Currently full of Blockmen

Full disclosure I restarted about 4 times and then got really hyperfixated on crochet, but! I finished and I think it came out pretty good

Trapped in an Unyielding Orbit

Summary: The void has been following (haunting?) Planet for a while now. No one else seems to realize that they can't escape its cold gaze.

Characters: Planetlord, Spokeishere, Ashwagg and Zam very briefly, Jaron and Bacon mentioned

Tags: Haunting, Paranoia, Planet uses they/them pronouns, Spoke uses it/its pronouns, Cannibalism, Temporary Character Death

Word Count: 1852

Summary:

Finding himself in a safe place turned sour, Zam turns to the one thing they can't take from him: praying to something which cannot hear him.

Relationships: Implied PrinceZam & Mapicc & Roshambo Word Count: 1368 Notes & Warnings: Religious themes, this fic has a bit of a weird format but I hope it reads alright ^_^

Summary:

Finding himself in a safe place turned sour, Zam turns to the one thing they can't take from him: praying to something which cannot hear him.

Relationships: Implied PrinceZam & Mapicc & Roshambo Word Count: 1368 Notes & Warnings: Religious themes, this fic has a bit of a weird format but I hope it reads alright ^_^

Summary:

Finding himself in a safe place turned sour, Zam turns to the one thing they can't take from him: praying to something which cannot hear him.

Relationships: Implied PrinceZam & Mapicc & Roshambo Word Count: 1368 Notes & Warnings: Religious themes, this fic has a bit of a weird format but I hope it reads alright ^_^

Summary:

Finding himself in a safe place turned sour, Zam turns to the one thing they can't take from him: praying to something which cannot hear him.

Relationships: Implied PrinceZam & Mapicc & Roshambo Word Count: 1368 Notes & Warnings: Religious themes, this fic has a bit of a weird format but I hope it reads alright ^_^

Summary:

Finding himself in a safe place turned sour, Zam turns to the one thing they can't take from him: praying to something which cannot hear him.

Relationships: Implied PrinceZam & Mapicc & Roshambo Word Count: 1368 Notes & Warnings: Religious themes, this fic has a bit of a weird format but I hope it reads alright ^_^

She sits down, soul lantern in hand, and coughs expectantly. She waits a moment. She coughs louder.

It feels like the stone around her sighs outwards with an edge of Tango’s rasp in its voice, and the door to Decked Out opens on its own accord.

“So, do you want to start, or should I?”

The hermits, gathered in the halls and cubbyholes of Decked Out, talked about this factually. The dungeon was laced tradition and superstition.

The hermits said it ate people, that it craved blood. Some hermits had lucky cards or items, others touched parts of the dungeon before going in. They all joked about the dungeon having a crush on Etho.

Hypno thought this was all bullshit.

And while he wasn’t one to diss other people’s superstitions (at least not in a hurtful way), the way some of the hermits talked about the dungeon was… weird.

Hypno could only shake his head and stay quiet. “It’s chance! Chance and RNG and skill! The dungeon is a machine, not some beast in need of hermit butts to keep it satisfied!” He wanted to say. But he didn’t say anything, just stuck to the sidelines, quiet and thinking about his own runs, what he could explore next.

Regardless of differences, the hermits could all agree on one thing: decked out was addictive. Hypno had spent more hours then he cared to admit in the dungeon, just so he could be near the place, hear strategies. And he liked to play, had a bit of a knack for the dungeon itself. Phases one through three had been tons of fun, tons of exploration and death and success. But Phase four…

“Damn it!”

Hypno wondered if there was a death speedrun record yet for Decked Out, and if he’d just done it. Killed by Skill Issue almost as soon as he’d cleared the first room. The whole week had been like this, he hadn’t succeeded once.

“Too bad, man.” Hypno could hear Cub saying from beyond the door when he respawned.

“Appreciate it, man. Ugh!” Hypno hit the button to open the door and went to sit on the floor next to where Cub was leaning against a wall. “I’ve had such bad luck this week!”

“That sucks. Maybe the dungeon is just mad at you.” Cub suggested, looking down at Hypno.

Hypno put his hands to his face. “Cub, what?”

“Well, you know, I mean, of everyone here, I think you and I have penetrated the dungeon the deepest.”

“Don’t say it like that, please.”

“It’s the truth, though.” Cub continued. “You play that dungeon rough, and maybe it’s tired of you. Wants the annoying bug named Hypno to get out as fast as possible. And how to you get rid of something that’s annoying you? You smack it.”

“The dungeon isn’t alive, Cub.” Hypno said, looking up at him. “You do know that, right? It’s just a game.”

“I dunno, man…” Cub looked down at him. “I pay my respects to the dungeon… maybe you should consider it too.”

It dawned on Hypno, in that moment, just how much the sculk had spread across Cub’s skin, curling into his eyes and staining his skin an inky blue. Hypno shivered, and wondered just how Cub was “paying respects” to the dungeon.

——

Hypno went again as soon as the dungeon was ready. He and Cub hadn’t said another word since their brief conversation, and Hypno could feel Cub’s eyes on his back, watching him in silence. Those glittery, dark eyes. The door closed in between them, and Hypno tried to shake off the kind of damp, uncomfortable feeling on his skin.

“Right, hard mode, let’s do this.” Hypno murmured, pressing the correct button from the list and placing his shulker box. A minecart appeared, and down into the dungeon he went.

The problem was, with the minecart ride, was that it was far too long, with too much silence for thoughts to creep in. Of all people, Hypno hasn’t expected Cub to be one of the hermits treating the dungeon like a living thing. But then again, Hypno reasoned, was Cub really all Cub right now? But regardless of who was in charge of Cub’s form right now, Cub ran the dungeon great most of the time.

But he’s just good at the game, a little voice inside Hypno argued.

But so are you… another voice argued back.

The minecart ride ended, and Hypno was facing the doors of the dungeon. He took a deep, centering breath, tightened his bandanna. The dungeon isn’t mad at you, the dungeon doesn’t have feelings, it’s a building, Hypno assured himself.

He grabbed the compass- a simple level one- and snuck his way thought the icy rooms and halls. He had an ear out for ravengers, but something was different. It smelled different. Rather then the kind of cold that blocked out everything, the air smelled stale, but slightly metallic. Hypno smelled his shirt- it wasn’t him, although he was sweating like crazy. A ravenger suddenly roared, barreling around the corner, even though Hypno was out of sight. Hypno ran, jumping over the river of souls and into the crypt. He had half a mind where this compass location may be, and pounded down the stairs. He wasn’t sure what it was, Cub or just a feeling, but he didn’t want to be here too long.

He found the compass location and threw it in, getting his own bandana artifact. The second he picked it up, the dungeon groaned, metal against metal, ice against ice. He could hear ravengers bellowing, running towards him. Hypno looked around, but there was nothing that suggested this was all some kind of prank.

“What is happening?” Hypno asked himself. He tightened his bandana, took a deep breath, and ran back up the stairs, only interested in leaving this place.

The coffins around him were rattling, someone was pounding against the stone. He could hear vex screeching, even though he was nowhere near max clank yet. He kept running, sure of his way.

Ravengers lunged at him.The walls were contracting, shuddering violently as the dungeon screamed in his ears-

He fell onto the pressure plates that marked the exit, scrambled to the short chute that would send him to the end of the dungeon, and maybe he could get out and touch some grass or something. He jumped down into the hole, taking deep, gasping breaths as he fell. And he kept falling. Before he could really process that this was a far longer drop then any other time he’d finished the dungeon, he hit a puddle of water with a splash.

“Yeah, dungeon isn’t happy with you, man.”

Cubfan stood before him, like he’d been there the whole time. The room Hypno had landed in was caked in sculk, all shimmering and almost bulging outwards towards him.

“Where are we, Cub?” Hypno asked hesitantly, trying to steady his breathing, slowly moving to stand on solid ground. Every instinct the dungeon, and life in general had taught him was that something was very, very wrong.

“The Burning Dark, of course. You’re a smart guy, I bet you knew that already. The dungeon thinks you’re smart. Hates that you’re smart. Hates that you don’t fear it like you should.” Cub paused, and in that silence was the heartbeat of the dungeon. “Are you scared now, Hypno?”

In a place so void of information, with only sculk and the creeping realization that Cub was not here to save him, Hypno’s mind raced, but came to no conclusion.

“No.” He lied.

“The dungeon is hungry, Hypno. You die a lot, but you haven’t died for the dungeon yet.”

A sword was in Cub’s hand, and suddenly it wasn’t Cub and a creepy room, but a ravenger named “nothing, they survived decked out!”. But there was no button and door here, no pretend savior. Hypno was going to die, sacrificed to the dungeon by this person who wasn’t all Cub. Hypno straightened his bandana. Well, if this was going to be how this went down, he wouldn’t let the dungeon have the satisfaction of his fear.

“Do you know how sculk works, Hypno?” Cub was advancing, in slow, meaningful steps.

“No.” Hypno looked him down, didn’t move.

“The more you kill, the more it spreads.” The room was covered in the stuff. How many hermits had come here to die, be sacrificed to keep the dungeon happy?

“We could just leave, my guy. Touch some grass, talk to other hermits. You don’t have to do this.” Hypno said, but he knew his words only absorbed into the sculk. Cub was in front of him now, sword between them.

“Run. Maybe you can escape again.” Cub rasped.

“No.” Hypno replied. He didn’t move. Not even when the blade pierced his heart. He fell in place, sinking to the floor that would take his sacrifice. He could feel Cub kneel beside him, take the bandana off his head.

“You’re so annoying, Hypno. Can’t even die like everyone else.” It wasn’t Cub speaking.

——

"What did you do to it?"

"Huh?"

Tango shudders. He folds his arms over himself and looks at Jellie the ravager. "What did you do to it. To this place. Why is it... warm?"

"I mean, it's not really warm, see it's all white so it actually doesn't retain heat very well, even with the froglamps, so I had to do some work to make sure the temperature was appropriate for heavy physical activity while not risking frostbite the way the actual dungeon does, and..."

Grian trails off.

"The point is that it's mostly just, I don't know, mild temperature? Unnoticeable temperature? The fact you commented on it is weird."

There's a strangely echoing quality to Tango's voice as he steps back again, against the door to the practice room. "It's clean."

"Yeah. I mean, that's the aesthetic, isn't it? Wiped clean of everything but the ravager, the water, and the drowned. None of the distractions. Good for practicing, you know?" Grian squints. "You should like it. You said you'd like it. Wanted people to be able to practice so they'd do better at the dungeon."

Tango shudders again. "You've wiped clean the ravagers, too. I can't... touch her."

"What?" Grian says, baffled.

"What have you done to this place," Tango says.

"Listen, I won't have you insulting my clean room," Grian says. "I cleaned it of all the dungeon bits. It's nice and easy and white and understandable. I won't have you corrupting it."

Hm. Not sure where that one came from, he realizes. Probably a bad sign. He'd certainly guess as much from Tango, who is staring at him with something akin to horror.

In a voice that echoes like a card readout, Tango says: "You won't do this in the dungeon. You'll feed us what's left from this. Or I'll have to ask you to move it."

Grian rolls his eyes. "Geez, yeah, I won't touch the actual dungeon! I already broke the sound test room, I'm not breaking any really important redstone. Now, do you want to see the drowned dodging room or not?"

"I'm horrified to find out what happened to the drowned, if this is your ravager."

Grian looks between Jellie's blank stare and Tango and throws up his hands. "Nothing! I did nothing to her! I have no idea what you're on about!"

"It's like you bleached their insides," mutters Tango. "Bleached everything. It's not natural."

"Not natural? Like you're one to talk!"

"I need to know. Show me," Tango says.

"Right then. Take off your armor first, I don't want Jellie getting thorned or something, then let's practice some dodging and get in there. Then you'll see this is a perfectly normal set of eerie white rooms and leave me alone, right?"

Tango makes a face.

My web weave for dive out of nothing (and into more) by @ahautism.

An amazing amazing fic you have to read it!!! So grateful to be paired with him!! This is for the e!false and oli enjoyers!!!!

Sources under the cut

Here's my piece for @mcyt-hc-writing's wonderful fic Out To The Galaxy Steady She Goes! I had so much fun trying to visualize some of the amazing ships and designs from the au. Pspspsp you should all go check it out :DDDD

[ID: art of Pearlescent Moon, Gemini Tay, and Impulse SV, standing against a dark blue background and holding flashlights. Pearl wears a white tee, jeans, and a blue jacket with a moon patch. She looks nervous as she shines her light to the left. Gem, to her right, wears a green shirt tucked into blue shorts, and a matching blue jacket with a plant patch. She looks suspiciously to the right, eyes following the light of her torch. The girls are holding hands. Impulse stands behind them, back to the viewer. On the back of his blue jacket is a patch of a cartoon ghost in a wooden bowl. His torch is shone upwards, illuminating the words "just get to know me" at the bottom of the image, this is followed up with "now that I'm dead" in brackets. END ID]

My art for @mcytblraufest!!! This is the cover art for @vampireautism's fic, Just Get to Know Me (Now That I'm Dead).

basically when you want to get your advanced scuba certification (allowing you to go more than 60 feet deep) you have to undergo a very specific test: your instructor takes you down past the 60+ foot threshold, and she brings a little underwater white board with her.

she writes a very basic math problem on that board. 6 + 15. she shows it to you, and you have to solve it.

if you can solve it, you're good. that is the hardest part of the test.

because here's what happens: there is a subset of people, and we have no real idea why this happens only to them, who lose their minds at depth. they're not dying, they're not running out of oxygen, they just completely lose their sense of identity when deep in the sea.

a woman on a dive my instructor led once vanished during the course of the excursion. they were diving near this dropoff point, beyond which the depth exceeded 60 feet and he'd told them not to go down that way. the instructor made his way over to look for her and found a guy sitting at the edge of the dropoff (an underwater cliff situation) just staring down into the dark. the guy is okay, but he's at the threshold, spacing out, and mentally difficult to reach. they try to communicate, and finally the guy just points down into the dark, knowing he can't go down there, but he saw the woman go.

instructor is deep water certified and he goes down. he shines his light into the dark, down onto the seafloor which is at 90 feet below the surface. he sees the woman, her arms locked to her sides, moving like a fish, swimming furiously in circles in the pitch black.

she is hard to catch but he stops her and checks her remaining oxygen: she is almost out, on account of swimming a marathon for absolutely no reason. he is able to drag her back up, get her to a stable depth to decompress, and bring her to the surface safely.

holy shit its 🐠🥼 fis

after lots of speed-editing and not a lot of sleep the first thirteen (13) chapters of “there are many downsides to being a marine biologist” (aka fis au) are LIVE!!!

that's 24,676 words of fis so far. we're 40% of the way through! there will be a short break for a day or two as i do things like "bake some bread" and "talk to my partners" and maybe even "play minecraft." but we will resume shortly with a much more normal posting schedule of one chapter per day probably.