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(Rough Timeline: Spoke and Mapicc’s last fight from ‘1000 Players Simulate HUNGER GAMES in Hardcore Minecraft’)
Spoke was honestly losing his mind a little.
Well, he’d been losing his mind weeks, maybe months or even years ago. But in the last couple days of this ‘hunger games,’ his mental state has been really bad. He’d been holding on purely because of persistence, stubbornness, and spite. And also because he at least got to be with Mapicc for most of it.
So, seeing Mapicc again after he was taken away for the.. However many times, Spoke was quite happy. But he was also suspicious. Because the demonic border collie was just standing in a stadium looking structure, alone, and seemingly untouched. And while Spoke knew that it was probably a bad idea, he still went over.
The entire walk he was just mumbling to himself plans, as well as privately thinking of what kind of trap this may be. JamatoP could come out somewhere and then threaten or kill Mapicc, or spin more lies. Or a NULL officer could come out of nowhere and Mapicc would be taken away again. Or Spoke would be taken away.
And sure, Spoke still had the mace that he shouldn’t have, but he would need to get to a high place to use it. And without wind charges that was kind of tricky. Nevermind that, though- he had to talk to Mapicc. And hope that Jamato hadn’t done anything and wasn’t going to do anything.
“Mapicc?” The voidling called. He sounded less hesitant than he thought he would have. “Mapicc?”
“What’s up, Spoke,” Mapicc said. He sounded less excited as he normally would when saying those words.
Still, Spoke approached until he was a few blocks away. He didn’t want to scare Mapicc away (as if Mapicc would ever be scared of Spoke- Mapicc rarely ever got scared overall). The emptiness of everything felt off-putting. But that didn’t matter, because Mapicc was here. And Spoke always (always?) felt better when Mapicc was around.
“Look- I- I don’t know where Jamato took you, or how or why you’re here,” Spoke started, trying so, so hard to not glitch, “but I’m sure whatever he showed or told you we can work it out.. Alright? He’s- he’s already turned people against us and took away Jumper. It’s just us left-”
“Yeah, well,” Mapicc said, cutting Spoke off, “he offered me everything, Spoke.”
“..What do you mean?” Spoke asked quietly. He saw a nether portal appear higher up, where people would watch whatever was happening in this stadium-like structure. “What do you mean-?” Spoke asked again, louder and more directed toward the person that had just appeared, “Jamato- Jamato!”
“Soon, it's going to be just me left,” Mapicc said, speaking a little over Spoke.
The voidling felt his body waver, and it took every fiber of his being to focus on not phasing out. He couldn’t have a glitch out right now. He couldn’t- he wouldn’t let that happen. If that happened then he was showing weakness in front of Jamato, and he didn’t want to give his former best friend that satisfaction.
“Oh, there is no way I could miss watching this,” Jamato grinned. “Everyone has a price, Spoke. You should know that better than most people.”
“..Y- he didn’t actually- Mapicc?” Spoke said, trying to not whisper or scream, “What could he have- you don’t-” he was stuttering too much, “you don’t believe that he’ll actually give you freedom or let you out of here- y- you don’t think that-?”
Mapicc’s body was still and his head was titled ever so slightly- and Spoke knew that meant he was feeling a little confused or conflicted. “I’m a tiny fly to him, Spoke. I do think he’ll let me go.”
“He’s already taken everyone away from me- there’s no one l3fT-!” Spoke’s voice wavered and glitched toward the end. It was getting way too tricky to not phase.
“I’m sorry, Spoke,” Mapicc said. And Spoke couldn’t tell if he was genuinely sorry or not. “This is how it ends.”
“After 3veryTh!ng?” Spoke choked out, “fr0m the very st@Rt?”
The voidling’s breath caught in his throat as he saw Mapicc pull out a bow, drawing the string with an arrow ready to be shot. Shot at Spoke.
“No waY Th!s i$-” Spoke stuttered.
An arrow flew, and he just barely moved out of the way.
Mapicc was attacking him.
“Mapicc-” Spoke’s voice shook, yet it didn’t glitch when saying his best friend’s name. Was Mapicc still his best friend? When the demonic border collie was attacking him like this? He knew it took a lot for a dog hybrid to attack their friends, considering how loyal they were. Spoke really messed up.
Out of a mere instinct to survive, Spoke placed blocks, held the iron sword he had, tried to parry with it and block with his shield. He didn’t want to hurt Mapicc. He didn’t- he c0ulDn’t-
The voidling just started to panic, honestly. His best friend was attacking him. And his body wasn’t listening to him. It was wavering harshly, phasing and almost making him drop what he was holding. He knew Mapicc could see it. Mapicc knew how bad Spoke’s glitching could get. Mapicc normally helped to ground him if it got too bad.
Because when it got too bad all Spoke felt was pain. And he struggled to see. And he hissed and cried uselessly. And he struggled to think or breathe. And far too many things that messed him up even more and made him just want to let the Void take him.
Sometimes Spoke really hated being a voidling. Especially a voidling that came from the Nether’s void. Because the Nether’s void was freezing, and he was used to that. He was naturally able to withstand such coldness. But the regular Nether burned. Probably more for him than the average person.
..What was he doing-?
He felt a sharp blade cut his arm. Oh yeah. He was fighting Mapicc. No- Mapicc was fighting him. Spoke didn’t want to fight Mapicc.
But Spoke also wanted to live. He’d spent enough time wanting to give up or just stay in jail, he’d spent enough time accidentally clawing at his arms or purposely clawing at the door. His nails in their claw-like form were utterly wrecked by this point- so much so that he just kept them as they regularly were.
He really needed to focus.
But focusing was hard.
It was so hard when Mapicc was hurting him and his body was failing itself and Jamato was watching with satisfaction and his mind was a mess and he couldn’t tell if he was crying or not by this point.
Spoke could feel how his body went from wavering to phasing to outright glitching. He had dropped blocks he was trying to place, he had almost dropped his sword and shield. Well, no- he didn’t drop or almost drop them, they just phased or almost phased through his body. If this kept going he was going to glitch out and there’s a chance he just falls through the floor and suffocates.
He would rather not suffocate- that seemed really painful. But was it as painful as whenever he was glitching?
There were so many times that he wished he hadn’t been born a voidling, so many times that he wished he never did those exploits. Only one of those was his fault. The other was the Void’s fault. But he would never blame the Void- he didn’t want to blame it. It wasn’t the Void’s fault that he was so messed up.
Where the hell was his mind right now?
But then it got too much. Mapicc was hurting him and looking at him with hate in his expression and concern in his eyes and confusion in his body language.
It didn’t matter that Spoke’s sword eventually clattered to the ground, going right through his almost pitch black skin. It didn’t matter that Spoke could feel and see and smell his dark blue blood seeping out of him. There was a lot of blood, honestly. Partly from Mapicc and partly from him glitching.
Mapicc.
His best friend Mapicc.
His brother Mapicc.
His anchor Mapicc.
His Mapicc.
M@p!Cc,
Was Spoke crying?
He didn’t know.
Everything hurt.
At some point he just collapsed to the ground, his legs buckling under him. He kind of gave up at that point. Gave up at defending himself against Mapicc, gave up at trying to survive, gave up at feeling emotions. Voidlings didn’t naturally feel emotions.
But they did feel pain.
And right now all Spoke felt was pain.
Pain so harsh it made his vision blur and bright white tears trail from his eyes and made him shake even more and made him grit his teeth to not scream.
~~~
When Mapicc first attacked Spoke, he wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do or not. He still did it; betrayal and hate still in his mind. But he also noticed how much Spoke was already stuttering and stumbling. He had heard the subtle glitch in his voice as he grew more distressed. He had seen how his bright white eyes showed a glimmer of his iris for once, something that only ever happened when he was physically wavering.
Mapicc regretted attacking Spoke as soon as the voidling’s sword phased right through his skin. It was at that point when he stopped, and stood unsure what to do. Jamato would want him to keep going and hurt Spoke, but Mapicc didn’t follow Jamato’s orders- he just cooperated when necessary.
Right now though, Spoke’s body was unstable. Mapicc could see small pieces glitch away before trying to go back, trying to stay together like attracting magnets slowly being pulled away from each other. It was always disturbing when the voidling glitched out this much.
But this was probably the worst glitch out Mapicc had seen the voidling have. Still, he hesitated with everything. He didn’t attack, though his sword was gripped tightly in his hand. He didn’t move, though his tail twitched and moved closer to his body and his ears started to flatten.
He was stuck between the instinctual loyalty and the found betrayal.
Part of him wanted to help, as he used to do. He wanted to run over and hug Spoke and say that it would be okay, that it would pass, that he was real and alive and shouldn’t give in. He wanted to run his hand through Spoke’s messy black hair and wipe the bright white tears from his eyes.
A different part of him thought this was deserved. Spoke had lied and manipulated him for so long, possibly from the very start of their friendship. He had put people in danger and had done so much harm to the server. It was good that he was finally paying for his mistakes, right?
But Mapicc knew that these glitch outs happened when Spoke was terrified, or confused, or his emotions were running too high despite them not naturally coming to him.
(Was that why Spoke always asked Mapicc how he should feel in certain situations? Because he didn’t know what he was supposed to feel, so he asked that way he could learn? But if Spoke didn’t feel those emotions properly then why were the glitch outs normally because of emotions? The voidling was truly an anomaly to Mapicc, even when they were friends. Were they still friends by this point?)
Void, what the hell should Mapicc do?
~~~
Jamato watched, satisfied. Quite glad that he could see Spoke suffer as he should, for all the harm he’d done. What was better suffering than having your best friend try to kill you?
There was a time where Jamato doubted what he was doing, wondering if he was going too far. But then Spoke would lie again, or manipulate something again, or cause more damage. And eventually Jamato just gave up on the voidling. Gave up on believing he could change, or be a better person. Spoke wasn’t like that.
Jamato watched as Mapicc swung or used a bow, watched as Spoke panickedly placed blocks and spoke with a glitching voice. (..Glitching?) He watched as the once perfect and neat blackstone and deepslate stadium was littered with cobblestone, fire, arrows, and dark blue blood.
But then Jamato really looked at Spoke. Originally wanting to see the terrified look in his eyes, or something of the sort. Instead Jamato finally saw how violently Spoke’s body wavered. It got to a point where if he looked in the right places he could see through Spoke. And not in a way where he was becoming transparent, it was in the way that parts of the voidling’s body just split apart and you could put your hand through.
That brought back memories.
Spoke was young, around thirteen. Jamato had taken him in about a year ago after finding the small voidling merely wandering around. Jamato was nineteen at the time anyways.
Though, what was the hardest part about caring for the young voidling was how unstable his body was. It would waver randomly, at worse times to the point that Spoke would accidentally drop whatever he was holding. Right now was one of those times.
The voidling was upset about something, Jamato wasn’t quite sure what that was yet. But his body was wavering way too much, and the blanket Jamato had given Spoke nearly fell through his hands. His voice, normally bubbly and always a little louder than wanted, was glitching out between quiet sobs.
To be very clear, Jamato does not enjoy physical touch. Right now though, he was hugging Spoke and trying to keep him solid. The small voidling buried his face into Jamato’s shoulder, crying. If it wasn’t this kind of situation, Jamato would have subtly pushed Spoke away.
The glitch outs got worse once Spoke was around sixteen. When he had discovered a few exploits, and Jamato indulged his behavior. Encouraged it to a point, even. But after the first big exploit they did, the next glitch out Spoke had was so much worse.
His body shook violently, and Jamato could hear and see how the voidling’s breath hitched. Spoke let a loud, pained hiss; a sound Jamato had never heard him make before. And soon enough Spoke was sobbing, body glitching to the point that items could phase through him.
And so, just like when Spoke was younger, Jamato tolerated hugging him and keeping him grounded. It took nearly fifteen minutes for it to calm down, and nearly fifteen more minutes for it to fully stop. And in the end the voidling quietly apologized for the contact, but thanked Jamato for helping.
Jamato shook his head, clearing himself of the memories. He didn’t like to think of when Spoke was younger- it made him doubt his actions. Right now though, he watched as Mapicc was hesitating. Jamato couldn’t see Spoke very well, as he was mostly hidden by a few cobblestone blocks.
“Why are you stopping?” Jamato called.
Mapicc looked up, opened his mouth before closing it, and glanced back. Then Jamato ever so slightly flinched as he heard a broken, glitchy shriek. He noticed that Mapicc’s ears flattened against his head, his tail going between his legs. Then the demonic border collie dropped the sword he was holding, and quickly moved toward Spoke.
And Jamato just.. Paused.
He didn’t want to admit it, but he was a little worried. The smallest amount, the size of an ant. But that was still more worry than he should have. He had to squish the ant and get rid of the remains.
And yet he still gave Mapicc and Spoke twenty minutes.
It’s just to make sure the two can fight, he reasons. That’s what he told Mapicc: twenty minutes to make Spoke stable enough for a fight. It was not the worry for Spoke, for the voidling he raised and then was best friends with. Not at all. That ant was dead and buried. And Jamato didn’t want it to come back.
~~~
At this point Spoke didn’t even try to be quiet.
It just- it hvrT $0 MvcH.
His body was desperately trying to stay together despite the unknown force keeping it broken. He could feel how he flickered in and out, little glitchy particles surrounding him. It bUrn3d. More than his first time in the Nether, more than whenever he was lit on fire because of [Fire Aspect] or [Flame] or lava.
He wanted to go home. Bvt
wh3Re wAs home?
He didn’t know.
Or did he know.
He couldn’t between the pain. The hot, blinding and agonizing pain. He couldn’t hear anything properly, or see anything properly. All he tasted was desert and ink, all he smelt was blood and sweat and char, all he felt was pain and his body trying to tear itself apart yet stitch itself together. It was one or the other, both at the same time, or neither.
Would Minute have hurt him lik3 MapiCc w@$?
His sense of sight was way too distorted. Weird shapes that blurred together and didn’t make sense. His sense of hearing was way too messed up. His ears were ringing way too loudly and he could barely hear his own sobs or his own tears hitting the ground.
He nearly forgot what he was even glitching out over.
But that didn’t stop it. If anything that made it worse.
Why was he panicking? Why did everything hurt? Why wasn’t he safe? What did he do? What was happening? Where was he? Who was he? How long had he been here for? Did he want to go home? Where was home? Why-what-where-who-when-how, over and over and over and over and oVer aNd 0ver AnD oU3r @nD OvER-
“Spoke!”
The voidling flinched harshly. So much so that he almost passed out as his body nearly ceased to exist. He didn’t want to phase out of existence. He still had so much to do. Why was he still crying? What was he sobbing for? He wasn’t meant to show weakness. When did he start lying and manipulating so much? Why did he exploit? Was his mind finally collapsing in on itself? Took long enough. But he didn’t want it yet. Or did he? He didn’t know. What did he want? Was his story over yet? Was his life over? ToOk l0nG 3novgh. Bvt h3 dIDnt w@nt It yeT. oR d!d He? H3 D!dN’+ ku0w. wHaT dID h3 w4nt?
wh@t DId H3 MauT?
MhA+ bld hE w@nt?
WhAt Did H3 W4NT?
Suddenly he felt something other than pain.
He wasn’t entirely sure what it was.
It felt nice.
It felt grounding.
Spoke didn’t want it to go away.
The feeling surrounded him.
Comforting.
Was this home?
No, home was Mapicc.
Was this Mapicc?
He couldn’t tell.
Still,
he gripped onto it like a lifeline.
Because it was the only thing keeping him stable.
It was the only thing keeping him here.
Spoke never wanted to let go. He didn’t want the feeling to go away.
The feeling was nice, and made him feel safe, and he wanted to stay enveloped in it for as long as physically possible. It didn’t matter that he was still crying. He wasn’t sobbing or screeching in pain anymore, at least. Nothing mattered as long as he stayed here, in this soft embrace.
And Mapicc knew that, so he didn’t let go. The demonic border collie had a feeling Spoke wasn’t aware of his surroundings. But that was okay. They still had around ten or so minutes left until Jamato came back.
So, Mapicc hugged Spoke tightly, making sure he didn’t glitch or phase or waver or flicker away again (it seriously almost gave him a heart attack when Spoke entirely disappeared for a full three seconds). He had one hand moving slow, comforting circles into Spoke’s back, and the other hand gently going through his hair.
At some point Spoke’s vision and sense of touch cleared up enough for him to make out who was hugging him. It was Mapicc.
It was Mapicc.
It was Mapicc’s red hoodie, slightly duller from age and with a few patches from when he had to stitch pieces back together because it had been damaged when he and Spoke did something stupid.
It was Mapicc’s lean arms wrapped around him, his warm hands rubbing circles into Spoke’s back and combing through his hair.
..Spoke missed this. He thought he would never get to hug his best friend again. Subconsciously Spoke’s thin tail wrapped around Mapicc’s dog-like one, keeping them entwined. Eventually the voidling’s ears stopped ringing so much, too. He could make out Mapicc calmly talking to him, telling him to take deep breaths and focus on staying here.
This was familiar. Spoke liked familiar. Familiar meant he didn’t need to think about it too much. He could focus on other things. Right now he could just focus on breathing, and staying real, and not phasing out, and on Mapicc.
He liked to focus on Mapicc. The gentle yet strong hug, the reassuring words, just Mapicc being here and comforting him instead of yelling at him. Spoke would have to apologize better later. He had a lot to say sorry for. Mostly to Mapicc. And to Jumper. And probably quite a few other people.
“Are you with me yet?” Mapicc asked softly. Void, Spoke was so glad it was that soft, worried tone rather than a loud, angry one.
“k!Nd 0f,” Spoke whispered. His voice was hoarse from crying and still glitchy.
“Your voice is still glitching,” the demonic border collie murmured.
“I kn0w.” It was less messed up that time, at least.
Mapicc took a breath, and with the hand that was originally combing through Spoke’s hair he grabbed a book. He was going to give it to Spoke the best chance he got, anyways. And Jamato had left them alone for a bit.
“Read this when you’re stable enough, alright?” Mapicc said. His voice was quiet, just to be safe. He didn’t entirely trust Jamato to completely leave them alone.
“Okay..?” Spoke said, confused.
“You okay now?”
“I think so..”
“Good,” Mapicc breathed out. “You scared the hell out of me.”
Spoke paused.
He-.. He had scared Mapicc? No, Spoke wasn’t meant to scare Mapicc. He didn’t want to scare Mapicc.
“Sorry,” the voidling whispered. He wasn’t sure if that was for scaring Mapicc or for all the lies he had told. Maybe both. He’d still say sorry better later anyways, though.
“What are you saying sorry for?” Mapicc asked, slightly pulling away. He kept his hands on Spoke’s shoulders, keeping contact, continuing to offer comfort.
“Scaring you?” Spoke shrugged, “Lying to you? I- don’t really know.. I have a lot to say sorry for.”
That’s probably been one of the most truthful things he’d said this entire time.
Mapicc just looked at him, uncertainly staining his gaze.
Spoke wasn’t sure how to feel about that look.
Then the voidling realized something. His body flickered for a brief moment. “Where’s Jamato-?”
“He left us for twenty minutes,” Mapicc answered. “We have.. Probably three minutes left.”
“Okay..” Spoke murmured, processing. “Okay.”
“Take these,” Mapicc whispered. They were wind charges. “Read the book, don’t let anything slip. Alright?”
Spoke stared, stunned for a second. He took the wind charges, and he opened the book. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to let out a laugh, a sigh of relief, or if wanted to cry because Mapicc hadn’t betrayed him.
“Together, alright?” Mapicc murmured.
The voidling smiled. “Together.”