#blazeblings

Impulse’s voice carried towards him and he turned his head. Impulse and Gem were standing together, a book in Gem’s hands, and Impulse quickly waved to him. Tango paused, curious, before dashing across the grass to join them.

“What’s up?” Tango asked as he drew closer.

“I’m showing Impulse some photos from the Empires,” Gem explained. “Of my friends, you know.”

“Oh… yeah… I’m sorry, Gem-” Tango knew about the Empires—Gem had been staying there between seasons, and apparently it hadn’t ended much better than Season Eight.

“No, that’s not the point.” Gem shook her head and held out the book of pictures. “Impulse thought King Joel looked like you.” She smiled softly, as if expecting the comment to just be a nice gesture.

Tango took the book and glanced over the photos, taking in the gaudy, colourful clothes, and started, “Yeah, that’s nice-” before pausing.

Joel did look like him.

And… the name was familiar, too.

“Gem,” Tango croaked, throat feeling suddenly dry. “Who is this guy? Where’s he now?”

Gem hesitated. “Um… well, he was the king of Mezalea, in the badlands. He exported terracotta. I don’t know what happened to him… the explosion didn’t affect Mezalea as much, so he might still be there…” She shifted awkwardly, and Impulse cut in.

“Why, Tango? What’s up?” Impulse asked.

Tango was silent for a moment. Then he murmured, “My brother.”

Gem and Impulse just stared at him.

“My brother was named Joel,” Tango continued. “And- it’s been a long time, but-”

“You think… your Joel is the same as my Joel?” Gem asked quietly.

“I hope so,” Tango replied. “I thought- I thought I’d never see him again.”

“You shouldn’t get your hopes up, Tango,” Impulse said gently. “It might not be…”

“But it could be,” Tango interrupted. He turned and looked directly at Gem. “Could you go back there? Could you bring me?”

Gem hesitated. “Yes, I think I could,” she answered. “But it might be-”

“I don’t care.” Tango shook his head. “I have to know.”

He’s a blaze, yes, but they’re not strangers to non-humans. He’s hiding something, yes, but he’s not a bad guy. Deja vu, she says. You remind me of someone.

Tango just keeps thinking about his dead brother.

Because he is dead. There’s no way he isn’t.

Tango closes his eyes.

Salt and brimstone. Fire and dust.

He hates the Nether now, and it hates him, too.

Burning flesh. Lava pops.

“Deja vu,” Pearl says again. “You remind me of someone.”

“Who?” Tango croaks, throat dry and sore.

Pearl pauses. “The Mezalean king. Joel.”

Alive, but missing.

Tango doesn’t know if it’s worse.

Alive, but missing. Pearl can’t even give him a lead. It was destroyed, she says. All destroyed.

The smoke is in his lungs again.

He understands why Pearl looks at him like that. He’s a ghost, a remnant.

Joel stared out the window at the rain, forlorn. He couldn’t do much while it was wet, so he just sat and thought. It had never rained in Mezalea, so it hadn’t been a problem there, but now-

He was dead. Or at least, he thought he was dead. They called this place the Afterlife, but it seemed like a world the same as any other. Maybe it was just the Afterlife because it was the life after the Empires.

No, Joel thought. If I was dead, Lizzie would remember me. If this was my afterlife, I would be happy.

And his brother would be there, too.

Because he must’ve been dead by now. Tango couldn’t’ve survived in the Overworld for long, not without his big brother looking after him. We were supposed to stay together.

It wasn’t his fault, but Joel still blamed himself. How were they supposed to know that their escape route wouldn’t lead to the same place twice? Joel had ended up alone, and he assumed Tango had too. They’d escaped the Nether, but lost each other.

Joel pulled open the bottom drawer of his desk and retrieved an old, crumpled photograph. He brought it everywhere. It was all he had left of Tango. He flattened it out onto the desk, finally tearing his eyes away from the rain, and studied it.

They weren’t twins, not by a long shot, but they had similar, fiery hair—Tango’s had always crackled a yellowy-orange, while Joel’s stayed more of an ordinary brown other than for one stripe. And the eyes, of course. Bright ruby eyes for Tango, deep crimson for Joel. They’d been inseparable once, even as the horrors of living in a Nether fortress threatened to destroy them both.

Joel wondered if Tango had ever looked for him.

He’d tried, but…

Damn. What a great brother I am, huh?

If there were gods of the Nether, Joel would have prayed to them to know what had happened to him.

But it was no use hoping, because his brother was gone, either lost or dead, and Joel had given up on finding him a long time ago.

He sighed and went to return the picture to the drawer, but stopped. He considered for a moment, then leaned it against the window. It was the least he could do.

DYING MADE HIM BRITISHSNBDSBBSVSJS

~b-creativ3

“thought scar was the one trying to kill us, turns out it’s tango” imagine realizing after the game that that was your long lost brother. man