#ev;purgatory

[youphoriaot7]

Charlie: "What's the green team name again?"

Carre, with a vengeance I haven't heard from him all day: "LOSERS."

[youphoriaot7]

Charlie: "Phil... :( Can you send us a tutorial?" Phil: "On…on what?" Cellbit, completely deadpan: "Minecraft."

[youphoriaot7]

It is WILD watching people walk out of these streams. Because blue team viewers come back, and they're relatively sane, a little worked up, but, hey, that's expected. And then I see green team viewers and most of them are grinning, excited and having a blast.

And then you glance at the red team viewers, who are red-faced and sweaty and look like they just crawled out of a pit from hell (fitting, at least). They can barely breathe from laughter and their eyes are a touch too wide and there's a definite gleam of insanity and I just-

I just imagine the green and blue viewers having a chat and turning to just see this insane animal standing nearby and blinking at it. Like. I can't describe how funny this is.

CAUSE LITERALLY—all the people I know that watched green are chill and calm and had a ton of fun, and the blue team have been fairly quiet, and then. Red team.

[youphoriaot7]

Roier has already made it very clear to green team that he won't be killing Cellbit.

Pierre targeted Maximus in retaliation for their breakup.

...time to see how the relationships play into this, I guess.

[youphoriaot7]

Jaiden asking to call their bluff. Niki mentioning that she doesn't think a cursed team exists. Etoiles saying the Federation are just trying to turn them against each other. Baghera and Phil saying they need to figure out the cursed team.

The players are noticing. >.>

[youphoriaot7]

Missa :( thanks for that, buddy

"Hey guys, I'm not on your team, but I just want to tell you guys that I love you."

Red team joking about how it might be manipulation and Phil just immediately "He wouldn't do that, nah."

[youphoriaot7]

THE BOUNTY NPC IS GONE SKJFGHSFKJGHSF

[youphoriaot7]

Spawn point has been a bloodbath since it started. Of course it has, it always is. Fit knows that better than anyone. Returning to the main hub of 2b2t is a death sentence for anyone that can't manage to defend themselves, or at least anyone that can't keep an eye out for things.

Even stepping near it is a poor idea, but Fit knows he's kitted well enough to survive at least a few hits from an ambush—plus, he trusts his abilities. He might not like getting thrown back into his past so violently, but he'll do it. Whatever he has to do for Ramón.

As he approaches the spawn though, it's easy to spot someone standing on top of the path. Fit immediately crouches down, making his form as small as he can to avoid conflict. It's not worth fighting before he knows who it is. Slowly, he pulls closer, using the bridge as shelter as he tries to spot the figure.

When he finally does figure it out, he can feel his mouth go dry.

"...Pac?" he whispers, voice instinctively lower than usual.

Pac whirls around faster than Fit's ever seen him move before, eyes darting around the arena. "Who's there?" he demands, voice strong despite the way he looks like a deer in headlights. Fit knows that look. That look gets you killed.

...silently, he makes a decision.

"Pac," he repeats quietly, waving a hand over his head. "Here."

Pac's eyes finally alight on him and immediately his face brightens, darting into action. He scrabbles to the edge of the spawn path, swinging his legs over the edge before dropping to the ground. "Hey, Fit!" he greets, and the relief in his voice is clear. "What is all this?" He gestures to the spawn behind him with a thumb, and Fit feels something like a fist clamping around his heart.

Stupid fucking feelings.

"Never mind that now," Fit says quickly, casting a glance behind them to make sure they're still safe. "How did you get here, Pac? Where were you yesterday?"

Pac's eyebrows furrow and he stammers a bit as he replies. "I went to the Nether...Walter-Bob showed up two days ago and asked for help so I followed him in. He led me back to a portal which...took me here." He shrugs, as if it makes perfect sense. "But I haven't seen anyone since I landed."

Good. Fit hesitates, trying to decide what to do. On one hand, the little voice in the back of his head, the one that's been driving him forward for a day and a half is yelling that Pac isn't on his team, and he should just kill him while he has the chance. On the other hand—

"...Fit?" Pac steps closer, confused. "Everything okay?"

...it's Pac.

"Pac, this isn't...this is not Quesadilla Island," he begins slowly. "I don't have time to explain everything, but this...this is a very different world."

Pac looks even more baffled than he did a few minutes ago, and the look practically makes Fit want to rip his own heart out. "W-what?"

"Look, you need to go. Find Bad, find Tubbo, find Pierre—but stay away from me. And anyone else you see; just go find one of them."

"...Fit?" Pac blinks, confusion quickly turning to concern as he takes another step closer, and Fit instinctively moves away. Pac stops in his tracks, a vague expression of hurt flitting across his face. "What's wrong?"

Fit just shakes his head, avoiding making direct eye contact. "...we're not on the same side anymore," he says finally. "Your team can explain better than I can."

"My team?" Pac reaches out a hand in an attempt to grab Fit's, an action that ordinarily he wouldn't have even flinched at, and certainly not when it came from Pac.

But this isn't Quesadilla Island. And Pac is not on his side.

Fit's knife twitches in his grasp, only barely missing Pac's hand as he swipes his arm up to avoid the touch. Pac lets out a small yelp, staring in stunned shock at Fit as he pulls his hand back. "I told you," Fit repeats, trying to keep his voice from shaking. "You need to go."

Pac shakes his head in disbelief, confusion still clear on his face as he takes a step back, then another. "...I'm gonna figure out what's going on, okay, Fit?" he promises in that determined tone of his, the same one he's been using on all of their investigations. "I can get to the bottom of this."

Fit doesn't answer. It's safer not to answer. Instead, he wordlessly turns away, moving as quickly as he can back towards his team's base. He can hear Pac's footsteps echoing off into the distance for a short while until his senses click back in and he suddenly realizes how very stupid he's being.

He hasn't checked his surroundings in minutes. He let an easy kill get away. He actively helped someone find their way back to his team.

He's gone soft. And he'll never get Ramón back that way.