"Hey, Beetles!" A robot laughed, red eyes and sweater popping out from his silvery hair and gray skin and pants.

"Hi, RG!" The man laughed, running down the sidewalk towards the other. "Whatcha doing?"

"Waiting for Mumbot, we're gonna go make a new redstone machine today. We could use another person, it'll only take an hour..."

"Of course, but maybe in a bit! Me and-" The man was cut off when another figure came up behind him, swiftly scooping him up from under the armpits. "CLEO! LET ME DOWN!"

The taller figure blushed, closing her eyes and drawing the other closer. She swayed slowly, letting the shorter's legs dangle down. 

"CLEO!" the man kicked his legs, trying to drop out of his friends arms. "LET ME OUT!"

The woman let out a quiet giggle, letting it echo around the area. Her long red hair shined from under a thin halo as it wavered over her head slowly. She was over 9 feet tall, and the long pearl wings hanging from her back were far longer. Her legs took up most of her body, as the upper part of her was of a regular-heighted woman. "Don't think I will."

The robot below then laughed, grinning at the two. "I think your friend is here now, Beetles."

"Yeah, I guess," Beetlejoe stopped writhing in the woman's arms, trying to give her an annoyed look over his shoulder. "We'll be off, then?"

"Okay!" The tall woman laughed, spreading her arms and dropping her friend to the ground. "Let's go!"

"HEY!" The ghost screamed as the woman started to run off, picking himself up from the ground and starting to run after her. "YOU MESSED UP MY SUIT!"

—————

"Cleooo, you wanna do another round?" The man smiled, holding up a handful of UNO cards.

The taller sighed, leaning back on the bed the pair sat on. "Sure. I'm sleeping afterwards, though." She leaned forwards, taking the two hands of cards in one hand, the remaining deck in her other. She shuffled them quickly, eyes following the stiff paper as it danced around in her spindly hands. "Why do you like this game so much?"

The man tilted his head slightly at the question. "What?"

Cleo paused, looking up to look him in the eyes. "Why do you like this... 'UNO' so much? It's just some colored papers, along with some random selection. It's all just a game of chance."

"I-" Beetlejoe paused, watching as the game cards went on hopping between his friend's fingers. "It's fun."

"So you like gambling?"

The brunette's eyes widened. "N-No!"

"Hm. Then what do you like?"

That's the problem with AngelCleo. Her face is so plain- deep eyes, barely-there nose. Nothing else. Everything she says flows around the entire room- or any other area- so it sound like even the curtains say what she does. Her eyes just stare deep, deep into you, waiting for you to answer perfectly to whatever insane question she asks, however private. She can keep a conversation going on for hours, never answering any of your questions.

"I like hanging around with you?"

The ginger would have smiled if she could, blushing a bit. "Thanks." And with that, she went back to focusing on the cards.

But that was a month ago. Everything's changed since then.

Beetlejoe's eyes opened slowly, blinking at the sunlight shedding through the window next to his old bed. He turned onto his side before slowly sitting up, bare feet stepping onto his beaten slippers, not even trying to pull them on. He stepped through his messy room, trying not to step on the who-knows-what covering the floor. He was just at the door before noticing he had forgotten his old glasses, yet again.

The brunette cursed under his breath, turning back towards his bed. He quickly jumped through the old room in a few jumps, he was too annoyed to be careful now. He cursed again at something stabbing his heel, quickly swiping his old glasses from his night table.

He finally got to his old kitchen, opening up the fridge to check if any mouse had gotten itself stuck in again, freezing to death or whatever. Today was happily not one of those days. It was also a day a mouse had gotten in- and out.

"Yeah, fuck you too," Beetlejoe muttered, picking up the old stick of butter from its tray, throwing it into the overflowing garbage can. He glanced ever-depleting contents of the fridge, frowning. Everything there was inedible on its own, other than- there.

The short man snagged the styrofoam box of eggs, placing it down on the kitchen counter; stuffed with food wrappers, broken eggshells, and other trash. He picked up a used plate from the floor, swiping it under the sink faucet for a few seconds.

Suddenly, a loud alarm clock went off from under a pile of dishes somewhere. "Aaand I'm gonna be late now."

The man quickly ran to his front door, grabbing his beaten sneakers and striped jacket from their little cubbyholes in the wall. He slipped the jacket on, shaking off a small cobweb from inside one of the arms. He grabbed his shoes, stuffing his feet in without a thought.

Opening his front door let a big gust of wind fly in, pushing the tons of rubbish on the floor back a foot.

Beetlejoe ran out to his warped porch, slamming the door shut and locking it. Reaching for his old elytra- Dammit.

Beetlejoe liked to keep his set of elytra on a hook next to his front door, to keep it safe from being squished inside. It would get aired out and even dried by the wind, but sometimes it was stolen. Or eaten by moths.

He sighed, checking his cracked watch. Five minutes was when he would officially be late- could he make it quickly? Sure.

After 10 minutes, he was there. He looked up the large arch towering over the other buildings in the area, smiling slightly. 

Beetlejoe walked up to one of the smallest buildings, adjusting his jacket as he opened the door. The room he was in acted as an opening room, a thin coatrack on a wall covered in jackets, sweaters, and a hat or two. The short man wiped his shoes on the rough doormat, pulled inside a few months ago.

'Welcome!' It read in large cursive letters, a small angel hovering next to it. 

Beetlejoe stopped, breathing in deeply.

He was used to the smell.

The smell of dust, and how it coated every surface in the building.

The smell of wood and insulation, ever since a part of the ceiling collapsed.

The smell of blood.

He frowned, stepping into the old white and teal storage room, opening a warped door.

"Hi."

The suited man sat down on the foot of the large maroon bed, kicking his shoes off. "How're you doing?" He quickly crawled over the the head, laying over the covers of the left side.

"...I'm sorry I'm late."

Silence.

"The resistance is getting worse. They've made a new base, and they're ap ranking the HEP like hell."

Silence.

"You're looking beautiful today, I must add."

The brunette looked over at his friend. "I guess. I haven't seen you in a while."

Silence.

"Should I get some bread to eat?"

Silence.

"No? ...Okay." Beetlejoe sat up, putting his knees up to his chin. "I... I've missed you."

And so, the two sat.

The ginger, long dead

And the brunette, just barely.

—————

(1,254 words)

Hi hi yes angst

I wrote this in a week or a bit more

Yes Cleo died

I'll answer any question you have here

Till the next update!