Team Fluff's Entries

The Difference [skye's entry]

Hey, hey. Guess who got carried away?

The idea came to me a little too quickly, and I had way too much time to work with. To whoever has to read this, I am very and truly sorry.

Story takes place in season 6.

No trigger warnings, I don't think..?
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Word Count: 7,491
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"Where are you going?"

"You don't need to know."

"Will you come back?"

"..."

The hardwood floors sank underneath the weight of the figures walking past, giving way with a soft creak after every step. The house was cold, and completely desolate. Inhabited only by dust bunnies and mites of all shapes and sizes. What may have once been a warm and humble abode felt only like a cemetery of forgotten memories, left cold and barren for time to come and claim; its visitors were unwelcome.

Grian led the way with a steady gait, his pathing slow yet precise. Mumbo and Iskall followed close behind, clearly dubious of what appeared to be the hull of the home, but kept up nonetheless. The patterns on the walls were small and intricate, clearly akin to some of the grander things that the newest hermit had proved himself to be capable of. The ceilings were tall, and the rooms well furnished. A lifetime's worth of skill and experience having melded into a single build.

At last they came to a stop inside the master bedroom, the air stilling abruptly as they stepped through the open space. Grian walked forward, gaze fixated on the closet in the corner. He reached out to grab the handle, though a sudden hesitation crossed his mind. Still, a pair stood behind him now, waiting patiently with bated breath. There was no turning back now. He opened the door quickly, too afraid to spend a moment too long considering his options, and opting for something else. This was what he wanted, and not a single doubt would cross his mind, or lead him to think otherwise.

A metal sheen reflected the dim light, the vague semblance of a human form emerging from behind the wooden frame. Grian held it by the arms, gently pulling it out and laying it down across the ground. A rush of memories ran through his mind, only quickening the pace of his already racing heart. Their conception, his progress; all of it came back to him within a heartbeat. The guilt struck painfully against the hull of his chest; if there was any damage, whose fault could it have been but his own? What could he do to repair it?

"This is NPG," he stated solemnly, looking up to his fellow architechs with a pair of pleading eyes. Ones that were glazed over with hope, and an underlying sense of despair. "Help them. Please."

Mumbo and Iskall shared a look, one more time. The project ahead of them was one made out of metal, powered solely by the dust they had studied for decades by then. They didn't need to think about the messy consequences of manhandling life; not this time... right? Ahead of them now was simply a machine. Surely, they could do this. Surely, they could pull this off. After all, redstone was their specialty...

right?

-

"Who am I?"

"Whoever you want to be."

"Who are you?"

"Whoever you want me to be."

NPG. It stood for "non-player Grian". Talk about creativity. How long did that take to come up with? NPG was supposed to be a simple machine; a tool to help with building. Getting attached was never the intention. Nor was making familial bonds with a non living entity. The universe had other plans, he guessed.