Chapter Text
Grian was settled amongst the hermits in the same way that water would accept salt in the sea, no one would be capable of saying that he didn't belong.
He was a hermit, he had friends, family and flock, his instincts said. But there was something that would sometimes settle like fluttering insects in his stomach, he felt like he was lying to some, if not most, of them.
Xisuma of course knew, as an admin he needed to know most information about his players, he knew that mumbo knew, his mumbo knew because he was the one to find him mangled in a steel contraption on his single-player creative redstone testing world. Pearl knew, because she was one of the same like him, almost like feathers of the same bird. Scar now knew, he knew that since the soul bound he probably would be a little aware of the facts surrounding him, but after he became an champion he was the one that most knew.
Those were the ones that knew for sure, but Grian, really thought that most of his server and friends knew but were careful to not step his boundaries really saying anything. But he didn't care, as long as everyone was safe, from him, from his captors, from the watchers.
First he heard the rockets, an excited -grain grain grain! it sounded ready for trouble.
Gem was in her attire for this season, showing off excitedly a bucket in her hands.
-what it-is-it? His voice dropped an octave, he didn't really pin-pointed from who this mimicking was.
-Look! She tilted her bucket slightly, Grian could see the creature, if it was a rare-blue axolotl.
-who, wait, were you breeding those guys this season?
-wait, what? No! I found him in a cave I was picking up clay for my next project.
-Joel is gonna be so mad, he has been trying since the start to get one of those.
-I know! This makes it more fun, I was thinking about making him work for it like a challenge or something like that. Do you know anything he is bad at?
-Losing?
-C'mon!
Both of their minds were working now, mostly, it was a matter of fact that Joel was a well balanced player, and a very stubborn competitive guy, it would be hard to challenge him in anything.
-I will think about something, see you later Grian! Gem said after some minutes of very loud silence thinking, she pulled on the strap of her Eletra before taking off with more rockets.
Grian was left alone again, with his mind, he looked down trying to remember what he was doing, oh, right, farming.
Squid ink was annoying in exponential levels, he knew from a technical sense that a whiter rose farm would be better, but where would be the fun? He had to stick with his nautical theme.
He got back into the water, with his looting sword, to continue farming.
Nights were the best time for himself, Grian thought. Mostly, you could choose to just skip it with the miracle or commands, or you could enjoy it, by staying awake a little more. For him, sometimes staying awake meant succumbing to the fuzziness on his head.
He wouldn't do it in front of anyone, but here it was just him and Mr. Beak, it didn't feel perfect, but it was good nonetheless.
He tried to do it sparsely. But sometimes we're harder than another, specially after the games, he still felt extremely embarrassed and empty for what happened after the first one and every single one after that- the only one that he had a slightly better memorie of was the fourth game, he didn't felt fuzzy, he mostly couldn't stop of laugh-cry almost an strange sound of warble plus snoring from the sheer irony of his death- but right now, even in times of piece he felt oddly fuzzy, probably his instincts hadn't settled yet on the new world.
He walked to his private room- one that stayed hidden from the guest-visitors, the audience- it was mostly off limits for other hermits, it had his nest-even tho he could sleep alright in an bed, it was always better to sleep in one, now he knew that-and a dresser, also shulkers with his off-world itens. Most of those things would be mementos, all hermits had those, but also useful things that they couldn't produce, like more specializes medicine, specific hygiene products, parts for mechanical things -like all those micro components for prosthetics and cybernetics-, also things that were just strange to be so useful-hinges that were necessary for adapt armor or even just things that they wouldn't really find/could produce for the sake of it, like anything with plastic.
In one of those shulkers it had for him at least a treasure.
It was an small haul, professor beak in his stuffed animal form, an shewing toy, that actually looked like one, on his off days, Grian used one that looked like an single feather, of silicone, red, that blended nicely with his sweater, the hermits would barely notice, and most would really not care, it was an recommendation from doc years ago when they noticed the nervous habit of chewing his fingernails.it served him right, but this one in his opinion was better, round, with a multitude of textures that made his tongue happy. some crayons and spare paper, also some stickers sheets. it wasn’t much, but he didn’t deserve much also, mostly, he was somehow sentimental about this stuff.
Grian picked up professor beak, careful, and walked to his nest, laying down, hugin the beloved stuffie, it felt safe to stroke in between the stuffed and his own feathers.