First Guy To Be Cursed By God And Like It

After a brief foray into the storage room—‘organize shulkers’ still sits unchecked at the bottom of her list—False is left carefully balancing a tower of cups tucked between her palm and chin. The wobble back to the bar is all of fifteen paces, but for the entirety of its duration, stray worries catch and tangle within False’s mind as her gaze flits across her base.

She loves it—don’t get her wrong! Through a plethora of experimenting and tweaking of her own techniques, she’s brought to life what she had envisioned, down to the grime of the darkened main hub and the welcoming light of each building within it. It’s a cool base with cool little details that’s cool to wander around. It might even be one of her favorite bases she’s ever created. Still, she fiddles with individual banners, unsure of their color, and finds herself agonizing over walls she’s already swapped out once or twice.

It’s fine. If something’s crooked, or slightly out of place, it just matches the aesthetic more, right? Nothing to agonize over!

In practice, it’s a little harder to banish her perfectionism. She starts to stack the mugs to the left of the coffee machine, changes her mind, then re-stacks them to the right.

False goes back and forth between the bar and her storage room to grab all the cups, plus a few extra embellishments she thought the bar could use. Halfway through, the tell-tale whoosh of an elytra interrupts False’s process. She turns just in time to see Pearl, dressed in her postmaster ensemble and holding a white shulker box, gliding through the hub’s entrance.

“Uh, hello?” False calls out, arms full of mugs, banners, and a single flower pot. Pearl spots her and brightens, jogging over with a wave.

“Heya, Falsie!” she cheerfully greets. “Need a hand with all that?”

“I’ve got it, thanks,” False says, offering a friendly smile back. “You’ve changed hats.”

Pearl gives her brim a tap. “Indeed I have!” she says. “The sun hat doesn’t match the uniform as well, now, does it?”

“I guess not.” False reaches the counter and dumps her materials onto it. Pearl comes around the bar and perches on the stool opposite to False. “What are you doing over here? Also, do you want some coffee?”

“Oh! I’d love some.” Pearl sets the shulker down and pushes it False’s way. “Anyway, we’re so close to the end, now, I figured I’d personally deliver everyone’s last bits of mail,” she explains. “Call me sentimental.”

“Sounds nice,” False says. She tucks the shulker under the counter to investigate later and sets a mug under the coffee machine’s spout, poking at it until it begins to drip. “I’ll bet it’s exciting seeing everyone’s bases, too.”

“That’s my secret second reason,” Pearl says with a wink. “Everyone’s been working so hard on their final projects; it’s fun getting them to show it off.”

“That’s a nice way to end off the season,” False says. “Have you got everything at yours finished up?”

“You know how bases go—there’s always more that could be added. But I reckon I’m at a good point to call it done,” Pearl says. She leans over the bar conspiratorily. “You’re cued into my secret now, and there’s a lovely base here just waiting to be toured. So, False, I’ve gotta ask… what’cha been up to?”

The coffee in Pearl’s waiting mug has only just fully covered the bottom rim, and sitting around staring at it won’t hurry the process along. False dusts off her gloves and leads the way.

Pearl, as it turns out, is a fantastic audience. As they meander through the main hub, she compliments thoroughly, and asks all sorts of questions about the base and False’s season as a whole. She’s easy to talk to, and soon False finds herself rambling about the building techniques she’s utilized and the story she’s worked to construct, from the broad strokes to the nitty-gritty she’s still scrutinizing.

Within the circle, they stop to discuss the phantoms and give the stable horses carrots. Outside, they loop around the lower perimeter and stop beneath the main tree to feel the cool breeze rustling through its massive bough. Its lanterns capture their discussion for a fair few minutes before Pearl spots the river course across the way, and they both agree to meet up for a race before the season’s end.

What really gets Pearl excited are the airships.

“Oh, False, these are wonderful!” she exclaims, running a hand appreciatively over the curved hull of the docked ship they’re standing by. “This guy looks like it should be running supplies across the galaxy and back.”

False chuckles. “Something like that,” she says. “I haven’t thought too much about specific lore, honestly. It’s nice it comes across anyway.”

“Intentional or not, you’re a fantastic storyteller,” Pearl tells her. She turns to look behind them, a hand shielding her eyes from the late morning sun. “Gosh, this is an incredible base. You always create wonderful things, but you’ve really outdone yourself with this.”

“You flatter me,” False says, feeling both the warmth and the slight antsiness that manifest when it comes time to accept a particularly earnest compliment. “I wasn’t sure about the copper on these, honestly.”

“Don’t sell yourself so short, mate!” Pearl playfully nudges her. “It’s looking awesome around here, seriously. I know I’ve loved exploring it.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” False says sincerely. “Wanna go see some science-y stuff?”

“I’d enjoy nothing more.”

By the time they return to the bar, the mug under the coffee machine is perfectly full. After adding some sugar and a dash of cream, False slides it across the counter to Pearl, who immediately takes a hefty swig. If it’s too hot, she doesn’t show it.

“As lovely as the base,” she says with a wink, and turns the cup in her hands to inspect its flecked design. “I’m gonna miss it! Everything we’ve all made. This season has felt really special, you know?”

“Yeah, it has,” False agrees. “Do you have any ideas yet? For the next season?”

“Not quite yet,” Pearl says between sips. “I’ll have to see where things take me, you know? Find inspiration along the way, after I’ve found a good spot.”

“That’s fair,” False says. “I’ve got a… vibe, for mine. No plans, but I think it’ll be cool.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” Pearl says. “Honestly, it’d be pretty fun being close enough to watch it pop up in real time. I don’t think we’ve ever been neighbors, have we?”

False casts her memory back to the previous seasons they’ve shared. “I don’t think we have,” she says after a moment. “It'd be nice being nearby, though.”

“Well, we can’t say anything too quickly, but if we happen to wander in the same direction, I’d be pretty darn happy about it,” Pearl says.

“I think I’d be pretty happy about it too,” False says, smiling.

“We’ve come to an agreement, then, haven’t we?” Pearl polishes off her coffee and sets the empty mug gently down. “This has been wonderful. Do you accept tips?”

False laughs. “Haven’t set up the tip jar yet, you caught me.”

“In that case, then,” Pearl says, slinging her mailbag back over her shoulder and hoisting her shulker onto her hip, “enjoy a cup yourself for me, will you? It’s quite tasty.”

“Will do,” False says, and gives a little salute.

“Thanks for the tour!” Pearl calls over her shoulder as she spreads her wings wide. “Catch you next season!”

“See you!” False waves to Pearl’s retreating back. When the sound of rockets fully disperses, False grabs the mug and washes it out, sets it to rest alongside the others, and gets back to work.

Hours later, after the sunny afternoon has cooled into a crisp evening, False puts away her empty thermos and sets herself a cup to brew while she tidies her storage room. The coffee machine dings just as she’s picking up the final shulker, and the mug’s heat is welcome through her gloves. She brings her drink over to the western entrance to watch the sunset. All she’s built is bathed in gold; surrounded by warmth, she’s satisfied with it in its entirety.