post-grad ayako on the dream smp
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“Thank you Tommy, I do aspire to being alright so I’d say this is good news.”

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“Fuck yeah it is, I’m not just alright, I’m perfect. You should aspire to be more like me. And then you will improve.”

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"Will we now. In what ways will we improve." 

SOMETHING IS MOVING OVER THERE— it's the wind. Trees do that. She clamps down on her gut-level reaction before she can do more than tense up. Come on, Ayako, getting back in the habit of scanning your surroundings does not mean you need to freak out every time something moves—

"Also, uh, Sam mentioned monsters, any chance I can get more detail on those." 

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“There’s, uh, there’s skeletons, they like to shoot you with bows. There’s the fluffy green ones that look like Sam, that’s creepers, they follow you and explode, like bees but worse. There’re zombies, they’re also green. Lots of monsters are green I guess. And there’s spiders but I have a spider and it is not a monster it is my pet and it is named Shroud. …Dream isn’t a monster but also he sort of is. He is in jail though so he doesn’t matter.”

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“You forgot ravagers. And witches. And drowned. And endermen—”

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“I didn’t forget endermen I was having some fuckin’ respect for Ranboo over there. Prime, Tubbo. They don’t even hurt you as long as you’re polite.”

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Mals here can be... people? 

...she's not dealing with any of the implications of that. Maybe at some point but not right now. For now the important thing is that there's few enough you can list them off the top of your head and the objection will be 'you forgot these three' not 'why are you trying to list individual types'. She relaxes, marginally but visibly if you're watching. 

"Oh, good, polite I can do. I solemnly swear I do not stab except in self-defense." 

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“Also, um. Don’t make eye contact with them? They don’t like that at all. They’re, um, they’re taller than I am and all black and their eyes are purple. But if you don’t look them in the eye and don’t stab them you should be fine.” (Ranboo: has not been making eye contact with her the whole conversation.)

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"No stabbing unless I'm stabbed first, no eye contact, got it. That's... a lot simpler than the mals I'm used to, actually." 

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“Mals? Is that a, uh, another word for mobs? I don’t want to, um, make assumptions or anything.”

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"--oh, no, it's monsters. Maleficaria, is the thing it's short for.

...I guess it's not not a mob, given graduation? But mostly no." 

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“—Monsters are hostile mobs. Mob is just a word for—things that move around and probably aren’t people? I’ve never heard of maleficaria.”

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(Tommy and Tubbo have already gotten distracted doing parkour and chasing each other around the trees and walls, although they stay in earshot.)

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"Oh. I-- sorry, in the version of English I grew up with, a mob is a very very very large group of hostile people. Or sometimes not people, mals aren't people, but usually you'd use it to mean people. So, yes, apparently it's a kind of mob."

Scanning scanning. Doesn't look like anything's there that isn't supposed to be although the parkour keeps catching her attention just because it's motion.

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“Huh. —Most hostile mobs don’t like light, it’s why torches work to keep them away. And it’s why endermen tend to get classified with them even though they’re technically neutral mobs. Is it the same with mals?”

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"I don't think so, usually? They tend to stay in dark corners or drawers or things but that's not because they don't like light intrinsically, it's just, if they don't hide you'll kill them before they can eat you. Light does not keep them away when you're sleeping." 

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“That’s different here, then.”

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“Wait, you graduated? What’d you graduate from? Like, a school?” (He asks this as if it would be unusual if the answer was yes.)

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Ayako debates, for a moment, how honest to be.

She doesn't want the rest of her life to be like that college course she audited, full of aliens who she can never tell them are alien to her.

But there are reasons, excellent reasons, that people don't generally talk about magic. And-- they'll be aliens regardless, in this strange new world where death is temporary and forests are safe to exist in.

 

"...yeah, a school," she says. "Kind of a weird one, but, you know, still fundamentally a school, classes and homework and midterms and whatnot."

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“Huh. Weird.”

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"What, uh, did you guys do from ages fourteen to eighteen, I don't know that I've ever known someone who just noped out of the whole enterprise." Or could do so without dying. 

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“Uh, I didn’t really do much of anything until I was sixteen? Then, uh, fought in a war, worked as a spy, fought in another war, was President for a while, fought in a war again. Wow. That’s, uh, a lot of wars when I say it like that.”

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"I admit I am really not sure how you would even fit that many wars into one year."

Pause.

"...I guess we had an almost-war that lasted a weekend but, crucially, it did not at any point become an actual war, just a series of very tense conversations." 

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“Mostly they’re just, like, a day? After the first couple hours you kind of already know who won and then it’s like, what’s even the point. Except the disc war, I guess. So maybe it depends what you’re fighting about.”

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So it's not the kind of thing that leaves everyone dead and things you desperately needed destroyed over the course of months, and also not the kind of thing that involves armies invading and protracted military campaigns over the course of years, which is all of the understandings of how war can work she's got. 

God, she misses knowing the rules.

"Huh. --wait, president of what?"

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