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Mornings spent on the Last Life server were… something. So much happened over the course of the game that they could be spent in relative comfort or the sunrises could be watched with eyes veiled with wariness, knowing that cover could soon be blown. Tango would much rather be home, where the mornings might be faced with the wired tension of a night filled with redstone and caffeine, but at least they were calm. They felt safe. Here, nothing was safe anymore.
It was early morning when Tango slipped away from the team, leaving the rest of BEST back at the castle. He wasn’t sure what the point of building that rocktopus was if nobody was going to use it, not even himself. No self-respecting blazeborn would set up shop in a snow castle, but Tango never claimed to be wise. Especially after everything that had happened recently. Even more so considering what he was about to do.
The world was quiet. He assumed people were still sleeping, or at least lying low. The sun was just barely starting to peak over the horizon line, so the world was awash in a misty blue that transformed into a fire of orange and gold depending on the interplay of shapes and shadows. It highlighted his destination: the tall, imposing mountain ahead of him, with its familiar hut perched on the very top. No longer dirt, of course. The curling roof held a whimsy that Tango could only ever associate with Scar, and despite everything, it struck a cord of fondness deep in his chest.
Tango’s feelings were rather jumbled considering the wizard. Back on their home server, Scar was always a friend. A chaotic friend, for sure, but a friend nonetheless. But here, Scar was dangerous. He was a liar. He’d threatened to destroy their base multiple times and Tango didn’t doubt that he’d follow through with it if he hadn’t been stopped.
Tango, give him a life!
DO IT FOR YOUR BROTHERS!
Tango got to the base and started the climb, appreciating how the exertion forced the chill from his bones that the snow castle had seemed to permanently instill in him. When the rising sun started to beat down on him it was even better, the heat lending him strength, little flickers of flame dancing along his hair and tail at the sensation.
He’d try to keep that under wraps when he met with Scar; he didn’t need to give the wizard any other ideas.
He wasn’t sure why he was meeting with him. It hadn’t been planned, Scar didn’t know, but it was a need. It plagued him through the whole night while he laid, curled up under all his blankets but still so cold, in his bed now located further away from the others. He’d pictured the wizard’s crimson eyes as he grinned up at them from outside the castle… and he’d remembered how they’d been green not so long ago.
Maybe that was why he was here. Because Scar was the only person on this server who understood a thing or two about starting with so much life and getting it all stripped away. Maybe even more so. And that was a link that couldn’t be denied, even if Tango wasn’t quite sure what it meant or how to deal with it.
The sight of the door coming into view snapped Tango out of his musings, a sickly tang of bile touched the back of his tongue as fear churned in his stomach. This was stupid, this was so stupid, being here without backup or without even a witness . Tango was not a fighter, hard as he tried; Scar could kill him easily and then that would be it. But even still…
Tango swallowed, thankful once again that netherborns like himself didn’t sweat because his palms would be disgusting , and knocked on the door.
He couldn’t help but crack a smile when there was a startled yelp from inside, but the smile faded when footsteps started heading this direction. Against his will he felt his claws start to partially unsheath and he pushed them back, folding his hands behind him and curling them into fists. He wasn’t able to quite stop his tail from lashing, betraying his anxiety.
The door opened slowly, hesitantly, and Scar’s eyes - sunflower yellow - peered back out at him. They widened in shock, and Tango felt his whole body freeze when Scar also went stiff, and the two of them just stared at each other through the crack of the door.
Scar found his voice first. “T-Tango!” He stammered. He quickly pivoted, the mask sliding up, and Tango watched in real time as Scar forced himself into the charismatic persona he carried around with him like one of those crystals. “Hello there! Here to do some early morning shopping?”
The words were light, but the look was anything but. Scar was looking at him like Tango was an explosive ready to blow and frankly, Tango didn’t blame him. He felt like that a lot these days.
“I’m… not.” Tango said hesitantly, and a lot of the light abruptly disappeared from behind Scar’s eyes. The smile never changed, though. “Well, come in anyway! Maybe I can tempt you.” Scar winked, and it felt wrong. Everything about this felt wrong.
Tango slowly stepped forward, very conscious of the much larger, much stronger hermit to his left as the wizard held the door open. Scar could kill him where he stood, and Tango didn’t have many lives left to spare.
What would the rest of the team say? He couldn’t help but scowl to himself; they’d probably just be upset that he couldn’t be used as a life dispenser anymore. Void forbid anyone else donate any of their lives.
“That’s a scary face.” Scar remarked, and when Tango turned he looked rather wary. “You didn’t come here just to burn my shop down, did you?”
“No, that’s your job.” Tango couldn’t help but snark, but he felt a little guilty when he saw Scar flinch back. That wasn’t why he was here. He wasn’t trying to pick a fight, he just… he just…
“Why aren’t you angry?” Came the words he’d been searching for. The question that had driven him here.
Scar frowned, “Because you’re here? Or because you’re not buying anything?”
“No, that’s not-“ Tango sighed, grabbing his tail-tip and fiddling with the warm plume at the end of it. “You started off with six lives, same as me. Now you’re on yellow. Why aren’t you angry ? I know you didn’t lose all those just by yourself.”
Scar’s expression went blank, and he slowly leaned against the wall behind him. It occurred to Tango that they were posted on opposite sides of the room, the floor between them painted rainbow by the crystalline vials Scar had strung up for decoration. Like two predators, circling, but more uncertain than looking for a fight.
When Scar didn’t answer, Tango found that there were more words, more questions, and his heart started to beat faster, hotter. “Cause I’m mad, Scar. I’m angry and I don’t understand why you aren’t. They stole from you, they used you. I know what Etho and Bdubs did with that fishing rod. I know what Grian did to you right in the beginning. So why aren’t you upset? What’s with all the smiles and the winks and the fakeness , Scar?!”
Scar still didn’t say a word, just continued to stare at him, processing. But Tango wasn’t done.
“I need you to explain this to me. There’s no way you don’t understand everything that they did to you. But you choose to spend your time wallowing up on this mountain alone-“ and threatening to destroy bases “-instead of going out and doing something about it. I know you’re capable! Why aren’t you angry, Scar?”
The last sentence had Tango striding forward, gripping the front of Scar’s robe so hard that he could feel his claws puncture through the fabric and back into the leather of his gloves. His hair was aflame, the light flickering over Scar’s statuesque face, and it took far too much thought to keep his burning tail from scorching the floor.
He didn’t know why he cared so much. This was Scar’s decision, not his. But Tango needed to see Scar get upset, needed to see his anger, needed to see him call out the ones that left him and took advantage of his kindness and used him and treated him as a means to an end. He didn’t know why. Maybe because he worried that this was no big deal. What if Tango was the one who was overreacting? What if his anger was unjust and it was just him, the blazeborn, lashing out once again because he couldn’t control his temper?
It couldn’t be that, right? Surely Scar felt just as upset, just as betrayed.
Tango’s breaths were ragged things, and his eyes were fixated on Scar’s face, searching. He almost wanted Scar to push him off, yell at him, lose that mask for just a second . He got his wish, in a way. Because when Scar spoke next the mask fell away, leaving the wizard more sad, exhausted, and broken looking than Tango had ever seen him.
“Would it really make a difference, Tango?” Scar sighed, shoulders slumping. He was the perfect picture of defeat and it had Tango stepping back, dropping the wizard’s robes and feeling the fire go out of his hair.
He wanted to say yes, it would . But Tango knew better. If anger was productive, then Bdubs would have apologized. Skizz would have cared more. They’d stop using him. But no, anger was the trait of the crazy blazeborn, and they’d been rightfully scared but then unrightfully critical. Get over it, they’d all but told him. Etho had laughed. Skizz cared more about the team staying together than the state it existed in.
And Tango… wasn’t brave enough to leave, because he wanted this to be a good team and he wanted to have a place in it. Perhaps it was the same for Scar; he wasn’t brave enough to fight back, and he wanted friends badly enough to let himself be trampled by them.
“No.” Tango whispered instead, hugging himself and slumping against the wall on his side of the room. “I guess not.”
They stayed like that, silent, for a long moment. Almost like they were grieving the things that could have been. There was nothing for Tango here, nothing except a man just as broken as him, just as stubborn as him. They both knew they wouldn’t fight back against those that had hurt them.
The sun continued to rise outside and birdsong began infiltrating the hut. The colorful reflections of the stained glass vials were shifting as the daylight moved. Tango broke the stillness, straightening and giving the room one more weary glance. The chests of stock were labeled, and after catching one in his periphery he strolled over to it, reached inside, and showed the piece of glass to Scar. “I’ll buy this one.”
Scar looked up, saw what he was holding, and a sad smile crossed his face. “You can keep that one.”
“What, no bargaining? You’re not going to put my name up on some kind of pointification board?”
Scar shook his head. “Sounds like you need that one.”
Tango looked down at the luck crystal in his hand, then slowly slipped it into his inventory. “You and me both, Scar.”
He turned to go, sliding past the wizard and heading for the door. He was one foot outside when Scar raised his voice and called, “Tango?”
Tango froze. A catch, there’s always a catch. Shoulders tense, he swiveled, voice coming out a lot more clipped then he’d meant it to be. “What, Scar?”
Scar hesitated, bit his lip. “When we’re back home, and all of this is over.” The wizard started weakly. “Visit me?”
The tension drained out of Tango immediately, and he met Scar’s sad, desperate stare.
“Of course, Scar.” Tango said softly, then he left the hut and closed the door behind him.