Chapter Text
Branzy was freshly back in the new season.
Everyone had went on their merry way, going here and there to start making teams and get barebone stuff.
He decided to go alone for the debut, a fresh start, and figure out which way to go as the story writes itself.
But being alone wasn't the best plan, players weren't the only worry ! And lack of luck can be cruel.
Right after raiding a village, Branzy got caught by a zombie horde. Seeing that much at once wasn't a common occurrence.
And quickly, a wrong turn here and another here, he got cornered by them and his wooden tools couldn't do miracles.
What a way to lose your first heart…
The respawn took longer than it should've.
It usually feels like waking up from a very realistic dream.
He didn't set his respawn at any bed in the village, thus why he was laying on the grass at the Spawn.
People were still away, but they would probably come back soon. That was dangerous, he lost enough time like that.
His bones felt like gravel, like waking up from oversleeping, but he pulled himself up and wandered into a nearby dark oak forest.
It was still the night, but he got killed when the moon was just rising and now it was about to vanish behind the horizon.
Unable to remember where the village was, Branzy gave up on his stuff, being mostly wood and sticks anyways. So he simply started mining the trees to replace it.
He couldn't shake off the light headed feeling that followed him since his respawn. It was probably normal, maybe part of the feeling of losing a heart? He didn't play on the server for a while, it could be.
Throughout the days, the light headed feeling persisted, and his body felt harder to move. Which was usually shrugged off as simply lack of habit. But this made the survival harder, mobs weren't merciful to his current state and some aggressive teams that already had decent gears would profit of the occasion to steal a few hearts.
And with that, Branzy’s heart count quickly dropped. He was honestly ashamed of it, and starting to panic. It was his first season back and he was already about to be banned ?? That really sucks…! Not even mentioning that sunlight made him burn, like a mob ! That was really weird. And impractical. But he worked around it eventually. A helmet quickly fixed it.
And soon enough, the number dropped to … -1 ?
Two hearts dropped off his final life for some reasons, skipping the 0, and displayed a negative number.
The wounds from that death also barely healed, while usually respawning makes you look good as new.
That was odd.
But Branzy wasn’t stupid.
A negative number was a good sign.
Because : if he loses more hearts, it would increase the number, and thus never touch 0.
Meaning he could never get banned, making him functionally immortal.
He would've cheered and celebrated, but with each heart substracted, his body felt heavier and his joints felt rusty.
Not even mentioning the gaping wound from that “final” kill. He would need to take care of that if it’s not gonna leave by itself.
People in the chat were surprised to not see the leaving message, some suggested Branzy somehow crafted himself hearts while still early game, or that people thinking that was his 20th life just mis counted.
Maybe even a few ones were thinking he cheated.
Well, maybe that was an exploit? Or a new add-on. If it was the first option, wouldn't an admin check on him already?
That aside, it made him get more attention than he wished, so he tried to hide away to be able to work on his projects peacefully. Maybe even planning a few traps to get back at whoever tried to ban him, too …
Surprisingly, he was alone for most of that, rarely crossing the path of his usual friends and potential allies. Or when he did see them, they were busy. Like Clownpierce, who he would see in the middle of a fight usually, stepping away to avoid lost arrows and then being unable to find him again.
The wound didn't get better, either, was it infected? It really wasn't supposed to do that… and healing potions burned his throat like if he was drinking liquid pepper. Really inconvenient.
He had to stitch it closed eventually, which took a lot of self control and relying on his self perception more than sight, too. But the pain was dull.
Now that he thinks about it, since he died to that zombie horde, pain felt softened, being more and more distant with each lost life.
And it clicked.
Sensitivity to sunlight, inability to truly die, not healing anymore, even the potions losing effects.
Was he…?
No. It’s not possible. Unless that was a secret addon to the season to add spice, maybe. Wouldn't other people notice that? Wait, he was the first to die this season, of course he’s the first to notice. Oh god.
It can’t be true. He doesn't wanna lose himself to be some braindead human flesh eater. That sounded AWFUL. Could he heal himself?? Would he survive?? If he got his hearts back up they would hit 0 and get him banned. But what if he healed 2 at once like he lost them?? Is it even possible?? Well if he lost 2 he can probably gain 2 right? Oh god what is going on.
Branzy was curled up in a corner of the half done base, which was simply a hole dug in the dirt with a few chests around and a bed, pulling on his own hair and tail curled around his legs.
“Knock knock”
…
What
Who was here?
He slowly stood up, the voice was familiar but his head was spinning too much to put a name on it.
“I know you’re here, Branzycraft, I see your nametag~”
The stranger almost purred in his words, which was honestly not reassuring. Who would be out there looking for him? ... Well a lot of people after what happened recently.
Branzy simply gulped and reached the trapdoor leaving access to the outside.
He almost opened it without a helmet on, but in case the sun was up, he grabbed on. Avoiding the humiliation of burning in front of the familiar sounding fellow.
Above the trapdoor was a jester, a very deadly jester, none other than Clownpierce !
They weren't able to have a proper conversation this season, which honestly made Branzy a little sad. The presence of the assassin was usually welcome, even though he could also be here to kill him because someone paid him enough. Who knows.
“So this is where you've been! Almost as if you were hiding from me.”
“C-Clown ! I wasn't expecting you here … What… what brings you here?”
With a nervous smile, he didn't move from the entrance, if Clown was here for his job he’d rather not get chased in a cramped space.
“Just visiting an old pal! It's been lonely around the server without you, do you really think I'd kill you?”
“Well. Yes. That's kinda… Your whole thing. I guess? I mean. I missed playing with you too. But I probably have a target on my head and all.”
“Well that's why I came here! I can't let you get away this early into the season. There's so much fun to be had, many hearts to take... We can't let you get banned when the fun's barely begun, can we?”
“...Right, that makes sense, I guess. …G-Get in ! Don't stay outside like that, be my guest- Well, it’s pretty small for now, but, huh, it’s better than nothing?”
He climbed down the ladder to let the jester pass through, hand rubbing his own neck due to nervousness and a hint of embarrassment.
He couldn't bring himself to fully trust Clown, but it wasn’t new, his trains of thoughts always suggesting the worst scenarios… A while ago he made peace with it, still fearing that the assassin would take his head, but making the idea… nice.
Was it a flavor of masochism? Maybe. But being killed by Clown sounded nice. Nicer than from anyone else.
But that wasn't his only worry. The situation had totally took him off the previous worries before they bit him back. If he is now an undead, would he urge to eat brains? Why is he still conscious? Will he lose control over time? Is Clown in danger? Well, probably now, Branzy isn't a threat, especially to him. But being this close to a zombie is not the safest. And he wasn't close to other living players without needing to run lately. Branzy couldn't tell if it was the usual intrusive thoughts or if he actually wanted to take a bite. The usual disgust wasn't here, that was the worrying part. It was a real thought. He’s still conscious enough to not do it. He has self control. Or does he?
And while going on this inner tangent, he started biting his own fingers without noticing, until:
“What are you doing there Branzy?”
Clown’s voice snapped him back. His own hand is in his mouth. His hand was probably dirty from the dirt around, ew.
Branzy spat out his fingers and rubbed off the possible dirt off his tongue with the side of his hand.
“Ew- Crap- Huh. Sorry. I don’t know what got to me.”
Clown simply tilted his head. Probably finding the whole scene curious. Branzy had odd behaviours sometimes that wasn't the most surprising part.
The dragon couldn't even bear to look him in the eyes… eye holes? Whatever served as eyes on Clown’s mask.
“Sooo… Did you want to talk to me about anything, or, huh…”
“If you're not too busy…” Clown looked around the base. “Which I assume you’re not. Would you mind joining my team this season? Your craftsmanship was always a precious aid.” He said, with a grin his his voice.
“Oh! Well! I’m veeeery busy, sadly. My team wouldn't like me working with you I think. You know how people are, ahah!”
“You’re a bad liar, Branzycraft.”
The albino gulped. He did not want to get too close to someone he never stopped to care about while in a situation where he could be a danger to others… But again, he probably wasn't that much of a threat in the first place.
“I, huh … Yeah fair enough. I just- I don't know. I’ve kinda been hiding from people so far? Working in solo and all…”
“You know I wouldn't let people hurt you if you’re part of my team, right? Like in the old days.”
“R-right !! Yeah! …Yeah.”
That reminded him of the castle in the End… Somewhat sweet, but oh so scary. Branzy never knew what to think of that. Being kidnapped is never a great feeling to be honest.
“So? Do I need to save your life so you owe me a lifetime of servitude in this season too?”
“No no no that won't be necessary ! I didn't have plans anyways. It gives me something to do- ahah.”
Clownpierce then clapped his hands and headed to the exit.
“Then let’s go~”
“Hu-Huh wh- now?”
“When else?”
“A-Aaalright then! Okay. Cool. We’re going wherever your base is right now. Okay. That's- That's cool.”
And as the jester climbed back up in the sunlight, the dragon followed, less enthusiastic to go in the light. Thanks god he never took off the helmet.
And hopefully the other wouldn't notice his slower pace.
//
“Who did this to you.”
They were sitting in silence for a while, the plans of the day being unclear and the server being awfully calm, too calm.
“Huh- Did what?-”
“That.”
Clown pointed the top of his own head to illustrate. He meant Branzy’s horns.
The albino put his hands up to check on them, noticing one was broken.
“Oh- oh dear, I didn't notice that one… err…”
Clownpierce tilted his head.
“How could you not notice? That’d probably hurt.”
Branzy gulped, he knew the why’s and how’s, but did not really want to share them. But lying was off the table, so he opted for a truth that was missing details.
“Must’ve… Must’ve been one of my bad respawn.. You know, when not everything fix itself?”
He gave a nervous smirk, hoping it was indeed a common experience, and not a symptom of his newfound condition.
Clown didn't give a reply, simply tilting his head on the other side. It was impossible to read what he could be thinking, but he was definitely observing the albino in detail.
“...And no I don't remember who did that.”
Branzy’s voice was lower, almost ashamed.
The jester simply hummed, was it disappointment? Who knows.
But he kept observing him. He was intrigued.
Bad respawns weren't really a thing. But Branzy didn't seem to lie. Which was interesting.
The dragon was just looking around nervously, off mindedly biting at his own hand. Maybe a little too hard, as he stopped due to the taste of blood slowly coming up in his mouth. He then quickly checked it, and hid the bright red bite mark already bruising under his other hand on his lap. Hoping Clown didn't pick up on it.
//
(GORE DESCS AHEAD)
summary in notes
Under the deadliest assassin’s protection as before, it was surprisingly easier to not die every two day. Hiding underground to fix redstone machinery for various purposes, farms, mining, traps, and whatnot, was way safer than wandering aboveground.
And to his relief, he was usually alone down there, even tho he knew a lot of people were nearby, the base being closer to the Spawn than his tiny hideout where Clown picked him up.
A lot of people…
It was a feeling he couldn’t shake off.
It was hard to describe.
It isn't a fear of sociability like you’d expect. But something in him pointing to the presence of living humans.
As much as not dying as often was slowing down his symptoms, it wasn't stopping them.
Branzy even adopted poor quality chew toys to handle situations where he stood close to his teammates. Usually leftovers of tools like sticks or chunks of metal. They interrogated him a few times but he never gave real replies, moreso “Oh don't worry about it, it help me focus” or other excuses.
The wound he needed to stitch up after his final living heart was really not looking good. The flesh around it looked dead. Borderline rotting. Probably fully rotting actually. But good hygiene and perfume kept it in check.
But it wasn't the only area that looked bad. As other chunks of skin had the same pale color in between grey and green, staining here and there. Normal wounds reacted badly, not just ones causing to lose a heart. Bruises weren’t healing anymore. Thanks god he wore glows most of the time because the bite mark on his hand looked AWFUL. It’d probably be worst if he didn't wash his hands each time they felt slightly dirty, but rubbing them several times a day definitely took off some chunk of skin, and maybe flesh, around the wound itself.
Also, his thoughts were more foggy. He was fighting to keep them clear, like shacking a lamp so it stays lit while the fog only thickens.
Focusing on the redstone machinery was a challenge, causing several accidents that caught him in some pistons or being hurt by his own traps backfiring. When asked about it, he blamed tiredness.
But some things weren’t foggy.
The smell of blood. The sound of living hearts pumping. Which made him realize his own was missing.
Hints of living flesh near.
Fighting these signals through the fog was tiring.
But he kept his control the best he could, biting on inanimate, or already dead things only.
But something in the back of his head was begging for something still squirming, still warm.
Thankfully, fighting off unwanted thoughts wasn't a new thing to him. Which most definitely helps him keeping his sanity.
But one day, it won. A small victory, but still one, and Branzy is terrified of this victory.
“I'm so sorry for what I'm about to do, little clucker..”
He whispered, in a gravely voice due to a hoarse throat that wouldn't leave
One of the chickens he had picked up for his signature contraptions, held in his hands like some hamburger. The bird was looking at the dragon with confusion before letting out a loud cluck as teeth dug through the feathers and flesh.
The need for living meat had become too strong, but an animal felt less morally reprehensible than a human.
His ears were ringing, he couldn't focus on anything else but the warm feeling in his mouth. The cracks of the flesh tearing. The bones adding more resistance here and there. The screeches that soon stopped when the hen couldn't keep up longer.
He could barely make out the feeling of feathers tingling inside his cheeks and his throat. Everything else was blurry. Only the blood. The heat of the flesh. The squirms under the first bites. He could only feel that.
Once the bird was unrecognisable, Branzy looked down at his hands after letting the carcass fall on the ground, bright red and soaked in the animal’s blood. And a wet feeling around his face let him guess his mouth was also covered in the same liquid.
The fog was a little clearer. The hunger was silent for now.
He felt miserable. Guilty. Taking the life of one of his favourite birds just… like that.
He needed to get it cleaned up before anyone found him like that.
The blood felt burning against his skin, even now that it cools down against the air.
He never realized how cold he was.
Nor that someone else was here.
Oh no.
(END OF GORE SCENE)
As he turned around, something sharp hit his face. Knocking him out.