Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was nice to be seen off by the whole server. They didn’t often get together at the same time, and Etho was pretty flattered to think the exception this time was himself.

He got handshakes from XB and encouragement from Joe, spine cracking hugs from Cleo and Tango and every other Hermit not going with them who Etho could stand to let manhandle him. Which was most of them at this point- a thing he never thought would happen.

Etho was nervous, and they could probably tell. He could admit that. He wasn’t… A super social guy. A lot of people outside of Hermitcraft knew of him, or about him; but outside of the Hermits, some older redstoners, and select modders that treated him with a bewildered kind of reverence every time he got addicted to some dungeon crawling server game-

Nobody really knew him.

Bdubs knew him of course, and Etho was happy to see his best friend's face shoving it’s way through the gathered crowd of Hermits right around shoulder height, panting and red faced and moss cloak mussed. It was still early Autumn, and the Hermitcraft server was brisk and cool with the encroaching promise of pumpkins, hot drinks, and mischief.

It also meant that Bdubs’ moss cloak was giving one last bloom for the year, delicate little flowers as big as the tip of a pen dotting his shoulders and the edge of his hood. It meant that his diet had been good, and that he wasn’t stressed , and it made a similar loosening of tension go through Etho’s shoulders as Bdubs tackled him somewhere around his middle, face buried under Etho’s collarbone and making a happy trilling sound that was so distinctly glare -like that it made Etho grin sharp toothed under his mask.

“Aw, Bdubs, gonna miss me?”

“Yes stupid I’m gonna miss you!” Bdubs complained, tightening his grip with a grunt and moving slightly back and forth in the hug. Etho’s back cracked agreeably, and he sighed, returning the squeeze and meeting Xisuma’s amused look over Bdubs head. Xisuma was accompanying them, of course- and leaving Hermitcraft locked up tighter than a bank vault behind them. “You’re gonna wipe the floor with the competition man, I can’t wait to see the recordings!”

“I’m only sad you can’t come. Gonna miss your sweet little face in the audience.” Etho teased, pinching Bdubs cheeks as he jerked his head free indignantly, squawking and red faced.

“Shut up! I wanna come, but I got too much work to do! But- it’s okay!” Bdubs batted Etho off of him as if he hadn’t been the one clinging for all he was worth, turning to gesture triumphantly to a bemused looking Doc. “I got my best man on the job!”

“I just want to see Philza beat your tail at Rocket-Spleef.” Doc said with a grin, and Etho resisted the urge to make a face.

“I really don’t know why you agreed in the first place.” Pearl commented, slinging an arm around Etho’s shoulders. It caused Bdubs to jealously start pushing at her, shoving his head under her arm and butting in a very mob like way- and when that didn’t work to dislodge her, he started sulkily pulling at the leading edge of her dusk-gray wing where it was curved around Etho’s shoulders. “I’ve been at… Oh, I don’t know, six of these? And all I hear is, ‘Wow! Hermitcraft, huh? When’s Etho coming. Oh, do you know Etho, his books taught me everything I know about Redstone…’”

“Because he’s FAMOUS!” Bdubs yelled, finally managing to dislodge Pearl off of a now faintly flushed Etho. She giggled and turned her attention to Bdubs instead, wrapping him in her silvery wings and wrestling him away from Etho and halfway to the ground in a cocoon of feathers. “He’s a LEGEND. He’s gonna WIPE THE FLOOR with the competition and you as well Missy-”

“I’m just hoping I don’t get last.” Etho said sadly to Doc, who nodded in agreement. Bdubs started squawking as Pearl got him on the ground and started pulling his arm back behind him, both of them grunting and scuffling and Pearl’s wings flapping like a chicken that had found a fox in the coop.

“You are a little rusty, Etho.” Doc said generously, rubbing his shoulder. “But hey, training with Gem paid off, huh?”

Etho shuddered. “I mean…”

“Yes! Yes it did! ” Bdubs burst out from under Pearls armpit. “I know you went easy on her. That was real nice of you Etho, these young whippersnappers need the confidence boost.”

Gem met Etho’s eyes from where she was waiting with the other Hermits to see the five of them off, and grimaced. “Yeah Etho… Thanks. Real nice of you.” She said, her mouth twitching. She was also very busy at her base, filling the rooms of her keep with lavish interiors, custom furniture, and. Well. An embarrassing amount of Etho’s magical likenesses after the aforementioned combat sessions.

His only comfort was that there were a few Doc, Ren, and Xisuma heads in the batch.

“Any time Gem.” Etho had the benefit of his mask to hide his grin- although nothing was hiding Grian’s cackling laughter.

Pearl, Grian, and False took up most of the teleporting area with their wings- Pearl with her dove gray wings, Grian’s just as short red, and False’s more powerful looking chestnut brown. Impulse was making sure everyone’s bags were organized by the actual portal vertices (humming and glowing with an increase any time Xisuma shifted closer to them), and Cub was speaking with Zedaph about… Something. Probably the actual program that was going to take them over to the MCC hub. Zedaph was interested in little things like that, and Etho appreciated that it at least meant he wasn’t bothering a very stressed out Xisuma about anything silly. Zedaph had no filter when it came to things he was curious about, and it was exhausting if you were the sole focus of his attention- or maybe that was just Etho.

Like being nervous. Which Etho was but he didn’t need anyone pointing it out.

Really what he needed was Bdubs blind confidence to put in his pocket and take with him, but that wasn’t an option. So instead he rescued Bdubs from where Pearl was gently and firmly drubbing him with her wings, and tucked him protectively under one of his own long arms. He smelled like dirt, and growth, and warm sweet fruit- all things that had Etho’s fox nose perking up and tucking itself in the sweaty edge of Bdubs’ hairline.

“Stop huffing me you rat - you got your bags?” Bdubs asked, batting not so gently at Etho’s face and making disgruntled noises.

“I got my bags.” Etho confirmed.

“You got your creds?”

“I got my creds.” Etho nodded, patting one of the pockets on his coat. Etho had… Many creds. When you’d been around as long as he had you tended to collect wealth against any will of your own, and it wasn’t like Etho spent it on anything. The only place you could really spend creds were on big Hub Worlds like Hypixel, or Central- and Etho didn’t really venture outside of Hermitcraft all that often so they tended to stack up. The few times he’d been off server where he could actually spend, it had mostly been buying pretzels and trinkets for the other Hermits; letting Gem and Cleo tug him around to clothing stores, or Doc and Tango pull him off to some sort of Redstone convention to buy some theoretical essays, or experimental parts.

Once upon a time, Etho was a lonely guy, on a lonely world, building a lonely home.

But. Things changed, eventually. He met some people- some players, who were nice, and funny, and kind of assholes half the time. He met Doc and Beef and Pause almost immediately after he learned the fact that you could leave your Home Server, and explore others.

Back then the void was a dangerous, tumultuous place, and the communicator on your wrist took up your arm all the way to your elbow in order to accommodate the dangerous equipment and programs necessary to travel through it. Etho had overheated his own multiple times while fiddling with the machinery, before he’d learned to leave it alone between respawns.

After all, there hadn’t really been too much of a point to comms before inter-server travel was available. Who would Etho talk to? He knew his own stats, so he didn’t need to see the death messages. It wasn’t until he dreamt through an entire night that Etho even had an inkling of what might be possible- using  the respawn mechanics of their world to tweak them just a little bit, and cause a message or a server command to amplify through the void. He’d had fun, sending little greetings, or coordinates, or even little bits of noteblock music singing between the nova bright glint of other Servers in the Void.

But the first time he got a ping? The first time Etho got a message, or an alert of a comm request?

It had been like someone throwing a life preserve to a drowning sailor. He’d been halfway through a stack of cave-spider eyes, letting the poison seep into his limbs and cause his vision to blur for lack of anything better to eat or interesting to do.

He could have distilled it, made a better poison to cause a loop of deaths that would at least make things interesting-

But he didn’t. He ate his spider eyes, and he built his caves, and his contraptions, and he dug through stone and sand and gravel and obsidian, and he raised towns and trees, and when the message from a ‘Guude’ came in asking if he even knew how to bounce between worlds yet-

Etho had hit ‘Accept’. And now that he had a reason, it turned out Etho could figure out Server travel too if he really tried.

Now it was many many years later, and he was here under the sun and the robins-egg blue vaulted sky on Hermitcraft, trying to keep Bdubs from sticking his dirt stained hands directly into Etho’s pockets to check for himself that Etho had remembered to pack his comb, or his sweet-berries.

“Etho has everything he needs Bdubs- and if he does not, I will convince him to use his massive amounts of money to buy what he needs.” Doc reassured, putting two huge hands up to engulf Bdubs shoulders, and gently move him away from where he’d been doing his best to do a clumsy full body inspection of Etho before they left.

“You better! I’m trusting you with him.” Bdubs warned, looking plaintively over at Etho as they were separated.

“Etho is a grown man.” Doc said, not for the first time in the past few weeks since Etho had shyly informed them he was going to actually participate in MCC. “He can take care of himself- that being said,'' He added, as Bdubs began to trill in anxiety, eyes large and starting to faintly glow with concern. “I will make sure that he eats a pretzel and takes a nap between rounds. Alright?”

“And I’ll make sure he’s safe as a bug in a rug while we compete- right Etho?” Scar threw an arm around Etho, grinning widely and smelling like sweet Jasmine soap, and Jellie, and the bitter tea he enjoyed drinking for builder aches and pains.

“Righty-o Scar. Today, I am your pupil.” Etho agreed, and he smiled faintly when he saw the note of sincerity in the way that Scar blushed, and tightened his grip where his arm was hooked around Etho.

“Aw, shucks Etho, I mean, pffft... Yeah I’ll show you what I know, but I think the main thing you need to remember is to just... Have fun.” Scar said firmly, determined.

“Yeah. And if you get less than twenty I’ll never let you forget it.” Beef said, from where he was waiting his turn to give Etho a firm hug. His hands were big, and warm, and he tweaked Etho’s ears and gave him a bristly, smacking farewell kiss on the cheek before he folded Etho into a hug. Etho felt warm (getting the full song and dance from Beef in front of everyone) but he wasn’t going to pass it up. “Remember, strafe, bounce, and keep your speed up on the turns, alright?” Beef grumbled, tucking his face into Etho’s neck so that Etho could do the same on the opposite side of Beef, burying himself in the smell of paper, and pepper, and ocean.

If he rubbed his chin a few times on Beef to make sure his own scent lingered, well. No one pointed it out, and it made Etho’s heart rate even out.

“I’m going to focus everything I have on not just wiping out on the course Beef- I’m not going to be taking any, fricking. Shortcuts.” Etho sighed, before pulling himself free.

Honestly, he had a pretty good plan for the race course if he did say so himself. Probably not the most effective, but would definitely be the most fun.

“Alright, everyone ready? Last call. I may be able to squeeze one more person in between the fire wall.” Xisuma called out, clapping his gloved hands together for attention. The Hermits turned towards him like sunflowers, and when there wasn’t a response his helmet tilted and his eyes brightened in a very cheerful way. “Well, in that case… Everyone wish Etho luck for his first MCC!”

As the Hermits who were going lined up, Etho felt his tail sway faintly again at the rising cheer and clap of the Hermits seeing them all off.

Maybe this would be kind of fun.

They stepped into Central. The first thing Etho really registered was the noise.

It had been a long time since he’d been to Central, and even then it hadn’t been during an official event. There were so many people that even just a quiet murmur would have been overwhelming, and this was a celebration.

People were yelling greetings, clapping hands, hugging- fireworks popped off in the near distance and Etho flinched before he could track where he was or where the sound was coming from, the cascading wave of gold and blue sparks causing an answering hiss and pop from Doc right behind him.

Grian of course heard the sound and repeated it with parrot-like precision, and then winced in apology when it pulled another flinch from Etho. He couldn’t help it most of the time- he heard a sound, he repeated it. Most of the time Etho found it funny, but at the moment his heart was beginning to pound fairly quickly. He tried not to look like a startled cat, but judging from the way Cub was disentangling Etho’s white knuckled grip off of his lab coat, he probably wasn’t successful.

“Oh, they’re celebrating early- if that’s how it’s gonna be this year, I can’t wait for the after party.” Scar grinned in delight, shading a hand over his eyes to look up at the fireworks. He was dressed in a new deep forest colored coat with a fur ruff of white fox fur, because he wanted to match Etho, and it was honestly a little embarrassing for all Etho felt touched by the gesture.

The spawn platform was positioned directly in the middle of MC Central, wreathed in intricately cut bushes and statuary and kiosks, their canvas awnings fluttering and snapping in the wind. Vendors were selling everything from hot buttery popcorn, to soft folded tacos full of tender meat, to plastic clicking necklaces with little animal charms that correspond to participating players. All of them clamored over each other to be heard by potential customers, and even as high in the sky over the Void as they were, the wind wasn’t enough to entirely disperse the wall of sound, or the distant strains of music carried on the gentle breeze.

The vendors were doing fantastic business, crowded in colorful clusters near the sturdy, transparent glass walkways that went weaving throughout Central and connecting the other floating isles. Some people even leaned far enough out to get pictures of the Void below with their comms, a friend holding on to their wing or shirt or arm despite the fact that there were transparent safety barriers everywhere.

Central was both more and less difficult to keep operating than a conventional Server, Etho knew. He’d studied the effects of the reality-load the same as any Redstoner; both as a theoretical exercise, and a practical form of simulated limit testing. It was more difficult to maintain, because of the sheer load of reality on it at any given time. Not only did you have to convince the Islands to exist outside of the Void (what any Admin was capable of on a standard vanilla server), but you also had to convince it to ignore conventional laws of reality. The sometimes reality bending competitive events didn’t help, nor did the huge load of Players every year.

It was also less difficult to keep, because it was only temporarily in use every year or so for events, and the rest of the time it was a fairly low-load Server for hub trade and travel, and not much else. They made up the difference by bringing in additional Mods and Admins to handle part of the workload during the peak seasons- but it took a certain kind of Player or Admin to be able to only temporarily tuck the seed of a server into your heart, and give it up again afterwards.

(Xisuma picked his up from Biffa once upon a Hermit history, but Etho didn’t think there would ever be anything to make the Voidwalker put it down again.)

Central floated high in the sky where the air wasn’t quite too thin to breathe, but sweet and clear as a mountain peak. Below the paved roads and walkways were nothing but trailing vines and spires of inverted rock hovering over the star-like Void, miles of floating islands surrounded by a perfect ring of horizon where the Void turned slowly blue.

There was another cascade of fireworks, and Doc finally reached up to cup his big hands to either side of Ethos’ ears before they could even finish clearing the spawning platform. They all shuffled together like that in one big group, hemmed in by Hermits and making room for whoever was arriving behind them. Audience or competitor’s alike. Doc smelled like gunpowder, and jungle, and the thick peat he kept his tendrils rooted in while he sat at his desk and overworked himself on blueprints and simulations. It made Etho think of long nights curled up in the same room, not speaking- sometimes for multiple nights in a row as they worked too hard and too fast, until someone like Beef, or Bdubs, or Mumbo knocked them out of orbit and made them take a break.

“Thanks.” He murmured, reaching behind him to tug on Doc’s coat fondly. Doc rumbled a creeper sound indistinguishable from the fireworks that were finally quieting down, and gave Ethos’ ears one last fond ruffle before letting go.

“Can’t have you running off before the competition even starts.”

“Whoof, no kidding. Alright, well. Have fun finding the rest of your team boys! Me and False are going to take a loop around and see who’s about.” Pearl cracked her back and flared her wings, giving a few practice flaps that had her and False jockeying for takeoff space, grins twitching around their mouths and eyes bright with excitement.

“I wanna see if Pete is down for a quick warmup round before the events start- we’re here for a few nights anyway, might as well see if he’s been practicing.” False said, eyes already searching for her team-mate through the sea of faces.

“I’ll see you later, then. I’m going to meet up with some people I’ve been meaning to catch up with- business associates.” Cub agreed easily, giving False a careless wave. They were lucky enough to team up together this year, and Etho had caught them practicing between and after Hermit meetings, or outside the Frost Citadel between Decked Out runs. How they managed, he didn’t know since he was so sore after his own runs that he often ended up bedding down in his cubby, rather than making the trek all the way back to his base- and Cub was second place in the standings, right on Etho’s tail the entirety of Decked Out. Where he got the energy, Etho had no idea.

Etho wasn’t exactly jealous of False and Cub teaming together , because although he had a small streak of competitiveness that drove him to dominate any sort of competition the Hermits introduced server wide, he knew his first competition at MCC would probably be… Competent at best.

But the thing was False and Cub both were very accomplished PVPer’s where Etho was middling at best, and rusty at worst. His main strength was in predicting where someone was going to go, which he was good at even against someone as chaotic and agile as Grian, or Gem. The problem was when he couldn’t keep up with the movements enough to take advantage of the fact, or in an environmental free-for-all like MCC tended to be.

He enjoyed puzzles though, and his distinctly fox-like nature made him particularly suited for scavenging or obstacle courses. The only other fox hybrids he’d known of who’d competed were a Player named Fundy, and another called ‘CPK’ or something. He wasn’t sure how it was spelled, and Scar said it all in one rush when he was talking about his previous MCC events. They were both supposedly good at dodging and eking out wins where being light and agile was a benefit.

Which made sense- Etho was also hard to pin down when he put his mind to it. It was when he had to turn around and attack back that things got complicated- especially against people like False, or Gem, or Grian. He didn’t like an even playing field.

All of this to say that Etho had brushed up on his Redstone basics, practiced his PVP with Gem, and gotten a lot of advice from Grian, who was much more similar to Etho when it came to all-around skill balance. Although Grian was an Avian and naturally suited for Rocket-Spleef or the race course, he also did surprisingly middling to best at combat, and famously had a laser-like focus when it came to defeating Dream and his cadre of anarchists.

No one was beating Technoblade of course, and Etho wouldn’t even begin to try. His best hope if the man had been competing this year would have been to keep clear, and pick off what was left like the carrion creature he was. False had told him over drinks before they left that it was what she did, often crossing paths with Philza or Grian high above the battlefield, circling like ravens after a calamity during Survival Games.

Which, when Techno was through, was often what it looked like. Nothing but blood-furrowed soil and the charnel smell of rough respawns, before enough players managed to grow brave and coordinated enough to take Technoblade out- gore streaking his tusks, and cloak dragging sodden along the ground with the blood that had failed to disappear with the fallen bodies of the competition.

Yeah. No thank you, Etho wasn’t as young as he used to be.

“I’m going to go see if I can find Scott. He has precious cargo today after all, and I need to make sure he’s up to the job.” Impulse announced firmly, once again causing Etho to roll his eyes. Pearl and False took off in a flurry of wings, a few people nearby giving shouts of cheer and surprise at the breeze they kicked up. They jostled together for a chaotic moment overhead, before peeling off to separate and join the strings of Players flying on wing and Elytra up above.

Which just left Etho, Scar, Grian, Xisuma, and Doc. Xisuma looked astonishingly relaxed with the crowd around them- probably at the prospect of not only having a small vacation, but also a vacation where he could keep an eye on Etho and Doc. Two of the three hermits most prone to breaking his server if left on supervised, the other being Mumbo.

(Tango was exempt only because he was a Mod, and better at not getting caught.)

“We could go check out some stuff before we go find our rooms- if you’re okay with that?” Scar asked, looking suddenly earnest towards Etho. His newfound sense of responsibility since him and Etho had found out they were teaming together had been… Honestly, pretty sweet.

Etho smiled behind his mask, eyes crinkling up. “Yeah Scar, I’m fine with that. Show me around, huh? Doc is way too boring when he’s giving tours, and I know you’re an old pro.” Besides, he could always go nap later.

“You know, I am!” Scar agreed in delight, grabbing onto Etho’s arm and shaking it companionably. Grian scoffed. “Stick with me Etho, we’re gonna wipe the floor with the competition-”

“I’d be happy with just, uh. Not fucking up.” Etho mumbled, as Scar dragged him off, the rest of them indulgently trailing along.

Chapter Text

Etho had no idea how…

Okay. Well, it felt silly to say, but. Popular? He was.

He thought maybe the eyes were part of his imagination; but after the third time Etho glanced at a Player and they hurriedly averted their eyes and Doc laughed, he realized that maybe people actually were staring at him.

“This is your fault for being a recluse.” Doc teased, unbothered by the attention. The man was almost seven feet tall and green- he was used to it. Etho, not so much.

They’d finally lost Xisuma to Noxite before Scar had even finished showing them the main island- the other Admin greeting Xisuma with a wave. The two didn’t wander too far, but the speed of Scar’s sweeping tour meant that they were quickly lost from sight as the group went through the floating islands.

“I’m not a recluse , I just… I value my privacy. ” Etho complained, feeling slightly clammy from nerves. He was starting to regret agreeing to the tour, even as Scar cheerfully pointed out the structures, the different types of islands, the small games that were tucked away for spectators to play while they waited for the event to start. He was forging at the head of the group, gesturing widely enough that some passersby were forced to duck.

The entire area smelled of food, people, perfume, and the gunpowder smell of fireworks without the mellow spice of ‘ Doc’ that Etho associated it with. The smoke was almost invisible for all its astringent smell made Etho’s mouth sour behind his mask, drifting down from the fireworks that the non-flying players used with their Elytra. Sometimes the Players over their heads even looped a couple times, and Etho could almost fool himself into thinking they were just there to see Xisuma- another rare sight off the Hermitcraft Server.

“This is great.” Doc grumbled with sunny enjoyment, as he purposefully moved away to prevent Etho from hiding behind him. Doc was wall when he chose to be, which was very funny when he was being a nurturing bundle of vines and fatherly instinct- and not so funny when he wasn’t letting Etho crawl under his lab coat and hide. “You know, I thought you’d want to say ‘Hi ,’ to some people.” He teased, as Scar pulled ahead slightly to greet a Player called Jojo.

Supposedly they were making their way to the commissary area to get some lunch. Etho suspected they were taking the most roundabout way to get there though, as Scar greeted every single person between here and there with all the intimacy of them being his very closest friend.

Scar was just like that.

Etho was trying to look cool and nonchalant as they wandered, and also like he wasn’t about three minutes from locking himself in a closet. He was trying to pretend he couldn't feel people watching him, or didn't notice the way someone snapped a picture with their comm- flinching a bit at a flash and the apologetic grimace the person gave like they'd known it was rude, but couldn't help themselves. It was surprisingly hard to pretend, especially when there was a gangly, fluffy looking goat hybrid tucked behind some statuary nearby staring intently at him and the other gathered Hermits.

“I uh, do! You know me, love saying hi, love uh. Talking.” Etho lied, tucked back as flat to Doc’s side as he could get away with, as they finally approached a small table in the open-aired commissary area. Etho collapsed with relief, putting his back to the wall only so he could watch the door. He was grateful when Doc scooted right up by him, his bulk comforting, and Grian spun a chair around to face the room and keep an eye out for friends. “I’m just uh, working my way up to it. Ya know- being polite…”

There weren’t a huge amount of food selections, but there were free meals for the competitors, and it seemed to do a good job of signaling to visitors and fans that the people inside there weren’t eager to sign autographs, or say hello. A small reprieve from staring and the pictures, although the goat kid had followed them in at what he probably thought was a subtle distance. Probably a competitor too then. Etho started flipping through the touchscreen menu, brow furrowed as he looked at what was for lunch. ‘ Taco Tuesday’ was apparently a thing- although if you put him on the spot he would never have been able to tell you what day of the week it was even on Hermitcraft, let alone here.

“You have to say hello to someone- what if your fans think you don’t like them?” Grian asked, tucking his chin on his hand and grinning at the way Etho shifted uncomfortably, keeping his eyes fixed on the menu and hunching his shoulders.

“I don’t- I don’t have fans, ” Etho protested, but he was interrupted by Doc making a loud guttural cough.

“Etho, you have so many fans dude. Look,” Doc turned and waved at the staring goat-kid, who yelped and fell backwards when he realized he was spotted. Etho saw now that he had a friend with him, who wasn't even remotely trying to hide and looking delighted at the entire situation. The other kid (a magpie hybrid with hair just a shade darker than blonde, and a red and white shirt two sizes too big) started cackling to fit his wings.

It was only a moment for the avian to tug his friend up out of the bush and start whispering intently in the smaller boy's ear, mouth stretched into a wide grin and almost shoving the two of them over to where Etho was frozen in anxiety, and an amused Doc was still gesturing them over.

“Here, see Etho, this is not so scary- hello, yes, come, come…” Doc leaned forward in that weirdly friendly way he had, elbows on his knees and foot moving casually to block Etho in case he tried to escape under the table and out the commissary area. He looked like a science teacher with a criminal record. “You wanted to say ‘hello’, yes? To my friend here?”

The goat hybrid was skinny, face mottled across his right half with scarred, white-shiny burns and big blue eyes that were frozen wide with fear. He had two smallish horns, just barely clearing his fluffy almost white-blonde hair, and the same floppy ears most sheep and goat hybrids had. It reminded Etho fondly of Zedaph, who was a little fluffier, and- well. Cuter than Doc was, with his impressive curled horns, and habit of unconsciously posturing all six foot five of himself whenever one of the predator Hermits were nearby.

(Tango, Ren, False- Etho which was a bit of a joke - )

Doc was a scary sight for most, all creeper-patterned green with his curled rams horns and wide shoulders. The cybernetics didn't help, and most people didn't really know what to make of him when they met him, the confusing mix of metal and goat and Creeper causing most instincts to go haywire. But right now Doc only looked fond, his Papa-goat instincts probably kicking in at the sight of big blue eyes and fluff, and Etho thought he could see the goat kid relaxing instinctively. Doc was such a sucker.

“Yeah, Tubbo here is Etho’s biggest fan, I read it in his diary -” The magpie kid cackled, and Tubbo started squeaking indignantly.

“Tom, oh my god, shut the fuck up-”

“Language,” Grian admonished lightly, grinning. “Hey boys.”

“Hey Grian,” “Hey Groin- ” The two chorused obediently, causing Grian to leap to his feet and buffet his wings at Tommy in protest. The noise of his indignant squawking and Tommy’s wild laughter caused a few people to look their way, and Etho was hard pressed not to slink under the table.

Grian was yanking on Tommy’s wings, gently, and keeping him from fleeing while he scolded. There were an awful lot of bird sounds involved, and Etho grinned faintly behind his mask in amusement. “ Every year, I am so nice to you, and you are such a- such a- ”

“Little shit?” Asked Doc in amusement, as Tommy started laughing too hard to hold himself up, he and Grian lost in a flurry of feathers.

“Yes!” Grian yelled. “Etho, this is Tommy and Tubbo - they are very talented, but a right pain in my arse.” Grian huffed, finally letting a still cackling Tommy crawl free from under his wings, hair mussed and neck of his shirt stretched out even more than it had been previously.

“Nice to meet you.” Etho said honestly, tilting his head a bit at the way Tubbo buried his face in his hands, shoulders cranked up around his shoulders. “You. Uh, know me?”

“NO! I mean, yes, I know you- I know of you that is. Which, uh- fuck. ”

“Tubbo loves you , he wants to kiss you- ” Tommy started sing-songing, still on the floor. He started choking as Tubbo threw himself at him, and started to furiously punch him in the middle with little leverage or effect. They almost knocked the table over in the scuffle, and Etho reached a startled hand out to steady it. Even Grian fell backwards, faintly grinning and wings flaring for balance as he caught himself on a loose chair and avoided stepping on either of the kids.

“Whoah! Okay, well, this is going great-” Doc said cheerfully, standing and moving forward to grab each of the boys by the scruff of the neck and separate them. When Doc stood up straight and gave them a little jostle (Tubbo had his teeth around Tommy’s arm) their feet dangled an easy foot off the ground. “Alright, enough, enough- ”

“Oh. You’re a fan, huh?” Etho said in the ensuing silence, amused now by how flushed Tubbo had become. Etho was awkward, not dead, and it was nice to get recognized by such a funny kid. “What, did you read my book?”

“Yes!” Tubbo burst out, seemingly not minding that Doc still had him dangling. “I’ve read it about five times, and, um, Doc sir your book is alright too but. Um.”

“No no, I agree, it isn’t as accessible as Etho’s.” Doc said cheerfully, finally setting both boys on their feet. Tommy looked riled up and ready to start fighting again for the sheer joy of it, before Grian hooked a claw in the back of the boy’s shirt between his wings and yanked him down into a chair. “It is one of my favorites as well.”

Etho hesitantly looked at Doc’s encouraging face, and then down at the wide eyed stare Tubbo was giving him. It almost looked adoring, but to Etho it was borderline panicked. He was worried the kid was going to have a heart attack , but since his magpie friend was ordering a large amount of food on their table’s touchscreen (presumably on Etho’s dime, which was fine honestly), he thought this might be a pretty normal reaction. “Do… You want me to uh.” God this was pretentious. “Sign something?”

“ I didn’t bring my book. ” Tubbo whispered, like he had just been told a favorite pet had died.

“Aw, kid - here.” Etho pulled out his Ender Chest, putting it under the table and out of the way while he went elbow deep to sort through the shulkers. After a moment he found the cream colored one and moved it down to activate, the top spinning off and revealing neatly stacked papers, books, and writing supplies all piled in until they were brushing the top lip of the container. There were a few lamps and glass panes included as well, safely cushioned between paper and soft leather books. Luckily shulkers didn’t take too much of a beating in his Ender Chest, or Etho would be sorting through broken glass.

Etho found what he was looking for, and pulled out one of the copies of his book he kept in reserve. He always had ten or so copies on him in case another Redstoner wanted to trade, or he needed to reference something- or he needed scrap paper. The binding was still new and stiff, but the pages were even, and the ‘ Etho’s Lab’ across the cover was a deep shiny green the same shade as the light of an Ender Chest.

“Here.” He flipped it open and scribbled a quick little ‘ Etho!’ on the inside cover, his ears burning in embarrassment as Grian and Doc both snickered. But Tubbo looked so excited that his ears were wiggling, so Etho tried not to let it show. He added on a little, ‘ For Tubbo! Good Luck at MCC!’ and the kid made a sound like he was dying.

“Oh my gosh Mister Lab sir, thank you- ”

Etho threw Doc a warning look before he could say something (such as a disbelieving ‘ Mister Lab’ ), but it was a moot point as Tommy burst into cackles.

“Oh my god he’s gonna be sleeping with that under his pillow for a year Mister Lab-”

“Tom, I AM NOT KIDDING, I am going to murder YOU-” Tubbo almost shrieked, and Doc was forced to step between the two of them again with an exasperated look. Tommy bounced off of Doc, and Tubbo was forced to start clambering over a chair to get at his friend, swearing profusely.

Scar finally came over from his gossiping, looking over in bemusement at Doc separating Tommy and Tubbo. “Oh. Fans?”

“Kind of.” Etho mumbled uncomfortably, shrugging and packing his shulker back into the chest where it was supposed to go. “I think I’m uh. Done touring for the moment.”

“Well that’s no problem! We can eat here and then go find our rooms- Scott and Shane should be over there now, and you are going to looo-ove their outfits.” Scar spread his hands like a magician, grinning sharp toothed and vex-like at Etho.

Etho sighed. “Can’t wait.”

The dorms were quiet and spacious, smelling of clean wood and linens and the gentle lemon of the hybrid friendly cleaner the MCC staff used. It was mostly spruce and terracotta, rugs across the floor and all four of the beds large enough for two to share comfortably.

Their suite was split in half to room four with a cozy common area, and Scar and Etho had wordlessly put their bags together in the west room after greeting Scott and Shane. Shane would probably have his room mostly to himself, since Scott was going to be busy during the event, although he'd been very modest about it.

Etho gave a very foxlike jump into his own bed, rolling midair to land on his back and let the covers collapse around him like a feather-down avalanche. The interiors were decorated nicely, with patterned rugs and warm colored walls- the flooring was polished where the wool didn’t cover, and the walls interspersed with accents of brick and terracotta. Nothing could hold a candle to a Hermit build, nothing- but even Etho had to admit that they did a pretty good job with the rooms. He reached out to tap a claw on the leaf of a nice little potted plant on his bedside, the leaf a healthy bouncing green and soil still a little damp where housekeeping had probably given it a little drink.

“I could get used to this- they deliver food as well you said?” Etho asked Scar, thoughtfully, as he swum his limbs through the bedding like he was testing the possibility of snow angels.

Scar sat much more calmly on his own bed, toeing his boots off with a groan and flopping backwards. He’d started flagging around when they got to their lodgings, and he and Etho had barely given Scott and Shane their greetings before heading to their shared room. Scar was social, but they’d spent the past couple hours doing nothing but talk to people. Well. Scar talked to people while Etho tried to climb the walls and burrow under Doc’s coat. Even Scar had a limit though, and he looked as if he’d reached it. “You are absolutely correct- anything your little Canadian heart desires.”

“Rotten flesh.”

“... Almost anything your little Canadian heart desires.” Scar reached up and scrubbed at his face, before tilting his head sideways to look at Etho with a grin. “So what do you think so far? Fun, right? We got a really good team this year too. Shane and Scott are great, Shane is- like, amayzing at this, and Scott is of course one of the event coordinators-”

“I got that vibe.” Etho hummed consideringly. He’d never met Shane before ( ‘Firebreathman’ , which disappointingly was an insane moniker that apparently had nothing to do with his ability to breath fire ), but the man had dark hair and a quiet friendly demeanor that immediately set Etho at ease. He reminded him of Hypno a little bit; slightly dry, but with a quiet confidence.

He also had impressive sword calluses on the heels of his fingers when Etho had shaken his hand, arms roped with lean muscle where his casual shirt was rolled up at the sleeves. There were small scars repeated across his knuckles and arms, and one delicately tracing a line on his jaw that looked like it might have been from something a little more substantial than a sword. An axe, perhaps.

He’d said he was a teacher mostly, which was all lucky for Etho. Or maybe not ‘ lucky ’ so much, since when he’d looked over at Scott the man had a very smug look on his face.

Scott, who’d approached Etho about playing in the first place. Apparently it was a point of contention in the MCC circuit on whether Etho would ever play or not, which Etho hadn’t even known until Scott had confidently sauntered up to him after one of Grian’s Death Games and invited him to participate.

Scott with his seafoam green hair and circlet of glamored stars, that changed in the Death Games according to how many lives he had, or how he felt. Red and sullen, or a glimmering gold-light yellow. Etho was comfortable with fey glamors after living on servers with Scar for so long, but even he had been impressed by the casual confidence Scott could wield fey magic. It probably lent itself well to server administration, albeit in a different way than Xisuma's void magic did.

Etho had never been asked about the games. He hadn’t had to think long before he said yes, because he trusted Scott well enough and the other Hermits who had participated seemed to have fun Etho loved games, and there was no better way to get him to leave Hermitcraft or his personal world than to lure him with the promise of some challenge, or dungeon, or treasure.

The teams were supposed to be randomized, but again Etho suspected there was a reason his team was with Scar (a disarmingly friendly Hermit who Etho had known for years), Shane (who trained competitors), and Scott, who had invited him in the first place and had the ear of the Admin and mods.

Etho met Scar’s green eyes thoughtfully. “I think… That I want to sleep.” Etho was still tense and uncertain, public attention making his nerves jangle discordantly in combination with his normal pre-competition jitters. But he was still having fun, he thought. Seeing people from so many different servers, and hanging out with Scar and the other Hermits… It would be a nice change of pace.

That Tubbo kid had probably been a fluke anyway, it wasn’t like Etho was going to get bombarded with people- there was no way he was that famous.

Satisfied, he got ready for bed in companionable silence with Scar, unpacking their shulkers from the Ender Chest located between their bunks, and letting Jellie in where she was impatiently waiting outside in the hallway.

How she’d gotten here, Etho had no idea, because she certainly hadn’t been with them when they arrived. But Scar didn’t seem surprised, and neither did Scott. So Etho just gave her a friendly scratch behind the ear when she meowed imperiously at him, and finished unpacking.

As soon as he was finished he laid down in his bed, burrowing under the covers and spinning a few times before the exhaustion of the day caught up with him, and Etho didn’t even hear Scar get into bed before he was asleep.