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After what felt like years being surrounded by red, being surrounded by blue just makes him sad.
It brings him memories. Memories he hasn’t been able to fully divulge in anymore without being pushed into bloodlust. But he’s far away now, and he’s certain the stupid egg was encased in a lot obsidian (the one thing that was observed to temporarily weaken it) before he left for the seas.
He’s certain it no longer has control of him. He’s also certain he’s the one in control now, so he lifts up one of his clawed hands up to the clear blue sky, and closes it. There are still some dead blood vines weaving through his dark skin and around, a piece of the remnants broke away when placing his hand back down next to his body. Simply laying inside a wooden boat, he feels the sway of the ocean waves pushing him to wherever it pleases.
That being said, he doesn’t know what his future entails anymore. He doesn’t know where he’s going to and where he could go back. But he’s never felt so in control of himself ever since he found the stupid thing in his what-would-have-been statue room.
Feeling sad is an understatement. In fact, he’s certain he’s feeling more emotions than sad, and now he’s allowing himself to feel whatever he felt. He was not able able to do that in a while.
Suddenly, the boat hits something solid. Bad doesn’t think much of it, expecting the boat to move course and continue on its merry way. But then the boat hits the land again, and it keeps going until Bad sits up tiredly, grabbing a paddle nearby to maneuver the vehicle away. When he blinks away the sunlight and focuses his eyes on the obstacle in front of him, he almost drops the stick into the waters below.
It’s an island.
“Let’s go! Let’s go now!” Skeppy yelled in a hurry, picking up Fluffy and grasping Bad’s sleeves. Despite the desperation behind his words, there was a hint of laughter and adventure in his eyes. “They’re on their way! We have to move!”
That would be the start of their runaway life, the first of many times in which they moved from place to place. Yes, Skeppy was the owner of the idiots smp server -- he could easily stop the mayhem, but he liked the risk. He liked having fun with his friends (even though at the moment they were threatening his dogs’ lives) and he also liked having Bad tag along by his side during these shenanigans. After several chasings, destroyed houses, hostage pets, and toe jokes from Vurb, they came across one island with an undisclosed location that was also far away from everyone else.
It had been almost a week or two or three since they finally started a semi-normal life on this island. Well, that was until another petty argument occurred between Bad and Skeppy that caused the latter to paddle away angrily in a boat. He didn’t settle far away -- a coast that was 5 minutes away -- but the action still stung Bad a bit.
“Would you come back if I burned this place down?” Bad jokingly said with a smile, eyeing the flint in steel in his hands while holding the communicator to his ear. He then walked inside the oak wood home, hoping to find some food in one of the chests.
“Yeah,” Despite the choppy sound of the word through the transmitter, Bad could still basically hear Skeppy’s additional eye roll. He opened his mouth to respond with something witty, but the sight of the lonely interior of the house made him click the flint and steel on and swipe it swiftly across a nearby wall.
The flames engulfed the building in a matter of seconds. If it wasn’t for Bad being nether-born, he would have burnt to death, but the flames curled around his fire resistant clothes and skin and hair as if trying to comfort him for something. Why was he alone here?
“Bad?” He heard Skeppy speak, but Skeppy wasn’t here. “Bad, do I hear flames?”
Skeppy was undoubtedly dumbfounded, as noted by the slight cracking of his voice that wasn’t due to the terrible communicator. Bad stayed quiet, trying to understand his sudden urge to burn. “... I’m coming over.”
He could hear a click after that; it meant the call ended. He lowered his communicator, watching the fire eat away at the bridge above the canal that ran through the house.
He didn’t know how long he had been standing there, watching the bridge nearing its imminent collapse, when Skeppy barged open a door. As soon as he heard him slip into a fit of coughs, Bad shook off the daze he was in and immediately started reprimanding Skeppy. “Geppy! Get outside or you’ll die of asphyxiation and then burn to death!”
He quickly ushered him outside, where they waited a solid five minutes before Skeppy got a hold of his breathing.
“What the FUCK?!” was what he choked out at the end, “I would have come back! You know that!”
Behind Skeppy, Bad could see the smoke rising from the remnants of the wooden abode.
“I kinda got carried away…,” Bad finally muttered, “you know, me being a demon and all.”
Skeppy raised an eyebrow, obviously seeing through his lie, but he finally sighed and chose to ignore it, “Alright, whatever, dude.” After all, they’ve done worse things, “Let’s rebuild it.”
Bad blinked. Then he grinned, and let out a whole-hearted “YEAH!”
“YEAH!” Skeppy yelled back three times louder before running off to gather materials.
Bad looked down at the flint and steel that was still in his hands. He put it in his inventory before he ran as well. He’d do anything for Skeppy to be by his side.
And if the whole trying-to-destroy-this-server-for-him didn’t make that clear, he doesn’t know what would.
There are tears slipping down Bad’s face as he digs his feet into the coastal sands. He kept his view down ever since his feet touched the land. He’s trying to recall the rest of the structures around him without risking looking at them all over again.
He knows there is a hill in front of him, dotted with oak trees, birch trees, and blooming flowers. There is also a small farm and pathway integrated into the hill and a small house with a complex design beside him. It isn’t fully made of oak wood like the one on the other server, but it still had some in its walls.
He gathers enough courage to look up, and the first thing he sees is the terribly built cobblestone replica of his face that Skeppy made all those months ago when Bad was somewhat in and out of the egg’s control. He lets out a strangled scream at it.
It is so so stupid and it hurt. He is about to turn away and hurl himself into his boat before he feels something wet prod at his ankle.
Bad jumps, letting out a shriek before noticing that it was just a dog.
The effect was immediate.
Bad kneels down to pet the dog and talk to it in incessant coos, forgetting that he was just about to flee the place while having a breakdown. The dog yaps happily, tail wagging behind him. While virtually smothering the creature with his face, Bad feels cold metal sting his cheek.
Bad pulls his body back to look at the culprit. It’s just the dog’s collar, but that means the dog had an owner. The dog whines at the loss of contact, licking Bad’s hands before placing himself under them.
“Sorry buddy, let me check if you're anybody’s I know” Bad continues to pet him as he flips over the metal with the other hand. ShortBoyHalo.
… What?
He stops everything. The dog begins to whine again, tilting his head this time when Bad doesn’t respond at all.
He was Bad’s dog. Is that why he trusted Bad just like that? How-
“I knew SBH would get your attention,” someone behind him says. Bad jumps slightly -- again -- at the familiar voice, a sense of dread yet longing overwhelms him as he refuses to turn around. He just continues to pet the dog. But the dog escapes him and runs past him, barking away with even more ferocious excitement, “I also knew you’d come back here.”
Bad’s hands are still hovering above where the dog (their dog) was; they are shaking tremendously.
He hears a sigh, before some crunching of the sand comes closer until it stops right beside him. On the other side, his dog goes back to him for more pets, putting its snout in his shaking hands.
“Calm down, I’m real,” Skeppy assures him quietly before Skeppy stands right in front of him and kneels down to his eye level, “I’m also not going to hurt you.”
Bad keeps petting, almost suffocating their poor dog as he refuses to make eye contact.
He must be hallucinating. It was probably the leftover effects of the egg. Andhowmuchhemissedhim-
But he needed to go. Why was he being treated with kindness? He needed to go he needed to let go he neededto leave leave leave-
“Bad.” Skeppy says his name as if it was a complete statement. Skeppy said his name. He said his name without any malice or apathy or anger. No demands for him to leave or declarations of an irrecoverable friendship.
Bad breaks.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry im sorry imsorryimsorryimsorry,” what he’s saying sounds like gibberish, but the other understood everything he communicated with each sob and heave and exhale and incomprehensible scream he lets out. He then feels warmth enveloping him in the form of lanky arms, a cotton hoodie, and what he assumes to be Skeppy’s tears dripping into his hair. Even though Skeppy’s chin is on top of his head, Bad covers his own face with his hands, feeling shame. SBH’s concern and comfort is shown through whimpers and small licks to the leftover tears on his cheeks.
Soon enough, they are simply hugging each other with a tired dog squished between them. Some tears slip from either of their eyes from time to time, but the silence is not unwelcome as they try to gather their own thoughts.
After almost an hour and a half, Skeppy speaks first, “Let’s go inside, BadBoy. We need to eat something. Mr. Bons must be hungry.”
Bad let’s go of the embrace first and nods. He inhales deeply before looking up to see what his best friend looks like after a long, long time.
Blue.
Yes, the half golem had tan skin and brown eyes, but the diamonds embedded in his skin were blue. His clothes were blue. The ocean behind him was blue.
Skeppy gives him a small smile, and he reaches a hand out to him so Bad could lift himself up. Their dog wakes up after falling asleep sometime ago; his tail begins to wag immediately.
Standing up, Skeppy gives Bad an expectant stare for him to say something. Bad does, and his throat hurts, but he does.
“Remember that time I burnt the house?” Bad asks, almost in a daze.
“Yeah,” Skeppy smiles fondly at the memory.
“The bridge inside didn’t collapse.”
Comfortable silence ensues, and they both turn to stare down at SBH as he stars to circle around them.
“Bad,” Skeppy starts.
“Yes, Skeppy?”
“I’m going to be honest with you-- I don’t know what the fuck that means,” Bad begins to sputter, and Skeppy’s giggles cut him off, “But, hey...”
Bad’s eyes are already on him as Skeppy turns around to meet them.
“We have time to talk about everything and anything we want whenever we want. At least we’re side by side.”
Bad smiles, and he looks to the blue ocean again. Then Skeppy grabs Bad’s sleeves with his own blue sleeves to pull him along.
He thinks he can get used to this again.