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The sound of opening and closing chests was a familiar one on the hermitcraft server. As familiar as seeing piles of them in the absence of shulker boxes at the beginning of a season.
Pearl and Grian were at the heart of one such chest monster doing some organizing. Grian had reached out to his sister when he realized his ‘storage’ was getting out of hand. She was more than happy to help him get things in order.
They had been at it for just shy of two hours now. It took a while to find all the scattered chests and put their contents in one area. Only then could they begin to make sense of where it all belongs. Like with like, and all where it would be remembered.
“Are you gonna label these?” Pearl asked Grian, shutting the lid of the ‘organics’ chest.
Grian winced, “I- yeah?” he didn’t sound so convinced.
Pearl chuckled, “You don’t have to do it the way I do cause you think that’s right. You do you.”
Grian let out a relieved sigh, “Okay. It’s just, I kind of know where things are without signs to get in the way. And if I don’t, I don’t mind looking for it.”
“Makes sense.” Pearl shrugged, “But you don’t have to explain yourself Gri. Everyone’s brains function differently, especially here on hermitcraft. We’re an eclectic bunch!”
“We are!” He grinned back at her. Then they were back at it.
The two had a good system going. Once they figured out what a chest would be filled with, Grian would fetch the items and pass them to Pearl. They were so in sync they barely watched what they were doing while passing items.
Which is why Pearl became confused. She had her arm stretched out behind her, hand open to receive some sticks… when she got nothing. She wiggled her fingers and called, “Griiiiiiaaann. You still with me?” No response. She finally turned around to see what the hold up was.
There he was, sitting on a crafting table, contemplating the sticks in his hands. The sticks in question were not the ones you pick up off the ground, but ones that were crafted. They were about the length of Grian’s arm, elbow to tip of fingers. These sticks were cut and sanded, probably to be used as tool handles.
Grian was looking at the three bits of wood like they were telling him a grave secret. Pearl standing up caught his attention finally and he looked up at her, tilting his head, “Hmm?” he asked, feet kicking the table beneath him.
Pearl grinned. Maybe it was the innocent glint to Grian’s eye, or the fact that he had just spaced out for so long, that gave Pearl the answer. Or maybe it was a sister’s intuition. She crouched in front of him, “What’s my little man up to?” She smiled encouragingly.
He huffed frustratedly, feathers fluffing briefly, “‘m not little.”
“I’m sorry,” she giggled, his tone of voice giving away that he in fact was, “I shouldn’t assume. How old is my big man right now?”
“I’m five!” He said happily.
“And what were you thinking about just now?” She asked playfully, drumming her fingers on his knee.
“I…” he suddenly looked shy, “I wanna play swords wif dese.” Grian held up the sticks.
“And what a wonderful idea that is! Who will you be playing with?”
Grian shoved Pearl playfully, “You silly!” He held a stick out for her to use.
“Why thank you sir!” She stood up and swished the stick around in the air as if testing its balance like a real sword. She took a staggered stance and put one arm behind her back, the other holding the stick out to point at her brother, “En garde!” She hollered with a grin.
Grian tossed the spare stick and stood with his feet apart a little more clumsily and grasped his own ‘sword’ with two hands yelling, “On guard!”
The fight was on.
Sooo, maybe Pearl wasn’t really trying, but it was still interesting sparing with Grian in his regressed state. The two were skilled swordsmen regularly. Both of them trained with False, Cub, and Ren for MCCs in the past. Grian wasn’t called Dreamslayer for nothing after all!
But, when he was under 10, Grian’s swings got clumsy. It was endearing honestly. Currently his tongue was peeking out the side of his mouth in concentration as he stayed steady on the offense. His spararic footwork almost made it challenging, but Pearl had an ace up her sleeve.
As she parried another jab, Pearl decided to enact her tactic. For no reason whatsoever, she glanced to her left. Somewhere out in the distance with a bit of fake confusion. It lasted no more than a second and she was back in the action. A few seconds later, she did it again. Grian’s brow furrowed. Good, Pearl thought, he’s taking the bait.
In reality, she could’ve disarmed him at any moment, but she wanted this to end like a proper sibling fight…. cheating.
A couple more fake glances and she saw her chance. Finally, she stopped parrying completely and turned her body with a shocked expression. In his five year old little mind Grian had to see what the fuss was about, so he turned to see it too… giving Pearl her opening.
“What, what you seein’?” Grian whined.
Pearl gently poked his stomach with the end of her stick with a triumphant smile, “Gotcha.”
“Heeeyyy…” Grian finally caught up to what had taken place, “Das cheating.”
“Not technically.” She shrugged. “You know the rules. You’ve gotta go down now!”
He huffed and stomped a foot, his arms swinging by his sides with the movement and his wings giving a weak flap, “….. fine.” He clutched his ‘wounded’ side and gave an adorably exaggerated eye roll. Grian really did enjoy their home brew rules to ‘sword’ fighting, he was just being an extra dramatic little today.
“Nooo da pain! How could you do dis to me!” He wailed, dropping his stick and throwing the hand over his forehead.
Pearl gave a grim look in response, pairing it with an exaggerated hero-like voice, “You know this is how it has to be birdman.”
“I know, but-” a brief expression passed over Grian’s face that Pearl was all too familiar with.
He was scheming.
Grian dramatically dropped to his knees, carefully enough to not actually get hurt, “I has-” he fake coughed, “one las‘ thin’ to tell you. Come close.” With a hand still over his ‘wound’ the other beckoned her over.
Pearl collapsed next to him onto her knees as well and cradled her pretend enemy in his last hour. “You may have been my enemy, but I will grant you this last wish.” She continued in the same voice, “What is it?”
A grin split her brother’s face as he broke character, or maybe it made his character better. Grian not so subtly grabbed his stick back up and poked Pearl in her side, “Gotcha.” He whispered, mimicking what she had done before.
“Oh nooo it was a trap!” Pearl flung herself on top of him diagonally, effectively pinning him down partially. “How could you?! Curse you birbman!”
Grian’s giggles we’re like music to her ears. Truth be told, the organizing seemed to be stressing him more so than helping. It’s probably why he slipped in the first place. She was just glad she could turn his mood around to make up for it.
He just managed to get out between laughs, “Peeeaarlllll, don’t die on top of me!”
“Can’t help it.” She fake cried out, “You did this to me, now I’ll haunt you forever!”
“Scene!” Grian called with some actual seriousness to his voice as he tapped her shoulder twice.
That was their que to stop (no matter in headspace or not) so Pearl sat up with some worry. Did I go overboard?
“You okay feather?” She checked in.
“Yeah,” Grian sighed, “T’ink I’m jus’ tired now.”
“Okay,” Pearl rubbed his arm in comfort, “I think we’ve done enough for today. Wanna take a nest break?”
Grian nodded, a fist rubbing at his eye before giving all his limbs a stretch. His wings were looking a little worse for wear honestly.
“Want me to preen your wings while you have a snack?” Pearl offered.
“Yes p’ease.” He trilled in response.
“Sounds like a plan!” Pearl got to her feet before pulling up her brother as well. With a heft, she pulled him up onto her hip and into his starter base.
Up her sleeve was one more ace for today. He was going to fall asleep during preening and be out like a light. She would take that time to return his chests to their natural scrambled state. Maybe she would talk to him later about putting his wants and needs before his worry of judgment.
For now? She had a little brother to coddle.