a lump in the throat

Chapter 2

This time, Ex did throw the poem into the lava. It was a decision born of impulsive anger, but he didn't regret it. Nope. Not at all.

"I don't regret it," he told himself, but it came out weak and unconvincing.

It didn't help when Joe started messaging him about it.

[joehillssays whispered to Evil_Xisuma: How's the poem going? :D]

Ex glared at his communicator and shoved it back in his pocket. Smiley faces? What was he, twelve?

Ex never answered any of his messages, but Joe never stopped sending them, either. It just became part of his routine. Wake up, patrol the fortress, message from Joe, AFK at his farms.

[joehillssays whispered to Evil_Xisuma: Did you decide whether to rhyme or not?]

[joehillssays whispered to Evil_Xisuma: What's your process for editing?]

[joehillssays whispered to Evil_Xisuma: I bet the poem is going to be great!]

He had to admit, it wasn't completely terrible. If nothing else, it was a reminder that he wasn't the only player in this world. It was a bit frustrating, though, in that it meant he couldn't stop thinking about the poem. The words were burned into his head as much as they had been burned up in lava.

Left behind as an accidental gift

And a clear sign of something gone amiss.

A speck of white against a sea of red:

A secret poem left for dead.

But it was the start to something

He was just going to have to write the damn thing, wasn't he? Ex sighed and abandoned the shulker box he had been half-heartedly trying to organized and pulled out his poetry book and his quill.

The start to something - what, exactly? Where did he want to take this story?

Tragic and - "No, tragic starts with a stressed syllable," he muttered to himself, scratching it out. "Mysterious - no, that's got two unstressed syllables one after another..."

He wrote for what seemed like hours, agonizing over syllables and iambs and rhythms, but in the end, he had nothing to show for it. Nothing fit, nothing worked, nothing flowed. If he hadn't been wearing his helmet, he would have been tearing his own hair out.

His communicator beeped. It was Joe, of course.

[joehillssays whispered to Evil_Xisuma: Are you having fun finishing the poem? :D]

Scowling, Ex typed his first reply. [Evil_Xisuma whispered to joehillssays: no it sucks i hate your stupid poem]

Surprisingly, Joe responded. [joehillssays whispered to Evil_Xisuma: Want me to come over?]

Ex rolled his eyes. [Evil_Xisuma whispered to joehillssays: I don't care what you do.]

He got no reply this time. "Probably figured it's not worth his time," Ex told himself, putting his book and quill away. He needed a break from writing.

He opened the shulker box and continued organizing it. To be honest, he wasn't organizing it as much as inventorying it. He needed to know if it was worth it to make a storage room or whether he should just keep carrying everything around in his Ender chest. At the moment, he was leaning towards the "carrying everything around in his Ender chest" option, but was considering making better storage units for just his farms.

Rockets sounded outside the fortress walls. Ex perked his head up to look out the window. To his surprise, it was Joe.

Ex went out to the bridge to meet him. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Joe shrugged. "You seemed frustrated."

"Yeah? And?"

"I'm here to help!"

"I don't want your help to write the poem. What's even the point of me finishing it if you're just going to write it for me?"

"Now, I may not know for certain, but I've got a feeling that what's going to help you more than anything is a break. I'm here to help you unwind."

Ex's eyebrows climbed higher and higher with every word that Joe spoke. "Unwind? I don't know if you've noticed, but we're in the Nether. Not really any opportunities to "unwind" down here."

"We hang out at my base," Joe suggested. "Or we could go play golf at the country club."

Ex snorted, but Joe frowned. "What?"

"I can't leave the Nether, idiot."

"Why not?"

Ex's lip curled. "Xisuma banned me, remember?"

"I thought he unbanned you? You wouldn't be able to exist in this world if you were banned."

"Maybe that's how it usually works, but not for me. I know. I've tried going through Nether portals. It doesn't work."

"Huh." Joe tapped his chin, thinking. "That puts a damper on our plans, but not to worry. We'll find something fun to do; we're in no hurry."

"You work on that," said Ex. "I'm going to keep doing what I was doing before you showed up."

"What were you doing?"

"Organizing my shulker boxes."

"Want some help?"

"If you want to spend your day - or night, or whatever it is - organizing my shulker boxes, I'm not going to argue."

Joe was surprisingly easy to work with. Ex had thought his steady stream of chatter would become irritating, but it was actually rather pleasant. Joe talked about everything and anything, mostly in rhymes. He mentioned how if he had his abacus, inventorying supplies would be much easier. Despite the lack of abacus, they finished quite quickly.

For some reason, Ex was disappointed that they had finished so fast. He dilly-dallied for a few minutes, improvising mundane tasks that needed to be completed before they could deem the overall task of inventory "finished."

Finally, Joe said, "This has been fun, right?"

"Yeah, I guess."

Joe beamed. "See? I told you we'd be able to find something fun to do in the Nether!" He equipped his elytra and readied his fireworks. "I'm a little busy for the next few days, but I'll try to visit again soon.

Ex blinked. "What?"

"Only if you want me too, of course."

"No, I - yes, I mean, but - why?"

It was Joe's turn to be puzzled. "Why? Well, I wouldn't be a very good friend if I never visited."

"Of course," Ex said, pretending like he hadn't just be smacked in the face by that sentence. "See you then, I suppose."

Joe smiled at him. "See you then!"