Chapter Text
When Grian started his marine biology degree, he didn’t think he was going to study merfolk—or Anthropices vulgarus, for nerds—he honestly saw himself in some far off aquarium teaching kids or on a fishing boat catching things. He never saw himself here, signing up for the Merfolk Rescue Center as a permanent ‘handler’ and researcher.
But here he is, on a random Thursday, carrying buckets of dead fish for a misunderstood species on the brink of extinction for a very hefty wage. He honestly doesn’t regret a thing, surprisingly enough. The mer are quite kind in nature and if you treat them with basic decency they warm up to you fairly quick.
And he gets to see Mumbo’s amazing mustache everyday, that's a plus.
Sharp ear piercing whistles fill the halls, as it does every day. Pearl is bored, again. Usually Gem is the one to throw fish at her until she shuts up but she’s home sick. If he was evil, he’d dump the job off to Mumbo but the last time he did that Pearl dragged him in with her. He doesn’t want to hear him whining about another suit ruined. A marine biologist wearing a suit, that man is ridiculous.
Her whistling somehow gets louder, the fish is still defrosting. “Pearl! I’m coming! Have some patience, please.”
“No!”
Ah, and another thing. Mer are much like toddlers. Small vocabularies and far too much attitude.
“No, no, no, no, no!” Pearl shouted, flicking her tail, he could hear splashing water on the walkway.
“Pearl, screaming at me won’t make the fish defrost faster!” Grian can already feel a headache coming on, and he’s just clocked in.
“Yes!” Pearl says, stumbling over the ‘y.’
He groans, he wishes they just had fresh fish.
Pearl starts up her whistles again and Grian finally gives up, picking up the bucket of half defrosted fish and walking over to her tank. “Fine! Have your fish, you won’t like it.”
Usually he dumps the whole bucket into the water, but then he’d have to clean up frozen fish, so he tosses her one. It’s mostly frozen.
She catches it with her teeth, trying to tear into it before pausing. Grian raises an eyebrow. She spits it out into her hands, staring at it for a moment. “Cold.”
“Oh, yeah! I wonder why!” Grian tries to snatch the fish back, crouching down to get to her level, she retreats and gives him a warning growl.
He stands back up, outraged, “What! You can’t even eat it, what’s the goal here!?”
“Mine.” She growls, the little beast.
Grian groans, “Yes, yours! You can’t eat it! Cold!”
Pearl grumbles. He doesn’t understand how Gem deals with her. She glances at the fish and then back at him, suspicious, “..Mine.”
“But, you- y’just– fine! Alright, whatever.” He turns around and walks out of the room going back down the hall putting the fish bucket back in the warm water. He mumbles under his breath about impatience as the other bucket finally finishes. He picks it up and taps the fish on top to check the temperature, it squishes. Gross.
He walks past Pearl’s room to Cleo’s tank, he knocks on the doorframe.
“Fish delivery!”
“Oh, hello, G.” Cleo turns to look at him, they’re typing into a form, he recognizes it, he has one to fill himself. “Have you finally got Pearl to stop screaming?”
“Yes, and now she’s claimed a rock hard fish as her bounty.”
Cleo laughs, “Why would you give her a fish!?”
“She was being impatient! I wanted to show her why she has to wait! She just.. wouldn’t give it back,” Grian says, he walks over to the pool's edge.
As he talks, Cleo turns around and begins typing again. “Well, what do you expect? It’s Pearl!”
“Not for her to hold it hostage! She’s like Gollum, mine, mine, mine. My precious inedible fish.” Grian says while leaning down to tap the water.
Cleo bursts into another fit of laughter, leaning back in her chair, “Oh god! Don’t tell Gem that!”
“I won’t tell her if you don’t,” Grian mumbles. He feels the water ripple against his hand, a shadowy figure approaches from the farthest corner of the tank. “Ah, Joe’s awake.”
“He is? He didn’t even say hi to me, I’m hurt.” Cleo says, fake sulking.
A head breaches the water, long brown hair floating along with it. The mer speaks with a warm, kind tone, “Hello, Grian.”
“Hello, Joe! I have fish, I hope Pearl wasn’t too loud for you.” Grian says, tilting the bucket, fish pour into the water. Joe pokes at a few before picking up the tuna.
“Pearl is..” Joe pauses, trying to find the words, he picks a few scales off the fish before he finds them, “Loud always.”
“Aw, I’m sorry Joe, I’ll tell her to quiet it down, alright? Pearl, quiet,” Grian says.
“Loud is.. not. Bad. Loud is not bad. Pearl is.. not bad,” Joe says, it sounds genuine.
“Well, I’ll tell her- Pearl, I’ll tell Pearl to be quiet for my sake then!” Grian says. Joe flicks his tail, his body language is reading as amused. He’s glad Joe isn’t bothered by Pearl's screeching, he’s not sure if she’ll ever quiet down. They need a mer vocab class or something.
“Good morning, Joe! Were you hiding in your cave then? Took you a bit to pop out,” Cleo says, spinning her chair around to face the pool.
“Cave, quiet. Cold,” Joe says while he continues to peel the fish, spots of red appear in the water as he eats. Grian’s nose wrinkles at the sight.
“I see,.. yeah the cave is quieter, huh?” Cleo says, she smiles, no teeth. Joe nods before slinking back under the water.
“Not a big fan of people today,” Grian says with a sigh, picking up the now empty bucket, “I’m going to feed the monster before she starts a one mer revolution.”
Cleo giggles, “Yeah, please, spare the rest of us.”
Grian goes down the same hall again, the fish should be done now, if not a little warm. Maybe Pearl would like warm fish. He tugs the bucket out of the water and goes back down the hall again.
“Pearl! Fish delivery!” He walks over to the pool's edge as a figure comes launching out of the water. Pearl lets out a trill, she claws at the edge of her pool. “Jeez! You would think we never feed you, excited aren’t you?”
He lifts the bucket to dump the fish out before Pearl sets bones at his shoes. “There-, there is no way. You ate it frozen!?”
He picks up the little bones, he studies them for a moment. It's a halibut. They only feed them halibuts on Thursdays. She ate the fish frozen.
“Fish?” Pearl says, letting out a few chirps. Grian blinks at her, right.
He tilts the bucket and four fish fall out, all of different sizes and species. The code used to be to give them the same type everyday (mostly because it’s cheaper to buy in bulk) but the mer have their preferences, and after two refused to eat multiple days in a row management gave up on that whole idea. Pearl pounces on the fish, ripping her teeth into it and shredding the meat off the bones, she makes little happy growls as she tears into them. Grian’s stomach turns. He quickly looks away to fill out his sheet.
He fills out his name and ID number along with what he’s done today. He answers question after question until it reaches the section about the mers health. “Pearl?”
She makes a questioning trill.
“How are you today?” There is a long pause between them, Pearl hasn’t been with them for very long and she is very slow at picking up English. Gem has tried a lot of different tactics and nothing has really stuck.
Pearl’s tail flicks. Annoyed, or frustrated—it’s hard to tell with her, “Again.”
“Same or different?” Another pause.
“Diff.. ant.” Her fins flatten, she knows it’s not right but isn’t sure how to replicate the sound.
“Diff-er-ent. How is Pearl today? Is Pearl good?” Grian says.
She lets out a bright whistle. “Good! Pearl is good. Fish cold.”
Grian smiles, he makes sure not to show any teeth. He types an answer into the form. “That’s good. Is Pearl sick? Hurt?”
“No,” She doesn’t pause for that one, he swears it’s the only word she knows.
“That’s good,” Grian finishes his form, sliding it into his folder, “Alright, Pearl, you ready for the community tank?”
Pearl chirps at him, tilting her head.
Grian sighs, glancing around before hesitantly saying, “..Friends?”
Grian covers his ears as she lets out a shrieky trill. She does a few laps of her pool before chirping at him.
“Yes! Friends, yes!” She shouts.
He presses the button on Gem’s desk to open the door to the tunnels; they connect all of the pools together to one central pool. It was originally made for rehabilitation practices but became a community pool when they realized smaller pools were better for swim training. Pearl shoots underwater and scrambles through the door before it's barely open, Grian rolls his eyes, picking up his heavy messenger bag. He starts down the hallway back to his beloved office.
He pulls out his phone on the center's app. He clicks on his to-do list, form one of.. two complete? Why are there two? He lets out a confused hum as he opens the door to his office. He’s only taken up Gem’s shift and the last mer he had got released last week. He clicks on the file, it’s labeled “New Intake Form.”
Huh.
He looks at the forms information, usually intake has a list of allergies along with behavioral issues the mer may have. It’s there to make sure whoever gets the mer can properly accommodate them, ten questions at most. But this form has nearly thirty.
He looks through the questionnaire, his confusion increasing the further he goes down.
Have you ever watched America’s Got Talent? No?
Do you have an interest in Gossip News Outlets, such as..? No??
The rest of the form follows that same line of interest.
“Why would anyone need to know this?” Grian mutters.
He studies mers not celebrities! Grian closes the tab, he doesn’t even care to read the rest of it. Grian sighs and readjusts his bag as he shoves his phone in the biggest pocket, he didn’t have anything else to do today. He can worry about the form later. Maybe when he had to go watch over the community pool, Mumbo takes mornings, the last time Grian had mornings the mer got together and broke into an unauthorized tunnel, he still blames it on the coffee machine being broken.
He pushes the door to his office open and sees.. his supervisor leaning against the wall.
“Hello, Ms. Wallace, would it be rude if I ask what you’re doing here?”
Grian likes Ms. Wallace, she only ever really comes to check things are running smoothly and their jobs are being done. Or assign people to new mers. Mostly dangerous mers.
..Oh, dear.
Ms. Wallace smiles, answering cheerily, “Hello, Mr. Sol. Not rude at all, I hope you pardon the intrusion. I had important matters to discuss with you and I know you’re busy with Ms. Taylor’s duties today. Do you have time to answer a few questions?”
“..The questionnaire?” Grian says.
“Oh, no. That’s just a formality. I already know you’re going to be assigned this me,.” She says, still just as cheery.
Grian stands silently for a moment glancing around the room as if the mer would appear from thin air. “..I have time.”
Ms. Wallace claps her hands and pulls out a chair. She starts speaking, tone more serious, but no less cheery, “The intact form was given to specific researchers at your facility, you lot have the best track record for rehabilitation and this is a very sensitive case. We want no personal biases to impact the mers treatment during their stay. This is a secretive case not to be shared with other personnel or peers. You may talk about nonspecifics but most information must be kept quiet. We understand if you do not feel comfortable taking on Merfolk with bite records but we ask you to keep an open mind during the Merfolks transition to our facilities.”
Huh..now they’ve really piqued his interest. “I can’t tell anyone?”
Ms. Wallace smiles, “Not a soul. And no, not even Mr. Mumbo.”
Grian huffs. He clears his throat to cover it, “Is there anything else I should know?”
Ms. Wallace pulls a folder out of her large purse and flips it open. She reads a few lines and says, “We don’t have much information on the mer except for what the police have given us. The mer killed his owner after the owner stabbed them in a fit of rage. The witnesses say the mer is very gentle and has never acted in that way before. The mer has no known medical issues. That's all that they can give us legally.”
“..And you want me to take care of them?” Grian says, setting his bag on the table. Ms. Wallace hands him the folder.
“We need you to take care of them, you are the best suited for the job.” Ms. Wallace says.
“Ms. Wallace,.. I really think Cleo would be better suited. I’m.. not really known for being gentle.”
She folds her hands in her lap, “I don’t think the mer needs someone gentle. They need someone stable, stern, and determined. Cleo and Gem already have their hands full and I have plans for Mumbo.”
“..Plans?” Grian asks.
“They are not finalized so I am not at will to discuss them.” She says.
Grian huffs, not even attempting to hide it this time, and takes a moment to think, he doesn’t have any new mer, and most of his time is spent helping the others take care of their duties. It’s been a few weeks since Cub left…
What’s wrong with a little danger?
“I’ll,.. I’ll do it. Fine, sure why not.”
Ms. Wallace brightens, she passes him another folder. “Thank you so much Mr. Sol! This will be a permanent position, here’s your contract for the new title and raise. It should be processed as soon as you sign.”
Grian’s eyes widened, looking through the papers, “You didn’t mention that!”
Ms. Wallace laughs before turning to leave the room, “Anyone would take the job for money, not everyone would take the job to help the mer. It’s meant to be an extra perk, not the reason! Do be sure to come to my office when you’ve looked it through. I have a meeting.”
He takes a glance at the new contract, his wage will increase by ten percent!? What!?? Oh, Mumbo is going to be so jealous. Ooo, that’s a big number. He hears the door open as Ms. Wallace leaves.
“Uh, goodbye, Ms. Wallace.”
“See you soon, Mr. Sol.” The door closes behind her.
He pulls his chair back to his desk and places the folder under the lamp. He takes a pen from his bag and begins reading through the contract. It’s the same as the old one, ‘they are not responsible if you are hurt while interacting with Merfolk’ yadda, yadda, and a bunch of legal jargon for being responsible if a mer is neglected under your care, if directly going against code, and a lot of other things he’s since memorized. At the end of his contract there is a new section. If he is going to be responsible for the permanent residence of a highly dependent case, he may have to answer legal questions regarding the mers physical and mental conditions and will be the main handler for this mer until he resigns. A lot more responsibility than he originally expected, but he is confident he can care for a mer well enough by now. Cub was fairly easy to care for, minus physical therapy, he had to make his own exercises for the type of mer Cub is.
Grian begins to write a list, first a physical examination, hopefully while the mer is still under sedatives. And then he can get a tank, probably a medical one if the injuries are that severe. Ah, he has to ask Ms. Wallace if he’s getting a new office. He shares this one with Mumbo.
And he has to let Cleo and Gem know he won’t be able to help them as much anymore. If he has to do intake then the next few weeks will be spent trying to find out what the mer actually is like under all the posturing. Hopefully it won’t take too long.
He keeps looking through the folder, if the mer had an owner they most likely named them or gave them some type of routine. But he looks for a name or even allergies but he finds nothing, not even a hair color. A lot of information is blocked out.
Grian sighs, what a hassle. According to Ms. Wallace the mer has injuries, stab wounds, none of which are listed. The mer also had an owner, whose name is scribbled out.
They really aren’t giving him a lot to work with here.
He pulls out a ring binder and a stack of paper. He punches holes into the paper and attaches it to the binder, he takes out his own folder with holes already punched into it and puts his case files into them. He also secures his list onto the back of the cover. He writes ‘secure documents, please do not open’ on the front. All of his coworkers won’t touch it if it's labeled. Someone got fired for that a while ago and everyone knows when to mind their own business. He continues to sort his files, being sure to separate his contract from everything.
The door creaks open.
“Grian, is Pearl usually this rowdy? I swear something was in her fish today!” Mumbo says, as he pulls out the chair next to him.
“I think Gem being out for the day inspired somethin’ in her.” Grian says, while continuing to label folders. “Is it already eleven?”
“No, Pearl chased me! She crawled out the pool! She was very determined.”
Grian finally looks over at him, eyes wide, poor Mumbo looks disheveled. “She chased you?!”
“Yeah! I was actually scared for my life for a minute.” Mumbo says.
“Wait, who’s watching the pool now?” Grian says.
“Cleo, she took over for me. I promised to do their incident report if Pearl keeps acting.” Mumbo says, pulling out his own documents. Grian hums in acknowledgement as he finishes signing the contract, highlighting a few questions he wants to ask Ms. Wallace when he next sees her. Mumbo tries to glance over his shoulder, Grian covers the papers with his hand. “What do you have there, G?”
“Secret, work secret unfortunately.” Grian says, while trying to smother his grin. The allure of secrets never fails to get a researchers attention.
“Oh? A work secret?” Mumbo raises an eyebrow. “Ms. Wallace hasn’t gone mad has she? You can’t keep a secret for the life of you.”
Grian glances at him, now fully grinning. “I’ll have you know Ms. Wallace has given me a very pretty penny to keep this secret.”
Mumbo slams his hand on his desk, leaning over him. “What, you got a raise?! How much do you make!”
“Wouldn’t you like to know weatherboy,” Grian deadpans.
“Grian!”
“Classified!” Grian sings. Twirling out his chair and starting down to the hall, he keeps his binder tucked under his arm, he doesn’t want to tempt the poor man. The door opens with a creak, really needs some oil on this thing.
“C’mon! Not even gonna spill a lil’ bit?” Mumbo says, almost whining.
“Nope!” Grian says, popping the p, the door slams shut behind him. He imagines his groan with a smile.
He hums as he walks down the hall, satisfied with his meddling. Ms. Wallace’s office is a long ways away. He looks through his binder and reads through his highlights, formatting all the notes into cohesive questions. It’s better to be efficient with this sort of thing.
The facility itself is very large, Grian works in the left wing attached to the beach, formally called the ‘Medical Wing’ and it’s in charge of rehabilitation and general research. The hall he’s taking leads to the main building where all three wings connect. Ms. Wallace’s office is in the right wing, where offices and meetings take place. Grian doesn’t have to go to many meetings, he’s very thankful for that. All he has to do is submit forms that get discussed during the meetings, a very happy compromise.
Grian walks by the common room to the offices, waving at a few familiar faces he passes. He passes by many office doors, some with their own individual waiting rooms. He makes it to Ms. Wallace’s room, he knocks on the door. The rooms are noise proof, very good for privacy, very bad for knowing if he has to knock again. He rocks on his feet debating if it's been long enough to knock again before the door cracks open. A man with a police vest pokes his head out and fully opens the door, he tilts his hat to Grian before walking off. Huh.
“Mr. Sol! That was quick, have you made your decision already?” Ms. Wallace says, fully opening the door and welcoming him in.
Grian walks with her as he speaks. “It was a fairly easy decision to make, Ms. Wallace. Although I do have a few questions.”
Ms. Wallace sits on her couch, Grian takes up a single couch across from her, the coffee table is littered with documents. A few seem classified, he makes a point not to snoop.
“Ask away, Mr. Sol,” She says.
Grian pulls out the contract and sets in on the table, facing her. He points to a section he highlighted. “You said this was rehabilitation, right? Here it states this is a permanent position and he’ll be assigned to me for the foreseeable future. I looked through the documents you gave me but they don’t really provide any clarity.”
“Ah, unfortunately we have no idea what this mers treatment was like before they were taken into government custody.” Ms. Wallace shifts, clasping her hands together and folding her legs. “This mer could be moved to a rescue or they could be in our care for as long as possible. I don’t believe rehabilitation is possible, just based on the information I know. It’s been kept in captivity since it was an adolescent and perhaps even younger. It’d be up to you what the next steps would be.”
Grian nods, letting out a sigh. Since adolescence, that’s at least a decade, maybe even more. He flips the page to another highlighted section. “This bit says I may have to talk to the police, does that mean I have to make a statement or be interrogated–? I’m not a big fan of police, Ms. Wallace. I may be worse than Mumbo on that front.”
Ms. Wallace chuckles, “No, no, just a statement, I could even record it to hand it off to them or make your statement for you. They just need reliable information.”
He nods his head again.
“I’m fine with everything on the contract, it seems fairly standard. I’m just,.. a bit lost on my responsibilities?” Grian scratches the back of his head, he’s not sure if this question is redundant. “What do you expect me to do? There’s no guidelines or rules or–”
“The only thing I expect from you is to take care of this mer through any means necessary. The mer is technically owned by us. So feel free to be as eccentric with your methodology as you wish.” Ms. Wallace said, her lips turned into a slight frown. “I don’t know much. And what I do know is not very helpful to your cause, but this mer is hurt. And I trust you to mend that.”
Grian nods, signing the contract before sliding it over to her. She gives him a bright smile and tucks it into one of her many folders.
“The mer comes in on Monday, you’ll be changing tanks,” Ms. Wallace says. Monday!? That's soon. A few days to get his stuff together before many many weeks of overtime to get the mer settled. At least he has this weekend off.
“Your main office can still be shared with Mr. Mumbo but proper accommodations will be made in the tank room. Feel free to choose any tanks in the basement, your new access card should be here tomorrow.”
“The basement?!” The basement he’s been begging to look around since he’s got hired? The basement with all the fancy equipment and blacked out windows?! The basement!?
“Yes, I know it may be a bit uncomfortable down there but it provides a lot more accommodations for both you and the mer.”
He shoves down his grin and fixes himself into professional neutrality. “I understand, I’ll do my best with the space.”
Ms. Wallace nods, “Your cooperation is appreciated Mr. Sol.”
Grian makes a hum of agreement and then frowns. “Is there really nothing I could get on the mer?”
Ms. Wallace shakes her head. “Anything they do have is currently in police custody.”
Grian sighs, it’s more of a pouty huff. Stupid police, making his job harder. “I’ll be going then.”
“Thank you for your time, Mr. Sol. I hope the mer won’t be too much trouble.”
Grian lets out a laugh, he stopped wishing for that a while ago. He gives a polite goodbye and leaves through the door, starting down the hall to make the walk back to his office.
He has to tell Mumbo he’s switching tanks, and borrow his camera. If they don’t have pictures he can take some himself! He works better with pictures, mer wiggle quite a lot, and they’re bitey. He’s going to be in charge of medical procedures as well, huh? He drops his bag on Gem’s desk. He has to put the second round of fish on the warmer thingies. That’s a lot of responsibility. Usually he had Mumbo as a reliable second opinion. Would asking hypotheticals count as releasing information–?
“Hello, wage traitor,” Cleo quips. His head snaps to the door, she’s leaning against the doorframe with their arms crossed, Mumbo peaks his head in from around the corner. “Climbing the ladder while we get bit by Pearl, huh?”
“Mumbo, you tattled!?” Grian shouted, betrayed.
“I–I didn’t mean to! Pearl had an incident and we were just talking and–”
“Doesn’t matter if he tattled!” Cleo interrupts, hands on their hips. “You’re switching departments?”
“What!? No! I’m staying in rehabilitation, what are you on about?” Grian says, nearly offended.
“You’re already making the maximum for your position. They can’t give you a raise and keep you as a handler!”
Grian blinks. “...I didn’t think of that.”
“Grian!” Mumbo says.
Cleo sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’m not sure what I expected.”
“No, but, I’m still doing rehabilitation! I’m just moving tanks,” Grian says, waving his hands with the words.
“Wait, so what would your position be now? There’s not anything they can move you up to. Are you, what, the new Ms. Wallace?” Mumbo says.
“Woah, woah, woah, I could never be Ms. Wallace, look at me! And again, I’m still doing rehabilitation! They can’t have me be both.”
Cleo raised an eyebrow. “So what are you doing?”
Grian’s mouth clicks shut. “I can’t tell you.”
“Aww, come on!” Mumbo whines.
“Still doing rehabilitation, makes more money than a rehabilitator, but not the new Ms. Wallace..” Cleo says, planting her hands on their hips. “What kind of fucked up offer did you take?”
“Oi! It’s a good offer.” Grian pouts.
Cleo shakes their head.
“Have they given you the contract?” Mumbo says.
“I’ve already signed the contract.” Grian says.
“Oh, G,” Mumbo says, his tall frame drooping. “He’s already signed his soul away Cleo, it’s too late to save him.”
“Oh, shove it, I don’t need saving,” Grian scoffs and turns to go grab the buckets, because he actually has a job to do, unlike some nosey scientists. Two sets of footsteps follow him. “Wait, who’s watching the community tank?”
“Ah, Pearl, uh, kind of–” Mumbo says.
“Bit me.” Cleo raises her right hand, it's tightly wrapped in gauze.
He sets the buckets into the warm water and checks the time. Should be done in twenty minutes. He winces with the words as he turns back to them. “Ouch, what happened?”
“Started playing ring toss, I think she got a bit excited, handed it back to me and took a bite right under my pinky. It wasn’t deep but I needed to evacuate the pool.” They gently rub their hand and goes to sit in the folding chair by the fridge. “Should’ve seen Mumbo’s face when he was cleaning it out.”
“There was so much blood.” Mumbo says, shuttering.
“You have surgery scheduled tomorrow!” Cleo says.
“I didn’t expect it!” Mumbo shouted.
“We work with oversized toddlers with knives for teeth,” Cleo says.
Mumbo huffs, crossing his arms.
“Do you think it’s because Gem isn’t here? Might be messing with her nerves,” Grian says.
“Maybe? She seemed really happy to see me. She just,.. bit me.” Cleo shrugs and crosses her arms across their chest. “She didn’t have any signs of aggression, just went for it.”
“That’s scary, what if she bites me! She’s already chasing me about like I’m one of the rings.” Mumbo says.
“I’d also bite you if I was a mer,” Grian says.
“I feel like you have bit me,” Mumbo says, squinting.
“Okay, boys let’s keep our kinks outside of the workplace.”
Mumbo lets out an offended gasp as Grian bursts out into laughter.
“As if I’d ever let this menace bite me! I’d get some button pushing disease or something–”
A piercing shriek fills the facility, all three researchers jump before slumping down in familiar disappointment.
“Pearl.” Grian sighs. He lifts up his watch to check the time, he lets out an affronted shout. “It’s half an hour before we even feed her! How does she know!?”
“Maybe she can smell it?” Mumbo says. Grian notes that he should start closing the door when he’s scheduled for feeding time.
Cleo stands up and glances at the both of them before turning to leave. “I’ll go check on Joe. Be prepared for war, G. I’m going to bring artillery with me next time. Or Mumbo will tell her himself, whatever comes first, we both know he can’t keep a secret for the life of him.”
“Noooo.. c’mon!” Grian whines, the door shutting behind Cleo. He can still hear muffled shrieks from the hallway. He sighs before muttering, “Consequences of my own actions..”
Mumbo lets out a nervous chuckle before shuffling to the door as well.
Grian glares at him. “Not a word to Gem, you hear that, Jumbo?”
Mumbo quickly leaves the room shouting, “I make no promises!”
“I’ll set Pearl on you Mumbo!”
The door shuts with a click. Grian huffs and checks his watch. Seventeen minutes to go, not even his lunch yet. This is going to be a very long day.