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Kaboodle flopped onto the floor of her cube, not bothering to reach her bed. She’d just finished Hannah’s room. She slowly sat back into a more comfortable position. Her mind swirled with possibilities, each worse than the last. Turning to stare at her chandelier, she let out a shaky laugh. It had been, what, a week? since she’d locked herself in her box, a week since isolation, a week since Reddoons had betrayed her, a week she’d been going crazy.
“Lesson one,” Clownpierce’s face was a mask of neutrality, though Kaboodle could find a slight smile if she’d looked hard enough. “Attachements will weigh you down. Care for others will be exploited.”
She’d failed that lesson now. She’d cared for her old team, and they’d gone and used that for free labour. Then she’d been killed, betrayed.
“Fuck. I need to stop thinking about them,” Kaboodle cursed, “They don’t deserve it.” Frustratedly, she tugged on her collar, dragging her sweater off into a crumpled light blue heap behind her. Staring at the obsidian walls and the water flowing behind bars, she felt so… small. It was a terrible feeling, she decided right then and there. She also felt quite lonely. Her dog and the despawned bat could only provide so much company after all.
Whatever. What-the-fuck-ever. Huffing angrily, she moved to her feet and stumbled towards her communicator, grabbing the mask that Clown had gifted her oh so long ago and clipped it to her belt. She needed to check if anyone was online. She needed to get materials, too. She had to make sure she was safe when doing so. Blinking to make sure she wasn’t crazy, she double checked that everyone had logged off or not logged on yet. Letting out a shaky sigh, she equipped her armour, making a mental note of all the materials she needed – wool, quartz, maybe some more obsidian if she wanted to expand her box more, maybe a stack of dirt and a grass block… Her mind wandered quickly, eyes flicked unconsciously to Clownpierce’s his room. Maybe she would trust him enough someday. That room would be the only thing of him that she would trust. For now.
Suddenly, a sharp clang snapped her out of her stupor. Glancing down, she saw that she’d accidentally dropped her axe from her inventory. Cursing, she picked it back up and whirled around, grabbing her communicator and pushed it into her inventory. Breaking her enderchest in case she might need it, she took a breath and broke the obsidian block that covered the entrance to her box. Dropping down, she held her breath as the water around her dropped slowly until she was at the bottom. Once she did, she swam forwards and up until she reached the surface. Checking the server list again to make sure no one logged on, she equipped her elytra and flew straight up. Fireworks burned behind her, pushing her through the air like a bird. Checking her coords again, she dove down. She’d reached her nether portal. Landing softly on the ground, she switched her elytra for her chestplate. Tucking her fireworks away, she pulled out her sword instead.
Letting out a sigh, she pushed herself into the portal. The nauseating feeling crashed onto her immediately, and she felt bile rise up. She used to rant to Clown about the feeling. Swallowing it down, she stumbled into the nether. Catching her breath, she rolled her eyes at the state of the nether, nausea forgotten. It was disgusting, random blocks scrambled around the nether, more so on the soul sand valleys. Huffing, Kab took out her pickaxe and started mining. Slowly, her inventory started to fill with random items, though she collected as much quartz as she could. She fell into a rhythm, cut through the netherrack, mine into the quartz, repeat.
She slowly fell into her own thoughts, mindlessly repeating motions while her mind wandered through a forest of thoughts. Suddenly, a sharp pain jabbed itself into her thigh like a knife. Kaboodle yelped, cursing and splashing a fire-res pot. Slowly, the pain dulled, resulting in a mellow heat as she blocked up the hole that the lava burned her from. She grabbed a golden carrot from her inventory, eating as she felt her ears burn from embarrassment and annoyance.
“Lesson number two,” Clown grinned, almost laughing as Kaboodle lay defeated and fake crying, “Don’t let your mind wander. Distraction causes weakness, which is something you don’t want in the midst of a battle, or even when mining.”
Kaboodle let out a hiss of pain as she touched her arm; the fire had spread there when she’d splashed fire-res. A little burnt, but she’d be fine, she thought. Refusing to dwell on her thoughts of Clown, she whirled around and headed back to her portal. Once she pushed through to the Overworld, she took a deep breath and checked her surroundings, player logs, and herself. No one had come online, thankfully, it was daytime, and she was fine. Well. Mostly fine. She stared at her bunny mask. The one she’d hooked to her belt to keep safe. It was now a molten heap of nothing.
Groaning in frustration to hide her despair, she tugged it off with a click and stuffed it into her inventory, pulling out a stack of netherrack to leave behind. Ignoring the pit of emptiness that slowly festered when she’d noticed the loss, she equipped her elytra and flew home. Checking her coords every few seconds, she dropped down when she reached the entrance to her box. She held her breath and dropped through, blocking up the hole. Forwards and down, and forwards and up – and she was back in her box. Back in isolation. Hunching over her ender chest, she huffed out a breath, ignoring tears already tracking down her face as she held her mask.
“Stupid, fucking.. Prick.” She whispered, anger and fear and grief clashing together in an hot mess inside her.
.
.
.
She’d failed Clownpierce, hadn’t she?