Chapter Text
A common misconception about the Egg is that it is an uncaring, bloodthirsty parasitic infection that is only out to recruit beings in order for it to infect and spread. The Egg itself was merely a vessel for its containment, that being the Crimson. It has no physical body, hence needing the shell to protect itself from the ruthless realm around it.
It is also a common fact amongst all of nature that every parasite needs a host in order to survive.
On the first night that Skeppy was trapped beneath the obsidian casque, the Crimson interrogated him if he knew about any potential hosts for it. Skeppy, wanting this nightmare to cease, crams a tiny hand into his oversized hoodie pocket and pulls out a creased and nicked polaroid, containing a group picture of himself, Bad, Ant, and Velvet.
He then proceeds to show the red marbled shell, unknowing of if it would even see the picture. Several tiny vines uprooted themselves from the ground and sized the photograph out of his small, crystallized hands. The vines carried it to a small crack in the shell.¨Tell me...¨ It warbled within the diamond gollum’s mind, “...which one of these… beings are of use?” Skeppy backed up to the obsidian, he knew deep down what he was going to say would either be the best idea he has ever had or he would face the wrath of a grieving widow.
“You.. you notice how th-there are for people, right?” He stuttered.
It did not respond.
Skeppy cleared his throat, “Okay, well… obviously the handsome one is me and you may already know the demon and the furry…” He straightened his back out, hearing the diamond crack against each other in relief. “So uhm… Straight to the point, the red dude in that photo is dead, he died almost a year ago now. I don’t know if you need a live host or-”
“Give me the coordinates to this… body. It will be of great use for me…”
Skeppy bit a hardened lip and exhaled the coordinates of Velvet's burial site, as if it was second nature…
Fast forward to present day, Velvet, thanks to the generosity of the Crimson blessing his with a second chance of life, is meandering through Dream’s SMP, walking over broken shards of glass and splintered pieces of wood, whether hacked at with weapons or singed with tnt or creeper explosions. His hands are stuffed in his hoodie pockets, occasionally stretching his sore wings, and looks around in the area he is in, he's by a bench with a patchworked jukebox to one side and an ender chest to the other, overlooking old bases and untouched areas of the land. He turned around and noticed a home dug in a hill with a medium sized carrot farm next to it. And the cobblestone.
Good lord, who needs all of that cobble? He thought to himself, he kicked a reasonable sized lump of the said stone with his pink Mary Janes off of the frankensteined pathway and went to the bench. He unfurled his wings to full wingspan and sat so they could drape behind the bench. He just so happened to have a disk laying in his inventory, he was given it as an anniversary gift from Ant.
He pulled down a sleeve and pressed a button on a rather large wristlet he had on, which opened up to all of his stats, including vitals, armor, and the inventory, obviously. He selected it and it materialized for him, the decorative interior of the vinyl was purple and white with “Meholli” etched in careful cursive writing. He reached over the jukebox and placed it in and moved the needle to the disk, which then started to play its tune. He resumed his original positions and closed his eyes, reminiscing when he and Ant waltzed to this song yesterday.
He was rudely awoken from his daydream by a calling of a familiar name, but not of his own.
He opened his only eye and looked at the source. Standing before him, leaning against the safety railing on the clift, was his ‘friend’, BadBoyHalo, clad in his usual black and re-dyed red rimmed cloak that has hangoff like an extravagant wedding dress, was looking at him with blank, quartz white pinhole eyes. Velvet pouted and furrowed his eyebrows, the pastel red chrysanthemum taking residence in his left eye socket wriggled, giving him the hint to leave, but he ignored it.
“Bad, what do you want from me this time?”
Bad opened his mouth before being interrupted, “And if it's any type of justification for you harassing Ant and I, I will track Skeppy down and kill him.” Velvet stated in such a matter of fact voice that Bad sunk back a bit,
“No...no it isn't that, Crimson-”
Velvet stood up, visibly annoyed, standing eye to eye to the benevolent demon.
“And don’t you dare call me ‘Crimson’.”
Velvet threatened him, his words sneering on 'crimson' retracting his wings. The music disk stopped playing and made the scratch that it was so. Velvet turned around to collect his disk, then walked over to the ender chest and put the disk in there to not lose it to the thieves of the realm.
Bad watched him, “Crim- Velvet…” he called to him, softening his voice, he adjusted his hood, “I just… oh muffins…” He put both of his gloved hands into the void that is the hood and presumably wiped his eyes.
“Velvet, I just don't want you to hate me anymore. I-I just want to know if there is anything I can do or…” He babbled on, losing his composure. Velvet pitied his old friend and walked back to him, “Hey… If… if you really want to make things up, you can help Ant and I. I need to go and find a spruce forest for wood for a little project of ours.” Bad looks up to him, with a grateful look in his eyes, “A-Alright! I’ll-I’ll get you the whole forest worth of wood! Heck, I’ll get you guys and then some!” The pinholes curved up at the bottom, signifying a smile and he ran off, trident in his off hand, allowing to speed his travel up.
Velvet smirked at him running off, "Does that appease you, Crimson?" He said, poking at the stigma of the flower.
Shush... It gets him away for a little bit... Carry on with your walking, I need the oxygen...
Velvet rolled his remaining eye at the remark and carried on, but on his own volition.