Jimmy Solidarity - Blog Posts
Ballad of Secrets
The Canary fell, but was not the first
An age of deceit, a broken curse
Slain at the hand of his ally another time
The light of The Stars has dimmed, gone past its prime
The Moon has set, a new era come
As The Sun shall rise, all pain undone
And as Mars died in a final war
Putting an end to the blood and gore
The Slayer's sword fell from her hand
And she joined the chorus, the rest of her band
And as Earth stood at the Secret Keeper
Ready to meet the grim reaper
He was not yet done
He never would be
But Earth was among them now
Now, and for all eternity
The Florist and The Curse
"Do you really want me to hit you again?" Jimmy asked, standing on the terracotta mound, as the grass bled into the mesa. His arm was on his hip, chin jutting out proudly, with his other hand resting at his his side holding the hilt of his sword.
"I mean, you only did, like, a heart and a half of damage," Scott said with a shrug. He wasn't scared of Jimmy, no matter what the Red Life tried. He knew Jimmy for what he had been and who he is now; a kind, loyal and energetic man with room in his heart for everyone yet no one at all. "After all that-"
"Do you really want me to hit you again?" Jimmy repeated, more sternly this time. A muscle in his jaw ticked.
"-effort." Scott finished.
"You really want me to try again?" His voice grew deeper, slightly confused but remained firm and threatening.
"I mean, is your task to just hurt me? I'm so confused." Scott blurted out. "Also by shouting a weird catchphrase of 'the florist is gonna get me."'
"Yeah?" Grinning, Jimmy edged a little closer. There was a hazardous tone to his voice that set Scott's nerves on edge. He couldn't help it.
"You have thirty seconds."
The memory of the previous game left a bitter taste in his mouth. Obviously Martyn deserved the win. That was never in doubt. But being stabbed in the chest, then burned alive by his closest ally was not on Scott's bucket-list.
Nor was having Jimmy betray him like that. But, ah well.
He moved on.
Scott hadn't, cursed with too many memories and burdened with pain, blood and remembrance.
"Okay." Scott said. He gently tapped his heels against the horse's sides, urging it a little back. "I- is that your name, The Florist?"
"N- no? Dunno what you're talking about." Jimmy tilted his head like a puppy, his hair falling over his eyes. The usual honey brown was rimmed with bloody red.
"Oh, 'kay, okay." His horse moved further back, at his own insistence.
"Watch your back, Scott, alright? Watch your back." Jimmy warned.
Scott didn't stick around much longer after that.
---
He watched Lizzie fail to kill him. He knew it from the moment she tried to have him step up to the ledge; it was obvious from how her voice was pitched, the tone, the way her hands seemed to twitch urgently at her sides.
Scott hadn't thought she would fall. Maybe trip a little, get hit by an Enderman.
But not fall.
He heard the crackling of the lightning bolt and looked away as it struck at the empty Void, the space where Lizzie had fallen. In her memory and honour, Scott listened to the rolling boom of the thunder that followed.
Jimmy's curse was gone.
The Canary Curse was broken.
He felt something bubble in his throat, a hoarse laugh of joy and pain mixed together in a horridly lovely cocktail. He thought of how Jimmy would react to it. He thought of the shocked widening of his eyes and how his mouth would fall a little. He imagined the shocked huff of breath, pursued by hysteric giggles as he ran forth and proudly declared the curse gone.
Scott was happy for him, truly.
...He still had questions about the whole 'florist' thing, but at least Jimmy had lost his curse.
It was an odd feeling, when it happened. Scott looked fondly upon the last game because of the tether that had snapped when he'd died; the knowledge that the curse was broken, that he'd no longer have to live until all his allies and friends were gone, that the weight had finally been lifted, had relieved him.
He had laughed and smiled and actually felt happy for the first time in years.
Two curses down. Now to break the rest of them.
Curse of Victory
Scott sat in his house, perched on his bed, with a book in his lap and a pencil in his hands. He turned to a blank page, then gazed pensively out his window and at the view.
He tapped his pencil against the corner of his lip.
In the past, he'd written about his allies and the chaos of the server. He'd documented the advancements made to the base. He recorded silly, useless details that had potential to become useful in the future.
Mostly though, he tried articulating his memories.
Other players - specifically the ones who hadn't been cursed blessed with victory - had poor recollection of past games. The memories were still there, they would still reappear from time to time, but mostly they lurked in the dark recesses of their minds until called upon. Those memories were old. They had no purpose to them other than to have them keep playing; the reward for victory, after all, was to remember.
Grian remembered everything. Scott knew that he remembered throwing himself off a cliff, cheating on Scar, his slow yet steady loss of his fellow Bad Boys until he had been left alone.
Pearl remembered everything, too. She knew about the trio he, her and Cleo had been in the past; how she had been abandoned by her soulmate yet still came out on top, and Scott took his life so she wouldn't have to suffer in that world longer; how she had at first been in a duo in the Nosy Neighbours, which soon became a trio.
Martyn remembered. He had been the Red King's Hand, his loyal soldier and servant who'd had the burden honour of taking his king's life. He, too, was left by his soulmate and had spent weeks trying to undo his wrongs and get back in her good books. He had been Scott's only ally in the last life game, loyal and devoted, and had taken the mantle of victor.
Scott knew what they remembered, because they had told him. In the cold, empty Void, awaiting the next game as they sat alone with no company but each other, they didn't have much else to do except share what they remembered.
He remembered flower fields with Jimmy, a poppy tucked behind his ear and a wedding ring of twine around his finger. He remembered his allyship with Pearl and Cleo, which split into a duo in the life game afterwards. He remembered the fish tail that had swished behind him and still half-expected it to be there at night.
Most of all, they all remembered the pain.
Scott had tried articulating his thoughts, writing them on paper to go over later. It didn't work, predictably. But the sentiment had been there.
Martyn and Jimmy were Red Lives now.
It was an odd thought. Jimmy had never had the best luck in the games, always being the first one to be eliminated from the game. He had been a terrible ally - always so accident-prone and clumsy - but he'd also been joyful and kind. He had been as vibrant as the colour of his canary wings, and burned as bright as the sun.
It seemed sensible that Jimmy would go down so quickly.
Martyn, on the other hand...
Martyn was vicious. He was ruthless and cunning and quick. In the heat of battle, his sword always struck true. He was a fighter, from birth to death. He did not die easily.
But, like all of them, he was mortal. And he was human. He was subject to such things as mortality.
Scott scribbled this down as best he could. His handwriting, normally pristine and fancy, was erratic and scruffy. The others would probably think someone else wrote this, but the winners would know.
They always did.
He set down his pencil and lay down, staring up at the ceiling.
His bed felt cold.
He sat up again and rose to his feet. He shuffled to his door, opened it, stepped outside into the cool night air and began to walk. Where, he couldn't say. His feet were carrying him in whichever direction they saw fit.
Scott left behind the plateau on the mountain and approached the open field at Spawn.
He spotted Martyn standing there awkwardly, yawning and dragging his feet along the ground.
"Martyn? What are you doing up this late?" he asked.
"I could ask you the same thing," Martyn replied. His eyes glimmered red, sparkling rubies or flowing blood. Either way, they were beautiful. "Besides, a little Green Life out here, with no protection, and with a Red Life no less."
"You wouldn't try anything."
"Wouldn't I?"
"No." He spoke with conviction. He slowly drew nearer to the Red Life and paused a few centimetres from him. Scott cupped Martyn's cheek, and the Red Life leaned into the touch ever so slightly. There was hesitation in his eyes.
Martyn sighed, taking a step back. "I want this to end."
"You want to go back to the Void that much?"
"No? Yes? I don't know! It's... it's frustrating." He folded his arms and stared at the floor. "I just want things to be clear again. I want to talk to you without feeling the urge to rip your arms off. Hell, I want to talk to people in general!"
Scott grabbed Martyn gently by the arm. Without a word, they both travelled up to Pearl's base. He knocked on the door and was met with the image of Pearl - bushy hair, bags under her eyes - grumbling to herself.
"What?"
Scott, with Martyn in tow, pushed past and into the room. "Wait here," he commanded. "I'll be back soon."
He quickly ran up to the plateau, silently sneaking into his house and taking the bed. He legged it all the way back, using the diving board for assistance. He placed it down up against a free spot on the wall.
Pulling the covers back, he hopped in and patted the space next to him. Martyn nervously crawled in.
Pearl watched them awkwardly. Then she sent out a message via her comm.
"We're having a winners' sleepover." she stated.
Scott nodded.
Grian appeared a few minutes later, with two other beds. He placed them near to Scott's and the other two victors got under the covers.
"To victory, and shitty memories." Scott said, and the others repeated it.
Scott and Martyn tangled in each other's limbs with a small smile on their faces. It felt good, to be like this again. He'd missed it.
As slumber overcame him, Scott had one final thought.
He was home.
Burning Flowers
Scott was fed up. He glared at Jimmy, currently squatting on an open trapdoor with his arms stubbornly folded across his chest and a determined look in his eyes. It was a familiar look for Scott, one he'd have seen in the first set of death games when him and Jimmy had been friends - even closer than that - rather than enemies or allies.
But that was in a different time, when Scott was content living with Jimmy.
Now he wanted him out. And quickly.
He tightly gripped his flint and steel, maintaining eye contact with Jimmy's warm brown eyes.
"You've got ten seconds to get out before I set you on fire." His voice was calm, like the sea before the storm. His eyes burned with controlled anger, a wildfire that he would only push inside until he lost all inhibition as a Red.
Jimmy adamantly stood his ground.
Scott began to count down slowly, stepping closer like a predator stalking their prey. With each number ticking down his voice grew lower and lower.
"Three." Sparks flew from the flint and steel. "Two." Fear flickered in Jimmy's eyes as the realisation set in that Scott was serious. "One."
Scott lit the ground around Jimmy on fire, watching the flames climb higher with ravenous hunger. Jimmy yelped and began to jump around. Following, Scott lit and put out fires with incredible speed. When the flames latched onto Jimmy's skin, searing pink flesh, a smile stretched across his face.
Jimmy panted heavily, landing on a higher trapdoor. His arm was singed, the jacket and shirt sleeves practically ribbons.
"I'm not leaving." Jimmy said, his tone convicted.
That only left Scott with more of a challenge. His grin widened with the idea of a new game, a chance to see how long it'd take, how many injuries Jimmy would sustain, before he finally decided to back off.
Scott balled his fists and drew closer. Jimmy tried to jump, but couldn't get past Scott. He fell into a corner, his palms flat against the walls.
He reared his fist back and slammed it into the wall next to Jimmy's head. The blond flinched, eyes wide and panicked, yet still containing that flame of determination.
"Five seconds. Or I'll be punching you instead of the wall." Scott pulled his fist back. He looked at the dent he made in the wall with pride.
Jimmy, in typical Jimmy fashion, did not back down.
"Five." He balled his fist. "Four." Into the wall. "Three." Pulled back. "Two." Grabbing a fistful of Jimmy's shirt, yanking him closer. "One."
Scott slammed his fist into Jimmy's nose.
Thick red blood ran down his face, yet he made no reaction. Scott, frowning, prepared to hit him a second time.
Jimmy sprung into action and darted past him. A growl escaped Scott's lips and he trailed after him, blood staining his hand.
Upon him moving towards the entrance, Jimmy flung himself forward once more and back onto the high trapdoor. He wiped the blood running down his face but didn't clear it away, only leaving a smear behind.
"I. Am not. Leaving." Jimmy enunciated each word with a new wave of fury.
They both breathed heavily, chests rising and falling in unison.
Scott, for a moment, wondered why exactly he was doing this. Greens weren't meant to be particularly violent, yet there was no denying that there was a bloodlust that burned inside him, the kind that only a Red could achieve.
His vision went red.
A familiar weight fell into his hands. An axe, he realised. Scott glared at Jimmy.
This time he gave no warning. He lunged immediately, lifting the axe up and bringing it down in a swift arc on Jimmy's chest. The scream that followed was euphoric to Scott.
Finally, Jimmy fled. He sprinted past Scott, coughing and wheezing and hacking, barrelling out the door and into the open.
The axe dropped onto the floor. Scott stared at it, the blood on the blade and his hands. On his clothes. Even his shoes. Scott left his house with the desire to see himself guiding him towards Gem's diving board and flinging himself off of it.
He landed in the water and swam to the land, climbing onto it. Scott peered at his reflection.
Scott was covered in blood, although some of it had been washed off in the fall. His hair clung to his forehead, his eyes flickered red, then settled back on green. Blood was smudged on his cheek - how had it gotten there? It was all over his shirt, covering the green on it, and splattered on his trousers. The edges of his shoes were stained with a mix of blood and dirt.
He didn't look like a Green. He looked like a Red.
Scott fell to his knees, a laugh bubbling in his throat. He was cackling, bent over and clutching the ground. Dirt crept under his fingernails and each laugh out of his throat was like coughing blood.
He didn't recognise himself. Not really. He wasn't a Green. He was the spitting image of a Red. Of someone who'd lost every ounce of self-restraint. Someone wild.
He looked like Pearl, who went Red early in Double Life, even though she was still on her first life.
He looked like Martyn at the end of the previous life game, dirty with blood and grime and sweat, but cackling and joyful with madness.
Scott looked like a Winner.
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.
New Life Superhero/Villain AU!
My ideas for (some) of the creators in New Life as heroes or villains.
Heroes:
Jimmy - 'Cold Guy'
Gem - 'Inferno'
Sausage - 'Phoenix'
Owen/Sparrow - 'Copper'
Jimmy can manipulate ice to obtain super speed as well as create icy barriers to shield himself and others. Some joke that his abilities and Martyn''s are so similar that they could be siblings, but Jimmy refuses to divulge whether or not he was born with his powers.
Gem can control and manipulate fire. She accidentally burned fWhip with it when they were children and has never forgiven herself for it since. She believes he is dead.
Sausage can also manipulate fire, but unlike Gem, he can use it to fly as well as being able to heal people in a close radius to him. As a result, he chooses to fight long-range to avoid accidentally healing the villains he's fighting.
Sparrow is more durable and can fight longer than the others, as well as needing less rest and food. He tends to go on nightly patrols because of this. He stays away from Scott as they were friends as children.
Villains:
Scott - 'Mycellium'
Martyn - 'Blizzard'
Pearl - 'Golem'
fWhip - 'Trickster'
Scott has the power to summon and control fungi, and can grow them on people and animals to control them. In the past he used his ability on Jimmy, and Jimmy now has a scar on his chest from it.
Martyn can control ice to make himself impervious to attacks. He, like Jimmy, refuses to reveal how he got his powers, but for very different reasons. Martyn has scars all over his body and only Scott knows the reason for them.
Pearl has the same abilities as Sparrow and uses them so that she can carry out the harder work with less risk (e.g: bigger heists with higher risk of injury, taking on cops/vigilantes whilst the others continue what they're doing). She refuses to fight Sausage, but can't recall or explain why.
fWhip can shrink himself and uses this ability for breaking and entering, as well as stealing. Gem believes he died, but in truth he just shrank himself and ran away. He hasn't told her the truth, but holds nothing against her.
So what do you think? Who else could be a hero/villain? Any interesting backstory ideas?
Rebirth
Some people thought that being given a new origin, a new chance at life, was painful. Essentially, their DNA was being rewritten at an impossible speed to comprehend. Blood would boil ferociously like torrential waves in a storm, skin would bubble and burst, bones would crack and pop. Organs would shift proportions and positions to accommodate new things; additional or less organs than before, larger internal power sources.
Others thought it was painless. A pain that would never be felt. Their bodies would go numb to anything except for a faint tingling that ran through them like miniature jolts of electricity.
It was both, and neither.
---
Jimmy knew it well. He knew the cold clutches of the Void, an endless expanse that none could run from. He knew the wandering eyes that spectated everything he did. Knew the ears that pried in on every conversation, every tiny and insignificant sound. Knew the voices that whispered, buzzing with a variety of emotions, mostly excitement.
For once, he could feel the phantom burden of heavy wings on his back. Bright yellow, practically glowing, and fluffy.
Canary wings.
Hands glided across his skin with light and feathery caresses.
The voices all said the same thing: Mine. Mine. You belong to us. You are ours. Our little canary. Your life is ours.
A shiver ran down Jimmy's spine.
Because he was theirs, wasn't he? They moulded him. He was made to be whatever they wanted. They were the gods and he was the human they sculpted out of clay.
So even when their touches hurt, even when they got possessive, he did nothing.
What was a mortal to a god?
---
Sparrow couldn't remember the last fragments of his life as a human. Perhaps that was for the better.
It must have been painful. Right? It didn't seem like a painless process. Even though he couldn't feel much anymore, he could still feel a phantom ache in his chest where is lungs once were. His body was smaller. Colder, due to the copper metal of his skin. Not human at all.
A machine. Just like the ones he used to make.
It was ironic, really. The creator became the created.
The dullness in his body would never leave him. Like a parasite that latched onto him and refused to relinquish its grip. A constant reminder of what he did in order to become one of them.
Because that was all he wanted, wasn't it?
To be one of them.
---
Scott couldn't really comprehend it.
The Void encapsulated him. Accommodated him. It let him teleport to his heart's content, even if everything was the same ever-stretching expanse of darkness.
Sometimes he wished he could still feel the nausea from teleporting. To feel something, anything, other than emptiness.
But that wasn't an option.
He could feel his body being changed. Pointed ears, antlers growing from his skull, gills and fins, a gold eye that saw magic, scars on his arms from an injury he couldn't remember, a long rat's tail, sharpened canines. Blurred flickering memories. Hundreds of weird mutations, an amalgamation of parts.
The strings of each world were wrapped around him in a suffocating embrace.
And then he was reborn.
Darkest Before The Dawn
Teleporting into walls didn't really phase him much.
The crippling fear was dead and buried along with the many other hatchets lying six feet under. He no longer was sent into a frenzy when he made a mistake. The walls welcomed him with a suffocating embrace. They gripped him tight and squeezed the air out of his lungs with little to no remorse.
It didn't mean it didn't shock him, though.
Accidentally teleporting into a wall wasn't pleasant. It slammed into him like a bucket of icy water he hadn't been prepared for. But it didn't frighten him. More like a minor inconvenience.
Scott's body tingled as he teleported out from the mound of dirt and grass he'd unintentionally managed to teleport into. He was lucky he wasn't claustrophobic. Being trapped inside the dirt and grass wasn't nice. It was as if he'd been buried alive and couldn't escape. Like no matter how much dirt he clawed his way through, there was always more to get through. He'd never be able to get out. It was just an endless purgatory he could never flee from. The weight of the dirt would crush him.
His knees buckled and he collapsed.
Shaking, Scott tried to stand. His legs seemed uncooperative and refused to hold his weight. Many times he fell to the ground. Many strings of curses passed over his lips and swirled on the breeze.
Eventually he succeeded in standing.
Slowly, he approached his house. The path of grass and dirt underneath his feet served as a reminder. Dirt clung to his clothes. The ground's grubby fingers grabbed at his feet repeatedly. Scott did his best to ignore it. He kept walking, drawing nearer and nearer to the door.
He made it inside.
---
Jimmy still felt himself falling.
It was just meant to have been some friendly revenge. Nothing more.
It wasn't meant to end in him plummeting to his death.
He should have been more careful. He should have watched where he was stepping. He should have been able to make it out unscathed rather than dying.
He was a world class idiot.
Panic had overtaken him. His senses screamed at him to do something over then just freeze. To run. To try and find something in the walls to hold onto. To move in any way possible that meant he might be able to live.
At least he didn't have to feel much more than his body falling.
He died soon after he touched the ground.
But he hadn't been respawned yet. For now, he was floating in some kind of limbo that he couldn't escape from. Just existing. No point or purpose other than to exist. That was all he could do for now. Exist and wait for himself to be reborn as something new.
Maybe the world would be cruel and give him wings or immunity to fall damage.
Or maybe it would make him even more vulnerable to it.
Fate was fickle, but fate was also cruel.
---
Martyn would kill for his colin-y.
The snowy and semi-friendly creepers in boats in his house. He'd slaughter every single person on sight if someone even petted one of them wrong.
And currently, surrounded by their soft snowy coats, their warm eyes and their curled horns, he couldn't be happier.
He could lose them. All of them. The reality of it would never escape him. If one player saw the colin-y and got spooked and attacked when he wasn't around, then they'd be gone. Permanently.
At the thought, he approached Colin E and hugged the snowy creeper tight.
Martyn couldn't afford to lose them.
Any of them.
He hummed quietly, a song he'd heard in passing. He hadn't paid much mind to it before, so many parts of the song were lost, but he recalled the main bits of it. It was far from complete, but it was still a song.
Colin E made a small noise as if joining in with the song.
Smiling foolishly, Martyn's humming crescendoed. Other Colins joined in. He'd made himself a choir of creepers.
He pushed the thoughts of losing them out of his mind.
Martyn was content to be in the moment with them.
The Clock Is Ticking
The clock is ticking.
Lightning lights up the sky to mark the players that may never come back. They are remembered by the survivors. The threat of death looms over them all.
Eyes are everywhere. Hundreds of eyes crawling over the lands, the mountains, the bridges and the sea. They see it all. They smile and watch in quiet amusement as players perish. Those that watch know that they will succeed. After all, who can defy a game like this, with these rules, with no loopholes? For once, the players must play to perfection. There is no other option.
Bloodlust hit the players. Waves upon waves of the urge to kill. Hands itching for weapons. Bows and crossbows craving an arrow to fire. Blood pulsing through their veins, bubbling under their skin. The newfound reality of permanently dying only provides incentive. No one wants to die just yet.
Alliances fall apart. The so-called "Bad Boys" have been destroyed. Only one of them remains. And now they have joined a new group. So the name Bad Boys is no more than a memory that time has robbed of them.
The end cannot be prevented. No matter how much blood is shed. No matter how hard the players may try. They will die regardless of any efforts to thwart it.
Scott was taken by the sea, now belonging to its domain. The ocean was his and none could take it from him.
Martyn watched the sand of his hourglass. He knew time was running out and he would protect those he cared for until the end.
Grian lost them. Jimmy and Joel were dead. And now they were gone, and he joined the Nosy Neighbours, he couldn't help but curse those that watch for doing this to him.
Cleo feared for her family. She had not only her own time to take care of, but her boys' time too. There was a duty she'd taken up to protect them. And she refused to shirk it now.
TIES had lost Skizz. Now they were just TIE. Deaths were inevitable here, but the loss of their friend hit them. Skizz, who, despite losing over two hours in the first session, despite those that had killed him and despite the revenge that others would've taken, had chosen to instead be kind to the players. He'd made it his duty to complement and assure the others.
The clock was ticking.
For all of them.
Fishy Friendships
Scott hated his scales.
Yes, he was surrounded by the sea. Yes, he lived on an island. Yes he had coral in his hair and clinging to his clothes. And yes, he was part of a duo called Mean Gills. All of those things are very fish related, but that didn't mean he wanted to become a fish!
He couldn't change it now, though. He'd fallen to sixteen hours. He'd become a yellow life.
And for some reason, that meant scales were now appropriate.
Staring at his reflection in the sea, Scott ran his hand through the water to disrupt the offending image shown by the water. Glistening blue scales slowly creeping in on his face. They stayed near his forehead, but also went down the side of his head. Luckily his hair could cover most of them, but he would always see them.
His chest ached for reasons he couldn't explain.
He wanted to go swimming. He yearned to swim. For no apparent reason.
Taking a deep breath, Scott dived underwater.
He remembered dying. He was swimming, swimming as fast as he could, desperate to get away. Jimmy was hot on his trail. If he didn't act fast, Scott knew he would die. So he kept swimming. He swam and swam and swam. His lungs burned. Every muscle in his body screamed in pain. Martyn was close, too. Scott reached out for him, calling out Martyn's name, but all that came out was a garbled mess. Water flew into his lungs. Scott begged Martyn to kill him. He'd watched, helpless, as Martyn and Jimmy fought, shoving, kicking, elbowing each other, all whilst trying to kill him. Scott remembered how both Jimmy and Martyn had called out for him for different reasons. He felt the sword plunge into his heart. He felt it as his time as a green life was gone.
And suddenly Scott was panicking. Flailing in the water, his garbled screams could be heard all the way from the Bad Boys' mansion.
Someone dived into the water. One, no, two people had dived in. Scott couldn't tell who they were. They both looked too similar to each other. Maybe they were just one person. He couldn't tell.
He was being lifted up. Scott let them, no longer screaming in fear. The two people slowly swam up. He was getting closer and closer to breathing properly. Scott didn't even mind the water now. Even though he'd felt nothing but fear moments earlier. God he was a mess right now.
"Scott? Scott! Can you hear me?" He recognised one voice as Martyn's, but it was hard to make out the words. They all seemed to slur and mix, creating a weird linguistic concoction of nonsense.
"Scott, please. L-look at me. I'm sorry. Okay? I-i-if that helps, I'm s-sorry. Just-...please. Look at us, damnit!" Another voice cried out. This one was familiar too, but Scott couldn't place it.
His vision began to clear up.
Standing over him were Martyn and Jimmy.
"Please. Please just...acknowledge you can hear us. I-I need to know if you're alive. Your pulse is weird and-" Martyn's voice got caught in his throat.
Scott groaned. He tried to sit up, but Jimmy's gentle hands guided him back down. "H-hi," Scott offered weakly. Tears bubbled in Jimmy's eyes, and he hugged Scott tightly. Martyn was crying too, but instead was holding Scott's hand, squeezing it every few seconds.
No one moved for a while. Although Scott had recovered now, neither one of the men currently with him moved an inch. He resigned himself to watching the waves lap up at the edges of the Coral Isles. Night had crept up into the sky by now. He could hear the worried shouts of Grian and Joel off in the distance.
Reluctantly, Scott managed to crawl out of Jimmy's vice-like grip and just-...laid there. Not like there was much else to do. When he saw Joel and Grian, he gestured down to Jimmy with a simple thumbs-up directed towards them. The remainder of the Bad Boys visibly relaxed. The two dived into the sea with a faint splash and swam over at a slow pace. Scott knew they weren't slow swimmers. But it was excusable.
Jimmy had fallen asleep. With a nudge, he groggily blinked sleep out of his eyes and looked up at Scott.
"I'm sorry," he blurted out in an instant. "I'm sorry for trying to kill you and- and doing that, but I-I'm scared, I don't wanna die and we don't get a choice and-"
"It's...okay." Scott said in response. He didn't necessarily feel okay, but he could. He could learn to. For now, he'd just pretend.
"Timmy!" Grian clambered onto the island and tackled Jimmy with a hug. Joel followed soon after, slinging his arms around both of their shoulders. "Are you okay? You were gone for ages and we were worried but no death message appeared so-" Grian took a breath. "Sorry. I'm just worked up. Can we go home now?"
"Yeah, I'm exhausted after having to deal with Grian. Don't scare us like that again." Joel said in a playful tone. But it was clear to everyone that it was only there to maintain an act of confidence. In Joel's own, weird way, of course.
Jimmy looked to Scott for permission. He nodded, and Jimmy smiled at the others. As the Bad Boys left the Coral Isles, Jimmy dropped something on the ground.
"Wait, you-" Scott was about to tell him, but Jimmy smiled and shook his head. The Bad Boys disappeared.
Scott knelt down to pick up the item Jimmy dropped.
A poppy.
"You alright?" Martyn glanced up at Scott. He'd almost forgottten about his fellow Mean Gill!
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"Is that-"
"Mm-hmm." Scott showed Martyn the poppy. "But, I don't know what it means anymore. So..." Scott walked to the edge of the Coral Isles. Memories flashed up in his mind, memories of him and Jimmy in the first of the Life Games spent together. Each one was closely tied to the poppy and the Pufferish of Peace. But since Jimmy lost the pufferish, Scott was going to lose the poppy.
"Are you sure?" Martyn hurriedly asked.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Scott threw the poppy into the sea.
"My place is with you. Here. On the Coral Isles. Not with him anymore." Scott smiled at Martyn and held out his hand. Martyn took it without hesitation.
It felt nice having a friend.
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.
A Token of Peace
The Pufferish of Peace had been a spontaneous thought. Perhaps not even that. A distant memory, lingering in the back of his mind that sang of different times and different lives. It called to him like how the sirens would sing from their islands, luring sailors to their untimely and gruesome demise without the slightest of remorse. The world worked like that. Ruthless and cruel. It would give and give and give, but the second you failed to return that favour, it would take everything from you.
Yet as Scott named the small pufferfish in the bucket, he couldn't help but reflect on his time so far. Only 24 hours to live. He'd gained some as the Boogeyman, but he knew that time would run out. After all, 24 hours only amounted to a day. Even if he managed to not die at all, which was unlikely, there was still not enough time to do much with his life. What did he want out of such a short existence? He'd seen so many battles, cried over the loss of his husband in one life, refused to kill his friends until he had no choice in another, and died in favour of his so-called "soulmate" in the last. This one was just another life where he'd lose someone in the end. Maybe Martyn. Maybe Scar. Maybe Pearl.
But god forbid it be Jimmy.
Scott travelled the distance to where the self-named "Bad Boys" lived on top of the Woodland Mansion. He climbed up the walls, careful not to let the bucket tip too far lest the pufferfish escape. It was precarious, but it felt right. Giving it to Jimmy felt right.
"Iya!" Scott called out as he jumped onto the roof. It was evident how startled Jimmy had been in that split second. Fair. Anyone could be trying to kill him at this point. It was only about an hour or two ago when Scott had to kill Skizz.
"Oh!" Jimmy smiled at Scott. Then paused. His brows furrowed in confusion. "Wh-what did you say?"
"I said 'iya'."
"What does that mean?"
"Like 'hi'. Hiya."
"What is- why is that- i-iya?" Jimmy fumbled to speak as he tried to mimic Scott's greeting. Scott honestly found it amusing to watch. He'd almost forgotten his very first life with Jimmy in the flower forest. Now, he could picture exactly why the two had been husbands back then.
"Like iya! Like 'hiya', but the 'h' is more quiet." Scott repressed a giggle.
"Uh- nice. How you doing?" It was a bit awkward to talk with Scott in Jimmy's opinion. The two had a lot of history, and the whole "soulmate" thing had made it somewhat worse. It was bad enough that they had been husbands once, but how do you talk to your husband from a life ago when in the most recent life he'd been soulmates with Tango?
"Good! I heard you were living on top of the mansion." Scott took a deep breath. "I have something for you."
"What's that?" Jimmy moved closer. To say he was intrigued would be an understatement.
Scott grabbed the bucket with the pufferfish in it. He tensed ever so slightly and handed it over to Jimmy.
A second passed. It felt like hours.
Jimmy stared at the pufferfish in the bucket. The Pufferish of Peace. He chuckled to himself.
"Ooh. Pufferish of Peace!"
"Yeah!"
"You ev- you even spelt it the same!" Jimmy felt euphoria flood his veins. This was a peace treaty of sorts. A way of knowing that Scott remembered it all, too.
"I did!" Scott tried to hold back the tears of joy brimming in his eyes. "I live in the coral reef now. And as Etho said 'you're gonna get a lot of pufferfish' one appeared. And it felt kind of like a sign, so I had to bucket it, name it, then come and drop it off."
"Alright, let me put it in my chest." Jimmy was quick to run over to the chest and tenderly place the Pufferish of Peace inside. "My Bad Boys' chest!"
"Your Bad Boys' chest." Scott laughed soundlessly under his breath. It was nice seeing Jimmy like this. The Life Games had changed them both so drastically that it was the small things like this that made him happy.
"There it is. Pufferish of Peace. I'll keep him in there and if I get an item frame I'll put it in there." Jimmy whole-heartedly hoped he'd be able to uphold that promise.
For a few moments, as the two filled the silence with idle chatter, their minds lit up with the phantom sense of remembrance.
Between them, though they couldn't see it, poppies had taken root in their hearts and refused to be moved.
A Dead Canary In The Garden
Scott stared out of his window in a trance. The shimmering water of the lake was illuminated by the golden rays of light from the sun dipping below the horizon. Trees surrounded this lake in a protective circle in a desperate effort to hide the lake from Scott's clutches. That's what it felt like. But in all fairness, he wasn't exactly the best person to have around. Death and decay clung to him, shackles that he could never remove no matter how hard he tried. Maybe once he could have done it, but not anymore. Not since the one person Scott loved more than life had been taken from him.
Now he was resigned to watching the lake from a distance. He didn't trust himself to go near it. Maybe later. For now, it felt like attempting such a feat would end badly. Particularly with the lake evaporating or bubbling to the point where it would burn anyone who even tried to come near it. Almost like how Scott had tried to hide himself from the other witches. After all, wouldn't he always be the bad guy in their stories? The Necromantic Witch, who brought the undead with him wherever he went, who cursed those he deigned worthy of such burdens, who would actively seek out trouble by attacking his fellow witches or simply messing with them. Thinking back on it, he didn't even know if he was the good guy in his own story. How could he be?
Sighing to himself, Scott left the confines of his house. The walls sought to suffocate him, and that wasn't something Scott could deal with right now. But what if he let it happen? If he let the walls suck the air out of his lungs and finally allow Scott to die? Would he be happy? Would Scott finally see him again? He chuckled to himself. If the Necromantic Witch had died, he had no doubt in his mind that the others would find it amusing. The irony of it pulled another laugh out of his lungs.
Wandering slowly outside, he allowed his feet to carry him. He didn't have a particular destination in mind. As long as he was moving, he'd be fine. Movement meant he was alive. Or maybe he'd been reanimated by a different necromancer. Either way, it meant he was walking, which was good. Most of the time, death meant nothingness for eternity. Or so that's what all those books had taught him.
To his surprise, he found himself in a familiar part of the forest. One he hadn't been to since he received the letter stating he'd be partaking in a competition to become Supreme Witch. Since he had built the home they had dreamt of before-....
He shook his head.
Scott approached the back of the cabin. A small patch of grass lay behind it, distinctly out of place. It was a far brighter patch of grass than the decayed grass surrounding it. A single flower was left there along with a small headstone with lovingly carved words on its surface. Scott remembered carving it. The grief that had wracked his body almost made him mess up. Luckily, he'd managed to carve it correctly without any huge mistakes.
"Hello again Petal," Scott said quietly. He stared down at the flower on the ground. A poppy. Symbolising death and remembrance. "Do you like the flower? I'm sorry I couldn't get you more. Flowers don't seem to like me much anymore." He paused. No answer came from the grave. Only silence. "I love you. And I will get you back. I promise." He knelt down and picked up the poppy. He kissed each one of its many petals and carefully placed it back on the grave.
One way or another, he would bring him back.
okay fine you can have a few more, as a treat.
part one
(friend birthday special set)
Choose your last words
This is the last time
'Cause you and I
We were born to die
[WILD LIFE EP 7 SPOILERS]
Scott's Jimmy's radar cuz he loves him lots and lots and lots BUT IT'S SUPERHERO AU
Scott and Jimmy are dating, and Scott's a hero but he hasn't told Jimmy yet (WOW I WONDER HOW MANY TROPES I CAN MILK FROM THAT SENTENCE ALONE).
All Jimmy knows is Scott's job always call him at ungodly hours and Scott should really take more breaks! He's so overworked! I'd wanna say Scott is more of a spy guy, so he's safe from having too many injuries that makes it suspicious
Superpowers aren't a rarity in this world, Scott can turn into animals (maybe this is how he won over Norman and Flick, being their playmate LOL) so I want to imagine his senses are heightened, that's why he can easily sense Jimmy around even when he's invisible. Yeah it's exactly like dogs and cats seeing smth that isn't there to the normal human eyes.
Jimmy likes to surprise Scott, does it work? No. Does he know that? Yes. Does Scott still play along cause it's endearing? Yes. Are they having fun and being adorable? YES
But then one day, Scott gets called in and is told superheroes are going missing (I haven't thought this part through lol), and based on security footages that they could gather from the crimescenes, the heroes just suddenly DROPPED to the floor, smokebombs poof poof, then get carried off. They suspect it's some kind of powerful sleep gas, so they want to send Scott spying along a small troop to investigate.
That night, Scott's spying, and what he sees is surprising. No gas, no tranquilizer. The heroes are dropping to the floor like flies. It almost seemed like they were hit in the back of the head? How is that possible?
Then his senses are tingling, he transforms back, rushes over in a haze of smoke bomb, and grabs,,, something. He's grabbing something that isn't there, he's grabbing someone's wrist but he can't see it, he can't see them. He doesn't know who they are. He's lying, he knows it's him.
Would
"I am the mastermind, he's my accomplice"
"You're only still alive because I made a promise"
Fit FH in Crowns of Antlers (fic by scribblingdragons)
I was just scrolling tiktok and heard it and popped the idea,
if not what do you think would fit them?
ALSMP spoilers
Everyone, EVERYONE
So since Jimmy did that whole reverse-kidnapping scene
Joel's his dad canon
So now, A father and son duo with half dragon!Jimmy and full dragon!Joel
With a dad making a giant salmon bomb to kill his son lol
(It's a perfect family dynamic because honestly Shapeshifter!Lizzie AU because of how quick she dies)
Hear this, a father with a creation that killed his son. Sounds familiar??
*ALSMP SPOILERS*
Omg guys wth, I just realized smth😭
Lizzies deaths:
1st death: In the end/Fall into the void
2nd death: Same as first
3rd death: Killed by Lauren/An enderian
-> All related to the end,
LORE? LORE
Jimmys deaths:
1st death: Killed by Fwip
2nd death: Killed by Joel
->Killed by a player
Sausages deaths:
1st death: Fall damage
2nd death: Fall damage
->Coincidence? Well looking at Lizzies, perhaps all members will die in a similar way to their first one. Pattern? Pattern!
-> So based on the 1st death, we might be able to predict all memebers future ways to die
But hey, it's just a theory, a film theory, or is it?
Jimmy's and Joel's Afterlife SMP episode 7 spoilers!
(Also Empires spoilers)
*TALKING ABOUT CHARACTERS ONLY, NOT CCs!!!*
I was so certain it was either gonna be Scott or Sausage to kill our server's local cat jesus (based on Jimmy's streams).
https://youtu.be/KPWVMFfqG1Q
I guess Jimmy reverse kidnapping (surprise adoption!) failed lol.
Anyways theory time, sorry ya'll but I'm pumping out ideas rn. Just gotta wait until exams are over to unleash hell on this blog!!
So, in Empires, Joel has a familiar connection to both Lizzie and Jimmy (his wife and brother-in-law).
And in both their recent death on AL, he is present. So we all kinda agree on the fact, after everyones finales, Jimmy and Lizzie lost themselves and memories again, Joel basically became that "good guy goes and abandon morals" (man lost his family, friends and that big castle in like 5 minutes)
->Joel became the mad king.
How can you be a mad king without at least killing your families for unintentionally abandoning you amirite? He doesn't remember his past life but the regrets of that life transfered to this one like a sort of whisper in the back of the head that gets louder everytime
People will focus on orge!Joel but I, who still has not gotten over empires finales, will cling onto any theories of empires as long as my brain still functions
SPOILERS FOR EMPIRES, AFTERLIFE SMP
(Maybe 3rd and last life too)
(Mostly lizzie's afterlife ep 5)
Danm ya'll know how Lizzie been dying extremely fast lately
Raccoon:3 eps
Floran:2 eps
Slime: 1 ep
Her next origin might last for only half an episode holy
3rd and last life watchers gotta know abt canary!jimmy and how he always die first and his death is a warning to all around, a blessing disguised as a curse?
So since empires smp canonly is afterlife smp past life (pretty sure based on Scott's cat name and Jimmy's salmon hatred lol)
Ocean Queen has that whole prophecy book, what if Canary!Jimmy is also mentioned. So she prays to the gods above that they release her poor brother of the curse. Since they can't get rid of it completely, Now Lizzie bears most of the curse, basically her life gets cut short, die first in the smp and death brings chaos shaban, while Jimmy still also has the his death bring total destruction.
Just a silly idea, sorry if this makes no sense lol
YES YES YES YES
YES THEY DID IN EXACTLY ONE FIC
Please consider my oli/jimmy fic it's the only one. It's both of them missing hermits and being lonely on their empty empires and hanging out and flirting.
(Seriously how am i supposed to do anything besides post this. Sausage if you see this, thanks for putting the idea on people's heads, it's a good ship.)
Please please please please please please please please please ple-
Wet paper bag duo villain arc PLEASE 😔😔☹😞
Also Olipod is that small because he's inspired off of a cabbage patch kid doll 😌
Would it be kinda cool if Jimmy and Oli had maybe sorta homoerotic villain arc together
The dynamic impeccable and possibilities endless
LOOK AT THE LITTLE CANARY IN THE CARROT CAKE!! I just thought he was a small but nice detail
(Martyn thumbnail for limited life session 7)
(repost bcz i made a mistake in the previous version)
i finally finished
after like- nearly a month of drawing these goobers, im finally done :D i love them so much <333
SESSION 8 SPOILERS BEWARE ‼️
omg… grians session 8 episode was so silly xD id like to imagine that jim coming back as a ghost was a reward for jim not being first out-also joel saying “nothing wrong with kissing your homies” at the end cracked me up lol
nearly done with the life series in your style!!! just gotta color :3
Guys this is a polycule I think...
Hermitcraft / Life series funnies
I made these at 3:24am this morning (not the original posts of course). I hope you enjoy :333