The Crew's Book of Hermitcraft Season 7 Oneshots

Birdnapped (Magic Fools AU)

The nearest world hub to Hermitcraft was, as usual, bustling and busy. This was no more true than in the market, which, even on an off-day, was full of stalls selling things from at least seven different dimensions and five different modpacks, as well as homemade art. People roamed around, oohing and aahing at whatever those people with Tinker's Construct, or Immersive Portals, or even the Create Mod had made. Among them were three familiar faces, just having a friends' day out together.

Impulse turned over the mask he'd found in his hands, experimentally holding it up to his face and showing it off in the mirror propped up against the side of the stall, weighing up how it looked on him. It was fabulous, he was fabulous, but he wasn't entirely sure if it was better than any of the masquerade masks he already owned.

"You look amazing, Impulse!" Zed's voice came from behind Impulse, along with an inexplicable feeling of dread. Then again, Zed was always accompanied by an inexplicable feeling of dread - it was just a Zedaph thing or something - so Impulse didn't really notice that fact.

"I'm honestly kind of on the fence about it." Impulse replied, taking it off and turning to face Zed. "What do you think?"

"I think that even if you wore it to the Infernal Gala itself, you'd still outshine everyone there."

"...Really?" Impulse asked, his tone suddenly thoughtful. Zed didn't know, of course, but Impulse, as the infernal ambassador to the sprites, was actually a regular attendee to that very same masquerade, and he wouldn't mind an opportunity to show everyone else up next time it rolled around. It might even prevent him from being the inevitable assassination target.

"Well, except for the grim reaper." Zed conceded. "He's just too fabulous."

"If you say so." Impulse chuckled. With that, he and Zed moved on to discussing the other masks on display.

"I'm just gonna go have a look around elsewhere." Tango quietly said, backing out of a conversation in which he had no real stake.

"Don't end up in mortal peril, I don't have time!" Zed called after him. Tango grinned at Zed's Zedness, and then wandered off.

He meandered aimlessly, noticing a stall that sold fire resistance potions pre-mixed in such a way that they could fireproof fabric - he made a mental note to come back here once his own supplies of the stuff ran out - as well as a few other things he found mildly interesting, although he only caved to buy one shiny trinket, because it was the shiniest shiny trinket.

It was just after he bought the thing when he passed by a side alley, and something caught his eye. In the alley was another stall, separated from the rest of the market. On display, it had small vials of something, and more concerningly, items of clothing bearing feathers of a disturbingly familiar orange. Tango shifted his shoulders uncomfortably, wishing that he could show his wings, just so he could make sure they were still there.

It was probably fine, though. Many phoenixes sold shed feathers, as a bit of income on the side, or maybe to increase the chances of a future incarnation of theirs being able to bring them back, or whatever. That was probably what was going on there. With that, he decided do go and help a fellow phoenix out.

Still, the thought that something else was going on wouldn't leave his mind. Maybe it was just a gut feeling, maybe it was something in the stallholder's smile. Maybe it was the fact that the tip of one of the quills was stained a shade of red that no phoenix's feathers were (their blood, on the other hand... well). In any case, maybe it wouldn't hurt to ask.

"Where did you find these?" Tango asked innocently, gesturing to one of the boas.

"The usual way." The stallholder answered. "Asking... 'nicely'."