Awakened

Someone He Used to Know

((This chapter was fighting tooth and nail not to be posted, but I still prevail!

You know, I drew that picture back in August. Now I'm finally sharing it here in December. Lol.
He's a fluffy boi.))

Cross sat back on the overhang he'd just built, the nether brick surprisingly warm in the sun. The stairs were finally covered, the outside was finally done.
…He was glad to not need any more obsidian. It was definitely a bad idea to build with it, though he was too stubborn to stop once started.

Still, he was proud of the covered porch. He wasn't sure what to do with the basement underneath it yet- maybe he'd just cover the entrance if he couldn't think of anything. Or more storage. Decisions, decisions.
..His skin itched with lilac fur he couldn't get rid of.

Cross sat up at the sound of someone climbing the scaffolding beside him. He only tensed when he registered the white fur and patches of bluish black.
Ink finally met his gaze, pausing.
…He was still so small. Like he'd stayed the same size the moment he'd left before either of them were really.. anyone at all.

“Hi.” Ink spoke up softly. The tendrils behind his head curled up and out in opposite directions, holding that pose for whatever reason.
Cross dithered awkwardly for a moment. He had no idea what to say.
“Is there something you wanted?” He asked.

“I uh.” The smaller piglin hefted himself up, sitting on the lower end of the side roof across from him. Cross felt his nose twitch as he caught a whiff of that mold. Surprisingly, despite definitely being undead, he never smelled any rot on the other. Just that musty, slightly metallic smelling mold.

“Is there. Any chance I could help?” Ink offered haltingly, fiddling with his scarf in his hands.
“You know, with the building and everything.” He gestured vaguely at the wall Cross was leaning against. He almost said no outright, but then he hesitated.

“..Did you make that star room you trapped us in?” Cross asked instead.
Ink scrunched up his snout at that. “I didn't trap you in-” He cut himself off, an odd look in his eyes for a moment before his shoulders slumped.
“Yeah. I built it.”

Now Cross was thinking. Objectively, ignoring.. well, everything else, that structure had been genuinely impressive. He wasn't sure how the other had incorporated actual mold into it, but it was surprisingly elegant when used that way. From a distance, there sort of was a near beauty to the unsettling stuff. Glittering like the night sky.
It was only unnerving up close, when one recognized the spots as actual glowing pustules of some fluid, lumpy like a mess of pimples.

Clearly Ink wasn't put off by that. Why would he? Parts of him were literally covered in the stuff, after all. Granted, the sculk on him seemed a little less.. lumpy. The glowing spots were rather slightly indented, as if retreating from the surface. Maybe..
Cross had an idea. One he was sure he'd end up regretting, but an idea nonetheless.

“I don't think I want sculk in this house.” He admitted. Ink seemed to wilt a little at that before he continued.
“But I don't really know what to do with the basement. It was supposed to be where my storage and portal would be, but that ended up in the warped woods as well. Now it's empty and I'm not sure what to do with it.” He looked up again only to see that Ink was just gone.

Cross stared in disbelief, leaning forward in confusion before flinching violently when the tiny piglin shot back over the edge, banging his head on the wall in surprise. Ink paused, blinking before he spoke.
“Hole under the stairs, right?” He asked.
“Yeah.” Cross muttered, rubbing the back of his head.

“Oh you hit your head? Are you okay?” There was a hint of excitement that was fading into concern.
“M’ fine.” He huffed, hand dropping to his side as he regarded the drop off the roof. Maybe he could just jump and land in the pond. It was probably deep enough, right?
…He'd probably get covered in weeds.