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Purpled has a problem, and Tommy gives him an idea.
Kneeling on the floor of church Prime sits Tommy, holding a purple cross and having his eyes closed in deep concentration. While the faith passes by Purpled's measure of relevance, Tommy himself gets the cogs moving. There's scars splattered over his body like words of unknown stories being scrawled down in secret, and the L'manburg flag is painted on to the button of his backpack like the finishing cover of the book.
Vengeance marks it as something important, something useful. L'manburg had been important to Quackity, too, Purpled remembers. It wasn't the usual fact he would remember, but the rant about exclusion and corruption he had walked in on once had made it stick. Irony would drive the blade deeper than anything without leaving Purpled's sword any more red, so he scrounges his memory for anecdotes that will work as a grindstone for his coup. He finds one.
Soaked to the bone and oxygen turning sparse, Purpled lets his thinking stasis break. He tears himself away from the stream of water, hitting the floor with a splash and taking a heaving gasp of air. At the same time as Tommy screams in surprise, pulling out a sword, Purpled rolls and coughs out his question.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
"How did Eret betray you?"
The sentences melt into each other, turning into a mish-mash of nonsense. A stare seems to pass between the two as they measure each other and think. Then, Tommy falls back to support himself on the altar, sighing exasperatedly.
"Man, you have to fucking stop doing that. You'll scare the last living shit I have left in me, and it's also weird as fuck. Like, at least say hi before popping out of literal nowhere."
Purpled rolls his eyes from where he's lying on the floor, looking up at Tommy from upside-down and hearing his wet fringe and clothes drop onto the floor. So what if he wanted a nice thinking bath in the holy water of a church he didn't follow? That wasn’t too unusual! Totally Normal Human Behavior.
Still, to sate the young boy's ego, Purpled complies. "Hey Tommy, nice day we have here. How did Eret betray you?" So generous. Look at him go.
Tommy blinks, opens his mouth, closes it, processes the question, and opens it again. "What?"
"I said, 'hey Tommy, ni-"
"Like, in the L'manburg revolution?" Tommy asks, a thick mist of bittersweet memories having flocked like clouds around his head. Probably feeling the thin air, he sits down completely.
"No, the second team of drugvan soldiers."
"...So, yes?" Tommy clarifies.
Purpled snorts. "Yes."
"Well." Tracing a fading scar on his neck, he seems to drift away to another time. Hazy eyes, he contemplates, then shakes his head before he continues speaking. "She tricked us, y'know? Not to bring up bad blood, it took a while to get over it in the first place and this is something of the past, but it wasn't exactly easy to forget." Under his breath, he adds. "My first life, too."
"I understand that much," Purpled says. "But how did it happen? Details please."
Tommy raises an eyebrow.
Purpled tilts his head back at him. "A bit much?"
"A bit. You're lucky I'm such a big man that I'll answer anyways. I understand the luxurious life of Tommy Careful Danger Kraken Innit is a mystery to all. Also, I could try talking to someone who won't give me pity eyes." His tone hops between playful and serious. "Anyways, we were in between two battles during the war when it happened. We were high on the feeling of not being on the losing side, for our last one, when Eret told us they had a surprise. A secret weapon, or some shit like that. I mean, we would have taken anything at that point. We ate it right up!"
For a second, mirth blossoms in his eyes and dances across old tales that Purpled never has been privy to himself. He can't quite comprehend the fact that he is standing next to someone that experienced them firsthand. Then, since they both know how that story ended, Tommy grits his teeth. All at once, Purpled remembers the scars had once been wounds.
"Trust was never a problem, she didn't have to do much convincing to get us to follow her into a tunnel. It looked so legit," he almost whines. "And in some way it was. Weapons were held at the end, I guess, they would just not be made for our hands, but held at our throats. You see, well, you've probably heard how he lead us to a room with these fake chests, one for us each. In the middle was a button, and I couldn't wait so-" He stops. "The button was pushed. The entrance closed behind us, he had made sure it was inescapable, and pistons set their hidden troop loose against us."
Purpled is silent. Tommy shrugs. "The rest was a slaughter."
"Oh." He frowns, battered with emotions he would rather not handle. To some degree of success, he manages to shake them off, at least set their due for later.
"Yeah," Tommy laughs.
Pushing himself up, Purpled takes a few unsure steps backwards towards the exit. "Thanks for telling me."
Tommy looks away. "No problem. Thanks for listening."
"Yeah, no worries," he mutters, taking another two steps. "I gotta go, then."
Looking mostly unperturbed, only tired, Tommy holds his hand up in a wave. "Bye Purp."
He waves back. "Bye Tommy."
"And-" Foot on the threshold, he waits for a second, looking Tommy in the eyes. "Let's talk again sometime soon."
Tommy's mouth twists into somewhat of a grin. "Sure."
The alarms have rung. It isn't going to stop him.
"-I have something about Las Nevadas too, alright? Someone left a chest."
They believe him. If Purpled wasn't who he was, the slight twinge of his heart could have swayed him.
If Quackity wanted a L'manburg of his own, he would suffer the consequences of its founding. Let the nation be founded on coagulated lava, once burning forth but now stagnant stability, instead of the lofty sands of an artificial desert.
"What is in there? What is in there? What did they leave?
"Wait, Purpled, there's not-" Charlie cuts himself off, eyes darting fearfully from the chest to where Purpled is standing. Somehow, they seem to lose their shine, and resigned defeat takes over. He knows what is about to happen. "Oh."
Down with the house. It was never meant to be.
He pulls the lever.