Chapter Text
CHAPTER ONE: The Matches in My Cigarette Box
You’d say you’re not quite sure how you got here, but it would be a lie. Truth is, the train of events that led to this exact moment have been indelibly etched into your brain forever.
You were a small-time Minecrafter, for sure. Mostly tips and tricks videos, with the occasional stream with friends. But you’d had one good idea in your life: an SMP, where the final goal was to kill the Wither, with each of the five players given only five lives and five respawns apiece.
Hold on a minute; five respawns? Yep, five respawns. Despite the fact that you were technically out of lives, you got to come back one more time…as an undead. All mobs in the game were made passive towards you, and your only goal became to kill one of the remaining players in order to “steal” a life back. Either the players succeeded in slaying the Wither, or the last undead standing won.
Naturally, since you and the other players were accident-prone idiots, it got down to last undead standing. You’d think that for a game like this, the Administrator of the server would’ve wanted your SMP’s winner if anyone, right?
Well, guess what. They’re here too.
Across the field, you can see a three-way argument going between Team ZIT. ImpulseSV, the thrice-betrayed; TangoTek, the unluckiest of Boomers; and finally, the lone survivor of your own SMP, the inestimable Zedaph.
It was Zedaph that had roped you into this mess in the first place, when both Lizzie and Skizzleman had to skip out for the new series. Only to ditch you within the first five minutes to hang out with his older friends.
You can’t really blame him. They certainly made a far better group to team up with than you. And you’ve done the math: alliances in these little “games” tend to work out best when it’s three people. Two, and you can’t handle multiple groups at once. Four, and the possibility of backstabbing gets infinitely higher.
So, despite your own preference to stick close to what you know, you force yourself to finish punching down your tree and move on.
There’s new rules, this time. Three lives, same as the original; but with an updated Boogeyman Curse. Instead of the Curse forcing people to kill literally anyone else to satisfy the bloodlust, it instead gives everyone one name to memorize. Kill the owner of that name, and you get one life added back to your total. And yes, that means you can go up to four.
Some twist on soulmates, huh?
Grian had explained the rules with glee in the spawn circle. You’re not quite sure you liked his tone. Nor the way his eyes had danced with infinite blackness. Not like a demon in a man’s body; more like a man in the body of a demon.
You think of invisible black eyes in the dark, watching your every move, and you shiver.
Cut to you running the exact opposite direction from the one Grian had chosen. So far, the decision has left you a little lonely (you’ve only seen Team ZIT since the game began), but you’ve not been forced to look into those blank orbs again, so you call it a win.
Ten minutes are left on the clock before names are chosen. So, you skedaddle your way over to the nearest mountain. You’ve learned your lesson from others’ experience: you need the high ground, and you need it made out of stone. Preferably deepslate, for the blast resistance. If you get lucky, you can strip away all the exposed iron and coal before anyone else gets there.
You don’t get lucky.
Jimmy is there first.
“Hey man! You here for some goat horns?”
…Only Jimmy.
“No, but I’ll trade you for one.” You offer instead. “I’m here for iron, coal, and powdered snow. If I find some, you wanna split half-and-half for the horns?”
Jimmy takes a step back. “...That’s it? No strings attached?”
Oooh. You’d forgotten. It was Jimmy. Bully target numero uno for the server. A man who was never, ever, treated as an equal. Well, except once.
And Tango was already taken…
A fantastic idea pops into your skull. It may not pan out, but if it did, the results would far outweigh the risks.
“No strings attached”. You grin to yourself. “But hey, I got a proposition for you.”
Jimmy sighs. “Of course you do. Fine then; let’s hear it.”
“Okay;” you begin, “everyone knows that you are in fact the most targeted player in this world, correct?”
“Yeah, and I don’t need you to remind me of that, thank you very much!”
“Hey, hey, whoah!” You’d throw up your hands if you could. “Just pointing out something we can use to our advantage.”
Jimmy stops, crouches, and looks up at you dead in the eyes. “Advantage? How on earth is getting literally bullied to death an advantage?”
“Easy! It makes you the best distraction on the server. Everyone and their pet dog is gonna want to come by and heckle you at least once. Which means their bases will be…”
It takes Jimmy a while to finish the prompt. “...Painted?”
You sigh. “No, Jimmy. They’ll be empty.”
“Oh. OH! Oh, and while they’re here bullying me, you’ll rob them blind! But wait,” Jimmy’s moving around again as he thinks out loud, “if it’s you that’s doing the robbing,” he stops, “what’s to keep you from stabbing me in the back and just taking all the loot for yourself?”
He had a good point. “Tell you what, you pick out one more person for this little group, just to back you up when other people come knocking. That way, if either I or they stab you in the back, it’ll still be a 2v1 if you try and get your stuff back.”
“...Deal. But we get Etho.”
“Is he still unattached? Usually someone’s latched onto him like a limpet by now.”
“Nah man, I saw him down by the river fishing. All by himself. We can bring him easy, once we let ‘em know how much chaos we’re gonna cause!”
True. Etho did love a little chaos on the side. “Fine. You go and get Etho, and I’ll stay here to protect our resources. And this time, we’re building things out of cobblestone.”
Jimmy laughs. “Cobblestone; the height of fashion! Look out server, the Cobble Mob is here to rob you blind!”
A smile ghosts across your lips. “The Cobble Mob. I like it. Right; meet you back here in, say, ten minutes tops? If you’re not back by then, I come looking.”
For the second time, there is doubtful hope in Jimmy’s voice. “...You’ll come looking?”
“Sure will, buddy. Sure will. Now git! We got things to do!”
“Aye, aye sir!” And with that, Jimmy was off.
You turned your attention back to the mountain, already scanning for more ore.
“Oi! Almost forgot!”
You turn back to find a goat horn being shoved unceremoniously in your face. “Already got three this time; only fair you get at least one.”
Gently, you take the offered item, and slowly bring it to your lips.
BRRRRRRR-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHP!
Nice.
TARGETS ARE BEING CHOSEN IN THIRTY SECONDS.
Jimmy still isn’t back.
It hasn’t been ten minutes yet, but you’re starting to get nervous. If Jimmy’s all alone by himself, and Etho gets his name in the pool…
Etho would almost certainly kill Jimmy on the spot. Doubly so since Etho apparently already has fishing-rod in hand.
Not good, Doctor Jones.
You’ve spent the past three minutes hiding the goats. Honestly, they’re probably going to get found in no time at all, but they’re by far the most important things you have right now. The iron’s been smelted down into ingots, and is sitting in your inventory unused. Well, aside from making yourself some boots and a bucket. Very useful thing, a bucket.
Especially when you know for a fact there’s a lava pool between you and the river.
You’re not as high on food as you’d like (you’d only had time to cook one pork and two mutton before leaving), but hopefully it's enough to get you to Etho and his fish.
TARGETS ARE BEING CHOSEN IN TEN SECONDS.
You’re running now.
NINE.
You’ve got the lava, but you pray you won’t be forced to use it.
EIGHT.
But neither you nor Jimmy have ever been that lucky.
SEVEN.
There, in the distance…
SIX.
Two figures.
FIVE.
They’re heading towards you.
FOUR.
It’s Jimmy and Etho.
THREE.
“You made it!” exclaims Jimmy.
TWO.
“Yeah…” you reply.
ONE.
“I made it.”
TARGET ACQUIRED: DANTDM
…
Oh, suck.
“Ah.” comes a voice beside you.
You jerk in surprise. Honestly for a moment, you’d forgotten Etho was there. “Not a good name I take it, Mister Etho Slab?”
To your surprise, Etho doesn’t respond to the joke; just hangs his head in defeat. “I got Cleo.”
…
Oh double suck.
“How bout you, man?” Jimmy asks. “Who’d you get?”
“I…” Well, it’s not gonna be a secret by next session, so you might as well tell. “I gotta kill Dan.”
“Awww….” groans Etho, “come on, man! Dude’s brand new here!”
You know. Boy howdy, you know. What’re the odds that one of the three new players gets the name of one of the others in the draw?
Stupid low, that’s what.
“Well, I feel a little bit less bad now,” Jimmy says sheepishly.
There’s a very bad feeling growing in your stomach. “...Why?” you ask slowly.
“Ah, well…I sorta got…you.”
…
Of course he had. Because Jimmy never got nice things, ever.
With all the subtlety of a brick, you hot-swap to the bucket of lava in your inventory. “You intend to collect the bounty on me, Sheriff Woody?”
Jimmy jumps back; away from you. “No, no! I would, I would never!”
“Never?” comes your dry response.
“Well, maybe.” Jimmy admits. “But only as a last resort!”
“Uh-huh.” You nod your head. “A last resort. Sure.”
The panic has already set in for Jimmy. “I swear, I swear man! I’m not gonna do it! I’m not gonna kill you!”
“Good.” You snap. “Because then I’d have to kill you back.”
A fishing line drops from the sky. “Not if I do it first, you won’t!” And yanks poor Jimmy upwards.
Etho.
Sometimes, you should just keep your doomsday predictions to yourself.
Right; a few cobble placed in a three-high line from the pillar to cover your own head, then down went the lava. You’d really think that after all this time, Etho would’ve learned not to build troll-poles out of wood. Especially when you're in the middle of a field with absolutely no trees. Oh well. You weren’t complaining.
<SolidarityGaming was slain by Etho>
Saw that coming. Jimmy’s stuff (what little there was) rained down around you. You move to fetch it, and then think better of it as you remember the man above you still has a fishing rod.
Etho finally notices there’s a problem down below. “Hey, hey…no! No, nononononononono…bad! Bad fire!”
Above, you can hear the sounds of fire being punched out. Sucker. The bottom two planks have already burned. You can keep placing the lava infinitely, relighting everything. Just so long as you yourself don’t get too close, of course.
“What’d you think was gonna happen, Etho?” you taunt. “Lie to Jimmy, lie to me, and you thought, what? You’d get away with it? Muppet Newsflash, buddy; all I needed was a reason.”
Not true. You kinda like Etho, in a “respect the cryptid” sort of way. But all is fair in love and war.
Etho jumps. Not on top of the cobble over your head, which would be the smart thing to do. Instead, he plummets to the ground directly next to you, stone axe in hand.
A stone axe would be a problem if you were counting on a shield to save you. But you’re not.
You’ve got a stone sword and a lava bucket.
<Ethos burned to death while fighting…>
Such a shame killing a player while they were burning didn’t cook the raw meat they had in their inventory.
“You…you killed him.”
You’d met Jimmy halfway between the river and spawn. It really spoke to how used he was to being betrayed that no trace of rage could be found in his demeanor; only acceptant sadness. With just a touch of confusion.
You shrug. “Doing the server a favor. Having four lives is bad news for everyone. Not to mention the dude lied about his target. Jerk.”
You can tell Jimmy doesn’t believe you. That’s fine; there’s a reason you’ve never been good at Among Us. “So,” you continue, “got any other bright ideas about who to get as a third?”
And for the third time that day, Jimmy stands in shock. “You…you still want me?”
You nod. “Yep.”
“Even though I’m going to have to kill you at some point.”
“Yep.”
“Why?”
“Because you know what they say,” you remark as you drop half of your iron in front of Jimmy, “better the devil you know than the devil you don’t. Cobble Mob forever, man.”
At first, Jimmy doesn’t move. Then, with hesitation and trepidation aplenty, he slowly walks forward…and picks up the iron. And when he speaks, you can hear the grin behind it.
“Cobble Mob forever, baby! C’mon, let's go talk to Cleo! She’s always got beef with Etho anyways.”
“Jimmy, she also just so happens to be one of your worst bullies. Not to mention she’s already hanging out with Bdubs again.”
“So we reconnoiter for future raiding missions instead! C’mon man, where’s your spirit of adventure?”
You sigh. Again. “At least get some armor on; Jesus, it’s worse than Scar.”
“Ooo, Scar!” Jimmy plonks down a crafting bench. “We should look him up too. He hates Etho, and if he’s not with Grian, we definitely want him on our side.”
“We’ll see,” you reply as you plonk down a furnace of your own to smoke Etho’s fish, “we’ll see.”
To your utter surprise, Etho and Cleo appear to be making friends. Or at least tolerating each other for Bdubs’ sake. Good news: Bdubs, being a Minecraft artist, is still using wood in his and Cleo’s build. Bad news: it’s another Crastle. Only much taller. Not much to burn there. Hopefully the interior will turn out better to destroy or trap.
“What are you waiting for?” Jimmy bounds ahead, enthusiasm restored. “C’mon, let’s go!”
You really, really don’t wanna go down there. But Jimmy at least deserves to yell at Etho a bit. And it’s not like anyone else could’ve gotten Jimmy’s name.
They could, however, still decide to kill you for killing Etho in cold blood. And you’re not sold on your odds against either Bdubs or Cleo. Much less if they all gang up on you.
But you’ll have to risk it. There’s no way you’re letting Jimmy go in there by himself.
You shoulder your brand new shield and walk forward into the lion’s den.
The yelling’s already started by the time you make it down the valley. Bdubs, naturally, is being the loudest; although Jimmy seems to be giving him a fair run for his money.
“YOU STOLE ETHO’S STUFF! WE WANT IT BACK!”
“OH, I’M SORRY!” Jimmy shouts back, “I WASN’T AWARE PROPERTY RIGHTS LAWS STILL APPLIED TO MURDERERS!”
“Listen, listen!” Ethos cuts in. “I just want my fish back. That’s all I had on me I care about. I just want my fish.”
“Oh, you mean your salmon?” you ask gleefully. “Sorry; already cooked it up and ate it.”
“YOU DID WHAT?!!!” It’s Bdubs again. “I’M GONNA, OOOH, YOU’RE IN TROUBLE NOW! YOU’RE IN TROUBLE NOW!”
He’s going to kill you. There’s a gleam in his eye Bdubs gets when he’s bloodthirsty. Not to mention he starts alternating between jumping around and sneaking. A sword flashes past in his hotbar multiple times.
You start swapping between your own weaponry: shield in your left hand, lava and sword in your right. “We’re not in trouble, Bdubs;” you growl as you crouch, “we are the trouble.”
Cleo speaks her first words (to you) of the series. “You got that right, champ. Etho wasn’t after you, you know. Why’d you have to kill him after he got rid of Jimmy? What gave you the right?”
“Right?” You snort. “Right? Not a darn thing. I did it because he stabbed my friend in the back. Out of the two of us, which would you say was more ‘right’?”
“YOU SHUT UP!” And Bdubs hits you.
Granted, it’s not much damage (stone sword versus iron boots), but it’s enough to make you retaliate. You actually don’t use the lava; too much chance of hitting Jimmy. So out comes your own sword, and you just start swinging.
Cleo intercepts with a shield she hadn’t been wearing less than a second ago. “Oi! None of that here!”
An axe-crit from Jimmy (you didn’t even know he knew how to do that), and Cleo’s shield is disabled. “Put your dog on a leash, Cleo, or we’ll put him down like the mangy mutt he is!”
“WHO YOU CALLING A MUTT?!” And here came Bdubs again. “I’LL CHOP YOUR HEAD OFF AND MAKE BONE MEAL OUT OF IT!”
You believe him. Bdubs is absolutely unhinged right now. About the only thing keeping you from running like the wind is the fact he seems to be just as angry with Jimmy as he is with you. If your name was on Bdubs’ list, the odds were much higher he’d only be put out with you.
As it is, you’re still plenty scared.
Unfortunately, when you get scared, you tend to have one of two responses: threat escalation, or total surrender.
And surrender to these particular players would mean your life. Or rather, your death. So you escalate.
“Listen Mack,” your mind is racing as you scramble for a way to make yourself seem like a big enough threat, “I think you’re all forgetting something. You kill Jimmy here, no big deal. He’s absolutely useless on red.”
“Oi!” Jimmy rounds on you. “Who’s side are you on?”
You ignore him. “But if you kill me, you’ve got a big problem on your hands. Because as I’m sure Etho has told you, Jimmy has my name on his list. If you kill me, I go down to yellow. If I then let Jimmy kill me again, he goes back up to green, whereas I…”
Here you lean in, deliberately adding a little giddiness to your voice. “I would go down to red. You think you’re scary on red? You think Joel’s scary? Pearl? Grian? Oh, let me tell you: you ain’t seen nothing yet. Push me, I push you back. Kill me…” You want to say you’ll walk it off, but that seems a bit cliche. You reach for the next best thing instead. “...And you’ll be signing your own death warrant. So you might, and here’s a thought, just might, wanna let us walk outta here with no problems whatsoever. Just a thought.”
Your threat, miracle of miracles, seems to work. Bdubs and Cleo still make various threats in your direction regarding when they themselves turn red, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Cleo is predictable, and Bdubs can be provoked. No, the silence from Etho is what haunts you as you and Jimmy wend your way back to the mountain.
The silence of the grave. Or perhaps of the lambs. You can’t really tell.
It’s raining. Good weather for fishing. Too bad Etho didn’t wait for it.
The goats are being held hostage when you finally drag yourself up the last ledge and onto the mountain proper.
Unsurprisingly, Grian is one of the culprits. Also unsurprisingly, Joel is the other. What is surprising is the fact they seem to have teamed up at the moment.
An ill wind that blew no good for the server at large.
You’re letting Jimmy do the yelling all on his own this time. You’ve already kind of tipped your hand to one group on the server; if things start disappearing from Grian and Joel’s chests, you’re the very last person you want them to suspect. Jimmy was the diversion for a reason.
Grian still glances your way every now and again. A small shiver caresses your spine each time those void-like pupils lock onto yours. But you remain crouched on the high ground, silently staring down. To move was to admit weakness.
The deal is apparently concluded with Grian and Joel walking off with a goat of their own for the low, low price of absolutely no money whatsoever. You’re quite sure it would’ve been two if they’d had the wheat to spare.
“They’ll be back,” you remark as you land beside Jimmy.
“I know,” he replies sadly. “I know. Little thieves that they are.”
“You know that means there’s only one thing we can do, right?”
“And what’s that?”
“Steal from ourselves first.”
Jimmy looks at you askance. “...How’s that again?”
“Listen; what do people want from goats?”
“...Horns?”
“Bingo. So what do they do when all the goats have absolutely no horns left at all?”
“They breed them, then kill them!”
“You got it, man. They breed them, then kill them. But wheat you put into goats is food you never get back. So we want people to breed as many goats as possible, because the more they breed, the less food they have.”
“Which makes us richer by comparison!” exclaims Jimmy. “We tell people they can come and breed goats with their own food, and try for a horn or pay extra for one we’ve already got in stock!”
“Now you’re getting it!”
Jimmy is on a roll now. ”And if an unattached individual just so happens to drop by, we can offer them a partnership! Two for one, baby!”
“Two for one,” you agree. “But first…we’re gonna need a better goat pen. Preferably one that can’t be burned to the ground.”
“We’ve already got a hole in the side of the mountain; why can’t we keep using that?”
“Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy; we can only see one side of the hole. Someone could tunnel in while we weren’t looking.”
“...Oh.”
“Yeah. Chin up; we just need a bit more cobble.”
“Yeah.” says Jimmy. “Hey; you think we can build the pen over the lava pool?”
“Why on earth would you want to do that?”
“Well, because if anyone tries to skip out on paying while they’re in it, we can just drop ‘em through the floor. Plus, you know, people can’t tunnel up then.”
“...I like it. You move the goats,” You turn your gaze back to the hole in the side of the mountain. “I’ll get the stone.”