Tsippi - Probably Trans But Who Cares.

MAKE IT WILD

would love to read a fic from an outside perspective in 3rd life being concerned for grian and thinking he has like stockholm syndrome and that he's being held hostage and then everyone just realises oh they're actually in love and they're cute together and loving

choose your (secret) fighter

There is a weight to Skizz that Grian simply doesn't have.

The first time they fly together- he and Skizz, showing the new guy the skies above their ever-changing homeland- Grian can feel it. It's not just in the wings- he'd known well enough to expect the three sets, getting consecutively smaller down Skizz's back. From one angle they're just as white as any other angel Grian has met in the multiverse.

Yet they don't stay that way.

As light and shadow play across Skizz's wings they flash in colors Grian isn't sure even Scar could name, there and gone in less than a breath. It's a display, then it's camouflage, then it's just white feathers.

Then there's the sensation.

It's like- the air itself becomes solid around Skizz, a piece of armor. He doesn't let the wind carry him, rather he drags the wind, creating an updraft that Grian is more than happy to bounce around on with outraged laughter as the angel cackles below him, doing loops to send his smaller companion higher.

When their flight concludes Grian lands gently, with hardly a breath.

Skizz lands like he is the last locking piece the earth was forgetting, and when his feet touch the rock there's the barest little tremor as if something immense has come to rest.

-

Grian knows, of course, they all KNOW. Tango had been in those ancient wars, as well, and Etho and Doc- well.

Yet with Skizz it's- hard to remember, in a way it isn't hard to remember with Doc or Tango or even Impulse, cheerful as he is. Occasionally, there's a slip. A Moment. A flash in his eyes that's a bit too red, a word that comes out a touch too rough, a swing of a sword that bites through a post instead of just into it.

Skizz- he doesn't have those reminders. It sometimes surprises whoever might be around when the wings appear, normally just the two great primaries, far larger in span than Grian's and more flexible besides (since he's not, as Grian had taken pains to point out, ACTUALLY an avian, so it's not like his wings need to function scientifically; they're more there because angels fly and angels fly because they have wings, done and dusted.)

There's always a moment. Oh, that's right. Skizz has wings. Skizz is an angel. Skizz once powered the God Beacons in the early server wars, a living battery that kept the Holy on their crusade until the first great Crashes brought about the Dark.

Skizz is older than their server, than redstone, than time.

Skizz knows Impulse's full, true name, and Impulse has seen Skizz with all of his Eyes open.

Oh, that's right.

Skizz is something more.

-

Skizz doesn't make it hard to remember on purpose, any more than Impulse or Tango or Doc make it easy to remember on purpose. He just is what he is- goofy, excitable, ready to lend a hand or a suggestion or just be there as a silent warmth on which you can lean and cry.

That's why it's so jarring when the zombie horde happens.

It's a combination of things- the day has just wound down to night, Scar and Grian are near a village, everyone else has gone to bed and Scar just needs one more poppy for the red dye for his new tents. Easy.

Until there's fifteen zombies pouring out of the spaces between the houses, groaning and reaching, mouths open and eyes- where applicable- vacant.

It's a run and gun scenario if Grian ever saw one and that's what he's doing, half-hauling Scar along, his larger companion firing with that frighteningly accurate bow even as he's yelping in alarm.

Still there's too many, and their respawns are so far, and damn it one stupid poppy-

There's a sound that's an absence of sound.

Grian will realize later that it was a concentrated sonic boom, the sound barrier shattering and then coming together again in a single moment as a whitehot streak comes down from the sky.

This time Skizz does not land like a locking piece of earth.

This time Skizz lands like the end of all things, like the cold iron of space that fills the void between stars, like an angel who was once so feared that his name became a prayer and a curse and a plea until he couldn't bear the sound of it and begged his only friend to give him another.

The zombie he landed on is less than ash.

The three who had been closest are bisected laterally, their top halves burning into nothing and their bottom halves becoming moist slag on the ground.

Scar has already covered his eyes but Grian can see the halo, a writhing spike of golden fire that screams as it circles Skizz's head, its points blurred to a single singing line daring anything to come within reach.

Oh, Grian thinks to himself, not all of the scars are scars.

Some of them are Eyes.

Then he closes his own eyes, behind which he sees nothing but spots as he hears the sound of zombies dying a second time, though presumably it is their first death by holy fire.

-

"So that was. Overkill."

"You think?" Scar wheezes. Skizz laughs awkwardly as he helps the other man up, offering a regen potion. "Sorry, buddy. I was coming back from the mangrove farm and I looked down and- well. Some habits die hard."

Grian could say something. Could gently goad Skizz into talking more, do that thing he is so very good at doing.

Only Grian, despite what some might say, does know when to let the sleeping dog lie. So he only says, "How did you not break your face?" and laugh at the appropriate time when Skizz says with that lopsided grin, his eyes still shining a little too brightly, "Practice, G. Practice!"

-

No one on the Hermitcraft server is a clueless innocent. There are skeletons in every closet and that's part and parcel of belonging- there is no perfection here.

Like Cleo's state of perpetual paused decay, like Gem's refusal to be far from water long, like Doc's long hours and Etho's red stained fingers, Mumbo's sudden quick jerks towards a voice only he can hear and Cub's careful symmetry, they are all of them followed by stories and ghosts.

If Skizz's ghosts howl like lost souls, well.

Grian figures his friend has come to the right place, like Impulse all those years ago.

There's plenty of sky for them and their demons- the kind that don't wait for them patiently to roost.

Hey y'all. It's International Holocaust Awareness day Both of these books changed me. Consider reading them or please share for someone else who might. It's never a bad thing to learn more.

Inside the Gas Chambers: Eight Months in the Sonderkommando of Auschwitz by Slomo Venezia This is one of the only books I've found that touches on the living conditions and viewpoint of a Jew from Greece. Reading it, the author felt like a friend. It was horrifying.

Nazi Doctors: Medical Killing and the Psychology of Genocide this book explained people were taught to completely separate Jews from being human in people's minds in the years leading up to the Holocaust- especially in the medical field. It has interviews with some of the doctors who did these things. The site for the books also has an archive of images, films, objects, publications, recorded sounds and documents. You can find information on many communities. Thank you

I want to try so many little hobbies. Candle making, soap making, basket weaving, wood carving, book binding, baking, weaving, I want to try them all.

Since you take asks about families as well let me talk about how much I love love love! The Clockers

Limited life is my Favourite season, all the teams are great but there's something about the Clockers, about how seamlessly they adapt to a family dynamic (Etho not included in this rant)

Just Cleo constantly checking on Scar and Bdubs after Lim life to make sure their okay even though she knows they're fully grown adults and can look after themselves but Scar and Bdubs keep coming to them when they have nightmares or are having a bad day.

Also Cleo bragging to people outside of the server about how great their sons are, Bdubs is a Judge now and Scars got a Zoo! Not only that but Scars a winner! Their baby won a life series! Even if he did kill her their still so proud of him.

Scar and Bdubs always make sure there's space in their bases for the other to stay over if they want to. They host family dinners (sometimes including Etho but more often then not he's not invited) and always are excited to tell Cleo what they've been up to.

If something is planned on family dinner night they all cancel sure their on a server together but when do you really get to just sit and eat with your family?

Bdubs and Scar definitely acknowledge that Cleos is also a winner even if Bdubs wasn't a part of that game.

The non-lifer Hermits are confused on where this dynamic came from, like they go off for a few weeks to play their death games and come back a fully formed family, they get used to it quickly though.

*sniff… sniff*

Found family… my beloved… clockers…

-🍫

That’s adorable! Thank you so much for drawing them for me!

Hello! Would I be allowed to ask for a meangills doodle?

hello dear fella! Sorry for the wait, I had like, 3 other drawings to make, but here's the mean gills!!

They're planning Martyn's birthday party

Under the cut is a bonus mean gills doodle I did a while back :)

They're eeping

:D !!

It’s gonna look awesome!!

Gonna wear eyeliner tomorrow

so embarrassing to have a favorite character honestly. like yes that's my specialest guy 🙄 yes i have 200 photos of him saved 😑 if i don't look at him or hear him talk every 2 minutes i'll start killing the hostages 😕 i think about him every day. because he's my favorite. whatever