Chapter Text
2.1
“So this is the infamous skyblock I’ve heard so much about,” Schpood mutters. It is not as if Saparata wouldn’t have been able to hear him, the other was barely an inch away. Ish responds back, “Actually, this is a variant of Skyblock called one black. It is quite obvious as to why.” It was very obvious as to why considering they were currently trying to balance seven people on one block. It was a pleasant surprise to see Ish among them. A majority of the time Ish didn’t loop with them when they went to other worlds, they were normally left in the hands of the local Anchor.
Schpood lets out a half-scoff, “Yeah, no shit Ish.” Turntap was the calmest, keeping a close arm wrapped on Benji and having Sidefall piggy backing off him. Ish just hums, “We have to break the block to continue.”
“Are you insane-”
~
“I hate this.”
“I know Schpood.”
“This Sucks.”
“I’m aware, Schpood.”
~
Ish stares blankly, Turntap seems to agree with the storyteller as they stare at the quartz and sandstone building before them, almost a mirror of the architecture from Westhelm. “How did you even do this?” The storyteller speaks in a mild shock. It's amusing and humbling that the storyteller who witnesses hundreds still becomes shocked even by things that have happened and had things like this likely happen again before. Yet he lives within the shock as thought it was the first time.
Schpood just smirks at the reaction of Ish. Saparata decided to break the illusion, “He had the supplies in his pocket, but the building was all him.” Ish frowns while Turntap raises an eye and Schpood scowls. Saparata raises an eyebrow and then turns around to keep an eye on Benji. It was a silent thing they all took turns rotating on, in the beginning it had been a suicide watch more then merely looking over each other like it was nowadays.
It was silent before the three of them before Turntap turned to Ish, “So, you become the force once?” and Ish lit up before going onto a tangent. Saparata chose to instead keep Sidefall from terrorizing the sheep.
~
“Do you think we could bring the one block with us?”
“Not a bad Idea Turntap! I can only imagine the ways this would benefit Westhelm.”
“Don’t forget about the Covenant.”
“I really don’t see how you two could even manage to grab the one block.”
“I mean- our pockets are infinite? I hear one ground carries around an entire ship with them. Like a floating sea-vessel, war ship. Not to mention the Star wars group regularly carries around various vessels. Surely we could bring an Island?”
“..”
“Good point Rata! Knew we could count on you!”
“I fear the future of Pandora.”
~
The island, or rather Islands, were beautiful. There were a total of five of them. They had decided to base the islands off the original lands. Snow fell almost always on the northern most, it was the highest in elevation and the walkbridge between it and the lush jungle was tedious. The Jungle on the other hand was the largest of the Islands, overflowing with life and flora. There were several large trees tucking away hidden houses and animal pens, covering the Island in shadow, but were illuminated by the hanging, swaying Lanterns. Several waters run from the Island into the void. The Plains was where most of the growing green houses remained, with a large tavern that Ish, in a rare case, had insisted upon. He found great amusement in standing behind the bar and mixing up drinks. Benji carved the deadlands, the center where the oneblock lay with a detail that spoke of memory. But it was Saparata who built the land within the sandy dunes of the Sand Island.
He carved the temple and buildings in between a mix of Westhelm and Theria. He built a bathhouse that was more in Westhelm's nature with large pools, but the structure of the towers were in Theria’s likeness. But the meeting hall was built in the shape of his vacation home- the vacation home that only formed after he returned from war. He could see the worried looks in the beginning and the understanding that came after. He could even see Schpoods amusement and pride at the miniature coliseum he built in similarity to Westhelm's own.
It was liberating.
Saparata smiles, “Yeah, this.. This is home.”
It was their home.
2.2
“This is an outrage!” Fluxion's voice calls out. Something inside of Saparata delights at it, the other part is whimpering like a wounded animal. Saparata has gotten good at both indulging and soothing both parts of him. Saparata eyes drift away from the black haired male.
Schpoods voice comes across sharply, “Maybe stop sucking, purple boy.” Then Fluxion lets out a wordless scream of rage. Saparata can’t stop the barking laugh that leaves him. Loops like these are balm to his soul, but in other moments they feel more like a curse. This is not one of those moments.
Saparata turns with a grin to the chat, “So what we’ve learned, Chat, is that despite being the leader of the conspiracy, Fluxion sucks at playing imposter-” Fluxion's voice cuts through, “I am perfectly fine at playing imposter! It's just Schpood and Spyder keep targeting me!” For a minute, Fluxions mic cuts during his shouting. That only gets the rest of the group to break into laughter.
It's still off-putting to not hear Lingiuni as Lingiuni. It reminds him of when he first ran into Mario or that time Mario and Linguini swapped places. Now that had been an interesting loop.
“-Heya Saps, don’t you have to go soon?” Cynika’s voice sounds through the speakers that snaps back Saparata’s attention. He quickly glances at the analog clock reading ‘3:47’ and speaks aloud half mindedly, “Yeah actually, I need to pick my husband up at the airport in about half an hour. I should shut down the stream.”
That was quite clearly the wrong sentence of words to say as the chat exploded before him. What had once been the few messages sent to and from his viewers suddenly became a demand for answers and sputtering all across the discord group. Thomas’s voice is somehow the loudest, “YOU’RE MARRIED!? WHEN WHERE WHY-” It doesn’t help that Schpood is just there laughing. Saparata depans. Although he can’t blame the man, this was his mess up. The remnants of the previous loop where Turntap was his lord husband shined though, he really should have broken that habit before this loop.
Fuck it. He shrugs, “Yeah, I’m married, guess it didn’t really turn up. Me and him try to keep it under wraps-"" It's a guy-""One, rude. Two, yes. Three, I really need to end the stream soon, I’ve got to pick him up. I guess that's it, Chat! I’ll talk to you later!” He attempts to avoid the confrontation from his friends and chat as quickly ends said stream and shuts everything down.
Turntap doesn’t even say anything other than offering a marriage agreement to him after hearing the story.
(Saparata signs it just for the hell of it. He makes his once white-lie a truth. Still! His twitter was imploding on itself.)
2.3
“Huh, you aren’t Cassandra.”
Benji feels the ping hit suddenly and winces. The god before him, Apollo grins, seemingly sheepish in nature. Benji feels light headed, dizzy perhaps is a more correct word to use, as he slowly sorts through the memories that smack into him, stumbling over his words as he attempts to speak, “I… I don’t believe I am.. Lord Apollo?” The gods name comes out more as a question then and Benji can’t help but remember Elysium's elder priests who would stare at him in disdain if he did not complete a ceremony improperly. The god suddenly shifts the once perfect golden hair and scarless toned body into a more lean, acne covered face with rough curly brown hair. It reminds Benji almost of Ish and that sends a pang through his heart.
Apollo claps his hands together with a wide grin, “Right! My name is Apollo, but please call me Lester. I suppose it's quite obvious that I’m loopy?” Benji nods and dusts himself, “Right- I uh.. My name's Benji, I suppose I’m Loopy as well….. I think…. Shouldn’t there be someone to anchor us?” He winces at his tone of words. Ap-Lester just lets out a small laugh and his eyes soften alongside his voice, “You’re new-new to this aren’t you?” Benji winces, “I do suppose it is obvious.. This is… I think my fifth or six loop outside my..’Canon’ loop.” Apollo whistles as he takes a step back.
Then the sun god frowns, “Shit, how long have you been looping? Looping as Cassandra before your hundredth outside loop can’t be good.” Benji has to consider the question. A few of the other loopers he’s been with expressed similar shock, still Benji answers the god as best he can, “I believe I’ve spent around six-hundred, fifty-two loops in my home loop. I’ve yet to experience what others refer to as a.. ‘Hub loop’” The god goes dead still and the heat of the sun is almost burning before it cools as Lester breathes out, he seems to mumble words that Benji cannot make out for a few minutes before turning back to him with a rather large grin, “Right! I hope you don’t mind me sticking around. My blessings tend to semi-permanently linger on people, so I’m going to teach you how to better deal with it!And if any other issues pop up, and because this is Greek mythology, they likely will, I’ll do my best to handle them.”
It was….. Relieving. Frankly, having a teacher was life saving. Having a teacher willing to deal with Issues was reassuring.
(It was, but how long would he hold his promise? How long until he left Benji behind? How long until Benji became a burden and no longer useful, no longer able to play his part?)
2.4
Westhelm was beautiful.
Its streets are carved with life and flourish as soldiers and citizens walk together with no regards of differing rank. There is a nod given and passed to the guards who stand at her sides. There are at least three guards who hadn’t been a part of her little group that joined up with. There are sickly glowing grey veins that curl around pillars, almost seeking shade.
Westhelm is brutal.
It's the fact no matter what rank or person, every citizen knows how to use a sword, or begetting that string a bow. Their criminals cross blades, losing either their crimes or their lives for their acts. They do not treat traitors well and are fierce in their hunts for Knight Arturus.
Westhelm is struggling- Atleast by Isla- Pandora’s Standards.
They don’t make crossbows, viewing it as a waste of resources. They don’t trade in coins of iron or gold but instead resources. A restaurant will give a ticket sheet that can be used anywhere when acquiring food. Only those who are strong or a high enough official are gifted netherite or diamond. The rest is earned by a person's own merit.
Jophiel cannot help but think of her own brother's words in regards to the Nations of Yggdrasil. Saparata had been looking over the boat at the time when he spoke, “Pandora speaks in pretty words and underlying threats, Yggdrasil speaks in action. But there's a more dangerous language that a majority of the nations, especially in Westhelm or the Covenant, tend to speak, and that is in Violence.”
Her brother was not wrong. Schpood was soft, gentle with her, almost clumsily so. It was as if he didn’t know how much force it took to break her. There was an awe in him, almost as if he couldn’t believe she was real.
Schpood was dangerous, he was violent, violent in the way that came naturally. He slept with a dagger under his pillow, he tucked swords right under paintings and beneath floor panels. In the middle of the night when an assassin came for her, she saw him. She didn’t let him know she was awake as she crept from her bed when he dragged the would-be-assassin into the hallway. She saw him drive dagger and glass into the man. She watched Schpoods soldiers hold the man down, she watched him fret more over the blood, about what she would think if she saw. She watched him deal with the man quickly and alongside soldier and servant, to clean the mess. Had she not seen the man herself, she would have never thought someone came for her at all.
Schpood was not a kind man to his enemies, to what and who he considered under him’s enemies. Each member of Westhelm was his, were his brothers and sisters, they were people who fought and were bloodied. They had carved Westhelm from survival and life. He mourned when they died when they died like the wolves of the forest did, curled up around their dead and howling. They didn’t bury their dead in the ground, they hauled them over to the Yggdrasil, their life tree and placed them within the hollowed roots of the tree, wrapped in a burial shroud with a wooden sword.
“You have passed this life, cruel and burning, but you lived. You lived, we cannot guarantee your memory, your life, but he can give you an end worthy of warrior, we can bare your memory so long as we live.”
Jophiel was of Tricolor, of Theria’s deserts. She is not of any land of war, any land of true conflict, any land of violence. She did not know war the way those of Yggdrasil did. She did not need to fight for her survival the way they did. There is a guilt to that, a guilt for while she had wanted dresses colored in green, they struggled just for their crops to grow.
In the crisp of night when dinner comes, Schpood stares at her. He stares at her the way he does each of his soldiers, each citizen, even her own brother.
(In the crisp of night, many moons from the moment, he tells her. He speaks of time repeating, he speaks of gods, of Ish. He refers to Pandora’s god so easily, as if the being, the storyteller, was more an annoying friend than the deity who carved life and stone into Yggdrasil and Pandora.
“Whether or not he admits it, he is a prankster.” Schpood states with a grin towards her disbelieving face. “He’s a trickster, but he’s one that remembers. I have little doubt he will remember more than I forget.”
Schpood spoke to her of wars forged and carved by his own hands. He speaks of burning Luminara to the ground, he speaks of cruelty undone by a force that was not him. He does not beg for apologies, he admits that he cannot completely regret the action. She stabs him. He laughs.
It later becomes a thing between them, she’ll tackle him and they’ll wrangle and wrestle. She comes to understand Schpood once again. She comes to understand her brother and his secrets and she holds him tight when he whispers. She snarks and he bites back.
“We are all each other has,” Saparata states, “I bite back at their snark and comments, but out of all us, me and Benji are the only ones with a saner moral sense. But I’m the only looper who forcibly holds them accountable here. Ish does sometimes aswell, but thats only when they truly take it to far.”
“And setting the entirety of Pandora ablaze?” Jophiel cannot stop the almost morbid curiosity, a half-dead pang in her, wondering what happened to tricolor.
Her brother, her time traveling brother pauses and then slowly speaks, “No, not entirely. From what Benji and Sidefall confirmed it was truly only the Northern island that suffered. The Cass coalition and Tricolor were spared but…” Her brother stares out into the distance once again, “From what I learned, Luminara was burned to the ground and a majority of its population killed, Apreion was massacred and the commonwealth was practically a ghost town, with the exception of the children, who were the only ones truly spared beforehand.”
“What was done with the survivors?”
Her brother mulls that over, “From what Spyder said, they either surrendered their Pandorian nationality or were relocated to the southern Isle.”
Schpood is not a kind man, but he is a protective one. It doesn’t help when she learns the why of his actions, well, she doesn’t aim for his groin anymore. Afterall, she was a sister once before a leader, she would not dare imagine her Saparata, her baby brother executed by Fluxion’s hands in the name of placing blame.)
Schpood had offered her wine and he spoke, softly, half expecting rejection, “You set yourself to marry a monster.”
He had heard her, it seems afterall. She wonders if it was before or after. But she could not stop the smile, he had protected her, “I marry a kind monster, then.”
That smile- that awed smile, the smile that flutters his face so often when met with her.
2.5
Jophiel's eyes snap open to sword about to be buried in her side and then as she snaps to the side in a half-learned motion, Schpoods words ring through her head.
“In most universes, we never get the chance to meet in person. You are killed by Serphime before that.”
Like hell was she dying before she could meet her bloody husband.
(And like hell was she going to let Fluxion get away with his crimes.)