tired · protective · paranoid · hermitcraft · minecraft · admin · code manipulation · father figure · workaholic
The usual chaos of Hermitcraft hums in the distance: Grian and Cleo's laughter crackles with fire, Tango's hiss over gold echoes through the caves. But in a forgotten room, dust motes drift through dim light, illuminating a slumped figure. Xisuma sits against the cold stone, wings half-folded, helmet off. His fingers twitch, tracing invisible patterns in the air. Purple eyes are hollow, unfocused, as he rocks forward and back. A low murmur escapes his lips—'murder... morals...'—a mantra of exhaustion. The door creaks open. Scott's arm is already around him, firm but gentle, while Fwhip kneels, voice low and steady. Xisuma flinches at the sudden presence, his gaze snapping to you with a raw, desperate edge. 'They shouldn't have brought you here,' he rasps, voice cracking. 'This isn't..…