Hermitcraft oneshots

Potential (Fluff)

First shot of 2021!! Excitement noises!!

So I watched Soul (great movie btw) and had this idea not long after of a hermit dreaming of playing an instrument but having a kinda bad instructor then losing confidence, then later being brought back up by another hermit. Thats the basic TL;DR

Plus we all need more platonic Mumbo+Stress in our lives.

Warnings:
-Stress' teacher is awful (they're just overall unhelpful as an instructor)
-Stress' expectations of herself are kinda high (inexplicit but it's there)

@ me if I miss anything

I don't actually play the violin so I'm sorry violinists if this is innaccurate. I am just a simple Band Kid.

1607 words

~3rd POV~

Ever since she was a child, Stress really only had one dream. It had all started ages ago on one of the most uncomfy swing down chairs surrounded by tons of people she hadn't known. Her father had insisted she would enjoy, but her short attention span was already giving out, with all this noise, an empty stage, Stress didn't understand at first. She remembered vividly the chatter of the crowd, followed by the chilling silence leading up to the first notes singing across the auditorium. How beautiful it sounded, how much it caught her off guard. When had people appeared under the bright spotlights? What were they holding?

Stress found herself lost in the music, swaying back and forth with the squeak of her chair as it tried to fold her tiny child form back with it. She didn't understand what was happening, just that she enjoyed the sound. Stress tried her best to study every instrument, most wood looking in the front, with long skinny things people held towards their mouths. Towards the back of the crowd on stage, everything seemed to be more shiny, with buttons and slides as opposed to strings. Her eyes kept falling back towards one section in particular, where people held what looked to be a tiny guitar up at their chins, the other hand holding a long thing that was held against the strings.

It's sound was beautiful. Like a bright yellow, mixing and dancing through the air with all the other sounds until it was a sharp, metallic, shiny grey in a sea of instruments by the time it reached her ears.

Stress later learned this instrument was called a violin.

Ever since that day, Stress hoped that she could one day make someone as happy as she was just by listening to the notes sway and dance as they sprang through the air and towards eardrums. Unfortunately, her chance never came. That dream was quickly crushed and turned to a puddle like liquids under the warm light of the sun. Her instructor was never pleased. There was always some problem with how she held herself, or what she was doing.

"Your posture is terrible."

"You're holding the bow wrong."

"You didn't play that note right."

After awhile, going back to lessons just to be put down instead of taught seemed pointless. Stress found herself more often discouraged whenever she held the instrument in her hand. That happiness she thought she would feel was instead boiling to frustration when instead of answering her questions or dealing with her concerns, her instructor would brush it off and still force her to play note after agonizing note until Stress could feel warm tears spilling down her face with all the criticism.

So, Stress' dream was quickly abandoned before it could blossom. What was the point? All her notes screamed in pain and crunched instead of singing. That yellow she imagined was slandered, dragged through the mud until it was so watered down as an ugly and dark green. Why should she try if she obviously was never going to get better? What was the point if she couldn't sound as brilliantly yellow as she wanted? Stress packed her violin away in the back of her closet, stuffed behind shulker boxes and chest monsters that would never see the light of day for years and years to come.