#beetlejoest

[loveiy-mae]

Sketch I did that was supposed to be day 4, until I did a bigger one. I really like this tho

[dmwrites]

Gem wasn’t sure how she’d been roped into this, but she was standing outside, at night, with a flashlight and a hoodie from Pearl over her dress. Grian, Scar, and Impulse were gathered around a map as she approached the bridge between Grian and Mumbo’s bases.

“Ah, there’s our other G!” Grian said, turning when he heard her footsteps and waving Gem over.

“Guys, what on earth are we doing? Old houses and buildings are one thing, but Hermitcraft? Nothing here was built over two years ago! What kind of ghosts could you possibly think exist here?”

“I don’t know, but there is some serious evidence that there is a ghost on this server.” Impulse said seriously. “We have freezing temperatures in some places-”

“What, like on top of mountains? Or in ice biomes?” Gem scoffed.

Impulse gave her a withering look and continued. “Scar swears he’s seen ghost orbs-”

“I saw them with my own two eyes!” Scar said.

“I thought you could only see them through cameras?” Gem asked.

“And, most importantly, we have a witness.” Impulse said proudly.

“A witness?” Gem asked.

“With bottled proof of this ghost’s existence.” Impulse continued proudly.

“If this witness has actual, real proof that ghosts exist, this could be groundbreaking for the world of ghost hunting.” Grian said, zipping up his backpack. “Okay, let’s go! Lead the way to the witness, Impulse!”

——

The second team GIGS landed in the hole in the ground, Grian made his thoughts known.

“Zedaph is our ghost witness? Impulse, please, you’re supposed to be the brains here. It’s not that I don’t like Zed, but he’s kind of…”

“How do we know he hasn’t been sniffing his test tubes as a zedvancement and hallucinated this all up?” Scar finished the sentence for him.

“Just wait and see.” Impulse replied.

Zedaph came out of a side tunnel moments later, holding a lantern in one hand and a small jar of fluorescent green liquid in the other. He was wearing a frankly horrifying dress (or just a really long shirt) that consisted of stitched-together clothing of all the other hermits.

“Hello, hello!” Zed called to them. “If it’s ghosts you’re looking for, I’ve got the spooks!”

“Zed, what on earth are you wearing?” Gem asked.

“Oh, this is my Halloween costume! I’m all the hermits, in a horrible amalgamation of cloth!”

“Well, he’s got the horrible part down pat.” Grian muttered to Scar.

Zed didn’t seem to hear the comment, as he looked at the four ghost hunters, counting them two times over.

“My friends, aren’t you missing someone?” Zed asked. “Where is the ‘S’ in GIGGS?”

“Skizz isn’t whitelisted on this server, duh.” Scar replied.

Zed grinned, and pulled a square-shaped item from his inventory. “Well, lucky for you, I have him right here on this i-pa- hi- hi-pad. A hi-pad, yes, that’s what this is.”

“Hi there, friends! Who’s ready to hunt some Hermitcraft ghost ass!” Skizz exclaimed from the screen, waving at his friends.

“Skizz!” Grian, Gem, and Scar exclaimed.

“Now that you’ve all assembled, I can tell you my spooky tale.” Zedaph said mysteriously, handing the hi-pad to Impulse. He pulled a campfire out of his inventory and set it down on the ground between them. “It was a dark and stormy night. I was up late, finishing up wiring my newest zedvancement trophy display. I came out to stand right in this very spot, on this ledge, looking over my hole, when something flew past my face!”

Gem gasped as Zed leapt forward, wiggling his fingers at his audience. Grian rolled his eyes. Scar was looking at the dangling animals, clearly not paying attention.

“It was glowing green, and this thing fell directly into the water feature around my bed!” Zed continued, pointing down into the hole, where his bed was. Around the bed were small streams of water, clearly so Zed wouldn’t take fall damage getting down. “I, of course, scrambled to get a lead, thinking it must be dangled at once.”

“I don’t like that your first thought when seeing anything is ‘can I wrap it up in rope and dangle it’, Zed. I would hate to psychoanalyze you.” Grian said.

“But when I got down there,” Zed continued, still acting like he didn’t hear Grian’s comments, “the lead went right through it! It was translucent, clearly a ghost! A green ghost of a man covered in chains! He gave me such a fright, speaking to me with a frankly grating American accent about pinball machines and other odd things. And then he left, floating up into the air and away! And all that was left behind was… this mysterious ghost substance.” Zed finished his story, holding out the bottle of glowing green liquid.

“Mysterious ghost substance?” Impulse asked.

Skizz gasped. “Dude, maybe that’s like the ghost’s sweat, or his p-”

Impulse muted him before he could finish.

“Scar, I dare you to drink that.” Grian said, pointing at the glass.

“Okay.” Scar said, and took the glass from Zed’s hand, popped the cork, and downed the whole thing in one gulp.

“SCAR!” Grian, Impulse, Gem, and Zed cried.

“Grian, why did you dare him to drink it?” Gem asked, smacking Grian’s arm.

“I didn’t think he actually would do it!” Grian cried.

“Don’t lie, you knew he would.” Impulse said, shaking his head. “Oh, sorry Skizz, did you want to say something?” He unmuted Skizz again.

“Is Scar okay?” Skizz cried. “And also, what does it taste like?”

They all looked to Scar, who was smacking his lips thoughtfully. He looked up at all of them. “Why is everyone looking at me?” He asked.

“You just drank ghost bath water, dude.” Skizz said.

“Ohh…” Scar said, looking at the empty glass. “I zoned out, sorry. So this was the ghost evidence?”

“And you drank it, yeah.” Gem said.

“This tastes familiar. I know where the ghost is.” Scar said. “Follow me.”

He took off, leaving Gem and Grian to stare at each other in disbelief, then follow, followed by Impulse thanking Zed for his help before taking off too, holding Skizz on the hi-pad. The ghost-hunting group followed Scar all the way to the middle of the ocean, to a huge pinball machine that lit up the night sky. They landed on the top, looking around.

“Why are we at Joe Hills’ place?” Grian whispered.

“Because that’s where the ghost is.” Scar said, pointing down at a glowing green ghost on the pinball playfield, moving around, placing blocks, trailed by chains. “It’s the Beetlejoest, it’s what Joe Hills turns into sometimes. Bit of an odd guy, but he still bleeds if you use the right arrows.”

“Wow, a real ghost! On Hermitcraft!” Impulse exclaimed. “Let’s set up our ghost hunting equipment, get as much information as we can! Quick, someone grab the parabolic mic!”

“So are we just going to ignore the part where Scar knew what Joe Hills’ ghost tastes like?” Grian asked. “Was I the only one that heard that?”

[dmwrites]

The Beetlejoest was lost. Not that Joe was any better, really, but Beetlejoest hated being on the same level as Joe with anything, so you could understand how this was annoying. Joe had gone to the mangrove forest of the witch Shelby, to ask her for some mangrove roots and wood. He hadn't realized the time of night, the fool, and Beetlejoest had taken over, said fuck the system, and went into the thick forest himself to just yoink some roots for himself. However, the fog in and around the forest was thick, and within a few minutes, the Beetlejoest was hopelessly lost.

“Stupid fog.” The Beetlejoest muttered, hitting the side of a mangrove tree with a stick he’d found. “Stupid Joe, wanting mangrove roots. What, is normal wood too good for you, you hipster? I’ll fight the fog, that’s what I’ll do. Intimidation is the only way to get what you want, ya hear that, fog?”

“You can’t fight fog, you miserable shit.” A voice, airy and echoing, came from the fog.

“Ahh! Wha- who’s there? This ain’t my ex-wife, is it?”

“What? No, I don’t think I’m your ex-wife.” A tall figure stepped into view. The being was slightly translucent, although the Beetlejoest could still see that the figure wore a faded yellow sweater, with a peculiar blue stain. “I’m Ghostbur. Who are you? And have you seen a blue sheep around?”

“Ah, well, see, me here, I’m the Beetlejoest, in no way affiliated with Joe Hills, thank you very much.” The Beetlejoest adjusted his suit and stuck out a hand. Ghostbur tried to shake it, but since they were both ghosts, they just had an awkward moment where their hands went through each others. “I haven’t seen or heard a sheep, much less a blue one. Can’t see a darn thing in this fog.”

“Well, if you see one, it’s name is Friend, and it fucking ran off.” Ghostbur started to wander off, but the Beetlejoest ran after him.

“Wait! Wait! I would normally time you out and make you read the rules, and cursing is one of them, but beggars can’t be choosers! I am lost, and I need help getting out of this dumb forest! I can help you find your sheep, first, of course, I’m not a monster, just a ghost, a Beetlejoest doing the beetlemost, if you will.”

Ghostbur turned to look at him. “You talk so much, yet say so little. But I guess I also don’t have a choice, so come on then.”

The Beetlejoest opened and closed his mouth in surprise and outrage, but decided to wait to strike his revenge and followed the taller ghost.

“Friend! Friend! Come back I have some nice wheat for you!” Ghostbur called into the fog.

“What kind of name is Friend, anyway?” The Beetlejoest grumbled crossly. “Did you have to be 2014 tumblr quirky or something?”

“You must be American- you remind me of that annoying American guy with the onesie. Came into my house and put American flags up. I burnt them, naturally. You’re not Connor in disguise, are you? He’d be the type to get lost in fog.” Ghostbur sneered.

“No, I am The Beetlejoest through and through.” The Beetlejoest said. “But if you wish to speak on the American flag, did you know that-”

“Shut up, I hear baa-ing!” Ghostbur interrupted. “Friend? I have some wheat! Come here!”

And out of the fog came a fluffy blue sheep, which looked calmer then both of the ghosts combined. Ghostbur hugged it in relief and tied a lead to it.

“Right, so, I helped you, now will you help me find my way out?” The Beetlejoest asked.

Ghostbur laughed awkwardly. “Well, I’m afraid that I’m now in the same boat as you. I am also lost. I don’t even know how I got into this forest in the first place.”

The Beetlejoest looked at him in surprise. “How can you not know how you got here?”

Ghostbur frowned, a puzzled look on his face. “I don’t know. I wasn’t here, and then I was.”

“Well, where were you before, then?” The Beetlejoest asked.

Ghostbur shook his head. “I’d rather not… don’t worry about it, alright? I’m sure if we walk in a line, we’ll find an end. Where? I don’t know.”

So, with no other option, they walked. They made for quite a crew- a black and white ghost in a pinstripe suit, a ghost with a yellow sweater, and a blue sheep. They walked through the fog, avoiding mangrove trees that came out of nowhere and ignoring the whispers. And eventually, somehow, they emerged from the fog and were right in front of Shelby’s house.

“We did it!” The Beetlejoest said. “I’m back where I was. I don’t know how, but we did it!” He went to high-five Ghostbur, but found the man gone, the sheep as well. All that was left was a bit of blue substance on the ground, like a rock or something. The Beetlejoest picked it up, and as he did, the first rays of sun peaked over the treetops, and Joe Hills took his place. He held the blue substance in his hands, not a solid or a liquid, but something else entirely.

“Well, thanks Ghostbur. And Friend. Sorry we didn’t get to say goodbye.” Joe said. He pocketed the blue stuff, and took the nether portal nearby back home. He could just use something else in place of those mangrove roots. He didn’t need them that badly.