Majorwood - Blog Posts

VOTE MAJORWOOD FOR MCYT ART!!!

HI!

Scott felt tremors in his body. Particles flitted around him like tiny fireflies at night, their tiny lights cast onto his body. The rings of energy on his arms emitted a low hum that filled the silence.

He took a deep breath.

The particles exploded around him, a swirling vortex of blue and orange. Scott's body slowly dissipated, breaking apart into a flurry of the particles that always clung to him. It was never a painful sensation, only slightly tingly. Sometimes there'd be an ache that spread through his limbs, but mostly it was okay. Probably would just take some...getting used to.

He reappeared back at home. From where he stood, Scott could faintly see some of the crops in his farm were nearly fully grown, and a content smile curled at his lips. Like the others, he was starting with nothing and building up from there.

Someone ran towards him. A familiar someone. Someone dressed in a thick and warm blue coat with a fur-lined hood. Someone with blond hair and bright cornflower blue eyes. A grin curled at their lips as they approached.

"Scott!"

"Hi Martyn," Scott replied. "How are you?"

"Good, good." A pregnant pause settled over the two of them.

"Wanna help me farm? I could do with an extra pair of hands." Scott gestured at the farm loosely, mostly focused on Martyn's expression.

"Sure! Happy to help."

The two of them jumped over the (admittedly quite low) fence surrounding the farm. Hefting a hoe over his shoulders, Scott strode towards the cabbages and started from there. In his peripheral vision, he spotted Martyn over near the tomatoes.

As crops were harvested and seeds were planted, Scott's eyes kept drifting over to Martyn. Something about him felt familiar.

Scott resurfaced, water beaded across his skin. His clothes were soaked, his hair too, but he couldn't bring it in himself to care. A man sat on the edge of an island, legs dangling over the edge and kicking rhythmically in the water. Scott swam over, his gills fanning out and tail swishing in mischievous mirth as he wrapped his hand around the man's ankle and yanked him into the water.

"Scott!" The man spluttered, coughing up water. Scott grinned in response and wrapped his arms around the man with an airy laugh.

"Sorry, I couldn't resist," He looked up at the man's eyes. His reflection stared back. Scott's hand cupped the man's cheek. Both struggled to remain afloat; their legs kicked relentlessly, but got tangled together too often for both to continue to stay above the water's surface.

Scott swam over to the island and clambered back onto solid ground, the man in tow behind him. When both were on the island, Scott's arms were wrapped around his neck, the man's wrapped around his waist. The two let out a satisfied sigh. After a few moments, their lips pressed together for a second, and parted as soon as they'd come together.

Scott swung his hoe again. It swept the cabbages up quickly, and he scooped them up from the ground and into his inventory. Hastily replanting the seeds, he glanced over at Martyn. He seemed done with the tomatoes, and was already halfway through the potatoes. Scott went to join him.

"You okay? You seem tired." Martyn said, ever observant.

"I'm fine. Besides it's not nighttime yet."

"Did you sleep?" Scott nodded. "Okay. Good. Well, maybe we could take a break. I've not been inside your house yet. Maybe you can give me a tour?"

"Okay. Follow me." Scott put the hoe back in his inventory. The two of them jumped back over the fence and walked around to Scott's door.

Their footsteps came to a halt simultaneously. Scott's hand pushed the door open, and they both stepped inside.

"So...nice house," Martyn remarked within seconds. "It looks nice."

Scott hummed in response. "Thanks."

He took another look at Martyn. There was something familiar about him, but he couldn't quite place it yet. It was like the feeling he often got with Jimmy, only he'd think about hobbit houses, flower crowns and a pufferfish with a misspelt name.

Martyn was like the sea air, coral and loyalty. Like warmth, protection and joy. But that couldn't be true. The Martyn Scott knew was cold, but jovial. He froze, not warmed. He didn't supply comfort on a lonely night riddled with nightmares of explosions, arrows piercing his body or lightning ripping through him. He was the mountains surrounding his kingdom, the ice he could control and rip through houses with. Martyn wasn't the kindness of a flower field or the brightness of a town bursting with cuddly llamas and colours. He was the snow you made snowmen with, the snowstorms you hid from in your home with a blanket and a cup of hot cocoa.

Scott was shaken from his thoughts as Martyn handed him cooked pork and sat with him to eat. He smiled, taking a bite into the food and smiling at the warmth filling his mouth. Martyn, freezer, bringer of the cold and a being of ice, had been able to bring Scott warmth indirectly.

Martyn laughed at nothing in particular. Scott laughed with him.

Hours To Give

The words took a moment to set in.

Martyn was 25 minutes away from becoming a Red. He was about to become bloodthirsty. Murderous. Hungry for death, no matter who it was that perished. Martyn would crave whatever blood he could get on his hands.

Scott felt a shiver run up his spine. A jolt of fear. His body shook. His fellow Mean Gill, his ally, his best friend, his lover-

What?

No, they weren't like that. Scott and Martyn weren't like that.

He looked up at Martyn, his friend swinging his pickaxe down on stone. Sweat beading down his skin. Scott was not staring. But he couldn't help it. Martyn would become a Red soon.

"Martyn," Scott said his friend's name with as much courage as he was able to muster. "Look at me." Martyn stopped, dropping his pickaxe. The stone he'd just mined lay on the floor. Martyn approached him slowly. Scott could already see the slightest of red in his friend's eyes. The beginning of bloodlust was already there.

"What is it?" Martyn was very close now. The two were practically pressed up against each other. Martyn's hands were on both of Scott's shoulders.

"I-I-" Scott swallowed nervously.

There was something he wanted to say. So many things. So many confessions that it would probably take the rest of his time to admit to them all.

"Take your time," Martyn's voice was smooth and comforting, in an almost loving gentleness. A kind of gentleness Scott had only felt last around Jimmy in Third Life, or his platonic not-soulmate Cleo in Double Life. "We have plenty of it."

"That's the thing," Scott answered quickly. His body shuddered involuntarily. The words were on the tip of his tongue. It wasn't like there were many to speak. Quite the contrary. If anything those words were too few to properly express what he wanted to say. But those were the words he had to say. "Martyn, I want you to trust me here. Okay? Trust me. And I need you to listen. Don't immediately shoot it down."

"Okay..."

"Kill me."

"What." Martyn's eyes were blown wide. His lips were parted in an 'o' and his body twitched. Another sign of being Red; you couldn't stand still withoout wanting to kill.

"I want you. To kill me."

"N-no, I-I get that. But why?"

"Because! You're almost Red, Martyn! And after that, then what? Time will tick. And next time you won't come back. Next time you'll be dead. I can't live without you. I need you here. You cannot die. And if that means I lose half an hour then that's fine." Scott had already reached into his inventory to grab a sword. It wasn't his go-to sword for this, but it would do. Tears bubbled in his eyes. His scales itched and the coral on his body rubbed against his skin harshly.

"Scott, I-" Martyn took a deep breath. "I don't want to kill you. Not again. We already had to do this when you were on green. I can't kill you a second time."

"Martyn, please. Just do it!" Scott felt tears rolling down his cheeks as he thrust the sword into Martyn's hands. He threw his arms wide and waited. He could tell his friend was tempted. The premature desire to kill was there. Scott was just hoping Martyn would listen to it and take the extra time. Martyn needed it more.

Martyn stared down at the sword. Scott tried to smile through his tears as best he could. Martyn's lip trembled and tears pricked his eyes, too. Now they were both crying, but for different reasons.

Red Winter was back. Martyn could only think of him killing Ren. His king. And him killing Scott during the Hunt. Neither of his memories were very highly treasured for being wonderful. Those were probably the worst experiences of his life. Because Boogeyman kills were one thing. So were Red kills. Or even Yellow kills.

Killing one you cared for, per their request, was something very different.

"I can't do it," Martyn admitted. "Scott, I can't do it!" He dropped the sword, ignoring the clatter it made as it hit the floor. Martyn fought against the bubbling bloodthirst. He wasn't Red yet. He could restrain himself.

"Just do it. Take a half-hour."

"No. I won't." And Martyn wrapped his arms around Scott. Scott buried his face in the crook of Martyn's neck, and Martyn rested his chin on Scott's shoulder. Tears stained their clothes.

And so did blood.

Scott looked down.

The sword had been plunged into his chest.

Martyn's sword.

"Thank you." Scott smiled, and pressed a kiss against Martyn's neck.

His heart stopped beating.

Martyn's body shuddered, and he fell to his knees, crying harder than before.

He had to stop getting into these situations.

Fishy Friendships

Scott hated his scales.

Yes, he was surrounded by the sea. Yes, he lived on an island. Yes he had coral in his hair and clinging to his clothes. And yes, he was part of a duo called Mean Gills. All of those things are very fish related, but that didn't mean he wanted to become a fish!

He couldn't change it now, though. He'd fallen to sixteen hours. He'd become a yellow life.

And for some reason, that meant scales were now appropriate.

Staring at his reflection in the sea, Scott ran his hand through the water to disrupt the offending image shown by the water. Glistening blue scales slowly creeping in on his face. They stayed near his forehead, but also went down the side of his head. Luckily his hair could cover most of them, but he would always see them.

His chest ached for reasons he couldn't explain.

He wanted to go swimming. He yearned to swim. For no apparent reason.

Taking a deep breath, Scott dived underwater.

He remembered dying. He was swimming, swimming as fast as he could, desperate to get away. Jimmy was hot on his trail. If he didn't act fast, Scott knew he would die. So he kept swimming. He swam and swam and swam. His lungs burned. Every muscle in his body screamed in pain. Martyn was close, too. Scott reached out for him, calling out Martyn's name, but all that came out was a garbled mess. Water flew into his lungs. Scott begged Martyn to kill him. He'd watched, helpless, as Martyn and Jimmy fought, shoving, kicking, elbowing each other, all whilst trying to kill him. Scott remembered how both Jimmy and Martyn had called out for him for different reasons. He felt the sword plunge into his heart. He felt it as his time as a green life was gone.

And suddenly Scott was panicking. Flailing in the water, his garbled screams could be heard all the way from the Bad Boys' mansion.

Someone dived into the water. One, no, two people had dived in. Scott couldn't tell who they were. They both looked too similar to each other. Maybe they were just one person. He couldn't tell.

He was being lifted up. Scott let them, no longer screaming in fear. The two people slowly swam up. He was getting closer and closer to breathing properly. Scott didn't even mind the water now. Even though he'd felt nothing but fear moments earlier. God he was a mess right now.

"Scott? Scott! Can you hear me?" He recognised one voice as Martyn's, but it was hard to make out the words. They all seemed to slur and mix, creating a weird linguistic concoction of nonsense.

"Scott, please. L-look at me. I'm sorry. Okay? I-i-if that helps, I'm s-sorry. Just-...please. Look at us, damnit!" Another voice cried out. This one was familiar too, but Scott couldn't place it.

His vision began to clear up.

Standing over him were Martyn and Jimmy.

"Please. Please just...acknowledge you can hear us. I-I need to know if you're alive. Your pulse is weird and-" Martyn's voice got caught in his throat.

Scott groaned. He tried to sit up, but Jimmy's gentle hands guided him back down. "H-hi," Scott offered weakly. Tears bubbled in Jimmy's eyes, and he hugged Scott tightly. Martyn was crying too, but instead was holding Scott's hand, squeezing it every few seconds.

No one moved for a while. Although Scott had recovered now, neither one of the men currently with him moved an inch. He resigned himself to watching the waves lap up at the edges of the Coral Isles. Night had crept up into the sky by now. He could hear the worried shouts of Grian and Joel off in the distance.

Reluctantly, Scott managed to crawl out of Jimmy's vice-like grip and just-...laid there. Not like there was much else to do. When he saw Joel and Grian, he gestured down to Jimmy with a simple thumbs-up directed towards them. The remainder of the Bad Boys visibly relaxed. The two dived into the sea with a faint splash and swam over at a slow pace. Scott knew they weren't slow swimmers. But it was excusable.

Jimmy had fallen asleep. With a nudge, he groggily blinked sleep out of his eyes and looked up at Scott.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out in an instant. "I'm sorry for trying to kill you and- and doing that, but I-I'm scared, I don't wanna die and we don't get a choice and-"

"It's...okay." Scott said in response. He didn't necessarily feel okay, but he could. He could learn to. For now, he'd just pretend.

"Timmy!" Grian clambered onto the island and tackled Jimmy with a hug. Joel followed soon after, slinging his arms around both of their shoulders. "Are you okay? You were gone for ages and we were worried but no death message appeared so-" Grian took a breath. "Sorry. I'm just worked up. Can we go home now?"

"Yeah, I'm exhausted after having to deal with Grian. Don't scare us like that again." Joel said in a playful tone. But it was clear to everyone that it was only there to maintain an act of confidence. In Joel's own, weird way, of course.

Jimmy looked to Scott for permission. He nodded, and Jimmy smiled at the others. As the Bad Boys left the Coral Isles, Jimmy dropped something on the ground.

"Wait, you-" Scott was about to tell him, but Jimmy smiled and shook his head. The Bad Boys disappeared.

Scott knelt down to pick up the item Jimmy dropped.

A poppy.

"You alright?" Martyn glanced up at Scott. He'd almost forgottten about his fellow Mean Gill!

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Is that-"

"Mm-hmm." Scott showed Martyn the poppy. "But, I don't know what it means anymore. So..." Scott walked to the edge of the Coral Isles. Memories flashed up in his mind, memories of him and Jimmy in the first of the Life Games spent together. Each one was closely tied to the poppy and the Pufferish of Peace. But since Jimmy lost the pufferish, Scott was going to lose the poppy.

"Are you sure?" Martyn hurriedly asked.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Scott threw the poppy into the sea.

"My place is with you. Here. On the Coral Isles. Not with him anymore." Scott smiled at Martyn and held out his hand. Martyn took it without hesitation.

It felt nice having a friend.

I am still stuck in the coral isles ಥ_ಥ

Mermay 01 - Mean gills <3