Pixel - - A Cube SMP Fanfiction

Chapter Twelve

Hello everybody, and welcome back to Pixel! c:

There is something I'd like of your opinions on, but it's going to be at the bottom, as the question of the chapter. I highly suggest you answer ;)

Anyway, I've basically told the plot for the main points of the rest of the story to my IRL best friend, who also reads my fanfictions. You know who you are ;) no spoilers, k? Love you ~
EDIT: I've dedicated this chapter to her. Go check her out, she's amazing even if she doesn't update often and she's been my best friend for years and years <333 Love you to the moon and back, always ;) (those inside jokes)

Also, a lot of you requested new POVs when I asked for opinions, so I fufilled your request ;)

Remember to follow @code_cherry on Twitter, and to vote and comment for more. Enjoy!

W I L L  [ K I I N G T O N G ]

This is bad.

I leaned back in my chair, sighing and rubbing my face with my hands. I knew that there was something up with all of this. I’d had this bad feeling ever since Graser had announced it weeks ago. 

And here we were.

I’d jumped when I heard Jordan’s voice calling through the teamspeak. I hadn’t been able to see him, but his tone said it all. He was desperate and a bit frightened, and he’d seized the chance to talk to the outside world without a second thought. 

I stared up at the ceiling. They’ve been stuck there for three weeks, and nobody knew.

Recalling what I’d told Jordan, I checked the private recording rooms and spotted Parker in one. Thank god. I poked him, asking if we could talk privately. He responded that he’d meet me in the private chat room in five minutes.

I switched to the private chatroom and waited, scrolling through Twitter on my phone. The same tweets from fans: “Where’s Bayani?” “Where’s Graser?” and everything alone those lines.  I took another deep breath as emotions rose up within me again. It’d been happening a lot over the past couple weeks, and even more so in the last five days or so. It had been Bee and Devon who had calmed me down: according to them I had started yelling, crying, and spouting nonsense, and it had taken the both of them to bring me back to reality. It took a lot of my willpower to prevent that from happening again: I managed to keep myself under control, pushing those feelings back down before they got out of hand.

It had almost happened again when I heard Jordan. I was frightened to think of what would’ve happened if it had.

I was pulled out of my thoughts by Parker’s voice. “Kiingtong? You in here buddy?”

I unmuted. “Yeah, man. I’m here.”

“What’s up? I was filming Challenge Accepted.”

“Sorry.” I hesitated. “It’s about the others. The ones who’ve been missing.”

“Did you find them?”

“Well, sort of.” And I explained to him what had happened while Bee, Devon and I had been talking. He was silent until I finished.

“So they’re stuck inside Minecraft?” he asked, sounding surprised.

I nodded. “Yes.”

“Dang, dude. Are they okay?”

“I think so. I told Bayani we’d try to contact the developers and see if we can find a way to free them.”

“Alright, I see what you’re asking. I’ll email them right now.” A few clicks of Parker’s keyboard, and I sat quietly while he typed. A couple minutes later, and he declared, “Finished. Now all we can do is wait.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, staring, unseeing, at the desk in front of me.

“Hey, Kiingtong?”

“Hmm?”

“It’ll be okay, man. We’ll have ‘em home in no time, you’ll see.”

“I hope so, Parker.” I clicked out of teamspeak, trying desperately to suppress the wave of emotions that were threatening to explode once more. I stayed still, taking deep, controlled breaths, until I could no longer sense the risk. 

I had to distance myself for a while, or I was going to have another attack.

I was across the room in a few strides, hesitating at the door. My eyes drifted to the only photograph on my desk. A younger me, wrapped in the arms of my slightly older sister. She’d been my best friend, until she vanished years ago. They’d never found her. 

That was when my anxiety had begun. I used to have daily attacks until I met Jordan: he’d been the first person besides her to understand me, to make me laugh. He’d kept me under control.

I stared at her image wistfully. “Please, Ashlyn. Help me get through this. I need someone. I need you.”

... well, I came up with the idea for this chapter literally right after I posted the last one. Not my original plan, but I like it nonetheless.

Anyways:

Here's what I need your opinion on. I've had a couple people message me over the past few weeks asking me to read their stories and give my opinion, and some others telling me that I inspire their writing (still haven't wrapped my mind around this...), so my idea was that I create a sort of handbook. A new "story", with each chapter giving some kind of tip about writing well (in my opinion, obviously), focusing on things like Imagery, Dialogue, etc. It would be updated less often than my stories, of course: perhaps once a week? I'm not sure. 

QUESTION OF THE CHAPTER:

Is this idea something you would like to see happen? Would you be interested at all? I really don't want to sound conceited by making this, but I feel like it would be easier for everyone who wants to improve and asks me for help.

Vote and comment for more! Until next chapter!

~Cherry