Chapter Text
In all of his years of lapping around server pathways, none rivaled just how plain ugly the Dream SMP’s paths were.
ConnorEatsPants glowered at the messy city before him as he shrugged portal particles from his shoulders, letting them roll back into the heat he had emerged from. He sighed and stretched his arms up, behind his neck, preparing for his daily walk along the so-called “Prime Path.”
It had become somewhat of a habit for Connor to retrace his steps back to Spawn, as he had moved his home far, far away from the chaos of the city many months ago. Walking just for the sake of the walk had always been something he'd been known for, if not by his few remaining friends then by basically everyone he bumped into in between his starting points and destinations. Today seemed to be a bit different, though.
Connor was used to bumping into at least one person during his strolls, if not more. But today? Nobody. It was as if everyone had stowed themselves away in their homes and boarded up the windows to boot, because there was absolutely nobody to be seen. Though, that wasn’t entirely a bad thing, per say.
In Connor's months living on this server in particular, he'd learned his lesson of when and when not to interact with others. While some meetings had ended in him getting a leg up when it came to surviving, others often gave him a reason to avoid socialization altogether. A particular one in the recent past, however, gave him an even better reason to simply stay away from the central area of the server entirely. Only recently had he begun to make his rounds once more. Trekking his way up and down the taiga, only to get lost, had become quite tiring to say the least.
Though the place was ugly as hell, Spawn was much more of his pace. It reminded him of his old homes on servers passed. Except, if those servers were blanketed in swarms of creeper holes and stray garbage lining each and every main path that nobody seemed to care enough to clean up. It may have been lonely and cold, but at least the taiga didn’t have any of that.
Speaking of paths, there seemed to be a lack of their signature, aforementioned mess underfoot as Connor made his way past the tree farm near the hub portal. That was… weird? He was accustomed to the place being a shithole. Not, y’know… actually attended to.
As he made his way down the stone brick and spruce adorned path, he came upon a large, clearly unfinished, structure of sorts. Inside was… a statue? A fountain? A… fountain with a statue on top, both clearly looking as though they were works in progress?
Before he could contemplate more ways to describe the structure's centerpiece, his thoughts were interrupted by a jarringly familiar voice.
"Connor? Holy shit, HEY! Connor!" the voice called from across the build.
Connor jumped at the sound of his name, staring down an incredibly familiar face, grinning and waving excitedly at him as they approached.
“Oh, uh... Michael?” Connor mumbled in surprise.
Connor was taken aback for a few moments, blinking as Michaelmcchill in the flesh ran up to him and paused, bending over to catch his breath once he arrived. If Connor had been told that morning that he would run into just one person – someone he actually knew prior to joining, nonetheless – he would have scoffed and called them crazy.
“Uh, hi,” he choked out as soon as Michael had caught his breath. Connor spread a nervous smile across his face to meet the one on the face of the man before him.
“How’ve ya been? Man, it’s been forever since I’ve seen an actually familiar face around here!” Michael exclaimed, slipping the building materials he had been holding back into his bags. The arrangement of spruce and stone bricks that caught Connor’s eye before they slipped away, into the leather satchel incidentally reminded him of the tidy paths he had been gratefully following just moments prior.
He wondered if it would be worth it to ask.
“Oh, uh, I’ve been alright,” he replied, a bit antsily.
‘Ah, fuck it,’ Connor told himself, psyching himself up.
Without any more hesitation, he went with his gut and continued in a curious tone.
“Are, uh- are you the one who’s been fixing all of the paths?”
“Yeah!” Michael replied eagerly. “Oh man, you should’ve seen ‘em before I even started !” His eyes widened, seemingly in remembrance, as he spoke.
The tone he grumbled with stirred at something deep within Connor’s soul that had previously been deeply repressed from ever being felt around others; ruthlessly petty contempt.
Thus, he butted in.
“Oh, believe me. I have. That shit was ugly as hell.”
Michael‘s face lit up even more as he let out a short chuckle at Connor’s complaint.
“Holy SHIT, EXACTLY!” he exclaimed loudly, followed by a bit more chuckling at his own exasperation.
Egged on almost, Connor continued
“Yeah! When I was actually living near here, I must’ve been right next to the epicenter of all things bullshit, ‘cause within two weeks they set up an entire obsidian wall and argued on top of it for a whole week after,” he recounted bitterly. “Is it still there, by the way?”
Michael’s face twisted a bit in thought, his arms stretching up behind his neck simultaneously.
“Oh god, I’d- I’d assume not ?” he supposed aloud. “I mean, right now, L’manburg is… uh,”
“A hole?” Connor deadpanned, raising an eyebrow.
“Yep, a hole!”
The two both fully burst into laughter at that. Connor couldn’t remember just when the last time he had let himself laugh like that was. He smiled blithely as he calmed down.
After a moment or two more of quiet giggling, Michael calmed down as well, sighing lightheartedly.
“Well, at least that’s one consistent thing about this place..!”
Connor laughed dryly at that.
“Hah, yeah…”
The two nodded, before the conversation crept to a natural lull, an awkwardly comfortable silence falling over the two.
Before either spoke again, a dull pang of hunger clawed at Connor’s stomach.
He grimaced, remembering that he hadn’t brought any food with him. In fact, the goal of his walk that day was to try to start stockpiling food, whether from others, or from chests that just so happened to be accessible to the loner while he was passing through. Not theft. Absolutely not.
Meanwhile, in the time that Connor took to mentally lament his lack of nourishment, Michael seemed to notice his predicament.
“Hey, dude, do you need food at all? You look pretty drained…”
...Did he?
Connor blinked a couple times quickly in bewildered embarrassment, before shaking himself out of his moment of stupor.
“Nah, I- I’m alright,” he insisted, just as his stomach disagreed with a growl.
Michael raised an eyebrow and gave Connor a knowing look, coupled with a kindly smile.
“Well, regardless…”
He stuck his arm back into his bag, digging around a bit.
“Connor, I have-”
-a gift for you two.”
If the late spring heat wasn’t what was fueling the tension of the situation, then it had to be the daggers that Schlatt was glaring into Michael’s bags from Connor’s side.
“Oh yeah? A gift, hah?” the businessman spat with contempt. “What, a gift from hell , Michael? Or should I say-”
“What, Brine ? I’m still Satan? Huh?” Michael shot back, stifling an incredulous chuckle as he spoke.
“Yes! You are!”
“Then PROVE it. Prove I'm still Satan. I dare you.”
Schlatt’s face paled at Michael’s demand, as he somehow hadn’t premeditated such a demand, but he kept his wary scowl upon his face.
He slowly turned to Connor, who was wiping some sweat from his brow nonchalantly.
Connor stared back tiredly, presence utterly devoid of any ounce of tension that the two other men were emanating. To be honest, he was still recovering from yesterday’s antics, even that far into the next day.
“Connor- Connor, make him prove it. Give him- tell him something he has to do,” Schlatt demanded in the quietest voice he could possibly muster.
Connor raised an eyebrow slowly, before conceding and offering what he, personally, felt was the most productive statement anyone had made that afternoon.
“Show us the uh, ‘gift,’ you have for us,” he stated simply.
A sharp glare immediately pierced itself into the side of his head.
‘Here we go,’ he thought to himself, turning his head to meet Schlatt’s incredulous look.
"’Show us the gift,’ Connor?" Schlatt prompted. "What, you just want him to pull out some fuckin' black magic doohickey and hex us? Hah ?"
Again, Connor rolled his eyes before replying.
"Schlatt, he hasn’t even told us why he's giving it to us in the first place.” He shot a halfhearted glance at the man in question. “And plus, why would the guy we beat Brine out of yesterday suddenly, inexplicably, be back to haunt us further? Are you saying my exorcism skills don’t work?" Connor raised his eyebrows, jokingly accusatory.
Schlatt paused at that and pondered Connor’s reasoning for an extended moment. The ram let go of a bit of tension from his chest, toning it down a bit at the other’s words. However, once that moment was up, he rounded on Michael once more.
"Connor’s got a point." To his side, Connor smiled slightly as his partner went on. "What's the big idea, Mcchill?"
“Well,” Michael started. “Considering how our past few interactions have gone, both between us and between you two and Ant...” He stuck his arm into the bags at his side once more. “I figured a little gift might help with reparations and, maybe, ease our two sides into a… possible truce?” Michael meekly smiled at the two once he made his pitch.
The two businessmen seemed to sync up, giving Michael a pointed look in response to his explanation, before turning to share a look with each other.
“...Give us a moment, wouldja?” Schlatt requested sharply.
Without missing a beat, Michael nodded, yelping agreements out as he pulled an empty hand out of his bag, clasping it with his other at waist height. One might even say that he did it to ‘em.
Schlatt turned back to Connor and cupped his hand next to his mouth, whispering at just about the same volume that he spoke.
“This is- this is totally a trap, right?”
“Yeah, definitely,” Connor replied, mimicking Schlatt’s way of attempting to hide their discussion from Michael.
“I mean, we- why would the guy we brutally murdered-”
“ I brutally murdered,”
“Yeah, yeah- tomato tomahto.” Schlatt waved his cupped hand, shrugging and continuing.
“Listen. Why would the guy we spent the better part of yesterday accusing of being a demon just- just come back over here and claim he’s here to give us free shit for the sake of ‘mending relations?’ Sounds pretty damn fishy to me.”
Connor glanced over at Michael, meeting a curious stare before it frantically diverted itself to the ground.
“Y’know what I think?”
“Hm.”
“I bet he fucked up and blabbed about why he’s really here without meaning to.”
Schlatt thought for a moment, furrowing his brow, before his face lit up once more. His attempted whisper ripped loudly from his throat with his realization as he grinned wildly at Connor.
“Holy SHIT YOU’RE RIGHT!” With that, Schlatt whirled back around to face Michael, his arms crossed. He blinked expectantly, already facing the duo as Connor turned as well.
“Hey, Michael. So, Connor and I have done some thinking, yeah?” Schlatt began.
“Yeah? And?”
“And, well,” he hesitated for dramatic effect. “You see, Michael it- it’s just…”
The lead was handed to Connor.
“We’re not quite sure why you would be here to deal with reparations between Schlatt&Co and, well. AntVenom,” Connor filled in. With that explanation, Michael’s face shifted to somewhere between a sly smile and complete seriousness.
“Yeah? And why’s that?” he shot back. “Is it ‘cuz I’m not him?”
“Why, yes. It is,” Schlatt deadpanned. Before Michael could retort in an attempt to clarify why he was there, Connor jumped back in. He wasn’t gonna go entirely for the kill just yet, but they were nearing the point.
“It just feels a bit unprofessional for the guy who’s been, yknow, slandering and terrorizing us? To just send his friend here,” he elaborated. “Sort of like… a lackey?” Connor earned a giddy, barely-disguised side-eye from his left at that bit.
However, cutting Michael off from replying once more, the Nether portal roared as someone stepped out onto the path. The three turned and looked up at the hill the structure had been perched upon. While the confident duo paled at who stepped through, a grin dripping with contempt took over Michael’s face.
“Well, if my generosity of all things is such an issue for you two, then there’s the guy you two wanna talk to,” he taunted, before waving at his friend. “YO, ANT!”
Schlatt could only articulate an ugly ‘GAHHH’ sound as he swatted a hand at Michael dismissively.
Connor patted his partner’s shoulder lightly, in an attempt to comfort him.
Schlatt stalked up the path, stomping dramatically as he did so.
Mentally, Connor knew that he’d have to think of something to cheer Schlatt up later. Whenever the conman and his… enemy? Rival? Whatever. Whenever the two butted heads, things always seemed to escalate further than they really needed to. And when Schlatt got riled up, it would soon become everyone else’s problem if Connor didn’t intervene.
Luckily for him, though, the most that his buddy would usually require was just some alone time for aimlessly yelling and shouting his worries away.
And fishing time. The man did enjoy his fishing.
In the meantime, though, it seemed as though Connor was on his own for the- wait. He stole a glance to the side at the man beside him.
‘Fuck,’ he thought to himself.
Michael hadn’t followed Schlatt to go join the conversation.
“Well, it looks like they’re gonna be busy for a while, huh?” Michael remarked, facing the prickly pair up the path.
His tone made Connor do a mental double-take.
Just a minute ago, this guy was just as snarkily hostile as Schlatt had been. And now? None of that hostility remained.
It was strange, but Connor supposed that he understood. After all, he really only kept up the business act to such an intense degree to match his buddy’s own enthusiasm. When Schlatt was out of the picture, deals with Connor were much more methodical and easy to stomach. At least, that’s what he liked to assume about himself.
“Uh, yep,” he choked out, realizing he’d zoned out for a moment there. “Why, uh, aren’t you joining ‘em?”
“Eh, you guys backed me into a corner before I could save my dignity back there,” Michael admitted in a shockingly earnest manner. “Ant can deal with Schlatt on his own til I’m ready to go back into business mode.”
Connor nodded, humming in stumped agreement.
Michael turned around, propping his hands up on his hips calmly.
“So, is this your place?” he inquired.
“Yeah, it is,” Connor replied after just a moment of wariness. He blinked, silent and frozen, as Michael turned around to peer around the corners and in through the windows.
“Man, this place is gorgeous!” Michael gushed.
He scampered up to the window to the left of the front door, leaned over the hedge, and pressed his hands and face to the glass in childlike wonder.
“Oh SHIT, you’ve got cats? Dude, I love cats! I’ve only got one at home, her name is Leela and-”
Connor took a moment to sneak a glance behind himself at Schlatt as the man next to him rambled on.
From behind them, it seemed that the conversation was going smoothly. Well, as smoothly as a conversation between Schlatt and AntVenom could be. They hadn’t reached the outlandishly loud yelling stage yet, at the very least.
Connor had time before he and Michael would end up having to join them. There had been a long speech that morning about avoiding and preventing death that Connor preferred to not have to hear for a second time.
Speaking of which, he probably should start paying attention to Michael again oh wait he was watching them too.
“How long ya bet they’re gonna take before they start doin’ more than just talk aggressively at each other?” he snickered to Connor.
“...Eh, probably another minute or two…?” he guessed. “Schlatt’s been getting a bit better at holding out on the outbursts. This is the best he’s been all week.” Connor of all people would know, after all. A few days of calm made all the difference for his poor ears and pounding heart.
“Gotcha, gotcha,” Michael confirmed. “That’s thanks to you I’d assume?” Michael suggested, earning a modest smile to match his own friendly one.
“I- well…” Connor began at first, before getting cut off by some distant shouting.
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE’S ‘NOT REAL’?!?”
“I mean, can you prove she is?”
...What the fuck were they talking about?
Connor didn’t question it, opting to reply modestly to Michael instead.
“Only a little bit.”
Sure, yeah, he’d advised his buddy to not fall for others’ attempts at riling him up so quickly, but this calm-streak definitely wasn’t all Connor’s doing.
Cast a doubtful look from Michael, he elaborated.
“When Schlatt starts doing something different from the norm, it’s usually ‘cause he actually wants to do it. I mean, at most? All I really did was offer advice. The fact it took him that long to start yelling is proof of his own diligence.”
Michael nodded, but didn’t look fully convinced.
“Well, regardless of if he’d started bitching now or later, that still means he listened to you, didn’t he?”
When Connor shot an uncertain look toward the nearby argument, Michael went on.
“Y’know, I’d bet you’re probably the only person he’d actually stop what he’s doing to listen to, Connor.”
...Woah.
“Ah, you think so...?” Connor rubbed the back of his neck, smiling shyly. It meant a lot to hear such kind words from the guy he had been chasing around with a half-broken diamond sword just the day prior.
“LISTEN BUDDY, YOU CAN’T PROVE THAT REBA MCENTIRE IS REAL.”
“ F#&K YOU, BITCH YES I CAN. ”
The two exchanged a look as they watched their friends bicker, Connor wincing and Michael snickering softly before continuing.
“Absolutely! Y’know, I’d bet as well that that contributes a lot to why you two have such good synergy,” he commended.
Connor waved the hand he’d been resting on his neck, sheepishly smiling as he dismissed the other man’s praise.
“Nah, not entirely. Both mostly just come from how long we’ve been stickin’ it out together.” Michael nodded in understanding.
“I feel ya there. Me and-”
“AntVenom, you will Rue The Day that you decided that you would come onto MY property,”– it was technically Connor’s past the point the two stood at, but okay –“and spew absolute Blasphemy to my FACE.” Schlatt’s exasperation was punctuated with a couple of angry stomps upon the spruce-boarded steps of the path as he returned.
“It’s not blasphemy if everyone agrees with it,” the man trailing behind him pointed out smugly.
“Yeah? Everyone?” The two stopped before Connor and Michael. “Who’s that, AntVenom? Huh?”
Luckily, before any more snide comments could be flung, Michael butted in.
“What kind of blasphemy are we talkin’ about here?” he asked earnestly, though his body language quickly shifted back to being much more alert.
Art of the deal, Connor supposed.
Before Schlatt himself could clarify, Ant slipped in his piece.
“Reba McEntire.”
Schlatt whirled around to shoot daggers into Ant’s sharp smirk.
“GAHHH, SHUT UUUP!” he exclaimed, whirling back around to the two before him furiously. “Listen, before this ASSHOLE can sway it, answer me this.” Schlatt paused, taking a deep breath in, either for dramatic effect, to calm his nerves, or quite possibly both.
“Is or is not: Reba McEntire a real person?”
Michael opened his mouth and began to speak, calling all eyes upon him.
“Oh, yeah she-”
Ant furiously shook his head, eyes intense as he drew a line in the air before his own neck with his thumb, entirely unbeknownst to the conman in front of him.
“She- uh, she’s NOT! Yep, not real. Not- nope.”
He continued to splutter a bit, solidifying his place under Ant’s thumb.
AntVenom 1, jschlatt 0.
Then as Michael’ stammering halted and all eyes laid upon him, it was Connor’s turn.
“Probably,” he said simply.
“Yeah? YEAH? Probably?” Ant exclaimed, turning his gleaming glare to Schlatt in triumph. “See? That’s not a full yes!”
Now, calling back to what Michael had been saying earlier, if anyone other than Connor had replied with his choice, they would’ve been thrown across the yard by the sheer rage of whatever outburst they would have elicited from the irritable man.
But, Connor?
All he got was an over-exaggerated stink eye from his partner.
He threw Schlatt back an apologetic, teasing grin, paired with a lift of an eyebrow, before the two seemed to resolve the would-be argument telepathically.
Being Connor was not suffering. It was winning.
However, the argument was clearly far from being over. Schlatt heaved out a disgruntled sigh before turning back around to continue the fight.
“You know what, AntVenom? How about this,” he began. “Why don’t the four of us make our way over to the KFC Dome and settle this like men, eh? I’m sure you of all people would be pleased to see my arch nemesis again.”
Ant crossed his arms and widened his smirk at the prospects of getting to argue with Schlatt about that fucking map art of the president again. Connor didn’t understand the appeal, to be honest.
“Alright, then let’s go.”
“Yeah! Let’s go!”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah!”
Connor pinched his nose, breathing out a silent sigh as the two set off, himself and Michael trailing not far behind. So it was gonna be one of those days, huh?
They walked in relative silence for not too long, before Michael gasped suddenly.
“Oh YEAH! The gift!” he exclaimed, pausing in his place and digging an arm into his bag as Connor eyed it warily.
Michael fished out a small, generic bag of items. A bag that Connor recognized.
His eyes widened.
“Is that-”
“This is the stuff I accidentally picked up off of you when we had the altercation yesterday,” Michael explained, holding the bag out to Connor.
His mouth curled into the beginnings of a grateful smile before he spluttered out a reply.
“Michael, I-”
