“I’m Shubble, and I’m,” Shubble pauses, as if she is trying to remember, instead of shoving down memories of the Quire. “I’m not sure how to describe where I’m from. I’m a gnome! I don’t know where the other gnomes are though. I lost them.”
Lizzie sighs. “I feel like that should be far less chipper in tone. But I suppose I can’t expect anything gloomy from you.”
Shubble shrugs. “I’m alive. Command doesn’t know where I am, and now all I need to worry about is you or one of the others on this server killing me.”
Lizzie looks like she is debating saying something, but she shakes her head. “I don’t think you need to worry too much about that. Scott, Jimmy, and I vouching for you means most of them will trust you.”
“Right.” Shubble nods. “So, who is the leader of the server?”
“We don’t have a leader. We agree to things, or don’t, as we please.” Lizzie mutters something under her breath that Shubble can’t quite catch, but it sounds something like “salmon loving…”
“So, I’m a gnome. You said they like plants, right?”
“Yep!” Lizzie says. “Bunch of garden bound gardeners if there ever were. You can grow things to your hearts content, here on the server.”
Shubble pauses. “Garden or garden? Can I meet a gnome?”
“Not Garden, no. You can’t meet a gnome, remember your story?” Lizzie sighs.
“It’s true, then. I’m the last ‘gnome.’” Shubble purses her lips, unsure of how she feels about being the lone survivor of another race, just like she’s now the lone survivor of the Beacons.
“The Server Wars have been unkind, as I’m sure you’ve learned by now.” Lizzie is looking at something Shubble can’t see, though she swiftly flips through a few eyes just to make sure. “The gnomes had the misfortune of being between the Quire and Redstone. Redstone advanced first, but the Quire are the ones who finished the job. None can live on that server now. A few bombs from one of the Houses, and now it will be centuries before any player can survive on their server. It is a pity; they had some of the most beautiful gardens outside of the Garden.” Lizzie sniffs. “Though, with the Garden as it is now, I don’t suppose that’s saying much of anything. Doubt you got to see the Garden in its glory.”
Shubble tries to imagine gardens of flowers and mushrooms stretching as far as she can see, chaotic, as living things perhaps should be. “I saw the Garden once.” She admits. “But it was night, and I couldn’t really stop to smell the roses.”
“Ah.” Lizzie says. “I should have known.”
“I went where Command sent me.” Shubble looks the Queen in the eye. “Command didn’t really give us a choice in the matter.”
Lizzie is the first to look away. “No, I suppose you weren’t.”
Shubble runs her fingers through the grass around them. “So, I get to make choices now. Like, where to build. What to build.” She looks around. “Rivendell is beautiful, but I doubt Scott wants me building here.”
“You still like mushrooms, right?” Lizzie asks, playing with something in her inventory.
“Yeah.” Shubble smiles. She loves flowers and mushrooms equally. Growing things can always make her smile. A memory tries to bubble up, one of Sarandiel showing her a sunflower field for the first time. Her smile slips a little. “Mushrooms are cool.”
“Scott can probably tell you with more precision, but there’s land to the east that hasn’t been claimed yet. You would be far enough away from most of us to be alone. It’s a forest, a very nice one.”
“Why didn’t you pick the forest.” Shubble asks impulsively.
Lizzie looks at her silently.
“Oh.” Shubble realizes. The forest would remind her of her court and missing husband, and the Lost Knight. The Forest of the Gloaming Court had been beautiful, a dark forest, lit by fireflies and glowing flowers. Shubble can remember it in its glory, just as she can remember how the trees looked, dripping blood, the glowing flowers trampled, and bright light from her Beacon shining over the trees. The memory of the destruction made her sad, and it wasn’t even her home. “It isn’t enough, but,” Shubble swallows. “Whenever I make a house, you are always welcome.”
Lizzie looks at her in silence for a while. Shubble sits, because there’s nothing more she could say that would begin to cover the history between the two of them.
“You have to be careful what you offer a fae.” Lizzie says finally. “I think we’re done for today, I’ll make sure to tell Scott you’re ready for contact with others.” She passes a device of some sort to Shubble. “Here’s your communicator. It’s how we non-angels communicate with others. Don’t loose it,” she says, with a bit of mischief in her eyes.
Shubble looks at the screen, trying to decipher the list of names before her. “Thank you, m’lady.”
“Don’t you dare.” Lizzie groans. “Just, don’t.”
“Of course,” Shubble pauses for just a second longer than necessary. “Lizzie.”
“Well, there might be hope for you yet, Shrub.”
“Shrub?” Shubble grins. “I like that.”
~~~~
As always, this is based off of Greenkangaroo's Cursed Beacon lore. Go read it if you haven't already! Also, they have a really, really cool snippet that I'm choosing to make canon for this timeline, so go find it! It will rip your heart out in the absolute best way.
Thoughts? Questions? Concerns? My inbox is open, and I'm more than happy to answer!
Will Shubble ever start building her empire? Ahhhhh, hopefully? Hang around and find out!
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As a Certified Sith Enjoyer™ with too much free space in his brain to think about companion gifts with, this one is the one that really gets me wanting to ramble- ironically not actually about Sith Opera, but about their orchestral performances. Brain took a step to the left with that one.
All of this is going to be one giant collection of headcanons, a good amount of which I enjoy weaving into some of my Sith's lore- but by no means something I try to carry as universal.
So! Rambling time. Given how focused Sith are on the individual, I like to think that a great deal of their art reflects that. From paintings that elevate an individual (be that individual a specific person or something like a family depicted as an individual entity), to plays that focus on the great deeds of individual Sith, I'd imagine most of their conventional work follows a similar trend.
I say all that to raise a specific idea; single person Sith orchestras, where the entire focus is on the Sith musician's ability to manipulate and play their instruments with the aid of the Force. A display not only of their power, but of their ~sophisticated taste,~ if they happen to care about the music itself.
The more instruments weaved into their performance the more musically and Force gifted the performer is said to be, with some bold individuals making constant attempts to break through whatever record for 'most instruments used in tandem by a single person without any screwups' currently being held.
Influential Sith families making a show of displaying the talent of their heads of house or children through these performances, some choosing to stick to a traditional solo performance while others decide they'd rather play alongside their siblings or partners- for whatever reason they deem fit. Maybe to showcase how well they work together, or in an attempt to let a rivalry play off itself and elevate their performances through that passion.
It being tradition to host, sponsor, or play for at least once such performance if you're a Sith of any high standing. Show off some wealth by sponsoring a gifted but lesser known Sith! Show off your very cool and sexy and fancy estate by hosting! Show the masses how powerful you are by playing in the performance yourself! Show off in general! Have some fun with it, and try not to get assassinated at the venue.
When Shubble quietly asks Scott and Jimmy about travel on the server, neither of them ask her why she doesn’t want to use her wings.
They take turns explaining the differences between horse and minecart, ender pearl and elytra. She can’t stop laughing when Jimmy tells her about pig riding, laughs until she is bent double, lungs aching. When she can finally speak again, she asks them if it is possible to walk.
After some discussion, Jimmy grins at tells her, most of the server is walkable, if she’s willing to take risks.
“Lizzie said there was a forest east of spawn, that was empty and unclaimed.” Shubble says. “I’ve always liked trees.”
Scott smiles. “Sounds like a lovely idea. You have your communicator; you can contact us if you run into anything. Once you’re ready, I can add you to the server group chat.”
Jimmy guides her as far as spawn before he heads off, saying something about Codfather duties.
Standing in the jungle clearing, Shubble spins, taking in all the details she hadn’t had the chance to really notice the day she arrived. The way the trees tower over her, looming giants, the vines trailing in tantalizing and dangerous ladders. She glances at the thrones, but doesn’t touch any of them, they aren’t hers. It takes her a bit to find the sun, with how tall all the trees are, but once she is certain she knows which direction is east, she starts walking that way.
It had been a long time since she saw a jungle, she muses. Her first solo assignment, perhaps? For a moment, the memories rise up and threaten to overwhelm her. The loud squawk of a parrot distracts her, and those thoughts dissipate.
The sounds came from a beautiful blue parrot, which is looking at her imperiously. She squints at it. Could she tame it? She digs in her inventory, and finds a few seeds, which she offers to the bird. It squints back at her and then hops forward, eating all the seeds and hopping back to its perch before she can do anything. She kneels and digs through the grass for more seeds, when she glances up, the parrot is still there to her surprise. Shubble holds out the seeds they found, and wonders why they’re being so insistent on trying to tame this parrot. Why should she bother trying? It clearly doesn’t like her. Command would never let them keep a pet.
A sharp tug on their earlobe brings them back to the present. The parrot is sitting on her shoulder, looking as concerned as a bird can be. Shubble rocks back on her heels, and sighs, reaching up to gently pet her new friend. “Sorry.” She says. “No more seeds.”
It doesn’t move from its perch as she continues to wander through the jungle. The jungle falls away to a river, and she can see the forest on the other side. It is beautiful, trees and hills, and so many flowers. It is nothing like the Quire, with its orderly forests and bright gleaming cities, and Shubble smiles. This place will be perfect.
She looks around, but she can’t see anyone around her. She really shouldn’t, but she doesn’t want to get wet right now. Her wings pop out, and with a mighty wing assisted leap she soars over the river. The second her feet touch the bank on the other side, she locks her wings away again, and whirls around, checking yet again to see if someone saw her. The only living thing she can see is her parrot, following her across the river, shrieking as if remonstrating her for leaving it behind.
Shubble wanders around the forest for a while, until she finds a group of hills that look right. She couldn’t begin to explain why they look right, because they just do. Here, she can try this building thing, here she can grow things. She shivers in excitement, and her locked away wings twitch.
Pulling up her communicator, she finds Scott’s contact.
I found something! I think I can build here for sure. She texts him, followed by her coordinates.
His return text is swift. Wonderful! I’ll be by soon, I have some things to help make your life a little easier.
Shubble works at digging out the hillside a little while she waits. Wrist deep in soil, she hears her parrot squawk and she whirls. Standing behind her is a fully armored vampire. She freezes, waiting for them to make the next move. Scott said that people knew she was here, she reminds herself. This is fine, her wings aren’t out, she doesn’t look like an angel. Her halo pulses gently, and she bites her lip. Hopefully it doesn’t look like a halo.
The vampire doesn’t say anything. They merely bob in acknowledgement of her notice, toss a half stack of potatoes her way, and then fly off on elytra.
Shubble puts the potatoes in her inventory, and sinks to the ground, trying to process what just happened. The parrot on her shoulder helps. She looks at it. “Thanks for the warning. Should I message Scott? Nahhhh, it’s fine! I can ask him when he gets here.”
She’s back up and trying to figure out how to decorate the small cave she dug into the side of the hill, when Scott arrives.
“You picked a very nice place Shubble!” He says, touching down softly.
Shubble throws her arms wide. “It’s so beautiful! And I actually get to make it better, I hope.”
“I’m sure you will.” Scott smiles at Shubble. “Here, I brought you a bed, and some other bits and bobs like a shovel. Half of the fun is making your own things, but that doesn’t mean Jimmy and I can’t give you a bit of a boost.”
Shubble grasps the shovel, finding comfort with the way the wood grain twists under her fingers. Neither of them mention how she had hardly used her bed in Jimmy’s house. She would ruffle the blankets to make it look slept in, and then curl up with a single blanket on the floor, the mattress on the bed just too soft the one time she had tried it. “Thanks! I had a visitor earlier, a vampire? I think?”
“Oh, that’s Count Fwhip of the Grimlands.” Scott nods. “He’s pretty nice.”
There’s not much Shubble can say to that, but she tucks that information back into the part of her brain which is telling her to find him and give him something. She doesn’t like feeling like she owes a vampire something, even if the potatoes he had given her unprompted had been very tasty.
“Well!” Scott says, looking around. “Looks like you have a lot you want to get done. I’ll leave you to it. If you have any questions, whatsoever, feel free to reach out, Jimmy, Lizzie, or I would be more than happy to help you, ok?”
Shubble nods. “Ok.” She won’t, she knows she won’t. But that’s ok. She can choose to do that now. She watches Scott leave with the rockets of elytra, and smiles. She still isn’t sure she made the right choice, she isn’t sure how she made choices, she blames Sarandiel, but freedom is looking beautiful.
~~~
Oh how this one fought me. I apologize for the rough state it might be in, because this is the result of an evening of sitting down and not letting myself get distracted. Harder than it sounds.
Once again, derived from Greenekangaroo's Cursed Beacon Lore!
Enjoy the fluff! Some more characters are introducing themselves, and Shubble might actually be trying this building thing! Yay for them!
