#hermitheus

[unhonest-iago]

Day #18 of @hermitadaymay; hermitheus moodboard

like and reblogs appreciated <3

[pixiemage]

My Fate Is In Your Hands - Entry 8

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[A/N: This is a story entirely guided by you guys, by the readers. Be sure to vote at the end of each entry! ALSO, if you'd like to be added the tag list, please let me know and I'll be sure to add you next time!]

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➤ Watch Tango

Tango awakes slowly. It’s a fog, and a blur, and a static, and an ache. He registers the general soreness before he registers his surroundings, a weak and tired wince making his face tick for a fraction of a second.

Soft. Whatever he’s lying on, it’s soft. Bed, he thinks, as an abstract concept more than a word, even before his ears decide they want to work again. Bed, soft, comfortable. He’s sore, but he’s comfortable. And the air is warm. Sound reaches him a moment later, quiet and muffled from somewhere else. Distant murmuring voices, and the lowing of cattle, and a cicada making the air buzz.

One of his ears twitch.

…his head hurts.

Tango sucks down a sharp breath at the pulsing pressure he can feel behind his eyes, and he instantly regrets it, the dryness of his throat making him cough and making his head throb with pain. He winces and rolls onto his side, the blankets that he’s only now realizing are over him shifting with him as he moves. They pool in his lap as he pushes himself up into a sitting position. He tries to catch his breath and only struggles to do so the first two times before finally, finally, his lungs stop protesting against air.

He wheezes and takes a slower breath, licking his lips to wet them, and finally opens his eyes.

He doesn’t recognize the room he’s in. He’s lying on a bed in the center of a rustic-looking bedroom, wood walls and wooden floors and a homespun rug, a simple wooden dresser shoved up against one wall. There’s a chair nearby and a table beside the bed, all wooden, all looking like they might have been crafted by hand. There are potion bottles - some empty, some not - lined up on the table, and a hat straight out of a western movie is hanging on the back of the chair.

Sunlight is pouring in through a window, dust dancing through the rays, and there are other details in the room that Tango would be more interested in if he wasn’t so focused on the biggest questions beginning to spiral in his head.

Where is he? How did he even get here? The last thing he remembers…

“...to HASA, Tango Tek to HASA, do you read me? … Bdubs, you down there…?”

Feral creatures on the moon, disguised as something friendly but most certainly not. Sharp teeth, red eyes - an explosion–

“...is Tango Tek reaching out to Hermitheus, come in Hermitheus– … Doc? Do you copy? … Zedaph? Anyone?!”

Cold metal, stale oxygen, dark skies. The vast emptiness of space. And no time, running out of time. His own panicked breathing filtered back to his ears inside his helmet.

“...ship was damaged, but I’m making repairs. I’ve got an idea to get my bits off this rock, but I don’t know how long…”

(Desperate attempts to make it right.)

“...if I can time it right, I can still detonate, and we can deviate the moon’s trajectory…”

“...more damaged than I thought. The numbers Holsten is giving me aren’t great. I don’t know if I’ll even be able to take off if–”

Arguments with a snarky AI, and dread pooling in his veins. Fear. Panic.

“–got my ship up and running, but something’s up with the radar–”

“–Moon’s traveling at a higher velocity than expected. … Doc, I don’t know if my messages are reaching you, but our original ETD won’t cut it. You’ve gotta get everyone off the planet, pronto. If you don’t–”

He didn’t mean for it to go this way.

“–mayday, mayday! Tek to Hermitheus, Tango Tek to Hermitheus– … –going down– … –know if you made it out– … –let you down. I’m sorry, I should’ve–”

A knock at the door startles Tango from his thoughts and he snaps back to himself, suddenly very aware of his rapid breathing and the wheezing coming from his throat and the smoke and sulfur on his tongue. He’s wound tight as a spring, and when the bedroom door opens he scrambles back, nearly toppling over the far side of the bed in his rush to get away.

“Oh - gosh, I’m sorry!”

A startled voice cuts through his panic, a bright voice with an accent like Zedaph’s. There’s a man in the cracked doorway with blond hair and wide brown eyes, watching Tango with an apologetic look on his face.

“I’m so, so sorry,” the man says quickly, “I didn’t mean to–” He gestures to Tango, to the door, then jerks a thumb back over his shoulder, before awkwardly clutching at the edge of the door he’s half-hidden behind. “...are you alright?”

Tango blinks at him, his breathing slowly leveling out, not quite sure how to respond. Is he alright? It’s a complicated question. Silence hovers between them, and the man clears his throat.

“Er…do you speak common?” he asks, sounding awkward and unsure. “I mean Shelby said you might be an alien, which sounded a bit insane at the time, not gonna lie, but - well I did drag you out of a rocketship, so she might not be far off–” For the first time since waking up, Tango almost smiles. “But you look kind of human-ish, an’ the letters on your spacesuit look like ours, so…”

The stranger trails off, his face going a soft shade of pink, and Tango swallows past the dryness in his throat.

“Not an alien,” he mutters hoarsely, and the man at the door perks up. He opens the door just a little bit more, hiding behind it just a little bit less. Tango swallows again. “...blazeborn.” The man’s eyes light up in recognition. Tango clears his throat. Dry, so dry. “D’you have water?”

“Oh!” The man jumps slightly. “Right, o’ course! Sorry, I can–” He jerks a thumb back over his shoulder again. “Be right back.”

Then he’s gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

…you could leave, a voice at the back of Tango’s head whispers to him. He’s gone. You could escape.

It’s a tempting thought, in some ways. He’s in an unknown situation, so getting out might be smart. Tango doesn’t know where he is, or who that man is…though he can imagine how he got here. “Well I did drag you out of a rocketship,” the man had said…meaning his ship must be somewhere around here.

Probably in pieces, he reminds himself, grimacing at the memory of his ship spiraling through the atmosphere of some mystery planet. This mystery planet. But a ship in pieces is still worth something. Holsten is on there somewhere, and his communications line, for all that it had been faulty even before the crash. Tango doesn’t know how long he’s been on this planet, but the sooner he reaches out to the Hermitheus and her Hermits, the better.

(He ignores that traitorous voice in the back of his mind reminding him that his warning never reached Hermitcraft, that his friends and family never knew they had to leave sooner, that they’re probably already–)

No.

Tango sucks down a dry, shuddering breath. He can’t think about that now. He should leave.

…or he can wait for his host, he ponders, even as he swings his legs off the bed. The man seemed friendly enough. Maybe he could help Tango get back to his ship, and get some proper clothes, seeing as he’s still in the jumpsuit he normally wears beneath his spacesuit. (His spacesuit that he’s only now realizing is piled in the corner of the room, and he’s a bit impressed that his host managed to get him out of it, as complicated a thing as it is to put on in the first place.)

So he could wait, and hope that his host is kind. He could. Or he could leave and find his ship himself.

Leave or stay?

Leave. He doesn’t know this stranger, and he needs to get home as soon as he can

Stay. The stranger seems friendly, and Tango could use a friend right now.

Voting ended onOct 12, 2024

[A/N: I'm still trying desperately to move, so I'm not going to promise that I'll have the next part posted next week, but I'm keeping this story going no matter what! It's too fun and I love having something easy to write and work on when I need it! Also I'm a sucker for the crossover man, it's just too good.]

[Tag List] @firefly124 @mellioops @beaversuenightly @aris-has-a-paracosm @sincerely-nines @changeling-ash @therain-lover

Let me know if you'd like to be added!

[schattenfell]

So, the Hermitheus says it has detected an intruder on board and the cutscene ends with showing this mysterious growth at the back of the ship... Combined with Docms tweet I think we can say for certain that this is setting up the lore for season 9

[wixelt]

Some people are wondering if Mumbo ripped the blueprints for Grumbot and Grian for Jrumbot from the Hermitheus computer and i’m instead wondering if Xisuma slapped both Mumbo and Grian, said “don’t abandon your children”, then uploaded them both into the Hermitheus mainframe. :P

[wixelt]

Unrelated to my previous post, but the thought’s crossed my mind, so...

Not saying they’d have one on hand - for obvious reasons - but I can’t help but wonder if certain plot points in Amphibia would’ve gone differently if there were a Hermit around with a Totem of Undying on their person.

I dunno, maybe there’s an emergency stash on the Hermitheus or something...

[wixelt]

Going to spout my headcanon thoughts about the origins and progression of the Hermitheus in the Hermatrix ending for S8 after thinking them over for a few days.

The plans and “resources” for the Hermitheus were laid out by Xisuma at the end of Season 1 when he was nominated as de facto leader of the group in the absence of the previous de facto leader. Only he and a handful of other Hermits such as Tango know who actually built the Hermitheus for the group.

The initial ship came with only the unique sections and the Season 1 “pod”, but was designed for the easy addition and integration of further modules. For Season 2′s end, X put Mumbo and Tango in charge of the module’s construction, though as seasons went on, others such as Doc and Iskall would become part of this team as well, speeding up the turn around period for a new pod’s completion. Naturally, pretty much every other Hermit or friend of a Hermit has pitched in to help at some point.

Not every Hermit commutes on the ship between seasons. As seen at the start and end of Season 6, a lot of Hermits find their own way to their next destination or come and go as they prefer, the ship just being a sensible way to move large amounts of group resources. As such, the Hermitheus’ nav computer is programmed to automatically rendezvous with a signalling beacon built into Xisuma’s suit if he isn’t on the ship to steer it. If he is, he or someone else can do the job manually.

The gap after Season 7 is actually one of the only times the group has had to use the cryo pods due to the longer distance. Also, its the only time ever that X can remember the entire gang being on the ship at the same time, seeing as everyone pretty much made their way there post-season, including - to his surprise - Renbob and Goatman, who volunteered to keep the lights on while everyone else was frozen.

Pearl and Gem were genuinely invited to the next season and were intended to link up with Hermitheus en route, this being part of the reason for the slightly longer trip. When they arrived, though, everyone was already asleep - as expected - and Renbob and GM were running about in panic over the whole virus thing - less expected.

The two gals were sent into the simulation in hopes they could fix things, but the operators didn’t anticipate the two wouldn’t remember what they were there for and would be pulled into the simulation’s events once they turned up at spawn. Ren and Doc are their Plan B.

The Hermitheus has been in far orbit of what was going to be Season 8′s world but will now be Season 9′s for several months now due to the length of the simulation.

I had more thoughts, but i’ll leave it there for now. :P

[wixelt]

Observation. With each passing season, a new module is added to the Hermitheus, which means the ship is going to keep getting longer.

And longer.

And longer.

And longer, until it looks like some sort of comically rigid snake. :P