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"What on earth?" Xisuma muttered, "The biome presence variable shows he's supposed to be in the NetherWasteland, but his movement status is swimming, Keralis, what has he done? I swear if he and Doc have broken the code again..." He sighed, exasperated, and cursing his decision to become admin.
"Maybe he's got fire prot? I think he mentioned something about wanting a strider the other day," Keralis queried, hand resting comfortably on X's plated shoulder.
"Hm, but PotionEffects isn't carrying any data, while his HealthBar has the 20 value so he can't be burning?!" The guitarist exclaimed, rising frustration evident in tensioned muscles sweeping through code screens, "Plus he isn't answering any stupid comms!"
"Look, Shashwham, you're clearly stressed! How about you go talk to him, sort it out, yes? And I'll help your pretty face wind down after, how's that sound?"
"Fine, fine, but if you say '1, 2, 3, stretch and relax' or whatever at any point, I'll... I don't know, whatever," he said flatly, only met with a mischievous giggle as Keralis not-so-gracefully pushed him out the door.
__________
Tracking coords never gave the admin any trouble, but what did, was that the player tracked as currently under an open sea of lava, taking no damage and moving very, very quickly. He tried calling the redstoner up many times but to no avail; turns out, it's pretty hard to hear anything when submerged in lava. The magma felt so very strange, consistency somewhere between soup and a space walk, but warmer, almost unbearably so, even with fire protection bubbling away. To irritate and further drain Xisuma of his senses, the thick, shifting orange haze concealed the ocean's true depth and visibility, the former fact turning over his stomach as he tightened his grip on jagged rock. Is there some form of thalassophobia but for lava? If there was, X certainly felt he had it.
8 minutes. 8 minutes of potion in this quite literal hell-scape to find Tango, question and/or fix him and get out back into safety with Papa K. Somehow both 8 minutes too long and 8 minutes not enough for this seemingly impossible task. A sweep of moving magma unsteadied the voidwalker, breaking the uncomfortable peace - rigid fear grabbed his thoughts - something had moved right beside him without him even spotting it. A fluid motion, something at home here, likely scoping the armour-clad invader. A moment passed of fright tearing at his insides and the molten rock stilled, eerily untroubled - he hopes with all his pounding void-given heart it was just some current passing through. A hand grabbed at his calf - he yelped, panicked sounds pouring from his mouth in futile efforts, constrained by the soundlessness. He spun around, as fast as the soupy liquid would allow him - only to be met with the toothy grin of no one but the man he was looking for. Relief gathered in his chest, releasing as he exhaled into the helmet vents. A moment of confused silence passed, before X, so geniusly, thought to type into his comm.
"Came to talk about your code," the admin sent, followed by, "How are you not dying?"
"Netherborn. Basically natural fire prot, y'know?"
"Seriously??" X exclaimed, waving his free arm about frantically, before pressing in a new message, "I thought Netherborn were just IDK better adapted to nether conditions but not SWIM AND SPEAK IN LAVA JUST FINE! >:-(" Tango cackled coarsely, clearly able to easily read the guitarist's outrage.
"Hold yourself there, I'll be back in a moment," the blazeborn typed back, not wanting to alienate the other in his homeland, before turning to dive away. Sharp claws dug into the netherrack, strong arms and legs pushing off the jagged ledges, deeper into the depths below. His tail now had a few visible fins adorning it, crimson leather perfectly accented by the gold sugar-glass texture of the webbing; the admin noted how it acted more to balance and streamline, than to propel. As the netherborn pulled himself further into the depths, becoming more and more obscured by the orange haze, Xisuma checked his inventory - 5 and a half minutes left of protection left. 5 and a half minutes to ponder the perfect harmony of the nether's nature and the being born of it. Tango had never looked so perfect. Somehow both an omnipotent being, untouched by age, forming the world around itself as it pleases; and yet something so humble, a mortal beast moulded by the land's hands, a simple product of survival and evolution. Built for it, like a worm to soil, avians to the sky, but the unification with the most unforgiving, unloving realm made the man so much more special.
X had never felt so out of place. The so-human-looking hands, used by the admin for any redeeming act he could fathom, but ultimately, meant to hurt, just like the void he came from. A blessing and a curse, his mix of immoral, cruel humanity, and the power of the void in his veins to carry out those too-human thoughts. Only his own better conscience and moral compass stopped him at times, he thought. And here he floated comfortably, magma faux-familiar to bobbing in the void, but being entirely an intruder in this environment, a puzzle piece that doesn't quite fit. He voiddamn knew he was spiralling, if just-
Pretty red eyes appeared in front of his own.
"Look, look X! I brought- X? You ok there buddy?" the excitable redstoner paused, taking in the spacey look behind the visor. The admin nodded quickly, catching Tango’s face wash over with a flash of worry, “Uh- Right, so! I was thinking, could we try farm some of these…uh-,” the netherborn paused, glancing down at a handful of some unfamiliar nether vegetation, “Well, I don’t really know how to translate them int-“
X knew the smarter thing to do would be to listen, the other most probably explaining how to collaborate on some genius design for overworld farm for these… plants?.. but the voidwalker’s mind only trained on the other’s features. Even as he spoke, an ever-present grin graced the blaze’s face. From the gleam of dominating canines, to the crinkling of crow's feet and simply adorable dimples, X would move mountains to rouse a smile, a laugh from the other - heck, maybe he will. A perfect mix of sharp features and soft expressions, Tango proved to be over and over. The guitarist was damn glad for his helmet, the burn of a flush overpowering even the literal lava.
“Can I touch your hair?" Xisuma typed in, hitting send before thinking.
"Where'd that come from? I was talking 'bout farmification! Was it that boring, hm?" Tango squawked, but yet moved closer, “Well- uhm, please? No one, uh, ever does, or well, can," the redstoner sighed coyly, guiding an armour plated hand to the locks. It was hair for once - usually alight and obscured in flame - but no, under the lava, a halo of gold crowned Tango. Above shoulder length, not too thick but not too fine, a beautiful shade of blonde unmatched by overworld genetics and sprawling out in the viscous magma. Fuck, he needed to touch it with his hand. Feel its texture and tease out the knots surely woven in.
So he did. A plated glove discarded into inventory, the molten liquid stung the sensitive skin as if dipping into a too-hot bath after a long day. Under his fingertips, the locks greeted him, twining round his wrist almost as if to pull him closer; the two hermits were drawn into a not-quite hug, contact tentative but not awkward, more reverent and fragile than anything. Such a rare sight, or rather sensation, to hold and behold Tango's hair, just the thought stirred a few butterflies in the guitarist's core. Meanwhile, the redstoner's hard muscles released uknoen tension as Xisuma continued gently petting through the strands, working out tangles with such tenderness. A soft rumble emanated, felt more than heard, from the netherborn, and his tail snaked down to coil the admin's calf. A sense of serenity and stillness settled, heartbeats slowing; as over-exhaustion seeped into the admin's body, the all-consuming warmth soothed the aches and pains. Together the two floated, a perfect equilibrium of natural buoyancy and dimensional gravity; the suspension instinctual to both, one in the void, and the other right here.
Beep beep.
Seconds left on the potion, that meant. A scramble of limbs unfurling, rushing for the rocky shores and thrashing, Xisuma clawed himself on shore just as the fire resistance icon vanished from his visor.
"Well there goes a nice moment."
The duo barked out coarse chuckles, slowly dissolving into a comfortable quiet, only broken by recovering breaths and popping boils of lava as it resettled. X found himself missing the warmth, easily able to see how Tango could so leisurely call it home, as the sudden adrenaline drained from his form.
"Are you freezificating up there?" Tango cocked his head as the other slowly curled into himself, as he himself remained half submerged, torso rested against the banks.
"Well, I don't know, I just crawled out of the molten magma I was getting used to, am I freezing?" Xisuma chipped, leaning into the other's space, smug.
"Alright sass-pot, c'mere," Tango surged forwards, hands on either side of X's helmet, and planted a kiss; right on the violet visor, holding long enough for a sizzling dark spot to appear in the wearer's line of sight, matching handprints likely singed into the sides too.
“Hot enough for you now?” The netherborn quipped, enticing an equally snarky response that never came. Instead, he peered down to see Xisuma, most often a very collected and composed hermit, with eyes wider than dinner plates. Dumbfounded, gaze landing somewhere between the smoky kiss mark and the magma-dripping hermit, X certainly felt pleasantly warm as a burning blush rose up. The idea of having a kiss on him at all times stirred some rather fluttery feeling in his chest not quite explainable, and all of a sudden, his suit of armour felt a little too hot.
"Y'know I would've pulled you back in if only it didn't kill you." That snapped the idiot out his lovey stupor.
"So the kissies are just a secondary thought? Wow, aren't you just such a romantic?" X snorted, turning away as he reanimated, “I see how it is.”
"Aaand there's the sassy X I know and love," Tango grinned, inciting a soft and mildly-embarrassed chuckle from the admin. As the wisp of smoke fully dissipated, as did conversation; Xisuma idly absorbed the redstoner's hair sparking back to its most-known form, whilst the other absorbed the homely sounds of the nether with simmering lava, snorting hoglins and the whoosh of warm breezes that swept across the wastelands.
"I can't believe- you looked so.... so natural down there," X calmly interrupted the meditative quiet.
"Wow it's almost like it's my habitat," Tango snapped sarcastically, lopsided smirk adorning his cheeks.
"Alright, alright, that's my bad," the taller giggled at his own derp, smile evident in the creased corners of his eyes, "But really, you look just, so beautiful like that, agh, Void I can't phrase it!"
"Oh hush it,” the blazeborn's face reheated with a flush, more genuine smile washing over his cheeks.