Chapter Text
Scarab was trying to pick up the empty cans off the ground, where they were thoughtlessly discarded by someone, but he still struggled to interact with the third dimension, so immidietly after succeding in gathering one or two they would unceremoniously fall out of his grasp.
He didnt know how long he had been doing this, but it was long enough for the constant faliures to ruin his composure. He was getting visibly frustrated. So visibly that Prismo decided to finally aknowledge it.
"Hey Scrabby" He started, with his usual lighthearted voice though something simmilar to concern could be heard seeping through. As if he was some sort of child that needs consolation, he thought angrily. "Maybe take a break, you dont have to pick them all up"
At that Scarab scoffed
"Its my job to clean them up." He reached for a can, different then the one that just fell down.
"Nah dude seriously, leave them, don't worry about it" Prismo insisted, waving off with his hand.
Of course Prismo would have no regard for any responsibilities, he has always just done as he pleased and got away with it.
The thought appeared in Scarab's mind and he couldn't help to get worked up over it.
Prismo was acting unreasonable and it was ridiculous. The only way he could make himself useful here was to keep the Timeroom looking presentable, why else would he be here. It almost made him wonder...
He sighed deeply and discarded the only can he has managed to hold up for more than a few seconds. Sliding to sit next to it on the floor, or rather the angle between the floor and the wall; and rested his forehead in his palm.
There was no other purpose for him here if not to work, so that's what he did. Work to make up for his mistakes. Work to prove he is still worthy enough to for it. Work to stop himself from thinking about it. About all of this.
And if someone asked him what he meant by that he would just gesture vaguely to the world around him.
Well he wasn't working now.
Was he here just to suffer mentally as his punishment? Because if yes, it was successfull.
Was that Prismo's plan? To take revange by tearing away, first, his dignity, now his sanity. Would he be this cruel?
Surely. What other reason could there be...?
The ex-god auditor raised his head reluctantly to find Prismo still staring at him from the other side of the room.
He told himself he wasn't going to ask it. It didnt matter, he didnt want to know.
And yet,
"Why did you..." the words, uncertain, formed on their own before he could stop them. Prismo's eye focused on him, waiting for the finished question, but the Wishmaster must've already known what it was going to be.
He stopped himself, staying still for a while, directed his sight at a different wall. He didnt want to ask it. He didnt want to know the reason, whatever it was. He really wanted it to not matter.
He suddenly felt extremely exposed. His mind started to race as to find an exit from this situation and his thoughts finally settled on something else. With an exhale he turned back to Prismo.
"Do you regret bringing me here?"
The anwser to that would be easier to swallow. It was obvious, they already argued constantly, so the anwser would be anything but suprising.
The Wishmaster, who a while ago seemed quiet in thought, almost somberly, so unlike him, quickly perked up.
"Of course not!" Prismo said with so much confidence and no hesitation, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Well that certainly was not what he expected.
"...right" Scarab cleared his throat, trying to hide his desorientation, which frankly had the opposite effect.
"Do you think I regret it?" Prismo looked at him interrogatively.
"No, nevermind, forget it." He spoke, the usual vigor in his voice now back. He hastily turned away to break eye contact.
"I anwsered your question, so it would only be fair if you anwser mine" Prismo let yout a dry laugh. The attempt at humor fell flat and only irritated Scarab further. Of course he wouldn't take it seriously.
Seeing how his attempt to lighten the mood failed, Prismo decided it would be better to just drop it and back down.
"Hey, if this is about the cans, you really don't have to worry about that, you know crossing dimensions is hard. I'm sure you'll get better soon. Well, I never asked you to clean them up in the first place anyway, so, uh, it's not like you have to do that, I'm sure you'll have other tasks to do. I mean-" He was beginning to ramble. He always did when he got nervous.
"It's alright. Prismo." Scarab snapped, finally putting an end to this embarassing spiel. Prismo stayed quiet for a while, not knowing what to say.
"...Yeah"
Silence fell between them. Each one trying not to look at the other. And they just sat there, like that, for a long insufferable while.
"I'm going to go into the lower room" Scarab spoke, startling Prismo with the sudden sound. He got up and turned to descend the stairs, not waiting for an anwser.
"Sure man, have fun" He wasn't sure Scarab was listening. Even if so, the words came out so quiet he might've not been able to hear them.
Prismo sighed, of course he had no need for air or breathing but it seemed like an appropriate response at the moment.
He didnt know what to do to make Scarab feel more welcome here. What was he thinking? That he'll just happily agree to live with him. Forget all that happened and go back to how it was *back then*? When they weren't at each other's throats all the time?
That was in fact, exactly what he hoped would happen.
Prismo's shoulders slumped. He should've known better.
Even if it wasn't going how he wanted it to, he wasn't lying when he said he didn't have any regrets.
It was better than sitting in silence in this so still and so dead Golbforsaken room.
Alone
Laying under water he couldn't even touch to experience, surrounded by room temperature beer, with no energy or will to do anything.
Scarab brought back the feeling of life he didnt know he'd missed so much.
His compliants and prickly comments even if annoying, at times ruining his good mood, were better than the silence. He wouldn't even be in a good mood in the first place, if not for Scarab.
Prismo glanced towards the staircase leading down where his companion disappeared to.
Why couldn't they just get along.
⫸⫸⫸
The intention was to take a walk to blow some steam off. Just that there wasn't anywhere to walk to. The corridors were too exasperating to navigate, moving up and down the steps of the stairs leading to them felt weird and itchy and the time waves, in all their magnificence, were, headache inducing.
So he was here, standing among Prismo's stupid pickle shelves. The green light iluminated the room. It was still dim enough to give a sense of overall calmness.
He stood there for a while, pondering, before deciding his next actions.
He moved closer to the shelf, picking one jar and moved his arm forward and let his shadow climb up the glass side. He grasped and his shadow only moved on the surface of the still, standing jar.
He sighed. It's nothing, he'll just try again.
Approaching the jar from the other side now he put his hand on it again and closed his eyes to better focus.
He propably looked so dumb right now, but that didn't matter because there could be heard the sound of movement. He quickly opened his eyes and sure enough the jar was tilted in the way he pulled. With newfound confidence he picked it up from it's resting place and pulled closer, holding up in front of himself.
Examining it, he turned the jar to read the etiquette 'Hot & spicy' weren't those Prismo's favorite? Thinking now, does he even eat these?
After that he rotated it again to look at the contents. Yep, these were definitely pickles.
His hand trembled and he felt his grip slip, suddenly the jar hit the ground. He winced and stepped back with a yelp as the glass shattered.
The sound of the crash echoed through the room followed by silence acompanied by the unpleasant ringing in his ears.
He cleared his throat nervously and looked to the entrance. He hoped Prismo didn't hear that.
It's not like he wasn't going to find out, there wasn't really a way for him to clean up the evidence and he wouldn't bother trying to either way.
He turned to leave but got only a few steps away before sliding down on the floor in resignation.
There was nothing else to do than just sit there.
And at that moment he felt just utterly and completely defeated.
⫸⫸⫸
"There you are" Prismo's voice ringed behind him. Scarab raised his head to look at him.
The other was standing in the entrance, as if waiting for Scarab to aknowledge him. When he did, Prismo entered the room to walk uo to him.
Then he noticed the pickles scattered over the floor.
"Awh, my hot and spicy" he muttered. "Did you break them? he looked down to Scarab sitting on the floor "Its okay if you did, I have a lot more, man."
Scarab groaned.
"When I left you there I did so with the purpose of being left alone." He pointed out in a brash manner.
"It's been a while though, I thought that I might check up on you"
"You thought" Scarab chimed in mockingly.
"Hey, come on." Prismo complained. He was right, that was a cheap jab, but right now he was getting too overwhelmed by negative emotions and letting it out by insulting Prismo felt close to relief. Though the feeling got quickly flushed over by more anger.
"I just wanted to see if you're doing alright" Prismo stepped closer.
"I am" he grumbled.
"This" He pointed to the pickle remains and then to the ex-god auditor positioned across from them "Doesn't look alright to me."
This is exactly what he needed right now. An annoying Wishmaster standing over him. The audacity of Prismo to come in here and tell him what he was and wasn't. He wanted to act all concerned now? Scarab felt his anger intensify.
"Just leave! For Golb's sake!"
He swinged up towards The Wishmaster, managing to knock his hand away.
He felt that electricity again and it burned over his whole wrist, spreading up to the forearm. It hurt like reaching elbow deep into a flaming sun.
Prismo hissed in pain grabbing the fabric of his being where he got hit. He propably wasn't used to pain as much, so It must've stung twice as hard. Scarab couldn't help but take a little satisfiaction from the thought.
Now he was visibly mad too.
"What is your problem!?" Prismo yelled still rubbing his forearm.
"My problem is you! Go away." He got up from his sitting position. It was hard to be intimidating with the other towering over him.
"What are you so upset at!? Ever since you got here." Prismo let go of his sore spot to throw his hand in front of Scarab's face, causing him to wince back. "Why are you such an asshole all the time!?"
"Because I am sick of you! I'm sick of how you act and I'm sick of you pretending we're still friends"
"Why can't we be friends? Why do you think I'm sooo horrible?" Prismo retorted condescendingly, leaning closer and Scarab wanted to push him away again.
Why was he so horrible? Sure he could name a few reasons.
He felt all the thoughts, he has been holding onto, surface, all things he wanted to throw in Prismo's stupid face. So what if he was his boss now? He didn't deserve any respect for it.
"Because you. Always. Get away with. Everything." Scarab grited through his teeth "Everything always works out for you! Not everyone has that luxury. And you don't understand that!"
"Sure, I understand. And I'm so sorry that you got punished for trying to destroy a completely valid and authorized universe" Prismo replied with more venom then he could ever muster durring their previous fights.
"That's not what happened and you know it" Scarab hissed, feeling his whole body revolt in anger "And I'm sure that if it were you in my place everyone would jump in to say how you shold be forgiven. Orbo would never allow the possibility that 'cool guy Prismo' did something wrong"
"But I didn't do anything!" Prismo objected.
"You never did anything?" Scarab snapped back and threw his hand up to point at his face, this time it was Prismo who winced "You disregarded your job, you broke all the rules to play with your stupid fanfiction, you acted like you no responsibilities at all, you tried to stop me from fixing your mistakes-
-and you left me" His voice cracked at the last part, he didnt mean to add it, but in this whole turmoil of emotions he slipped up. As soon as he realized what he said he backed away.
"You- "
"No! No, thats not what- no, I get it." He felt embarassment flood his entire body flushing out any of the desire to keep fighting. He sat back down.
"I never meant to hurt you"
"I'm not hurt" Scarab spoke with his voice lowered in offence "I'm-" He threw his arms up feeling the frustation pile up, trying to find the correct word "Ugh! Mad."
"Then Im sorry you're... mad?" That was a shitty consolation and Prismo knew that the moment he said it.
Scarab's eyes squinted with aversion.
"Just leave, Prismo" He replied, his voice now cold lacking the heat of the feeling that consumed him right before.
Prismo stood there unsure, as if actually considering doing that.
He sat down a few steps beside Scarab
Appearently he did not intend on leaving.
"...Okay you do have a point" The Wishmaster admitted.
Scarab sneered, but all the malice in him had evaporated.
"How do you do it?" Scarab spoke after a moment. He let out a deep exhale "That everybody loves you." He spat out the word 'loves' like it burned the inside of his mouth.
"They don't love me." Prismo objected, "They just like me... sometimes. We're on friendly terms. Most of them don't come over unless I throw a party... You know, people would like you too if you were nicer."
"You don't get it" Scarab scoffed but it lacked any harshness. He expected Prismo to take offense to that, but the other only looked at him with that blank expression. The cyan light of his eye flickered with this expectation, as if saying 'then make me get it'.
He rubbed his forehead with iritation, this conversation already felt like a headache. Was he really going to spill all of his problems onto Prismo?
...Glob, this guy is gonna be the end of him.
"I have a reputation to uphold" He started and Prismo almost rolled his eyes. Scarab shot him a dirty look, which made the other instantly change his expression to an apologetic one. "I need people to respect my authority. I cannot just chitchat and be all friendly, like you, with all the people I might one need to eradicate. It's a part of the job, and everything should be kept proffesional. And it's not my fault none of you dullards seem to understand it." His voice was full of resentment. "There are consequences for me failing and I will not compromise on my work for some idiotic parties or meet ups."
"But... you're not a god auditor anymore" Prismo spoke slowly, unsure if it was the right moment to cut in, or if what he says would result in another shouting match.
Scarab just sighed. That's right. He wasn't a god auditor. Not anymore. All of his previous work was for nothing, because of one mistake.
"I should've just faced the punishment the boss chose for me, not rely on others to rescue me from my own mess like some kind of incompetent fool." His tone changed as he spoke each word with more revulsion. "And you're a fool for vouching for me" He hissed, Turning back to look Prismo in the face, feeling that spark of anger again. "Did you do it to get back at me? Did you want to punish me yourself? Do you think the most fitting punishment for me would be from your hands? Is that it?"
"What? No!" The Wishmaster shuddered shocked at the suggestion.
"Then why else!? You expect me to believe you would just take me in with open arms after I tried to destroy your works and get you fired?"
"Okay, yeah, what you did was kinda messed up, but that doesn't mean I hate you!"
"Well maybe I hate you"
"Do you?" Prismo stared at him with that damn genuineness in his eyes. And it made him naseous.
Why couldn't he just be a jerk about it. Why was he so nice, after everything they had done to each other. Why couldn't he just hate him? Wouldn't that be so much easier?
Maybe then Scarab could really despise him. Maybe he wouldn't feel so conflicted about it.
Because it was so hard to keep up all the rage when underneath it boiled dozens of other feelings he did not want to adress.
His chest deflated feeling all of the energy that previously fueled his anger extiguish.
"no."
Neither of them said anything. It seemed they both fell into their own thoughts.
Now that the adrenaline from the argument passed he felt a twinge of shame for his previous outburst. He was a god auditor, or used to be, he shouldn't give in to his emotions that easily, thats what got him in this situation in the first place. At the corner of his eye he saw Prismo's arm still half raised in front of his torso and he felt something else. Guilt.
"Sorry I slapped you" Scarab broke the silence.
"I barely even felt anything" The other anwsered, having that smug smile wash over his face. Only if he hadn't subconsciously reached out to rub over his forearm again.
"Undoubtably." He mumbled and they both fell quiet again.
"You always could've visited" The Wishmaster started quietly.
"Oh yes, because I was so welcome here" Scarab retorted, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
Prismo sat up and turned to face Scarab again.
"Yes you were! Just because of one argument didn't mean we weren't friends anymore!" He exclaimed "We could've... talked it out"
But they didn't, they made their choices, was there a point in thinking about it now.
He took in a deep breath.
"After you stopped coming over, it got kind of... boring in here, for a long time. So I thought we could go back to the way it was. That we could start spending time together again." The Wishmaster took a gloomy pause to think over his words, shortly after he perked up.
"-And Its not because I'm desperate or anything, like, I'm not lonely, I have other friends and we used to hang out too and I am perfectly fine spending my time alone-" He added quickly. The offense in his tone at something that was not even voiced was amusing and... kind of endearing.
"I just- I enjoy having you here. I'm serious." Prismo said, with more firece than before, making sure that Scarab would listen "I convinced Orbo to get you here not so I can 'personally torture you' or something. I really missed hanging out with you. And you don't deserve any of those horrible punishments, man" His voice was again saturated with compassion but it didn't feel patronizing, It was warm and genuine.
Maybe it always was.
It has been a long time since Scarab talked with someone like this, he wouldn't have known.
Prismo reached out, his hand hanged in a stopped motion between them for a while and then he hesitantly placed it on Scarab's shoulder.
This time it didnt feel like a lightning carving through his body. There was nothing harsh about it, the electricity was there, but it was delicate and... comforting.
"You're not a bad guy Scrabby" Prismo said locking in their eyes "I don't think you are" he added quietly.
"Do you really" Scarab's resignated voice resounded, but there was something else, a hint of hope?
"Yes, Scrabby- Scarab" He corrected himself. He knew Scarab wasn't that fond of the nickname, he didn't call him that with any malicious intent, sometimes he would just slip up.
However now he needed it to be sincere. He needed Scarab to know he was sincere.
"Believe me I think you're great and I really do want you to be here"
Scarab raised his hand and rested it on his shoulder, where Prismo previously placed his. He felt their surfaces overlay and the static intensified.
It made him feel as if his heartbeat quick
ened and all of these feelings buried, pushed down in order to be forgotten surface, like they had been threatening to do for the past weeks. But there was no point in trying to fight it now.
And for a moment he was back in his old body, in the timeroom, durring one of their meetings, the feeling in his chest more vivid than ever and the strong desire to stay here for as long as he could. He couldn't. He couldn't compromise on his job performance for things like friends or any unprofessional relationships.
But now?
He looked up at Prismo, back in the present. There was no hint of lie or mockery on his face.
"It's fine" And it really was. He let out an exhale but halfway through it turned into a soft laugh. Was it just the ridiculousness of this whole situation, or something else "I trust... that you do"
⫸⫸⫸
And so he found himself sitting on the floor next to Prismo with the laptop in front of them once again.
There weren't any urgent matters to attend to for a while so they've decided to work on some drafts in order to kill some time.
They talked. Then they let the silence fall over them. As Scarab ran out of any ideas worth mentioning he let the Wishmaster take liberty with this part of the creation.
Prismo squinted his eye towards the screen as he scrolled through the character creator, looking for the right clothes to choose and whatnot. Scarab lost his interest in what the intentions for the character design were and directed it to the door of the Timeroom. Looking out into the vast, shimmering cosmos unfolding outside, it seemed just as stoic as the atmosphere inside.
Prismo was mumbling, though not about anything in particular, just parts of sentences, cut off strands of thought, he didnt seem to be aware of it.
Scarab didn't mind.
It was pleseant, he couldnt remember the last time he had been given a chance to relax like this, work always had been absorbing every bit of his being.
The echos of the worries and obligations of his past life were ever so faint and insignificant among the calm hum of his, quiet now, thoughts.
The ex-god auditor leaned his shoulder on his companion's, feeling the warm, tingling sensation crawl up his arm where their forms intertwined. The Wishmaster tensed up slightly at the touch but leaned into the contact shortly after. It was sure that if he were to look up right now he would see a soft smirk forming at the other's face.
Scarab closed his eyes. He had no choice but to stay like this, right here, at Prismo's side, for all eternity and for once the thought felt more like a blessing than a curse.
⫸⫸⫸