#corvidcode

Welsknight isn't entirely sure how he gets himself into these situations. Well, he knows everything leading up to the situation of course -- he lives it -- but still, the end product is a little baffling.

First, Tango pings him to ask for a favor. He doesn't specify the favor, so Welsknight just assumes it's about Decked Out {because everything for Tango is about Decked Out right now} and flies over no questions asked. As it turns out, he should have asked, because he arrives to the tell-tale bickering of dissonant voices. Tanguish is in a pit trap in one of the lower rooms, wincing over an injured ankle, while Tango ribs him relentlessly from above.

"I knew it was a good trap!" Tango crows pridefully. "It got you, didn't it?"

"The chains move!" Tanguish protests from underneath the offending string of chains. "How are any of your friends supposed to get across that?"

"They're not!" Tango laughs with frankly evil amounts of glee. "They're all going to fall, and I'm going to keep ravagers-- oh! There's my hero."

Welsknight nearly misses a step at the phrase my hero. It's all Tangotek-patented get-me-out-of-the-mess-I-made flattery, but it still flushes the back of his neck with a creeping blush. He doesn't get called hero very often these days. Not since Tanguish, really, and everything to do with hels and helsmets.

{He's trying not to be resentful, he really is. He keeps reminding himself it's his own fault, but that only ever gets him so far.}

Welsknight offers a crooked smile regardless. "I feel like this whole hero thing is just you buttering me up."

"What? Noooo," Tango lies through several squeaks and snickers, "but uh, unrelated, you didn't happen to bring any healing items with you?"

Tanguish whines from where he's trapped in the pit, "It's hot in here Tango!"

{Given the floor is made of magma blocks, Welsknight wagers it probably is a little uncomfortable down there.}

"You didn't ask me to bring any healing items?" Welsknight says, stepping up to the side of the trap. It's been turned off, but he can see the clear line of sticky pistons in the wall, made to catch and rattle the chain line -- probably the cause of Tanguish's fall.

{Welsknight makes the mental note to never get on Tango's bad side. If this is the kind of trap he makes for a fun game, he's not sure he wants to see the kind of trap he'd make for revenge purposes.}

Without waiting to be prompted -- because he knows exactly where this request will eventually end up going -- Welsknight steps off the edge of the trap to land in a crouch beside Tanguish. The abrupt change in the air from above to below is harsh enough to make him cough. It's all smoke and heat and fumes down here, and he very nearly has to crawl to keep his head below it. Shuffling awkwardly, Welsknight makes his way to Tanguish, who tries his best not to watch him like a cornered animal.

"Need a hand?" Welsknight asks with forced brightness, because the cornered-animal look still kind of stings.

{He's starting to feel like he needs a sign: X days since the last helsmet incident, just so he can prove he is getting better at living-and-let-living, thank you very much.}

"Uh..." Tanguish hesitates, searches around briefly to see if he has any other choice, then offers his hand regardless. "Sure. Th-thank you--!"

He doesn't expect Welsknight to sweep him up in his arms, and the inglorious shriek of surprise he makes against Welsknight's ear makes them both wince.

"No face-murder-ificating going on down there I hope?" Tango asks, grinning over the side of the trap. There's a tightness to his grin that Welsknight doesn't appreciate.

"Oh it's a bloody massacre," Welsknight says dryly, standing to his full height with Tanguish in his arms. "I'm taking his head off his shoulders as we speak."

"That's not funny," Tanguish mutters nervously at about the same time Tango bursts into laughter.

Welsknight's elytra gives one flap, and with skill that surprises even him, he manages to leap back out of the trap with Tanguish in tow. When he lands, he sets Tanguish on his feet again {Tanguish froze like a scared rabbit in his arms when they darted up here, and he gets the feeling the little helsmet will feel better on his own two feet, even with a busted ankle.} Tango wraps Tanguish's arm around his shoulders, and together the three of them limp slowly towards Decked Out's distant exit, Tango twittering excitedly about various trap and pitfall ideas. Welsknight listens attentively, mostly giving input along the lines of "that's evil, Tango", which generally gleans him an evil grin and more cackling laughter.

They reach their next roadblock when they come to the large staircase leading up to the top level of Decked Out. Both Tanguish and Tango hesitate, looking at the high, cramped stairs with the same weary dread as someone facing down a mountain. Welsknight sighs and {because he knows where this will eventually go as well} steps behind Tanguish to whisk the little pest off his feet again. He earns himself another cut off, surprised yelp, but this time Tanguish actually loops his arms around Welsknight's neck for stability, which is a marked improvement from scared-rabbit-stiffness.

"Y-you don't have to--" Tanguish starts.

Welsknight cuts him off with a very smooth, and somewhat smug, "I'm sure I don't," before taking the first step up the stairs.

He'll admit readily that at this point, hubris might have had him in its teeth. Tanguish was small, thin, and relatively light -- but he was still a person, and people were heavy. People are especially heavy in a bridal carry, where all his strength is narrowed down to the muscles in his arms, shoulders and back. Add to that the steep stairs, and the fact that he could barely see over Tanguish's body to figure out his next step, and that staircase turned into a burning, breathless, harrowing journey very much like the metaphorical mountain Tanguish and Tango seemed to be staring down earlier. Welsknight fought to moderate his breaths, to look smooth and unbothered, and not like a shaky mess about to trip and spill both of them onto the floor. It was a merciful relief when he made it to the last stair, and had to stand and catch his breath while Tango fumbled with the keys to get the door unlocked.

"Wels dude, you're a machine," Tango said glowingly, clearly impressed.

Welsknight smiled pleasantly and gave him a nod, because he was still too out of breath to actually respond. They emerged into the rest of Decked Out's highest floor, where Welsknight was afforded a bit more rest when he dropped Tanguish back onto his feet again -- though this time he wrapped his arm beneath Tanguish's shoulders to help him walk, instead of passing him off to Tango. It was a little awkward. Welsknight was just tall enough that he had to stoop while he walked, which put an ache in the center of his back that he was sure would bother him for the next few days.

"Uhm, th-thank you for the help, by the way," Tanguish murmured in the general direction of the ground, as though scared to meet Welsknight's eye.

"Of course," Welsknight said as gently and warmly as humanly possible. "It's no problem."

Tanguish grimaced a little at the of course, and Welsknight briefly wondered if, against all odds and attempts to the contrary, he'd managed to be rude and intimidating. Then he registered the look of vague guilt on Tanguish's face, and had to carefully hide his own bitter expression.

{Of course was, apparently, something Helsknight would say.}

Ahead of them, Tango ushered them through nearly-finished hallways, chattering excitedly about upcoming plans for redstone lines, mobs and additional traps. He had to stop himself a few times to ask Wels if he was going to play, before chuckling and adding "no spoilers" to some of his cut off statements. They were about halfway through the level when Tanguish had to stop and rest -- his limp on his bad ankle was getting markedly worse. His wince was starting to turn into a permanent expression, and he leaned more and more weight on Wels.

"Here," Welsknight offered when Tanguish had regained some of his composure. "We're close enough to the entrance, I bet I could fly with you."

"In those hallways?" Tanguish tittered nervously, hand circled neatly around his slowly swelling ankle. {Welsknight wondered if his touch was actually cold enough to keep the swelling down. He supposed Tanguish was made of ice and sculk.} "Uhm... I'm sure you're a great flyer Welsknight, but... Uhm. I'd rather not risk breaking my neck today."

Welsknight flashed him a daring smile, "Why not? I've carried you through caves before."

"I was too unconscious to panic about it then," Tanguish pointed out.

"I can knock you unconscious," Welsknight joked, then winced when he realized what he'd said.

{Right, Tanguish was probably too sensitive for that kind of--}

Tanguish barked a laugh, sounding nearly as surprised by his own humor as Welsknight was.

"I would rather skip the brain trauma, thanks," Tanguish chuckled, flashing Tango a sideways grin. "I think Tango's traumatized me enough."

"Dude, you haven't seen traumatized yet!" Tango crowed, the flame of his hair sparking brightly. "Just wait until I get all the hazards built in!"

Tanguish's laugh, always nervous, took on an even more noticeable nervous edge. Welsknight wondered if he was imagining play-testing the hazards -- possibly imagining all the new and interesting ways he could be injured in the process.

{He briefly wondered if Tanguish knew he was allowed to refuse to help. Maybe he should bring it up at some point in the future?}

"Well I hate to break it to you, Tanguish," Welsknight said instead, "but the last bit of exit is either an unfinished death drop, or a long minecart track uphill."

Tanguish groaned.

"We could always leave you here," Tango quipped, grinning. "You can keep your knives and be one of the game hazards. The dungeon wraith of Decked Out II!"

"And get torn apart by vex when your game reaches max clank?" Tanguish snorted derisively. "No thank you!"

"You're fast and sneaky! You'll be fine!"

"I'm not that fast and sneaky!"

Welsknight rolled his eyes at the pleasant bickering, but honestly found it kind of... Nice. It was nice that Tanguish felt relaxed enough to do more than just project fear and nervousness, even in spite of the busted ankle. He was slowly learning Tanguish had a dry wit and sarcasm that was fun to listen to -- probably fueled by his honestly uncanny memory. He was perceptive and tactful, and he, generally speaking, uses those traits for good.

It was admittedly, also very nice, to hear Tango talking like himself again. No anger, no self deprecation. There was only loud laughter, and the giddy variety of his voice, the bright tumble of his whole-hearted conversation. He didn't feel the need to put himself between Welsknight and Tanguish, as though his every thought were caught up in protecting someone.

It was... Nice.

Welsknight moved because it felt like it was time to. While Tango was mid-jibe, and Tanguish was mid-laughter, he scooped up the little helsmet back into his arms again. Tanguish squawked in startlement, which turned into babbled protest when Welsknight turned to Tango and grinned, "Race you to the top?"

"You're on!"

"Guys wait-- guys wait--!!"

Tanguish would never believe him, given the frantic screaming and clutching that happened when Welsknight spread his elytra, but flying with the little helsmet in his arms wasn't all that difficult. Sure, turns got a little dicey, and he had to account for the extra weight, but Wels was a decent flyer, and he kept up with Tango as they twisted through the Decked Out caverns towards the long slope up to the entrance. The pair of Hermits burst into Decked Out's main entryway, Tango howling with joy when they left the cramped tunnels for wide open space, and ultimately, sky. The whole of Hermitcraft sprawled out before them, a carpet of patchwork colors, guided by generation and the works of their hands. In his arms, Tanguish shivered, claws digging in to Welsknight's pauldrons, eyes wide with breathless fear. Welsknight hovered, opened his mouth to apologize, or try some kind of reassurance, when Tanguish leaned over to look down, and lost his fear with a long, awestruck exhalation.

"You guys see this all the time?" He asked, in a voice gone small with wonder.

Welsknight couldn't help the surge of pride. "Any time we want to fly."

Welsknight could have resumed his race with Tango. He knew where they were going. Neither of them had any healing potions ready {Tango wouldn't have asked for help if he had them, and Welsknight hadn't realized that was the kind of help needed -- he really needed to start asking more questions when he got pinged.} The easiest way to get them was the shopping district. Far ahead, looping through the clouds, he could see the bright yellow-red flicker of Tango weaving about with his elytra. But Tanguish was starting to relax in Welsknight's arms, watching the world go by with naked wonder, and it felt rude to shorten that joy by rushing through it. Welsknight knew what the unspooled world looked like as it rushed beneath his wings. He has grown accustomed to it, expectant of it, over the years. The awesomeness of the height, color, beauty... It hadn't completely dimmed, but it had taken on the aspect of the mundane. Tanguish had never seen it before, and his joy was infectious. The way he gasped when clouds parted to reveal glittering lakes, the distant fog of the horizon, the arc of light playing through clouds.

{He wasn't all that heavy anyway, Welsknight decided.}

He set his wings and glided, coasting on the wind, following the natural ups and downs of heated and cooled air. When Tanguish asked him what some distant build was, he tried his best to answer. When they finally came to the shopping district, he circled it, letting the slow spiral of gravity draw him back to ground again. Tanguish had gone quiet in his arms, soothed, maybe, by the journey's coming end. Welsknight landed lightly, and gave a puzzled frown when Tanguish didn't immediately try to wriggle free of his grasp. He had to tilt the little helsmet in his arms to see he was asleep.

{Oh...}

Something in Welsknight's chest swelled again; fondness, and the gentle appreciation of the trusted. It was ridiculous honestly. He and Tanguish could barely call each other friends. This strange warbling in his soul, like he'd just been gifted a well-guarded secret, shouldn't be welling up inside him.

{He shouldn't look at this sleeping helsmet, and feel grateful that, for once, he was trusted not to do harm.}

Welsknight swallowed thickly, trying to rein in strange, powerful emotions he wasn't entirely used to. He didn't know what to do, where to go, how best to proceed. He certainly didn't want to wake Tanguish up. Eventually, as gingerly as humanly possible, Welsknight knelt and then sat on the ground, resting tired arms and legs as best he could while Tanguish slept in his lap.

Tango found him eventually, whistling a tune as he dangled potions from one of the nearby shops in his hand. His brow first creased with concern when he saw them, then lit with a gentle smile when he realized what happened.

"Got you with the cat rules, huh?" Tango whispered, grinning.

"Cat rules?"

"Yeah! Once a cat falls asleep on your lap, you can't move it," Tango chuckled. "It's illegal."

"What do I do?"

"I think you're stuck there," Tango beamed, dropping the pair of potions by Welsknight's side. "Don't worry, he doesn't ever sit still long."

"I can't stay here all afternoon," Welsknight whispered, frowning. His frown deepened when Tango got back to his feet and started strolling away. "Tango where--? Tango I can't stay here! Tango! Tangotek!"

Tango snickered, waved coyly over his shoulder, and kept walking, leaving Welsknight to crouch in the sun-warmed grass while Tanguish slept. It was very hard to hold onto his annoyance. Tango left him alone with Tanguish. Tango trusted him alone with Tanguish.

Tanguish trusted him at all.

{It felt... Good... To be trusted again.}