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There were rumors that if your soulmate was a hybrid, you’d begin to show them. Develop a physical symbol of your bond to one another.
It started with Big B, of course. No one exactly though he’d sprouted dog ears overnight for no reason. Ren was, well, not overly excited by any means but he wasn’t displeased. It led to a lot more ear scratches and having someone finally understand why shouting is so grating. It’d be a lie to say Big B wasn’t… at least a little deflated by the mundane reaction.
Maybe he was expecting more, who’s to say? No one was talking about that part. No, everyone is talking about the rumor. Wondering what sort of inhuman trait they’ll gain over time. Bdubs began telling people the bumps on his head were the beginning of demonic horns he’d gotten from latent genes on Impulse’s half. Scott suggested maybe Martyn was taking on some more undead qualities, though no one could really tell if that was from a soul bond or his lacking sleep schedule. The biggest evidence so far was that Tango had sprouted a new pair of golden canary wings to match his soulmate, who’d grown a bit warmer to the touch in return.
But besides that, there wasn’t much. Grian was wholly unconvinced. Pearl and Scott were both sort-of hybrids in their own rights and nothing had happened between them. Martyn and Cleo? Nothing. Etho and Joel? Nope.
Him and Scar ?
“Do you think I’ll get wings?”
Grian shakes his head clear of thought and arches an eyebrow, chin perched on his palm, “What?”
“Wings!” Scar repeats, excitably, glancing up from where he stands at the counter, chopping lengths of bamboo into digestible bites, “You know! Feathers and stuff?” He gestures between them with the blade of his machete, “We’re soulmates. You’re a hybrid. It seems like that does things to the bond– Do you think I might get some?”
“First of all, I know what wings are .” Grian huffs, his own short cropped pair giving an aborted flap behind him, “Secondly, I think that’s all bull. I don’t think there’s actually a mechanic in this game that gives you your soulmate’s features or whatever.”
“But Tango –”
“If you can genuinely tell me what kind of hybrid Tango is, I’ll say it’s possible.”
Scar pauses, then screws up his face in a pout, “Alright. Fair. What’s your point?”
“I’m–” He sighs, “I’m not saying it’s not strange, I just mean it could be a Tango thing. And Bdubs doesn’t exactly have a track record for honesty this season.” Grian’s fingers drum, fast and nervous, on the table.
“Well! You just have an explanation for everything, huh?” Scar chuckles. It peeters off into silence. Grian sitting quietly at the table as Scar uses the knife to shovel bamboo into his canvas bag. Must be feeding time soon.
Scar puts down his tools and stares at the absence of chopped Jellie meal before him for a long time. Grian’s shoulders raise to his ears, fidgeting with the sleeves of his sweater. The atmosphere pulls achingly at his muscles.
“And Big B?” Scar asks, subdued.
Yeah, he can’t do this today.
Grian stands, chair screeching against the floor as it’s shoved back. He reaches over and snatches his own pack from across the counter and throws it over his shoulder, “Right, I think I should go find out what the others are doing. It’s been too quiet lately. Ever since Timmy’s place burned, there’s just not been anything that fun–” He laughs weakly, “Yeah, uh, just… Message me if you need me. Don’t die.” He pushes out through the front door and the fresh air brings life back to his suffocating lungs.
He doesn’t need to answer Scar. Why would Grian know how any of this works? He didn’t make the damn thing. Why should he know?
Yeah. Yeah.
Grian tries to put it behind him, moving on past the cluttered bases and out into open grass fields. A much more welcoming sight than the spiked roofs he lived in.
Oh! And–
“Big B!” A grin spreads across his face. He can’t take off, but Grian does a small jump and pushes as hard as he can to tackle the other with all his might. Both him and Big B go tumbling to the ground, head over heels.
Despite the yelp, dare he say; His secret soulmate is happy to see him too. Big B is all bright smiles and sunlight, even when he lands basically prone next to Grian from the aerial attack. He laughs, high and sweet, “Hi!”
Grian takes a moment to glance around for any watchful eyes, grateful for the Rancher’s large wall that semi-hides them from the rest of the server. He probably should’ve done that before the tackle, god forbid Ren think he’s attacking him–
When his quick scan comes back empty, not a single other person in sight, Grian reaches down and over to pull Big B into a hug. He tries to ignore the scratch of fur against his cheek when he eventually lets go.
“How are you?” He asks, idly brushing a stray strand of grass from Big B’s shoulder.
He shrugs, easily taking off his sunglasses and folding them, “I’m alright, I’m alright,” Grian’s glad to see the thing gone. He much prefers seeing him without, “But honestly, Grian,” He can already hear him building up to a joke in his tone. He smiles preemptively, “Doing much better now that I’m with you.”
Grian lets out a myriad of ‘awes’ and shoves him gently with his shoulder, laughing,
“Cheesy.” He jokes.
“Ren went off with Martyn again, you know how it is.” Big B adds after a moment, gratefully allowing for long breaks of quiet between them.
Simply to enjoy the warm atmosphere of a summer hitting its peak afternoon heat. Grian scoots a little bit closer to him, turning on his side to let his wings catch the breeze. With his chin resting on Big B’s arm, stomach pressed against the dirt, Grian wonders if he could fall asleep here. Laying in the grass, under the sun.
Big B stretches out his arm to invite him closer, “But, ah, how are you and Scar…?” His voice begins teetering uncertainly. It must be obvious to him too how strained the relationship had gotten over the past few days.
Scar’s not dumb after all. He may be a little hopeless in some scenarios, but he hasn’t come close to winning twice now because he didn’t have a keen eye and mind.
“Ridiculous.” He says instead, “I don’t know– We’re pretty much avoiding the discussion altogether. Who knows where he stands, I certainly don’t.” Grian throws his hands up in wild exasperation. It’s a bit over the top, he’ll be honest, but so was everything here.
Big B laughs at that, nodding, “Yeah, alright, I get that.” He glances over at him briefly, before fixing his gaze back on the sky above them. He curls a band of grass through his fingers, “Did you hear about the rumors going around?”
“I wish people would stop asking me that.” Grian sighs, burying his face into the soft blue fabric of Big B’s sweater.
“Sorry, sorry.” He chuckles, “But, y’know, have you– I mean you obviously know , but–” He stops himself short and when Grian looks up, Big B’s eyes are narrow, brows furrowed with contempt and mild frustration.
It doesn’t fit him though, so he raises a hand to run his thumb between his brow, smoothing out the wrinkles. “It’s fine.” Grian clarifies, “Yeah, I’ve heard. Scar’s not sprouting wings if that’s what you’re worried about. Didn’t exactly take you for a jealous type, though.”
“No! No, no–” Big B turns to him, eyes wide, “No, that’s not– What? I’m not jealous – I–” He groans, running a hand down his face, “Oh my goodness . This is going awfully.”
Grian laughs, “It’s okay if you are– ” He teases.
“I’m not! I would never–! Grian –” Big B whines, pouting when Grian’s face is split by a mischievous smile, “Dude, c’mon, I’m tryin’ to be kinda serious.”
“Okay, okay. What’s up?”
“Just, do you think like… Scott and Cleo have that? The trait sharing stuff?”
Grian hums in thought, “I’d imagine so. Scott’s a bit of a tricky one when it comes to ‘hybrid’ stuff though, so I’ve no idea what Pearl would gain from that.”
“No, no, like between him and Cleo.”
Well, now he’s truly puzzled, “What, like if Cleo ended up giving Scott… I dunno, zombie things?”
“Yeah!” Big B shrugs, “Like, they’re not soulbound, but they’re soulmates, y’know? More than them and their actual soulbound.”
“B, I’m not even sure it’s an actual mechanic in the game. For all I know, it's a coincidence. An extremely strange coincidence? Sure. But still a coincidence.”
Why’s it matter? Why all the sudden soulmate talk? It can’t be that Big B is just curious. This feels leading in a way, but Grian doesn’t… like the way it’s leading.
For all his teasing of jealousy, Grian is finding himself oddly envious of Ren these days.
“I’m just saying, like, what if it only happens if you’re close to someone? They’re soulmates and it’s not happening, but it is with Tango and Jimmy! Maybe it depends on who you’re with and if you like them.”
Grian sits up, unlatching himself from Big B’s side, his voice no longer playful, “What are you getting at? Listen, B, I-I don’t care about Ren and the stupid ears, okay? If you’re trying to say you still care about Ren, that’s fine, I don’t mind. We’re secret soulmates, right? I– Just– Can we stop talking about it now?” The last part comes out a bit more vitriolic than he intends it to be.
Gah, hell. Grian needs to apologize. That was too far and he can’t be mad about the thing he agreed to, by gods and–
Big B’s head is in his hands, mumbling.
“What? Wait, hey, B, you alright? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped, what’s–?”
He pulls his hands away, leaning over Big B and squeezing his palms softly. To his surprise, he doesn’t look at all upset or really even sad. Just… kind of embarrassed? Cheeks flush, lips pressed together in a line, eyes darting away from catching Grian’s gaze.
“B? I didn’t hear you, is everything okay?” He asks, his concern growing.
Big B sucks in a breath, saying very, very, softly; “ I might be growing wings?”
Oh. Oh.
He’s absolutely stunned. Well, of course it makes sense now . Or… less sense, maybe?
“How…?” Grian balks.
“I don’t know!” Big B squeaks, “I have no clue, man! I just woke up and my back hurt and y’know, to be fair, back pain isn’t super uncommon and I’d been working on Box the day before and–”
“Can I see?” The words blurt out before Grian can really properly think them through. It’s probably not the best idea right now, they’re in the middle of a field . But… he’s curious. And maybe a little selfishly hopeful.
Big B blinks, “Sure.” He sits up and pulls, very carefully, the blue sweater over his head. Apparently he’d thought through the whole clothing issue because the button up underneath it already had slits haphazardly cut into the fabric. And through them, a small, rather crumpled, pair of golden and blue wings stretched to their full width, not even half of his.
For a moment there’s a small, again selfish, bead of disappointment with the lacking stripes of red blue and yellow he’s grown to recognize from his own pair. However it’s quickly overpowered by a new, more exciting, revelation.
“They’re macaw wings,” He lets slip, reaching forward to gently brush his fingers over the golden inside, the vibrant blues inlaid above them, “Different type than mine. But still macaw. Still a pesky bird.” Grian lets out a little laugh at that, eyes glimmering bright as he turns back to the owner of said wings.
Big B looks so unerringly fond as he speaks, “Yeah, I– Even if I didn’t get them, we’d still be soulmates. True soulmates. It’s us, dude, but…” He awkwardly flexes the new limb, in and out from his body to stretch wide, “Well. You’re never gettin’ rid of me now.”
“I would never want to be rid of you,” Grian breathes out, “We’re soulmates.”
“Secret soulmates.” Big B says back, “Always have been. Now I have the wings to prove it.”
Grian practically squeals though he’ll never admit it, leaping forward to pull the other into a hug with his wings wrapped entirely around the other. His heart soars, muttering about how having wings is amazing and he’ll show him how to keep them clean– Maybe even glide if they can manage it.
Ren can have his time, the ears, the glasses. He can have that part of Big B if he wanted it. Grian had come to terms with it, as well as he could.
Grian and Big B, together, had something much greater. Something hidden beneath shaded trees and colorful feathers. And it was theirs, each other’s, the two of them.
“Forever and always.” Grian hums to him when the excitement turns to a gentle peace and his eyelids droop under the drowsy wake of a busy afternoon. Big B hand, still tangled and brushing through his hair, echoes back; “Forever and always.”