Chapter Text
By the time Rouxls drifted back into consciousness, his new coffee had long gone cold, and Spamton was already distracted. He was definitely busy doing something concerning, judging by the loud banging coming from the other room.
The thin Darkner groaned, peeling himself off the beanbag. How late was it? Had he really fallen asleep during the day? That was unlike him.
He stretched his arms to the ceiling, squinting over at the clock. Still broken, as usual- what was it with Spamton and mechanical devices? Was the man incapable of being delicate?
...Quite likely, considering his size and the sharp edges of his metal limbs.
“Spamton?” He called out blearily, trying not to yawn. “Art thou there? How longeth was I asleep?"
The banging stopped immediately, as the taller Darkner poked his head through the doorframe with a grin. His signature glasses were once again perched on his face, almost completely opaque in the dull light. Without the presence of his square pupils, he was oddly unsettling, Rouxls noted- they made him look so much more friendly.
“[[Cards!]], YOU’RE AWAKE! AND R R RIGHT ON TIME TOO, I’VE NEARLY GOT THIS [High-Quality Audio Recording Device] RE-ATTACHED, WHICH IS GOOD CONSIDERING [[Ladies And Gentlemen, The Show Is About To Start!]].”
Rouxls winced. Hearing Spamton's voice at full volume right after waking up was something he would hopefully never experience again, considering he was fairly sure his ears were bleeding now.
Spamton squinted over at the broken clock before aggressively pinching his glasses at the nose and peeling them off, tossing them onto the ground nearby. “ I SWEAR I’M COLOUR-BLIND WITH THOSE THINGS ON. ANYWAYS. LOOKS LIKE YOU WERE [Out And About] FOR [2.50$] HOURS, PAL. I JUST LET YOU [[Having Sleep Troubles? Call Now!]], YOU LOOKED EXHAUSTED.”
Ignoring how he'd managed to tell the time with that clearly dysfunctional clock... it was nearly 2 o'clock? He'd been asleep longer than he'd thought.
Spamton bustled into the room, casually dropping the hammer he’d been holding onto the coffee table with a clang. So that was what had been making the banging noise, then. He hadn’t… nailed the fallen microphone back into the wall, had he?
Rouxls sincerely hoped not, but before he could ask, Spamton had plunked himself on the couch across from him, leaning over with a decidedly concerned look on his face. Or, at least, as concerned a look as he could produce, considering his mouth was permanently carved into a grin that was nothing short of manic.
“SPEAKING OF. ARE YOU. ALRIGHT? YOU AREN’T. USUALLY. THIS [Try Now!]- [[@!$@#$!% #@#$]]. TIRED. I MEANT TIRED. SORRY. I CAN’T REALLY [[Turn Down The Volume Right Now, Kenny, I Swear To God-]] RIGHT NOW.” Spamton's teeth clashed together with an awful grinding noise as he spoke, struggling to get his words across as clearly as possible.
It had always been a struggle for him to communicate sometimes, truth be told. Rouxls had long since gotten used to interpreting what the garbled interruptions to his speech meant, and the way he spoke in short, stuttery bursts when he was really trying to say something important.
Rouxls smiled, waving his hand dismissively. “Tis’ fine, Spamton. I understandeth what thou art saying.” He yawned. “Truth be told, I did not rest well last night- felleth asleep on the futon, whilst I was pondering worrisome things, which never makes for good reste, thou knowest. Other than that, though? I'm alright, I promiseth.”
Spamton nodded. Before Rouxls could fit another word in edgewise, he was already up like a rocket and halfway back into the living room.
“LOOK, I HATE TO [[Make Like A Tree And Leaf]] YOU, BUT IF YOU'RE [[Fine Dining!]] I REALLY GOTTA GO- AFTERNOON SHOW STARTS AT [[2$ Tuesday!]] SHARP AND I DON’T WANT TO [[Upset The Crowd]] [[Cause A Kerfuffle!]]. PLUS, I STILL GOTTA ADD. A FEW MORE NAILS TO THAT [[@$@#]] MICROPHONE. YOU’RE [Always And Forever] [[Welcome!!!]] TO STICK AROUND HERE, THOUGH, SHOW OR NOT. I JUST WON’T BE ABLE TO [[Chatterbox]] FOR A WHILE," He said, turning back to Rouxls with an apologetic look.
Spamton stamped his foot, the corner of his left eye twitching comically. “DA- Damn. Just let me say damn, for [God]’s sake,” he choked out, looking over at the smaller Darkner again as if worried he was going to be freaked out.
To be honest, Rouxls was long past the point of being unnerved by his friend’s confusing manners of speech. Sure, it was well appreciated when he was capable of speaking at more… conventional volumes, but even if he was a tad loud, there was nothing wrong with that. Although he had to admit, it was clear to see why those who hadn’t met him before would be a tad afraid, especially considering Spamton’s appearance.
“Of courseth, of courseth! I shall likely departe soon if that is the caseth- I wouldst not want to get in the way of thy production. Wouldst thou like to meet again sometime soon, preferably during a time when I can stayeth awake?” He asked, stifling another yawn. He was still a bit drowsy, to be completely honest.
Spamton nodded enthusiastically. “Sounds [[Excellent! Wow!]]. I’ll make sure to plug it into my busy schedule.” He cackled, gesturing over to the calendar he’d fixed onto the wall. It wasn’t set to the correct year or month, Rouxls noted, nor were there any important dates written on it.
“[Any Day Now] works for me, if you couldn’t tell.”
“Duly noted. More importantly, though, can thou just not be bothered to use a proper calendar, or do thou truly believeth that it is still 2002?” Rouxls snarked, eyes gleaming with mischief.
Spamton’s rectangular pupils rolled in their little LED display, and he put one hand on his hip dramatically. “It’s called being fashionably late, [You Rule! Congrats! Click Here For Your Prize!]. Y’ever heard of it? Probably not, since ya dress like a [[Feel Like A Loser? We Can Help!]]. At least you’ve got the late part down pat, though, considering you look like a Victorian dandy.” He laughed, the sound surprisingly sharp in the otherwise quiet room.
“And thou art simply not dressed, it seems. And here I thought that publicke nudity was a crime!” Rouxls retorted with a grin.
Spamton winced. “Foul play, you [[Little Sponge]]. Not my fault my [Specil] robot body isn’t suited for [Suits For Sale!] anymore. Although… I have been talking to [[Top 10 Tunes!]] about that. [[New And Improved!]] designs and stuff, to make it a bit easier to live in this [Sweet New Battle Bod] of mine.”
He glanced over at the clock, glowing eyes displaying startled spirals for a moment. “Speaking of! Really gotta go, it’s nearly [[Showtime, Baby!]].”
And with that, he grabbed the hammer, and shot out the door, heading straight back into the recording room.
Rouxls stretched again, stifling another yawn. It was time for him to go, he supposed. He appreciated Spamton’s offer to let him stick around, but quite frankly, waiting alone in his house while the show went on didn’t seem appealing, plus he still had important work to attend to. Such as…
He frowned. He really didn’t have much to do today, did he? Visiting Spamton that morning had pretty much been his only plan. Asides from… visiting King.
Rouxls took a deep breath. Was he really considering doing this now, of all times? Sure, it was far less nerve-wracking than it had been before, knowing that King had had no ill intent in asking to see him, but he was still a little nervous. How exactly did one go about enjoying a casual visit with a friend they hadn’t spoken to casually in years?
He sighed, making his way to Spamton’s bathroom and shutting the door. If he was doing this, he was doing it properly, style and all. It wouldn’t do to show up looking like he’d just run a marathon. He glanced over at the mirror, brow furrowing in disappointment. His hair was a mess, not to mention the suit- he’d gone and got it all crumpled. That was his best finery, too- a shame. He’d have to iron it out later.
He stole a pen and paper to scribble down a message before he left Spamton’s place, leaving it on the beanbag.
“Deareth Spamton, my dearest apologies again for falling asleep during Social Houre. Twas’ not intentional, I sweareth- as you are likely aware, I am usually much finer company. I must go now to visit King ( longe story, will explaineth to you later), but I look forwards to our next visite! I shall be-eth sure to bring the yarn. Take care, Rouxls.”
Perfect. With a note left behind and a plan in mind, Rouxls slipped out the back door and made haste for the castle once more.
As soon as he returned to his chambers, Rouxls felt relaxed, allowing the peaceful ambiance of his living room to soothe him. It was lovely to be out and about, sure, but little could beat the familiar comfort of his beloved room- the only thing that had ever been remotely similar had been his old shop. Which, like the rest of the Dark World from whence he came, was long gone. Or rather… repurposed, he supposed, the space and major landmarks of the old world simply combined with Castle Town itself.
Should he truly wish to revisit the old Card Castle, all he had to do was walk the distance, though the idea was unappealing to him now. Most of the Darkners from his world had been content to leave the old Castle and other structures behind, instead finding their peace in the new comfort of Castle Town. Now, the land was mostly only visited by those feeling some nostalgia for the past, or those who enjoyed a good hike through the woods.
Surprisingly, he found that not many Cyber City denizens shared the same sentiment- hence the ever-bustling population of the relocated city to Castle Town’s far left. In fact, he’d been surprised Queen hadn’t elected to stay in Cyber City like many of her citizens, considering the lavish home that awaited her there. Although she did seem to rather enjoy the concept of being the Lightners’ “wacky roommate”, as she often said.
Not that she didn’t make use of the mansion anymore, though. It was now an unofficial vacation home of sorts, where pretty much anyone who knew her was welcome to stay while they visited the new Cyber City. Rouxls had made use of it several times himself, thoroughly enjoying the ability to explore the city without petrifying for once.
The big city glamour was appealing, sure, but Rouxls still generally preferred the more quiet charm of Castle Town or even the remnants of Card Castle and its surroundings.
Peace and quiet had always been Rouxls’ preferred ambiance, despite his rather loud demeanor.
As such… would it truly be so bad to return to Card Castle sometime? He mulled it over as he re-ironed his suit, taking care to demolish even the slightest crease that blemished the dazzling blue fabric. It was nicely nestled into the woods, and rather uninhabited; he imagined it would be easy to leave Castle Town to set up shop there. He’d have all the space he wanted, and an entire castle at his disposal to boot.
By all accounts, living there would be idyllic. So why did the idea seem so unappealing?
He shook the idea, leaving his fresh suit hanging over the ironing board as he went to brush his hair. That was a query for another day. For now, he had the comfort of his expansive apartment to enjoy, and a visit to prepare for.
After once again detangling his hair, Rouxls decided perhaps a little makeup wouldn’t hurt- the goal was to look as put-together as possible, after all. He grabbed a thin brush from the container on his bathroom counter, carefully sweeping a small amount of pale glitter over his eyelids before refreshing the clear mascara that kept his eyelashes in perfect form.
“Perfecktione.” He hummed, grinning at his reflection half-heartedly. “Absolutely gorgeous! Why, King ought to be grateful I’m even visitingeth him!”
The words sounded pretentious, even by his standard. Why was he so goddamn nervous? Queen had already told him it wasn’t that serious, for card’s sake.
Regardless, his stomach churned with nerves as he slipped back into his suit, pinning his favorite silver broach to his collar with fumbling fingers.
Showtime, as Spamton would call it.
Rouxls held his shoulders high as he stalked through the dungeons, ignoring the interested mumblings of the other former kings as they watched him pass. He’d never really spoken to any of them before the uprising, in truth. And after? Too busy following King’s orders and taking care of Lancer to even wonder where they’d gone.
The dungeons were far less sparse than the last time he’d been down, he noted with a small smile. Queen had definitely been involved, as well; after all, who else would decide to decorate with large blue pots and large, keyboard-shaped art pieces?
He stepped through the stone arch leading to King’s area of the dungeon, straightening his sleeves nervously as the bars of his cage approached. He was a Duke, Rouxls reminded himself. Dukes were not easily fazed. They were calm, and suave, and-
“Kaard. What’s the occasion? Here to tell me the tale of whichever poor soul you’ve turned traitor on now?” King drawled, rising to his feet from his place against the bars. He grinned menacingly down at Rouxls, raising his clawed hands to the cold iron.
It had been a while since he’d last seen Rouxls. He’d popped in for a moment when Queen had first visited him, no doubt to try and brag about the strange friendship they had formed, but since then he’d made himself scarce. Not that he minded, though. So long as Rouxls was still taking good care of Lancer, he didn’t care whether or not he bothered reporting back to him.
And from what Queen had been telling him recently? Lancer was faring quite well. So there was no issue there, asides from Rouxls’ traitorous nature, of course. He grimaced at the thought, baring his pointed teeth in a dour frown.
Rouxls startled, snapping his head over and meeting the intimidating gaze of the taller Darkner. “No? I mean, no! I mean, er, of courseth not, sire!”
He paused, frowning. Why would he ask such a thing, unless he was merely joking?
“Thou knowest why I am here.”
King sneered over at him, the spade-like whip of his lower mouth sneaking through the bars to poke Rouxls’ shoulder.
“If I knew why you were here, I wouldn’t have asked you, now would I?”
Rouxls swatted the whip away, pointing an accusing finger at his former friend.
“I already haveth! Thou art the one who summonedeth me, and I have arrived, as planned! So either quit joking withest me, or I shall leave at once, you heareth me?” He squawked, features contorted with irritation.
He hadn’t been this mad since the last time one of Lancer’s strange friends had eaten one of his houseplants. But oh, did King ever bring it out of him. Making him nervous, stressing him out, and dragging him out in his finest wear into the dungeons in the middle of the day, only to heckle him and pretend to not understand?
Oh, to think he’d actually believed the two of them could be friends again. He should be ashamed of himself. But right now, he was just angry.
King looked genuinely confused now, his tongue poking lightly out of his mouth as he contemplated the Duke’s words.
“...You were told that I summoned you?”
“Yes! That’s why I’m here, thoust fool! I thought you might actually wante to seeth me, but it seems I was mistaken, as usual.” Rouxls snapped. “Tis’ what I get for listening to Queene. Pray tell, art thou this rude when she visits as well?”
King scoffed. “You speak as though I asked for her to visit me. No, she shows up whether I would like her to or not, that much is clear. Not that I can complain, though. I will admit, the company is a nice break from the boredom of this place. Even if said company is irritating.” He rolled his shoulders, trying to suppress the part of him that wanted to tell Rouxls that his company would be welcome as well.
So what if he was entertaining, and they’d been friends once? He’d dug his grave when he decided to side with the Lightners, and betray him in the process.
“I will admit, however, that I am surprised that you came after Queen told you I wanted you to visit.” He said bitterly. “What did you think I’d do?
Rouxls couldn’t look him in the eyes. “I don’t knoweth, to be honeste. But…” He sighed. “I miss the past. Perhaps some part of me believedeth we could returne to such things, naive though it was.”
King sighed, running a clawed hand over his hood in frustration. “It’s not as if I don’t miss the past as well, Rouxls. But the future comes first, and I’m not willing to accept a future where the Lightners are allowed to run rampant through our world and leave us abandoned again, unlike you.”
Rouxls’ wide eyes narrowed. “Then it is truly a goodeth thing that these Lightner children bring no such future, is it not?”
“That’s what they’d have you believe, I’m sure.”
“Because surely if they meanteth us harme, they would make thy people happier than they hath been for years, and provide thy son with the friendship he so desperately missedeth for years, correckte? I think not, King. Thou hast been deceived, not I,” Rouxls hissed.
King growled, spade whip lashing angrily around him. “I fell for the Knight’s lies, and this I will admit. But I will not stand idly by and let you tell me that those wretched people have done right by us, not after what happened all those years ago.”
Oh, now that was just ridiculous.
“Wouldst thou truly claim that these kind Lightner children are the same who abandoned us all those years ago? They barely even know of our past with the Lightners, and their intentions have already been demonstrated to be nothing short of pure. For card's sake, they even spared thee out of adoration for thy son, when we both knowest full well they could have struck both thou and I down where we stood.”
“Even if you had a point, why should I listen to a traitor? You’d talk well of anyone if they were on the winning side,” King spat.
Rouxls shrugged. “I woulde be the first to admit that I pick the winner of wars to befriende, yes, but thou art ridiculous if thou truly thinkest I would side with anyone I believedest could possibly pose a danger to thy son, or thee for that matter. They art not dangerous to us, King. They mean well.”
Silence fell in the grim chambers for a moment as both Darkners glared at each other, fuming. King’s brain roiled, as the implications of everything Rouxls had said hit him at once.
Kaard had never once raised a hand to the Lightners in any serious way, save for when he’d sent K. Round after them, and King had the sneaking suspicion that that had been to try and scare them away from the throne room. He’d always had a soft spot. Didn’t matter what his orders were, he never took his efforts to keep the Lightners out past his poor excuses for games and puzzles to distract and trap them. He was about as threatening as… well, a card. Devastating in a game of poker, but little else.
And Lancer. It was true, he had always looked out for Lancer. It was one of the reasons he had entrusted the child’s care to Rouxls in the first place, after all- dubious loyalty asides, there was one person Rouxls would never betray, and it was him.
Perhaps there had been a time when Rouxls would have refused to betray him as well, he thought.
That time was likely long gone.
“...you forget. Once, I was thy closest companion, was I not?” Rouxls asked, his voice wavering. “And though we hath fallen victim to distance, thy son has always been dear to me, though I lament his irritating moments often. I shalt always careth for him, and if it would be goode for him for us to fight the Lightners, I wouldst have in an instant. But they… they have made everyone I knoweth happier than they have been in years. Including me.”
“Kaard.” King’s voice was eerily composed now, as taut as a bowstring.
Rouxls hesitated, fiddling once more with the cuff of his sleeve.“...Yes?”
“Say I believe you about these two. How do you know that these three aren’t merely an exception? That their arrival doesn’t signal the return of more Lightners, who could possibly do us harm?”
Rouxls looked at the ground. “I don’t, or rather, I cannot. You knoweth that. But it has been nearly a full eight months since they arrived, King, and I am allowingeth myself to hope that these Lightners have returned alone, and with pure intentions. I understandeth thy hesitance… thy bitterness. But that Knight took things too far, and I believe we both knowest that now. I chooseth to believe in those who have never given me a reason to doubt.”
That was… a surprisingly rational response. Whether or not those damned children meant well was irrelevant; obviously, they weren’t ambassadors representing every Lightner that stood above them in that light-cast world.
Had they even known about the Dark World before they’d gotten here? Rouxls had said they didn’t know much about the history of the Light and Dark, after all.
Perhaps… he had been wrong about them, if not Lightners as a whole. Were the people of that world even aware of what they had done to the Dark all those years ago, anymore? It was so hard to tell these days.
King sighed, slumping back against the bars, hands over his knees. Was this what it had come down to? Him, imprisoned, forced time and time again to doubt everything he had so firmly known for years? These days he could scarcely consider the days before his imprisonment without a pang of guilt, and it made him sick.
Hearing that Lancer was better off than ever without him… the Lightner children by his side, filling both him and Kaard with hope for the future that he had never once felt in the long, cold days since the disappearance of the Lightners before them.
That he had never managed to instill in his own people, after years of promising them revenge and freedom.
He huffed. Maybe Kaard was right about some things, after all.
“...The Knight’s plan was a lie. I understand that now. When Queen first told me, I scarcely believed it, but… well, the way our worlds are built upon each other, it makes sense. I would have condemned us all to a life of stone, had those children not stepped in.”
He snorted. “Not to say they don’t still have an agenda of their own. But… I do find myself hoping that you and Queen are right, Kaard. For all of our sakes.” He chuckled, a surprisingly warm sound that rang through the small dungeon space before it lapsed back into silence.
He couldn’t bring himself to say any more. Not about the past, or how he, too, missed what they had once had. About how curious he was as to why Rouxls had even been willing to try and speak with him, despite their clear disagreement on so many fronts.
If they were even disagreements anymore.
“Right,” Rouxls said, fidgeting with his nails. He’d been picking the thin sheen of polish he’d coated them with off at the cuticle. A nervous habit, one he’d picked up many years ago. “I… assume that since thou didst not want me here in the first place, that I should leaveth now, correckte?”
King stayed silent, both mouths frowning as he pondered what to say. After such a tense conversation, would it be best to just part ways?
...Would Kaard even come back? Did he even care if he did?
Rouxls sighed, trying to ignore the tears welling up in the corner of his eyes as King neither turned to face him nor responded. This was how it was going to be now, he supposed. No need to waste time being upset about it, or trying to show off to King like he had before when claiming to be Queen’s henchman. It changed nothing.
He had just decided to leave when King spoke next, in a voice that was surprisingly quiet.
“...Only if you want to, I suppose. If you wanted to, we could play a game of chess, I suppose. Queen gave me a set just the other day, as if I could somehow play it on my lonesome.” There was no bite to the taller Darkner’s words now, just a light rumble of irritation that accompanied his deep, warm voice. “Just do me a favor and tell her I’ve finally made use of it, will you? Perhaps it might content her to know that I enjoy it.”
Rouxls nodded quietly, stepping back towards the bars. “How shall we playeth? Reaching through the bars would be possible for me, but…”
King interrupted with a scoff, as he stood up once more, heading over to the section of his chambers hidden from the dungeon’s outside view. His bed was back there, alongside all the other rooms of his “cell”. A quick search of the sparse cabinets nearby provided the chessboard; still untouched and perfectly packed into its box.
“You can still teleport, can you not? I hardly think bars are much trouble for you.”
“Well, yes, but, er… thou dost promise to not attempt to fight me, right? I understand thou might be irritated with me, but-”
King shrugged, already back by the small table that sat next to his water bottle. He pulled the board from its box, enjoying the quiet clack of stone on stone as he slowly began preparing the game, one piece at a time.
“That would accomplish nothing. I’ll take a page from your book, so to speak, and settle for beating you thoroughly at chess.”
“Unless you think you’re better at it than me?” He grinned over at Rouxls, who responded with a nod before bursting into light, reforming next to the other man with a flustered look on his face.
“As if! I shan’t be bested by thee, believeth me- thou shall regret saying that!” He blustered, moving to stand by the light set of chess pieces.
They were nearly the same shade as his hair, King noted. When they’d first met, Rouxls hadn’t been quite as bright yet, the tips of his hair still tinted a pale shade of blue. Now, his hair shone a bright white- most likely literally, considering Darkners of his species were often fluorescent.
...Minus the bitter tension that still hung plainly between them, it was almost like old times.
“Well?” He said, sweeping a wide hand towards the board. “It is your turn first, Rouxls. Show me exactly how you plan on winning this game.”