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Fake. False,not real, liar,scamp,cheater,imposter.
All of those words could be attributed to tango.
He wasn't half as good as everyone else had made him out to be. He wasn't as talented or funny or smart as even he himself had made himself out to be.
He was fake.
Every idea,every machine,every build, everything about it was fake.
Because no matter what.
Someone did it first.
Someone did it faster.
Someone did it better.
He took ideas. Sometimes he'd add on new things to the base design. Keep innovating.
But it was never him that was doing it.
His personality was a sham as well.
Just him copying little details,habits,mannerisms,likes and dislikes from people surrounding him till he had no idea who he was.
Till he couldn't tell what aspects of him were even him any more.
.
..
….
It was safe to say that tango was probably having an identity crisis. Or just a crisis in general.
But that wasn’t going to stop him.
So he bargained with himself all night to come up with something better. If he worked hard enough. If he was more serious and straightforward and technical. If he threw out the bad parts of him and grinded as best as he could maybe. Maybe this feeling would go away.
So around the end of season seven tango kicked his plan into high gear.
He made something totally original.
Something really unique.
“Decked out”.
A game that managed to span thousands of blocks and keep all the hermits fairly entertained.
And he was sufficed for a while.
Everyday for over twelve weeks he'd get up at six in the morning sharp. He’d pack a shulker of health potions and resources to keep him going throughout the day. Sure, the only breaks he got was to drink a health potion-- the best lunch he could give himself unless he started to feel really bad from hunger pains--and he never got more than three hours of sleep he was thriving.
He was more alive than he’d felt in internitys. He wasn't a sham or a loser, he wasn't just tango. He was decked out. He was the iron titan, the minigame maker, the centre of tango and friends.
But he wasn't just him.
And that was a great thing for a while.
He didn't have to deal with anything that had been bubbling in his chest for however long.
He was a machine.
No play, all work. And he felt alive.
It was crazy really.
And he was thriving till he finished.
Anxiety over his practical life line maintained his broken structure for a week longer but afterwards he was trapped. No more left to do. Forced to maintain himself. To be around everyone.
And that's when the guilt settled in again.
So he started another project.
“The among us project”
Based on a separate world entity he and the other hermits would visit and toy with. And it was all new!
Mainly.
Except….
Like almost everything else
It wasn't his.
He wasn't the one that had poured hours into the concept.
Into making an idea.
To put it into action.
He was a fake creator.
And that had made him spiral deeper than he'd ever been.
Deep in the wiring of his hardest project yet tango was staring at an item.
A pair of shears. He had it for removing and replacing wool blocks he’d used for decor.
Silently,he wondered if he could just-..
Experimentally he held it to his arm.
But he moved it down to his leg after rolling up the pyjama bottoms he was wearing. In case. He quickly, in a moment of pure shatterdness, pulled it against his leg. Nothing happened besides a tiny twinge of discomfort.
So he did it again.
And again.
And again.
His skin was flaking off now-in tiny speckles. He couldn't bring himself to stop.
So he adjusted how he was holding it and did it again.
Tango looked away for a moment to fix the now slightly out of place blade. And when he turned back there was blood on his leg.
It was so beautiful and unique coming from him.
It was perfect.
It is season nine now. Tango still wasn't doing well. Last year in season eight at the start xisuma said he was going to send keralis to base near him. That way- tango would have someone to force him to take it easy.
Bdubs had no idea about the arrangement- and Keralis had no idea he was still cutting.
After the first time it was meant to be a Friday thing.
Then it became a Saturday thing as well.
Then an end of week thing.
Then a whole four days when he’d do it when he got home.
Nobody had a clue.
And now he was more or less alone as the last person to start on his mega base. Everyone else is already moving out.
Tango’d been laying on his couch the last half hour,strapped for anything to do and fighting off the urge to eat. Occasionally,he'd look at his hands and sigh at all the scars or think about throwing himself out the nearest window but he mainly just thought about the near daunting idea of doing decked out.
He’d loved doing it last time but it felt like it wasn't going to be good enough. No sequel was as good as the original, his thoughts echoed. Tango glared at his uninviting ceiling for any motivation. There wasn't anyone there though.
Tango looked at his open window. He stood up, feet making the boards creak loudly as he wandered over to the glass work. Leaning his head out revealed nobody to be there. Falling and drowning in his lake would be so easy.
Tango bit back a panicky breath.
He knew for a while now that he was suicidal. But he never thought he was…
Ready like that.
Tango went over what he usually did when he was on the verge.
he ‘d go talk.
But nobody was in sight.
He flicked open his comm from its spot on his wrist and started going through the list of online players.
Doc,iskall,joe,and grian were the only people online.
Rubbing over his tired eyes for a moment, Tango sent a message to doc.
You to docm77: hey doc? you busy i got a deal I need to do
Tango immediately regretted texting doc. Lying like he always did.
‘Docm77 is typing * * *’
Tango panicked at the bright white letters and sent a reply.
You to docm77: never mind sory docvvf
Tango flicked his comm shut as fast as he could. Taking off he tried to fly to anywhere but the starter village to maybe find someone or just to clear his head.
His mind, thinking of doc and all, led him to his copper farm. His copperfarm reminded him of doc. It was the only thing he'd managed to do since decked out that wasn't fake. It was also strong and powerful--like the goat himself.
Tango hit the slabbed platform with a steady thunk and fell to his knees screwing his eyes shut.
Deep breaths shook his chest hard.
Tango struggled to breath for a little while-- the only constant being the sound of the waves below him.
Tango looked down and regretted it.
Thoughts spiralled out of control fast.
Tango curled onto his knees and threw off his jacket to get rid of the scary weight.
Slowly,he managed to dry some of the tears on his face.
‘Tango..?”
Tango shot his head up to see Doc staring at him,worry in his eyes. Well, eye.
“What's up doc? Sorry about the random message. I thought I didn’t have any.. Gold and I wanted to see if I could borrow some.”
Doc gave a small chuckle and sat down next to tango.
“Tango, your eyes are swollen and your nose is pink. You also have a gold farm.”
“Not a very good one?’
Both of them laughed and for a second it didn't matter why on earth tango had been acting so funny for three seasons now. And why he texted doc. And the reason he was crying.
Doc stopped laughing first and Tango had to quell the laugh that had turned into a dry whimper after him.
Tension built in the air.
Doc pulled him into a hug.
“What are you doing here?”
“Workin on this farm.” tango lied.
“You finished it weeks ago.”
“How would you know?” tango asked.
He'd never actually showed it to anyone--worried they'll judge him for not doing anything too useful and making a farm he wouldn't use.
“Tango, I make sure to check out everything you build. Small or large. Everythin to the tangler to your cat farm two seasons ago.”
“Really?”
Doc nodded.
Tango sniffled a little bit.
Tango swallowed and tried to remember a time doc wasn't there.
He always was though.
“Ya know it's a really inventive design tango. I’ve never seen anythin like it before.”
Tango hummed so doc kept talking one sidedly.
“ I seriously dunno where you get all this creativity from. Everything had just a unique you spin that you’ll never find anywhere else. It's all so fresh and interesting.”
Tango almost choked on the sigh brewing in his mouth.
Tears welled up but he pushed them aside.
“..h-how’d you know I needed that?”
“What?”
“What you just said. How’d you know that was the thing on my mind?”
“Because I'm the goat.”
The next words practically fell off Tango’s tongue.
“How do you do it?! How-how do you just- accept and go along with the fact you're good?”
“What do you mean? It's just-.. People know I'm good and I try to be so I can accept it.”
Tango felt kinda mad.
“But How? How do you feel like you're not faking it? How do you know you're unique and not a fraud? Everything about me at least is fake - I how do you even get past that?!”
Doc's eyes widened a bit.
“I-ive never gone through anything like ‘dat' before,tango. And it's kinda worrying that you have. How often do you feel like that?”
“All the time!”.
“And I just- I want it to go away so I can feel normal again. The only time I don't feel like an absolute baffoon with no idea what hes doing and a fraud are when im so hungry and bone tired and suicidal I can’t feel much of anything.”
Tango realised the word suicidal had slipped into that monloge.
Doc pulled him impossibly close.
Neither said anything for a long long while.
Doc just sat with tango and didn't press. And to that tango was very very thankful.
Slowly-docs steady breathing and his riveting cooling fans lulled tango into a sleepy disposition.
“...dad?”
“...yes?”
Tango blinked and blush rushed to his face as he realised he’d said dad.
“Sorry.”
“For what?”
“For calling you dad and just everything today.”
“It's okay. We’re going to get this all sorted out. You're going to be okay.
And I don't mind you calling me dad. You're almost like my son anyhow.”
“Thank you doc. But do you really mean all of that?”
‘Every word.”
Tango sighed and let his eyes start to droop.
“Is this real?”
“Yes. and you are too.”
Huh
What a nice feeling.