Oneshots! (Mostly Hermitcraft)

Off to die a thousand deaths (or until I finally rest) [Tango]

Febuwhump Day 18: Too Weak to Move ft. blaze!Tango and avian!Grian

TWs: blood and injury (minor)

The dungeon is ready for its next victim.

Tango popped up into the waiting room, water slicking off his dungeon master robes, dripping onto the floor and evaporating as the bubblevator deposited him at the top. He ran a hand through his frosty hair, grimacing at its rough, dry texture. Sure, the dye looked cool, but it made it impossible to keep his hair hydrated, leading to many nights of itchy discomfort.

"Alright, who's running next?" he called cheerfully. His smile dropped as he noticed Mumbo pacing back and forth in front of the stage, one finger twirling his moustache frantically as he went back and forth. Doc sat on the edge of the stage, eyebrows creased with worry. An empty potion bottle sat next to him as he rested his chin on his steepled fingers, deep in thought.

"What's going on, gentlemen?" Tango asked, approaching them swiftly. His robes snapped dramatically in the wind from how quickly he was walking, his boots thumping on the ground. Mumbo stopped pacing, although he still pulled on his moustache. The man was usually anxious, often viewing things with extreme pessimism. However, Tango hadn't seen him this flustered for years. Unconsciously, his hair began to spark, hints of orange flames flickering among his icy blue locks.

"It's Grian," Mumbo blurted, shifting his hands to fidget with his tie. "We don't know where he's gone and I'm worried about him. He doesn't know what he's doing, really, and–"

"Let's start at the beginning," Doc interjected, the GOAT wincing somewhat guiltily. "I gave Grian an experimental potion as a joke without telling him what it did. We didn't pressure him much and he drank the stupid thing. I should've seen it coming," he groaned, burying his head in his hands.

"Seen what coming?" Tango asked nervously, already dreading the answer.

"He shrank, Tango," Mumbo said, loosening his tie and taking it off. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and tossed it onto the stage, and undid the first few buttons of his shirt. "He's the size of a five-year-old, and he acts like one, too."

"Oh," is all Tango could say for a few seconds. "And you can't find him?" he checked worriedly, glancing around the space.

"He's nowhere to be found," Doc said. "We checked this whole area and the backrooms. We even went downstairs and looked around, but he's still, well, gone. I have... no clue where he could've gone."

"That's really not good," Tango said unhelpfully, flames beginning to rise in his hair. He slipped off his hood so it wouldn't catch fire, undoing the buttons on his robes to reveal his suit beneath the outer jacket, a modestly tight-fitting, button-up, high-collared shirt, complete with three-quarter sleeves and oriental embroidery. In contrast, his pants were loose, giving him a full range of motion.

"What are you doing, Tango?" Mumbo asked, alarmed. Instead of replying, the dungeon master sat down on the floor and closed his eyes, listening to the familiar sounds of the dungeon. He stiffened as he recognised the moving parts of the card shuffler, completely empty of cards as it drew Stumble after Stumble. Frowning with concentration, he threw his focus through level one, searching for entities that weren't native to his dungeon.

Running through the icy tunnels was a small figure, small wings on its back as it slipped and slid around bends.

Tango cursed, eyes snapping open as he ran to the hole in the floor that allowed him to drop down into the main hall of the Deep Frost Citadel. Mumbo and Doc called after him, standing and running after him, but Tango was too quick, running to his entrance into the redstone of Decked Out and ensuring the door shut securely behind him. He grit his teeth as he opened his elytra and glided down to his storage room. He suited up with full diamond armour and emptied his inventory, grabbing several health and regeneration potions, along with a speed potion and a potion of leaping.