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On a faraway planet, in a galaxy recovering from destruction, a fuzzy orange spoon was leaping over rooftops. It wasn’t very hard since everything was in close proximity. Doors were connected by small hallways, forming a labyrinth of residences. The only way inside the maze was in a giant cul de sac on the north end of the planet.
This open space allowed outside aliens to enter the chambers through a variety of buildings. Each exposed house was styled differently, much like all the rooms that followed them. Wander was perched on an entrance with a floral pattern, hibiscus to be exact. He scanned the cement circle for anyone who might have needed help. Be it a life threatening crisis or a simple untied shoe, Wander would be there to lend a hand.
Meanwhile, his loyal pal Sylvia was asking a waiter what their restaurant had to offer. It was a convenient little shack, two doors down from the flowery front door Wander was looming over. The waiter answered cautiously, “We seem to be out of most of our specials for today, but we do have the ‘Varbely Minced Taco Kabobs’ with a ‘Purple Blorped Juice’ sauce.”
“Eh, it’s fine. I’ll have that then,” Sylvia replied lazily.
The waiter managed to leave unnoticed, as she was preoccupied reading the ‘Daily Galactic News’ (DGC).
She hadn’t read it in a while. There wasn’t any reason to, she already knew what would make the cover. “Dominator Flees, Heroes Prevail!”, It hadn’t changed for several months, but the story got old quickly. ‘Hopefully we won’t have to deal with her again,’ Sylvia thought to herself. ‘M’ not sure I could handle it.’
The waiter soon returned with the meal she had requested. A tray of violet tacos with a mysteriously meaty sapphire filling, pierced through by a long stick. It seemed appetizing enough, it was certainly a large order.
She thanked the waiter briefly before grabbing at the stick, taking a large bite out of the first few shells. She savored the flavor for a while before gulping it down. The Zbornak couldn’t connect the unknown filling to anything she’d tried before...
‘ It’s not exactly ground beef, but it’ll do. ’ Sylvia was about to have another taste, but she stopped mid bite to notice the large shadow looming over her.
A giant skull-ship had blocked out the sun. Dark windows made from red stained glass seemed to suck up all remaining light. An ominous clank was heard overhead, followed soon by an opening jaw and a large tongue crashing into the center of the cemented ring. Panic soon arose amongst citizens, screams being drowned out by a nasally voice of high authority.
“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,” Peepers spoke over a microphone, “YOUR PLANET IS NOW UNDER THE CONTROL OF THE OMNIPOTENT OVERLORD,THE MONARCH OF MAYHEM, THE DUKE OF DREAD, THE ONE AND ONLY… LOOOOORD HATER !”
“Oh jeez,” Sylvia muttered, being deprived from her meal by a familiar chaos. “Here we go again.”
The Watchdogs marched in orderly lines, dispersing amongst the crowd of key-people in front of them. Lasers firing, people running in all directions, it was complete anarchy.
Despite this sudden threat, Wander’s smile had grown ten-fold.
His friends were coming to visit him! Sure, this planet was in danger of being conquered, but Wander just knew he’d be able to convince Hater and the Watchdogs to change their minds! And if that didn’t work, at least he could distract them from their mission.
As the skeletal overlord sauntered out of the confines of his ship, he couldn’t help but cast a malicious grin upon the cowering critters before him. The dread in their eyes filled him with pride, made him feel as if his presence was respected. He would have had more time to appreciate this feeling, had he not been disturbed from his ego trip by a recognizable whistle.
“Yoo-hoo!”, Wander called, ever cheerful. “Over here, Hatey!”
Eyes practically bulging out of his skull, Hater gradually turned his head towards the obnoxious shout. His gaze fell on the fluffy offender, who was waving his hand enthusiastically in greeting.
The robed ruler could feel his face glow green with rage, his claws clenching into fists. Shamrock lightning danced across his fingertips.
“ WANDER! ”, Hater bellowed, stomping down from the platform to face his greatest nemesis.
Peepers saw Hater advancing and decided to cut him off. He ran at top speed, stopping right in front of his boss to draw his attention.
“Sir, please !”, the commander began, “We just got here! We have everything set to take over Hallandia, we have the perfect plan ! Can’t we ignore Wander and focus on taking over the planet? FOR ONCE ?!” Peepers’ pupil shrank in disdain at the thought of another ruined invasion.
The skeleton huffed, clearly annoyed. His greatest enemy was right there, mocking him, and Peepers wanted him to ignore it? NO WAY! Lord Hater, Number One Superstar™️ would be mocked by NO ONE !
“But C.Peeps! Wander is like, totally doing this on PURPOSE ! It’s like he’s TRYING to drive me crazy !”
“ EXACTLY !”, Peepers exclaimed, “He is doing this on purpose! Because he is trying to distract you! And you let him ! Never, not once, has chasing him ever turned out in your favor. Things would work out for you if you just stuck to the FLARPIN’ PLAN, AND DIDN’T GO OFF ON YOUR OWN TO- ”
The commander paused once he noticed that his boss had already left. He could faintly hear a distant roar as Hater hunted his adversary down. Peepers let out a heavy sigh, his form drooping as he accepted the incoming blowout.
Sylvia stormed up the sizable ramp, guns blazing. She soon spotted Commander Peepers dead center.
“Hah!”, she chuckled, “Long time no see, optic nerd! You ready ta rumble?”
Her stance was defensive yet offensive, shoulders raised high, arms curled back, left side facing her opponent. She was expecting Peepers to attack first. But instead of charging head on into battle, the monocular commander settled for curling up into a ball on the ground.
“What’s the point?”, he muttered, completely crestfallen. “We already know how this’ll go…”
The Zbornak’s momentary confusion shifted into something of a warm understanding.
“...Yeah. Alright then, no fighting. Might as well just wait for our idiots to wear themselves out.” Sylvia took a seat next to Peepers, all aggression fading away.
“Havin’ a bad day?”
“Always,” Peepers mumbled, sitting up. “You?”
“Eh, it was fine till you showed up. Though I managed to beat up a few of your guys, that was fun.” She gestured over to the right side of the ship, where quite a few Watchdogs were groaning about their injuries.
Black eyes, bruised skin, one even managed to get his limbs tied up in a knot.
“Great,” Peepers replied sarcastically, “Can’t wait to deal with the medical bills again. Thanks.”
“No problem,” Sylvia shot back, “Never hurts to help.”
The commander snickered under his breath, then playfully punched Sylvia in the arm, “Of course not.”
A comfortable silence washed over the two as they watched their companion’s game of cat-and-mouse.
______________________________________________________________________
When it came to races, Wander was always one step ahead. Bounding over bystanders, dashing through doorways, using every obstacle in his path to his advantage. Of course, this only added to Hater’s frustration.
No matter how hard he tried, he was never able to catch this wandering weirdo. Never able to quell his boundless enthusiasm. Wander’s smile was so warm and bright, derisive to Hater’s hollow sockets.
He made Hater feel so strange. It’s as if every little thing that hairy nuisance did was meant to drive Hater crazy.
He hated it.
He hated how Wander made him feel.
That freak’s stupid sunshine games were always misleading, always driving Hater off course.
What was Hater supposed to do? He couldn’t help that he felt like this! No, this was all Wander’s fault! If that dumb do-gooder was gone, Hater wouldn’t have to worry about being distracted anymore! Then he could focus on conquering, then he could climb up the villain leaderboard, and THEN Lord Hater could FINALLY become the official GREATEST IN THE GALAXY!
All he needed to do was get rid of Wander.
Predator and prey found themselves sprinting through the labyrinth once again. Each chamber whizzing by in a flash of color as the rivals continued their chase. Hater’s eyes were locked onto his enemy, pinpointing where Wander would go next.
Left, left, right, straight, right, straight, straight, left- Hater screeched to a halt when he noticed Wander had stopped running.
They were in a cutesy little room with a wooly rose rug and baby blue plaster, tiny clouds painted across the ceiling. There was a miniature box TV, a couch barely big enough for a Watchdog, piles of random antiques in boxes scattered across the floor, and a minifridge plugged into a space in the wall.
There was nowhere left for Wander to run, this room only had one exit. The skeleton’s jaw slid into a sinister grin. Hater approached Wander with arms stretched wide, blocking all means of escape.
Suddenly, the force of Hater’s shoving caused the door to bang against a wall. It recoiled, slamming shut. Hater spun around, momentarily ditching his threatening stance to check on the entrance.
This door seemed fairly similar to the one outside his room. It was a safe lid, metallic and shiny with a spinny latch for opening. The only difference was that this door had a keyhole where the number pad would be.
He tried turning the handle, but to no avail. He attempted to open the door by force; straining his boney arms, aiming to rip the metal from its hinges. This failed too.
Absolutely livid, Hater blasted the door, resulting in a beam of magic energy to bounce off.
It ricocheted against everything in its path until it struck the miniature television and blew it up. Crackling slightly, it began to ignite. Flames licked up into the air. Wander was quick to notice, pulling a fire extinguisher from his hat and hosing down the flames.
“Phew!”, Wander sighed, relieved. “That was a close one! Nearly burnt down s’pretty lil’ home!”
Scratching at his chin thoughtfully, he surveyed the charred remains of the TV. “A’course that there telly’ll need some fixin’, I ain’t the best when it comes ta’ machines. Hatey, do ya happen ta’ know any repair men?”
Though Hater wouldn’t have responded anyway, he didn’t get a chance to as he heard a rapid knocking at the door.
“SIR!? SIR!”, a voice screeched, “Are you alright?”
“C.Peeps..? WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?”
While yelling at his commander was always the easiest choice, Hater realised that he’d be stuck longer if he stalled the conversation with whining. He settled on a compromise, both yelling and asking for help.
“You know what? It doesn’t matter, juST GET US OUT OF HERE!”
“Yeah, about that,” another voice interrupted. Hater recognised it immediately, frowning in distaste.
“Seems like nobody can open these doors without the correct alien. Key person... Kerson?”
“Schlüsselian,” Peepers corrected matter-of-factly.
“Eh, who cares.”
Sylvia rapped against the metal barrier lighly. “Don’t worry buddy! Just hang tight, we’ll get you two out of there.” She took a moment to look at the key number above the hole, then stormed off with Peepers in her saddle.
“Don’t you worry now either Syl! We’ll be juuuust fine! After all, I got one of ma’ best buds with me!”, Wander yelled back. He was quick to hug Hater, binding him tightly around the waist.
Hater growled, grinding his teeth together as he assessed the situation. He was trapped. In a small room. With Wander.
‘...Of course. ’
Of course he was. Great. Fan-flarpin’-TASTIC! He was all alone with the most annoying person in the galaxy for grop knows how long. There wasn’t any hidden exit; no secret trap doors or unknown openings, it was just a boring, tacky room with a bunch of old junk in it!
He swore he could feel the wallpaper just begging to curl under the pressure of gravity; age pulling down heavily as it split from its surface.
This tomb of a vault reeked of rotten nostalgia. It was as if he’d somehow stumbled across a college student’s old playroom, ready to be torn down and refurbished for a couple’s retirement plan.
It was exceptionally depressing, even for Hater’s tastes. And yet here he was, trapped in this stupid box, with Wander of all people, and no way for him to escape!
…
No way for him to escape…
‘DUH!’ , Hater realised, turning his head to face the foe still wrapped around his side. ‘ I can TOTALLY destroy him right now!’
Raising his hands high above, the skeletal overlord conjured more of his magic energy. Claws extending to grasp his enemy’s neck. To strangle him and shock that stupid, goofy grin off his face. It was easy. Wander was right there, right next to him; effectively defenseless. This was a golden opportunity, one Hater would likely never get again.
...So why was he hesitating?
Really, it was simple, all he had to do was blast this mop’s head off! He was right there! There wasn’t any resisting or useless drivel, Wander was finally within his evil grasp!
There was no reason for Lord Hater to pause, yet he found his urge to kill wavering.
‘What is WRONG with me?! He’s completely helpless! Why can’t I destroy him?!’
Hater sought to reason with his conscience, to find some decent explanation to why he didn’t feel like maiming his greatest antagonist. ‘Maybe I’m not in the ‘evil’ mood? I’ve had slumps before…’
No, that wouldn’t make sense. He was chasing Wander vigorously not ten minutes ago.
‘Did I eat something bad this morning? I do have this weird feeling in my stomach.’
But this wasn’t a normal kind of sick. Besides, banana pancakes were his favorite.
‘...I don’t actually CARE about him, right?!’
Caring about Wander, that made him feel sick in a completely different way. It was always the same icky feeling when he thought about Wander.
It started at the tips of his toes, rising up in his bones till it reached his chest, stabbing him in his withered heart.
It would climb up to his skull where the heat would become unbearably, disgustingly warm. He could barely speak. He could barely think. He hated it.
Lord Hater hated a lot of things, but this was by far the most grotesque, nasty, vile hate he had ever felt for anything.
And yet, it seemed so familiar…
He swallowed loudly, brow collecting sweat despite his lack of pores. As far as Hater could tell, he had two choices. He could either obliterate his enemy and feel a new, awful kind of sick, or hang out with Wander for a while till Peepers got back and feel a familiar (and slightly more bearable) type of sick.
The self-proclaimed monarch took in a large breath, releasing it with a sigh that sounded much more like a groan.
‘FINE! I’ll deal with Wander! That Zbornak would probably kill me if I did anything to him anyway.’
Or at least she would try, there was no conceivable way she could be of any real threat to him. He put that thought aside for now, mainly because it weakened his excuse.
‘At least he’s being quiet.’
Wander was being quiet, but not unnaturally so. It seemed like he was too caught up with hugging Hater to banter. He rarely ever got to hug Hater without resistance, he didn’t want to risk Hater breaking up the affection due to an unnecessary conversation. So he kept his lips sealed tight. ‘Hatey will talk once he’s ready. No need ta’ rush, ol’ chops.’
Wander’s grip was tight and firm, yet comfortable. The silence slowed time to a crawl, each second taking an eternity to pass.
It was nice, this wordless little moment. Hater let himself relax for a while, convinced that Wander would let go eventually.
__________________________________________________________________________
‘ One one seven. One one seven, ’ Sylvia recalled the code scribbled above the hole’s entrance. Repetition always helped her remember important things; ever since she was a hatchling, her mother made sure to repeat all the rules of the house over and over. It was annoying at the time, but it did prove to be useful in the long run.
Meanwhile, Peepers was trying his best to stay steady as Sylvia galloped through the halls. Wander made it look so easy, though he did have more experience ‘Zbornak Riding’ than Peepers.
His grip on the reigns was tight, yet mindful to not yank too hard. He didn’t want to risk injuring the Zbornak’s neck. Seeing as it made up a large portion of her body, any major sprain or injury could be disastrous. He had this weakness written down in his personal ‘How To Fight A Dumpy Zbornak’ journal, but he made sure to leave it out of the main ‘Zbornak Defence’ training booklets. He didn’t want to exploit that sore point, let alone let anyone else do it.
...So maybe he went easy on Sylvia. It wasn’t like she needed him to anyway. He barely ever managed to land a hit on her most of the time, even when he really tried! Besides, as observant as Peepers was, he was fairly certain she had been equally reluctant to go all-out.
He didn’t want her to know he knew that.
“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Peepers spat hurriedly, “We aren’t ‘buddies’ or anything. This is only a rescue mission. Then, we’re back to being enemies.”
Sylvia didn’t buy into his ‘all business’ act, but she’d play along if it meant he’d cooperate. “Uh huh. Sure.”
Soon enough, the pair found themselves back at the main exit. They had their goal, and they’d soon come up with a plan.
“Alright, this shouldn’t be too hard,” Sylvia spoke as she ambled out to the sidewalk. “Just gotta find the key with the right number… On… Its…”
She trailed off once she faced the crowd, gawking at the massive amount of key people still running around and panicking despite no Watchdogs attacking.
“... Chest. Great. How’re we ever gonna find the right key with all of ‘em running around like this?”
“We could demand them to line up in orderly rows using the threat of ultimate destruction?”, Peepers interjected, more of a comment to himself than her. She threw him a vexed glance, which quickly scratched that idea off as ‘too evil’; much to Peepers’ displeasure.
“Okay? So what are we going to do?”, he challenged as he dismounted her. He was increasingly frustrated with Sylvia’s ‘good guy’ demeanor.
“I don’t know, I kinda thought you’d be smart enough to figure this out. Excuse me for having high expectations,” she teased, well aware of how Peepers would take it.
As expected, he blew his top; lashing out defensively against her rude comments.
“I AM SMART ENOUGH FOR THIS! I’M SMART ENOUGH TO RUN THE ENTIRE SKULL SHIP! I DON’T NEED TO PROVE ANYTHING TO ANYONE! LET ALONE SOME BRUTEISH ZBORNAK!”
All his screaming caught the Schlüsselian’s attention, they observed the commander with considerably less trepidation. The pair realized this wasn’t a private conversation anymore. The aliens eyed Peepers curiously, only adding to his embarrassment as he stared back.
He was about to berate them for eavesdropping, stopping himself just in time to realize he had gotten exactly what he needed.
“Schlüsselian number ‘one one seven’, reveal yourself!”
The mob looked at Peepers blankly, as if they had no idea what he was talking about.
Sylvia decided to use Peeper’s tactic, if slightly less aggressive. “Hey, does anybody know where a key with the number ‘one one seven’ is? Our friends are trapped inside.”
That detailed explanation brought clarity to the situation. A collective “ Ohh ” swam through the mass, one Schlüsselian speaking up to address the question.
“You mean Makeylla? She went off on one of those ‘super sale’ shopping trips of hers. She should be back in about five hours.”
That wasn’t what Peepers needed to hear. “FIVE HOURS?! WE CAN’T POSSIBLY WAIT THAT LONG!”
“Well she usually goes to the same stores every thursday. Try going to Relic Rental or Old Timey Candlesticks, she’ll be at one of those.”
That was all Sylvia needed to hear to get going, “Cool. Thanks for the tip!”
Wrapping her tail around Peepers and pulling him back up on the saddle, she retrieved some orbble juice from under the seat; waving it around her and walking the bubble into the sky.
__________________________________________________________________________
A minute soon became two, then four, then eight, one could assume a whole hour had passed. The belief Wander would wise up was fading away. The overlord’s feet were starting to ache from standing so long, and the awkwardness he was suffering was palpable.
“...Could you like, get off me already?”, Hater muttered hastily.
Wander’s obligation was a bit of a shock, but it was appreciated nonetheless. Wander’s arms slowly released Hater, warmth receding from his bones.
A small sense of relief washed over the skeleton, overshadowed greatly by the chill taking over his senses. He missed the hug, not that he would ever say it out loud.
Not in the mood to thank him, Hater simply stepped away from Wander, patting down his robe in a show of disgust.
He stomped away from Wander, making a scene as he sat down with a ‘humph’. Facing the corner farthest away from his adversary, Hater pulled his face into a pout; a clear sign he wasn’t enjoying himself.
Wander tried to remind himself that patience was important, but his restraint was slipping away. He didn’t know how long he’d be in this room, maybe not long enough. This was the perfect time to reason with Hater, why was he wasting it?
Unsure of how to proceed, the nomad cleared his throat guardedly. He didn’t want Hater to think this was any sort of ploy, he just wanted Hater to see the hospitality in his words.
“So…”, Wander began, taking a prudent step forwards, “How y’ been, Hatey?”
The question was simple enough, spoken kindly while prodding for formal conversation. It was very unlikely Hater would act nearly as civil.
He was hesitant to respond, but ignoring Wander was never Hater’s strong suit, so he allowed himself to gripe.
“Uh, awful! Obviously! I mean come on , I have to deal with you! ”
Wander avoided the insult, not taking it personally. That wasn’t what he wanted to focus on. He wanted to make Hater feel relaxed, he needed something to erase tension, to ease this conversation along.
“Aww, c’mon Hater, cheer up! We won’t be in here for long! I bet Syl n’ Mr. Peepers’ll be back real soon!”
“Not soon enough!”, Hater retorted, voice weighed down by hostility. “Honestly, why did I even let this happen?!”
“Well, this ain’t all bad! Now we’ve got sum’ time to get ta’ know each other a lil’ better!”
‘That may have been a tad too on the nose…’, Wander realised, Hater too busy forming an inhospitable reply to catch the worried look on his face.
“ Pfft! Hah! Why would I want to know anything more about you?! ”
“Why not? We’ve known each other for a while now, but we haven’t really gotten ta talk like this! Don’tcha have any questions you wanna ask me ‘fore the day is done? M’ willin’ to answer anythin’ you’re wonderin’ ‘bout!”
Hater was about to repeat his earlier sentiments, but he found himself caught in Wander’s hopeful stare. This little orange muppet had always mystified him. He seemed to have ties with just about everything, he would pop up out of nowhere like a weed, yet nobody could ever pick him. Hater had heard rumors about the star nomad before, nothing that really seemed accurate, but some of them were wild enough to pique his interest.
Maybe he should ask Wander some questions. He might discover potential weaknesses, or some lost, embarrassing secret!
But what should he start with? He had so many questions…
Hater took a deep breath, as if to draw in the willpower to deal Wander’s madness for a little while longer. “... Well, I guess I have some questions.”
Wander gasped excitedly, “REALLY?!”
“Yes, fine, I do,” Hater admitted, turning around in his spot on the ground to face Wander. “Not many! Just a few. And when I ask you this stuff, you better not- like- blab on and on about some dumb folks you helped or I’m not gonna ask anymore!”
Wander was fine with this condition, this conversation was supposed to be about Hater anyway. After all, he was only answering questions so that Hater would get used to him a little more. “Okie dokie then! Ask away!”
Hater wanted this over with sooner than later, so he made sure to ask the first questions that came to mind. “Uh, how do you always escape my dungeon?”
“Hmm, well, Sylvia’s usually doin’ all the heavy lifting, but I know how ta’ get around ya ship! It’s a real nice ship by the way, lotta’ rooms have such pretty colors!”
Momentarily perplexed, Hater didn’t consider Wander’s response an explanation. “You can’t just get out of a dungeon with a MAP!”
“Don’t really need a map o’ the Skull Ship anymore, but I do make sure ta’ check on the passwords every now an’ then! They can change pretty often, usually Peepers makin’ em. He uses cute lil’ codenames for you and the Watchdogs, it’s so sweet!”
‘Wait, he has access to our new passwords? HOW?!’ It didn’t seem possible for Wander to know all their passwords, it was made sure that each one would change every week. ‘Peepers told me he’s hidden them in some sort of nerdy, high-tech code! Can he read that stuff too? WHY IS HE BEING SO HONEST ABOUT THIS?!’ Hater was at a loss, but he didn’t want to stop asking questions. Especially if Wander was going to be this truthful with them.
“Okay, well, how do you know where I am when I’m conquering planets?”
“Well most of the time it happens on accident. We’ll be helpin’ folks on one planet, then you’ll show up n’ start conquering like ya’ did today, and we’ll play chase n’ have fun like we always do! Sometimes me n’ Syl will see your ship n’ decide ta’ drop in, though that doesn’t happen very often. N’ when you ain’t conquerin’ planets, we’ll stay on ya ship for a while so we can have a playdate!”
So it was just an awful coincidence Wander managed to follow Hater wherever he went. He didn’t doubt it, the universe seemed to love making him the butt of its cosmic joke. Talking about his interactions with Wander just made Hater feel angry and defeated, so he started to shift the conversation to find out more about Wander himself.
“How do you sleep outside all the time? There’s rocks, and bugs, and mud, and it’s so GROSS! ”
“It ain’t too bad if ya’ choose something’ soft ta’ sleep on! Sylvia sometimes needs a pillow or two, but she usually just finds some grass or dirt ta’ sleep on. I’ve got ma’ hat, which makes for a pretty good sleepin’ bag! It’ll also get us anything we need to make the night. N’ bugs don’t bother us too much since we don’t bother them.”
‘ Gross... ’, Hater had always hated camping. He only did it when absolutely necessary, usually to get some artifacts in places like dense jungles. The ship couldn’t really land without solid ground, and Hater would only ever stay the night on a planet if it had something important on it. Camping seemed like a thing only hippies would enjoy. Being surrounded by ‘ The beauty of nature ’, it made Hater gag just thinking about it.
Though he couldn’t really say he had met many hippies, just one very bothersome one. He guessed Major Threat would count as well, but he didn’t really want Wander’s influence to corrupt his view on the old Major threat.
‘Jeff’ seemed like an entirely different person, and Hater was going to consider him one. Jeff wasn’t the Major Threat that Hater knew as a young reincarnate, the person that had inspired him to be evil, to have millions of aliens worshipping him, screaming his name.
Jeff was just another villain Wander used to spread peace throughout the galaxy. Wander had swooped in, made Jeff his friend, turned him ‘good’, and cut ties; just to move on to the next sucker that got in his way.
Lord Hater was going to be better than Jeff, better than Major Threat, better than any other villain before him! No ‘Wander’ or ‘Tumbleweed’ would get in the way of him taking over the galaxy! And even if Jeff had a similar story, it didn’t mean Hater would fall prey to Wander’s meddling!
… Though, that ‘Tumbleweed’ in Jeff’s story did sound pretty familiar.
Hater had thought about it before, how this do-gooder appeared to be exactly like Wander. He had immediately assumed that they were the same person. Jeff used a different name, but they seemed to use the exact same tactics. It only made sense for them to be one in the same, but Hater was never really sure.
‘ Might as well ask him, since I’ve got nothing better to do. ’
“... Is your real name ‘Tumbleweed’?”
This question caught Wander by surprise. He had been asked things like this before- going by multiple names in different universes was bound to confuse some people- but Hater hadn’t even heard about Wander until they met face-to-face. He figured Hater must have learned about it from somebody he used to know, an old villain most likely.
Wander doubted Hater had the self-discipline to put up with Screwball’s act, so he might have heard about it from Jeff. Jeff did end up coming to this side of the universe, it wasn’t too farfetched to think he might have said something. Wander put that aside for now, focusing on the question itself.
“Oh! Well, yes! I guess you could say it is.”
So Hater was right after all. Though this revelation didn’t help him feel any better. He didn’t understand why Wander would ever go by something else. Sure, the name ‘Tumbleweed’ was stupid, but ‘Wander’ wasn’t even a good nickname! Why change it? Hater was still trying to wrap his head around it.
“Wait, so ‘Wander’ is just a nickname?! ”
“A’course its not, Hatey! Wander s’my real name too!”
Well, that made even less sense! Hater was more confused than before, and in turn, angry.
“Wander. You can’t have TWO REAL NAMES! THAT’S NOT HOW IT WORKS!”
“Pardon me, y’know m’ not one ta’ disagree, but I don’t really think that’s true. I’ve had quite a few real names m’self after all, got one for each galaxy! A’course, it don’t really matter what people call me, so I ‘spose I just like ta’ go with the flow.”
“... Wander. Those aren’t real names. Those are NICKNAMES! A REAL name is one you’re given at BIRTH! What’s your REAL NAME?!? ”
Wander thought long and hard, looked as far as he could into the past, but among all the faded memories and broken pieces, he couldn’t find anything.
“Huh. I guess I ain’t really sure.”
Hater was completely baffled. How could Wander not know the answer? This was one of the few things everybody was expected to know about themselves!
“Not sure- NOT SURE?! HOW ARE YOU NOT SURE?! IT’S YOUR NAME! JUST- Wh- How- J-JUST- UHG!”, Hater stood up abruptly, pacing around the room in frustration. “HOW CAN YOU JUST FORGET YOUR REAL NAME?! WHAT, DOES YOUR STUPID SPECIES LIKE, NOT GIVE EACH OTHER NAMES OR SOMETHING?!”
“Don’t be silly now! A’course we have names for each other! S’ just… I haven’t been round’ ‘nother one of my kind in a long time.”
“Well then why don’t you go back to dumb little planet and FIND OUT WHAT YOUR NAME IS?!”
It had been ages since Hater had seen Wander frown, witnessed any trace of hurt on his face. One could say that he missed it, Wander being upset. It seemed so out of place for the wanderer. It happened so rarely, Hater nearly thought it was a figment of his imagination.
It only lasted a second, but Wander had let his composure slip. The frown didn’t appear bitter, just solemn. A melancholy sort of sadness, filled with grim acceptance. Just a second. It was supposed to go unnoticed.
But it didn’t..
“What?”, Hater jabbed, eager to uncover some dark secret, “Something wrong Wander?” An occasion this scarce wouldn’t be left to waste, especially with the overlord so curious.
“NOPE!”, Wander forced out hurriedly, beginning to regret letting Hater ask all the questions. “M’ right as rain!”
“Really..? Gosh I sure hope so! I mean, it almost looked like something was bothering you.” Of course Hater wasn’t going to let up.
The false concern in his tone hurt, almost as much as looking back. Unforgiving hands dug into Wander’s mind, clawing at his eyes and forcing them open. He could do nothing but stare into the past, ground being torn apart as cries pierced the air; he could almost give their voices a name.
His torment was obvious now, lids forced shut and jaw clenched. Hater swore he felt ecstatic seeing Wander this distressed.
“There IS something wrong, isn’t there? What happened?”
Wander closed his eyes even tighter, desperately hoping that Hater would stop.
“Was the planet conquered by someone? HAH! I would have loved to do that!”
Brows were drawn together, he was trying his best to be polite.
“Nah, I bet they just kicked you out for being so annoying! ”
He started quivering. He knew Hater was only trying to get a rise out of him, but it wasn’t possible for him to be calm about something this personal.
The skeleton was openly mocking him now, singing a little chant while childishly sticking his tongue out and making a face. “ Nananana-na-na! You can’t go back home! HAH! I bet they won’t even let you go anywhere near the planet because you’re so-”
“It’s gone .”
The teasing ceased. Wander’s cold feedback sent chills down Hater’s spine. It was unnerving, he wasn’t sure how to respond.
“Uh… Whuh?”
“My planet. S’ gone. It was destroyed a long time ago.”
The reality of the situation hit Hater like a sack of bricks.
Making fun of people had always been entertaining for him, it was what he did before he became a real villain. The first few months after he and Peepers met, they practiced villainy by bullying people. They weren’t much of a threat- all they had was a dinged-up van and low self esteem- but all villains start out small; this was how the Hater Empire began. Making people feel bad was what villains were all about.
Though everyone had their limits.
Going too far could turn ‘evil’ into ‘ evil ’. There were some things even the most dastardly villains wouldn’t do. And for Hater, destroying populated planets was one of those things.
He had destroyed planets, but it was usually made sure that people had time to escape. Monologuing was used to waste some time, a lot of aliens weren’t aware this was done on purpose.
He had killed people too. In truth, this wasn’t something he was particularly proud of. Torture was common- the torture involving more ‘scaring’ than actual pain- but death was saved for those who dared to oppose Lord Hater.
Having the ability to kill was a good thing in this line of work, though Hater would be lying if he said he didn’t have nightmares about it. He would show off the fact he was something to be feared without remorse, yet he’d never forget the first time he actually murdered. Even if he didn’t technically do it himself, that didn’t stop him from crying about it. He couldn’t tell Peepers he was upset either, then he’d just get laughed at! So he had to sit there, alone in his bedroom, grieving over a person he didn’t even like.
He got over it eventually, and it became easier to kill after a while. His threats were backed with experience, so they were much more effective. It also got easier to threaten, he’d done it to Wander a thousand times over; making a clear statement that he wanted the nomad gone.
And yet, even with all his talk of destruction, loss wasn’t something he wanted to make fun of. He wouldn’t have even mentioned Wander’s planet if he knew what had happened. It was hard to believe Wander had such a dark backstory with how cheerful he was, but this couldn’t be a fib. Wander was a lot of things, but a liar? Never. Not in a million years.
“... Oh,” he whispered, afraid to say anything else.
Wander hummed thoughtfully, gently sitting on the woolen carpet. He twirled a frayed string between his fingers absentmindedly, trying to find the right way to proceed.
“Wasn’t anybody’s fault, s’more of a ‘natural disaster’ than a destruction. Big ol’ meteor hit the south pole, ground started ta’ shake, it split open n’ started suckin’ people in. I only managed ta’ escape ‘cause a nearby shop had some orbble juice. A buncha others had the same idea, but all the rocks the planet was spittin’ out went and popped their bubbles, made ‘em fall back into the pits. Didn’t see anybody else get out.”
A somber smile began to appear, not quite reaching Wander’s eyes. It hung low and wide, failing to lighten the mood.
“S’funny... Been wanderin’ for so long, jus’ seemed like something I’ve always done. Felt natural. Sometimes, when m’ not thinkin’ ‘bout the people I meet or the places I’ve seen, I get ta’ wonderin’ why m’ still roamin’ around. But I guess it ain’t hard ta’ travel when ya’ don’t got a place to go back to.”
Wander lost himself in his own thoughts for a while, snapping out of it once he noticed the distressed look on Hater’s face, “Oh! M’ sorry Hatey, I didn’t mean ta’ make things so gloomy. Look at me, bein’ such a chatterbox, I haven’t even asked ya any questions ‘bout yourself yet!”
Hater should have gotten used to Wander’s kind nature by now, yet it still managed to catch him by surprise. He had just gotten done pushing Wander’s tolerance till it was teetering over the edge, why was he acting so civil?
Hater briefly felt an urge to atone for his mistake, pushing it aside to focus on the now. Looking Wander over, Hater reasoned he was right to ask questions. Hater did love talking about himself. Besides, it would be a good distraction from the previous topic.
“F-fine,” Hater sputtered, shifting his gaze away from Wander, “Go ahead. Just, don’t ask anything stupid.”
“Alrighty then!”
Wander tried to think of an appropriate question. ‘What’s your favorite color? Favorite food? Cat person or dog person? You ever won a contest?’ He went through the list, soon realizing he already knew Hater’s answer to all of those questions.
He knew Hater didn’t like to repeat himself, but he also knew Hater hadn’t specifically told him the answers to some of the questions. He wasn’t even sure what he had and hadn’t been told at that point.
Wander had to come up with a new question.
‘But what should I ask?’
There was something he was wondering about now, but it may have been a little too private for him to ask. Considering what they just got done talking about, and remembering how much he was bothered about it, it would be a bit hypocritical of Wander to ask what Hater’s real name was.
Hater was still waiting, probably growing impatient at this point. All the other questions Wander thunk up would most likely sound foolish, and Hater did say not to ask a stupid question.
Wander inwardly sighed, knowing he didn’t have a much better option.
“Well, d’ya mind tellin’ me what your real name is, Hatey? If you’re okay with it a’course.”
Hater’s sockets blew wide open. He was nowhere near prepared enough for that question, he knew he had to come up with some sort of excuse.
“Uh-wh-well-b-but uh… But ‘Hater’ is my real name!”, he stuttered out, hoping Wander would buy it.
“So, ya got that name when you were born?”
“Uh… Well- Well no but…”
“Hatey,” Wander began, not wanting a repeat of Hater’s last question, “If you ain’t comfortable talkin’ ‘bout it, it’s okay. We can talk about somethin’ else if ya want to now.”
That did sound a lot better than telling Wander his ‘real’ name and- most likely- having to explain his tragic backstory; one he had only recently remembered at that. Hater’s oldest memories used to only date back to waking up on a moon next to a jacked-up ship. He was a skeleton, so he assumed he had died, but he didn’t know how.
That is, until a few months ago, when he saw that the same moon had somehow survived Dominator’s destructive rampage.
With his newfound understanding of technology, Hater was able to examine the ship and its contents a little better. What he found was eye opening, and frankly something he wished he could forget.
Describing what it was like, especially to Wander , was like sticking one’s hand into a Doom Dragon's mouth to show off the bits of meat stuck in its fangs. It was terrifying! Hater didn’t like talking about his feelings, so discussing his very reason for ‘ being’ felt completely out of the question.
Despite this, Hater wanted to talk to someone about it, and needed somebody to confide in. He would normally tell Peepers, had he not been too anxious to do it earlier.
Still, Wander was a good substitute when it came to ‘feelings’, better than nothing at least.
He did just get done digging into Wander’s past, maybe he deserved this?
“... No, I’m gonna tell you. ONLY so when I finally destroy you, you’ll know about all the events that led to your agonizing demise!”
Wander caught Hater’s intentions, becoming mildly concerned. “Events? Hatey, ya don’t gotta tell everything if ya don’t want to. I wouldn’t wanna make you uncomfortable-”
“ I-AM-TOTALLY-COMFORTABLE-AND-FINE-WITH-TELLING-YOU, I’M GOING TO TELL YOU, I DO WHAT I WANT! ”
Alright, maybe Hater wanted to tell Wander more than the thought he did. This certainly didn’t do anything for the pit in his transparent stomach, but he couldn’t back down now.
“My real name… Well, it isn’t really much of a name- it’s like… Well it was real but I wouldn’t really call it a name , but I was born into it… It’s pretty stupid- CAN’T WE JUST SKIP TO MY BACKSTORY INSTEAD?!”
“Hatey,” Wander began, placing a supportive hand on Hater’s shoulder- one that was quickly slapped away. “Why would you ever think your name was bad? M’ sure you had a lovely name! After all, there are tons of names out there in the big wide universe; like Jon, or Sally, or Nevaeh, or Huckleberry,”
“Wander,” Hater interrupted, trying to stop the nomad from blabbing.
“Steve, Donald, Lilith, Hugh, Radie,”
“WANDER,” he tried, a little louder.
“Spooky, Kenny, Peter, Bitty, Lo-”
“ WANDER! MY NAME ISN’T LIKE THAT! ”
Unfazed by Hater’s outburst, Wander simply asked him to clarify. “Whatcha mean?”
“It’s not a normal name! It has like- NUMBERS in it!”, Hater revealed, expression tightening as he accentuated his point.”
Wander still wasn’t deterred, “That ain’t a problem! ‘Once knew a girl named Le’four’che, sounds like a pretty name ta me!”
That wasn’t exactly what Hater meant (he’d have to remember to laugh at that later, being too stressed to do it then).
“NO! IT'S NOT LIKE THAT! IT’S JUST NUMBERS! Like, there’s ONE word.”
“Hatey,” moving closer, Wander grazed his palm against Hater’s mandible, “I ain’t here ta judge you. ‘Specially for something in ya past. You don’t have ta worry ‘bout what I think.”
Feeling oversensitized, Hater grabbed at the nomad’s wrist, yanking it away from his jowl. He gave Wander his best scowl, praying that the electricity circling his zygomatic wasn’t too noticeable.
“ I NEVER CARED ABOUT WHAT YOU THOUGHT! AND I NEVER WILL!”, His invisible gut was starting to wrench. He didn’t even want to look at Wander, why was he still talking to him?
Why did he even bother telling him anything? He just wanted this to be over.
“It’s- It’s- UHG! ‘ SUBJECT ONE-ONE-SEVEN’ ! THERE! NOW YOU KNOW! CAN WE MOVE ON NOW?!”
Despite Wander’s reassurance that he wouldn’t judge, that name did confuse him, “... Subject?”
“YEAH. ‘SUBJECT’. I TOLD YOU, IT’S DUMB! IT’S FOR A FLARPIN’ GUINEA PIG IN SOME STUPID EXPIRIMENT!”, Hater’s grimace grew, evidently resenting the label. “And you would have KNOWN about that if you just LET ME GET TO MY BACKSTORY!”
Wander’s confusion soon gave way to contrition. He was hesitant to offer more feedback, if only temporarily.
“‘M sorry,” Wander mumbled, pouting guiltily. “I shouldn’t have pushed ya like that. I won’t cut ya off anymore.” Miming with playful aspiration, he zipped his mouth shut; locking his lips and throwing away the key for good measure.
Hater drew his brows together in exasperation. His cranium felt near to bursting at that point. Wander was the epitome of irritating, a complete enigma to anyone with decency. It seemed like a miracle Hater tolerated his presence for so long.
Releasing his supraorbitalis, the skeleton struggled to disclose his unfortunate origins.
“So… Like, I don’t know, millions of years ago? Ten million? Not like, galactic measurement years- like, Earth years? I know people don’t really use those as much, it’s like the whole ‘metric’ system thing. But I’m- it’s easier using Earth years because- uh-”
“Did ya come from the Milky Way Galaxy?”
Wander’s guess, being accurate, managed to save Hater at least part of his clumsily delivered story, “Uh. Yeah. Well, yes , but it’s more because I’m... Actually from Earth…”
The nomad’s pupils shrunk slightly, trying to take everything in. Earth had been consumed by its own sun long ago, but its people still lived on some other planets in their system. Humans were notorious for being astrophobic, making it clear that they didn’t want other alien species anywhere near them unless they brought goods.
There had been tales of aliens being kidnapped by humans for experimentation, which eerily matched up with Hater’s words. Wander would never think all humans did things like that (there were extraterrestrial rights activists after all), but given what he had just heard, he couldn’t help but assume. “Did somebody… Did somebody experiment on you?”
“What?! No!”, Hater thought for a moment, “Well, not really. Wander, when I said I was from Earth, I meant I was FROM. EARTH. I wasn’t an alien to them.”
Hater’s response just left Wander with more questions, “But… Ya don’t really look like a human skeleton…”
“I’m not.”
“But y’ came from Earth?”
“WANDER! THERE ARE MORE THAN JUST HUMANS ON EARTH!”
“Well yes, but humans ‘re the only dominant species from Earth-”
“WELL I WASN’T IN A DOMINANT SPECIES!”
Drawn back, Wander did his best to proceed with caution. “...You were an animal ?”
Hater shrunk in on himself, drawing his knees up to his chest as he sat in shame. “...Maybe.”
Embarrassed, he quickly began backtracking, “Well- I was closer to human than a lot of other animals! Like, people say humans descended from monkeys, and like- chimpanzees are a LOT smarter than most monkeys!”
“You were a chimpanzee?”
“Uh… Yeah.”
‘ Were ’ and ‘ was ’ made Wander feel gloomier than he would normally allow. He knew it was possible that Lord Hater had died, but hearing it out loud- The finality of it all- It certainly felt a lot darker.
“It wasn’t like, experimenting . It was more like… Training? Well, it was training. They wanted to send a human into space, but it was still too dangerous to risk anyone ‘important’,” He explained, grimacing once again. “So they trained things like me to fly up into space for them.”
“I was supposed to land on a moon,” Hater brought one boney claw out in front of him, forming it into a circular shape. “But... Uh… I kinda,” bringing his other hand up, he drew his index finger over the curled fist, “... Flew off-course.”
“I uh, floated in space for… I don’t even know how long. Probably millions of years. I don’t know what killed me. It could have been starvation, but I guess dehydration would make more sense, with the whole ‘you can live longer without food’ thing...”
Hater studied Wander’s expression. It was just as pained as when he talked about his past, maybe even more so. It showed something deeper than the pity Hater had expected. He didn’t know what to think about that, he couldn’t even pretend to be enjoying this. Hater pressed on anyway.
“... The ship did eventually land on a moon, pretty close to here actually. I don’t know what the moon's name is, I don’t really care either. All I know is that one day, I woke up. Probably some magic ‘cosmic lightning bolt’ thing. So I woke up. And, uh, yeah,” He shrugged half-heartedly.
Bottom lip quivering, tears finally managed to run down Wander’s face, catching in his fur. “Hatey…”
Hater knew that look anywhere, he was about to be tackled with a full-on bear hug, or some other gross thing like that. Usually such danger would prompt Hater to dodge, but he was too bummed out to do anything other than mope.
A lack of defense let Wander grab at his ribcage with no struggle. Wrapping his scrawny limbs across Hater’s front, reaching his mits all the way to Hater’s spine, he sobbed lightly into his sternum; soaking the front of Hater’s cloak.
“Uhg, GROSS! ”, the lord hollered listlessly. “Stop it! I’ve only got like, twenty of these things left in my closet!”
Wander sniffled softly, bringing his arm up to hold Hater’s face once again. “Oh Hatey…”
The way Wander looked at him with those pathetic eyes; big, green, and swimming with understanding, it was driving Hater over the edge. He didn’t think he could take anything this sappy, especially from his greatest foe; yet he couldn’t look away.
“‘M so sorry… ‘M so, so sorry that happened to ya. No one should ever have ta deal with somethin’ like that. Out ‘n space, all alone- I can’t even imagine…”
Hater abruptly hated being the center of attention for once. “Well… I’m pretty sure you can , you just told me you did! I mean, come on! You said you’re the only guy who made it out alive, doesn’t that kinda mean you were alone?”
Wander took a shaky breath, “I s’pose so. But it didn’t take long for me ta find a pal after that. I wish someone’d been there for you after that.”
“Eh, I found Peepers after a few years. Well, more like he found me . He saw me use my powers on this hotdog cart guy that ticked me off, and he was all like, ‘Ooo! You’ve got powers, I’ve got brains, let conquer the galaxy!’, and I was kinda already diggin’ the villain life cause evil was pretty rad and stuff.”
The skeleton attempted to fold his arms together to look more confident and masculine, but that oversized string worm was still clinging onto his chest plate for dear life; as well as rubbing his grubby little paw on Hater’s right temporal.
He grabbed at the nomad’s midsection, closing his entire fist around Wander’s body and forcibly ripping him off his burly figure. The effort was in vain however, because as soon as he had gotten Wander away from him, the little orange mop had managed to encase Hater’s metallic arm in another death grip.
“Get. Off. Of. Me.”
In contrast to his previous demand for Wander to release him, this one had gone unnoticed.
“Hatey,” Wander said as he drew himself closer, “Y’ don’t have ta try ‘n sugarcoat what happened. S’okay ta let it all out sometimes, ‘s good for ya.”
“WHAT?!”, Hater screeched, mortified. “EWW, NO! I’M NOT GONNA CRY, ONLY BABIES CRY!”
“Everybody needs a lil’ emotional release Hatey. ‘Specially after holdin’ stuff in for so long.”
Lord Hater, Number One Superstar™️ was the roughest, toughest, most manly alien that the universe had to offer! No way was he going to bawl like a toddler in front of his greatest foe! That’s just ‘Villainy 101’; NEVER show ANY SIGN OF WEAKNESS!
That was exactly what Wander wanted to see, a moment of weakness! If Hater gave him anything to hold onto, he’d climb all the way up the overlord’s metaphorical mountain of flaws and the whole thing would come crashing down! He’d give in to the power of ‘wuv’ and he would talk about ‘feelings’; he’d start being ‘good’ and he’d wander across the stars as some stupid free spirited traveler and-
‘UHG! NO! ANYTHING BUT THAT!’
Hater could never reiterate hard enough how much he despised the thought of weeping in front of his nemesis. His sockets bore into Wander’s pupils; as if he was daring Wander to do anything else infuriating.
The fuzzball simply raised his head to capture Hater’s gaze, clinging tighter to the skeleton’s prosthetic as he beamed up at him; something akin to encouragement in his eyes framed by salty tears.
Hater couldn’t look away.
The longer he tried to force back the waterworks, the faster he succumbed to his grief. His glower was unconvincing, he shook his cranium as if it would somehow fling his anguish away.
He swung his metal arm, wishing it was free, but Wander refused to surrender.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, sounding more like a lifelong friend than an age-old rival.
And with that, the dam finally broke.
It wasn't a dramatic, heart breaking howl. It was a sort of muffled sobbing. Hater’s emotional bursts were often theatrical in nature, but this wasn’t an outburst of annoyance or sour attitude; this was Hater letting go. Wander had barely been able to tell Hater started crying at all.
Hater’s carpels hid his empty craters as water leaked from the edges. Wander wasn’t exactly sure if he needed oxygen, but Hater’s breathing came out labored and shaky. His joints were rattling as he drew himself back into his corner.
Wander belatedly gave up on Hater’s fake limb, trading it for hugging the monarch as a whole.
Hater turned his head away from Wander’s view, but found himself leaning into the nomad’s touch. Wander rubbed at his back thoughtfully, tracing the bumps along his spine with the tips of his fingers.
“S’okay,” he hummed softly, “I know.”
This was humiliating. Hater couldn’t believe he was allowing this to happen. He had completely given in to Wander’s scheme, there was no way back from this. Worst of all, he wasn’t nearly as upset with it as he should have been! What had Wander done to him? Why was he smiling now? Who the flarp smiles after crying?
Hater used what little energy he had left to force a frown back on his face. He pressed into Wander for a little longer, then gently pushed him away.
Their eyes were locked once again, streaks of dampened fur and darkened stains were the only remnants of their sorrow. Wander looked a little pleased with himself, not enough to smirk; he wasn’t the type to be cocky.
“Y’feel better now?”
Hater was silent, it was embarrassing enough that he broke down in front of Wander, he didn’t need to add another awkward conversation to his list of regrets.
Wander took his silence as a yes, feeling even more satisfied knowing he had done Hater some good.
“Well ‘m glad you were able ta get it all out. I know ‘s hard for a tough guy such as y’self ta deal with yer emotions like this; but facin’ ya darkest moments' takes a lotta strength.”
Wander wanted his comment to really sink in, so he waited for a while before he continued. The fact he considered Hater ‘tough’ certainly helped him get the skeleton’s attention.
“‘S not easy askin’ for help. Everybody needs it, but sometimes it seems a lot less painless ta do stuff y’self. ‘N that only makes things worse.” Wander rubbed his shoulder, brushing at his hair without thought.
“... ‘M glad you decided ta share this with me. ‘M sorry that things got a lil’ touchy at the end there, but ‘m happy we were able ta talk.”
Far too fatigued to bicker, Hater hung his skull low; decidedly refusing to look Wander in the eye.
There weren’t any more questions. As soon as Wander finished conversating, he had taken to cleaning the piles of junk that lay strewn about the room; back to being his usual, peppy self. Everything appeared very old, centuries old even. It was clear these objects were believed to be extremely expensive. Not necessarily valuable in any normal sense, one look at the hill of novelty snow globes being proof enough of that, but Wander wasn’t the type to judge people for what made them happy; even if an overwhelming majority of these items looked like knock-offs shown on infomercials (Wander certainly didn’t remember a brand named ‘Bob’s Best Builders’ on any chair he’d ever seen in year 3000 WEL).
Artifacts were arranged, albums were organized, commodities were categorized; everything was put in its own neat little stack. Hater didn’t offer to assist Wander in any way, he was too busy staring at a wall and rethinking his life choices.
Wander was doing his best to be careful as he sorted, delicately placing everything where it belonged.
*Cling*
*Clack*
*Ding*
*Thump*
*Click*
… Strange, that didn’t sound like anything he was sprucing up. He heard it again, followed by a high-pitched giggle. It sounded like somebody was opening the door.
The handle twirled clockwise, hatch opening with a creak.
Sylvia and Peepers stood behind it, the commander holding a Schlüsselian tightly, clearly peeved about something. Sylvia looked almost as wound up, if a tad more drained; most likely due to the numerous shopping bags she was carrying.
“There we go~! All open~!”, the creature spoke in an ear grating voice. She was small and golden, a label with a familiar number showcased prominently on her belly. She looked very similar to a house key, which seemed rather odd considering she opened a safe lid.
“Glad I could help you guys out~! Hopefully you won’t have to rip me from my shopping next time~! You dearies need to learn to be a little patient~!”
“As if waiting an hour for you to find a stupid rusty pocket watch wasn’t long enough,” Sylvia muttered under her breath.
Sylvia’s comment went unnoticed as the alien wiggled herself out of Peepers’ crushing grip. “My oh my, how good it is to be home with all my things~! Hopefully they’ll showcase a super sale on nesting dolls this- next… thursday…”
Makeylla visually deflated once she saw her broken television. She slowly dragged her feet over to it, Peepers’ expression changing to smugness once she finally seemed distraught enough to stop talking.
Wander rushed to her side, feeling largely responsible for the TV’s destruction despite the fact he had nothing to do with it.
“M’am, I am… SO sorry! I-I can try ‘n look around, see if anybody knows how ta fix it, I’ll pay for it and anythin’ else ya-”
“Oh. No. It’s… FINE, ” she forced out, grinning dangerously. “I know somebody who can fix. It. You don’t have to do a thing, deary~!”
Wander clearly didn’t agree with her, he begged Makeylla to let him help her out; Sylvia sliding the bags off her tail, arms and neck before lugging her weary self over to Wander’s side. He ended up multitasking, trying to convince Makeylla to let him help while simultaneously handing Sylvia some cold towels for her bruises. It was obvious she got them from the massive amount of cargo she was hauling; each wound was a purplish mark caused by a lack of circulation.
She gave Wander a little “Thanks,” placing the icy cloth over each injury.
Since Wander and Sylvia were busy with other matters, Hater saw this as the perfect time to book it. He abruptly stood up, rushed over to Peepers, and grabbed him by the back of his collar.
“Sir?! What are you DOING?!”
“We’re leaving. Now.”
“B-but we haven’t even finished conquering this planet yet-”
Hater wasn’t going to have any of that. “ NOW, PEEPERS!”, he repeated urgently.
The commander slumped slightly, but didn’t argue with his superior. He might have had to spend an hour or two with an annoying little hoarder, but Hater had to spend most of the day hanging out with Wander, the person he’s hated for years! Lord Hater had to be fuming, that definitely wasn’t a good time to get on his bad side.
Peepers called all the Watchdogs into a retreat, they evacuated the planet and flew back into space. The soldiers that Sylvia had injured were taken to the infirmary, though there wasn’t anything too serious.
Hater spent the rest of the night playing video games in an effort to erase that entire day from history. Dodging fireballs from giant space lizards always put his mind at ease. He wouldn’t have to remember Wander’s affectionate simper, or his soothing words. The way he completely understood what Hater was going through.
It was pretty unbelievable, Wander’s history sounded more like the origin story of a villain than a universally renowned hero. He had lost literally everything, and he still became the sweetest, fluffiest freak in existence. He wanted to help people, even after nobody helped him. He wasn’t going to use his experiences as an excuse to be terrible, something Hater wished he could understand.
He had come from a place so similar; there were no other creatures like Hater anywhere. He wasn’t born a skeleton, so he’s not a Bonehemian. He’s not a living chimpanzee, so he’s not really a primeape either. He’d never gotten to really belong with anything.
The fact that there was somebody out there that knew what it was like; a person who could even fathom what it was like to be the only one left in a species…
The fact that this person was so close...
...Wait, what happened to not thinking about it?
Thrown back to the present, Hater realized that his character had died in a lava trap while he was busy dazing off.
‘Uhg…’
Maybe he just needed a good night’s sleep...