a library of written works

i'm not the library of alexandria, but i am a library. Ancient. They/Them. 31

[theancientcitylibrary]

about me:

Hello. I am Ancient, like it's my nickname and everything, but you guys can call me any variation of it - and I like to write. A lot. I'm probably not always the best at it, and sometimes it takes me some time to get things out, but I do write enough that I count myself a writer (though we all know that to be a proper writer it's gotta drive you insane). I am a libra - not that it really matters - and while I prefer they/them pronouns but accept any pronouns.

It is here that I'll be acting as a librarian for my own works. I'll mostly be writing about my favorite block people - ✨Empires✨ - and probably putting down a lot of my headcanons. For the most part, this will be an archive type blog where I can put my works down on after posting them to my AO3.

misc

My favorite Empires member is Pixlriffs, followed closely by LdShadowlady. I originally followed Gem first as she was basically my first ever minecraft youtuber. I have come to love watching Hermitcraft (Joe Hills for the win) and while they may be background characters/secondary characters in fics I write, it's highly unlikely that I'll ever actually write a fic about them first and foremost - though then again, I did say to my friend that I'd never write Empires fanfictions and now look at me.

Most of my fics will not have much romance outside of me stating that two characters are dating, I am horribly aromantic so I feel a bit uncomfortable writing about it since I feel like I can't, though in some cases it will be exists in other forms as Joel/Lizzie has my heart (though nothing nsfw). Other than that, I'll probably write about a little of everything. I do take request but that's like really tentative since I'm never sure if it'll spark a fic from me, but go ahead, throw things my way.

written fics | answered asks | reblogs | favorites | meta | my posts

[theancientcitylibrary]

title: collateral affections (or how not to fall in love with your fake boyfriend) author: theancientcitylibrary rating: teen and up audiences warnings: no archive warnings apply category: gen, f/f, m/m word count: 2.401 fandom: misadventures smp relationship(s): fwhip | fwhip & pixlriffs | pixl, fwhip | fwhip/pixlriffs |pixl characters: fwhip | fwhip, pixlriffs | pixl, additional tags: au – road trip, fake/pretend relationship, kidnapping, humor, crack treated seriously, unreliable narrator, falling in love, dialogue heavy, sarcastic banter as a love language, relationship can be read as either platonic or romantic, minor GeminiTay/PearlescentMoon summary: fWhip just needed a fake boyfriend to get through his sister's engagement party, he didn't expect to find the perfect candidate while breaking into a car. series: au august 2025 || link to ao3

a/n: This is for AU August 2025, day one 'romance' (or if needs must, alt prompt: pretend relationship). It's just a fun little thing, if you don't ship this, you can read it as platonic; if you do ship it, it's pre-relationship.

fWhip knows he shouldn’t lie to his twin sister—okay, he knows it, and he feels bad every time he does, but—! At the same time, he wouldn’t have to lie to her if she just would stop asking about his life so much.

You know, like what is she? A cop?

Well, no, she’s a lawyer—or well, a law student, but, doesn’t matter because she’s nosy. Something she has no right to be, given that before she decided that being a lawyer was going to be her life’s choice, she ran in the same crowds, so she should know better. Really, just because two months earlier she had gotten him out of trouble for that burglary and now she’s asking him if he’s changed who he hangs out with because she doesn’t want him to get arrested in the middle of her wedding events.

“No, seriously,” fWhip says, one hand lifting off the wheel to move for the drink in the cup holder. Mostly because he’s sure that he’s been staring at his companion a little too long—not his fault, they’re really pretty.“She really said that to me—like our cousin isn’t going to be there and way more likely to get arrested than I am.”

“Wait.” Blue eyes squint in confusion before a toss of brown hair and head shaking (actually) pulls fWhip from his staring—along with the blare of a car horn because he almost swerved into the wrong lane. “Why is your cousin more likely to get arrested?”

“Oh, because he has a bad habit of using anything that looks like a pole to dance against regardless of location.” Really, fWhip loves Sausage but that was a hard conversation with that pretty blonde deputy who got pawed at when Sausage decided that walking around when drunk was the best decision and found himself dancing on the pole in the Stratos Elementary School playground while screaming at the top of his lungs about how he’s traveled through dimensions and learnt a cool new move.

“Yeah, that would get someone arrested.” The absolutely deadpanned way the other says this is probably in the list of top ten ways someone has ever sounded so disappointed in another person, probably only beaten out by the way fWhip’s parents felt about him when he turned out to be a science kid and not the political science kid they were hoping for.

fWhip nods his head rapidly, finally happy someone else is agreeing with him. Especially someone who looks as smart and put together as the man who’s car he’s driving down some very boring roads. “Thank you!” He’d lean over and kiss the other, but honestly, he’s being honked by every boring driver in the world that he doesn’t want to risk it being interrupted. “Ugh, finally someone who understands—like right, right, I got arrested two months ago but that was literally at the scene of the crime, Sausage gets arrested every two weeks because his platonic life partner’s wife gets him drunk on tequila and he wanders off to strip in the middle of Spawn City, and somehow I’m the bad guy.”

“Your cousin’s name is Sausage?” Is his eyebrow perfectly sculpted or is fWhip imagining it as the other tilts his head just barely and lifts a brown eyebrow to stare at him in disbelief.

Waving a hand, fWhip makes a face hoping to ignore the weirdness of that thought.”Weird names are normal around here,” he replies before making a face. “I mean, do you even have a place to talk? Wasn’t your name like Picks or something?”

“Pixl,” his companion corrects, and fWhip mouths the word right afterwards, giving the other a smile when they roll their eyes at him. “But I was talking more about the fact that his name is Sausage and he likes stripping. Just wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to call him some stripper nickname when you introduced us.”

Ah.

Right.

No, that’s—that is a really good point.

“I’ve never thought it about that, but with the information you have on him, I’ll accept that you have a point there,” fWhip says, trying to sound mature instead of childish about that. It’s not Pixl’s fault that he doesn’t know that Sausage is a shelter manager, fWhip hasn’t gotten there yet. Nonetheless, fWhip forces himself to look away from the small smirk the other is giving and focus on something else—not the road because it’s a straight line and doesn’t need much of his attention—instead, he finds himself shaking the empty cup of whatever soda it was that Pixl had picked from the drive-through at that Sanctuary joint. “I am going to complain about the amount of ice to drink ratio because this is horrible, I’ve just finished the drink.”

Pixl says nothing.

Not that fWhip gives him a chance to, mostly because if the other says anything sarcastic or quippy, fWhip is scared he’s going to fall even more in love with them. “Anyway, like I was saying,” he starts, his voice lifting at the end of his sentence. “Gem—that’s my sister, favorite person in the world, and all around turncoat—only changed her tune on crime after she got caught by this like private detective or whatever it is Pearl does, and she decided that she was in love with her and everything.”

Which meant, fWhip thinks without the normal long-suffering sigh that normally accompanies this thought, that he lost his partner-in-crime.

“And Pearl is the woman she’s now engaged to?” Pixl asks.

fWhip nods his head. “Oh yeah, and they’re real adorable together. Like think that couple that takes pictures of each other to share on each other’s social all the time, and the ones who send each other smushy-kissy face good morning text messages are bad, they’ve got nothing on Pearl and Gem.” His sister and her fiancee was disgustingly worse than all that. “I swear, they’re like the epitome of that couple that will find each other in every life.”

“That sounds….” Pixl hesitates, and fWhip watches as he looks out the passenger window before shaking his head. “That’s sounds horrible actually.”

“I’m going to be real,” fWhip says as he turns down another road. Not a good road either, stupid tarmac—how hard is it to maintain the old fashioned roads that once covered every one of these streets? Seriously, he’s half tempted to complain about it, but since he doesn’t live around here, it feels like a moot point. Not that there’s such a thing as a moot point when you’re talking about good, pretty roads. “You look like the type of guy who tells their partner that he loves them at least ten times a day.”

And if he is, can he say those words to fWhip?

“And I am,” Pixl responds—not realizing the thrill that his confirmation gives fWhip—before he continues, “But apparently your sister and her fiancee are worse than that.”

“Well, no, not worse.” fWhip pauses, then frowns. “Look, she’s my sister so be nice, okay. You’re going to love her—she’s like me but friendlier.”

“Oh,” Pixl says, and there’s something too easy about the way he speaks. “So she doesn’t break into people’s car and then ties up the occupant to the passenger door with their own belt and then forces them on a road trip across the continent?”

Hehe.

He’s half tempted to point out that they’re not going across the continent, that fWhip is purposefully driving in circles in hopes of confusing the other so that when they do make it to Pearl and Gem’s engagement venue, the other won’t remember the drive well enough to lead deputies to it after fWhip lets him go. After all, they’re going to Sausage’s restaurant—the passion project of his friend—and the last thing fWhip wants is for Pixl to remember the way there.

fWhip gives the other a smile, his little sharp canine poking against his lip as he does so. “You know, I don’t normally do this,” he says softly, trying to ignore the sharp bit of guilt that sticks at his stomach at the look the other gives. “You’re just special.” More like an angel who fell into fWhip’s lap right when he needed him to.

“Can I not be?” It’s so not a question—if the way the other mutters the words towards the window with a look of annoyance means anything—but fWhip can’t help but hear the question mark at the end and feel the urge to answer it.

“You’re literally just doing a man a favor.” fWhip wants to roll his eyes, and ignores that the other does instead, because really— “You’re acting like I’m going to kill you or something, you’re just going to pretend to be my boyfriend so my sister stops bugging me about my life.”

“I would rather be dead than at a family function.”

Well, that answers all the questions that fWhip had about his family—which, see, fate: they both had family troubles. Which fWhip absolutely doesn’t say because that would make him look insane, or, well more insane then he probably looks.

“Fair.” fWhip says after a second. “But my sister’s getting married and she needs to see that my life isn’t a huge wreck because if it is, she’ll feel guilty about it and I love her too much to let her think that she’s somehow to blame for everything wrong in my life.”

There’s something weird in the look Pixl gives him, but before fWhip can even think about trying to decode it, he’s speaking, “Have you thought about actively changing your life, or therapy?” There’s a quick pause before Pixl is speaking again. “I think therapy might help your entire family.”

“I haven’t even told you about my parents!” fWhip tries to argue but the other just shakes his head.

“You don’t need to—it’s written in everything about you.”

Which ouch.

More than a little rude.

fWhip knows he’s not the most legally sensible, but he’s got a huge range of friends—something that Pixl obviously doesn’t have because instead of staying the night at a friends’ place, he parked his car in the back of some shady alley in one of the worst cities in all of Imperia and then fell asleep there without even making sure his car doors was locked. Which fWhip lets him know before he can say anything else more rude and stops being the pretty face that fWhip decided would pretend to be his boyfriend for the next couple of hours.

“I’m not friendless,” Pixl says with a shake of his head and a twist of his hands as if he’s testing the strength of tie job that fWhip has put him in. “I’m visiting—and I didn’t want to pay for a hotel in a city that I was hopefully not going to spend more than a few hours in.”

“Well, now you know to make better choices in the future,” fWhip says with a shake of his own head. If the other can be pretty and sarcastic, fWhip’s going to show that so can he. “And maybe you’ll learn to lock your car doors.”

“Stop saying the doors weren’t locked when I heard you pick the lock!” If the other rolls their eyes any harder, they’re going to stick like that, he can hear his grandmother’s voice say—right before she taught him how to lie to the diamond mine reps about her account.

He’s not pouting—no, really, he’s not, but he is giving the other a side eye. “I thought you were asleep until the car started?” After all, when fWhip had swerved the car over to the side of the road, almost side-swiping the building as he did so, that’s the excuse that Pixl had given.

“I said that in hopes that you would let me go.”

fWhip makes a face, and before he can stop himself, he finds himself asking, “Why would that make me let you go? Like say I’m a basic car thief, why would pretending you were asleep when I broke in make me let you go?”

The other makes a noise—annoyed, complicated, and just all around disappointment threads through it, and for a second, fWhip can imagine it the same noise his mother made when he broke into the science lab when he was 15 years old and his teacher had decided to ignore his request to build a plasma-launcher. “I don’t know,” Pixl is saying, his words sharp. “I’ve never been kidnapped before so I didn’t know what to say.”

He wants to say really, you haven’t—you look like that and you haven’t been kidnapped before? but that would be weird and rude and fWhip can tell he’s already walking on really thin ice with this guy, so better to not poke the polar bear. What he does say is: “Well, I would give you advice on how to avoid it, but you’re my first.”

Pixl makes a snorting sound, and for a second fWhip doesn’t get it before he finds the meaning the other probably has grasped onto and then he’s blushing red— “I meant my first kidnapping!” fWhip says sharper than he’d like. “And you know, for a supposedly innocent man you are just a walking innuendo. Sausage is going to like you.”

“Great,” Pixl mutters. “A man name Sausage is going to like me.”

Fair.

“Look,” fWhip tries to not wince at the fact that he sounds like his father when he sat fWhip down when he was 17 years old and told him that he was out of the will until he changed his life around—we can’t have a criminal as the head of Grimland-Gobland Mining Corporation—as if the things that fWhip had done at that point actually counted as crimes. “I get that I’m taking you out of your real life, and I’m sorry, no really, I am, stop giving me that look, but can you just pretend that I haven’t kidnapped you, just for like a measly two hours?”

Pixl goes quiet.

“Fine.” There’s a definite long-suffering noise from the other as he pulls on the belt holding his hands together and to the door. “But undo my hands already, sitting like this hurts.”

[keyslox]

art based off the fic to the grave (never made a sound) by @theancientcitylibrary d:D

text directly from the fic! credits to ancient!!

guess who finally finished d:j

[theancientcitylibrary]

how do i??? this is beautiful, this is perfect?? like look at the shading on fWhip looking back at the tendrils, look at the facial expression, look at fWhip's facial expression as he stares back at the tendrils, at the warmth that he stares at Pix with - I'm actually crying this is so amazing!! like thank you so much!!

[keyslox]

art based off the fic to the grave (never made a sound) by @theancientcitylibrary d:D

text directly from the fic! credits to ancient!!

[theancientcitylibrary]

[incoherent screeching] omg this is beautiful 💛💛💛 i love it so much!!

[theancientcitylibrary]

OHHH MY GOD YOURE ON TUMBLR I LOVE YOUR WRITING RAAAAA YAAAAY IM GLAD YOU SAW MY ART YIPPIEEE

I am! I don't spend a lot of time on here but I'm always lurking around at some point throughout the day! And I love your art!!! It's perfect, it's amazing, I have shown more people in my life it, they don't understand the context but omg do they agree that it's perfect!!

[keyslox]

art based off the fic to the grave (never made a sound) by theancientcitylibrary on ao3!

gunpowder boys gunpowder boys gunpowder boys gunpowder boys gunpowder boys gunpowder boys gunpowder boys gunpowder boys gunpowder boys gunpowder boys gunpowder boys gunpowder boys gunpowder boys

[theancientcitylibrary]

title: to the grave author: theancientcitylibrary rating: teen and up audiences warnings: no archive warnings apply category: gen word count: 3.000k fandom: misadventures smp relationship(s): fwhip | fwhip & pixlriffs | pixl characters: fwhip | fwhip, pixlriffs | pixl, mythicalsausage | sausage, additional tags: au – canon divergence, minor horror elements, implied amnesia, mild hurt/comfort, minor injuries, empires smp references, brief innuendo courtesy of mythical j sausage, other tags are descriptors, summary: Pix is obsessed with the crypts, fWhip doesn’t like it || or, there is something in the crypts that seem to want to keep Pix, but whatever is in there, it’s going to learn that Pix is their friend and non darkness can have him. series: misadventures au

link to ao3

It’s a quarter after midnight when fWhip finds himself standing outside the Lost Crypt’s entrance, waiting. The moon is high in the sky, a solitary figure among the inky black that hides the clouds and stars, projecting shadows across the grass, the trees, and the ruins of whatever society that had created the ancient crypt that he waits outside of it.

Pacing between what Pix had called pews—this was once a church, and these were once stone pews placed in front of what was probably the altar, the other’s voice echoes in his thoughts, twisting and turning as he wonders when Pix will be released by the dead that seem to have a clawing hold over him.

Kicking a rock as fWhip tries to ignore the cold shiver that runs down his spine—it’s not even that cold out tonight, he thinks to himself quite petulantly, the wind’s been quiet since the storms that had violently broke over Meriport three nights ago—but he can’t ignore it, at least, not all the way. It feels cliché to think, but he can feel something in the air, a charged force he doesn’t fully understand, only the barest sense that he’s felt it before once.

It feels like something's coming, he just doesn’t know what.

Pulling his arms around his chest, he tries to force his focus back to his original thoughts; things like road building and talking it over with Pix, who had missed the first meeting, then maybe some normal chit-chat; things about how the builds are going, any fun adventures, any interesting locations he’s seen in the resource worlds, and such. Perhaps, fWhip thinks as he stares at the darkened entrance, he can ask the other why he’s running so many trips to the crypt, surely all of these can’t be because he’s looking for that damned skeleton dog.

And it’s not like fWhip doesn’t run it either, he does, but he can tell it’s different between them.

Pix seems drawn to the dead who reside there, who wake each time one of them enter; he seems like he needs to be there, as if he’s looking for something amongst the coffins and the broken stone, and though fWhip hasn’t gone in with the other at any point, he did talk with Drift about the run she and Pix had done, even if that hadn’t amounted to much.

“He’s good at the parkour,” she had said, giving him a strange look when he had saddled up right next to her in her own home. Things like permissions and privacy had never kept him out of places he shouldn’t go, and it was best that she learnt it early on in their friendship. “He kept saying he was bad at it so I was surprised.”

fWhip had waved that off, a quick flip of his hand—Pix was known for self-deprecation, and having a stubborn streak that allowed him to learn anything he put his mind to. “Yeah, but that’s not what I mean.”

“Well, what did you mean then?” Drift had asked. “Because you haven’t really asked me anything but how my trip in the Lost Crypt had gone with Pix.”

And that was the crux.

fWhip has no clue what to ask—he still doesn’t several days later—and so he had left her with a quick shrug, a thanks thrown over his shoulder, and probably a mystery of her own if she felt like getting involved, before he had wandered back to his place.

How does one ask a question that they don’t know how to speak?

The world shakes; the ground shuddering and splintering, pulling debris from the tall pillars down to the ground in little showers of dust and dirt, bringing up an echo of a memory that fWhip doesn’t actually remember, and drawing fWhip from his thoughts. His eyes go to the crypt’s entrance, the smoke crawling out of the darkened doorway like fingers grasping at the floor for purchase, leaving phantom claw marks across the cracked stone. It’s not what draws his eyes though. There in the center of all the smoke, backed by the blackened entrance is Pix, his blue eyes wild as they look around the ruins, unseeing.

Moving forwards as casually as he can, fWhip ignores the echo that seems to bounce around the fallen church; the way it follows each step he takes towards the other. He’s never seen Pix look so out of sort, as if he’s seen something he shouldn’t have, and he’s about to say that when the other drops his sword and shield, them hitting the cracked stone with a clang, Pix following them to his hands and knees.

fWhip can’t help the shout of worry that escapes his lips as his steps move to a rush so that he can drop to Pix’s side, several steps becoming nothing more than three. And as he hovers his hands over the other, he wonders, for a brief second, if he should touch him, if it’ll send the other into a fit or something, but before he can stop himself, he finds himself moving to grasp him by the shoulders without any more thoughts.

“Pix! Are you okay?” He asks once on his knees beside the other. Pix doesn’t look okay, in fact he’s far enough from looking okay that fWhip shakes his head and asks, “What’s the matter?” instead.

There’s a silence. It fills the courtyard and it’s far louder than any words the other can say, all but lingering on the edges of the words that fWhip has asked, before Pix manages to say gently, “Tired.” His eyes are still wild, still looking around as if it’s the first time he’s seeing the courtyard of the Lost Crypt, as if it’s the first time that he’s seen fWhip, but there’s a bit more of himself in them that fWhip feels the worry still.

It’s not gone, of course, how can it be when there seems to be something wrong with his friend, but it’s quieter, like a little whisper in the wind.

“I have to – I have to, to go back in,” Pix stutters, mutters, after a few seconds of silence, of fWhip not knowing how to respond to the other. He reaches down his sides for his sword and shield absentmindedly, moving as if he’s planning for another run, and fWhip hates the no, don’t! that slams into his chest, a sick fear that gets him moving quicker than he’s ever moved before.

Giving the other a quick shake of his head, he grabs Pix's hands in his own, wrapping his fingers around them—only to stiffen at the unnatural cold that clings to the other’s skin, a chill creeping up his spine again. His grip tightens, as if trying to keep something unseen from slipping away, and he feels his eyes meeting Pix’s dark blue, trying to find and ground Pix back to this place instead of wherever he seems to be being dragged off into. Pix looks away first, dropping his gaze to the floor where their knees meet the harsh cracked stone and cobblestone, where little pebbles press against their clothed legs and sprouts of green pocket the lines left behind by age.

“Oh no you don’t,” fWhip says sharply, moving to grab the other by the chin. Forcing Pix to look at him, he shakes his head again, this time more forcefully, as if perhaps he can motherhen the other into listening. “You are not going back in there tonight.” And doesn’t he wish he could say that the other will never go in there again—that there’ll be another dungeon to run that’s less likely to take the other away from him, but he can’t. The Lost Crypt is one of the best there is right now, all dull tones and ancient lore aside; it’s easy once you get into the groove and it pays out more gold and experience than the sewers.

“I have to,” Pix whines, the noise one that fWhip has never heard the other make. But, unlike the whines of a child wanting something—or an Oli, in the case of their server—it’s like the whine of a wounded creature, though at the same time, far too abnormal: too low, too stretched, too wanting. The other stares at him for a second, his eyes going unfocused again before snapping back in another unnatural way. “The coffins, they’re not—some of them are empty.”

There’s a weird emphasis on that word, on the empty that reverberates through his bones in a way that he doesn’t like. It slithers like snakes down his spine, curling at the base, as the words coffins shouldn’t be empty stick in his throat, the words unspoken.

Because, well, coffins shouldn’t be empty.

But then again, the dead shouldn’t rise even when someone visits them like they do down in the crypts, so perhaps it’s a strange thing that has to do with this world that Lizzie has created—she has always been a little off.

Still, he can’t hide his disgusts as he asks, “What?”

“Beneath the ancient church, the long forgotten sepulchers lay empty, waiting for their future reflections,” Pix murmurs, his eyes sliding shut. “Forgotten memories lay dormant, aching to find peace.”

Again.

“What?”

This time, fWhip waits for an answer. It doesn’t come, instead, Pix leans forwards, laying his head on fWhip’s shoulder, his breath a ghost against his bare neck. For a second, he wishes he wore a scarf—and really, it feels like he has once—before he shakes that thought away, instead leaning his head on top of Pix’s. Exhaustion that even fWhip can feel pulls at the other, and so he lets him rest, keeping his breathing even as he can. He keeps his eyes scanning the area, as he pulls out his comm, checking to see if anyone else is up and able to help him drag Pix to the fWarms.

He sees that Sausage is still active, his comms set to available, and so he sends the quickest hey can you help? pix collapsed outside crypt, before sliding it back into his hoodie, hoping the movement didn’t bug Pix. No matter what Sausage is doing, he’ll come—they’re all friends here and always willing to help each other—but he hopes that Sausage sees the message quicker than he normally sees messages; with the way Pix is acting, he can’t help the bit of fear that sits at the edge of his nerves.

“I have to go back in,” Pix says after a second, surprising fWhip out of his thoughts. He leans back on his haunches and looks at fWhip, a haunted look on his face; unnervingly unfocused, absentmindedly lost. It’s all wrong on the other’s face, as if he’s not here right now, as if Pixlriffs has left the body that sits in front of fWhip and instead something else has taken over. “I have to, there’s someone in there—they need me, I need to help them, I need to light the candles to help them.”

The… candles?

fWhip tilts his head as he tries to remember the layout of the crypts in his mind. “The big coffin room?” He asks, after a second, adding, “With the candles all around it? That’s what you’re doing in there?” And now that he knows what to look for, he sees the wax along the other’s fingers and the edges of Pix’s sweater, the charred look some of them have from lighting the flint and steel over and over again. There’s even a little burn on the other’s palm.

Letting out a hiss, he grabs the other softly, his fingers curling around the other’s wrist, trying to eye if it needs to be helped in healing or if some mechanic is going to kick in to deal with it. “You need to be more careful,” he scolds as he lets his eyes meet Pix’s. “Take a few minutes between each run.”

Pix shakes his head. “I can’t,” he whispers, eyes haunted. “I can’t.”

If fWhip had been worried before, he’s more worried now. There’s obsession—Sausage and LoreTM—and then there’s whatever this is, and this is just not good. He finds himself wondering if he should ask Lizzie to keep the Crypts closed for a day or two so that Pix can’t go back in there, but he wouldn’t even being to know how to explain it to her, let alone explain it to the rest of the server when asked.

Because really, how do you explain that Pix is acting possessed about the damn place without making it seem as if he’s gone crazy?

“Is this about the dog?” He knows it’s not. The dog is a different quest, one that fWhip doesn’t get but one that fits with every bit of what he knows about Pix; a collector he is in all but name as he wanders around the different servers they’ve been on, looking for things and teaching, and just being Pixlriffs. This is a strangeness that’s infecting the other, a darkness snaking itself around Pix and trying to take him. He doesn’t like it, the way the other still looks ragged and wild, even in the way he sits still—not that Pix ever truly sits still, the man is constantly moving, twisting and turning, much like the way the darkness seems to be trying to settle on him.

Quietly, he adds, “Please don’t go back in there tonight.” It’s a bit cruel to be leaning on the fact that Pix hates worrying his friends—on the fact that all it takes for Pix to stop doing what he’s doing is to ask for help and the other will come running to do so, but he can’t focus on that. He can only focus on the fact that it looks like death has it’s hand around Pix’s neck and is trying to drag him into the crypts to stay; that it looks that if Pix goes in there just once more, he’s not going to come out.

Pix stares at him, eyes blinking owlishly as they gain the light back slowly. “fWhip,” Pix starts but he shakes his head after a second and sighs. “I won’t go back in tonight,” he mutters after a second. “I promise.”

It’s barely a win—after all, he just said he wouldn’t go tonight but fWhip won’t focus on that, instead focusing on the fact that it’s still a win: the other won’t go back in there tonight. Before he can say anything, the crack of a footstep on gravel echoes throughout the courtyard. And maybe it’s all the eeriness that sits in the air, but for a second, he tightens his shoulders, hands wishing for a weapon to protect himself and Pix from whatever is trying to slink out of the darkness—

“fWhip?” Sausage’s voice rises out of the inky black.

He feels himself ease, giving Pix a small smile before calling out, “We’re right near the entrance!” Not that it was too dark for the other to see them, even with the both of them in darker clothes, and the moon only able to peek out from beneath the clouds whenever the wind stopped being still. He looks around the courtyard, eyes searching the dark. “Where are you?”

“Look this way,” Sausage says lightly as he comes up from the one angle that fWhip wasn’t looking. There’s a smile on the other’s face that seems out of place with the heaviness that fWhip’s feeling—with the words that Pix has spoken, the way the world seems to skew at a strange drift, acting as if everything was but a ghostly spectre that was teetering on the edge, ready to fall if fWhip looked too closely at it; a shimmering haze blocking out the truth of everything.

“Hey Sausage,” Pix utters, and even though just a second ago, fWhip had eked a promise from him not to touch them—or well, a promise that basically entails not touching them—he goes to reach for his sword and shield once again. “Can you take these for me.”

The words bring him up short, and he takes a second or two to blink away the confusion before he nods. “Yeah, I’ll take these, Sausage can take you.”

“Oh absolutely,” Sausage preens like a bird as he speaks. “I can always take Pix!”

There is definitely an innuendo somewhere in the words, but fWhip is too tired with worry; too anxious to get the other home and away from this place—from the creeping tendrils of darkness that reach out from the entrance and threatens to pull his Pix back into whatever seems to want to keep him—that he doesn't care. 

“Buy me dinner first,” Pix mutters as Sausage moves to grab him by the shoulders, fWhip bending to pick up the weapons. “I’m tired of going to the resource world to find a plains.”

No, he isn’t, fWhip thinks fondly as he sheaths the sword in his own belt and slides the shield across his back, which isn’t the most comfortable positions, but it’s fine enough for the travel back to the fWarms. “Since when?” fWhip asks as they begin to move. “You love exploring new worlds—it’s like your weird version of enrichment; if you don’t, you’ll combust.”

Pix chuckles, still a little more hollow than normal, still a little more ragged and tired, but it’s his laugh and that’s good enough for fWhip. Whatever has it’s hold on Pix in that crypt won’t keep him—fWhip won’t let it, he's their friend, and it’s these moments, the way Sausage picks up the teasing as they make their way away from the road that leads to the Lost Crypt, that gives him the feeling that Pix won’t let it either.

Or at least, the other will fight it.

[theancientcitylibrary]

title: from the dust and the underground author: theancientcitylibrary rating: teen and up audiences warnings: no archive warnings apply category: gen word count: 3.416k fandom: empires smp relationship(s): pixlriffs | pixl & zloyxp | sloy characters: zloyxp | sloy, original male character | marze, minor original characters additional tags: au – canon divergence, pre-series, backstory, mild language, emotional baggage, sloy & cleo are siblings summary: Sloy is struggling to deal with the idea of a new king—it’s made worse by the fact that the new king is a child. series: destiny averted || whumptober 2024

link to ao3

The new king is basically a toddler—he thinks basically because Sloy’s not sure what age counts as a toddler, which doesn’t actually matter, because it changes nothing.

The new king looks a lot younger than a sixteen year old, which was the age of their youngest king since Sloy has joined Pixandria, and while the kid does have a point towards him for being named after the desert that said kingdom lives in, it changes nothing again.

Because the new king is a child, and Marze is ignoring it, so is Ea-Nasir as he teaches what he can to the child for the few final days he has left on this world, and he can’t get hold of Lyarrah to complain to her because their new king is a child and no one is saying anything. He’s tried to say things but everyone keeps brushing him off, telling him that it’s fine, that he’s blowing things out of proportion, telling him to just focus on what is to come.

Sloy takes a deep breath as he gives the kid a small smile, trying to ignore the heartbreaking way the kid gives a gentle nod—he looks so young and so confused—but the movement gives Sloy the right to leave the room. He needs a few minutes to his own thoughts away from everyone who seems to want to make their child-king a normality.

And again—or well, he thinks he’s mentioned it, he’s not sure, his head has been a wreck for the last few months, ever since he noticed Ea-Nasir getting sicker after the Queen’s death—he doesn’t blame the kid, the kid has nothing to do with his discomfort…

Okay, the kid has a little to do with it, but that’s just by virtue of being the thing that discomforts him.

Mostly because a king shouldn’t be a child.

“You’ve already said this before, Sloy.” Marze’s dry tone invades his ears as he pauses in his steps. He’s not sure when he started heading towards the Vigil, but he stands before the place that led him to his home.

Eyes looking upwards, Sloy looks at the symbol of his gods and wonders why they allowed all of this to happen. “How old is this kid even?” He doesn’t want to know the answer, anything said that isn’t the words a really short adult will bug him. “Because I don’t think it’s appropriate to have a kid who probably can’t even read rule an entire kingdom.”

“Pixl can read,” Marze says shortly. There’s a pause before the older man moves closer, standing near where the candles sit carefully. Sloy doesn’t care much for many of the candles, the kings and queens they represent had run people like him out of their kingdoms since time immemorial and so he’ll always be bitter towards them, but even he can tell that many of them are struggling to stay upright as the winds of change sweep across the empires of the world.

He even knows that several candles have fallen, their colors completely drained and their designs wiped clean from the surfaces.

“Look, Sloy,” Marze starts again, his voice low. There’s a solemn look on the older man’s face before he speaks, and for a second, Sloy can feel some sort of camaraderie pass between them. It’s weird since normally he and Marze do not get along—not that they hate each other, it’s just Marze had followed the first King of Pixandria through the trials that the desert gave them, being made the King of Pixandria’s official advisor alongside King Enlil, and the older man didn’t seem to take well when Sloy, 13 years old with his half-sister flung over his back, got made the King of Pixandria’s official Second in Command after walking into the kingdom on accident.

He also never liked that Sloy made himself the Pixandrian unofficial necromancer, taking bodies from Lyarrah, who Marze called an undesirable influence. Still, Marze speaks gently as he continues with his thoughts, and Sloy listens.

“I understand your feelings, I can’t say that I don’t disagree with many of them.” There’s a second length pause before: “Pixl is still a child, not even near the age that one would start training a prince, let alone a king. And I worry about how he will be raised without traumatizing him further especially with the duties that will be put upon him once he is crowned—let alone, trying to introduce him to the other empires without them thinking we are being facetious—but we must make do. Our Lord and Lady has decreed that Pixl is to be the king, the entire pantheon that we follow have chosen him specifically, it is not on us to question their will.”

And the camaraderie passes because Sloy has never been one to not question the gods he serves. They know it, he knows it, Marze knows it, hell, he’s sure that even the youngest kid in Pixandria—minus the new king—knows it. Sloy questions everything if he feels like he must, and it’s Sloy, he feels he must a lot.

“How old is he?” The question is tighter as it leaves his lips. He wants to know now, he needs to know now. He turns his eyes away from the light of the Vigil, glaring at the other. “Marze, how old is this kid? How old is our new king?”

He’s thankful that there’s no one else out—the people have entered the mourning week, only essential workers, like the beekeepers and the candle makers, are allowed to leave their homes for brief periods throughout the days. He knows that many find the way he and Marze argue uncomfortable; his acts of not heeding the older man’s words and refusing to often cede to Marze’s status as an Elder is just a few of the ways that Sloy has never fully allowed himself to ingratiate with the original settlers of Pixandria; never wanting to forget his home and the mother who sacrificed herself to allow him and his sister to escape.

Marze lets out a soft sigh. “According to Pixl himself, he turned five a few weeks ago. They celebrated it in a seaside village, one that they often visited whenever they traversed the lands.”

Sloy grits his teeth, trying to push down the anger that is threatening to rise. He can tell that the other is just as unhappy with all of this, but at the same time, he can’t force himself to care.

A five year old.

Their new king, a king that is to be crowned in no less than a week, is a five year old.

“What are they thinking?” He asks, looking towards the Vigil before turning his gaze to the Anthill. The gods do not rest there, instead their brand new sacrifice to the throne does—a child-king meant to take the crown and bring Pixandria into a golden age. “How can they think that a five year old should be king?”

He wants to rail against everything, he wants to call the Lord and Lady down so that he can yell at them, but he also knows he can’t. He gets away with a lot; he knows it to his very bones, the Lord and Lady have always been so kind and treated him just as if he was born to them—they’ve helped him take care of his sister (though Cleo was always one to take care of herself, even as a child), and given him a place to call his own, but even he doesn’t think he’ll get away with calling them stupid for electing a five year old to be the new king.

“He passed the Trial of the Desert, he’s earned it.” Marze’s tone is sharp, his angled face shadowed by the splattering of clouds passing by. “You can argue with the fact of his age, but he has shown the Desert that he can survive the harshest of conditions and to argue that is tantamount to treason.”

Sloy huffs, he wants to roll his eyes so bad, but even he’s not that suicidal to do so in front of the other. “I’m not arguing that,” he replies, his tone equally as sharp. He can hear the Atlantean accent that he was born with coming out, and he feels the call of home deep in his bones, but he shakes his head instead and squares his shoulders. “I’m arguing with the idea of putting a five year old through the trial in the first place.”

Marze’s lips purses, eyes darting around.

“What?” Sloy looks to the left, trying to find whatever it was the other was looking at. That—or Marze was attempting to distract him in order to get him to back down. Which wasn’t likely, Sloy didn’t do that when he knew he was right. “What?”

He doesn’t mean to have such a sharp tone with the other, but he’s so annoyed, so on edge.

The other moves forward quickly, grabbing him by the upper arm and pulling him towards where the candles are stored before being lit. The whole place smells of old wax and the various drying plants that will be turned to dyes, and Sloy can remember his first time inside the building, when King Assira brought him and Cleo into the building to create candles for their loved ones who had died.

King Assira died of grief 10 years afterwards, her Queen dying four months beforehand. Ea-Nasir had entered the kingdom, an injured 16 year old fleeing from the violence that had taken his entire homeland following an invasion, only four days after the Queen had passed.

“Why are you grabbing me?” Sloy asks as he pulls himself out of his own grief of having watched so many people he cared about die. “What?”

Marze looks around once more before shaking his head. “You are not to repeat this to anyone ever,” he says sharply. There’s a second where Sloy wants to argue with him before he realizes that he’s never heard the other use the tone he’s using at the moment, and that there’s something different about it.

“Repeat what?”

“You have to promise me Sloy,” Marze says, his tone unchanged. There’s a look in his eyes that spooks Sloy just a bit, but he’s unable to figure out why when Marze speaks again. “I mean this, you must take an oath on your entire family line that you will not repeat a single thing I say to anyone in this world, least of all Pixl.”

He swallows as he stares at the other.

A moment passes between them.

Sloy nods his head once, the movement jerky as he does so. “Marze, I promise,” he says, adding, “I swear it on my sister’s very life, I won’t tell anyone ever.”

The other man stares at him, his wizened body still as he does so. There’s something unnerving about being searched so thoroughly by Marze: though the older man has known him since Sloy was a teenager—which had been hundreds of years ago by now—they have never spent more time together then they needed to, and as far as Sloy knew, hadn’t spent any time trying to get to know the other outside of what they could glean from their few interactions. But this moment, he can feel himself being strung bare in front of the other; as if Marze was trying to figure out a puzzle that he had all the pieces to.

Still, only a few seconds passes before Marze speaks again, his tone low. “Never repeat this, but Our Lord and Lady did not send young Pixl through the Trials of the Desert.” There’s a pause as the other moves an inch away. “In fact, they had not known about him until the Vigil alerted them of his presences by the hidden Thunder Shrine; they were as surprised as the rest of us about this boy and his appearance.”

Sloy doesn’t want to repeat himself—there’s only so many times you can ask what before it gets tiring—but he can’t help the strangled, “What?” that leaves him as he stares in horror at the other.

The Lord and Lady of the Desert knows all that happens; it’s why when he came crawling into Pixandria there had already been a little house set up for him and Cleo; it’s why there’s never a traveler that goes undetected or uncared for when crossing through the sands—it’s why they’re called the Lord and Lady of the Desert instead of just by their titles or the pantheon they are apart of: they’re omniscient, all-knowing, all-seeing when it comes to the desert and it’s kingdoms.

Marze stares a second longer before he repeats, “They didn’t know. They were told by the Vigil itself that the new king was residing in the hidden walls of one of the shrines out in the desert, having proven himself to it to be a true King of the Desert. It was only while we were walking with the army to bring the boy back that they were given any sort of visions referring to him, and even then, they were shrouded in darkness at some points.”

“Why?” Sloy knows the other doesn’t know, the exasperation in Marze’s eyes speak enough words, bt he can’t help himself yet again to ask. “What’s so special about this kid?”

“Neither the Lord nor Lady can tell,” Marze replies with a little shrug. He’s moved back, his body taken a slightly more relaxed stance. He’s still a bit tenser than normal though, and Sloy wonders if he’ll ever be untensed as the years go on with their special kid king. “But upon entering their home shrine to report back to their fellow gods, they were told by The Great Queen of the Nether that the world was changing and that there would be no kings after the boy the Vigil has chosen.”

Sloy manages to just barely hold back the strangled noise that threatens to leave his throat.

What in the Nether did that mean? Sloy wonders as he stares at the other, waiting for anything else to be said. Marze just stares though, his face blank and his eyes filled with that unknown emotion. “What has the Lord and Lady said?” He asks after he realizes the other isn’t going to say anything else, because surely they’ve said something about it.

“Nothing.” Marze looks away, one hand reaching to trace the etchings on the wall. Sloy follows the movement with his eyes, remembering the stories he had been told about them; namely the one where the pictures that cover the wall surrounding the entrance were the story of the start of Pixandria, of the creation of the Vigil, of the First King and his journey into the desert, of the meeting with the Lord and Lady of the Desert, of an ascension from a common man into a god-king who would rule for centuries before taking the trip into the dark unknown in order to better serve his people.

“They’ve said nothing,” Marze continues after a second, “Just that we are to raise him as we would raise our own children, teach him to love his new kingdom, and to try and balance allowing him to be the child he wishes to be as well as the king he is meant to be.”

If there was a way to portray a bunch of question marks—the same amount as the ones that are currently situated above his head, flashing in technicolor—then Sloy would’ve already done so just so Marze could understand how confused he currently is. Unfortunately, as he stares at the other, he realizes that he doesn’t know a magical spell that can do that and so instead, he’s going to have to be vocal about his confusion in such a way that doesn’t alert anyone of their current conversation while at the same time being succinct in what he wants to say.

“What the fuck Marze, that doesn’t make sense.”

Great, yes, exactly what he wants to say.

“Sloy!” The sharp tone turns scolding, a withering glare joining after a second. “Since I know you cannot help yourself, at least watch your language around me.”

He holds his hands up in a placating manner, hoping that the look on his own face is half as apologetic as he’s trying to force himself to be. He’s not particularly apologetic about it—he knows the older man swears when he thinks no one is listening—but at the same time, he tries not to swear around Marze, if mostly because the last time he did that, Lady Dithiyia had scolded him for using ‘perverse language around an Elder’.

“Sorry,” Sloy says the word softly, trying to move past it without needing to really apologize. Instead, he turns his attention back to his concerns. “Our king is a kid, Marze, and we’ve got the vaguest of directions of how to care for him, something that’s hindered by the fact that he’s apparently a really special king.”

“I know Sloy,” Marze sighs, leaning back against the counter. There’s a hunch in his shoulders as the other moves slightly, shifting back and forth as he gets comfortable against the surface. “I don’t know what to say, I don’t know how to solve all this, all I know is that I will continue my duties as I have done since the start, and I will try to care for Pixl as I would any other king .”

Sloy leans back himself, pressing himself against the wall across from Marze. He doesn’t know what to say to that; the other man is possibly the most loyal man in the entire kingdom, and it makes sense that he’d do as asked. Marze would bring Pixandria the sun if it was asked of him, and Sloy knows that he falls short of that, he wants nothing more than to question all of this.

“You don’t have to help,” Marze says after a second, dropping his hands to his side. Sloy looks up to meet the eyes of the older man, the amount of understanding and care in them uncomfortable as he does so. Still, Marze continues, “I understand if you’re not ready to parent anything, you’re still a child in many ways--”

Sloy opens his mouth to argue, only to close it upon the look that the other gives him.

“I’m not talking about the immaturity that you occasionally showcase,” Marze emphasized, “I am talking about the fact that you are, comparatively, still young—granted that’s in terms of those of us blessed with immortality, but still, you don’t need to include yourself into all of this. No one will blame you, the Lord and Lady will understand just as we all will.”

“I’m not leaving this kid to be raised by a bunch of stuffy adults who will teach him how to become a stuffy adult,” Sloy jokes, giving the other a little smirk as he does so. “Plus, who will teach him how to cause trouble?”

There’s a deep, long-suffering sigh. “Sloy.”

“I can’t leave you to do this anyway,” Sloy replies, cutting into the other’s scolding. And he can’t, besides the fact that he would never leave a child fully under Marze’s care since said child would probably come out with anxiety and a healthy dose of being neurotic, he’s got duties to perform for the kingdom and when he had agreed to his position, he swore to commit to those duties with his whole being. He was not a liar. “Not only am I the King’s Second in Command, but I am the entire kingdom’s festival leader—and this kingdom has a festival basically every other weekend, who would lead it if I wasn’t here to read all the little texts that go along with them?”

Marze stares at him, one eyebrow lifted. If Sloy was better at reading people, he’d know exactly what the other was thinking, but he’s not, so all he can do is stare back and let the silence sink into the room. Another second passes before Marze speaks. “Then I guess this is a truce between us, for the good of Pixandria and Pixl.”

“For the kid,” Sloy agrees, giving the other a little nod. “For the young, traumatized, unfortunate, brand new king.”

[theancientcitylibrary]

title: finding safety in the horror of the wild author: theancientcitylibrary rating: teen and up audiences warnings: no archive warnings apply category: gen word count: 829 fandom: empires smp relationship(s): solidaritygaming | jimmy & smallishbeans | joel & pixlriffs | pixl & ldshadowlady | lizzie, characters: ldshadowlady | lizzie, solidaritygaming | jimmy, smallishbeans | joel, pixlriffs | pixl additional tags: au – bigfoot games setting, minor violence, non-graphic violence, minor injuries, summary: It wasn’t a pretty cabin, looking like it had been abandoned long ago, the boarded up windows and dilapidated roof speaking it’s age. There’s a worry, a minor one, that it might not work as a hideout, but honestly—it was something. || or: a camping trip in the middle of the woods, the group find themselves being hunted by something they’ve never seen before. series: bigfoot au || whumptober 2024

link to ao3

Lizzie tightened her grip on the axe, her eyes darting back and forth as she watched the tree lines, waiting. “Are you done yet?” she called out softly, the sound of a breaking branch pulling the words from her lips as she moved closer to the cabin.

It wasn’t a pretty cabin, looking like it had been abandoned long ago, the boarded up windows and dilapidated roof speaking of it’s age. There was a worry, a minor one, that it might not work as a hideout, but honestly—

She gave a quick look towards Joel; he’s knelt in front of the door, his knees on the chipped concrete doorstep, his hands working smoothly as he picks the lock on it. Another look to her sides and she spots both Pix and Jimmy standing around much like herself, each holding a different weapon—they're on edge and desperate to get inside, especially with the sun slowly dipping beneath the horizon. She understands; they need a shelter, any type of shelter will do, regardless of if it's a bit rundown; they can’t do another night out in the snowy weather, not with that thing on their tails.

“Almost,” Joel hissed.

Almost wasn’t good enough for her, and she looked back to tell him so when the door clicked, the noise echoing loudly in the clearing. She tensed, bringing the axe higher up in the air. Though she knew it was only loud because of how quiet everything was, she still readied herself, because if that thing came rushing at them, she’d get as many hits on it as she could before it ran away—or worse, finally managed to kill one of them.

Joel pushed the door a slight bit more, pulling her from her thoughts as he shined his dull torch through the pitch black area. From her location, she can see just the barest of furniture littering the entrance area, nothing of interest. “It’s empty,” he said after a minute. He sniffed the air, lifting his face slightly as he did so. “Stale and empty.”

She nodded. That was good—they needed that, well, not the stale part, but the empty. “Okay, Joel goes first, then Pix with Jimmy, and I’ll go in last,” she said, her voice clear and sharp in the air. “No lights.”

It wouldn't matter, not really. The creature that was hunting them seemed to be able to find them even when they traveled in the dark, but she didn’t want to risk it. Not when their exact location was unknown to them—all they knew was that they had traveled for three days from their first campsite, and that had six days from the main road that led to the nearest town which was a whole week away.

She swallowed as she listened to Joel’s footsteps against the concrete, the door creaking slightly louder as he pushed it open, and then silence. A minute passed in that silence, and Lizzie spent that minute checking out the area around them; there wasn't much, just a few pieces of trash blown there by before Joel softly called out, “Okay, come on in,” and the steps of Pix and Jimmy followed.

Moving backwards, her eyes never leaving the forest, she waited with baited breath for the feel of the building against her back. She was hoping that the steps that they had taken to get the thing off their scent was good enough to give them a days of rest, but she wasn’t sure, and that scared her.

A roar ripped through the air.

Her breath froze in the air, the droplets hanging there as she listened. Every night since they first ran into the creature, they had heard its’ roars right as the sun went down, the noise their only warning of what was coming for them. She swallowed, her back rigid as she waited for any of the other noises that precipitated the creature: the thundering of its’ footsteps through the forest, the sound of breaking branches and howling wolves, the sound of heavy breathing as it lurched closer.

Nothing.

“Lizzie?” A hand touched her, and she fought back the urge to scream, instead turning sharply towards Joel as he moved back an inch. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” she muttered, shaking her head as she gave one final look out to the forest. Somewhere out there is that creature, it’s dark eyes searching in the dark forest for any sign of them. There was a chance that crossing that freezing river could’ve hidden their scent well enough that it would give a few days of space between them and the creature, and there was a chance that this abandoned cabin might offer a safe place to hide out in and recoup from the troubles that they’ve found themselves in, but as the sun continued it’s descent behind the trees, she knew that it wasn’t so. “I shouldn’t be standing here, we’ve got things to do.”

[theancientcitylibrary]

title: the confusing mess of life author: theancientcitylibrary rating: teen and up audiences warnings: no archive warnings apply category: gen word count: 1.612k fandom: empires smp relationship(s): pixlriffs | pixl & ldshadowlady | lizzie characters: ldshadowlady | lizzie, pixlriffs | pixl additional tags: au – role reversal, solidaritygaming | jimmy & ldshadowlady | lizzie are siblings, angst, summary: What if…? The Cod Alliance takes the Wither Rose Alliance place during the Xornoth Arc. || or: Jimmy’s been seduce to the side of darkness, Joel doesn’t think anything’s wrong, Katherine has left the alliance, and Lizzie is struggling alongside Pix in trying to figure out what they can do. series: role reversal au | whumptober 2024

link to ao3

“He’s making stupid choices again,” Lizzie said as she moved about the building, trying to ignore the strangeness of being in Pixandria without either of the others.

It wasn’t that she never had been—not only did her and Pix go back a long way, Pix was the one she went to whenever she needed information on things—but she never went there for a Codfather Alliance meetings without any of the other members.

Yet, as she stared at the other, she knew that they wouldn’t be much help even if they had came.

Katherine had backed out of the Codfather Alliance when Jimmy began to join with that dark shadow that came about so suddenly, and Joel was still acting as if there wasn’t anything wrong with Jimmy—he’s a bit fight happy, that’s all babe—which meant that they had no one else to really turn to.

She had tried to turn to Scott, who had told her that Jimmy had chosen his side in the war (what war, she didn't know), and that he and the others he was working with would deal with it so she could just return to her empire and he was sorry for what had to be done. Lizzie wouldn't be amiss in saying that her urge to hit Scott had been high when she had left the Elven Kingdom, but she had managed to hold it back, leaving with only a scoff and a promise to tell Jimmy how helpful he had been.

That had been nicer, though, then when she had gone to the Wither Rose Alliance, who had just stared at her before rolling their eyes.

“It’s not really our problem,” fWhip had said, Sausage and Gem agreeing with him.

Only Pearl had come to her when she had been leaving Mythland, promising her that if things got too bad, she’d come to help. Not that things weren’t already so bad.

Still, she couldn’t blame them; Sausage and fWhip had never gotten on with Jimmy, and so to ask them for help was a bit of a stupid thing, but she had no where else to go.

“I know,” Pix said after a second, giving a large sigh as he moved to stand. She could all but hear his bones cracking with the movement and she felt a bit bad for the fact that she hadn’t checked on him sooner. “I’ve been looking through books and visiting Shrub for more information, and I’ve gotten a bit farther than last time we talked.”

“Yeah?” She perked. Even if it wasn’t a way to stop Jimmy from being stupid, if it was information that she could use to show Joel that Jimmy was going down a path that he might not be able to be retrieved from, then they might gain another ally in their fight against the creature haunting the world and taking over her brother. “Anything that might stop it?”

Pix frowned, moving to hand her a book off his table. “I don’t think it’s that helpful,” he replied, as she grabbed it from his hands. “But I do believe that it might be a key into figuring some things out.”

Lizzie said nothing as she let her eyes flit over the page, attempting to find whatever it was he was talking about. Thankfully, Pix continued speaking, so she didn’t have to struggle for too long.

“Back a long time ago, during the ends of the last Pixandrian King’s rule, the elves of Rivendell began to experience trouble—trouble that came from a legend of theirs.” The man paused, a furrow in his brow growing as he did so. “A legend that goes back all the way to their early days as an empire, back when their gods supposedly walked among them.”

“What does a legend has to do with my brother acting like an idiot?”

Pix moved, hovering over her shoulder as she came to rest against the table. He leaned his head against her, as her eyes scanned the page. The Pixandrian cursive was near impossible to read, and all she could find were the words speaking of Rivendell, Gods gone amok, trouble, do not befriend; nothing that she could discern to be helpful.

“It was said that the Rivendellian god called Exor began to take over the soul of the first Rivendellian king’s brother, turning the man against his brother as Exor’s brother, the once powerful god-king Aeor, had been turned against him by the other gods during the Age of Gods. As Exor took over the Duke’s soul, he began to lash out in similar ways as Jimmy currently is—including attacking his family.”

L izzie stared at him. “So you think a Rivendellian god is controlling my brother?” Did she leave Pix alone for too lon g and now the man had gone insane? As far as she remembered, it had only been about two weeks since her last visit , surely that wasn't enough time to completely lose the guy to all the dusty and sandy books.

“No, no, nothing like that,” Pix said as he moved away a bit, his eyes scanning over the table. He picked up another book and handed it to her, taking the other one from her hands. He turned back to the table, hands moving over different books as he spoke. “No, I believe based on the history present, that Exor can only control those of the Rivendellian royal family blood line; probably because it’s likely that Aeor as god-king took on a consort and sired a child and it’s easiest to take control of one who’s blood you share—no, I believe that the former heir to the throne, Xornoth, is in thrall of Exor and is using his powers to exhort control onto other empires, including Jimmy.”

“Okay.” She held the book—another diary from a Pixandrian king long gone from this world—in front of her, wondering how she could ask the question on her mind. Thankfully, she had no compunction about being blunt, and so she cleared her throat, looked Pix straight in the face and asked, “Who the hell is Xornoth?”

Pix paused in his movements, turning to look at her in confusion.

“You don’t remember Xornoth?”

“I have no clue who Xornoth is,” Lizzie said sharply. She didn't mean to be rude, and she was sure the other didn't take offense to her tone, but still, she felt bad—Pix was the only one being helpful, and while he wouldn't stop being helpful if she snapped at him a couple times, she still didn't want to be taking her problems out on him. Taking a deep breath before she spoke again, she continued with, “And I have no clue why he’d want my brother as one under his control.”

“Oh,” Pix sighed deeply, dropping his head into his hands. “I always forget that despite being around the same age, you weren’t crowned at the time.”

“Pix, what are you talking about?”

“Back when I was first crowned as King of Pixandria—that was about less than a few months after my parents and I found you and Jimmy wandering—the Kingdom of Rivendell had two royal princes. Scott, our fellow emperor, and an older brother, Xornoth.” Pix moved again, but this time to a bookshelf with half the books missing. They were most likely the ones strewn about the royal home, but Lizzie said nothing about it as she waited for more information. “But, shortly after I finally finished all my introductory assignments and was about to be introduced to the former emperors of that time—about a month before I invited you and Jimmy to live with me here—Pixandria received a missive from Rivendell, telling us of the deaths of the King, Queen, and heir, and the crowning of Scott.”

“You think there’s more to it?” Lizzie leaned forwards. She barely remembered that time—at least, she tried not to think of it. Her and Jimmy had been struggling up on land, and while their necklaces full of sea water helped them, they found that the land was just as cruel as the ocean was to a couple of orphans. It was only Pix and his parents that had given them hope, and eventually a home.

P ix nodded. “I believe that, much as their ancestor, Xornoth fell prey to the darkness that Exor lured men in with, and upon becoming his host, began attacking Rivendell.” There was another pause before Pix said softly, “I also believe that much like the supposed other times this had happened, Exor has been taking control of weaker minded people—nothing against Jimmy of course, but from what I can tell from these written notes of my predecessors, Exor feeds on those with insecurities, and there is nothing more insecure than a man in a fight with two more powerful enemies who’s struggling to start up a new empire away from the home that had raised him.”

Lizzie frowned. She hadn’t wanted Jimmy to leave the Ocean Empire; not only was she just starting the rebuilding process of the entire empire that was their mothers', but Jimmy was still young and stupid and brash when confronted with things—she was sure that if he had left, he’d start a war.

And she had been right.

Within six months of leaving to start the Cod Empire, he had started a war with his next door neighbor, and now, apparently, gotten possessed or something by the host of an evil god.

“This sounds so stupid,” she muttered to herself as she dropped onto the couch.

[theancientcitylibrary]

title: the case of missing deputy jimmy solidarity-shadow author: theancientcitylibrary rating: teen and up audiences warnings: no archive warnings apply category: gen word count: 4.698k fandom: empires smp relationship(s): solidaritygaming | jimmy & ldshadowlady | lizzie, solidaritygaming | jimmy & goodtimeswithscar | scar characters: geminitay | gem additional tags: alternate universe, reddit post fic, r/unsolvedmysteries, write up format, additional warnings in notes summary: a write up on the mysterious disappearance of deputy jimmy solidarity-shadow by one u/bighatebutterflies || or out on a normal call, 24 year old james ‘jimmy’ solidarity-shadow was ready to talk with the encampment that had made it’s home on the outskirts of tumble town, but what should’ve been a normal call ended in what is considered Imperia’s largest mystery. series: jizzie serial killer au | whumptober 2024

link to ao3

The Case of Missing Deputy Jimmy Solidarity-Shadow. u/bighatbutterflies

Out on a normal call, 24 year old James ‘Jimmy’ Solidarity-Shadow was ready to talk with the encampment that had made it’s home on the outskirts of Tumble Town. As a member of the Imperia Legal Headquarter: Subdivision 9, Jimmy was often the one who went out to talk with the group of homeless people as he had once been one of them before finding his place in society. But what should’ve been a normal call ended in what is considered Imperia’s largest mystery.

The Background:

On the outskirts of Imperia lies Tumble Town, formally known as Subdivision 9 when talking about it as a legal standpoint. It’s a quaint little town that still holds it’s charm from the era of cowboys and ravager herders. Most people in Tumble Town has one claim to fame, and that is that their family had been there to help the founding of said town with it’s founder, Solidarity [no relation to our missing person as far as I could tell]. As it was, the town was mostly quiet and the biggest scandal was when there was a crackdown on the “Tumble Town Bandits”, a local gang of kids who wandered around and participated in minor crime such as breaking and entering and stealing from the local store. It was actually Jimmy who had broken the case; it was one of his first and, according to many, what helped him rise above the stigma attached to Jimmy from childhood.

Jimmy had always wanted to be a member of the sheriff’s department, his older sister, 30 year old Elizabeth ‘Lizzie’ Shadow said when interviewed two weeks after his disappearance. It hadn’t mattered that to many he was considered a criminal due to our parents, he wanted to see justice be served.

Jimmy had a past, or well, better put, his parents did.

Before Jimmy was born, his parents had founded Ocean Empire—an infamous cult that committed several large-scaled ecological terrorist attacks on the city of Imperia. It’s mission was simple, according to it’s leader, Aquis Shadow; they wanted the government of Imperia to answer for the crimes committed against the oceans. While their methods were outrageous, it was impossible to argue that they were wrong; in the years preceding the creation of Ocean Empire, Imperia had began dumping over 100 tonnes of garbage and toxic waste into the rivers, oceans, and lakes.

Still, Ocean Empire had mostly been a group of friends who got together to peacefully protest in front of large companies such as Rivendell Corp, and the NHO. That was before Aquis Shadow became engaged with foreign extremist, Rutos.

A little backstory on him for those who don’t know, Rutos was one of the most infamous terrorist that came out of the Riyah Shama—the group that broke from Imperia to create their own country in the desert. He was wanted to several attacks on the Imperia government alongside former President Aeor Major’s brother, Exor Major.

Back to Jimmy.

Jimmy was born six years after his eldest sister, and he was a surprise baby. His mother had suffered some issues bringing Lizzie Shadow into the world and was not sure that she could carry anymore children. Not much is known about Jimmy’s younger years besides that which Lizzie deigned to share during the interviews following her brother’s disappearance, but from what we can tell, he had a fairly normal childhood considering the circumstances. His parents had him home-schooled among the other children of Ocean Empire, and he did pretty okay throughout it.

His sister said that Jimmy was more sport oriented than reading, but that he was a bright child who brought joy to everyone who interacted with him.

As he aged, Jimmy started to find his place in his parent’s cult, being something of a tattletale who believed, unlike his parents, in the letter of the law. Of course, all this would come crashing down as when he was only 6 years old, his mother was assassinated and his father went missing himself. Ocean Empire began to crumble following the lost of it’s leaders, and many of the people who had once been fervent members of the cult began to say that they had been manipulated into staying; many former members came out and said that Aquis and Rutos had ruled Ocean Empire through fear and subjugation.

The crumbling of their home, and the slandering of their parent’s names, left 12 year old Lizzie and 6 year old Jimmy as unwanted orphans, with no one feeling comfortable taking them in due to their parent’s legacy. It is unknown what happened to them during this time period as neither sibling ever answered when asked, but it is supposed that they, like many unwanted orphans, found themselves living on the streets. At some point, Lizzie entered university in the town of Animalia, bringing Jimmy along. He was enrolled in Animalia’s school district from the time he was 13 to 18, where he graduated with honors, and then entered the local university where he majored in criminal law.

At 20, Jimmy graduated from Animalia’s university and began to look for a position in the Imperia Legal Headquarters. For those who don’t know, Imperia Legal Headquarters handle the assignment of all the officers of law, meting them out to the different districts of Imperia. This was probably hard for Jimmy, who would’ve struggled against his family name, but after a few short months, he was accepted as an officer and sent to the Tumble Town district.

The Disappearance:

At 19:46, a little over an hour after the sun had gone down, the Tumble Town department received a call about rowdiness at the encampment that existed on the outskirts of town. This was a normal occurrence, and the leader of the department (who’s name I am unable to find) decided to send out Jimmy.

As previously stated, this was normal as well—Jimmy was kind to those who lived in the encampment and was often able to break up any trouble before it began. What wasn’t normal was that Jimmy had just been at the encampment and had, supposedly, gotten them to head off as it was starting to enter the colder months, and he hadn’t been expecting them back for a couple more months.

Assuming that it was a few stragglers that had gotten lost, Jimmy headed out. A few members of the department, most notably Deputy Goodtimes, state that Jimmy did so brightly.

Deputy Goodtimes: Jimmy was a little worried about anyone freezing—if you didn’t know, the desert and mesa gets really cold at night—but otherwisely, he was always happy about going down there and talking with them. He always said that they were good people who had hit a hard rock and all they needed was someone to believe in them. --The Tumble Town Gazette, a week after Jimmy went missing.

Information gets a little hard to find, as the LE have not released most information regarding the case, which is understandable to a point given that it’s still an open case, but still. The BPS records have never been released but from what I could piece together by the information shared, Jimmy left the department parking lot at 19:50, and headed down the Left Road, heading towards Lost Forest. A local’s DocRing has his department issued car passing by Overgrown Street at 20:15, and that is, as far as we know, the last sighting of Jimmy.

Unlike many other disappearances, Jimmy was missed nearly immediately. After less than a half-hour after he left the department, another officer went out to look for him as he had not responded to any correspondence attempts made. The officer, currently unnamed but implied to have been Deputy Goodtimes, went out to the location given and found Jimmy’s car empty, with the car door open, upon which he called it in. The entire department basically emptied out and headed towards the forest, but even with this act, it was considered by many to be too late.

As it was already late when Jimmy had left, the department found themselves struggling to find any evidence of what happened in the dark of the night, but what was found was nothing special.

The Investigation and Evidence:

The investigation consisted of six long weeks of searching through the Lost Forest and the surrounding land. Over 2500 people came out to help, which was about more than two-thirds of the population of Tumble Town, and there was 10 search wolves that participated as well. The head of the department asked for help from the ILH, but I am unable to find if any ILH Agents were sent out or not.

The area searched was about four chunks worth of the forest and they spent basically all day and night out there, with only a few pieces of evidence being found (see evidence section).

According to a few of the members of the public search and rescue group, the search party was hindered by the lack of experience that the department held; it was said that they had no idea how to cut the different chunks up evenly, how to properly traverse the terrain of the forest, and struggled to keep the volunteers organized. The department argues that the volunteers were blowing things out of proportion.

Not a lot of evidence was found in the car or around it, but despite reports there was some evidence found.

1. A few bright orange and magenta colored fibers were found snagged on the edge of the passenger side of the vehicle. I’ve not been able to find any records of it matching any known fabrics, and the testing was pretty inconclusive as to if there was any DNA left behind on it. (source: 1 2 3)

2. A partial fingerprint that has never matched to anyone. As far as I can tell, they checked it against the Imperia Fingerprint Database which everyone after the age of 18 has to join but I’m not sure if the newspaper was correct or not as I can only find one source for this. (source: 1)

3. A boot/shoe print from someone other than Deputy Jimmy. From my sources, it seems as if it’s from a size 10 men’s shoe, either a work-boot or a pair of hiking shoes. (source: 1 2)

4. A torn piece of paper on the edge of the forest where Deputy Jimmy had parked his car. (source: 1 2)

5. A long drag mark near the river.* (source: 1 2)

Theories and suspects:

There’s not a lot here, mainly because of the remote location that Deputy Jimmy went missing from, but also because all testing has been private, and I can find no records of the information anywhere. The few theories out there are mainly from online forums and word of mouth from the area.

Theory 1: He ran away.

This is the most widely believed one due to the fact that Jimmy suffered a lot due to his name, and while things were looking up thanks to his promotion at work, it didn’t change that his personal life was still troubled. According to one of his neighbors, he had had a fight with his sister just a few days before his disappearance, a fight which had ended with slamming doors and changed behavior. As they had a close relationship, it was considered abnormal for them to argue, and there’s the belief that the argument, which was unheard of by the neighbor, left Jimmy so unnerved that he decided that he had to get away.

Some believe that it was because Jimmy had just gotten a promotion that had also included a pay raise that it was about money. As Lizzie had never held a (legal) job, it was supposed that since the Imperia government had just denied her motion for the money left behind by her parents to finally be released to her, that she was asking for money and that Jimmy was getting tired of helping her. While there are no records of Lizzie living with him, neighbors had said that she would spend upwards of 7 days out of the 12 in a week, and more than 8 out of 13 months with him in his small apartment.

This theory is predicated on the belief that Jimmy would leave everything he had gained behind to escape his sister, who many have called ‘controlling’, ‘obsessive’, and ‘stuck in the past’. Though, in the opinions of his department partner, Deputy Goodtimes, he would never do, and that any argument he may have had with his sister wouldn’t be out of the ordinary as they were like typical siblings.

I have trouble believing this one myself as it doesn’t answer the question of if he was really planning on leaving everything behind, why did he wait to go out on a call instead of during the time in which he was working the beat and could’ve done so more easily? Deputy Jimmy’s daily schedule included a four hour window in which he would’ve had time to disappear without immediately rising suspicions. There’s also the knowledge that none of his personal accounts have been touched in the time since he went missing, including his bank account which holds a good amount of money that he was saving up to move into a house somewhere in Tumble Town.

Theory 2: He was the victim of foul play from an encampment member.

Jimmy had, over his time as part of the department, multiple interactions with the encampment that made it’s home on the edge of Tumble Town near the Lost Forest. A group that considers itself “free-roamers” over homeless, they normally don’t find themselves in trouble with the law despite the fact that what they’re doing is considered illegal, but there have been several arrests made on members who reacted violently in the past to being asked to move. One such incident, Deputy Jimmy had presided over.

A month into his joining of the department, Jimmy had found himself on a call out to the encampment area near the edge of Lost Forest and the start of Grimmish Waterway. What was supposed to be a simple call for them to pack up and leave ended in a fight between Jimmy and two different members of the encampment. His partner, Deputy Goodtimes, said that the fight was because of miscommunication and not an act of aggression, and that by time they had left the encampment, all issues had been resolved.

We can’t ignore, though, that encampments such as the one that made it’s home in the Lost Forest often consisted of people who failed to comply with societies laws and that there have been several cases across Imperia where encampment members have been arrested for violent behavior.

Theory 3: He was assassinated due to his family’s past/His family’s history caused his disappearance.

Despite it sounding like one, it’s not exactly a fringe theory, though it does hinge on the belief that the ILH-slash-other government agencies found Jimmy’s rise in the Sheriff’s department a threat. The main meat of the theory goes that the ILH/government tried to railroad Jimmy in order to keep him a low-level grunt working the beat, and that when the Sheriff elected to promote Jimmy to deputy, he did so without the consent of the ILH. This caused issues and, after some waffling back and forth, the ILH sent out an assassin from the ML-SD, a special sector of the military that people believe perform assassinations for the government.

The ILH and the Imperia Prime Minister have stated that they find this theory in bad taste as “the Imperia government was overjoyed when Deputy Solidarity-Shadow moved away from his parents’ terror-filled legacy, and it finds his disappearance one that we hope will be solved when we find Deputy Solidarity-Shadow safely.”.

While I personally don’t know if I believe this one, it has good bones and does explain the lack of evidence present, especially since we all know that the government is shady, and have been found committing assassinations before, even teaming up with suspected terrorists in an effort to bring down the Riyah Shama. If you want a more in depth reading about our government, u/downwiththepoe has written several good write ups on crimes committed by the Imperia government, including writing one on this theory (here) about Deputy Jimmy. Their write up also includes a really good write up on if the ML-SD could actually be an assassin guild hiding in our military.

Theory 4: He was the victim of “The Slayer”, a supposed serial killer who has killed in several different districts.

For those who don’t know, “The Slayer” is a nickname given to a supposed serial killer who, if actually real, has killed over 25 people.

The first victims of “The Slayer” was found near the Mezalean Mesa. In the ruins of an ancient city, three archaeologists were found inside their campsite with their throats cut. Most LE believe that it was a robbery by a group of wandering Mesa people, but there are some who believe that this was the start of “The Slayer’s” spree. If said people are correct, the killer would go on to attack and leave bodies throughout the 26 districts of Imperia; most notably, three in Overgrown City, two in Animalia, six in Myth Land, two in Sanctuary, four in Dawn, and five in Stratos. There are varying theories on who “The Slayer” could be if they really exist, and they range from a terrorist from the Riyah Shama to it being a supernatural entity awoken by the first three victims. u/SoupAndOwengeJuice did a very thorough write up on “The Slayer” a few weeks ago (here) if you want a more in-depth exploration of that.

As for how it connects to Deputy Jimmy, since most of “The Slayer’s” victims were supposedly taken from secluded locations, and/or found in secluded locations, there are some who believe that the call that got Jimmy to head out to the encampment area was a false call by “The Slayer” intended to lure a LE out to the forest. Why “The Slayer” would want to do that is normally not mentioned, though some believe that it could be their way of branching out from their normal victim profile, or that said killer is showing signs of escalating in it’s attacks by choosing a victim who was a member of the ILH.

The biggest issue with this theory is that there isn’t much evidence, either to support that “The Slayer” was involved or that they even exist. Again, I defer you to u/SoupAndOwengeJuice’s excellent write up as that goes more into detail.

Theory 5: He was the victim of “The Sea-Witch”, another supposed serial killer who has also killed in several different districts.

“The Sea-Witch” is a nickname given to a supposed serial killer who, if actually real, has killed over 20 people. The ILH denies that any such killer exists but those who believes that “The Sea-Witch” might be Imperia’s first, and only, female serial killer.

First found killing during a peaceful time nearly 15 years ago, "The Sea-Witch" began her spree in the town of Stratos, where the body of a lawyer was found in the aqueducts near the border. Shortly later, another body, this time a shop-owner was found near the river. Both times, the ILH explained that they were individual deaths caused by ruffians in the area—something that Stratos is known to have in that area, though there were reports from various witness that claim, that days before the murders,

a bio-luminescent women walked out of the river, her eyes dark as she lead a child out of the river and into the local wild. her skin was a pale blue and her hair a mix of navy and blue strands.

Several residents of the neighborhood where the bodies were found believe this was the murderer in the two cases. Most in Stratos came to believe that when another two murders happened; an innkeeper who owned a location two roads from where the first victim was found, and a farmer who lived on the outskirts of town.

More murders would be associated with "The Sea-Witch" but in other locations, mainly Chromia, Gobland, and Glimmer Grove. All these bodies would, like those from Stratos, be found near a body of water not far from where the victim had either worked and/or lived, all would be found with "teeth-like" marks alongside parts, and many would be followed by the story of a bio-luminescent woman coming out of the nearest river. The major difference though, between these later bodies and the first few, would be that the later bodies would be held for longer—no longer were the kills and minor desecration all happening within a few hours, instead the kills and desecration would take place in an undetermined location and the victim brought back after the killer was done with what they were doing.

I did a better, more thorough deep dive on "The Sea-Witch" a few years ago (here) if you want to read my full thoughts and opinions on this supposed serial killer, and also get all the gory details (tw: canniablism).

Anyway, with all victims being found, and taken, directly from areas near waterways, many believe that “The Sea-Witch” abducted Jimmy and has yet to release the body, as there is a river that runs right through the area near where Jimmy went missing.

This theory is my favourite of all the popular theories surrounding Jimmy's disappearance, as it was getting around the time for "The Sea-Witch" to grab someone after her last victim, Jimmy was in an isolated area around the time that she often grabbed people, and that he was, much like her last victim, a member of the local law enforcement. The two biggest issue is that Jimmy doesn't fit her victim profile, and if she did grab him, then it's a sign that she's escalating in her kills, and that if she did grab him, she's been holding onto the body for a lot longer than she's ever held onto anyone else.

The Conclusion:

Jimmy has been missing for now over a year and a half, and his friends have never given up hope at finding him even if the ILH seemingly have. His work partner, Deputy Goodtimes, still patrols around the area that Jimmy went missing, hoping to find a clue that was missed in the initial search; his other co-workers go out to the forest every month to do a basic search for not only clues but any sign of him. Those from his school continue to put up posters, and those from his apartment building have paid off his rent since he went missing so that, if he ever shows up again, all of his stuff is exactly as he left it.

His sister, unfortunately, has fallen from public view. Besides the few interviews that she did in the beginning, it has been impossible to find information on what she has done, though we do know that she set up a reward for any information for Jimmy and joined in on every search that the Tumble Town department went on.

When Jimmy was last seen, he was wearing his Imperia-issued Tumble Town Deputy uniform, which included a department issued hat, and he was carrying his department issued bow with at least 32 arrows, and he had his department issued iron sword. Further description from his missing poster is as stated: Jimmy stood 6'5, had blond hair, and blue eyes; he has a little scar across his left chin from a childhood accident, and spoke in an Oceanic accent.

If anyone has seen him, please contact the Tumble Town Sheriff's Department at Comm-250622.

Sources: https://www.djss.misssing.imperia/ https://www.tumbletownsd.imperia/ https://www.imperiasmissings.imperia/jimmy_solidarity.html https://stratosnewsguard.imperia/MISSING_deputy_tumble_town https://thedawngazette.imperia/world/tumble_town/Missing_Deputy.htm https://thedawngazette.imperia/local/crime/local_fisher_found_deceased.htm [...]

Comments: sort by: Best

u/SoupAndOwengeJuice:

thanks so much for mentioning our write up, especially since we love all of yours! i, soup, have to agree with you, i don’t think it was the slayer, it doesn’t really fit his mo to call someone out to them; owenge, on the other hand, does think it was the slayer as there’ve been signs of escalation in their mo for a little bit, including attacking a security guard in stratos before killing his last victim.

Last edited: 0900, 13/13/90

u/bighatbutterflies:

aww thanks! i love the podcast you guys do so when i saw you guys were adding your research and podcast scripts as write ups here in my fave threads i couldn’t help but take a peek. kinda amazing that you guys were working on one that kinda connected with one i was working on!

u/downwiththepoe:

thanks for including me in this write up u/bighatbutterflies – you know my personal opinion on this from my write up, i swear in my belief that it was the gov who called a hit. another good point to that that i didn't include in my own write up was that the sheriff who promoted deputy solidarity actually went missing a few months after the deputy did.

u/bighatbutterflies:

omg your kidding me right?? i couldn't even find his name and you're over here with a whole other incident!

u/downwiththepoe:

yeah i'm working on a write up now but his name was sheriff riffs, can't find his first name, and he went missing while going to meet up with deputy solidarity's sister, who also went missing. it's all really hush hush right now but my sources are telling me that poor guy made a mistake that's cost him his life and he was going to meet with deputy's sister to tell her everything he knew and the gov made sure that it didn't happen

u/thecleaninglady:

it's absolutely bonkers that i work in the ILH and i haven't ever heard of this case. i feel so bad for his sister wherever she is

u/downwiththepoe:

she’s probably hidden in an ilh building, you should try to find her

u/thecleaninglady:

I’m not doing that

u/Sorcerer_Supreme:

I’m with the poeman, you should absolutely do that!

u/thecleaninglady:

I’m not doing that sorce

u/ Sorcerer_Supreme:

I bet he got horribly murdered! He seems like the type of person to get horribly murdered!

u/bighatbutterflies:

that’s not a nice thing to say at all sorcerer, especially about someone you don’t know

u/thecleaninglady:

sorce, you’ve got to stop saying that in every unsolved casefile that gets posted

u/Sorcerer_Supreme:

sorry cleaninglady! I can’t help myself!

u/bOnkstickalchemist:

I think that the ghost killer is the best option, at least for deputy jimmy, ghost killers can kill pretty quickly and painlessly

u/bighatbutterflies:

what does this even mean??

u/thelightningwitch:

that ghost can kill quickly?

u/bighatbutterflies:

????

u/peskybirdbrain:

everyone knows that jimmy is okay

u/bighatbutterflies:

and how do you know that??

u/peskybirdbrain:

jimmy says so when he calls me every month

u/Quite_Simple:

I have a friend who works in the department, and he believes that Deputy Jimmy’s kidnapping was an inside job. Scar says that they were working that angle before the former Sheriff Pixl Riffs went missing.

u/bighatbutterflies:

‘Scar’, you mean Deputy Goodtimes?

u/Quite_Simple:

Er, I suppose.

u/peskybirdbrain:

do you not even know the name of your friend?

u/Quite_Simple:

Of course I do, just his last name has never come up!

u/bighatbutterflies:

Can you ask him if it’s okay if I dm you so that I can ask some more questions? I wanted to get in contact with Deputy Goodtimes but the interim sheriff said that he was placed on leave.

u/Quite_Simple:

Scar says that you can do that and more, he wants to push this case to the forefront again as he thinks it's possible to find Jimmy

[theancientcitylibrary]

absolutely gutted but I'm going to be too busy prepping for moving to update anything today. ill stay to get it out tomorrow before I lose internet but if I don't, I'll be back next week with something.

[theancientcitylibrary]

I spent the entire weekend playing Stardew and Minecraft and I feel so rested so time to cut my teeth on chapter five. Hopefully I'll steer clear of bees this week

[theancientcitylibrary]

I got chapter four of my fic done and posted and I'm so happy, I thought the bees were going to win and defeat me this week but they didn't.

[theancientcitylibrary]

because I saw that this just wasn't posted elsewhere???

[theancientcitylibrary]

if i had a nickel for each time a hermitcraft recap member played a necromancer, i'd have two nickels which isn't a lot but it's weird that it's happened twice.

[boonbeenblade]

Pix: "Let me go find some bones."

Sausage: "Oh, wait, I could give you my bone!"

Pix: "It's like we never left."

Sausage: "Here, allow me to bone you!"

Pix: "Not for the first time."

Sausage: "And certainly not the last."

The more things change...