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Standing before the Council, Mumbo finds himself feeling nervous. His heart beats in his chest, anything but a steady rhythm. It’s erratic, pushing against his ribcage as it beats angrily, as if wanting to escape a cage that has trapped it. He can hear the sound of his heart thrumming in his ears, and it’s nearly overwhelming. Beneath his clothes, he can feel himself sweating from nerves. His hands shake, unable to keep still.
He thinks he has plenty of things to be worried about, all things considered. He hasn’t been summoned by the Council in many years, mostly because he’s stayed under their radar. That’s been purposeful, avoiding direct contact with them.
But that isn’t possible now, not after what’s happened. He can’t avoid this.
Mumbo stands in a large hall, one with high arches and ceilings. There are windows on the upper half of the walls, but they’ve been tinted. If Mumbo remembers correctly, this place was once an old gothic church many years ago. The floor he stands on is made of old stone that’s been placed in large patches. The ceiling holds long chains with chandeliers made of candles at the ends that help to light the building.
He stands at the end of the hall, but his eyes are trained on the thirteen individuals ahead of him. On the other end of the hall sits the members of the Council. They all rest in large chairs, positioned in a way that forms a half circle with the placement of their seats. Behind them is a giant statue of a woman. She is sculpted with a dress that goes down to the platform her statue is on, with a cloth covering her hair. In her hands is a stake, and her eyes are closed. Around the bottom portion of the platform, candles litter the ground.
He’s never liked this building, never enjoyed how small it makes him feel. The Council has purposefully been placed far from him in some kind of display of power. They are far from him, unreachable. It puts a bad taste in his mouth.
“Lord Mumbo,” One of the councilmen speaks, catching his attention. His eyes flicker over to the speaker. “You are to state what occurred in Aqua Town’s black market a few nights ago, and you are to include every detail of what took place,” he says.
For a moment, Mumbo locks eyes with Doc. The vampire is frowning, but he gives Mumbo a nod.
He sighs softly and nods his own head, resisting the urge to fidget with his hands. “As you are all well aware, there is a supernatural being running loose in Aqua Town and killing both monster and human. Under Lord Doc’s instruction, I began to investigate.”
“And what of the human that has been seen accompanying you?” Mumbo’s gaze shifts to meet two red eyes curved in amusement, and he resists the urge to scowl at Scott. Of course he wouldn’t let him get away with just that. “I personally saw him with you at the Black Market, may I remind you, Lord Mumbo.”
“My investigation led me to believe there was a chance someone could have been using a binding curse. I went to the Black Market to look into it, and I brought the human along, yes,” Mumbo answers, choosing to leave out some details. The Council doesn’t need the full story, they are not privy to it.
There seems to be a note of hesitance that hangs in the air before someone speaks. “This human… does he still walk with knowledge of our world?”
Mumbo frowns, “Well er… yes, he does.” He bites the inside of his cheek, considering his next words, “He’s… something of a friend.”
First there is silence. And then there is noise, like that of a loud eruption. The councilmen begin to murmur with disbelief and disgust. It all happens at once, and Mumbo knows he’s dug himself a second grave.
One of the councilmen brings his fist down, the sound echoing throughout the hall. It immediately causes the others to fall quiet. “Unacceptable! This human should have been dealt with immediately!” he exclaims, anger lacing his voice. “Lord Mumbo, do you understand what you are putting at risk by allowing him to walk around with the knowledge of our world?! He is a human! Do not allow yourself to become attached to such foolish fantasies as friendship!” he spits the word out as if it were venom from a snake, poisonous and deadly.
Mumbo’s jaw tightens, fingers digging into his palms as his fists clench. He bites back any spite filled words, trying to keep his temper about him. Arguing with the Council will only make things worse.
“Calm yourself, Lord Astaroth.” A voice rings out, distracting Mumbo from his thoughts for now. “Have some self restraint. I say we simply erase the human’s memory of this, seeing as the situation has been handled.”
A jolt of panic runs down Mumbo’s spine. Erase Grian’s memory? After everything? They want to make Grian forget him?
Mumbo thinks he should be happy. Shouldn’t he? He isn’t someone who deserves such a kindness as Grian, and his past self certainly would have jumped at the opportunity to get Grian out of his hair. Yet here he is with the very real threat of Grian forgetting him looming right over his head and the thought makes a heavy feeling sit on his chest. He thinks of laughter and picnics and warmth and humanity.
He thinks of how human Grian is. How Grian is everything that Mumbo is not, and how desperately Mumbo wants to protect that. He told himself he would, that he would do everything in his power to keep Grian’s humanity safe. It’s selfish, he knows. It’s selfish to want to protect a human he truly doesn’t know all that well. He and Grian have only known each other for a little over a month, yet Mumbo finds himself unable to picture himself going back to his vastly empty manor alone.
Years ago, he was content with the loneliness his manor offered him.
Now? He can’t bear the thought of it.
“No!” His mouth opens without his consent, vehemently denying the idea. Thirteen heads whip toward him, making Mumbo snap his mouth shut for a moment. What is he doing?! Arguing with the Council is only going to make this more challenging! He hesitates at the thought, taking a small step back.
He thinks of Grian taking an arrow for him, just because he didn’t want to see him hurt. He thinks of Grian’s thoughtfulness.
“Even if I did have other friends in town, I still would’ve chosen to spend my day off with you.”
Tightening his fists, he sets his jaw firm and makes himself stand tall. Screw not arguing, he’s not going to let them just make a choice for Grian when he isn’t even here.
Mumbo will fight for him in his absence.
“Grian isn’t a threat to us, and I know he isn’t a risk to everything those who came before me sought to establish!” he exclaims. “I know he wouldn’t do anything to put the supernaturals of Aqua Town in danger, so don’t take his memories away! Please allow him to keep them!” Please don’t make him forget me.
“That is an unreasonable request,” someone says. “You are asking us to take a chance on a human you hardly know! There are rules in place for this type of situation for a reason, Lord Mumbo!”
He shrinks back, biting his lip. He knows they’re right. It is because they wipe any memories of their existence from humans that they’ve been able to maintain peace. It is because of that that humans and supernaturals are able to coexist without issue.
But Mumbo doesn’t want to be forgotten. He… he wants to continue to be Grian’s friend. He enjoys the human’s presence. He wants…
“May I propose something?” Mumbo’s eyes snap toward Doc, surprised by the man’s voice. He sits in his chair looking relaxed, unbothered by the conversation. But Mumbo knows better. He lived with the man for many years after all. He sees the subtle way in which Doc’s eyebrows knit together, the way his lips quirk down. He can see the tension in his face. “Why not allow the human to become an consultant for us?” he suggests.
“What?!”
“Excuse me?”
The Council begins to murmur, each looking at one another with uncertainty. Their murmurs are incoherent, leaving Mumbo unable to hear exactly what they’re saying — even with his advanced hearing. Yet he only has eyes for Doc, as he stares at the vampire with wide eyes.
“Think about it, we haven’t had an consultant in years. It’s been harder and harder these days to find someone who wants to be involved. Yet this boy is already quite involved, and if Lord Mumbo’s reaction is anything to go by, I feel confident in assuming the boy doesn’t want to forget either,” Doc explains, eyes focusing on Mumbo.
“I agree,” Mumbo blinks as someone speaks. “It would be much easier to make this human our new consultant. He is already involved after all. Wouldn’t it be beneficial to have him fill the role?”
“No! It should be someone carefully picked! Do you hear yourself Lord Frey? We cannot trust some random human who just so happened to fall into our way of life! Do not use such foolish judgement Lord Doc!” There is a bit of argument from another council member, who turns to look at Doc with a scowl.
Doc growls in response, “My judgement is just fine, Lord Dorian. I am simply thinking of the most beneficial choice available to us.”
Silence follows for a moment.
“I say we put it to a vote,” One of the Council members suggests, and Mumbo stiffens. Leaving it up to a vote is simply allowing the odds to go in any direction.
He bites his lip, watching as each vampire nods in agreement. The fight is out of his hands, and he can only hope that Doc has managed to sway at least the majority of them.
“All in favor of erasing the human’s memories?” Five hands go up, and Mumbo can feel his nails against the fabric of his gloves.
His heart beats in his chest, filling him with nervousness. He doesn’t want to lose Grian, not when he’s made such a prominent imprint on Mumbo’s life.
“All in favor of allowing the human to become our consultant?” He almost doesn’t want to look, but he can’t tear his eyes away, feeling like if he does, they may lose the votes they need. He fears that if he looks away, he will lose any future with Grian.
Eight hands rise.
When the meeting ends, Mumbo finds himself feeling a mix of emotions. Relief, anger, frustration, fear. He stands in his spot at the end of the hall, watching as the Council disappears one by one. He doesn’t particularly care about where they go as they slink along the shadows and disappear from sight. His thoughts are elsewhere right now, specifically focused on the predicament that he and Grian have found themselves in. And Grian isn’t even here.
Oh gosh what is he going to tell Grian?
A verdict has been made, and no matter how much Mumbo may not have wanted Grian all that involved in his world, it seems he has no say in this. He’s been pulled in, and Mumbo fears that he may not be able to loosen the coil that’s steadily tying itself around the human. And it’s a choice where Grian has had no say in the matter.
(Logically Mumbo knows that he does. Grian has full choice to decline the offer and choose to keep himself out of the shadows and in the light. But that choice comes with him losing his memories of the world he’s stumbled upon. Is that something that Grian wants? That isn’t even something Mumbo has stopped to consider. He… hopes not. He hopes Grian doesn’t want to forget him.)
He sits back and watches the area until there are only three of the council members left. Mumbo purses his lips, arms crossed as he waits. His eyes follow Doc specifically, mainly because he has quite the bone to pick with him. He’s pressed himself up against the shadows, waiting. One of the member’s exits, Lord Lucius, if Mumbo remembers correctly. He’s slow to make his exit, long gray hair falling in front of his clouded eyes. Mumbo tears his gaze away, focusing directly on Doc.
As far as he’s concerned, it’s only Doc and himself left in this big hall. And unlike the other councilmen, Mumbo knows that he can bridge the distance between himself and Doc.
So Mumbo leaves the shadows. He creeps out from the sidelines and makes his way over to Doc right before the man can leave. He falls in line behind him, arm reaching out. It is moments like this where Mumbo is reminded that despite their vastly different positions, they are equals. Doc has always been a sort of… unique vampire. He doesn’t subscribe to this idea that he is better simply because of his position on the Council. He’s certainly never forced this belief on Mumbo.
It is the fact that Mumbo can stop Doc in his tracks, grab him by the shoulder, and glare.
Doc freezes almost immediately, head turning to the side to meet Mumbo’s less than pleased expression. “Mumbo—”
“What were you thinking?” Mumbo hisses, cutting him off. His face pinches together in stress, brows furrowing as his lips are tugged down.
For just a moment, Doc looks incredibly confused by the question, as there are a lot of ways he could answer. It all depends on what Mumbo is talking about. However, given where they are, he has a rather good guess at what Mumbo is on about. “Mumbo,” he tries again, only to be cut off once more.
“I mean really, do you have any idea of what life you’ve signed Grian up for?!” The frustration is rolling off of Mumbo in big tumultuous waves, and Doc doesn’t think he’s ever seen him so protective over someone since Grum and Jrum.
“I do,” Doc answers, brows knitting together, “But we didn’t exactly have any other choice. It was either that or…” he trails off. “It’s the better option.”
Mumbo knows he’s right, to a certain degree. Setting Grian up as an consultant protects his memories, and it brings him closer to Mumbo. But he doesn’t like it. He despises the idea. He’s never wanted Grian anywhere near the Council. Yet that doesn’t help the way his insides twist and turn at the mere thought of Grian getting wrapped up in their messy politics. Accompanied by that twisting feeling is anger. There is an undeniable pit of anger burning in his stomach. At the council, at himself, at Doc.
He knows Doc is right. But he’s still going to be angry about it.
“You’ve basically painted a target on his back!” he exclaims, unable to keep himself from exploding. “You know just as well as I do that they won’t care. They won’t care that Grian is human, and they will play him like a puppet. They will use him until he is no longer useful and then throw him away! And not to mention the types of things that’ll be after him if word spreads. How is this possibly the better option?!”
“I’m very much aware, yes,” Doc replies, but his tone is patient, understanding. His eyes give away to just how unhappy he is with this idea, “I don’t like this any more than you do. I do not want to put an innocent human into such a…” Doc’s eyes survey the area around them, as if reminding Mumbo of where they both are, “demanding position. But I saw how much the prospect of his memories being wiped affected you. It was the only thing I could think of that would promise his safety.”
Mumbo can’t help the bitter laugh that leaves him, “What safety, Doc?” he asks. “His memories may be safe for now, but should Grian accept this — which he will — he’s never going to be safe again!”
“No, he won’t,” Doc solemnly agrees, voice low but just as understanding as it was before. “But I will keep an eye on him. As I’m sure you will,” he gently points out, a knowing look in his eyes.
“Of course I will,” Mumbo replies, with a tone that very much says obviously. “But that shouldn’t have been a decision for you and the rest of the Council to make. Not without him here,” he grumbles, a stubborn frown on his face.
Something in Doc’s face softens, and his gaze changes. He looks at Mumbo, really looks at him. He had seen it before, back during the meeting. This human has certainly wormed his way into Mumbo’s inner circle. He sees something in Mumbo that he hasn’t seen since the younger one knocked on his door and begged him to save those two boys all those years ago. Care. His eyes burn with it, along with this fierce protection. Doc had seen how torn up Mumbo was over the idea of the human’s memories being wiped. It had shocked him then, and it shocks him now.
But it also makes him a little curious. Well, more than a little curious. “I’m sorry, Mumbo,” he apologizes, and his voice is sincere. “Though… this human is certainly important to you, isn’t he?” His voice is gentle as he says it, as it meant to be a simple observation rather than a condescending remark. It almost edges on something fond, teasing.
Mumbo makes a noise, straightening up in return. It makes Doc chuckle softly, knowing he’s hit the nail on the head. He’s glad that Mumbo is finally branching out of that lonely manor of his. And making friends with a human? Well, forgive Doc for being curious about what kind of person this Grian character is. “I look forward to meeting him,” he hums, offering Mumbo a smile before he too disappears.
As Doc disappears, Mumbo sighs softly. He relaxes slightly, a bit relieved to know that Doc will also be keeping an eye on Grian. He still isn’t happy about this idea, he doesn’t think he ever will be. “This is why I told him to stay out of it,” he grumbles to himself, frowning. “He’s too stubborn for his own good sometimes.” Mumbo supposes that Grian’s circumstances haven’t exactly helped in keeping him away.
“Well, that certainly wasn’t how I was expecting things to end.”
Mumbo’s insides turn to ice at the sound of that voice. He freezes right where he stands, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. He had hoped that he’d be able to get out of here without being pulled into a conversation with him. But as fate would have it, it has other ideas. He inhales sharply before turning around to face the steady footsteps approaching him.
Before him is Scott, red eyes brimming with glee. It sends a shiver down Mumbo’s spine, and what accompanies it are memories he’d rather not think about. The vampire’s silver hair is tied back in a long braid, one that hangs on his shoulder. He wears a cocky smirk on his face, and as he stops to stand in front of Mumbo, his hand falls to his hip. “It’s been quite a while since I’ve seen you, Mumbo, the Black Market aside.”
The clothes he’s dressed in are the epitome of gothic, with the dark and open tail coat. He wears a white blouse underneath, one with a fancy collar and all. There’s a pair of gloves on his hands, and a pocket watch hanging from the pocket of his coat.
“Scott,” Mumbo bites the words, making sure that there’s as much venom as possible.
It makes the vampire laugh, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Come on, is that any way to greet your Sire?” he asks in mock offense. “I figured we could chit chat and catch up like old friends.”
“We aren’t friends. I have nothing to say to you,” Mumbo retorts sharply. “I have other things to attend to, so if you’re only going to waste my time, I’ll be going.” He feels tense, body ready to bolt.
“What, running off to your little human?” Scott hums, tilting his head curiously. “You know, between now and back at the market, I haven’t seen you react like that since—”
Anger flares through Mumbo like a scorching flame, “Don’t,” He hisses, causing the vampire to chuckle lightly.
“Still a sore point, hm? That’s fine. Though, Mumbo, I am curious. Befriending a human isn’t like you, let alone being so protective of one. You’re too… hmm, deep in your own pity party for something like that?” Scott hums, and Mumbo glares at him. “I wonder if there’s more to it?” He taps his chin.
“It’s none of your business,” Mumbo tells him, trying to end this discussion as quickly as he possibly can.
“I just want to understand! That human is obviously important to you. Do you feed on him? Have you gotten yourself a potential thrall?” Scott questions, looking at him with a sickeningly curious gaze.
Mumbo feels his blood run hot, as if it were about to burn him from the inside out. He looks at Scott with nothing but a loathing, scorched hatred. The implication that Grian is something to be fed on, as well as the thought of Mumbo ever doing something as cruel as to make Grian a thrall sends disgust right through him. It takes all of Mumbo’s self restraint to not lash out for the underhanded comment. “You have no right to talk about him like that,” Mumbo speaks through gritted teeth, body feeling tense.
Scott studies him for a moment, and Mumbo wants to shrink far away from him. His eyes still shine with amusement, “Well, that’s an interesting development. So nothing blood related. Of course, how very typical of you, Mumbo.”
Mumbo glares at him once again, and he holds his hands out placatingly, “A monster and a human being friends. I wonder how long that’ll last.” Scott offers him a polite smile, though Mumbo can easily tell how it’s something fabricated. His smile is twisted, filled with sick pleasure at seeing Mumbo so bothered. “It was nice seeing you again, Mumbo!” He offers Mumbo a wave before disappearing.
“That makes one of us,” Mumbo mutters darkly before turning on his heel and leaving.
He’s never hated something so much.
Grian watches as Mumbo walks around in his study, practically pacing in circles. Mumbo has a nervous energy about him as he switches between wringing his hands together and setting a hand on his chin. His gaze seems dark, stormy. He looks concerned about something, and he’s looked like this ever since Grian stepped in through the door. Mumbo had practically dragged him into the study, telling Grum and Jrum to head upstairs as they had important matters to discuss. Except… it's been nearly fifteen minutes and Mumbo hasn’t said a word to Grian.
He can only watch the vampire for so long before he snaps.
“Mumbo!” he cries, “dude relax! You’re gonna wear a hole in the carpet or something.”
His voice seems to snap Mumbo out of his stupor, and the vampire halts in his movements. He stops his pacing, head snapping up to look over at Grian. “Sorry, what?”
Grian sighs softly, feeling concern bubbling in his gut. He stands up from the chair he had previously been sitting in and walks over to Mumbo. “I’ve been watching you walk around in circles since I got here. What’s going on?” he questions.
Mumbo frowns at his inquiry, face twisting with conflict and hesitation. He reaches out to Grian, sets his hands on Grian’s shoulders. His touch is light, and he squeezes Grian. He isn’t sure if he’s imagining things, but it almost feels like there’s a smidge of desperation driving his actions. “I swear I’ll tell you. I’m just – waiting for someone.”
“You said that ten minutes ago,” Grian points out, his frown mirroring Mumbo’s own. “How much longer are we going to have to wait?”
A cough from behind them causes them both to freeze in place. “I’m not interrupting, am I?”
Mumbo releases Grian’s shoulders immediately, taking a step back. Grian turns around to face the doorway. He comes face to face with a tall, dark green haired man. He has equally green eyes, with little flakes of emerald within them. He wears a lab coat over a button up, though the first couple of buttons are undone. He’s looking at the two of them with amusement.
“Doc!” Mumbo exclaims, and Grian does a double take.
“He’s Doc?!” Grian certainly did not picture him whenever Mumbo had mentioned the vampire. He had always pictured someone who’s very existence was larger than life. In his mind, Doc dressed similarly to Mumbo, and had an air about him that made it clear with his presence alone that he was someone important. Though, he’ll give the man points, he’s definitely an intimidating figure.
Doc flashes him a smile as he walks into the room, “You must be Grian. You’ve caused quite the stir with the Council.”
Grian blinks at that, looking over at Mumbo with confusion. “A stir?” By what, being at the Black Market? He knows that Mumbo had told him it was kind of a big deal that he was there, considering humans aren’t technically allowed. But was it really a big enough deal to cause such an issue?
“Why don’t we all take a seat?” Mumbo gestures at the chairs rather than offering an answer.
Frowning slightly, Grian moves to sit in one of the chairs, getting himself situated in his seat. Mumbo takes a seat beside him on his right, leaving Doc to the couch on his left.
There’s a heavy silence that hangs in the air as Doc and Mumbo both seem to struggle with picking their words. Neither look particularly happy, despite the easy going smile on Doc’s face previously. Grian looks between the two of them, feeling the tension slowly rising in the air. It threatens to swallow him whole, and Grian explodes, taking a knife to cut it.
“Will someone please just spit it out already?!”
Doc’s gaze flickers to him, and there’s still amusement held within his gaze. Though there’s also something grim there, sincere and sorrowful. “The Council would like to make you our official human consultant.”
Grian pauses. “Sorry what?” He stares at Doc, as waiting for him to say sike.
Except Doc does not burst into laughter and admit to it being a joke, for his lips tilt down, brows following. “Mumbo?” Doc prompts.
Grian turns to look over at him, hoping for some kind of answer. Mumbo meets his eyes, and Grian sees a similar expression on his face as Doc’s.
“I was called to meet with the Council because of what happened at the Black Market. They were erm, less than pleased? To hear that you were involved with me,” he explains. He doesn’t say anything else for a moment, as if hesitating with his following words. As if he’s afraid of how Grian will choose to react to what comes next.
“What’d they say?” Grian gently prods, brows furrowing in concern.
“They…” Mumbo purses his lips together. “Regular humans aren’t supposed to mix with monsters, all things considered. And when humans like you accidentally stumble on our kind, the Council uh… well uh, they erase your memories of us, to put it simply.”
Grian’s breath hitches. He could… lose his memories of Mumbo?
His gaze drops to his lap where his hands rest. There’s a chance that he could lose all of this. His memories of Mumbo, of Grum and Jrum. Oh god, would he forget what happened to Taurtis?
Fear ripples through him, as if someone has tossed a rock along the surface of a pond. It comes in waves the longer he thinks about the possibility of forgetting Mumbo, creating little bursts of panic at the thought.
The very idea alone of forgetting Mumbo is enough to make him freeze.
Mumbo is one of the first friends he’s made in Aqua Town. The first person that Grian feels like he’s connected with. There’s something so easy about hanging out with Mumbo. Something that makes Grian want to be around him more. He likes being friends with Mumbo. It’s fun, natural.
And maybe part of it is he’s curious. There’s still so much about Mumbo that Grian doesn’t know about. He wants to learn all he can, to step into the window that Mumbo has offered and turn it into a door, one that Mumbo invites him into, fully and completely.
Mumbo has become so integral to Grian’s routine that he’s certain he’d always feel that hole left behind if he ever forgot him. He doesn’t want to forget him.
And if he were to forget what happened to Taurtis… Grian can’t stomach the thought.
There’s a spark of protest that lights within him, enough that it’s able to burst into a brilliant flame.
It’s fierce and overwhelming as it roars, burning him from the inside out. He clenches his fists, feeling the fire working its way through his bloodstream. He refuses to let the Council take his memories of Mumbo away, and he’s not afraid to fight tooth and nail to stop them.
“No,” he says, shaking his head. His gaze shifts to Doc, who’s sitting silently, just watching them. His expression is unreadable, as if hidden behind a wall. Grian frowns at him, “No, you’re not touching my memories.”
Something in Mumbo caves in relief. His shoulders sag just slightly, and a little breath that he hadn’t realized he was holding escapes him.
“I don’t plan to, rest assured,” Doc returns, waving his hand dismissively. “The Council was certainly for it, but I offered an alternative.”
“The consultant thing,” Grian fills in, and Doc nods.
“Yes, exactly. You’d be expected to answer to the Council when we request you to do so. Maybe do a job or two for us every now and then. But you’d be completely free to live life as normal, memories completely intact,” the vampire explains, watching Grian for his reaction.
Grian doesn’t even have to think about it. “I’ll do it.”
“What, Grian, hold on!” Mumbo exclaims in protest, straightening up in his chair. “At least think about it first!” There’s a pleading note that rings in his voice as he speaks, something that Grian definitely doesn’t miss. “You don’t understand what you’re signing up for!”
“I don’t have to.” Grian looks over at him, face set in a steely determination. “The way I see it, this is probably the only way of not getting my memories erased.”
“It is,” Doc chimes in.
“Then the answer is obvious!” Grian says, nodding his head. “I’ll work for the Council. Whatever that fully entails.”
Doc looks at him curiously, “Grian, how much do you know about the Council?”
Grian hums in thought, trying to recall everything that Mumbo has mentioned to him before. “Uh, well, I know that there’s thirteen members, and you’re all vampires. And I think there was a fight?” he rattles off, looking at Doc with a bit of uncertainty.
The vampire whistles, seemingly impressed. “You know more than the average human. Congrats,” he chuckles. “But yes, you’re correct. There are thirteen of us, and we’ve ended up with the power of governing every supernatural being in existence. Though it’s a bit more complicated than that,” Doc hums, and Grian finds himself leaning forward with interest.
He hears Mumbo chuckle softly.
“Every creature has their own individual group they belong to. They’re all organized differently depending on community. For example, werewolves have packs, mages have guilds. Vampires have clans. Every council member is the head of one clan.” Doc watches Grian as he explains, green eyes alight with amusement at Grian’s eagerness for information.
“So that means there’d be thirteen clans then, if each council member is the head of one,” Grian mumbles in thought.
“Correct.” Doc nods. “And the breakdown goes even further when you have covens.”
“Covens?”
Mumbo steps into the conversation, “Covens are subgroups within a clan. You technically aren’t required to join a coven or clan, but most vampires do. Pure blooded vampires will join whatever group their family is affiliated with, and half bloods will join the same group as their sire.” His face pinches tight at the word ‘sire’, which makes Grian frown slightly.
“Ah, yes. That being said, you’ll be expected to answer to each and every clan,” Doc tells him, and Grian blinks.
“That’s so many!” he exclaims as he processes everything Doc has just told him.
The vampire chuckles at his reaction, “Well, that is our system, and it’s worked so far.” He shrugs. “But I figured being fully transparent with you now would be a smart idea. I’ve gotten the other councilmen to agree to let me be your direct overseer, so we’ll be seeing each other quite a bit in the future,” Doc explains, offering Grian a smile.
“Oh!” Grian blinks in surprise. “Saves me from having to deal with other vintage vampires then,” he says. He looks over at Doc, “Uh, no offense. But you guys are kind of eight hundred years old.”
Doc laughs, something loud and joyful. “None taken! Oh, you’ll be fun to work with, I look forward to it.” He grins.
Grian smiles back at Doc before passing Mumbo a glance from the corner of his eye. He finds the vampire frowning slightly, and goes to question it. However before he can get any words out, Doc continues on.
“Well, with that out of the way, I’ll go ahead and inform the Council of your decision.” Doc offers Grian a smile, before his face turns rather serious. “Now that you’ve chosen to accept, keep in mind that you must also keep this all a secret. If any other humans were to find out, not only would their memories be erased, but yours would be as well.”
Grian’s first thought is Pearl, and he swallows thickly. “Right…”
The smile returns to Doc’s face, something more lighthearted, “You’re certainly an interesting human, Grian. But I assumed you would be, if you caught Mumbo’s eye.”
Mumbo sputters at that, face seeming to go red. “He — he was very persistent! I had no choice!” he exclaims, and Grian chuckles. “It’s true!”
Doc’s own smooth chuckles join his, his gaze lingering on Mumbo for just a moment. He turns back to Grian, “I look forward to working with you. And please continue to look after Mumbo, will you?”
Mumbo’s expression momentarily forgotten, Grian hums, as if weighing a very important decision. After a moment of tapping his chin, he shrugs casually, “I guess I can. He just gets into so much trouble.”
“Hey!” Mumbo looks at him with disbelief, “That’s all you, mate! You’ve got me considering a leash!”
Doc seems to smile at the two of them, something small and private. As if whatever has him smiling is only for him and him alone to know. He then rises from his seat, heading to the door. “I’ll leave you both to it then. Goodbye, gentlemen.” He nods his head before stepping out.
After Doc leaves, Grian and Mumbo sit in silence.
Neither of them move from their chairs, it feels wrong to. Doc’s arrival and departure has left them with a heavy atmosphere, one that leaves them stuck in place. Even their breathing is hushed, the pair too determined to maintain whatever atmosphere they’ve created.
If Grian is being honest, he feels a little disoriented. He’s just been thrown quite a bit of information, and while he may have agreed to working for the Council, he isn’t quite sure what he’s signed up for.
But he has no intention of backing out, no matter what he has to do. This is the only way he can protect his memories of Mumbo.
Even if that means becoming a little tangled up in the strings of the Vampire Council.
Something Mumbo certainly doesn’t seem happy with.
He hasn’t spoken since Doc left, a firm frown having settled on his face. He’s not looking at Grian, arm resting on the side of his chair. His hand is propped up, holding his chin as he stares off. Looking at him like this, Grian is reminded of the first time they met. But now, rather than seeming bothered by Grian, he seems bothered for him.
He thinks about the way Mumbo had very subtly pleaded with him to think about agreeing to Doc’s offer. Grian frowns thoughtfully.
“Mumbo?” he questions, making the vampire hum. “You didn’t want me to say yes, did you?”
Mumbo stiffens with surprise at the question, before he’s sighing again. He furrows his brows in thought.
“No. But also yes? It’s… it’s rather complicated.” Grian turns in his chair so that he’s facing Mumbo entirely, giving him his full attention. He sees Mumbo worrying his bottom lip, brows pulled together in thought. “I… well, it’s no secret that I strongly dislike the Council. They use people, Grian. They don’t care what they have to do in order to get the results they want.” He frowns slightly. “In a perfect world, I wouldn’t let you be involved with them at all. But we don’t have a choice here, if you want to retain your memories.” His face darkens, “If Scott hadn’t said anything…”
“Who is he exactly?” Grian questions, “I mean, other than just bad news.”
Mumbo snorts at his wording. “Unfortunately for both of us, he’s a member of the Council. An important one at that.”
Grian nods in return, frowning. “Right… so definitely someone to be careful of.” His mind flashes with memories of the market. He can feel the phantom sensation of fingers grabbing his chin, and the lingering feeling of bloodlust. He shudders. “Wouldn’t every member of the Council be important?” he questions, if only to distract himself from the feeling.
Humming quietly, Mumbo considers his question. “One would assume, yes. But Scott is one of the original founders of the Council. He’s nearly untouchable.” Grian catches the way his hand grips the armrest with enough force that it creaks under his touch. “For your sake I hope he doesn’t try anything. But that might just be wishful thinking, honestly.”
“You really don’t like him, huh?” Grian questions, gently poking.
“I hate him,” Mumbo is quick with his answer, his tone dark. His hatred is clear, not only in his voice but also his posture. He hasn’t let go of his chair, in fact his grip is only tightening. “He’s the reason I’m like this. He took my humanity away from me.” Mumbo avoids Grian’s gaze, red eyes burning with an intense hatred. One that can only be fostered over the course of hundreds of years.
Grian freezes at the confession, eyes going wide as he stares at Mumbo. His throat suddenly feels dry, words completely evaporating. Mumbo has always been so cagey about his past, never quite telling Grian the details. Any time they’ve gotten close, Mumbo has locked up and retreated behind a wall. Yet here he is now, offering Grian little viewings past that very wall. This certainly wasn’t what he was expecting to learn, and he feels like he has to scramble to put a reaction together.
“I’m sorry,” Grian says, because that’s the only thing his mind supplies him with. He hears another creak of wood, and he finds that Mumbo is seconds away from breaking the armrest. He carefully reaches out to him, setting his hand on his arm. “Mumbo,” he speaks softly, as if carefully pulling Mumbo back from the shore of his thoughts.
There’s a sudden tight grip around his wrist, startling Grian at the sudden squeeze. He looks down and finds Mumbo’s other hand having seized his wrist. His grip hurts, and Grian looks back up at him. “Mumbo, come back mate.”
The vampire appears to jump slightly, looking over at Grian with startled, wide red eyes. He opens his mouth for a moment, but no noise comes out. He shuts it instead, slowly lowering his gaze to look at Grian’s hand. He quickly pulls his hand back, “Sorry,” Mumbo mutters to him, looking guilty.
He pulls his hand back slowly, offering what he hopes is a comforting smile, “It’s fine. Barely hurt anyway.” He ignores the way his wrist throbs. Mumbo simply frowns, gaze dropping away from Grian. He coughs, trying to expel the awkward tension before it arises. “Right, so stay away from Scott. Got it.”
Mumbo exhales, something heavy, as he nods. “It is highly suggested, yes. Though I’ll also be keeping an eye on you, as well as Doc.” His voice starts out a little weak, growing stronger as he goes on.
And there’s something about that that makes Grian’s smile brighten just a bit. Maybe that’s also part of the reason why Grian was so quick to agree to stepping inside the lion’s den. He knows Mumbo will have his back, just as Mumbo has his.
“I’ll be holding you to that, you know,” Grian teases, if only to pull Mumbo into something lighter, something that isn’t the chain around his ankle.
It seems to work somewhat, for a tension seems to leave the vampire, and Mumbo leans back. “I’d expect nothing less from you.” He looks over at Grian with a little smile.
“You watch my back and I watch yours,” Grian replies, not an ounce of hesitation in his voice as he says it. “I’m going to stick to your back like a leech. And it’ll take more than just taking my memories to get rid of me!” He makes it a joke, but he hopes Mumbo realizes just how true that statement is.
Mumbo is a good friend, one that Grian isn’t going to let go of that easily.
He jumps out of his chair, moving to stand in front of Mumbo’s. “You’re stuck with me.” he very boldly declares with a grin.
There’s a soft look that passes through Mumbo’s eyes, and he nods. He meets Grian’s grin with an expression akin to relief as he smiles.
When he speaks, his voice is so very fond, “It certainly seems like it.”
Grian holds his hand out to him, intent on pulling Mumbo up from the chair. Mumbo seems to pause before setting his hand in Grian’s. “Now come on, no more brooding! We’re gonna get out of the house and do something.”
Mumbo stumbles over his laugh as he stands, “And just what exactly are we going to do?”
“I don’t know! We’ll figure it out when we get there!”