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Viking was hunched over a mirror, he was looking over himself, each strand of hair, his weirdly dull heterochromatic blue and yellow eyes, his smile…
He pokes at his face, annoyed. It's still the same face from when he first landed in this world. There is something wrong with him, and Viking is one to know that, to notice that, he just doesn't know what , and it's driving him crazy.
He purposely didn't look up at his own head. There is a balance in wanting to know and knowing to not poke around.
He hums, going up and down a pitch. He is still not sure what it is.
His face looks normal. His eyes are also normal, blue and yellow, like he always remembers them being.
He feels weird, he feels empty, he feels wrong .
He put his Hawaiian shirt back, it sits wrong how- messed? It is, it feels lacking. The dots of yellow flowers against the blue are not really what he would expect himself to wear. What would he wear instead?
He put his bucket hat back on, holding a shiver. No one in this world has seen him without it.
No one will if he has a say on it.
Skulk is a really curious thing. It clung to his bed, as explosion after explosion took out the blocks in his surroundings. Viking didn't pay much attention to it.
It's a fungus, a strange one at that. In another life, he felt like he would feel kinship for it, a morbid interest that would drive him to insanity uncovering what the cities full of skulk hide. But here? Here he was just bored .
He didn't pay attention to the skulk.
He didn't notice when it climbed his leg, gnawing in his skin, eating him alive.
He was just bored .
And then, he won! Obviously he won, he is Viking Pilot, he always wins when he puts his mind onto it.
And then he died. Avid came flying by, jumping with him, shouting about how he did it! He did it, he won! And then he hugged him, his furred arms warm against his pale chill skin. They both laughed, spinning in a tangle of limbs, until Avid pushed him over the edge.
Dying, be it in Skyblock, or in normal words – even if day after day Viking find it hard to remember how a normal world is supposed to be like – it's normal, it's expected.
It still hurts, the void clings to his lungs, taking his breath away. And he feels a sick crunch, as his body is compacted by the unforgiving pressure of the void, like a can being stepped over and over again. Blood and bones and organs and muscles, becoming a homogeneous mucus, that is to be digested by the void.
And then he is back; entire as he is supposed to be, the violent death barely a thought on his head.
He woke up on his skulk covered bed, and groaned out loud.
“You didn't break my bed!” Viking laughed. “Avid you did not-” He shouted, startled, when he looked down at his feet, there was skulk clinging to his skin, like a tiny parasite that knew its end was near. “Oh no no no, you go away.” He didn't had a knife to get it off, putting his hands there wouldn't help . He screamed louder. “AVID, YOU DIDN'T BREAK MY BED.”
Avid came flying, like an angel- or one of those monkeys from The Wizard of Oz.
He came laughing, full belly. Viking tried to meet his energy, but it's hard with the thing eating his skin at each second that passed.
“I am sorry I have to do this again, I am sorry.” Avid laughed, not really sorry for the deaths he just caused, giddy with the chaos of his own creation. He broke the bed, his wings catching him as he fell with Viking, rockets ready on his hand, he ignited it, flying away from yet another demise.
Viking screeched, as he fell into the abyss below, the skulk still clinging to his skin, but that was an easy fix after respawn.
The void welcomed him, feeding from his body, from his screams that faded as his lungs were compacted together in a single mess.
He was never one to purposely feed the void, or even to avoid it completely.
To Viking, the void just is.
And now he is in the void.
And now he died again.
He woke up, on the ceiling of Birch Please, in the middle of the world, feeling giddy with his victory.
He dropped on the ground, he couldn’t feel the skulk, but it's still clung to his skin, like the parasite it is.
“I don't have time for this.” He gruffed out, annoyed, even if still riding on the feeling of victory. “I will deal with you later, I need to grab my prize… whatever that is.”
He started his trek back to the Jungle Kingdom, just a quick stop by an ender chest to grab some socks and put them over the skulk infection and he was good to go!
Man it would be great if the prize was an I.O.U of some kind- not Avid's though.
In the book ‘how to get rid of Skulk for dummies’ there is a three step way to get rid of skulk growing in a player's skin.
Step one; Preferably, with help of a fellow player, use a knife to carve the skin, flesh and even bones around the skulk, removing the visibly infected parts.
It will be painful, so make sure if you can, to have pain relievers with you, be it a golden carrot, a turtle master potion or other items at your disposal. Do not use any type of strong regeneration items. They will mess with your recovery.
If you are a hardcore player, go to page 26 ‘fire can stop the spread’ instead of following through step two.
Step two; As it is, the skulk will grow back if left unattended or covered. The best non damaging way to get rid of it, is to trigger respawn while still having the open wound untouched.
For safe ways to do it go to page 36 ‘safe non skulk ways to die’
Step three; Lay down and rest for at least a few hours, severed limbs growing back are always more hard to deal with than normal deaths. A respawn after a big injury is always your best option.
If the skulk comes back, go back to step one and repeat.
Viking sank the sharp blade of a dagger into his leg.
A normal player would have screamed, a normal player would at least shouted, tears pricking on their eyes, a normal player would at least drank something for the pain instead of doing it cold turkey.
Viking grunted, annoyed with the resistance his own flesh and bones was putting in. His entire foot and part of his leg were already infected, unsalvageable. So the best thing to do is amputate it.
Totally a sane man's thought.
He was sitting by one of the corners of Beetroot Kingdom, surely the already red scenario would help to hide the pool of red that expanded at each tug he gave on the knife.
It's delicate work. Can't be half done, unless he wants to do it again, thus he was being careful, painfully slow if anyone but himself were to be asked.
Blood was covering his hands, covering his infected leg and the skulk festering on it, the fungus way too tiny and underdeveloped to be able to realize its demise was coming.
A foul smell permeated the air, rotten and poisonous. Viking breathed through his nose, used to the smell, but disgusted by it.
“It's okay, it's fine. Keep going, Viking. Keep going.” He talked with himself, voice shaky.
It wasn't even all the blood that disturbed him, nor the act of carving his own leg out of his body. It's the sudden reminder that he isn’t alone on his own skin.
Viking Pilot has a bunch of things he refuses to acknowledge.
One of them is the thing under his hat, another is the things under his skin.
Everyone has their origins. Everyone has the way they got into this world one way or another.
Fix told him he just- woke up there, an island and a reason to keep going. The robot thought he knew Viking from somewhere, but Viking had never seen the man in his entire life.
But well, he and Fix go together well enough.
Viking isn't sure if it's luck or not that he got there before Fix. Because well, he didn't spawn there no, no . He clawed his way out of the void, his fingers were stained with dirt, and he smelled of death.
A thing no one tells you about crawling yourself out of the void, is that with the void comes-
“Darned maggots, you stay there.” Viking glared annoyed at the bug crawling out of his exposed flesh.
The purple worm didn't look like it cared, though. Sluggish crawling out of his almost severed leg.
Viking huffed, pondering if he should stab the thing out of existence, before shaking his head, letting the knife go and grabbing the bug with his bloodied fingers.
“You are lucky I need something to act as my digestive system.”
The endermite struggled on his hold, but didn't try to bite him, the fight more an instinctual act, than a necessary one. Viking rolled his eyes, putting the thing on his mouth and swallowing it before he could rethink his decisions in life.
He gagged, coughing as the thing crawled back to its place. He passed a hand through his hair, fixing his hat, making a mess of himself, blood covering his face, as if he just got out of a murder scene.
He huffed at the thought. The only thing being murdered here is his time that could be used for better things.
“Let's finish this before Ruby decides it's a good moment to remember that our shared project is a thing.”
The knife was back in his hand, now cutting skin, muscle and bones with renewed vigor, eager to finish this before another integral part of his digestive and circulatory system decided that getting out of the thing keeping both of them alive was a good idea.
He took a sharp breath, with a last cut of the knife he reached for his inventory, grabbing his axe and swinging it, breaking his leg bone, the last thing holding the leg to his body. And like that, the limb was out, the infection spreading on it, even when disconnected from Viking.
He tisked seeing the skulk reaching for the beetroot soil, he nudged it with his axe and the tendrils receded back to the leg, reminiscing of when you poke a slug in the eyes.
“Don't touch the beets.” He scolded as if the fungus would listen to him. Wow he is really lonely if he is talking with his severed leg like that.
Viking sighed, pinching his nose, spreading more blood on his face and hat. He grabbed the limb, looking at it disgusted, it smelled foul, it had a foul look, it wasn't him anymore, just a nuisance to be taken care of.
There was a disconnecting there that you would expect perhaps from a robot like Fix, not from someone flesh and bones like Viking.
He remembers helping Fix change his arm, take it off, put a new better one in place, to Viking this is basically the same .
He looked between the limb, and the edge of the world, before crawling, dragging himself through the plantation, the trail of blood disguised by the already blood red plant that populates the island.
He crawled, until there was nothing between himself and the void.
His only leg dangled from the abyss, he sat and took a deep breath.
The void just is.
It's from where he came, and from where he will never go back. Not permanently at least.
Viking dropped the infected leg over the edge, watching as it vanished in the black abyss.
He giggled, tired, looking at the stump that still bleed sluggish on the edge of the block.
“You better grow back.” And here he goes talking with inanimate objects again. “You better grow back, because if you don't, I will be in big big trouble, and for all that I love Vintage, I don't wanna be a cyborg like them, capiche?” The stump didn't answer, and Viking rolled his eyes.
Wordlessly, with a single push of his bloodied hands, Viking saw himself plummeting into the abyss again.
Death came quickly. And so came the realization.
“Did I set my spawn?”
“Hey Fool, come here.” Milkman poked his head through Birch Please's door, looking more wide eyed than normal.
“Mnn?” Fool was hunched over their payment chest, counting the logs. Doak forgot to pay again. “Yes, MM?”
“I uh– I know this is our shady business and all of that. But did you kill someone at Birch Please?” Milkman glanced nervously at his back, as if someone would come out of nowhere and try to murder one of them.
Fool just raised an eyebrow, passing a hand through his face and taking a bit of the excess liquid gold off it. “Not that I remember, no. Did someone mail us a body, again?”
“Again- what? Fool- what?” Milkman looked baffled at his island partener before shaking his head. “You know what- I will worry about that later. Follow me.” He gestured with his hand, walking out of the door. Fool closed the chest, getting up and walking in a slow pace to the door, his curiosity enticed.
When he got out, Milkman was on the roof, pacing around, looking concerned to say the least.
“Fool, come here!” He gestured with his hands, a bit frantic.
With a rocket and a flutter of his frail wings Fool was at his side.
“Holly- who died here?” Fool whistled, looking impressed with the bloody work.
A big, big part of the roof was covered in blood, staining the beige colored wood with a deep red, to someone more clueless it would look like the roof was made of mangrove instead of birch.
An endermite of all things crawled in Fool's direction, he looked disgusted at the thing before stepping on the bug, killing it.
Milkman shook his head. “I have no idea.” He looked at all the blood. “Do you think someone is trying to frame us?”
“Why would someone need to frame us?” Fool raised an eyebrow, gesturing this time to the entirety of Birch Please and not only the bloody stained roof. “It's not like we have been running a highly profitable scam since the start of the server or something.”
“Even so-” Milkman hummed, before huffing. “We already have a court case against us, we don't need a murder allegation on top of it.” He pushed his cap over his eyes. “You start breaking it, I will go grab more birch wood.” He smiles. “You know the saying, Fool. What the eyes can't see.”
“ Vintage can't sue me.” Fool sang, grabbing his axe .
Milkman snorted. “Close enough.”
On the other side of the map, Viking was hunched over a caldron, scrubbing his bloodied clothes, grumbling about the fact that his right leg was now one shade lighter than before.
He was yet again hunched over a mirror.
This is routine at this point.
Viking never had that big of a self image problem or something, there is just something wrong.
Something was always wrong, and he ignores the ravager in the room while at the same time looking for it.
He holds his hat with white knuckles.
No one has seen him without it.
No one needs to .
It's okay, it's fine.
Everything will be alright.
He puts the hat back on. Vintage was already pinging him on the general chat, and he doesn't want to make everyone wait for him.
“Hey, Hey M1G, hey M1G do you want to play a game of rock paper and scissors?”
It was just simple mischief, really. Everyone was shouting, taking distance from Fool, who just put an explosive in the middle of the room, the man looked unhinged and at the same time thriving. Fool does have a knack for dramatics.
He and M1G were at a safe distance, but they were also both holding their bows.
Just let it go, if he let it go, it would be funny.
Images of things he never lived flashed unprompted in between his eyes, making a ruckus on his head, pain runned through his skull like if cracking him right in the middle.
He dropped his bow, and neither he nor M1G ended shooting.
Avid, his glorious, dumb as a singular brick, monkey of a friend- Avid ran in the bomb's direction instead, exploding it and killing Elffe of all people.
Viking would be amused, laughing with the crowd as the second bomb – which took Fool and Avid's life – exploded, if it wasn't for the way he clutched his bucket hat with white knuckles. The way he felt momentarily split in two. It was as if his biggest fear had come true, even if only for a second or two.
He breathed in and out, hunching on himself, everyone was screaming and in the middle of the panic a warm hand touched his back.
“Viking, breathe .”
He closed his eyes at some point, the voice sounded under water, and he followed it, desperate for a gulp of fresh air.
“Breathe with me, You are doing great, dude. Come on Viking. You can do it.”
“M1G?” Viking opened his eyes. Purple worried ones looked at his dull yellow and blue ones.
They were out of the courthouse, by a bench someone built, M1G must have dragged him there or something.
“Yeah, yeah. Are you- are you okay?” M1G scratched the back of his neck, not that good at this type of stuff. His big dragon wings were pressed closed on his back, trying to look as unthreatening as possible, with Viking just out of a panic attack like that.
“Did anyone else see me?” Was the first thing he blurted. The idea of everyone watching his little freak out was- terrifying , to say the least.
M1G scrunched his face, looking and looking and looking at him. “I don't think so.” He shook his head, his pointed ears twitched as if listening to something. “No one followed us at least.”
Viking took a big breath, trying to calm himself. “That's- that's good.” He put a hand on his head making sure his hat was still in place, before getting up from the bench, his legs shaking, but refusing to give up. “Thanks for the help, M1G. I- this never happened okay? If you need something from Dark oak, just- grab it. I am sure Fix will not miss anything.” He giggled a bit crazed, looking at M1G, who looked thoughtful over his thin veiled bribe.
“Viking…” M1G said his name slowly, like if talking with a scared child, he looked over Viking's shoulders as his ear twitched listening to something again. “When you panicked, your- you- I can't hear a heartbeat on you dude. Just a bunch of-”
Viking lunged, his dull yellow and blue eyes were wide open, his hand was on M1G's throat, and he looked unhinged when he said.
“You saw nothing, right?” He was shaking, teeth clenched, almost begging for M1G to drop it and to go with his plea.
M1G eyes flashed in recognition, his fingers twitched as if reflexively looking for a weapon, before his startled panic was substituted by an eerie calm, his eyes swirled a mix of colours when he said. “I also didn't hear anything, I have no idea what you are talking about, dude.” He raised his hands, at the same time that Viking let him go.
The dragon opened his wings, stretching them, having tensed with the sudden attack. “You will be good, uh- walking by yourself after the- uh absolutely nothing that just happened.” He scratched the back of his neck again, his eyes now settled on a dark brown.
Viking snorted. “I have two good legs, M1G. Don't worry, it will be fine. I need to talk with Ruby.” He waved a hand, dismissively, walking without looking back at the dragon who was just awkwardly standing there.
“If you say so.” M1G mumbled to himself. His ear twitched.
Viking's lack of heartbeat was louder than any sound coming from inside the court house.
“Hey Avid.” Viking's whisper was loud in the silence of night.
They were both watching the stars. He and Avid, on a lonely part of Jungle Kingdom.
The monkey invited him there, wanting to hang out. It was a pleasant night, obviously Viking was going to ruin it.
“Yeah, Viking?” Avid was tuning his guitar, he looked up from his mess of strings, to look at Viking, who was laying against the jungle leaves.
“Why- did you notice?” He was still looking at the stars, his hands were clenching at the leaves, messing with them.
Avid hummed “Noticed what , Viking?”
“Ruby is acting weird.” He blurted. “And he keeps mentioning you as an excuse when I try to talk about it.” Viking was now sitting cross legged, dull eyes looking sharply at Avid.
The monkey tensed, his fingers still caressed through the strings of the guitar. “I don't know Viking, Ruby looks normal to me. They have been working hard at O.S.S.H.A.”
Viking scoffed, any easy going atmosphere on the date like experience gone.
“Right, because everything is about O.S.S.H.A these days.” He shook his head, messing with his hat. “What is so bad about the void, after all? This has passed safety and become an obsession, Avid.”
Avid flinched. “The void, Viking. Is bad , everything there is bad . People have to stop falling there.” He spat when saying that, words said with such vitriol that made Viking flinch.
The void just is.
It's not hate, it's not love, but it's not bad.
Viking came from there after all, clawed his way into this world from there.
Avid had a look in his eyes that made him want to flee.
Viking knows insanity, he sees it every time he looks at the mirror. Avid looked insane.
Viking got up, and so did Avid. The monkey barely got to his shoulders when standing up. But there was something about him. Viking knows he needs to go.
“I- Avid, I think I am going now. This was a great talk, wonderful night. Love ya buddy.” He stuttered, giggling to himself. His panic clear on his face, he turned, wings ready to take off.
He did not feel it, but he heard it. A sick crunch, as Avid hit him on the back of the head with his guitar, he collapsed on the leaves, not ready for the sudden impact.
“You are going nowhere Viking. You clearly need to be saved from the void.” He crouched, passing a hand on the strands of hair that escaped Viking's hat. “I will save you, I will save everyone.” He whispered. Attacking Viking was a decision of the moment, but now there is no backing away.
With surprising strength Avid grabbed Viking's unconscious body on a fireman's carry, the blonde grumbled, his eyes were foggy, but he didn't struggle, too out of it to process what was happening to himself.
His wings opened, ready to fly, his guitar was back into his inventory and he grabbed a rocket reading himself for the two person fly, he jumped out of the tree, wings open, grabbing a current of air, taking the fastest way to O.S.S.H.A.
It was sudden, Viking punched Avid on the face, with renewed vigor, his eyes were foggy, and he was clearly not 100% there, but he struggled with surprising strength to someone who looked dead to the world.
Avid shouted, struggling, trying to grab Viking, who tried his best to set himself free.
It was a lot of tugging and shouting, but in the end, with a kick on Avid's guts, the blonde managed to set himself free. Plummeting to the void, too out of it to be able to equip his wings in time. Avid dashed after him, fingers almost reaching him, but it was too late.
{VikingPilot feel out of the world}
The monkey landed at O.S.S.H.A, eyes wide and blood dripping from his nose. In his hand a blue hat with yellow flowers sat innocently.
He looked terrified at his comm, waiting for Viking to respawn, for him to expose him, for all his hard work to go down the drain.
And he waited.
A minute passed, and nothing.
A hour.
Two hours.
An entire night.
The sun rose in the sky, and Viking was still not back.
Avid breathed in and out, realizing what he did.
“I killed Viking.” He laughed a bit unhinged, tears escaping his eyes. “Oh- God. I- I, I killed Viking.”
He looked at the hat on his hand, strands of hair clinged to it. And he laughed, incredulous, knowing what he needs to do. “I am so, so sorry.” He gingerly touched the object, a soft look on his face. “I can bring you back. Viking I am so sorry.” He shook his head. “No one will notice the difference, I will bring you back, I promise.”
The void is cold.
The void is devoid of life.
The void is lonely and hungry and destroys everything that it touches.
When Viking wakes up, his head is split in two, everything hurts .
He normally doesn't feel pain, but everything hurts, everything is pain, the body and the soul he doesn't own fight to go back into existence.
Surrounding him, there is void.
The void is devoid of life.
Yet, Viking is there. Not that he was alive to begin with .
Some would describe the void as nothing.
Some would call it a lake, a pool of darkness and destruction.
The last time they talked, Marmalade said it is alive.
To Viking the void is dirt, it's a pressure against his chest, suffocating all of his thoughts, burying him in nothingness.
He knows he didn't die in the void initially, his own death a mystery he doesn't really wish to uncover the truth of.
The void isn't his cause of death, but the void is his graveyard. It was where he was disposed of, clearly someone didn't want him to come back. Too bad Viking isn't one to do what other people want. Not like that, at least.
His fingers twitched, dirt covered his hands, he opened his mouth and no air escaped it, no air entered It, he gagged with the entire nothingness that invaded his mouth, filling his lungs.
There is no dying a second time. He thought to himself.
Not like this, he refuses .
He moved his hands, clawing at the great expanse of the void, he isn’t going down, better to dig up.
And he dug, and he dug, and kept digging. His own fingers ripping the dirt, chipping his nails, painting himself in hues of purple and black, clawing his way out of another early grave.
It was thundering, rain washed the bridges leading to O.S.S.H.A.
It was dark, it was cold. A hand grabbed one of the railings, rising himself up, back into even terrain.
The body slumped, his hair and clothes heavy from the water, the rain cleansing his limbs from the dark stains of the void.
There is something wrong with Viking Pilot, and he is one to know that.
His eyes were wide open, crazed, dead as the day he was killed. His hat was nowhere to be seen, in his hairline sat a big gaping hole, cracked open, exposing everything inside to the harsh weather. Cracks and wounds runned from the hole, down his head, blood smeared on his hair and neck, down his face, almost on one of his eyes.
He raised a shaky hand, tracing the wound. It was bigger, way bigger than he remembers it being .
“Oh Avid.” He giggled, hand now covering the crack, his yellow eye almost glowing, now that the other was covered. “You really fucked up, buddy. You really did fuck up this time.”
He got up with jerky movements, like a puppet being controlled by strings, endermites crawled out of the crack on his head, almost like worms attracted by the rain, the creatures hissed, melting on the water.
“Stupid ender beings.” Viking pushed the bugs back into the crack, in a futile game of whack a mole. “Living in blood really messed with y’all’s danger sense.” He grumbled, complaining about the things that live under his skin, putting one foot after another. Stiff muscles not used to do anything but crawl and dig for days.
He stumbled upon O.S.S.H.A, anger boiled his blood upon the sign of the place.
Viking knows insanity, he sees it everytime he looks in the mirror.
He knocked on the entrance of O.S.S.H.A
“Oh Avid.” He giggled, calling the name out loud, almost singing it, his fingers twitched, looking for a sword that his empty inventory lacked. “I need my hat back, buddy.”