The Turf War Twisted

A Wholesome Sneak Attack

Grian looked over the Shopping District from the top of The Barge. He was sitting on the roof with his elytra tucked down, its purple glow providing a little light against the dark night. He wanted to go home, back to his base, but he couldn't for some reason. He didn't feel like relaxing would do him any good, so he just stayed at night. As far as he was concerned, he was perfectly fine, but Impulse kept trying to tell him that he needed sleep. Grian's lack of sleep led to him pacing all around the Resistance headquarters and checking his shop over and over; he would recheck his stock too many times a day to count.

Grian sighed and jumped skillfully off the roof of The Barge, deploying his elytra and floating down to the road with grace. He looked around before walking off, being as discreet as possible. He flew into the Resistance base carefully, landing softly on the large meeting table. His landing was weightless from all his flying experience, not to mention that he had to learn to be stealthy ever since becoming Mother Spore.

Despite Grian's silent entrance into the Resistance headquarters, it didn't get past Etho and Impulse's pinpoint detection skills. From the ledge at the roof of the headquarters, Impulse gave Etho a firm nod. Both of them looked down at Grian, who seemed to be in a small daze, still standing on the table. Before Grian had any time to react, Etho and Impulse flew down from the ledge with lightning fast speed, Etho pushing down hard on Grian's left arm and Impulse taking his right.

Grian yelped in surprise, wondering how he didn't hear that he was being attacked. Etho and Impulse pressed down with all their weight on Grian's arms and torso, not allowing his elytra to open. "Wha-" Grian lifted his head to see who was restraining him, and it was more than just a surprise to see that it was Etho and Impulse. "What are you guys doing? Get off me!" He struggled against their strong grip, but their combined strength didn't allow him to shake them off.

"Listen Grian, don't take this the wrong way," Etho replied, looking pretty relaxed even though he was using as much force as he could to hold Grian down. "But we're trying to help you."

Impulse spoke up to explain further, "We're worried about you, G. Both of us knew you'd come down here to do more work, but you need sleep." He paused for a second, thinking his next words through. "You just need a break. We'll let you go if you agree to go back to your base and take a break from working for once in your life."

Grian's expression softened a little when he heard those words. His struggling died down until he was completely still, lost in his thoughts. He couldn't even remember the last time he rested, or even considered doing so. All his focus was on caring for the Resistance, especially since Stress and Ren got pretty bad injuries from one of their last fights. Grian spent a lot of time taking care of them, and then right after, started strategising ways to prevent injuries like that happening again.

"Why are you guys so worried about me?" Grian asked, his tone genuine and soft. Though, there was a slight exasperation to it. "I don't need a break. If anything, I need to work more."

With those last few words, Etho's eyes squinted and his grip on Grian tightened in anger. "You have been overworking yourself for months, doing everything for the Resistance and more! And you have the nerve to say you need to work harder?!" Etho had no intention of coming off as rude, but he was furious that Grian would do this to himself.

He thought about Etho's words. Overworking for months? Grian thought, wondering if that much time had really passed. For him it felt as if the Turf War had only been going for a few weeks. "Months?" Grian asked, still being pinned down by his fellow Resistance members.

Impulse and Etho let him go and he sat up slowly. "Yeah, it's been four months already," Impulse said, brushing the hair out of his eyes. "I don't know how long the war will last but these four months have drained us, you most of all."

Grian couldn't believe it. He'd never considered how long it had been. No calendar with crossed out dates, no routine that helped him keep track of the weeks of work. With the realisation, he began to wonder if the war would ever end. He began to wonder if he even wanted to win. It felt almost pointless, but the bliss of winning had been blinding him. Grian couldn't let down the other members. They all had their own unique reasons for joining, and he couldn't let those all go to waste because the passion had left him.

"I can't believe it's been that long." His voice was almost wispy and unsure. He was gazing off into space, down one of the hallways in front of him. He shook himself out of his thoughts, quite literally, shaking his head. "But that doesn't matter. I still have to map things out, plan more attacks, get more mycelium farms u-"

His droning on about his tasks was cut off by Impulse grabbing his face. He had done it on a whim, not really thinking about it, but it was effective in stopping Grian from stressing himself out more with the more he listed. Impulse turned Grian's head to make their eyes meet for just a moment. "You're taking a break, whether you like it or not. I know Etho and I can't really force you to do anything since you're the leader, but because you're the leader, you gotta listen to your fellow Resistance members." Impulse's words were well enunciated and the message came across calm and clear.

Grian knew that Impulse was always good at bringing people to their senses, but he never expected it to be him that needed to be brought back down to earth. Grian sighed, his body sinking down with his exhale. His expression softened quickly, nodding slightly despite Impulse still holding his face steady. Impulse smiled in response, letting go of Grian's face.

"So, Grian, what do you wanna do for your time off?" Etho asked, subtly pushing the encouragement of the break more.

Grian thought for a moment, eyes shifting side to side to try and form ideas in his head. He wasn't sure what he could really do that wouldn't be considered "work" to him. Even working on his base was starting to become a bit of a chore, though it did still bring him those small moments of joy when it came together nicely.

After a bit of thought, all Grian could say was, "Tag."

(word count: 1140 words)