very well when you’re growing a tail.

He didn’t get much more time to think before he was at Bdubs’ and Etho’s apartment, taking the elevator up after he was buzzed in.

“Hello there!” he announced himself as he walked through the door, greeting Bdubs with a hug and Etho with a wave. He left Etho to whatever he was doing on his laptop, letting Bdubs sweep him away to the new members of the household. Scar named the cactus Squishy, which both of them found hilarious, and the vine Maple, for no other reason than it felt right. Grian arrived just a few minutes later, just as Etho was making sandwiches and Bdubs and Scar were chatting at the kitchen table, but Bdubs got up to greet him, his natural smile coming through. Scar’s own smile fell strained, his fingers curling against the grained wood as he fought to stay seated. Maybe Etho heard the squeak of his chair or his nails against the table, because just a moment later he was behind Scar, setting a plate on the placemat in front of him, and trailing a hand over his shoulder as he returned to the kitchen island. About the extent of Etho’s physical affection, and a gesture Scar appreciated deeply. After setting down two more plates; one for Bdubs and one for Grian, he sat by Scar’s side, leaving the chairs opposite from them open.

Bdubs and Grian didn’t join them immediately, Bdubs eager to give his tour, so Scar found something else to talk about while they waited, Etho offering his own sparse input while he played solitaire instead of eating, the cards laid in place of a plate. Scar wondered absently if Grian’s heart clenched like his did when he heard the other’s voice, or if there was just something wrong with him. He noticed Etho staring from his good eye, though had trouble reading him. Etho never did emote very much, and in combination with the mask, it wasn’t easy. On the other hand, Scar was sure Etho saw right through him.

“How do you like your sandwich?” Etho asked, turning back to his game, though it was quite obvious Scar hadn’t touched it.

“I was waiting,” he said, feeling a bit awkward, but Etho shook his head.

“Don’t.” There was intention there, so Scar didn’t fight him, getting the sense Etho was trying to tell him something he just wasn’t understanding. Maybe he looked less like a kicked puppy when he was eating. Or maybe Scar was just reading too much into it, and Etho just wanted to know how he liked the sandwich. But then again, Etho didn’t ask a second time.

It wasn’t long before Grian and Bdubs joined them though, Scar not noticing at all that Grian chose to sit across from Etho instead of him, but he didn’t get the chance to linger, not with Bdubs’ bright conversation and Etho’s small banter. It was nice, homey.

“So.” Etho started suddenly, Bdubs’ prior story hardly having ended before he spoke up, “When’s the interrogation? You’ve got me on the edge of my seat here,” he said, visibly relaxed as he continued his game, “Still on mermaids, or is it something different? It’s gotta be an event to have invited a partner in crime.”

Grian looked surprised, giving Scar a startled look that made him laugh, “Of course it’s still mermaids, we know, Etho, so it’s best if you admit it now. You’ve got a part time ocean job! That’s where you’re always disappearing to, obviously.”

“I- seriously? Scar, you told me I lack subtly! I didn’t think he knew yet!”

Etho laughed, and Scar did as well, giggling over his mostly eaten sandwich, “I did not say subtly. I said tact. How else am I supposed to get Etho to admit he’s a mermaid if I don’t tell him I think he’s a mermaid?” Scar began eying his glass of water, inching his hand toward it, but faster than a flash, Etho caught his wrist.

“Not again.”

“Not- Scar?” Grian squeaked, Bdubs scoffing in turn.

“Please don’t make another mess, I do not need to ask our neighbors to borrow a mop for the third time this week. If you aren’t going to finish it, water goes in the sink.”

“It was an important experiment!” Scar threw up his hands, Etho’s still attached to his wrist, “The first time could have been a fluke! He’s got to turn into a mermaid somehow!”

“If only it was that easy,” Etho said dryly, and laughed when Grian gaped at him, elbowing Scar, “Your friends are so gullible.”

Scar rolled his eyes. “Okay, in Impulse’s defense, you really played into the abducted by aliens bit- he was concerned! He really thought you were being experimented on!”

“Yeah,” Etho sighed, content, “That was hilarious.” He stopped for a moment, letting go of Scar’s wrist to take the glasses of water to the kitchen island, “This is too dangerous, actually. I will now be removing the temptation.”

“He doesn’t trust me,” Scar side eyed Grian with a small smirk, satisfied when Grian let out an exasperated groan.

“Is this what you’ve been doing all week? Just pouring water on Etho’s head? No wonder he hasn’t admitted anything! Is- do you guys just do this constantly? Make up reasons for his disappearances? No wonder he’s not taking you seriously! Have you even brought up the trail cams yet?”

The entire room froze, like time had completely halted. Bdubs’ eyebrows furrowed, giving Scar a confused look, while Scar put his head in his hands. “..No tact.”

“What?” Grian looked briefly panicked, his voice pitching up an octave, “Did I say something I wasn’t supposed to? What- Scar, why didn’t you tell me? What else haven’t you said?”

Etho hadn’t turned around from his place at the island, just standing there, staring stiff straight ahead. “What cameras, Scar?”

Ah. Yeah. The exact kind of bad tone Scar was really hoping to avoid today and also forever.

“Scar,” Bdubs said darkly, always quick to the defense, “You have not been stalking Etho, have you? You have videos of him?”

“No- It’s not like that, Bdubs, I was watching something else- they’re trail cameras, they’re for animals, the fact that Etho was on them was just chance! I promise I wasn’t deliberately looking out for anyone, it just happened that-“ Scar grit his teeth, struggling to fix this before Bdubs actually caught wind of what was going on, “There’s nothing actually on them. I was hoping to get some cool footage of the deer in the forest preserve by the lake, the one without trails or anything. Just saw Etho through one of them, thought it was an odd coincidence. I know you’re very particular about your privacy, Etho,” Scar shot Grian a sharp look, Grian not getting the message in the slightest and bristling through his panic.

“You didn’t tell me-“

“Sorry.” Scar interrupted him through gritted teeth, “I shouldn’t have shown anyone. Just got excited, I wasn’t thinking. Thought you met one of my friends, that’s all.” If there was any doubt about exactly what Scar and Grian had seen before, now there was none, as obvious as the tenseness in Etho’s back when Scar said the words out loud. Bdubs noticed it too, of course he noticed. Scar just hoped he didn’t pick up on the hurried lie.

“You should go.” Bdubs said, just as tired as he sounded angry, but his voice softened when he turned to Grian, “I’m really sorry. Now’s just a bad time.”

“I understand,” Grian got to his feet, looking relieved for an excuse to run, “I didn’t realize.. I’m sorry. Your apartment is lovely, truly, and lunch was great as well. Thank you.”

“Scar.” Bdubs turned a glare his way, and Scar was up and away in the same moment, passing Grian on his retreat to the door. For a moment, Scar considered taking the elevator, then came to the conclusion that nothing would be worse than getting in a small box with a furious Grian. Unfortunately for him, Grian followed him down the stairs, and not even his own long legs could keep him far enough from his wrath.

“Scar.” Grian’s venom was a quiet hiss, potent enough to knock him over, “What was that? Seriously! What the fuck? Why didn’t you tell me you hadn’t said anything! I didn’t realize you were just poking fun all week! I thought you were serious about this!”

“I thought- I thought- I don’t know! I thought we were just going to hang out, have a little fun! I thought you might want to meet Etho and- I don’t know! I didn’t expect you to say anything in front of Bdubs, come on! I didn’t think I had to tell you! I just thought you would know that!”

“You don’t think Bdubs knows?”

“I- Grian, of course he doesn’t know! What gave you any impression he did?”

“You- seriously!? You’ve been telling me all week about this friend that disappears or locks himself in the bathroom for days at a time and you don’t think his roommate who you tell me he’s extremely codependent on has any idea? I don’t believe that at all!”

“Etho is very protective of his privacy, Grian, and Bdubs respects that. I promise you, he doesn’t know. Etho takes his secrets to the grave.”

“I just don’t believe it. I don’t.”

“Come on, Grian!” Scar didn’t mean to shout, but he wasn’t very sorry either. Grian only came down harder on his heels, nearly tripping him down the stairs.

“What? What?” Grian growled, stomping as he went, “This is insane. You’re just expecting me to accept that Bdubs asks zero questions? That Etho just doesn’t eat when he’s locked himself up? You told me Etho can’t drive, so how does he get from place to place when he’s got to go to the water?”

Scar seethed, and it took all of his self control to keep walking. “It’s nice to hear you know more about my friends than I do, Grian. If you must know, it’s been quite a point of contention for them for years! Maybe you have to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong to get information out of your friends, but mine actually like to talk to me, so I’d appreciate it if you believed me when I tell you for certain Bdubs doesn’t know, and even if I didn’t explicitly tell you not to say that shit, maybe it should have been common sense!” Scar stepped hard onto the lobby’s landing, huffing as he strode toward the front entrance, but was stopped short as Grian grabbed the back of his jacket, yanking hard.

“So this is my fault now? Go on, Scar, if you’re thinking it, then say it. Turn around and say it to my face. Say it!”

“What’re you gonna do,” Scar scorned, pushing Grian off his back, “Throw a fit in the lobby? Hit me? You don’t even care about Etho, you’re just interested in what he can give you. People like you are the reason he has to hide.”

“I hope you’re not implying what I think you are, Scar.” Grian’s eyes were dark, but Scar couldn’t have given less of a fuck.

“Come on,” Scar sneered, “Don’t think I didn’t notice. The minute you stopped looking at Mumbo as a way to make a quick buck, you stopped caring altogether. You didn’t even want to see him when he came back! He’s not worth your time anymore. No one’s-” Grian reared back, and Scar didn’t get to finish before Grian nailed him in the jaw, sending him stumbling. And fuck if it didn’t feel good.

Scar saw red, lunging forward and grabbing fistfuls of Grian’s sweater before shoving him to the ground. Grian did not go down easy, kicking forcefully at Scar’s legs, then getting ahold of his shirt and dragging him the rest of the way down with a strength Scar didn’t know he possessed.

“You hurt me!” someone wailed, and after a moment, Scar was pretty sure it was him, only nearly rolling out of the way as Grian threw another punch.

“I want to!” Grian shrieked in return, winding back, but Scar kicked him before he could finish, leaping on top before he could sit up. Grian battered Scar’s stomach with his legs, and Scar found himself wrestling blindly on the floor, clawing at skin and sweaters for any purchase at all. The ding of the elevator stopped both of them in their tracks. Scar was only aware he was on top, only aware his hand was raised when someone grabbed it, yanking him up and right out the two sets of front doors. Scar just let himself be dragged to his feet and away, bodily awareness returning slower than the time it took him to walk an entire block. He only realized Grian was trailing after them two blocks later. Them. Etho, walking so far ahead of him, the two of their arms were taut. He did not speak. He did not look back. Well. Scar was a little too in shock to do either of those things anyway.

Etho brought them to one part of the forest preserve close to their houses, the least populated part, typically known for its unkempt trails and thin walking paths with not much to see, so, perfect for being yelled at probably. Which Etho seemed eager to do, since they didn’t even get five feet onto the trail before Etho turned, still aggressively holding Scar’s hand. The few seconds he waited for Grian to catch up were some of the tensest in Scar’s life.

“It is just my luck,” Etho began, and Scar was pretty sure he’d never been more afraid in his entire life, “That I happen to know the two idiots in the entire country who’ve befriended a fucking mermaid.”

Scar didn’t say a word. Neither did Grian.

“Does anyone else know?”

Scar looked at Grian. Grian looked at Scar.

“No,” Scar said.

Etho sighed raggedly, shoulders falling, “Okay. Okay. I need you to tell me exactly what was on those cameras. And if you haven’t deleted the footage, you will. Actually, I’d like to go to your place and watch you delete it. I need. The peace of mind.”

Scar looked at Grian. Grian looked at Scar.

“Will one of you two just talk to me?”

Scar pursed his lips, looking at Grian. Grian looked right back. Scar glanced guiltily at Etho, then right back to Grian, and Grian looked-

“Scar. Scar. Tell me what you saw.”

“Uh-” Scar startled, finding this a little unfair since he had answered the last question, but Etho was very scary and looking at him expectantly, so there wasn’t much else he could do, “We saw you and Mumbo. The mermaid. And we saw you laying on the beach for a while. And then Mumbo came back, and you didn’t look so good. And there was that other guy-”

“So you saw everything,” Etho cut him off flatly, looking tired. Scar nodded feverishly, and beside him Grian did the same. Etho let go of Scar’s hand, only to put his head in his own. “What are the chances.”

“Do you speak his language? The same language as Mumbo?” Grian piped up, and Scar shot him a startled look, to which Grian glared back, to which Scar glared back, to which-

“Uhm,” Etho sounded confused, removing his hands from his face, “Yes? I imagine we grew up in the same place.. Don’t ask questions about where I’m from. Actually, don’t ask me anything at all. Don’t talk to me.”

But Grian lit up, eyes shining brighter than Scar had ever seen them, “I told you!” he shot back at Scar, who folded his arms, but Grian was not deterred, turning back to a frightened looking Etho, “Will you teach me? I want to learn it, I want to talk to him. I want to know what he’d say to us if he could- so you grew up a mermaid? You learned English! Could you teach him English? I- I mean we’re already teaching him, but it would be so much easier if you could help us!” Grian cut himself off, looking sheepish before continuing, “Is he- do you know if Mumbo’s actually a guy? I mean, I doubt he cares what we call him, but I was just thinking about that the other day, we don’t actually know.”

“I- no? No, no, and no, no, I am not doing any of that. Why do you even-? No. And Mumbo isn’t anything, we don’t do gender, but he did tell us he liked the pronouns you gave him, so hey, there you go.”

“I-I want to thank him! And I want to tell him I’m sorry.”

Etho stared for a moment, stunned, and Scar found himself similarly shocked, giving Grian his own wide eyed stare. “That’s.. Sweet,” Etho finally said, conflict creasing his brow. “Well.. thank you is,” ‘Thank you,’ “and I’m sorry is,” ‘Sorry.’ Etho snapped as he whistled, presumably in intervals where a mermaid would have clicked. “I guess I can send Scar voice memos if you want them, but full offense, I do not want your number.”

“What?? Why not!”

“I think you’re going to be very annoying.”

Scar snorted, and Grian snapped to face him, looking about two seconds away from committing manslaughter, but he seemed to calm himself down enough to speak to Etho again. “Okay. Fine. Then tell me how to say ‘I’m sorry I took advantage of your trust and tried to shoot you in the face.’”

Etho, deadpan, started to translate, but Scar interrupted him with a startled, “You did WHAT?”

“Yeah,” Grian said, the notes in his voice all casual. He looked at his nails, almost bored, “Came out right after he bit you. He had no idea. Wanted to know what it was I was holding.”

“I- I can’t believe you! And you never told me? What else have you done and never said a word about?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Okay, enough of this, I don’t care,” Etho pushed between them in a forceful huff, “Scar, take me to your house. I’ll send you the thing for Grian later, and as an apology for screaming at each other so loud we could hear you on the fourth floor, you’re going to walk me home. And never talk about this ever again.”

“Okay, wait, I don’t actually want to say that to Mumbo-“

“Come on then.” Grabbing at Scar’s hand, Etho started to drag him the other direction, ignoring the offended sound Grian made behind him.

“I’m not just going to go away.” Grian huffed, following at Scar’s heel, “We have to walk the same direction. And I don’t agree to these terms either, I have quite a bit to say to you.”

“Annoying.” Was all Etho had to say to that, and Scar could hear Grian seething behind them. He wasn’t about to push his luck with Etho though and stayed quiet, walking at his side instead of awkwardly behind him. Grian (pointedly, Scar imagined) didn’t even stop when Scar and Etho turned off onto the street that led to Scar’s house, not looking their way or saying goodbye, and most definitely pissed off this didn’t go his way. Scar was glad for it. He was glad to be right. He was glad to feel ugly.

…

Etho stuttered to a stop when he reached Scar’s desk, and Scar only remembered now that he should probably feel embarrassed about this. Even Grian had been surprised and possibly a little concerned, but sue Scar for caring about his friends! Four cameras displayed on two separate monitors wasn’t even that many. It was like he was the only person on the planet that thought mermaids were cool!

“This is.. Wow, Scar.” If Etho was trying to hide how judgemental he sounded, he was doing a poor job, but then again, it was Etho, so he probably didn’t care to preserve Scar’s feelings. “This is always going?”

“Yeah.” Scar said shortly, sitting down to pull up the footage from the prior week, and aching at the thought of deleting it. And he would, obviously he would for Etho, it was just.. the first videos he had of Mumbo. It didn’t matter how grainy the footage was, it was Mumbo, and he was coming back, coming home to see them. God Scar wanted to see him. But honestly, it would probably be best for Mumbo as well if no photos or videos of him existed anywhere. The last thing Scar wanted was for something awful to happen to him. “Here it is,” Scar leaned back, showing Etho the sped up clip. In the end, it didn’t matter much if Scar deleted it; he’d already watched the whole thing like a hundred times, basically committing it to memory.

“You really did see everything,” Etho breathed, and Scar nodded numbly, chin resting on his hands as he watched. “I gave Mumbo quite the fright. I feel a little bad about it.”

“You should feel bad. He hasn’t come back.” Scar had to fight to keep his voice even, but Etho wasn’t stupid, looking a bit awkward as he shifted his weight.

“Sorry ‘bout that. I didn’t know. I mean, I really didn’t know, obviously, but if it helps you feel any better, I doubt he’ll be gone for long. He really likes you guys, was excited to show you all the stuff he brought up from deeper waters.” Etho paused for a long moment, staring at his hands. Earlier in the week, they had painted each other’s nails, and the paint on Etho’s was already chipping. He always did enjoy peeling it off.

“You could apologize yourself, y’know. Come out and see him, at least once.”

“Ehhh,” Etho shrugged his shoulders close to his body, his frown evident even through the mask, “I don’t know about that, Scar. I doubt he likes me very much anymore anyway. Mermaids can be jumpy things, and he was very kind, but nervous. He didn’t like Joel at all, which is reasonable; there’s not a single person on the planet that likes Joel, and that’s the way he prefers it. I just mean to say he probably associates the two of us now, and even if he liked me before, he probably sees me as a threat now. If you think about it, we kinda came in and trashed his safe place with a bunch of bullshit. He will not be pleased.”

“Joel.. The other guy? Your secret friend?”

Etho snorted, “Friend is a strong word.”

Scar frowned, worry creasing his brow. Etho seemed a little alarmed by the expression, but Scar spoke before he got the chance to backpedal, “Is.. Who is he, then? Is he..” Scar trailed off, searching for the right word. It was a little hard to get over how uncomfortable Etho looked before the change, and even afterwards, Scar couldn’t imagine it being anything less than painful, “hurting you..?” Scar decided on, and Etho looked away, back to the screens.

“It’s complicated. Joel’s a weird guy,” Etho didn’t look very much like he wanted to elaborate, but Scar’s supremely Unsatisfied With That Answer face seemed to convince him, “Joel is.. I don’t know. He lives on a small island off the coast, concealed from most human sights; maps, satellites, and such. I believe he was cursed, or maybe banished there at some point- even knowing him for so long, most of the details are unclear. I don’t even know if he was ever born, or just- made by someone else, messing with forces they definitely shouldn’t. All this to say, I don't think he has parents, and it's quite up in the air about whether or not he has a conscience either. He doesn’t really see the world or the people in it as anything beyond how it can entertain or benefit him. So when I ended up washing up at his shores, he thought he might be able to use me to escape. Get off the island, you know? He was half right.”

“Do I need to beat the piss out of this guy?”

“No,” Etho said, all too simply, “He’d probably just wipe you off the face of the Earth, literally. I don’t know exactly what he is, but he’s got some sort of power over the island. You’ll never see it, he would never let you, but the place he’s made for himself is beautiful. He doesn’t do much else besides terraform it and watch unsuspecting ships crash into it and laugh at them; really, he’s not a pleasant guy. Extremely arguably not human, either. I don’t know much about it, I’ve never gotten to meet his.. relatives. Heavy quotes there. Doubt they’d be very pleased that the embodiment of pure evil they created found a way to leave the little island prison he is confined to.”

Scar stared, pretending to understand any of that made any sense. “This all makes perfect sense to me.”

Etho scoffed a small laugh, “Welcome to the club. Imagine that’s your only exposure to ‘humanity’ for two years, and then you finally get out into the real world and realize that actually magic doesn’t exist anywhere and that guy that peeled you off the rocks was an outlier. Anyway, it was pretty cool to figure out people were nice. But yeah, basically, my understanding of what he did to me was split our souls? We share them, kind of, which means a whole lot of bullshit, but mainly it means that he doesn’t start melting every time he sets foot off the island. He doesn’t melt at all as a mermaid, though he’s just about as reclusive as it gets, so he hangs around anyway, terraforming the underwater bits of his island. Apparently there’s a lot of safeguards meant to keep him trapped there, but they don’t account for species changes. And no, I don’t know why I don’t melt. He thought I would for ages, but apparently spellwork attaches to people specifically, and doesn’t transfer over soulbounds? I don’t know.”

“You’re losing me here, Etho.”

“Yeah. That's about 80% of the reason I didn’t tell Mumbo anything. Because then he’d ask questions, and I’d just have to shrug my shoulders and say I don’t know, because literally, I do not know. I’ve just started accepting these things as they happen to me. It really doesn’t help that Joel is a compulsive liar. But I guess to kind of answer your question, no, this was not voluntary, and I have very little control over whether I’m human or not. Joel has too much power over me for me to call him a friend, but as a placeholder, it works. I wouldn’t go back though, if you were wondering. To being a mermaid. I’m happy, much happier than I was in the ocean; I just couldn’t quite find my place. And you guys have computers, seriously, that shit is awesome.” Scar thought he saw a ghost of a smile under Etho’s mask, but it quickly vanished, “Of course, my life is now in serious jeopardy, but if all else fails, I guess I’ll just go back to the island and live there full time again.” Etho shrugged, and Scar frowned, fidgeting.

“We aren’t going to tell anyone, Etho. I can promise you that, really. Neither of us have said a word about Mumbo- we both know what could happen. I don’t want either of you to be killed or sold off somewhere or anything, especially not you, god.” Scar paused, closing his eyes and bracing himself, “And I.. I really think you should tell Bdubs.”

“No.”

“Come on, Etho, just listen-”

“No. And that’s the end of it. I don’t care who it is or how much I trust them or even the extent they would go to keep this secret a secret, I will not take any risks. And Bdubs respects that, he respects that some things I’d rather keep to myself, so it’s none of your business whether I tell him anything at all. You don’t get a say, not when your life isn’t on the line. I have very little control over my life, Scar, and now there’s two more people out there that have more power over me than I do. So if you really love me, you won’t say a word about this ever again.”

“I-” Scar looked helplessly at his hands, unable to look Etho’s intensity in the eyes. “Okay. I’m sorry. I won’t ask again.”

Etho’s shoulders relaxed substantially, and he closed his eyes for a long while, silence slowly chipping away at the tension. Scar didn’t dare break it. Eventually, Etho did so himself, “And Joel’s alright. He’s not alright for you or anyone else, but he’s alright for me. I like him. He really likes me; a bit clingy, honestly. He doesn’t really.. he doesn’t know how to respect me as a person, but he’s trying. It’s easy enough to ignore. We get along, so it's nothing for you to worry about. But if it’s okay, that’s all I really want to talk about him right now.” Etho quieted, and Scar nodded, not entirely knowing what to do with this.

“I’m sorry,” he said instead, “I’m sorry this happened to you. And I.. I mean, I don’t understand it all, but I hope you’ll find a bit more power over your own life.”

Etho nodded, but in acknowledgment rather than agreement, “I won’t.”

There was nothing else to say. Scar deleted the footage without another word, showing Etho in every way he could manage that it was gone, not because the other asked, but because he wanted to. He wanted Etho to feel safe. Though, no matter how long Scar scoured his face, it was impossible to tell.

“Alright,” Etho stood a little straighter after it was done, “I’m going to head out now. I know I asked you to walk me back, but I actually think I’d rather be alone right now. Thank you, Scar.”

Scar blinked, surprised, “Are you sure? Bdubs wouldn’t mind driving over if you wanted him to. He’s probably worried, you know how he gets.”

“I want to be alone right now.”

And that was that.

The front door clicked shut as Etho exited, not even wanting to be walked to the door, and Scar was left to lay in bed and sit on everything he had learned. None of it made any more sense with the passing of time, and Scar felt so overloaded with information, he was finding it easier just to accept it all without question. My friend was a mermaid. Still is, but part time. He’s got some sort of magic bond with some freak that treats him poorly, but apparently they hang out just fine. Friend might be a demon. Those might as well be real. Magic is real. Kind of. Scar wasn’t sure if that one would process in his brain anytime soon. And how did this damn island work? If people disappeared on it, surely someone would notice eventually. Surely the government knew, or something. Maybe the government already knew magic existed. They must, right?

It kind of sounded like Joel killed people. Was anyone going to do anything about that? Damn, if Etho ever decided to talk about any of this stuff, that would be the craziest rage room session of all time. He wouldn’t, though. A shame.

At this point, Scar kind of felt like his brain was going to explode, so he simply stopped thinking about it. Unsuccessfully. Then he laughed out loud when he imagined trying to explain everything Etho had told him to Grian. Grian the control freak, who needed to know every detail in order to be satisfied, who would needle you for hours if that’s how long it took him to get the facts straight. Grian was a pretty good mediator among their many interconnected friend groups for that reason; he came with his own biases of course, but when it came down to it, he just wanted to get the whole story, and that was useful for working out miscommunications.

Grian. Nothing about him was satisfying. God, Scar was angry, he was so angry, and that felt bad, but so much better than being sad and awkward all the time, and suddenly Scar wanted nothing more than to be back on the dingy carpet of the apartment lobby, hissing and grunting and beating the piss out of each other; finish what they started. But he couldn’t exactly do that, so he took a shower about it instead, head resting idly against the tile as the water ran down his back. About an hour of that passed before he got bored of it, so he got out, not even remembering if he washed his hair, and collapsed once more onto his bed. The thought still hadn’t left his head. He eyed his phone dangerously.

Etho had sent him a text telling him he got home safe, no doubt sent after Bdubs pestered him to do so. Pearl had asked something about needing to buy some more supplies for the sanitation department at the zoo, which Scar okayed without even looking at the list. He opened Grian’s messages.

‘Are you sober?’ Scar watched the screen idly, eyes half lidded, but perked up a bit when Grian answered quickly.

‘yes? it’s 3:00 Scar’

‘why.’

Scar typed and deleted the message for five whole minutes, struggling to put his thoughts to words. Well. At this point, there was no sugarcoating this.

‘I want to fight. And then get very drunk. And then maybe fight again. And then throw up probably’

‘We didn’t get to finish’

‘would feel irresponsible asking if you were not sober’

‘how sweet’

‘I’ll be right over. I want to trash your house’

‘I did not invite you.’

Grian did not respond. Scar didn’t need to wait more than a minute before knowing he wasn’t going to. Fine then. Good to know he wasn’t the only person here that was fucked in the head.

And ten minutes later, Grian was knocking at his door. Knocking continuously, obnoxiously, until he seemed to remember Scar had a doorbell, and then he focused most of his energy on ringing that a thousand and one times. By the time Scar made it to the door, Grian had evolved his strategy to do both at the same time. Scar flung the door open to a smug looking Grian, and promptly slammed it in his face the moment he moved to step inside. The muffled yelp through the wall was deeply satisfying, and when Scar reopened the door, Grian was cradling his nose. Scar couldn’t help but crack a smirk.

“Not so smug now, are you?”

Grian opened his mouth to speak, once again moving to step forward, but Scar slammed the door closed again, pushing with his whole body in the case Grian tried to stop it with his hand, then cackled when Grian yelped a second time, his shoes scuffing on the pavement outside.

“You are SO childish!”

“And you’re a damn bore.” Scar began to open the door once more, but was surprised when Grian burst through it, grabbing Scar by the collar and yanking him down so hard their heads collided, both of them reeling, but Grian not letting go. The silence was long as they both recovered, heads still close enough that Scar could smell Grian’s ragged breaths.

“You.” Grian pushed out through gritted teeth, “Smell nice.”

Ah! So he must have washed his hair after all. “Just showered,” Scar said simply, and Grian sniggered, glaring through narrowed eyes.

“For me?”

“Not quite. Just had to after touching you, makes me feel dirty. Doesn’t matter how often you shower, you’ll never stop smelling like fish-“ Scar didn’t quite get to finish, Grian slamming him against the wall opposite of the front door, which, by the way, was still wide open.

“I wonder how long it’ll take you to start smelling like manure again. Guess we’ll find out when you start to sweat.”

“I suppose we will. Mind closing the door?”

“What, afraid someone’ll see you getting your teeth kicked in?”

“Yes, actually, I’d rather not have the police called on us, thank you very much.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“Fuck off.” Scar shoved hard, and Grian stumbled back against the amour by the door, knocking the keybowl clattering to the floor. Scar shut the door, eying Grian smugly, “Did you really think I wasn’t letting you hold me? Come on G, you’re not that strong.”

Grian huffed, lunging for his arms instead of answering, and the next few moments were spent fighting over wrists, grabbing and pulling and yanking for any kind of control. Scar hit another wall, just barely tackling Grian under a punch. But Scar couldn’t quite drag him to the ground like he so desperately wanted, and fell hard as Grian kneed his stomach, stealing his air. Scar did end up getting his wish of taking this to the floor, but instead with Grian’s hands like vices around his wrists and the wind knocked out of him. Not.. ideal.

“One minute,” he wheezed, and Grian snickered, digging his nails around Scar’s wrists.

“Did someone get more than he bargained for?” Grian cooed, “You’d look so pretty with a black eye, don’t you think?” Grian raised his fist, but Scar just barely caught it before it could collide with his face, his own hand still smashing painfully against his nose.

“Aren’t you just a little flirt today?” Scar sneered, yanking Grian’s arm down and throwing the rest of him off balance, then kicking him into the opposite wall.

“No,” Grian grunted, gritting his teeth as Scar shoved him up by his arms, shoulders battering the wall, “I just tell it like it is. Whether or not you think it’s flirting is a you problem.”

“Alright,” Scar huffed, shaking out his hair. He lifted Grian off the wall and slammed him back against it, pinning him harshly against his chest, “Then I think you look quite nice yourself, hunched over and panting like a dog.” Scar narrowed his eyes, dark. “Just telling it like it is.”

Grian kissed him. It wasn’t nice, nor was it pretty, and Scar was too startled to even move against it, only jerking back after another moment.

“What the fuck was that?” Scar spat, new anger coiling in his gut, but Grian didn’t flinch, eyes narrow and even.

“Whatever you want it to be, I suppose.”

Well.

Scar had known the answer to that question for a while, hadn’t he? Grian’s lips were chapped, unpleasant to the touch, as he was sure his own were as well. But it wasn’t much of a problem, not as tongues collided, as Scar remembered every unpleasant sensation of making out with someone, still intoxicating all the same. Sick. They were both sick in the head, weren’t they? Scar was dizzy with it- actually, on second thought..

“Grian,” Scar breathed, forehead resting on Grian’s own, “We should probably.. get checked out by a doctor.. or something.”

“What?” Grian laughed, a breathy thing with little sound, “Like, for mental illnesses?”

“No, for concussions. But. Also that, probably,” Scar joined him in laughing despite himself, breathing heavily against Grian’s chest, and eugh, yeah no, he was definitely still dizzy, but at the same time..

“Maybe,” Grian’s lips grazed Scar’s cheek, settling around his jaw, still tender from when Grian had punched him. The bruise was dark the last time Scar had checked. “But I believe you promised me we’d get ‘very drunk’ earlier, and I haven’t forgotten. Where else have you bruised I wonder,” Grian mumbled, pressing a kiss to the tender skin. Scar whined, looking away, and Grian giggled, pressing light kisses to his throat instead.

“That’s.. dangerous.”

“You think I’m dangerous, Scar?” Grian pushed impossibly close, and despite being the one on top, Scar felt as trapped as if he’d been pinned.

“Well, yes,” he admitted, suddenly feeling a bit shy, moreso when Grian giggled against his neck, “I was still talking about the concussions though. And drinking. Y’know.”

“Hm,” Grian considered him thoughtfully, though it was a bit distracting to feel the vibrations against his skin, “You make a good point.” Grian paused, lips gliding to the corner of Scar’s own, “Then whatever you decide, I’ll follow. Personally, I’d love to wake up tomorrow regretting today.” Grian’s fingers trailed up Scar’s side, thumb brushing below his shirt and making him shiver.

“Likewise,” Scar murmured, letting Grian trail soft kisses across his jaw, “Well.. Let’s see where this goes, hm?” With the way Grian was looking at him, Scar was starting to get a pretty good idea of exactly where this was going, and he didn’t have a single complaint. “Yeah,” he sighed, closing his eyes, “Let’s make a mess.”

pinglist (just ask if you’d like to be added): @dakotas-hermitblr-pogg

#hermitcraft #hermitfic #hermitshipping #not the good kind though they’re monsters #scarian #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #bdubs #bdoubleo100 #grian #etho #ethoslab #mumbomaid au #mumbo jumbo #smallishbeans #joel smallishbeans

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frozenjokes · 2 months

Text

Something Somber, But I Hope At Least I Can Do My Best To Help You

there are guns in this fic, this is the warning for that. she’s (the fic) is a tad angsty

“I’m going to kill you now.”

Grian stood in the shallow water, holding some sort of human device in his hands. He was alone today, but it was possible Scar was just recovering from his injuries at home. That would make sense. However, Mumbo did find it a little odd that Grian hadn’t brought much of his stuff, the bag left in the grass looking deflated in comparison to how full it usually was. Grian wasn’t moving very much, very stiff as he pointed whatever he was holding at Mumbo’s face. He looked.. a little upset? It didn’t really look like he wanted Mumbo to have it, he was holding it so tightly, but Mumbo was getting a little confused about what exactly the purpose of this was.

Mumbo leaned a little closer to sniff, but Grian winced, taking a couple steps back. Well. Guess that answers that. Mumbo’s fins rose and fell on his back and head, twitching with annoyance. Why did Grian call him over if all he wanted to do was stare?

“What,” Mumbo said, hoping Grian would at least try to explain whatever it was he was holding and why he wanted to show it off, but Grian remained stiff, lips pursed.

“You don’t get it. You don’t- I’m going to kill you, and you don’t understand. Do something. Get mad or hiss at me or lunge or something. Defend yourself.”

Ah, so he was upset. If he was trying to communicate why, he wasn’t doing a very good job. Mumbo wasn’t even sure if this was about Scar; he didn’t think so, Grian never said Scar’s name, but he wasn’t sure what else. Wait, could he still be mad about the whole bag stealing thing? That was so long ago! If that was the case, that was sufficiently a Grian problem, learn to let go of a grudge, buddy.

“What,” Mumbo asked again, hoping Grian would do a better job at explaining himself.

Grian huffed as if his own inability to be clear was Mumbo’s fault, “This is a gun. Gun,” Grian moved the device a little in his hands, but didn’t hold it any less tightly, “I am going to shoot you with it. I am going to kill you.”

Mumbo stared blankly. Alright, the thing he was holding was a ‘gun.’ Great. Was he going to show him what it did, or were they just going to sit here for another twenty minutes. Mumbo didn’t mean to be so impatient, but honestly, Grian was being stupid and Mumbo’s tail was still in quite a lot of pain, worse in the shallows.

“I can’t- you don’t get it. And you know, it’s nothing against you. It’s not. Well..” Grian paused, thinking, then shook his head, “No, it’s nothing against you, even if you stole all my shit and fucked up my ankle- I might have a limp for the rest of my life, y’know! I probably won’t. But I might! You tore through all sorts of important shit in there.”

Mumbo wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be understanding what Grian was saying, but the human didn’t look like it planned on stopping, so Mumbo let it be. Still, he kept a slightly warier eye.

“And I’m not sorry, by the way. About your tail. You deserved that as far as I’m concerned, stealing my stuff then trying to sing me into the water after I was injured- I know your game. That’s what you guys do. You kill people. At best you’re like- like a public nuisance. But you’re dangerous, I know you’re dangerous and I..” Grian trailed off, looking away, “I’m just afraid Scar doesn’t know.”

Ah. There it was. So this was about Scar.. oh, Mumbo hoped he was okay. Scar hadn’t looked like he was hurt too badly, but then again, anything could have happened. The bite could have gotten infected or was deeper than Mumbo had thought, or any other number of things. Given how upset Grian seemed to be, something must have happened.

“Scar doesn’t have a very strong sense of self preservation, he never has, and it drives just about everyone in his life up a wall. I don’t know why or what’s wrong with him or if he’s got some sort of mental health issue he isn’t addressing, but it’s always been this way and- and he just gets so focused. Like he gets an idea in his head and he literally can’t think of anything but pursuing it. And when I say literally, I mean it. He doesn’t think about anything else! I don’t even know if he can! You would not believe how much he talks about you, it’s all ‘Mumbo Mumbo Mumbo! Mumbo this, Mumbo that,’ and because we have to keep you a secret, all of this goes to me and-” Grian cut himself off, taking a second to breath.

“It’s not that I care. Scar can talk my ear off all he wants about anything he wants. Sure, it can be a little much and I get frustrated with him from time to time, but at the end of the day, he picked me, y’know? There’s a guy that can talk his way into anything he wants, who can make friends with basically anyone, and he still.. he wants to talk to me. And that’s a special thing, y’know? Scar is a special kind of guy. And it just kills me when he tries to throw his life away!” Grian kicked up sand and water as his voice rose through gritted teeth, and Mumbo jumped back, startled, though he immediately regretted the motion, hissing in a soft whine at the pain that pulsed through his tail. Grian stared at him for a long while, still pointing his ‘gun,’ but his shoulders fell.

“He’s going to be mad at me. For killing you. Doesn’t matter how many times I said I was going to or how many times I told him he couldn’t interfere if I let him come and see you. He’s going to feel bad, then I’m probably going to feel bad, and we’ll probably both feel very bad for a while, but it’ll be fine because Scar will be alive. That’s what matters, in the end. Not mermaids, not money- well, actually I won’t go that far. I’m going to sell the shit out of your body and I’ll probably be very well off for the rest of my life. I think I’m allowed to want that too! I think that’s fair.”

“And I’ll have you know, Scar’s not innocent either, he still wants you in his zoo even if he doesn’t talk about it around here anymore. As if you’d even understand. I’m telling you to your face I’m going to kill you and sell all your body parts and you couldn’t give less of a fuck. It’s impressive almost, how neutral your face is right now. You look a bit like one of those dogs from those kennel ads? All of them looking all sad with the sad music trying to make you feel sad so you go out and adopt. That’s how you look all the time. It’s the eyes. All big and dark like that. Ugh.”

Mumbo wasn’t sure what to do. Clearly this human was in some kind of distress, but the more it talked, the more he was sure he had no clue what was actually going on. Had it come looking for some sort of comfort? Why Mumbo? Out of everyone Grian knew, surely Mumbo was the least qualified by far.

Did.. he know anyone else? Humans were social animals, Mumbo knew this, but mermaids were too, and even despite this, some had trouble fitting in. Mumbo had never seen another human other than Scar hang around with Grian.. maybe while Scar was healing and resting, he just didn’t have anyone else to go to.

Well, Mumbo knew a few things about humans. They liked to talk (loudly) and yell at each other (loudly) and call each other’s names and be obnoxious to each other for fun. Though, given Mumbo did not speak human, this seemed out of the question in terms of things he could do to help.

Humans.. liked touch. Mumbo was pretty sure of that, no matter how foreign it always seemed. Scar was always touching Grian affectionately, and despite the latter never looking all too thrilled, he never really reacted negatively either, sometimes even visibly relaxing. Is.. that what Grian was looking for?

Mumbo steeled himself, less for the pain of maneuvering in shallow water and more for reaching out his hand toward the human ahead. Sure, maybe they’d had a rocky start, but Grian was clearly in distress. If Mumbo could show him that he cared, maybe Grian would understand he meant to be friendly? Even still, he found his head and body cringing back in anticipation of The Touch, though he kept his arm extended, one eye still watching anxiously.

Grian looked.. well, honestly, Mumbo couldn’t tell if he was any more or less distressed than before, but it felt a little bit different than before?

“What.” Grian said, looking rapidly from his gun to Mumbo to Mumbo’s hand, eyebrows pinched, “What is this. What are you doing.”

Ah, yeah, that made sense. This was pretty radically different behavior for Mumbo; if he was on the other side of it, he’d be wary too. Though, he didn’t quite have the words to explain himself. For a moment Mumbo considered singing, something soft and somber so Grian might understand his intentions, but given how the human reacted last time he sang.. no, that would be a bad idea.

‘Red,’ he whistled instead, “Grian.” Mumbo’s gills flared gently, frustrated. Why was this so hard. Maybe Grian was put off by how uncomfortable Mumbo looked.. maybe looking a little less like touching Grian was one of the top ten worst things that could possible happen to him would be a start.

Mumbo strained to get a little closer despite the pain, holding out both of his arms instead of just the one, palms up. He managed to open both of his eyes, though they were still pretty narrowed in the bracing anticipation of something unpleasant. He even tried to face Grian completely instead of shying away, though he couldn’t quite force himself to manage that entirely. Grian’s mouth hung open, like breathing that way might give him more information on what exactly was happening here. Unfortunately, intention was not something humans could smell.

Grian slowly, slowly lowered his gun, not letting go, but not holding so tightly either, leaving it in one hand at his side. His arms were shaking- actually, mostly of him was shaking.. Mumbo wasn’t quite sure what that meant. Likely a symptom of human distress; it didn’t seem voluntary, quite unlike the quivering of mermaid fins when they were very angry.

Mumbo snapped back to reality when Grian moved, taking a slow step forward. Then another. Then another.

‘It’s okay. This is okay. I’m sorry about Scars, and I’m sorry you’re worried. I think you’re worried. That human seems like it’s survived quite a few injuries though, I think it’ll be okay. I thought you were going to hurt each other, and even now, I’m not entirely sure you weren’t. Mermaids have thick skin. You do not. Humans are too fragile, you can’t be fighting each other like that.’

“You’ve been watching us, haven’t you. I mean, of course you have, but this is.. I guess you’ve really been paying attention. Is that what we sound like to you, just all sorts of nothing speech all day? I bet that gets annoying. I’ve never heard you talk this much. I guess your language is also pretty complex. It must be, unless you’re just repeating the same few concepts. It’s hard to tell. Are you really that intelligent? Wow, if you knew what I just said you’d probably be offended. But I just- I mean you’re just a big fish, yeah? It would be crazy to just assume you had comparable intelligence just because you kinda look like a person. But that’s what Scar thinks of course.”

‘I have no idea what you’re saying, but I’m pretty sure this is how human conversation works. You take turns talking for long periods of time and stare very uncomfortably at each other’s faces. This is a foreign concept to me, Red. Humans are extremely weird.’

“It’s funny how when you’re saying one of our names the clicking stops. Did you do that just for us? So we’d be able to say them? I just assumed some mermaid words didn’t have clicks, but you don’t stop. You don’t stop at all actually, it doesn’t even look like you breathe.”

‘Is this the appropriate time to speak. You humans don’t pause for very long before another one starts talking. My arms are getting tired, are you going to touch them and feel better or not.’

Mumbo almost thought Grian understood, because at nearly the same time Mumbo spoke, it moved forward another step, far closer than what was comfortable, though, to be fair, this entire experience was uncomfortable. Couldn’t Grian just reach out and touch Mumbo’s hands from as far away as possible? What was the point of getting this close?

“You look. Uncomfortable.” Grian cringed back, demonstrating the word and gesturing vaguely to Mumbo before his neutral expression returned. “Uncomfortable.”

Uncomfortable! How did he know? Mumbo had gone through so much effort to look friendly and inviting, he hadn’t even bared his teeth once! Mumbo took a moment to inspect himself, a few quick embarrassed clicks escaping his throat when he saw every single one of his fins across his back flared out and on end. Even the big one at the end of his tail was all spiky and sticking out of the water, goodness. Mumbo forced them all down at once, re-presenting his arms.

Grian laughed, which Mumbo was 90% sure was a happy sound, and then relaxed a little more, waving his hands in a ‘no’ gesture.

“I’m not going to touch you if you don’t want me to, Mumbo. I’m not- Do you just think that’s a human thing? Lots of animals enjoy physical contact y’know, we actually domesticated a ton of animals for the sole purpose of petting them. I have to think you guys also enjoy it, at least with each other. You’re just flighty with humans, and I’m guessing lots of other stuff in the water. Do mermaids get eaten a lot? I can not imagine that being an issue. You’re huge.”

Grian backed up a little, but not out of fear. Just.. stepping away. Mumbo dropped his arms, somewhat relieved, but a tiny part of him was also a little annoyed. Clearly there was something magic about human touch, and Mumbo was kinda starting to want to know what the fuss was about. But Grian kept its distance now, and Mumbo didn’t think he would be able to convince it to approach him again. Shame. Though, admittedly, it was nice to not have his personal bubble be so thoroughly invaded.

“Hey,” Grian said, grabbing Mumbo’s attention back, “This isn’t- I’m still going to kill you. I’m going to.” It raised its gun half heartedly, but stopped, dropping it with a huff and a little stomp of its foot. “If you hurt him. Scar. Again. If you even touch him I’m going to- I won’t hesitate. If you kill him I’m going to- I’ll be really upset. So don’t. Do that. Clear? Are we clear?”

Mumbo stared. Grian stared back.

“Are we clear? Yes or no.”

“What,” Mumbo said, deeply confused, but Grian only huffed. Mumbo flicked his tail fins with a short hiss, ‘I don’t speak your dumb language, if you want me to understand then tell me clearly.’

“Don’t sass me.”

‘I don’t like your tone.’

“Shush!” Grian drew a finger over his mouth and Mumbo copied the gesture, flicking his fins. Grian threw up his hands like he’d been mortally offended, turning immediately on his heel. Humans. So dramatic. Internally, Mumbo noted the gesture for later as something to use when the humans were being particularly annoying.

“Whatever!” Grian declared, not looking at Mumbo as he spoke, “I’m leaving!” He marched away out of the water, stomping and splashing as he left in what Mumbo was sure was a conscious effort to be as obnoxious as possible. Amused, he began his careful backpedal into deeper water, sighing contentedly. After a minute, Grian seemed to be quite offended when he looked back to see Mumbo also leaving, yelling and calling out and being a total nuisance, but Mumbo ignored him, relieved to be out of the shallows.

Scar was all kinds of odd, but Grian felt like a different beast sometimes. Scar was predictable in his weirdness, completely baffling, but consistent. Grian felt like he reacted differently to the same exact situation every time, the one exception being when he felt he was in danger, in which he would just scream. Loudly. Shrilly. Only sometimes justified.

Maybe it would just take a little more time.

Scar was easy; easy to impress, easy to speak to, and easy to watch- Mumbo would say Scar was easy to be around, but that wasn’t quite the case with his chronic lack of environmental awareness, always swinging his arms and moving erratically. But at this point Mumbo was used to it. In a way, that erraticness was predictable too; Mumbo knew to keep a little more space between the two of them because of it. But Scar was an open book, and Grian clearly wasn’t.

He was guarded like Mumbo was, and that was a good thing. Scar’s carelessness was written all over his body, and Grian had his moments of impulsive stupidity, but Mumbo didn’t worry for his life like he did for Scar’s. Briefly, he wondered if Grian worried about Scar as well.

#the last of these I have written so far #thank you for the support :)#hermitcraft #grian #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #mumbo jumbo #hermitcraft fic #do I dare tag this as grumbo #I won’t but if you see this then YOU know that’s where it’s going #tw: guns #cw: guns #mumbomaid au #hermitfic

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