Work Text:
“I spent a good week working on the Chamber of Sea Critters, Scar,” Grian said, keeping his tone deceptively neutral.
Scar hung his head in shame as he was led to the Chamber, sheepishly stepping where Grian gestured him to go, into a missing section of the wall.
“Now I’m gonna put this fish in this barrel,” Grian said, sliding one of the room’s many barrels open and dropping in a dead cod.
The wooden floor fell out from underneath him suddenly, and Scar let out a weak, apologetic laugh as he plummeted, probably sounding a bit too miserable for his own good. His feet hit solid ground again not long after.
“Woah!” he exclaimed, taking in the stone bricks making up the walls, occasionally cracked into cobble and covered in moss. He was standing on a tuff bridge above a pit full of stalagmites, jutting upwards toward him like a sea creature ready to eat him for his mending book related wrongdoings. Stalactites hanging from the ceiling completed the illusion, and Scar suddenly felt a little nauseous and nervous.
Grian strolled up from behind him. “Right. This, this is the Chamber of Sea Critters.”
A portion of the wall retracted, and Scar let a smile touch his face at the thought of Grian putting the redstone contraption together to allow for that.
“This is where I’ve been going,” Grian stated, almost sounding conversational, as he ushered Scar into the next corridor, which was lined with intricate carvings of fish on the walls, and another pit below.
Grian kept behind him as the two continued to walk forward, and into what he assumed was the final section of the chamber.
“There’s a painting, and I’ve had to change it, because—”
Scar burst into laughter, both guilty and genuine laughter, as he saw it, hanging gloriously against the tuff bricks of the back wall. Grian, kitted out in his fishing gear, beard full, stood atop his bamboo raft, holding the fishing rod that he hadn’t been seen without for the past several weeks. And behind him was Scar himself, on top of a similar raft, triumphantly hauling a mending book into the air with his own fishing rod. The sun breaking through the clouds in the background made it clear how hasty of a change this had been to the painting, as Scar assumed that the mending book was supposed to be centered in front of the sun, or at least closer to it than it now was.
“I had to CHANGE THE PAINTING,” Grian continued, shouting to be heard over Scar’s pathetic laugh-sobs.
The avian gestured over to the side wall. “This is the original painting of me achieving the mending book. I was ready to get the mending book, and that’s where I was when you guys turned up, and you stole it.”
Scar wished he could stop laughing, he knew how inappropriate of a response it was given the circumstances, but he simply couldn’t force himself to stop.
“I brought you here,” Grian said, turning to face Scar, “because I wanted you to understand the PAIN—”
Scar’s heart skipped a beat as his friend’s fist made contact with his stomach, knocking him backwards and off of the tuff platform.
“Oh, I knew it! I knew it, I knew it!”
Grian’s face lit up with glee as he watched Scar plunge into the water below. “You’re stuck in the Chamber of Sea Critters forever, goodbye!”
And Scar watched him exit the room from underneath the surface of the water, fighting to pull himself back up.
“Oh, we’re in trouble now,” Scar gasped as he broke the surface, partially from the cold, partially out of panic, frantically looking around for a way out. The walls were all annoyingly smooth, the grooves in between the tuff bricks filled with just enough mortar to avoid providing any handholds for him.
He swam gracefully over to the other side of the frigid pool. Equally as unhelpful in getting up.
Scar checked his pockets. The mending book shimmered uselessly, and his tools were really hard to hold up while treading water. He could already feel the oncoming ache in his legs from the constant eggbeater motion.
So he had a choice. He didn’t seem to have any materials on him for whatever reason, so he could either break through Grian’s hard work and risk making him even more mad if he found out, or Scar could wait it out and hope his friend would come back for him.
The second option seemed to be the more logical solution given the circumstances, but then again… Grian had said forever…
Scar shuffled through his tools, looking for his pickaxe.
Shovel, sword, bow, axe…
What?
He checked again.
Carrots.
Arrows.
Rockets.
Where was his pickaxe?
A glint in the corner of his eye caught his attention, and Scar whipped his head up. His pick must have fallen out as Grian pushed him in, as it was lying on the tuff platform above.
“Oh no. Oh no ho ho!”
It was so high up that Scar didn’t even consider retrieving it to be a possibility.
He looked around again helplessly, beginning to wonder if he really would have to wait for someone to find him. If that was the case, as unfortunate as it was, he would probably have to take off what little armor he had on in order to stay afloat.
So he took off the armor, moving from muscle memory of a thousand times of taking it off in the past. And so he only noticed as it was all sinking towards the endless abyss below him that he’d also abandoned his elytra.
“Oh, crap, oh jeez!”
Scar inhaled violently, trying to get as much air as he could before diving down in an attempt to retrieve the artificial wings. It took more effort than it should have, and after only a minute his lungs and limbs were burning, and the light had almost entirely faded. He ultimately decided to give up on the retrieval, kicking as fast as he could to get back above water.
He emerged from the water, gasping in air for the second time that day. “My ELYTRA! Oh, I really will be here forever, oh no ho ho ho!”
Scar whined in despair.
***
Grian left the game.
Scar jolted at the faint notification ping from his comm, flailing in the water as he tried to switch from floating on his back to treading water again. He brought the comm up to his face as soon as he was stable, and read the short sentence.
“So I could have just contacted someone? Gosh dang it, man!”
He fumbled around, trying to type with his shivering fingers.
<GoodTimeWithScar> hey can anyone hlep me get out fo f Grian s thing
Scar laid back down, letting his eyes close as he floated, content for the moment to wait for any response. It turned out that wait wouldn’t be a long wait, as not even a minute later he heard yet another ping.
<Mumbo> What thing?
Scar held the comm above his head as he typed, opting to save his energy by avoiding treading water anymore.
<GoodTimeWithScar> his chabmer
<GoodTimeWithScar> chamber
<Mumbo> Ah. Right
<Mumbo> Where is that?
<GoodTimeWithScar> he put fish in a barrel
<GoodTimeWithScar> in fishing storage
<Mumbo> I’ll come over and see if I can find it
<GoodTimeWithScar> is there anyoen else on ata the moment
<Mumbo> No? Why
<GoodTimeWithScar> justt wondering
Scar silently counted his lucky stars that Mumbo had still been online. Otherwise, he very well might have had to wait for much longer.
***
Mumbo flew over Grian’s glorious fields of wheat, thoroughly confused about Scar’s predicament. Apparently there was more to Grian’s base than he had thought, and he tried not to be offended by the fact that he didn’t know about it until Scar knew about it. Not fussed, not fussed at all…
He clumsily landed at the fishing dock, yelping as he stumbled along the soaked wood. Grian must have been fishing right before leaving the server, and it was a good thing he left, too. Mumbo was glad his friend wasn’t there to see his fumble. He brushed himself off, his suit not too damaged, thankfully.
“Alright, Scar said the fishing storage…?”
Mumbo looked around, opening a few barrels here and there, but not really certain about where he was meant to be going. Scar had said to put a fish in a barrel, but which one, exactly?
<Mumbo> Which barrel did he put the fish in again?
Mumbo did a second search, checking every barrel for any indication of a redstone contraption hidden beneath. There was, of course, none. He wouldn’t have expected Grian to be quite that sloppy when it came to his work, especially since he seemed to want this chamber thing to be kept secret. Not fussed…
“Oh, gosh Scar, you couldn’t have given me any better instructions?”
He took a single cooked cod from one of the barrels, dropping it back in immediately. He paused, looking around and waiting to hear a piston being retracted, or some indication of redstone working. When he was certain nothing had happened, he picked the same cod out again and tried a different barrel. Nothing.
After trying all the barrels he could see, and finding no success, Mumbo began to wonder if Scar was just having a laugh. There was no chamber, surely? Right, Scar was probably working on his zoo, or maybe the train.
<Mumbo> Scar, which barrel?
<Mumbo> Scar?
<Mumbo> Hello?
Scar did not reply.
Mumbo stood there, feeling awkward and helpless. If this was a prank, Scar had indeed gotten him good, but something about his previous messages, now that he was rereading them, seemed off. Scar didn’t usually struggle this much with his typing, maybe he would more than most people, but… certainly not to this extent.
Mumbo sighed, looking up at the crisp clear sky and the clouds above, unsure of what to do. He was considering just giving up on the search when a ping from his wrist startled him.
<GoodTimeWithScar> jusdt ddigdown
“Dig down?!” Mumbo asked incredulously. “Where am I supposed to dig down?! Scar!”
The mustached man groaned, taking out his shovel and pickaxe and preparing to just guess around at the location. How deep was it, even? He could be digging for ages!
Regardless, Mumbo started shoveling up Grian’s base, absolutely ruining his suit with dirt and dust.
“Oh, you better not be joking, Scar,” he mumbled sadly, contemplating the fact that he had neglected to even think of bringing some work clothes. This was his best suit! Not even a work suit, this one was silky smooth, and brand new, too!
He switched over to using his pick once he got deep enough to hit stone, and settled into the rhythm of digging, making sure to leave plenty of space so that he wouldn’t fall to his death if he did find the chamber.
The sound of tuff brought him out of his thoughts, not even long after he had begun digging. The rock was softer and airier than stone, with a far different texture, so Mumbo immediately knew that he’d luckily picked the right spot to dig.
He pulled out a torch to better see the tuff, which, as he suspected from the sound, wasn’t just the raw rock, but tuff bricks. He had definitely found something.
Mumbo broke off one of the bricks, jumping back when it fell into the opening below, letting in a faint light. He peered into the brick-sized hole just in time to see the tuff hit the water below him, and sink until no longer visible.
He hurriedly cleared out the rest of the bricks beneath him, giving him enough room to glide down into the chamber below. There was an odd tuff bridge, above seemingly endless waters. The walls had Grian’s typical ornate decorations, seemingly of fish.
“Oh, gosh,” Mumbo muttered as he landed, elytra turning back into its usual cloak form. The corridor was cold, likely from the water and the depth, and it seemed to be a little drafty as well. It likely was not meant to be a place frequently visited.
He started walking in what he assumed was the right direction, passing several more fish engravings as he went. His footsteps seemed painfully loud in the echoey chamber, and Mumbo started to wonder if this actually was a trap.
He approached the end of the bridge, stepping into a small room where the tuff platform cut off abruptly. There was a comical painting on the wall depicting Scar stealing Grian’s mending book, which made Mumbo chuckle. But at the same time, the room gave him a dreadful feeling. Surely this was a trap. Maybe if he tried to leave the entryway would shut on him, trapping him here? The walls could retract, and arrows could shoot out, or maybe poison, or mobs, or…
Mumbo looked down at the floor, a diamond pickaxe lying at his feet. At the same time, he heard a faint ripple below him, and he peered over the edge of the bridge into the water below.
And there was Scar, floating, face up thankfully, in the still waters.
“Scar!” He exclaimed, pulling out some stone and building down to him.
He knelt down above Scar, grabbing his face worriedly. The man’s skin was cold to the touch, and it barely passed as dry, which was unsurprising, given the water surrounding him.
“Scar? Hello?”
Mumbo moved his hand down to Scar’s wrist, checking for a pulse with shaking fingers. To his immediate relief, his pulse was there, and relatively strong, considering the situation.
He hesitated, pulling back from the unconscious man. Mumbo took a deep breath, forcing his hands to stop shaking by fidgeting with them.
“Scar!” he yelled, with as much force as he could muster. The sound reverberated around the chamber, making him wince with its intensity.
Scar startled, flailing around in the water for a moment, and before Mumbo could do anything, he was submerged.
“No, Scar!”
Mumbo plunged into the water, immediately tensing at the cold shock delivered to his system. Not much light made it into the water, but he was able to make out Scar, struggling below him.
Despite not being confident in his swimming, Mumbo dove deeper, his heart sinking when he noticed the water flowing freely into Scar’s nose and mouth. As he kicked his way further down, ignoring the burning sensation building in his lungs, Mumbo met eyes with Scar, both hermits utterly horrified. Running on pure adrenaline now, he managed to grab the weakened hermit’s waist.
His agility wasn’t superb, and the depth and darkness of the water was concerning, but Mumbo was somewhat reassured by the enchantments on his helmet that would stop him from drowning. Then again, Scar had no such helmet, but… at least the server had unlimited respawns?
Mumbo reoriented himself, making sure his grip on Scar was firm before forcefully kicking his way back to the surface.
His helmet would stop him from drowning, but his lungs still burned with every passing second, as if his brain was convinced he didn’t have enough oxygen, when he really wouldn’t start drowning for quite some time. The same could not be said for Scar.
The light grew stronger, glistening in the water above him and making him feel oh so small… so insignificant.
And then he broke the surface, gasping desperately despite having no real need for air.
“Scar, are you alright, mate?”
Scar spluttered weakly, water pouring from his mouth and nose. Mumbo’s heart lurched as he watched the tired man cough quietly, not clearing much air from his lungs at all. His fingers were extremely wrinkled from all the time he’d spent in the water, and Mumbo might have been imagining it, but he thought there was a faint purple-blue tinge to them.
Mumbo placed a few more stone blocks so he could climb out of the water, hoisting Scar onto the small platform he created before pulling himself up afterwards.
His friend couldn’t find the strength to do much other than gasp and cough like a dying fish, simply lying there defeated on the makeshift stone platform.
Mumbo muttered worriedly, reaching down to help Scar sit up. He swayed slightly, eyes little more than slits in his utter exhaustion.
“Oh gosh.”
Mumbo pulled Scar into his arms, doing his best to place a few more stone bricks for him to walk back onto the tuff bridge. He ran as fast as he could while soaking wet and holding an entire person in his arms, realizing when he reached the other end of the chamber that he had no idea how to get out.
“Um, Scar? How did you get into this place?”
He stopped and looked down at his friend, who was clearly no longer conscious at this point.
“Great, um…”
He could just use the hole he’d dug to get down here in the first place in order to get out, right? Yeah, that would probably work.
Mumbo centered himself underneath the one by two hole, where the faintest glimmers of sunlight could hit his face. With a sigh, he placed down the first stone block, struggling to jump on top of it with Scar still in his arms. Despite how often the hermit died, he was actually quite the capable man, with plenty of stature and muscle. Which was unfortunate for Mumbo, as he himself had the height, but not quite the muscle, to move around while carrying him.
His arms were burning by the time he had pillared up ten blocks, giving him more of an arm workout than he’d had building his entire base so far.
Just think of it like it’s rock climbing, he thought. Incredibly boring rock climbing, with no view, and it’s actually just pillaring up stone with your arms full!
About halfway up, Mumbo had to take a break, setting the unconscious hermit next to him, which was a bit of an awkward squeeze for a one block space. He groaned as he stretched his arms up, before letting them hang limp at his side for a minute.
He didn’t know how Tango did it, just hanging out in a hole for a whole season, hardly ever seeing the sun. Just this ordeal had him longing for a nice afk session at an industrial district. Just him, the sky, and effortless productivity.
He took a minute to whine about having to keep going before resuming the task at hand. With some difficulty, Mumbo lifted Scar up again and kept going, hoisting them both over stone block after stone block. One more break and a lot of pillaring later, he and Scar tumbled onto the ground above, letting him take a breath of fresh, fish-free air again.
“Oh, Scar, oh gosh. I don’t really know what to do in this situation.”
He knelt down next to the unconscious hermit, checking his pulse and breathing again, both of which there, but neither of them particularly strong.
Mumbo looked down at his comm, confirming that he and Scar were the only ones on the server at the moment. “Why is it that whenever something goes wrong, that nobody else is here?”
One glance at Grian’s base was enough to convince him that Scar would be better off anywhere else. There was no way he was going to carry the hermit up to the ridiculously high buildings. He wasn’t even sure if there was a bed in any of them.
With a sigh, he took out an ender chest from his inventory, shuffling through the magical storage bin until he found some obsidian. If they were both cold and wet, then the Nether would get them where they needed and dry them off.
He placed just enough for a portal frame, and struck at the dark, brittle block with his flint and steel. Purple smoke sprung up from the spark, catching the edges of the frame and falling into a calm and repetitive swirling motion.
Hoisting Scar into his arms again, Mumbo stepped through the portal, watching as the world warped and faded from view, leaving only Scar and the purple abyss.
Tinges of red started spilling into his vision, and the Nether was in front of him. Unfortunately, it was also Grian’s mail portal that it had linked to, leaving him under the nether roof and stuck in the contraption.
Whatever, it was fine.
As he made his way out of the mail system’s innards, and towards the open Nether air, he enjoyed the warm, dry feeling that returned to his clothes. Scar’s zookeeper outfit was warming up similarly.
Oh no, was he going to have to pillar to the nether roof?
Mumbo stood there for a minute, arms growing even more fatigued the longer he held Scar. Even if he did pillar to the nether roof, how was he going to get himself AND Scar through the bedrock?
With an exaggerated groan, Mumbo clambered back into the mail system, bumbling around looking for Grian’s mail portal.
When he and Scar tumbled back into the overworld, Mumbo had decided he’d had enough. He’d just make a little hut for Scar to be safe in for… however long he was sleeping for, and it would be fine! No more pillaring up, no more carrying a man as tall as him and arguably buffer than him.
He rummaged around in the ender chest he’d stuck down, pulling out enough orange wool for a bed, hurriedly slapping one together and setting his friend down on it, making sure the blanket would cover him enough for his comfort.
What would be the most cozy environment to wake up to? Mumbo pulled out some oak, but he was lacking on that, apparently. He had a lot of deepslate… or maybe some tuff bricks? No, probably not tuff, that felt a little too… well, reminiscent of the weird chamber he’d just rescued Scar from in the first place.
He decided to build a simple room from mangrove planks, putting in a few glass panes and a double door for good measure.
“Sleep well, Scar,” he whispered, shutting the doors behind him and strolling over to clean up the ender chest and portal.
And then there wasn’t much for Mumbo to do but wait.
***
As activity on the server increased, Mumbo let everyone know what had happened with Scar. Some of the hermits had come to visit him, and False even came over and gave him some potions and a little check up. They eventually had Mumbo leave to get some rest once they found out how long he’d been on the server, assuring him that Scar would be tended to.
When he finally woke up completely after about nine hours, Scar was a little fatigued, but overall still his same, cheery self.
***
Grian joined the server to a barrage of messages, most of them from Bdubs.
Bdoubleo100 whispers to you: Hey!
Bdoubleo100 whispers to you: We need to talk
ImpulseSV whispers to you: Hey man, Xisuma wants to see you
Bdoubleo100 whispers to you: What did you do to Scar?
Bdoubleo100 whispers to you: I want answers
Bdoubleo100 whispers to you: Grian!
Bdoubleo100 whispers to you: >:(
Grian put his fishing gear away as he worked on typing responses to the messages.
You whisper to ImpulseSV: where?
You whisper to Bdoubleo100: I took him to my secret fishing chamber and showed him my painting
ImpulseSV whispers to you: There’s this makeshift mangrove box near your wheat fields
Grian looked around, spotting the box immediately, almost wondering how he hadn’t noticed it earlier, until he remembered he’d been off the server for at least a day and a half. He didn’t even need to waste a rocket getting to it; it was that close.
Bdoubleo100 whispers to you: I know that already, WHY DID YOU HIT HIM IN?!
You whisper to Bdoubleo100: Well why did you ask me what I did if you already knew?
You whisper to Bdoubleo100: and it was just a playful hit, honestly
Grian knocked on the spruce doors, an odd choice, given that the planks were mangrove. Then again, Impulse had called it makeshift, sooo…
Impulse opened the door, letting him in.
Scar, Xisuma, and Skizz were all sitting on a pair of orange beds, Scar in between the two. Impulse moved over to take Xisuma’s spot as the admin got up.
“Hey Grian!” Scar called out, breaking the quiet immediately.
“Uh, hi. What’s going on?”
Xisuma opened his mouth to answer, but Scar got there faster.
“Mumbo had to rescue me from your chamber thingy and now everyone’s pretty unhappy about it.”
Grian blinked a few times, confused. “What?”
Scar shrugged.
“He lost his elytra and pickaxe, and apparently didn’t have any blocks on him, so he had to message Mumbo to come get him.”
“O… kay?”
His comm pinged again, and he looked down to another angry message from Bdubs.
“Who’s that from?” Scar asked, looking down at his own comm and not seeing a serverwide message.
“Bdubs,” Grian replied, moving to type out another reply.
Xisuma groaned. “I told him to take a break an hour ago.”
The admin excused himself to go take care of the enraged Bdubs, quietly slipping out of the door.
“So, uh, what’s with the box?” Grian asked.
“Scar was out for almost ten hours after Mumbo rescued him, more before he even got there.”
“Wait, what?”
Scar shrugged again. “That water was cold! I got a little tired of waiting, that’s all!”
Grian shook his head, concerned. “Ten hours is not a little!”
Skizz rubbed Scar’s back. “We think Sir Scar got a little bit of hypothermia from the cold exposure, especially after so long.”
Seeing Grian’s facial expression change, Scar cut in to reassure him. “Ohhh, it’s fine! A little bit of cold doesn’t hurt!”
“Yes it does!” Impulse and Skizz yelled in unison.
“I’m fine! Mumbo got me out before anything bad could happen.”
Grian walked over to the beds, making himself comfortable between Scar and Skizz. “I’m sorry, Scar, I shouldn’t have—”
“Oh, don’t worry, Grian. I’m not mad or anything.”
“Still—”
The door opened again, and Grian glanced down at his comm to see a “Bdoubleo100 left the game” message from a few minutes ago as Xisuma walked in.
“Sorry about that,” he said, placing a random block down and sitting on top of it. “Took him a bit to calm down.”
Scar laughed. “That’s Bdubs, alright!”
Xisuma shook his head with a smile. “Sure is. But Grian,”
Grian tensed up a little looking at the admin worriedly.
The admin rolled his eyes, letting his smile grow bigger. “Next time you shove Scar into a cold, underground death trap, at least make sure he has what he needs to get out before you leave.”
The dads shared a laugh, Scar nudging him in the side playfully.
“Oh, alright, fine,” Grian responded, a relieved smile on his face.