Homesickness And Experimentation

Legal Rights and Murder

This wasn't good.

Not in the point of view for the court, anyways. Killing the person who decided to sue you wasn't a good look. At all. It just made him look really guilty and...pretty much made him lose any chance he'd had of avoiding being sued.

Ah well.

To be fair, he usually marked lots of things, and he'd completely forgotten about...that. It just wasn't very memorable! The guy sued him for counts of murder (that weren't accurate, he'd killed more animals than that) and for having a scottish accent, as well as a lack of empathy towards animals.

Well, he was sorry for the creatures that had to put up with him. Sorry for the animals that everyone on the server practically kidnapped and shoved into a pen to breed until it wasn't good enough, and then slain.

He certainly wasn't the worst person on the server. After all, Jimmy had put his sheep in his already-cramped house, as well as replacing parts of his floor with dirt and using it to grow crops. He'd helped fWhip and Sausage with grabbing those villagers! A tiresome affair really, especially with all the countless teleporting he did.

Maybe, if he played his cards right, he could find a way around this like he could with getting out of sticky situations. Mark a few people, do enough scare-teleports and perhaps he can get some friends to help him out. Forcibly, if the need arose.

He wasn't going to let himself go down that easy.

---

He was furious!

The darkness had suffocated him, a stark contrast to where he'd been before. The squelching sculk underfoot clawed at his ankles in an angered grasp, squeezing and scratching. The Warden barrelled towards him, the souls trapped within its chest pulsing brightly.

He felt his body practically disintegrate. Within moments he was dead and buried. All because he'd been unlucky. Because he'd made the mistake of letting someone mark him, and he'd paid the price for it. He should've kept himself at a distance. Should've made a glass barrier between them. Anything to prevent being marked.

But who was he kidding? The guy gave him gifts before reading the book saying he'd be sued! He'd gulped down the lump of guilt in his throat as everything conspired.

He wouldn't let himself make that mistake a second time. Not again. No, when he respawned he'd be far more careful. If he wasn't, then he may be the first to die permanently. How many lives did he even have left? How many did everyone have left? How much longer did everyone have to live, lives to use up, before inevitably perishing?

He didn't know.

The darkness had suffocated him and spat him out.

Scott's Last Breath

There was no time. He was swimming, swimming, swimming, swimming for salvation, swimming to get away, swimming to live. Jimmy and Martyn were both there. He remembered Jimmy had given him time to hide. To hide before Jimmy set out to kill him and gain an extra hour. Scott was a target now. People were getting desperate.

Water began to fill his lungs. Scott was grateful he was a small part fish so that water would let him live, but now that he was approaching Yellow Life, even his fish anatomy was letting up and the water would kill him soon. Each panicked inhalation of water sent him closer to death.

"Martyn!" Scott cried out. His voice was muffled, but the look on Martyn's face spoke volumes. His friend nodded. He needed Martyn to kill him instead of Jimmy. Martyn was his ally. If Scott was going to die, then he wanted Martyn to be the one to take the extra hour. Not Jimmy.

"Scott, come to me!" Jimmy yelled through the water. Scott wouldn't. He couldn't.

His mind brought back memories filled with his husband in the flower fields, the flower crowns they wore and the small rings of twine as their wedding rings. He remembered standing in front of a grave with a poppy dropped at its base. He remembered dying and seeing his flower husband again.

Scott felt the searing pain of two blades piercing his body. Blood flowed out and into the water, staining it red in a gruesome pool of blood and pain.

He wanted it to end. He wished he could just die and avoid being constantly hunted down as the one on the server with the most lives.

Scott saw the wounds. He saw the wide gaping injuries littering his sides, chest, arms and legs. Locking eyes with Martyn, a final unspoken message was sent.

He was about to die. He was so low on health. Scott prayed in his mind that Martyn would deliver the blow. He hoped that, when he respawned, he'd be held by his fellow member of the Mean Gills, his ally, the only person he could really trust.

Scott's vision went black.

He felt his heart stop.

His body went cold.

The final damning message in the world, horrific words spelled out in the minds of every single player.

Smajor was slain by InTheLittleWood

At least his ally would get to live a little longer.

Lauren had new friends.

It was nice, to be honest. Finally, she had two friends who cared for her and actually helped her! And she had tons of fun, too! Scott gave her a staff and three spells, and Eloise taught her what friendship actually meant and was her first real friend.

That is, if she excluded Joey from the list.

Because did Joey count as a friend? Lauren didn't think so...but he did say friends betrayed each other and stole from each other. Then Eloise said that was wrong. And so did Scott. So that made Joey her not-friend. Enemy? That didn't feel right. Joey hadn't actively gone around hurting her or belittling her or anything. Then again, didn't he become her friend just because she seemed to be strong? Lauren had to think.

As she stood in her tower, she sat on the spiral staircase, somewhere in the middle, and tapped her fingers against her knees. Her mind began to wander off topic for a second, but she was quick to correct its course.

Joey wasn't a friend.

He was a not-friend. That felt better than calling him an enemy, and easier than saying he was a stranger. Because he was, in a way. How much did Lauren really know about him? He never really told her about himself.

No matter what, as Lauren stood up from the stairs, and slowly walked up to the top of her tower, and approached the railing stopping people from falling off, she leant against it and removed her hat, she knew Joey wasn't a friend. Scott and Eloise were.

It hurt to think that. Joey and her had fun. Messed about, made memories in that first dungeon. Calling him a not-friend didn't make sense. Friend, not-friend, stranger, enemy. Four options. But not a single one of them felt right.

Lauren watched the sun dip below the horizon line. Its gold light crept downwards, seeping out and revealing the overbearing blackness of night and the twinkling stars.

Maybe Joey didn't matter right now.

Lauren had new friends. And she was happy with that.

The End Has Come

It's all over now.

Scott finally got his happy ending. Shirking his crown, he happily went off with Milo. It worked. The spell worked. Now Scott was able to live out his life with his love. Scott was Milo's moonlight, his little shadow. Losing his magic was a price he was willing to pay if it meant he could spend the rest of his life with Milo. Scott was overjoyed.

Lauren was happy. She made friends! After years of being in the desert, alone, she had people that made her laugh. People that she cared about, and cared about her in return. Lauren liked having friends. It was much better than being alone, that's for sure. But her mind was doubtful. She ran instead of fighting that demon. Would the others forgive her? Lauren wouldn't know.

Pris was going to start her own family in the ocean. Pride welled in her chest as she swam amidst the waves. She could visit her sister. She could live her life. There was no way anyone could ever say she wasn't overjoyed. The water passed over her skin and she relished in the feeling. Pris was happy.

Shelbie was home again. It was awkward, especially after she set off the rain again, but she couldn't complain. Not when she was welcomed with open arms and into a warm hug. She melted into the touch with a smile on her face. Shelbie was grateful.

Eloise had found that crown. Some loser had just left it on the ground! And whilst she didn't know how someone could just leave it there, she didn't question it. Eloise readily picked it up and placed it on her head. She paid no mind to the runes on the ground, nor the circles of chalk. Eloise didn't see the shimmering dark-green glow pass over the crown.

Joey had followed Tiff through that portal. There was nowhere else that she could've gone. He scrunched his eyes shut and tried to ignore the unsettling crawl of goosebumps on his skin as the portal transported him. He didn't need to return to the mages that tossed him away when his magic was revealed. He didn't need to prove himself to them anymore. Joey just had to find his friend and make sure she was okay.

Tiff couldn't help but grin. This would be a new adventure. A new world. Those voices called to her, beckoning her to come with them, more hypnotic than a siren's song. Tiff wanted to take the plunge. Just like she had done with the competition. Only this time, there was no major incentive to do it. No Mother Nature calling her forth to help protect the plants. Tiff had chosen this.

Cleo marveled at her new body. No more rotted flesh. No more stitches holding her limbs together. No more time spent having to struggle with an undead body she was condemned to be trapped within. Cleo finally had a normal body again. A normal body with a beating heart. With no stitches. With no risk of falling apart if not for her magic keeping her together. Cleo was content.

Bertha had to follow Joey and Tiff. Without them, the two would likely get themselves in trouble within mere minutes. So, albeit somewhat reluctantly, Bertha bade their beloved Mertha goodbye as they ran towards the portal and stepped in. They watched as Mertha's image dissipated slowly. Everything soon was covered in green, green, green. Green everywhere. Just green. Bertha had to help them.

Happy endings never last. Loose strings must always be tied when all is said and done.

The story is not over just yet.

Gold Is Appealing

The crown weighs heavy upon its wearer's brow. Each passing day makes the crown grow heavier, and the wearer grows wearier with each day. Some say that a curse had been placed upon this crown during the first brawl to take place over its ownership. That, in the bloodshed of the rulers, the crown had been cursed to bring death and misfortune in its wake, and that any who wear it face cruel and startling punishments. For some, this means betrayal from one whom they'd loved, being poisoned in their own domain. For others, the crown brought magical powers beyond their own control, causing a harsh and gruelling winter to befall their lands.

It is needless to say that the crown had been swamped with misery and famine since the first few days of its creation. And that it had been buried long ago for good measure.

Pix had failed to read that in his books. But to be fair, there hadn't been many accounts detailing this crown, and those that did contain information were...vague, at best. So he'd seen no issue with donning the crown and wearing it with pride. He'd made his rule, as the books had mentioned within his newfound capabilities, and for the short time of having it, Pix had almost enjoyed it. Not the power itself, no. In other circumstances Pix wouldn't dare do such a thing. But in the name of history, he simply had to, if only to keeep the crown's rich tradition alive.

Perhaps it had been this that caused his untimely demise.

During that tea party at Glimmergrove, Pix hadn't initially thought much when he started withering. He'd assumed that Katherine had found him. After all, he had seen that Katherine did kill those that she managed to find. All in good sport, of course. The respawn ability every ruler shared was used not in life-or-death situations, but mostly as a measure of strength; a way to test how long one may survive against a terrible foe, or when they're on the brink of death from poisoning.

But when he did die, he came back...different. A ghost. A spectral figure that startled the other rulers upon seeing him. Pix had, quite literally, become as dead as history. He'd merged with it. Was that meant to be his fate all along? Condemned to live as a ghost after a light-hearted discovery and some innocent tradition-upkeeping? That didn't seem fair to him.

Scott had the crown now. At first he hadn't meant to acquire it. He'd simply stood nearby and accidentally retrieved the fallen things of the late Pix. And that meant he had to put out his own decree for the other rulers to follow. There wasn't anything he really wanted. Scott was a collector at heart; an adventurer. He'd spent a large part of his life travelling, permanently borrowing artefacts and living freely. It hadn't really been his intention to become King of Chromia, but he took it in his stride. In fact, he had been planning to continue his streak of permanently borrowing other people's possessions. So for now, he administered a simple task: build a statue, building or other form of structure for Chromia. He'd laid out the borders, and left it at that.

But upon his return home, he'd encountered a most peculiar note left for him. It requested that he create a Brown Mooshroom and take it to a place called the Hollow. Scott knew something bad or risky when he saw it. And this note definitely had sinister connotations. Would this lead to his death the same way Pix had perished? There was no real way to tell for sure.

The crown was laced in malice. None would know this. Perhaps a demon from the days of the past had cursed it. A demon that had cursed it as a last resort in case he was sentenced to death.

Who knows? All we know for sure was one thing.

That gold, the very gold within the crown, was appealing to all rulers.

The Spread

It was spreading. His colony was growing every day. Bit by bit, it was expanding out of the corners he had planted them in and moving out into the daylight.

A smile curled at his lips.

He could feel them all even from the comfort of his home. Tiny tendrons snaking forwards. Miniscule mushrooms bursting out of the ground.

Everything was going according to plan.

---

Gem was the first, that he knew of, to notice.

Mushrooms were just...growing! Behind the house she'd made in her first life!

Really, they shouldn't be growing there. It wasn't the right habitat and there were no other patches of them elsewhere nearby.

Someone must have put them there. Surely.

Although, there was a huge amount of them. How had she not seen them before? It wasn't that well hidden. Not when they peeked out into her line of sight rather prominently.

Perhaps she should get rid of them. Or at least build something to keep them contained.

She didn't want them getting any closer.

---

The others had large patches, too.

Jimmy's patch of mushrooms were a stark contrast to the pinks and whites of his area. The dull grey of the mycellium was obvious against the emerald grass surrounding it, and the mushrooms were rather out of place amongst the flowers.

fWhip had a decent amount as well, perhaps the biggest of all of them. He didn't seem to notice them yet. Good. His area was large enough that they'd probably stay hidden for a while longer.

And Sausage? Obviously there were a couple mushrooms there as well! Hopefully, like fWhip, he wouldn't notice them just yet. The mushrooms there had grown considerably. It'd be a shame if he found them and took them down.

---

Of course if any of them did dare hurt them, Scott would retaliate.

Gaia be damned. She'd appreciate it, really. He was helping!

He sat in his home, taking a bite out of a cabbage roll that he didn't need to eat anymore. The taste was bland, nothing like how it had been in his last life as a transporter. Most food had lost its appeal.

The mushrooms outside his house were slowly beginning to creep down towards the rest of his area.

Perfect.

All Reigns Come To An End

It's over now.

Joey disappeared into the sunset. The sea churning below, wind in his hair. The rhythmic action of rowing the boat calmed him. No matter what, the sea would always call to him like the sirens that lived in its majestic waters. He was glad to not be alone. With others by his side, traversing the sea was even better.

Joel had ascended. He'd always known Jimmy was a toy; that reassurance wasn't exactly needed, but was satisfying. And even if Hermes...didn't seem to like him, at least his son was grown up now. And everyone left him. So he made his goodbyes and joined the other Lore Gods.

Scott and Owen were adventuring together. Scott delighted in the thrill of the risk; the dangers that came with raiding tombs and collecting things. Even if that skull came to mind, Owen was always there to comfort him. He was rarely afforded privacy with Owen, but he didn't mind. They both did things for Chromia, even though Scott definitely did more. Adventure called to them both, and they were kindred spirits bonded together with it.

Shelby eventually chose her track of magic. Lightning coursed through her veins, and the storms bent to her will. She grinned as the rain poured outside her home. That date with Katherine had been wonderful. Perhaps she could go on one with her later. But that letter in her letterbox wouldn't read itself.

Katherine's curse was gone now. Even though her parents weren't too keen on her monster-hunting, the monsters would always exist. Who else would get rid of them? She delighted in protecting her kingdom. And visiting Shelby didn't sound too bad. She did promise a date after all.

FWhip smiled as the racket of the tavern filled his ears. Downing another goblet of mead, he wiped his mouth with his hand and joined the drunkards in their joyful melody. Ecstasy rode through his veins and he did nothing to stop it. Surrounded by friends, he eased into his own comfort.

Pix was satisfied. He'd done everything he'd wanted. Pride flowed through him as he looked upon everything he had accomplished and he couldn't resist the relieved grin that curled at his lips.

Jimmy protected Tumble Town as best he could. The Old Sheriff was brilliant to be around, if not a little odd from time to time. He was content. Sure, there'd be bandits one way or another. The law would always need upholding. But for now? Rest sounded good. And being with the Old Sheriff? Seemed like a nice ending to him.

Oli's Olipeligo was beautiful. His own refuge. His home. Old memories of old faces still popped in from time to time, but he didn't need them. Memories of the Orb, of vampires and angels, of thornlings and dragons, had all but gone now. Replaced by collectors and princesses, by sheriffs and gods and goblins.

Everyone's reign was over. Would new ones begin, or were the history books finally complete?

For now, their reigns had come to an end.

It was over now.

Hours To Give

The words took a moment to set in.

Martyn was 25 minutes away from becoming a Red. He was about to become bloodthirsty. Murderous. Hungry for death, no matter who it was that perished. Martyn would crave whatever blood he could get on his hands.

Scott felt a shiver run up his spine. A jolt of fear. His body shook. His fellow Mean Gill, his ally, his best friend, his lover-

What?

No, they weren't like that. Scott and Martyn weren't like that.

He looked up at Martyn, his friend swinging his pickaxe down on stone. Sweat beading down his skin. Scott was not staring. But he couldn't help it. Martyn would become a Red soon.

"Martyn," Scott said his friend's name with as much courage as he was able to muster. "Look at me." Martyn stopped, dropping his pickaxe. The stone he'd just mined lay on the floor. Martyn approached him slowly. Scott could already see the slightest of red in his friend's eyes. The beginning of bloodlust was already there.

"What is it?" Martyn was very close now. The two were practically pressed up against each other. Martyn's hands were on both of Scott's shoulders.

"I-I-" Scott swallowed nervously.

There was something he wanted to say. So many things. So many confessions that it would probably take the rest of his time to admit to them all.

"Take your time," Martyn's voice was smooth and comforting, in an almost loving gentleness. A kind of gentleness Scott had only felt last around Jimmy in Third Life, or his platonic not-soulmate Cleo in Double Life. "We have plenty of it."

"That's the thing," Scott answered quickly. His body shuddered involuntarily. The words were on the tip of his tongue. It wasn't like there were many to speak. Quite the contrary. If anything those words were too few to properly express what he wanted to say. But those were the words he had to say. "Martyn, I want you to trust me here. Okay? Trust me. And I need you to listen. Don't immediately shoot it down."

"Okay..."

"Kill me."

"What." Martyn's eyes were blown wide. His lips were parted in an 'o' and his body twitched. Another sign of being Red; you couldn't stand still withoout wanting to kill.

"I want you. To kill me."

"N-no, I-I get that. But why?"

"Because! You're almost Red, Martyn! And after that, then what? Time will tick. And next time you won't come back. Next time you'll be dead. I can't live without you. I need you here. You cannot die. And if that means I lose half an hour then that's fine." Scott had already reached into his inventory to grab a sword. It wasn't his go-to sword for this, but it would do. Tears bubbled in his eyes. His scales itched and the coral on his body rubbed against his skin harshly.

"Scott, I-" Martyn took a deep breath. "I don't want to kill you. Not again. We already had to do this when you were on green. I can't kill you a second time."

"Martyn, please. Just do it!" Scott felt tears rolling down his cheeks as he thrust the sword into Martyn's hands. He threw his arms wide and waited. He could tell his friend was tempted. The premature desire to kill was there. Scott was just hoping Martyn would listen to it and take the extra time. Martyn needed it more.

Martyn stared down at the sword. Scott tried to smile through his tears as best he could. Martyn's lip trembled and tears pricked his eyes, too. Now they were both crying, but for different reasons.

Red Winter was back. Martyn could only think of him killing Ren. His king. And him killing Scott during the Hunt. Neither of his memories were very highly treasured for being wonderful. Those were probably the worst experiences of his life. Because Boogeyman kills were one thing. So were Red kills. Or even Yellow kills.

Killing one you cared for, per their request, was something very different.

"I can't do it," Martyn admitted. "Scott, I can't do it!" He dropped the sword, ignoring the clatter it made as it hit the floor. Martyn fought against the bubbling bloodthirst. He wasn't Red yet. He could restrain himself.

"Just do it. Take a half-hour."

"No. I won't." And Martyn wrapped his arms around Scott. Scott buried his face in the crook of Martyn's neck, and Martyn rested his chin on Scott's shoulder. Tears stained their clothes.

And so did blood.

Scott looked down.

The sword had been plunged into his chest.

Martyn's sword.

"Thank you." Scott smiled, and pressed a kiss against Martyn's neck.

His heart stopped beating.

Martyn's body shuddered, and he fell to his knees, crying harder than before.

He had to stop getting into these situations.

Murder Mystery AU?

Since Pix withered away and lost the crown, I had this AU forming in my head. I wanted to get it out here, and I'm working on a fanfic of this AU for myself. I might post some chapters, but I might just leave it as this.

Suspects: Scott, Katherine, Sausage, Shelbie, Joel

Detectives: Jimmy, fWhip

Victim(s): Pix, maybe Joey and Lizzy

Side characters: Oli, Gem, False

Pix would get murdered either at his museum, or at the tea party Katherine held. Jimmy would arrive a couple hours later, and the investigation would begin. Scott would be interviewed first seeing as he just acquired the crown Pix had before. Katherine hosted the event, so she'd be second on the list. Sausage handed out drinks, so if the cause was linked to poison then Sausage would also be interviewed. Shelbie would've been seen acting off after the death, which would make her a mild suspect. And Joel would be interviewed by fWhip because Joel would mock Jimmy to death before spilling any important info.

Joey or Lizzy could die next, Lizzy as a means of hurting Joel, and Joey as a means of directing the murderer to Shelbie or Katherine.

Oli would try to calm the group down, and would offer some help to Jimmy and fWhip, but ultimately wouldn't help much. However, he would still be useful as he'd be the one to potentially intervene during a heated argument between the cast.

False would provide some insight into Pix just...as a character, and try to provide motives for the others. She'd mostly try and stay out of the whole thing, but would pitch in when called upon.

Gem would give a detailed account of the night and be a useful witness, because I think she'd be observant enough to notice some small details prior to Pix dying.

That's it! It's not a ton of stuff, but I still think it's pretty fun.

Bye, have a great day/night!

Spores of Sculk

He hadn't expected to see him like that at first.

A human first. He remembered that. They'd met when he spooked Sparrow whilst he was trying to take pictures of him from afar. Then they had gone into his house to interview him.

Then a copper golem. He was smaller, certainly, and seeing the person he'd known for so long change scared him. What if Sparrow changed? What if he didn't like him much anymore? People changed when they died, he knew that much.

But he didn't. Not really. He was mostly the same person.

And now, Sparrow was...whatever he is now. Some sort of sculk creature.

Scott rubbed his temples, trying to ease the aching.

The spores floating around him dispersed a little and he let out an annoyed growl, stamping the ground and digging his foot into the dirt.

Lifting his shoe back up, he realised he'd broken the mycellium he'd surrounded the sculk in.

He sighed.

Sparrow mentioned opening doors when he was in his head. Had he actually...? No, he couldn't have. Surely. That was a huge invasion of privacy. He wouldn't do that.

Recalling the sensation sent shivers down his spine.

Best to ignore it.