Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Xelqua."

Gri- Xelqua turns around, jumping at the use of his actual name. Most Watchers had the morals.. or whatever was left of them, to call each other by their more casual names -- Whoever this was must have something important to say or report.

"Oh, hey." Xelqua grins at the hooded figure in front of him. Much like himself, the Watcher had black, inky wings jutting out from the side of their face, covering their eyes. Three other pairs of wings stuck out from behind their back, the purple eyes that lay on them staring into his soul. "What's up?"

The Watcher bristled at his colloquial language. "There's a meeting happening. You need to attend, now. "

"I see." Strange. He's usually warned of any meeting happening weeks beforehand. "Lead the way, then."

Xelqua hesitates for a second before following behind. The Watcher was leading him to the meeting spot they normally used. He loved looking at the scenery on the way to the meeting room, though. It was simply a view of outer space, with hundreds of thousands of stars and planets dotting the universe that all the Watchers had created together. Sometimes, he could catch glimpses of the planets he personally formed and designed. Xelqua didn't believe he was one to brag, however, he could say the foundations and communities he was in charge of had some of the most beautiful buildings and ecosystems.

Speaking of buildings, he was working on a grand castle for one of the newer worlds. Xelqua barely held back a sigh, wings ruffling slightly as he mentally noted to finish the back of the castle.

I'll just finish it later. He thought.

Xelqua's train of thought was abruptly cut off as he looked up, realizing that he made it to his destination.

"Xelqua. Quit standing there and get inside. You're already 8 minutes late." The Watcher that had escorted him here said, turning away from him and walking into the meeting room.

"Right, of course." Xelqua quickly walked into the room. The walls were tauntingly glittering at him like they always did. Seriously, who approved of this form of decor for such an important room?

He located and sat in his chair, getting ready to zone out for the whole meeting. Unfortunately, he noticed that every Watcher was practically staring him down. "What? Do I have something on my outfit?"

Xelqua was promptly ignored as the Head Watcher almost immediately started speaking.

"Welcome to Meeting 498,535,657. We will be going over the normal reports, then, at the end. We have a.. special announcement ." The Head Watcher said, giving Xelqua a quick glance. Though, Xelqua didn't notice. He was too busy puzzling over how one could possibly remember the number of meetings the circle had had since the group came together. Seriously, Xelqua was one of the first Watchers -- He and a few other Watchers created the whole universe! That's a whole ton of digits to remember! Does he even remember how old he is? If the universe was created about 23 billion years ago then.. he had to be... 23 billion? No, 24..?

While Xelqua thought about random questions that popped into his head, the Head Watcher droned on about statuses and reports about some of the more major planets and civilizations that had to be worked on. Xelqua even swore he heard praise about his own structures.

As he tried to figure out which Watcher decided that math was an acceptable topic to bring to more than half of the civilizations, Xelqua realized that the meeting was coming to a close. He was getting ready to get up when the Head called out to him.

"Xelqua, stop where you are. Have you forgotten that we still have a special announcement? In fact, I think it's time you hear what it is yourself." The hooded figure 'looked' at him with its six, eerie eyes. It was noticeable that the Head also had a handful of animalistic features including what seemed to be spiralling goat horns, a snake tail, sharp, canine-like teeth, and a whole lot of other things. All of the original watchers had a different set of features like that, including himself. It was a silly idea made when Xelqua was around 14, back when founding a whole universe felt like a dream. 

Xelqua stopped, looked up and said, "Does everyone else already know?.. What is it?"

The Head grinned, sharp teeth glittering from the dim light the walls emitted. "The circle has decided that it's time for you to go, Xelqua."

His stomach dropped. This was definitely not what he expected, at all. Xelqua chuckled nervously. "Time for me to go? What do you mean? This is a joke, right?"

"Xelqua," the Watcher next to the Head piped up, "What the Head means is that you're not one of the Watchers anymore. We've collectively decided that you no longer deserve to be a 'God'."

Xelqua sharply inhaled. He should've known this was coming. He barely followed any of the rules he enforced and sprinkled his power everywhere like Halloween candy. Yet, he couldn't- didn't want to leave. The Watchers were his family, who he was.

"Do you think I could have a second chance? I know, I've done things I... shouldn't have. But, please, I can't go! Where would I go?! I don't have anyone.. or anything. I was one of the founders of the Watchers for heaven's sake! I... I promise I'll change. Just.. Give me a chance, please." Xelqua pleaded, his playful demeanour slowly devolving into something desperate.

"Xelqua. You’re right as you are indeed one of the founders. However, we've given you many chances to take back your actions and yet you always act out. You've caused chaos in many of the planets you've formed. You may be what we call family but we can no longer afford to keep you around." The Head said, darkly.

"W-Wait! The worlds I've formed! I've made so many, they must be more than half of what's in our universe! Without me, It'll collapse! That's surely a reason to keep me around for a little longer, right?" Xelqua said, his voice straining in desperation. He wasn't sure why he thought that would work at all. After all, the only thing keeping him afloat was the power he held. Clearly, the circle had decided that wasn't enough.

"Xelqua, we've gone over this. We won't rip all of your power away from you or kill you, that would be an even worse decision for the universe. However, you can't be with us anymore. You know we'll find a replacement for you eventually."

"But-"

"Xelqua. Enough." The Head growled, almost shouting.

Xelqua shrank back. He could feel the stupid, stupid, tears forming in his eyes. He didn't think the consequences of his own actions would come back and bite him this badly.

The Head cleared their throat. "Since we are some of your closest and only family members, we will allow you to take one special souvenir from home with you on your journey. You have until tomorrow to decide what object this will be."

A beat of silence passes.

"Any questions?"

Xelqua pressed his lips into a thin line, blinking away warm tears that were threatening to spill over and carefully considering his options before asking, "Where am I going, exactly?..."

The Head pauses, thinking before coming up with an answer with a sly smile. "You will be going to LIFE."

"Oh."

Great, just great. LIFE just had to be one of the most jacked-up worlds Xelqua's ever made! He hadn't thought of a unique idea when making the world and had just thrown in some people, waited till they started a community, and twisted the mindsets of the leaders so it would become a dystopian nightmare. Death games every year or two and everything! He hasn't even checked up on the world since he's added this feature called 'Reborns'. He didn't even exactly remember what it added and how it affected citizens.

"If there is nothing else, you shall go back to your quarters. Come back here tomorrow at 15:00 on the dot and you will be sent on your way." The Head said, gesturing him and all the other Watchers out of the room.

Xelqua sighed gloomily, quickly nodding before dragging himself up and out of the meeting room.

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

When he woke up, it was 7:30. Xelqua nearly convinced himself it was a normal day, till he remembered it wasn't.

He has a list of things he needs to do today before time is up. He mentally recites them in his head.

1. Eat Breakfast
2. Try to not cry. Fail, probably
3. Look at the stuff he's owned for billions of billions of years
4. Cry again, probably
5. Check the major planets one more time
6. Finish the back of his castle... optional
7. Eat lunch
8. Pack away all his things into boxes to be disposed of by the other watchers
9. Choose 'special item'
10. Go to the meeting room, have half of his power drained away, and then be thrown into LIFE

...

Yeah, that seemed like a good plan.

Xelqua gets up and walks to the dining hall like it's any other day, picking up his favourites and sitting down in one of the chairs before eating half of it. He wasn't able to get all of it down without wanting to hurl it up later. Hopefully, he doesn't. That would be unpleasant.

Number one has been completed. He grabs a bottle of water, just in case he gets thirsty.

Xelqua goes back to his room, lays in bed and stares at the ceiling for an hour. Or maybe two. Despite expecting it, the tears never came. Xelqua just felt.. numb? It was a bit weird. He guessed he was just too used to cracking jokes and spending hours building empires from the ground up. Unfortunately, that'll never happen again. He laughs pitifully at himself.

Number two was crossed off the list. Xelqua wouldn't count it as a success or a failure. He also isn't in the mood to think too deeply about it.

Xelqua gets up, taking a quick glance in the mirror at himself. His electric purple eyes were heavy, and his dirty brown hair was messy. Did the swirls of white in his eyes evaporate or was it just his imagination? The wings that should be covering his eyes, almost in a modest fashion, were instead folded at the side of his head. The other pairs were doing the same. The heavy cloak, littered with glitter that represented stars, was all wrinkly and honestly felt weird to wear at the moment. Under the cloak was a purple core. It gouged out a hole in his chest and took its place as a heart. He was able to hide the core, but he doesn't do it frequently.

It served as a great reminder that he was one of the first, if not the first, Watcher. It served a greater reminder not to make the same mistake he made all those years ago.

Xelqua barely recognized himself in the mirror. He should fix that up before he leaves.

Xelqua peers around his room, opening old files about some of the oldest planets and stars that he created. He takes the time to tidy everything up. His heart felt heavy, knowing that he'd never see any of this ever again in his pitiful, immortal life. Will he even be immortal without his powers? Who knows.

After spending what felt like ages tidying everything almost obsessively, he feels the tears building up in his eyes again. How he wishes he could stay forever.

Thirty minutes later, he checks off three and four off his mental list.

Xelqua leaves his quarters, his room, and what feels like his home. 

He shakes his head, heading down to his working quarters. There in the room, soft, purple holograms flickered, displaying thousands of stars and planets. He takes a bit of time to look through it all, making sure they're all stable. Surprisingly, he didn't feel as sorrowful as he thought he'd be; and for some reason, he feels like he's forgetting to check one though.

Eh, I'm just being a biiit paranoid.

He smiles, despite not feeling too much greater. He hopes that the citizens of the many planets he kept through the years don't go through too much when he leaves. He checks off number five, his spirits slightly lifted.

Xelqua goes over his mental list, checking what was next.

Oh.

He groans, but he might as well finish the castle. Not like anyone else would anyway. He sits down in the office chair, letting it spin once, twice, before stopping it with his foot and pulling up the hologram of the castle with a flick of his wrist.

He spends exactly 1 hour finishing the back. It's quite rushed as the time of his departure was nearing but it's good enough for now. He submits it to the Head Watcher with the simple message of ';)' and checks off number six.

Xelqua looks at the lunch menu for the day. Turns out, it's nothing he feels like eating right now. He quickly crosses off number seven.

Maybe I'll get something to eat in LIFE..?

He goes back to his room, looking at the tidied files and items. Using a bit of magic, he summons a heap of boxes, all manifested using his power. Xelqua doesn't think about whether they'll disappear when he's gone. Not like he cares anyway.

Xelqua spends an hour and ten minutes shoving all his stuff into the translucent boxes. He checks off number eight.

While putting his stuff away, he spots a necklace. A pendant hangs off of the silver chain. Xelqua recognizes the pendant to be made out of obsidian. He doesn't recall ever making or buying the necklace but he decides to use it as his special item. It reminds him of the vastness of space. Considering himself and all the other Watchers, this necklace most likely had some sort of wacky spell put on it.

He checks off number nine.

Realizing the time, he yelps and scrambles to fix up his looks. His hair is hastily combed back to its normal hairstyle. Under the cloak, he removes some pieces of the Watcher uniform, making it seem more like a casual fit. Hopefully, without the major bits of the outfit, people won't recognize him as a Watcher.

Xelqua glances at the time before hurriedly running as fast as his legs can carry him, the many pairs of wings he had, unfortunately, weighing him down.

He makes it to the meeting room, panting heavily.

Xelqua mentally checks off number ten as he lumbers into the room.

The Head Watcher is there, watching him as he heaves himself into the chair across from the Head.

"You've made it on time." The Head muses.

"I did." Xelqua grins, sitting up straighter.

"Good." the Head says, crossing their legs. "Well then, I presume you've chosen an object, less you already hate us all now?"

Xelqua nods his head, proudly holding up his obsidian pendant, the silver sparkling in the light when he lifts it. "Found this nifty obsidian pendant. I decided it to be my object of choice."

"Very well.” The Head says, nodding in acknowledgement. “It is time for you to go now, Watcher."

Xelqua nods, less enthused. He watches as the Head stands up and opens a secret chamber that literally no one has ever told him about. He helped to build the foundation of this place from the ground up, how did he not know of this?! However, he doesn't have much time to think about it as the Head walks through to the room on the other side. Xelqua follows quickly after the taller Watcher, stopping before a massive portal.

It was beautiful. The portal shimmered in swirls of purple and was decorated finely, with small, glittering orbs floating around the metal which formed the frame. It glowed brightly, almost blinding him when he tried to walk closer. His headwings snapped into action, shielding his eyes from the purple glow as he stepped back.

"When did you have time to build this without me?!" Xelqua asks with a grin.

He doesn't get a response, though.

Instead, the Head held a hand open towards him. Gesturing for his cloak.

Xelqua sighs, taking it off. The weight of the clothing article was quickly lifted off his shoulders, which feels quite relieving when he thinks more about it.

The Head puts one hand over his eyes. Xelqua presumes this is where most of his powers would be reduced or even removed entirely.

He waits, about to say something when a sharp pain radiates through his whole body. Xelqua yelps, grinding his teeth down in pain. Though, the pain was gone almost as soon as it started. He wonders what powers were weakened and taken away. He's sure he'll find out soon enough.

Xelqua looks down at the necklace in his palm, which he was still clutching. Gingerly, he puts it around his neck and steps toward the portal, trying to keep his headwings from shielding his eyes again. Soon, he would be in the world of LIFE. He started wondering how he'd even live there.

When Xelqua is about a step away from entering the portal, he hides his wings, almost sighing in relief from the realization that he still has that ability, but quickly lets them dissolve away for the time being. Who knows what the people of LIFE were like. He knew most citizens didn't have wings but who knows what happened after all that time of not checking anyway.

Oh. That's what he was forgetting earlier.

He softly shrugs to himself, deciding that it was too late to worry over that now before hearing the Head Watcher walk up behind him. Xelqua doesn't turn around but he can hear the Head say something;

"Goodbye, Grian. Thank you for your time."

Xelqua smiled at his name, which was weird because normally everyone used that name to address him.

He didn't have much time to think about it though, because he steps through the portal and a blinding white flash takes over his vision.

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

All of a sudden, he's falling, and fast. Xelqua screams, flailing around in the air. The ground was quickly approaching and he realized he couldn't open his wings in time. He knew that the Watchers wouldn't just drop him off to be killed, the Head said that themself. So he does the only reasonable thing that he can think of at the moment.

He stretches his arms out to try to slow his fall and closes his eyes, bracing for impact.

"This is gonna hurt when I wake up.." Xelqua mumbles to himself.

He grins at his remark before a loud CRACK! Rings through the air as his head hits something that feels like concrete.

His ears start ringing and an intense pain splinters through his head. He opens his eyes, vision blurry as he looks at his surroundings. Xelqua isn't able to catch much other than what seems to be a park, annnddd yep! He was lying on solid concrete.

Xelqua's vision starts to flicker out. The last thing he sees is a tall, muscular man running towards him in shock... Maybe? He wasn't sure. Xelqua's head hurts really bad and if he had a choice, he'd rather die here.

Then, before he can get another thought in, it all goes black.

Chapter Text

...What the hell?!

Scar was currently what seemed about 15 feet away from a random guy who was lying on the sidewalk he was just about to walk across. He had come back from 8 continuous hours of tracking down and fighting The Scorpion as his vigilante alter-ego, HotGuy. When Scar had finished up his self-appointed work for the day, he decided to go on a late-night walk at his favorite non-profit park. A quick relaxing activity that would give him a quick break before going back to his apartment to rest.

Watching a blonde dude fall out of who-knows-where and not immediately bleeding out and dying was not what he was planning to do today. However, as the good person he was, he wasn't going to be a bystander and do nothing.

Scar jogs over and inspects the guy on the ground. He was wearing a dark purple skin-tight tank top with dark black sweats. There were various bits of gold hardware, including on the belt, neck, and a few bits on the pants. The hardware all resembled four-point stars. A necklace with a black stone hung off his neck. Something about the outfit rang a bell, however, Scar couldn't exactly pinpoint it.

Weirdly, the man didn't seem to have any major cuts or bruises or massive gashes from falling from what seemed to be quite a height.

"Sir," Scar called out, "you still alive down there?"

No response, of course. If this man was still alive, he was definitely out cold. Scar almost considered kicking the limp body but decided against it. That would definitely be immoral, he decided, despite not having many morals left. It's hard to have any when you have a 'job' like his.

He leans over and checks the man's pulse. His heart was still beating.

Scar wasn't in the mood to drag this man all the way to the hospital. He'd have to know this guy personally and fill out pages upon pages of paperwork. (At least he wouldn't need to pay the hospital bills.) So, he did the most reasonable thing he thought of at the time. He picks the man up bridal-style, walks the 30 minutes back to his car, and puts the man in the backseat, quickly clearing away any objects he stored back there.

He's about to start the car when he hears his phone buzz. Pulling the device out, Scar realizes that it's a message from his roommate, Gem.

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

Gem Tay (Gemini):

Gem Tay (Gemini):

scar, where are you? you promised takeout remember

Scar Goodtimes (HG):

Sorry Gem! Found random guy on the ground. Bringing him back in my car.

Gem Tay (Gemini):

WHAT

YOU CANT JUST BRING A STRANGER BACK SCAR

Scar Goodtimes (HG):

I knooowwww :( But he lowkey probs got a concussion. Maybe, I dunno he looks fine. The dude fell from a lampost or something lol.

Gem Tay (Gemini):

what if he isnt a reborn tho. or if he finds out who we are. the guy'll tell the government, scar.

Scar Goodtimes (HG):

Too late, lols! I've already got him in the back of my car. ;)

Oop he's waking up. Somehow. Just hide your stuff when I get back. Don't make me put him back down on the ground :<

Gem Tay (Gemini):

if we get arrested, i'm blaming you.

wait, if he fell from a lampost how is he not dead

scar

scar????

SCAR

ANSWER ME

WHO EVEN IS THIS DUDE???

Read 15:54.

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

Scar shoves his phone back into his pocket before starting the car. The stranger stirs and groans but quickly stops moving again. Scar whistles in relief before pressing down on the throttle, starting his journey back to the apartment.

Gem does have a point though. If this guy finds out that he and Gem are vigilantes or Reborns unregulated by the Government, saving this citizen might as well be a one-way ticket to jail or even execution. He shivers at the thought of standing outside the government building, bright white lights shining down on him as he's killed in some violent way.

As he shakes off the feeling thought of being killed, Scar realizes that there are only two beds in the apartment he lives in and to be completely honest, due to Scar's lack of a job and Gem working a 9-17 whenever she could, which was barely, he and Gem combined barely made a living. (No one pays people actively going against the government and harming their little heroes, alright?)

There's no way the two of them are buying a bed for a stranger. He supposes that the guy could just rest up and then go back to wherever he lived. Hopefully.

All of a sudden, a disheveled "Where am I.. Who are you?!" comes from the backseat. It scares Scar so badly that he slams on the breaks, barely stopping himself from swerving into a light pole. Luckily, the streets were particularly empty as most civilians were still working.

Scar shakily exhaled a breath he didn't know he was holding, tilting his head down as his hands gripped the steering wheel for dear life. After 30 seconds, Scar slowly straightens up and almost violently whips around to face the stranger.

"Why hello there! You are currently in the back of my 2015 black Honda." He says, grinning brightly. Scar holds back a smirk from creeping onto his face when he sees the blondie jump.

Scar gets a good look at the person's face for the first time. The stranger has dark brown eyes, almost black, with a few sparkling undertones of bright purple, which seemed to shift and swirl when the person blinked.

Pretty.

The stranger's eyebrows furrow in confusion, before slowly nodding in realization.

"Erm... Okay.." The stranger, which he dubbed Swirly-Eye Man takes in his surroundings for a second. "Where are we going, exactly? What happened?"

"Found ya on the ground. Seemed you suffered a pretty bad fall so I decided to help you!" Scar's grin widened. "I'm taking you to my apartment because I have no idea where you live, by the way."

There's a beat of silence before Scar starts driving again, choosing to ignore the dirty look the driver across from him gave him. Swirly-Eye Man leans back for a second, before coming up with another question.

"You're just going to take me, a stranger, back to your apartment? What if I secretly have a gun on me?"

Scar considers this for a second before snickering. "I doubt you'd lay a scratch on me, to be frank. Also, if you were going to kill me, I'd probably be dead by now."

"True.."

Another beat of silence passes. An unpleasant, awkward tension fills the air.

"Hmm.. How about I ask you one of my own questions?" Scar asks hesitantly, trying to break the silence.

"Shoot." 

"Why did you fall in the first place? What in the world were you doing?" He pauses, and a wave of confusion passes through him. "And, how are you not dead? Or critically injured at least."

Swirly should of suffered some really bad head injury or something along the lines. Scar swore he could have heard the Crack! of bone hitting pure concrete from a mile away. The way the stranger just walked the fall off like it was nothing was strange and also immensely confusing. To be fair, he's met death before, but this guy hadn't been in The Games so he couldn't have been revived.

The stranger falls silent. It takes a minute or two before he finally responds. "I was... Climbing a tree, let's say. I misstepped and fell. Also, I guess I just got lucky. Not sure how I escaped with only a few scratches, to be honest."

"Ah, I see," Scar says dubiously. "And why were you climbing a tree?"

"Don't get anywhere to live. Was just trying to pass the time, I guess."

Oh. That makes a lot more sense. Except-

"If you've got nowhere to live, what's with all the flashy clothing?" Scar prompts. No homeless person casually wears expensive clothing around town.

"It's not mine. A clothing store was throwing some stuff out and I managed to get my hands on some good, cleanish clothing."

"Okay." Good enough for the time being. Some people gotta do what they gotta do. 

He looks ahead at the apartment complex steadily approaching them. "We're almost there."

"Alright."

After 5 more minutes of awful silence, Scar parks his car and leads Swirly-Eye Man to his apartment. He can see him side-eyeing broken railings and the chipping paint on the walls as they make their way up the stairs. After a bit of climbing, they make it to Door 3 of the 5th floor. Scar gently raps on the door and he can hear a voice say, "Coming!" behind it.

A few shuffling noises could be heard, and then Gem, in an oversized sweater opens the door. "Hey, Scar!"

She eyes Swirly up and down before pulling them both into the apartment. "This the guy you found?"

"Yep- Oh my gosh- Jellie!" Scar bends down and quickly gives the grey-striped cat a few pats on the head before standing up again.

Gem doesn't seem to be paying attention to Scar's cat-petting. Instead, she's walking around the stranger with a hint of suspicion in her eyes. After a while of examining him like a hunk of meat for sale, she sighs and invites him to sit down in a chair she seemingly pulled out of nowhere.

"Scar, what's his name?" Gem asks gesturing to Swirly.

"Uh.." Oops. Scar totally forgot to ask that! Dang it, he was definitely gonna get reprimanded now. By his own roommate of all people! "I dunno... Ask him himself."

Gem sighs again before turning to Swirly-Eye Man. "What's your name? Because Scar apparently forgot to ask. His name is Scar, in case you haven't realized by now."

"I noticed. My name's X-" The stranger stops for a second. He clears his throat before continuing. "Grian. My name's Grian."

"I see... Very well. Grian it is then. You hungry? Scar's going to buy takeout in a minute." She says placing a hand on Grian's shoulder with a smile. Gem quickly turns around, her smile dropping for a second to glare at Scar.

"Okay, okay! I'll buy it. What do you two want?"

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

After a warm meal, (and $50 down the drain), Gem starts interrogating Swi- Grian again. Scar sighs, letting Jellie jump onto his lap as Grian is poked and prodded with the questions Scar had previously asked, plus other wild ones after them.

"What's your opinion on Taylor Swift?!" Gem shouted passionately, shaking Grian's shoulders.

"Who's Taylor Swift-" Grian asks. Clear mistake. Scar thinks, laughing as he watches him being shaken even harder.

"YOU DON'T KNOW WHO TAYLOR SWIFT IS?!" Gem gasps, grabbing her phone and opening YouTube. "Oh my Watchers! I have sooo much to show you!"

Four hours and many, many Taylor Swift albums later, Scar checks his phone again. 20:30.

He starts absent-mindedly scrolling on Twitter before abruptly stopping. Wait, what was the last question Gem just asked?

"Okay, on a more serious note, do you know what a Reborn is?" Gem asks, leaning close to Grian, her voice barely audible from where Scar was sitting.

"Woah- we're talking about Reborns?" Scar says, shooting up from his spot on the couch.

Gem glares at Scar, her eyes telling him to not say a word of what he wanted to say. She turns back to Grian, signaling to him to keep talking.

"Reborns.." Grian presses his lips into a straight line, seemingly thinking hard. "Yeeeaaah? I've heard of them. I've, erm.. Never seen one before, I don't think."

Gem goes silent for a second, frowning. Scar pipes up for her. "You were either born today or you hit your head really hard when you fell out of that tree. Reborns are the freaks that were chosen to go through the death games every year." Good. Even if calling Reborns freaks stung a little, all that mattered was that he was playing the average citizen role pretty well.

Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Gem giving him a subtle thumbs-up.

Scar turns his attention back to the man sitting behind him. It seems like something clicked in Grian's head as he starts nodding.

"Yes, I know what you're talking about now. They're the other half of the population that have all the... non-human features, right?" Grian asks, clearly knowing the answer himself but checking anyway. Gem nods. "Alright... What are you implying? Are you asking if I'm one?"

Scar gasps.

"What? No! Of course not. That's ridiculous." Gem says, shaking her head quickly.

The three of them sit in silence for a few minutes, each of them waiting for the other to start talking again.

After it became clear that no one had the intent of saying anything else, she checked her phone, visibly disappointed that it was still so early into the night. "Well, I gotta do some work for my job. I won't be coming out again until morning so I suppose this is goodnight."

"Oh alright! Goodnight Gem!" Scar says, happily waving as she goes into her room. Grian waves too, despite only knowing a bit about her.

"I gotta run too. Got some... private stuff to do, sorry!" Scar hums, looking around the apartment before spotting the couch he was previously sitting on. "You can sleep on the couch or something. I won't force you, though. Do whatever.. Just don't break anything, yeah?"

"No problem." Grian mumbles. He's left standing in the middle of the living room as Scar walks off into his room, shooting the blondie some finger guns before closing the door and opening the Messenger app on his phone.

Gem, in two minutes, had already sent five messages. All about different missions, she'd located while Scar was dragging an unconscious Grian back to the apartment, he presumes.

Scar puts his phone on the charging cable and spends the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, thinking about the past events that had gone down. There was a nagging feeling that something was off about their new guest. He wasn't sure what or how but he'd get to the bottom of it eventually. Scar smirks to himself. He always had.

Chapter Text

Grian sighed as the door closed in his face, listening to the shuffle of what seemed to be bedsheets before going back to the sad couch he was going to rest on for the night.

He needed time to think about his day... Kind of. Not really.

You see, Grian, before announcing his presence to Scar in the back of Scar's Honda, had already been awake. He had curiously peeked over the other man's shoulder and viewed his texts with Gem, realizing that his two new roommates were Reborns and running from the government or something along those lines.

He had re-grasped the subject of Reborns while Gem berated him with questions, specifically when she asked him what a reborn was and Scar served the definition to him on a silver platter. Of course, Scar had to keep up the act of a citizen and called Reborns freaks. It took almost all of Grian’s power not to laugh or even giggle a little bit when Scar said it.

But thinking about the past would have to come later. With this newfound information from his roommates and a few resurfaced memories, he now remembered what Reborn was.

A million years ago, he had created LIFE as a world to add to a star that had been planetless for a few hundred million years. When creating LIFE, he couldn’t think of any unique ideas for this world. So, he let his impulsive thoughts carry him along as he worked to create the most twisted leaders and governments the universe had ever seen. 

After turning LIFE into the wicked dystopian community you would typically see in a novel, Grian had placed Reborns into this world as an experiment but also a source of entertainment for himself. Reborns were essentially hybrids of some sort of living organism. Citizens affected were given the features and powers of the creature as well. For example, a feline Reborn would typically harbour excellent night vision and a pair of ears or a tail. 

The Reborns were originally introduced into LIFE to see what the government would do with them. Turns out, they decided to organise a group including all of the more powerful Reborns and put them through torturous death games as Reborns were seen as monsters and outcasts to society. How swell.

Still, Grian wasn't sure what role Scar and Gem played in this world. Hell, he barely had a single idea what was going on! All he knew was that one, his roommates would probably be executed on the spot if found out and two, the economy is in shambles and the rent was quite literally the opposite of cheap.

Now that he thinks about it, he's probably broker than the average 6-year-old. If he wants to continue freeloading in this apartment, he should start earning some currency.

Grian walks over to the couch, sitting down and taking in the apartment around him for the first time since he got here. Behind the couch, there was the kitchen. A few pictures and notes were scattered on the fridge, held up by some cheap-looking magnets. He would have to look at those later. 

The sink was surprisingly clean with not a single dirty dish, probably religiously cleaned by one of the residents of this place. Sitting above the sink, one of the only windows he's seen in this complex is there, the moon softly glowing through the glass panes. A coffee machine sat on the countertop next to an old stove which had a metal holder that held a couple dozen different coffee creamers.

To the right of the kitchen was a hall that split into two rooms. Grian had to physically get up and quietly tip-toe to the section to get a good look at the area. To his disappointment, the place was void of any interesting objects except for a singular calendar hanging up on the wall. 

On each month of the calendar, a man who Grian swore he'd seen before poses intimately in swim trunks. It seems like Gem wasn't exactly happy with the photos pasted on the calendar as most of the man's face was covered in blank sticky notes. To be fair, whoever was on this calendar was fairly attractive. Grian finds himself wondering how much one of these would cost, which makes him frown at himself.

Grian shakes his head, pulling his eyes away from the calendar to walk over to the fridge. He still wanted to check out those notes he'd seen on the metal surface. Sadly, nothing of too much importance seemed to be hanging up there. A few drawings of people he didn't know, wanted posters with their faces violently scribbled out in black pen, and weirdly, a burning ship.

 However, one sticky note caught his eye. It seemed to be a conversation between Gem and Scar, noticeable by their different handwriting.

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

                                                                                                           ┎

      Scar, did you see? Joel won. He died at the end.

       I know. He was a good person, can't believe he'll be a target now.

      He barely beat Ren though. I wonder what would happen if he

      would have won instead.

       I feel kind of bad for Scott The Moth. He has to room with Joel now.

       It's The Moth. Why would we care?

       Hey, Scar. I know we haven't written on this note for a bit,

     but Joel just got registered while I was at work. I sent you a screenshot.

      I saw. He's registered as The Scorpion, yes? I think he's the first arachnid

Reborn to corrupt lol.

                                                                                                                               ┛

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

Grian stared at this note for a while. He had gained all the knowledge he needed and absolutely nothing at the same time. From what he understood, a guy named Joel had won the most recent death game. Something about winning had made Joel 'corrupt'. Who knows what that meant? Also, Joel's new roommate with an edgy alias might be in danger, or maybe is already dead. Who knows how long ago this note was from?

After opening multiple drawers and trying to find hints as to what the 'corruption' could be or how it affected people, (only to be greeted with canned foods and a bottle of wine), Grian decided that it was time he went to sleep. It wasn't very late but he didn't feel like walking around the apartment for much longer as nothing good was coming from doing so other than that peculiar sticky note pasted on the fridge.

He walks over back to the couch, quietly laying down on it. His mind zipped from one topic to another, trying to decipher everything he'd learned all at once. Grian rubbed his temples, urging the thoughts to go away while curling up on the rather uncomfortable couch. After 10 minutes, he slowly fell into a light, peaceful sleep.

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

Grian wakes up 6 hours later to a loud bang in the apartment. He springs up, getting ready to fight or run for his life. When he spins towards the direction of the sound, it turns out to be... Scar and Gem except dressed in clothing that made them look like they were about to kidnap someone. Gem was in a flowy bodysuit with green wing-like shapes splattered all over the fabric.

Scar wore a similar bodysuit, except his was skin-tight, the black stretchy fabric showing off Scar's muscles. Orange and Blue accents dotted his outfit but in an arrow-ish shape instead of Gem's almost dragonfly-like shape. A pair of shield sunglasses covered his eyes, holographic and looked like the kind to reflect into a bright light when taken a photo of.

He didn't even realize anything weird until his eyes floated to their backs. Massive black wings splayed from Scar's back while nimble, translucent green wings stretched from Gem's. Gem, noticeably had two pairs of wings instead of the usual one. If Grian had to guess, these were their Reborn features. It still didn't explain why they were in outfits that probably cost more than anyone could afford on a whim.

Scar was half bent over, hand reaching for his phone which fell on the floor. He stared at Grian, mouth agape as Gem covered her mouth, still as a statue.

"Erm.. hi?" Grian tried, shoving his hands in his pockets as the two people in front of him stared at himself, then at each other, then at him again.

"Why hello there, Grian," Scar said, a faulty but infectious grin spreading onto his face.

"Shh! Scar, be quiet! Maybe if we stand still enough he won't notice us standing here." Gem said, shoving Scar lightly as she shuffled behind Scar's wings.

"Stop. Don't you think he's unusually calm though? He's not screaming or calling the police or something along those lines." The taller man said, anxiously carding his fingers through his hazelnut hair.

"You're right..!" Gem takes a step towards Grian before faltering and stepping back again. "Grian..? You seem weirdly calm about the situation you're in... Well... In right now. How come you aren't calling the police on us?"

"Because y'knoww ... we're Reborns and all that jazz." Scar chimes in, leaning against the wall as he checked his phone for any cracks.

Oh.

Unfortunately, Grian lacked a reasonable answer to this question. He either breaks these two's trust by saying he was snooping around their house, explains his whole Watcher situation, or..

He fumbles for words before landing on a solid sentence. "It's no worries. I'm a Reborn too."

Oh no.

What had he just said?

Scar's jaw practically drops to the floor, almost dropping his phone for a second time. "What? What do you mean? You were going along with the 'all Reborns suck' act just a few hours ago! Wait- oooohhh.. "

Scar seemingly had understood whatever lie Grian came up with on the spot. Gem, however, seemed a bit more suspicious. "Reborn..? If you're a Reborn, then where were you during all the games? How come you weren't a participant? How come you haven’t been locked up by the government?"

Grian had just dug a grave for himself using his own words, he realizes. Since he's already said what he's said and can no longer take his words back, he supposes he should play along for as long as he can. "I just hid pretty well. No one suspects a homeless dude on the side of the road."

Gem nods. "Makes sense, I guess."

Scar glaces at Grian before checking his phone and shooting up from the wall he was leaning against. " Ohmygosh- Gem, we have to go, like now. "

Gem yelps and grabs the apartment key before grabbing Scar by the wrist. "Sorry, Grian. We gotta run. I- uhm.. We'll explain when we're back. Bye!" She wrestled open the door before sprinting outside. Scar takes the opportunity to quickly whip around and wink at Grian before literally jumping over the stair railings. 

Grian blinks, wondering what just happened. He sits back on the couch, staring at the wall in stunned silence before formulating a plan. He had just basically botched up his whole life by randomly saying that he was a Reborn. So now, Grian has to act like one, and he better do a good damn job at it, less he wants to be kicked out. 

He quickly manifests a phone, pressing the power button on the side and entering his passcode. Grian groans when he realizes that not only does he not have any connection to the internet, but he is also on 20%. Grian supposes that's what he gets for never using his phone anyway.

After playing around with the phone for a few minutes, he figures out this thing called 'cellular data', a green icon with bars on it. Using it, it finally gave him access to good ‘ole Google Chrome.

There were a few steps to pretending to be one of these Reborns, he decided. Grian had to choose a good organism to become, study up about it, and then morph into a Reborn. Checking the door one last time, he finally lets his wings show, sighing in satisfaction as they open up around him. Grian wanted one last chance to not be constantly using up his energy on hiding his Watcher elements before committing to doing whatever this was.

A few minutes of scrolling later, Grian had landed on the perfect organism -- or insect, one could say.

The Jewel Wasp .

According to a government website, Jewel Wasps, or Emerald Cockroach Wasps were a kind of wasp which could practically mind-control cockroaches. Reborns were reportedly able to control any insects for a set period, turning a victim into a submissive, brain-dead creature while under the influence of the venom. If Grian were honest, it wasn't too far off of what he normally does as a Watcher anyway, which leads to less effort and more energy in the long run. The wings would also be easy to replicate as all he had to do was manipulate the shape of the top two pairs, then hide his third pair and headwings. However, he quickly found a glaring error in his plan.

Grian realized that his manipulative abilities on his own body didn't work very well. The casual hiding-unhiding wings were easy as ever, but for some reason, summoning new limbs and changing shapes took ages. When he had attempted to turn his wings into that of a wasp's, instead of an immediate transformation, it worked painfully slowly from one tip of his wing to the other. At this rate, getting the two pairs of wings and the stinger would take about a week. So, he quickly tried to find an excuse. A cover-up, if you will.

Online, in the dark corners of the internet, he had found multiple sellers who sold potions which claimed to hide Reborn parts, some lasting up to a month.

So, Grian devised a plan. He would tell the two he was a Jewel Wasp Reborn when they got back. Then proceeded to explain that he had gotten his hands on one of these potions to hide himself from the government to avoid the LIFE games. If he made it believable enough, hopefully, it would all go down smoothly.

As soon as he finished, Grian’s phone decided to die on him. Just great, how in the world was he supposed to pass time now?

He stands up and rummages around the apartment before he finally finds a charger that works with his phone. Grian sighs in relief before plugging it in and going back to his rickety couch-bed to finally take a proper nap.

Chapter Text

Scar— HotGuy, AKA HG, was currently soaring through the night, trailing pretty far behind Gemini due to the dragonfly Reborn having thin wings which carried her unfairly fast when she flew. Occasionally, the two would have to duck under a tree or into a dusty alleyway because of civilians walking along the streets... At two in the morning. It wasn't a huge deal though as the two would get to their destination, The Border, in only a few minutes.

His plan was simple, sneakily ambush the Corrupteds, hold one hostage, (maybe The Scorpion since he was the newest), and force them to spill info about their most likely sinister and immoral plans. Then, he and Gemini would fly back to their apartment and get Grian to reveal more about his supposed Rebound-ness. If Scar was honest, he was exceptionally excited to see what he would have to say about it.

After 4 minutes of flying, then ducking under something, and then flying again, Gemini signaled HotGuy to come over next to her. When he did, she opened her mouth to say something, before cutting herself off, gasping and plummeting down to the ground, dragging him down with her. She hit the brakes on her wings inches above the ground and wrestled him behind a bush.

"HG!" Gemini whispered, pausing and glancing behind him before continuing. "Sorry if that was kind of abrupt. I was going to tell you that the Border had gained new defenses but, Pearl- ... The Lone Wolf is roaming around outside. She almost spotted us."

HotGuy wanted to laugh at Gemini's slip but made a point of ignoring it for the time being, as being spotted by The Lone Wolf wouldn’t be worth a good laugh.

"Ah, that's alright. As long as she didn't actually see us, it's not a problem." HotGuy peeks over the bush, staying low enough so his wings don't get spotted if LW was really patrolling out there. Unfortunately, she was. There The Wolf stood, walking around the edge of The Border with her pet wolf, Tilly, not far behind. Today, she was wearing a crimson shoulder cape, the fabric torn up and bloodied from what seemed to be an explosion. Speaking of explosions, her whole frontside was absolutely demolished. A gaping hole was stretching from her chest to where her belly button would traditionally be, white bones sticking out of incinerated flesh and what seemed to be the Wolf's intestines partially spilling out. Her sclera were dark and her pupils dilated like she'd hit a good high; the whole nine yards. A perfect encapsulation of her death in Double Life, frozen forever. It never failed to make HotGuy gag in one way or another.

He knew for a fact that she was guarding the community building that was specifically made to hold the Corrupteds. In the distance, he could see it clear as day. A massive mansion lined the horizon, and each section and wing of the place split into four major parts. From the multiple years of hunting these monsters, he could recognize each part from memory. The largest part belonged to the Tiger Moth due to him being the first winner. The structure was light blue with dark, inky waters spilling into an equally disgusting pond. A rotting axolotl waded near the waters, its flesh practically melting off.

 Second was The Reduviidae's or The Assassin's tower. Covered in glittering clocks and sharp edges. A banner hung from the front of the tower. Not anything majorly noteable, in HotGuy's opinion. 

Third was The Lone Wolf's Tower, isolated away from all the others. Multiple dog collars with names engraved below decorated the walls, each representing a dog that was killed in her time as a winner. 

Fourth, and the newest was The Scorpion's. It looked particularly normal compared to the others. It was simply a part of the mansion but extremely overgrown. A black Cadillac was bashed into the building, causing a fire that never seemed to spread or go out.

HotGuy looks at Gemini, whose eyes were locked on The Wolf. She was making her way over to their bush, looking around every few seconds. Gemini takes out one of her daggers, getting ready to incapacitate her in some way. However, the dagger makes a slight Shink! noise when it slides out of its sheath. HotGuy tenses, wings flaring up softly as he reaches for his bow and an arrow, just in case.

Unfortunately, The Wolf's sharp ears were not to be underestimated. She freezes in her tracks. The pairs of wolf ears atop her head perk up, slightly rotated toward Gemini's general direction. Gemini looks at him, covering her mouth as both of them held their breath.

All HotGuy can do is crouch and pray to the Watchers above that The Wolf didn't think too much of the noise.

"Tilly, darling," The Lone Wolf says, dragging her words out slowly. "Are there any intruders with us tonight?"

Tilly sniffs the air for a few seconds before turning its head in the pair's direction. The Wolf smiles, her canines glinting in the moonlight. Suddenly, her head snaps around, a soft Crack! heard as one of the bones in her neck undeniably break from turning her head too violently and far around her shoulder.

HotGuy cringes at the head turn, getting ready to launch himself into the air. However, The Wolf gets there first. She unsheathes her sword before launching herself at the bush.

"Hello. What a lovely surprise!" She growls before laughing almost manically. HotGuy shoots into action, flying into the sky and firing an arrow. She dodges and doesn't even flinch when the arrow combusts into flames behind her. 

Just as he's about to try his aim with another arrow, he realizes that Gemini is still on the ground, staring at The Wolf silently.

"Gemini! Get up!" He shouts as she zips behind Gemini. Gemini snaps out of whatever trance she was in and starts flapping her wings to try to carry herself off the ground. She gets about a foot off the ground when The Wolf leaps towards her, a grin stretched too wide across her face as the glow of wolf jaws manifests itself around Gemini's arm and bites down.

She screams, clutching her arm in pain as she flies into the air, the other hand holding a sharp dagger in a death grip. Gemini zips a few more feet off the ground, attempting to fly out of sight to get a good hit in. However, when she commits to the action of fighting, The Wolf casually ducks out of the way, the blade of the small knife only grazing her face instead of the deep slash intended.

"What's wrong, Gemini? I thought we had something special going on. You wouldn't kill your girlfriend, would you?" The Wolf chuckles, swinging her blade around to point at her pet. "Tilly dear, drag her out of the sky for me. "

HotGuy glances at Gemini, who currently looked like she regretted not bringing an actual blade today. What was he supposed to do? Shoot at The Wolf and that'll only enrage her dog further; shoot at Tilly and The Wolf will have both of their heads... Wait. Maybe if he...

He flies down, swooping down and firing at something behind The Wolf. The brunette laughs as it whizzes past her face. "HotGuy! Almost forgot you were here. That was quite a bad shot for someone as famous as you. Someone's washed u- Wait, what?"

The Wolf turns around, just as the arrow lodges Tilly's skull and explodes, stopping the wolf mid-jump as it tries to grasp at Gemini's wings. She screams, a shrill but horrifying sound.

" Tilly! No, no, no!"  The wolf shrieks, a hint of panic shooting through mismatched eyes. She looks up, growling like the last inch of humanity had been sucked out of her. "Oh... Oh, you've done it this time... First, you ruined my patrol, now you kill my precious Tilly. I can't believe you consider yourself a good person, you bastard! " The Wolf advances towards him, glare as cold as the netherite sword in her hands. HotGuy backs up, lifting his hands in false surrender before looking at Gemini, nodding in The Wolf's direction.

Gemini seems to get the cue because she soars high up into the air before plummeting down onto the crimson-hooded girl. "There's a reason why we had something special, Pearl!"

The dagger in Gemini's grip slices clean through The Wolf's arm, almost severing it from her shoulder completely. Blood pours from the barely attached arm like a twisted waterfall as The Wolf screams again. She breathes heavily before grabbing the loose limb and tearing it off, muscle and skin peeling away as she falls onto her knees. HotGuy gives Gemini a fist bump as she flies over, a strained smile on her face. Soon enough, The Wolf starts speaking again. "Argh! You- you- I can't believe you'd do this. I wasn't even- aiming for you, you psycho! I just wanted to have a friendly chat between us girls and I didn't want that bastard alive to see it!... I swear, once I catch you. I'll kill you." 

The Wolf's voice lowers to a mumble as she psychotically repeats, " I'll kill you... I'll kill you... I'll kill you. I'llkillyouI'llkillyouI'llkillyouI'llkillyou.. "

Gemini stares at The Wolf for one last second before saying, "C'mon HG, I doubt she's in the mood to say anything other than 'I'll kill you ' right now."

"Agreed! She gives me the creeps." He responded, launching into the air once more.

As soon as the two make it to the front of the mansion, they hear the annoying blare of sirens, which unfortunately means-

"Hey! Stop where you are!" A painfully familiar voice shouted from the other side of the Border. Upon turning around, HotGuy realized it was Solidarity, or Jimmy, or Timmy, or whatever. He was flapping his flaming wings gallantly while pointing at Gemini and Hotguy accusingly.

"Awh.. we've been caught, again." HotGuy sighs before waving to The Wolf who was still sitting on the ground. "She's fine! A severed arm is nothing compared to whatever her organs endured from that explosion a while back."

"You're- Erm.. You're probably right but you're still breaking the law, HotGuy! You too, Gemini!" Solidarity tried, his tail flicking in annoyance.

"You probably don't even want to be here, Jimmy! Just go home or something. You don't need to listen to whatever the government tells you. Go back to babysitting Tango!" Gemini said, putting her hands on her hips as HotGuy nodded in agreement. Apparently, Solidarity didn't like that as he rolled his eyes and started dialing up the other heroes.

"Tango. Yeah, sorry, I know it's three in the morning. Those rascals are trying to make my job complicated again, can you blow 'em up for me real quick?" He said, talking to a hologram that popped out of his wrist. Solidarity raised his eyebrows at the pair as Tango said something along the lines of 'Yeah, sure I guess. Just give me a minute and I'll be there.'

Tango. The Bombardier beetle, who could undoubtedly kill everyone in this general area right now. He had a short fuse and an explosive power, being able to explode basically anything at his will just by... doing it somehow. He was one of if not the most powerful Reborn in the world, which led the government to prize him like a shiny trophy. From what he'd heard, he was also paid the most, which doesn’t exactly matter when you’re a hero and get everything for free at places anyways. 

Apparently, one of Tango's biggest weaknesses is when he'd get really heated, (no pun intended) Tango would literally explode from anger, which usually led to HotGuy being extra gentle around him when they encountered each other. Solidarity was soon chosen as the one to ‘babysit’ him and keep him under control as the Phoenix couldn't exactly be burnt by any outrages. Now that he thought about it, he wasn’t sure if the Phoenix could be killed at all.

"HG. he's calling that dumb explosive guy, we should probably dash," Gemini said, tapping him on the shoulder.

"Yep, you're right. Alright, Solidarity! You win, we're leaving. Bye!" HotGuy called out, swooping up away from the Border and the hysterical Corrupted on the ground. The last thing he caught from Solidarity before he flew away as well was Jimmy thanking Tango for his help and telling him to go back to sleep.

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

When Scar and Gem finally made it back to the apartment, Grian was sitting on the couch, hastily brushing feathers off his pants. Scar didn't think much of it, he regularly left stray feathers here and there anyway.

"Hello there, Grian. Had a good sleep?" Scar asked, ruffling his hair.

"Don't touch me." He said, batting Scar's hand away. "Also, not really. You made me sleep on the couch, Scar."

"Hey... I didn't say you had to."

"So, you gonna explain where you went in superhero costumes at two in the gosh darn morning?" Grian asked, rolling his eyes and changing the subject.

"Rigghht . Well, we uhm-" Scar started, looking at Gem for approval before continuing. "Yeah, we're vigilantes. We're going against some evil stuff the government created."

"Oh. I see." Grian said, before turning around and inspecting the HotGuy calendar on the wall, then looking back at him. "Wait. Are you the mildly attractive guy on that calendar, Scar?"

Scar felt his face flush, he laughed in embarrassment and buried his head in his hands while Gem started wheezing next to him, patting Scar on his back.

"I'll take that as a yes. Anyways, erm-.. heh," Grian started laughing lightly too, which Scar found unreasonably cute, even after he called him out on the calendar business.

The room fell into a loop of gaining composure then bursting out in cacophonies of laughter again. After about 2 minutes, Scar had regained his dignity and finally broke the silence.

"Grian!" He prompted, "You said you were a Reborn, right? What kind are you? I'd totally see you as a parrot, to be honest." 

"I dunno, Scar. He seems more like a parasite as he wormed his way into staying here for free." Gem said with a bite of sarcasm. Grian gasped with a faux offense, putting his hand over his heart.

"To answer your question, I'm a Jewel Wasp," Grian said nonchalantly, leaning back into the couch he was sitting on.

"Woah! That's awesome!" Scar said excitedly, briefly noticing that Gem seemed quite shocked. He then realized he had literally zero idea what a Jewel Wasp was. He turns to the dragonfly Reborn beside him, his voice lowering to a loud whisper. "Gem, what’s a Jewel Wasp?"

"They're basically wasps if they could mind control people," Gem said, a sparkle starting to light in her eyes. "Which is indeed, very cool."

Scar frowned before looking at Grian. He walked around him before going back to the spot where he was previously standing. "You seem to be lacking some insect features though. Like, don't Wasp have antennae and stingers and stuff like that? Those would probably be some of the most noticeable features about you, but I’m not seeing anything like that at all."

"Oh, it's no worries. I bought one of those feature hider potions from a merchant that passed by earlier. It works pretty well, actually. The one I drank wears off in a week." Grian said, responding without hesitation.

"They make ones that last that long? That's crazy."

Gem hummed "I'm excited to see what your wings look like when they come back. I finally won't be the only four-winger in this place!... I think."

Scar smiled, at least he knew what felt weirdly off about Grian when he met him. However, he still wanted to ask one last question. One which Gem may or may not be happy with.

"Grian," Scar asked, almost whispering directly in the shorter man’s ear, " Would you like to join our vigilante duo? "

Chapter Text

Grian barely held back a gasp as Scar bent over and asked him to join his team. He looked at Scar, carefully examining his facial expression in attempt to find a hidden bit of sarcasm or something that told that he was joking. Nope. Scar seemed perfectly serious about his previous statement.

"Erm... me? You want me to help you?" Grian asked, bemused. He made it a point to ignore how close the taller man was to him right now.

"You don't have to if you don't want to. However, I think you'd be an amazing teammate, Grian." He responded, giving him a sly grin. He probably was referencing the supposed mind control ability he was going to have in about a week. Grian knew it would give the duo a great advantage over any enemies they faced in the near future.

Grian hesitated before answering, briefly thinking over his options. He had one of two choices as far as he was aware. One, say yes and go do really cool stuff with Scar and Gem and two, say no and spend the rest of his life rotting around in this apartment all sad and mopey. It was clear which one was better. "If Gem's okay with it, I'd love to be apart of your team. You'll have to wait for my wings to come back, though."

Grian all of a sudden becomes extremely aware of the patterning of his currently hidden wings, slowly developing into the thin membrane of a wasp’s. The stinger was currently only a small stud which would be positioned somewhere above his tailbone like usual. It was where most if not all tails he generated on himself ended up. Grian is abruptly snapped out of his thoughts when Scar claps suddenly.

"Great! I’m sure waiting a week won’t be all that bad." Scar chirped, seemingly pleased with his answer. Scar spins around and walks over to Gem who was currently leaning against the wall, blissfully unaware of the short conversation he and Scar had just had.

"Gem, would you be willing to let Grian join us in our vigilante business? I kinda just asked him and he said yes."

"What? I mean.." Gem glanced at Grian from the corner of her eye, her brows furrowing. "I don't see any issue with it... but-"

"If it's about his Reborn situation, we could always wait a week, right?"

"No, Scar. I know that it's just.." She sighed, before waving in Grian's general direction. "Grian would need one of these bodysuits so he would be able to hide his identity. It would be quite unfortunate if he got arrested on the spot the next time he goes outside. He's been wearing that outfit for who knows how long, Scar! There’s no way he has any other outfits to wear that would resemble the ones we have. I'm not even sure if I have enough money to get another one discreetly commissioned! Also, what if he can't fight and violently dies?!"

Scar slumps a bit, probably realizing the lack of money would definitely weigh all three of them down. “I mean, I’m pretty sure he can fight... I think?”

Oh, you have no idea, Scar. Grian thinks, softly chuckling to himself.

Scar haphazardly checks his wallet, clearly not expecting anything special but quickly perks up, pulling a check from the leather pockets. "Oh my Watchers! Gem, I have a spare 500 dollars."

Gem raises her eyebrows, her wings slightly buzzing in surprise. Grian almost accuses the man of thievery but doesn’t. Didn't the two mention that Scar lacked a job? How would he get enough to have spare left over?

"You two look.. awfully confused. Let me explain before one of you call the police on me for robbery. Cleo-" Scar stops and looks at Grian. He gives Scar a look that says, I have no idea who this 'Cleo' character is. "Right. sorry. She's one of the neutral people. Anywho, she gave me a cut out of her paycheck as a good samaritan kind of thing. The designer that we convinced to not leak our info charges about 450 dollars plus a few shipping taxes and stuff. That's just about enough!"

Gem shrugged. "Well, as long as it isn't coming out of my paycheck, we can make it a thing." She looks over at Grian, who's been toying with his obsidian pendant for the past few minutes.

"You've been wearing that outfit for a long amount of time, haven't you? I can lend you some clean clothes if you need them." She rolls her eyes as Scar opens her mouth to protest. "Don't ask him for clothes, Grian. With your height, you'll probably drown in the fabric."

"Hey!" He shouted, dragging out the vowel. "I'm average height, probably! I'm also about the same height as you."

"Huh? I can't hear you, sorry! I'll get you some clothes, you can continue gawking at Scar's lovely calendar."

If Grian could, he would have rolled his eyes to the back of his skull. Instead, he gets up and walks over to Scar in an attempt to make idle conversation. "Hey. Just curious, do you have a cool name to cover up your identity?"

"Huh?" Scar glanced at Grian, his wings ruffling slightly. "Oh, yeah. I'm HotGuy!"

He puts his hands on his hips and gives Grian a heroic smirk as he says it. However, that probably didn't give the right implications as Grian doubles down, bursting out in laughter. HotGuy?! What kind of name is that?

"Hey, hey! Don't laugh at my awesome name! You probably wouldn't be able to come up with a better one yourself!" Scar says, elbowing him in the chest.

"Ow!" Grian swats at Scar playfully before sighing and leaning against the wall. "You're right, though, I can't really think of one right now."

"Hm.. You know what, I’ll make you a cool name this second!" Scar says before examining him carefully, circling him like a Hawk.

"I've got it! You'll be CuteGuy. It totally fits you, and we'd match!"

"What?! No way." Grian shouts, half-wondering about the implications of Scar thinking he was cute. Or maybe it was just for matching purposes, he didn't know.

"Come up with a better one then. I'd like to see you try!"

"Erm.. How about..." He hesitates before taking a small risk, testing the waters. "How about... Xelqua?"

Scar wrinkles his nose in disgust. "Eugh. You mean after that Watcher that put us through all this crap in the first place? Don't tell me you're one of those hardcore fans of him or something. That's gross."

Ouch. He deserved that one, though. At least he knew that Scar absolutely hated him now. Well, not him, it's just his job really.

"You're right, that was weird of me. I just thought he had a cool name and stuff. I suppose CuteGuy would do." He spat, a bit of sarcasm lacing his voice before quickly swapping topics. "Does Gem match names with you too? What would she be..."

"No, no, no! She's Gemini."

As if on cue, Gem strolls in, changed into a white t-shirt and flowy shorts. She's holding a red sweater and a pair of black sweats, presumably for him. "Here, Grian. I'll toss your other stuff into the laundry."

"Thanks. Erm, where do I change?"

Scar looks at Grian with a raised eyebrow before facepalming at himself and scurrying off to his room, mumbling something like, 'Yeah, I should probably change too.'

"Oh! You can just do it in this living room, I'll go to my room too." Gem says, waving and walking off to her room as well.

Grian looks down at the outfit choice. It's not something he'd normally wear, but for now, he'll take it.

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

After changing, he sits and waits for the others to come out of their rooms. A few minutes pass before Scar finally emerges with a shirt that says 'Star Wars' and black sweatpants, much like his own. Five seconds later, Gem comes out too.

"Alrighty! So, we should probably start figuring out a design for your outfit. You can do whatever you like, just not anything personal so the poe-poe don't lock us up." Scar says, handing him a few pieces of paper and a pencil. "Those are sketches that Gem and I used for inspiration on ours, by the way."

"Okay," Grian replied, looking at the papers. If he was entitled to match with Scar now, he should probably play the part as well. He doodles a quick concept on the corner of a piece of paper, completely aware of Scar basically hovering over him in curiosity.

"I was thinking because you two are matching in names, you could match in outfits too, just different colours?" Gem suggested as she pulled leftovers out of the fridge.

"Maybe, but I feel like only different colours would be a bit too boring, don't you think? Perhaps if I changed the cutout into a keyhole..." He trails off, letting the room settle into silence for a few seconds.

A quick drawing of an outfit is developed on the back of the paper that Scar gave him. Grian looks at it, grinning at his creation, before Scar peeks at it. His eyes widen, and he looks at Grian, amused.

"That's.. a bit suggestive, don't you think?" He says, pointing out a few things.

"Eh, it's not that bad. Plus, I'm just fitting the CuteGuy theme you gave me with the name and such."

"I mean, if that's what you want, then sure. I’ve got no place to judge. Give me the paper and I'll tell Gem to hand it into the designer." Grian hands Scar the paper with the design on it. He walks over to Gem and tells her that this is the design that was decided upon. Gem, who was eating some delicious-looking salad, looks at it for one second, then giggles, almost choking.

"Seriously? I mean, I suppose it does a great job with anonymity. I wouldn't guess that was you from a mile away!" She says, holding the paper up to the light.

"Shush, Gem. It's the art of designing! You wouldn’t understand. Submit it, please?" Grian retorts, pouting playfully.

"Okay, okay. I'll just-" Gem takes a picture and briefly types up something. Once she presses send, she looks up. "Alright, done! It should be here hopefully in a week and a half."

Chapter Text

Grian wakes up at precisely 5:34 AM. He started a habit of waking up way earlier than Scar or Gem did so he checked up on his wing-growing process without the two noticing that he was not, in fact, a Jewel Wasp Reborn.

It's been a week since he started the agonizingly slow process and ever since, all he wanted to do was be done with it. It constantly drained him of energy and forced him to stay inside the apartment all day. Staying here 24/7 wasn't totally bad, though. It gave Grian a chance to talk to his roommates and figure out what they liked and disliked.

For example, he had recently figured out that Scar liked a show called Star Wars. When asked about it, he would talk for hours and hours; going through every bit of plot the series provided. Scar even exchanged numbers with Grian so he could send a link to the first movie. It wasn't bad, but it didn't exactly live up to the hype that Scar gave it.

On the contrary, Gem liked to spend her time with animals and nature. She had shown him several little plants she kept in her room, which looked surprisingly healthy considering they were locked away in an apartment complex. Grian wondered if he had subconsciously forgotten to give the plants chloroplasts so they could photosynthesize. However, the leaves were green, which means that these plants were just taken good care of. Nothing special. Gem also mentioned she worked a job every once and a while at an office building. The job didn't pay much but it gave enough for her and Scar to live in the apartment without worrying too much about taxes.

Grian unhides his wings, expecting a flurry of dark purple feathers that he'd inevitably have to clean up and hide in the bin. What he didn't quite expect was two pairs of paper-thin translucent wings to pop out of his back, paired with a sleek stinger that resembled the abdomen of a wasp if it were shaped from metal. He almost shrieked in joy, jumping around happily for a few seconds before realizing he would probably wake someone up, and quickly sitting back down. He leaned forward, pulling the blanket that Scar had finally given him over himself and picking up his phone. He'd realized that maybe, just maybe, he was getting too attached to the device. Normally, he would ditch the phone and just use his powers instead. However, now, what he could do was limited and shrouded in mystery. Grian had to learn the hard way that he couldn't magically pull up a description of anything he wanted and now had to google it. Which wasn't particularly bad; it simply sometimes took longer.

The phone turns on, the screen almost blinding him as he worked to turn the brightness down. After that, he checks his messages, most being left on delivered as he never bothered to answer any of them. Grian spent an hour scrolling through all of them, checking statements and warnings from the Head Watcher that were long past meaning by now. He only has a singular message from Gem, a simple hi that was used to add his number to her phone.

He's about to turn his phone off when Scar sends him a message. Grian wrinkles his nose. What was he doing awake at this hour?

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

tall hotguy (get it?)

tall hotguy (get it?)

Hey Grian. Heard you banging in the living room, lol. You okay?

man w/ amazing looks and charm

yup smth rlly cool and exciting jst happened no need to worry also plz be aware that saying i was banging is kinda weird

tall hotguy (get it?)

Hey, banging is a completely normal word! You wouldn't bat an eye if Gem said it!

Anyways, what happened?

man w/ amazing looks and charm

scar banging isnt normal

especially cuz u say youll bang smth out in the corner sometimes

context matters

i digress. come out ur room ill show u

tall hotguy (get it?)

When you say it like that, I guess it makes more sense.

Also, it's 5:40. The bed is too cosy and Jellie is sleeping on my lap. You have to come in yourself.

man w/ amazing looks and charm

fine. ig youll never know now.

tall hotguy (get it?)

Wait. I'm coming out right now.

man w/ amazing looks and charm

thats what i thought

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

Grian looks up just as Scar opens the door to his room and steps into the living room. He's wearing a grey shirt and black shorts, wings shuffling slightly as he held Jellie in his arms.

"Sooo, what's the cool thing you were talking about?" He questions, slowly petting the tabby in his hands.

"Look at this." Grian remarks, covering a growing smirk with a grin. He turns around and flutters the newly formed wings on his back, the membrane of the wings lifting the hem of the red sweatshirt he'd been wearing and then washing on repeat for the week. The wings were a heap lighter than his old ones, and Grian almost found himself preferring these instead.

Scar gasped, quickly letting Jellie down from his arms and rushing over to get a closer look at them. "Woah- These are awesome! They look great on you, Grian! Can I touch 'em?"

Grian briefly nods before angling himself towards Scar, splaying his wings out for practically the whole world to see. As soon as a hand lightly traces the veins in his forewings, he seizes up, violently biting down on his tongue. Ow. Note to self: wings are extremely sensitive.

Scar doesn't seem to notice right away, though. Small, electrifying shocks are sent up his spine as he brushes down his wings, lifting them and examining them like they would break if handled too hard. He wasn't exactly sure if he liked or hated the feeling just yet.

"Uh, you alright? You look a little tense." Scar blurts out, a hint of curiosity in his voice as he leans over Grian’s shoulder to peer at his face.

"Yeah, my wings are a bit sensitive. Not a big problem." Grian deflects, mentally sighing in relief when the raven Reborn steps away.

"Noted! Well, I'll uhm, probably go back to sleep. Have fun banging around in this place at six in the morning though." He mumbles, spinning around and letting Jellie back into his room before closing the door, the only evidence of his presence being a small black feather.

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

When Gem eventually gets up, she shrieks at the sight of Grian, practically dropping everything as she runs over. "Grian! Your wings are fantastic! That stinger is also wicked cool! How do you sting people? Do you also tear your guts out when you pull away?" She pauses, backing up and rethinking her last question with a frown. "Uh, maybe don't answer the last one. Sorry, got ahead of myself! But your wings are great."

"Thanks, Gem!" He grins, giving her a thumbs-up.

As if someone flipped a switch in her brain, she scurries away and pushes out a box with a 'PRIVATE. DO NOT OPEN' sticker on it. "Your outfit arrived early. It came in yesterday while you were napping. Sorry for not telling you earlier. You should try it on."

All of a sudden, Grian randomly starts regretting all the aesthetic decisions he made to the outfit. He sighs and drags the box off into the bathroom, where he throws on the outfit as fast as physically possible.

When he's done, he looks in the mirror and cringes when he sees himself. To be fair, it did look mildly sultry on him but it was already made and he had no room to complain.

He's wearing a skin-tight top, made out of the same material that Scar's is, he presumes. The top is split into two colours, pink and purple, that closely resemble the Watcher's iconic purple. Grian couldn't imagine not wearing the purple on every uniform he had anymore. Two gaps in the back of the top and one balanced down the bottom of his spine let his wings and stinger fit snuggly through the fabric. Talk about prophetic powers, he thinks to himself with a snicker. A heart keyhole is placed in the middle of his ribs, lined in gold.

Around more metal painted, or maybe real gold, is the real part he was worried about. Leather shorts with matching garders on each side. Probably not safe for the local children, now that he thinks about it. Darn, past him and his decisions!

A lovely pair of thigh-highs were also in the box, heart motifs going up the side of the heels and cute little bows on each side. They were surprisingly comfortable to wear, despite looking like a foot torture machine. Small heartbeat motifs lined his inner arms and thigh straps, drawn to match the theme of the hearts. His sleeves cut off in the middle of his bicep, where another thinner, black sleeve sat underneath.

Grian had also noticed that his eyes were the most noticeable part about him around here, especially if you just saw him on the street, most people would realize who he was right away. So, to fix this problem, he got a custom blindfold which covered his eyes perfectly. He couldn't see very well when it was on, everything going almost dark and blurry but was quickly fixed by Grian subtly summoning more eyes around him so he could see when fighting or flying. Maybe it would even catch some people off guard!

He combs his hair back into its usual style before trailing back into the living room. Gem is at the door with a camera, snickering as the flash goes off multiple times. Scar is standing near the couch, and his jaw drops to the floor when his green eyes land on him. He quickly regains his composure, coughing into his hand.

"Wow, that looks... A lot better than I imagined it to look." Scar says, his eyes trailing up and down Grian's body.

What was that supposed to mean? "Thanks...?"

"Just a question, though, how do you see with that blindfold on? Doesn't it make everything go dark and stuff?" Scar asks, waving to the piece of fabric over his eyes.

Grian hums, thinking of a good answer. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to come up with a great one so he replies; "Erm... I have my ways."

"Welp, if you say so! Now come over, I gotta ask you a few questions. Call it vigilante training!" Scar stated, a huge smile starting to spread across his face.

Gem looks at Grian before mouthing Good luck, you'll need it. to him.

He sits down next to Scar on the couch as Scar launches into an array of questions. For example, 'What's our cause for being vigilantes in the first place?' and 'On 1-10, how would you rate your ability to fight?' He tried to answer most questions as honestly as possible, as long as it didn't cost having to reveal his genuine identity. Finally, it came to the question Grian hoped Scar would ask. 

"Alright, last question. What's a Corrupted, and when do they form?" Scar prompts, seemingly going through a list of prewritten questions in his head.

"Oh, erm.." Grian stumbles, trying to produce a good answer before giving up. "They're the winners of the LIFE games that... Go kind of crazy when they win?"

"Pretty close, actually! When a winner wins, they undergo the process most citizens call Corruption. Something in their head amplifies their worst traits by a whole ton! Their body mutates slightly, so for someone with wings, they may grow more or they'll get way bigger. Or, if you have a tail, then it can get more pointy or longer. Winners also freeze into their bodies of death, causing some pretty gruesome sights when you actually see them in real life." Scar explains, grimacing before explaining the last part further. "For example, Joel- sorry, the Scorpion, the most recent winner, died from repeatedly clipping into the ground with an Ender Pearl. So, most of his bones are dislocated and broken and stabbing out of his skin."

"Okay, okay. I did not need to hear a description, Scar." Grian interrupts, shivering at the thought. He was about to let the topic drop when he realized something. "Hey, this is a biiiit off topic but why do you always call the winners by codenames and not their actual ones? Is there a reason?"

"Oh. Yeah, most Reborns call them by their codenames because they aren't who they used to be anymore. They're just a shell of the person they used to be." Scar replies, his smile faltering a little bit.

"I see. Well, I'm probably gonna change out of this now. It's getting kind of weird just sitting here like this." 

"Alright. Be quick, though, I want to show you something after."

Grian smiles to himself before turning the corner and beelining to the bathroom, already shaking off the thigh highs halfway there. He didn’t exactly want to admit it, but he was awfully curious about whatever Scar had in store for him. Whatever it was, Grian was 97.86% sure it would be something great. Mostly.

Chapter Text

When Grian back comes around the corner, Scar waves to him, patting the couch before pulling out two bracelets- one blue and orange while the other pink and purple. Small white beads had the abbreviations ‘HG’ and ‘CG’ carved onto them.

"Surprise! I got us matching bracelets! We're totally a duo now, with Gem of course, but I thought it'd fit me and you more because of the HotGuy-CuteGuy thing!" Scar states happily, grabbing Grian's hand and sliding the beaded string on. After doing so, he realizes he's basically holding hands with the other. Scar releases Grian's hand like it was on fire, feathers fluffing up in embarrassment.

"Oh! Uhm.. sorry Grian. Should have asked." He says apprehensively, hands tumbling to tug on the elastic of his bracelet.

Grian stares at him for a minute, almost bird-like, before looking down at his wrist. "It's no problem. I like it, though. The, erm, bracelet, I mean."

They stare at each other in silence, the only sound in the background being the running of a shower coming from Gem's room and the tap of a certain person's stinger on the couch. Scar takes this time to examine the shorter man in front of him. His perfect dirty-blonde hair which was all floofy and curled in just the right places, soft lips which were quirked up into an awkward smile, and those, sparkling, hypnotizing eyes. He could recognize them from a mile away.

"Er... What about Gem, you get anything for her?" Grian finally says, breaking him from his daze.

Just as Scar opens his mouth to answer, Gem opens the door to her room and leans on the doorframe, she has her pajamas on, and her hair's sapping wet. "Scar got you something, with his own money? I can’t believe it! It seems like the only thing we share these days is an apartment and my bank account, apparently."

"I see..." Grian says, amused. He glances at Scar for a second before flopping dramatically backward onto the cushions of the couch, his wings flopping to either side. "I'm soo tired of laying on this thing, y'know! It hurts my back like crazy and I'm only 24- yeah, 24."

"You're fine! Scar and I had to share this couch for a week or two." She says, green eyes inspecting his face carefully. "Oh, speaking of a week or two, Scar, come here. I need to tell you something important."

Scar quickly jumps up and strides over Gem as she walks into her room and closes the door behind her. "So, I'm gonna get a raise."

"Oh, that’s great! Why the.. privacy though?" He asks, clapping a few times in mini celebration before gesturing to the room around them.

"Because.. to get this raise, I have to leave on a trip for a week, maybe two. It hasn't been exactly confirmed yet. I just wanted to warn you before you two start making out on the couch while I'm gone." She says, grinning and bursting into laughter at the last part.

Scar gasps and squints at Gem dubiously. "You really think I would do that? He's practically a stranger, that's very inappropriate."

"You look hilarious right now, Scar. I was joking. But, now that I'm thinking about it..."

"Stop. No. Ew."

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

Grian is on his phone, and looks up when Scar goes walks into the living room. "Hi. What happened?"

"Nothing much! Gem's leaving for a week tomorrow, though. It’s a work thing." He states nonchalantly, waving away imaginary smoke.

"WHAT?! Gem's leaving?! How are we gonna pay the rent? We're gonna die! Noooooooo! " Grian whines, doubling over into the couch as he mourns the loss of a roommate.

"We’ll be fine! I'll just borrow some money from a friend. Plus, I do still have a bit of cash, it's not that bad!" Scar frowns, reaching into his wallet and trying to find any spare change to prove his point. "Plus, you'll get to spend time with your best friend!"

Grian rolls his eyes playfully before getting up and looking at Scar. "Who are you getting money from? Not a lot of people- no, no one gives you money other than that Cleo person, y'know."

"Hey! I have my ways. I’ve got this friend- his name is Jimmy. Let's just say.. He and his team make a pretty penny from what they do" Scar says with an almost cunning smirk.

It's silent for a second as Grian undoubtedly searches up 'Jimmy' on Google. He scrolls for a second before his eyes widen in shock, quickly looking up at Scar. "What- You- You can just take money from this Timmy guy?! You're talking about Solidarity, right? The Phoenix Reborn? He's famous... And a hero! This is a horrible idea Scar!"

"Maybe," Scar muses, "but in Wild Life, the most recent game, we had an alliance and I'm on pretty friendly terms with him right now. Also, he doesn't know who I am, remember? In his eyes, Me, Scar Goodtimes, and HotGuy... Which is still me, are basically completely different people."

"Wait- What about the government? He’ll expose you and you'll get sent to jail.. Or worse." He questions worriedly, those sparkling brown eyes staring into his.

"Nah. Even if he did find out, I'm not sure if he'd care. Most heroes are roped into the job because the government finds them valuable enough to keep around. The only selling point they have is not being jailed for being a Reborn, clout, and a weirdly high paycheck each year."

The two banter back and forth for a while, Grian insisting that talking to Jimmy will get someone killed while he defends himself with perfectly good reasons, mind you. Soon, the conversation settles down to something more subtle. Talks about what they were going to do while Gem was gone, walks to the park, and fancy dinners that not a single one of them could afford. Details about what being a vigilante was like and how much Grian would be paid. He was sure it was a practical joke but Scar had answered with the solid amount of one dollar anyway. Somehow, Grian had managed to convince him to get paid a whopping three dollars. Most one could buy with that was an orange and maybe a singular grape if you were lucky.

As the two conversed, Gem had come around and told them that she was leaving early due to unexpected circumstances.

"I'm so sorry! It was planned for tomorrow, but apparently, it's happening today! I swear I'll get back as fast as I can!" Gem quickly said, her wings noticeably hidden as she fidgeted with her fingers before grabbing her suitcase and dashing out the door. The sound of shoes tapping against the stairs is audible as she runs down them.

"Well... What now?” Grian asks, nudging Scar lightly.

“We could.. Go to the park I found you knocked out in?” He suggests a glaze of humour present in his tone. Unexpectedly, Grian agrees, so the two quickly get dressed in something more presentable. Scar wedges his raven wings under his shirt and bandages them to his back, wincing under the tight compression. Grian does the same with his four wings with a bit of help from Scar. It’s the part with his stinger that becomes the problem.

“Er.. So, about this?” He asks, pointing to the wickedly sharp end.

“Uhh… Oh! Yes, I’ve always heard of this trick where you shove any tails or stuff like that into a backpack with a hole in it! I know Gem used to keep one around for Pea-” He pauses, cutting himself off before continuing again. “ Uhm- One of her friends. I’m sure she won’t mind if you borrow it.”

After squishing the limb into a black backpack, they head out onto the sidewalk. It’s quite lovely outside today. The sun glimmered high in the sky, filtering through green leaves like a particularly shiny emerald. It was also perfectly warm out, the breeze as sweet as sticky honey.

“Well, what did you do before I picked you up off the sidewalk? Other than... Fall out of a tree and whatever you already told me.” Scar prompts, stretching as they walk.

“Oh. Erm.. I dunno, mostly hid from any hero or government agency. I didn’t exactly have any time to do anything else other than the occasional nap, I guess. “ Grian replies, deep in thought.

“Cool. Well, not cool. You know what I mean.”

“Yeah.”

They walk side by side as the two make it to the park. Scar absentmindedly drones on about Star Wars and Disneyland. Grian seems to barely be comprehending any of what he says, but still listens and nods along anyway.

“Welp, enough of that, I suppose. We’re here! It’s a great place, right?.. Sorry, that’s a dumb question, you obviously know that.” Scar says, cringing at the lack of realization of Grian literally falling out of a tree in this very park. Of course, he knew what the park looked like.

“It’s whatever,” Grian says, eyes drifting off to a girl on a bench. Curiously, the girl had an exoskeleton, a white and brown striped shell that climbed up her arms. She seemed pretty down in the dumps, pink hair draping over her eyes as she scrolled on her phone -- wait, pink hair?

“Lizzie!” Scar calls out, running over to the girl’s side. Grian quickly follows behind, bemused.

“Huh? Oh, hi Scar.” Lizzie looks up, smiling weakly. “Who’s that?”

“That’s my new roommate and best friend, Grian! I found him lying on the ground, a block away.” He says, almost too casually. Grian waves at Lizzie, and she waves back, curiously peering at him.

“Hey. Are you alright, though? I know I don’t know you, but you look pretty.. Shitty.” Grian mumbles, voice dipping to a whisper at the end.

“Ugh, I know. It’s kind of complicated. My- No- Erm..” Lizzie hesitates, picking at her fingers. “Yeah, someone I knew kind of went insane, and I can’t talk to him anymore.”

“Oh. You’re talking about The Scorpion, right? The most recent winner? You knew him?” Grian asks, his head tilting slightly.

“Yep. It was a whole thing. We were heroes together.” She explains, wincing at the use of his codename.

Grian raises an eyebrow at the mention of ‘hero’. Scar shrugs slightly, trusting that Lizzie wouldn’t recognize him.

“Well, you’re still a hero... And you still get paid enough to survive the torturous economy. So that’s the brighter side of things, I guess?” Scar tries, the attempt being futile as Lizzie sighs.

“No, it’s fine though. I’ll get over it anytime now.”

The three chat briskly about The Scorpion and other topics. Soon, the sun is starting to set, and Lizzie has already left. Now, it’s just him and Grian sitting on the bench, watching as the sun dips beneath the horizon.

“Well, that was interesting,” Grian says, eyes locked onto the pink-lemonade skies.

“Mhm... You wanna go Corrupted hunting tomorrow? I’ve been slacking on work recently, so I think we should probably get your debut in while I catch up on some stuff.” Scar hums, glancing at Grian. The sunlight caught in his hair, making it almost glow. The purple glitters in his alluring eyes shimmered and shifted as a warm orange ray reflected off of them.

“Sure, not like I got much to lose.” He replies, grinning at Scar. Clearly excited to do something other than lie around in the apartment.

Watchers, he was perfect. Almost too perfect.

He smiles back, eyes drifting to the sun.

Grian was such a great friend.

Chapter Text

The morning after, Scar wakes up and rubs his eyes before checking the time.

11:47.

He jumps and launches himself out of bed, throwing on some casual clothes and exiting his room to the living room. When Scar looks around, he sees Grian leaning on the countertop, on his tiptoes to reach a clay pot. He's watering all of Gem's plants, many of which Scar barely realized were there.

Grian turns around and meets Scar's gaze. His wings are awkwardly sticking out of the bottom of his red sweatshirt. "Hey Scar, glad you finally decided to wake up. Y'know that Timmy guy you said you could get money from? Well, I changed my mind. Please go ahead and ask him for money because you literally have no food around here... Except that." He puts his mini watering can down and gestures to the bottom cabinet where Scar kept his celebratory wine.

"You never know when you need to suddenly celebrate something, it's for convenience!" He exclaims before clearing his throat and unlocking his phone. "Anyways, I'll call him up real quick. You just stand there."

Grian nods before going back to watering little green sprouts. Scar quickly opens his contacts and taps on Jimmy's. The phone rings. Once... Twice... Three times before he finally picks up.

"Scar? What's up? You need anything?" A familiar voice chirps from the phone.

"Can I perhaps borrow like... 600 dollars?"

The answer is instant, almost like it took Jimmy practically zero thought at all. "Yep! No problem. Erm, may I ask why though?" He asks, the sound of rustling papers audible in the background.

"Oh, long story short, I got a new roommate and I'm short on cash right now. He wants food." Scar explains, shrugging slightly to no one in particular. 

"Alright. That seems reasonable. Cash or Venmo?" 

"I dunno, whatever you want."

The soft noise of tapping is heard before Jimmy finally speaks up again. "Right. Just sent the money. Bye, Scar!"

He hangs up before Scar can get another word in. Scar stifles a sigh and sits down on the singular chair in the kitchen, picking at stray feathers on his wings that were starting to loosen up. Grian puts his watering can down and looks around for a kettle before sighing and pouring himself a glass of water. He visibly cringes at himself as he puts the water into the microwave. "You got any tea around here?"

"Shelf to the very right. Middle section."

Scar watches as he brews himself a cup of tea, his eyes locked on the absolute grace the man in front of him radiated. How does one look so peaceful while brewing 2-year-old tea?! He taps his fingers on the countertop as Grian takes little sips from the steaming hot cup.

“So, can you order something online? I think I may starve to death.” He prompts, shattering the serene silence.

“Yeah. What do you wanna eat?”

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

The two end up sharing a weirdly large portion of salad. Grian raises a brow as Scar picks off all the croutons and eats them all. The two sit in almost perfect silence as they finish the salad until there’s nothing left on the plate but a pair of abandoned plastic forks.

“I think that may have been the most disgusting salad I’ve had in my life.” Grian says, still visibly disgruntled by the first bite.

Scar squints at him. “What kind of mystical salad are you eating? That was a pretty typical salad I’d say.”

“Oh. Well...” He says before leaning back in his chair, probably thinking of some punchline to finish up his sentence. Scar shrugs and tosses the paper bowl and forks into the trashcan, pretending that he isn’t half the reason why the government urged citizens to recycle so much.

“It was not that bad!” He grins playfully, standing up and starting to walk towards Grian before his phone suddenly blares. A loud, ear-piercing alarm which makes the two jump. Grian screams while Scar physically jumps, wings instinctively launching him up. He hits the ceiling and crashes to the ground with a loud Thump!

“Scar, Scar! What is that? I think I might go deaf. For the Watcher’s sake, turn it off!” Grian yelps, recoiling as the device lets out another blare.

“Sorry, sorry!” He gets up and scrambles over to the table where his phone is sitting before swiping up on the screen, speed-reading the notification before dismissing it.

The shorter male sighs in relief, gingerly walking to Scar’s side, peering at his phone. “You still haven’t answered my question. What in the universe was that?!”

“It’s a notification sent by the government. A Corrupted was causing havoc in the capital. Specifically the Assassin Bug. Maybe if the damn government actually cared about citizens and kept them under control, I wouldn’t have to deal with them. ” He informed, bitterly spitting out the last few phrases like they tasted foul.

“Hm.. Well, this is a good chance for me to prove to you that I’m not completely helpless in battle, y’know?”

Scar blinks. By letting Grian do this, he may get him or himself injured. Maybe worse. Then again, he was painfully curious about how well his roommate would do in situations like this.

“Yeah. Get your stuff on and then we can go together!”

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

A few minutes later, Grian hops through the doorway of the singular bathroom in the apartment. Watchers, he looked good (and cute) in that outfit. He was currently struggling to tie the blindfold around his eyes.

“Seriously,” Scar said, inspecting the blindfold while Grian was still trying to strangle it on, “how do you see in that thing?”

He stops mid-tie, looks at Scar for a moment, grins, and then winks before pulling the opaque fabric over his eyes, stifling a bark of laughter. “I don’t think you’re destined to know, Scar.”

Damn.

“Oh. Okay.” He replies, flustered. Scar turns to the window and briefly stares at the glaring sun to attempt to revive his crumbling composure. Get it together, Scar! He’s just a friend for Watcher's sake! Still, he was left feeling mildly insecure about his more basic bodysuit.

Scar clears his throat before stretching his raven wings out and reaching for the doorknob. “Anyways, let's go beat Reduviidae butt!”

The door is flung open as Scar throws himself down the stairwell. Grian audibly sighs before he follows in pursuit. Notably less theatrical than Scar’s exit. The two run out of the apartment complex and fly into the sky, Scar in the lead as Grian drags behind him, wings rapidly flapping as he visibly tries to not get lost through winding streets and tall trees. Sometimes, Scar swears he sees something glowing, purple and small. Yet when he looks, it’s never truly there.

“You good back there? You’re not gonna hit a tree and die on me, right?”

“Yes Scar, I’m fine. I’ve told you 100 times that I can see perfectly fine in my ways.” Grian replies. If eye-rolls were a tone of voice, then that singular sentence would definitely be it.

“Just makin’ sure! And-” Scar barely ducks out of the way as an arrow whizzes by his face. “That, my friend, is our destination.”

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

Martyn stands in the capital, soaking in the chaos as two of his arms shoot an arrow into the back of a woman’s head. People scream as he stalks through the waves of running people, grinning ear to ear at the immense amount of adrenaline that is coursing through him at the moment. If he had one thing to like about the government, it would be that they let him do things like this without sentencing him to death- for the second time.

He was just about to bite someone when a flaming arrow nicks him in the neck. He whirls around and looks up to see, of course, HotGuy with his gallant bow and stupid wings. However, another person was with him this time, and it wasn’t Gemini. A particularly short man, with curly blonde hair and a blindfold around his eyes. Probably for the edgy factor, he thought. The man was staring at him, mouth agape as he stared at Martyn’s arms, all of them frozen mid-action.

“Watchers, you’re back again? Where’d your little sidekick go, did you have to replace her with this wasp boy?” He yells, top right arm flinging a potion of harming directly at HotGuy’s chest. He barely catches it and hisses in pain when the glass shatters on his palm, the crimson liquid seeping into his skin.

“Don’t call him that! And, Gemini’s perfectly fine, she’s just out!” He retorts, briefly shaking his hand and angling another arrow directly at him. At this point, Martyn wouldn’t be able to cause any more havoc if he wanted to make it out with an arm -- not like how Pearl did the other week.

“Whatever, you fuck. Can’t you leave a man to have some fun without stopping him for once, HotGuy?” Martyn snarls before glancing at the wasp. “And you! Never seen an insect before, huh? Stop gawking and do something. If you’re gonna stop me then at least make it an entertaining attempt, aye?”

The man squints at him, then his hands before whispering something in HotGuy’s ear. He gasps before whispering something back. The wasp nods and barrels himself into a police station window, visibly stealing a 9mm handgun and whizzing away into the cloudy sky.

“Awh.. Is your little friend too scared to fight? That’s a shame, I was quite excited to see what he could dish out.”

“Shut it, Martyn.” HotGuy snaps, pulling back on his bow before firing what could only be called a warning shot. It explodes on the pavement behind him.

“Wow! Dropped the codename, aye? I’m proud! I was getting tired of it anyway.” Martyn grins, edging towards a pocketknife left abandoned on the ground by a fleeing citizen. If he could get a bit closer- then he could fling it at the rascal’s wings and he’d come crashing to the ground. A bird’s nothing when they can’t fly.

Fortunately, he makes it to the scrap of metal, ducking under another arrow and blocking when the raven lunges at him with an axe. “Geez, what did I do to you? You know you can’t kill me, right? That’s more of a treason than what you’re doing right now, y’know.”

“If I weren’t here, then you might as well kill everyone, Reduviidae,” HoyGuy said, feinting to the left as Martyn delivers a heavy blow to the ground. To be fair, the raven was right. The fact just annoyed Martyn more.

For a solid ten minutes, blades clashed, netherite to netherite. His blade caught on the other's large wings, feathers flying as blood dripped from the wound. HotGuy grits his teeth and slashes back. Each of them had only landed a few strikes on each other, drawing out this long-winded battle for much longer than it needed to last. Martyn was starting to wonder where the little wasp went. No time to think about it, though. One of his arms under the axe stretches out, pocketknife in hand as HotGuy crams in closer to him, axe over his head. He laughs as he feels it drive into the other's shoulder and shoves the taller man onto the ground. HotGuy clutches his shoulder as he watches his axe and glasses tumble to the ground far behind Martyn.

“This is a new scenario. You’ve always been soo cocky about beating me but here you are, lying on the ground and about to die. It’s ironic isn’t it?” Martyn turns around and grabs the axe. He examines it for a second, admiring the pretty carvings and swirls on the handle. Too bad he couldn’t keep it to himself. Actually, once HotGuy dies, he could keep it.

“Well raven, say goodni- Argh!” He jumps back as an arrow stabs into his foot and explodes. Luckily, it doesn’t do too much damage compared to Pearl’s situation but it’ll probably leave him limping for a while. Damn it, Scott was definitely going to make fun of him for this one.

“CG, now!” HotGuy yells, reaching behind him for his bow. He stops midway and grimaces at the wound in his shoulder.

Martyn’s about to say something but stops, mouth half open as a sharp pain flares through his spine. A bullet cuts clean through his chest. Ouch. Martyn falls to his knees, two of his hands still clutching the axe at his side while his others tried to stop the tar-coloured blood from spilling out of him. When he turns around, he sees the wasp, apparently dubbed ‘CG’ holding the dumbass handgun he’d stolen. CG runs over to HotGuy’s side, asking if he’s alright and turning him around for a second, reassuring him that he’d be fine. Once done, he walked over and dusted off his outfit, which was an obnoxious bright purple and pink.

CG crouches to his level on the ground and grins. “Hey there, Assassin Bug or whatever your name is. How’s that bullet treating ya? Hurts, right?”

“Ugh, fuck off already.” Martyn manages, one of his hands letting go of the axe and flipping CG off.

“Heh,” He laughs before gripping his shoulders and staring him in the eyes. All of a sudden, the blindfold melts off, skin dripping into a dark ink and three pairs of wings unfurl behind CG’s back. His grin sharpens and he leans closer, whispering into Martyn’s ear. “If you even threaten HotGuy again, you’ll never see the light of day again, got that?”

Oh. Oh…

Maybe he’d fucked up this time. Whoever CG was, he was clearly something above him- a... Watcher? Was that what it was? That’s definitely what he looked like at least.

He feels a sharp sting in his neck. Right, a wasp. Martyn reaches up to pull it out and make some sort of final statement but then, he starts to feel drowsy and wobbles as CG steps back and tells him to stand up. Despite the pain shooting through his chest and his mind screaming for him to stay down, he does.

“Go back to wherever you live. Whatever you saw 10 seconds ago, forget it. Remember what I said about me murdering you, though.”

Martyn wants to scream, fight, or even tell him to fuck himself one more time but his body complies and he robotically walks away, memories of the past events fading away. When he finally makes it back to the Border, the only thing he remembers is to never mess with the wasp or his little boyfriend again.

Chapter Text

" S- HotGuy?! Are you alright?" CuteGuy calls out, tucking the handgun into a holster on his hip. HotGuy can only be glad that he didn’t leak his name. One slip and he’d 100% suffer a fate worse than death.

"As alright as a man with a stab wound to the shoulder could be. Nice shot by the way." He replies, wincing at the throbbing pain in his shoulder. Dang, that one was gonna leave a nasty mark.

CuteGuy says a quick ‘thanks’ before turning around and locking eyes with the Reduviidae. He hummed softly, presumably in thought before crouching beside HotGuy and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Turn around for me real quick, 'kay?"

He obliges. Not like HotGuy could do much of anything else right now other than sit here, fly away without CuteGuy (which he wouldn't ever do), or die. Whilst staring at the concrete and drawing shapes on the ground with his blood, he hears a few words whispered and a sharp jab. One could only imagine what went down approximately 5 meters away from himself.

After a hot minute, CuteGuy taps him on the shoulder. "Alright, you can get up now."

HotGuy stands up and stretches before remembering he currently has a gash in his shoulder and stops mid-stretch. CuteGuy examines the wound, a concerned expression on his face.

"Should we go to the hospital? Can you make it back?"

His eyes widen before shaking his head rapidly, the motion casting an overly nauseating dizzy spell over him. "Oh, no! Don't take me to the hospital, whatever you do, don't. That's a one-way ticket to jail."

"Sorry." CuteGuy mumbles. He opens his mouth to say something but shuts it quickly, making a face and backing away. “...Does this happen to daily? Should I be concerned?”

“ Yeeaah. They don’t normally get me as badly as this .” HotGuy waves to the bleeding slit in his left shoulder. “I guess I was just worried about you. Got a bit distracted.”

“Oh.”

Once again, the two are sunk into serene silence, all injuries forgotten. CuteGuy crouches in front of him, barely 7 inches away from his own face. From the corner of his eye, he sees the shorter’s hand inching closer to his own before jerking back and curling into a fist.

“Er, don’t worry too much in the future, I’ll be fine.” He says, standing up and spreading his paper-thin wings, the light shining through them and casting a soft shadow onto the ground. “Let’s go. I don’t want you to bleed out on the ground.” 

“Yep. Let’s get out of here.” HotGuy agrees, inky wings flinging themselves open as he fumbled himself into the air. He almost feels a pang of jealousy when CuteGuy easily follows in pursuit. He had wings that didn’t weigh him down, had powers that actually helped people, and was more useful today than HotGuy would probably ever be in his lifetime. He’d probably be able to shake off a wound better than himself as well.

Being a raven Reborn wasn’t exactly the best thing in the world. While most Reborns got something special, like abilities or limbs and bits that were flashy and impressive, HotGuy stood with nothing but a pair of wings, close to nothing compared to his friends and peers. He wasn’t anything but a bird, prey, someone to kill. Even the wolves he’s met through the LIFE games had something special. Sharpened vision, enhanced fighting skills, swifter and nimbler. Instead, the Watchers just gave him the leftovers at the bottom of the barrel. Maybe that’s what encouraged him to spend every scrap of free time training himself to fight, to be more competent, to be more than the loser who can’t stop getting injured. Maybe he should have given in to the voices, maybe he should have let that zombie kill him that day, maybe if he’d just let them take him away and twist his limbs into something more powerful, people would-

HotGuy- no, Scar barely stops himself from ramming into a glass skyscraper. Grian catches his hand and tugs him backwards as Scar half-fumbles and half-glides to a stop. “Are you alright? You’re spacing out... And you’re going the wrong way.”

“Yep! Sorry, just got a bit distracted. Bloodloss, am I right?” He deflects, waving his hand nonchalantly.

“Whatever you say..?” Grian murmurs, squinting at him like his face gave it all away. However, Grian doesn’t comment on it and angles Scar towards the complex, the faint hum of his insect wings fluttering in the afternoon sky.

When the two eventually get back to the apartment, Scar had to physically, mentally, and spiritually resist the urge to flop onto the couch and pass out -- Even though it was barely half-past 5:00 PM. Instead, Grian insisted that Scar’s wound needed medical attention. Which, he was probably right; It was starting to hurt like crazy.

So, here he was, shirtless while Grian carefully cleaned the stab wound with a medkit he found in Scar’s room, barely a breath away from bare skin. This was probably the most awkward-flustered he’s felt in his entire life and all Scar could do was sit perfectly still and stare violently at the window to prevent himself from flushing at the other’s delicate touch. Every few minutes his eyes would flick over to Grian, who was very visibly forcing his eyes to focus on the drying blood collecting on a piece of soft cloth in his hand, trying to not look back.

Right now, the stinging of cold water being pressed into his wound barely meant anything to Scar. All he could think about was the weird fluttering feeling in his stomach- one he hasn’t felt since he was a teen. His thoughts ran in a tight ring of: He’s just a friend, he’s just a friend. Don’t ruin it all like you always do, goddammit. Scar’s jaw tightened, almost flying through the ceiling when he felt a needle pierce his skin.

“ Ffffff- Holy! You did not warn me you were doing stitches too!” He yelped, barely keeping himself steady on the cushions.

Grian giggles softly which almost makes the whole ‘Hey Scar! Just gonna stab you with this needle real quick!’ thing acceptable. “Sorry, Scar! Just wanted to make sure it didn’t leave a massive... Scar.”  

He briefly sees Grian’s eyes flicker down to his abs which were littered with past ventures and fights, almost as if Grian was using the map drawn across his body with blades and arrows as a prime example. The action was so quick that it leaves Scar wondering if it’d even happened at all.

“Erm- You also lack a numbing agent so it wouldn’t hurt any less if I told you in the first place.” He continues, clearing his throat and carefully tying a knot at the end of the suture.

“Why not just bandage it up and call it a day?”

“I dunno, I guess it’s just something I don’t do often. Don’t want to live with a massive gash on me forever.”

“Wait-” Scar double-takes, eyes widening slightly. “You do this to yourself?!”

He pauses, looking away and pressing his lips together into a thin line. Annnnd.. The awkward silence was back. Dang it.

“No, I… It’s complicated.” Grian says, at last, taking one last look at the perfectly done suture before leaning back and stretching. “Welp, I’m done and exhausted as hell. Please get up so I can take a nap.”

“Alright. Sorry for asking, if it means anything personal to ya.” Scar responds; almost apprehensively as he stands up and rolls his shoulders a few times over.

“It’s whatever. And don’t do that, you’ll make the stitches come loose and I’ll have to suture you back up.”

He gasps dramatically and walks over to his room, reaching for the doorknob. “I’ll probably go to sleep too. If you’re hungry, don’t be afraid to barge in with that gun you stole in hand.”

Grian nods, a sleepy yawn being cut off by his snicker before waving Scar off into his room.

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

“Good—--, it’s —- to get up, —- on.”

“--! I -on’t let you turn me —- a —----!”

He’s back in the fields, yellow flowers surrounding him in a mockingly cheerful manner as Scar desperately runs through the crops, stumbling and tripping over stray rocks and sticks. They’re right behind him, hot on his heels. His brain is screaming at him to stop running, to let the fuzzy ichor of corruption drown him. His heart, however, urges him to keep running and hiding and running. For justice, for his roommate, for any future winners.

“We are— going to do anything, Goodt—-. You’ve been here for 2 —---. It’s time for you to go -ome.”

What were they saying? Scar could hardly hear a word. A soft curse slips out of his lips as his wings snag on a sunflower. He barely hesitates before ripping the head of the flower clean-off and ducking into Trader Scar’s.

“Mr. -oodt—-. If y– don’t come — now, we will shoot.”

He doesn’t dare budge and stays crouched to the bloodstained floors of his base. On one hand, being shot would mean he’d be painfully revived and corrupted. On the other hand, he’d spend ages cleaning this whole place up. If these people just left him alone then he could stay forever to wander the paths of his fallen friends and tend to his sunflowers till the sun explodes.

The sound of a gun reloading shoots through the air. When he turns around, a masked figure stares back, the printed-on smile distorting into a melting grin.

“Found you.”

Scar wakes up just as the ring of a bullet whistles through his now-fading surroundings, hands still shaking in a cold sweat. Ah, another nightmare. It’s never actually caught him before, though. Scar’s quite tired of that memory by now, any mention of it only brings back the memory of a Red Life high and bloodied swords. Maybe they did put something in that syringe.

He shakes his head, trying to will the dream out of his thoughts. Scar wasn’t one of them, never could be one of them. It’s all totally fine.

He checks the time. 1:00 AM.

Dang it! This is what he gets for sleeping a few hours too early. The government always had a dumb system to keep citizens in line, maybe one of them was cursing out people who dared to sleep before the sunset. Scar mentally sighs before chucking his phone back onto the nightstand and forcing himself to go back into a light sleep.

Chapter Text

Scar wakes up- for the second time. 6:00 AM.

Seriously? Can’t a man just sleep in peace? …Well, he only has himself to blame for this dilemma.

He swipes up on his lock screen and opens X. Scar can’t stand the name change of the app but apparently, those eldritch horrors couldn’t stand the word ‘Twitter’ anymore. The first thing that greets him is a post from Gem. It’s a photo of her doing paperwork, the confidential parts scribbled out with a thick line of black pixels. The post is captioned; hi guyss! guess whos getting that raise lol @ScarGoodtimes (@1i43_sg726176656e).

3k likes, 164 retweets. A hefty amount for something that isn’t LIFE Games related. Scar still remembers when he’d constantly tweet about his life in Trader Scar’s and even the smallest sentences would rack up thousands of likes. Not that he cared about fame at the time- Talking to the shadows isn’t exactly the best thing for one’s sanity, after all.

Scar adds his like to the tweet before scrolling to the post below and being greeted by a picture of a cute cat. Like.

Next, a post from a burner account trying to figure out who CuteGuy was after his debut. Seems like the word’s already spreading, somehow. Block, scroll.

Worship of Watchers by the government… Eugh. If only he could block the government. Unfortunately with this rickety account of his, it’s not physically possible.

Old post from The Scorpion. It’s showing off a black Cadillac that the latter had bought for Wild Life and his family bit. Scroll.

Weird thirst trap of the Tiger Moth. How does one get this many clips of the guy anyway? Scar probably shouldn’t question it, the government plaster the winner’s face all over the news, like the moth Reborn is a shiny chalice proving that the government can do whatever the hell they want.

Post from Xelqua- Wait, post from Xelqua? Scar almost audibly gasps as he sits up straight and squints at the text, almost as if it would disappear in front of his eyes. The Watcher hadn’t posted a single thing in over 5 years, leading to the spread of rumors of the deity being banished or even dying.

The tweet itself was simple, barely a tweet at all. It was a retweet of a post from the official Watcher joint account. His jaw could have basically dislocated at the sight of the message. It read that Xelqua, the up-bringer and eventual downfall of LIFE, one of the first Watchers according to his high school history lessons, had been kicked from the circle. Nothing more, nothing less.

A brief thread was left by Xelqua; formerly Xelqua? Who knows. He’d left a message, basically confirming that he was good as gone, dead to the Watchers. He still had most reign over any planet or lifeform he’d made due to the Watchers not wanting the universe to fall apart.

I guess I’m not going anywhere then. Why even announce such a thing if nothing was to be changed? Scar thought bitterly to himself, swiping out of the app.

Unfortunately, only 7 minutes had passed since he’d opened this forsaken app. Scar was almost considering going back to sleep before he suddenly pauses, his hand half reaching out for his blanket.

A rhythmic tapping noise was thudding off in the living room. Judging by the steady tempo, whatever was banging around out there had been going on for a while. Scar supposes that he was just tuning the noise out earlier.

He slowly gets up, avoiding every little floorboard he knew tended to creak when stepped on, gingerly reaching for the doorknob and slowly twisting, prying the door open as gently as he could.

On the couch, Grian was focused on the gun in his lap, using a pointy screwdriver that Scar never ever recalled having to carve something into that gun of his. The former was using the end of a magazine to drive the screwdriver into the metal of the gun, flinching slightly when getting close to hitting his fingers. His phone’s flashlight was lighting the room, a ghastly glow casting onto the ceiling, barely enough to see Grian’s face.

How does someone casually carve a gun without special equipment on a couch?! Scar thought to himself, feeling awfully bemused as Grian started softly humming to himself. And where in the world did he get a screwdriver?!

Grian eventually notices Scar, looking up and waving slightly while trying to not drop the screwdriver in his hands. “Hey Scar. Whatcha doin’ up so early?”

“What are you doing up so early?” He retorts, stepping past his doorframe and peering at the gold metal of the gun. A design with small hearts and wings was slowly scratching its way into the surface, almost too perfect to notice what tools were being used for such a piece. “Well, clearly I know what you’re doing but why? And how?”

The shorter snorts, tapping his stinger on the couch. “I woke up and decided that this Glock I.. borrowed permanently looked kind of boring. I hope you don’t mind me using one of your screwdrivers.”

“No no, that's fine. My question is how you’re using a rusty screwdriver to do that?!”

“Talent.”

Scar raises his eyebrow dubiously. However, a minute later he had walked over to the fridge, peering at the sad, bare plastic shelves. “Want anything to eat or drink?”

“Water would be fine, thanks.”

“Alri- Ouch!” Scar stands up but bangs his head on the top of the fridge. Grian turns around before erupting into a symphony of laughter. Grian slaps the couch as his screwdriver falls from his hand, head falling backward while still giggling and cackling.

“Scar, are you oka- Haha!- okay?” Grian gasps through never-ending giggles.

“Yep. Thanks for laughing at me, buddy!” Scar grins while rubbing his head, sarcasm and playfulness dripping off his words. After his laughter finally ends, Grian ends up coming over and checking if Scar was actually okay to which the latter had confirmed he was fine. Scar grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and tosses it at Grian, who proceeds to flawlessly catch it. He grabs a bottle for himself and the two sit on the couch, well, not before Grian puts away his rusty, pointy screwdriver anyway.

“You’ve never really told me anything about your past, Grian. If it’s not weird to you at all, then could you offer me some stuff about yourself?” Scar asks, twisting the cap to his water back on.

“Oh, erm..” Grian thinks for what feels like a second too long before coming up with an answer. “Well, I went to a community college. So, it was free.”

Community college? Scar’s never heard of a community college before. Maybe Grian meant the welfare colleges that all Reborns had to attend instead of normal people school? Still, no one calls them community colleges.

“Community college? What do you mean?”

“...Y’know, the free ones?” Grian responds hesitantly, avoiding eye contact. “I always called them that to make it seem more normal.”

“Ah.” That makes more sense now. “Whad'ya major in?”

“I was considering some form of art but I decided on architecture. It came easier to me.” The shorter shrugs, trying to not lay on Scar’s wings as he shifts around on the small couch.

“Woah, I thought they only taught that at prestigious schools! Do you have any family members of the sort? Brothers or sisters?”

Grian’s eyebrow furrows as he leans forward a bit, concentrating as if rummaging through his memories before sighing and sitting up straight again. “Used to. They’re all long dead by now though.”

“Yikes, sorry for your loss.”

“It’s whatever, can’t even remember them at this point.” Grian murmurs before changing the topic. “What about you, what’d you major in? Play any sports?

“Yeah. Psychology. I did play a lot of volleyball in school though, I was pretty good!” Scar grins at the faint memory of being an outside hitter and being darn good at it too. Then he sighs and his smile falters slightly, “‘Was’ being the keyword. They banned us from playing sports a few weeks before I graduated.”

“Oh, that’s sad. I’m sure you were great.” Grian says, patting Scar on the shoulder. “Also, psychology? I’d assume that would be a boring topic for someone like you. Not to be rude though!”

The two engage in idle chatter for a while, each learning a bit more about each other. For some reason, Scar always had an itching feeling about any experience Grian would talk about. Almost like it was a heap of white lies; weird enough to not be possible on this planet but described in too much detail to be fake.

“Right, how’s your wound? Doesn’t hurt or anything… right?” Grian prompts, his stinger whacking the hard armrest of the couch as the shorter peers at Scar’s shoulder. Ouch.

“Doesn’t hurt or nothing. The stitches are a bit uncomfortable though.” Scar says, an epiphany of butterflies filling his stomach at the thought of the memory. Weird, someone giving another person stitches shouldn’t be... Special in any way, should it?

“Of course they’re uncomfortable! It’s a literal thread in your- OH MY GOD!” Grian’s retort was cut off by a blare on Scar’s phone. Once again, Scar scrambles to turn it off before reading the notification over.

“The Tiger Moth just killed someone. God dammit, we gotta go.” He mutters, standing up to change. Before he can walk off, Grian grabs his wrist while shaking his head.

“No, Scar. You have a wound. You need to heal, this moth man can wait.” He says, the grin on his face turning into a nervous smile.

Scar shakes Grian off. “Sorry, that’s just how it goes ‘round here. I gotta go help, it’s my duty. You can here stay if you want.”

“Scar, please. If that thing tears open you might bleed to death. Or get an infection. People can wait, you just gotta let it heal.”

“Drop it, would you? It’s my job and my choice. Someone died, Grian. I can’t another person’s life as well.”

“You’re being unreasonable!” Grian semi-shouts, standing up and placing his hand on Scar’s shoulder. “I’ll take care of it if you want, just rest for a bit.”

“Grian, let go.” Scar says, turning around to face the man. “You don’t get it! If I’m gonna have these dumb wings, then I’m gonna put them to use. I’m not letting another person get hurt because of me.” His wings flare out, opening as Scar starts walking backward toward his room.

“You? You haven’t even done anything to make someone get hurt!”

“That’s the problem! I haven’t done anything! Even if it’s not harmful I’m not helping anyone at all, I’m useless.” Scar cocks his head to the side before snorting humorlessly. “I’m the dumb raven that people throw rocks at, nothing more than a ‘silly guy that gets hurt easily’. No one has a -- smidge of faith in whatever I do. It’s always ‘Wow, Scar’s gonna die!’ or ‘Don’t let him do that, he’s gonna get himself killed!’ That’s who I am at this point, right? Even -- Even if I deserve a crown a bunch of flowers, no one cares! So, if no one does, I’ll show everyone that I’m not a worthless piece of- of shit. It’s my problem that the Corrupteds are running around when I could’ve at least helped them! I had the chance and I turned it down. I should've and now it’s come back to bite me, Grian. I have to do this, I’m sorry.”

He takes a breath in, choosing to ignore the handful of stammers and the way his rant curved into something horridly desperate. Grian stares at him, mouth agape. He shakes his head a few times before staring Scar in the eyes. “Scar, I don’t exactly understand whatever’s going on, but I promise you, it’s not your fault. Just back down for a while, alright? I’ll help you with your vigilante business, I’d kill them if you asked me to, Scar. Please don’t overwork yourself.”

Killing someone for a person like himself was ludicrous, delusional, even. However, Scar couldn't help feeling... Touched in some sort of twisted way. It was a kind-ish display of care that no one’s bothered to show him since Gem came around and gave him something to lose. Maybe he could add another person to that list.

“Okay fine, you’ve convinced me,” Scar says with a mixture of a sigh and a laugh. “I.. Guess I won’t go. I’ll call Lizzie to take care of it if she isn’t already on her way.” To look for me and send me to jail a small part of his brain whispered. He pushes the thought back for now and continues the short walk to his room.

“I’ll just go to sleep for now.” He’s not tired. “See ya!”

Chapter Text

Grian silently stares at the door that Scar had disappeared behind, a million thoughts swirling through his mind. Did he say something wrong?... Was it the killing part? Grian had assumed that killing people was normal considering that Scar had participated in who-knows-how-many LIFE games, but it was probably a sensitive topic considering the fact that murder was the exact thing Scar was working to prevent.

He sighs and takes a few steps backwards before tossing himself on the couch, cringing in pain when he slightly overshoots and lands on his stinger, proceeding to bang his head on a small coffee table beside it. The crunchy-springy noise that followed after wasn't particularly enjoyable.

Grian groans loudly in annoyance, sitting up and rubbing his head, just great. Now he was confused, bored, and would probably have a massive headache in about 30 seconds. He reaches over the coffee table to grab the gun he was carving into an hour earlier. The lines were wobbly and he really didn't want to finish the other side. Though, with nothing better to do, Grian bends over, grabs the screwdriver he'd found off the ground, takes the magazine back off the gun, and goes back to hacking away. He really misses having actual tools but his manifesto powers weren't working properly and would just switch out the dented magazine once he finished up this quick project he was working on.

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

It had been six hours. Six. Hours. Scar had presumably gone to sleep six hours ago and Grian was dying of boredom. he had practically walked 100 laps around the living room and even motivated himself enough to finish half the side he was engraving on his crappy gun project. Grian was just about ready to go mental when the room to Scar's room flew open.

"Why hello there!" Scar says happily, almost like whatever happened a couple of hours ago never went down. He was wearing an offensively bright orange jacket with a black muscle shirt under it, wings nowhere to be seen but most likely under the jacket. Grian would be insane to say that Scar didn't look good today; but he was still dazzled by the magical mood change to think straight anyway. "It's a lovely day for some outings, don't you think?"

"Mhm..." Grian replied warily, maybe this was some kind of trap? No, why would it be a trap? "Certainly took your time in there, huh?"

Scar blinks awkwardly before clearing his throat. "Yeeaaah.. About that, sorry for flipping out on you earlier. I was hoping a stop at a really good cafe would make it up?"

"Don't apologize, not your fault." Grian waves his hands dismissively. "We can go to the cafe if you want. Let me grab my jumper from the washing machine first, though. I'm not going out in this." He says, tugging the fabric of an oversized t-shirt Gem had thrifted for him before she left.

Scar nods, briefly laughing at the shirt before chucking a keyring at Grian with a singular key on it. "'kay, here's the keys. I'll be waiting in the parking lot." Scar opens the front door and waltzes out of it, humming an unfamiliar tune to himself.

Grian looks at the keyring. Judging how shiny the key was, it was either particularly new or was replaced extremely often. He's about to go down to the laundry room when something in his pocket starts buzzing. A low, almost annoying sound. Grian's hand flies towards his pockets and he pulls out the obsidian pendant. The obsidian sparkled under the crappy lighting of the apartment and almost immediately it stops buzzing. Watcher magic, of course. Whatever the Watchers wanted, he wasn't the guy to ask. After all, he was kicked from the circle for a reason.

He peers into the inky gem, resembling an ocean of black tar; a lake mirroring the night sky- Wait.

Grian double-takes at his reflection. Instead of the Jewel Wasp Reborn, he expected to see, Xelqua stares back at him instead... Great. Whatever this pendant was made out of, it was resistant to Watcher abilities. It was now seemingly obvious to him that this necklace would be a liability instead of something helpful.

However, if he were to encounter someone with illusionist abilities, then it would prove to be useful, wouldn't it? Grian sighs and clips the pendant around his neck. No one was going to look that closely at it anyway, right?

He checks the time and quickly fumbles out the front door at the sight. He'd been dwelling around for 8 minutes and would definitely take three years to get ready if Grian didn't get moving at this second. All it takes is a quick sprint down the stairs and a sneaky bit of teleportation before he's in front of the shared laundry machines. He grabs his red jumper and sweatpants before ducking into a bathroom and throwing the clothing articles on, shoving his wings under the clothes and triple-checking they didn't stick out. Then, Grian puts the clothes he was wearing previously into a free washing machine and pops a quarter in. He watches it for a second to make sure it starts spinning before walking out to the parking lot.

Scar is standing there, absent-mindedly scrolling on his phone before looking up and smiling an awfully sweet smile. "Grian! I almost thought you ditched me for a second! And you’re wearing that pendant again! It is quite pretty." He comments, ruffling Grian's hair playfully. Upon Scar stepping closer to him, Grian noticed a scar that ran across the right side of the taller's face. Huh, how had he not noticed that before?! Admittedly, it did give Scar's face a bit more flavour than it already did, but it was still surprising Grian had missed it, considering it was quite literally taking up half of his face.

Grian hops in the passenger seat of the black car and watches as Scar enters the car as well, the engine roaring softly as he cranks the gear lever into reverse.

"How'd you get that scar?" Grian asks as Scar slowly pulls them out of the parking lot.

Scar shrugs and presses down on the accelerator, veering onto the road. "Explosion. ...Did you just notice?"

Grian nods with a huff of something that could only be described as a mixture of laughter and embarrassment. Scar laughs briefly. "Fair, I usually cover it up 'cause it reveals my identity too much. Got lazy today." He laughs lightly as Scar starts driving exactly the speed limit. Wasn't Scar scared of getting fined? Then again, Grian wasn't too sure if people in LIFE cared about traffic laws or not.

After 15 minutes of idle chatter, Scar parks at a place called 'Boardwalk Coffee'. It's a boring-looking building, all in neutral colours and such, but the smell coming from the building was heavenly.

"Well, here we are!" Scar exclaims, clapping his hands together joyfully. "This place is my favourite! Once, the government sponsored Boardwalk as an advertising trick for the LIFE games and they had me make my drink and stuff! It was so fun- Oh! Did I tell you that I was a part of the LIFE games? Because I am, just saying."

"Nope. But I caught onto the fact pretty quickly, you weren't exactly subtle." Grian shrugs and walks towards the entrance of the building. Upon pulling the door open he's greeted by a sign that tells customers to order at a kiosk instead of going up to the counter, which was kind of strange but Grian doesn't question it. It's not like he's been to a coffee shop in a million years anyway. A lot could of changed.

Scar proceeds to drag Grian over to the kiosk and barrage Grian with a bunch of questions to try to get him a good drink. He eventually decides on a 'London Fog Latte' which sounded like a drink that'd be drenched in steamed milk but was apparently some sort of tea in disguise. Scar orders a Vanilla Sweet Cream Cold Foam, which is an atrociously long name for a simple-sounding drink. 

When it was time to order the drinks in cup sizes, Grian realized something when he tried to order a medium.

"So, they use terms in a different language instead of just saying.. large or something?" 

"Mhm. Not sure why but it works fine. Venti is large, Grande is medium, and Tall is small, I think." Scar shrugs for the thousandth time today then pauses for a second. Scar turns to Grian with a weirdly apologetic look on his face. "Can you enter your name? I can't really enter my name becauuseee... You get it."

"Yeah, no problem... Wait- Do you not know how to spell my name?! " Grian quizzed, looking up at Scar with wide eyes.

"Oh- Uh.. Yeah so," Scar points to himself with a silly grin on his face. "Dyslexic."

"Ooooooh! I get it. I'll type it in then." Grian nods and turns back to the oddly tall screen. Using a laggy keyboard he types in 'Grian' and presses the confirm button. Scar puts $20.00 into the machine and it spits out change which he quickly pockets. Scar suggests they get a seat and wait for their names to be called, instead of standing with the crowd of people near the pick-up area. Grian agrees and the two choose a cozy table near the corner of the establishment.

"If you're dyslexic then how do you type with like, flawless grammar over text?" He asked, basking in the warm sunlight that was filtering through the windows.

Scar chuckles and leans in to whisper like the answer is a massive, forbidden secret. "I may, or may not use Grammarly."

…What the hell is Grammarly? Grian bites the question down and nods, hopefully putting on an expression that says he knew exactly what Scar was talking about.

After a few minutes, a voice calls out "Grian!" He pops out of his chair and walks over to the counter, where a white-haired man with a face mask was holding up two drinks, one in a clear cup and the other in a traditional coffee cup.

"Here you go- Ah, hello Scar!" The person's eyes crinkle, indicating a smile as he waves slightly to Scar.

"Etho! I didn't know you were working today!" Scar exclaims, grabbing the drink with the clear cup from Etho's hands. "Etho, this is my friend Grian! He's great."

"Hi!... Scar didn't make you pay for that, did he?"

"What? No! I'm as broke as he is." Grian waves his hands dismissively, grabbing the other drink, which he was hoping was his.

"I see. Just makin' sure-" The man whose name was supposedly Etho turns around as a freakishly tall, black-haired man pats Etho on the shoulder.

"Ethoo! We're short-staffed today! Stop talkin' with Scar and get to work before I make you take those girls' Caramel Ribbon Crunch orders!" He says, propping on hand on his hip.

Etho dramatically shivers at the phrase 'Caramel Ribbon Crunch' and hastily turns back to Scar and Grian. "Nice meeting you Grian, gotta run before Skizz asks my manager to make me work overtime!"

Grian and Scar share a giggle and go back to their seats. Grian dubiously checks his latte, pulling the lid off and looking at the steaming liquid. It looked to be 99% creamer and perhaps one drop of water but judging by the tea bags, it seemed to be otherwise. He takes a sip and his eyes widen. It was surprisingly good, slightly floral and citrusy with major keys of vanilla.

"How do you like your drink?" Scar asks, picking at the sticker on the cup of his drink.

"It's pretty good, how about yours?"

Scar shrugs, "Good as always, I suppose. Want a sip?"

"Sure." Grian reaches toward the cup but hesitates mid-way, Was he really going to share a drink with his friend? He was very aware of Scar staring at him, waiting for some sort of review on the rather sweet-looking drink. Grian decides to shake his worries away, shelve the thought away to think about later and grabs the cup, tilting his head back slightly to take a sip.

"Oh- That's... Sweet."

"What? The drink or the fact that my lips were on that cup?" Scar asks feigning innocence with a sly smirk.

"Scar!" Grian blushes slightly, pushing the drink back towards the taller man. "You know I meant the drink."

"Sorry, sorry! Just teasing you."

The two spend another hour finishing their drinks and talking about random topics that pop up. Occasionally, Scar would talk more about participants in the LIFE games and how if unless you were Corrupted, the group had a pretty tight bond outside all the murdering. Grian learned that Etho was indeed another LIFE player, but had never won a game before. He mentioned that X was currently rooting for Etho to win the next one, but he didn't exactly want him to win, for pretty obvious reasons that most likely included Corruption.

"I've killed him like.. five times. I do feel a little bad but it's not my fault that he's conveniently in front of my sword all the time!"

"Sure, sure."

Eventually, the two start getting bored. So, the two soon go back to the apartment with happy smiles and another memory that Grian could pocket for the rest of his very, very long existence.

Chapter Text

It's been a whopping four days since Scar had gone out with Grian for coffee -- The former wasn't sure what to think of the situation. Did Grian think he was a creep, or maybe the flirty jokey remark Scar had made was overly weird? If Grian thought of any of these things, he clearly didn't show it. Grian had happily gone about the next few days with Scar, chatting for long hours and watching bits of a new season from a TV series that had been released.

The show itself wasn't great in Scar's opinion, too many guns and plot twists. Plus, Scar had to turn subtitles on due to the show being in some different language; he and Grian agreed that the English voiceover was a bit goofy.

The pair had gone to sleep at one in the morning, not before Grian complaining about being overly uncomfortable on the couch so Scar had lent him one of his softer pillows. After all, he only really needed one to sleep himself anyway.

The sun eventually filters through the window curtains, blinding Scar when he groggily stands up and flings them open. He's greeted with empty streets, cleaner than Gem's stash of knives, once again reminding him of the annoyingly tight restrictions citizens of this place had to live by. Even with subtle reminders about the shithole he has to call home, the thought of sweet coffee still penetrates through his head, leading Scar to drag himself out of is room and into the living room.

Grian's still peacefully sleeping on the couch, the strange obsidian pendant the shorter had worn the other day resting on the coffee table. Scar realizes that if he accidentally wakes the former up, he'll probably be in for one hell of a ride, and it was certainly too early to get berated by the Wasp so Scar tip-toes to the old coffee maker lying around on the countertop and grabs a mug, placing it onto the drip tray under the spout and choosing his selection of coffee, not as good as the one Skizz and Etho serve, but it'll have to do.

Scar absent-mindedly pours a packet of sugar into tan-colored coffee, almost dropping the mug when Grian makes a cute little noise, waking up and checking the time. The latter softly hums to himself before shrieking and turning around to face Scar, seeming almost panicked. Grian runs a hand through his hair, looking relieved when his hand slips through silky blonde strands, almost like he was expecting something to be there...

Whatever, he's probably being over-paranoid. Grian all-of-a-sudden jumps back into his normal personality and smiles at Scar. "Wow! You finally woke up earlier than me. Good job waking up three hours earlier than usual!" he applauds, jumping over the back of the couch and leaning on it.

"Yep! I magically woke up super early this morning! It's pretty surprising because I usually have to set an alarm for these kinds of things, y'know?"

"Mhm... About the show we were watching the other day, we should finish it, like right now." Grian suggested, wiggling his eyebrows to add to the persuasion effect.

"Uhm, fine! But, you have to promise you'll watch some part of Star Wars with me after!" Scar replied, wings fluffing slightly as he props his hands onto his hips. "After all, we've got a whole day to blow, a few extra hours of TV isn't gonna rot our brains too bad."

Grian's nose wrinkled. "Blow..? Er, never mind. Sure, I'll watch Star Wars after finishing this." He sighs before walking over to Scar, tugging on the sleeve of his t-shirt. "Stop drinking coffee already...! The cliffhanger was so good, I can't forget it just yet!"

"Geez, alright, alright!" Scar swats at the shorter, laughing playfully before placing the mug onto the counter and reaching over to the TV remote. Maybe he should get a laptop, then he could watch a whole lot more movies with Grian more comfortably, like on a bed! He was kind of strapped for cash though, so he'll have to hold that thought.

Despite everything, Gem still manages to earn enough to have her and Scar a Netflix account. She doesn't watch too many shows but keeps the membership up because she noticed that he still uses the program a lot. Gem does often threaten Scar with canceling it if he doesn't use it, which is perfectly reasonable, but still! In the end, Scar knew that it was technically Gem's money and if she doesn't have the money for it, then she can do what she wants. Heck, she could sell the whole TV if she needed.

Scar walks over to the couch, sitting on the cushions and leaning back. He waves to Grian, prompting him to sit next to Scar. "Y'know, it's actually been a bit since I had a movie night with someone, so this should be fun!" Scar chirped, pressing the 'Netflix' button on the remote. The screen flutters to life, a bright red logo flashing on a black screen.

Grian grins before facing the small TV in front of him. "We'll see."

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

Scar was staring at the TV, The Phantom Menace playing out in front of him. He was humming softly as Grian preened his wings. Scar had only briefly mentioned about having to preen sooner or later today but apparently, Grian knew how to and asked the former if he could do it for him. Scar of course took up on this offer but did find it a bit strange an insect Reborn even knew how to do such a thing. When asked, Grian simply mumbled something about having a sibling with wings. Reasonable enough.

Mid-way through realigning a feather, Scar's phone starts vibrating, a sharp and loud noise piercing through the air. Another Corrupted warning. Grian slightly flinches, yanking out the feather he was straightening and eyeing the phone. "Again, seriously?" He proceeds to squint at Scar, who had paused the TV and was starting to stand up. "No. You're not going, I don't care. It's already getting dark outside anyway.”

"Come on! It's been like... Six days since being stabbed and I'm pretty sure I'm fine. If it's too early, then just bandage it up later. I've been through waaaay worse! I swear I'll be fine."

"No."

"Please?"

"Nuh-uh."

"Pleaase?"

"N-... Argh! Whatever, fine. Do you have any bandages? Because I guarantee you'll need them."

Scar hands Grian the medkit. The shorter mumbles something about needing at least 'two weeks until taking out sutures is a remotely good idea.' but still orders Scar to take his shirt off so he can take out the string weaved into his skin. Not before washing his hands and donning gloves, of course.

Scar does so, flinging his shirt off like a dramatic cologne ad. Grian rolls his eyes playfully and leans close to his shoulder, practically a few inches apart from warm skin before taking a little cotton swab and cleaning the area. "Have you ever considered that you're a little too careful removing stitches?"

"Nope... Well, maybe a little bit. I don't want you to get hurt or anything." Grian mutters, leaning back and waiting for the wound to dry.

Eventually, Grian goes back in, specifically removing the second suture first removing the others. He winces at the scab left over from the wound and all Scar can do is pray to whatever gods are watching him that it wouldn't get infected.

"Huh, I honestly thought that the thing would start bleeding everywhere but it didn't… somehow. Lucky you. Now all you need to do is pray you don't get an infection."

"Already did." Scar laughs before standing up and stretching lightly, noting the slight pain in his shoulder when doing so. "Gonna go change now. You should too if you wanna come along."

"Yeah, I will."

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

Joel rolled his eyes, scoffing as people ran and recorded him on their phones. He hadn't even done anything yet and people were already running for their bloomin' lives! He had simply come out to kidnap a person or two for Scott because he was a blood-thirsty bastard. Joel truly couldn't understand what was so bad about doing that. It's not like the Heroes care about what he does either, last time he checked, it wasn't in their job description.

He strolls through the streets before seeing a woman; just about 19 years old. Perfect. Joel sneaks up behind the trembling figure as she runs into an alleyway. When the girl lets down her guard, he strikes, literally! Joel's uncomfortably long-ass tail whips around, jabbing the woman in the neck. He makes sure to only inject enough venom to make the woman incapable of movement before getting ready to drag the bitch back to the Border.

When he looks up, instead of a setting sun he's greeted with two figures, flying in the air. The shorter blondie was holding a gun and aiming it at his chest while the other reached behind him, grabbing a fancy-looking arrow. "Drop her, Scorpion!"

"Ew, why is everyone calling me that? Also, no! I'm not letting you have her, I've got an agenda, y'know?" Joel hisses, he grits his teeth slightly and leans his weight onto his left leg. Ouch, bandaging his right leg back together certainly didn't help. How did Pearl walk around missing half her flesh?

A bullet flies next to his arm, a warning shot. "If you do not comply, we will be forced to use violence." the brown-haired one vowed, large black wings sending a bit of wind his way. Joel wants to use his axe and slam it into the bridge of those shiny glasses, lets see how much violence the birdy can use then.

"Fuck off, let me mind my own bloomin' business." Joel snarks, dropping the woman to shoot the presumed wasp and crow-raven thing a middle finger. People these days.

Another bullet whizzes through the air, this time firing directly into the exposed bone of his hand, shattering it. He steps backwards, grunting. "Didn't need to mangle my arm more, thanks."

Joel would glare at the two if one of his eyes actually fucking worked. His left eye had fallen out of its socket when he'd repeatedly slammed into the ground using a shiny ender pearl all those months ago. Unfortunately, it rendered that eye useless, the nerve endings still technically hanging on, but still fucking up his sight anyways. A one-eyed glare wouldn't be very intimidating in his opinion.

"Mhm.. Now leave that girl alone and go back to your dumb border." Wow, he couldn't believe that another Brit had the audacity to practically tell him to fuck off. Rude, wasn't it?

"Nah. I'm good." He reaches back with his still-intact arm and grabs his netherite axe, spinning it around and pointing it at the wasp. "Listen, leave me and this random whore alone and you may or may not leave with your blooming head."

The wasp flies towards him, summoning a sword from practically nowhere and swings up at his jaw. Joel dashes to the side and barely dodges a flaming arrow that could've blown his arm off entirely. An array of bullets and arrows follow him as he weaves around the narrow halls of the dirty alley, a few of them nicking Joel and burning like hell. That didn't matter though, what mattered was that one of them was eventually going to run out of ammunition or arrows. He just needed to run until one of them showed a sign of weakness.

After being hit in the upper arm with a bullet, he finally heard the noise he was looking for. A soft Click! noise. The gun was out of ammo. Joel flies into action, climbing the brick walls and almost falling off when an arrow finds it's way into a tiny nook in the wall, exploding upon impact.

The blondie reaches for a magazine, a little too slow to process a certain spitting scorpion launching towards him. The holographic-glasses man screams, "CuteGuy?!" as he flies towards Joel. He uses his whip-like tail to smack the bird in the face and veers around in the air, slamming his tail down on the wasp's head, a loud Crack! ringing into the night, which could be his tail breaking, but who knows at this point.

The wasp, apparently dubbed 'CuteGuy' (shit name, by the way) falls out of the sky, sword clattering out of his grasp as he violently crashes onto the ground. Joel uses the handle of his axe and forces it down over the man's neck. CuteGuy gasps and wriggles under him as Joel strangles the shorter man with his axe.

"Not so fucking cocky now, are you?" Joel sneers as the wasp coughs and sputters, unable to produce a reply.

He only needed to knock the wasp unconscious, as the woman he'd nabbed earlier would be a better test subject than a Reborn anyway.

CuteGuy was just starting to fall unconscious when it happened; an arrow flew straight at the bandage wound tightly below his knee. The wrapping burns as the arrow whizzes through the knot, hitting the floor behind him and exploding.

Joel collapses over the wasp, stumbling up and back as he looks down. Once again, his leg was hanging by a little strip of flesh on the back of his calf, bone poking through flesh and overlapping the sector of his joint where the bone had broken off. A black tar-like substance leaked from his leg, making him grimace at his own technically self-inflicted wound. He hops on one leg and looks at the bird, wide-eyed and looking like he was about to vomit as a fancy bow splayed from his hand.

"Ow! Dude, what is your problem?!" Joel yells, his tail instinctively arching over his head, poised and ready to strike.

Instead of responding, the man flies down to CuteGuy, getting down on his knees and checking if he was okay. Ew, he's going to complain to the government to make PDA illegal... But that meant he'd have to make it out alive.

"Okay, okay. I give up. Have the girl." Joel spits, falling back to lean on a wall. The bird strides over to the woman on the ground and picks her up.

"Hold on, HotGuy, I wanna have a word with The Scorpion real quick. Go around the corner, would you?" CuteGuy says, waving the taller man off. Wow, they had matching names too, how 'cute.'

Joel blows a raspberry in CuteGuy's face as he walks towards him. The wasp, as a wasp does, stings him on the neck. "Alright, why the hell did you try to kidnap a woman off the streets?"

Was he.. interrogating Joel? What was the sting for? Luckily for him, he was exposed to his venom quite enough, rendering him immune to any other kinds. Maybe CuteGuy's stinger was secretly a truth serum...?

Whatever it was, he definitely wasn't answering shit to the little helper of a man who practically blew his leg off. He answers a few questions falsely before the shorter leans closer to Joel, a glowing, glimmering smile stretching a little too wide across his face. "Now, in your words, fuck off and stick to your own business, would ya?"

As much as Joel would like to push CuteGuy back and tell him that he wants his personal space, the way his eyes and smile were genuinely glowing was kind of freaky, and he kind of felt compelled to leave and complain to Scott and Martyn. So, he nods and slowly limps his way out of the trashy alley.

Chapter Text

Scott was casually sipping on a fruity cocktail while playing his Mean Gill in an intense game of Uno when Joel bursts through the door, his right leg fucked up and out of the stratosphere, almost like he'd walked 100 miles without that bandage Joel makes sure he wears before leaving.

"Scott." He pants, closing the creaky door and leaning heavily on it, catching his breath. "You know HotGuy, right?"

Scott raises an eyebrow, taking a judgy sip from his cocktail. "Mhm. He fought me too many times to count on all of Martyn's fingers, why?"

"He's got a new shitty little partner and I think there's something up with this partner of his-"

"You're talkin' about that wasp guy, yes?" Martyn interjected, putting his cards face-down on the table before turning to Scott. "He stung me and made me forget a whole bunch of shit! I don't exactly remember how, though. Did I mention that he shot me that other day?"

Scott quickly nodded before waving his drink in Joel's direction. He wanted to know more about this wasp and if he was worth complaining to the governor about.

"His name is CuteGuy, dumb name, by the way! He tried to blooming sting me and order me around like a fucking lap dog. I'm not sure what kind of venom he has but it obviously didn't work on me. And get this; he can glow. While telling me to fuck off, his eyes and teeth seemed to glow or something." Joel ranted, scraping his tail against the floor until a thin line was starting to peel off the floorboards.

Scott hummed, mentally taking note. A wasp that can control people and glow? He's never heard of anything like it. "That's probably what happened the Martyn then. He stung him and somehow controlled him in a way... Did you happen to see what he looked like, any way we can find him acting like a citizen?" 

"He had a tacky blindfold on." Martyn said, "Has special eyes most likely. Don't count on it though."

"Yeah, he had a blindfold. Not really sure how he can see, but maybe he has extra eyes?" Joel nodded.

"... Wait, extra glowing eyes, the ability to control someone with a sting... That doesn't add up at all. Last time I checked no such insect existed." Scott piped up, cutting Joel off before he could start ranting again. "I do have a slight idea, but only one of the features makes sense."

The two look at him, eyes glinting with curiosity. "CuteGuy could be a Jewel Wasp; a very special kind at that."

"Jewel... Oh. I guess that sorta makes sense."

"The hell's a bloody 'Jewel Wasp'?"

Scot rolls his eyes, the glittery stars surrounding his head wiggling slightly, "It's a wasp known for controlling cockroaches. Obviously."

Joel scoffs, leaning practically all his weight against the door. Scott thinks it would be quite funny for someone to conveniently open the door and watch Joel fall over. "That doesn't explain the glowy teeth and shit."

"Remember that theory of which Watcher controls our good 'ole planet? The one that was formed from Lizzie speaking out about what happens after you die in a LIFE game. If you don't remember," Scott adds, glaring half-heartedly at Martyn who puts his hands up defensively. "when you die, you're normally greeted with a weird shadow-creature with eight wings and a lizard tail. One day, when Lizzie dies, she sees this figure but with spider legs instead. The only Watcher that does such a thing is Xelqua."

"Some people argue that it can't be Xelqua 'cause of his absence, as he usually interacts with citizens. But one literally cannot argue as many structures around this place are extremely Xelqua-coded. Also, the government worships the dude, who else could it be?"

"Uh-huh, get to the point now, Mean Gill." huffed Martyn, propping his feet up on the table and looking like he was about to doze off.

"Whatever." Scott grins, tapping his fingers playfully against the table. "Legend has it that Xelqua answers prayers that offer sacrifices with hefty value. Maybe this 'CuteGuy' person took the expensive route and begged on all fours for some extra power."

"Okay... Well, what do you suppose we do about it then?" Joel asks, raising a brow.

Scott shrugs as if he doesn't know exactly what he's going to say next. "Stalk him, confirm he's a Xelqua boot-licker before taking action."

"We can't. None of us look normal enough to go out without the alarm going off." The blondie in front of him states, waving his hands for extra persuasion points.

Right. The three of them were either too recognisable or would most likely snap and go on a killing spree. Though maybe, there was one person-

"Pearl can do it!" Scott exclaims, "She recently got a prosthetic, so the missing arm shouldn't be an issue. Also, the intestines and bones are easily covered up with baggy clothing! She'll blend right in."

"Wow, you're using that bloody brain of yours for once!" chirps Joel, blowing a raspberry as he walks toward the stairs. "I'll go wake her up then. You two go back to intimately playing Uno, or whatever you're doing."

"Will do!" Martyn calls, laughing when Scott squints at him dubiously.

"Tell her I said good luck," Scott adds as Joel dashes up the stairs.

Welp, crisis averted. If he was right, then the threat of this boot-licker would be gone in a heartbeat.

As long as everything went to plan.

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

Grian and Scar are hanging out on the couch, the sun shining brightly through the window when a soft 'Tap tap tap!' sounds on the door.

"I'll get it!" Scar calls, getting up and leaving Grian on the couch.

Grian wonders who could it possibly be, after all, it was seven-in-the-morning and last time he checked, paper boys were a thing of a very long time ago. His thoughts are cut off when Scar gasps. "Gem!"

Grian looks up, locking eyes with Gem, who was in airport attire and lugging a small suitcase behind her. "Scar! It's lovely to see you!" She exclaims, letting go of her suitcase to hug Scar. "You too Grian!"

"Gem! You're finally back! I thought I'd die of starvation without you." Grian jokes, laughing heavily when Scar glares at him with a cute, barely menacing look. Gem laughs as well, patting Scar supportively on the back.

"He's doing his best, really. But hey, I got the raise! Aaand , guess how much more I'm being paid."

Scar thinks for a second before opening his mouth to answer. He's cut off as Gem covers his mouth. "Rhetorical question. An extra two hundred dollars a month! I've already had it added to my paycheck as well!"

"Two. Hundred. Dollars?! Shit, that's a lot of money! You're amazing, Gem" Scar shrieks, shaking the shorter by her shoulders.

"You never call me amazing... I've saved your life already and I've only helped you for a week." Grian mutters half-heartedly. Scar quickly lets go of Gem to spin around and ruffle Grian's hair.

"Don't worry! I think you're the best." He says, smiling and playing with Grian's hair. His heart nonconsensually skips a beat and Grian giggles, waving Scar's hand off.

Gem pulls out her phone to take a photo, snickering, but stops once she processes what Grian had said. "Wait... You went on missions without me?! And Scar almost died?!"

"Well-" Scar starts, he doesn't get far as Grian stands on his tip-toes and presses a finger to Scar's lips, shutting him up effectively.

"He was stabbed by the Assassin Bug. Scar claims he's okay but I have a sneaking suspicion his wound will reopen if he keeps risking his life like that." attests Grian, tracing the spot on Scar's shoulder where the wound would presumably be. He raises his eyebrows at Gem when Scar visibly grimaces and steps to the side.

She sighs, finally wheeling in the luggage and closing the apartment door behind her. "All that matters is that he's still alive. Thanks for protecting him while I was gone."

Gem yawns, four pairs of wings fluttering under her sweatshirt as she starts walking towards her bedroom. "Well, I'm gonna go take a quick power nap; I didn't sleep well on the plane. Wake me up in thirty minutes please, I've got a surprise for you two."

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

Thirty minutes later, Scar knocks on Gem's door. "Mm.. I'll be up in a minute.." sounds a sleepy voice from inside the room. Sure enough, Gem pops out of the room in exactly 1 minute and 30 seconds. Her wings are seemingly bandaged tight under a green t-shirt and a denim jacket.

"What's the surprise?" Scar asks eagerly, his eyes sparkling in curiosity. Gem opens her phone and pulls up a confirmation of a reservation, showing a table for three at a restaurant called 'Solar Diner.'

Grian feigns excitement. Don't get him wrong, he was excited to spend time with his friends . He just had zero idea what kind of restaurant this would be. He looks up and sees Scar wrinkling his nose in half-worry half-confusion. "...That place is really expensive. Even with your raise, that's a lot of money to spend in one day."

Ah, an expensive restaurant, that makes Scar's reaction make more sense. "What Scar said. That place is really good but I don't want you to blow it all in one day." He pretends to not hear Scar whisper 'That's what she said~!' in his ear.

"It's alright! I just thought I should treat you two a bit, considering I left for a whole week." Gem shrugs, reaching into her pockets. "You two should change, I'll wait for you outside at Door One, 'kay?"

They both nod and Scar walks off into his room. Grian sighs, realizing that he'd have to wear his red sweatshirt at a fancy place. After a second, he processes having his dismantled Watcher uniform. Combined with his shiny obsidian pendant, that would look good enough for any fancy gathering.

Wait.

He can't hide his wings under the thin fabric, that would be virtually impossible.

When Scar walks out of his room, wearing a jacket that made him look unfairly pretty on him, Grian begs Scar for a jacket -- preferably black to match his outfit. Scar nods with no hesitation and sprints back into his room, coming out with a black denim jacket which was so long that it looked more like an oversized hoodie than anything. Still, Grian accepts it graciously and throws it on, hiding his wings when they were fully concealed.

The two dash down the stairwell, meeting Gem next to her car and hopping into the backseats.

The car ride to their destination was particularly calm, a couple of words being exchanged as Grian listened to pop music flowing through the radio. Eventually, the trio make it to the Solar Diner. Scar points out a couple of posters that say; "Bdubs approved!" on it with a picture of a man with a green wool jacket holding two thumbs up, eyes eerily wide and smile white as a fresh blanket of snow.

The exterior of the restaurant was fancy; paved with bricks and little monstera plants fluttering in the wind. Gem swings open the door and chats with the hostess before she leads the three to a table in the middle of the restaurant. Grian and Scar sit together while Gem sits on the other side of the table.

Grian takes a peek at the menu and wow , the prices were insane for what seemed to be small cutlets of meat and such. From experience, the food still tastes excellent despite the portions and could compare to whatever the Watchers dished out daily.

"Anything you guys wanna order?" Gem asks, glancing at the menu while talking.

Grian and Scar shrug at the same time. Before Grian can actually answer Gem's question, the waitress walks over to the table, notepad in hand. "Welcome to Solar Diner, My name is.." The waitress seemingly hesitates, a key sign that she's lying. Then again, why would someone lie about their name? "Opal. My name is Opal and I'll be serving you today. Can I get you started with anything to drink?"

The waitress who claims to be Opal is wearing a uniform that seems to be slightly too big for her, the top a little too large and pants looking a bit more like sweatpants than formal wear. A bucket hat with the Diner's logo was sitting on her head. Grian would think this kind of clothing was a bit strange for such a place, but who's Grian to judge? She also has shoulder-length brown hair, a prosthetic on one arm, and warm ruby eyes, the right one covered with an eyepatch. The waitress's accent is noticeably off, but still normal enough for Grian to ignore it for now.

The three agree on everyone getting a glass of water. 'Opal' nods before quickly walking off to the closed-off part of the building.

"She seems nice," comments Gem, making idle chatter as they all waited for their drinks to come around.

She's lying to your face, Gem.

Grian bites his tongue, holding back any comments that could potentially ruin the comfortable atmosphere. "Sure does. She's also quite pretty." He says, trying to shove any suspicions to the back of his head. Maybe Opal was just private about her life?

Scar's smile slowly turns into a slight frown and he silently nods at Grian's comment.

"..Scar you alright?" Gem asks, a little bit of worry washing over her face.

"You've seemed a bit out of it since Gem came back." agrees Grian, turning to face Scar. He didn't exactly want his friend? to be in any sort of distress on a good day like this. Maybe he could talk it out with the latter later.

He shrugs before a small, almost forced-looking smile appears on his face. "Just thinking about stuff."

All of a sudden, Scar perks up and leans closer to Gem. "Y'know, she kind of reminds me of Pearl, don't you think?"

Gem bites the inside of her cheek before sighing slightly. "Yeah, she surely does look a lot like... Yeah."

Grian tilts his head slightly, the obsidian pendant around his neck shifting on his chest. "Pearl?" Though he didn't know who Pearl was, the names Opal and Pearl were eerily similar in a weird way.

Call it out.

I don't want to.

Don't you want to help your friends?

...

"Oh, Pearl is my past-girlfriend. She still considers me her significant other, I think." Gem says with a look of reminiscence. She quickly shakes herself out of it, though.

"What happened?"

Scar glances at Gem, silent confusion passing between the two. "She won." Gem laughs, almost bitterly.

"Ah," Welp, can't be with someone who tries to cut your head off, he thinks to himself. Grian wonders if Pearl knows that Gem is Gemini.

He doesn't get to ask as Opal comes back with three glasses of water in her hands. She places them in front of the trio before pulling out the notepad again. "Anything you three would like to order tonight?"

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

After the three finish eating, they start chatting again, bringing up topics like the missions Grian and Scar went on and just daily life in general. Eventually, the conversation goes back to Opal.

"I think she's pretty," Gem says, fiddling with a metal fork. "but I'm not gonna disturb her work or anything."

"Who knows?" Scar chirps, his hand resting on his chin. "You don't have to be in a relationship, you two can just be friends!"

Scar looked lovely in the dim lighting, dark-brown hair and emerald eyes catching the gold lights in such a way that Grian started to the urge to take a photo and frame it on the wall. He had only realized he was staring when Scar looked over and smiled slightly. Right, talking about Opal, not staring at Scar… Staring at Scar?

Grian blinks a few times to rearrange his thoughts before jumping back into the conversation. "Yep, getting over Pearl could be a good thing. You should totally ask Opal to meet sometime."

Gem doesn't respond, seemingly thinking before Opal comes back, scanning over the three slightly before talking again. "Anything else I can help with?"

"No. Uh- You said your name was Opal, right?" Gem asks, staring at the brunette softly.

" Mhmm.. Why?" asked Opal, an almost smug smile tracing her lips.

"Can I have your number?" Gem blurts, inhaling sharply after she finishes her sentence.

Grian holds his breath, this could either play out as a sappy romcom or absolute rejection. He was personally hoping for the former, just for Gem's sake.

Opal's smile lifts, hints of excitement and something else flickering in her eyes. "Sure!"

Grian cheered in his head, and judging by Scar's massive grin, he was doing the same. The two nudge each other playfully, snickering lightly.

"I didn't catch your name, though. Mind telling me?" Opal prompts. Gem laughs, realizing she had been so caught in up talking about Pearl, she had forgotten that Opal didn't actually know who she was.

"Gem, Gem Tay. Nice to meet you."

Opal hums, smirking slightly. She suddenly jumps when someone yells at her from the cash register. "You. Get back to work! Your paycheck doesn't make itself."

Opal clicks her tongue in annoyance, rolling her eyes. "I'll be back."

She walks towards the cashier and leads him into a backroom, almost forcefully. Grian loses sight of the two after a few seconds.

"Oh my Watchers, that was soo cute!" Scar says, clasping his hands together excitedly. Grian quickly agrees and Gem giggles slightly shrugging.

A few minutes pass and Opal finally walks out of the back, shaking water off her hands like she'd gone to the back just to wash her hands. Weirdly enough, the cashier doesn't walk out after her. Opal grabs a check and comes back to the table, placing it on the table. She watches as Gem puts her credit card into the leather pocket and hands it back to Opal.

Opal hurriedly walks away and comes back in record time, giving Gem the customer a copy of the check. "Have a lovely day, you three." She winks at Gem before going into a staff-only section of the diner. Grian leans over to look at the check, a phone number with a heart scribbled hastily on the bottom of the paper.

Scar smiles and starts blabbering on about something, though for once Grian isn't exactly listening. He's watching Opal slip something shiny into her pocket while walking towards the backrooms.

Yeah, something tells him that Opal may or may not be a sociopath.

Chapter Text

The next few days were all about Gem and Opal. Scar was glad they got along so well, but the similarities between Opal and LF were so glaring that he struggled to call Opal by her name and not Pearl . Scar often found himself wondering if Gem even remembered that what used to be her girlfriend turned into... something else over the course of a day. But if finding people who looked weirdly similar to her ex helped Gem cope, then Scar was all in.

Scar was standing next to a sleepy, uncaffeinated Grian while shoveling two pieces of toasted white bread down his throat when Gem suddenly gets this really funny look on her face, and being the good friend he is, Scar asks her about it.

"Well, Opal just asked me out." Gem says, a hum of excitement in her voice. Judging by the way she facepalms when seeing Grian suddenly choke on his coffee and Scar's shocked expression, the two had interpreted that wrong. "I meant as a friend, as a friend."

Grian yawns, leaning on the countertop before sleepily countering Gem. "Mm... Whatever makes you feel better at night.."

"Where are you two meeting?" Scar asks through mouthfuls of bread. Grian offers Scar a napkin which he takes graciously while Gem judges him from the couch.

"At a botanical garden," she shrugs, smiling slightly. "Apparently working at a restaurant makes you more money than your average nine-to-five. I might give it a try."

"I heard you get free food if you work at a restaurant."

Grian shakes his head. "You don't. Sometimes you get discounts but that's it."

"You worked at a restaurant? That's cool." He turns to his left in an attempt to make eye contact with Grian. How has he done practically everything?!

Grian's eyes widen slightly, before nodding quickly. "Yep, only for a brief moment though -- I may or may not have been fired." he leans on the laminate countertops, grinning at Scar almost nervously before shrugging to himself and going back to staring at the dark vortex of decaf coffee. Scar wonders how one could drink such a bitter mixture; he could barely get one sip down without gagging.

Gem raises her eyebrows at the two, before checking her phone and hastily getting up from the couch. "Well, nice chatting, I gotta get out of here in about thirty minutes." She quickly walks into her room, saluting before closing the door.

"Do you think those two like each other?" Grian asks, a smile playing on his lips.

"Totally." 

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

"Alright, I'm leaving! Please don't burn this place down, Scar, I'm talking to you." Gem says, emphasizing the 'don't burn this place down' part.

"You're not my mom!" Scar jokes, laughing when Gem rolls her eyes and speed-walks out the door, slamming it behind her.  

As soon as Scar finishes laughing, Grian gets up, grabs Scar's arm, and drags him over to the couch. He takes it as a hint to sit down so he takes one side of the couch while Grian sits down in the other. Grian is still holding his espresso even though it is 100% cold by now and most likely gross.

Grian takes a long sip, wrinkling his nose and flicking his stinger slightly at the taste of the hour-old coffee. He glances at Scar, an awake-but-kinda-tiredish look on his face as he squints at Scar before finally speaking; "Random question but do... Er, do you think you're a good person?"

Scar's heart could have stopped that second. Did he think he was a good person? Morally, the answer would probably be yes. But by actions?...

"Depends on your definition of a good person." Scar falters, voice still happy-go-lucky as always.

"You said you do all this vigilante stuff because you want to protect people, yet when we do just that, you never seem very happy," murmured Grian, staring blankly at the wall in front of him. "You're always so- serious about all of this. It's almost like you're a different person."

"Even when you saved that girl's life -- and mine, all while fighting the other day, you didn't seem like yourself. What I mean is that you just seemed kinda disappointed in yourself, I guess."

Scar blinked a few times, barely processing what Grian had said. First of all, when did Grian pay this much attention to him anyway ? Second of all, he was really hoping Grian wouldn't question why his personality switched around so often but here he was. He laughs humorlessly, a small smile slipping onto his lips despite not feeling very enthusiastic at the moment. "This is a little awkward, uh -- You can't let the bad guys know you're scared. Pretending like you're not scared at all is also an amazing tactic to stay anonymous... So." Scar says, so softly that Scar couldn't tell if he'd actually spoken.

Apparently, he was loud enough as Grian makes a little 'oh' noise before he just stopped making any noise completely. He drinks the rest of the coffee before putting it down on the table and picking at his nails. After a minute or two, he finally pipes up again, ungluing his eyes from the wall and looking at Scar.

"You don't need to force yourself to do all of this, y'know? Like, last time I asked you didn't owe anyone anything."

Scar shrugs, reaching over and yanking out a feather absent-mindedly. "You don't get it. I-"

He bites his tongue, shutting up suddenly. Does he really need to tell Grian he won? That he'd killed his friends dozens of times for a piece of leathery paper rolled up into a wooden tube? How would Grian think of him when he'd have to explain how he had to be dragged out of Trader Scars, held at gunpoint? How he had felt responsible for hundreds of citizen's deaths, how he could of prevented the forever bloodthirsty versions of his peers from killing everyone and everything if he'd just accepted his fate and let himself be mauled to death by a zombie. Would Grian think he's lying because he's not corrupted and all freaky like the others, no, the question he should be asking himself is how would he be able to explain why he's still normal, unlike the others? Could he have even stopped the other Corrupteds from killing, or would he end up just like them?

Scar shakes himself out of his thoughts; a glassful of unanswerable questions didn't sound fun at the moment. "I did a whole lot of bad things when playing the games. It's not like we were playing a video game, Grian. I was killing my friends and they could feel every little ounce of pain I inflicted on them. Being stabbed or exploded or burnt to death like three times over isn't exactly enticing."

Grian shakes his head, now staring into Scar's eyes, "But you died and were revived about, seven, fourteen, twenty-eight times, yeah? What makes you so much more guilty than other Reborns?"

"Long story short, I could have saved a whole lot of people, but didn't 'cause I chickened out. Just repaying my debts." clears up Scar, biting the inside of his cheek. Don't ask more questions, don't ask more questions, don't-

"Scar, I think you're fantastic." Grian blurts, facial expression contorting like he was shocked at his own words. Whatever he meant to say, Scar bets that definitely wasn't it.

"What?"

Grian sighs, leaning back and accepting the path that he'd paved for himself, "I think you're fantastic. You're funny, weirdly good at aiming, and pretty- Pretty cool. Whatever you think of yourself, I'd like to tell you that you should tell your brain to shut up 'cause you're pretty fuckin' amazing." He blinks and laughs a little; a sound that Scar could theoretically get addicted to, "Excuse my language."

"You mean it? Like no 'Haha, Scar I pranked you?'" 

Grian smiles, a faint tint of blush dusting his face, "Yeah, I mean it. 100%."

Scar could kiss Grian cry of joy right this second because that was maybe, no, definitely the best compliment he's gotten in his life. A soft, fuzzy feeling was starting to seep into his chest and Scar found himself wanting to feel like this till the end of time.

He grins, bright and ecstatic as he leans over and gives Grian a big hug. Grian stiffens up for a second before melting into Scar's touch. He was weirdly cold; like he'd been standing in a snowy tundra for a few hours but the cold felt unreasonably welcoming.

"Thanks, that means a lot to me." breathed Scar, pulling Grian impossibly closer for a moment before letting him go and patting him on the head.

Grian smiles as well, quickly combing his hands through his hair to fix the mess Scar had just created, "Just telling the truth." He says, moving a little closer to Scar on the couch.

Scar's heart is pounding out of his chest, drumming in his ears as he packs the last few moments into his memory to keep forever. A set of words starts looping endlessly through his head, one he really hopes isn't true because it may end up being a weird conversation to have with himself tomorrow.

I'm in love with my best friend.

Chapter Text

Pearl is standing next to a glass building, trying and failing to drum her metallic fingers on her thigh while waiting for her prey. She had swindled the government out of a bright yellow sweatshirt, a cap with the Watcher symbol embroidered on it, and grey sweatpants, just to change her colour scheme and fit her role a bit more.

Her goal was simple: find out about Gem's vigilante crew, fake 'Opal's' death and run back to Scott and the others. So far, Pearl had already discovered that the CuteGuy figure Joel and Martyn were crying about was some guy named Grian. When pretending to be a waiter, he had given her some very strange looks, almost like he knew who Pearl was without seeing her Corrupted self once.

Scar was also HotGuy -- Technically, she already knew and kept it a secret in Gem's name, but there wasn't exactly any harm in telling her crew now, was there? Other than the hair and explosion scar running across his face, Scar had truly seemed like some random raven Reborn whose goal was to kill Corrupteds, and if one thought about it more, then it did seem to get painfully obvious.

"Opal!"

Pearl almost forgets to react, but looks up after a second of processing. "Oh, Gem. You showed up. I thought I got played for a second there ."

Gem laughs, the same, painfully sweet laugh Pearl remembered between arrows and clashing swords; when it was so easy to forget that Gem hated her guts and was the reason Pearl now wore a prosthetic arm, "If I played you, then I'd be damned!"

"Is that so?" Pearl coos, a sly smile spilling onto her face, "Don't worry, I would've waited for you till the sun exploded."

Gem smiles and grabs Pearl's hand, pulling her through the glass doors into an overly humid greenhouse. Pearl cringes. The humidity is definitely going to make her organs all soggy. It's no fun.

"I've been here once before, but they've probably swapped a handful of the plants around. Have I told you I love plants?  Because I really do."

Never change, Gem, never change. "I can tell. Shall we, then?"

She and Gem spent the next few hours exploring the botanical garden. They had seen it all, from massive trees that only grew in the north to tiny prickly cacti from her hometown. Midway through, though, Gem had asked to take a photo.

"Opal, do you mind if we take a selfie? I wanna send it to my roommates." she chirps. 

On the one hand, if she decides to post it on her X account, everyone will see it and realise that this 'Opal' character is Pearl, and she will be busted. On the other hand, Pearl wanted to take this photo with Gem as a mental keepsake. Gem had said she would only share the photo with her roommates.

"Yeah, go ahead. Don't share it online though 'kay?"

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

The sun was floating in the sky, as always -- slowly inching closer to the horizon. Pearl and Gem had just finished their tour of the garden and were now sitting on a bench while Gem grins at the sweatshirts the two had snagged from the gift shop. The two sweatshirts had similar floral designs on them, only in different colours. Pearl almost expects hers to be red instead of an overly bright sunshine yellow, but she isn't Pearl. Why would Gem know who she is?

Pearl gets half of a 'Thank You' out of her mouth when her phone rings. From the ringtone, she can tell it's from Scott. Now, normally, Pearl would just pick up the phone like normal. However; she has a custom phone case that Gem would recognise almost instantly, and that's no fun. Pearl reaches into her pocket, prying off the plastic phone case before picking up the call like normal. She waits until Gem looks away to toss it into the trash can next to the bench. Rest in peace phone case, she'll miss that thing.

"Sorry Gem, gotta take this call. I'll be right back."

"It's fine, I'll be waiting right here!" Gem calls as Pearl walks away.

"Martyn shut it, I'm calling- Pearl? Pearl, you there? You've been gone for five days. What in the world are you doing?" Scott's voice asks, the smooth tone of his voice easily recognisable.

Pearl snorts, barely able to keep the tacky accent in her voice, "Why does that matter to you? I'm getting the job done, and you never specified a time. I'm gathering info about your little masked guy as we speak."

Silence, followed by yelling and shaking from the other side of the call could be heard before Joel's voice echoes out from the speaker, "Pearl, get your ass over here now! I want revenge on the dude!"

"Mhm... If I don't?"

"I'll go out there myself and drag your blooming ass back to this shitty mansion." he hisses distastefully, "Now hurry up, I swear to gosh I'll murder you if you don't get back here in the next five seconds."

Pearl hangs up, a smirk on her face. She then realises that Gem is most definitely staring at her, so she walks over and quickly explains she has to go due to an emergency.

"Really? Alright, if it's an emergency then, shoo." Gem laughs. The two hug briefly before Pearl grabs her new sweatshirt, waves and sprints down the sidewalk. Naturally, she had the path back to the safehouse ingrained into her brain, but pretending she had gotten lost was a very effective way of wasting time. 

A few blocks away from The Border, Pearl casually takes a curveball to the closest bathroom to check on her internal organs, of course. She tosses the yellow sweatshirt she was originally wearing off before quickly putting on the new one Gem had bought for her. It was too big but was pretty cutesy, maybe even a little bit too cutesy for someone like Pearl.

A few threatening messages from Joel that go along the lines of 'Hurry the fuck up you slow prick' to 'I WILL USE WHAT'S LEFT OF YOUR FLESH FOR BBAQ.' tell her to pick up her pace because Joel was one to follow his word, and Pearl quite liked her charred flesh.

Finally, she makes it back to the mansion, knocking on the door. Martyn opens it, shoots finger guns, and steps aside. Joel pops up in the doorway after Martyn moves aside and proceeds to throw a punch at Pearl with no hesitation. Luckily for her, she catches the jab and pulls her mechanical back, smashing the fist into Joel's face. Scott and Martyn erupt into a bout of laughter as the arachnid stumbles backwards, clearly dazed.

"Hey Pearl, welcome back! Have you learned mischievous?" Martyn asks, all thirty of his fingers clasping into a pleading motion that looked more demonic than the puppy-eye effect he was most likely going for.

Pearl grins, patting a now scowling Joel on the shoulder, "Yeah. But I gotta tell you something first."

Joel looks at Pearl expectantly while Scott makes a hand motion that tells her to keep speaking, "Scar is HotGuy," she makes a point of ignoring Martyn's groan and Joel's dramatic gasp, "Sorry I didn't you guys about that earlier, I made a pact of sorts."

"Of course HotGuy is Scar, that blummin' prick; I feel so stupid for not realizing earlier!" Joel growls, stomping around the room.

"Huh, those two don't act anything alike... But thanks for telling us anyway, Pearl. Don't mind Joel, he's doing Joel things." Scott hums, nodding slowly. Joel flips Scott off before snagging a bottle of what seems to be chloroform and downing the whole thing in one motion.

Because the Government generally restricted alcohol importation, there was always a lack of it around, and Scott usually got his hands on any alcoholic substances before anyone else could. Due to this, Joel had started stealing and drinking chemicals as a substitute for alcohol and the worst thing was that no one could stop him because it didn't harm him at all -- in fact, it only made his venom more potent the more and more he ingested. Despite watching Joel do this so many times, it still makes Pearl reel back in disgust when Joel mixes random liquids he probably found in a nuclear plant like it was a cocktail.

"Eugh, is that chloroform? Bring back breathing in formaldehyde!... Anyway, did you find anything out anything else about CuteGuy? I wanna burn him in lava!" Martyn cackles.

"Yeah, he lives with Scar and Gem and his name is Grian or something like that."

"HotGuy, CuteGuy, and Gemini. Sounds like someone's third wheeling." Joel sneers, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Pearl shrugs before realising that Scott's eyes were locked onto her sweatshirt, "Where'd you get that? I thought you were wearing the other yellow one when you left."

Damn it! "I got this from Gem, 'cause we went out together, so I can learn more about her new roomie."

"Oh, alright." Scott nods dubiously. Joel squints at her, and Martyn silently cracks his knuckles, but no one can be bothered to say anything, because they all already know the truth.

"Oi! Stop looking at me like that, especially you, Joel, with your 3:00 AM visits to Etho..." Pearl smirks when Joel snarls, stinger arching over his head before sighing and marching off to his car.

"Low blow, Pearl!" Martyn laughs, loudly clapping his hands together while Scott chuckles in the background.

Hey, Pearl thinks, at least she's keeping her flesh tonight.

Chapter Text

winnerz lounge

SMajor
now that we know about CG should we ambush him?
(1) Reply                                                                                                                                                                                                    
MARTYN — replying to SMajor
maybe not right now each of us have had some sort of punch @ him 
and literally none of us have won lmao

Joel
on xelquas head please let me fight him please please pleaseplasepalselpasepalseplawe

pearl
no.


MARTYN
fffuck no

SMajor
drinking acid is probably better for you ^-^

Joel
thats because it is.. idiot

pearl
it's not a good idea.
grain is blessed by xelqua's power remember?

Joel
die

SMajor
were all dead?!?

MARTYN
we are dead moron!

MARTYN
we're also so in sync 😍

SMajor
*gags*
anyways if you want I can go stalk grain or something
can pretend to be some paper boy or something!

Joel
fuck you!
but yes please do

pearl
guys i think his name is grian

Joel
shut up

MARTYN
shut up

SMajor
( -_•)︻デ═一

Joel
whth????

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

"I wanna go weapon shopping!~" Gem sings, twirling into the living room and wearing a new sweatshirt Grian had never seen before; sage green with a bright yellow tulip embroidered on the front, "Oh! Uh, am I interrupting something? I'll just go back outside..." she mumbles upon seeing him and Scar in a mildly compromising position. Grian was lying on the couch, head in Scar's lap while Scar dozed off, somehow sitting up straight.

"Wait, wait wait -- No! We're not doing anything, come back!" Grian yelped, shooting up from Scar's lap and zipping towards the door, catching it before Gem could open it and disappear out the other side.

Scar yawns, waking up, and briefly glancing at Gem before gasping dramatically. "Oh, oh! Nononono! Gem, you've misunderstood," he says, waving his hands.

"Misunderstood... Uh-huh.." Gem hums dubiously, but she quickly switches topics, maybe due to wanting to save Grian's dignity, "Anyway, I really wanna go weapon shopping! I know it's kind of illegal, but there's a booth near the Boundaries and you know..."

"Gem! I don't want you to spend all your money in one day," says Scar in an accusatory tone, a thick layer of sleepiness in his voice. Grian nods in agreement, it'd be tragic for Gem to break the bank.

"I know! But, those stocks that I invested in randomly blew up! And it tragically hit me that I'm probably not going to live long enough to make it to retirement, so I'm spending them right now!..." she drawls, starting to pace around the room to make her point.

"You invested in stocks?" Grian asks with a huff of laughter. Gem makes a strange face before bursting out into laughter.

"No! Sorry, I didn't. I just heard of the pop-up shop and wanted to go." she laughs, a sweet smile on her lips.

Scar raises his eyebrows, an impressed grin on his pretty face before reaching into his back pocket to grab his phone, "Pop-up shop? Woah, that's double illegal. How did you even find that shop without being arrested on the spot?"

Gem shrugs, "I just downloaded a third-party browser and prayed I wouldn't get a virus."

"Oi, you shouldn't use those browsers, I'm pretty sure it's illegal virtually everywhere in this... Erm, planet." Grian retorts, a jokingly serious look on his face. Watchers, please tell me you saw that and will bless me with good luck..?

You are the Watcher.

I know.

You can still dominate LIFE. Strike now, don't let the chance slip away.

...

For god's sake, leave me alone for three goddamn seconds. Just let me enjoy something for once.

You'll thank me later.

I know. I wish I didn't.

Someone was calling his name. Who was it? Everything was a little blurry, maybe he should stop having abrupt conversations with ██████.

...Who was he talking about again?

"-rian, Grian! Are you okay? You've been standing there like a pet rock." Scar calls out, shaking him from his thoughts. Grian pulls a grin onto his face and nods in the same energetic manner Scar illuminated every second of the day. Scar has a lovely personality, now that Grian thinks about it more.

"Yeah, I'm good. What were you saying?" Grian says, trying to act very, very casual. He was hoping he didn't look suspicious, to which he probably didn't.

"We're gonna go to the weapon shop and were wondering if you'd like to come?" Gem inquires, tilting her head like a curious dog, "The place is only eight miles away, if distance is what you're worried about."

Weapons? Well, Grian could use something else than a stolen gun. "Oh, yeah. I'd love to go!"

"Lovely!" coos Scar, a light grin on his face. The tone Scar had used sent tiny little tingles down Grian spine; maybe Grian'll just have to act more ecstatic to get Scar to do his pleased voice or start an ASMR channel or something. Either would definitely work.

After a few more minutes of the trio conversing, Grian goes into the bathroom to pretend to shove his stinger into his backpack while Gem and Scar do their normal thing. Soon enough, the three of them were finally ready to leave, all looking like standardly normal human beings.

Grian was mildly disappointed that Scar had covered up the explosion mark going across his face... It gave him character! But, life's not fair -- he'd know, 'cause he'd basically created it.

Gem decides that using her car would be better, as she has more space, just in case one of them develops a magical shopping addiction and goes a bit over budget. He supposes that's fair, but Grian is starting to get attached to a certain black Honda.

Finally, Grian, Scar, and Gem hop into the car, with him and Scar in the backseat while Gem in the front.

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

Just about 9 minutes later, they finally arrive to the weapon shop. Gem drags the two of them into a shady looking alley way, where the alley opens up to this patch in a forest. Colourful stands were put up everywhere.

"Pardon, does that one say 'Best Assassination Tools!?'" observed Grian. He squinted at the sign and the array of shiny, shiny daggers. Ones that he might even have to take for himself.

"Mhm, don't buy from there, the knives and guns may seem pretty, but the name of the place alone will get you arrested." scolded Gem, smirking and putting her hands on her hips, but clearly eyeing a booth on her left. She turns arouund and starts walking forward before remembering that Gem had taken two guests with her. She quickly reaches into her pocket and pulls out four crisp 100 dollar bills, "Sorry, here! Should be enough to buy one or two things. I'm gonna go check out that booth that says self-defense but I'll be honest, it's probably for anything but self-defense. See you two, and don't get up to any trouble!"

After Gem gives Grian and Scar a good reprimand for something they haven't done yet, she waves and jogs off to the booth, "Bye, have a great time!" bubbled Scar, rapidly waving after Gem, even though she wouldn't even see him waving anyway.

"Er, so what are we supposed to do again?" asks Grian after a few beats of Scar waving at a dissapearing Gem. Scar looks over and shrugs.

"I dunno, 'cause I use a bow I don't really need anything. How about you?"

"Okay.." Well, he could use something other than a gun... Aha! Over there! "How 'bout over there, with all the lovely glittery bits?" He waves at a blue tent with golden decor hanging off of the turf.

Scar looks over, nodding in approval, "That looks cool. I was gonna say we could go over there-" he stops talking to point to a desert themed tent. A collection of brass knuckles, tipped arrows, and little daggers sit on a table, obsidian and sparkling in the sun. It almost makes Grian wish he had brought his own pendant to fiddle with, "-but we can go there if you'd like."

That looks pretty. "...Alright, here's what we're gonna do. We can go there first, and then to the cool tent over there." Scar grins in approval, clapping his hands together. Grian looks at the seller in the blue tent, brown eyes meet his and the seller happily waves. Grian quickly waves back before nudging Scar and going over to the desert tent.

As they approach, Scar gasps in excitement. "Ohmygosh, G, they have tipped arrows, did you notice they had tipped arrows?" He squints at Grian, reading his expression before blinking and clearing his throat, "Don't answer that."

The lady who was running the booth looks up and smiles, "Welcome to Third LIFE, the only quality obsidian weapon producer, where we reuse boiling lava and turn it into the items you see on this table. Can I get you two started with anything?"

Grian peers at the table. The knuckles were neat, but he doesn't participate in hand-to-hand combat too often. The daggers were too close range, and he doesn't have a bow on hand. "...Scar, are you gonna get anything?"

"What effects are on these?" Scar asks, a hand hovering over the faintly glowing arrows.

"This one should be harming, and that one's poison. Can I help you to one?..." the seller pauses for a second, looking from Scar, to Grian, then to Scar again, "Couples get 25% off, since it's Saturday." she says quietly.

Grian can feel his face starting to warm up, hopefully from embarrassment, as his eyes fly wide open. He props himself up, standing up straighter, "Oh, no. Sorry ma'am you've gotten it complete- mph!?" he starts, before Scar's hand abruptly cuts him off.

"Yes, we're dating. I'll have six harming arrows, thank you." Scar says, a cunning smile on his face. He briefly looks at Grian, giving him a look that said 'sorry' before facing the seller again. Grian sighs, the souund muffled as he waits for Scar to finish his purchase.

Grian looks away for a second, line of sight drifting off to the trees behind the seller.

...

Did that shadow just change shapes?

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

Scar had taken another 5 minutes to futilely barter with the woman, only to be turned down. He takes the price that he gets and the two quickly run off to the blue tent.

"Oh, another lovely pair of people coming to buy, nice to see you on this fine Saturday. Tell me if you wanna buy something!" The man that had waved to Grian from was now standing in front of him, leaning on the table. The man had a warm scottish accent with dusty brown hair, starkly contrasting the cold, blue eyes piercing his soul.

...Blue eyes? Weren't they brown? And is that crate back there shaking or is he simply going crazy?

"Yeah, what's that double-headed spear priced for back there? Er, is it even for sale?"

"You've got a good eye," the man chuckles, turning around to grab the bident, "It wasn't really selling, so it's at a pretty hefty discount right now. Just around 50% off."

"That wasn't selling?!" gasps Scar, eyebrows raised in shock.

The seller laughs, uncomfortably sweet, "Yep. Not a lot of people use these y'know? Especially because most people buy weapons here to... Do things that I don't relate to."

Grian blinks, did this dude just change the topic? "Price?"

"Yes, Er, two-fifty right now I'd wager. Or, if you pay in diamonds that's ten of those little gems."

Scar hands over the money, to which Grian reaches out for the spear, but the seller doesn't hand it over. "Sorry, this one's getting old and frankly, it's starting to chip. We can mail you one by tomorrow, you just have to give me your address, no shipping fee!"

"Ah," Grian stammers in confusion, what kind of seller doesn't inform their customers of that first?!

Scar seemingly hesitates too, but quickly gives in. "Yeah, it's Riverside Apartments, the one near Boardwalk's Coffee?"

The seller nods, a sly look on his face, "Lovely."

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

Grian and Scar finally find Gem again after thirty minutes. She's standing in the middle of the place, looking around. A battleaxe is resting on her shoulder, laced with netherite and diamonds. "Oh, I've been looking for you two everywhere, ready to go back?"

"Yep, got some tipped arrows and- Woah, that's a big axe." Scar cuts himself off, eyeing the massive axe Gem was holding.

"That must of been expensive," Grian adds, eyes glued to the glittering blades.

Gem giggles, shifting the handle a little, "Maybe a little expensive, but it was so worth it!" she pauses, faltering, "Not sure if it's gonna fit in the trunk though."

"Hey, you don't know until you try!" Grian says, ready to get the hell out of the place.

As the three walk back to the car, he wonders what's up with that seller and whether it was wise to give a complete stranger their address.

No, Grian decides as he hops into the backseat, it most likely wasn't.

Chapter Text

When Gem gets back, she has to resist the urge to clean the netherite axe that lay in her hands obsessively. It was weirdly cheap, and also super cool.

Guess you could add "purchasing from the black market" to her crimes committed list. Then again, Joel had taught her that you won't get arrested if they can't figure out you committed the crime.

While Gem lugs her axe into her room, Grian and Scar almost instantly throw themselves onto the couch and start talking incessantly. Naturally, she had to snoop a little, how couldn't she? And boy...

Setting up the armour stands, they don't discuss anything particularly interesting. It mostly was light chatter and something about Scar's longest-lasting Tamagotchi named Bubbles. It was when Gem started to consider joining in on the conversation, that Grian and Scar started to talk about someone almost worth recording.

"Have you ever been to Disney?" Scar asks, obviously Scar. No one else can talk about Disney like he does.

"Unfortunately, no. I don't think I've ever heard of it." Grian replies almost instantly. Pretty reasonable, Disney used to be pretty expensive if you didn't have those yearly passes.

A ruffling of fabric is heard, presumably Scar moving around. "Really? Well, it's a really, really fun amusement park like Cedar Point and I used to go like every year." he starts, excitement buzzing in his voice, before dimming down drastically, "They kind of got rid of the park though, and I don't think I'll ever get to go again; I made some good memories there."

Silence passes by as Gem slowly presses her ear up to the wooden door, cringing when the floorboards slightly squeak. However, the duo don't seem to notice and keep talking, "So, let me get this straight; this Disney place was probably making a whole ton of money for the government, and they just, got rid of it?! Just like that?" Grian exclaims, a slight buzz audible through the door.

Scar sighs, "Yeah, this whole country hates happiness or something. I wanted to be one of those people who design and make rollercoasters, too! But here I am, HotGuy-ing people forever." He mutters bitterly, "Not that I don't like doing this — it's very rewarding, but not what I would have chosen to do."

"I get it. ...Hey don't look at me like that, I do, truly." Grian shoves Scar playfully with a giggle, causing an unruly squawk to emit from him, "The being made to do something you don't really wanna part."

Then, it's silent again, and once again does Gem consider walking into the living room, but mid door-knob-twist, Scar pipes up again.

"Your hair looks really soft, Grian," he says quietly. Gem has to open the door a little to even hear him.

Grian breathes in sharply, "...You think so?"

"Yeah." through the gap, Gem can see Scar smiling as he scoots a bit closer to Grian, "You're uh..."

"I'm...?" Grian asks with a sly tone to his voice. Gem mentally gags.

"Handsome? Pretty, uh, y'know." Scar blurts, making incomprehensible hand motions while he says it.

Grian proceeds to make a bunch of weird, confused noises before clearing his throat, "You think so?"

The two start leaning closer, and closer together before they're about 5-ish inches away from each other. Gem decides this is a great time to interrupt their conversation before she sees something she regrets.

Gem steps out quickly, slamming to door behind her with an innocent smile on her face. Grian and Scar jump at the same time, moving apart from each other. Grian hops backwards and tries to put his feet up on a non-existent table, causing him to flail around like a dying snake. Scar hastily scoots backwards before nervously blabbering about some random topic again.

Gem can't help the smirk that starts growing on her face before laughing uncontrollably. "Oooh my! I didn't realize it was like that! I won't tell anyone, I swear."

Grian groans while Scar shakes his head frantically. Ah, denial at its finest.

Just as Gem was about to say something like; 'Just kidding!', an annoying siren starts wailing through the apartment. Gem's mood sours in record time as Scar puts on his serious face and jumps off of the couch. Grian opens his mouth, but closes it again, sighing and getting up as well.

Now, don't get her wrong -- she loves her roommate, platonically. Scar was a great guy with great humour. What's there not to like about him?

It's just that when he gets devoted to something, you can't make him stop, even if it's going to drive Scar clinically insane. Watching his bubbly personality melt away is almost horrific. All Gem wants to do is get him to chill for at least a week, and yet she could never do it herself.

When Grian had come around, he had done it so easily; gotten Scar to put the bow down and actually enjoy life for a little bit. And yet, it seemed like Scar could never pull himself away from the black hole of his own guilt. Gem had told Scar over and over that nothing was his fault, he didn't choose to be thrown into a world of cruelty. Still, he pushed on.

Grian is good for Scar, Gem decides as she goes into her room to tug on the tight fabric of her costume. A lot better than Gem was, but of course she can't discredit herself.

Gem automatically pulls herself toward her drawer of little weapons and daggers, before looking at the armour stand. She did just put that up... But displaying can come second, fighting first!

A few minutes later, Gem is opening the window, beckoning to a blindfolded Grian and a Scar who had somehow gotten his hands on arrows of harming. Probably from the weapon splurge they had just went through.

She dives out the window, spreading her wings and flailing around when the axe weighs her down. Much like a mace, it was heavy but could deal a massive amount of damage if wielded correctly

Grian and Scar eventually pop out the window, both clearly used to going down the stairwell.

"That has to be heavy," Grian points out, waving toward Gem's axe while simultaneously helping Scar's wings fit through the wooden frame. 

Gem shrugs, a grin spreading on her face, "Trust me, I can handle a challenge."

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

As a dragonfly, Gemini naturally soars through the sky with ease, cutting through the wind like paper -- except, when you're dragging around a massive netherite axe the ability to zip around and do barrel rolls decreases substantially. While she mourns not being able to flip around in the sky, HotGuy points out some guy staring at the trio, pointing and waving down.

"That's weird," says Gemini, squinting at the figure. A man with brown hair and ocean-blue eyes looks up, a bubble-wrapped polearm in hand.

CuteGuy leans forward, as if looking closer. Suddenly, he gasps and nudges HotGuy, and... Did Gemini just see a flash of purple from the corner of her eye? "Dude, that's the seller that I bought the polearm thingy from!"

"Oh, neat! You can go talk to him." HotGuy says, dropping down from the sky a little.

CuteGuy flutters down as Gemini starts panicking. That's a random civilian and CuteGuy was just going to say 'hello' like everything was fine?! "HG, no! We're literal Reborns."

HotGuy mumbles a soft 'shit' before quickly rocketing down to the ground. Gemini follows in pursuit, just in case she has to kill the seller.

When she gets into earshot, the seller is already talking to CuteGuy, "Grian! Hello, I've got your package right here. Please enjoy, as you'll most likely need it."

CuteGuy grabs the double-edged spear, using his stinger to cut through the bubble wrap and brandishing it. And then, he stops, the happy smile on his face fading as he looks at the blue-eyed man in front of him, "How do you know my... God, how do you even know I was going to be here?!"

The seller only smiles, before disappearing into a flurry of soft scales, white and pure as snow.

"What on earth?" CuteGuy mutters, reaching his hand out into the snowfall of scales only to pull his hand back in pain. A rash was starting to form on his hand. "Ouch... Scales? Oh, oh my gosh, that was a moth -- a moth Reborn."

HotGuy huffs humourlessly as Gemini stares in shock. So much for Gem and the Scotts.

"That, my friend, was The Tiger Moth, the first winner and Corrupted." mutters HotGuy, "I gave him our address too."

"What?!" Gemini exclaims, panic buzzing through her veins once more.

"I-it's fine! Let's just kill him and move on with our lives, yeah?" CuteGuy chatters, pacing nervously.

Gemini sighs, "I'm confident he could wipe us out all on his own."

Then, the world, no, her perception of the world starts melting into a horrible rainbow goop. Gemini staggers backwards, blinking rapidly as a voice rings out behind her, "Wow, such praises! I really don't deserve them, Gem."

Chapter Text

Gemini jumps, whipping around and swinging the axe. Instead of the blade meeting flesh, it meets the concrete, a painful reverberation echoing through her body.

The world was only a little melty. Nothing she isn't used to at this point.

"Gemini? What's wrong?" CuteGuy calls out, moving towards her.

"Tiger Moth's tryna confuse me. Don't worry, I'm basically immune at this point."

HotGuy grins, surprisingly, "That's my combat god. Let's beat this freak's ass." 

The Tiger Moth, or as the Government described him; One Blessed By The Divine, suddenly whirls down from the sky, a mildly insulted look on his face — quite a lot of expression for someone who only has one iris in his head.

"Very, very rude, Scar." The Moth says, rolling his eyes. He pulls on the stars forming a crown around his head, tugging one down and holding it in his hand. "I don't really wanna fight today, just wanted to scare you a little bit," he says, staring into the mini sun in his hands.

CuteGuy responds by shooting him point-blank in the forehead. The stupid stars spin around The Tiger Moth's head to block the bullet, reflecting right off and bouncing onto the floor. "Gosh, choosing violence today aren't we, Grian?"

"I'm sorry, who?" CuteGuy asks, staring The Moth down. "I don't seem to recognize who that is."

The Moth clicks his tongue distastefully, spinning around in the air. "Don't play dumb.~" he cheerfully sings, the hint of poison still lingering behind his voice.

CuteGuy rolls his eyes, "That's ridiculous."

Gemini, despite feeling a bit nauseous from the flashing rainbows flooding her vision, started formulating a plan. It couldn't be that hard to beat the man, after all, she had killed him once or twice. From previous encounters, she knew for a fact that The Moth prefers to use psychological warfare instead of actually fighting. When he did need to fight, that's when he started using the stars. Seemingly, they could transform into practically anything; from shurikens to a full-on sword.

She wasn't sure if the stars were only attached to him, or if they worked for any person. Most likely, it would be the latter, because long ago he was known for his honourability, so, of course, he'd have something that The Moth could share with his teammates. She wasn't sure if it was true, but Gemini was very willing to find out.

Looking HotGuy and CuteGuy in the eyes, well, only HotGuy's eyes, she nods toward The Moth. Distract him, please.

HotGuy blinks in her direction, like a word of confirmation before snatching an arrow, pulling the bowstring back and letting loose. It doesn't do much damage if even any at all. But that seemed to annoy The Tiger Moth enough to finally stop flapping around like a damsel in distress.

The Tiger Moth sighs exasperatedly, "Ow. I didn't want to do this, Scar." he pulls the arrow of harming out of his ribs and makes a hand gesture. The stars spin down like a constellation, forming a bow of The Moth's own.

There were now two stars left.

One that was 100% protecting The Moth's brains, that was for sure.

The other though, was sitting behind his head, threaded between teal locks.

Gemini watches as CuteGuy aims his gun at The Moth's head, while HotGuy flies up, black wings galliantly carrying him up.

She just had to find one second of weakness, that's it.

An array of bullets, whizzes of weapons being thrown, and a dozen golden arrows later, Gemini was starting to get tired. The rainbow goop was starting to blur her vision, leaving her only a circle of coherent vision.

The Tiger Moth's illusions were akin to drugs -- Euphoric at first, but five seconds later, you're dope sick; painful headaches, chills, and maybe even vomiting, considering that the strobe of colours already made her nauseous.

Gemini still had a handful of minutes left before she would need to retreat. Too much and it would be no good.

Finally, after The Moth runs out of arrows to fire, he lunges towards HotGuy, trying to wrangle the taller to the ground, grasping at the quiver on HotGuys back.

"No, no! Get off." CuteGuy exclaims worriedly. His stinger swings over, stabbing The Moth in the shoulder, or so he thought.

The Moth had backed away at the very last second, leaving HotGuy on the ground, stung. By CuteGuy's venom. "Watchers, HotGuy?! I'm sorry."

HotGuy doesn't respond, because until the venom wore off, he would be practically rendered useless unless CuteGuy started ordering him around, which Gemini severely doubted.

In the air with a shocked expression like he was even surprised he didn't get stung, hovered The Moth, chuckling to himself.

Still, The Moth was rendered still.

Wait.

He's not moving!

Gemini buzzes her nimble wings, axe dragging across the ground as she launches herself at The Tiger Moth. Unevenly, maybe. But you can blame that on the stupid fuzz covering her vision.

The Tiger Moth gasps, trying to wriggle out of her grasp before resorting to a dropkick, sending Gemini to the concrete below.

She catches herself, flying at The Moth again. Gemini tumbles in the air before swinging the axe over her head and putting all her strength into a blow. The Moth barely catches the blade of the axe, sinking through his gloves and into the flesh. Blood and ichor spilled out of the wound, gold and bright red swirling together.

The axe is tossed aside. Well, Gemini wouldn't mind a bit of hand-to-hand combat. She throws a jab to The Moth's face, following up with a reverse. The Moth winces, backing up and pulling off a hook kick, gracefully turning in the air due to the lack of ground. Almost gracefully -- It would be considered graceful if his arm wasn't dripping with blood.

Gemini grits her teeth, the melting feeling sinking further into her head. It was getting harder to stay upright, but once again, nothing she hadn't fought through before. While still facing her opponent, she whizzes herself higher and higher into the air. She hadn't tried doing what she was about to do, but it never hurt to try.

She doesn't ever think about it much, but Gemini isn't just any dragonfly -- she's a green darner dragonfly. This means that with the right conditions, she could travel at 56 kilometres an hour.

Gemini covers her face with her forearms, angles herself downwards, and starts her descent.

She's going down, down, down. So fast that if Gemini tried to, she wouldn't be able to stop. But she didn't want to stop.

This was for Scar, for his mission, for hers, for Pearl. 

Everything comes to a sudden stop as she collides with The Tiger Moth, an audible crack as The Moth falls backwards. He hits the ground with a thunk, taking a second before sitting up. One out of the two last stars was being used as a force field around him, but one glimmering hunk of concentrated power wasn't enough to stop some sort of impact. 

The arm covering his face was shattered, absolutely shattered. It was bent in every wrong way, the forearm splintered to what could be considered two.

Gemini lands on the ground, smiles at HotGuy's jaw which was practically on the ground at this point, and CuteGuy who was giving an approving round of applause.

She takes the star off of The Moth's head, holding it in her hand.

It was warm but cold at the same time, the molten fire burning her eyes. Gemini tries to turn it into something, but nothing works.

Gemini almost punches The Moth when she hears him giggle at her struggle with the glowing object. However, she doesn't because she was genuinely starting to feel kind of bad.

"Gem, have you ever considered the phrase, 'wish upon a star'?" The Moth asks, rummaging through his pockets.

"You're just, giving me the answer?" she mumbles, confused. Gemini tries it anyway, wishing for a sword and gasping as the constellation bow abandoned on the ground shapeshifted into a sword, a long blade extending from the star she was holding.

It worked.

"Pretty isn't it?"

Gemini kind of wanted to end The Moth's life, but then again... He did just give her the key to using this thing.

"Can I have it back now?" he asks, sitting on the ground like all the bones in his arm hadn't exploded.

"Maybe If you were a better person." Gemini grins. The Moth groans, hands in his pockets before pulling out a potion bottle. Glossy and extremely colourful. He stares Gemini right in the eyes as he pops off the cork and downs the whole thing, very casually.

Then, he snapped his fingers, and she couldn't see a thing. She could see something; herself, but everything else was drenched in a radioactive goop.

"What... Is this? If you think this is really gonna work on me then-"

A wave of pain and nausea floods her body, wrecking her head and causing her to stumble around.

"Gemini?" she hears someone call out. Vaguely, a panel of strobing lights shifts, moving towards her.

Her throat is starting to hurt, clogging up any words that she wanted to explain. Gemini?? wobbles forward, collapsing onto the ground.

Was she falling? Maybe she was falling. Gemini wasn't exactly sure at this point. Each lock of rainbow swirls and stripes bulged out at her like hands, reaching to tear her apart.

Finally, a strand of mildly coherent words fall out of her mouth, "Sc- The Tiger Moth- Scott... I don't know, I don't know what's wrong!" she cries out, looking for her friends, sidekicks, anyone. Instead, everything was a dreadful spectrum of colours. It hurt, her head hurt.

"Gem, this is a little pitiful, isn't it? Land's best fighter, reduced to stumbling around like a brainless mosquito."

"What the fuck did you do?! Why can't I-" Spinning, spinning... Gem's mouth filled with saliva, stars filling her vision as she keeled over. She gags, once, twice, before vomiting up anything she had eaten that day.

It was horribly acidic and burned her throat. Gemini coughs and sputters as she staggers back up, desperately trying to erase the taste of bile from her mouth, "Gah, what is happening, why can't I see anything, where is everyone?!"

The nausea was so much worse than usual, dreadfully worse. Head poundingly worse. It made Gem want to cut her own head off.

"---- Gem! Are you -----  Gem, respond, please!"

"Oh, eugh." Scott mutters, distastefully stepping around Gem's soup of stomach acids, "Joel's concoctions really do work! I should thank him, do you think I should thank him?"

There, there He was. He didn't look much like a villain when she thinks about it, more like a graceful angel here to give you a baptism or something. One eye was missing a pupil while the other glimmered gleefully, like diamonds. Massive moth wings draped around His body like a cloak. He looked at Gem curiously, like she was a science experiment. His arm was fine now, smooth skin covering anything she thought would be there.

"Gem, oh Gem, am I happy to finally talk to you like mature adults! It's been like...  few months I'd wager. Not very nice to try to murder me at first sight though." Scott sings, circling Gem.

Gem steps backwards, trying to squint through the dizzying maze of rainbows, "I thought you were all about honour, what happened?... Watchers, this sucks."

Scott blinks, cocking his head to the side as his wings shoot out in protest, "Honourable? Yes, I'm being honourable. I'm helping you Gem. Your friend over there -- he's gonna kill you, do you know that?"

"Who- No, that doesn't matter. They wouldn't hurt me, not one of them. Grian and Scar wouldn't do that. Can you let me out of this nightmare now, please?!" Gem squeaks, painfully desperate as she curls up into herself, closing her eyes and trying to rid herself of rainbow spirals. Even when she closed her eyes, she could still see it as clear as day. It was horrible.

Scott clicks his tongue distastefully, "I'm only doing this because we were good friends and I'm deciding to ignore the fact that you tried to murder me a few minutes ago. Just watch out." Then He snaps his fingers and the strobe of colours disappears, but Scott the Tiger Moth doesn't. He dusts his pants off, still sitting on the ground.

Gemini blinks a few times, and she looks around, realizing that she was standing in the same spot the whole time. The star-sword was still in her hand, and everything seemed painfully normal. Well; aside from the bile dripping down her chin, and the concerned look CuteGuy's face. He was knelt next to a still-paralyzed HotGuy who was propped up on a wall, staring blankly ahead of himself.

She wipes away the bile on her face before being embraced into a tight hug, "Gem- Gemini! You weren't responding... What happened!?" CuteGuy exclaims worriedly before backing up and wrinkling his nose once he realizes he's stepped in vomit. 

"Ew! Er, you got freakishly still, then randomly kneeled over and vomited everywhere -- Are you okay?" CuteGuy asks, wings buzzing softly, "I wasn't really sure how to help you, I was about to call the police."

Suddenly, as Gemini was mid-response, a flash of red and blue was spotted in the corner of her eye. It scares her so badly that she almost tumbles over, but she realizes that it was only the Heroes, at least one of them.

"Gosh, Scott! What in the world are you doing all the way out here?" Ren says, stepping out of a car and holding out a hand. The Moth takes it and gets pulled up.

"It's complicated," he says with a joyful tone. Ren sighs and pulls The Moth into the back of the car and goes into the front seat himself shortly before sticking his head out the window.

"Hey friends, just saying, it's kind of illegal to assault these guys, especially after the sun has set." Ren calls out accusingly.

CuteGuy gasps, before deflating exasperatedly. "Dude! He literally tried to kill us first."

The Moth is seen peering over Ren's shoulder, "He took the first shot!" he sings.

"If you're seen out again, I will arrest you!" Ren says with a toothy smile, lips pulling back to reveal his animalistic teeth. Then, the car swerves around, speeding down the road and into the distance.

CuteGuy sighs, tugging at a newly formed hole in his outfit, "I think I understand what you mean by the Heroes and Government having a maximum of one brain cell."

He walks over to HotGuy, his eyes shimmering a royal purple, maybe more than normal? "You can be normal, or something. I don't know, er, abracadabra!"

Somehow, it seems to work as HotGuy gasps and sits up, frantically looking around. "Gem! You're okay, gosh what happened?!... Did I miss everything? I'm so sorry I-"

"Hey, it's fine! I'm fine, he's," Gemini waves at CuteGuy "-fine. So don't worry too much, 'kay?"

HotGuy relaxes, slowly standing up and stretching his wings out, "Being paralyzed by wasp-y boy over there is quite the experience." he nudges CuteGuy, then Gemini on the shoulder, "Welp, let's go home now?"

"Yes, please... Let me get my axe first."

Chapter Text

Scott is sitting in the backseat of Ren's car, whistling softly while picking and peeling away at little scraps of skin from the impact of Gem earlier.

Don't get him wrong, he really didn't expect the vigilante to crash into him at like, thirty miles an hour. He also didn't expect the concoction that Joel had brewed up for him to actually work, or to that degree. He didn't even know what Gem was seeing! All Scott had seen was Gem vomit all over the floor, and it was frankly, gross.

The moth had also given away one of his stars, which isn't a big deal, but now there was a gap in his halo of stars and it now looked more like a crown than a halo which honestly pissed him off.

After a wave of silence, Ren starts talking, "Dude, what were you doing all the way out there? That alleyway is fifteen miles away from your place of living, and I know for a fact you had to walk that distance." 

What was he doing out there?

"I was..." Trying to warn Gem about Grian.

Trying to see a real person.

Trying to get Scar to wake the hell up.

Scott pauses uncharacteristically, "Trying to get some fresh air. All the smoke from Joel's burning Ferrari makes the place unlivable. Especially because his room is right next to mine and he can't be bothered to get a fire extinguisher."

He takes a second to look around the car. Scott doesn't usually talk to Ren a lot, because it's always Jimmy who drags him back to The Border. The backseat was clean, shiny, and untouched -- The same couldn't be said for the driver and passenger seats. The radio seemed busted, the rear-view mirror was almost detached from the roof, glass partially missing. The passenger seat was collecting an endless amount of dust, like it was saved for somebody who left and never came back.

The weirdest little trinket Scott saw was a pack of cigarettes sitting in the cupholder, coincidentally the same brand Martyn carries around all the time.

Ren clears his throat awkwardly, "Anyways, heard you were talkin' to Martyn recently?"

Scott makes a point of shrugging and not mentioning all the... sultry moments he's had with Martyn over the period they've been stuck together, "I guess you could say that. Kind of an asshole to everyone though."

"Sounds like him," laughs the wolf Reborn. His hands grip tighter on the steering wheel.

"He talks about you a lot if it makes anything better." Scott quickly adds. He knows how close Ren and Martyn had been before Limited LIFE and honestly, he didn't mean to separate the two, it was an accident, truly.

Ren's ears perk up and he almost crashes the car into a building by trying to turn around and face Scott. "Really? What about?"

Scott can't help but laugh a little. These two... "It's mostly about how great and handsome and great you are. He must really like you." Scott teases. He finds joy in watching Ren's facial expressions conform in this super flustered and skrunkly way.

"Tell him I said hello, then." Ren smiles sadly, "Dude, I honestly wouldn't even be doing all this hero stuff if it wasn't to get closer to Martyn. It only seems to be tearing us further apart though." he finishes with a sigh.

"Awh! You two are adorable. It's okay, I wouldn't wanna be in your position either." reasurred Scott with a florish of his hands. "I wouldn't quit if I were you, though. Like, you've already started, and it gets you a lot of reputation points and money so why stop now?"

The man shrugs, "Yeah, I get a whole ton of free stuff everywhere I go."

A few minutes later, Ren hits the breaks and appearing on the horizon is the lovely mansion Scott's been living in for the past 3 years. "Welp, think we've arrived buddy, have fun scheming or whatever you do."

"Thank you! I will," Scott crowed. He opens the car door and flies into the night sky, waving briefly to the shape of Ren's car before turning around and starting his way towards the mansion.

It's truly a sight and not a pretty one. The place is an amalgamation of materials and decorations that are honestly, extremely ugly to look at. The main centrepiece belongs to Scott, of course. All shimmery with Binkie, his axolotl, sitting in an ichor-filled pond for all to see. To the left of his building is Martyn, basically a massive hourglass whacked into a concrete building. On top of the building is Pearl's lonely spire and to the very right, a new building which is just a house with Joel's car crashed into it from his extravagant entrance.

There's a part of the mansion that no one talks about, though. A tall structure made out of acacia wood straight from the safari, overgrown with plants and sunflowers and random objects scattered from top to bottom. The whole place really gave abandoned vibes, but the trinkets that littered the floor were always a little too dirty, and the wood always seemed a little too worn down.

It's Scar's. Scar's building that everyone refuses to acknowledge because you'd either get really annoyed that Scar decided to rebel or really sad because you could have been one person less lonely out here. Scott seems to be the only one to think the latter.

Imagine how cool Scar would have looked Corrupted! It'd also be nice to have his manipulation tactics put to use. But nope! The raven Reborn just had to ditch and then proceed to fight them all, for some reason.

The moth lands at the front door, grand but depressingly boring. He swings open the doors and is greeted by the interior he sees every day. Furniture lazily placed in the splay of minimalist rooms; not Scott's style at all. Martyn is lying on the light blue couch that Scott tends to run into every time he walks through the shared living room. He's sprawled out on the couch, one hand tapping annoyingly on the frame, another holding a phone, and the four others doing their own thing.

If one were to go to the right, they would see Joel's section of the place which was basically a massive storage unit connected to the arachnid's bedroom. Judging by the horrific rap music blasting through the walls, Joel was very much home right now.

"Ayup! You're back... Early? Uh, not sure, but welcome!" Martyn calls out, his hand making a peace sign and angling it at Scott.

Scott waves back, despite Martyn not even looking at him, "Hey, Mean Gill. Ren says hi."

That gets Martyn to stop staring at his phone, "Ren? Really?"

"Uh huh, I told him allll about your indecent drooling over him. Ren really likes you, y'know?"

Martyn huffs, sitting up, "I am not drooling over Ren, I don't even, uh, like him like that! Don't accuse me of such things."

"Yes, and saying his name in your sleep is very, very straight and friend-like." Scott can't help but laugh at Martyn's pissed expression, "You can just admit it, no one is murdering you yet."

"It's not like tha-"

"Yes, it is! Stop denying it!"  Comes a call from the stone stairwell behind Martyn. Pearl's voice echoes off the walls and causes Scott to burst out laughing. Once he stops laughing his ass off, Scott pats a mildly flustered and upset Martyn on the shoulder.

"I'm just teasing you, don't worry, you're adorable. I love ya," he reassures, and he means it because before Joel, Martyn, and even Pearl, it was just Scott. Scott, himself, and the people with whom he could make imaginary friends within his head.

It was lonely, painstakingly lonely, and cold. Being isolated miles away from civilization made Scott start to regret agreeing to be a Government test subject. Hours melted into years, and other than wishing he were dead sleeping, Scott didn't exactly have much to do with his time.

He'd like to imagine it makes his actions reasonable because it does because anyone would start murdering and torturing and killing innocent citizens after being abandoned and left alone for months and months.

Torturing? Hah, no. He wasn't torturing anyone. If anything, he was healing them, removing this world of its sins.

Scott gets up, patting Martyn on the head before walking past the stone spire to his room. Shiny and clean as always. Grand and beautiful as a star, as always.

He closes the doors behind him and sit criss-cross on the bed too big for one person because everything was wrong and wrong and maybe he was the mattress and the duvet is him because its lonely and cold in here without anyone else.

But other than that, Scott Major was doing absolutely fantastic and the mirror he avoided with his life that sat in the corner of the room wasn't showing his reflection, no, it couldn't be. It was someone else because that couldn't possibly be the great man who had won Last LIFE. The chivalric soul who made all of his friends FIGHT TO THE DEATH

What was he saying? Haha! Gosh, he's just like, ridiculous.

...Who was he even talking to? Scott should probably start praying for his mental health if it hadn't dissolved away by now.

He really regretted taking Them up on Their offer. All he'd done was turn himself into a freak who ruined his friends' lives. Xelqua save his soul. Scott really misses his old body and not the one with freakishly long antennae and wings that crawled all over his body like a pest. 

But what could he do? Honestly, he was told he was helping everyone. Scott realises that it wasn't in the way he exactly wanted, but he was still helping somehow and that was all that mattered. He thinks. Is he helping? Hopefully.

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

"So if I accept your offer you're just gonna pop me in some random place ten miles away from civilisation?" Scott inquires suspiciously. Like, maybe accepting an offer from someone notorious for wreaking havoc among his citizens wasn't the best play he's done, but it was for the greater good, right?

"No. I should have specified more. Mr. Major, we will be putting you back into the revival machines that brought you back from death three times over before. We've never tried putting a live subject in the chambers before and are only curious what advancements will occur on a Reborn's body. We are offering you a deal which will get you and all the other scum you protect so dearly all the food and shelter they need. The new place of living for you is only in case of an emergency." The governor says with a plastic smile. "Must I remind you of all the benefits you and your friends will receive?"

Scott shakes his head, "I get it, please don't repeat yourself." he clears his throat awkwardly at the sharp look he gets from the taller man, "I mean, if it's for all the other Reborns, then, of course, I'll go through with your deal. But if you even touch Pearl or the others, I cease this deal immediately."

The governor grins, "Of course Major. We will protect them under the Law of the Mycelium Order, sanctified by Xelqua himself." he slides a paper to Scott, "Sign here and all will be done."

He signed.

Watchers, why did he sign?

A month later, he found himself in a large mansion, beautiful and exactly his kind of building. Scott was of course ecstatic at first, but slowly it developed into a kind of twisted game. The scraping of his own shoes on the marble flooring was too loud and his vision was too sharp. It made him want to vomit.

Don't even start on his reflection. For one, what the hell happened to his eyes? Why did he have these overly bright stars blocking half of his vision?! Why were his once delicate wings now too large and dragging along the floor behind him?!Did his arms always fade into a sticky black goop, each of his fingers tipped into claws?

All of these new features weren't really a problem at all until his clothes were almost shredded apart and moving too fast hurt Scott's head phenomenally.

Also, it was quiet, too quiet. Too isolated.

No one was there for Scott to talk or even complain to. It was just him. And it was like that for weeks.

Maybe he shouldn't have finally gone out after four months. Shouldn't have walked the 10+ miles back to familiar streets.

When people saw him, they didn't smile or congratulate him on winning the most bloody game in his life. Nope! Wanna know what they did? They screamed and ran and threw sharp objects at Scott. On the news, he was called an abomination, more so than he usually does.

When Scott finally decided to raise a hand to the people, cut some girl's neck and watch the blood pour all over his denim jacket, he'd just only realised how much of a weapon he became.

The once annoying stars became dangerous, conforming to his beck and call, his wings dishing out enough force to leave a mark just by whacking someone in the face. His clawed hands became perfect for tearing at flesh and filled him with that perfect, perfect, bloodlust.

One terrifying similar to being a Red LIFE.

The games didn't stop. Why would they when the Government had found the perfect way to make something that was once declared a horror to society into a gun; locked, loaded and ready to shoot in an instant?

Scott was still dragged back to the next game, painted over to be the person he once was. It was refreshing. He longs to be the Scott people loved.

Pearl won. Of course, she was made into something similar to him. The media eventually caught on, calling the duo a danger and giving them these weird codenames that Pearl and Scott both agreed were stupid.

The Government hired their friends against the two. Bdubs, Lizzie, Joel, Ren, Tango, and even his ex-boyfriend Jimmy had all been roped in. They were named the "Heroes", and then were proceeded to be paid a copious amount of money to keep them around.

The Heroes barely cared what the duo, eventually trio did. They only wanted to be paid and go home. It was completely fair, just something Scott wouldn't ever consider doing.

Somewhere in that time, two Reborns named Gemini and HotGuy appeared, to fight crime and wrangled the now-dubbed Corrupteds in.

The pair did quite the job, a lot more than the so-called Heroes did. They were a nuisance, to put it better. Other than that though, they were just annoying. Until Secret LIFE and Scar won anyway.

Pearl threw a hissy fit about falling off the cliff and dying to Scar for days and waited even longer for Scar to come around to join their group.

He never did.

The trio found out through Martyn's connections that Scar had simply ditched the three of them for "compliance issues". The Government had already built his area and clearly weren't happy about him fucking off and doing his own thing.

The man's face was plastered on wanted posters for weeks.

Then Joel won, and the scheme collapsed further as one of the Heroes was forcefully pried away from work.

Joel was truly a delight, relishing in the permanent Red High and willing to kill as soon as the order was given. Scott pretended to not notice the winces of pain Joel gave when he tried to do something more than a light jog, and ignored when the arachnid started leaving near midnight once a week.

Eventually, Scott found out Joel was leaving to visit his past soulmate, Etho.

Etho was a rattlesnake Reborn, friends with Cleo, and also a neutral kind of guy, so Scott couldn't be bothered to be too mad.

Not for now, anyway. With the way things were going, the neutral crew seemed to be Cleo, Etho, Skizz, and some other people Scott couldn't be bothered to name hanging out in the corner of the country, hiding away from conflict. Boring, but they weren't getting in the way of his and his friends' plan.

Hell, screw the plans! Scott was just glad to be able to see someone again, even if their faces would be twisted with ichor and dripping with blood, sweat, and tears. They were still all Scott could get, so who was he to complain when he finally got what he wanted?

Well, maybe he just didn't want the rest of his friends' futures melted, ground, and crushed into what Scott could only call a slimy mess.

Chapter Text

"Guys, guys! The Government released a new April Fools game to compete in! The session is right now!" Marytn cheers, running into the living room with his phone. Joel bursts out laughing when he trips over the weirdly placed couch.

Pearl immediately rises from the couch and powers on the TV. She looks pretty indifferent, but her tail is wagging like a tornado. Joel sits up and puffs out his chest, "I'm gonna win this one, of course."

Scott shrugs, grabbing an Xbox controller for Pearl before standing up and getting himself a laptop. "Maybe. You don't really, like, need the cash prize, Joel."

"Shut it!" snarks Joel. Joel wouldn't consider himself a tryhard or anything, but he always wanted to hog the singular PC in the mansion to play in these mini-events; so, he did. Not like he cared for anyone else's feelings, especially over a game.

Joel half-scurries half-limps over to the PC, giddily turning it on. Behind him, Martyn sits on the rug in front of the TV and simply uses his phone to log on.

Once, the Government personally coded up an event for a popular online game and invited all LIFE competitors to play for a cash prize over a live stream. The winner of the event, Cleo, topped up on 10k all to themselves. The intention of these streams was pretty clear, to convince the people out there with half a brain that the members of LIFE were actually consenting to being thrown through the wringer over, and over again... After all, who likes a bunch of petty people protesting for Reborn's rights? Well, Joel would quite enjoy that but a little too late for that.

People thought it was a one-off situation after all, this was the Government's first time trying something like this! Many members of LIFE refused to even show up -- which was fine, but Etho never showed up, and while no one really cared last time, people were rooting for him to win this time around! Some sort of soulmate theory or something.

Playing this random online game with all of his peers was the only time they weren't genuinely out for each other's blooming spinal cords, leading Joel to have way more fun than he'd admit.

The first time all the Reborns were dragged into playing this game, it was filled with banter from actual conflict in real life. For example, Pearl and Gem spent the whole time bickering and hating on each other for no reason; the same occurred with Martyn and Tango.

Once the rest of the Corrupted crew got their stuff sorted out, they all decided to log onto the server at the exact same time. Joel logged on early because he was just cool like that.

Looking around in-game, most of the usual competitors were here, of course including Pearl, Scott, Martyn, and himself, but for once, Bdubs and Tango hopped in to join. Almost instantly, Joel and Bdubs find out that wandering traders can trade for dirt. The two start digging it up immediately.

It was quite chill to have Bdubs not screeching into Joel's ear for doing something wrong like when Joel was still a part of their crew, but he also wasn't babying Joel like he usually does now. It was a more normal version of Bdubs, who was willing to hang out and play games which was nice.

With all of their dirt, the duo decided to thoroughly abuse the hell out of the wandering trader which attracted a lot of the other people to their hole in the ground. A competitor that no one has ever seen outside of the game, BigB, finds out a way to use the void below the three layers of dirt to kill people, so he does.

Bdubs wanders off with his horse to who knows where, so Joel nabs some sugarcane and uses his leftover dirt to hide it in the newly built dirt fortress. Unfortunately, somewhere between building his amazing creation, Bdubs eliminates himself by falling into the void. He was so short-lived that Bdubs' livestream was instantly cut off and honestly, no one expected it to come back.

Shortly after, Ren takes an L and dies to Scar, somehow. But after his death, not a lot happens. Well, until he hears someone gasp loudly behind Joel. Turns out it was Martyn and he instantly starts making excuses for Scar eliminating him in the game. Pearl laughs and mocks him while Scott mutters a condolence. Joel, however, was too focused on keeping his team around(which was only himself) to care.

Eventually, Scott came around to cure Joel of his loneliness and teamed up with him. The two spend the next few player deaths having a lot of fun together, fun including Joel turning on him when Scott was the last green name of course.

All good things must come to an end because somehow, like a complete idiot, he walks his character right off of a ledge while trying to kill Scott. He groans and whines but Joel knows it's just a game in the end.

Scott's the last Corrupted alive at this point, due to the apparently "not having the right equipment to play" Martyn says, which only rubs salt into the wound of Joel dying in the dumbest way possible.

It's whatever, it didn't really matter, all that mattered was that Scott was still thriving and hey, maybe the crew could even earn themselves the 10 grand.

Joel was secretly hoping Scott would kill himself three times in some stupid way because Joel's ego and dignity would definitely shrivel up and die if Scott won again.

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

"Scar! New April Fools LIFE thingy is out, we gotta play!" 

Scar looks up from his position at the dining table next to Grian to see Gem flailing around holding her laptop. Naturally, he loved participating in every civil event ever, because no one was killing each other and were legally obliged to be normal and not try to rip out someone's organs. However, things like this always felt like it was crossing the line, especially the last one where Reborns, including Corrupteds, participated in a LIFE game but VR. Every in-game punch sent bad tingles down his spine, reminding him of the Red bloodlust Scar had to go through every year.

Gem said this version of the April Fools games was particularly normal, everyone would just do LIFE but on a popular video game all the members of LIFE play. Scar didn't really have a problem with that so of course he had to participate.

It was fun, really fun. He outlived Gem and was second overall; but Scar was currently on his last life, due to being killed by The Tiger-  Scott earlier. Grian and Gem was looming over Scar's shoulder, watching as Scar freaked out and desperately tried to avoid the zombies that were trying to kill him.

Something unexpected happens, though.

"I wanna try playing! Ehm, if you don't mind, I wanna play." Grian says excitedly.

Normally, Scar would say no and play himself, but the puppy eyes and the way Grian's voice went up half an octave was almost irresistible. "Oh... Yeah sure, here you go. Do you know how to play?"

Grian nods, "Yeah, played a few times before believe it or not. My one brain cell goes perfectly to use in this game."

"Huh? Scar, is that even allowed?!" Gem asks with a teasing tone to his voice. Scar and Grian both shrug at the same time.

Grian takes Scar's phone and now it's Scar's turn to uncomfortably peer over Grian's wrists to see the screen, "Er, oh! There's voice chat right?" before anyone can stop him, Grian clears his throat and leans in to speak closer to the microphone, "Hi Tiger Moth boy! I think that's who you are, can't tell by the user 'Smajor' but it is what it is!"

Gem gasps and Scar reaches out to take the phone back but stops himself. He technically already knew Grian was, and he'd already spoken so there wasn't really any stopping Grian now.

"Oh? What happened to Scar? Too scared to fight me?" Scott's voice pipes up as his avatar turns towards Grian's.

"Nah," Grian shakes his head as if the moth could actually see him, "just wanted to play."

A scoffing sound is heard from the phone, "Is that even allowed? Never mind, when it comes to Scar, rules are basically scribbles from a kindergartener."

Gem opens her mouth but Scar loudly shushes her.

Grian starts walking away but Scott, on his Red LIFE, charges toward Grian's, technically Scar's, avatar. Like a natural, Grian taps on the golden apple and eats it but still jumps a little in real life, "No!"

"He's got basically all the tools you don't, including arrows." Scar mentions as Grian runs away to the messy towers and cables of dirt that were built near the centrer of the flat world.

Grian groans, "Ugh, let's just- let's just get this over with then... Come on Smajor! Get this over with?" his fingers rapidly tap at the screen as he dodges and weaves through mobs like he's played this game a dozen times over, "I'd like to die to at least a player?"

Grian jumps around for a while before Scott dives for Grian with a digital sword, "Ack! I didn't mean it!" Grian yelps as he eats another golden apple.

"You sure?" Scott laughs out. You can hear three other distinct voices cheering him on in the background, one clearly less enthusiastic than the others.

Scott and Grian initiate in PVP. Grian lands a few good crits that has Gem 'ooh'ing and 'ahh'ing but still, his health situation isn't looking good. "There's a lot of mobs out." Scott mentions off-handedly as he fights Grian.

"One heart, one heart!" Scar calls out. Grian tries to jump away as spiders dig away at the rest of his HP.

"Not like this!" Grian shrieks as the respawn screen pops up. "No!"

Grian groans as Scar's avatar respawns at a bed. "Gosh, sorry Scar. You could have probably done it better than me," he says as Grian hands the phone back to Scar.

"It's fine," Scar laughs, "I couldn't beat Scott in a fight even if I tried, my friend, so it's completely fine."

"You did pretty good!" Gem says with a smile, "Do you have the game on your phone? We can play together sometime?"

Grian smiles back, letting his hands touch Scar's for a few seconds too long before pulling away, shooting Scar an apologetic glance that makes his heartrate skyrocket more than the thought of fighting Scott in a digital game, "Of course we can play together, Gem!"

Chapter Text

"Ugh.."

"Gem?" Grian asks, walking in from the front door. He had just returned from laundry duty, holding three plastic bags full of Gem, Scar, and his clothes. To be fair, he could have used his powers and pretended to carry all the clothes around, and he did try; unfortunately, some dude with brown hair and a black shirt with a yellow 'i' printed on it came around the corner and saw Grian spinning a sweatshirt around in the air. Concerningly, the guy didn't scream; he just squinted at the pairs of wings sprouting from Grian's back, nodded, and slowly walked backwards up the stairs.

Right, back to Gem. Gem was collapsed on the couch with her head in her hands. Her phone was sitting beside her, the iMessenger app open, " Griiaaan ... I think Opal ghosted me." Gem groans dissapointedly.

"Dude... That's -- that's not very Gemini-Slay of her, is it?" Grian tries, snorting at his own joke. Gem gives Grian a pointed look before cracking a smile and laughing too.

"No, no. That's not anywhere near Gemini-Slay," she sighs. Gem reaches beside her for her phone and hands it to Grian, "Look at this, she's been leaving me on read for four days, Grian! I get that someone can be really busy, but c'mon now. I've even seen the typing bubble pop up, but she never actually types anything."

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

Opal M.

gemmy

hey! i really enjoyed our time together, wnna go out again later?

Opal M.

Maybe, but someone kinda mad @ me rn lol

gemmy

oh its ok just tell me when ur good

gemmy

opal

opal

opallll

can i tell u smth

gemmy

hi

gemmy

hey ru okay?

gemmy

did i do something i'm sorry

Read 8:32.

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

Grian scoffs, "I knew she was weird!" he exclaims... Wait- "Er, wait. She kinda juuust replied."

"What?! Give me the phone." Gem shrieks, snatching the phone from Grian's grasp and cradling it like a precious treasure. Gem's initially annoyed expression melts into something of confusion. "She says she's just 'really busy'."

"I don't have too many brain cells to figure this out, but last I checked, people who love you don't particularly act like that." Grian points out dubiously. Gem nods agreeingly.

Gem sighs, "She reminds me weirdly of Lone Wolf, like scarily similar. They don't have the same accent, though, so I guess I'm just being paranoid."

She's not being paranoid at all.

Grian ignores the voice in his head, instead opting to check the time. "Oh, ehm, Gem. You should go, you'll be late for work."

"Scar hasn't even woken up yet! I can't go." Gem complains, clearly trying to avoid going to work.

Grian laughs, "It's a Monday. He doesn't wake up early on Mondays! I've barely known him for a few months, and I even know that!" Grian teases, "I'll make him food if that's what you're worried about."

"Nuh-uh. Nope, you're gonna burn this place to the ground." Gem shakes her head frantically.

A groggy voice is heard from Scar's room, "Did someone say burning?" Scar asks with a lopsided smile, his black wings pressed uncomfortably against the doorframe. Jellie trails behind Scar slowly.

Grian and Gem laugh at Scar's comment, only for Scar to return to his room, come back with a lighter in his hand, close the door behind him, and flick the flint on the lighter a few times, trying to get a fire to start.

"SCAR, NO!" Grian shrieks, bouncing up from behind the couch to try to grab the lighter from Scar's hands. Scar held it just above Grian's head, which was annoying because if Grian attempted to fly the singular inch to the lighter, he'd probably overshoot and hit the ceiling — darn nimble wings.

Grian stands on his tip-toes, reaching up for the tacky lighter before tripping over his own feet and landing directly on Scar. Time seems to slow as Grian presses Scar to the door, barely catching himself on the wood. Scar's face flushes as he starts laughing awkwardly, but curiously makes no move to push Grian off. A clatter is heard behind Grian, presumably the lighter. He doesn't care, though, not at the moment. All he could think about was Scar's emerald-green eyes and the fact that he was warm, warm like a cup of tea on a snowy day.

The two were so close that Grian could hear Scar's heartbeat, frantic and erratic, almost matching his own completely.

One of Scar's hands drifts its way to the nape of Grian's neck as the former slowly leans forward, stopping next to Grian's ear. Scar inhales as if to say something, his breath hot on Grian's neck, " Gri- "

Gem coughs violently into her hand once or twice before loudly whispering, "I'd ship it..."

Grian couldn't hold back the revolting gasp that escaped his throat. "Nope! Nuh uh. That was an accident, that was an accident, and you know it." he pushes himself off of Scar, picking up the lighter off the floor and pointing it at Gem. Grian pretends not to notice the slightly disappointed expression on Scar's face.

"Sure... Boy, I gotta tell Etho about this! Give me a second." Gem squeals excitedly. She quickly grabs her phone and starts typing something out with a massive grin on her face, only for it to melt off and send Gem into a scrambling mess. "It's eight-fourty-five! My life is over, sorry boys, have fun, bye!" She grabs a bag, combs her hair into some sort of order, and runs out the front door, almost running into it.

"Wait- I- Augh!"

Grian huffs and stomps around the front door for a while before realising that Scar was still standing there, staring at him. So Grian does the proper thing he was always taught to ask his subjects .

Not his subjects.

Right, he's a new person now who says he has to listen to the voices in his head... Which was technically himself.

"You hungry? You just woke up, and I'm a normal person, so I assume you're hungry."

Scar's damp expression cheers up in a split second. He claps his hands together, "Breakfast, yes, I'd love breakfast!... Ehm, I can cook for myself, though. Just thought you should know that."

"That's great!" Grian chrips, propping his hands onto his hips, "Last time I tried to cook I started an oil fire, so..."

Scar winces, "Yep, no cooking for you. Gem would slaughter me if a bit of fire touched wood."

The raven turns around and starts rummaging in the barren fridge and cabinet. After a heap of dust blowing into Scar's face, a fit of coughing, and quiet swearing, he finally presents Grian with three ingredients: Flour, eggs, and milk, "When I was younger, I'd live off of these pancakes. They might not be the best, and I'm kind-of-pretty-sure that the milk is about two days expired, but I had a cup yesterday and it wasn't too bad... So, yeah."

"Pancakes? Dude! That sounds amazing!" Grian cheers, "Considering I've been drinking coffee for breakfast every morning, I'd much prefer this. I'd much prefer this over coffee."

"...I can, like, teach you if ya want?" Scar offers with a sheepish smile. He outstretches his hand like Grian was about to be whisked away into a 5-star cooking class.

Grian shakes Scar's hand, "Yes, please."

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

"Okay, so, first you just get a bowl. Any bowl should be fine... Like this one?" Scar grabs some random metal bowl from god-knows-where and places it on the table with a loud Clang!  "Then you put the eggs in. You technically don't need to start with eggs, but I like eggs."

Scar smoothly takes two eggs and cracks them on the side of the bowl, perfectly separating the egg insides from the shell.

"...Where did you get that bowl?"

"Oh, I dunno, was just on a shelf. Anyways, next is milk." Scar reaches for the jug of milk, but Grian stops him with his hand.

"Woah, woah, woah. What do you think you're doing?! Didn't you just say that the milk is expired? I unfortunately don't fancy salmonella," he says dubiously, carefully taking the jug from Scar's hands as if even touching it would get him sick.

Scar shrugs, "Take a sip if you want, it's fine for me."

Grian indeed takes a sip, swishing it around in his mouth before swallowing. The milk was fine; maybe a bit sour, but still usable. Still, Grian proceeds cautiously as he pours the liquid into the bowl with the eggs.

"Okay, okay, okayokayokay - You can stop now. Grian!" Scar squeaks out as the eggs sitting in the bowl completely drown in milk, "...We only needed one cup."

"How many cups was that exactly, then? Seemed like one cup to me."

He squints at the bowl. "Maybe like one-"

"You see?" Grian interrupts, "Still in the ones, so it's perfect in my terms."

Next was the flour, which also needed to be portioned into one cup.

After Scar freaked out about the apparently one-and-a-half cup of milk, Grian wanted to ensure he didn't overdo the flour. He scours the apartment for some sort of measuring spoon but comes out empty-handed. 

Scar insisted on simply using a small shot glass for measuring, mentioning that five shot glasses bordered the number of ounces in a cup. Grian would argue, but he didn't know much about cooking or baking at all, so Grian had to just trust the taller.

Grian lets Scar do the honours, watching as Scar puts the shot glass into the sea of flour, coming back up with a topped-up glass of flour.

Scar abruptly decides to blow flour into Grian's face, making Grian stumble back and sneeze, "Hey! What was that for?!"

"Why? Can't you just let a man have some fun?"

A smile breaks across Grian's face as he snatches the bag of flour, reaching a hand into the bag, "I'll show you fun, alright." he grabs a fistful of the grain, balling it up in his hand and throwing it directly at Scar.

Scar sputters but quickly retaliates by taking the shot glass full of flour and smothering it into Grian's hair.

That's it; Scar had officially declared war against Grian. Grian, with all the ammo in his reach, takes two scoops of flour and swings his arm as hard as his form could exude at the moment. The raven had blocked the flour, smirking as the powder fell to the ground.

The two threw flour at each other for a few more minutes, the white powder catching on everything -- the floor, countertops, sinks, and even the ceiling, somehow.

After a bit of struggle, Scar pins Grian down to the countertop, laughing as he dusts flour onto Grian's face, calling it 'fairy dust' and giggling at Grian's groans.

"Fine... You win." Grian pouts, turning his head away from Scar before slipping on flour and barely catching himself on the countertops. "Oof- Wow, that's a lot of-"

"Oh my gosh. It's on the ceiling," Scar grabs Grian by his shoulders and shakes him, "We got the flour on the ceiling . Gem is going to kill. us."

Grian looks around before spotting the abandoned metal bowl sitting on the table, "There's enough left for seven shot glasses of flour, right?" he doesn't wait for Scar to respond, "She can be mad at us all she wants, but she won't have one thing."

"Which is?"

He grins, "Pancakes."

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

It takes a handful of minutes for him and Scar to finish the batter. Scar, midway through, had decided to toss in a bit of sugar, but unfortunately mixed up the sugar jar with salt. Then, Grian lets Scar pour the batter onto a frying pan and proceeds to scream about the batter bubbling off the metal and splashing on Grian's hand. Scar apologised a dozen times, and Grian had to reaffirm a dozen more times that it was fine.

Finally, the pancakes were doused with various fruits and finished. There were about fourteen pancakes, which were too much for two people. Grian and Scar agreed to eat four pancakes each and store the rest away for Gem.

"Taste test!" Scar cheered, "Tell me how you like them, G."

Grian nods and cuts a slice from his stack of pancakes, taking a bite.

"It's... Kind of rubbery."

Scar looks down sadly, "Oh."

"But... It's so good! Gosh, it's not too sweet, but perfectly delicious. That salt did a number on these- In a good way."

"Oh, really!?" Scar asks, eyes glowing. "I'm glad you like them because I like them lots."

The two finish their meal, and while Grian carries his plate of pancakes to the sink, he takes the time to look around the kitchen, "Erm... Do we have to clean this up?"

Scar stands behind him, making "ooh" and "eek" noises that couldn't mean anything good. He doesn't even respond; he only goes into his room, brings out a Swiffer and some wipes, and wordlessly starts cleaning.

Chapter Text

Grian sighed, lying on the couch with a dramatic flop. "I'm bored. Is there anything better to do than rot away?"

An array of feathers smacked Grian in the face as Scar sat on the couch's armrests. He shrugs. "We could always try sneaking into a theme park. They never really had good security last time I checked. Which was twenty years ago at this point, so like, who knows."

The wasp bats Scar's wings away from his view, reaches for his back pocket, and grabs his phone, tapping on Google Maps, "Erm- oh, wow. There are a lot of amusement parks around here. Hm... How about Disney?"

Scar makes a face of disbelief, staring at Grian like he'd sprouted a plant on the top of his head. "You're actually down to sneak into a- Never mind. I got banned from Disney; the staff were trained to turn me away or something."

"For goodness' sake. Banned from a park?! How... What did you do?"

He laughs, "Let's not talk about that. Oh, how about Six Flags? They should be open today."

"Ehm..." Grian mumbled, typing into the search bar, "Six Flags... Oh! Yeah, they're open. You're not banned from this one too, are you?" he teases.

Scar shakes his head. "Nope. I've actually never gone. I've heard that place has got pretty cool rides though."

Grian wrinkles his eyebrows, "What kind of rides are we talking about exactly?"

"Ooh, like heartline rolls and loopty loops... Massive drops and-" Scar cuts himself off and squints at Grian, "Why do you ask? Are you scared? Awh, that's cute."

Grian gasps dramatically, pretending he doesn't get a little queasy on rollercoasters despite being able to fly, "Not scared! I'm not scared! Just mildly intimidated."

"I see." Scar gives a faux look of giving Grian's comment any thought before popping up from the couch and turning towards his bedroom. "Welp, because you have to take accessories off when going on rides, I'll get you something of mine, and you can wear it to cover your wings and stuff. Considering your height, I'm sure it'll be no problem," he giggles.

" I-I'm about one hundred and seventy-two centimetres!" Grian calls after Scar.

Scar blinks owlishly at Grian with a silly smile on his face, "And I'm... Ehm." he then stops for a second, eyes staring into the distance while mumbling to himself, "I'm one hundred- one hundred and... Screw it; I'm six feet one and three-fourths... Awh, there goes my cool reply. I'll be right back, Grian."

He disappears into his bedroom and shortly comes back with a change into a large jacket and a white shirt in his hands that features a melty smiley face print in orange fading to blue, "Thrifted this thing. I don't think I ever wore it once, so it's clean if you ignore the dusties."

Grian nods gratefully, "Thanks."

He takes the shirt into his hands and checks the tag, almost choking in surprise. Now, Grian isn't too sure how the sizing system works on this planet, for that was one of the things he didn't control. Grian does, in fact, know that usually he ranges from a fitted extra small to a perfectly comfy small. This shirt had a lovely, bold 'L' on the tag, which a hundred-thousand percent meant that this shirt was a large and would make him look like a dwarf compared to Scar. "I- Ack! I'm gonna look stupid in this."

"I mean, I can try to find something else if you don't want that..." spluttered Scar. Grian only shook his head, laying the shirt down on the arm of the couch and starting to pry his much more reasonably sized jumper over his head and off his body.

Grian must have either gotten too comfortable or been bloody hit in the head because by the time the jumper was halfway off his body and his wings were free from the fluffy compression of the fabric, Scar's face was flushed a soft pink as he pressed his lips into a straight line.

"...Grian?" Scar breathed, blinking rapidly.

Instantly, Grian tugs his arms down, brushing away any loose squiggle of cotton from the jumper to distract himself. "Oh, oh! Oh my god. Oh my god. I am so sorry, Scar. You- wow, you did not need to see that."

Scar responds by laughing awkwardly and wrapping his large wings around himself, blocking Grian's view of his face. "What? You silly goose, nothing happened at all! Go about your business. Ha... Ha..." he quickly clears his throat before adding, "You did look pretty, though."

"Oh. Thanks." Grian croaks out, heart pounding in his chest. Though Grian knows that Scar can't see him, he still swivels around, almost self-consciously, as he quickly tugs his red jumper off and replaces it with the smiley face shirt. Just as a precaution, Grian hides his stinger away, making up the shitty excuse of bending the thing up against his back; it's not like Scar would realise, right? Surprisingly or unsurprisingly, he doesn't have to hide his wings due to the shirt reaching about mid-thigh length, and only needs to tuck in the ends of the thin membrane into his thick sweatpants. Bless waistbands.

Grian takes a breath and turns around. "You can stop covering your eyes now."

Scar lowers one of his wings, then slowly does the same with the other. His eyes light up at the sight of Grian, who probably looks horrific right now. "Awwee! That's adorable! You look adorable."

"I... Don't know about that." Grian mumbles, spinning around, he hears Scar make a noise of confusion, and almost immediately looks up to see Scar's weird expression.

"Dude, where'd your stinger go? I get the wings but..."

This is why planning ahead was so important. "This piece of fabric is so large, it kind of covers everything up, with the exception of me having to wedge it up to my back. A little uncomfortable, but it's like carrying one of those stiff neck-pillow-rests things with you everywhere."

You wouldn't have to plan ahead if you had killed him already.

...

Scar slowly nods in a faltering approval, "Ah, very innovative."

"Well!" Grian says, switching the topic as fast as physically, mentally, and spiritually possible. "Let's get out of here, then?"

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

It took a gas stop and about an hour to get to Six Flags. Grian had almost regretted agreeing to go when he'd seen the strangely cheap prices for tickets, and felt even more revolted at the drops and loops that were peeking over the fencing.

Scar surprisingly had a good sum of money on him today, almost like he was saving up for years just to get a chance at going to a park with somebody again.

Ah, that was precisely it, wasn't it?

It's alright, Grian would do anything to see that genuine, sunshine-filled smile last more than a few seconds a week. If watching Scar spend his probably only life savings on an amusement park, then let that be so.

"Okay! Here are the ticket, enjoy your day!" The ticket seller said with a fake grin plastered on her face. Scar grabs the paper bracelets and Grian's wrist, dragging him to the metal detectors and slipping through the metal detectors and security, somehow charming his way out of a Reborn check.

When they stepped into the park, Grian was surprised to see that the interior wasn't anything like the few amusement parks he had designed over the years -- not really any sightseeing places or restaurants, just rides galore.

"So, Mr. 'I'm Not Scared', which rides do you wanna go on first?" Scar teases, nudging Grian with his shoulder.

Grian shoves back almost instantly, "I'm not that scared!... Okay, maybe just get it over with, what's the most horrifying ride in this place?"

An evil grin appears on Scar's face as he takes out a map from his pocket, looks at it for a maximum of three seconds, and signals for Grian to follow him. Grian speedwalks after Scar as the taller giddily strides across the paths, his shoes basically gliding off the concrete ground.

Eventually, Scar stops and points to a sign to their left.

X2

"Huh, well it's not like 'Get Eaten By Velociraptors' like most rides usually are called, so it can't be-" 

Grian looks up at the bright red tracks weaving through the sky. Almost instantly, he takes back what he'd said previously.

"Wh- Huh?! Excuse me?" he squeaks out. "That's not a roller coaster. That's not a roller coaster, that's a torture machine."

"Well..." Scar says, putting a hand on Grian's shoulder and slowly pulling him away from the line that was starting to pile up at the ride. "We don't need to go if you don't wanna but-"

The wasp shakes his head, "Nuh uh! We're here already, so I'm gonna prove to you this thing isn't scary at all, not even a little bit." 

He practically invented these kinds of things; not on his own, of course, but without Grian, energy wouldn't be the same, and it wouldn't even be possible to have something like this! Of course he could do a silly ride! It's not gonna be that bad. Grian thinks to himself while watching a group of teenagers being shot backwards down a drop. Not that bad.

Scared of a ride? What kind of Watcher are you? No wonder They didn't want you.

...

Well, now Grian has to go. He tugs on Scar's arm. "C'mon, let us go before the line gets too long."

Scar yelps out, "Oh, really? Okay!" before letting himself be pulled along by Grian to the end of the line.

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

It took forty minutes to board the ride, due to the sheer number of people waiting. Soon enough, Grian and Scar were strapped to blue and black seats, which were wiggling around everywhere, even though the two were only a foot or two off the ground at the moment.

From the corner of his eye, Grian sees Scar shift around uncomfortably due to sitting on his wings. For the realistic effect, Grian tries to copy his movements and earns himself an empathetic look from Scar.

Scar was mid-sentence, talking about his experience of being banned from Disney, when the seats tilted back and the ride started pulling out of the little building they were in. Scar immediately shuts up and grins at Grian.

Grian flinches at the sudden movement, but right now it wasn't too bad; he was just being blinded by the sun. It wasn't too bad for a solid ten seconds before a loud cranking noise started from under the seats, and they tilted at a ninety-degree angle.

Now, Grian was no expert on roller coasters, but that definitely meant that drop was coming up. He idly starts a conversation with Scar while people let out little cheers behind him.

"So, how did you get into this park in the first place? Won't they know you're Scar and take you away and stuff?" He asks a little nervously.

Scar shrugs, "The security kind of sucks around here. Just put my name down as Jeffery and they let me pass."

"Interesting. Oh. The cart's slowing down further. Is it a good time to tell you about my motion sickness? It's not too bad most of the time, but- but- Oh goodness, we're high up right now. Erm... Oh god, we're basically flipped over at this point, aren't we?... Huh, I did think this would be more intense actUAAAAAGH-"

The scream that rips from Grian's throat may be the most embarrassing thing he's heard in his life. Scar's sitting beside him, giggling like a maniac as the cart plummets down, down, down.

The car catches on a higher track, and Grian expects the car to rebound back, but Grian's always wrong at this point in his long life, so of course the cart speeds up and does a loop, flipping the whole thing upside down, then onto its side. The G-forces weren't anything new for Grian; it was just frightening when you couldn't really control them.

A few more loops and a good dose of fire next to his face later, and the ride finally comes to a stop.

Scar, who Grian assumed would be absolutely fine, seemed a little shaken, but still way more intact than he was.

Grian leaps out of the car as soon as the ride comes to a full stop. "Blegh. Bleh, bleh. I'm gonna vomit everywhere." Grian whines as they find some place to stand around in the park.

Scar nods with a bright smile on his face, "Yeah, maybe. But it was really fun, though! Like, all the wooshiness was really exciting! Don't you agree?"

A few billion years ago, Grian would have definitely been beeline-ing for the closest trashcan, but right now? He actually found the rollercoaster mildly fun. "Yeah. Yeah, it was fun..." Grian agrees, greedily snatches the map from Scar. "I'm choosing the next ride, though!"

"Oh, okay! So, which one? We could do another roller coaster."

"Nope. No, no, no, no. We're doing the Drop of Doom." Grian says, shushing Scar and pointing in the direction of the thriller ride.

Scar makes a face, "You actually like those things?"

Grian shrugs, "I dunno." He chose the ride because it reminded him of plummeting from the heavens a few months back, just without the pain of smacking the ground. Scar doesn't need to know that, though. "Reminds me of flying, so I probably won't screech your ears off."

"Huh. Guess that's kinda true. Your screeching is very entertaining though... Well then, Drop of Doom, here we come!"

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

They had finally exhausted all the fun rides before closing time. Every. Single. One.

Grian only had the urge to vomit about fifteen times, which was actually quite high considering the twenty-two rides Grian and Scar went on. At this point, Grian kind of wanted to go back to the apartment and flop on the couch.

Gem was still not back, which was strange, given that her shift had ended an hour ago. Scar had called Gem, and she said that she was grocery shopping. Scar, like the man he is, takes advantage of all the extra time the two now have due to Gem apparently being distracted by every intriguing item in the market she comes across.

Wanna know what Scar does? 

Scar drives Grian to a pub, or a 'bar' as he calls it, because he still has enough money for a few good drinks. Talk about saving up.

They pull up to the place and almost instantly realise something: Grian doesn't have an ID. So, Grian makes an idiotic plan like he usually does. Scar goes in first normally with his ID, and then Grian, when no one's waiting to go into the place, stings the bouncer, then tells him to let Grian in, in which the bouncer would be forced to comply because of his lovely venom.

Scar goes in first, disappearing into a small crowd of people and leaving Grian to wait at the front entrance.

It took so long for there to be no one out on the streets that Grian had almost given up, but finally, while the sun was starting to dip in the sky, the bouncer was all alone.

Grian knows that killing off the poor guy wouldn't do any good, but he was starting to get impatient, and murder was definitely a viable option right now.

He can't get Scar in trouble, though. So he doesn't snap the bouncer out of existence and instead brainwashes the guy into religiously following Xelqua. Then hands him a bible and watches the bouncer excitedly flip through the pages. While he was too busy reading a vomit of words that Grian had scribbled down on a piece of paper twenty-three billion years ago, Grian casually sneaks past him, not saying a word.

It works. It always works. And hey, Grian was a little lazy and didn't want to reach his stinger around and sting the guy, so what? Grian quietly walks into the place and immediately gets hit by the most horrendous music he's heard in his whole lifetime.

Cringing, Grian sits next to Scar, who's chosen a barstool next to some neon lights on the walls. Scar looks up from his phone and smiles, "You sure took a while there. Thought you died or something."

"Nope! I was only converting someone to a cultish religion. Wow, that sounds weird when I say it like that." Grian says back, a tone of humour in his voice. Scar laughs, but Grian was somehow telling the truth. Crazy how the world works.

Scar glances at a female bartender, playing around with a sticker he'd scraped off the table. She looks over and approaches Grian and Scar after a few minutes. "Hello there! Having a good evening? What can I get for you today?"

Scar answers instantly, almost like he had been waiting for this moment his whole life, "I'll have a Margarita, on the rocks, no salt." But then, he fumbles with the kind of tequila he wants; "Ehm. Just use any tequila, I guess? Sorry."

"No problem!... For you?" She waves at Grian, who was blankly staring at the shelf of alcohol on the wall.

"Oh. Er.." Grian freezes up, looking away for a second. Did this place even have any drinks that Grian knew of? Of course, alcohol wasn't a new thing, but he doesn't control what people do with it! Instead, he listens to people behind him, scouring for any drink name being said, "...Whiskey Sour."

"Alright! Would you like to start a tab?"

Scar shakes his head. The bartender nods, quickly makes the two drinks, and dishes them out before walking away to someone else.

The taller looks at his Margarita, holding up the glass like it were made out of gold. "Y'know, I'm not too sure what I ordered. Just wanted to say 'on the rocks'."

"Looks pretty good, though. Mine kind of looks like the free fruit water you get at a motel." Grian points out, swishing his whiskey around.

Now that Grian thinks about it, he could have just said 'beer' and gone along with his night. Gosh, he loves making things harder for himself. Still, he takes a sip of his 'Whiskey Sour' and the only word he could think of to describe it is unpleasant.

Scar describes his drink as 'tangy' and 'something he'd consider ordering again'. Grian just calls his whiskey 'bitterly annoying'.

Can gods get drunk? Who knows. Whatever the answer may be, Grian took about five tiny sips before calling it finished and giving it to Scar instead, who somehow downs the whole thing in two gulps, makes a really strange face of partial disgust and smugness, then starts chattering away about random stuff from his life.

"So y'know, when I was a -- ugh, that drink was gross -- When I was a kid, I was like, a super good swimmer. Like I was all over the news kind of swimmer. People never really expected some winged freak to beat the best dude in town, but I did. And for those few years, no one really questioned me being a Reborn; they just saw me as a guy who could freestyle real good." Scar started, sliding the empty glass back towards Grian.

Grian smiles slightly, "Oh, that's cool... You clearly don't swim anymore, though. So I'm assuming your competition tried to kill you?" he says jokingly. Scar raises his eyebrows in surprise.

"That is basically, exactly what happened." Scar says, intrigued, "I was going into the pool one day, and the dude that I mentioned before shoved me, and I hit my head on the ladder and somehow got a concussion."

"Wait- Did anything happen to the kid who pushed you?"

Scar shakes his head sadly, "Nope. No one cared at all."

Grian feels a surge of protectiveness rush through him. To think that someone could attempt to take Scar's life and get away with it was a wild, wild thought. "So let me get this straight, someone tried to kill you, and nothing happened?! Not even- Not even jail time?!"

The raven nods, but then abruptly stops and ruffles Grian's hair, "You don't need to worry, Grian. It's basically all in the past now! I barely remember the splintering pain from hitting a metal bar and almost drowning because I was left in the water for a few minutes!..." he says, full of humour, trying to lighten the mood but only proving Grian's point further.

"What? I- No?! Someone tried to kill you, Scar. And that's pretty shitty, especially because no one helped you, like at all. Just left you to rot." Grian protests, irritated, not at Scar, but more at the imbecile who could hurt this man and not feel bad about it. "You're a... Dear person to me, and I can't have you spilling your guts out all over the streets, do you hear me?!" he reaches over and shakes Scar by the shoulders, the commotion attracting the unwanted eyes of the people around them.

Scar doesn't respond, only chuckles dankly and sips his drink.

Grian argues to Scar about caring about himself more for a solid ten minutes, but Scar never says anything, only staying uncharacteristically quiet before finally putting an empty glass down and waving over a bartender, cutting Grian off.

"Hey! Ehm, can we get two shots? Lemon Drops. I'll pay in just a sec-" Scar turns back to Grian, "Sorry, buddy, don't really wanna talk about that right now. Shots are better for the soul than all that talk, y'know? Right-" Then proceeds to go right back to paying. Two dollars a shot was cheap; real cheap. Though this place seems like it's right across a university, so the cheap prices make sense for business purposes.

Grian then snaps out of his thoughts. Right, he had just stepped a line, "Ah, sorry then. Shutting up now." he mumbles, instead turning to watch the bartender mix up a drink, pour them into two shot glasses, and pass them to Scar and Grian.

Is Grian much of a drinker? No. Would he be down for a Lemon Drop? Of course!

He vividly remembers hanging out with the Watcher who was responsible for most cuisines for different cultures on various planets. Tasting one of these shots for the first time was quite the experience; no wonder it became an internet sensation, really.

Scar's eyes widen, "Oh, no, you don't need to shut up. I was just saying maybe change the topic to something like... Cats! I got Jellie a while ago, and she's the best girlie ever. Even better than Gem! She's kind of old now, though, which worries me."

Grian hums thoughtfully, digging through his memories for something genuine to bring up, "I used to have cats." God, no! Why would he say that?! He was pretending to be too broke for a cat, not to own one easily! "Er, kind of. It was a stray. Don't really remember what his name was, but he was a sweetie."

"Aw, that's adorable! He was probably really cute." Scar sings cheerfully. He then looks down at the two shots on the table. "Mmm.... Bottom's up!"

Scar holds up his glass, and Grian scrambles to grab his glass and clink it with Scar's. Then, he takes a short breath in and swishes the shot down. Grian barely tastes the sugary sweet flavour before Scar starts talking again, something about his family, or something.

Grian and Scar chattered about family issues for a while, and how Reborns weren't genetic and instead would appear from a genetic mutation. Apparently, Scar's family had only kept him around to mock him most of his childhood. Scar mentions that he doesn't really care about it much anymore, but last time Grian checked, someone can't just walk away with that amount of trauma and be fine with it.

That was the topic for maybe thirty-ish minutes; even worse, it was one of those conversations that were kind of hard to talk about. Grian made sure to pick and choose each of his words carefully, as to not to give anything away that could be compromising.

He wasn't exactly paying attention to whatever Scar was saying, though; he was only paying attention to the slight slur over Scar's words, merging syllables and nonsensical similes together. It would be kind of irritating to have to drive Scar back, mainly because Grian drove a car about seven times in the past billion years, and probably doesn't remember how to drive one properly.

Of course, Grian wouldn't be mad about driving Scar, though, never.

Somehow mid-conversation, Scar had managed to get his hands on another Lemon Drop shot, which Grian only realised after seeing him toying around with two glasses, "You down for another? I promise that was the last of my loose change. I won't get another," affirms Scar after seeing Grian's eyes narrow at the shot glasses.

"No thanks, gonna stay slightly sober for this one. They're all yours." Grian jokes, but then gasps at his very, very, fatal flaw just as he watches Scar shrug and take another shot down. These shots cannot be all Scar's, especially if Grian wants to avoid driving tonight. "Wait- Maybe don't... For Watchers' sake."

Grian pitifully watches as Scar gags and sputters, making Grian groan out of despair.

"That was a mistake." Scar mutters, stacking the glasses on top of each other.

"It is what it is," Grian says, exasperated.

Technically, it wasn't Scar's fault -- Grian had just told him to go ahead and take both, like an idiot. And one shot was never enough, wasn't it?...

You can get yourself out of this. Think.

Huh, you're right for once.

So, Grian does as commanded and thinks. How does one usually sober up? A crisp bottle of water, of course.

"Hey Scar, I'll be right back. Give me like five minutes." Grian says, standing up when Scar nods.

He weaves his way through a crowd of college students. It's Friday today, so there'll probably be a whole ocean of people in this tiny place in a hot minute. Grian speedwalks to the other side of the place, yelling over the music to get the bartender to look up.

"Can I get a glass of water? For my boy... buddy over there? He just downed like three drinks in forty minutes, and I don't want him dying on me!"

The bartender laughs at Grian's nonsensical slip-up. "Yes, sir, coming right... Give it a second... Up!" she says, handing Grian a plastic cup of water.

"Thanks!" Grian replies, walking towards Scar and sitting down just as another wave of people enters.

He shoves the water in Scar's direction. "Drink."

Scar eyes the water like he'd laced it with rat poison. "Maybe later. Not thirsty right now," he says with a silly smile on his pretty lips. If anyone asks why Grian was looking, it's because he was waiting for Scar to drink for his mandatory water break.

A few minutes tick by, neither of the two making a single sound. Scar stares at a fight breaking out behind Grian while Grian himself plays with the straw of the drink he'd gotten Scar, listening to the annoying squeaking sound produced by the plastic.

Grian wasn't really paying attention to Scar, is what he'd like to think if the sun wasn't currently setting, and if the rainbow lights weren't hitting Scar's face in the perfect way, and reflecting off of his emerald-green eyes, turning them into a kaleidoscope of colours. Akin to the light which filters through leaves, or the mirrored ripples of the sun during a solar eclipse.

"You should- You should drink your water," mumbles Grian, nudging the plastic cup towards Scar.

Scar jumps, as if spacing out, and nods blurrily, reaching to grab the cup and brushing fingers with Grian. He instantly freezes in his tracks and slowly looks up at Grian. Grian says a quick "sorry" and works to pull away, but suddenly, Scar reaches forward and grabs Grian's wrist.

"...Scar?" Grian asks breathlessly, trying to laugh, but nothing comes out other than a pathetic squeak. Scar wordlessly slides his hand into his own, giving Grian a sloppy grin before resting their hands on the sticky table.

"Okay, this is going to sound kind of stupid. Really idiotic, really... No- I- No, I don't really know. But-" Scar's words slur together, and he's talking noticeably louder than usual. He takes in a shaky gasp of air before continuing. "I think you're really cute, but not in the friend way in the..."

Scar suddenly cuts himself off, shaking his head and laughing at himself. "No, that's dumb, give me a second, I'll-"

Oh god.

The realisation hits Grian like a truck as Scar sputters and giggles over his own words. Time felt slower, warping and extending this moment like sticky-sweet molasses. Scar eventually catches his breath and looks at Grian again, a soft expression on his face.

"Ever since the day we met, I've always known there was something special about you. And, maybe I didn't realize it at first, but..." Scar trails off, before catching himself and forcing himself to continue, "You- You're- You've got a personality of gold. Every time I'm feeling down, you always make me feel better, and you're not afraid to help me when I basically throw myself off a cliff and start falling to my plummeting doom."

"You're hilarious, too, y'know? Like, you have this way of saying things that makes every part of me feel electric. If I could stay with you for the rest of the time, I would. I really would. Not to mention that you're one of the most beautiful people I've come across in my life. Your sense of fashion still shines, even though most of your clothes are Gem's..." he chuckles softly, "And, not to mention your eyes; Watchers, your sparkling eyes. I've never seen anything, or anyone like you, is what I think I want to say... And..."

Scar's hands start shaking, and in response, Grian grips Scar's hand tighter. "Go on...?" prompts Grian, a stupid expression most definitely on his face.

"I'm head over heels, Grian. I'm crazy for you. I- You could pull my heart out of my chest, and I'd be okay with it... What I mean is-"

He doesn't want him to say it, because Grian knows there'd be no going back as soon as he says it. He'd leave everything behind. Everything he worked for, and everything he vowed to do. But if he were so against it, it wouldn't explain his heartbeat spiralling out of control, and the way Grian could feel his face warming up when Scar finally says those three damn words.

"I love you, Grian."

If Grian were a computer, his motherboard would most definitely be fried by now. A starstruck expression popped onto his face, and the only thing he could think of doing at the moment was to offer Scar a crooked smile.

But then it hits him; he can't love Scar.

He physically can't.

Grian was a god, and Scar? He was a person, a person who had a whole life in front of him. Until Grian indirectly destroyed it.

He'd outlive him, too. Outlive him until the universe collapses onto itself. Outlive him until Scar was but a husk of a person and rotted away. He'd ruin Scar's whole life if he went along with his heart. 

"I-" Grian starts. Scar looks hopefully at Grian, out of breath from his confession.

No. Don't do this to him. God -- if he was still there and cared -- please don't do this to him.

"No. I can't-" Grian lets go of Scar's hand like it was on fire and lets out a humourless laugh. "I can't, Scar. I'm sorry."

Scar breaks, then and there. Grian could tell by the way he tensed up, a shocked expression on his face, before quickly covering it up with a cold stare. Any evidence of anything he'd said previously was gone; you could barely tell he'd had a few drinks tonight.

"Right. Right." Scar deadpans, "That was stupid of me, wasn't it? I'm clearly just drunk and stupid, I mean, who'd like me anyway?"

Grian winces, the noise of the bar suddenly flooding back into his ears, "No, I- It's not that, Scar, it's just-"

"I'm not good enough?" Scar laughs harshly, clapping his hands together. "I've heard that before. We're done here, Grian. Let's go now, shall we?" Scar calls over the bartender, gets a receipt, signs it sloppily, then stands up, stumbling slightly and starting for the exit without turning back.

Grian had thought it'd be easy, really. Shove his own feelings down and simply decline.

Turns out he'd forgotten the receiving side would feel it too.

He'd fix it, though. He'd fix it tomorrow because seeing Scar like this, and knowing it was all his fault, hurt. Right now? He had to ensure Scar wouldn't crash his car into a tree.

He takes a step after Scar before turning back, quickly grabbing the plastic cup of water before going after Scar. "I'll drive!"

Chapter Text

Grian was peacefully watching his coffee pump out of Scar's old coffee machine at seven thirty in the morning, stabbing his obsidian pendant into the palm of his hand. Grian doesn't know why he still has this thing; it's just a hunk of enchanted rock, and he barely wears it. However, he enjoys looking into its glassy reflection, peering back at the winged figure it shows him. It feels comforting, knowing that the real part of him is there somewhere.

A lot more comforting than how his mind has recently started to remind Grian of how far he'd strayed from his fate. Honestly? It makes Grian miss the days before being a Watcher, goofing around with friends and not angering God himself.

Grian jumps when Gem's door flies open. An unhappy Gem marched through the door frame and put her hands on her hips, "Grian."

"Wha- huh?" Grian mumbles, spinning around drowsily.

Gem only rolls her eyes, "Don't 'huh' me! What in the world did you say to Scar?!" she hisses through her teeth, loud but somehow quiet enough to keep other residents asleep.

Oh yeah. Grian had forgotten about that. Memories from the other night come flooding back, including Scar's drunken confession and Grian turning him down. His wings flutter softly as he thinks of a coherent reply. "Erm. I don't know. I don't know what I meant, I kinda just said it. I'll make it up later; give me a few hours." 

"Later doesn't cut it." Gem starts, gliding across the floor and standing in front of Grian. "Whatever you guys did yesterday, which I still don't know what you said, made Scar all mopey and pathetic, and I can't have my best friend acting like that."

Grian bites the inside of his cheek before responding, "It's complicated, real complicated. Like misunderstanding kind of complicated, alright? Like I said, I'll fix it in a few hours."

"Complicated doesn't mean anything to me. What did you say, exactly?" Gem asks, her look sharp.

"Well, Scar dragged me into a bar and he confessed some... Ehm, that happened and I basically said no -- Don't get me wrong, I felt bad! I swear-"

Gem cuts Grian off with a gasp, grasping his shoulders, "Scar- He confessed his very obvious undying love to you, and you turned him down?! Watchers, do you really not like him?"

"I like him!" Grian squeaks out, "But I- We shouldn't, that would be kind of... Er, we shouldn't"

Gem blows out a breath of air, holding her forehead with her hand, "Gosh. Tell me three reasons why you shouldn't date Scar."

Silence.

"See?" She points out, "You two make goggly eyes at each other all the time, and plus, it'd be better for Scar, like way better for Scar."

Gem then shifts to a serious tone, staring into Grian's eyes. "You know how Scar is. He's had a rough childhood and such. Gosh, he's basically hit his breaking point, Grian."

"When I first met him during the LIFE games, specifically Limited LIFE, he was funny, a hilarious guy who couldn't take anything seriously. When he mentioned he didn't have anywhere to live, I thought he was joking... Nope!... A lot of the stuff he's told me is his own business, so I'm not gonna drop it on you. All I want to say is that I don't think he's physically or mentally capable of taking on much more. Scar's spent his whole life fighting through and against injustice -- only to be punished by a fucking nobody of a god for practically being born and sent to die over, and over, and over again!"

She takes a breath in, "Even if you don't love him, please, just don't keep him like this. There's a lot of bad shit going on right now. At this point, another load on his back and we might not have around Scar anymore. Go along with it, please." Gem pleads, barely above a whisper. Then she laughs, almost like it was funny. But the look on her face really tells Grian that it's quite the opposite.

Grian recently had developed the habit of silently waiting for that voice in his head to chime in, to say something annoying but always right and piss him off for the hundredth time. This time, it doesn't come. He picks at the pendant around his neck before realising he was too quiet, so he speaks.

"I... Don't need to go along with anything. I'll fix it." Grian says confidently, though the promise feels a little dry on his tongue. 

Gem grins, "You better. Now, the grocery store is opening in a few minutes and if you two aren't at it by the time I get back I will kick you out of this damn apartment, do you hear me, sir?"

Grian chokes on any snarky reply he could have made back, "Pardon?" he asks, raising a brow, then laughing.

The dragonfly giggles back in response, "I was just kidding! But also not really... Ha... Bye, Grian!" 

Gem dashes out the door before Grian can say anything else.

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

Gem had just received her paycheck, which was great but also annoying. Half of that money went to bills, food, and taxes on that food. She usually ended up with nothing left.

However, she has to remind herself that she has gotten a raise. It's not anything major, but enough to buy a sweet or a bag of chips for Scar and Grian without breaking the bank.

She had thought that getting another roommate would just hinder her more, as she would have to feed another mouth while fighting crime and such. Turns out that Grian, while weirdly suspicious at times, was much more of a help than a hindrance. Especially with the food part, considering the only thing he usually consumes in a day is a cup of coffee and a sandwich made out of two slices of stale bread and cheese.

While Grian had his silly moments, that signature sarcasm practically leaking from every joke he uttered, Scar had somehow gotten really attached to Grian, and he didn't even need to tell her for Gem to realize that.

Yesterday, when Gem watched the two come back and let Grian basically pass out on the couch, she noticed something off with Scar. He'd been watching Grian until the wasp's breath was steady. When he'd finally fall asleep Scar let out a breath, all the smile and sunshine smeared on his face being sucked out of him in an instant.

Gem tried to ask what was wrong, like any respectable person does, but Scar simply denied everything, like he usually did. She could only watch as the raven walked back into his room, more or less slamming the door behind him.

She was scared and confused, mostly at Scar. Really, how would anyone know when Scar eventually breaks and starts rampaging like a Red Life? As the roommate she is, Gem had devoted herself to keeping Scar as physically and mentally healthy as she could.

It's harder than it looks, and at points Gem considers purposely blowing Scar's cover and turning him in, just so she can live a normal life. But she won't. She can't. Not anytime soon, at least.

Speaking of the Government, unlike Scar or Grian, Gem puts no effort into hiding who she is as Gemini because, compared to Scar, it doesn't really matter if someone knows who she is; a bit of violence can easily make a person shut up.

She's almost a hundred percent sure the Government is aware that she's Gemini, and yet they don't do anything, in fact they're almost helping. The Government keeps ripping traces of the vigilantes out of news articles and papers, it's the only way Gem was able to land a job, even if it's a shitty office one. The only downside is Pearl, because Pearl insists on being irritating and pretty at the same time.

Gem eventually makes it to the store, grabbing a cart abandoned in the middle of the parking lot and wheeling it into the store. She makes a mental list of what she needs to buy: Water, vegetables, a fruit or two, something for protein, and eggs, if the economy allows.

In record time, she's already checked off any kind of produce, half-heartedly tossing a few potatoes, baby carrots, and two plastic containers filled with cut fruits into the cart. Gem then proceeds to the aisle with all the drinks, subconsciously reaching towards her favourite brand of sparkling water.

Gem sighs, almost sadly. If there's one good thing about the LIFE games, it's that before it starts, the Government's goons serve you one meal of whatever you want. Even if it's some sort of manipulation tactic, she finds herself enjoying it much more than she really should.

Snapping out of her thoughts, Gem grabs a medium-sized pack of bottled water and lugs it into the cart. Then, because she couldn't help it, she grabs a single bottle of sparkling water and places it into the cart as well, looking around as if the other shoppers were going to have her arrested for putting sparkling water into her cart.

When Gem looks around, she makes eye contact with a child, maybe seven or eight. The kid looks at his mother, then whispers loudly; "Mom, that's the girl from that show we watch on TV every year!"

The woman looks at her child, then at Gem, then at her child again, before quickly leading the child away from Gem's cart.

Right. She's a celebrity, and not in a good way. Usually, no one notices, considering the Government likes coercing citizens into thinking all Reborns are contained. Luckily or unluckily, she is not contained, so occasionally someone recognizes her and whispers, screams, or calls the police. Gem is not a big fan of the latter.

Gem starts dragging herself to the butcher department. It's usually her least favourite part of shopping because the butcher behind the glass shelves always finds it necessary to start a random conversation with her. Today, she doesn't need too much meat, just a pound or two for good measure, so technically, there is no need to go up to the butcher area. Gem's eyes glide along the shelves of meat on a styrofoam plate, trying to find the most budget-friendly option. 

When she finally finds a kind she likes, it's just conveniently in the spot where someone is standing in front of it. A tall, lanky woman looms over the slab of beef, inspecting it like it were a piece of trash when she was guaranteed all gold. The woman sports a prosthetic and is wearing a bucket hat, her long brown hair draping over her shoulders.

Most noticeably, a familiar yellow sweatshirt with a flower embroidery was draped over her torso, baggy and cute in all the right ways.

"Opal, hi!" Gem waves, a bright smile on her face. It takes all her willpower not to flutter her wings in excitement as her shirt randomly flapping around would definitely give her away. Who knows what Opan would think of Gem then?

Opal jumps, swivelling around before smiling back. "If it isn't Gem herself, hello. Shopping as well, I see?" she replies, swinging her shopping basket slightly.

Gem laughs, "Yeah. Ran out of food and shit. You?"

The taller shrugs, "Just got tired of staying in with all my roommates. They're basically trying to kill each other twenty-four-seven."

"Relatable, except my roommates are helplessly in love," jokes Gem, a wistful expression on her face. Gem barely holds a straight face before giggling a little. Opal joins in after a few seconds.

"My roommates are basically always fucking each other, so that's still pretty accurate to my situation," Opal mentions casually. She grins at the disgusted expression Gem almost definitely makes.

Gem imitates a gagging noise, "I did not need to know that, thank you."

Opal snickers and adds, "Loudly too. The walls where I live are desperately thin." She puts her hands up with an apologetic smile when Gem lets go of her cart and mocks a roundhouse to Opal's head, barely stopping an inch away from her ear, "Sorry!... That was a good kick."

Gem beams, holding a hand over her chest proudly, "I used to practice Taekwondo. I was only a few stripes away from a black belt before I dropped."

Opal nods in acknowledgement, asking no further questions about Gem's statement. Gem's glad; if Opal had asked her why she'd quit, she probably wouldn't be able to come up with a good enough lie in time.

"Oh, by the way, you're blocking something I was gonna buy, so if you'd move, I'd be extraordinarily happy." Gem points out. Opal mumbles an apology and moves aside.

Gem had obtained all the stuff she'd need for groceries today... Except for the worst, most expensive thing on her list.

Eggs.

Goddamnit, why did they have to be so nutritious and expensive at the same time?! Gem audibly sighs, starting to push her cart away from Opal. "I'm gonna go now, gotta blow my budget on a carton of eggs."

"They're so expensive nowadays," says Opal. Her metallic arm reaches for the handle of the cart, fingers resting a centimetre or two away from Gem's hand. “I can pay, if you'd like," she offers with a weirdly mischievous spark in her eye.

Gem's heart melts a little, "Really, you'd do that for me?! If you don't mind, I'd really appreciate it if you paid me. Thank you."

Opal smiles, "No problem."

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

Grian watches the door swing shut, his stinger swaying side to side.

Well, he's here now, and a good Watcher doesn't go back on his promises.

The wasp walks up to Scar's room, giving a brief glance at the HotGuy calendar before firmly knocking on Scar's door twice. "Hey, Scar. Can we talk? Talk it out like civilised adults?"

A rustling noise is heard from beyond the door, before it swings open. Scar is standing behind that door, of course, a lackadaisy smile on his face that doesn't quite reach his eyes. Jellie is curled up on the bed behind him, the cat's head tilting up at him.

"Hey, Grian! Talk about what?" Scar asks innocently, and for a second, Grian thinks that Scar has forgotten about yesterday.

Grian sighs, avoiding eye contact. "You know what. I just wanted to apologise"

Scar's face falls a little, his voice getting softer, "You don't need to, I get it. Not everyone likes me, and I shouldn't have assumed-"

"No! That's not what I meant, Scar!" Grian frantically shakes his head, "I just miscommunicated a little bit. I miscommunicated so I'm... Er, apologise for my mistake." he admits, the full sentence weird on his tongue. God, when was the last time he apologised to someone and genuinely meant it?

"You?" Scar laughs, "I should be apologising for being an idiot."

He frowns, "God, no. You're not an idiot, Scar. Don't say that about yourself."

"My friend, I definitely, most certainly am for not recognising you didn't love me back in the same way, and looking back on it, it was like, so obvious, honestly." Scar mutters bitterly, accentuating the 'friend' part.

Grian decides that he wouldn't let Scar drone on endlessly, because he's recently noticed that much like himself, Scar was of the stubborn type. So, maybe some emphasis would drive his words into that magnificent brain of Scar's.

"Shut up!" he snaps, a little harsher than intended. "Shut your mouth. I don't wanna hear no self-deprecation around here, alright?! I know what I said at that bar was weird and confusing, and you may have taken that badly, but I..."

Grian takes a breath. He's already made it this far, can't go back now. He can hear his heart, frantically beating in his chest. "-like you, okay? No, I- I think I love you. Fuck. Ditch the think part. I love you...You're everything. You're the planets to my stars, the gravity pulling my universe together. Please, don't take anything I said last night to heart. I don't know what I was thinking." Grian blurts.  A funny feeling seeps into his chest, warm and sweet, as he grabs onto Scar's shoulders like he's about to fall over.

Scar freezes, looking down at Grian with uncertainty written all over his face. "I... I thought you said-"

"What I said isn't important; what is, I was severely confused by my lapse of judgement and right this second I love you very much."

The raven blinks rapidly, his gaze flicking to Grian's lips a few times. "Really? You mean it?"

Grian wordlessly smiles, to which in response, Scar's hand finds itself gripping Grian's chin. "If that's the case, then... Can I?" he mumbles softly, leaning forward until Grian could feel his warm breath on his face.

He nods and closes his eyes.

Suddenly, the world collides as Scar pulls Grian in, pressing their lips together. Grian is stunned for a few seconds, not expecting Scar to actually kiss him. Then, he hooks his arms around the taller neck and stands on his tip-toes so as not to break Scar's back.

Scar tastes like honey, lavender, and cheap chapstick you'd get at the average gas station, but Grian loves it and is almost immediately addicted to the taste. He sloppily deepens the kiss, tilting his head to the side and biting at Scar's lips. That prompts Scar to make a little noise, which sends a shiver down Grian's spine.

After a few seconds, Scar pulls away and envelopes Grian into a warm hug faster than Grian could take a breath.

"I haven't done that in a long while. Hope it wasn't too bad," jokes Grian, leaning into Scar's body and combing his hands through Scar's silky smooth wings.

Scar laughs, burying his head into the crook of Grian's neck. "Has anyone told you you're really cold? Because you're really cold." Scar mentions with another huff of laughter.

Grian rolls his eyes playfully, "Yeah, it's because I'm dead, obviously." he deadpans with a giggle.

The raven doesn't respond, and for a second, Grian thinks he's said something wrong again, but is quickly proven wrong when Scar's voice chimes through the quiet apartment, soft, quiet, unlike him.

"I love you."

Grian let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. A smile suddenly appears on his face. "I know."

Chapter Text

Scar is lying on the couch, staring up at the ceiling lights while Grian takes a nap, curled up on Scar's body. He's casually fiddling with the shorter's wings while liking random posts on X. Every time Scar's thumb brushes against a specific part on Grian's paper-thin wings, he'd make a cute noise, like waking a cat up while it was sleeping, The comparison almost makes Scar feel bad, and he gives a tentative glace down to Jellie, who was sprawled across a mat placed next to the front door.

Now that he thinks about it, Grian is like a black cat: brave, intelligent, and absolutely adorable -- the only difference being that Grian body was as cold as a metaphorical ice cube.

Scar's head hurt like he'd just been hit by a firetruck, part hangover, part still being shocked from kissing Grian, but mostly because he'd been glaring at the lights for so long. Something about the painful throb that amplified from the lights after a few drinks was comforting in a weird way

A few minutes ago, Gem had come back, squealed at Scar and Grian's position, and skipped to the fridge with a bag of groceries.

She quickly removes everything from the brown plastic bags and shoves it in the fridge, before holding up a bag full of individually wrapped chocolates.

"Scar~!" She sings happily, "I got some of your favorite chocolates!"

Scar almost jumps off the couch, barely keeping from flinging Grian into the stratosphere, "Really?!" He squeals excitedly, wings fluffing up.

Chocolate isn't very expensive in general, due to being mass-produced across the whole country, but it's still surprising that Gem managed to get her hands on a bag with various kinds. Citizens, especially the wealthy and elite, go feral for that stuff, and Scar's seen it retail for up to $400 online. Yes, he doesn't need the chocolate to live, but it's addicting, and honestly? He can see why wealthy gatekeep chocolate like it's Watcher blood.

The raven carefully lifts and places Grian on the couch alone, wincing at the groan Grian gives before tiptoeing away, partially in dramatics. When he makes it to the countertop and Grian is still asleep, he lets out a breath. "How'd you get that? I'm guessing you didn't pay the price of a kidney to buy that online." Scar asks curiously, leaning on the kitchen island.

Gem laughs, "Watchers, no! I can't pay that much for chocolate... Just guess."

"Uhm..." Scar falters, "Did you... Fight the wealthy for it when it restocked?"

"Nope!"

"Find it on the sidewalk randomly?" Scar tries.

"Nnnnnope!"

"Did you..." Suddenly, Scar's voice takes on a serious tone. "Steal it?"

Gem snorts, "I fight crime with you. Obviously not."

Scar chuckles, "I was just joking. Kind of." he quickly adds.

The red-haired girl gives a sigh before revealing where she'd gotten the premium chocolate. "Opal, do you remember Opal? Well, she bought it for me! Can you believe it?! I thought she ghosted me!"

"Opal? She's back, hooray!" Scar cheers, "Uh, but she really paid for that? In-store? Because once again, that's kind of really expensive."

Gem thinks for a second, "She did, which now that I think about it, no one was fighting her for the last bag, nor did she even falter at the price tag. Strange..." She shakes her head. "Who cares about right now? Chocolate time!"

Her nimble fingers rip open the bag of chocolates, digging around till she finds the caramel-filled one. Gem slides Scar a milk chocolate one, the silver wrapper gleaming like a chunk of diamond, "Cheers?"

Scar can't help but grin, unwrapping the chocolate and mimicking a 'clink'  when he touches it with Gem's own chocolate. "Cheers!"

Just as Scar's teeth sink into the creamy dessert, Grian pops up over the couch, spreading his wings and flying dangerously close to the ceiling. Flipping over in the air, he mimics lying on his chest and looks down at the bag. "Planning to eat chocolate without me? Scar, just what kind of boyfriend of thirty minutes are you?" he jokes, dipping down to reach for an almond-filled chocolate and munching on it happily.

Scar makes a point of laughing and definitely does not feel a pang of hurt by Grian's comment at all. Gem makes a concerned face for a split second, but blinks it off.

"I cannot believe you two are together now!" Gem squeals, "It's so cute! I must stop myself from screaming whenever I think about it."

"Well," Grian says through chocolatey goodness, "Like I said, it's been official for the record time of thirty minutes, and you just got home... So I doubt you've had much time to think about it."

"If you scream, we'll get another noise complaint like last time." Scar mentions with a snicker at his own comment. "Do you remember that?" he turns to Grian, "Gem, here, used to fly basically everywhere in this apartment, from the couch to the fridge to her room. She kept, like, running into walls. The neighbors got really fed up and called the police over it. Gem almost had a heart attack when they showed up at the door."

Grian giggles at Scar's recollection of the situation, while Gem makes a noise of exasperation. "Wouldn't you be scared if the police randomly showed up at our doors looking for one of us?"

The raven hums in consideration, taking another chocolate and popping it in his mouth. "Yeah, but the reason why they were called was pretty funny," he says through ooey-gooeyness.

"Ew. Scar, chew with your mouth closed!" Grian proclaims with a sweet giggle, moving his hands to cover Scar's mouth.

Gem's eyes widen, "Oh, Grian, I wouldn't-"

Fortunately, Gem's warning comes too late, as Scar licks the palm of Grian's hand, smirking at his sudden recoil away from Scar's face.

"Scaaar!" Grian whines pitifully, frantically wiping his hand on Gem's cardigan. D'Y'know what? I thought we could be a dessert duo with all this chocolate, but at this point, it's more of a desert duo with how fast I'm deserting you after that move." He mutters, but the words hold no bite. Then, in a quieter voice, he says, "Not sexy at all."

"If I were Joel, I'd be offended by that. I'm not a scorpion with mild temper issues, so I take that to no offense." It was Scar's turn to make the room all tense and awkward, with Gem clearing her throat awkwardly at the mention of his name and Grian cocking his head, an unreadable expression on his face.

It's now silent, not completely silent, of course, just too quiet. All Scar can hear is the hum of the air conditioning and the brief flapping of Grian's wings as he tossed a rolled-up wrapper from one hand to another.

Suddenly, Gem rapidly flutters her wings, creating a loud buzz to cover up the kitchen's silence.

Finally, Scar speaks with a twitch of his own wings, "Anyway... Desert duo. Uhm, cool name, actually. We should coin that and march around calling ourselves that."

"Right? I'm not trying to brag, but that was kind of an ingenious phrase that I made up on the spot." Grian instantly agrees, posing a limp wrist nonchalantly.

Gem instantly cheers up, clapping with a sneaky grin on her face, "Power. Couple. You guys are so power couple energy!"

Grian snickers, "A little bit, a little bit. We just need a Llama and some sand to finish the desert look."

"I'm not 100% about the sand thing... But we need a Llama. A Llama friend for Jellie!" he exclaims, running from the table to scoop a mildly frightened Jellie into his arms. "Isn't that right? Aweee... You're such a cutie!"

As Scar cradles Jellie, he hears Gem and Grian start discussing some other things in the background. His brain is kind of focused on playing with Jellie right now, so he isn't really paying attention.

Well he wasn't paying attention until Grian flicks Scar on the nose. "Hey, hey! Gem said she's got a bit of extra money thanks to Opal, and there's a new movie she wants to watch. It sounds really, really... Well, interesting to say the least. Wanna come? I'm only going if you go, just sayin'."

"Oh." Scar puts Jellie back on the floor, who instantly goes back to sleeping. "Yeah! Sure. Sounds fun. Which movie?"

"Uh. Mission: Impossible...? The Final- The Final Reckoning, I think." Grian stammers, glancing back at Gem with every breath.

Scar nods consideringly, "It's the guy who goes on those super cool missions, right? He has an amazing theme song, by the way. Super catchy, it plays in my head every once in a while."

Gem laughs, collecting metallic wrappers into her hand. "Right!? Watchers, Ethan Hunt is honestly kind of a hear-me-out... And that's a lot coming from me." Then, she turns to Grian, "Have you watched a Tom Cruise film? You seem like the kind of guy to do so."

Grian smiles, toothy and tipping on the verge of nervous, "Of course! He's quite the guy. Uh, yeah. Big fan. Huge fan."

"What's your favourite film?" Scar inquired, picking at his nails absently.

"Oh. Love the uh... First showing of Mission: Impossible. Fantastic piece of work." Grian tacks on, slowly sinking towards the floor awkwardly.

Scar can't help the bubble of laughter that makes its way from his throat. "You've never seen a Mission: Impossible movie, is that it?" he catches Grian before the slowly descending wasp hits the ground, teasingly pulling him into a bridal carry and placing him on Scar's lap with a few headpats.

"Nope. Not even a Tom Cruise movie. Can't believe I'm gonna watch the finale of a film with no context to the other parts at all." Grian sighed the words out as if they disappointed him personally. The shorter wraps Scar's wings around himself, making a makeshift blanket. It's adorable, and Scar makes sure to capture every part of the moment to store in his memory.

Well, maybe he'd leave out the fact that Grian's stinger is basically stabbing him in the guts right now. But still, very cute.

Gem makes a fake gagging noise. "You two are more disgusting than the Watcher Himself. I'm vomiting."

Scar finds the expression quite funny and offers a bark of laughter. Apparently, Grian doesn't, as he makes a noise of discomfort, wriggling around Scar's grasp. He can practically hear and taste Grian's eyeroll.

"What? Don't find that funny? Don't tell me you're a Xelqua bootlicker." Gem says with a teasing bite, like a rattlesnake with no venom. However, part of her tone sounds almost curious, testing Grian's moral stability.

Not that Gem or Scar's morals were any better, anyway.

Grian sighs again, "No, it's not that, it's just... Kind of off-putting. I don't do religious shit like that."

"Not really a religion, more like a cult." Scar points out. It can't be a religion if the god is very much real, and very much a pesky manipulator, most likely. "You'd be stupid not to believe in Watchers at this point. They even have a whole Twitter page, for LIFE's sake."

A small snort is heard from Grian as he shifts his weight and leans back, letting Scar rest his chin on Grian's head. "Yeah, you'd be real stupid not to believe, I'll give you that one."

"So, what's your stance, then? This is a crucial question, actually." Gem asks, leaning over the kitchen island and Scar's wings to poke Grian on the cheek, who immediately swats at her hands.

"I- He's an interesting character in my story, I'd say. An all-powerful... Selfish... Scheming... Power-hungry..." Grian trails off, getting quieter with every trait he lists off on his fingers. His hand clenches into a fist, falling to his side. Scar flinches when it violently hits his thigh with a thump. "You get it. Not a good guy, but I acknowledge His presence, that's all."

Gem shrugs, "Fair. Now, are we going to watch the movie or not? I'm going to book the tickets for the next hour. Stop being lovey-dovey and get ready. I don't want to third wheel too hard today."

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

Scar, Grian, and Gem are now sitting in a movie theatre, staring at the screen as the lights dim. On screen, a woman in shiny heels talks about the magic in AMC movies, or something like that.

Gem is sitting between Scar and Grian because there is "no making out in roommate bonding time." Who said Scar would make out with Grian in a public place anyway?

The next hour is and some minutes a blur, with Tom Cruise looking forty years too old for his role, and somehow still doing insane backflips and murdering two people with a butcher's knife with ease that Scar wishes to gain one day.

Is it bad that Ethan Hunt is kind of Scar's idol?

Anyway, in the movie, Ethan needs to destroy The Entity and almost dies from hypothermia while his girlfriend makes friends with a dude in the middle of the tundra, whom Scar dubs "Etho Glorified" because he's forgotten the man's name already. Then, Etho Glorified dies in a massive fire, and now Scar is sad because he didn't really want Etho Glorified to die.

In a rather quiet scene, Grian leans over Gem and whispers, "Not gonna lie, Gem was right. He's kind of hot."

Scar gasps dramatically, "You're leaving me for Tom Cruise?!"

"No, idiot." Grian teases, "He does actually remind me a lot of you, y'know? So you should be taking that as a compliment 'cause I think you're as hot as Tom Cruise... Actually, you can add an 'er' to hot there." He winks but gets cut off and is pushed back to his seat by an agitated Gem. Scar preens proudly from Grian's comment for a while.

Later, halfway through the most tense, vomit-inducing underwater scene that has Scar's head spinning slightly, the lights pop back on, making his head throb painfully in an instant. To top it all off, some person comes running into the theatre, hollering.

Wait, hollering?

"The Corrupteds have escaped again," The person yells, "They're attacking nearby, all of them at once! Evacuate immediately!" 

Chapter Text

As soon as the officer utters those words, it feels like Scar's mental state shifts. From the action filled movie, to something that could compare to a hollywood film, in real life.

Unfortunately, Scar can't show his wings and fight the Corrupteds head-on due to being in public. 

Another day of being utterly useless, good job, Scar. He thinks to himself, bitterly shoving down the overwhelming urge to make his fist meet a certain moth's face.

Gem glances at Scar, giving him that all-seeing, all-knowing look that's screaming, "Don't do anything stupid, Scar."

He knows that Gem probably wants the best for Scar, wants him to sit down and let chaos erupt across the city. However, she just doesn't get it. She'll never get it. She'll never know the dread of winning a game you never signed up for, not meeting a fate Scar deserved, but instead hiding inside a stupid cabin for two months until you physically couldn't anymore. Until you start hallucinating and the Government personally greets you with the cold, hard steel of a gun.

Sometimes he wishes that they had pulled the trigger.

Gem only fights with him because he's too pathetic to do anything on his own. Scar's never gotten confirmation, no. But he can't shake the feeling that Gem laughs, mocks, and points behind his back. People have always liked Gem better, anyway. Everyone knows who she is, and no one questions it. However, as soon as someone gets a good look at Scar's face, connects it to that photo of Scar on his Red Life -- which he hates by the way -- they don't hesitate to call the police, or try to kill him, or something along those lines.

Watchers, he wishes he could tear off his wings right here, right now; watch the feathers and flesh splatter onto the ground and feel the skull shattering pain echo through his body like a lone singer in an empty chapel. He deserves it anyway, doesn't he? After all, a fool of a man shouldn't even be alive anyway-

A soft touch on Scar's arm jolts him out of the pulling vortex of dread his mind was swirling up. His head snaps up, turning around, expecting to see Gem with a pitying look on her face. Instead, it's Grian, piercing Scar's soul with those sparkling cocoa and violet eyes. Gem's standing behind him, but it doesn't really matter because it feels like his heart's been stabbed with an arrow. Grian's looking at him with a gaze softer than silk, way less abrasive than the shrilling prankster that Grian usually is.

Grian nudges Scar forward, nodding towards the theatre exit, and Scar's body instantly complies, hastily jogging down the steps.

Grian would get it, Scar thinks while walking out of the dim lighting in the theatre, he'd get it because Grian shouldn't be real and yet stays empathetic. He is so much better than him, and yet he stays with Scar despite the dozens of mistakes he stumbles over daily.

Scar is almost instantly hit in the face with screaming, very loud screaming. Kids and adults alike are running out of the building, the revolving doors barely keeping up with the number of people flooding onto the streets.

Who could be causing all this havoc? Scar expects The Moth, or maybe The Assassin Bug. Instead, wolf ears flick under artificial lighting, the glow of metal from an artificial arm, and crimson eyes meet his.

"Mm... Just the people I was looking for!" The Wolf sings cheerfully, mockingly. She shoves people out of the way, snickering when she comes in contact with a staff member and they let out a blood-curdling scream.

The Wolf's gaze noticeably lingers on Gem for a hot minute, but flicks over to Scar and Grian with a mischievous glint in her eye. "I've been scouring every inch of the goddamn internet to find you guys tonight. I even showed up at your apartment. But of course scum like you wouldn't open the door." She spits, adjusting a red shoulder cape to cover the beating heart through white ribs.

"Now, why would we open the door for someone like you?" Scar laughs dryly, cracking his knuckles.

She cackles, covering her abdomen to keep her guts from spilling across the floor. "Oh, I don't know, Scar. Maybe it's because your little wasp shot Martyn in the chest, and my ex, who's coincidentally your partner in crime, chopped my arm off, then wrecked Scott's upper half the other day? He came back and looked like a good representation of me after Double Life!"

The Wolf casually pulls out a dagger, the same brand Gem usually uses, turns around, and launches it at a pregnant woman running for the exit. The woman screams and falls over. A child, who can't be older than five, yells out and drops a stuffed bear in his grasp. But he's already in the revolving door and Scar can only watch as the kid's hand catches in the metal door.

The people in the sector in front of the child didn't notice, though, and kept pushing the door forward. Scar hears Gem gag as the child's hand shreds into scraps of flesh. He hears The Wolf utter a quiet "bullseye," and instantly, a surge of rage Scar didn't know he could even conjure pushes out of his chest.

Scar's wings start spreading open as he instinctively lunges for The Wolf. However, Gem catches his wrist, and when she isn't able to keep Scar back, Grian joins in, pulling Scar back.

"Don't." Grian whispers in his ear, weirdly light and airy for the situation they were in. A stark contrast from a few minutes ago. "She's trying to bait you to attack. Once you do, you're not gonna make it out in one piece."

Scar slowly nods, eyes locked on the figure in front of him, who laughs with a hint of confusion when Scar doesn't lunge straight away. "... Alright. What should I do then, because I may or may not want to kill her right now?"

Grian is silent for a little bit before letting go of Scar gingerly. "Her heart is exposed. I'd estimate it's a few inches to our right from that button on the cape she's wearing. If you lock it perfectly, she'll be out of commission for weeks."

He takes another breath to say something else, but is cut off by The Wolf lunging towards him, barreling Grian into a wall. "Don't think I can't hear your plans. I'm a wolf for Watcher's sake. I can hear you, y'know?"

Grian responds with nothing but a straight punch to the nose. The Wolf winces, then growls as she pulls out her sword.

Scar decides that he can't stand around and do nothing, so he grabs The Wolf's arms and pulls her away from Grian, kicking and growling like a feral dog.

Grian makes a relieved noise, but then yells, "Scar, blade!"

Scar shrieks as The Wolf's sword connects with his shoulder-blade, dropping her in an instant and running a hand over ripped fabric. It's not deep, he'll live.

The Wolf snarls, ears drooping as she eyes Grian and Scar like prey, deciding on which one to eat first. Gem interrupts with a beautiful crescent kick to the head. "Hey... Ugh... Pearl! You said you wanted to have a quick little girls' talk a few months back, so let's finish that up, yeah?"

A manic grin slips onto The Wolf's face, "My name! Oh, finally! I'm listening, darling." she punctuates the end of her sentence with quick footwork, landing a side kick into Gem's solar plexus, then barely missing a hook punch when Gem hastily recovers, dodging with a heave.

"Don't get too cocky, now." Gem mutters, giving a quick wink to Scar and Grian before trying a second kick.

Grian acts quickly, faster than Scar could even process that Gem had just addressed The Wolf by her name. No one does that these days.

"Okay, Scar. I- I stole this off The Wolf when she slammed me into that wall earlier." Grian hands Scar a netherite dagger and glances at The Wolf and Gem fighting, wincing when Gem gets hit with a simple punch to the head. "Gem is distracting The Wolf, or Pearl, or whatever her name is. Wait till Gem lands a good blow, which she will, and slip it through that shoulder cape. Naturally, it should go through her ribs and stab her in some vital organ, but we're aiming for the heart, which as I said, is a few inches, or centimeters, to the right of the button on that cape."

"Yeah, yeah. I can do that, totally." Scar says nervously. Right now is not a great time to be nervous, but here he is.

"You got this, I believe in you. If you need help, I'll take care of it. Don't worry about me protecting my... Reborn identity, just go."

"I-" Does he mean that?

No. Shut up, just focus.

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

Gem never thought she'd actually have to fist-fight someone for real. Normally, it's a quick spar, or the person she's fighting is an incompetent mess. Many she had fought would be much stronger, and Gem barely took a blow or two before she was out. She'd never thought she would fight someone on an equal level with her, because that felt impossible, with everyone's growth being slower or faster than others.

Until today at least.

Fighting The Wolf- Pearl was different. They'd gone to the same dojo as children, the one underground that aspired to train Reborns to their full potential. The two had even dropped out at the same time.

It was strange how it turned out, really, because you can never run from the Government forever. The only difference was that Gem could hide for longer, mask herself in the shadows until she was pried out.

By the time Gem had been found, it was already too late.

Pearl had parted with the promise of seeing each other again one day. To run into the hills and live a happy life together, away from forced religion and unjust judgment. Even when Gem was substituted in for Cleo as a test of strength, she hadn't even gotten to speak to Pearl once.

When they finally collided back together, sparks flying, it dawned on Gem that this wasn't the Pearl she knew—not the Pearl she loved.

This Pearl was brutal, focused not on light-hearted teasing and defending others. This Pearl craved blood, death, and sacrifice. This Pearl was a Trojan Horse of some kind. Innocent until she wasn't.

Maybe that's why it makes fighting her so much harder, the fact that Gem could match face and body to the woman she loved the most, only for the personality not to align at all.

She has to tell herself not to feel bad when she successfully tricks Pearl with a question mark kick, watching the wolf Reborn reel backwards and bounce back with burning determination.

"Gem, you said we were going to talk. Where'd that go? Cat got your tongue?" Pearl taunts, attempting to sweep Gem under her feet, but misses and instead sends a kick to Gem's temple. Despite knowing that ducking had wasted valuable seconds, Gem ducks anyway, barely being missed by Pearl.

Gem rolls her eyes, "There isn't much to say, Pearl. I'm fighting you, and kicks speak louder than words. You'd know that more than anyone." Punch. Hook. Gem somehow lands a combo on Pearl's pretty face, and in response, gets a roundhouse in the head. Damn it, she really has to fix her stance, because she cannot block these kicks.

But maybe the stance wasn't the problem, because as Gem sputters, she processes that Pearl brings the kick all the way through, and now that she thinks about it, Pearl had barely hit Gem with her foot, it was more shin. It was a classic Muay Thai thing to do.

Pearl laughs as Gem stumbles back, "Like it? Learned it from Scott. A lot more fun, less spinny."

She can't help but scoff, despite her ears ringing, "You rely on Scott so much. You can't do anything without him, despite hating him so much, apparently."

Pearl freezes, "Say that again. I didn't hear you the first time," she says with a growl, canines shining.

"You can't do anything by yourself. You're a pitiful excuse of a person. No, y'know what? You're barely a person at all!" Gem spits, throwing a straight punch to Pearl's face.

She doesn't say anything in response; instead, she catches the punch, twists Gem's forearm over, puts her arm over Gem's elbow, and starts pushing down, slowly, tauntingly.

Holy shit.

An alarm starts firing in Gem's head as she instinctively starts trying to wriggle away. Pearl grabs her other hand and tilts Gem's face up, a hideous smirk on her face. "Me? A pitiful excuse? Oh, you should really look in the mirror."

"Shut it." Gem seethes, "Let me go."

Pearl cackles, "Not after that stunt you just pulled. Nobody loves you, Gem. Not even Grian, not even Scar. Your own roommates can't even trust you."

"No, that's not true at all. You don't know anything. Scar and I could be siblings with how close we are. Grian would have left already if he didn't trust me. Plus, I've got a new girlfriend, so fuck you too."

The taller doesn't seem to react to anything Gem says, up until the last part. She laughs, grip on Gem's arm almost slipping away, but quickly tightening again as she throws her head back. "Girlfriend? Hah! What if I told you that your little toy, Opal, was actually yours truly?"

"That can't-" Gem stops, processing Pearl's words. Slowly, it started making sense. The eyepatch covering the darkness of Pearl's eye, the same coloured hair, the shitty American accent, the bucket hat and baggy clothing. But most of all, that shining prosthetic arm, the same bright silver as the one gripping her wrists this second. "You-"

Pearl only smiles, searching for some other reaction other than shocked stammering before slowly shaking her head, "See? Without me, no one is there to love you. You need me, Gem. No matter how much both of us might despise it."

"I..." Then, she realizes something, looks up at the crowd starting to surround the two, and musters a response. "Okay then, sure, whatever. But you realize that by being Opal, the 'only one for me', you've just single-handedly proved your last statement wrong."

"What?"

"If you loved me so bad that you had to come back, put on a fake mask, and date me again, that means someone does love me. And that person is you-" Gem's words cut off with a scream, her own scream, she realizes. Gem gingerly looks up to see Pearl's eyes a mix of fury and confusion, bending down, arm pushing, and thus breaking Gem's right elbow in one clean motion.

"Gem!" Scar yells, but Gem shakes her head and gives a lopsided thumbs up, sharply inhaling as her elbow and ribs scream in agony.

It hurts. It hurts really badly, but Gem can still go on. Now that Pearl's proved there's no coercing in this fight, Gem might as well try to take out something made from the consequences of her own actions.

She yanks her arm away, biting back another shout of pain and using her non-dominant hand to send a punch into Pearl's nose.

Pearl immediately reels up to strike back, body starting to turn for a kick, but Gem responds with a back kick. Even after breaking her arm, Gem still can't help but feel a little bad when she hears a handful of crunches and watches as pieces of bone fall out of Pearl's chest. Pearl gasps, clutching her ribs and staring at Gem like she'd just single-handedly wiped out humanity itself.

Gem spares Pearl a second glance before looking back at Scar and nodding towards Pearl. Scar hesitates, looking at all the people, but then shakes his head. With a deep breath Gem could visibly see wrack through his body, his wings launch open under his shirt.

It's only a blur of black feathers after that, Scar practically teleporting to Pearl... No, behind her.

Pearl's shoulder cape had been torn clean off, exposing shattered ribs and a pumping heart. Not so much pumping to her organs and what's left of her charred flesh anymore, more pumping onto the ground. If Gem turned her head a little, she could see part of Pearl's lungs slit open and convulsing for air.

The wolf gives a soft, "Gem-" before collapsing to the ground, eyes still open as blood starts soaking the theatre's carpet.

Scar, despite barely moving, is hyperventilating, watching the blood pool around his shoes. She sees his head turn up at the crowd, and he slowly looks around at everyone staring at Scar and his magnificent wings.

Instantly, the whispering starts: pointing, gasps of recognition, and some sounds of fear. Scar shrinks back, dropping Pearl's dagger to the ground, covered in presumably still-warm blood. He looked ready to run for his life.

But then, someone starts clapping.

Grian walks up behind Scar, hands slapping together with an expression of awe on his face. The whispering immediately stops, the room fully silent except for the sound of Pearl groaning on the ground and Grian's applause.

Then, another joins him, and now there are two people clapping. Then another. And another.

Soon, the whole room explodes in applause, hoots and cheering at Scar... She thinks. Because her vision starts cutting out, dark creeping in at the edges of her vision.

Gem's legs give out, knees buckling as her head hits the ground with a sickening thud. She hears Grian and Scar yelp in concern. But the darkness felt comforting at the moment, for right now.

The last thing she hears is someone yelling, "Someone get that girl to the hospital!" before it all goes dark. 

Chapter Text

Grian watches as The Wolf bleeds out on the neon speckled floors, clapping his hands together absent-mindedly.

She'll probably make it. The Government seems to have the technology to piece her heart back together, maybe even make her a new body entirely.

He doesn't really want her to come back.

As a God, as a leader, he should maybe be a little nicer to his subjects, and definitely be much more empathetic. For some reason, Grian can't find the energy or will to feel any remorse for The Wolf. Perhaps that makes him a bad person, but all she does is make everything worse for everyone and stress out Scar, despite her inability to hold a fight properly. Grian could probably fight better blindfolded and with his hands cut off.

Like all villains, she probably has a reason for being like this. The way The Wolf had screamed Gem's name before collapsing to the ground was both intriguing and eerie.

Why was Grian clapping again? 

Right. Scar had just sliced a woman's... A dead woman's heart open a few minutes ago, and Grian noticed the eyes. Staring, whispering, judging. He had to snap the thick layer of tension and give Scar the credit he rightfully deserved. Scar deserved the applause. He deserved the whole planet, and yet people still dared to gossip about him, the Reborn that had just saved all their lives.

They're the same as you, and yet you still think you're in the right?

I never said I was above any of these people. I never, ever, said I was remotely better.

Grian is shaken out of his thoughts when he realises that most people have stopped clapping. Now, people are swarming Gem. Grian creeps closer to the circle of people surrounding Gem when he sees her collapsed on the ground.

Instinctively, his eyes scan the crowd until they lock with emerald ones. Scar looked panicked, rightfully so. Grian should probably help him.

"Hey, hey! What happened? What happened to Gem?" Grian asks hastily, jogging to Scar's side.

Scar looks nervous, eyes flicking across dozens of people, and wings twitching nervously anytime someone stares at them for more than a second. "I don't really know. The Wolf did kick her in the head a few times and broke her arm. So I guess I'd get why she'd pass out," he says, voice trying to keep that humorous tone to it, yet obviously failing.

Grian gnaws on his bottom lip, "You okay? You look shaken."

The taller sighs, "Don't worry about me. Just processing." Then, Scar looks towards Grian, "You did a really great job telling me what to do, by the way. Gem might have been worse off if she tried to fight The Wolf by herself."

Grian giggles, preening from the compliment. "No, it was really nothing. You did all the hard work, Scar."

"No!" Scar interjects, "I would have utterly failed if I tried myself," he says, slightly flicking Grian on the nose. "But really, how did you know all of that? It was impressive."

"Pretty basic knowledge, actually." Grian shrugs.

Scar smiles, genuine and bright. Grian's heart flutters at the motion, "Basic?! Whatever basic knowledge you're learning, you'll have to teach me. I never thought-" Scar makes a choking noise, laughing in between it. It took a few moments to realise that Scar was about to cry.

"Whoa, you alright? Did I say something wrong?"

"No. I just..." Scar laughs again, blinking rapidly, "Never really thought I'd be standing here in front of all these people, accepted for what I was born as."

"Awh. Glad I was able to help, then." Grian beamed.

A loud siren fills the room, and Scar physically jumps, tensing in an instant. Grian's head snaps toward the entrance of the theatre to see an ambulance parked outside.

"Was an ambulance necessary?" Grian asks absent-mindedly.

"If it helps Gem, I suppose so." Scar responds, then, he sheepishly looks away from the door, "I don't know what the doctors would think about Gem's status as a LIFE member. Also, about paying hospital fees..."

Grian rolled his eyes playfully, "You've just gained about two hundred fans in the span of an hour. I'm sure they wouldn't mind paying."

Scar furrows his eyebrows, "...I don't want to use them for money. Feels kind of immoral."

"Why not? They're at your disposal right now."

"No. That's not right. Er..." Scar glances at Grian, almost nervously. "I'll consider it. Totally."

Grian nods, knowing Scar had just declined the request without directly saying it.

He doesn't get it. What's so wrong with simply getting some money out of these people? Grian thought everyone did that these days, and it doesn't even seem that immoral anyway.

Grian used to do that a lot, anyway.

Oh.

Yeah, he thinks he gets the problem now.

Grian sighs, stepping aside for emergency responders so they could put an unconscious Gem onto a stretcher and carry her right back out the doors.

A part of Grian was concerned. From what Grian could understand, most already knew Gem's identity, and considering she doesn't care about the public shaming and keeps attacking their minions, he has a feeling that the Government may not like her.

But she isn't jailed yet, so maybe it's different?

Whatever. Grian turns to Scar, who is staring after Gem, a concerned look on his face. "Hey, I'm sure she'll be fine. It's probably just the stress of the situation. After all, the only thing majorly wrong is her arm breaking, I believe," comforts Grian, who is rocking back and forth on his heels.

"Doesn't make it any better," Scar sighs, turning away from the door after a few moments of silence.

Grian is about to agree when the crowd comes rushing back, this time with an extremely high energy.

People of all colours and sizes run up to Scar, bombarding him with praises and sudden questions like: "Is that Scar from the LIFE games?! Is that really you?", "You saved our life, you truly are different from how the president portrays you!", and more noteably, "Are you the HotGuy?!" including, "Do you know who the Wasp Reborn is? The one that works with Gemini and HotGuy?"

Scar jumps from all the sudden attention, a plastic smile on his face as he answers as many questions as possible in rapid succession. "Unfortunately, I have gone through the LIFE games... Er, thanks! I appreciate the support... I can't answer that one, because it will definitely be used against me if I get caught, but I'm sure you can come up with your own conclusion? And, maybe I do, maybe I don't."

Grian considers stepping in and asking for money or protection from arrest, but he doesn't. Scar wouldn't like it if he did. Neither would the Government.

Would it really be his problem if Scar and Gem got caught? He could leave almost any time.

No. What is he thinking?. Grian shakes his head, stepping in front of Scar after watching him stumble over his words for the tenth time, "Hey. Can we leave Scar alone for a hot minute? Everything is happening quickly, and we should let him relax for a second."

Silence. Then, someone pipes up, "Why should we listen to you?! Who even are you? The Watchers probably don't even know!"

Grian snorts from the person's words. He bites down on his tongue to prevent himself from cackling in the irony of it all and simply shakes his head with a small smile."I'm his roommate. And trust me, I'm sure the Watchers know who I am, just like how the Watchers know all of us."

"What do you say, Scar?!" Someone hollers. Scar blinks a few times like he had been snapped out of some sort of line of thought before nodding. 

"I've known him for a good time, so you can trust him. Admittedly, I do kind of want to leave. I need to check up on my friend."

The crowd give Scar a bunch of "okay!" and "it's fine!"s before Scar nudges Grian's hand a little with his pinkie, before hesitantly taking Grian's hand and intwining it with his and leading Grian out of the theatre. Surprisingly, a roar of cheers erupts from the crowd when Scar looks down with a wonderful expression on his face that will probably leave Grian thinking about him for the next five thousand years.

Grian almost forgets to walk when Scar gets out of arm's reach. The sudden contact and Scar in general knocked the two brain cells out of his head, and he has to forcefully shove them back in, his face flushed as he quickly follows after.

Scar's car is still sitting in the parking lot when the two make it outside. Of course it's still there, why wouldn't it? Scar hops into the driver's seat while Grian sits in the passenger.

The taller pulls out his phone, "Which hospital do you think Gem is being taken to? I'm not a hundred per cent sure, but she's probably being taken to the closest-" Scar cuts himself off, jaw dropped as he stares at his phone.

"Scar? What's wrong?" Grian asks frantically, wondering if something catastrophic happened. Instead, Scar turns his phone towards Grian.

Upon first glance, nothing looks wrong. It's just X -- god Grian hates that app -- but nothing really seems wrong. It's a bit odd that #scargoodtimes and #hotguy is trending right now, but it doesn't seem too weird.

Until Grian takes a good look at the content on the screen, Scar had over one thousand notifications at the moment, and counting. But most notably, all the recommended posts were of Scar standing in front of The Wolf, knife through her chest as her mouth was open in a shocked gasp.

He can't help but scroll a little more.

Scar shuffles awkwardly as Grian looks at all the posts about Scar that had been posted in the last half an hour. Most of them were surprised praises about Scar and his good-doings, others were about Gemini relating to Scar, and how Scar was probably HotGuy.

There was also a blurry photo of Scar and Grian posted, walking out of the theatre. Photo-Grian had a horribly smitten look on his face, and Grian pushed the phone back to Scar for his own dignity. "So. That's a good thing, right?"

"I... Don't really know. I'm hoping that means the Government will change their viewpoints on Reborns, but probably not. They never change." Scar says, ending his words with a bitter note. Grian quickly attempts to change the topic.

"We should probably see Gem now. Most likely, she's been taken to the closest hospital."

Scar nods in agreement. He opens the GPS app, and the two immediately start off to the hospital.

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

The two make it to the hospital. Scar had tucked away his wings again, and Grian can't be one to judge. After all, it's probably instinct.

Scar and Grian go up to the front desk. Scar starts speaking, with a shaky but firm tone in his voice. The front desk lady seems visibly shocked to see Scar standing in front of her, but she doesn't say anything. "My friend just got, what's the word? Right, admitted. Sorry. My friend was admitted here via ambulance, and I was wondering if she was in this hospital, possibly?"

"What's her name, Scar?"

The raven visibly winces at being recognised so easily, but he responds quickly regardless, "Gem Tay. May twenty-second."

The woman looks even more surprised to hear Gem's name. If she has any sort of opinion on Reborns, she doesn't show it. The woman looks at her computer, typing in a few things before shaking her head. "Sorry, she doesn't seem to be here today. You may want to try somewhere else."

Grian blinks, "Not here? Is there any way to figure out where she might be?"

The front desk lady shrugs, "That's not something I could find out this second. You could try the other hospital a few miles down, though."

"Thanks anyway." Scar nods, leaving the hospital.

To be honest, none of them ever asked which hospital Gem was being admitted to. Which, looking back upon, was a pretty fatal flaw.

No problem, though, the two had a lot of time on their hands, to Grian's knowledge, and it didn't seem like this place was stocked with hospitals, nevertheless. So he supposes it wouldn't hurt to check a few more.

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

"Gem Tay is not here. I apologise."

Scar nods slowly, hand gripping Grian's tightly that Grian's hand was hurting a little bit. Wordlessly, Scar starts to turn around, thus taking Grian with him.

Grian sighs, while Scar lets go of his hand once they get outside and starts pacing. "She's not here. She's not here. Grian, what in the world are we supposed to do? That was the last hospital in a fifty-mile radius. Where- What happened? Watchers, I knew we couldn't trust these people. I can't believe I let-"

The shorter cover's Scar's mouth, waiting for Scar to stop squirming before moving his hand away. "Hey, it's alright. I'm sure she's... Fine. Just sit down in the car for now, okay? We can think it over once you calm down, 'kay?"

"Right, right," Scar says flatly, getting in the car, slamming the door, and staring down at the carpeted ground.

Now, Grian isn't a health expert, but usually ambulances don't take their patients a billion miles away from the city they were taken in.

Would Scar forgive him for being a Watcher if he used his powers right now to track Gem down? Because he could certainly do that. After thinking about it for more than three seconds, Grian decided against it. It would certainly only make things worse.

So, Grian was left with a singular, straightforward question, one that Scar definitely shared.

Where in the world did Gem go?

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

Gem wakes up with a start, taking a gasp in as the world spins. Watchers, her head hurts like hell. The fluorescent lights on the ceiling really didn't help.

Wait, fluorescent lights? And judging by the rocking of the tiny room she was in, this was a vehicle.

Medical equipment was everywhere, leading her to one conclusion. Gem was in an ambulance.

Makes sense; she had heard someone call for an ambulance before she passed out.

And then, she looks up.

Oh.

...Oh.

No.

No, No, No.

Watchers, this can't be happening right now.

A man with blonde hair and a green jacket stood in front of her, leaning on the wall with a cigarette in his hand. This man had six very recognizable arms and long antennae splaying from the top of his head, dangling above his bright blue eyes. Next to him, a shorter male with piercing brown eyes fidgeted with the tip of an angular tail stretching out from his back.

"Ah, Gem! Glad you're back with us!"

Chapter Text

"What- How did I get here?" Gem gasped, vision doubling as her head pounded painfully. The lights stabbed at her eyes, and the persistent rocking only made everything so much worse.

The Scorpion giggles. Giggles. "Oh y'know. We heard about your little curfuffle with Pearl an hour ago. Social media truly does wonders. Anyway, we hit the Heroes up and-"

Assassin Bug slaps The Scorpion. "No. We don't tell Gem that."

"Okay, okay, gosh, you're annoying." The Scorpion rolls his eyes before focusing on Gem once more. "I saw what you did to Pearl. Impressive, honestly. I really thought Pearl could hold her ground a lot better."

Gem attempts to sit up, but a strong wave of nausea and a stab of pain in her elbow makes her lie right back down. The Assassin Bug holds his cigarette in one of his five other hands as he grabs something off a table, flicking a plastic syringe a few times. "You don't look so good, man." The blonde looks over at The Scorpion, nodding towards Gem before speaking. "Did anything happen to her? I don't think Scott wants her dead just yet."

The Scorpion shrugs, "How am I supposed to know? I just saw Pearl die, and I asked Jimmy to drive an ambulance to the theatre. I think she hit her head or something. There's like a massive gash on her forehead."

"No shit!" The Assassin Bug laughs, taking one more smoking puff before putting the cigarette out on The Scorpion's tail. The Scorpion yelps, fists clenching before forcefully shoving the other towards Gem. She tries to shuffle back, but her body feels too heavy to move.

Jimmy was in on this? Maybe Gem made fun of him a little bit, but she thought that Jimmy would forget about it later. It makes sense, though. The phoenix gets more money by helping out the Corrupteds, so why wouldn't he?

"Can you blooming sedate her already?! If she hits her head one more time, then Scott will have our heads," he hisses, "Plus, we can get Scott to check up on her. He used to work as a nurse, right?"

The Assassin Bug sighs dramatically. "You're so cruel to me, Joel. Fine. We'll get Scott to do the dirty work. I don't know a single fuck about anything medical either way."

He turns to Gem, holding her down before she can consider wriggling free. "Goodnight--" A voice calls from an intercom, cutting The Assassin Bug off.

"Hey, uh, Martyn? We're kind of already here. You can put the sedatives down." Jimmy says, the ambulance comes to a halt as he ends his sentence.

The Scorpion and Assassin Bug groan at the same time. The Scorpion grabs the syringe from the other's idle hand and injects it into Gem with an innocent whistle.

Gem would probably have some sort of reaction, but her brain was already too foggy to process what was even happening. Any exclamation dies on her tongue as she slides under a thick blanket of darkness.

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

The next time Gem wakes up, she's being thrown against a stone wall, legs bound to her thighs and right arm in a homemade splint. A blinding flame of light harasses her foggy vision as a bright-winged man comes into view.

Jimmy. He has a grimace on his face, standing flush against the far wall. Next to him, The Tiger Moth dusts off his hands. "Right. You know the drill, Jimmy. You take the first shift, and then I'll either get Ren or Lizzie in here after three hours, alright? Don't be afraid to tell me if you get tired earlier than that."

"Yes. Okay. I can do that." Jimmy nods, his tail of embers sweeping across the cold floors. Then, both of them leave the room, Jimmy noticeably stopping outside the steel doors while The Moth trails out of sight.

Gem lay on the ground for a while, trying to observe her surroundings through the aching pain rippling across her body. It resembles a basement or vault, given the door. A small lightbulb flickers in the corner.

She decides to get up, using her good hand to push her body up.

Then, Gem's vision blurs. Her head throbs, and saliva coats her mouth as she chokes on chalky, acidic bile. She spits, wiping her mouth and shuffling as far away from her bodily fluids as she can manage.

A headache is weaving its way through Gem's temples and behind her eyes, strong and smothering. 

It's fine. It's fine. She'll make it out. Gem's wings flutter, reminding her of her surroundings.

She needs to start making plans.

But she's tired.

Abnormally tired.

Gem leans against the wall, staring blankly up at the dank ceiling.

It's fine.

Scar and Grian are on their way.

They will save her.

She just needs to rest for now.

Gem closes her eyes, waiting for sleep to consume her, but the beast of fatigue never comes. Instead, a ring of a familiar voice comes from the room, loud and clear.

"Gem?"

She snaps her head up so fast that the world spins in slow motion for a full minute. Gem waits for the double-vision to subside before looking up at the figure before her.

It's her.

Pearl. Not The Wolf, not The Scarlet Witch, just Pearl.

She sits criss-cross in front of her, a smile on her face. Her ears perk up from her head, the same midnight hoodie adorning her body. Over her heart, a hole gaped into Pearl's chest, nothing but flesh where her heart should be. Blood drips onto the ground.

"Pearl?" Gem croaks, cringing at the sound of her voice.

Pearl ignores her. "Why did you do it?"

An overwhelming memory of the previous events flashes through Gem's head. Her eyes widen. How could she have forgotten in the first place? "No. I didn't mean it. I-- Pearl, is that really you?"

"You killed me."

"You- You attacked me first! You'd still be alive if you just... Didn't join them." Gem mutters, staring at the wolf Reborn in front of her.

Pearl laughs, "Didn't join them? You could have helped me. You didn't. Turns out you care about your stupid roommate more than your girlfriend."

Gem shakes her head, shrinking back. "Pearl. It isn't like that. You know it."

"Remember our first date? At the beach. You remember. We had your favourite snacks and my favourite drinks, and we made castles in the sand." Pearl says blankly, staring into Gem's soul with a placid smile. "You wrote a heart around our names in the sand, right in front of the tide. I told you to move it higher, away from the rushing waves. You said no because 'everything washes away eventually.' I didn’t believe you. Turns out? You were right."

"Pearl-- That was the past. Please." Then, softly, so quiet that Gem can barely even hear what she's saying herself. " I missed you. "

Pearl's face drops, suddenly blank and distant, mouth agape as she stares past Gem's head. "Then why did you do it? Why did you do it, Gem? Why did you do it? Why. Did. You. Do. It? " she repeats, rocking slightly.

Gem covers her ears, gritting her teeth as her headache flares painfully. "Go away. Stop it. Stop staring at me already."

When she looks up, Pearl is gone.

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

The door creaks open after two days. Maybe one. It could have only been a few minutes.

"Hey, Gem?" A soft voice chimes, light clawing at her head as Lizzie slips into the room.

Gem slowly tilts her head up from the spot in the corner she'd chosen to try to sleep in. The pink-haired woman is holding a plate with a fork and eggs on it. "Good morning. You need to eat now."

"No. Not hungry. Waiting for Pearl." Gem shakes her head, refusing to lock eyes with Lizzie.

Lizzie's jaw clenches. "You killed Pearl."

Gem twitches, a throb worming its way back into her head. Her ears ring like a tuning fork struck too hard. "I didn't kill anyone. She killed herself. It's her fault." Lizzie opens her mouth to say something, but Gem keeps going. "She attacked me first. It's her fault. Not mine... It's not my fault . Please tell me it's not my fault."

"I'll get you some water. Eat, please." Lizzie says softly, sitting as far as she could get from Gem but still in the room.

Gem tries to pick up the fork, but it seems that over the short amount of time she hadn't eaten, she'd forgotten how to hold it. Gem fumbles with the metal utensil before dropping it. She stares blankly at the plate before turning away. "I'll eat it later. Not hungry. Can I have water?"

Lizzie nods, getting up and leaving the stone enclosure. She comes back later with bottled water. "Here you go, Gem. If you need anything, just yell out, okay? I'll be here for a few more minutes."

"Okay," Gem says, waiting for Lizzie to leave. Gem sighs in relief when she does.

Talking felt like too much effort, recently. Her tongue felt too big and heavy for her mouth, and on multiple occasions has she considered ripping the muscle from her mouth.

Then, the voice comes back. Gem's eyes flick to Pearl.

Her eyes are missing. Bubbling holes meet Gem's gaze, blood pouring out of her eye sockets.

"Hello again, Gem."

Gem barely processes the words, sloshing the sentence around in her mind. It felt like her brain was rejecting thoughts, drowning in some way. "Pearl, what happened?"

Pearl smiles, blood seeping into her mouth and dripping down her chin. "You told me you didn't want me staring at you anymore, don't you remember?"

"Why-- Why are you back?" Gem asks, focusing on the loud ringing echoing in her head in an attempt to ignore Pearl's lack of eyes.

"You said you missed me, so I came back. You said you loved me. Turns out that wasn't true, huh?" Pearl snarks, cocking her head to the side with the same grin from before.

"I changed my mind. Go away!" Gem yells, an explosion of sudden anger tangling in her chest as a thick slur slips into her voice. She tries to use her right hand to cover her face, but a single bend at the elbow sends pain ricocheting through her body.

Pearl sneers. "What? Too scared? What happened to the brave woman I loved? Oh, right! " She claps her hands together. Weirdly, no sound is produced by her hands. "You abandoned me. You threw me to the wolves. Ironic, isn't it?"

"Shut up!" Gem screams, throwing her water bottle at Pearl before buckling over, heaving tiredly over such a minuscule task. 

Pearl disappears before it can hit her face. The bottle flies across the room, smashing into the wall and exploding.

Gem doesn't react to the noise for a few moments. As she stares at the water seeping across the floor, the sound finally registers in her brain. Gem reels back with so much momentum that she slams into the wall behind her.

For some reason, Gem turns around and slams her fist at the wall, in anger, or confusion, or desperation.

She hears a crack, and pulls back, glancing at her knuckles.

The pain made her feel a little better. More awake. More aware.

Gem could escape . That's how she felt anyway. The pain brought little drops of clarity into her mind.

She could work with this.

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

Static. That's what she could comprehend at the moment. A static filling gaps of silence as Gem pulled at the pokey ropes on her legs.

Gem looks up. Another plate of food is sitting at the doorway of the basement. The bottle she had thrown was gone, but the water still pools in the cracks on the floor. She didn't remember when someone came in.

Gem flutters her wings in an attempt to fly forward. It took a while for her to realize she wasn't moving at all.

Using her left hand, Gem slowly pulls herself towards the plate at the door, and takes even longer to bring the plate back to her corner.

Hunger bit at her stomach, but Gem would pick up something on the plate, and the feeling would fade. Then, she'd put the food back down, and it'd come back with full force.

The plate. What was on the plate? She couldn't remember.

Gem glances down. The plate had orange slices with little white parts of membrane on it. It didn't seem like a lot of anything.

When she tried to count the slices, she'd forgotten what came after six.

Pearl hadn't come back. Or maybe she did. Nothing made sense anymore. Gem's thoughts kept skipping around from one thing to another, like a shattered record that only played vague crackling noises.

The static starts filling her head again. Gem desperately needs something to ground her before she mentally drifts off again.

Gem reaches for the fork and forces her fingers to clamp around the handle. Then she strikes the prongs at the wall, slowly scraping down.

Gem drops the thing immediately, the noise the loudest sound she's heard in what felt like ages.

The fork seems to have left marks on the wall.

Gem sluggishly examines the silver mark on the wall and decides to draw something. Pearl was always good at drawing.

A circle, and then a line down from that. A line on that line. Then an upside-down 'v' underthe first line.

She gives the figure a smiling face.

It's ugly. It makes her want to cry.

Gem feels a bubble of irrational laughter erupt from her throat. She starts laughing, almost maniacally, as she repeatedly jabs the fork at the face of the figure.

She stabs, and stabs, and stabs until her wrist hurts and Gem can no longer hold the utensil.

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

Nothing felt exactly real anymore, after maybe three days.

Gem stared at the lightbulb in the corner until her eyes burned and tears filled her eyes. She sang broken melodies in her head, sometimes out loud. She screamed until her throat tore or someone came into the room to check on her. If they did, they never said anything. Just stared at her and left.

Eventually, Gem reached the lightbulb in the corner and shattered it. Gem doesn't remember how. She just knew that it disappeared.

There were people in the corners, they'd sing with her and repeat her name over and over and over. They all had Gem's voice. Even then, she still forgot what she sounded like every once and a while.

Gem was starting to miss Pearl. At least Pearl would say something. She hadn't come back since Gem had thrown a water bottle at her. Gem laughs dryly.

She'd decided that maybe she should just die. Alone and pitifully like Pearl did. Gem would sometimes think of escape, and then forget about any plan she'd set. She started scratching words into her thighs, trying to read them in pitch darkness. It never worked.

Sometimes, it felt like Gem was fading. Barely clinging onto consciousness. Even then, she was scared to die; she wanted to go, but it felt strange and foreign. At times when Gem couldn't remember her name or feel anything that wasn't numbness, she'd stab something with the utensils she'd collected from meals that were left untouched. Sometimes, it was the wall, sometimes it was the ground, sometimes it was herself. 

Gem didn't want to hurt, but the pain brought a wave of clarity, which gave her hope to continue on. The pain grounded her.

Sometimes, a bit of light would seep from under the doorway, and Gem would drag herself towards it and stare like it was a lifeline. Right now was one of those times.

The splint on her right arm had already cut off the circulation of her fingers a long time ago. She couldn't move anything below her shoulder. In the light, Gem could see her hand, disfigured and limp.

A voice cuts through the darkness. 

It wasn't a voice, actually. It was more of a gurgle.

Gem turns around and sees Pearl.

Pearl was disfigured. Her eyes were still missing, blood still pouring. Except right now her teeth were gone, tongue severed, and nowhere to be seen. Her mouth moves, but the only thing that comes out is a broken noise and blood.

A lot of blood.

Gem doesn't say anything; she can't bring herself to. She only stares at the pool of red inching towards her legs.

Pearl is repeating the same string of noises, Gem decides after what felt like an hour. She looks at her mouth, trying to see past the waterfall of blood to read Pearl's lips.

No one is coming to save you.

Gem only nods, agreeing quietly.

She stares at Pearl's gums, watches the stub of a tongue move around, watches blood pool in her mouth until Gem can't stand it anymore.

Gem tries to move away, but her body doesn't listen, instead acting like a stranger.

Clearly, this stranger had already given up on her.

The light from the door suddenly gets brighter, and it swings open.

Gem turns around and faces a woman.

"Lizzie...?" Gem whispers with a tremble. "You should go. Pearl is here."

Lizzie shakes her head. "She died, remember?"

"Oh." Gem looks back at Pearl. 

She's gone, including the blood.

"Are you hungry? I-" Lizzie pauses, squinting at Gem. "Hey, one of your pupils is--"

Then she stops speaking entirely. Gem only blinks slowly. It felt like everything was crumbling around her. No matter how hard she tried, no matter how many supports she tried to build, everything came collapsing down.

Lizzie glances behind her. "I should get a doctor. I need to get someone."

Gem musters to shake her head. "No. He will only make it worse."

"At least eat something, Gem." The pink-haired woman says quietly.

She doesn't feel very hungry, but also starved for anything edible at the same time. "Okay."

Lizzie leaves and plunges Gem into darkness again.

She was having trouble remembering that Lizzie had come in at all, honestly.

Lizzie eventually returns with some meat, a fork, and a knife.

She kneels next to Gem. "I'll cut it for you alright? Just swallow it and I'll leave."

Lizzie does just that, cutting meat into little bits and holding it to Gem's mouth like a toddler. 

Gem hates it. She wants to grab the knife and stab it into Lizzie's face for even thinking about trying to manipulate her, because that must be what this is, right?

No one who works for the Government are genuinely good people anymore.

Gem still eats the pieces of meat anyway.

Eventually, there is nothing left on the plate. Lizzie doesn't leave right away, she stands at the doorway with the door open, waiting for Gem to tell her off.

Instead, Gem speaks to her. "Lizzie."

"Yes?" She answers instantly, head turning towards Gem.

"I think I want to go home. I think there's someone waiting for me there."

Lizzie stays silent, chewing on her nails. She glances around the dark room before taking a deep breath and telling Gem something.

Something that hammers the nail in the coffin.

"There's no home for you to return to anymore, Gem. We made sure of it."

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

Gem refused to speak after that. Even so, every time she tried, it felt like someone was muffling her.

Lizzie never came back.

Nothing felt worthy of trying anymore. She felt like she was dying.

Maybe it was what she deserved. Would Xelqua leave her to die like this if she didn't deserve it?

Lizzie left the empty plate and knife in the room. She'd taken the fork. All of her forks.

Maybe Lizzie wanted her to die, too. Why would she leave a knife if she didn't?

Gem had recently started cutting her wings to shreds. It hurt. Sharp, quick, easy. Less force went into it overall. Her body barely responded. It scared her. She kept going to make sure she was still alive.

But Gem wasn't sure if she was still alive.

She waited for death because Gem refused to die from bleeding, and hunger would devour her eventually anyway.

Weirdly, Gem never died.

She just disappeared.

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

The door opened, light pouring into the room for the first time in what had to be ages.

It wasn't Lizzie this time.

In fact, it wasn't even one person.

It was two.

Chapter Text

"Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voice message system. Gem Tay is not available to pick up the phone. At the tone, please record your message."

"Hey, Gem. It's me, Scar. Grian is here, too... Not here but in the same room. Uh, we're not sure where you're at. If you could, like, tell me you're okay, I'd really appreciate it." Scar speaks into the phone, laughing dryly before hanging up.

Scar may or may not have been spiraling for the past few days. Grian is probably sick of him pacing the kitchen at the late hours of the night.

Watchers, he knew he shouldn't have trusted the ambulance; it never brings anything other than chaos. Scar presses the heel of his palms to his forehead.

Think. Just think, dammit.

He rummaged his brain for some sort of identifying factor from yesterday: a license plate, a face, hell, even a voice would bring Scar some sort of closure.

Even then, he came up with nothing.

Scar picks up his phone to be greeted with thousands of notifications. Ever since he'd stabbed The Wolf, Scar had been receiving an endless stream of notifications. Hell, he was even getting fan art. Scar should probably be happy about the fact, but every stylized version of himself that Scar stares at only reminds him that Gem and Grian were a significant part of his feat. -- Scar had done almost nothing on his own.

Another notification rings at the top of his screen, and Scar lets a sliver of hope worm its way into his ribs. Finally, something that wasn't from Twitter. He taps on the bubble and hastily reads the message.

Hey, I wanted to remind you that rent is due in a few days. Thanks for being prompt with your previous payments!

He slams his phone down onto the table with too much force and cringes when a Snap! rings through the air. Scar glances at his phone to see a splintering crack webbing across his screen, similar to a strike of lightning.

He stares blankly at his homescreen for a few minutes before a strangled sob rips its way through his throat.

Scar shocks himself with the noise and slowly puts the device down, staring down at the table.

It's strange, he thinks as Scar bites his tongue to prevent any uninvited feelings from bubbling to the surface. He doesn't feel anything at the moment. Not enough of anything to even feel like crying at all.

Grian notices, though. He always notices something. The wasp, who was originally lying on the couch, hastily walks over with a concerned look on his face. "Whoa, Scar? Are you okay?"

"Fine." Scar mutters, focusing on whatever inanimate object he could and begging his mind to let him dissociate; to melt into the beige painted walls and rot into the front door mat like discarded roadkill.

The shorter takes Scar's hand, rubbing his thumb up and down Scar's. "Hey, hey. You with me? Stay with me now."

Scar could easily respond; in fact, he felt hyper-aware of every molecule and atom that built up his own muscles. He chooses to ignore Grian, though. Because if he doesn't respond, Grian will leave him alone -- give him time to tear this weird feeling out of his skull and bounce back to that enthusiastic raven Grian initially fell in love with.

"Scar-"

Scar sharply inhales, flinching away from Grian. "Stop. Please stop."

Grian drops his hand. He already yearns for the contact to return, despite rejecting it in the first place. "Oh, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. I just- I need-... Give me a second." Scar mumbles passively. He tries to poke at the part of his brain that stays joyful in the face of any obstacle. It doesn't respond. "Sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me. I'll stop mopeing around sooner or later. Just- Don't leave... Or, do if you want. It's kinda up to you."

Despite spitting absolute nonsense into Grian's face, he somehow doesn't leave or look disgusted in any way. "...I get it. We all have moments like that. If it's about Gem, I can get her back for you. I swear, I'll do it."

Scar shudders as tears start pricking at his eyes. It's all his fault, isn't it? If he'd just sucked it up and not nagged Gem about his own issues and problems, then none of this would have happened.

"It's gonna be okay. I'm here with you." Grian says softly, purple-ringed irises shimmering as Grian pulls a chair out from the table for himself.

Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't-

He cringes at himself when Scar's body starts shaking, and tears start dripping out of his eyes. Scar leans against the table, heels of his palms covering his face. "Watchers, I-"

It's all so silly. What is he even crying over at this point? Crying from Gem being gone? Crying from Grian not immediately ditching him? Crying from the pressure of it all? He lets out another breathy laugh.

Slowly, a hand drifts over Scar's back, trailing down to inky feathers, "...You... Want a hug?" Grian asks softly, barely audible.

Scar doesn't respond for a few moments, but he already knows what his answer would be regardless. "Please."

Grian leans forward, reaches around Scar's frame, and slowly slots his hands under Scar's wings. For some reason, Scar freezes up, sitting awkwardly like a schoolgirl on her first date. His brain slowly kicks in, though, and he chokes on a thankful sob before respirocating the action, his arms wrapping around Grian's waist.

Scar was noticeably taller than Grian, and maybe it would be a bit uncomfortable, but he still cranes his neck forward to rest his face on Grian's shoulder. For a while, they sit there silently, Grian not saying a word as Scar tries to take deep breaths through heaving gasps and flowing tears.

Grian winces, and Scar finally notices that he was crushing Grian's wings. Scar tries to pull away, muttering a 'sorry' before Grian yanks him back.

"No." Grian pouts, tugging on the sleeve of Scar's shirt, "Stay. My wings can heal, but you..." he stops, cutting himself off with a hum. "...Never mind. It's fine."

Scar sighs contentedly, putting his chin atop Grian's head and into his soft, dirty-blonde curls. He makes a point of avoiding Grian's wings this time, instead drumming his fingers on the shorter's shoulder blades. "Thanks."

Before it gets too quiet and he starts overthinking again, Scar softly pushes Grian away. Grian has a cute little smile on his face that could've made him feel better instantly.

"You feel a lil' better? Once again, I am happy to go get Gem myself." Grian asks, a hint of something in his eye.

"Yeah. I do feel better. I think I can try to find Gem, but I'd love for you to come with me!" Scar says with a toothy grin.

Inside, he feels overwhelmingly numb, as if his heart has dipped into the Arctic Ocean. Scar had mostly gotten it together, though. Maybe it'll be enough to get Grian to stop worrying, or whatever he's doing. 

It's not that hard; all Scar has to do is smile, smile, smile, and everyone'll think it's alright. Gem will come back, and then it will be truly alright. He thinks, staring into Grian's eyes.

Grian laughs. Despite the grim reality of the situation, he laughs. "Of course, Scar. Call my name, and I'll follow you practically anywhere." He jokes, propping his hands on his hips.

Scar hums. His brain aches for Gem; she'd know what to say, because honestly? He's coming up dry. 

Usually, he'd respond with a funny remark, and then Grian would laugh and leave Scar alone to plan something out. Scar glances at Grian's lips, curved up in a beautiful smile, soft, despite no chapstick being in sight.

He could use something sweet in his life right now. "How about a 'last kiss before it all goes to hell'?"

Grian giggles, "Oh, Scar..." Then, he leans forward and their lips connect for a second time.

Scar's hands land on Grian's hips, kissing back immediately. Grian's hands hook around Scar's neck and pull him down to meet each other at Grian's level.

Grian's lips really are as soft as they look, Scar thinks, absent-mindedly licking into the shorter's mouth. He'll have to ask Grian about it later.

Scar realizes that he's borderline making out with Grian after the wasp makes a noise of surprise. He's about to murmur some sort of apology onto Grian's lips, but Grian only pulls Scar closer, bodies pressed flush against each other.

Grian tastes of a sunset, all sticky honey and boiling sugar with a hint of sorrow for the death of day; creamy chocolates and a gracious filling of salted caramel. It's an addictive flavor that'll leave Scar thinking about Grian for weeks. He wonders what Grian had eaten before this moment.

As Scar slowly walks to and presses Grian against a wall, he can't help but feel a pang of guilt echo through his chest -- Scar's been talking about Gem to no end, basically ignoring Grian and whatever he wants to do for his roommate. A part of him screams that he's being an 'idiot once again, great job you!' or in other words, someone who can't even love right. But another part of him says otherwise, tells Scar that maybe even his special someone doesn't need all of his attention twenty-four-seven.

Either way, he still feels overwhelmingly bad about it. It's not like he'll ever tell anyone that, though

They pull apart with a sigh, Scar softly panting as he stares at a string of saliva connecting his and Grian's lips. Grian opens his mouth to say something, and Scar stops to listen to whatever's about to come out of the wasp's mouth, but Grian closes his mouth as soon as it opens, and Scar hastily gets off Grian, wiping his mouth.

"Welp, we should probably save Gem's ass now, or bring her back from whatever bar she's blacked out at." Scar jokes, mostly to reassure himself.

"Alright..." Grian walks off to a closet where he'd shoved his vigilante outfit away before sharply turning around. "Wait. Because people kind of already know who you are, are you still gonna wear the outfit? Because if not, then I'm not gonna take the time to put everything of this on."

Scar shakes his head. "Probably not. I'll just wear some muscle shirt to show off my amazing abs, of course, and then the glasses, because they're really neat!... Custom made, y'know?"

Grian laughs in response, and Scar gives him a tight-lipped smile, slipping into his room to grab the iridescent blue and orange glasses.

"Do you wear sunglasses in mourning?"

"It's so you can't see my tears!"

Scar snorts, putting the glasses on and adjusting to the sudden retro-like tint of the world around him.

He'll just have to see if that statement holds true.

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

Hotguy- No. He's not really HotGuy anymore.

Scar is flying through the air, wearing a muscle shirt he'd cut two holes through for his wings. Not far behind, Grian flies behind.

Grian is surprisingly wearing most of his disguise, including the top with the heart-shaped keyhole, blindfold, and Scar's secret favourite part of the outfit: the knee-high heels with bows and pink and purple hearts running down the sides. The wasp had mentioned he didn't really want to wear the blindfold, but still did anyway due to reasons which Scar supposes are fair enough.

The only part of his outfit Grian had ditched was the garters, instead opting for his usual sweatpants, which gave a nice casual touch instead of the 'oh watchers, a stripper hide the kids' vibes it normally gave off.

Scar sighs, "I don't even know where to go, or where to start, or like... Anything."

"Oh. I guess I could help with that, couldn't I?" Grian laughs, before going completely silent. Scar had to twist around in the air to make sure Grian was still there, and he was; he'd just gone completely silent.

Automatically, Scar assumes that he'd done something wrong, but he loses the apology when he sees a sparkle of purple near a building. It was strange because he doesn't really recall ever seeing something like that before.

It was like a signal, of some sort, a glitchy violet rhombus with a harsh strike slashed through it. "Whoa. What is that? Do you see that?"

"Yeah- No. I can't really. What is it?" he asks, voice quieter than usual.

Scar squints, "I don't really know myself? It looks like a glowing eye...? And- Oh. It's gone."

Grian giggles a little bit, but Scar doesn't pay much attention. Maybe it was some hint, or maybe he was going insane and needed to take a nap, or something like that. Either way, he dips down to fly towards it.

The wasp follows close behind, wings buzzing loudly as Scar hits the floor softly.

"I think I saw the thingy right here? Like, I might be wrong, but honestly, who knows at this point? Am I right?" Scar shrugs before nodding towards the building.

The building itself was not unlike an abandoned hospital: exceptionally rundown, with windows cracked and ivy crawling up the walls. If he really looks, he can see a yellow glow through the window on the first floor.

Grian jogs up to Scar. "I think there might be an entrance right there," he says, pointing near the corner of the building. A metal door, rusty and a bit spooky.

"Huh. I didn't even see that," muses Scar, slowly making his way to the door.

Suddenly, as Scar reaches for the handle, sirens blare behind the two. A Government car slides up on a barren road. Scar hadn't even realized the road was there.

Over the intercom, an energetic voice crackles. "Helllllloo! Just letting you know that you are currently committing various crimes for... First of all, being HotGuy and CuteGuy, and second of all, trespassing on private property! So, we'll have to arrest-ificate you if you don't leave in about five seconds."

"Tango." Scar grits through his teeth. Grian blinks in confusion before the car starts oozing this translucent pink slime. It's seeping out of every crevice: the gaps between doors, windows, and even the hood of the car were leaking this stuff.

Usually, Scar would be freaked out and very confused, but considering Tango was in that car...

"Grian, fly! Run! Get away from the car, because it's gonna blow!" Scar gasps out, grabbing Grian's arm and barely backing away in time as the shell of the car catches fire, then explodes.

A strong, hot, uncomfortable gust of wind rushes toward Scar's face as semi-melting metal shards fly from the heat of the fire, sliding to a stop at Scar and Grian's feet.

As the dust and fire quickly settle, a shimmering blue dome of stars is left in its wake, protecting whomever stood underneath it. They slowly spiral up, and then shift into a... Couch?

Tango is standing at the front of a hefty group of Reborns. His left hand is on his hip, showing off glowing orange and yellow glands on his bicep. "Woo! Haven't felt a thrill like that in a while! So glad the Government finally let me outside for once!" Tango laughs, brushing extra goop off his body.

Behind Tango, Bdubs, and Jimmy stand with a fighting stance. Bdubs has an amused grin on his face while Jimmy locks his eyes on Tango, ready to launch in case Tango abruptly explodes again. All three of the Corrupteds now sit on the couch made out of stars. The Moth and Assassin Bug sit on the further side of the couch, while The Scorpion unhappily wedges himself between the others, a bottle of cleaning detergent in his hand.

"Don't mind us!" The Assassin Bug sings, cigarette in one of his hands, "Just hanging around. Hope ya don't mind."

Grian makes a few confused noises, wiggling his fingers like they'd gone numb as he faces the new Reborns in surprise. "How did he just physically combust?! What?! Where's Pea-" He stops, glances towards Scar, and continues, "The Wolf? I mean, shouldn't she be here?"

The Scorpion cackles, taking a swig of his neon blue liquid. "Watchers, you fucked her up. She's like, hooked up to ten different tubes right now. Turns out even dead-bitches-brought-back-to-life can still die."

The Assassin Bug and Moth both shush The Scorpion at the same time, with The Scorpion rolling his eyes in response and relaxing into the back of the couch. "Never mind, I guess. Go bloomin' fight now or whatever."

No one moves.

Scar flutters his wings, reaching for an arrow as he waits for someone to take a step, or brace their swords, or start breakdancing. Who knows?! Someone needs to do something.

It gets so awkward that Jimmy, the most passive one of the group, starts violently clearing his throat and flicking his tail onto a smirking Bdubs, who was playing with a... Broken pocket watch?

Bdubs yelps when the phoenix's flaming tail grazes his skin. "What did I do?!" He screams, tucking the clock away and blowing a raspberry at Jimmy.

"Nothing, that's the problem! We talked about this." Jimmy hisses, frantically gesturing towards Scar and Grian.

"Talked about what?!" Bdubs yells back, looking like he was about to make fist meet face.

Tango sighs. "Give us a second, strange vigilantes of the darkness. We need to reformulate our plan." Then, he turns towards Bdubs and very loudly whispers, "Go spikey-kick them, dummy! You've been so attached to that damn clock in the past few hours for no reason!"

"Huh? Oh! Okay!" Bdubs says loudly, head snapping towards the duo, and then he vanishes.

No, he didn't vanish. Scar realizes a few seconds too late that he'd just run a little less than half a mile in a split second.

Bdubs unblurs directly in front of Grian's face, and while the katydid stands much shorter than anyone Scar knows, he still lands a devastating kick to Grian's head, fast and clean.

His shin meets Grian's skull with a sickening Crack! that Scar could practically feel himself. Bdubs whoops as spines protrude out of a darkened exoskeleton across every one of his limbs.

Grian reacts quickly, reaching over his back to grab the double-bladed spear Grian had bought from The Moth weeks ago. He swings at Bdubs' arm, but instead of blood, a spray of sparks fly into the air.

"Ooh!" Bdubs cheers, "I'm loving this skeleton of mine more and more each day." he barely lets himself finish his sentence before trying to send another kick to Grian's head. Grian grabs his arm with a surprisingly strong grip, and Bdubs squeals. "Oi!? A little help here, someone?!"

No one comes to help him, which makes Scar laugh a bit, but not for long before drawing his bow and firing it towards Bdubs' chest. It pokes a hole through his shirt, but bounces off otherwise. "Owie!" Bdubs exclaims, wriggling around.

For a second, it seems like the fight was coming to an end, as the Corrupteds stare amusedly and the rest of the Heroes are... Gone?

Bdubs seems to remember that he has spines, and a few sharper ones eject from the ankle Grian has in his grip. Grian winces, ripping his palm off the sharp spines as blood sprays and drips to the ground.

Bdubs falls onto his back when Grian pulls away. He scowls, a flicker of what seems to be a smirk flying past the sour expression as he glances behind Scar. Then, the katydid focuses his attention back onto Grian, and Bdubs' legs lock around Grian's hips.

Immediately, Grian's weapon comes up and starts trying to stab underneath Bdubs' exoskeleton, but swiftly, quickly, and frankly impressive for a man like him, Bdubs performs a somersault, slamming Grian to the ground while efficiently getting back onto his feet at the same time. Grian stabs Bdubs in the foot and he yelps and leaps back.

Scar would have laughed if it were in a LIFE game. Currently, it was not a LIFE game, so watching his significant other get beaten up isn't exactly funny. Scar snaps out of his daze and pulls another arrow.

Just as he's about to let go, a weight grabs him by the shoulders and carries him off into the sky, bow and the arrow in his hand clattering to the ground. Grian's head snaps up, and his free hand goes to his gun holster before Scar has lost view of Grian, as he's suddenly been flipped around.

Jimmy. It was Jimmy. Surprisingly. The phoenix's expression was blank but determined; jaw set, staring blankly off into the distance like he couldn't bear thinking about fighting anyone for too long.

He wasn't a large threat by himself -- not too good fighting skills and horrid hand-eye coordination. However, Jimmy had one thing that put him into the position of a hero: the bright, scorching wings that adorned his back like molten glass.

Those wings, like Tango, could alight anything in its path. Less dangerous and more reliable, but still a scary thing to face. A singular hug from Jimmy could give Scar third-degree burns.

So, when Jimmy lets go of Scar in the air and lunges forward, Scar takes the initiated fight as seriously as any other.

Scar no longer has his trump card; his bow, which still sat on the cold concrete. Instead, he does a mental check of his pockets: arrows, potions, and one of Gem's small blades, to bring him some kind of courage. Scar has to quickly realise that most of these objects would come to waste in aerial combat, and he already has the disadvantage in the fight.

However, just like how one could still win a chess game without the Queen, Scar could surely beat Jimmy without a proper setup.

Scar goes for Jimmy's nose, winding a punch into it. It collides. Jimmy steps back; the air around them warms uncomfortably.

Scar strikes again. It lands. Again, again, again.

It was weird because usually Jimmy would give more of a fight than this -- this had to be on purpose; there was no other way Jimmy would let himself be assaulted like this without any proper reason.

For a few seconds, Scar hesitates. In those few seconds, Jimmy rushes to Scar, and two hands lock around his throat. Scar blinks and struggles, but a sharp pain makes him stop.

He could have easily overtaken him in this moment if it wasn't for the burning wings slowly encompassing Scar, making it hard to even twitch or move a muscle.

Of course, how could Scar be so naive? Of course, Jimmy would put up more than a fight. It was a lure. Clever, sharp. The canary has to fly free eventually.

The edges of Scar's vision flicker away, a handful of gunshots ringing in the distance as Scar uselessly wriggles in Jimmy's grip.

Jimmy doesn't look at Scar. He closes his eyes and faces away as he wrangles all the air out of Scar's lungs. He regretted it.

But if he really regretted it that bad, then why even do all of this? Why fight for a horrible cause?

As Scar gasps for air, a certain katydid with a few more bullet holes in his shirt than memory recalls appears behind him and sends a pounding kick to Scar's head.

"Wha-" Scar chokes out, a little too late, as he slams into the hard concrete. Scar cringes at the snapping and sharp pains that reverberate through his wings as they soak up the force from the sudden drop.

Scar looks at Grian, taking a scan of his body in a quick check for injuries. The wasp was in handcuffs, blindfold forcefully ripped off. Other than the dried blood coating his palms and various holes littering his forearms, nothing seems too horrible.

Tango walks, practically skips over, large grin on his face as his hair lights aflame. "Hello again, friends! So, you've got two options now, ready to hear them?"

Scar and Grian nod in synchronization. Tango smiles impossibly wider. "Alright! Number one, you surrender, and we take you to Gem. Number two? You get arrested and probably executed. Latest tomorrow. I'd prefer if you didn't choose the latter. I actually consider you a great friend."

"Sure you do." Grian manages to snark, glaring up at Tango. Scar snickers.

Tango hums thoughtfully, "Well, have you chosen yet? I'm a busy man. I don't have all night."

Scar doesn't even think about it; anything to see Gem safe. "Surrender. We surrender." he sees Grian open and close his mouth in shock, but ignores it.

The Moth comes up behind Tango, the other Corrupteds still chatting on the star-couch. "You got them?" Tango nods, grin dropping almost immediately. "Lovely! I actually think I'd like to have some of that stuff on you, it's finely crafted stuff, it is."

Scar is slipped into handcuffs as The Moth views him like merchandise, whistling softly as he digs around in Scar's pockets and takes a few potions and Gem's pocket knife. Scar lurches forward in protest, but The Moth doesn't bat an eye.

He goes onto Grian next, eyes sparkling at an obsidian pendant hanging around his neck. "I've seen you wearing this thing a few times. I really like it. I think... I'll take it." he rips it off Grian's neck. Scar watches Grian's eyes follow the pendant religiously. The Moth walks behind Grian.

"Now that I think about it, this doesn't really fit a little jewel wasp like you, does it? Rubies and amethyst would fit you better. Y'know-" The Moth cuts himself off as he holds the pendant up to Grian's face, the moonlight shining through it. "Wait a minute..."

The Moth instantly straightens up and squints at the inky rock. Scar has always wondered about the purple accents that sparkle through it, but never anything more. He wonders what The Moth notices, and bites his cheek to keep from speaking.

Grian's eyes fly wide open. "Give that back," he hisses, head snapping around, face to face with The Moth.

The Moth makes a few amused noises as he moves the pendant to Grian's scowling face to the moon. "Really?!" The Moth says, almost in a state of awe, "Oh, Scar, you don't know how much more interesting this just got!"

Grian's eyes are locked on the obsidian, eyebrows furrowed, and then, the purple accents on the obsidian start moving; gliding towards the middle of the rock till it's an orb of glowing energy. Then, with a large spark of eerily familiar purple, the obsidian implodes on itself, pieces of it scattering across the pavement.

Scar bites his lip. What the hell was that? What did The Moth notice? Why was Grian so protective, and why does Scar feel like he's missing something painfully obvious? "...What was that, Grian?"

"Topic for another time." Grian shrugs, staring at a large fragment that lay in front of him.

The Moth cackles, "Oh, you! We have so much to talk about, now. Come on, into the building." he gestures to Jimmy, who doesn't meet his eyes. The phoenix visibly gulps. 

"Yes, sir."

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

Scar and Grian are being led down a set of stairs. Scar mumbles and mutters random topics to fill the otherwise uncomfortable air as Grian stares silently at the ground below his feet.

A door like a bank vault stands in front of the two, small but intimidating.

The door is unlocked, and Scar audibly gasps as he sees the sight in front of him.

There, in the room, was a girl with red hair and thin dragonfly wings. Blood, cuts, and scrapes covered her thighs, and her wings were torn to shreds. She stares unresponsively at the door, eyes unfocused and one pupil larger than another.

That girl was the person Scar had been looking for in the past week, the brave warrior who could take any problem head-on.

That girl was Gem Tay.

Chapter Text

"...Gem?" Scar whispers, staring down at the limp body in front of him. She doesn't respond, eyes glassy and staring past the basement walls. Behind Scar, Jimmy and The Moth simultaneously gag. "What did you do?"

The Moth sounds just as surprised as Scar. "I actually don't really know. I wasn't watching her, so."

"Not watching her? Isn't that your only job as a kidnapper? That is genuinely bare minimum, and you can't even do that." Scar mutters, fists clenching as he walks towards Gem. He kneels down, inspecting her. A lazy sling-cast thing was tied onto Gem's arm, one pupil a different size than the other, and most frighteningly, the slits and stabs covering Gem's thighs and wings.

"Isn't your only job to become a Corrupted and join us? Sure, being drowned in electric purple acid is horrific, but you straight up and left! Abandoned us! Didn't even try, did you?--" The Moth inhales to spout some more bullshit in Scar's face, but gets promptly dragged off by Jimmy, who wears an apologetic expression on his face.

" We'll be back in a second." He mouths, not meeting Scar's gaze and closing the door with a thunk.

As soon as the door shuts, Scar turns to face Grian. "So, do you have anything you need to... tell me?" He asks tentatively, voice quiet.

"Ah," Grian hesitates, "It's a discussion for another day, okay, Scar? Nothing against you. It's a personal thing."

Scar clenches his jaw. There's more, he knows there's more. There's always more, but Scar just needs to find out what 'more' is first. He can practically grab the malleable formation of 'more', but every time Scar tries, it gets pulled away like a fish teased with the promise of bait.

He shakes his head and turns to Gem. "Hey. Gem. Gem. C'mon, now. Gem..." He waves his hand in front of Gem's face, and she groans.

His fingers twitch. Gem's alive, but dammit, why doesn't he fucking care?

Whatever. It doesn't matter. Smile, just smile.

"Gem!" Scar exclaims, face breaking into a relieved grin. He puts his hands on her shoulders, "Oh my Watchers, I'm so glad you're alive. I thought you were dead. I thought I lost you. I just-" He takes a shaky breath as Gem blinks a few times in response. "Tell me what happened. Please. We can take it slow."

Grian crouches next to Gem, eyes expressionless as he says. "Scar's been looking for you." Grian sharply exhales, staring at Gem like roadkill. "It's really funny, you two are inseparable, soulmates, really," he jokes, or at least that's what Scar thinks Grian is doing.

Scar clears his throat. Not the time, Grian.

Grian seems to get the hint, as he quickly looks away, filling the air with tension once more.

It's quiet, too quiet. If he focuses, he can hear the racket of his organs. Grian picks at his stinger, busying himself with reading the carved text on the walls.

Scar decides to look at the walls as well. Most of the scribbles were illegible, except for a handful of text. A shaky script that read, 'Gem is great,' is the most notable one. Other things Scar could make out included a dozen smiley faces, the word 'bleeding' near the floor, and scrapes of what seemed to be two stick figures; one with overalls and another with wolf ears.

Then, in a strained, hoarse voice. "Scar, Grian?"

Scar turns his head right away, and Grian follows his gaze shortly after. Gem has moved slightly, looking up at Scar with tired eyes. "I think I want to go home. Can we go home?"

"Me too," Grian mutters, sighing and leaning against the concrete walls.

Scar glares at Grian. "Gosh, what has gotten into you?" He hisses, cocking his head to the side. Grian doesn't meet his gaze. He takes this opportunity to talk to Gem. "Yeah, we're gonna get home soon, alright? Don't worry."

Gem is silent for a few beats, and Scar almost immediately assumes that Gem's done talking. However, she eventually pipes up. "Pearl- Wait, no. Lizzie? I..." she mumbles, staring through Scar, "Do we still even have a home?"

"...Well, of course!" His plastic enthusiasm cracks, words getting caught in his throat as he tries to wheeze out "home is where the heart is."

Is home still in the gaping hole of his one's chest if the past has already ripped the heart out?

Nope. No time for those thoughts.

“Scar,” Grian says hesitantly, eyes flicking across the mess of walls around them.

“What?”

Grian shifts uncomfortably. “You love me, right?”

Scar ignores the question, shooting back immediately, “Do you love me? I thought I could trust you enough to not keep, oh, I don’t know, huge secrets from me.”

The other flinches, opens and closes his mouth a few times, before softly scoffing and turning away once more.

No one talks for a very long time. Maybe one or two hours had passed.

Scar spent those hours thinking. Thinking about Gem, thinking about his family, but most importantly, thinking about Grian.

The drastic turn in Scar’s life when Grian came into it, the yearn for Grian’s lips vanishing so suddenly after officially getting together, that it gave him whiplash. It just didn’t make sense. Maybe Grian was just getting more comfortable; maybe jabbing painfully at Scar’s emotions was simply a normal thing for Grian. Scar supposes that the outcome wasn’t too bad.

And yet, something about stray midnight purple feathers that didn’t belong to Scar and glowing symbols just didn’t feel right to him.

He was missing something.

Just as his brain makes the tiniest connection to Grian’s favourite shade of purple – it has to be a coincidence that Grian likes the same electric purple , the vault door swings open once more. The Scorpion strolls in with a leather bag and a manic expression on his face. It quickly fades when his eyes land on Gem. “Oh, ew. What the heck.”

Scar bites back a spurt of anger as The Scorpion waves off Gem’s injuries like she was nothing more than dust, and not a significant reason why he’d won his season in the first place. “ Anyway, ehm, Scott is having a freakout right now, so I had to come replace him. I’m not complaining, though, ‘cause like an hour ago, I got told something really damn interesting.”

Another chance! “...What did you get told?” Scar asks, staring at The Scorpion like it would somehow give him a coherent answer.

Grian bristles as The Scorpion nonchalantly says, “Oh, I dunno, maybe I should just show ya. Yeah, I’m just gonna show you.”

The Scorpion proceeds to take out a chunk of Grian’s obsidian pendant and pop it in his mouth. Scar mentally prays for his teeth as a sharp Crunch! echoes through the air. It even gets a wince out of Gem.

Grian’s blank expression goes from confusion to laughter in about five seconds. The look on his face is beautiful, and Scar would be ogling over him about now if it weren’t for their current situation.

The Scorpion sees all of their expressions and waves his hands around. “Hey, no! This is–” Crunch. “Very related. You’ll see in a second. Just–” Crunch.

Scar watches in amusement as The Scorpion swallows and coughs so violently that Scar half expects The Scorpion’s eye to detach from his head entirely. “Okay. Okay. Anyway.” He pulls out a potion bottle from his bag and arches his tail over his head, stinger poised over the lip of the glass.

In seconds, an iridescent-tinted venom spills out of the stinger, much faster than it would normally be. The Scorpion smirks as the bottle fills to the top. “I pride myself on being a human brewing stand.”

He takes the glass away from his tail and admires the concoction inside. “Just wondering, Scar. Did Grian ever tell you what that little rock was for?”

Scar stares at the sparkling concoction. “I… don’t know. I assumed it was just some obsidian from up north.”

“A chunk of obsidian with occasional purple sparks flying off of it?”

“Well, I don’t know these things. I trusted him!” Then softer, “ Clearly, I shouldn’t have.”

“I heard that!” Grian hisses from beside him. Scar barely stifles a scoff.

“I don’t care. The one thing I ask of you is to tell me at least the truth, and you couldn’t do that? Come on,” he jabs, lips curling into a scowl.

Grian rolls his eyes. “You never damn said that, how was I supposed to know?”

“I shouldn’t have to. Trust is something that shouldn’t need to be constantly repaired.” Scar fires back.

Grian’s eyes soften, then widen as he opens his mouth in some sort of shock. “Wait, but I thought–”

“Stop arguing already!” The Scorpion interrupts. He stares at the two until they both shut up before speaking once more. “Okay. So, I know you two know what a Watcher is, right?”

The Scorpion doesn’t wait for any of them to nod. “Anyway, I’m a pretty big fan,” he says absent-mindedly, pulling a large book from his bag. The cover was a desaturated purple, with the pages yellowed and aged. “‘Guide to self-sustenance: Xelqua’s System’. Original copy.” The Scorpion quickly flashes the first page of the book to Scar and Grian. Inside is a faded signature that reads ‘ Xelqua’. “Signed!”

Grian visibly winces, eliciting a shit-eating grin from The Scorpion. “You probably know the story: five beings, graced by the God of Gods, were selected to create a new universe. Each owns a system of planets and controls separate roles to keep the harmony. Blah blah. You most likely didn’t know, because none of you went to basic history class, that some artifacts came along with it as well.”

The Scorpion flips open the pages, muttering to himself before landing on a page. “There! Chapter… uh,” He glances at Grian before clearing his throat. “With the Watchers came five artifacts that each Watcher used separately. The–”

“The Watcher of Fate, Culture, and Creation was bestowed a bouquet of lilacs and poppies, a charm of new beginnings.” Grian sharply cuts off. He doesn’t look over when Scar frowns in confusion, and The Scorpion raises his eyebrows amusedly.

Fate, Culture, Creation. That was Xelqua, Scar knew that.

“The Watcher of Survival and Fulfillment was bestowed a heart of gold, to hold empathy for anyone and anything.”

Symmetry…?

“The Watcher of Chaos and Experiment was bestowed a curiosity like no other, to test and destroy with no limits.”

That one… was something about skulk, and vexes.

“The Watcher of Exile and Persistence was bestowed a fish, a test to see how far His loyalty would go.”

Who even are these Watchers?

“The Watcher of Lies and Deceit was bestowed an inky pendant, which showed lies… from… Truth…”

Grian trails off, reaching for a necklace that was no longer there.

The Scorpion smirks, “See what I’m laying down, Scar?”

No way. 

“You can’t be implying– No. I don’t think that– I was thinking maybe Grian exploited Watcher stuff from Xelqua, not–”

“Scar.” The Scorpion deadpans. “Grian had a pendant that was made from pure magic . That’s something only Watchers can hold onto.”

“Maybe–”

The Scorpion groans, stepping forward and yanking Grian to his feet. The Scorpion’s tail wraps thickly around Grian’s lower body as he shakes the iridescent potion from earlier. “Lies from truth, remember? That means, and I’m no nerd like Etho, so I wouldn’t know, but in theory, it would show you… something really bloody interesting.”

Grian growls, trying to wriggle out of The Scorpions' grip, but he is unable to make it out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! Let me go.”

“Grian, just tell the truth.” Scar prods firmly.

“I am telling the truth!”

“No, you’re not!” Scar snaps back. He takes a breath, “Clearly, you’re not, because your ‘truth’ doesn’t explain all the tiny things about you that just don’t make sense. ”

Grian snorts, “Shaming me on my minor mistakes now?”

“It’s no longer minor when they all connect and lead to something that could be serious! Please, Grian. Please.” Scar says, hands trembling.

Please don’t be what I think you are. Please don’t be what I think you are.

Grian takes a breath to refute back, but The Scorpion rolls his eyes and holds the mouth of the bottle to Grian’s lips. When Grian doesn’t drink, The Scorpion forcefully tilts Grian’s head back and laughs when the latter chokes on the liquid.

Scar watches as Grian struggles, horrible gurgling noises emitting from the shorter as Grian finally swallows some of the potion. Some eventually becomes half, and half becomes almost all. The Scorpion lets go when the bottle runs dry and tosses it behind him, glass flying across the small room.

Grian doesn’t move when The Scorpion slowly coils away, a cocky smirk on his face. “Scar, oh Scar. I always knew you were kind of stupid, but not this stupid for Watcher’s sake.” He sighs when Scar covers Gem in anticipation. “Mm… did you ever ask how the hell Grian fell from a tall ass tree and didn’t sustain a single injury?”

“I thought–” Scar pipes up. The Scorpion shuts him down with a click of his tongue.

“No, Scar. I can tell you right now that you’re gonna be so wrong. Save me the second-hand embarrassment.” Behind Scar, he can hear a squelching sound, followed by gasps that evolve into wails.

He doesn’t turn around.

Scar stares at Gem’s expression. He refuses to turn around.

Crunch.

He won’t.

“Scar– I’m sorry–” A cacophony of whispers starts murmuring into his ears, followed by a wet, tearing noise and a roar.

He won’t.

Something splatters across Scar’s wings and upper back. He looks at the walls around him to see a mix of golden glow and the wine red of blood dripping off the walls. It smells of iron. Scar could vomit.

He won’t. Scar tells himself, wiping the bodily mixture onto the ground. He won’t because he knows what’s going to happen.

Maybe if he doesn’t look, it’ll be less real.

He ignores the dark purple feather that drifts in front of his face, rocking its way toward the ground.

“Maybe I should reintroduce your little boyfriend here.” The Scorpion’s voice rings out.

“ No!” Grian screams, but it’s already too late. The slight distortion to Grian’s voice doesn’t make Scar feel any better.

“Scar, it is my pleasure to introduce you to the God of the Lands. The divine that abandoned us thousands of years ago.”

Don’t.

“The ruler of LIFE himself, Xelqua!”

…

Scar lets out a shuddering breath and slowly turns around.

In Grian’s place stands a man with five pairs of wings, a dozen eyes and a geometric core replacing his heart.

He’s beautiful, Scar thinks with a gag.

Ichor drips from the God’s body, tipping his large wings with gold. He stares back at Scar with a wince.

Scar doesn’t say anything for a very long time. It gets so quiet that Xelqua eventually tries to walk out.

He won’t let him, not as easily as that. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You–! You would have hated me.” Grian spits back, bitter, scared.

“Well, you could have at least said something!? You could have told me, Gem, fucking anyone that you were that thing! I would have hated you less than I currently do right now.”

“The outcome wouldn’t be any different, would it? You scream at me and tell every citizen in LIFE that I am here to take their souls. I made this place, I deserve to at least visit.”

“You had hundreds upon thousands of years to visit us. Even once. You didn’t, though.” Scar refutes immediately, “And, you’re not even visiting! Your sorry ass couldn’t even–!” He stops and takes a breath.

No yelling, he wouldn’t be any better than Xelqua, then.

Xelqua tenses, jaw clenching as he stares at Scar, to Gem, then to Scar again. Then, he starts murmuring to what seemed to be no one in particular.

“No. Stop it. I can’t… Oh, but I could, couldn’t I? I could. I could, I could, I could.”

A few moments pass, and Xelqua’s eyes fade into a bright purple, any trace of a warm hint of hazelnut brown gone completely. He sharply exhales and stares at Scar, hands balled into fists. “Couldn’t even what?”

Scar doesn’t respond. That seems to tick Xelqua off; his voice lowers. “You think this is all my fault, don’t you?”

“Because it is–”

“Shut it!” Xelqua snarls, snapping forward. “Just because I gave you a place to live, doesn’t mean that I caused all of your misery, okay?! Sure, I gave you wings, but I didn’t choose you specifically, nor did I choose for your stupid planet to randomly become a dictatorship. Either way, who the hell cares?!”

Scar hums, dramatically pretending to think it over. “Pfft, I don’t know, maybe the kids who were kicked out of their houses for being different care. Maybe all of my friends, who were put through these horrible death games over and over again, care.”

Xelqua narrows his eyes. “ You clearly don’t care! You only care about yourself.”

“How?! I spent my whole life training to be worth damn something to go save people. How is that only caring about myself?” Scar asks pointedly, rising to his feet.

Xelqua was a few inches taller in his Watcher form, but Scar still held a height advantage over him.

Xelqua snorts. “Everything you do is for yourself. Why do you do this… vigilante thing in the first place, huh? Right, because you don’t want to suffer. Because you can’t accept what you are. Because you always think it’s your fault, for no reason at all! Just– think about someone else for once. How do they feel? All the people and ‘monsters’ you killed, they all have a reason, and yet you don’t care because you’re too self-absorbed in chasing your pointless goals!

You can’t even think about me properly! It’s always ‘Gem’ this and ‘Gem’ that. ‘Gem, can you do this for me? I’m too incompetent to raise a single dollar on my own! I’m a little kid to you, you don’t even– you– you don’t even love me, and yet you have the audacity to say it to my face like you mean it!”

“ I did mean it! I really did! But I see that I’m far mistaken now, considering you’ve shown your true colours.” Scar hisses, stepping towards Xelqua.

Xelqua gives a bark of laughter, and then another, and eventually he’s cackling so hard that Scar is thrown off from their argument for a second. “True colours? Are you being serious right now?”

Scar nods, a sharp grin falling onto his face. “Yeah. Maybe you can’t cope with being a failure of a God! Not even the Watchers want you.”

Xelqua immediately stops laughing, fingers twitching slightly.

Oh, no.

Scar expects death, but instead Xelqua’s voice rises louder. “Fine. Fine! You wanna go there. I can go there too. Do you really wanna know what you are? What your life means to this universe?”

Xelqua leans in close to Scar’s face. “You’re a fucking test subject.”

Scar furrows his eyebrows in confusion, which only eggs Xelqua on more. “All those tidbits of sadness in your life? It’s a joke. A complete jest. I just wanted to test out some mechanics, and some of you just happened to get the blunt end of it. You would be deleted if not for me having some human empathy for you Reborns.”

“If… what? If we’re just an experiment, then… why am I even…? What am I…?” Scar fumbles, thoughts tying a messy knot in his head.

What the hell am I fighting for, if we’re just specks of dust in the universe? What’s the point if we were going to be deleted anyway?

Xelqua laughs, “What? Realized that it’s all futile already? That’s pathetic. Don’t worry, I can end your superficial existence right now if you’d like. ”

For some reason, Scar considers it. He really thinks it over. If not fighting for rights, then what is he? If it was going to be useless in the end, then why go on?

But then, he remembers his friends. His teammates. The joy on their faces when Scar gets a kill, or plays along with their bit. Scar wouldn’t have anyone if it weren’t for these wings.

Gem. He can’t leave Gem, either. Grian can shame him, however much he likes. And maybe, he’s right. Maybe Scar is too dependent, but why the hell does that matter if his life is going to end soon anyway?

With all the courage he can summon, he looks into those electric purple eyes, those eyes he could drown in, and speaks.

“Get the fuck out of my face. Leave. Go. If I see you near any of my friends, I will murder you.”

As soon as the words leave Scar’s mouth, he already feels bad when he sees the expression Xelqua makes when he recoils, blank purple eyes flickering back to brown for a few seconds. Maybe , just maybe, this God still had some humanity left in him.

It was already far too late for that, though.

Xelqua snarls, turns around, and starts walking away, only looking back once before slamming the vault door shut.

Scar lets out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, leaning against the ichor-stained walls and groaning in relief.

Thank the Watchers. He could get Gem help now and–

“Oh, geez. That was something.” 

Oh.

The Scorpion claps, “Good performance though. Could have had some physical altercations, but that’s alright. I’ll just ehm, be right back. I gotta go tell my peeps somethin’.”

The Scorpion was snitching ? There was no way he was getting out of here unscathed.

But he had a plan. For once, he had a plan.

“Gem. Can you stand for me?” Scar asks softly, extending a hand. Gem declines it and slowly wobbles to her feet.

She almost immediately collapses, and Scar had to let Gem lean her weight on him to get her walking.

Before the door swings closed, Scar catches it, waiting for The Scorpion’s footsteps to fade away before climbing up the stairs, Gem by his side.

It was dark outside, and Scar could register that from the windows. But he was going to make it, with his only real family by his side.

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

Scar yelps as he trips over a root sticking out from the ground. Damn trees.

He’s walking through a forest that hopefully leads to a highway, Gem trailing slowly behind. Scar didn’t want to cut through the forest, due to being too worried about Gem’s injuries, but trying to leave through the front door only met him face to face with Bdubs and Lizzie, who got here surprisingly quickly.

Scar had grabbed Gem, and in the most respectful way possible, picked her up and flew out the back door. Literally.

The sounds of Lizzie and Bdubs yelling followed behind Scar for a considerable amount of time, but he kept flying until his wings gave out and he had to land before he dropped Gem.

When he did land, the first thing he had done was inspect Gem’s injuries. A shitty splint was tied around her arm, dried blood coating the flimsy thing like a thin layer of paint. He tried to ask about the scratches and stab marks, but Gem never responded when he did.

Eventually, Gem insisted that she could walk for a while more, and Scar would have loved to protest, but didn’t see much more of a choice. 

So walk they did.

Though hunger stabbed at Scar’s stomach, and his mouth was getting painfully dry, he kept walking, partly for himself, but mostly in spite of Xelqua.

Scar turns around to check on Gem. She’s shaking with almost every limp of a step she takes.

A darker side of his mind tells Scar that Gem is slowing Scar down, that he could make it out so much faster. 

But without Gem, who else would Scar have?

A snap of a twig interrupts his thoughts, and a spill of swears come after. Scar whips around to see Tango Tek through the shadows, cursing a stick like his life depended on it.

Scar opens his mouth to speak, but he barely makes a noise before Tango picks up the broken twig off the ground and lights it on fire with a touch of a hand. It dissolves into ash in seconds.

“Before you tell me how un-sneaky that was, just know that if you even move from your position right now, I will burn this place to the ground.”

Scar’s muscles lock up, freezing in place. He doesn’t have time for this. Compliance was likely the fastest way to go.

Tango steps forward, grabbing a pair of handcuffs from his belt and swinging them around. “Nice. Now the law requests that you two cooperate, so–”

As Tango tries to clamp the metal around Scar’s wrists once more, Scar gives a sharp jab to the underside of Tango’s jaw.

The handcuffs clatter to the ground, and immediately, Tango snarls.

He steps back, the grass beneath his feet alighting into a lick of fire. Tango gasps at his own fire, and stumbles away from the sparks as the greenery bursts into a glowing dance of orange and red.

Tango glances at the fire, then at Scar and Gem before pulling out a sword from a sheath on his back Scar hadn’t noticed before.

Scar doesn’t get to move before Gem weakly stands between Scar and Tango, raising her arms with a wince. “Don’t.”

Tango takes a breath, but only grips the sword harder in response. Scar knows Tango wasn’t ever the greatest fighter, however, with an ability like physically combusting and being fire definitely supported his ego.

Gem glances behind Tango. Scar follows her gaze to a small gap in the trees, leading to an open area. The fire steadily grew, slowly inching towards the exit. She bites her lip, looking at Scar before lunging forward and forcefully yanking the sword out of Tango’s hand.

Scar steps back in shock as Tango retaliates with a punch. Gem doesn’t use the sword, and instead throws it to Scar. He doesn’t pick it up, too shellshocked to do anything.

Gem is sloppy, it couldn’t be clearer as she misses point-blank kicks, and can barely lift her arms to throw a punch. To any ordinary person, it looks like Tango has the upper hand. But Gem always had something up her sleeve. She had to.

She did, with no doubt. A leg swings out and wipes Tango’s feet from out under him. The fire, at this point, rages closer to the three. Scar can feel the flames licking at the tips of his wings. Tango’s sword still lies forgotten next to him.

Gem looks at Scar, and her face almost falls apart when she sees Scar standing there. Her face freezes up, but it melts as her gaze flickers towards the clearing.

“Scar, run.” Gem gasps out, moving to press her foot heavily over Tango’s neck.

Scar’s eyes widen. What? “Wait. No. Why? I’m not leaving you here.”

Gem tries to laugh,” You practically did already– ” but trails off into a violent coughing fit. She takes a visible breath and speaks more words than Scar has heard from her in the last few hours. “Let’s be honest, Scar. I wish I could be enthusiastic at this point, but I really just… don’t. I’m not making it out of this fucking forest.”

No. Please no.

“No. We– We can still make it! I can carry you and we can fly out of here–”

“Your wings would burn if you dared to try, Scar. I just want you to survive. Go, please.” Gem pleads, voice barely loud enough to be heard.

“Gem.” Scar shakes his head, “You’re all I have left. Please. Don’t… I…”

Gem was right. Only one of them was going to make it out alive. A large fire swirled around the three, inching closer by the second. The only exit was about to be consumed by the flames when Gem speaks once more. “ Go! Scar, just go!”

Scar takes a shaky breath, tears welling up in his eyes as he stares at Gem and Tango wrestling on the ground, before stepping to the outclearing.

Gem looks up and smiles at Scar, weak, but happy, genuinely happy. “Thank you.” She mouths, “You were the best roommate I could have had.”

Then she presses down on Tango’s neck until a cacophony of cracks fills the air. Then, the only thing Scar hears is a soft, hissing noise.

Sticky ooze coats the entirety of Tango’s body as his mouth drops in shock, more and more pumping out of his glands.

Scar silently watches in horror as it sprays onto Gem. Her skin starts melting off as heat rapidly builds. She winces, doubling over onto her knees, only covering her in more of the sticky gasoline.

The hiss slowly grows louder, and louder, and louder, until finally, the clearing explodes .

Scar shields himself with his wings, screaming as the flames greedily consume his wings. Heat fills the air, the loud noise leaves Scar’s ears ringing painfully, and the radiation comes in contact with Scar’s hands, flesh deforming into burnt goops. Even so, he quickly lowers whatever’s left of his wings and squints through the smoke.

“Gem?” he calls, staring into the haze. “Please?”

Nothing but ash met his call.

“Gem–” He calls once more, or tries, but his voice gives out as tears flood his eyes and overflow. Scar collapses to the ground, body convulsing as he chokes on his ugly sobs.

Gone. She was gone.

She sacrificed herself for Scar. Scar didn’t even consider helping.

He didn’t want to get hurt.

But that was selfish. Painfully selfish.

Xelqua was right.

Xelqua was right.

Xelqua was right.

He was nothing more than a test experiment after all. A superficial scrap of meat. He cared for nothing more than his own goals.

Scar never even said anything back.

He only took, and took, and took from others. He never gave, was too cunning for his own good. Watchers, how did he not notice before?

Scar slowly stands up, wiping a few tears from his face.

In the ruins of what used to be a beautiful clearing, flowers withered away with the explosion, it clicks.

He knows his purpose now. It was clear, and Scar was sure Xelqua would agree.

To be a waste of fucking space.

Chapter Text

“Get the fuck out of my face. Leave. Go. If I see you near any of my friends, I will murder you.”

For a second, Grian hesitates. Is this right? He doesn’t really want to leave Scar.

You wouldn’t have to make this decision if you had left sooner. Pick your ass up and go.

He clenches his jaw, starting to walk away, only glancing back once before sprinting up the stairs.

It was weird, complying with a voice in Grian’s head that was most likely himself. It didn’t feel like himself, and it surely didn’t sound like himself.

The harsh reality is that it was him. Just a different version of him.

Grian swings the front door open, immediately ducking into a shadow. The sun was setting, and no one would be able to see his wings when the star dipped below the horizon, but it was better to be safe than to be even more sorry.

What now? Grian asks, passively listening to a soft rattling sound in the distance.

A rattling sound?

Take over. Conquer what is rightfully yours.

He nods, not to anyone in particular, before slipping onto a winding path that seemed to once be a hiking trail. How?

You know how.

I do.

Grian kicks some rocks off a jagged edge, dragging his feet through the gravel. What was that noise? It was starting to get annoying.

The rattling follows him as Grian hastily walks through a thick clearing of trees, looking for an opening.

Then, from the corner of his eye, Grian sees a figure slipping through the trees, skillfully manoeuvring through the dark. Grian tries to investigate further, but it’s almost like the person had disappeared.

He scoffs and continues, ending up at a fenced-off part of what seemed to be an abandoned park.

But, as Grian prepares to throw himself over the surprisingly short fence, a person tackles him, slamming him against the planks.

Grian snarls, turning around and getting ready to throw a kick, but is instead met with a man with a face mask, all lean muscle and much taller than Grian. This man was also laughing.

He had silvery hair, slightly wavy and in an organised mess, with a golden wedding band on his middle finger . A long tail stretched out under a black turtleneck, scaled, with a rattle at the tip.

This man was a Reborn . A rattlesnake one at that.

Which makes it so much more confusing why this guy was trying to attack a Watcher, all things considered.

Kill him. He tried to attack you.

No. Not right now, it could have been a misunderstanding. Just wait for once.

Fine.

The man seems to notice Grian staring him down and backs off, still chuckling softly. “Hey. Sorry about that. I- heh, yeah. Uh,” A nervous look slips onto his face, slowly stepping further and further back.

“You should probably stop walking. You’re going to plummet into a ravine behind you.” Grian provides, raising an eyebrow at the man.  “You do realise you just attacked your God, right? I could’ve killed you for that.”

The man shrugs in response. “Yeah. I’m, uh, Etho. Please don’t kill me,” he says, speedily walking back to Grian and extending a hand.

Grian squints. “Why are you being so damn nice? You do know that I caused like half of your problems in life, right?

They’re experiments. Didn’t I tell you that twenty minutes ago?

I know. But if I tell this random dude that, then my identity will be leaked.

“Problems? What problems?” Etho looks around the scenery, as if looking for a physical manifestation of ‘problems’ before sighing. “I may have listened to your dispute with Joel and mothy boy over there, and I was just curious, I swear!” he adds, putting his hands up in surrender when Grian cocks his head to the side.

“But uh. Okay, look . I don’t have any problem with you being Xelqua at all; in fact, I’m actually grateful for being a Reborn because that’s the only way I made friends in my life. You, uh, could have told Scar nicer, but hey, I- I don’t control what you do.”

“I was just going to offer you a place to stay, because I’m presuming Scar doesn’t want you back at his place, wherever that is,” Etho asks, voice going up half an octave.

Grian blinks. Really? Someone actually respected him around here?

Took someone long enough.

Okay, I suppose we were right. Etho is a formidable ally to us.

We? I literally had to stop you from scooping his guts out.

…

We’re the same person, dummy. I’m a result of your binding to the heavens.

I know.

“Xelqua?”

If you take your position as Watcher back, I’ll merge with you once more. You won’t hear me anymore.

Well, buckle up, black-magic version of me, because you’re in for a long ride.

“Xelqua! Grian…? ”

Grian’s head snaps up “Oh. Yeah, yeah. Thank you so much, Etho.”

“Okay! Great. My car is actually parked over there, so it shouldn’t be too much of a walk–”

“I can teleport us there.” Grian interrupts, gesturing to his wings and probably purple eyes and the golden blood covering every inch of his body.

Etho shakes his head, “No, I can’t just leave my car–” Grian snaps his fingers, and the world around the two starts warping inwards. Eventually, the two are dropped into a white void with nothing more than a few purple specks floating around in the air.

“Dammit, they got rid of my decorations in here.” Grian frowns, looking at the limbo like it was a foreign object to be thrown away. “Anyway, where’s your house? Relative location is fine.”

“...What the ff–– What. Why? We could have just…” Etho stammers, pacing around Grian’s limbo. He eventually stops and sighs. “Ten-ish miles from The Border. Rural neighbourhood, painted grey?”

Etho shrieks as the limbo vanishes, dropping him face-first in the middle of nowhere. Grian, prepared for the sudden shift, flies a few inches off the ground.

“Oops. Should have told you about that.” Grian says with a snicker. He looks up and notices he had teleported himself and Etho about a mile from the presumed destination. “ Annnd I undershot.”

Etho practically deflates on the ground, sitting up with a pathetic note to his voice. “No… My car. I liked that thing.”

Grian thinks back to the park, but he doesn’t recall seeing a car. “Yeah? What model?”

“2006 Jeep Wrangler. Desaturated Green. Please tell me you’re going to teleport it here, too.”

“That’s the goal,” Grian says, just as a Jeep spawns in.

Right at the driveway of Etho’s house.

Etho slowly turns to face Grian, to which he shrugs. “It was an accident, I swear. My powers just aren’t…”

You can get them back.

“Can’t you try to teleport us again?” Etho asks.

“Maybe. But what’s the fun in that?”

The rattlesnake groans, slowly standing up and brushing dirt off his pants. “Fine. Fine! Let’s go, then.”

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

When the two make it to the driveway, Etho practically sprints to his car, hugging it like a baby dropped from a balcony.

“Geez, you really like that thing, don’t you?” Grian laughs, raising a brow as Etho plants a kiss on the window through his mask.

Etho seemingly giggles at himself. “I don’t want to buy a new one. I’m kind of attached to it.”

“I can tell.”

“Alright, alright. Come in, now. I’ve got a spare room.” Etho waves, pulling out a set of house keys. Grian snorts as Etho tests one key, realises it’s the wrong one, and goes to the next. 

Etho finally gets the door open by the time Grian is ready to rip it off its hinges. Grian takes a few steps into the house, and oh wow .

It was admittedly so much better than Scar and Gem’s apartment. Not a speck of dirt seen anywhere. The shoe rack was organised by colour, and there was an actual leather couch, and an upstairs!

“Whoa.” Grian squeaks out, staring at an underwatered monstera plant in the corner. “This place is–”

“A lot better than you’d expect, huh? Yeah, I was going to get married to the co-owner of the coffee shop I worked at. The wedding was called off, though.” Etho shrugs, picking at the wedding band on his hand. “They left me with some money, so that’s great.”

Grian gives a sympathetic pat on the head, ignoring the way he had to stand on his tiptoes to reach comfortably. “That sucks. Sorry for your… Loss?” he hesitates glancing down at Etho’s hand, “Er, but if the wedding was called off, then why did you keep the ring?”

“I actually bought both rings, in compensation for my fiancée giving me a truckload of money. They gave me the ring back when I called quits, and obviously, I liked the ring I chose for myself, so I kept it.” Etho explains, like that was a totally normal thing to do.

Grian ruffles his feathers, confused. “Are you sure that you’re over your fiancée? That’s not really a normal thing to do. And she was giving you money, and you didn’t even…?”

Etho cocks a brow, wrestling a pair of black platform boots off. “I thought you were supposed to be evil and understand this.” He jokes. “They were a jerk anyway. Could barely stand her, and I can’t commit to a relationship like that, y’know? Also, Cleo Slab isn’t a great name, I will say. So...”

“You were going to get married to Cleo?! Like the one that gave Scar– You–?! ”

“I know, right? They’re great, but Watchers, does it get bland.” He shivers, as if even thinking back on the past relationship gives him nightmares.

Grian winces, “No, that’s not what I– …” Grian silently shuffles his own shoes off. Maybe he’s being a bit hypocritical when he says this, but “Maybe you’re just not made for this love thing.”

“Like you’re any better.” Etho immediately shoots back, so calmly that it throws Grian off guard. “I might not be able to stick with anyone for more than a year, but at least I didn’t tell my boyfriend that his existence was futile.”

It’s silent for a few beats, as Etho walks towards a marble kitchen island and waves him over.

Finally, “Sorry, don’t take it to heart, for now. You got your own issues, and I got mine. We’ll talk about it later.”

Grian sighs, “Right. Later.”

Etho opens a cabinet and digs around until he pulls out a plastic bowl with some foreign lettering on the lid. He prys at the plastic wrapping before stopping. “Any negative opinions on microwavable ramen?”

“Oh, ehm. If not traditionally, then I suppose it’s fine. You know me, I like it… Culturally accurate? No, now that I think about it, microwavable noodles are a part of…”

Grian is interrupted by Etho, violently clearing his throat. “Okay, Mr. ‘God of Culture’, I hope you’re fine with pork broth. I’ll just chuck this in the microwave for ya, and then you can go sleep, or whatever you Watchers do.”

He watches as Etho rips the plastic wrapping off, somehow methodically filling the bowl up with water and putting seasoning packets in, and chucking the whole thing into the microwave. Grian watches amusedly as Etho pushes in four minutes and dusts his hands off.

Grian glances at a dusty stovetop, clearly untouched.

Yeah, this man definitely didn’t know how to cook.

The next three minutes and thirty seconds are complete silence, with Grian absently glancing around while Etho drums his fingers on the countertop.

The timer on the microwave hits twenty seconds, just as the doorbell rings.

Etho frowns as the sharp song of the doorbell’s chime rings through the house. The person on the other side didn’t seem quite happy that the door wasn’t immediately opened, as they started rapidly spamming the doorbell.

Etho checks the time, and his face drops.

“Oh. Oh … Oops. I… Invited someone over and I completely forgot about it. Damn it. Xelqua, do me a favour and like, hide. It would be awfully awkward if you were just, y’know.” He waves at Grian in his eight-winged glory.

Grian huffs. “Fine.”

I’m going invisible.

Alright. Remember that the effects don’t last as long as some other Watchers, even less considering your state.

Geez, I just wanted to remind us. Chill out.

As Etho steps towards the door, Grian snaps his fingers and feels his form dissolve.

Being invisible wasn’t the greatest thing, he swore that every molecule of his body hated it, especially because doing such a thing was basically just changing the chemical process of Grian’s body, or however Cub described it.

The discomfort of going invisible led to Grian majorly underpracticing it and its other magical siblings, which include shapeshifting entirely.

Anyway , Etho opens the door, and Grian almost gasps when he sees who’s on the other side.

Joel? The Scorpian of all things?

“Watchers, finally Etho! I thought you’d forgotten about me for a second.” He snarks, tapping Etho on the chest with one flick of a shiny tail. Joel was dressed weirdly casual, wearing some oversized band shirt and cargo pants, paired with what seemed to be slippers. He also had quite the obvious limp to his stride. “...Anyway, who’s the unlucky person? Heard you talkin’ to someone.”

Etho gags, which Grian takes very personally. He glances toward the kitchen, like he expected Grian to just be standing there. “Why would you–? Welp, you know me, Joel, just losing my mind all alone here. Talking to myself, you know the drill.”

Joel raises an eyebrow “Yeah, sure. Don’t think I know about your issues. If you know what I mean.” The scorpion impatiently glares at the other. “Are you going to invite me in or what? I accidentally dislocated my fucking leg again trying to learn the choreography to Gnarly, and also I need to complain about Grian and Scar. C’mon now.”

Etho scoffs in response, “Gosh, only begging to come over to complain? I feel used.” He pauses, drumming his fingers on the doorframe. “I, uh, I’m gonna eat dinner really quick, cause I just microwaved some stuff, so. Maybe come back in like five? Or sit out there, I don’t care.”

“Etho. Last time I checked, which was four days ago, you don’t eat dinner. Seriously, if you’ve got someone over, I will only be a little mad.” Joel persists.

“...Only a little mad?” Etho asks, voice small, but teasing in a way.

Joel basically rolls his singular eye to the back of his skull. “Fine. A bit more than mad, but still, honesty is the best policy.”

“That was the most hypocritical thing I’ve heard come out of your mouth.” Etho deadpans.

It is silent for a few moments before both Etho and Joel explode into laughter, with Joel breaking into a cacophony of coughs and wheezes.

C’mon, Etho, hurry up. I can’t do this forever. Grian thinks, staring at Etho like it would somehow project those words into his head.

…You could kill him.

No! I thought we already talked about this. Plus, Joel is right there.

Okay? But you could kill him, too.

Shit, you’re so right. You’re not supposed to be right. Stop it.

I thought you wanted to be a Watcher again.

How does killing two dudes make me more of a Watcher?

How does it not?

… Grian sighs, thoughts flicking back to Etho and Joel.

Or only Etho, apparently, because Etho was slowly closing the front door, murmuring apologies before turning back to the kitchen.

Grian lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, gasping gutturally as his hands slam onto the countertop like his life depended on it.

“Nice.” Etho comments, before gesturing towards a staircase to a presumed basement. “I’ve got a spare room down there… Well, I’ve also got one upstairs, but that’s a different situation right now.”

“Right.” Grian follows when Etho starts down the stairs.

When his socks touch the carpeted floor, Grian is met with a very Etho-y basement. The space is vaguely rectangular in shape, with a few stray angles here and there. On the left side, a large black couch faces a dusty TV, which probably hasn’t been turned on in a century. A curtain track runs along the ceiling, with an actual velvet curtain hanging near a wall.

On the other side of the room is a desk, some parts of it wood-stained with a dark oak colour. On the desk are three monitors, the very left stacked on a pile of books and turned off. The computer’s background was a highly saturated drawing of sakura trees, and a microphone was shoved into a tissue box, which at least matched the colours of the desk. A coffee mug and a glass cup sat next to each other, both filled to the top with their respective liquids.

Two speakers lingered on the edges of the desk, barely on the table at all. There were also two red and black computer mice. Of the same kind, and on the same table, about two feet away from each other. And, speaking of mice, the main mouse was sideways under the keyboard, which was pushed give or take twelve inches away from the front of the desk. There was also no mousepad action, instead having the mousepad to the left of the tissue box.

The only normal thing Grian had seen about this setup was a guitar amp to the right of the mess of objects and a handful of posters for a band called “Paramore”.

Finally, in the centre of the room was a random nightstand with a coffee machine on it. Two potted plants stood on either side of the machine, some of the leaves dying. And–

…

Etho had a HotGuy calendar.

A HotGuy Calendar.

Right above the coffee machine hung a HotGuy calendar, still on June. The picture for the month was Scar surfing, light hitting his face almost too perfectly, like it had been photoshopped a little. The calendar was completely blank, other than a red circle around June 29th.

Right.

“Uh, anyway.” Etho clears his throat once he sees Grian’s eyes locked onto the calendar. “Your room is a sharp turn ‘round the corner… So.” He pivots on his heels and swings a door open.

Holy shit.

It was a fairly basic room, but instead of a standard white ceiling, it featured a panel with small LEDs, giving the ceiling a look reminiscent of a spray of artificial stars.

“Whoa, my God. That’s– When did you people invent this? Can I use it for one of my future builds?!” Grian gasps, marvelling at the shining dots lining the ceiling. It was definitely the best thing in this house. Other than the HotGuy calendar, but Grian doesn’t want to think about that right now.

Etho chuckles, “You can get someone to install it for you, here. I built it myself, though.”

“BUILT IT YOURSELF ?!” Grian exclaims, turning around and grabbing Etho by his shoulders. “Can you– Would you like to be part of the Watchers? Well. Not officially, ‘cause… But it can be like a Secret Society!”

“Yikes. No. Too much responsibility. And power. Too much of both.”

Grian sighs. “Fine.” He flops onto the bed, melting into the soft linen. Gosh, did he miss beds.

Grian can feel Etho’s eyes on him, and finally, Etho says something. “We need to talk about the… Scar thing, really quick. Just, really quick.”

“What?” Grian’s gaze flicks to Etho, who was avoiding all eye contact imaginable.

“About everything you said to him. Uh, you probably know this already, but yeah, the vigilante stuff is kind of important to him. He’s donated to practically a trillion illegal charities supporting homeless Reborns and injustice. So, I think you were way harsh to him.”

“Like offering to kill him is not very cool, especially because he’s been a bit sick in the head these days, y’know? And I kind of see him as a son, so maybe don’t. And, I get that I might sound really hypocritical, because I’ve dated like…” He snorts, “Everyone. But, still.”

Grian blinks. “No? I think Scar was the problem, right? Because he was claiming I broke trust, and this, and that. But I swear I was just following the definition of love, was I not? ‘Deep feeling of affection’? I loved Scar. Maybe I didn’t act on it completely right–”

“Not acting on it right is an understatement.” Etho sharply cuts off, then he sighs. “It sounds to me like you just don’t know what love is … Actually, add a gallon of apathy and no sense of morals to that. But, still! There was no reason to say that to him.”

Grian bites his lip. Was I being insensitive?

You were just fending for yourself.

I was. I don’t get it.

“Anyway, if you see him again, and you guys can somehow ,” Etho visibly winces, saying those words, and Grian can see why. “ Somehow , make up. It might not be too late to get it together and try again. Just… You can’t leave him like that.”

Try again. Can he try again? With Scar?

Grian slowly drawls out, “...Yeah, yeah. I’ll keep that in mind, I guess.”

Etho keeps talking. “You can stay here for now, until you want to leave, or I can’t afford it anymore. If you need money, then I can ask Cleo if you can interview for a position at Boardwalk Coffee.”

“Yes. I will probably need money, because I don’t think I can just produce it from thin air.” Grian laughs.

Etho quickly nods, stepping outside the room. “Alright. I’ll tell them right now. I, uh, gotta go now. Joel will kill me if I keep him waiting too long. Goodnight.”

“Oh yeah!” Grian pipes up, “What’s with you and Joel anyway? I’ve heard him mention your name a few times outside of today.”

Etho makes a weird face, then coughs into his hand. 

“ Goodnight, Xelqua,” he grits out, slamming the door shut.

Chapter Text

“Excuse me, but we closed an hour ago. We really need you to leave about now.”

Grian tries to put on his best smile, hoping his annoyance wasn’t leaking through his glare.

“Oh!” A girl with hazelnut hair gasps, “Yes, we will be leaving soon. Hey, get me a box for this, will you?”

“Yes. Right away. Will you be getting your check with that?” He asks.

The whole group starts staring at a girl with fair skin and ripped jeans that tore from her hips to her ankles. She gives a high-pitched giggle in return. “Guuuys! I, like, forgot my wallet, sorry! I can ask Ryan to send me money, though.” She turns to Grian. “Do you take Apple Pay?”

Grian groans. 

If you three don’t leave in five minutes,  this place is going to be getting a fresh coat of red paint.

 “I… Sorry, I’m new here. Let me ask someone really quick, and I’ll get you a box for that cake.” He grits out, quickly walking away.

Etho is waiting for him, snickering as Grian rubs his eyes tiredly. “That group is really getting on your nerves, huh?” He says, eventually, grabbing Grian a cardboard takeout box and a complimentary paper bag that said ‘Boardwalk Coffee’ on it.

“I can’t get them to leave!” Grian squeaks out, fighting the urge to scream.

Skizz, who is cleaning the coffee machines, glances over. “Etho! Don’t leave the newbie fightin’ those girls alone! Give him a hand.”

Etho sighs, any teasing looks dissipating in seconds. “Fine.”

Grian walks back to the group with Etho slowly trailing behind. “Here we are, a box for you.”

They don’t hear him, laughing and squealing over some dude named Daniel.

Etho winces, giving Grian a sympathetic look that said ‘yikes’ and ‘don’t make me deal with this’ all in one. When Grian steps aside, Etho hesitatingly takes his place and Grian’s box.

“Ladies, I’ve got your takeout box. I, uh… Right. How will you be paying this afternoon?” Etho asks, painfully polite.

A blonde girl speaks up. “I thought Miley already told you.” She says, spitting the words out like a flavourless piece of chewing gum. “We want to pay with Apple Pay. Hurry up. Do you take it or not?”

Etho’s jaw visibly clenches, but his friendly tone stays steady. “No, we don’t. Please pay with cash or card.”

Blondie opens her mouth to speak once more, but the hazelnut-haired girl cuts her off. In a loud whisper, she says, “Hey, that guy is kinda cute though. Cut him some slack, Julie. Let me deal with this.” She clears her throat, then brushes her hair behind her ear with big puppy eyes. “Heyyy! Sorry about my friends, I promise I’m not like them. You’re cute, do you think you could let us off this once?” She mewls with a wink.

Grian almost bursts out laughing from how fast Etho reels back, a hand over his mouth like it genuinely shocked him.

“I— Uh. That’s not…” Etho stammers, looking as though he were deciding between punching the girl in the face or running for his life.

Suddenly, Skizz saunters up behind Etho, leaning on his shoulder. Etho violently jumps, but relaxes with a glance behind him. “Hey, that’s against company policy. Please just pay with cash or card and leave, as we need to clean up for tomorrow.” He says with a relaxed grin on his face.

‘Miley’ rolls her eyes. “Don’t rush us, old man. We’re trying to have a girls' night out, and you’re ruining it. Just give us ten more minutes and we’ll leave.”

“Yeah!” Hazelnut hair girl interjects, “and Julie knows fresh meat when she sees it, and I’m sure it’s not against your company policy to flirt with someone a little.”

Grian just stands there as the three girls repeatedly insult Skizz, then hype ‘Julie’ up to try to get Etho’s number, or something. He slowly backs away, mouthing “I’ll be right back” to Etho and Skizz before running past the cashier desk, weaving through the machinery, and making it to a room that says ‘manager’. He frantically knocks on the door until a person with sunset-orange hair and a curvy figure opens it, unamused.

“What do you want, Xelqua?” Cleo squints. They immediately frown at the commotion near the girls’ table. “I’m trying to do manager things, which is nothing. I thought we closed an hour ago?”

“Cleo!” Grian gasps in relief, “There’s a group of girls at the table over there, and they won’t get out! They’re harassing Etho and Skizz right now, please help.”

Cleo sighs and mutters, “Not again…” She unclips a small pride flag name tag from their uniform and replaces it with a golden, oval pin that reads their name and ‘Manager’ on it.

Grian quickly leads them back to the table with the girls. Etho looks about ready to die, while Skizz is arguing back with his life.

Cleo claps her hands together, and immediately, everyone goes silent. “Excuse me,” she says, gaze sharp. “But last time I checked, Boardwalk closed ages ago. I request you stop harassing our employees, pay, and get out.”

‘Julie’ argues back immediately, “This dude is insulting us! We’re just trying to have a good time! You should be mad at him instead.”

Cleo’s eye twitches. “Employees here at Boardwalk don’t need to put up with your crap, lady. Now pay.” They say, putting their hands on her hips.

Hazelnut-haired girl's eyes go wide as she points at the shiny pin on Cleo’s top and goes, “Hey, that’s the manager. We should probably, like, pay, guys.” She mumbles, immediately softening up like a potential ban from this shop would be the end of her world.

The other two girls swear in unison, with ‘Miley’ ripping a wallet from her pocket and throwing out a few dollar bills and an accidental thirty-dollar tip onto the table.

Didn’t she say she forgot it?

Cleo smirks as the three scramble out of the shop with their pathetic takeout box. Etho runs over to the cafe's doors and turns the lock.

As soon as the Click! rings through the now empty store, Etho collapses onto his knees and covers his masked face with his hands, throat tearing as he screams his palms. “Fucking finally!”

Skizz’s tired grin slips off his face, and he slowly walks back to the coffee machines, going back to cleaning them, looking a lot more depleted than he did thirty minutes earlier.

Grian lets out a loud sigh. “God, how do you do this every day?”

Cleo shrugs. “All in a good day’s work.” Then, she snickers, “Pays good, too... Hey, Xelqua, could you help us clean the mess these girls left? You and Etho can have something from the pastry rack for free in return.”

Etho immediately gets up from the ground. “Right away!”

Grian stares after Etho as he hurries to grab a cleaning cloth and a spray bottle. “I thought he bailed on you at the altar? How come you two have such a good friendship?”

Cleo laughs heartily, “He’s scared of me, really. But I’ve got some respect for him, and I think it’s mutual. Sure, I might hate him a bit for being a pathetic pussy, and dipping with half of my money, but I kind of get it.” Then, they lean in and whisper, “I should have known better with his reputation around love anyway.”

“I see…” Grian muses. “Makes sense, I guess.”

“Oh! I’ve been meaning to ask,” Cleo starts, a sparkle filling their eyes as she looks back at Etho before asking, “Has Etho gotten a new victim to swoon over him yet? I hate to admit it, but he’s quite the shiny lure for these kinds of things. Someone has had to have taken the bait by now.”

Grian giggles, “You won’t believe it when I say it.”

Cleo nods, “C’mon… Tell me.”

“I heard them chatting a bunch last night when I crashed at Etho’s place, and context clues and maybe just a little bit of Watcher magic have helped me decipher that right now, it’s Etho and Joel.”

“Etho and Joel?!” Cleo gasps, “I thought they were a fad! I thought that they were just a Double Life thing.” Cleo quickly clarifies when Grian stares back in confusion at the mention of Double Life. “Double Life was one of the LIFE games. Etho and Joel were paired because the gimmick for the season was soulmates that shared injuries. How do you not know this?”

“I did like the first-ever LIFE game, and then I kind of just gave the rest of the job to my past situationship-slash-coworker,” hums Grian, thinking back to the janky, first edition of the LIFE seasons.

“Interesting…” Cleo muses. “Well, Etho and Joel, is it? Sounds chaotically fun! Recently, they’ve constantly been joking about giving each other neck kisses and hickies, so I guess I should have expected it.”

“Oh, ew.”

Cleo chuckles, “I know, right?!” She takes a quick glance at a clock on the wall before patting Grian on the shoulder. “Okay, good talk. Stop standing there and help Etho out, or no free food for you.”

˚⊹ ‧✩⋆⁺₊𓆩✦𓆪⋆⁺₊✩‧ ⊹˚

Grian and Etho walk out of the store at the same time, Grian happily munching away on a pink, chocolate-coated dessert, like a ball of moss dipped in wax but with much more give, on a stick, with sugary sprinkles that Cleo gave him for mopping the floor.

“What’dya get?” Grian asks Etho, frowning as a few pearly sprinkles fall onto the ground.

Etho’s holding a cup of coffee, a brown bag wedged between his middle and ring finger. “I already had this coffee before. It’s run way cold by now, but that’s fine.”

Grian snorts, “No, I mean your pastry.”

“Oh. It’s like a… Strawberry croissant thing. A bit sweet for my taste, but Joel mentioned liking it once.”

“Joel, again? Can you talk about someone that isn’t Joel?” he sighs, rolling his eyes.

Etho shrugs. “Some might call me obsessed,” his eyes crinkle into a smile as a breathy bark of laughter escapes him. “And to them, I wouldn’t say they’re wrong.”

“God,” Grian groans, feigning a gag.

Etho chuckles, gaze flickering to the other side of the street for about ten seconds before snapping his head forward and picking up the pace, completely silent.

Grian, instead of catching up with him, grabs Etho’s arm to stop him from running and squints at the spot Etho had looked at a few moments before.

Well, now that Grian looks closer, it’s less of a spot and more of a person. A person with medium-length hazelnut hair, emerald green eyes, and a shiny scar stretching across half his face.

“...Scar?” Grian whispers, frowning.

He had earbuds in, a hollow expression on his face as Scar solemnly walked in the opposite direction Grian and Etho were, carrying a plastic grocery bag in one hand and his phone in the other. Scar’s wings were on full display, all the effort of hiding them thrown away.

Etho tugs on Grian’s grip. “Stop staring and get moving. If he sees you with me, or Cleo, or anyone, the flame called ‘your life’ will be violently snuffed out.”

“Even the weakest of embers will burn.”

Etho pauses, breath faltering before ripping himself away from Grian.

Grian takes this time to glance back at Scar, and–

He was staring right back.

Grian jumps, dropping his dessert onto the ground. It splats depressingly as it hits concrete. “Shit,” mutters Grian, turning and hastily walking down the sidewalk, the small reward already forgotten.

Etho easily matches his pace, shifting the items in his hands around. “I told you,” he hisses.

He, for some reason, looks back, just for a second, because that was apparently a great idea in Grian’s head.

Scar’s brows are furrowed, a scowl on his face as he stares after Grian and Etho. Grian immediately starts running after Etho.

Are you fucking stupid?

Fine, I admit that was my fault.

I hope you still know how to fight without the full support of your abilities.

Grian bites his lip, slowing to a walk as he and Etho turn a corner.

It’s alright. Like you said, I could always kill him.

Chapter Text

Apparently, Grian could not just kill Scar.

Why? Oh, well, it’s because Grian hadn’t seen Scar since Grian had locked eyes with him in front of Boardwalk Coffee.

And it wasn’t just him who hadn’t seen Scar.

Scar, or his previously secret identity of HotGuy, had recently grown a massive fanbase on social media. Hell, Grian had seen a few customers walk into Boardwalks’ wearing merch of the guy.

Naturally, darker fan accounts popped up with his newfound fanbase, and one of the most popular was a blog which had exact dates and times of sightings of Hotguy or Scar in LIFE.

It was pretty damn accurate, Grian realised, as Skizz tilted his phone screen towards Grian, showing the account. The person manning the blog had managed to find data of Scar from the first game of Scar’s generation, Last LIFE, to a few weeks ago at the supermarket. But it stopped there.

Rumour spread, and the whole internet was scrambling, trying to figure out where the man was.

It was honestly worrying, Grian. He teetered on the edge of going up to Scar’s apartment, trying a welfare check, or killing him, like the voice in his head suggested so often.

Grian was at his last shift of the week, spacing out as he pumped exactly thirty-six drops of vanilla into a person’s latte before slapping a sticker onto it and writing a little message, per company policy. The coffee shop had barely opened before a crowd of tired, middle-aged adults filtered into the building.

He was excited to work a job like this at first – Money and being able to hang out with people who let Grian be himself? It was a dream. 

But, after about three days, all of his enthusiasm had slipped into the drain, routine getting too stiff for even Grian’s own liking.

It was simple, really. He’d wake up early, similarly to when Grian had just moved in with Scar, watch Etho eat breakfast for about thirty minutes before teleporting both of them into the building. Sometimes, Etho insisted that he drive there, so Grian would teleport himself. He was still never able to warp to the right place, usually ending up a kilometre or so away from the store, but Grian can walk.

Other than at closing, Grian never really got the chance to talk to anyone, other than himself, and the other part of himself, who was somehow also seeming to get bored.

Scar would have made it a lot more entertaining. He thinks, spraying whipped cream into a cup chock full of mocha. Even if Grian barely understands any of it, Scar still manages to make whatever he drabbles on about mesmerising.

Really, Scar could just stand there, and Grian could get lost in his forest green eyes, warm as a summer night. All defined muscle and slick hair, innocent, with a perfect drop of conivingness to bring it together.

Grian has to face the truth, though. Scar wasn’t perfect. Is that his fault? Behind a mask of sickly sweet smiles, charming looks, and sugar-coated songs was a storm of what Grian could only describe as self-destructive.

What does one do while watching their love tear themselves apart? Sparking a fire and letting it scorch them to ashes, screaming for help in an echo chamber.

Grian wishes he could go back, god, he’d do anything to try again.

But would he really?

A sickening feeling swirls in his chest, weighing him down like iron attracted to a magnet. Grian doesn’t like it; he wants to tear it out of the glowing hole in his chest. He hadn’t felt this horrible in what feels like ages.

It was an emotion, sure, but for some reason, Grian couldn’t put a name to it.

Does he feel guil–

Grian.

The voice nearly gives him a heart attack. Grian can only watch as the plastic cup slips from his hand while carrying it to the pickup table, the lid popping off as iced coffee spills across the floor. Whipped cream splatters sadly onto the tile.

Etho, who was manning the register, jumps and barely stops himself from slipping on an ice cube. He grips his shirt and the small table top so harshly that the customer in front of him looks like they’re debating calling an ambulance.

“Sorry, sorry!” Grian calls out, half to Etho, half to the waiting customers watching. He slinks past the mess on the ground and calls to Skizz, who immediately salutes and grabs a mop.

Dude. What the fuck was that?

I don’t know. Got tired of you thinking about Scar. You told me you were going to kill him approximately three weeks ago, and you still haven’t done it. I’m tired of having a consciousness, already. Hurry it up.

It’ll take a few more days, alright? I don’t like you either, but Scar is basically in nowhere land. Now shut up, or at least provide some sort of mild entertainment.

I’ll take the former.

Surprisingly, the voice decides to shut up. Grian tries to hold back the jeering thoughts as he quickly remakes the mocha.