Hermitcraft and Empires Oneshots

Disconnected (Xisuma)

So I know I said I probably wouldn't be writing any time soon, but I was in a really angsty mood and inspiration hit me, and since I always write at times like these here we go. 

Possible T.W.: Derealization, (maybe)

Xisuma's P.O.V.

Xisuma sighed as he closed the communicator. It had been another long day of work on the hermitcraft sever and he had not been prepared for the sudden dinging of his communicator signaling he had been messaged privately.

It was another hermit ranting to him about something. He should have been used to it by now, after all, the majority of the hermits had been ranting to him about many of their problems for many seasons now. Whether seeking advice or just comfort, not that he was good at providing either.

He really didn't understand why the hermits decided to rant to him. Sure, he was one of the few openly friendly and semi-stable people on the hermitcraft server, but that didn't mean he had social skills or was good at giving advice or comfort, much less knowing what to do when someone came to him with something actually serious.

Currently he was wandering around his area, half complaining to himself half debating if he should go talk to his brother. I mean, sure he knew his brother was conniving and manipulative, but he could also be nice when he wanted to be, and he had a sweet side. In the end the axolotl decided he would wander around his area a bit.

He never really got to check out his builds after building them, it was just back to the grind to get something else done. Now, to take a brake and look up at everything he had done, it really was a wonderful sight to behold. The towering lighthouse, his cozy starter house, the tunnel-like greenhouse that sloped down the hill.

He looked wistfully over to the bridge, towers, and tunnel that led to the little copper-roofed village he had been building up. He had not taken the time to see it properly, but currently EX was working on something there, and had told Xisuma to stay away from the area. Xisuma had a sneaking suspicion what he was doing, but couldn't prove anything.

Xisuma had barely  noticed the clouds gathering overhead all this time, and was thoroughly surprised when the rain started to pour down on him from above. Sighing, he looked up wistfully before going to his starter home. After shaking off a bit of the water from himself, he went to his bedroom and sat down at a desk he had in the corner.

There wasn't much on the desk, a single ink-pot half full next to a quill and an open book. In that book were pages upon pages documenting his day to day activities. Thoughts, ideas, dreams, what he did that day, the things that surprised him, complaints from the hermits, and things he needed to work on for the server.

Presently he sat down on the chair, but did not pick up the quill or the book, and began staring off into space. It was who knows how long later when Xisuma was startled out of his trance by another ding from his communicator. Sighing, he picked up the pesky little device. He really didn't want to deal with this right now.

Yesterday was enough stress, with the server meeting and then the hermitgal crew talking to him for a while afterward, wanting to talk about something he couldn't remember. And after already two of the hermits needing to rant to him today, he really didn't need another one. He read the message, scanning through it a second time to make sure he had read everything correctly.

It seemed as if a rather rare predicament had popped up, but  not one the server admin hadn't seen before. It was Iskall ranting to Xisuma about how he had a crush on Etho but didn't know how to go about dealing with it. Being aromantic himself, or at least never having felt romantic attraction before, Xisuma did his best to give advice based on a few books and TV shows he had seen, and some stories a few of the hermits had told him of their own lovers.

After that was done, Xisuma was completely drained. He couldn't deal with this anymore, with any of this. The previous rant had left him feeling empty and sad, having been about serious things that he could do no more for that recommending a therapist and saying a few reassuring things.

He lay there, on his bed, wondering how he got himself wrapped up in all of this. He always had been an introvert with very limited social energy outside of routine situations. Things like school when he was young, or the antagonizing ways of his brother. That, he could deal with. Things he had learned and trained himself to deal with. But this, it was always so sudden and varied there was no way he could train for it.

And now, he was left having to always listen to the rants of the hermits, always having to hear about things from their minor worries, to their deepest fear and depression. From all of it, everything, he just felt empty. Numb to the bone. Drained of energy and feeling. He knew it would go away, eventually, but right now it felt endless, incessant, and suffocating. It was as if he had been drained of everything he had ever held dear, everything he ever held important to himself or his being.

The ability to connect to those things or people, those phenomenon or miracles, just seemed to have disappeared, leaving him feeling empty and unaware. Lost in the endless void of meaning and words and numbers and definitions that was human language and society without having the emotion to deal with any of it. 

With most of the hermits having some sort of mental instability, and him supposedly being the "stable" and friendly one among them he got the bulk of their problems. It didn't help that he was the admin. It didn't help that he almost constantly overworked himself and almost never allowed himself to take a break and just, take it all in. 

He felt disconnected, cut off from everything. He felt empty, drained of that essence that some say is your soul. He felt like he just wasn't on the same plane as all of them. They all had social skills, seemed like normal people, had normal people problems. Meanwhile all he could do was sit and watch on. Like he was in a separate world watching them, and he could interact with them, but he couldn't tell what they were feeling. He couldn't feel what he was supposed to be feeling.

It all just felt disconnected, unreal, unreliable. Like his senses were feeding him illusions, his brain was tricking him to see things. Maybe that was why he always felt as if her were different from everyone. Like he was human but not. Not the same, not alike. Disconnected.