Winged

been doing a survivor playthrough where I have to be 2 scugs at once with the same keybinds for each, and I couldn't not do the gays. and I forgot I'd beaten gourm on this save file so the strays I found are grimmchild and ghost now DMS CREDITS:

Not the biggest fan of some of these but I’m working on getting into the habit of ignoring whether what I make lives up to my arbitrarily high standards for myself, so I included them anyway

The slight hum that came from Wifies as they walked made him want to crawl out of his skin. Parrot let himself shudder, just a little, at being so close to someone else. At being so close and not trying to fight them. 

  They were in an obsidian box- of course it was an obsidian box. The smooth black stone was everywhere- covering every surface and sucking up all the light. 

  Parrot wished he had his gear. His hands ached to be wrapped around the hilt of a sword, and he felt raw and vulnerable without the heavy weight of netherite armor. 

  What made it worse was Wifies. Parrot had asked him to come onto the server to help find whatever secret Spoke had, but he still didn’t trust Wifies. He didn’t know him- the dark violet eyes that seemed to always be watching yet always looking far away left a bad taste in his mouth. Parrot knew the feeling of being watched well, of course- Lifesteal was hardly a place that valued privacy- but at least there he knew how someone would attack him. 

  Here? With Wifies, in a pitch-black maze? Parrot was helpless and undefended against any attack Wifies might try on him. 

  Just because Wifies had only been polite, kind and loyal so far didn’t mean he wouldn’t stab Parrot in the back. Any help he gave would surely come with a price, and Parrot had to be careful. Cautious. 

  Or he would be betrayed again. 

  Parrot followed Wifies through the maze, one hand on the obsidian walls, one at his belt where the splash invisibility potions were tucked away. Wifies was speaking in his soft voice, but Parrot couldn’t focus. He felt tense, like something would go wrong…

  Footsteps, heavy with netherite, and murmurs that weren’t coming from Wifies. 

Parrot shoves Wifies against the wall, hissing at him to shut up and holding perfectly still. The voices paused for a moment, then one that was clearly Wemmbu said “that was a Parrot ‘shut up,’”

  Crap. 

  Wifies inched further down the passage, his hand grabbing Parrot’s and pulling him along. Parrot followed slowly, his ears perked, listening to netherite-clad footsteps gaining slowly on them. 

  And then Wemmbu and Zam were in front of them, covered in shimmering netherite armor with swords gleaming in their hands. A sick smile twisted on Zam’s face as Wemmbu spoke. 

  “Well well well, look what we have here.”

  Wemmbu’s eyes glittered dangerously, and Parrot sucked in a breath. He had no armor, no weapons, and here were two people with every reason to kill him right now. 

  Wifies’ hand was suddenly in Parrot’s, squeezing encouragingly, and Parrot stood up a little taller. 

  “Wemmbu, Zam. What’re you doing here?”

  His voice was steady as always, despite the pounding in his ears and how obviously he was shaking. 

  “I could ask you the same thing- why are you naked?”

  Wemmbu’s voice was half a laugh at the end, and Parrot was even more aware of how vulnerable he was right now. The feathers behind his ears bristled in annoyance. Wemmbu continued before he could respond;

  “Anyways, lets cut to the chase; give us the items.”

  Parrot tensed a little more. What did Wemmbu want with them?

  It was obvious- he wanted the secret. And if Wemmbu and Zam wanted the secret, he and Wifies were in trouble. 

  “We don’t have them,”

  Wifies’ response made Wemmbu’s gaze harden, and he hastily added, “We know where they are though- at the center of the maze. We’ll let you have them, just don’t kill us.”

  Parrot would’ve glared at Wifies if he wasn’t frozen. Giving Wemmbu and Zam the items? No way!

  “Well, take us to it then.”

  Wemmbu’s smile was back in place as he stepped up to walk next to Parrot as they followed Wifies, his netherite sword brushing against Parrot in a not-so-subtle threat. 

  The netherite on his feathers burned. It was all Parrot could do to keep his face straight- it burned like he was engulfed in flames. 

  The next moments passed by in a blur, but suddenly he and Wifies were in a tiny alcove in the nether, Wemmbu and Zam muttering nearby. Then they were flying, flying, flying, the hot air of the nether like a suffocating boulder. 

  Parrot just flew. He ignored Wifies’ concerns. Wifies would betray him. 

The fireworks burn in his hands, gunpowder finding its way into his lungs, piling up until he could suffocate from the grit tearing up the inside of his lungs. He has to keep going- there isn’t much time left, and if he doesn’t hurry his friend ally will be gone. 

  He releases another firework. His hands are shaking and the resulting explosion is bigger than normal, making him drop the firework and lost the momentum it should have given him, and it flies off ahead of his half-broken elytra. 

  Who knows whats happening to Wifies. All he knew was he’d woken up and Wifies was gone, and a message from Spoke said simply ‘1 hour.’

  And so he was flying. He had a feeling he knew where Spoke wanted him to meet, where Wifies surely was, but it was far. Reaching it in an hour was incredibly difficult, nigh impossible. 

  He would do it anyway. 

  The paper of the firework he fumbled out next leaves blood on his hands from the cuts it gives, and he mumbles out a ‘crap’ as he flicks the flint- tipped edges together to make a spark. He holds on tightly as the initial burst of gunpowder explodes, and the small trail of white steam that speeds him onwards pools out. He releases the firework as it begins to unravel, watches it fall for a moment. 

  He does it again. And again. And again. He passes through clouds and over terrain that he’d gasp at for its shear beauty if he had the spare breath and looked down. 

  Its a cold day, and the air is far colder up here with the winds blowing around him- they supported the elytra that let him traverse the skies, yes, but they were bitingly cold, and his skin felt as if wolves were trying to tear it apart. The gunpowder around him made it worse, his hands red and raw from letting his sloppy rocket explosions set the stray gunpowder on his hands into tiny, furious lightning. 

A glance at the clock tied precariously to his shoulder says he has 45 minutes left- far less time than he needs. He wants to spam the fireworks in rapid succession, mimicking the erratic way Spoke flies- but his hands are cold and raw and would only drop most of the rockets, and he doesn’t have enough to do it consistently enough to be worth it, even if his hands were in perfect condition. 

  The only noise in the sky is the popping of gunpowder and the wind- so loud it nearly drowns out the first, wild and violent and hungry. It can’t block out the thoughts, though. Whispers seem to fill the air around him, shaking their invisible heads at his sloppy rockets, reminding him how he won’t get there in time, how Wifies will be gone or dead or… different. 

  The thought that Wifies wouldn’t want to be his ally anymore brings a pang of sadness and fear he wasn’t expecting, which makes it all the worse. He curses his heart, even as it makes him fly faster. 

  He’s too far down. He’s tied himself to someone else, to someone that would surely destroy him- the very thing he’d promised himself he wouldn’t do. Wifies was going to betray him- surely it would come soon, wouldn’t it? Wifies had tried to build it further in the prison, and only then had he realized he was too far gone, too secure with Wifies.

  That wasn’t safe. He’d brought Wifies along to his attempt at a safe haven in the end, yes, but he’d kept his distance. As if avoiding his ally would make the thread that tied him firmly around Wifies grow looser. It hadn’t worked, and before long he’d found himself as close to Wifies as before he’d tried to stop. 

  30 minutes. The sky was darkening ever so slightly, and off to his left reds and pinks threw themselves across the clouds, magnificent and sprawling and bright. They looked like the blood he’d spilled, and the thought made him want to puke. 

  He hated fighting. Hated how easy it was to attack, to harm, even if he wasn’t very good at it. He hated the rush it gave him, urging him deeper into the fray until the wounds that would surely befall him made him retreat. 

  Most of all, he hated the memories it brought, especially those that came from fighting with Wifies. They knew what the other would do without having to say it, always in the right place. It was horrible. He’d  had felt that before, of course- most teammates came to anticipate each other’s movements. 

  He’d only felt that level of connection with one other person, though. The thought made him shudder, made him close his eyes for a moment and imagine what it’d be like when Wifies betrayed him like he’d betrayed him before. 

  Wifies didn’t seem like the type to make it as big and dramatic as that had been, but somehow that made it worse. Wifies would find a way that hurt him more deeply than anything before- that he was sure of. It was a thorn that dug deeper with every matching smile, every gentle nudge and every brief second his hand was held, every silent reassurance. It was in far too deep to pull out, far too sharp to ignore. 

  20 minutes. The sky is darker, the clouds more purple than red, yet the sun still manages to sparkle in his eyes, laughing at the little dot speeding through the sky. 

  Silly. Silly fool. The whispers are back, and they laugh around him, a kind of dance meant to grow thorns out of the ground and claw at his skin until he falls through the patchwork sky and into the hungry brambles below. 

  He flies on. A firework. Another. One more, timed to swoop him up where the air was thinner and the fireworks would propel him faster. The elytra creaks, but he ignores it, focusing only on following the compass in his mind that says he won’t be soon enough. 

  15. It feels like he’s been flying for days, unable to see the ground anymore, one with the sky and the air again. For a moment, he almost forgets, almost enjoys it- but he doesn’t have time for that. 

  On and on the sky stretches, clear of anything but the clouds and the fast- fading light. His hands feel like they’ve been burning, and they have the red marks to show it. His fingers are slow and clumsy with the paper of his rockets, each one taking longer and longer to light. His despair grows as each second ticks by on the clock. 

  10 minutes. His eyes hurt. There is gunpowder on his face, in his hair, in his lungs- he is a paper husk filled with it, ready to explode at the slightest touch. He flies on, knowing he’s too late, praying he’ll make it. 

  5. He doesn’t think anymore, focused only on the horizon, the low hum of ‘Wifies, Wifies, Wifies’ the only sounds in his mind. Too late, too late, too late. 

  He is 1 minute past Spoke’s deadline when the broken, crumbling structure comes into view. He doesn’t know how its here- probably a prank played by someone, though he couldn’t imagine who- but its been here for a long time. Both he and Spoke know about it. 

  He lands on the cracking blackstone, the letters on its sides almost impossible to make out anymore, though he could draw them in his sleep. M. O. B. in bright white against the blackstone, carefully carved and knife- sharp. It had so many memories, this building that was never meant to be here. 

  Spoke is easy to spot- standing on the far edge and looking down at the ground so far below them. He walks over, slowly, sword out and chestplate on, ready for a fight. Spoke surely knows he’s here, but he doesn’t turn. 

  “Hey Parrot.”

  His name makes him jump a little. He doesn’t use it much anymore. Why should he get a name? 

  The sound of it from Spoke’s mouth puts a bad taste in his. It was familiar, a sound that once would have comforted him. He wasn’t a stupid little bird anymore. He knew that behind those white eyes and blinding smile was a man who killed and trapped and betrayed for the fun of it- insane and broken and cruel. 

  Spoke turned, his usual grin spread wide across his face. Parrot hated him for it. How dare he smile- after everything he’d done? He shouldn’t get to smile. 

  “Spoke.”

  The word is forced out from between his clenched teeth, and he glares at the man it belongs to. Spoke does a little bow, grinning more widely. Parrot could kill him for that alone.

  “C’mon, only that for your old friend?”

  Spoke pouts a little, as if nothing ever happened between them and they’re back on Lifesteal, running around after whatever crazy idea they’d thought up now. Parrot’s free hand becomes a fist, and his knuckles whiten around the hilt lf his sword. 

  “Where. Is Wifies.”

  It’s lower than he normally talks- full of rage for the man who merely grins more widely at the question, bigger than any smile has any right to be.

  Spoke chuckles, just a little, and suddenly there is a pair of dice in his hand- black as the void, and shining like it, with a shimmer of purple at the edges. 

  “Why don’t we find out?”

  Parrot knows it’s a game. Its a ploy and Spoke will drag him along it until he’s at the end, and the things he’s lost outweigh whatever useless thing Spoke will present to him. 

  “I’m not playing another one of your sick games, Spoke. Now tell me where Wifies is.”

  Spoke looks comically disappointed for a moment, then he shrugs. 

  “He’s at your base.”

  Parrot snorts. 

  “No, really, go look! He’ll be there.”

  He can’t tell what Spoke’s voice is- sarcastic, sincere, joking, sick and insane- probably all of the above. 

  The grin is back on Spoke’s face.