Oddly familiar, comfortably numb

Yellow eyes still fixed at some faraway point in the sky, Corin unsheathes the large, gleaming greatsword on her back, and with one smooth motion sweeps her arm, the blade now suddenly a hair’s width away from his throat.

“For all that you did that led to him getting hurt, I hope the good you did for him can bring you some comfort in the end.”

Then Corin’s eyes gleam, the runes exposed on her throat glow, and she lifts the blade high up once more with an air of finality.

-Corin

He didn’t flinch at the blade. It was a talent or maybe it was just his lack of care. Not about Milton, oh he cared so much about Milton it made his charcoal heart ache.

He didn’t care about death.

He wouldn’t end up here of course. He couldn’t truly die. He was a glitch, a god, an error, a mistake. He’d be summoned and killed and summoned again for centuries and centuries more. A blade would do the trick. It was exceptionally sharp this one, he’d commend her on the care of it if it wasn’t at his neck.

Hero remained silent. Even as the blade swung up like an executioners axe. It would be clean and quick, Corin was good like that. Though it was a shame the wooden steps would stain. He hoped whoever built it wouldn’t mind.

He took a deep breath and stared out into the night sky. Hero began to count stars. It was better if he didn’t think about it. That’s what he learned, anyhow. Made it easier. Made it hurt less. He should be thankful, really. There were worse ways to go.

There’s a lot of stars out tonight.

Milton had never run so fast in his life.

could he teleport? of course, but he didn't even think of it. he didn't even care. the moment he saw the open book, when he realized corin was gone, it hit him so violently that he couldn't breathe.

"wait, mom, listen to-"

his eyes widened.

he stared at the sight in front of him. the sight of his mother ready to strike his father, like a predator preparing to pounce upon it's pray.

it wasn't a pretty sight, really. it was bittersweet.

hero looked so carefree, so distant. his eyes dull.

corin appeared as though she were a warrior, eyes never moving from the smaller man on the ground.

the moons light blanketed the two, swallowing up shadows and casting the scene in an eerie glow.

he charged.

he charged straight for corin, eyes wide with pain and grief and fury, he couldn't even think. he just- ran. and he shoved her. he shoved her to the floor so violently that he nearly fell over himself.

in that moment, any and all childishness inside of him withered away and died.

The feeling that flowed through her veins as she raised that sword to the sky was cold. It wasn’t a rage that boiled, instead it frosted over their veins, chilling her bones until everything was numb. Nothing remained. Except for her singular purpose.

This was not the first time she’d played executioner, after all, she knew what she was doing.

Sure, she’d be disappointed to see him go, white-eyes was entertaining, and rather good for Milton, but they had promised them his blood.

So the Guardian swung her jaws of death.

And was subsequently knocked off-course.

In a rush of instinct and muscle memory finely tuned from centuries of leaping from trees, they rolled, landing in a low crouch, blade still surely in hand.

The feeling burned now.

How dare someone interfere? How dare they get between the beast and her prey? How DARE THEY HOW DARE THEY HOW DARE-

And it all went quiet.

And she stared uncomprehendingly at her son.

It didn’t really feel like much. Was the blade that sharp? Mm, no, he just wasn't dead. Odd. Was Corin taking her time? What happened?

He blinked open his eyes which he didn’t remember closing. Odd. Hero shook his head to try and ground himself, he felt floaty again. He blinked a few more times before lifting his head to see the scene before him.

Milton to one side, Corin on the other. She still had her blade and there was an uncharacteristic glint in her eyes. A chill ran down his spine like frost. It wasn’t a good thing, was it? Mm, no, that’s bad.

Hero didn’t really clock what was happening. It was confusing. Did Milton run all the way up here? When? It must have happened in the seconds he had closed his eyes. He didn’t know why he did that, maybe he didn’t want to see the blade swing down.

That was never a nice sight.

Hero shook his head again and stood up, looking back and forth between the two. He wasn’t exactly sure what was going on. He didn’t speak, only tilting his head in their directions. Weird.

he was bleeding. bad.

there was a long scar that started at his forehead and ending at his chin, running through his eye and lip

he breathed heavily, staring at corin on the ground

"dont do it."

A single droplet of blood hit the earth, sinking into the soil.

Everything was quiet.

She stared at the gash.

That… She did that.

Hmm. That was not acceptable. He had called off the hunt, which, although irritating, meant that the blank-eyes was no longer her primary concern.

In a fluid motion, they sheathed the sword back into its scabbard and stood up to their full height.

Her gaze flitted once more to her prey, still exposed and weak upon the dirt. Hmph. Not a threat.

The Guardian approached her charge, unclipping a potion from her belt and bandages from her bag, handing it to him with a pointed chuff.

Then they turned and began scanning their surroundings. Someone needed to keep watch for threats while the fledgeling was injured, after all.

he didn't like how she was behaving

of course it was just instinct on her part, but it felt so unnatural to him. so forced.

he reach out to hero in an attempt to grab his hand, but plush ended up grabbing his arm instead. he needed the comfort.

he needed help. now. from anyone.

To be fair, he didn’t really know what was happening. It was all very fuzzy to him. All he knew is that one second his life was being threatened, credit where credit is due, a very polite attempt on his life. The next second however, his son was bleeding everywhere, clutching his arm for dear life.

Hero immediately scooped his kid up into his arms and warped away. He didn’t know where he ended up when he opened his eyes, the small house was unfamiliar to him. Quartz floors and mushroom mixed with dark oak walls were unimportant to him. But the house’s owner seemed to be out, so it was fine. Probably.

He gently placed Milton on the large bed and slammed open the nearest barrel, beginning to rummage through the shulkers within. He pulled out one labeled “Utilities” and popped it open. There were odds and ends in it, small bells and nametags, buckets and- There. Bandages.

Hero grabbed some fabric from within the shulker and wet it in the small cabin’s sink. He knelt before Milton and gently dabbed it over the large slice. He tried not to look at how much blood soaked the cloth.

Once a considerable amount had been cleaned up, Hero began to wrap the wound with the bandages. It would need to be changed frequently, even when he as he finished he could see fresh blood seeping through.

Hero did this in complete silence, never once meeting Milton’s eyes.

plush recognized it as nebs house immediately.

he sat in complete silence as hero wrapped the bandages around his face. it was oddly familiar. comfortably numb.

it wouldn't be the first time he was just a bit blind. and it'd suck ass perception wise, especially for someone who mainly used a bow.

and while it was hard to tell, he was crying. he was sobbing so, so silently.

and whenever hero got close, he'd reach out for him.

it was scary.

Back at the hill, The Guardian scans the area, eyes glinting from the moonlight. She is stone, an impassable wall in the face of her foes. They have a purpose, and they will fulfill it.

[what have I done]

Hearing a disturbance in the air behind her, they whirl around, sword held defensively, moving to place her body in front of her charge.

[the sword that I used to hurt him oh gods I hurt him]

Instead of the threat that they expected to see, they instead faced was the sudden absence of both the former prey and the fledgeling.

[I have done what I swore to never do]

Hmm. That seems unsafe. She needs to stay nearby to protect them, after all.

[I am an oathbreaker I have harmed my kin]

She takes a moment to sheathe her blade, and rubs the side of their face, shedding a few feathers.

That is of no matter, though, she can smell their blood on the wind, and if she can, others can as well, so speed is of the upmost importance.

[I am so sorry I am so sorry I am what they said I was]

The Guardian disappears into the night, making a direct path to one specific house.

It was hard. To see his son in pain and yet to not feel worthy enough to hurt him. It was his fault all of this had happened. From the kingdom to this wound, it was his fault.

Minutes passed by and Hero changed the bandages frequently. His hands were stained more and more red each time. Dried blood stuck under his fingernails. Hero pursed his lips, changing the blood soaked bandages again.

He wondered what Corin was doing. He couldn’t trust her anymore, he knew that. And it wasn’t even that she tried to kill him. It was that she hurt Milton. That was a line that no one could cross. Not even his ally. It was a shame, he was starting to like the odd forest dweller. But he was used to losing people.

Hero sighed and took a seat on the floor. He leaned against the row of cabinets. He hoped whoever lived here didn’t return anytime soon. His eyes scanned over the room and landed on a little white blob. It was hiding under the table by the window. Watching. Watching him. He stared at it for a moment and looked away. He didn’t know what it was. But he didn’t care to find out, really.

milton blinked a few times.

the silence was unbearable, but he knew hero didn't want to talk.

"im sorry.."

he was sorry. he was sorry for putting him through this mess. for getting him into something he wasn't supposed to.

he leaned over a little bit and turned his head, eyeing the white blob, before smiling.

"hey there lil guy. remember me?"

he turned back to hero after a moment, gesturing towards the blob

"dont worry bout him, he's a friend."

The Guardian is silently perched atop of Nebula’s cottage, watching the ground below like a hawk. She didn’t necessarily understand why the fledgeling chose to take their former prey into shelter, but she would protect them regardless.

[i understand why, hero didn’t hurt him slash him betray his trust]

Her face was composed, a determination pressed deep into their bones. A creature of scales, sinew, and teeth hellbent on the singular goal of watch and wait.

And as tears stream down that perfectly calm, motionless face, she never makes a sound.

[what good is a guardian who breaks what she protects?]

He knew Corin was there, of course. He knew a lot of things. For example, he knew that if Corin attempted to walk through that door, she wouldn’t make it past the hinges. He kept an ear out for any sounds of movement.

Hero didn’t respond to Milton either. Though he did watch as the little blob paused before hopping over to his son. It bounced onto the bed and into Milton’s lap, settling itself there. It mad a little chirping sound, content.

He raised an eyebrow at that, but made no comment. If it didn’t hurt Milton, the weird little blob could stay.

he pats the smal blob on the head, giving him a leetol bread crumb.

"dad...please."

he didn't look up at him.

"i know you're upset right now. i know you're mad at yourself. but please, please just say something."

his voice broke.

"anything."

he sighed a deep, deep sigh.

"for me. for us."

Yellow eyes still fixed at some faraway point in the sky, Corin unsheathes the large, gleaming greatsword on her back, and with one smooth motion sweeps her arm, the blade now suddenly a hair’s width away from his throat.

“For all that you did that led to him getting hurt, I hope the good you did for him can bring you some comfort in the end.”

Then Corin’s eyes gleam, the runes exposed on her throat glow, and she lifts the blade high up once more with an air of finality.

-Corin

He didn’t flinch at the blade. It was a talent or maybe it was just his lack of care. Not about Milton, oh he cared so much about Milton it made his charcoal heart ache.

He didn’t care about death.

He wouldn’t end up here of course. He couldn’t truly die. He was a glitch, a god, an error, a mistake. He’d be summoned and killed and summoned again for centuries and centuries more. A blade would do the trick. It was exceptionally sharp this one, he’d commend her on the care of it if it wasn’t at his neck.

Hero remained silent. Even as the blade swung up like an executioners axe. It would be clean and quick, Corin was good like that. Though it was a shame the wooden steps would stain. He hoped whoever built it wouldn’t mind.

He took a deep breath and stared out into the night sky. Hero began to count stars. It was better if he didn’t think about it. That’s what he learned, anyhow. Made it easier. Made it hurt less. He should be thankful, really. There were worse ways to go.

There’s a lot of stars out tonight.

Milton had never run so fast in his life.

could he teleport? of course, but he didn't even think of it. he didn't even care. the moment he saw the open book, when he realized corin was gone, it hit him so violently that he couldn't breathe.

"wait, mom, listen to-"

his eyes widened.

he stared at the sight in front of him. the sight of his mother ready to strike his father, like a predator preparing to pounce upon it's pray.

it wasn't a pretty sight, really. it was bittersweet.

hero looked so carefree, so distant. his eyes dull.

corin appeared as though she were a warrior, eyes never moving from the smaller man on the ground.

the moons light blanketed the two, swallowing up shadows and casting the scene in an eerie glow.

he charged.

he charged straight for corin, eyes wide with pain and grief and fury, he couldn't even think. he just- ran. and he shoved her. he shoved her to the floor so violently that he nearly fell over himself.

in that moment, any and all childishness inside of him withered away and died.

The feeling that flowed through her veins as she raised that sword to the sky was cold. It wasn’t a rage that boiled, instead it frosted over their veins, chilling her bones until everything was numb. Nothing remained. Except for her singular purpose.

This was not the first time she’d played executioner, after all, she knew what she was doing.

Sure, she’d be disappointed to see him go, white-eyes was entertaining, and rather good for Milton, but they had promised them his blood.

So the Guardian swung her jaws of death.

And was subsequently knocked off-course.

In a rush of instinct and muscle memory finely tuned from centuries of leaping from trees, they rolled, landing in a low crouch, blade still surely in hand.

The feeling burned now.

How dare someone interfere? How dare they get between the beast and her prey? How DARE THEY HOW DARE THEY HOW DARE-

And it all went quiet.

And she stared uncomprehendingly at her son.

It didn’t really feel like much. Was the blade that sharp? Mm, no, he just wasn't dead. Odd. Was Corin taking her time? What happened?

He blinked open his eyes which he didn’t remember closing. Odd. Hero shook his head to try and ground himself, he felt floaty again. He blinked a few more times before lifting his head to see the scene before him.

Milton to one side, Corin on the other. She still had her blade and there was an uncharacteristic glint in her eyes. A chill ran down his spine like frost. It wasn’t a good thing, was it? Mm, no, that’s bad.

Hero didn’t really clock what was happening. It was confusing. Did Milton run all the way up here? When? It must have happened in the seconds he had closed his eyes. He didn’t know why he did that, maybe he didn’t want to see the blade swing down.

That was never a nice sight.

Hero shook his head again and stood up, looking back and forth between the two. He wasn’t exactly sure what was going on. He didn’t speak, only tilting his head in their directions. Weird.

he was bleeding. bad.

there was a long scar that started at his forehead and ending at his chin, running through his eye and lip

he breathed heavily, staring at corin on the ground

"dont do it."

A single droplet of blood hit the earth, sinking into the soil.

Everything was quiet.

She stared at the gash.

That… She did that.

Hmm. That was not acceptable. He had called off the hunt, which, although irritating, meant that the blank-eyes was no longer her primary concern.

In a fluid motion, they sheathed the sword back into its scabbard and stood up to their full height.

Her gaze flitted once more to her prey, still exposed and weak upon the dirt. Hmph. Not a threat.

The Guardian approached her charge, unclipping a potion from her belt and bandages from her bag, handing it to him with a pointed chuff.

Then they turned and began scanning their surroundings. Someone needed to keep watch for threats while the fledgeling was injured, after all.

he didn't like how she was behaving

of course it was just instinct on her part, but it felt so unnatural to him. so forced.

he reach out to hero in an attempt to grab his hand, but plush ended up grabbing his arm instead. he needed the comfort.

he needed help. now. from anyone.

To be fair, he didn’t really know what was happening. It was all very fuzzy to him. All he knew is that one second his life was being threatened, credit where credit is due, a very polite attempt on his life. The next second however, his son was bleeding everywhere, clutching his arm for dear life.

Hero immediately scooped his kid up into his arms and warped away. He didn’t know where he ended up when he opened his eyes, the small house was unfamiliar to him. Quartz floors and mushroom mixed with dark oak walls were unimportant to him. But the house’s owner seemed to be out, so it was fine. Probably.

He gently placed Milton on the large bed and slammed open the nearest barrel, beginning to rummage through the shulkers within. He pulled out one labeled “Utilities” and popped it open. There were odds and ends in it, small bells and nametags, buckets and- There. Bandages.

Hero grabbed some fabric from within the shulker and wet it in the small cabin’s sink. He knelt before Milton and gently dabbed it over the large slice. He tried not to look at how much blood soaked the cloth.

Once a considerable amount had been cleaned up, Hero began to wrap the wound with the bandages. It would need to be changed frequently, even when he as he finished he could see fresh blood seeping through.

Hero did this in complete silence, never once meeting Milton’s eyes.

plush recognized it as nebs house immediately.

he sat in complete silence as hero wrapped the bandages around his face. it was oddly familiar. comfortably numb.

it wouldn't be the first time he was just a bit blind. and it'd suck ass perception wise, especially for someone who mainly used a bow.

and while it was hard to tell, he was crying. he was sobbing so, so silently.

and whenever hero got close, he'd reach out for him.

it was scary.

Back at the hill, The Guardian scans the area, eyes glinting from the moonlight. She is stone, an impassable wall in the face of her foes. They have a purpose, and they will fulfill it.

[what have I done]

Hearing a disturbance in the air behind her, they whirl around, sword held defensively, moving to place her body in front of her charge.

[the sword that I used to hurt him oh gods I hurt him]

Instead of the threat that they expected to see, they instead faced was the sudden absence of both the former prey and the fledgeling.

[I have done what I swore to never do]

Hmm. That seems unsafe. She needs to stay nearby to protect them, after all.

[I am an oathbreaker I have harmed my kin]

She takes a moment to sheathe her blade, and rubs the side of their face, shedding a few feathers.

That is of no matter, though, she can smell their blood on the wind, and if she can, others can as well, so speed is of the upmost importance.

[I am so sorry I am so sorry I am what they said I was]

The Guardian disappears into the night, making a direct path to one specific house.

It was hard. To see his son in pain and yet to not feel worthy enough to hurt him. It was his fault all of this had happened. From the kingdom to this wound, it was his fault.

Minutes passed by and Hero changed the bandages frequently. His hands were stained more and more red each time. Dried blood stuck under his fingernails. Hero pursed his lips, changing the blood soaked bandages again.

He wondered what Corin was doing. He couldn’t trust her anymore, he knew that. And it wasn’t even that she tried to kill him. It was that she hurt Milton. That was a line that no one could cross. Not even his ally. It was a shame, he was starting to like the odd forest dweller. But he was used to losing people.

Hero sighed and took a seat on the floor. He leaned against the row of cabinets. He hoped whoever lived here didn’t return anytime soon. His eyes scanned over the room and landed on a little white blob. It was hiding under the table by the window. Watching. Watching him. He stared at it for a moment and looked away. He didn’t know what it was. But he didn’t care to find out, really.

milton blinked a few times.

the silence was unbearable, but he knew hero didn't want to talk.

"im sorry.."

he was sorry. he was sorry for putting him through this mess. for getting him into something he wasn't supposed to.

he leaned over a little bit and turned his head, eyeing the white blob, before smiling.

"hey there lil guy. remember me?"

he turned back to hero after a moment, gesturing towards the blob

"dont worry bout him, he's a friend."

Yellow eyes still fixed at some faraway point in the sky, Corin unsheathes the large, gleaming greatsword on her back, and with one smooth motion sweeps her arm, the blade now suddenly a hair’s width away from his throat.

“For all that you did that led to him getting hurt, I hope the good you did for him can bring you some comfort in the end.”

Then Corin’s eyes gleam, the runes exposed on her throat glow, and she lifts the blade high up once more with an air of finality.

-Corin

He didn’t flinch at the blade. It was a talent or maybe it was just his lack of care. Not about Milton, oh he cared so much about Milton it made his charcoal heart ache.

He didn’t care about death.

He wouldn’t end up here of course. He couldn’t truly die. He was a glitch, a god, an error, a mistake. He’d be summoned and killed and summoned again for centuries and centuries more. A blade would do the trick. It was exceptionally sharp this one, he’d commend her on the care of it if it wasn’t at his neck.

Hero remained silent. Even as the blade swung up like an executioners axe. It would be clean and quick, Corin was good like that. Though it was a shame the wooden steps would stain. He hoped whoever built it wouldn’t mind.

He took a deep breath and stared out into the night sky. Hero began to count stars. It was better if he didn’t think about it. That’s what he learned, anyhow. Made it easier. Made it hurt less. He should be thankful, really. There were worse ways to go.

There’s a lot of stars out tonight.

Milton had never run so fast in his life.

could he teleport? of course, but he didn't even think of it. he didn't even care. the moment he saw the open book, when he realized corin was gone, it hit him so violently that he couldn't breathe.

"wait, mom, listen to-"

his eyes widened.

he stared at the sight in front of him. the sight of his mother ready to strike his father, like a predator preparing to pounce upon it's pray.

it wasn't a pretty sight, really. it was bittersweet.

hero looked so carefree, so distant. his eyes dull.

corin appeared as though she were a warrior, eyes never moving from the smaller man on the ground.

the moons light blanketed the two, swallowing up shadows and casting the scene in an eerie glow.

he charged.

he charged straight for corin, eyes wide with pain and grief and fury, he couldn't even think. he just- ran. and he shoved her. he shoved her to the floor so violently that he nearly fell over himself.

in that moment, any and all childishness inside of him withered away and died.

The feeling that flowed through her veins as she raised that sword to the sky was cold. It wasn’t a rage that boiled, instead it frosted over their veins, chilling her bones until everything was numb. Nothing remained. Except for her singular purpose.

This was not the first time she’d played executioner, after all, she knew what she was doing.

Sure, she’d be disappointed to see him go, white-eyes was entertaining, and rather good for Milton, but they had promised them his blood.

So the Guardian swung her jaws of death.

And was subsequently knocked off-course.

In a rush of instinct and muscle memory finely tuned from centuries of leaping from trees, they rolled, landing in a low crouch, blade still surely in hand.

The feeling burned now.

How dare someone interfere? How dare they get between the beast and her prey? How DARE THEY HOW DARE THEY HOW DARE-

And it all went quiet.

And she stared uncomprehendingly at her son.

It didn’t really feel like much. Was the blade that sharp? Mm, no, he just wasn't dead. Odd. Was Corin taking her time? What happened?

He blinked open his eyes which he didn’t remember closing. Odd. Hero shook his head to try and ground himself, he felt floaty again. He blinked a few more times before lifting his head to see the scene before him.

Milton to one side, Corin on the other. She still had her blade and there was an uncharacteristic glint in her eyes. A chill ran down his spine like frost. It wasn’t a good thing, was it? Mm, no, that’s bad.

Hero didn’t really clock what was happening. It was confusing. Did Milton run all the way up here? When? It must have happened in the seconds he had closed his eyes. He didn’t know why he did that, maybe he didn’t want to see the blade swing down.

That was never a nice sight.

Hero shook his head again and stood up, looking back and forth between the two. He wasn’t exactly sure what was going on. He didn’t speak, only tilting his head in their directions. Weird.

he was bleeding. bad.

there was a long scar that started at his forehead and ending at his chin, running through his eye and lip

he breathed heavily, staring at corin on the ground

"dont do it."

A single droplet of blood hit the earth, sinking into the soil.

Everything was quiet.

She stared at the gash.

That… She did that.

Hmm. That was not acceptable. He had called off the hunt, which, although irritating, meant that the blank-eyes was no longer her primary concern.

In a fluid motion, they sheathed the sword back into its scabbard and stood up to their full height.

Her gaze flitted once more to her prey, still exposed and weak upon the dirt. Hmph. Not a threat.

The Guardian approached her charge, unclipping a potion from her belt and bandages from her bag, handing it to him with a pointed chuff.

Then they turned and began scanning their surroundings. Someone needed to keep watch for threats while the fledgeling was injured, after all.

he didn't like how she was behaving

of course it was just instinct on her part, but it felt so unnatural to him. so forced.

he reach out to hero in an attempt to grab his hand, but plush ended up grabbing his arm instead. he needed the comfort.

he needed help. now. from anyone.

To be fair, he didn’t really know what was happening. It was all very fuzzy to him. All he knew is that one second his life was being threatened, credit where credit is due, a very polite attempt on his life. The next second however, his son was bleeding everywhere, clutching his arm for dear life.

Hero immediately scooped his kid up into his arms and warped away. He didn’t know where he ended up when he opened his eyes, the small house was unfamiliar to him. Quartz floors and mushroom mixed with dark oak walls were unimportant to him. But the house’s owner seemed to be out, so it was fine. Probably.

He gently placed Milton on the large bed and slammed open the nearest barrel, beginning to rummage through the shulkers within. He pulled out one labeled “Utilities” and popped it open. There were odds and ends in it, small bells and nametags, buckets and- There. Bandages.

Hero grabbed some fabric from within the shulker and wet it in the small cabin’s sink. He knelt before Milton and gently dabbed it over the large slice. He tried not to look at how much blood soaked the cloth.

Once a considerable amount had been cleaned up, Hero began to wrap the wound with the bandages. It would need to be changed frequently, even when he as he finished he could see fresh blood seeping through.

Hero did this in complete silence, never once meeting Milton’s eyes.

plush recognized it as nebs house immediately.

he sat in complete silence as hero wrapped the bandages around his face. it was oddly familiar. comfortably numb.

it wouldn't be the first time he was just a bit blind. and it'd suck ass perception wise, especially for someone who mainly used a bow.

and while it was hard to tell, he was crying. he was sobbing so, so silently.

and whenever hero got close, he'd reach out for him.

it was scary.

Yellow eyes still fixed at some faraway point in the sky, Corin unsheathes the large, gleaming greatsword on her back, and with one smooth motion sweeps her arm, the blade now suddenly a hair’s width away from his throat.

“For all that you did that led to him getting hurt, I hope the good you did for him can bring you some comfort in the end.”

Then Corin’s eyes gleam, the runes exposed on her throat glow, and she lifts the blade high up once more with an air of finality.

-Corin

He didn’t flinch at the blade. It was a talent or maybe it was just his lack of care. Not about Milton, oh he cared so much about Milton it made his charcoal heart ache.

He didn’t care about death.

He wouldn’t end up here of course. He couldn’t truly die. He was a glitch, a god, an error, a mistake. He’d be summoned and killed and summoned again for centuries and centuries more. A blade would do the trick. It was exceptionally sharp this one, he’d commend her on the care of it if it wasn’t at his neck.

Hero remained silent. Even as the blade swung up like an executioners axe. It would be clean and quick, Corin was good like that. Though it was a shame the wooden steps would stain. He hoped whoever built it wouldn’t mind.

He took a deep breath and stared out into the night sky. Hero began to count stars. It was better if he didn’t think about it. That’s what he learned, anyhow. Made it easier. Made it hurt less. He should be thankful, really. There were worse ways to go.

There’s a lot of stars out tonight.

Milton had never run so fast in his life.

could he teleport? of course, but he didn't even think of it. he didn't even care. the moment he saw the open book, when he realized corin was gone, it hit him so violently that he couldn't breathe.

"wait, mom, listen to-"

his eyes widened.

he stared at the sight in front of him. the sight of his mother ready to strike his father, like a predator preparing to pounce upon it's pray.

it wasn't a pretty sight, really. it was bittersweet.

hero looked so carefree, so distant. his eyes dull.

corin appeared as though she were a warrior, eyes never moving from the smaller man on the ground.

the moons light blanketed the two, swallowing up shadows and casting the scene in an eerie glow.

he charged.

he charged straight for corin, eyes wide with pain and grief and fury, he couldn't even think. he just- ran. and he shoved her. he shoved her to the floor so violently that he nearly fell over himself.

in that moment, any and all childishness inside of him withered away and died.

The feeling that flowed through her veins as she raised that sword to the sky was cold. It wasn’t a rage that boiled, instead it frosted over their veins, chilling her bones until everything was numb. Nothing remained. Except for her singular purpose.

This was not the first time she’d played executioner, after all, she knew what she was doing.

Sure, she’d be disappointed to see him go, white-eyes was entertaining, and rather good for Milton, but they had promised them his blood.

So the Guardian swung her jaws of death.

And was subsequently knocked off-course.

In a rush of instinct and muscle memory finely tuned from centuries of leaping from trees, they rolled, landing in a low crouch, blade still surely in hand.

The feeling burned now.

How dare someone interfere? How dare they get between the beast and her prey? How DARE THEY HOW DARE THEY HOW DARE-

And it all went quiet.

And she stared uncomprehendingly at her son.

It didn’t really feel like much. Was the blade that sharp? Mm, no, he just wasn't dead. Odd. Was Corin taking her time? What happened?

He blinked open his eyes which he didn’t remember closing. Odd. Hero shook his head to try and ground himself, he felt floaty again. He blinked a few more times before lifting his head to see the scene before him.

Milton to one side, Corin on the other. She still had her blade and there was an uncharacteristic glint in her eyes. A chill ran down his spine like frost. It wasn’t a good thing, was it? Mm, no, that’s bad.

Hero didn’t really clock what was happening. It was confusing. Did Milton run all the way up here? When? It must have happened in the seconds he had closed his eyes. He didn’t know why he did that, maybe he didn’t want to see the blade swing down.

That was never a nice sight.

Hero shook his head again and stood up, looking back and forth between the two. He wasn’t exactly sure what was going on. He didn’t speak, only tilting his head in their directions. Weird.

he was bleeding. bad.

there was a long scar that started at his forehead and ending at his chin, running through his eye and lip

he breathed heavily, staring at corin on the ground

"dont do it."

A single droplet of blood hit the earth, sinking into the soil.

Everything was quiet.

She stared at the gash.

That… She did that.

Hmm. That was not acceptable. He had called off the hunt, which, although irritating, meant that the blank-eyes was no longer her primary concern.

In a fluid motion, they sheathed the sword back into its scabbard and stood up to their full height.

Her gaze flitted once more to her prey, still exposed and weak upon the dirt. Hmph. Not a threat.

The Guardian approached her charge, unclipping a potion from her belt and bandages from her bag, handing it to him with a pointed chuff.

Then they turned and began scanning their surroundings. Someone needed to keep watch for threats while the fledgeling was injured, after all.

he didn't like how she was behaving

of course it was just instinct on her part, but it felt so unnatural to him. so forced.

he reach out to hero in an attempt to grab his hand, but plush ended up grabbing his arm instead. he needed the comfort.

he needed help. now. from anyone.

Yellow eyes still fixed at some faraway point in the sky, Corin unsheathes the large, gleaming greatsword on her back, and with one smooth motion sweeps her arm, the blade now suddenly a hair’s width away from his throat.

“For all that you did that led to him getting hurt, I hope the good you did for him can bring you some comfort in the end.”

Then Corin’s eyes gleam, the runes exposed on her throat glow, and she lifts the blade high up once more with an air of finality.

-Corin

He didn’t flinch at the blade. It was a talent or maybe it was just his lack of care. Not about Milton, oh he cared so much about Milton it made his charcoal heart ache.

He didn’t care about death.

He wouldn’t end up here of course. He couldn’t truly die. He was a glitch, a god, an error, a mistake. He’d be summoned and killed and summoned again for centuries and centuries more. A blade would do the trick. It was exceptionally sharp this one, he’d commend her on the care of it if it wasn’t at his neck.

Hero remained silent. Even as the blade swung up like an executioners axe. It would be clean and quick, Corin was good like that. Though it was a shame the wooden steps would stain. He hoped whoever built it wouldn’t mind.

He took a deep breath and stared out into the night sky. Hero began to count stars. It was better if he didn’t think about it. That’s what he learned, anyhow. Made it easier. Made it hurt less. He should be thankful, really. There were worse ways to go.

There’s a lot of stars out tonight.

Milton had never run so fast in his life.

could he teleport? of course, but he didn't even think of it. he didn't even care. the moment he saw the open book, when he realized corin was gone, it hit him so violently that he couldn't breathe.

"wait, mom, listen to-"

his eyes widened.

he stared at the sight in front of him. the sight of his mother ready to strike his father, like a predator preparing to pounce upon it's pray.

it wasn't a pretty sight, really. it was bittersweet.

hero looked so carefree, so distant. his eyes dull.

corin appeared as though she were a warrior, eyes never moving from the smaller man on the ground.

the moons light blanketed the two, swallowing up shadows and casting the scene in an eerie glow.

he charged.

he charged straight for corin, eyes wide with pain and grief and fury, he couldn't even think. he just- ran. and he shoved her. he shoved her to the floor so violently that he nearly fell over himself.

in that moment, any and all childishness inside of him withered away and died.

The feeling that flowed through her veins as she raised that sword to the sky was cold. It wasn’t a rage that boiled, instead it frosted over their veins, chilling her bones until everything was numb. Nothing remained. Except for her singular purpose.

This was not the first time she’d played executioner, after all, she knew what she was doing.

Sure, she’d be disappointed to see him go, white-eyes was entertaining, and rather good for Milton, but they had promised them his blood.

So the Guardian swung her jaws of death.

And was subsequently knocked off-course.

In a rush of instinct and muscle memory finely tuned from centuries of leaping from trees, they rolled, landing in a low crouch, blade still surely in hand.

The feeling burned now.

How dare someone interfere? How dare they get between the beast and her prey? How DARE THEY HOW DARE THEY HOW DARE-

And it all went quiet.

And she stared uncomprehendingly at her son.

It didn’t really feel like much. Was the blade that sharp? Mm, no, he just wasn't dead. Odd. Was Corin taking her time? What happened?

He blinked open his eyes which he didn’t remember closing. Odd. Hero shook his head to try and ground himself, he felt floaty again. He blinked a few more times before lifting his head to see the scene before him.

Milton to one side, Corin on the other. She still had her blade and there was an uncharacteristic glint in her eyes. A chill ran down his spine like frost. It wasn’t a good thing, was it? Mm, no, that’s bad.

Hero didn’t really clock what was happening. It was confusing. Did Milton run all the way up here? When? It must have happened in the seconds he had closed his eyes. He didn’t know why he did that, maybe he didn’t want to see the blade swing down.

That was never a nice sight.

Hero shook his head again and stood up, looking back and forth between the two. He wasn’t exactly sure what was going on. He didn’t speak, only tilting his head in their directions. Weird.

he was bleeding. bad.

there was a long scar that started at his forehead and ending at his chin, running through his eye and lip

he breathed heavily, staring at corin on the ground

"dont do it."

Yellow eyes still fixed at some faraway point in the sky, Corin unsheathes the large, gleaming greatsword on her back, and with one smooth motion sweeps her arm, the blade now suddenly a hair’s width away from his throat.

“For all that you did that led to him getting hurt, I hope the good you did for him can bring you some comfort in the end.”

Then Corin’s eyes gleam, the runes exposed on her throat glow, and she lifts the blade high up once more with an air of finality.

-Corin

He didn’t flinch at the blade. It was a talent or maybe it was just his lack of care. Not about Milton, oh he cared so much about Milton it made his charcoal heart ache.

He didn’t care about death.

He wouldn’t end up here of course. He couldn’t truly die. He was a glitch, a god, an error, a mistake. He’d be summoned and killed and summoned again for centuries and centuries more. A blade would do the trick. It was exceptionally sharp this one, he’d commend her on the care of it if it wasn’t at his neck.

Hero remained silent. Even as the blade swung up like an executioners axe. It would be clean and quick, Corin was good like that. Though it was a shame the wooden steps would stain. He hoped whoever built it wouldn’t mind.

He took a deep breath and stared out into the night sky. Hero began to count stars. It was better if he didn’t think about it. That’s what he learned, anyhow. Made it easier. Made it hurt less. He should be thankful, really. There were worse ways to go.

There’s a lot of stars out tonight.

#its time to grow up.#hero #corin #milton #in character #hbsmp

Milton had never run so fast in his life.

could he teleport? of course, but he didn't even think of it. he didn't even care. the moment he saw the open book, when he realized corin was gone, it hit him so violently that he couldn't breathe.

"wait, mom, listen to-"

his eyes widened.

he stared at the sight in front of him. the sight of his mother ready to strike his father, like a predator preparing to pounce upon it's pray.

it wasn't a pretty sight, really. it was bittersweet.

hero looked so carefree, so distant. his eyes dull.

corin appeared as though she were a warrior, eyes never moving from the smaller man on the ground.

the moons light blanketed the two, swallowing up shadows and casting the scene in an eerie glow.

he charged.

he charged straight for corin, eyes wide with pain and grief and fury, he couldn't even think. he just- ran. and he shoved her. he shoved her to the floor so violently that he nearly fell over himself.

in that moment, any and all childishness inside of him withered away and died.

A sudden feeling of dread filled the air. Milton felt as though plush was being watched, wouldn’t be the first or last time. If plush listened for footsteps they wouldn’t hear them. The air got colder as a being moved closer and closer to Milton.

A loud voice soon came as an aura surrounded plush.

“Greetings dear. Please turn around, I mean no harm” the spirits voice certainly didn’t sound friendly. It echoed and wavered, but was trustworthy.

a long, exaggerated groan escaped miltons lips as he turned around to face the being, bow in hand.

"look, I've dealt with evil entities before, and the vibes you're giving off just kinda suck major ass. what's the deal??"

It grinned, clasping it’s hands together

“Oh you’re more wonderful than I could have ever imagined. Please Milton, I’m not here to cause you any pain. I promise. My name is An, it’s so amazing to finally meet you”

"more wonderful than you could've imagined??? I'm not a fucking science project."

plush was. they didn't like thinking about it. they clutch the bow tighter. they wished dad was here.

"what's the deal, fucko??? i got berries to plant."

It snapped it’s fingers and the bow the gently placed on the ground away from Milton

“Forgive me for my intrusion, I just saw you at the forum and I had to come meet you in person. You’re energy is just so powerful and I see you have… Herobrine on your side. Your father right?”

He smiled and floated around plush, observing them.

he felt the anxiety in his stomach rising when his weapon disappeared. he simply tapped his necklace and got bigger. taller.

"yeah. hero's my dad."

he scowled as An observed him. he felt like a test subject all over again.

His eye seemed to shine when he got taller. He was not intimidated at all.

“Oh my. How did you do that young one? Ah! I was correct about Hero, I’ve met him before. Such a nice man”

It stopped observing plush, sensing the uncomfortableness.

"i dont think that's any of your fucking business, now is it."

milton began to slowly inch towards the bow, eyeing it every now and then.

“Hmm, well I suppose it is? I’m going to find out one way or another. I know a lot of things Milton. I can also grow taller too, as big as a galaxy. I am a galaxy”

He brought his hands up, a mix of purple, black and blue with stars all around were seeping up his forearm. It was like paint on his body.

"mhm. thats great buddy."

he was just a few steps from the bow now. just a few steps from security.

A sudden feeling of dread filled the air. Milton felt as though plush was being watched, wouldn’t be the first or last time. If plush listened for footsteps they wouldn’t hear them. The air got colder as a being moved closer and closer to Milton.

A loud voice soon came as an aura surrounded plush.

“Greetings dear. Please turn around, I mean no harm” the spirits voice certainly didn’t sound friendly. It echoed and wavered, but was trustworthy.

a long, exaggerated groan escaped miltons lips as he turned around to face the being, bow in hand.

"look, I've dealt with evil entities before, and the vibes you're giving off just kinda suck major ass. what's the deal??"

It grinned, clasping it’s hands together

“Oh you’re more wonderful than I could have ever imagined. Please Milton, I’m not here to cause you any pain. I promise. My name is An, it’s so amazing to finally meet you”

"more wonderful than you could've imagined??? I'm not a fucking science project."

plush was. they didn't like thinking about it. they clutch the bow tighter. they wished dad was here.

"what's the deal, fucko??? i got berries to plant."

It snapped it’s fingers and the bow the gently placed on the ground away from Milton

“Forgive me for my intrusion, I just saw you at the forum and I had to come meet you in person. You’re energy is just so powerful and I see you have… Herobrine on your side. Your father right?”

He smiled and floated around plush, observing them.

he felt the anxiety in his stomach rising when his weapon disappeared. he simply tapped his necklace and got bigger. taller.

"yeah. hero's my dad."

he scowled as An observed him. he felt like a test subject all over again.

His eye seemed to shine when he got taller. He was not intimidated at all.

“Oh my. How did you do that young one? Ah! I was correct about Hero, I’ve met him before. Such a nice man”

It stopped observing plush, sensing the uncomfortableness.

"i dont think that's any of your fucking business, now is it."

milton began to slowly inch towards the bow, eyeing it every now and then.

A sudden feeling of dread filled the air. Milton felt as though plush was being watched, wouldn’t be the first or last time. If plush listened for footsteps they wouldn’t hear them. The air got colder as a being moved closer and closer to Milton.

A loud voice soon came as an aura surrounded plush.

“Greetings dear. Please turn around, I mean no harm” the spirits voice certainly didn’t sound friendly. It echoed and wavered, but was trustworthy.

a long, exaggerated groan escaped miltons lips as he turned around to face the being, bow in hand.

"look, I've dealt with evil entities before, and the vibes you're giving off just kinda suck major ass. what's the deal??"

It grinned, clasping it’s hands together

“Oh you’re more wonderful than I could have ever imagined. Please Milton, I’m not here to cause you any pain. I promise. My name is An, it’s so amazing to finally meet you”

"more wonderful than you could've imagined??? I'm not a fucking science project."

plush was. they didn't like thinking about it. they clutch the bow tighter. they wished dad was here.

"what's the deal, fucko??? i got berries to plant."

It snapped it’s fingers and the bow the gently placed on the ground away from Milton

“Forgive me for my intrusion, I just saw you at the forum and I had to come meet you in person. You’re energy is just so powerful and I see you have… Herobrine on your side. Your father right?”

He smiled and floated around plush, observing them.

he felt the anxiety in his stomach rising when his weapon disappeared. he simply tapped his necklace and got bigger. taller.

"yeah. hero's my dad."

he scowled as An observed him. he felt like a test subject all over again.

A sudden feeling of dread filled the air. Milton felt as though plush was being watched, wouldn’t be the first or last time. If plush listened for footsteps they wouldn’t hear them. The air got colder as a being moved closer and closer to Milton.

A loud voice soon came as an aura surrounded plush.

“Greetings dear. Please turn around, I mean no harm” the spirits voice certainly didn’t sound friendly. It echoed and wavered, but was trustworthy.

a long, exaggerated groan escaped miltons lips as he turned around to face the being, bow in hand.

"look, I've dealt with evil entities before, and the vibes you're giving off just kinda suck major ass. what's the deal??"

It grinned, clasping it’s hands together

“Oh you’re more wonderful than I could have ever imagined. Please Milton, I’m not here to cause you any pain. I promise. My name is An, it’s so amazing to finally meet you”