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Ignorance was bliss.
Turning a blind eye to those who need it, ensuring your safety as you know you cannot deal with the consequences alone. Trust issues act up—would they truly help you if you’re in serious danger? It’s pathetic, honestly! That’s what they thought. They could’ve just ignored Terry, then they wouldn’t need to be dealing with trying to save Robloxia. They were just dealing with a normal life! But things had to go horribly wrong, right? To be a hero.
What kind of hero would they be if their own voice isn’t heard?
Why do people ignore them when they’re the ones who need help?
Why does Shedletsky seem to not give two shits that they fought their own emotions just to get that god forsaken sword.
“Give in, [PLAYER].”
Thousands of names, but they couldn’t hear their own name. What was it again? They don’t remember. She will never hear what it truly was. He won’t be able to find his own identity. Would they?
…
They wouldn’t get the answer anytime soon, right?
Would they?
Can people please stop ignoring them?
Please.
[PLAYER] Used Call: Griefer!
“H4H!” Griefer spoke up the moment he was summoned, before his face turned into confusion. There wasn’t any fight, hell—this was just the hotel bedroom. He turned around, and saw Player on the bed; completely exhausted. He glanced around the entire room, which was filled with trash and it looked like it hadn't been cleaned for a while. Disgusting, a disgrace to society. This was their hero?
“PL4Y3R? WH4T H4PP3NED?” He questioned, looking back at the Player. They didn’t move, they were still like a statue. Slowly, with caution—he approached the bed and surprisingly, gently nudged their shoulder with his crowbar. Were they dead? Was he summoned to deal with their dead body? Oh, c’mon, it’ll look like he was the one who killed them.
“I’m tired, Griefer.” The Player finally responded after a while, albeit muffled from the pillow on their face. Griefer flinched in surprise, and his usual cocky expression softened after hearing their words. Though, he immediately plastered his neutral face—but there was something different with his gaze. Was it a concern? Worry? Disappointment? Does he find them disgusting? A villain? Some utterly useless and pathetic person of a—
“PL4Y3R.” Griefer started, sighing a little. He needed to word this properly, he was the one summoned to help for… something like this. Comfort was something he’s horrible at, but he couldn’t just leave them alone. They could’ve picked someone else, like Cruel King—but they probably feel remorse about killing him. Or Calypso—but maybe she didn’t want to see them, not after what they’ve done towards the Captain. He was there, he fought the Ancients alongside them after Calypso eventually got knocked out of the fight.
Red and Blue? They’re just children. And no way in hell they’ll summon the Gorilla. So… He was the last option, wasn’t he? Damnit.
“…C0M3 H3RE.” He managed to make out, sitting at the free space on the bed and hesitantly lent his arms out. Player perked up, and he immediately turned his head away. This was awkward and embarrassing, to say the least. Him, the Griefer—Brad Thaniyel—showing affection for once? To someone that literally almost killed him, but also saved him? He’s never going to live this up; but his thoughts were interrupted when he felt a soft snuggle on his body.
Looking down, he saw the Player reciprocating the gesture, their head gently pressed against his chest. They were obviously tired from their adventures, and he felt a pang of—dismay? Anger? Dismay, for the fact that they just let themselves get tired like this; and anger, since why did nobody stop them? Whoever sent them out in the first place is vile, not even giving them a break? What are they, some robot to be used? Damnit, Shedletsky. Maybe beating you up was a good idea.
“…Can we please stay like this?” Player questioned, their voice was weak. Griefer almost tightened his grip from this, but kept his calm. Not now. He thought—the Player needs comfort, needs someone to lean on; just like how his father leaned on them just to save him from his death.
“SUR3.” He responded without thinking, but honestly? Who cares anymore. As long as they don’t tease him about this, he doesn’t mind their clinginess. If anything, he found it almost adorable—what? He shook that thought off. He can’t find the Player attractive, right? I mean, they have that dumb smile, that awesome fighting skills, and that stupid mind of theirs…
…Oh goodness, he is falling in love with them.
Without realizing, he tightened his grip a little and pressed a soft kiss on their head. After a moment, he paused—and was about to say a snarky response until he felt their body limp against him. He glanced at their face, tilting it up a little with his hand and realized that they fell asleep during his inner turmoil. He was glad that they were asleep when he did that; but also disappointed that he couldn’t get to see their reaction. Maybe next time.
But, this time, from now on; he’ll never ignore their calls. Of course, he’ll think that they’re calling him for battle—but times like this? He… doesn’t mind it. Hell, he’ll happily be there for the Player if their mind was plagued with negative or harmful thoughts. He can’t let them do anything stupid, not on his watch.
They’ve always been there for him, now it’s his turn to be there for them.