My piece for the @ldshadowzine! Ever wondered what a city council meeting in Animalia would be like? Well, now you can find out! <3
And be sure to check out the zine itself to see all the awesome art from everyone else!!
Fandom: Empires SMP
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Lizzie | LDShadowLady (Video Blogging RPF), Ariana Goate (Empires SMP), Buffy the Chicken Slayer (Empires SMP), Cherry Blossom the Axolotl (Empires SMP), Father Floof (Empires SMP), Snotilious Snotel Snotsalot the 3rd (Empires SMP)
Additional Tags: Mayor Lizzie | LDShadowLady (Video Blogging RPF), Cat Lizzie | LDShadowLady (Video Blogging RPF), Empires SMP Season 2, Local Governments, Humor, Canon Compliant, Talking Animals
It's time for the Critter City Council's regularly-scheduled monthly meeting, and the community center has never been so packed! Mayor Lizzie is determined to get through the night as quickly and easily as possible, but the citizens of Animalia have much to discuss.
Written for the LDShadowZine!
A gift for @mangrove-and-amethyst as part of the @mcytblrholidayexchange :3 I hope you enjoy!!
Read on Ao3
The day had finally arrived. Avid had been looking forward to and dreading this day in equal measure, and he spent the morning leading up to the main event with no small amount of trepidation twisting in his gut.
His fingers crept continuously into his pocket, wrapped around the small, smooth bit of wood there. Making sure it was still there. Making sure he was still ready.
Marm came to collect him around noon, her mood as bright as the sun. “Avid! I’m so happy you decided to come today.” She wore an elaborate outfit of reds and greens and browns, clothing he hadn’t seen her wear before. Climbing up her wrists were numerous bracelets made of twisting vines and dried flowers, beads carved of mangrove and oak and jungle and cherry. Around her neck were several necklaces, fashioned with dried, braided vines; each was decorated with a single pendant of carved and polished mangrove. Avid felt completely underdressed in comparison (even though she’d assured him weeks ago that he didn’t need to worry about dressing up). Marm reached out to link her arm through his, holding him close against her side. Her presence was a balm, and he let himself melt against her, tail curling around her ankle.
“Yeah,” he said, as she began to lead him down the skybridge toward Mangrove. “It’ll be good for me, I think. You know, to… see it for myself.”
She squeezed his arm and sent him a bright smile. “It will.”
Avid could tell they were close to Mangrove when the wooden path fell away, replaced by floating islands of stone and moss. He hesitated, sent a glance at Marm; she squeezed his arm and gave him a nudge. “First test of the day! Can you make it across?”
He rolled his eyes and scoffed. “'Can I make it across?' Of course I can make it across. Who do you think you’re talking to?”
“Avid,” she answered brightly.
“Exactly. Okay. Here goes!” Avid released her arm, swallowing around a lump in his throat. Then, with the agility gleaned from so much practice, and so long existing in the form of a monkey, he leapt from the skybridge to the first island.
He jumped from island to island with grace and precision, Marm’s footsteps close behind him. Where before, the feeling of his body suspended over the void had been cause for cold, gripping fear, now all he felt was weightlessness, freedom.
It wasn’t much longer that the chatter hit his ears. People from kingdoms near and far had made the trek just to be here for today’s celebrations. Through the sprawling mangrove trees, Avid could see flashes of the gathered crowd: people dressed in bright colors, in roughspun fabrics, in casual, everyday wear. He paused on one of the larger islands, staring ahead in apprehension. Marm landed beside him, placed a hand on his shoulder.
“You don’t need to worry,” she assured him. “Every year, there are new people who come to worship the Void. You’re far from the only one who hasn’t participated before.”
“True.” He felt for the carved wood in his pocket. “But I am the only one who’s been the most… vocally against this kind of thing.”
“And now you know better. You’ve changed your ways.” Her hand slipped down from his shoulder and into his own hand. She gave it a gentle squeeze, infusing him with warmth that raced up his arm and spread through his chest. “No one will hold it against you.”
“Yeah.” Avid let the warmth blossom into bravery, blossom into affection and gratitude. He squeezed back, dropped her hand. “Yeah, you’re right. Come on. Race you there!”
He leapt forward without waiting for a confirmation, laughed at the surprised squawk she let out. Marm caught up fast, her hair and clothing whipping in the wind she created with her speed. Avid pushed himself faster, feet pressing against the springy moss as the mangrove trees and crowds beyond grew closer.
And, with one final push, he was in the Mangrove Kingdom. The air here was thick and humid, much like in the jungle, but with a more… earthy tone. There were tents and stalls set up all along the path today, merchants hawking wares and frying foods. The atmosphere was properly festive, and that was, for some reason, surprising to him.
Marmalade hit the dirt only a split second after him, and she slammed the palms of her hands into his back, making him stumble forward. “You jerk,” she laughed. “That was not a proper race. I demand a rematch in the future.”
“Absolutely. You know I can’t say no to that.” He shot her a grin, forcing back the apprehension that continued to well up inside him. “Now! What’s on the agenda?”
“Well, first you have to peruse the festival market!” Her hand slipped into his again, and she pulled him toward the crowd. “Come on, I’ve been dying to try those samosas since I saw them setting up!”
And, for a while, Avid nearly forgot exactly what this holiday was for. He let himself relax, let himself enjoy the atmosphere and spending time with Marm in the middle of the crowd. He had thought that a festival like this, something dedicated to the Void, would be more somber. But maybe he should have known better. After all, Marmalade herself was dedicated to the Void, and she was far from somber.
They ate, they drank, they stopped to watch musicians and other performers, they even danced a little. As the sun began to set, bathing the world in golden light and painting the sky in shades of pink and orange and blue, Avid found himself growing tired. The pleasant sort of tired, the sort of tired that came from a day well-spent, the sort of tired that made you want to fall into bed and curl up under the blankets.
Of course, the holiday wasn’t over yet.
Marm took both of his hands in hers and squeezed. “Wait here,” she said to him. “I’ll be back.” She turned and left, weaving through the crowd, and Avid watched her go. Anticipation rose, climbing up his throat and dissipating the pleasant fog in his brain. His hand went to his pocket again, wrapping around the bit of jungle wood there. He was ready. He could do this.
When he saw Marmalade again, she was standing on a stage, little more than a silhouette against the setting sun behind her. “The day is ending,” she called, and the chatter of the crowd surrounding them fell into a hush. “The sun sinks down, giving itself to the Void, as it does each and every day. Today, we follow its example. Everyone! Please gather around the ring in the center of the island. Together, we will give our gifts to the Void. Together, we will gift ourselves to the Void.”
A cheer rose up, and the crowd began to surge forward, following her directions. Avid fought against the desire to go with the flow and let himself be swept away; he’d been told to wait for Marm, and so he would.
She found him again, and this time he took her hand. “Are you ready, Avid?” she asked. “You don’t have to go all the way; most people won’t.”
“I know I don’t,” he assured her. The anticipation and apprehension twisted and twined in his stomach, his chest, his throat. His heart was fluttering behind his ribs. But still. Avid had made up his mind. “But, I want to. I want to do this. I want to prove—prove to myself—that I can do this. That the Void is—that this is a good thing.”
She beamed at him. “Alright, then. Let’s go!”
They hurried through the crowd, pushing their way forward until they stood at the very edge of the ring in the center of the island. Avid stared down into it, into the nothingness of the void below. He swallowed, squeezed his eyes shut. This was a good thing. This was a good thing! What had happened before was a fluke. A terrible, horrible thing, but a fluke nonetheless. By doing this, he would be helping to prevent that from happening to anyone else ever again. His tail wrapped around his ankle, and he opened his eyes again. Squeezed Marm’s hand.
All around the ring, people were throwing things into the void. Jewelry, hats, toys, books. People were laughing and cheering and singing. Avid’s hand closed around the wood in his pocket, and this time, he withdrew it. A little wooden monkey, no longer than his pinkie finger. He’d carved it himself, had sanded and polished it until it shone. He didn’t know why he’d chosen a monkey, except that it fit well with the jungle motif. He didn’t want to think about any other reasons, anything else it might represent.
He lifted his hand, stretched it out over the void. And then he let the wooden monkey drop, watched it tumble end over end into the nothingness below, flickering in the dimming light, until it fell out of sight.
Marmalade dropped his hand. Her arm wrapped itself around his shoulders. “I’m proud of you,” she said, mouth close to his ear. “You can stop here, if you want. You can still change your mind.”
“I won’t. I’m ready.”
“Okay.” Marmalade smiled at him, and shifted her stance. One hand on his waist, the other clasped with his. Their hands were held out over the edge of the ring, hovering over open space. “Then here we go.”
She led him in a dance. One step forward, one step back. Her eyes were trained on his, sparkling and shining in the fading light of the sun. He could see the pride there, the love. He could feel the apprehension fading away, falling to the back of his mind as he let her lead him. Another step, and then one to the side, and—
They were falling.
Avid had fallen hundreds of times before. He knew what it was to be weightless, to have that certainty of death and nothingness fill you. He knew the fear, the terror, the dismay.
Falling had never felt like this.
Marmalade kept her hands on him, kept smiling at him. There was no ground beneath their feet, and yet they danced still. One step forward, one step back. She twirled him, and they laughed as the wind whipped around them, as their hair streamed upward. He dipped her, and she stretched her arms out over her head, praise and gratitude written in her expression. She straightened up, and tugged him close. They held each other, arms wrapped around each other, and the Void was fed.
With a virus infecting the Hermitcraft server and threatening to destroy the world they've built, a magic older than time re-emerges.
Mumbo is tasked with helping Scar awaken his guardian powers, but seeing as he himself has only transformed a handful of times… that may end up being more difficult than either would like.
read it on Ao3, or click "keep reading" to read it here on tumblr!
a short fic for the @soulsmake event! my partner @2000sraven and i came up with a mumscarian magical girls au. more details under the cut!
(also check out jay's half of the project--ART!)
this fic is based on a scene my partner came up with while we were planning it. i loved the idea so much i knew this HAD to be the bit i worked on for the event.
a little about our worldbuilding:
the virus is a code-breaking/code-destroying something that will almost certainly destroy an entire server once it gets in. the guardians are the first and last line of defense against this virus.
each guardian has unique abilities. grian (who was the first and only hermitcraft guardian before he brought mumbo in) has a fishing rod he uses to lure in entities/pull them in, and a staff that can cast any spell from enchanted books. mumbo's staff allows him to activate any redstone-based traps or machinery. and scar fights with his bow, as well as... well, you'll see!
please enjoy! <3
---
Their little corner of the server was quiet that day. Everyone had their own tasks to see to, their own bases to build up or relax within. There was the occasional birdsong, or the ‘baa’ of a sheep; machinery could be heard distantly, redstone contraptions hard at work. But no one came by on horseback, or gliding through the air on their elytra. It was just the two of them, Mumbo and Scar, and with luck, it would remain that way.
Mumbo hovered over Scar, wringing his hands as he tried to figure out how to explain this all to him. “So,” he said for the third time, “you just. You have to sort of…” Mumbo pressed both hands over his heart, and then paused. “Er. Maybe it’s more… centrally-located.” He moved his hands over his sternum, paused again. “No, no, that doesn’t feel right, either. Alright. So—”
“Mumbo,” Scar interrupted. He was seated in his wheelchair, weaving together a flower crown. “Maybe it would be better if you just showed me?”
“Right. Right, okay!” Mumbo bobbed his head, dropping his hands to his sides. He swallowed. “Um,” he said sheepishly, “forgive me if I’m a bit nervous. I’ve never done this in front of anyone before—well, apart from Grian, of course, but that was more, uh, spur of the moment, you see, and neither of us really had time to think,and—”
“Mumbo,” Scar said again, and Mumbo steadied himself with a deep breath.
“Right. Okay. So, it’s—you start like this.” Mumbo closed his eyes and let the power well up inside him. Despite him only having done this a handful of times, it was as easy as breathing.
Warmth bloomed in his chest, a comforting feeling that spread throughout his body. It pushed itself into his limbs, up his throat. It tingled in his fingertips, a lingering sensation, and then it was gone, and Mumbo was different.
He could feel it in the way his muscles moved, in the way his blood pulsed beneath his skin. There was power there, power Mumbo could only access now that he’d become a guardian. Distantly he heard Scar gasp, and he opened his eyes to find Scar watching him in awe, the flower crown laying half-finished in his lap.
Instantly, Mumbo blushed, heat rising in his cheeks. “I-it, well! That’s the, er, transformation complete. W-why don’t you, um, why don’t you try it?”
“What did you even do?” Scar demanded. “You closed your eyes, and then, ba-BAM! Fancy, frilly guardian outfit! What the heck happened?”
“Oh, you know I’m no good at explaining this sort of thing! You’re the one who wanted to see it!”
“Yeah, but I didn’t know it would be an insta- instante- sudden thing!”
“Please, Scar, keep your voice down,” Mumbo hissed. No one should have been nearby, but he didn’t want to take any chances. No one else could find out about what they were doing.
“Sorry, sorry. Okay, so I just sort of… do it? Feel something in my chest?”
“Yeah. Just think about what you want to do. Not—don’t think about transforming, exactly. But think about… well. About helping people, I. I suppose.” Mumbo cleared his throat, glanced away, up at the treetops of the surrounding forest. “You’ll know when you’ve done it right. You’ll feel it.”
“Like this?”
Mumbo turned back toward Scar. “Oh my goodness!”
In the scant few seconds Mumbo’s attention had been elsewhere, Scar had transformed. Gone were his khakis, replaced with clothing of dusky pink and icy blue. Like Mumbo and Grian, Scar’s new outfit was home to plenty of lace and ruffles. Cuffs circling his forearms and around his biceps showed off his strength. He wore a matching choker around his neck, a little cat-shaped charm resting against his breastbone. His face and body looked the same as always, but Mumbo knew instinctively that he wouldn’t recognize Scar if he wasn’t fully aware of who—of what—he was.
“Exactly like that,” Mumbo agreed.
“I like the frills,” Scar commented, looking himself over. “Okay. So how do I do the cool magic-casting stuff you and Grian do?”
“Oh!” Mumbo straightened himself up. “Well, that part is really quite simple, actually. You can probably feel the magic now. You feel different,right?”
“Yeah. Stronger, I think.”
“Right. That’s, like, your code changing to allow more… er. Possibilities, I suppose?” Mumbo felt his cheeks heat again. “Or, well, I suppose I don’t really know. That’s just the, sort of, assumption I’m making, based on what I know. A-anyway! You just need to channel that new strength. Like how you transformed. But this time, picture—ah. Picture a tool, I suppose. Picture what you need to get things done.”
Scar tilted his head back to look up at the sky. “What I need…” he murmured. Mumbo looked away again, lifting his hand to absentmindedly tug at his mustache.
He wondered what Grian was up to now. He’d sent Mumbo to walk Scar through the process of awakening his powers because he had “something very important” to take care of. Maybe that was just an excuse to not have to deal with this particular task, but. Well. Grian had been acting more responsible since this whole code-eating virus thing had started. It probably was something very important. Which did not help Mumbo’s nerves. Being one of only two people—three, now, with Scar—standing in the way of the total annihilation of their world was very hard on his nerves.
Suddenly, there was a bright burst of light, and Mumbo spun toward its source, heart pounding in his chest. Scar had wheeled himself a few blocks away, facing away from Mumbo, and was gazing up at… at…
Well. At what Mumbo could only comprehend as an enormous rendition of Scar’s cat, Jellie.
She towered over the surrounding trees, which were themselves quite tall. Her bright green eyes glistened in the sun, and her tail flicked as she watched them.
As Mumbo stood gaping up at her, Jellie lifted one paw up over the trees. Panic shot through him, and without thinking he leapt forward and shouted, “No!”
Scar startled, gasping, and the giant Jellie vanished as suddenly as she’d appeared. Before Mumbo could breathe a sigh of relief, though, Scar slumped forward.
“Scar?!” Mumbo dashed to his friend, placing his hands on Scar’s shoulders and pushing him upright. Scar had detransformed; he was himself again, without the powerful presence his guardian form gave him. His eyes were closed, his face slack; he had fainted dead away.
“Not good, not good,” Mumbo muttered to himself. His hands were jittery, his mustache quivering. What the blazes had happened? Would Scar be alright? Had anyone been near enough to see Jellie peering over the treetops?
Keeping Scar upright in his chair, Mumbo let out a long breath. “Grian,” he whispered, “please come back soon. I have no idea what I’m doing."
