#vampire!mumbo

—

Mumbo Jumbo

Mumbo dusted off his hands and looked around, a satisfied smile on his face. The vault was done. Perfect. Protected and private. With no way for Grian to get in without breaking blocks. Mumbo knew the trick to get in, of course, but he wasn't telling Grian.

He glanced up at the tinted glass panels in the ceiling. It allowed him to see the outside without the sunlight actually coming through and burning him.

He took a deep breath. He'd been going, going, going for a long time with next to no stopping. He was planning on taking a break as soon as the vault was done. And now it was.

He crossed the vault floor to the bed he'd set up for himself and glanced up at the tinted glass again.

Slow and careful, he reached under the collar and necktie of his suit and withdrew his talisman. A gift from Grian not long after he joined the server. The necklace was a sturdy iron chain with a red crystal charm. The crystal was smelted redstone, according to Grian. Although Mumbo had tried smelting redstone dust and it didn't actually do anything. So he chose not to ask. Grian worked in mysterious ways that no one could ever seem to figure out or replicate.

The talisman provided him protection from the sun. Let him walk around during the day indefinitely without fear of turning to ash. What once required a secret potion recipe that he'd have to constantly brew and replenish to make sure he never ran out of time no longer took that much effort.

If nothing else, he was indebted to Grian for life for that one.

Ready to sling it back on at a moment's notice, Mumbo took the talisman off. He braced, waiting for the sunlight to breach the tinted glass and fry him, giving him a sunburn if he couldn't get the talisman back on fast enough.

Nothing happened. He didn't start burning. His skin didn't begin to flake or turn to ash. He was fine.

"Tinted glass works," he noted to himself.

Quickly, he surrounded his bed with trapdoors for an extra layer of protection and proper coffin etiquette before climbing inside. He sent a quick message to Grian.

Time for my break. Tell the other Hermits I won't be active for a while. And I'll see you when I see you, I suppose.

He was just starting to settle in properly when Grian's reply came.

Enjoy your break, mate. We'll miss you. I'll pass the word on. See you when it's over.

Mumbo smiled. "I'll miss you too, bud," he said softly to himself before burrowing down. He crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes. Maybe he'd wake up in six months, maybe a year. Who knew? His alarm was set to ring a year and a day from now, to keep him from oversleeping. But he needed this time to recharge.

Sleep swept over him faster than he'd ever experienced before. A testament to his exhaustion.

And Mumbo sunk deep into unconsciousness.

—

Grian

Grian landed on top of Mumbo's vault, peering inside through the tinted glass panels in the ceiling.

Once-a-week he stopped by just to check on things. The vault was sealed so well that he hadn't even seen dust coating the tops of the storage chests yet.

Carefully, Grian plopped down on the roof and lounged back, letting the sun warm his wings. "Hey Mumbo," he greeted casually. Knowing his friend couldn't hear him. "Just wanted to stop by and say hello. Give you the weekly update. It's been a lot quieter since the Empires crew left. Sorry I was gone for a few weeks, by the way. Dunno if I apologized for that yet. Can't remember. It was nice to see them. Spend time with old friends. Wish you'd been here for it." Grian cleared his throat.

"Anyway. Tango's back in his hole. We can't get him out. He's determined to finish that game. Scar's tried everything. He occasionally manages to get Tango to leave for a brief excursion to look at new things, but it never lasts.

"Er... what else... Doc's perimeter is still big and empty. Well. Empty-ish. Who knows what he actually gets up to in a big square pit. Er... Scar's theme park is absolutely incredible. Making a lot of progress there. My rocks are still rocky. Impulse has taken on too many projects, as usual. Also, Cub and Cleo are both making museums to commemorate the season. It's becoming a funny little competition. It's going to be so much fun."

He took a deep breath and looked down at the coffin that hadn't moved in months. "Miss you, bud," he finished.

Pushing to his feet, he adjusted his wings and took off. Back across the bridge toward his own base. The towering rocks hung as they always did.

On the first building he'd made, the one with the Greek columns, he sat himself on his bed and typed out a message.

Whenever you're ready, Pearl.

After a moment, he heard the soft fluttering of wings. Pearl's lunar moth wings folded back, twitching lightly. "Hi," she greeted with her usual smile.

"Hello," Grian replied.

"Ready?"

Grian nodded.

"I brought more of Scar's cookies." She set a stack of them on the chest next to Grian's bed.

"Thanks," he replied.

"You don't have to keep doing this, you know. He'll be fine."

"You've never seen him wake up after this long asleep." Grian rolled up the sleeve of his jumper. "He's going to need it."

Pearl didn't assume her usual position standing next to where he sat, instead pausing near the chest. "G, I'm worried," she said.

"What for?"

She raised a brow sarcastically. "Grian. You know what you're like, compared to the rest of us."

"You don't want him to drink Watcher blood."

Pearl made a face. "I'm scared that if he does, nothing else will ever satisfy him. You're the only person on the server with blood that potent. I don't want him to get addicted."

Grian took a turn to raise a brow. "You think he's never had my blood before?"

"I'm not answering that," Pearl said decisively. "Because I don't want to know. Don't give me any context for that. Ever." She shook her head.

Grian stuck his arm out. "He'll need as much nutrients and magic as he can get to replenish when he wakes up. Might as well be from the most magic-rich blood on the server."

Pearl took a deep breath and sighed before opening another of Grian's haphazard chests and rifling through it for the equipment to draw his blood. "If he gets addicted, it's your fault and I don't want you complaining to me about it," she said, defeated and a little snappish.

"Yes ma'am," Grian replied with a smirk.

"Lean back and relax," Pearl muttered.

—

Mumbo Jumbo

When he opened his eyes, the coffin was dark. When he opened the coffin, the vault was dark. Stars shone through the tinted glass ceiling.

He pulled himself out of the coffin and stretched. His body was stiff as a board and his joints were sticky.

Once he was loosened up enough to walk, he pulled the talisman on and tucked it down the front of his shirt. The chain and crystal were frigid against his chest—and coming from a vampire who generated no body heat and was quite cold himself, that was saying a lot.

He waited only a few moments for the daylight to return. A little message pinging the server that BdoubleO100 had slept. Followed by a general message from Bdubs to someone else to stop breaking his bed. Mumbo chuckled. Some things never changed.

He checked his calendar. He'd been asleep for nearly a year.

No wonder his mouth was dry. But at least he beat his alarm.

He left his vault and looked across the bridge toward Grian's base. It had made quite a lot of progress, but was currently sitting silent.

Mumbo shook his shoulders, releasing his bat wings. He could have walked, but the wings needed the stretch too.

He glided from his vault to Grian's base. "G?" he called, looking around the Greek building. "Grian!" Where the floor of the building ended, a large cavern opened up. The enormous rock was hollow. "Grian, where are you?" He moved to go search the other rocks—only to yelp.

Pearl was rifling through one of Grian's open chests. Mumbo hadn't even noticed her there. "He's not here, mate," Pearl said. He realized she was organizing the chest, dressed in her cleaning lady overalls, her moth wings opening and closing slowly.

"What—what do you mean? What do you mean Grian's not here? How's he not here? Is he in the shopping district?"

"No. He's not on Hermitcraft at all. He had to go home."

Mumbo's eyebrows scrunched. "What do you mean? Hermitcraft is his home."

Pearl scoffed. "Then you don't know him as well as you think you do, mate," she muttered, finishing organizing the chest. She stood up. "When did you meet him? Before he came here?"

"Yeah. But... not by much."

She bounced her eyebrows but said nothing. Instead, she beckoned him with a wave to follow her. He did, trailing after her deeper into the hollow rock to where a shulker box sat, hidden in shadow. "Here," she said, pointing at it. "He stockpiled these for you. For when you woke up."

Curious, Mumbo opened the shulker box.

It was surrounded on all sides by packed ice. Unmelting.

Resting in the middle was ten bags of blood. A purple eye was stamped into the plastic of every single one.

Mumbo felt his fangs aching just at the sight of it. All of the Hermits were kind enough to donate some blood to him whenever he needed it—and he tried to stretch that time out as long as possible—but after nearly a year of being unconscious, his control was shaky.

He snatched one up, popped the spout open, and drank the whole thing down to its last drop. Clarity flooded his mind that he hadn't really realized had been foggy until the fog was gone.

"Okay. I can think now," he said. "What do you mean he's gone home?"

"Just surprised he never told you."

"What, that he's a Watcher?"

"No, I knew you knew that," Pearl retorted. "I'm surprised he never told you that home for him is still there. With the Watchers."

"But... he never leaves."

"That you've noticed," Pearl muttered under her breath, dripping with sarcasm. "Did you really think all his holidays were just him jaunting over to some friends' servers to lie on a beach or see what they've built?"

"... Yeah?"

"Then that's on you, buddy." Pearl dusted off the knees of her coveralls. "He goes home to the Watchers. He likes spending most of his time on Hermitcraft, but he has to go home sometimes."

"He told me he doesn't care much for them." Mumbo closed the shulker box, picked it up and put it away in his inventory.

"He doesn't. But he loves their stronghold. Their base, if you will." Pearl looked around. "He'll be back in a week or so. Try not to get addicted to his blood, yeah?"

"What do you mean?"

"He has the most magic-dense blood on the server. No one else here is as powerful as a Watcher. And that level of magic in someone's blood can help you get back to yourself nicely, but don't let your brain get dependent on it."

"Don't drink all his blood at once, is what you're saying," Mumbo said.

"Basically." She looked around. "Grian wasn't the only one stockpiling while you were gone. I have some for you too. So does Iskall and Impulse. I've got them all at my base. Grian was the only one who kept his here since your base is so close. Come with me. I'll pass them along."

"Oh. Yeah. Alright then."

—

Grian

A general ping went across the server. Mumbo has reached the following goal—

Grian didn't bother reading the rest. Mumbo was back!

He bolted, unfurling his wings and beating them at the air to take off. Liftoff for a human-sized creature with wings took a lot of strength and energy. Rockets were best as a way to take off and conserve energy, but sometimes he was fine just to use his wings.

He flew to Mumbo's base. Mumbo wasn't there. The achievement was something he must have done elsewhere.

Grian hurriedly put together a welcome-home party of decorations. Music, bottles o' enchanting, flowers, table and chairs. Possibly too many of his own heads on dripstone like a strange attempt at fairy lights.

And he waited.

After a while, Mumbo returned. "You're back! Yeah!" Grian screeched in excitement. Mumbo grinned, a little baffled, his fangs shining in the light of the bottles o' enchanting shattering into magic.

"Hey, I got back and you were the one gone!" Mumbo protested. "I had to get your delivery from Pearl."

"Oh she did give you the blood bags, then?"

"Yeah. I appreciated it."

Grian smiled, preening a little at the warmth in Mumbo's words. "I'm glad it could help."

"It did. Not quite as good chilled, but I appreciated it nonetheless."

"I mean, if you need some warm, fresh, all you have to do is ask."

Mumbo raised a brow. "You sure you're ready for that?" Playfulness colored his tone.

Grian laughed. "I'm fine. Last time I drew blood was months ago at this point and I recover faster than the average mortal. Since, y'know, I'm not mortal."

Mumbo chuckled at that. "Well, I, uh... I'd appreciate something fresh, actually."

"Just ask."

"Can I? Please?"

"Always."

In a blur of movement that only came with a vampire's speed, Grian felt the wind knocked out of him as he sunk just slightly into the honey-and-slime-block back of the vault door. His wings vanished as the impact started—Watcher power—to protect them from being shattered.

Mumbo towered over Grian, his eyes fully black and his fangs more prominent than they'd been a moment ago. "I know what you're like, Grian," Mumbo said, voice low. "Don't squirm."

Grian wasn't an Avian before he became a Watcher. His wings were Watcher wings, not Avian ones. He was a restless person, but he wasn't as flighty as an actual Avian. Still, the gleam in Mumbo's eye made a shiver pass down Grian's spine. "I'll try."

"It'll just hurt more if you can't hold still. You know that."

Before Grian could say anything, Mumbo bent down and hovered just over Grian's neck. His right hand—which had previously been pinning Grian's shoulder to the squishy, sticky blocks behind them—cupped Grian's jaw and tilted his head out of the way, stretching his neck a little more taut and freeing up some room for Mumbo to put his head.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Mmhmm."

A sharp, stabbing pain shot through Grian as Mumbo bit him. His body went rigid. But the pain passed quickly and he was able to relax. A flood of calm rushed over his systems from the natural sedative that coated Mumbo's fangs. Grian felt his eyes roll back a little, his head flopping almost to his opposite shoulder. His hand that had been freed from Mumbo's grip on his shoulder reached up and curled around the collar of Mumbo's suit and shirt. His fingertips brushed the cold metal of the talisman necklace.

Mumbo pressed a little closer, a quiet sigh escaping his nose. Grian's whole body rolled, seeking the contact. Mumbo's grip on Grian's other shoulder tightened, pushing the both of them more firmly against the honey and slime blocks. His other hand released Grian's jaw and slowly explored lower, coming to rest over Grian's pounding heart.

Mumbo's heart didn't beat. Grian couldn't feel Mumbo's exhilaration the same way Mumbo could feel Grian's. But Grian was a Watcher that could feed on any emotion from any sentient being less powerful than his kind. He drank in Mumbo's exhilaration as Mumbo drank his blood. It tasted like candy that fizzled and popped in the mouth. Zinging around as he took it in. Mumbo lost nothing by Grian feeding off him. But Grian could feel the pulling sensation of Mumbo sucking his blood.

His fist tightened around Mumbo's collar, pulling them closer. His other shoulder was still pinned to the wall by Mumbo, but his hand could move enough to cup Mumbo's hip and drag them together.

Mumbo hummed in contentment. His head tilted a little, drinking deeper. Grian couldn't stop the noise that left his throat. Not quite a moan, but easily mistaken for one. He pretended he didn't feel Mumbo smiling against the sensitive skin of his neck.

It was over as quickly as it had begun. The black of Mumbo's eyes had retreated, revealing the natural red. He'd always been good at feeding cleanly. All he did was lick a trace of blood off his lower lip and fangs, and the evidence that he'd drank at all was gone.

His grip on Grian's shoulder slowly eased off before vanishing. He took a step back. The lack of pressure against Grian made him blink in confusion for a moment before his mind caught up. The Watcher magic in his body fought off the sedative quickly, bringing him back to himself. Grian swallowed thickly. "Better?" he asked.

"Yeah. You alright? You, uh... went a little hazy there." Mumbo's left hand closed over the puncture wounds in the right side of Grian's neck. He could feel the holes closing already.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." He waved his hand dismissively. A flash of purple light and the wound in his neck was gone, like it had never been there to begin with. Not even a scar left behind. "I guess I just... forgot what that felt like."

Mumbo raised a brow. "Did you like it?"

A foggy sort of pleasure still clouded Grian's brain, lingering after the sedative was purged. "Obviously."

Mumbo smirked in self-satisfaction. "I could tell by that noise you made."