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There has always been a unique loneliness about Fig. Xe never really understood the other Helpers and could never even imagine understanding the Watchers, so instead xe always had an eye on the players… everyone did, but Fig for different reasons. Fig didn’t want to watch them suffer, despite the hungry, despite xer own pain, xe liked it better when they would just… exist. Bake bread. Plant crops. Make nice houses and gardens…
Xe sits in the Void, scanning through some of the flowers in the Overworld. It’s early game so everyone is just kinda minding their own business… but something catches xer eye…
Huh. It’s not uncommon for alliances to be created, but xe staggers on one scene in particular…
Players are already set up in a nice, cosy house. They smile, laughing at something Fig just cannot hear. Xe stares through the window as a sunflower outside of the house, xer body in the Void slouches as xe stares, transfixed by the rose-golden glow from the house. The players sit around a small wooden table, candles organized neatly at the center of it, the house is not well decorated, or at least this room isn’t, but it still feels like-
Home.
. . .
Fig allows xerself to be caught in this warm web… xe thinks about eating and laughing with others again, telling stories, giving gifts, allowing xerself to be vulnerable and happy with those xe could love. Fig imagines xerself in that room, talking with these players, listening intently to whatever this conversation could be about, maybe about decorating the rest of the house, or making a farm, or taming animals, or cooking, or just anything that comes to mind. Xe doesn’t care, xe just likes talking to others! They would be such good friends, they all look so happy, almost like family! A lovely cacophony of voices all talking about how their days had gone, a book they read, complaining about annoying mobs, telling stories of mining adventures it’s all so-!
Nothing.
Fig blinks. The warmth fades away into darkness as xe becomes tied back to xer reality. There is nobody sitting beside xer, nobody talking about how their day had gone, nobody to share a meal with.
Nothing.
… Fig will probably never have friends here. Xe will hope, xe will try, but the reality of xer situation weighs heavy in xer chest.
Xe never felt right for this job, xe has never felt right anywhere. Amongst all the chatter of the games starting, Helpers excited for a meal, Fig felt guilt. A lump in xer throat whenever player death was brought up. But xe always smiled and agreed because that is what will make people like xer-
Right?
. . .
Fig slowly wraps xer arms around xerself, trying to mimic a hug. Xe misses being xerself. Xe misses being cared about. Xe misses hearing the voices of others just talking about mundane things- no death no suffering- just life. Mundane life.
Oh how xe wishes to be a player again.
… Xe shouldn’t think like that. Crow saved xer… Xe thinks. Xe should be thankful for him!.. Or is he the reason xe-
Oh well. Nothing more xe can do about it. Xe closes xer eyes, the darkness and silence consuming xer.
Maybe if xe just falls asleep it will all be over.
And xe doesn’t have to feel so alone.