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Ambition. A really great thing to have, to ground and to guide you. A good reputation to have. (At least, that's what Impulse lived by.)
And it wasn't a bad thing. Because, without it, he wouldn't have such a drive to make a mark on this new server. If he was to represent the hermits, he'd need those goals to prove that he was a professional. He had mastered his craft and he would show it to the world.
He would not sit around doing nothing, giving these empires people a poor image of who the hermits were. While he wouldn’t judge anyone else who didn’t have the time or drive as he... he would contribute. He would do more than anyone else.
It started with an iron farm. Simple thing, really. Anybody could follow an iron farm tutorial. He slapped a villager breeder near it, keeping the full area compact. It was a bit time consuming for a starter project, but nothing he hadn’t done before. Essential, but nothing special.
A few other folks had started work too. Cub was planning out his location of a 13 block-type house and Joe had built his overlook from the side of a hill. A simple organization system, another addition to the Hermitcraft empire by Joe, sat on the edge of the hill, right above his house. Grian was outlining some plans for a mega-base-farm, but had yet to collect the scaffolding for it.
It wasn’t long before Xisuma had taken Impulse’s villagers and turned them into an underground trading hall. And a couple days later, Jevin, the speedrunner he was, went through the end to get everyone diamond gear.
In only a matter of time, Impulse realized his contribution of the iron farm was forgotten. It laid waste in the dark, seldom spoken of. The villagers were being used, yeah, but technically Xisuma did the work. He moved them around and collected emeralds for everyone’s use.
He pushed his mind away from the thought. “This is childish. We’re all a team. It’s nothing to get worked up about.”
It still… festered.
Grian eventually got hold of his scaffolding and the walls went up. Cub met absolutely every empire and built his chaotic base in a short thirteen minutes (followed up by excessive work all the next day to make it presentable). The shared storage system was cleaned up and expanded. The villagers had been moved up top for easy use.
Hustle and bustle was everywhere. Talk of future farms floated about the area. But they were all… tiny farms. Micro, essential, nothing to sneeze at. Eventually Impulse would add to it, but sue him if he wanted to do more. Jevin was building an enderman farm now, and Xisuma was asking around if everyone agreed a copper farm would be useful.
There were mega projects in the works.
Impulse could put up a mega project.
And with all this trading, the hermits needed emeralds, right? This wasn’t for himself, this wasn’t for Impulse to look good. Emeralds were useful and a raid farm would do the trick.
With the thought in mind, Impulse went out to the ocean by Dawn to build his raid farm. His raid farm. Built by him, Impulse. Not Xisuma. Not Jevin. Not the collective of hermits.
Himself. By himself.
And yeah, it wasn’t that cool. He’d built this thing a few times, understood how it worked, understood how to get all the mobs to their necessary location. But it was tedious. It took a couple days to just maneuver mobs, mostly due to failed attempts and forgetting to name-tag them. The building itself took half a week. Making sure each block was spawn-proofed was incredibly important just for the function of the farm.
He wasn’t sure if it was a sad thing that it took a week, or a testament to his hard work. “Could’ve done it quicker and got more done.”
And then there was the realization that someone had to stand here and farm everything, hoping and praying that it wouldn’t lag out the server. Empires wasn’t as hefty as Hermitcraft and considering Jevin and Xisuma’s ideas…
Impulse took a long look at the farm. It didn’t always have to be running. It wouldn’t lag out things. He didn’t waste his time on something that would put him in a bad place towards the emperors. And, if all else failed, the hermits could share their riches with everyone else! And the totems could come in handy!
With enough convincing himself, Impulse became sure of the fact that his raid farm could be useful. He grabbed an inventory’s worth of emeralds and flew back home. Maybe there’d be someone there he could share his victories with.
Signage was now up, dubbing the hermit land as 'Hermittopia'. Had a nice ring to it. Though it was weird how he’d heard nothing about the naming of the area.
…it just sorta happened.
He stepped around some scaffolding, taking in what all had been rearranged. The storage system had yet another upgrade, crop farms were all around the area, the sheep pen had been relocated, and a few farms above were starting to take shape.
In some areas, they had flooring, which he later learned was thanks to Cub.
All of this would be continually seen by everyone.
Impulse just had a raid farm in the middle of the sea.
He put the emeralds into a community barrel. He didn’t worry about labeling — this was more of a "Joe Hills" sort of job, simpler in nature.
Keeping a stack of blocks on him, he walked into the glass-encased villager trading hall. Eventually they needed to get a zombie to lower down the trades of all these guys. Some of them had been cured once or twice, but it was rather inconsistent. Impulse was known well enough for his villager work. He could do it when he got the chance.
Debatably, now, while he was trading, was as perfect a time as any. He wasn’t doing much of importance, just restocking on valuable goods. A quick thought flew past, wondering what items they might want to export out of their Empire. Most everything was farmable, and the hermits knew much more about economy than the empires.
He’d have to talk to Grian on it, considering he was the leader of this operation.
His thoughts considered to flow along as such, sometimes getting caught on a stray bit of jealousy, thinking of how much work everyone else was getting done. More farms were designed – pumpkin and melon for the villagers, general crop farms, a wool farm, even a mud farm. Each person’s contribution to Hermittopia out in the open.
And Impulse had nothing.
Out a long ways, Xisuma and Pixlriffs had a copper farm set-up. And nearer to spawn (but still in the End), Jevin and Pixlriffs created an enderman farm. Bigger feats were spoken of, leaving the raid farm in the dust.
(Though Joe did collect totems on occasion, yet pretty much everyone agreed excessive totems were unnecessary. Impulse kept one on, as did Jevin. Joe likely had about five in his inventory, along with a shulker box full of them, tucked away in some enderchest. At least someone was appreciative of his work.)
The swirl of thought kept getting stronger by the day. Sometimes it showed up in a slightly bitter remark, other times it showed though melodrama from a lack of beard, or of being suddenly shrunk down by Grian’s “hermit machine”.
No one really questioned it though. And maybe, just maybe he was a tad frustrated that nobody saw him. Maybe he was disappointed that everything he did was left to be forgotten. Maybe he wanted someone to just ask how he was doing because he seemed off. Maybe—
He knew he was being an idiot. He always was about these things. He’d been repeatedly told that he was in his head, caring way too much about everything.
It. Didn’t. Matter.
This feeling did not matter.
Impulse flew off in his mixed-feeling state and sat at the raid farm, mindlessly farming for more emeralds.
He knew he was still of use. Of course he was.
Just because there was a new, amazing looking bee farm Scar had created, or an outer shell of this monstrosity that False had done… or anything noticeable really…
Impulse was still worth keeping around.
He knew that.
But it wouldn’t hurt to come back to Hermittopia with more emeralds to spend.
“So fWhip’s got an elytra challenge?” Impulse looked up at the community board. Plenty of new signs had been posted, advertising shops and activities… as well as listing the now banned Joe Hills and Jimmy. (If Joe could do so much to help out and yet get kicked out without second thought, where did that leave Impulse?) He dwelled on the challenge course for a bit longer.
He wouldn’t get kicked out. He would fight for his place here.
And he’d check out this elytra course and do amazing at it. Because he had to. He’d come home with some cool prize he could show off, display the fact that he’d won something, that he was a successful person.
Because he was. Impulse could do stuff and do stuff well.
When he got to fWhip’s elytra course, he found his competitor to be Xisuma. The track was deceivingly easy, but with rockets to boost yourself every which way, it was hard to keep on course.
fWhip just encouraged the two to test it out a few times and get a bearing of the map. He seemed… too friendly about it. That may have just been the tag hat speaking, considering fWhip had told him and Xisuma that he needed a person to die by prickly cactus.
All went smoothly at first. Yeah, Impulse did pop a totem in trying to fly the first few times, but once he got the hang of it, he was more than ready to test his luck. It was all for fWhip’s battle gear, which looked incredibly powerful. That was worth the potential of getting tagged, in Impulse’s opinion.
He let Xisuma go first, watching as he failed to even put on an elytra. Only moments later, once having proper gear on, Xisuma died in the course and decided he would not try again.
Impulse wasn’t fighting against much, apparently. Before jumping off, he double checked if his elytra was on properly, and then took off to the skies…
Bonking into a post not much later, but kindly given an opportunity to retry his flight if he really believed he could make this.
“Yeah, of course. One more shot at this. It’ll be flawless.” Impulse readied himself, trying to take it easier. From above, fWhip and Xisuma, along with Gem as a spectator, watched him fly through the course carefully. Every dip of the wings held precision, and he rarely ever tilted to the side, not allowing the glide to experience drag.
But all at once his run took a tumble, as fWhip blocked off the course with cactus. He was forced into it moments later, giving fWhip his tag for the day.
Impulse took the tag hat, his new card telling him to kill via anvil, and took the walk of shame down to the raid farm.
No mallet in hand. Just a stupid jester hat and failed elytra course attempt.
He leaned his head against one of the overflowing chests of totems. He’d been at it here for far too long. Excess items were burning away now, but Impulse had no want to head back to Hermittopia.
Call it childishness, but he didn’t want to face the reality that he’d both failed the hermits by not doing anything to make them powerful and failed himself by not getting this trophy.
It was silly. He knew it was.
And that was half the reason he couldn’t face anyone.
From above, he could hear someone glide in. Probably Joe, wanting more totems. He’d been on the run as of late, but always came by for something to keep him alive. Impulse didn’t bother looking up. Joe had learned to just take without bothering Impulse about it — he’d built it for community, and Joe was still a hermit, even if he wasn’t of Hermittopia.
But based on the graceful landing on the platform, and not the Joe Hill’s typical crash splash into water, Impulse knew right away his assumption of the person here was wrong.
“Impulse?” It was Gem, funny enough another person not involved in Hermittopia, yet here on what was technically Hermittopia property. She had no reason to be here, never showing an interest in totems or emeralds anyway.
“What’s up?” He stood up from the chests, hoping that she didn’t take note of his slumped position.
“I came looking for you, on request of some of the hermits,” she said with a smile. Gem was, in some ways, incredibly different here than at home, especially considering her role as princess and large affinity for the sun… but she was still Gem. Same Gem who managed to hunt Impulse out whenever he would rather not be hunted out.
“Oh? What’d they need?” Impulse started to gather his things together in shulkers. Busy work might convince Gem that she was unneeded right now. He wasn’t sulking. He wasn’t! He was farming for emeralds, which he was now stocking up in his shulkers, which he would bring to Hermittopia!
“They wanted to know why you’ve been acting off.”
“Off?”
Gem gave a sad smile, only a hint of exasperation in it, knowing all too well how this conversation would go. “Yes, Impulse. Off. You’re more… prickly than usual. Like the cactus that killed you earlier!”
It was a slight tease, made to be funny.
Impulse didn’t think it was that funny. He frowned slightly.
“I can see what they’re talking about. You’re more… moody.”
If nothing else, Gem had gotten good at getting straight to the point. At an earlier time, when confronting Impulse during a burnt out state, she would have hesitated before saying that she knew there was a problem. She would hesitate to step in.
It was frustrating to think that they’d been through this conversation enough times that Gem could practically guess where he was at just based upon a mood he was in.
“Sorry. Just… trying to pull my weight and stuff. Gets me tired and… you know how I get.”
“Mhm,” Gem agreed. “You know it’s okay though.”
“I don’t really have to pull any weight. Yeah, yeah. Heard it, already been telling myself that.” His voice held great annoyance, which Gem winced at. And he knew he was bothering her with this — it wasn’t like they hadn’t gone through this conversation before. He knew all the right things to say and to do, but here on Empires it was different.
“You don’t believe it though.”
“I don’t need you to tell me a hundred times over,” Impulse replied bitterly.
A small part of him felt guilty for such bitterness, but he was having a hard time really caring what his attitude was like at this point.
And despite all pushing away and despite all rudeness, Gem didn’t just fly off or give up. “There’s a lot more to a person than just what they can do for people,” she said gently, forcing him into a hug. “You’re not just some raid farm or some special mallet or some redstone engineer. But when you get so caught up in it, you lose all the other amazing characteristics that make you great. And then you’re left with nothing but a pile of useless accomplishments.”
Useless accomplishments.
“They’re not useless,” he tried arguing, though his argument was very weak.
“Nobody cares about what item you can produce for them. Nobody cares about what you bring to the table. All that you’re doing doesn’t matter but you’re acting like it does. Sure it’s nice to have the totems and the emeralds and anything else you’re bringing back, but what good is it to your relationship with people? All you’re becoming is an asset.”
Nothing more than a trophy, sitting up on the top shelf.
“Then what’s the point of the farms?” The words almost held a bitter air to them, if Impulse actually felt like sounding annoyed. It was more disappointment he felt. He had wasted his time. Gem was right in front of him, confirming it.
“It’s not bad to be helpful. It’s good, even. But it’s bad that you always think you have to be the best at everything. And I mean this in all kindness and love, but you are the only one who cares if you’re the best or not. We’ll be proud about your successes only when you have a healthier relationship with them.”
If there was anyone who was going to knock sense into him, he didn’t expect it to be Gem. But it was well-meant from Gem. If it were anyone else, he might’ve not taken to actually listening.
She pulled him into another hug, this time he actually reciprocated it. “You’re worth so much more than a build. Remind yourself that. Telling yourself that you’re being stupid for wanting to be seen isn’t helpful.”
Impulse nodded, taking in the words without fighting back at them.
Gem pulled away from the hug, taking a long look at him. “We’re going to Hermittopia, and I won’t make you explain everything in your head, but at least talk to some people. They worry. I worry.”
He fought back a twist in his stomach that begged them to not worry, insisting that he was perfectly fine. At the same time, he fought the desire of being seen, that pleaded they worry and love him.
“It’s okay. We don’t hate you. It’s not a burden. We all care about each other and that’s why we check in,” Gem reminded him before they took off.
“Yeah. Fair.”
“And you’d do the exact same, so stop acting guilty about it.” Gem may have said the words with aggression, a bit of ferocity, but still so obviously meant it out of love. “Come on. I’m not taking off without you, but I’m also not sticking around here. The raid farm’s cool and all, but it’s pretty boring.”
She grabbed onto his hand, forcing him up into the sky with one of her rockets. Despite the sudden boost to the air, he quickly released the elytra, following suit on their way back home.
And as they flew back, he really considered the full rant Gem had given him.
He was involved in Hermittopia, and whether or not he was the face of it didn’t matter. That was the point of their empire. They were a team, not a singular person. And the world would know them for the way they treated each other and not how great or accomplished they were.
Of course, he might just have to repeat it a few times before he fully believed it.